Title: deconstruction

Characters/Pairings: Nejire, Tamaki, Mirio

A/N: For the Blackguard zine. In light of the recent events in the anime, I wanted to do a twist on the Big Three as villains (or more specifically, Nejire…)

Summary: The Big Three were more than just partners. They were friends, they were family, and family did anything to help one another. If Nejire had to make a deal with the devil to keep her family together, she would.

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"I could attack you," Nejire threatened, taking a menacing step forward. A familiar drain ran through her arm as the tip of a golden spiral emerged from her hand. "I should attack you."

"But you won't." In the shadows of the hospital parking lot, Kurogiri stood calmly. His arms lay relaxed at his side, his black mist of a head watching her more with curiosity than fear. In his black vest, he looked more like an inconvenienced businessman than a villain. "Otherwise, my friends will attack the hospital."

It could be a bluff. While there was no way this was a chance meeting, she doubted they'd risk attacking a facility filled with heroes, injured or not. Yet Mirio was inside and without his quirk, he couldn't protect himself. If what Izuku had said about his meeting with Shigaraki was true, then all she had to do was listen and he'd leave. Nejire relaxed her arm, turning off her quirk, and glared at the villain. "What do you want?"

"To talk. That's it." Kurogiri adjusted the collar of his vest and while she couldn't discern a mouth, she knew he was smiling. "I heard about your friend. How he…lost his powers."

Thanks to you, she almost growled, but for once it had nothing to do with him and his association. Too bad. She had wanted to punch something for days now and he was an easy target. "You care why?"

"You know our boss. You know the abilities he has," Kurogiri stated softly. Each word was slow, deliberate. "He could change that."

Speechless, Nejire stared at him. This was not the offer she had been expecting, the threat she had braced herself for. Her shoulders shook as she hunched over and laughed. "Really? This is what you wanted?"

Waiting for her to calm down, Kurogiri said nothing, merely crossing his arms patiently. When she wiped the tears from her eyes, standing straight once more, he added, "We can fix him."

"Hey, hey, you think Mirio would accept that?" Nejire snorted at the preposterous idea. He would never go for it. Even if meant he could become a hero again, if the villains were offering, there had to be a terrible catch. "We're not that stupid."

"No, I don't think you are," Kurogiri agreed. His black mist hands tucked into his pockets and he cocked his head. "But…you know how they are handling it. You know how your friend is. How even your other friend is."

Nejire took a step back, surprised. Mirio was one thing; Tamaki shouldn't even be on their radar. Her voice cracked. "How-How do you know that?"

"We have more followers than you know." A black warp opened up behind Kurogiri, the mist from his body flowing around him as he stepped back into it. "We could change all that. Consider it."

And then he was gone and Nejire wished she had yelled at him. Something, anything, just to let him know that he hadn't gotten to her.

To let herself know that he hadn't gotten to her.

-x-

165.

Nejire stared at the gold numbers, at the white door with its tiny window. Her hand rested on the doorknob, her other poised to knock. Yet, that wasn't right. Simply knocking wasn't her usual style. Taking a deep breath, she hurled the door open, bouncing in with a sunny smile. "Mirio?"

Her friend snapped his head toward her, body tense and ready for a fight. Recognizing her, he blinked owlishly before turning to the clock on the other side of the room. "Nejire? Were classes cancelled?"

"Not anymore," she chirped, flouncing into the chair next to his bed. There was an empty one on the other side of the room. The one Tamaki normally took. At one point, he had practically lived in the room, watching Mirio as he drifted in and out of consciousness.

Now Nejire slid her eyes past the vacant spot, past the ghost of him that watched them with a quiet smile. It had been weeks since he'd set foot in the room and she had never known that absence could hurt like a punch in the gut.

"Not anymore?" Mirio repeated slowly, processing her sentence before sighing. "Nejire, you can't cut class."

"Hey, you're more important than class," Nejire retorted, reaching out to grab his hand. She batted her eyes innocently. "It's not cutting class. It's caring for a friend."

Mirio squeezed her hand gently, his eyes softening. "Thank you." Then he let go and frowned. "And you've used this excuse before—you can't skip tests."

"Yessir," Nejire rolled her eyes, unable to wipe the smile from her face. The colour was back on Mirio's face, after weeks of him looking like a zombie. Only the slightly-worn crinkle of his eyes, the red puffiness of his cheeks, let out that he hadn't recovered. It was a start.

"You're lucky none of the teachers are here." Mirio struggled to sit up, the wires on his arm a restraint. Each movement jostled him, and she reached out to steady him as he eased into an upright position. "Thanks."

He was a big guy but swathed in bedsheets and wires, he looked small. Fragile. They were words she hadn't associated with him in ages. Now, she couldn't separate them from him. Swallowing down her distress, she chuckled. "You look like a mummy."

"I looked like a mummy," Mirio corrected, his brow knitting. He gestured at his body, miraculously clear of bandages. "It's been weeks since I healed."

"Then you can leave soon?" she asked, hope rising.

"No," he answered flatly, staring down at his bedsheets. "The doctors want to run a few more tests. Since I'm…" His voice cracked, unable to say the last word, unable to admit the reality of his life now.

Quirkless. Her mind supplied the last word, the thought running through her head constantly. Crumpling her skirt under her hands, she opened her mouth, searching for the right thing to say. To do. Anything to ease his pain. Nejire had always been good at lifting the mood, but the answer thwarted her this time.

Noticing her concern, Mirio flashed a bright smile. "Don't worry, it'll all work out. The doctors' will figure out something."

"They will." Nejire clenched her skirt tighter until her nails dug into her thighs. Her lips were raw from how many times she'd bitten them, worrying them as she tried to find the silver lining to all of this.

"And if they don't…Sir…" To his credit, his voice didn't break. Not like the glasses that had broken when he'd first found about his mentor's death, not like the way his face had when he had realized it was all for vain, that he had lost his powers and his teacher and none of his sacrifices had saved the child trapped in the darkness. His expression slipped slightly. After a deep breath, he forced his smile back up. "Sir wouldn't want me to mope like this. There's something else I can do."

It was meant to be reassuring. It was meant to be normal. Despite his best efforts, Mirio's expression was none of those things. Nejire had never hated anything as much as she hated that smile. There was nothing real about it, nothing Mirio-like at all.

It was a façade and she hated how she couldn't make it go away.

-x-

Ignoring the whispers and stares, Nejire walked through the boy's side of the dorms, coming to a stop only once she was in front of Tamaki's room. A white door. A nameplate. It reminded her of Mirio's hospital door and was just as intimidating to stand in front of. This time, she did knock. After a hard rap, she heard a muffled, "Yes?"

Without answering, she entered the room. Cardboard boxes covered the floor haphazardly, and she stared. The room looked like it had been hit by a burglar, the way clothes and personal items were strewn around. Closing the door behind her with a soft click, she swallowed. "Tamaki?"

"Nejire?" Surprised, Tamaki's head poked out of the closet. His eyes widened at the sight of her before he ducked back in. "You're here."

She wasn't sure what to make of that response. Happy? Annoyed? His inflection was flat and there was still time for her to leave, to run away from it all. Instead, Nejire took a step forward, carefully weaving her way through the mess. Keeping her voice cheerful, she asked, "Hey, hey, what's going on?"

"I'm going home." Tamaki's voice was muffled, the closet door blocking sound as well as sight.

So the rumor was true. "For a break?" she asked anyway, hoping against hope he'd say yes.

"No." Tamaki paused and she moved behind him, able to see his hands gripping the shirt he was supposed to be folding. How he hunched as he spoke. "I'm quitting."

"Why?" Her voice broke despite herself and, grabbing his shoulder, she turned him around. His eyes met her for a second before immediately turning to the ground and she gritted her teeth. Directness was never the best way to approach Tamaki, but Nejire didn't know any other way to ask.

"I…I'm not a good hero." Tamaki kept his gaze glued to the ground, as though the secret to life was found in the swirls of the wooden floor. He pulled back, stepping out of her grasp. "I'm not meant for this."

"None of us were." Everyone thought they'd fail, that first year. Thought that it was a miracle they'd made it, thought it was pity that helped them get so far. And now they were respected, admired, leading the pack. "Don't sell yourself short."

"I'm not." Tamaki looked at her now and she could make out the redness of his eyes, the dried tears on his face. "If someone else was there…if anyone else was there…"

Maybe Sir would have lived. Maybe the girl would have survived. Maybe Mirio would be whole.

Nejire tried not to recoil from the brunt of his grief, from the raw emotion in his voice. She should never have left him alone for so long. When he had stopped visiting Mirio, she thought he needed the space. They all had. She had been wrong. "You saved Kirishima. You helped."

"A better hero would have done more." He looked at her desperately, lost and unsure. "I…I'm taking up space where someone else would do better. I'm not a hero. I never was."

"That's not true." Nejire reached out, pulling him close and hugging him tightly. He didn't fight it like he usually did, too shy and awkward to hug back. No, instead he felt like a limp doll and it was only her strength that supported the two of them now. "You are a hero, you've always been one."

"I'm not," he refuted, but he didn't pull away.

Nejire thought of all the words she wanted to hear, all the things she wanted someone to say to her. Things she had needed to hear when she had dug through the rubble, her voice hoarse as she had screamed Tamaki's and Mirio's names. "It's not true. You're needed. Here. Things might have been worse if you weren't there."

If only she had gone with them. If only she had been stronger. If only. If only.

-x-

Crickets chirped, their noisy cacophony the only sound in the graveyard. Nejire walked along the rows between family plots, her footsteps muted. On this overcast day, a few people stood scattered here and there. A man's hands in prayer as he closed his eyes and his lips mumbled his thanks. On her right, a woman cleaned an altar, her child carrying incense sticks.

Sir Nighteye's grave was nowhere like this—a hero till the end, he had been buried in the Cemetery of Heroes, a statue of his likeness placed directly above his grave. Hard to miss, there was no mistaking his final resting spot from any other.

Unlike the nondescript marker Nejire stopped in front of now. It looked identical to the graves around it, as unnoticeable as a tree in a forest. Eri's grave didn't match the fighting, the chaos that lead to its creation. Nejire's fingers brushed Eri's name, the only sign indicating who was buried here.

"Eri." No family name, no ties, no friends. The police weren't able to confirm just where she came from, if she had been kidnapped or if her parents were one of the yakuza. Nejire knelt, lighting an incense stick. The smoke drifted lazily upwards.

She hadn't met the girl, only her dirty, bruised body as Izuku had carried her out. Mirio had saved her. Izuku had protected her. It was what a hero would do, what any hero would do.

"I wish he hadn't," she confessed, standing up. Nejire gritted her teeth angrily—a dead child, and all she could think was Mirio's fake smile, Tamaki's dark eyes. The splinters of her family, too jagged to put back together. A hero wouldn't wish this but it was all she could think about. "I wish he had never met you."

-x-

165.

Nejire stared at the gold numbers, at the white door with its tiny window. Her hand rested on the doorknob, her other poised to knock. Every single time she visited, she faced this dilemma, this fear in the pit of her stomach. Mirio was inside. At the same time, Mirio wasn't.

She peeked through the tiny door. Her eyes widened as she spotted Tamaki on the other side, his hands folded on his lap as he sat in his usual seat.

Tamaki had finally visited. Maybe that meant he wouldn't quit, that they'd be back to normal after this. Mirio would leave the hospital and they could figure out how to make it together and her hand grasped the doorknob, ready to toss it open. They were right, it only took time and things were—

Things were not normal. Despite the normalcy of the scene, something was off-kilter. Neither of them were speaking, Tamaki's gaze glued to his lap while Mirio was staring determinedly out a window. There had been a time Nejire had been jealous of their private conversations, their quiet banter that only ever happened when she was just out of sight, out of earshot. A sign that she wasn't as close to either of them as they were to each other.

Now, she would give anything for it to happen again. Her hand dropped to her side and she took a step back. There was no easy fix to this, to either of them. There might not be a fix at all.

-x-

"So?" Kurogiri stepped into the hospital parking lot and Nejire couldn't deny that she had been expecting, no, hoping he'd be there. "Have you given our proposition any thought?"

"I'll take it," she gritted out, her body not her own anymore. Every movement felt foreign, alien, her hand reaching across the void to shake Kurogiri's. She shouldn't do this. A small part of her knew that. A small part of her demanded that. This wasn't what a hero did. This would come back to bite them all, hurt them all.

But Mirio…Tamaki…she could just see their faces, as it was now. How broken her family had become. If she did nothing, they'd all just drift apart. Tamaki would live with a hunched back, burdened with the belief it was his fault. Mirio would try to be a different kind of hero, pretending it didn't kill him to think about Sir or Eri.

Nejire had never been as strong Mirio—he had always been the center of their group, the glue that kept them together. She couldn't do that, she couldn't even keep Tamaki's depression at bay. If Mirio got his powers back, if Mirio could just return…it would fix everything. They didn't need her for that, they never had. They could just go back to what they were in middle school, the big two.

It was a perfect plan, really. Mirio would be a hero again. Tamaki would remain a hero. And the two of them could team up and defeat her in whatever nefarious plan the league had planned. Maybe she'd be in jail, or maybe she'd be dead, but Mirio and Tamaki would have each other and that would be more than enough to fill in the void she'd leave behind.

"I thought you would." Kurogiri created a portal behind him and out came a nondescript man with a briefcase. "Give the serum to the doctor."

The other man nodded and headed toward the hospital. As she watched him leave, Kurogiri explained. "Your friend will be cured by evening."

"And no side effects?" she asked, remembering the tale of the monkey's paw. Wishes never came true, not in the way anyone wanted.

"None whatsoever." Kurogiri shook his hand. The portal remained open behind him. "It'll be like it never happened."

"…why?" she finally asked, turning back to him. Nejire narrowed her eyes, trying to discern his attentions. "He'll be a thorn in your side."

"We don't want you to renege on your part. And we have other ways of dealing with him." Kurogiri took a step to the side, gesturing to the shadowy portal. "After you."

A lie. That was what she wanted to believe, but the certainty in his voice told her otherwise. They had other ways of dealing with Mirio. After defeating All Might, it would be child's play. Looking back at the hospital one last time, she took a deep breath. "Fine."

This wasn't what a hero did, but the big three were more than just partners. They were friends, they were family, and family did anything to help one another.

Nejire stepped through the warp gate and didn't look back.