Chapter Eleven

The Death of a Decent Man

Shota eyed his class as they walked in. Several were covered in bruises and scrapes, whereas Bakugo and Midoriya both looked exhausted after their meetings with Recovery Girl, the former looking even angrier than normal. Quite a few were still shivering from Todoroki's ice, a few others looking nauseated from Uraraka's quirk.

Most on the losing team looked defeated. Hell, Iida looked ready to shout in frustration. Shota couldn't help but sigh.

"Midoriya," he said, after they had all taken their seats, "that was your plan you used, yes?"

"I..." He began, trailing off. "It was my plan, sir. I know it wasn't the best. It was a pretty risky gamble."

Shota nodded. "Can you explain your train of thought to the class?"

Midoriya stood up, taking a breath in. "Well, I figured Kacchan would start off by going straight for me. His team, with no designated leader, would be in disorder. I figured someone would step up, but given they had no time to prepare, their grasp over the group would be weak at best. I also assumed that they would stick together, and move to meet up with Kacchan. I really had to gamble on a few things, like my ability to stall until my team could get back to me, and whether or not Jiro or Shoji would be on alert. If either of them had heard my team coming, then our plan very well could have fallen apart."

He closed his eyes for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "It was a desperate plan that relied on a lot of gambles. We just as easily could have lost."

"Midoriya," his teacher's voice cut him off, "give yourself some credit."

"Sir?"

"Your plan was desperate, yes. It relied on gambles too, but you can't forget that you were at a severe disadvantage. Any strategy you came up with that had any chance of working would have required risk. I believe you chose the one with the best ratio of risk/reward."

"It… was still a big gamble, sir."

"At the heart of any stratagem is a well-informed gamble. You did all that you could do, and it paid off. Your team also worked well together: Having a solid plan to follow allowed you to operate cohesively as a unit. All in all, good job."

Izuku sat down, heat rising to his face. He found the heat increased when he turned to find Uraraka smiling at him.

"As for Bakugo's team," Shota began, feeling his students tense up, "you didn't take this seriously, and failed to think for yourselves and adapt to the circumstances. I understand that you all are still new to UA, still learning. Well, consider this to be an important lesson; Never underestimate an opponent. No matter how overwhelming your advantage is, you have to take any threat you face seriously."

Shota turned to Katsuki directly now. "Bakugo, you should have used your team. You lost, with every conceivable advantage, because you squandered every one of those said advantages."

The blond seethed. "I lost because my team couldn't handle four weaklings."

"You lost because you failed to lead. You left your team behind."

"...I don't need anyone else."

"Then you willl never be a true hero."

Those eight words seemed to freeze the class for a moment. Katsuki's face bent in anger, before the blond stood up and marched out the door, slamming it behind him. Shota let out a long, tired sigh.

"Listen to me," he said, speaking to his class. "A hero that's unwilling to rely on or interact with others won't get anywhere. Even solitary ones like myself have to go to others for help from time to time. Midoriya's team, good work for realizing this truth already. The rest of you, I'm glad to see that this isn't something you need to learn. You all just need to learn to think for yourselves. You won't always have an obvious leader or authority figure there to guide your way."

He shook his head lightly. "Ultimately, don't be too disheartened by your loss today. You're here to learn, after all."

"Mr. Aizawa? Sir?"

"Yes, Iida?"

"Did you foresee Midoriya's victory?"

Shota saw this question in the eyes of many other students. He sighed, ready to be honest.

"No, not really. I did plan for him to lead the disadvantaged team, just as I planned for Bakugo to lead the advantaged one. I figured Midoriya would give you all a much harder time than you expected, but I didn't anticipate him winning outright."

"Then… the hat draw…"

"Yeah, it was staged. Call it a rational deception," Shota said, a grin crossing his features. He'd never let them know it, but the way they groaned made him suppress a chuckle.

"On a serious note, take the lessons from today. The Sports Festival is a situation where underestimating your opponents could cost you your shot at making it big, and in an encounter with a villain, it could cost you your life. Remember that. Dismissed."

He sighed, his body begging him for more sleep. Still, he pushed off his bed, far too big for one man, and glanced at the clock. Four in the afternoon. Work started in two hours.

He groaned as he sat up, his bedroom bathed in early afternoon light. He stretched his muscles as he threw on his clothes and walked into his living room.

"Good afternoon, Keisha," a soft voice called. Reclined in his chair sat his wife, looking at him from over her novel. "I'm assuming you work the graveyard shift again tonight?"

"I do. I'm sorry, Rin," he said, as he said every day.

"It's okay, love," she said, as she said every day. "I'll try and stay up for you." She always tried. Never did she manage. He didn't blame her.

"Don't worry about it. You get your rest," he replied, flashing that smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"If you're certain, love," she answered, with her own smile that didn't reach hers either.

He stood there for a moment. He hated this, the tension in the air of what should be a happy home. He wanted nothing more than to reach out to her, to take her hand and say he was sorry. Sorry for not being what she needed, what she deserved.

"I'm… I'm sorry, Rin," he said, his voice cracking. "I know I… I haven't been here when you needed me. I'm sorry. You deserve… better."

She looked at him for a moment, her brow furrowed, her artificial smile never leaving. She studied him, her brown eyes meeting his blue.

"Better?" She asked. "I don't know what you're talking about. You'll always be my hero."

"After losing… After Kei passed, I… ran away, more or less," he said, his words spoken uncertainly. "You… I should have been here with you."

"You save lives every night, Keisha. I can wait." It was what she always said. He knew she meant it. She'd wait forever.

To hell with that. She wouldn't have to wait any longer.

"Apparently, the brat's impressed his class," Tomura's voice cut through the stagnant, smoke filled air.

"Oh?" Ikarusu said, flicking his cigarette. "Do tell."

Tomura handed him the phone he held. "That's our inside contact. He's in the same class as the Midoriya kid."

Ikarusu read the text, smirking at certain points. "Seems Aizawa is ever the hardass. Midoriya seems to be brighter than we anticipated, too. We need to take him out, as soon as we can."

Tomura's brow furrowed. "You knew Aizawa? That's Erasurehead, right?" Ikarusu shook his head.

"Not personally, but over the years I've known a lot of people taken down by him specifically. He isn't someone to take lightly."

"Aizawa, huh…" Tomura trailed off, remembering how cool the underground hero had seemed. Then Nomu sent him through a bus.

"So, about your spy," Ikarusu began, "did you have him planted from the beginning?"

"No, we chose one of the first years that had already made it in, and put pressure on him to… ah… see our perspective."

"And just how did you do that?"

Tomura smirked cruelly. "If he doesn't do as we say, he'll lose something very dear to him."

Izuku stumbled into the hall, grateful to have finally gotten out of the classroom. His fellow students had been very… excitable in pressing him for details on his thought process. It was flattering, but it did make him feel a bit awkward, being showered with praise. He certainly wasn't used to it.

Luckily, they'd allowed him to excuse himself to the hall, after he cited the mountain of makeup work awaiting him when he returned to his room. He knew the other students would be leaving shortly as well.

As soon as he walked out of the entrance to the main campus, his gait was interrupted by a strong arm pulling him by the shirt, hard. He looked up, catching the flash of blond hair, and seeing that they were headed to a secluded area, away from the main path to the dorms, over a small hill that hid them from view.

The moment they were out of sight, Katsuki released the smaller boy, before turning to face him.

For a few long seconds, neither said a word. Izuku wasn't even sure what to say, but it seemed as though Katsuki was trying to gather his thoughts.

"You're going to die."

The blond wasn't known for being gentle with his words.

"Kacchan, it's oka-"

"You're going to fucking die." The blond also wasn't known for allowing others to speak over him. "You aren't strong enough for this. You always have been, and always will be, a weak little Deku. Why do you have to try to be more than that?"

Despite the venom in his tone, his words were spoken softly. Not so softly, however, that someone with quirk-enhanced hearing could fail to pick it up.

"I… I made it out of there, that day." Izuku did his very best to keep his words steady. "My mother died for me. If I… die, helping someone else… then I'm okay with that."

It had been a long time since Izuku had seen Katsuki taken aback by words. He blinked a few times, rapidly, clenching his fists.

"Deku, this is your fucking life! You can do something else!" He wasn't trying to be quiet anymore. "Your mom sacrificed herself for you, are you really going to throw it away?! You don't belong here, Deku. This road only ends in your death."

Katsuki was prepared for tears. Prepared for sobs. Maybe even prepared for anger, rage.

He wasn't prepared to be met with a soft, warm smile.

"Who would mourn, Katsuki?"

The blond's words died before they could ever be given form.

"Who would mourn some useless idiot, trying to rise above his station?" The greennette continued. "If I die, only saving one person from harm, then I die fulfilled."

"Who would… mourn you?"

"It's a valid question. You've said yourself, many of our classmates view me with a mixture of curiosity, gratitude, and pity. I doubt the death of a near-stranger would cause them much grief."

"Y-You… you can't seriously…"

The smaller boys smile never left. It never faltered, never wavered. "Truth be told, I only care to live to honor what my mother did, and to help whoever I can. If that kills me, then I accept it. You should too, Katsuki."

Sparing no more words, Izuku turned his back on the stunned blond, walking back toward the dorms.

Slowly, Katsuki raised a hand to his chest.

"'Katsuki'...?" Never once had the boy called him anything other than 'Kacchan', ever since the name had come to be.

The blond sat there, stupefied, as an unknown witness began to move.

They worked their way through the crowds of students headed home, trying to get to the one person that they felt could do something about the current situation.

They spotted her, making her own way to the dorms, and they managed to finally tap her shoulder.

"Oh, Shoji, can I help you?" Ochako chirped, taken offguard by the quiet boy's sudden appearance.

"No, but there is someone who may need your help."

When Keisha came into the agency at six o'clock, he had one goal in mind.

He marched up the stairs of the building to the top floor, bursting into the traditional Japanese style office, unannounced.

"I need a vacation."

Standing before him, one eyebrow raised, stood the number five hero; Shinya Kamihara, better known as Edgeshot. His expression was hard to read on account of his mask, but he seemed taken aback.

"Very well. You can take the next week off, after tonight."

Keisha stared at his mentor for a few moments. "R-Really? That easily?"

Shinya gave him an amused look. "Were you expecting me to fight you on it?"

"Well, no, but… I know I've put in a lot of hours the past months and-"

"Keisha," a hand on the shoulder cut the sidekick off. "You've done a lot for this agency. I know losing your daughter… I can't fathom how you felt. I had hoped that I was offering you some escape, but I think I may have been taking you away from your wife." Shinya smiled, his crinkling eyes showing it where his mouth couldn't. "Go. Spend time with her. I'll give you some more time off after, should it please you."

"I… thank you, sir. It means a lot," Keisha spoke truthfully. "And to be clear, I don't… regret putting so many hours here. Losing Kei isn't something I'll ever recover from, but I used my grief to help others. I just… don't want my wife to be alone anymore."

"I understand," Shinya said. "After tonight, take her on a trip. They have some great hero exhibits in the States, if you want a recommendation."

Keisha blinked once. Twice. "You… don't really know what a couple does on a trip, do you, sir?" He turned his back after asking, bowing as he left, leaving the Number Five hero alone in his office.

"Is that… not… it…?"

Ochako paced in front of the door several times, trying to find the right words. She had no idea how to broach this topic, truth be told. The knowledge that a person she considered to be her friend didn't truly care about living or dying, what was she to say to that? What could she say? She truly cared for him, but it isn't like they've known each other for very long or anything.

Eventually, she just took in a deep breath, and knocked softly on the door. He heard the soft call for 'just a moment!', the shuffle of papers, and quick, nervous footsteps. Then, the door swung open.

"O-Oh, Uraraka! Everything okay?"

She narrowed her eyes. He looked fine, but there was something off. "Yeah, things are fine. Can I come in?"

In a different context, she may have been embarrassed to ask. In a different context, she may have felt some level of humor in how flustered the boy so clearly was.

Not now.

"O-Oh, s-s-s-s-sure!" The boy said, shuffling out from the doorway, allowing Ochako entry to his room.

She nodded, muttering a thanks as she walked through the threshold.

His room was surprisingly neat, though she shouldn't have been surprised. He hadn't been here long enough to trash it, and he didn't seem to be the type to be messy anyways. The room was pretty barren, even moreso than her own, the only true possessions being those provided by the school, including a mound of paperwork on his desk.

She closed the door behind her, acutely aware of Izuku's growing bashfulness. She took a deep breath, clearing her mind and gathering her thoughts.

"Are you okay, Deku?"

Her question, though nonchalant in words, held a great deal of weight. She forced eye-contact with him, coffee brown peering into forest green.

"Y-Yeah! Of course!"

It was he who broke contact, eyes forest green darting to the side.

"...Shoji overheard your conversation with Bakugo. I also heard some of what he said during the match, and it was… awful, to say the least. I just… I'm sorry, I…" What was she to say? Ask him to trust the word of someone he'd known for a few weeks?

"I-I…" His voice saved her. "I'm sorry, Uraraka, what I said to Kacchan was… I don't know where it came from. I'm sorry. I really am."

"Deku, I'm not mad at you. I'm just… worried, is all." She rested a hand on his shoulder, drawing green eyes to brown once more; reconnected. "Talk to me. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

"I-I believe you. I dunno. It's just, it's hard to adjust. Going from having nothing to having an actual shot at happiness, it's- it's surreal." Their eyes were locked, leveled with each other. Ochako could feel his pain, his loneliness. Even now, while he smiled to offset the tension he felt.

"You've been through things that I could never understand. Things that I don't think any of us could understand. But I want to do whatever I can for you, y'know?"

"I-I know."

"But… did you mean what you said? That you don't care if you die, provided you help someone doing it?" Green eyes glanced away again, his expression changed. He looked far too haggard for a child, only fifteen.

"I… to a certain extent, yeah. I don't… wanna die, but being given a second chance of life like this, it's… I have a chance to be a true hero, just like I promised my mother. And a hero is someone who lives only for the service of others, so were I to die protecting someone… I'd be doing what any hero should."

Ochako looked away, her hands clasped together, twiddling nervously. "I… I know this isn't my place but… does it have anything to do with what happened to your mom?"

"She died protecting me. She died a hero." What could Ochako do in this situation? She had to bite down on her frustrated emotions.

"D-Deku, I get that. You aren't wrong when you say that a hero should live for the service of others, but I think it's still important to know that you have things to live for," she forced eye-contact again. She would force him to understand her point. "I think a hero isn't someone that dies in service of others, it's someone that fights for the good of others, while living to go on and help even more people. If you go in with this mentality of not caring whether you live or die, will you truly even fight to go on? Or will you subconsciously take the easy way out?"

"I…"

"All I'll ask is that you try your best. That you help others, yeah, but… come back to us, at the end of the day. Come back in one piece." She took a breath. "You're wanted here, Deku. Always. There are a lot of people who would mourn you."

"I-I… I'll do my best. For you."

She smiled, a soft, genuine smile. "Thank you, Deku. You're home; here, with us."

Keisha sighed, the hour approaching eleven at night. This shift seemed to drag on, worse than usual. His uniform, black armor with orange highlights, felt closer to a prison than something meant to protect him.

"Tairea?" Edgeshot called him over the comms, addressing him by his hero name. "Sorry to bother, but are you close to the Shinjuku district?"

"Yeah, I'm around five minutes away. What do you need?"

"Junkyosha's mic went dark a few minutes ago. He hasn't responded to any form of communication. Can you check on him? I'll ping you his last known location."

"Yeah, sure. Do you think this has anything to do wi-"

"No, we don't. It's suspected that he's in Hosu at the moment, not Shinjuku."

"Understood. I'll check in when I can."

"Thank you. Be alert."

"Always."

His palms began to shine, as blasts of light shot out, lifting him off the ground. He began to fly over the buildings, moving to Shinjuku, and the alleyway where Junkyosha's location was last pinged.

He landed right outside the alleyway, immediately taking note of how secluded this area was, even in an area as crowded as Shinjuku.

"Ah, you weren't anything special, were you? The ability to take and transfer pain of others makes you a good rescue hero, and maybe useful in a group, but you really struggle one on one, don't you?"

Keisha tensed. That was Junkyosha's quirk. His fist tightened, he took a deep breath.

"Edgeshot," he said, keeping his voice low. "I'm at the location, they got Junkyosha. Moving forward to engage."

Before his mentor could speak, he turned his comms off, stepping into the alleyway.

"May I presume you to be the Hero Killer?" His voice was loud, angry. If the murderer was startled, he didn't show it. He looked at Keisha with a certain amount of disinterest.

"What's this? Another fool, here to challenge me?" The murderers voice was oddly nonchalant, calm. "I can't claim to be this 'Hero Killer', though I dabble from time to time." His smirk was infuriating.

"You… you killed a decent man, and you smirk so casually?" Keisha's fist tightened, light spilling out. "What's your name, murderer?"

"Call me Ikarusu."

"How fitting. You name yourself after the boy who approached the sun, before falling to his doom, and now, you face the hero named after the sun; Tairea."

"Pleased to meet you. I'm the man that will obliterate the sun."

"And I'm the man that will send you careening to the Earth."

No more words were spoken. None needed to be.

The Sun's Hero raise his arm, the light in his palm exploding forward, illuminating the dark alleyway.

'Sunlight?' Ikarusu wondered to himself. 'He's appropriately named."

Tairea watched as his opponent soared through the air, with infuriating grace. He cleared much more air than should've been possible. Did Ikarusu have a quirk that allowed him to glide? Or was it physical enhancement, like a weaker version of what All Might seemed to be.

Ikarusu came down, hard, creating a small crater in the concrete beneath his feet, his long, black coat seeming to blend with the darkness as he surged forward. Tairea blasted another ray of sunlight at the murderer, forcing him into the air once more. His blasts were too large to avoid horizontally, in the confines of the alleyway, leaving verticality as the only option for Ikarusu, just to find another ray of sunlight being shot at him while he was airborne.

'Forcing me to the air, where I can't dodge? Smart tactic, but he certainly seems to be putting a lot of effort into keeping me away. He must know that he's weak up close.' Ikarusu was going to have to go all out to avoid getting hit by this.

So it was then that Keisha found himself face to face with his opponent, who very well should have been hit by the blast. Then the foot struck him, the kick packing enough of a punch to send the hero flying through the air, crashing into a wall.

Before he could blink, the murderer was standing by him, leaning against the wall that Keisha had been sent through. "Not all that impressive, truth be told. Your quirk may have raw power, but you lack imagination. You use it to keep people at a range, but what do ya do when you can't do that?"

"Allow me…" Keisha began, rising unsteadily to his feet. "...to show you."

"Sun Within."

An explosion of force sent Ikarusu flying back, landing on his heels. Before he could so much as blink, a punch to the face sent him into the ground, hard. The sheer strength behind the blow obliterated the earth beneath them, concrete rising up, as Ikarusu laid there, his face covered in cuts. Keisha lifted him by the collar, his entire body glowing with sunlight.

A knee to the gut that broke rips. A blow to the chest that broke the collarbone. Keisha then turned, and threw Ikarusu into the air, sending him at least 50 meters into the sky, before leaping himself, going for the final blow.

"Not… too bad… but… it isn't enough."

By the time Keisha heard those words, it was too late. His fist was caught, as Ikarusu maneuvered with an ease that shouldn't have been possible, and plunged his arm through the hero's chest. Keisha vomited blood. His glow of sunlight was extinguished.

"Sorry it had to be like this," the murdered said, while they plummeted down. "But you were almost a small challenge."

They hit the ground, Keisha coughing up more blood.

He was dying.

He was leaving his wife.

She lost her daughter, and now her husband.

"R-Rin…"

What a failure he was, in life.

What a failure he is, in death.

Yeah I'm sorry.

Last two months have been sorta hectic. I've started working again, and am doing school on top of that. The end result is that when I have the motivation to write, I lack the time; when I have the time, I lack the motivation.

Not all that happy with how this chapter turned out, but I promise some better ones are coming. Also, keep an eye on my second MHA story, Stormheart. I plan to post a chapter for that one soon.

Thanks for the read, and God bless.

#BLM