Was I okay with this?
Hell nah.
Every fiber of my being screamed to charge in, to take control of the chaos unfolding before me.
Did I follow Aizawa’s orders anyway?
Yeah, I did, even though it pissed me off to no end, I swallowed it down and played along.
He was right.
My skills had limits, and running headfirst into a fight I wasn’t ready for was a one-way ticket to getting myself killed.
But knowing that didn’t make it any easier to stand back and watch everything teeter on the edge of disaster.
Sitting on my ass wasn’t going to fix this mess, and deep down, that gnawed at me like a rabid dog.
Still, no matter how much it burned me up inside, I had to roll with it for now.
Charging in blind would just screw me and everyone else over faster.
I clenched my fists, forcing myself to stay put, my mind racing for a way to turn this around without breaking rank.
But before I could even settle on a plan, the situation flipped upside down again.
Another black warp gate tore open in the air, swirling and ominous, and out stepped Kurogiri, his misty form coalescing into that familiar, eerie shape.
He started rattling off some grand speech about killing All Might right here and now, his voice dripping with smug certainty.
In the blink of an eye, the world tilted, space warped around us, and just like that, we were all scattered, teleported to different corners of the U.S.J.
…
When the dizziness cleared and my senses snapped back, I found myself in the fire simulation zone.
The air was thick with heat and smoke, the fake cityscape around me flickering with artificial flames that cast jagged shadows across the ground.
Two armed thugs stood waiting, knives glinting in their hands, their silhouettes sharp against the hazy backdrop.
The stifling atmosphere should’ve rattled me, but instead, it steadied my nerves.
There was no one else around yet, just me and these assholes.
And it’s a really big problem that my current condition is completely incapable of beating these guys to a pulp.
“Looks like I hit the jackpot,” one of them sneered, his lips curling into a nasty grin that showed off crooked teeth.
“Just one little student.
Easy pickings.”
I didn’t bother with a reply.
Words were a waste on scum like this.
Instead, I sucked in a deep breath, flipped them both the middle finger with a cocky smirk, and let my stance loosen up.
“Come try beating me, you brain-dead fucks…”
The provocation ended, and my smile instantly contorted.
They weren’t as slow as their ragged appearance suggested.
The first man let out a savage roar and lunged forward with incredible speed.
His blade sliced through the air, grazing my cheek and leaving a trail of hot blood.
I instinctively recoiled, but the second had already circled around behind me, swinging his knife straight at my side.
I ducked, scrambling across the dusty ground.
The pain from my weakened body immediately intensified.
These two might not be hardened criminals, but they genuinely intended to kill me and worked together seamlessly.
For several minutes, I was forced into a completely passive defensive position.
Their specialized blades constantly slashed through, tearing my uniform and leaving shallow, bleeding wounds on my arms and shoulders.
The stifling heat around me was draining away my remaining strength.
My heart pounded in my chest as if it were about to burst.
They were cornering me, and negotiating with these guys would only be a waste of time.
“Only dodging that much, kid?!” The first one sneered, lunging at me with a straight thrust, aiming for my life.
This was my only chance.
He had overexerted himself, leaving his upper body exposed.
My eyes narrowed; the world around me seemed to slow down.
I tilted my body just enough for the blade to slide past my armpit, channeling my last ounce of energy to activate my Quirk.
A layer of cold, viscous Tungsten metal instantly seeped from my pores, enveloping my right fist in a heavy block of steel.
I spun on my heel, delivering an uppercut to my ribs.
CRACK!
My tungsten-coated fist slammed into his jawbone.
The sharp sound of bones shattering echoed.
He lost his balance and fell backward.
But all the fatigue and frustration accumulated in the battle couldn’t be ended with a knockout blow.
I lunged forward, leaping onto him, pinning him to the gray ground.
My armored arm swung up, then brought down.
THUMP.
His nose shattered.
I swung up again.
THUMP
And down again.
THUMP
And again.
THUMP
THUMP
THUMP
I punched relentlessly, swinging my fists like a mindless hydraulic hammer.
The sheer weight and hardness of the steel-tungsten alloy, combined with the acceleration, tore through every layer of skull defense.
The sound of bones shattering and flesh smothering was horrifying.
Fresh blood, marrow, and chunks of flesh splattered onto my face and clothes, staining the ash on the ground crimson.
The criminal didn’t even have time to groan or beg before he lay completely motionless.
When I stopped and gasped for breath, what lay on the ground could no longer be called a “face” or a “head.” It had been crushed and disfigured beyond recognition.
“A…
Ah…
Ahhh!!!”
A bloodcurdling scream, shrill and distorted with terror, ripped from his throat.
The second criminal stood a few steps away, his body stiff.
A clanging sound echoed as the dagger slipped from his trembling hands.
His eyes, wide and white, stared at the pool of blood and the mangled head of his accomplice, then at my blood-soaked appearance.
Without bothering to pick up his weapon, he turned his back and ran frantically into the thick smoke, wailing and crying out in utter panic.
He even stumbled a few times but still managed to get back up, trying to escape me.
I ignored him, slowly straightening up.
The metal on my hands gradually melted away, leaving my hands covered in sticky blood and brain matter.
Standing in the sea of fire, I looked down at my hands, then at the corpse at my feet.
This was the first time I had killed someone.
Directly, mercilessly, and utterly brutally.
Normally, I should have felt nauseated.
I should have screamed, panicked, shuddered with terror, or at least felt a wave of disgust rising in my stomach and vomited.
But…
nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
My mind was eerily silent, just a cold, empty space.
“Tch…” I clicked my tongue softly, frowning as I shook the blood from my hands onto the ground.
“Fuck, I wonder how I’m going to go to confession this coming weekend…”
There wasn’t a trace of fear or regret in my thoughts at this moment.
Just a cold, purely physical assessment of my strength and efficiency.
I sighed, lifting the limp, heavy corpse by the armpits.
Surrounded by a fire, disguising the scene wasn’t difficult.
I dragged the corpse to a model of a house engulfed in flames, the fire reaching the ceiling with scorching heat.
Using my remaining strength, I threw the bloody mess deep into the inferno.
The ferocious flames immediately consumed it.
The sizzling sounds and the characteristic acrid smell of burning flesh were quickly masked by the smoke of U.S.J.
Wiping away the blood stains on my face with the undamaged hem of my shirt, I turned and left.
The initial shock subsided, and exhaustion struck relentlessly, leaving me staggering through the smoke.
This is bound to come out one way or another.
Sooner or later, I’ll be branded a murderer though given the circumstances of “self-defense,” the worst-case scenario is likely just expulsion.
Let’s hope that’s all it is.
There was no time to stand.
I had to find the others; the main storyline was unfolding, and the criminals out there would be far more numerous.
I walked for a long time through the burning ruins, my dry footsteps echoing steadily.
Fire and darkness intertwined, obscuring my vision and making direction unclear.
Suddenly, from within the thick smoke ahead, a figure slowly emerged.
Following that figure was a large, plump tail wagging warily.
“Someone there?” A voice sliced through the haze, not far off, jolting me out of my thoughts.
I spun around, squinting through the smoke to see who the hell it was.
Ojiro Mashirao stepped into view, his posture tense, tail tucked close like he was ready to bolt or fight at a moment’s notice.
His eyes darted around the wrecked sim zone before settling on me, a mix of relief and confusion washing over his face.
“Onodera?
You’re here?” His voice was thick with worry.
“You okay?
I just heard someone screaming this way… Was that you?”
I froze for a beat, scrambling to pull my shit together.
My head was still spinning from the emotional whiplash, killing two people a few minutes ago, playing it cool the next, but I forced a shaky grin, hoping it’d smooth over any cracks he might notice.
“Yeah…no cap on God,” I said, keeping my tone as steady as I could manage.
“I have to run for my life to avoid being killed.” I nodded toward the mess, keeping it vague.
“There were too many of them.
Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t have gotten out unscathed.
You good?
Hurt anywhere?”
He followed my gesture, staring at the faint marks, but his expression didn’t shift much.
“I’m fine.
But…are you okay?
You don’t look fine at all.”
“Dead tired, if I’m being real,” I cut him off fast, not giving him room to dig deeper.
“Dunno if I’ll last ’til the end of this.
No time to stand around, and I’m literally struggling just to stand now.
Seen anyone else?”
Ojiro shook his head, his tail twitching slightly.
“Just you.
I got warped here solo.
But if you’re right, we need to find the others and regroup fast.”
I nodded, latching onto the plan.
“Kay, let’s move.
Stay sharp, these bastards ain’t pushovers, and I doubt they’ll back off easy.”
We started walking – or more accurately, he almost carried me the whole way, deal with any punks dumb enough to cross us.
I could feel his eyes boring into my face, like he was trying to puzzle out what really went down in there.
I kept my pace steady, shoving down the unease creeping up my spine.
The last thing I needed was him figuring out the truth, not now, not when everything was already hanging by a thread.
We wove through the fire zone, passing charred sim buildings and thick clouds of black smoke that stung my eyes and throat.
Out of nowhere, Ojiro broke the heavy silence.
“Onodera, you think we’ll make it out of here?” His question hit me like a brick, stopping me dead in my tracks.
“Out?
Whatcha mean?”
“Don’t you see?” he pressed, his voice quieter now, laced with uncertainty.
“This isn’t like any training we’ve done.
It’s a real fight.
You think… we’ve got what it takes to pull through?”
I turned to face him, locking eyes.
His were wide, brimming with doubt and nerves, searching for something to cling to.
“We’ve got more than enough,” I said, my voice flat and colder than I’d intended.
“Not just getting out, we’ll make sure everyone’s safe too.
That’s why you’re a hero, right?”
“What do you mean ‘I am a hero’?”
“Because no hero would be selfish enough to steal points from other entrance exam candidates like I did, and scream like a woman a few minutes ago,” I sighed.
“But as I said, no one will get killed.
I guarantee it.”
Ojiro held my gaze, weighing my words like they were a lifeline.
After a long beat, he nodded.
“Alright.
If you’re that sure, I’ll trust you.”
I gave a curt nod back, shutting my mouth before I said anything else.
Our footsteps mingled with the roar of the flames and the distant, eerie sounds echoing through the U.S.J.
I’d played confident, but Ojiro’s look, half-doubt, half-faith stuck with me.
I just hoped he wouldn’t piece together what really happened back there.
…
We cleared the fire zone and hit the central plaza, where shit got real clear – and real ugly – fast.
It was worse than I’d imagined, a gut-punch of a scene straight out of the worst-case scenarios I’d run through in my head.
Eraser Head – Aizawa Shota – was a broken mess, smashed into the ground by the Nomu.
Blood pooled around him, his body limp, and I couldn’t tell if he was still breathing.
Izuku, Tsuyu, and Mineta were pinned down nearby, cornered by Shigaraki Tomura and that grotesque Nomu.
Izuku’s arm was twisted at a bad angle, looked like he’d tried a Smash on the damn thing and got nothing but a wrecked limb for his trouble.
Tsuyu was inches from Shigaraki’s decay range, her face pale but determined.
The situation was fucked beyond words, spiraling out of control faster than I could process.
“Where the fuck is All Might?!” I snapped, my voice booming through the chaos.
“Screw it.
Ojiro, listen up and do what I’m going to say.”
Before he could get a word in, I barreled on: “Drag Aizawa-sensei to safety.
I’ll distract these assholes.”
“Are you insane?!” Ojiro hissed, his voice trembling with panic.
“Those two aren’t something you or we can handle!
We need to wait for the other heroes!”
“No time to wait or waste!” I shot back, my eyes locked on the scene ahead.
“If we don’t act, not just us, everyone here will DIE!
I’ll buy some time so please MOVE!”
“Onodera,” Ojiro called out, his voice steady for the first time.
“Whatever you’re planning, just make sure you survive, okay?”
I didn’t answer.
But something in his words, something warm and stupid and human, made me almost smile.
Ojiro then took off toward Aizawa like a shot, his tail whipping behind him as he sprinted.
Once I saw him reach Aizawa’s side, I sucked in a deep breath, mustered all the strength I had to push myself to move out from cover and taunting: “Oy, didn’t your grandmother teach you how to behave?!”
Shigaraki turned around, his bloodshot eyes flashing with a bizarre mixture of surprise and rage behind the terrifying hand-shaped mask.
“Oh, another foolish prey.
This is going to be interesting.
Nomu, play with him!”
The Nomu charged on command, a hulking blur of muscle and menace barreling straight for me.
It was fast, faster than anything that size had any right to be, and packed with tank-like durability, regen, and enough raw power to shred normal heroes without breaking a sweat.
Most people wouldn’t stand a chance.
But I wasn’t most people.
I knew this bastard inside and out, every strength, every trick.
As its massive fist rocketed toward me, I shifted my body to full Tungsten-Titan alloy, tried to tank all the impact.
The damn thing then swung its fist, smashing me aside like a ragdoll.
The hit sent me flying like a bullet.
Even with my alloy skin taking the brunt, the shockwave rattled my brain inside my skull.
I tasted blood.
My insides were churning.
If I take another punch, I’ll die before I even have a chance to transform.
Fuck, this thing hits harder than a freight train…
My left hand felt like it was about to be crushed into a pulp, and being thrown so violently that a section of the wall collapsed really forced me to reassess the situation.
My left hand still seemed to be able to move, but overall it was useless.
Both my fibula bones seemed broken too, and the inability to breathe properly showed just how badly I was in trouble.
But even so, despite everything, I still stepped forward with tons of pain with everthing i had, tried to take deep breaths to stay calm even though my body was shaking like it was about to go on strike.
The Nomu didn’t wait, just lunged again, its blank eyes locked on me.
Shigaraki cackled in the background, clearly enjoying the show.
I braced myself, mind racing.
This wasn’t going to be easy, and I’d be damned if I let these freaks walk all over.
Time to dig deep and fight like hell.
And I have a plan…