You Must Learn to Move On

The pain from my collision with the floor doesn't immediately register. For a brief time, I'm trapped in an uncertain limbo between normalcy and numbness. Eventually, the feeling returns in the form of a sharp ache in my butt. I recoil at the pain and quickly switch to a position on my side. As I wait for the tenderness to fade, I glance at the stopwatch in my hand. 8.63 seconds. A sigh of content escapes my mouth. That's significant improvement on Impel's time limit. Of course, it took intense focus to reach that point. And I have to account for a margin of error, since timing myself isn't a very accurate method of thought drags my attention back to the Nomu standing in front of me. It stares forward blankly, probably unaware that it isn't using its quirk anymore. I can trace its eyes directly to a burned spot on the wall, the area that its Laser Vision was attacking moments ago. The lasers themselves are so weak that they barely cause any damage, making this Nomu the perfect dummy for me to practice on. The thought of asking it to time me crosses my mind but I quickly shoot it down. I learned a long time ago that the Nomus were not capable of precise tasks.

I stagger back on to my feet and step over to a nearby table where my stuff is placed. As I guzzle down the last of my water, I swipe at the screen of my phone for the time. 9:56 pm. The realization that it's this late almost makes me choke on water. I scramble through my contacts to send a message to Kurogiri to take me home. If I'd gone until 10:00 without notice, he'd probably make me spend the night in the Nomu warehouse. I've only had to do it once but the Nomus' empty eyes and the hard rumble of machinery was enough to haunt me forever. Not a punishment that I'm keen on reliving. As per usual, Kurogiri doesn't bother to actually reply. Just as I finish tossing all of my exercise equipment into my bag, a warp gate opens a few feet away from me and I hop through.

I softly land on the other side as I close my eyes, readying myself for some kind of lecture on punctuality. But it doesn't come. When I actually look around, the bar is totally empty. There's no signs of recent activity except for a steaming plate at my usual stool. It's a simple dish, rice and pork. The kind of food that you make in a hurry. A pang of guilt strikes me when I think about how much I must have inconvenienced Kurogiri. I make a mental note to apologize the next time I see him as I start to dig in. Due to its simplicity, the meal tastes a little bland and I begin to zone out as I mindlessly shovel food in my mouth. The faint prickle in my lower back drags my thoughts towards my quirk training. I was a little surprised by my progress today. It was my first session since the USJ attack. It didn't take all that long for my arm to heal since it was only a miniscule fracture. But Kurogiri had confined me to weeks of bed rest so I was bit afraid that I would regress a little in that time. Today was all endurance so I think that I should focus more on control for tomorrow. I realized recently that I focused too much on using Impel. Ideally, it would be second nature, the kind of thing that I don't even need to think about.

Have you ever stared at your hand for a while? Just watching all of the subtle movements and twitches. If you contemplate for long enough, your own hand will start to feel like a foreign object. Less like a part of you and more like the robotic arm in some crane game. Every motion takes conscious effort in a system of inputs and outputs. Eventually, it sends a shiver down your spine and you have to try desperately to focus on literally anything else. That's the only way the experience of suddenly having a quirk. The months that I spent training only succeeded in helping me get used to the idea of having a quirk. Now that I'm accustomed to the mere existence of this "new limb", I need to truly make it a part of me.

My deep train of thought is derailed by the sound of chopsticks scraping against an empty plate. I hastily grab the plate and move to wash it. I'm alone but the thought of someone seeing me so zoned out is embarrassing enough on its own.

As I make the trek back upstairs to my room, a few arrant noises stop me in my tracks. The possibility that I woke up Shigaraki chills me to the bone. A few moments of concentration reveal that it's coming from his room. Standing quietly at the door, I can hear the muted sound of music and stock sound effects. He's just playing video games late again. I don't dare let out a sigh of relief, for fear of disturbing Shigaraki while he's in the zone. I walk to my room at a gentle pace, praying for my life with every creaking floorboard I step on. Only once I've closed my door do I realize that I wasn't breathing. Gulping in air, still as silent as possible, I lightly toss my workout bag on the floor. Out of habit, I give a cursory glance for anything obviously out of place. The place hasn't really changed in the time that I've lived here. The only significant difference comes in the form of a small pile of books that would look like a mess to any onlooker. But to me, it's an indispensable library of knowledge. Since I couldn't train my body or quirk during my healing period, I resolved myself to cultivate my mind. I did my best to abandon all of the notes I had taken in the past and start anew. Instead of trying to take positive tips from the Pros, I fixated on their flaws and weak points. Re-teaching myself how to look at a fighter with a more tactical eye. The thirteen notebooks, with every page filled to the indents, were the fruits of my labor. Of course, those were merely filled with information on the Pros. I had an entirely different pile dedicated to the U.A. students.

I could barely hear the sound of light steps beyond the sound my own furious scribbling. The light, dull thuds and slow but steady pace were enough to determine that it was Kurogiri. I slid the notebook off my desk and dove into bed. I was supposed to be getting bed rest, although my arm had all but completely healed. I put on my best relaxed face as Kurogiri opened the door. "Midoriya?" he said in a tenuous voice.

"Yeah. What's up" I muttered through a fake yawn. He didn't react but he obviously saw through my half-assed facade.

"You're still not going to train today," he started off, "but you can still put your time to good use. You probably already know that the U.A. Sports Festival is happening today. You should watch the broadcast and take notes. It's fairly likely that you'll have to fight those students again so it's best for you to get an advantage now."

"Thanks, Kurogiri!" I responded cheerfully. He only nodded in return and closed the door. I hopped out of bed and started searching for blank notebooks. It was such a relief to know that I could watch the festival without constantly listening for nearby footsteps. Settling into my desk chair, I fired up my computer and tuned into the first channel with a live feed.

My fingers flew as I watched the action unfold. The event kicked off with a bang in the obstacle course run. Immediately, I recognized certain students from USJ. Specifically, Bakugo and Todoroki. The sheer power of their quirks meant that they left every other student in the dust. Not to say that they didn't perform fantastically as well. The entirety of the first year class excelled in both the obstacle run and the cavalry battle. It was so interesting to observe all of the unique quirks. Frog, Creation, Copy, Hardening, Steel, and more. I got so caught up in jotting down every ability that I barely focused on the action itself. It was much easier to pay attention in the main tournament. But in those 1 on 1 fights, I found myself feeling a little disheartened. To watch these incredible people use their talents to the maximum, it was sobering in a way.

Especially Bakugo. A new concept struck me as he stood atop the winner's pedestal, accepting his 1st place medal furiously. I had never really thought about how much he must've worked to improve his quirk. To me, Bakugo was always gifted straight from the beginning. He had the natural head start that I wanted so badly. I would tell myself "If I got a great quirk, I would still work hard." Watching him fight with his full strength made me realize that Bakugo did put in the effort to be where he is now, who he is now. They say that hard work beats talent when talent doesn't work hard. But what about when it does? For me, the answer was work even harder.

That was the mindset that kept me going through today. It's a warm, comforting thought that helps prematurely lull me to sleep as I slip into my covers. However, there's a gnawing fear that's festering inside of that hope. It's the keen sense that I've forgotten something of grave importance. I run through the day's events to make sure that I didn't mentally misplace anything. Amid the gray fog of vague conversations and exercises, one whispered statement from Shigaraki stands out like a shining lighthouse.

"Try to look professional tomorrow. I've taken the liberty of inviting the Hero Killer to a meeting."

Like a punch to the face, my sudden recollection jolts me awake. Stain the Hero Killer? Here tomorrow? How could I possibly have forgotten something like that?! Recently, he's become like a celebrity in the underground. A masked villain bold enough to pick Pro Heroes off one after another, like a bird of prey. This must be something that was decided on while I was healing. I could foresee Kurogiri or even All for One stopping any information from flowing to me. Part of me agrees with them, that part being the one that can't sleep now. I can't stop wondering and wondering. What will we talking about? How did Shigaraki get him to agree to a meeting? Is he going to join the League? If he does, where's he going to sleep? Does he sleep?

After what feels like hours, my fears and anxieties blend into a lullaby that drags me into submission.

Like usual, I don't wake up to a blaring alarm or a hurried voice. I'm dragged out of unconsciousness by the natural wishes of my body. I groggily wipe my face as my thoughts drift towards the possibility of breakfast. As I raise myself out of bed, my fingers brush against the edge of my pillowcase. For a moment, I reminisce about an instance from my childhood. I cut holes in an old pillowcase, wore it like a mask, and pretended to be a hero. Hmm. A mask.

Stain! The realization hits me so hard that I trip over my sheets and crash to the floor. I do my best to think calming thoughts as I stagger to my feet. It doesn't work. The strong sense of panic stays with me as go through my routine. I look ridiculous, terrified out of my mind while brushing my teeth. I hurriedly toss on jeans, a black t-shirt, and a green jacket. I start to race out my door but I'm suddenly halted by another thought. What if he's already here? I could hurt the League's reputation if I burst in like I was late for class. Instead, I slide my feet along the ground in an effort to make less noise. At the staircase, I listen for the sound of conversation or a confrontation. I can't hear anything that would indicate either of the two. I take a second to straighten out my shirt before walking down.

Kurogiri has a plate of breakfast out before I even reach the bottom step. It looks to be the same rice and pork from last night reheated. I give a small bow of respect before starting to eat. I do my best to take small bites as I initiate the conversation.

"When's Stain gonna be here?" I blurt out without thinking. Kurogiri only gives a small sigh before responding.

"Actually, I'm supposed to warp him here in thirty minutes." I glance at a nearby clock. 11:30 pm. Jeez, I slept much later than I thought I had. "More importantly," he continues "I can already guess that, despite my urgings, Shigaraki is still in bed."

"Should I go ask him to get up?" I inquire, secretly hoping with all my soul that Kurogiri says no.

"I don't think so." His reply rouses a cheer from me, on the inside. "If we get him into a nasty mood then this whole summit that we've arranged would fall apart in an instant. I silently nod in agreement as I continue to eat. I just hope that I'm not the one that needs to hold the conversation.

At almost the precise moment that the clock ticks to 11:58, heavy footfall echoes from the stairs. Shigaraki enters the room looking surprisingly professional. It's his usual all black outfit but his hair isn't matted and his eyes aren't foggy. His appearance wouldn't at all indicate that he was asleep five minutes ago. He drops a few photos on the bar and reaches for the mug that Kurogiri hands him. Judging from his lack of reaction, it's probably coffee.

"I'll do all the talking, got it?" he asks without expecting an answer. "Do your best to not look stupid." The command seems to be directed solely at me. Kurogiri and I just nod in return. "Bring him here." Kurogiri's eyes squint slightly in focus as a gate forms at the far side of the room. A few moments pass before he materializes through the mist.

The Hero Killer's appearance immediately unsettles me. He slouches slightly in a stance that resembles an animal, ready to strike at any moment. His body is wrapped in a mix of combat gear and there seems to be at least one knife stored every six inches. His figure is especially menacing when cloaked in his red, tattered scarf and mask. Combined with his flat, scarred face, he gives off the aura of a man that has lived knee deep in battle for years. It's a getup that would look desperate on someone less grizzled. Stain doesn't try to look cool. He just is.

His eyes travel lazily across the room before landing on the three of us. Shigaraki takes the first move and addresses the Hero Killer.

"Well, Stain, this is the base of the League of Villains." He motions towards the empty room to accentuate his claim. Stain looks thoroughly unimpressed.

"You said that you wanted to discuss how our 'interests' might line up," he responds gruffly.

"Tch. So rude," Shigaraki mutters in an annoyed tone before continuing. "If we're gonna be like that, then yes. I have an idea on how we can help each other." Shigaraki grabs the photos from earlier and shows them to Stain. I can see from behind Shigaraki that the photos are of Bakugo and Todoroki. Stain looks to be just as surprised as I am.

"Are you serious? What the hell do these kids have to do with anything?" he demands.

"As we discovered during our attack, the students of UA were a bit more… rowdy than expected. Most of them are nothing that we can't handle except for these two. Their quirks make them too difficult to put down with our current stats. But you should be able to handle it without a sweat."

"And what makes you think that I'm going to kill two children?"Stain demands in an infuriated tone.

"First of all, these two are enrolled in the Hero Course. They're being trained to be fakes, or whatever, and I know how you hate those." Stain seethes a little in response to Shigaraki comment but allows him to continue. "And these two were the biggest obstacle between us and All Might. If we get into a similar scenario, then they might rob of the chance to kill the Number One Hero." Shigaraki delivers every word with cold efficiency in a way that seems impartial but still cruel.

Stain seems to be unable to contain his annoyance with Shigaraki and explodes. "I thought that this 'League' would be something more worthwhile but that was clearly too optimistic. You're all just worthless, a bunch of trash with no ideals. You don't want to create something or change anything. You're just some whiny brat who's bored!" He points directly at Shigaraki. "I can see right through you."

Shigaraki doesn't react for a second. Then, he starts to shake violently. His fingers move erratically as he clenches them into a fist. The photos in his hand turn to dust which scatters across the floor.

"You don't know a damn thing, you freak!" He spits the words out as he lurches forward. Stain reacts quickly and grabs one of the knives stored on his ribs. A flash of steel soars through the air, straight at Shigaraki's chest. Before the blade can find it's mark, two black masses accumulate in front of Shigaraki and above Stain's head. The dagger flies through the first gate and is on a direct path to Stain when his hand tears through the air in a blur. He catches the knife and, with his free hand, reaches for a longer blade resting on his back. He dashes past the warp gate and into direct combat with Shigaraki. They both claw at each other but Stain has the slightest advantage in range. His short sword cleaves through the skin of Shigaraki's shoulder. The slash is deep enough to cause blood to gush from the wound. Shigaraki moves to attack further but suddenly freezes in mid-movement. He falls to the ground, completely paralyzed. Stain moves to execute him while he's defenslees.

I kick myself into high gear. I grab the stool that I was sitting on and toss it at Stain. He barely makes an effort to swat it away but that gives me a chance. I activate Impel in the hopes that I can get some clue as to what his quirk is. For Stain, I sense a feeling of imprisonment. I can dimly acknowledge the sensation of chains between my fingers. And the taste of blood on my tongue.

When I deactivate it, I'm just as confused as before. With no back-up plan, I continue to rush forward. As I get closer, it's plainly obvious that Stain has an overwhelming advantage in a 1 on 1 fight. He swings his short sword at me but even as I roll to dodge, it's obvious that I can't avoid it. However, as his attack approaches, Stain suddenly begins to tilt backwards. My eyes fall to the floor where Shigaraki has dissolved a small part of Stain's leg. With the Hero Killer off balance, I charge forward and push him with all my might. He's launched backwards as a portal is constructed behind him. Stain falls through and comes out from a portal on the roof. He lands with a dull thud but is quick to get back to his feet. I stare him down as Shigaraki stumbles back to his feet. Surprisingly, Stain chooses to sheathe his blades rather than launch another assault.

"Hmph. It looks like this sorry gang can at least muster a half-decent defense. As long as you're still opposed to the Hero society, I see no reason to eliminate you." Understanding his intentions, Kurogiri composes a portal behind him. Stain begins to walk through but turns to us half-way. "Make no mistake. I won't ally myself with some punks with no ambition." He sends us another steeled glare as he disappears through the mist.

Seconds pass without a sound between. Once I'm sure of Stain's retreat, I let out a sigh of relief. This seems to inspire Shigaraki to kick an already broken stool out of rage. As splinters scatter across the floor, Shigaraki slams his hand on the bar with an ear shattering sound. Without saying anything, he walks back towards the stairs and to his room. Kurogiri moves sluggishly to grab a broom from behind the bar but ends up collapsing onto a stool halfway. I follow suit.

"That was... unfortunate," Kurogiri declares, his voice riddled with fatigue. "The Hero Killer could've proved invaluable to our cause." I can only nod in response, my brain too shocked to form a decent reply.

A few hours later, tensions seem to have loosened up a little. I for one succeeded in winding down, at least a little. Kurogiri seems to have recovered as well and is back at the bar for now. Shigaraki, on the other hand, hasn't emerged from his room since. Honestly, I prefer this over Shigaraki in a bad mood but I feel like all of this alone time might not be helping. Still, I won't be the one to bring that up.

At about 9:17 pm, while eating dinner, a sudden urge strikes me. It's a stupid impulse but I can't ignore it in good conscious.

"Hey, Kurogiri, where did you take Stain?" I ask tentatively.

"Hosu City. He was already staking out a location so I returned him there," he responds smoothly.

"I want you to take me there." He turns to look at me but I cut him off before he can question me. "I know that it's dangerous, and I'll take full responsibility, but this doesn't feel right. To let such a valuable ally just slip through our fingers. This is the kind of idea that needs at least a few chances."

"He already spoke is mind about the League," Kurogiri answers strictly. "But," he continues, "if you think that it is worth it, then I'm required to enable you." A portal forms before me and I'm about to enter when Kurogiri goes on. "At the first sign of danger, contact me. I'll have you out in a second." I give him a fleeting smile as I fade through the gate.

On the other side, my first experience is a biting, gentle wind. It's spring but the higher up you are, the colder the it gets. A quick glance confirms the fact that I'm on a rooftop. Despite how slow it is, the wind seems to pass through my skin and bite at my raw nerves. I clench my jacket tight as I look for any sign of Stain. I can only detect him from the slight movement of his scarf in the wind. If not for that, he would be completely invisible. I approach him slowly with no efforts to hide my presence. For someone as perceptive as him, it would just be a waste of effort. I get within four feet before Stain holds a hand up to stop me.

"What do you think you're doing here?" he asks in a threatening tone. I can't imagine that just admitting I want him to join us would go over well so I pull a question out of nowhere.

"Why do you do what you do? Kill heroes, that is." I ask calmly. He looks at the ground and collects his thoughts before responding.

"I hate this Hero Society. It's turned the noble idea of a hero and turned it into something malformed. Just look at any Pro. Why did they join the hero business? Was it to help those in need or defend the weak? No, it was the fame or the money. The number of lives that you save is reduced to a statistic which determines how much you get paid. There shouldn't be a reason to save lives, and it sure as hell shouldn't be greed! If I can keep fighting, then I can weed out the trash that society produces. There will be nothing left but the pure, correct idea of a hero!"

He motions to the dazzling city, as if to proclaim how far his ideals would spread. Every word he speaks is powerful, filled to the brim with his determination. I can see clearly why someone like Stain would despise Shigaraki's careless attitude. I want to respond and when I do, the words come to me easily.

"I can understand everything that you're saying, almost too easily. I know what that feels like, to become nothing more than a red X on some agency's spreadsheet. Heroes took everything I had and then tried to sweep me under the rug with money. But that wasn't so bad for me. What hurt the most was when I was afraid." I can see clearly the alley where I fought.

"I was alone and I needed help but I never got any. It was a hero that plunged me even deeper into my own fear. But when that happened, I was the bad guy, not them." I remember the feeling of terror, the darkness closing in on my senses. And then I recall a hand reaching out and taking me away from all of that fear.

"I want to change the world too. I need to change it, to make it better. There won't be any more fakes or lies. The kind of society that I want to make will be one where heroes are heroes and villains are villains!"

Stain stares at me incredulously. Then, a genuine smile breaks across his face.

My message to Kurogiri gets through quick and I'm back at the bar in less than five seconds. Shigaraki is also waiting, though he looks much less eager to be there. I answer their question before either of them can ask it.

"Stain wants to join the League of Villains."

A static clap breaks through the room. I recognize the sound of feedback as All for One's communication set.

"Excellent, Midoriya. The Hero Killer will be vital to our future plans. It is time to expand the League's arsenal. With Stain's philosophy on our side, numerous elite villains will be sure to follow," he declares jubilantly.

I involuntarily smile a little and try to continue. "Anyways, he said that he would contact us later with his terms and other general info."

"Oh, his terms," Shigaraki repeats sarcastically. "As if some loser like him has any right to demand anything from us." He stands up and saunters over to me. "But at least you managed to recruit the self-righteous bastard, Deku!" He spits the words out before turning around and leaving again. As I watch him walk away, my thoughts drift back to what Stain said.

"I'll work with the League but I want you to know," he said intensely, "that there is one thing that I won't stand for. A half-assed group. If any member is content to be lazy and achieve nothing, then I won't stick around."

As Shigaraki retreats back to his room, I have to wonder if he actually has any true motive. Or is he just finding a way to spend his time?