Chapter 32: HosuNotes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
"Hosu?" All Might asked, surprised by his old mentor's suggestion.
"Yeah," Gran Torino grunted. "The kid's gonna grow stuffy if he keeps butting heads with my old tactics. It's about time to begin the internship for real."
"Mm, you're not completely wrong," the man agreed, scratching his chin.
"Of course I'm not!" The elder's cane struck the ground, close to the Number 1's foot.
"Careful!" Yagi yelped, then looked at his successor, who was waiting for their decision with anticipation. "How do you feel, Young Midoriya? You're up for some good ol' patrolling?"
Gran grumbled something about the superfluous adjective while Izuku nodded. "Yes! I've been waiting for you to show me the ropes!"
Yagi chuckled, happy to see such passion. "Well then, I'll get the car."
"Let's get going kid!" Torino yelled, opening the door with purpose.
"Yes sir!" Izuku replied, smiling and skipping behind the two.
Izuku appreciated having Gran as a confidant. Who else would be decisive enough to bring him to a soon-to-be-warzone to fight a serial killer while passing the whole thing as an accident?
Though he could have done without the nagging during the car ride...
Stain grunted in displeasure as he heard the terrified screeches and the roaring sounds of battle coming from the city.
"So flashy... what is that idiot doing?"
It was clear that the League and him were like oil and water: both liquids, but unmixable.
He was the solution to a fundamental problem of their society, now a putrid swamp where flies festered. His reclamation would set the basis for new, solid, better foundations.
Shigaraki was a cancer born of that same environment, something which only sought to destroy. He would see the world burn and make sandcastles in the ashes.
He ought to extirpate him and his ilk soon enough, as those kinds of weeds would only further ruin the garden he'd been so carefully curating.
"I'll take care of him later. But for now..." Stain turned, moving his sight back on the Fake who could only tremble as he remained pitted against the wall. "... I'll do what I came here to do."
No garden could flourish without the right compost, and this was much more than any of those laughable undeserving excuses for Heroes could have ever aspired to.
The Fake, Native, muttered something unproper, a further confirmation of his unworthiness. Not even his last words would have been worth remembering.
The killer raised his blade. No more than a single blow was needed.
He never got to bring it down.
Stain didn't have a Quirk that made him unnaturally powerful. Everything he could do was a product of training and experience. His body was a tool locked on a single purpose, a blade sharpened by hardships and willpower. The man trusted his instincts like nothing and nobody else.
So, when his senses screamed at him to let go of his weapon and jump to his left, he did so with no hesitation whatsoever. And not wasting that precious second on doubt was the only thing that let him escape immediate capture.
His soles scraped the alley's ground as he landed, crouched and with a new blade already between his fingers, looking at the spot he'd just left as if his life depended on it. He saw a black tendril holding his blade for a moment, before the metal clattered on the ground as the apparition slithered back, disappearing inside the gauntlet of an approaching enemy.
The new arrival couldn't have more than fifteen, maybe sixteen years of age, both for his height and his young visage. A visage that Stain recognized.
"You..." he whispered, his eyes drawn onto the stance of the young man. "You're that kid from U.A.'s Festival."
The winner. The first kid to have ever received a public approval from All Might himself.
"I am," the teen answered. His face seemed relaxed, yet focused. He wore a small smile that would have reassured civilians, but his gaze was laser focused on the killer. "Midoriya Izuku, pleasure, though tonight I'm here as Everybody's Hero: Fulcrum."
The Hero killer clicked his tongue.
- A grand name. But is he worth of it? -
"W-What're you d-doing here kid?! You g-gotta run!" The Fake tried his best to scream and turn him away.
Stain mentally snorted. He had done something right in the end, and least.
"He's right," he croaked, taking a step forward. "You're still young. You may become a True Hero, but this isn't a place for kids. Leave, and your life will be spared."
"No." The word reverberated on the walls.
Stain's eyes widened ever so slightly. "What?"
"I'm not leaving Native," the kid said, raising his arms and getting into a different position, not overly aggressive, but nonetheless ready for a fight.
He grunted, both appalled and elated by the refusal. Had he run away, the kid would have sealed his role as a coward and a Fake. The refusal made him... interesting.
"It's my duty to turn Fakes into motivation for more worthy Heroes. I won't leave until that one is killed." He turned his blade slowly, preparing his move. "If we clash, the weaker of us will culled, as it's only natural."
"Still," the kid shook his head lightly, "I've made my decision. Helping everyone, even when it's not asked for, is what makes a True Hero. Abandoning someone in need would make for a very poor first act, wouldn't it?"
A shiver vibrated down the killer's spine. He could feel the corners of his mouth moving to form a wide, horrifying smile.
"Hero Killer Stain, you claim to be a liberator. A nurturer of True Heroes and a culler of Fakes. You don't think that change is possible without suffering, blood and death," the boy stated, his voice calm as it echoed on the walls. "I am Fulcrum, All Might's protégé and future Hero. Tonight, I'm here to prove you wrong. I'll save your victims, and I'll save you from yourself."
Stain didn't think it was possible for him to smile wider, or for a purer reason.
He claimed he would be saving not only a victim, but a Villain too. Who but a True Hero would be so bold as to make such a claim?
Fulcrum met his eyes, green and red clashing in a silent battle of wills.
"So be it."
His instincts were contradicting themselves. They were screaming to leave, to leave the dangerous boy be, and at the same time they wanted to charge, to prove themselves against this new opponent.
Stain knew which part he wanted to follow.
He sprung forward, ready for what may become his last battle.
Izuku remembered how hard his first fight with Stain had been. Shoto, Tenya, and him had been terribly close to failing. They had won thanks to a combination of sheer luck and numbers.
Stain was a great fighter. In a one-on-one contest he was possibly on par with Heroes in the top thirty at the very least, possibly top twenty, and his Quirk would make most matches impossible to win after a single graze. Anybody making the slightest mistake or losing focus for a single second would be defeated without a question.
The man once known as Akaguro Chizome was so focused on his mission that there would be practically no way of making him change his mind or making him waver during a confrontation. Any suggestion of collaboration to ease his punishment would be met with anger and blood, as in his own belief no True Hero would ever come to terms with a Villain.
No Hero, True or otherwise, could make him stop with words. Even All Might, though he could win easily in a fight, wouldn't be able to persuade him to surrender. Stain wanted to be caught by the Number 1, or someone equally worthy, if they existed, but he had no intentions of making it easy. Nobody else had the force of will to continue his work, after all.
Then there was Izuku.
The boy blocked another attack, letting the blade slid onto his metallic bracer and pushed himself away by placing both feet on the adversary's chest, adding a bit more damage onto him by taking out the air in his lungs with a quick thrust. He landed after stopping his fall with Float, speaking without losing sight of the enemy for one moment.
"You were Stendhal once, weren't you?" he asked, his steady tone making it clear that no answer was needed. The man growled in displeasure as he continued. "You were a good Vigilante. You saved lives. You ended Villains. What changed?"
"I finally saw how deep the rot had stained the system," Stain spat as he charged on, his weapons unable to find a hole in the kid's defenses. "I've seen False Heroes cause more damage than any Villain could. Useless Fakes moved only by glory and money, mudding the very mantle they wore, whoring themselves out to the masses as nothing more than shiny dolls with no real substance. I've seen Vigilantes do more good than any of those Fakes ever did. People moved by true self-sacrifice, a trait that none of the so-called Heroes ever showed!"
Izuku blasted a flick in his direction, having Stain avoid being knocked back by a few inches. The turbulent backlash of the blast also moved Native away, which could easily be passed off as a necessity.
"So your Revival of Heroics considers self-sacrifice as the one and only heroic trait?"
"Exactly! Nothing else matters! Money and fame are only obstacles to true heroism!"
Stain jumped from the wall and fell on him, forcing the boy to parry his blade with [Blackwhip]. The black mass now resembled a long blade, corporeal enough to deflect and, at the right angle, crack the sleek metal.
Stain's fighting style was fast, adaptive and deadly. But he wasn't fast enough, and no amount of adaptivity could make up for the gap that separated them, both in terms of experience and power.
Izuku stared at him. "I've heard that you respect All Might though. Isn't it contradictory how he also gained those things from his work?"
"Inconsequential!" Stain screamed as a thrown knife was easily deflected. "He has proved his worth as a True Hero! He has sacrificed himself more than anybody else ever did!"
"Because he could," Izuku stated, deadpan, going on the offensive and striking the Villain's arm. "No Hero was ever as virtually untouchable as he was. Nobody was ever as powerful or as invulnerable. He's an example, but following him blindly would just lead hundreds to an early grave."
"Would that be so wrong?" The Hero Killer squinted his eyes with a growl. "Heroes are defined by their sacrifices. What good is a Hero that doesn't act when others need saving?"
"What good is a Hero that is already dead when others need saving?" he rebutted. "Self-sacrifice by itself isn't worth as much as you believe. You may save some with such an act, but what happens when you're needed again, and you're already under the ground?"
Stain seemed closer to losing his patience. "Another Hero will take up the mantle! True heroism will never die!"
He scoffed, shifting to leave a side seemingly unprotected. "That's strangely optimistic of you. Heroes can't be everywhere at once, and you know it. The number of Heroes is finite. They aren't immortal, and they aren't gods. Not even All Might is."
"It doesn't matter! A True Hero will become immortal trough his actions!" Stain lunged, making Izuku carry on with his strategy.
The Hero Killer's main weapon cut the air, meeting the boy's impenetrable defense. Then, the man did just as Izuku expected him to do: having noticed the gap, he swiftly struck to slash at his open flank. The young Hero moved like lightning, directing the blow precisely where he wanted it. Stain's hidden blade cut the side of a satchel, which started leaking a thick whitish mist.
Izuku smirked. - Leaving it to you, En. -
The Sixth hummed lowly in response, [Smokescreen] starting to fill the alley behind his back and making sure that Native wouldn't see anything he shouldn't.
The enemy looked nonplussed at the mysterious leakage, still trying to go in for the kill. Izuku put a stop to his moves, shooting forward to grab his blade between his fingers.
"Immortal?" he repeated, his tone a tad lower. "Like a martyr? Those are remembered, of course, like their messages." Izuku locked eyes with the killer. "Then tell me, Stain, why aren't you giving yourself up to All Might?"
Stain's red orbs looked at him intensely. "What?"
"Wouldn't your message be remembered that way? How only a True Hero managed to catch the one culling the unworthy?" Izuku moved closer, locking them both in place. "But you won't do that. You know why? Because you believe that your mission won't be accomplished if you aren't the one working on it. You want people to see 'True Heroes' and let them place their hopes on the deserving few, but at the same time you think that the fear you instill in the hearts of many is worth more than any hope your capture may bring."
The metal between them screeched but didn't move.
"Despite your words and name, Stain, you haven't been able to leave a permanent mark on society."
The Hero Killer kept staring, his mouth emitting a dangerous growl.
"Your ideology lacks mordant. Do you know why Heroes don't kill? Because that's the easiest route, and it takes away any chance of redemption. Reforming the broken is what really counts. Everybody is capable of change, of making the world a better place, if given the chance. And everybody deserves an opportunity."
He made a small movement with his head, pointing towards the Hero still laying on the ground behind the fog.
"Do you know how much Native has done with his role? He's raised climate change awareness and brought renewed attention to the environment. He's helped save at least two endangered species from dying off. He gathered founds and bought land from private owners to gift it back to the indigenous populations it once belonged to. He's helped save hundreds, or thousands, but all you could see was vainglory. What about Velocity, which you maimed the other week? The Idaten Agency feeds more than a hundred families and has one of the highest records of keeping the streets of Hosu safe since forever. But he was going to catch you, so it was okay to put him on death's door, right?"
Izuku's whispers conveyed every drop venom he intended to show. "Basher? Animal shelters. Golden Girl? Soup kitchens. Hopper? Orphanages. For every 'Fake' you killed, you ruined a hundred other lives. New Heroes may have stepped up, but it won't ever be the same for those whose lives you ruined."
"Lies," the man's voice was strained.
"I can prove my every word. And more."
Akaguro Chizome, a man with a mission, had become a monster. But he wasn't a madman.
It had taken Izuku a long time to understand how to get to him.
He hadn't learnt much about Stain during most of his lives. He met the Villain each and every time (how could he not), but there was just no real possibility of establishing a deep dialogue with him during the alley fight, especially when he was surrounded by his family. And it wasn't like Izuku would just be accepted for a friendly chat when the Hero Killer spent his time in Tartarus.
With no visible chance of winning the game with those pieces into play... Izuku had simply changed the game.
Past
A light step behind him. The door.
The knife was flying before a single breath had passed, but for once it didn't hit its mark. The blade clunked against the wall of the corridor.
Stain was jumping on the intruder before the blade had hit the ground. The enemy wasn't tall, nor imposing, but an intruder still.
His sword fell, cutting the air apart, but wasn't fast enough to touch anything else. A green flash signaled the enemy's movement, a jump to the side.
Stain was ready to continue his assault, his blade finally closing in on the intruder's throat, but the young voice coming from the guy made him stop.
A kid. He had been about to attack a kid. He would have stopped, yes, but he would have drawn blood nonetheless.
"Hero Killer Stain," the young voice said, keeping itself steady, "I am looking to follow your teachings. Can we talk?"
What a strange kid.
Present
The price of his mission had been an entire year, an entire world. He had never taken the entrance exam that time, disappearing as if he had never existed. But he hadn't paid that price directly. His mother, his classmates, his teachers, and All Might were the ones who had paid dearly for his choice.
He had yet to forgive himself for that. He doubted he ever would.
But it had worked. Izuku had found Stain, and he had been accepted as his one and only direct follower. The man had even gone so far as to call him his "successor." Managing not to gag when he had heard it for the first time had to be one of the hardest things he had done in the loop. Using the word for that left more than a bitter taste in his mouth.
He had learned his ideology from its very core, each word spoken like a gospel. He had been trained in his ways, with the knife and the blade. He had discovered the man's past and known who was hidden under the mask: Akaguro Chizome.
And he had found his every weak point. Ways to break his weapons and bend his will.
"Your path is wrong, Stain," he declared, sincere. "Society must change, but it can't be done this way. I will reform it, but as a Hero, not as a killer."
His grip on the blade was firm, and they were too close for the man to create more distance again. They both knew that the next move would decide the winner. And they both knew who would end up on the ground.
Izuku understood that his words were a lot to digest, and that normally Stain wouldn't accept them. But the boy had one more cartridge to shoot. One better whispered away from prying ears.
"You have already met the League of Villains, and you know that they can't be trusted. They would see the world burn and build sandcastles on its ashes," he remarked, using the man's words against him. "But it doesn't end there."
The first time it had been a gamble. Giving Stain that knowledge, knowing full well that he could misuse it, may not have been that good of an idea. But, deep down, Stain was and had always been a crusader against evil. Izuku was simply giving him a new mission, a new Demon Lord to target. Not now, but what were a few months spent in Tartarus in the eyes of someone like Chizome?
His whispers made the man's eyes grow wider, the bloody pupils shifting as his thoughts raced wildly.
Having said his piece, Izuku made himself audible by Native again. The smoke was going to fade soon. The voice would distract him, keeping in concentrated on his hears, and away from a chance of looking for smaller movements, like the scalpel coming out of his glove.
"All Might is close, and he'll be here soon. You'll be seen by everyone as you're captured by him, and your mission will be complete. Will you surrender?"
Stain didn't move his gaze, staring as seconds trickled by. Slowly, he opened his mouth.
"Do you swear on your life, young Hero?"
"I swear," he nodded lightly, letting the scalpel touch the Villain's tongue. "I will make this world a place you would be proud of, even if I must change it from the ground up to do it."
The cold, sleek object disappeared in the man's mouth. Their eyes met again as the Hero Killer reciprocated the nod, his words barely audible as he breathed them out.
"I see your resolve, and it's greater than mine. I surrender."
The man's blade fell to the ground as the Villain brought his wrists together, standing straight.
"Thank you," Izuku said, calling his [Blackwhip] to catch the killer's arms.
"Midoriya!" Two voices came from the end of the alley, Shoto and Tenya running in, soon to be followed by their current mentors.
"Hi guys, you got the message?" He smiled, fully, proud to have pinpointed the moment with such precision. "Could you help me out here? I think Native may have a pair of handcuffs, and we need some supervision for this."
Izuku had to contain a small laugh at his friends' expressions. It wasn't an everyday thing to see your Class Representative catching one of the most wanted in the nation, but Izuku liked to break patterns.
He would have to talk some more with them, Native, the other heroes, and All Might, as the latter needed to be convinced to take credit for the arrest. The whole thing was easier said than done, but with Gran Torino on his side, and a reminder that Izuku wasn't technically supposed to use his Quirk that freely, they would manage it.
But first, Izuku needed to be caught by a flying Nomu and be rescued by Stain. Ah, the things he had to do to prove a point.
The creature's blood tasted foul. Cadavers should be given rest, not be used to create abominations.
Not shaking the League's hand had been a wise choice.
Stain got up, taking out his knife from the monster's corpse. The boy laid at his feet, saved from a danger he could have easily taken care of himself.
- The kid was right. It happened just like he said it would. -
Was Midoriya a True Hero? Were his words truthful? Was he really going to save that many lives?
He didn't have any complete answers, only a feeling that told him that the answer was, undoubtedly: Yes. And Stain was one to follow his instinct.
The Villain grunted, fully accepting the decision he'd made in the alley. He would follow the teen's words and help him uproot the source of the rot. He'd be the sword in the dark to let a new hope shine cleanly above the surface. If the kid could really reverse society's decline, he would be worth it. A stain or two more weren't a problem.
As All Might descended on the street, placing himself between Stain and the rest of the Pros, the Hero Killer smiled and stepped forward. He would go out with a bang.
"All Might. Come, show to these Fakes how a True Hero should act."
The fight wouldn't be one to be remembered. The Hero Killer had a punctured lung, had already received enough damage to fell enemies tougher than he was, and would need to be careful about the object hidden in his throat.
Still, none would dare say that Stain didn't at least put up a fight.