Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Sensei is a fucking idiot, Shigaraki Tomura thinks to himself as he barrels out of the facility. Ignoring every blaring red light and flashing sign that assaults his senses, he grabs at every alarm and door and wall until it’s all crumbled to dust. Sensei can try all he likes. He won’t be keeping Tomura stuck in here as the fooled little lamb for his sick games any longer. Tomura is done with that.

It’s cold as hell and smells of wet dirt outside, heavy rain stamping the roads. The smell of debris and rubble is poignant; don’t tell him those stupid little heroes are still recovering from that last war. Tomura needs them in pristine condition right now, if he’s to have any hope of salvaging this garbage situation.

“Tomura,” his Sensei threatens over the speakers, voice displeased. “Stop this little tantrum at once. Come back before I get angry and—”

“Shut up, Sensei,” Tomura hisses at the man’s threatening voice. He grabs at the speaker with a growl, the black box crunching in his grip as he crushes it before it’s fully decayed. “I’m done with you.”

Which way was the city? He has no idea as to which lab Sensei shoved him inside this time. If the universe were kind, he shouldn’t be too far off from Musutafu, but when has the universe ever chosen to spare Shigaraki Tomura?

There’s no time to waste with idiotic hopefuls such as that though. Dragging the thin, rain-soaked rags of his hospital gown a little tighter around him, Tomura grits his teeth and glares through the raindrops. He has only one mission right now, and that is to locate the brat known as Midoriya Izuku. Everything else is secondary.

The last time Midoriya Izuku saw and spoke with All Might was fifty-two hours ago. A little over two days, and their conversation since then has yet to leave his mind. He can’t stop replaying the awful things he said to his mentor in his head.

It had been a necessity, Izuku argued to himself—the world has been in a rough state for a while now, and even though he wishes for nothing more than the ability to let his carefully built defences down and sob apologies to the retired hero, the current situation will not allow him to do that. There are pressing stakes at hand here, with the issue of All for One and Shigaraki Tomura, and that’s not even mentioning the suspicious, newly emerging noumu subjects. Izuku has to get to the bottom of these problems first before he can go making amends with his mentor.

Still, he is on break right now. He won’t have the time to find All Might in person, but maybe a brief phone call could alleviate some of his stress. He’s sure All Might would be happy to hear from him too, after so much quiet these past few days...

The thought just has Izuku frowning with guilt. He’s been a terrible successor lately.

Fumbling for the zipper, Izuku tugs the pocket open and pulls out his phone to chase away the mood. There’s no point in overthinking what’s already been done. He can make it up right now with a few short words to smooth over tensions. His real sorries can be given later, when they’re both at better peace and without as much stress.

Dialling up the familiar contact, Izuku raises it up to his ear and smiles, waiting to hear his hero’s voice. “Hey, All Might—”

“The number you have dialled cannot be reached at this moment. Please try again, or call later.”

That is… odd. His mentor doesn’t normally make a habit of missing his calls. Izuku calls the number again, waiting on the ringing, only to receive the exact same message. He ends the call. Is All Might mad? Is that why he isn’t answering? Something sparks dully in the back of his head; Danger Sense, Izuku recognises.

(Maybe the hero got injured. He might be in trouble right now, and Izuku should have been there instead of rushing off like a rebellious teenager at their last meeting. Stupid idiot.)

He’s overthinking it, Izuku is sure. He shakes his head to clear the dark thoughts. All might must just be busy at this moment. If he calls him later, he’s sure his mentor will answer, and—

“Deku,” a quiet voice breaks through the silence. Izuku jumps.

“All Might?”

“What?”

It’s just Hawks. Stupid. His break passed by without him even realising, and Izuku already has an idea of what the pro-hero wants now. He taps on his earpiece, turning the communicator’s volume up and clearing out his previous thoughts. He’s got to focus now; he has a job to do.

“No, my bad,” Izuku shakes his head. “What is it?”

“Don’t sweat it.” A quiet huff of laughter on the other end, before Hawks sobers up. “There’s a new outbreak near your location.”

So that was what his quirk was picking up on earlier. Izuku groans internally, shaking the rain out of his hair and pulling his hood over his head. Of course, of course. “I see. Is there anybody else nearby?”

Backup would be nice in this situation. It isn’t impossible, but facing the noumu head-on by himself is still less than ideal. Especially this new, mutated strain, composed of living subjects instead of the dead— Izuku isn’t sure whether he finds it better or worse. Massacring the bodies of the dead for those grotesque experiments was crude and tasteless to begin with. Subjecting a living person to that kind of cruelty is even more barbaric.

There’s a long, reluctant pause before he gets his confirmation. “... No.” In a more hesitant tone, Hawks asks: “Can you handle it by yourself?”

Obviously. Izuku is already running, honing his senses in on the buzzing signal. The rain whips past his face in a frenzy of cold wind, and he squints as the droplets catch on his eyelashes. It’s cold today. Not suited for work. When is anything ever these days?

“You sound like Endeavour,” he mutters under his breath. The flame hero is always lecturing for him to take better care of himself. None of the pro-heroes are particularly thrilled about Izuku taking matters into his own hands, but there haven’t been many objections either. Given the current state of things, who would be moronic enough to reject him? The heroes are in desperate need of support. Izuku knows this, and if he’s pushing it past the limits of what would usually be allowed…

Well, they have yet to call him out on it.

“We’re just worried about you, kid.”

“I’ll be fine.” Blackwhip shoots out and grips onto a lamp post. Izuku swings through the empty, deserted street, eyes glazing over the abandoned block. “Will you tell All Might to call me later, when he’s free?” He pauses, trying to find the right words to phrase it without coming off as too clingy. “I want to talk to him.”

“All Might? Well… sure, but he hasn’t been responding—”

“Thanks, Hawks,” Izuku says, ending the call as he approaches the building block. That’s enough conversation. He has to focus here now. Whatever surviving civilians are still within this area need to be evacuated. Dropping down to the road, he looks up at the building sign. Nothing remarkable or exciting, as usual. It’s a simple workers’ office.

Not all of the details of the new noumu case have been released yet, but from what little Izuku has heard, the bioengineered victims came mostly from undocumented strongholds and warehouses. Hidden labs. An office building stationed in the middle of downtown has nothing to do with any of those.

Caution, his teachers would advise him. Always proceed with caution. It’s the number one most forgotten rule. Pulling his scarf up, Izuku pushes the door open. It creaks in the otherwise quiet atmosphere— he waits for a reaction.

Absolutely nothing. It should be safe to go in, right?

The place looks relatively normal when he enters. The receptionists’ desks are empty, but the lights are still on. Izuku glances around the empty lounge. Not a single guest is waiting here, but he can see bags and belongings tucked under some chairs. In the best-case scenario, everyone managed to evacuate in a hurry. In the worst…

That’s not something to be dwelled on. Proceeding further, Izuku glances down the hallway.

Past here should be the worker offices. He can see moving forms, but there is no sound. With the exception of leathered shoes scuffing across the tile flooring, there’s essentially no noise present. He’ll have to be very quiet if he wants to remain undetected. Ducking into a cubicle, he keeps his breathing steady.

The noumu are very quiet. It’s difficult to gauge how large their numbers may be, and Izuku isn’t looking to go barrelling into a reckless fight today. He just wants to save any potential civilians still in the area, quick and easy. This doesn’t need to be turned into a long fight, now, okay?

Peeking over the top edge of the cubicle he’s currently hiding out in, Izuku holds his breath as he surveys the scene.

A few lumbering, slow bodies. With human form and stature, and it would be very difficult to tell that these creatures were noumu if it weren’t for the telltale signs. Strange mutations on their backs and the structure of their bodies, bleeding gums, discoloured skin. He can’t forget the dull eyes, either.

All noumu are braindead beings. They don’t have the capacity for thought anymore.

It seems even the living victims of this plague aren’t spared that burden.

Izuku has never actually seen the living subjects before. It’s an odd sight, arguably more chilling than the dead variant. At least with those noumu, he’s given the mercy of knowing the people whose corpses were dragged into this mess have already passed away. With these noumu, though, there’s no way of being sure the victims are spared from the ensuing pain and torment.

How much can each person feel? How conscious are they, inside their rotting minds? How did this even come to be in the first place? The reason dead people were more preferable for the noumu testing was due to availability, or so Izuku had deduced. Panic isn’t as widespread when a dead body goes missing, and deceased subjects are generally less resistant to work with.

The fact that there are so many new noumu springing up is… concerning, to say the least.

There’s no point in stressing over these factors, though. He’s sure a lot went flying beneath the radar after the events of the first war, so this is really nothing new. Waiting for the slow noumu to pass by his station, he creeps out and wanders further into the quiet office. Not a single soul is present to be seen.

Briefly, Izuku debates the pros and cons of calling out to see if he might get a response. That would probably just draw the noumu’s attention towards himself, though, and he already planned on avoiding a fight if possible. He’s sure the other heroes are sending reinforcements to this place, but it’s a dangerous gamble on when anybody will actually arrive. And, contrary to what some people might believe, Izuku does value his life.

More searching it is, then. Danger Sense has been on low alert the entire time, wary of the present noumu but not picking up on any other entities. Nobody should be in active harm yet, then. Good to know.

Although that does beg the question… is anybody human even still in here?

Hawks wouldn’t have sent him into an empty crisis. At least, Izuku would like to think so. Perhaps the hero was simply unaware. Reaching for his cell again, he tries sending a message to ask if this outbreak really is as new as Hawks claimed it to be. His phone buzzes in irritation at the attempt.

No signal.

Downtown, trapped in the centre of the city, and he’s getting no signal. It sounds stupid. It is stupid. Izuku stares at the screen with betrayal, watching it buzz again in denial. That can’t possibly be right.

The noumu are turning their heads on him now, alerted by the quiet notification in the otherwise dead silent building. If it wasn’t certain before, he’s very sure of it now: there are no people in this building. Why was he sent here?

It’s a funny, brief second of peace, before everything goes to shit.

Izuku screams as a noumu suddenly begins charging at him, the slow speed it had been stumbling around earlier put to shame with the intensity with which it rockets forward. Danger Sense sparks in his head, warning him of the incoming attack he can very clearly see. He jumps up with Float instinctively, wincing in pain as his head crashes into the ceiling above.

It’s cramped in here. He’s got to remember that this is an office building— there won’t be as much liberty or freedom of movement compared to the outside. And outside is exactly where he should be heading; he can question Hawks on what this stupid mission even was later. Clearly, there’s nothing but trouble waiting for him inside this place.

The noumu below growls in irritation, reaching up and dragging him down by his ankles. Izuku zips out from the grip, but another noumu is grabbing and slamming him against the ground before he has time to react. That sure hurts. His head is dizzy from the impact.

The problem isn’t necessarily that they’re too fast for him to pick up. It more so has to do with their numbers, and the abilities they have within those deceptively human bodies. Faster and stronger than any normal quirk user; if Izuku is to adapt, he’d better start now. Danger Sense manages to save him from another blow, sparking hot and vivid in his head. Izuku rolls to the side with a grunt, feeling the floor tremble from the intensity of the blow afterwards.

Yep. He definitely can’t afford to be taking on any more hits. Forget complaining to Hawks. At this rate, Izuku will count himself lucky if he can even get out of this mess unscathed.

Shooting Black Whip out to stabilise himself, he floods the cramped space with Smokescreen. At least this way, the noumu won’t be able to rely on their vision as easily. In the best-case scenario, he can escape through the fog. Forcing the sensation of pain to the back of his head, Izuku tries to gather a sense of his bearings. Which direction did he enter from again? He got his senses a little messed up from being thrown around.

At the corner of his eye, Izuku notices something crumbling. Strange. He doesn’t recall smashing or being smashed into any drywall.

The drone of the noumu’s growling is like an incessant chanting in his ear, and he narrowly dodges out of range from another careless, blinded swipe. “Fuck,” someone curses, and Izuku is inclined to agree. This really isn’t ideal, and—

Wait. What?

He had been sure there wasn’t anybody else in the building. None of his usual alarms were ringing or alerting him to anything else other than the noumu, and if it really were another civilian, surely they would have seen him when he drew all the noumu’s attention by accident. Just who is here with him?

“Is somebody there?” Izuku calls out, squinting through the fog. The sound of further growling is his main response— he forgot that the noumu responded to his noise, whoops— and more foggy forms begin advancing towards him. Izuku darts back through the smoke, but he’s sure they’ve already caught sight of him. He’s got to leave now. But what if there really is someone stuck in here with him?

“Don’t go recklessly shouting like that, idiot!” the same raspy voice yells, and the dull growling around him becomes louder and further agitated. “Are you trying to get killed?”

A body rushes forward, hands clawing through the air. He isn’t sure if that was a noumu or his unexpected companion. Izuku stumbles backwards, the heel of his shoe slipping on something fine and dusty; a pile of powder, carelessly scattered all over the floor.

Now he’s certain that wasn’t here earlier. Neither are the accompanying bloodstains streaked on the floor.

Izuku furrows his eyebrows, squinting at the carnage. He’s seen this before. What is Shigaraki doing here?

“No. No,” Izuku says, and his head snaps up so fast it hurts. A noumu is in front of him, its hand reaching out to crush his head into a bloodied, pulpy mess of brain matter and bone fragments. He misjudged the situation. This isn’t some random outbreak at all. This was designed specifically by someone, to lure him in here.

“Yes,” Shigaraki snarls, and the noumu crumbles to dust and ash and blood before him. It splatters onto Izuku’s face and costume, and he blinks, skin sticky with gore and speckled powder. “It’s me, congratulations. You get one achievement.”

“What?” Izuku asks, lost.

“Nothing! Follow me, idiot.” Then Shigaraki is running off, blurry form obscured by the fog. Izuku narrows his eyes. Smokescreen is beginning to disperse. The noumu around them aren’t as prevalent anymore, their numbers having dwindled considerably in the brief few minutes he shrouded the area with fog. Did Shigaraki do all of that?

Not even a single human remain is left to be seen. Nothing to indicate the noumu that were infesting this area earlier even existed. Izuku stares at the scene in slow, quiet horror; he almost misses it when Shigaraki clicks his tongue in annoyance, already having run up to the door up front.

“Are you just going to stand there, hero?” Shigaraki scoffs. “I said to get out. Or can you not follow directions?”

“I heard you the first time,” Izuku frowns, before hardening his expression into a scowl. “Shigaraki.”

Shigaraki looks at him with something unimpressed, eyes unreadable. “Midoriya,” he snarls in return. And then the villain is running back, hand reaching to grab him. Izuku braces and prepares Black Whip to fling him off. Shigaraki grabs onto one of the black tendrils, to his surprise, and then he yanks it, hard. “I want you to get the fuck out of this building!”

Izuku is sent flying through the air against his own obligation for the second time that day. He grunts in pain as he eats the cement— it’s only thanks to Black Whip wrapping protectively around his form that he manages to cushion the fall and avoid any further injury.

Shigaraki is glowering at him when he stands back up. “When I say to leave a place, I expect you to leave it.”

“And why should I?” Izuku snaps back rhetorically, growing defensive. He’s so very lost right now. What was that whole ordeal back there with the noumus about? Why is Shigaraki of all people here with him? “What are you even doing here? Aren’t those your noumu? What’s that all about?”

Interestingly enough, Shigaraki’s expression sours as if Izuku has insulted him and all his resulting bloodline. “Don’t lump me in with those freaks,” he grumbles. “I don’t have anything to do with them. That’s all Sensei’s stupid plan.”

“I don’t believe you,” Izuku scoffs, narrowing his eyes at the villain. One of the villains he’s been hunting, matter of fact. Bracing for a charge, he readies his stance. “It’s awfully convenient you’ve shown up in a place full of noumu. Was that one of your traps? Overwhelm me and then pop as some kind of stupid surprise?”

It’s too bad for Shigaraki that Izuku isn’t falling for any of his bullshit. They aren’t surrounded now; he can afford to be a little aggressive. Readying himself, Izuku takes a deep breath and feels the crackle of One for All build beneath his skin. He launches forward at the villain, determined to apprehend and get some proper answers out of him.

“Testy bitch—!” Shigaraki swears, stumbling to the side in a clumsy dodge. Human, poorly coordinated. Why didn’t he use one of his new hundred-something quirks to retaliate? Izuku recovers quickly, bracing himself for the worst. “Stop that! I’m not your enemy!”

What a big load of garbage. Izuku scowls, offended that Shigaraki seriously thought that flimsy lie would work. “Excuse me? You quite literally are. What are you talking about?”

Maybe their last fight did more damage than Izuku realised. Not that it’s any great feat. Shigaraki was already a bit of a loon from the start, so he’s only really amplified an issue rather than created a new weakness.

Shigaraki glares at him as Izuku comes kicking from above a second time, this time reaching his hand up with all five fingers splayed out. Izuku tenses, just barely redirecting his feet in time to avoid some sort of horrifying, inhumane fatality that probably wouldn’t have even left his remains intact. He skids across the road, eyes never leaving Shigaraki even once, and nothing— nothing? Comes out of the villain’s hand.

That isn’t right. Where are his quirks? Where is his backup? And really, why is Shigaraki even here? This whole thing feels suspicious, even when ignoring the absence of the dark holes in the pit of his palm. Izuku doesn’t want to start imagining what that might imply.

“You…” Izuku wets his lips, breathing heavy. “What are you trying to do right now?”

“Damn it,” Shigaraki mutters under his breath, looking at his hand in disappointment. “I was hoping to destroy his shoes.” Turning to face Izuku, the villain’s face twists with a bitter sneer. “I already told you, idiot. I’m not the enemy.”

“Yes, you are. I don’t know why—”

“No, I’m not.” Shigaraki shakes his head, scowling impatiently at him. “I’m the villain, sure. But we’ve got a new boss to fight now, so will you stop trying to kill me for five seconds and hear me out?!”

Izuku stubbornly resists the urge to flinch at the mention of the word ‘kill’. That was not what he was trying to do. That is the exact opposite of his goal, even if everyone else would advise against it. What was that about a boss?

“A new… what?” He can’t help but wonder if this really is Shigaraki. It might all be a really elaborate setup. A mirage quirk, or the work of a shapeshifter like Toga, but what would their endgame even be? What is there to gain from putting on the guise of Izuku’s worst enemy and then trying to break into his circle of trust? He doesn’t understand what angle this person is playing at.

“Sensei has you set up, hero,” Shigaraki sneers, oblivious to his warring internal thoughts. “He organised this place for you to die, for you to be captured, I don’t fucking know. Nothing good, I can promise you that. So why don’t you pipe down and stop making so much damn noise?”

“I know he set me up.” Izuku frowns, still watching him with great hypervigilance. This entire ordeal feels wrong. “You probably helped him do it. No, actually, you are most definitely in on it—”

“I am not in on it!” Shigaraki snaps more forcefully than expected. The villain’s eyes are hateful, scathing as he glares at Izuku. “I’m not working with that bastard on anything anymore. So stop linking my name with his, okay? That isn’t…”

He winds up trailing off in an awkward, angry breath. Only the light pittering of rain fills the remaining quiet. Izuku is perplexed beyond words, and wary of course, so, so wary, but…

This could be the opportunity he’s been looking for. A chance to save his enemy, despite everything else.

“I don’t understand.” Izuku shakes his head. “... What are you trying to do?”

“I’m trying to do the same thing you are,” Shigaraki seethes, slow and annoyed as if explaining to a particularly dumb child. “Defeat Sensei. And we can’t do that,” he jerks a thumb to the building he had thrown Izuku out of just a few minutes earlier, “if you’re dead. Especially with those noumu out now.”

He says that with an air of certain boldness, and Izuku is immensely intrigued. He shouldn’t get his hopes up too high just yet, but Shigaraki might be a good source of intel. Particularly in regards to the issue of finding All for One. That is their targeted supervillain, not Shigaraki… although he is still pretty high up on the list. It might be tricky defending this one to the pro-heroes.

Shigaraki is still watching him with narrowed eyes, surprisingly civil at the moment. The villain scoffs after a moment, tilting his head to the side with a smirk. “But I get it if you’re still apprehensive. If you need a little extra incentive, why don’t you check up on your beloved mentor?”

Whatever pleasant thoughts were still lingering about his head are quickly extinguished with a wave of cold, seizing terror. Izuku frowns, fighting to keep his reaction inside. He’s not so sure he succeeds. His eyes widen a fraction, despite better efforts, and Shigaraki sneers.

“What about All Might?” he questions casually as he can. Shigaraki laughs.

“Don’t give me that. He’s been going radio-silent recently, hasn’t he? You can check for yourself if you want.” The villain’s eyes are cruel. “Don’t worry. I won’t attack.”

“All Might has been responding as he usually does,” Izuku argues, not wanting to think about the ignored call he had earlier. It’s unrelated. Shigaraki is just trying to get under his skin or something, unsettle him like he always does. He’s an absolute master at provoking Izuku, and he’s seen the proof of it time and time again. First with Katsuki, and now with his mentor, but Izuku will not be falling for it this time around. “I just… haven’t been talking with him lately. That’s all.”

“Ooh, really?” Shigaraki snickers, before pausing and scowling. “... really? I didn’t expect that from you.”

“What do you expect from me to begin with?” Izuku can’t help the sarcastic retort. It isn’t as though they’re buddies or anything.

Shigaraki ignores the rhetorical question, crossing his arms over his chest. It makes him look noticeably smaller in the strange black coat he has draped over his shoulders. Briefly, Izuku wonders what happened to the rest of his wardrobe. That coat clearly doesn’t fit him, but it’s not really that important what Shigaraki chooses to wear anyway.

“Go on, Midoriya,” Shigaraki says. “Check.”

Scowling suspiciously for a long moment, it feels like forever before Izuku eventually concedes. Just… it’ll just be a little check. To prove that the villain is spewing nonsense, and All Might is perfectly fine. Pulling his phone out, Izuku calls for his mentor’s number and lets the line ring.

“The number you have dialled cannot be reached at this moment. Please try again, or call—”

He shuts it off before the automated message finishes. “He’s busy,” Izuku defends again.

“Sure he is,” Shigaraki drawls. “Can you find his location? Are you sure of where he is right now?”

Stubbornly glaring at the villain, Izuku pulls open the online map and scans the list for All Might’s name. Of course he’s sure.

All Might should be in his office, where he usually is, or with another pro-hero or two to discuss their plans. He wouldn’t just disappear like that. He has people other than Izuku to keep in check with. Not that Izuku knows who specifically, given their self-imposed distance lately, but he’s sure they exist. They must. All Might isn’t destructive like him; he promised to…

The map is empty. Every other hero’s signal is showing, a bright little red dot to mark out their current activity, but All Might is gone as if he were deleted from the map. Izuku lifts his head up, and Shigaraki is smirking.

“I told you, hero.”

Never mind his ideations of saving that poor little boy. Izuku is going to kill the villain first. Shigaraki is somehow responsible, and Izuku will be damned if he doesn’t get proper answers about what exactly was it that happened to his mentor.

Chapter Text

BAM!

One bash into his head. Then another, and another, and another.

Midoriya is an awful little menace when he’s angry. Tomura had foolishly come here with the intention of rescuing the little hero brat, but he’s beginning to consider if that’s such a worthy endeavour. His efforts might be better spent on different objectives.

Oh, but he’s already made it this far into the mission; he can’t quit and bail now.

“What did you do?!” Midoriya glares at him, an angry mess of kicking, bashing limbs. Tomura mutters curses under his breath as the kid repeatedly aims for a blow at his head. He’s getting some not very pleasant flashbacks to their last encounter. Come to think of it, Deku was kind of losing it there, too.

“Hey, hey- hey!” Tomura tries to grab Midoriya’s leg, his arm, anything to make him stop attacking. Smartly, Midoriya zips back with enviable speed. Seems like he hasn’t lost his wits just yet.

Well, that’s good. Tomura came here betting for the kid to still be in good condition. He needs Midoriya to be able to fight, if there’s to be any chance at taking out Sensei. Although judging on this current reaction, perhaps it’s a good thing he decided to only approach Deku instead of the other heroes. Who knows what kind of backlash he’d face with them?

“Stop that! Didn’t we literally just have this dialogue?” Tomura scoffs, exasperated. If only he still had one of those other quirks, but— ah, no. He shed himself free of that disease for a reason. “I’m on your side!”

“Like hell you are,” Midoriya scowls, spinning into another troublesome attack. Flying up and then swooping down, like some great angel of death. Tomura swears he sees the smoke trails Midoriya is leaving. “After pulling something like that? Explain what you did right now! I know you were involved somehow!”

Ignoring how the concrete quite literally crumbles beneath Deku’s feet, Tomura rushes back. He feels as though he might hurl from all this movement. Can’t that aggravating, stupid teenager just stay still and be civil for five minutes? And after everything Tomura did to save his ungrateful ass…

“I haven’t done anything!” Tomura hisses. If he had his previous form, he could take Midoriya no problem. He’s got nothing left but general body modifications now, though, and even the thought of where those enhancements originated from still manages to make him ill.

Midoriya narrows his eyes. “Maybe so, but you definitely know something. And you’re going to tell me, right now!”

Then he’s coming after Tomura a third time. They can’t keep going at this forever. At this rate, Midoriya is going to render his involuntary rescue attempt worthless, tire them both out before they’ve even reached Sensei’s base, and attract more of those patients. Does he know how much it took out of Tomura, both physically and emotionally, to even make that rescue? He’s still debating whether the results are worth it.

“I know—” Tomura scowls, considering his words. As much as he’d like to scream back, it’s too risky. Who knows what unwanted company Midoriya has already drawn with all his shouting?

He decides to switch tactics. “I know you’re feeling a bit agitated right now, but can you calm down? It isn’t like I purposefully came here to antagonise you!”

Maybe only, like, slightly. Much less than usual, and Midoriya should be grateful for that alone. Using his enhanced strength, Tomura reaches out and grabs onto the dirtied fabric of Midoriya’s fraying, yellow scarf. The hero jerks back, but he’s just a second too late to react. Tomura throws him across the block, far, far away from the source of the noumu. Good. That’s one crisis taken care of.

“I’ll tell you whatever garbage you want to hear later.” Running up before Deku can even think about retaliating, Tomura grabs him by the throat and keeps the stupid, slippery kid pinned against the wall. Do not let him escape. Tomura isn’t sure he can keep up much longer in this fight. “So why don’t you shut up and listen to me, sound good?”

Midoriya looks down, as if processing their current position. His eyes dart to Tomura’s fingers, noting the carefully lifted pinkie— it’s more of a habit than anything else now, Tomura admits. The hero looks back up at him, green eyes narrowed into something venomous.

“You,” Midoriya spits, still acting spiteful but being considerably less flighty, “are such a freak.”

He’s being cautious of Tomura’s hands, as expected. Another win. Ignoring the surface-level petty insult, Tomura just looks at him apathetically, entirely unmoved. “Play nice, hero,” he sneers. “Don’t you want to see All Might again?”

Midoriya wisely shuts up at that. Glancing around the area, Tomura’s gaze darkens as he watches the new staggering figures pour into where they just were a few seconds ago. His suspicions were correct. How many of these new noumu has Sensei been releasing now?

“I’m going to need you to be very quiet,” Tomura warns, before releasing the hero. “Unless you want to be caught by them.”

He gestures to the wandering noumu just across the street. Midoriya blinks before looking down in the same direction, frowning at the sight. He rubs at his throat, coughing quietly for breath.

(Dramatic ass kid. Tomura wasn’t holding him that roughly.)

“What?” Midoriya mutters in confusion, but at least he’s no longer being needlessly volatile. He just seems baffled now. “The noumu? They don’t— aren’t you their master?”

That’s assuming these freaks even have a master to begin with. Tomura rolls his eyes, scowling and watching the zombie-like noumu wander the area. Sensei didn’t have this many stashed in the labs. It seems like that worrying hypothesis might have been more accurate than he would have wanted…

“These guys don’t need a master.” Tomura crosses his arms, leaning lazily against the brick wall he had Midoriya trapped to a few seconds ago. “They have sharper senses than the other noumu. You heard about it, didn’t you?”

He looks pointedly at Midoriya, and the hero nods after a moment of uncertainty. “They’re alive,” Deku says. See, he knew the kid was smart.

“Exactly. It’s probably best you don’t let one of them catch wind of you again.” Otherwise, his Sensei will end up having a field day. Just the thought of that alone makes Tomura feel grouchy, and his face pinches a bit with a sulk.

“I don’t understand,” Midoriya scoffs, and Tomura wonders what about this is so difficult to grasp. “Why are you helping me?”

Ah, that. It’s not necessarily that Tomura wants to help the brat. How should he explain it, without giving up too much of his main motivations? Being overly amicable will just have Midoriya calling his bluff too early, and there’s also the fact that the idea of playing a goodie-two-shoes makes Tomura’s skin crawl. But he can’t come off too guarded, either, or Midoriya will just keep fighting him for more answers.

The fact is that Sensei is too troublesome to deal with on his own. With the way things were progressing back at the lab, there’s no way Tomura could have rid himself of the man, and he’s very well aware of it. Midoriya Izuku has been highlighted as the biggest target right now, so it stands to truth that he’s one of the few people capable of dealing with him, regardless of Tomura’s personal opinion on the matter.

It doesn’t matter what happens after Sensei is dealt with. Heroes are easy to manipulate because of their morals; Tomura has no doubt he can handle things after. For the current moment, though?

“Call it a common interest,” Tomura settles for a half-truth, fumbling with his words. He spies back on the noumu, making sure they haven’t been noticed yet. “You’re looking for Sensei, and I want him out of the picture. I think it sounds pretty simple.”

At least, he thinks it should be. Midoriya does not seem to agree. His eyes narrow suspiciously. “I was also looking for you.”

Yes, that. Tomura knows all about the idealistic moron’s hopes of saving him. He chooses not to address that particular elephant; they can cross that bridge when they get to it. Which, if things are to go as he plans, will never happen, but Midoriya doesn’t need to know that.

“I’m here now, aren’t I?” he scoffs.

“Why do you want All for One gone?”

“... reasons.” None of which this kid needs to know. Tomura’s eyes sharpen a little at Sensei’s name. He really doesn’t want to discuss it. Thankfully, Midoriya seems to have enough sense to understand to leave it alone. “Are you gonna work with me or not?”

“Maybe,” Midoriya mutters under his breath, to which Tomura will take the liberty of assuming means he’s agreeing.

“Good enough for me,” Tomura huffs. Deku is just too reluctant to admit it upfront, but they’ve all had their rebellious days. And he certainly looks the part. He looks terrible, actually. There’s a subtle tightening in his chest that Tomura ignores; he isn’t concerned. He shouldn’t be.

It isn’t any of his business how the little hero chooses to self-destruct, so long as he’s still operational to help him take down Sensei later on.

Although that doesn’t mean Tomura can stop himself from lightly jabbing at the hero’s appearance. “You look horrible, by the way.”

With ghastly dark circles, and his costume still in tatters. Dark stains of whose blood, Tomura won’t ask. He doesn’t remember a whole lot from their last meeting, but he knows for sure he wasn’t the one to inflict such damage. Midoriya’s been getting busy since the last time they talked, huh? He’d say good for him, but that doesn’t really feel suitable in this circumstance.

“Really.” Deku’s whole demeanour seems to grow even more sullen at the dry comment. “You aren’t looking so hot yourself,” he scoffs.

Tomura’s lip curls with an unamused smirk. That was very fair, he supposes. After all the borderline psychotic experiments that the Doctor ran him through, he isn’t expecting to look all that lively. The feeling of death might as well be a permanent company to Tomura. It’s a good comeback!

Not that there’s a whole lot good about this to begin with. Midoriya’s eyes scan up and down his gaunt form, something gloomy dangerously close to breaking over in his eyes. Is he pitying him? Tomura coughs uncomfortably under his breath, probably louder than needed, and Midoriya snaps out of his stupor.

“I’ll… consider helping you take down All for One,” he murmurs, redirecting back to their previous conversation, “if you lead me to him. But you need to help me find All Might first.”

“Of course,” Tomura rolls his eyes. How painfully predictable. “You wouldn’t do anything if we didn’t get that stupid old geezer back safe and sound, anyway. That was a given from the start.”

Sometimes, he wonders what exactly it is that All Might has done for Midoriya to earn such blind, devoted loyalty. It’s dangerous to be like that. People will grasp onto it for whatever leverage they can get. Their situations aren’t all that different— he’d warn Midoriya to be careful around his own sensei of sorts, but like Tomura already said, he isn’t concerned for the kid in the slightest, so…

He shakes his head, trying to clear those stupid thoughts out. Once they get Sensei out of power, he’s done with this impromptu team-up. It’ll only be temporary, or so he mentally insists.

“Sensei probably took him to a lab,” Tomura mutters, refocusing and thinking aloud. “That’s what he was planning before I left. I don’t think that plan has changed just because I broke out.”

He hears Midoriya muttering the words broke out to himself, something disbelieving in his eyes. Tomura ignores him.

“If we run into trouble there, you have to deal with it for me, understand?” he glares at Midoriya, growing serious. “I can’t be using my quirk recklessly. It’s... straining on my body.”

Shit. Tomura definitely could have worded that better, even without giving away the full truth of what happened to him. He can already hear Deku’s unspoken questions. Merciful are the gods, when Midoriya only looks at him in slight bewilderment before accepting the vague explanation.

Either that, or he’s thinking he can pry answers out of Tomura later on. Both routes are acceptable at the moment.

“I can’t say I know exactly which one he’s been taken to,” Tomura wets his lips, “but I’ve got a pretty good idea. It won’t be easy to get into. Are you on board?”

“I’ll be on board when I see All Might,” Midoriya scowls. He didn’t explicitly disagree either, though, so…

“Eh,” Tomura shrugs. “Good enough for me. It’ll be this way, hero… if you can even keep up.”

Then Tomura breaks into a run, letting the kid follow. Heavy exertion is a huge no-no, but running a few paces won’t kill him. Probably. Ideally. It isn’t as though he can outdo the haggard teenager chasing after him. Seriously, Midoriya is looking terrible, and Tomura has to wonder what the so-called heroes were even doing to the kid.

You’d think at a time like this, the pros would be the ones stepping up into the limelight, but nope. Ever since Tomura fled the facility, all he’s been hearing about is talk of the scary green kid with too many quirks. Some people even had the audacity of calling him a noumu, and that idea was just so unbelievably ironic that Tomura couldn’t help but laugh when he first heard it. Hero society fails once again. Shocker.

Still, Midoriya is managing to keep up decently well. Ducking through Musutafu’s largely abandoned roads, Tomura squints through the rain and wind. At this current pace, they should be arriving at the lab in a good hour or two, maybe? He hadn’t been keeping track on his way here, but he also took a bunch of stops and went looting for resources. They won’t be doing any of that this time around.

There is such a thing as being too eager, though. Tomura is already cursing himself when Deku’s presence mysteriously vanishes, the hero suddenly no longer following behind him. He just had to jinx it, didn’t he?

Coming to a halt, Tomura whips around with a frenzy and glares at the newly empty street. Not a single civilian in sight; no Midoriya Izuku to be seen, either. Where could he have possibly run off in the few milliseconds that Tomura decided not to pay attention?

“Midoriya,” Tomura hisses, hearing the familiar sound of a collision. Of course. What was he expecting? Hero scum will always jump for the opportunity to do heroic things. He should have seen it coming from the start. “Midoriya, where the hell did you go?!”

“Down here!” an irritating nerdy voice shouts, just in time for Tomura to witness a cloud of smoke and dust rise from the ground. So he’s actually witnessing nothing, in reality. Lovely.

Midoriya appears to be engaged in a fight, one he probably found through Danger Sense. Tomura wonders whose brilliant idea it was to give Midoriya that kind of quirk. Surely they should have realised that the kid would only abuse it. In his stupid, shitty, heroic way, because that’s just the kind of garbage act someone like Deku will try to pull, and—

Tomura nearly chokes on his own breath when he sees exactly what it is that Midoriya is fighting.

A goddamn noumu. And after everything he told the stupid kid.

“Idiot- fuckass moron—!” Tomura spits as he races to get down there, all humour evaporated. This situation isn’t funny anymore. He’s been trying so damn hard to look on the bright side, after all the shit that went down back at Jaku, but it’s like the universe is actively orchestrating for every little detail in his life to go to ruin. “I said not to approach the noumu!”

“Shigaraki!” Midoriya exclaims, before his words get cut off by the slam of brick. The rest is incomprehensible, with how badly everything is being obscured by the blows of the fight. Something is hurled through the smoke and smashed against the wall; Tomura dearly hopes he won’t see a battered teenager peeling off the cement.

It turns out to be just a slab of rock. He’s thankful to be wrong this time.

“Midoriya!” Tomura shouts through the dust. It’s difficult to tell how much of this is natural smoke from all the fighting and bashing, or if it’s the hero’s stupid quirk again. “Deku?!”

No answer. He hopes the kid is playing safe. He hopes that the smoke isn’t Midoriya’s quirk. That’s exactly what these gross lab experiments are seeking to target, but apparently UA students need warnings spelt out letter-by-letter now for them to take anything seriously.

There’s the low sound of disgruntled growling, and Tomura is already dreading seeing how many have been turned. Midoriya better not join them. He’s gonna kill the sucker if he does. He isn’t sure what he can do without the kid, but that isn’t going to be a worry Tomura will entertain, because he’s getting the moron out of here alive. And still human, ideally.

“Midoriya!” His throat is growing hoarse with all this shouting by now, and the frantic running isn’t doing him many favours either. Tomura already said that over-exerting his body was a very bad idea. He isn’t being left with much choice here, though. “Where the hell did you go, Midoriya?!”

A few misty figures turn at his sound, and Tomura rages curses upon curses inside his head. Of course, now would be the time Midoriya decides to heed his advice and stay silent, when Tomura actively needs him to respond. At this rate, he’ll only end up drawing the noumu and their attention over to himself, and…

Huh. That might not be such a bad idea.

Stomping his foot against the ground, Tomura laughs loudly. Every head of Sensei’s messed-up experiment turns towards him, heads rotted to mush. They only know to chase everything that agitates their surroundings at this point, which is good, because Tomura is an incredible agitator.

“That’s right!” he barks a laugh. “I’m real loud and scary, aren’t I? You want to shut me up, right?! Come and get me!”

He knows exactly what a nuisance he must seem to the noumu right now. He’s been in their exact situation before, after all. As predicted, the growling picks up before a speedy, flighty form launches itself at him. Tomura grunts, shoving the slobbering noumu off. Stupid mindless beast— he can’t afford to be caught down here, or this entire plan goes to shit. Although one could argue that things have already gone downhill, but… shush. Zip it. They aren’t done until Tomura admits defeat.

Running from the noumu, he can only hope that he distracted them well enough for Midoriya to get away. The kid is so smart, there’s no way he hasn’t picked up on the great sacrifice Tomura is making. The real question is whether or not he’ll be putting those smarts to any real use.

“Shigaraki!” Midoriya shouts again, finally back in range. Tomura scowls wildly, looking all around for where the hero wound up this time. “Can you help these people out?”

Nevermind. Clearly, all of Tomura’s hopes are wasted in vain; Midoriya won’t be using his common sense anytime soon. He’ll be lucky if it happens ever. Craning his head back up, Tomura sputters in shock as Midoriya suddenly throws a man at him. A whole human being, that’s a person the kid is chucking at him!

They both grunt as they collide; it’s only by some miracle of reaction speed that Tomura prevents them both from fatal injury and resumes his running. Forgetting the question of how Midoriya even snuck all the way up to that building in the first place, Tomura scowls at the man in his arms, then glares back at the hero.

He can’t believe it. Really, Tomura is flabbergasted beyond belief. He knows his mind is dwindling fraction by fraction with every hour that passes, but even at his full health, Tomura isn’t sure he could have anticipated this.

“Nice catch!” Midoriya shouts to him, and Tomura’s jaw ticks.

“Are you including me in your rescue mission?” he seethes incredulously. “Have you forgotten who I am?!”

“There’s nobody else here!” Midoriya defends, already disappeared back to who knows where. Please don’t tell Tomura he’s going to fight the noumu head-on. “And you said you would help me, didn’t you?”

“With All Might! Not some random civilians!”

“Don’t be picky! We can argue about this later!”

“There wasn’t supposed to be a later in the first place—!” Tomura snaps, but he’s pretty sure Midoriya is too far away to hear him at this point. The noumu are still chasing him on top of it, too.

It would have been fine if they were only chasing Tomura. He’s already been familiarised with the noumu, but throwing this random stranger into the mix completely ruins that. He’s got to get them both out safely now, before the noumu catch them. Although this guy isn’t looking so great, either, now that he’s taking a closer look.

Tomura rescinds his earlier statement. Maybe it turns out they’re both affected.

“Hey, you,” he scowls, glaring hard at the man. He can’t seem to meet Tomura’s eyes, and that’s concerning for more reasons than one might expect. “You still with me?”

“Alive, I’m alive,” the man coughs, and Tomura’s scowl only deepens. “Those were- noumu? I didn’t think that…”

Great. He’s disoriented— another promising sign, Sensei would probably say. Not that Tomura ever thought anything was promising about subjects who fell to ruin. What even is the point of a bioengineered human if their brains end up rotten? They’re dependent on outside control at that point, no better than those auto-programmed guides who fall back to the same five sentence options every time.

Sensei would laugh at him whenever he asked that. It never did settle right with Tomura; the pit of unease in his stomach only grows deeper now.

“What happened before you were attacked?” he frowns. “Tell me exactly what you did.”

“We tried to defend, and- it wasn’t just me,” the man groans, eyes bugging out a little. It isn’t just a matter of fear or adrenaline. He really can’t look straight. His body won’t let him. “There wasn’t, more, it was, there were…”

Tomura drops him immediately, watching the man convulse on the ground in a fit of nonsense. The civilians tried to defend themselves; that means that they must have used their quirks. He fucking knew it.

“Midoriya,” Tomura says, turning around and searching for the kid. “Midoriya, these are—!”

A loud scream pierces through the drone of grumbling, and Tomura’s blood runs very, very, very cold. The noumu jerk back as well, no longer enticed by his simple ruckus. No, they’ve been drawn in by a new target.

“Help,” the man on the floor begs, still twitching in need. What a pitiful sight it makes for. Tomura can only imagine how much more deceivingly helpless it must appear to a sentimental hero. “Help, s’loud- so, so loud—”

“Shut up.”

Tomura is brushing dust off his hands before he knows it, watching the man crumble to ash. Even his blood is minimal, decay already having reached it before it could spill. A stabbing ache of pain floods Tomura’s body again, and he gasps in alarm.

Shit. He already knows not to overdo it, but Midoriya just had to be the big fat saviour, didn’t he? How annoying. It really irritates Tomura, thinking about how this was all perfectly avoidable, had someone just intervened…

No. They’re only in this mess because Midoriya decided to intervene. What was he thinking?

“Midoriya,” Tomura grits, dragging his feet down the road and searching for the brat. “Where the fuck are you?”

Forget trying to save others. He’s got to save Deku first. Following where the noumu are advancing, Tomura peers through the crowd of sickly bodies, desperate for even a flash of green. It’s hard to see anything in this dim light, though, with so many noumu in the way. They’re cramming into one of the buildings. Why?

“Midoriya!” Tomura shouts again. The hero should definitely be close enough to hear him by now. There’s no excuse for being ignored. “Midoriya!”

The noumu who do turn their attention towards him are quickly decayed. He can’t be playing overly safe now; the literal sole reason Tomura even came this far was to get Midoriya’s help. What happens if he loses him here? A quirk as strong as One for All is…

Nope, nope. That’s a scummy, pessimistic line of thinking, and neither of them can afford to entertain such thoughts right now. Shaking off the tremors of pain that rack through his body, Tomura mutters another curse under his breath. This search is taking too long— Midoriya could be infected by the time he gets to him. He might even be dead. Planting his hand on the cement ground, Tomura lets the entire building crumble to dust. He’s careful to keep the spread slow, of course; anything with a working brain should understand to avoid the decaying matter by now.

And everything without one will end up falling victim to it. A grotesque, shrill sort of screeching sounds, and Tomura grins even despite the pain. There it is, the idiots who were caught in his decay.

“Found you bastards,” he sneers, staggering over to where the commotion is coming from. Looking over at the newly discovered noumu, he frowns as he notices what exactly it is they were gathering at.

Midoriya’s body is lying on the ground. He’s bleeding somewhere on his head. It’s difficult to tell where the wound is, with the darkness of the room and the mess of his hair, but that arguably isn’t the worst part.

The hero is unconscious.

Tomura spits curse after curse as he tears the place down. Whether he’s yelling at the noumu or Midoriya, even he isn’t sure anymore.