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With an angry growl, Bakugo Katsuki slammed the door to his apartment shut behind him. If he weren’t too busy being utterly pissed at the world, he’d have it in him to be glad to be home, well behind his complex’s top-of-the-line security and high above the streets; out of the reach of all the extras clamoring for his autograph or for him to kiss their babies or father their babies…
…well away from the people baying for his blood and calling for his head to be put on a pike.
Fucking useless morons, going wherever the wind blows, Katsuki thought as he kicked off his shoes and made his way into his penthouse suite, making a beeline for the kitchen. One minute, they’re licking my shoes, the next they’re trying to bite my legs off.
(If Katsuki were the sort to engage in serious self-reflection, he’d be forced to admit that he was never that popular. While the Commission had always put stellar numbers up on his stats, people had always shied away from him in the streets, everyone regarding him with wary fear, like he was a volatile compound, set to go off at the slightest impetus…which, to be fair, he was. Katsuki had always had a difficult time differentiating between fear and respect, almost always conflating the former with the latter.)
However, even the veneer of respect had fallen away, and now all that was left was the fear…and hatred. Now people glared at him, looking at him like he was something disgusting they couldn’t stand to be in the vicinity of, ashamed to breathe the same air as him, like he was…a villain.
Just the thought of people looking at him like he was some kind of loser-villain set Katsuki’s hackles to standing on end.
He still couldn’t believe how fast things had turned around for him. One minute, a couple months ago, it was like usual, Katsuki doing his thing, going out and kicking ass and taking names, making the villains piss themselves at the sight of him, and the next…everything went wrong.
Somebody at the Commission must have really shit the bed, because information about him had suddenly leaked out all over the internet, spreading like wildfire as people viewed his statistics; not the sanitized statistics that the Commission put out, centered around all the villains he’d taken down. No, it was the statistics about the damage he’d done; the billions of yen in property damage, the hundreds of injuries, the dozens of deaths…and not villain deaths, civilian deaths…and how the circumstances of those civilian deaths had been rewritten to pin the blame on the villains, rather than Katsuki himself.
Granted, people had been talking about those Katsuki had killed before. It was the usual annoying whining and bitching, somebody complaining about their dead aunt, someone angry that a grandparent who was about to bite it anyway got an express ticket to the afterlife instead of a deferred one…that sort of bullshit. The loudest offender had been Round Face, who’d verbally torn Katsuki apart after one of his chases had taken him through an active construction site, where an imprecise explosion had buried her parents under a pile of I-beams.
Personally, Katsuki didn’t get what she was so mad about. Round Face’s parents had been leeches, battening onto her and sucking away the fame and fortune she’d earned for herself. If anything, she should be grateful that Katsuki’s little mishap that day had removed them from the equation. Now she was free to keep everything for herself. He’d even thought that she might even consider teaming up with him, both on and off the field, so that they could become the perfect power couple, aiming for the top together.
Well…he would take the top, but Round Face would be happy with second-place, he was sure.
Instead, she had told him to go to hell, before telling him to never speak to her again. Katsuki decided to give her a little time to cool off. She was sure to come around eventually. In all honesty, he was impressed with how considerate he was being.
However, the next time he’d seen her, it had been on the news, which had been going crazy over the revelation that Uravity now had a boyfriend. Even more shocking to Katsuki, it wasn’t him. However, when Katsuki learned just who Round Face’s boyfriend was, his eyes damn near leapt out of his skull.
It was a face that Katsuki hadn’t seen in years, a face that Katsuki had looked for intermittently, ever since they had parted ways after junior high, a face that had now popped up, arm in arm with Katsuki’s girl…like that worthless freak had any right to claim a relationship with her.
His hair was shorter now, having nearly been buzzed all the way down to the scalp. His cheeks were a little flatter and more chiseled, but were still decorated with those freckles. His eyes were harder and narrower, making him look more serious and mature, but still had that dark-green shade.
Deku… That pathetic, Quirkless worm, who’d had the temerity to just up and disappear after junior high, like he thought he was too good to be around Katsuki, had not only reappeared, but had done so as Round Face’s boyfriend. Katsuki had been livid. He’d been looking for Deku off and on, since he’d gone to UA, wanting to track the freak down and make sure that he wasn’t getting…ideas…And what do you know…? It seemed that he had. Now he had shown up out of the blue, acting like he deserved to even breathe the same air as Katsuki’s woman. It filled him with such rage that he was prepared to head right out and off the pathetic nerd, right then and there. It wasn’t as though anyone actually cared about him.
But that had been when the news had broke, and Katsuki’s reputation had tanked. Round Face didn’t waste a second before blasting him on the news, pointing out that this was merely the proof of what she had been saying about him all along. It was enough for Katsuki to start wondering if, maybe, she really didn’t like him.
Trying to force that notion from his mind, Katsuki pulled open the fridge and yanked out a bottle of beer. After another day of people muttering behind his back, glaring at him from a safe…ish distance, or rapidly leaving any area he arrived at, he was ready to drink his problems away.
Not even bothering to close the door, Katsuki popped the top off the bottle and chugged it down, almost completely inverting as he poured the contents down his throat as fast as he could swallow them. It took less than a minute for him to completely empty the first bottle. Then Katsuki immediately reached for the second, popping the top off that one too, and chugging down half of it in one go.
Finally, he closed the refrigerator, heading towards the living room, pondering his prospects.
Unfortunately, the Commission’s damage control efforts hadn’t been making much headway. Even with the Rat from UA chipping in, Katsuki’s reputation continued to spiral. He almost wished the old Hobo-sensei was still around. It was bad enough that his killer was still on the loose, but Hobo-sensei had always been one of the people to truly acknowledge Katsuki’s drive to be the best.
As a consequence, Katsuki had been told that he should take some time away from the public eye, and let all the furor die down, while the Commission handled damage control. Katsuki had told them what he thought of that bullshit. What he didn’t need to do was hide away like some cowardly little bitch. That would only make him look guilty. What he needed to do was go out and hit the streets, bring down even more villains, and remind everyone what being a hero was all about…fucking winning.
Katsuki wasn’t a loser, and he wasn’t about to start now.
However, despite his efforts, people didn’t seem to appreciate him. If anything, his renewed drive brought with it renewed collateral damage, which only added credence to the allegations of his destructive nature and violent attitude, and people were only seeming to grow more hostile.
Well fuck them. He didn’t need their approval. If they didn’t like the job he was doing, even though he was making the villains piss themselves at the mere though of him coming after them, then that was too bad. Katsuki was a hero through and through, and he never gave up.
With these thoughts lingering inside his head, Katsuki entered his living room, ready to flop on the couch and turn on some mindless television. The news only served to aggravate him lately, reporting on the latest damage he’d inflicted, rather than talking up how awesome he was. So he’d watch something else.
However, all thoughts of his evening entertainment completely drained away, when he entered the living room and saw that he was not the only one in his home.
There, seated in the plush chair, facing the door to the kitchen that Katsuki had entered through, was a figure that incited his deepest rage and hatred.
“Hey, Kacchan,” said Midoriya Izuku, flashing Katsuki a sly smile that the Deku Katsuki had known would have never dared to show him, “been a while, hasn’t it?”
Katsuki froze, taking the intruder in, not daring to believe his eyes for a moment, before he was able to process that this was actually happening. “Deku…What the fuck are you doing in my apartment, you bastard?”
“What?” asked Izuku mockingly. “I can’t catch up with an old friend? And here I’d heard you were looking for me all these years. I must’ve heard wrong.”
Katsuki clenched his jaw, unwilling admit it. He had been looking for Deku, of course. He’d needed to make sure the little freak didn’t get any ideas, any hope that he would achieve anything worthwhile in his life. Katsuki had been looking forward to exercising his freedom as a hero to remind Deku of his place at every opportunity…that he was nothing but a pebble in the road.
“Well…no need to bother with that anymore, Kacchan,” said Izuku dismissively. “In truth, I’m here for work anyway.”
“Work…What work do you do, Deku?” snarled Katsuki.
“I’m in the…disposal…business,” said Izuku, his right hand disappearing behind his back for a moment as he leaned forward slightly. “In particular, I specialize in taking out the trash.”
“Very funny, you fucking nerd,” growled Katsuki. “Since you’re here, I’m gonna enjoy putting you in your place, especially since you’ve got the fucking gall to lay your hands on what’s mine.”
“You mean Ochako?” asked Izuku, making Katsuki jolt and growl all the more furiously. “Aww, what’s the matter, Kacchan? Upset that your crush got taken away…not that she could stand the sight of you?”
“Shut the fuck up!” snapped Katsuki. “There’s no way you’re man enough for Round Face.”
“I’m man enough to remember her actual name, in any case,” said Izuku simply. “We’ve been doing pretty well honestly. We’re even going to announce our betrothal soon. She’s going to be the mother of my daughter, and we’ll have a happy life together…all the more since you won’t be in it.”
“Like fuck I won’t be in it,” snarled Katsuki. “I’m gonna be in your life, until you finally give it up…starting now.” He took a step closer.
“I think not,” said Izuku, pulling his arm from behind his back…and leveling the pistol in his hand at Katsuki, who froze, taking it in.
Katsuki didn’t know a whole lot about different makes or models of guns. It was a slick, black model, the cylindrical shape of the suppressor doubling the length of the barrel that was now pointed straight at Katsuki’s head.
However, Katsuki merely curled his lips back in a sneer. “Really, Deku? It’s pathetic enough that you don’t have a Quirk, but to try and make up for it by threatening me with that little toy…”
“For a toy, it’s certainly keeping you in place,” said Izuku, quirking his own lips in amusement. “A gun’s nothing to joke about, after all. The Commission might be constantly trying to talk down about them as being inferior to Quirks, but we both know that the reality is that the hero system wouldn’t last if people understood what guns actually represent.
“After all, for all the amazing things Quirks are capable of, for ease of killing, it’s hard to trump a chemical reaction that produces an explosion to propel a metal slug along at supersonic velocity to smash its way through whatever is in its path. Just a twitch of my finger, and this has the potential to be every bit as lethal as your Quirk…and a whole lot less messy to boot. It’s even equipped with the latest in noise-reduction technology, utilizing advanced active noise-cancelling systems, so that it can be called an actual silencer, like the kind you see in movies, rather than a suppressor. I could drill you through your skull, and someone in the next room over wouldn’t hear a single thing. Now that’s convenience.”
Japan had already been notorious for how draconian its gun control laws were before the age of Quirks. In the wake of the dark age, those gun control measures had only grown more stringent. However, it was no longer merely about public safety and ensuring that only trustworthy people would be given access to such potentially lethal tools. It was about enforcing the narrative of Quirks and their superiority. Guns were primitive tools of a forgotten age. Quirks were the true measure of power…or so the narrative went.
The last thing the Hero Commission wanted was for people to remember that a gun gave someone with a weak Quirk, or no Quirk for that matter, the kind of lethal potential that some of the strongest Quirks out there possessed, and all with comparatively minimal training, usable with a simple twitch of the finger. For how powerful many heroes were, very few of them possessed Quirks that made them bullet-proof. The last thing the Commission wanted was for people to be reminded of that. Hence their doubling down on even more restrictive gun control measures, and even forcing through disarmament measures for the police and self-defense forces.
“If you’re here to kill me, you’re doing a fucking shit job of it,” Katsuki said. “You’re wasting time, fucking taunting me like some little bitch, just because you’ve got that toy. You think you’ve got what it takes to kill me, huh? I bet you’ve never even fired that thing.”
“I’ve fired it plenty,” said Izuku. “Didn’t I tell you, Kacchan. I’m working right now. That should give you an idea of what my work actually is.”
Katsuki’s eyes widened as he processed the implications of what Izuku said. “You…a fucking killer. Don’t make me laugh.”
“I’m a pro,” said Izuku simply. “Just like you’re a professional hero…I’m a professional killer.” He glanced at the gun in his hand, still trained on Katsuki, and shrugged. “Though I’ll admit I haven’t shot very many people. I usually make due with whatever method works best for the situation at hand. Most of the time, the people I kill don’t even realize I was ever there.
“Sometimes…it’s just an unfortunate accident…like losing purchase and drowning in the bathtub…”
Grape Fucker… Katsuki thought, his eyes widening. That little shit had been found submerged in his own tub, lungs filled with water.
“…Or a fault in one’s support equipment, causing one to be killed by their own Quirk going out of control…”
Half ‘n Half… Katsuki’s mouth opened slightly as the bottle tumbled from his numb fingers to land on the floor, spilling its contents across the carpet.
“…Other times, it’s a little bit more obviously a murder…like when someone’s had a neurotoxin smeared over a piece of support gear they put over their nose and mouth…”
“Eye Bags…” Katsuki whispered, feeling an uneasy tingling in his arms and legs.
“…Or a little extra something in someone’s coffee, which causes them to drown over the course of six hours or so, as their lungs fill with their own blood…”
Hobo-sensei…
Izuku’s grin was wider and much more malicious now. “And other times, it’s a good bit more blatant…I’m fond of the garrote, for example…”
All Might’s sidekick… Katsuki thought, shivering, his limbs feeling like lead now.
“And, of course, there’s the classic…a sniper round to the skull,” said Izuku, lightly tapping the center of his forehead.
All Might… Katsuki still remembered the shock of learning that his idol had been killed in such a cowardly fashion. By that point, he’d already retired, and was nothing more skin and bones…no longer capable of being a hero…and this fucker had shot him through the head from a kilometer away…not even having the grace to off him face-to-face.
“You…” Katsuki breathed. “It can’t be…you’re the Neo Hero Killer?”
To the public, it seemed like unrelated hero deaths. They’d died through different methods, some of which seemed like mere accidents. Yet in online forums in the dark corners of the internet, and in the back rooms of the Commission, the idea had been bandied about that these deaths were connected…that someone was taking up the mantle of the Hero Killer, after the previous one had been locked away in Tartarus.
It was dubious. After all, all the different methods suggested multiple killers…if some of those heroes had even been murdered. Some of those deaths were just plain ridiculous…like when Mount Lady tripped and impaled herself through the eyeball by falling on a flagpole. Surely Deku couldn’t have been responsible for that.
Not to mention that the original Hero Killer hadn’t been able to shut up about his little spiel on fakes and real heroes and how no heroes were actually worthy and yada yada…The supposed Neo Hero Killer expressed no ideology, and the only thing to suggest they existed at all was the dead heroes in their wake.
Then Katsuki shook his head vigorously to clear it. “You’re full of shit, Deku,” he growled.
“Believe what you want, Kacchan,” said Izuku cheerfully. “The truth is that you won’t be walking out of here tomorrow morning.”
“Like fuck I won’t,” Katsuki retorted. “Who would want me dead anyway?”
“More like who wouldn’t?” asked Izuku. “I mean…have you seen your own statistics…the real ones I mean? Dear God! There are villains on Tartarus’ death row that don’t have a body count as high as yours.”
“They had it coming!” Katsuki snapped.
“By ‘had it coming’, I presume you mean ‘existing within a square kilometer of you, when you’re on the warpath’,” Izuku replied. “When you’ve literally leveled an entire city block, just to catch one purse snatcher, that kind of argument fails to hold water.”
“Just a bunch of fucking weaklings who can’t handle a little hardship,” Katsuki scoffed.
“And I suppose Ochako is one of those ‘fucking weaklings’ too,” guessed Izuku, his tone growing darker.
“The fuck…?” grunted Katsuki.
“Don’t tell me you forgot the fact that you killed her parents,” said Izuku. “Then you had the fucking stones to come onto her after that, and treat it like you’d done her some kind of favor, you sick little blood junkie.”
“I did do her a fucking favor!” Katsuki exclaimed. “I freed her from that stupid bullshit of having to carry them. I set her free!”
“I know it’s hard for you to comprehend, Kacchan,” said Izuku, his tone becoming patronizing, “but Ochako loved her parents. She was proud of everything they’d done to support her, to raise her, how hard they worked; and wanted to repay them. She wanted to ease their burdens, give them the opportunity to rest and relax, to take them to Hawaii on vacation. She was happy to be able to support them.
“And like I said, I know you aren’t capable of understanding that. You cut off your parents the moment you no longer needed them, probably because they were some of the only people who didn’t mindlessly pander to you and suggest that you were God’s perfect little gift to the world. They had the temerity to dare to suggest that you could do better, that you could be better.
“It’s no wonder you don’t understand, since the only person you’re capable of loving is yourself. And even that love is as shallow and superficial as middle schooler’s first crush, lovingly admiring all the great points you fondly imagine yourself having and ignoring anything that contradicts that myth of perfection you constantly tell yourself.”
Katsuki’s jaw clenched so hard that the veins of his neck were standing out beneath his skin. It was taking all his restraint to not throw himself at Deku and blast him to pieces this very instant. His arms and legs were quivering with his desire, an eerie tingling running up to his shoulders and hips. How dare this fucker bring up Round Face like this, rubbing that he’s been fucking her in my face like this…
Katsuki’s jaw dropped as the realization struck. “No…Wait…you mean Round Face…?”
Izuku chuckled softly, folding his left leg over his right. “I’ll be honest, Kacchan. I’ve been waiting a long time for this. In fact, you could say that I became a hitman in the first place because I imagined this day, the day where someone would despise you so much that they would turn to me to see that you were dead.
“I’ve been looking forward to this so much that I’ve breached my normal procedures, because you mean just that much to me, Kacchan. I’m quite proud of my professionalism, and that most of my targets don’t even realize I was ever there, before their lives are snuffed out.
“But you…? You are worth being a little unprofessional for…I suppose you should be proud of that, Kacchan. You always did seek to excel at the wrong things.”
Katsuki’s breath hissed from between his gritted teeth. “So that little bitch wants me dead, huh…?” he growled.
Izuku laughed. “I guess the cat is out of the bag. Yeah…Ochako hates you like you could never imagine…hates you even more than you hate me…to give you an idea.
“After all, it takes a special kind of hate for people to turn to me.”
“The fuck do you mean by that?” asked Katsuki.
Izuku sighed in disappointment. “When it comes to revenge, most people are such prima donnas about it. If they want someone dead, it has to be a fucking production. The target needs to die painfully, or in some ironic fashion, or they want to have a personal hand in it. They sit back and yak about the particulars, like they’re some kind of big name director, leading the production of the next big blockbuster.
“But I usually go with whatever works. If that winds up being painless or painful isn’t worth bothering over for me. I go with what gives me the highest chance of success. For me, the how doesn’t matter so much, so long as the target’s dead at the end of the day.
“And a lot of people don’t care for that. They hate their target, but they don’t hate them enough to be willing to do whatever it takes to see them dead…which is why the ones who ultimately commission my services have a special kind of hate.
“When you hate someone so much…that the very thought that they still share this world with you fills you with disgust…when you despise them so much that you stop caring about the when or how, so long as they die…when all that matters is seeing a world without them in it…that’s the kind of hatred that prompts people to hire me. Those people want their target dead, no matter what…and I’m happy to provide.”
Izuku licked his lips in anticipation. “I’ve been looking forward to this for a long time…because I knew that, sooner or later, given what a disgusting piece of trash you are as a human being, it would only be a matter of time before you inspired that kind of hatred in someone. It didn’t even take you very long, did it? You’ve only been a pro-hero for a couple of years.
“I envisioned the day that someone would come to me to commission me to kill you. I imagined them scraping together every last yen they possessed, preparing to promise me everything they had, if your death would be the result of it…
“And I would be so happy to be able to tell them, ‘Keep the money. Just this once…it’s on the house.’”
“So…you got between Round Face’s legs instead?” asked Katsuki. “She sold you her body to get you to kill me, huh?”
“That’s a separate matter,” said Izuku. “It’s definitely not going to be a concern of yours.”
Katsuki barked out a laugh. “Ha! Like hell it isn’t!” He grinned viciously. “You’ve made a fucking mistake, Deku. You thought I’d go down like some kind of chump…just because you’ve got that little toy with you? I’ve dealt with a fucking lot worse. I’m gonna fucking blow you to pieces. And once I’m done with that, I’m gonna pay Round Face a little visit. You blew your chance, you fucking loser.”
Izuku raised an eyebrow, then his body began to tremble. At first, Katsuki thought he was quivering with fear. But then a small chuckle worked its way out through Izuku’s mouth, a chuckle that grew into a laughter, until Izuku threw his head back and guffawed at the top of his lungs.
“Oh Kacchan…it’s such a waste you became a hero,” Izuku said when he’d calmed down a little, wiping his eyes with his free hand. “You should have become a comedian. You really wold have killed it…in a good way for a change.”
“You think, I’m joking, Deku…” growled Katsuki.
Izuku’s smile returned, now with a sadistic edge. “Well…I think you are a joke, Kacchan. You misunderstand what I’ve been saying.”
“And what’s that?” asked Katsuki furiously.
Izuku’s smile became a grin. “I said you were worth being a little unprofessional for. Me showing myself like this, chatting with you, even telling you about Ochako, and her role in all of this…That was me being unprofessional. I’m taking on additional risk after all. I’m opening up the possibility that someone might intervene, or there might be surveillance equipment here that I don’t know about, or I might wind up leaving evidence that leads the investigators who find your body to me…that’s what I mean about me being a little unprofessional.
“But I am a professional at the end of the day. And if there’s one thing I take pride in, it’s in getting the job done. Whatever additional risks I might undertake, whatever little foolish amusements I might indulge in, the one thing I would never do is compromise the chance to make the kill.”
Izuku lowered the gun, then leaned forward so that he could stow it behind his back, before folding his hands together on his lap, regarding Katsuki with the confidence of someone who didn’t find him a threat in the slightest.
“So…if I’m showing myself to you like this, Kacchan…it isn’t because I’m going to kill you…It’s because…I already have.”
“Now you’re fucking tripping, Deku,” Katsuki said. “I’m just gonna have to show you…”
His voice trailed off as he’d leaned forward, prepared to rush the dumb, Quirkless idiot, who’d been stupid enough to put the sole piece of leverage he possessed away. However, Katsuki’s legs refused to respond. He tried to raise his hands to blast Deku into oblivion…only to find that he couldn’t feel them. His arms refused to move, swinging limply. And as Katsuki shifted, but without the support from his legs, he merely pitched forward onto the floor.
“Well…one of us is tripping,” Izuku observed wryly, smirking down at Katsuki.
“The fuck…the fuck did you do?” demanded Katsuki.
Izuku’s gaze shifted, and Katsuki followed it, his eyes widening as he saw what Izuku was looking at…the beer bottle Katsuki had dropped earlier…the bottle that he’d drunk half of…after drinking a whole bottle earlier.
“You know…” said Izuku teasingly, “a quarter of a bottle would have been more than enough for a lethal dose. But…that’s Plus Ultra, I guess.”
“Y-You poisoned me!?” protested Katsuki. “What kind of fucking little bitch are you!?”
“Like I said…the kind who gets the job done,” said Izuku. “I’m here to kill you, Kacchan…and I just needed to make sure of it. Granted…I did have to put my little spin on it.
“Remember what I told you earlier, about how dramatic some people have to be about their little revenge…well…I guess it’s a case of the pot calling the kettle black, in this case, because I really did want to make your end special. To that end, I designed this lovely little poison just for you.”
“What is it doing to me?” asked Katsuki, wriggling his torso as he tried to make his body move in some fashion, as though he thought he could undulate his way up to Izuku like a worm, and maybe sink his teeth into Izuku’s neck.
Izuku’s grin widened. “It’s a slow-acting paralytic. Its effects start at your outermost extremities, your arms and legs, and gradually work inwards. I had to be careful at first, since you were still dangerous for the first few minutes of our conversation, but by the time you were ready to throw caution to the wind, it had already progressed far enough.”
Katsuki’s eyes bulged with rage. It was all a fucking trick! Deku hadn’t simply been talking to be dramatic. He’d been playing for time, distracting Katsuki from recognizing the signs that the poison was taking effect…and Katsuki had fallen for it like a chump.
Izuku continued. “Of course, as time passes, the paralysis will progress further…until it reaches your lungs. I estimate that, about five or so minutes later…it’ll stop your heart. And then you’ll be dead…just like that.”
A chill went down Katsuki’s spine. Me…die…like this…killed by…fucking Deku…? He doesn’t even have the balls to face me in a straight fight…What the fuck is this!?
“You fucking little bitch!” Katsuki shouted. “You’re so fucking pathetic that you can’t face me properly…!? You gotta hide behind little tricks like this!?”
Izuku merely chuckled. “As if I care about your pride, Kacchan. At the end of the day…you’ll still be dead, when all is said and done…and that’s the only thing that truly matters to me. The rest is just embellishment…for a little extra satisfaction…like when it sinks in that you’re actually going to die.
“No one’s going to bail you out this time. No one’s going to shield you from the consequences. No one’s going to save you…and you’re certainly not going to save yourself.”
“You won’t get away with this, Deku!” Katsuki howled.
“I think otherwise,” said Izuku. “Despite my little indulgences, I’m actually quite thorough, when it comes to cleaning up after myself. You’re going to die, and I’m going to get away scot free. Sadly for you, Kacchan, this isn’t some perfect world, where justice always prevails, and the ones in the right are always victorious.
“After all, if the world were like that, you would have never been a hero. You would have been booked before we even left middle school for all the shit you pulled. And even if you hadn’t, you would have been kicked out of UA before the first semester was up, for all the red flags your behavior should have raised. But…we don’t live in that perfect world, do we, Kacchan? You got to become a hero, despite being the furthest thing from heroic…and I got to be there at the end of your road.”
Katsuki opened his mouth to say something, shout another insult, make another demand. However, he was cut off by a sickening gurgling sound, followed by a squelching noise. He lost the feeling in his abdomen, but soon felt something warm and wet spreading across his stomach and up to his chest, while his nose was invaded by an acrid stench.
“Ah…” Izuku’s nose wrinkled. “There it is…the aroma of your personality. Now you smell as awful on the outside as you are on the inside. I guess I should have told you that, as your paralysis spreads, the muscles in your abdomen would relax, as well as your bowels and bladder…which led to this.”
If he’d still been able to feel it, Katsuki’s stomach would have been roiling with disgust. It served to make him reel, the reality of his situation finally beginning to sink in.
Izuku’s grin was nearly from ear to ear now. “Ah…I’m so glad that I finally got to see this, Kacchan. Now this…this is how you truly deserve to go…not in a blaze of glory, going down swinging against impossible odds; not peacefully in your bed, at the end of a long life well lived; not even jumped by a couple of thugs from an alleyway, because you’re too much of a badass to take on in a straight fight. No…this is what you deserve, a death devoid of honor or dignity, laying in a puddle of your piss and shit, feeling yourself die centimeter by centimeter, minute by minute, watching helplessly as the sorry end of your despicable life inches closer and closer…powerless…helpless…unable to do anything…sort of like…some kind of Deku.”
Katsuki heard Izuku’s words…but they had devolved into so much meaningless gibberish to him…because it was finally hitting home for Katsuki that…he was going to die. He should have been raging at how unfair it was, how Deku didn’t have the stones to kill him properly. But that didn’t matter anymore. Nothing matter anymore…nothing except the fact that this was it. It was the end…
Katsuki’s breathing began to quicken. His harsh breaths dragged across his teeth as his eyes twitched, looking around, seeking some kind of escape, even though there was none to be had…because even if there was a way to escape this, he wouldn’t be able to take it.
“Hmm…?” Izuku leaned down slightly for a closer look. “Is that panic I see…the great and mighty Bakugo Katsuki the invincible DynaMight, who was supposed to be the next Number One Hero…is panicking? Come on, Kacchan…I thought you were the kind of guy who laughed in the face of Death, before kicking him square in the balls and blasting his head off. What happened to that guy?”
Katsuki didn’t have the wherewithal to retort. What little of his body he could still feel was shaking like a leaf. He couldn’t believe it. No…I don’t wanna die…I don’t wanna die…I don’t wanna die…
“P-Please…Please…D-…I…Izuku…P-Please…I don’t wanna die…” Katsuki rolled his eyes up, desperately staring up at Izuku. “I don’t wanna go…”
Izuku’s smile faded, and then he sighed. “Well…now I’ve seen everything. Bakugo fucking Katsuki…pleading for his life, begging like a little bitch…Well…the paralysis has reached your balls by now, so I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.
“But…no…Kacchan. I’m not saving you. No one’s saving you. You’re going to die…and no amount of pleading is going to change that. But…here’s something to take with you to the afterlife…That fear you’re experiencing…the realization that it’s all over…that you’re about to lose everything…All of your victims experienced that.
“Ochako’s parents experienced that. Seeing their daughter blossom into the beautiful woman she was meant to be, enjoying their twilight years with her…You took all of that away from them…away from her, without an iota of regret. And now…you get to experience that feeling of having everything taken away from you. Savor it…in your final moments.”
Katsuki let out a whimper, tears leaking from his eyes. He opened his mouth, but found that he couldn’t speak…and his jaw had gone slack, his tongue lolling out.
“Ah…it’s reached your mouth and voice-box,” Izuku noted. “It’s progressing a bit faster than I would’ve liked. I guess we can chalk that up to how much of a drunken fiend you are, taking in so much in one go. Now all that’s left are your lungs and heart.”
His grin returned with additional sadism. “Oh…by the way, Kacchan. Once the paralysis reaches your lungs, I estimate at least five minutes until it stops your heart. In the meantime, of course…you won’t be able to breathe. I wonder whether the poison will actually get that far…or if you’ll die from asphyxiation first. How long can you hold your breath, Kacchan?”
Katsuki lay there, a few errant twitches running through his body. But then, with a hiss of air…his diaphragm relaxed…prompting the air to escape out of his lungs. His eyes were left, quivering and twitching. Foam flecked his gaping mouth. Izuku sat back and watched, never taking his eyes off Katsuki.
Katsuki would have writhed, but he couldn’t move. The feeling was gone from his body. He felt hazy, dizzy, like the world was closing in around him. His lungs had begun to burn, when he’d no longer been able to breathe, but now that sensation was gone. All that was left was the terrifying feeling of simply…fading away.
No…I don’t wanna die…I don’t wanna die…I’m scared…I’m scared…Someone…Help me…Please, help me…Please…
But no one helped him. No one saved him. Instead, all that was left was the darkness closing in, and the sensation of everything fading away. However, before his world descended into the black completely, he heard Izuku’s voice, one final time…a whisper sending him off into oblivion.
“By the way, Kacchan…I know it’s no swan dive, but…I’ve got a little advice for you…
“If you want to be a hero so badly…pray you’ll be reborn as a decent human being in your next life.”
Izuku watched…finally seeing the light leave Katsuki’s eyes for good…never to be kindled again. Standing up, Izuku walked past the man who had once been his friend, back when they were both children…the boy who’d grown up to become a monster…a monster that certain fools had decided was a laudable hero. And he’d now met his end as a disgrace, dying in a pathetic, unseemly manner.
And his killer walked out the door…leaving nothing behind…as though he’d never been there to begin with.
Katsuki’s death would not be discovered for almost a week. Eyebrows were raised when he didn’t show up at his agency the next day. However, no one wanted to take the risk of attracting his ire by disturbing him at his home. The leadership at the Commission came to the conclusion that Katsuki had seen sense, and was now keeping a low profile to help along the process of smoothing over his reputation.
It was the lack of any kind of contact or response that finally got people wondering if something had happened to DynaMight. Even so, the staff of his agency held out from sending someone over to check on him. Katsuki would have been galled to learn that his staff considered a few days without him to be a relief, rather than something to worry about.
Finally, it was a representative from the Commission who arrived at Katsuki’s home, wanting to discuss his lack of communication, and go over their long term plans for rehabilitating his reputation. There was no response to his knocks though…and Katsuki’s phone had long run out of battery, and wasn’t even ringing anymore.
Even so…it was a little while longer, before they were desperate enough to risk forcing their way into Katsuki’s apartment. By then, it was clear that something was wrong…and when the Commission representative was finally let in by the landlord…his nose was invaded by the odor of death and decay, before he found Katsuki, already starting to decompose, on the living room floor.
The shock of Bakugo Katsuki’s death had the Commission reeling. Once again, their meetings began to turn to discussing the possibility of the Neo Hero Killer’s existence, and how yet another hero had been slain, right under their noses. They frantically convened meetings, discussed strategies, and tried to determine just who this mysterious killer was. They debated furiously as to just what kind of Quirk he must possess to be capable of so effectively killing so many heroes.
The public…were less troubled by the development. And when the announcement went live on various streaming platforms, it wasn’t long before the comments sections were shut down, due to numerous messages declaring some variation of, “Good riddance,” often in a quite colorful manner.
The public had watched as the Commission had desperately tried to defend their rabid attack dog, and justify how his lack of care and consideration for those around him led to dozens of innocent deaths, and the ruin of countless livelihoods. They had watched as those who were supposed to be charged with holding Katsuki accountable for his actions instead did everything they could to excuse him, and shield him from the consequences.
In their eyes…someone had stepped up and done what the Commission should have done. Was the end result extreme…? Of course. But it was also viewed as appropriate, considering the level of damage that Katsuki had inflicted. And people were starting to see the pattern too.
Someone was holding heroes to account…when the organization, whose job it was supposed to be to do so…wouldn’t. And with that knowledge, those at the top of the Hero Commission could only watch as the illusion of the perfect hero society that they had tried so hard to build began to crumble away.
As for the killer…he had other matters to attend to…like meeting with his client and future wife…to report the results.
“It’s done…?” Ochako looked up at Izuku from her seat by the kitchen counter.
“Bakugo Katsuki’s dead,” Izuku confirmed. “It was a slow, painful, pathetic death…exactly what he deserved.”
Ochako gave Izuku a wan smile. “I thought ya said ya didn’t care about that sort of stuff.”
“Well…even I can be petty at times,” said Izuku, approaching her. He took Ochako’s hand, pulling her up and into a tight hug.
“It’s over,” he whispered into Ochako’s ear. “Bakugo won’t hurt anyone ever again.”
Ochako sniffled, then began to cry, her tears running down her cheeks to soak Izuku’s shirt, as she pressed her face against his shoulder. Izuku held her tightly, gently swaying as he rubbed one hand up and down her spine, the other gently resting against the back of her head. Ochako’s fingers curled, bunching the fabric of his shirt across his chest.
After several minutes of crying, Ochako managed to calm herself. Lifting her face away from Izuku’s shoulder, she met his eyes. “Thank you…Izuku…Thank you for giving me closure, and giving my parents justice.”
“I’m glad I could,” said Izuku. He looked directly into Ochako’s eyes. “Do you still feel the urge to follow after them?”
Ochako swallowed, then averted her eyes. “A little…I’m getting better…Having you and Eri-chan helps.”
“We’ll get you there,” said Izuku, reaching up to cup her cheek, tilting Ochako’s head so that their eyes met once more. “Remember our contract.”
Ochako nodded.
Izuku’s face grew serious. “Your life belongs to me now. You’re not allowed to throw it away.”
Ochako nodded, her mind going back to the night that she had first met Izuku, when she was nothing more than a client, wanting to hire him to kill the person she had hated more than she had ever hated anyone in her life…
“Keep your money,” Izuku said.
“Huh…?” grunted Ochako, her entire body going cold. “But…if it’s not enough…I-I can get more! I’ll sell the apartment, the agency…everything…please…I’ll give you whatever you want!”
Izuku held up a hand to forestall her. “I told you to keep the money…not that I wasn’t taking the job.”
Ochako froze, her mouth hanging open slightly.
“You see…Bakugo and I have a history,” said Izuku. “The two of us go way back. I had a front-row seat to the kind of monster he was, long before you did. If anything, he’s the reason I took this line of work…because I knew it was only a matter of time, before someone came to me to take him out.”
“You…You knew he was like this…?” Ochako blinked, tears beading in her eyes. “Why didn’t you do anything…say anything…” I he had, then maybe that monster in human skin would have never become a hero. Maybe so many innocent people wouldn’t have died by his hands. Maybe her parents…
“Because he was protected…and no one wanted to listen,” said Izuku. “I’m sure you saw it yourself, when you were in school together. All those red flags, all those problematic behaviors, and no one in a position to do something gave a damn, because his Quirk, and how good he was with it, made him all the rage.
“It’s always been like that. The people in Bakugo’s life have always worked to protect him from the consequences of his own actions. They were just that committed to riding his coattails when he became a hero. And disciplining him, actually trying to correct his behavior…that was always too much work…like they always assumed that someone else would take care of it…talking about him like he was some gemstone in the rough, that would shine once it was polished…but no one wanted to get down to work and do the actual polishing.”
Ochako nodded, remembering all too well. She and others had raised concerns about Bakugo’s behavior to Aizawa, and their other teachers. They were always told that it was “just a phase”, or that he would “grow out of it”. Aizawa was particularly dismissive, always saying that they were too pampered to endure a little adversity, if something like dealing with their classmate was too much for them, and that they needed to toughen up…before threatening to expel them, of course.
Even after they had graduated…countless instances of excessive collateral damage, excessive force, excessive violence…Katsuki’s patrols were sometimes more like rampages…and it had all been swept under the rug. Even when he’d killed her parents through the wild exercise of his desperate need to destroy, her efforts to bring him to justice, to hold him to account for what he’d done had run into the brick wall of the Commission, to the point where she’d needed to back down, as they threatened to strip her of her license and sue her for slander.
Ochako couldn’t understand it. Why would so many people to go to such lengths to cover for someone so heinous? His behavior had always been outrageous. So why had nobody done a single thing about it?
“That’s the problem with hero society,” said Izuku plainly. “Once people get it into their heads that someone’s power makes them a hero, they overlook everything else. And, of course, at this point, UA and the Commission have gone all-in. They’ve put all their eggs into Katsuki’s basket. They can’t admit that they were wrong about him, because that would also be tantamount to admitting all the rest of their negligence regarding him. If they did, their reputations would be in tatters…” Izuku grinned. “Not that that would be the worst thing in the world.”
Ochako had to agree with him.
“So…yes…Bakugo Katsuki will die,” said Izuku. “You have my word. I will kill him, and I won’t ask for a single yen for it. As a bonus…I can assure you that his death will be anything but peaceful.”
Ochako blinked…Izuku’s assurance causing tears of relief to flood her eyes. “Thank you.”
It should have felt wrong. Here she was, standing before an assassin, a criminal, a murderer, who had just promised her that he would kill a man. Ochako was a hero, an officer of the law, a defender of the people. This was the very person she should have been opposing with all her strength.
So…why did the assurance that someone was about to die fill her with such relief?
The obvious reason…was that it was because that the person who was going to die was someone she hated. Once…Ochako had never imagined that she had that capacity for hate in her heart, that utter loathing, the feeling of being so disgusted by the mere thought of another’s existence that all that mattered was knowing he would not be in this world anymore. But Bakugo Katsuki had achieved the seemingly impossible in inspiring that hatred within her.
Mommy…Daddy…I’ll get justice for you…I promise.
It seemed absurd. Killing someone in revenge wasn’t justice. That was what the law was for, what the courts were for…what heroes were for. But when the one who had wronged you was a hero, when those who enforced the law refused to actually apply it to him…when everyone seemed determine to lie and scheme to protect him, no matter what evils he committed…then the notion of the law was meaningless…and it was up to people like her to find their own justice. And Ochako had just found the officer who would execute it.
And after that, I’ll…
Ochako’s thoughts trailed off…and she was confronted by a sense of emptiness.
Meanwhile, Izuku had turned to head for the door…only to pause and turn back to her.
“By the way…what comes after?” he asked.
“Huh…?” Ochako looked up, meeting Izuku’s eyes with confusion.
“After I avenge your parents’ death…after I kill Bakugo…what will you do?”
“I…” Ochako didn’t know what to say. Everything that came after sating this one desire was a complete blank to her. If anything, she almost got the feeling that the loss of her parents would weigh even more heavily on her, if there was no one or nothing to fixate her hatred on. She supposed she could turn her hatred to the Commission next, or UA…but those seemed like mere stopgaps. Once her parents were well and truly avenged, what did she have to live for? So much of her life, particularly her decision to become a hero, had been motivated by her desire to do right be them. Without them…what did she even have?
Did she even have a reason to live at all?
Izuku sighed, and turned and walked back towards her. “It seems to me that…once you’ve avenged your parents…you might consider following them,” he observed.
Ochako gasped…his words striking a chord within her. Once she had her justice…would she really just throw her life away?
“Would your parents want that for you?” asked Izuku, stepping closer. “They put all that effort, all that time, all that work into raising you, caring for you, helping you grow…just for you to throw it all away?”
“I…” Ochako had to admit that he had a point. But life without her parents seemed so…pointless.
“Hmm…” Izuku studied Ochako a bit more carefully, before nodding to himself. “All right then…I’m changing the arrangement.”
“Huh?” grunted Ochako.
“I want to be paid after all,” said Izuku.
“Y-You do?” asked Ochako. “My money…”
“Not with money,” said Izuku. “As my payment for this…I want you.”
Ochako gasped, even as her cheeks heated up.
Izuku stepped closer to her, his presence looming, powerful…and yet…not threatening. “I’ll take your life as my payment…which means that you’re not allowed to throw it away. It’s going to belong to me…and you’re going to find a new reason to keep living.”
“How…?” whispered Ochako.
“It may be surprising, but…I have a daughter,” said Izuku, smiling.
“Y-You do?” asked Ochako, shocked that this ruthless killer could have someone like that.
“She’s adopted, someone who I ended up taking in as a consequence of one of my other contracts,” said Izuku. “I love her all the same, and she means the world to me.
“The thing is that she’s been through a great deal as well, so she deserves every opportunity to have more people in her life, more loving relationships. I think that a new mother would help a great deal in that area.”
Ochako’s blush intensified as she processed what Izuku was saying. He wanted her to be the mother of his daughter, which meant he was asking her to be his…
Izuku stepped closer, standing directly in front of her, his face mere centimeters from her own, his eyes meeting hers. His hand rose up to cup her cheek. “I will take that life you were going to discard…and I will give it meaning…my daughter will give it meaning…and we’ll give you a reason to keep on living.”
Ochako swallowed. Her heart beating hard within her chest. She wasn’t sure how she should feel about this. Yet…she felt…uplifted…like there might be something more in the future.
“Do we have a contract?” asked Izuku.
Ochako stared into his eyes, losing herself in their forest-green depths…before nodding.
“Then so it shall be,” Izuku promised. “Once I kill Bakugo…you will be mine forevermore.”
He leaned in…pressing his lips to hers. As they kissed, Ochako sighed, melting against him, feeling his arms wrap around her, pulling her in tight. On that night…she sold her soul and, paradoxically, saw the future open up before her.
Despite that unconventional beginning to their relationship, they’d actually gone through all the regular steps; dating, meeting friends and family, moving in together…before finally announcing their betrothal. In addition to his promise to kill Katsuki, Izuku had even thrown in the bonus of extra “embellishments” that he didn’t normally do, in the course of his contracts.
Those embellishments had taken the form of the leaks that had utterly ruined Katsuki’s reputation as a hero. Izuku had no intention of allowing Katsuki to die a martyr, lionized and revered. Katsuki would only die when everyone else in the world saw him for the eyesore that he truly was.
Ochako and Izuku had progressed through their relationship quite normally. Upon meeting Eri, Ochako had been smitten with the little girl on first sight, as were her friends, when they first met her. Meeting Izuku and Eri had truly helped Ochako find a reason to keep on living, and she felt that her parents were hopefully watching over her from the afterlife with smiles…even if she had insisted on murdering the one who’d killed them.
And so…now, after learning that Izuku had done away with Katsuki, once and for all, Ochako felt the last vestiges of tension and unease leaving her body. It was time to begin a new chapter of her life.
Things progressed quickly after that. Izuku and Ochako made their betrothal public, alongside Ochako announcing her withdrawal from heroism. It was a shock to the country, but Ochako made her reasons clear, blasting the Commission and UA for everything they had done to support Katsuki. While she still held those of her friends who remained heroes in high esteem, Ochako now expressed nothing but contempt for the system as a whole, in how it had grossly mismanaged Katsuki at every step of the way. She didn’t even hold back against the departed Aizawa, calling him a “villain-maker”.
The fact that UA saw a sharp decline in its admissions afterwards inspired such a satisfying feeling in Ochako. The Commission would have liked to reprimand her, or even charge her, but were far too busy fending off the criticisms of an irate populace, who had far too much ammunition for the Commission to worry about a single ex-hero.
As for Katsuki, his memorial service was a small, private affair, with not even his parents attending. None of his former-classmates, those still alive, attended, all of them having cut ties with him as his nature became clear. Even Kirishima Eijiro, who had once been Katsuki’s biggest supporter, was unwilling to show his face. Afterwards, Katsuki’s remains were quietly interred in a secret location to avoid his place of rest being defaced.
Around the same time, Izuku and Ochako planned their wedding. If anyone suggested that the timing was a deliberate mockery of the deceased…well...Ochako and Izuku never explicitly said it wasn’t.
Since she wasn’t a hero anymore, Ochako’s wedding was much easier to hold outside of the public eye. That said, there were still quite a few heroes in attendance, such as her friends among her classmates and their sister-class, along with a few others. It was a lovely affair, and though her parents couldn’t be in attendance, Ochako thought they would have liked it.
With a final kiss, Izuku and Ochako sealed their union, and the audience burst into applause. The two of them even lifted Eri up into their arms, kissing her cheeks in celebration as she cheered along with them.
Following that was the reception, with dinner and dancing. Ochako and Izuku took the first dance, naturally. As they danced, Izuku took in the faces around them, silently marveling at how many familiar faces were in the crowd.
There was his mother, of course, who was overjoyed with her new daughter-in-law, to say nothing of her granddaughter. Inko had no idea that Izuku was a contract killer, and would probably be mortified if she did know. She merely knew about Izuku’s front-work as a Quirk Counselor, which he was, admittedly, quite good at.
However, his mother aside, what Izuku truly marveled at was how Ochako was connected to so many of his former-clients and, subsequently, his previous targets…
At the edge of the dance floor, he noted a stunning woman with black hair and onyx eyes, the very picture of feminine appeal. Yaoyorozu Momo…formerly Todoroki…had hired Izuku to kill her husband, one Todoroki Shoto.
During his time at UA, Shoto had been obsessed with spiting his father, the, at the time, Number Two Hero, Endeavor. At UA, Shoto had insisted on stubbornly relying purely upon the ice-aspect of his Quirk and refusing to use the flame component. Demonstrating the same degree of negligence that had allowed Katsuki to get away with his antics, none of Shoto’s teachers had made any effort to correct this, and his obsession with defying and spiting his father developed into a slew of more unhealthy actions.
Among those had been a growing interest in Momo. While Momo had admitted an initial attraction to him, it had withered upon seeing that Shoto’s obsession with defying his father’s will trumped everything else. However, her feelings didn’t matter, when Shoto, upon graduating, used his father’s influence to coerce Momo’s family into accepting a marriage contract with her, essentially a Quirk Marriage.
That had been bad enough. But then Momo had learned an even more disgusting truth. In the course of his training and hero work, Shoto’s over-reliance on his ice, while neglecting his flames had wrought havoc on his body. In particular…he had ended up rendering himself sterile as a consequence. He’d kept this fact from Momo for nearly their entire relationship. When she found out, Momo had been livid, largely because Shoto had deliberately arranged this marriage to entice his father with the idea of more-powerful offspring, only to slap him in the face with the fact that there would be no offspring…essentially reducing Momo herself to nothing more than a prop in Shoto’s play.
Even worse was the fact that, when she learned, Momo had demanded a divorce, only for Shoto to refuse her, and threaten her, if she tried to leave him. For all his hatred of his father, it was supremely ironic that Shoto had grown up to be just as domineering and possessive as Endeavor was, telling Momo that he would use his influence to destroy her family's reputation, or his own power to subdue her physically. As far as Shoto was concerned, even if Momo was nothing more than a prop for a "gotcha" moment to spring on his father, she still belonged to him, and he refused to let her go.
So Momo had explored options…and ultimately turned to Izuku…though she had never met him as Izuku.
Infiltrating Shoto’s agency had been child’s play for Izuku, who’d disguised himself as one of Shoto’s support technicians and performing a little “maintenance” on the support equipment integrated into Shoto’s costume. Because he had neglected his flames for so long, Shoto was now entirely reliant on support equipment to maintain thermal homeostasis, and even a relatively minor exercise of his Quirk could cause his body temperature to plunge to dangerous levels in a flash. A little bit of creative sabotage, immediately prior to Shoto’s next patrol ensured that his next altercation would end with him being overtaken by his own ice, and dying before he could be treated.
Momo had reclaimed her family name shortly afterwards, revealing the depths of Shoto’s sick machinations regarding her to the world at large…and claiming a substantial portion of the Todoroki family’s assets as a consequence, while leaving the rest to Shoto’s mother, older sister, and brother, who were kindred spirits, being fellow victims of Endeavor and Shoto’s abuses. She was now enjoying a relationship with her former-classmate and fellow hero, Jiro Kyoka with rumors of their impending marriage dancing in the air, thankfully free of any signs of coercion this time.
Seated at one of the tables, an absolutely gorgeous young woman, sporting wavy chartreuse-green hair; which shimmered with pink, blue, and yellow in pearlescent shades; cheered and clapped, her eyes dancing with rings of those same colors as she smiled brightly.
Hagakure Toru had made her mark as an actress and model with her stunning looks and vivacious personality. Her Quirk’s mastery over the domain of light was a perfect pairing with the camera. She had once been one of Ochako’s classmates as well, but had withdrawn from UA partway through her second year.
The reason for said departure was one Shinso Hitoshi, a student who had failed to make it into the Hero Course through the regular entrance exam, and had thusly worked to earn a place through his performance in the Sports Festival. That would have been laudable, if Hitoshi had committed to being an actual member of the Hero Course. However, from the moment he had joined them, he had treated them with nothing short of sheer contempt, carrying a massive chip on his shoulder, always ready to play the victim card over the perception of his Brainwashing Quirk, which he was all too eager to abuse.
Izuku had a special disgust for people who complained about being discriminated against, because of their Quirks, then actively lived down to the stereotype.
Sadly, Hitoshi had the protection of Aizawa, who clearly favored the boy, happily bending over backwards for him even more than Katsuki, Hitoshi being the one student in the entire class who could actually get away with antagonizing Katsuki. Naturally, that favoritism inflated his ego, and inspired some truly abhorrent behavior.
Things had come to a head when, during a serious exercise, Hitoshi had used his Quirk to force Toru’s boyfriend, Ojiro Mashirao, to act as a human shield. Not only had it been completely unnecessary, but Hitoshi had forced Mashirao to do so in a way that practically assured he’d take a fatal injury as a consequence. It was practically murder.
And Hitoshi had gotten away with it, Nezu and Aizawa brushing his actions under the rug as easily as Katsuki’s, explaining it all away as a simple training accident; unfortunate, yes, but nothing worth punishing Hitoshi for.
After that, Toru had left UA, declaring she wanted nothing to do with “villain-makers”. She had explored her other talents and, with the assistance of a certain Quirk Counselor, had eventually figured out how to make herself visible, in addition to discovering the full extent of her Quirk's power, which had led to her new career. But she never missed an opportunity to call out UA, its teachers, and Hitoshi for what they had done, openly calling Hitoshi a villain at every opportunity, even after he’d graduated.
Hitoshi had retaliated with harassment, which had graduated into full-on stalking…to the point where Toru legitimately felt her safety was under threat. Knowing that the powers that be were just as vested in protecting Hitoshi as they were Katsuki, she had turned to desperate measures.
She had no idea that the kindly Quirk Counselor who’d helped her unlock her true potential was also the very same man who would make her problems go away. Izuku had disguised himself as a police officer, and snuck into the precinct Hitoshi used as his main base of operations as an Underground hero. When Hitoshi had looked away, Izuku had applied a neurotoxic agent to the interior of the Persona Chords Hitoshi wore over his face. As Hitoshi began his patrol, the liquid had started to evaporate, and Hitoshi had inhaled the fumes, inducing a faster version of the same effect as the poison that Izuku had used on Katsuki.
Hitoshi had actually had his body fail him, in the process of traversing between buildings, and plummeted to the ground, the impact killing him before the poison could.
At another table, Izuku saw two students who were actually Ochako’s seniors by one year; Kabutoyama Hiroki, who sported a prominent beetle mutation, and Wanchan Kaede, sporting a dog mutation that gave her the face of a spaniel. They had been the ones to contract Izuku to kill Aizawa Shota, their first-year homeroom and Heroics teacher.
After all, Aizawa had expelled their class on the very first day of their time at UA, before reenrolling them, after giving them a taste of “death” as he had put it. That had been bad enough on its own right, but that wasn’t what had prompted them to come to Izuku.
No, that had been the death of their classmate, Fuwa Mawata. Mawata had been the person who had rallied the class together, trying her best to believe that Aizawa had been trying to help them, in his own twisted fashion, reasoning that there was no way that Aizawa and Nezu would be so callous as to allow their records to be so badly marred by a mark of expulsion, and that its presence was another “rational deception” by their teacher, or would be retracted after their graduation.
Sadly, she had been proven wrong. Not only was the mark still there, but it was very real. It had undermined everything from their internships to their work studies, preventing them from making effective connections within the industry. And after they had graduated, they were quick to find themselves unable to get positions at any decent agencies, dragged down by the mark that Aizawa had so “generously” inflicted upon them.
In her shame at having so ardently defended someone who had sabotaged them like Aizawa had…Mawata had taken her own life, her suicide note consisting of nothing but profuse apologies for all the friends she had failed.
It had hit the rest of her classmates hard. For all that she had been wrong about Aizawa, she had also been the one who had worked the hardest to ensure that they did their best to live up to their potential as heroes, and had been a driving force for their success throughout their school years, well-liked by her friends, who didn’t even really hold her defense of Aizawa against her, because her line of thought was perfectly reasonable. It had been Aizawa and UA that had been unreasonable for thinking that what they had done was an appropriate approach to teaching.
And so, two of Mawata’s closest friends had come to Izuku, seeking justice for her…and themselves.
Infiltrating UA had been quite the feather in Izuku’s cap. The place was infamous for its tight security measures. Perhaps that might have been challenged, had Izuku not dealt with a few certain villain organizations while still cutting his teeth on the business. However, Izuku had easily infiltrated, disguising himself one of the students (knocking a particularly obnoxious one out and borrowing his uniform and gate pass for the day) to get past the UA Barrier, before slipping through the school’s other myriad security measures to reach the faculty office.
There, Izuku had added a little something “extra” to Aizawa’s coffee cup, before the teacher had come in for work that day. When Aizawa had drunk it, he’d experienced symptoms akin to those of the onset of a cold, which, as Izuku’s research into the man’s habits and patterns of behavior had revealed, prompted him to take his sleeping bag and curl up in an out-of-the-way nook to try and sleep it off, refusing to be disturbed by such trivialities as his students or, God forbid, his actual job.
Aizawa wasn’t found until almost a full day later, his behaviors having raised no red flags among the staff, and only his failure to show up for his evening patrol prompting the realization that something was wrong. He had died over the course of some six hours, his lungs filling up with blood, while he’d been unable to move, his penchant for isolating himself had ensured that nobody would realize that he needed help, until it was too late.
Aizawa’s funeral was almost every bit as desolate as Katsuki’s, attended by only a few of his friends on staff and some peers who respected his work as a hero. Absolutely none of the man’s students had attended, not even those he had particularly favored. Hitoshi might have attended, but was already dead by that point. Aizawa died with the knowledge that his favorite apprentice’s killer was still at large…just for the extra bitter note to the close of his life.
Soon joining Izuku and Ochako on the dance floor were another couple. Amakiji Tamaki and Nejire, who had married shortly after their graduation. They had hired Izuku to avenge their dearest friend, Togata Mirio, by commissioning him to kill Sasaki Mirai, the pro-hero known as Sir Nighteye, and none other than Yagi Toshinori, known to the world as the former Number One Hero…All Might.
As shocking story had turned out, All Might’s Quirk, which had granted him such world-changing power, was transferrable, and after being severely wounded by a certain villain (said villain winding up as one of Izuku’s first contracts), he had begun looking for a successor for his power.
Enter Sir Nighteye, All Might’s former sidekick, who had taken it upon himself to furnish a successor. Sir Nighteye had approached Mirio, earning his trust, building him up, all while grooming him to maximize his resemblance to All Might, clearly with the goal of making Mirio into All Might’s replacement. Then, once they had deemed he was ready, All Might had transferred his Quirk to Mirio who had been gaslit into believing that this was the only way he could live up to his true potential as a hero, and keep society from backsliding back into the era of chaos.
Mirio had worked hard to try and master All Might’s Quirk, which had proven truly difficult, as it had rendered his Permeation Quirk nigh unusable. However, as Mirio began to reach his limits, it had become apparent that All Might’s Quirk was only doing him harm instead. However, All Might and Sir Nighteye had persisted, doubling down on insisting that Mirio work harder and “go Plus Ultra”, believing that what was needed to overcome his hurdle was to push himself more.
It had ultimately broken Mirio. And only as he was laying on his deathbed in the hospital had the two heroes who’d pushed him to this extent bothered to have Mirio’s condition checked, and learned that taking in One For All’s power had instead proven too much for his body, for the body of any person already with a Quirk, to handle.
Perhaps, given all the time he had spent, the depth of the connection that he had forged, Sir Nighteye would have looked for any outlet to save his pupil. Instead, he cruelly rejected Mirio for failing to live up to the ideal that Sir Nighteye had envisioned for him, declaring it a product of Mirio’s weakness, rather than Sir Nighteye and All Might’s failure to realize what they were doing. For his part, All Might had expressed some token sympathy for Mirio, but then left him to his fate.
Mirio had faced his death, expressing his regrets to his dearest friends, who had taken his regrets, and turned them towards his killers, commissioning Izuku to hunt them down.
All Might had actually proven the easier of the two to deal with, the man having completely shut down after his failure. Perhaps it was the lingering guilt of what he had done to Mirio…or maybe it was prompted by his failure to continue the legacy of the one who had passed that Quirk to him. In any case, Izuku had located All Might’s civilian identity of Yagi Toshinori with casual ease…before sniping the man through the window of his apartment.
Sasaki had been trickier to deal with, mainly because the man had immediately tried to flee the country in the wake of Yagi’s death. Perhaps he had deduced that he and Yagi were both targets, or his Foresight Quirk had revealed his eventual fate to him. In any case, it had prompted Sasaki to abandon his agency, and attempt to flee to the United States, and seek asylum there.
And Sasaki believed that he had succeeded. Arriving in America, he had checked into his hotel, paying no mind to the bellhop, who helped move Sasaki’s pile of luggage, which had been rather substantial for someone fleeing for his life.
Said luggage had consisted of the entirety of Sasaki’s All Might merchandise collection, which he had packed very carefully and deliberately, despite the urgency of the situation. His obsession had proven Izuku’s gain though, as that had given Izuku the opportunity to learn the man’s plans and reach his destination before him, Izuku disguising himself as a member of the staff.
Sasaki only realized his error when; in the privacy of his suite, the sight of which had made his face go completely white; the wire of Izuku’s garrote had tightened around his neck, putting an end to the story of All Might’s former-sidekick. His corpse had been found by none other than America’s Number One, Star and Stripe, who had arrived to take him into protective custody…too late.
(Izuku had no way of knowing this, but Sasaki Mirai had indeed had a vision of his own demise. His previous inability to avert the visions granted him by his Quirk should have convinced him that escape was impossible. But the human drive to survive is powerful, and Mirai could not help but make an attempt to escape his fate nonetheless. But upon entering the hotel room where he would meet his end, Mirai wound up recognizing the scenery from his vision of his death, and realizing that, once again, he had failed to avert the future he’d foreseen…for the final time.)
Mirio lived long enough to learn that his friends had avenged him, which eased his passing with the knowledge that the heroes who had abused his trust and callously discarded him had been dealt with.
Tamaki and Nejire had gone on with their lives as heroes, and as a married couple. Nejire was already on maternity leave, their first child on the way. She had even declared that, if it was a boy, he would be named “Mirio”. Predictable…? Cliche…? Of course…but also heartwarming.
It was rather interesting to see that so many of his former-clients were linked together. None of them, save for Ochako, knew who Izuku truly was. For the rest, he had met with them in disguise, or spoken from a burner phone, or communicated via dead drops. Izuku didn’t know for certain what had prompted him to meet Ochako as himself, beyond their shared hatred for Katsuki. Maybe he had already been falling for her, even then.
Not that it mattered now. All that mattered was his new wife, and the future that lay before them.
“So…what do we do now?” asked Ochako.
“You didn’t think I was going to retire after Bakugo, did you?” asked Izuku with an amused smile. He kept his voice low, while they danced on the other end of the floor from where Momo and Kyoka were sitting, Izuku all too conscious of Kyoka’s hearing range and sensitivity
Ochako’s eyes widened. “You’re going to keep going?” she asked.
Izuku’s smile softened into one of resignation. “It’s definitely not over,” he said. “And I doubt it ever will be. Bakugo was just a symptom, but the disease marches merrily onwards. It’s not even the hero system…which is just another symptom, really. It’s something more intrinsic, something baked into the nature of humanity itself.
“It’s honestly funny. I heard that the Commission is calling me the Neo Hero Killer, for all that they aren’t sure that I even exist. But heroes don’t even make up the majority of my targets.”
“They don’t?” asked Ochako, surprised.
Izuku shook his head slightly. “They’re the most visible ones for sure…but at the end of the day, they’re just a sideshow…bread and circuses…without the bread. Heroes fighting villains are loud and flashy, but that’s not where the real evil is found.
“The real evil is in the corporate offices, where the livelihoods of hundreds are destroyed with the click of a mouse or the flick of a pen, all so that some fat-cat CEO can pad their own wallet at the expense of others…
“The real evil is in the halls of government, where someone will order the deaths of thousands for the sake of their own convenience, rather than fulfilling the responsibilities of their position…
“And that’s just on the supposedly law-abiding side of things…Drug lords, human traffickers, organized crime syndicates…and those who enable them…they’re all targets for me.
“Like I said, the disease is far more intrinsic to human nature than any single flawed system. It’s plagued humanity since long before Quirks had ever appeared. Every system will have its flaws, and there will inevitably be those who seek to exploit them, those who seek their own power and profit above all else, not caring who else they destroy along the way, believing that, if they accrue enough for themselves, they will be beyond the reach of any retribution, even subverting the forces of law and order themselves to become their shield.
“And I exist to remind those people of another intrinsic truth, something more fundamental still. I exist to remind those people that, at the end of the day, they are not immortal. No matter how much power or capital they accrue, it will not keep the inevitable at bay…and one day…they will be interred within the same ground, alongside the very people they considered themselves so far above…”
Ochako listened, fascinated. Perhaps she should have expressed more trepidation. Izuku was a killer. He was going to keep on killing. But if there was something that Katsuki had taught her…it was that some people just needed to die. Bakugo Katsuki had been a plague on the world, bringing nothing but pain and misery to everyone around him. And there were doubtlessly more people like that out there.
So if it meant taking down people like that, Ochako found she didn’t mind.
“You want to join me?” asked Izuku.
Ochako’s eyes widened. “R-Really?”
“You don’t have to,” said Izuku. “Killing is something you need to get used to, and it isn’t for everyone. If you want to do something else with your life…even if it’s just being my wife and Eri’s mom…that’s fine. But…after Bakugo, I’d think that you’d like to help.
“Your story isn’t unique. There are countless people out there like you, who suffered like you, who’ve had their lives upended and ruined, with the perpetrators being shielded and rewarded, rather than punished. And we can help them get the justice they deserve.”
Ochako’s expression was pensive at first. But then…gradually…her face morphed into an eager smile.
Izuku grinned back. “We’ll show them all…that no one is untouchable.”
“I think I’d like that,” said Ochako.
And the two of them danced the night away.