Chapter Text
The party was fun, much better then Izuku had imagined it would be. But why wouldn't it be? It was the ultimate celebration - or at least it was for Class 3-A of UA high school. Final exams had come and gone and now they were officially graduates, graduates with successful careers in heroism lined up for the near future. They would be remembered as a high point in the school's history, with their class picture hung behind to the side of the blackboard in their old classroom and their photos plastered into UA's brochure as a sign of the school's success in turning out heroes. They had offers from many prestigious agencies waiting for them and a few of them even chances to start their own agencies with the help of more established professionals. This was what it had all been for and everyone had turned out to party because of it. Momo was dispensing fancy drinks from her torso at the bar as a party trick, Bakugo was starting a very aggressive round of karaoke with Kirishima cheering him on, Jiro was behind the DJ's booth with Present Mic as she avidly told him about the offer she had to work with Ryukyu, Denki was building a house of cards on a passed out Ojiro while Mina whispered to him excitedly, Aizawa had somehow managed to fall asleep on one of the large party tables despite the noise and Ochaco was hanging onto Izuku's arm, trying to pull him onto the dance floor.
"Come on! I wanna dance but no-one else will join in!"
"Okay, okay!"
He let her pull him onto the glowing tiles and started swaying to the music with her (ignoring the screeching sound of Bakugo's continued attempt at singing). From here, he could see across the hall into the teacher's lounge; dozens of teachers and heroes were milling around in there, discussing various things in happy tones. He could hear them talking about the potential that his class had, how some were happy to have new sidekicks from the group and how others were annoyed that their offers got rejected. Nezu was standing on top of one of the chairs, keeping them from disturbing the party (and, as far as Izuku could tell, sneakily accepting a few bets on which students would pass out by the end of it). He almost went to look more but Ochaco grabbed his arm and started spinning around with him, cutting a clear path through the now rather crowded dance floor as she laughed before passing him off to Tsu (who only continued the spinning).
After being spun around until he felt sick, Izuku stumbled off the dance floor and collapsed into one of the plastic chairs next to the party tables before hastily catching a water bottle that Bakugo threw him; whether the blonde had been trying to be helpful or to clobber Izuku in the head with a heavy object, no-one could be sure but Izuku still took a long swig of the water. A gruff voice behind him then told him that Aizawa had woken up.
"Nice catch."
Izuku grinned, turning around to meet the man's eyes.
"Thanks Sensei. I've been working on my reflexes."
"You don't have to call me Sensei anymore."
"Yeah...but I kinda want to."
Aizawa sighed but Izuku knew he was smiling under his scarf and his tone was affectionate when he spoke again.
"Determined not to stop being a problem child, huh?"
"You got me there."
"Go back to the rest of them then. Can't be a class party with a student missing."
Izuku laughed a little, standing up and starting to head back over to the rest of his class, who had now formed a circle around Iida to watch him do the most robotic break dancing Izuku had ever seen.
"I'm on it Sensei. I'll give it my one for all."
He saw the teacher grin at the pun as he walked away and he smiled wider as he rejoined his friends and watched Toru's impressive performance as a human disco ball with Denki's help.
It was a good party.
It was silent in Tartarus. It was always silent, maddeningly devoid of any sound in a way that could drive any human insane. Everything was sterile and cold, made of cold metal and coated with poor quality white paint. The guards only spoke to each other in whispers and never to the prisoners. The cells were small, the beds uncomfortable, the hygiene abysmal. Even the air felt stale and old, like it had somehow managed to rot. It was nothing short of hell on Earth, a facility designed only to punish and take retribution on society's most evil. And that was why Kai Chisaki had been languishing there for several years.
He shivered a little as a breeze swept through his cell; he tried to curl up more but he was already so tightly folded in on himself that it just wasn't possible. He hadn't moved in weeks, just sitting curled up in the dark and moldy back corner of his cell as day and night passed him by over and over again. Had he been his old self, he would have been disgusted, would have started flaring up in hives and desperately scrubbing at the germs with an ungodly amount of bleach - but he wasn't himself anymore. It had been too long, too much had happened; he couldn't of held onto his sanity if he'd tried. He had no-one but the guards who loved to make him suffer, nothing but the filth that surrounded him at every turn, nowhere but this dirty little cell that kept him trapped like an animal. Pops had never come back since the meeting after the war, Kurono and the rest of the Shie Hassaikai were in other prisons many miles away and no-one else wanted anything to do with an evil man like him.
Evil. He knew he was evil. He couldn't help it really. Every time he thought about it, tried to think like a good person and actually do something right, he couldn't find it in himself. He didn't have the empathy to care about what he'd done nor did he have the desire to care about anyone he'd hurt. Something was fundamentally different about him, something that meant that he didn't care about what he'd done to Eri or the heroes or any innocents he'd killed; he cared about himself and his own kin and his own plans and nothing else. So he did not care to repent - no, he still hated everyone that had brought him down. His blood boiled when he thought about those pathetic hero students with their vain and impractical ideals and their pretentious self-righteous attitudes; he seethed with fury when he thought about Eri, about how her little escape had ruined everything for him. But at the same time, he knew it was his own fault. He should have done better, could've done better if he hadn't been so blinded by his own pride. He wanted to fix it, to fix his broken relationships with Pops and Kurono and everyone else from the Hassaikai, to fix the plans that he had inadvertently ruined. He longed for it, wished for it more then he'd ever wished for anything else. But he couldn't do that now, not like this. Not when he was dying like this.
He'd known he was dying for some time. The human body had it's limits and he hadn't eaten in so long. He no longer felt hungry, just numb; his skin was stretched tight over his bones, his body having long since taken on a skeletal appearance. The guards could have done something but they didn't care - no-one wanted to help a twisted man like him. He was just another waste of humanity to be chucked into the dilapidated graveyard on the mainland and forgotten about in a shallow grave once he finally died. He would have sighed but he couldn't find the air in his lungs to manage it and all he could do was close his hollowed-out golden eyes one last time as he felt his lungs stop working mid-breath.
Death had always been inevitable.
But then he opened his eyes again.