Hero Killer vs Sussy Baka 2
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…
-Clang!-
-Thud!-
-Bam!-
The sounds of battle echoed through the alleyway. Two figures clashed relentlessly, lunging at each other like beasts before retreating, only to charge in again.
One wielded a katana, swinging with deadly and restless precision, each strike aimed to end his opponent's life.
The other relied solely on his fists, seizing every opening to land a blow. When dodging wasn't an option, he blocked with his forearms, his attacks leaving more and more bruises on his opponent as the fight dragged on.
'How could a mere brat… a sprout of a fake hero, beat me?!!!'
Stain's teeth ground together, his frustration mounting as he struck again and again. His opponent, though slightly winded, was nowhere near as battered as he was.
-Clang!-
He didn't want to admit it, but the brat in front of him was far more skilled in close combat.
Every time he swung his katana, the attack was deflected. At best, he managed to leave shallow cuts on the suit, but never deep enough to reach skin—never enough to draw blood.
That, or something else was blocking his katana's strikes under the brat's suit. He simply couldn't feel his blade hitting flesh.
-BAM!-
"Khg—!"
A fist crashed into Stain's ribs, and he felt them crack under the impact.
He managed to hold himself together, aware that any show of weakness would mean his defeat.
However, the pain was enough to awaken Stain into a realization.
At this rate, if things continue as they were, he was going to lose.
Rapidly, his gaze flickered toward the ones he had tried to kill earlier, the other brat and the fake hero. They were still paralyzed, but what did it matter when they were too far away to be used as bait?
He wanted to go and finish them off, but he couldn't, not when Suzaku was dictating the flow of battle, forcing him to react rather than attack. Trying to get close to the paralyzed heroes was out of the question—he could barely even hold his ground!
His gaze flickered to the countless weapons Suzaku had stripped from him earlier. Some were scattered across the ground, just within reach… yet he knew that if he even dared to go for one, Suzaku would land a strike he wouldn't be able to recover from.
If only… if only he could draw blood from this brat and lick it, all this trouble would be over.
-Bam!-
"Argh—!"
Another blow connected—this time to his face, snapping his head back violently.
If he had a proper nose, it would have surely caved in from the force of that punch alone.
For a brief moment, his consciousness wavered, his vision blurring as his body nearly gave in.
But—
"RAAAAGH!"
With a guttural roar, Stain forced himself back to reality, returning to the combat in an instant.
However, that last hit had made things clear to him, he couldn't continue like this. He had to draw blood from Suzaku… One way or another.
-Swoosh!-
Thus, with his spirit recovered, and maybe even flaring even more fiercely, he swung his katana in a wide arc, aiming to take one of Suzaku's arms.
-Clang!-
Much like before, Suzaku deflected it with ease, and with Stain wide open for a counter, he began winding up for another punch.
However, this time, instead of the usual wary and somewhat panicked expression expected from Stain after having his guard open, only a murderous light remained in his eyes.
"Aargh!"
Just as Suzaku pulled his arm back, Stain lunged—his mouth wide open, teeth bared like a rabid animal. Without a shred of hesitation, he aimed to bite Suzaku's ear clean off.
"...!"
The redhead barely managed to dodge, jerking his head to the side at the last second.
"This crazy fuck—!"
Sadly, he didn't even have time to finish his curse before Stain swung his katana again, completely indifferent to whether the bite had landed or not.
Suzaku, still off-balance from dodging the bite, barely managed to evade the slash. It came from an angle his guard was weak against, forcing him into an awkward retreat.
Yet Stain wasn't done.
In an instant, the lunatic lunged again, jaws snapping toward any exposed flesh he could sink his teeth into.
"Cut it out, you damn psycho!"
With a roar, Suzaku's hands shot forward—one clamping onto Stain's wrist, stopping his katana mid-swing, while the other grabbed Stain's face and shoved it back.
Yet even then, Stain thrashed wildly, snapping his teeth like a rabid dog, trying to bite anything—Suzaku's hand, arm, whatever came close enough.
Thus, Suzaku had enough.
—BAM!!!
"Uck—!"
Despite his berserk state, Stain couldn't ignore the brutal knee slamming into his gut, forcing the air out of his lungs all at once.
-Crack!-
"Aaargh!"
Suzaku used the brief moment of weakness to tighten his grip, twisting Stain's wrist sharply. The katana slipped from his grasp, clattering to the ground.
With Stain now disarmed, Suzaku didn't waste a second.
He twisted his body, winding up for an elbow strike.
Then—
-Slam!-
-Crack!-
With all his strength, he drove his elbow into the side of Stain's head. The force sent the bloodthirsty lunatic stumbling, then tumbling to the ground in an uncontrolled roll.
The moment there was distance between them, Suzaku acted fast.
He picked up Stain's katana and flung it far, ensuring it was well out of reach.
Then, without pause, he moved to clear the battlefield.
Weapons scattered around the alley were kicked away, sent skidding across the ground. Some he picked up and hurled even farther, making sure Stain had no means of reclaiming them.
Even his own staff—he put it back to its compartment on his suit.
By the time Stain managed to push himself up, all the weapons were gone.
Now, only two fighters remained. No blades, no tricks—just fists.
"Huff… Huff…"
Stain's breathing was ragged. His stance wavered, his body swaying slightly—whatever was keeping him standing wouldn't last much longer.
And yet…
That fire in his eyes remained.
'Years of preparation, of training, of becoming stronger… I sacrificed so much, just to be worthy of carrying this duty—to cleanse this society… And yet… yet, this damn brat, this future money-chasing fake… he dares stand in my way!'
He took a step forward.
'I will not go down, not from this pest… I have a duty… and some filthy, greedy fake won't be the one to bring me down!'
He took another step. Then another. His speed increased.
'The only one who will bring me down, and put an end to my duty…'
He ran.
'Is All Might!!!'
And so did Suzaku.
"Die!!!"
They clashed—no weapons, no tricks. Just raw, unfiltered combat.
Suzaku unleashed a relentless barrage of punches and kicks, each one calculated, each one honed by years of martial mastery. He targeted the most vulnerable points with ruthless efficiency, aiming to break Stain down piece by piece.
And yet, despite the battering, the Hero Killer lived up to his name.
Through sheer instinct, technique, or something far more primal, he kept up.
He clawed, bit, and lashed out with his spiked boots—fighting like a rabid beast, doing anything to draw blood.
Blow after blow landed against his battered body. He dodged some, blocked others, but he couldn't stop them all.
And yet…
He refused to fall.
Driven by sheer will, by a purpose greater than himself, his broken body moved, each step fueled by the singular goal of killing Suzaku.
Then, in a flash, he lunged—both hands shooting forward, claws ready to rake against Suzaku's skin.
But before they could reach—
Suzaku's hands shot forward as well, locking onto Stain's hands, their fingers interlocking like a lovely couple—only, this was far from being a cute situation like that
For a moment, they were caught in a deadlock.
A moment that lasted barely a second, as Stain still had one weapon left.
"Raaagh!"
His teeth.
With Suzaku's grip keeping his hands in place, he didn't hesitate—lunging in to bite whatever he could reach.
Suzaku barely managed to dodge, twisting his head away from the snapping jaws. But in doing so, he lost ground, their locked hands shifting as Stain pushed forward.
It was a battle of strength, and Suzaku could feel the Hero Killer pressing down on him, closing in inch by inch.
That was… until Suzaku decided to put an end to the Hero Killer's munching addiction.
As Stain lunged in again, his teeth bared—
Suzaku's head shot forward.
—BAM!
—CRACK!
And with a vicious headbutt, slammed into Stain's skull, sending his head snapping back.
The force alone made him falter, giving Suzaku the upper hand in the struggle.
But Suzaku was far from done.
With his grip still firm on Stain's hands, he yanked the villain straight back towards him.
—CRACK!
And with a merciless grin, delivered another headbutt.
The force sent Stain's head back again, blood dripping from his forehead, eyes rolled out
And yet, before he could get too far away, Suzaku pulled him back once more.
Then—
—CRACK!
—CRACK!
—CRACK!
Again. And again. And again.
A relentless headbutting onslaught began.
—CRACK!
—CRACK!
—CRACK!
By the time Suzaku finally released him, Stain stumbled back—his face a bloody mess, his skull undoubtedly fractured.
His knees buckled.
Then, at last—
-Thud-
He collapsed.
His body had given in, no longer able to move.
But Stain's will remained.
His teeth clenched so hard they might crack. 'This—this can't be happening…'
He tried to move.
'Move. Move! This can't end like this…!'
But his body refused.
Instead, all he could do was stare at the ground, at the dark puddle of blood forming beneath him—his vision blurry and unfocused.
Then—
-Tap. Tap. Tap.-
He heard them. Footsteps. Growing closer.
A slow, steady rhythm, like an echo in his ringing ears.
With effort, Stain forced his eyes upward, barely able to see past the haze of pain.
And there, standing over him—
Was Suzaku.
A faint smirk on his lips.
"You…"
Stain forced his voice out, his bloodshot eyes locking onto Suzaku's—or at least where he assumed they'd be beneath those glasses.
"Me…" Suzaku responded ominously, mimicking Stain's tone with an amused tilt of his head.
"You… you're supposed to be a fake." Stain's hands curled into fists, his knuckles whitening from the pressure. "How could you overpower me?"
His voice trembled with rage, disbelief twisting his expression.
"How is it possible that scum like you was able to beat me, when your motivation is nothing more than disgusting money?"
His glare intensified, eyes wild, seeking answers that refused to come.
"It's your Quirk, isn't it?" His breath quickened. "It's only thanks to your Quirk that you were able to defeat me…"
A bitter, hollow laugh escaped him. His gaze dropped to the ground, despair creeping into his voice.
"How unfair… for fortune to favor the fakes… for this cancer to society to be blessed constantly… for the truly just to have all the odds stacked against them—"
—BAM!
A sharp kick to the chin cut his monologue short, snapping his head upward with a violent jolt.
"You never stop monologuing, huh?"
Before his head could slump back down, a hand grabbed his hair and yanked it up, forcing him to stay upright.
Suzaku knelt, bringing his face level with Stain's, his grip firm yet effortless.
"You lost because you simply weren't good enough, amigo." His voice was casual, but his gaze anything but friendly. "My Quirk didn't do much besides stopping your blood from getting in my eyes."
Stain's eyes twitched. His gaze drifted toward Suzaku's glasses—no frames, just an unnatural sprouting of glass from the sides of his head.
It clicked.
"…How is that possible…?" His voice was barely a whisper. "How could I lose then…? How is it possible you were able to defeat me…?"
Suzaku let go, allowing Stain's body to collapse onto the floor. His muscles failed to catch him, his limbs refusing to obey anymore, causing him to slam onto the floor.
The redhead shrugged as he stood up.
"How? Good genes, some faith in God, and good luck, I guess." He smirked slightly. "All that, and a good master."
Stain's fingers scraped against the concrete. Anger boiled within him, bubbling over into a violent tremor.
"You… you're a fake…"
His nails dug in harder, his body twitching.
"I can't go down because of some dirty fake who just had luck. I can't. I mustn't!"
Suzaku watched, eyes narrowing as Stain… began to rise.
Slowly.
Painfully.
Every movement was accompanied by the sickening crack of bones grinding and snapping out of place.
Yet he stood.
Despite the agony. Despite the limits his body had long since reached.
His bloodshot gaze burned with hatred, locked onto Suzaku with terrifying intensity.
"Even if luck… no, even if fate itself is on your side…" His voice dripped with venom. "I will not go down like this…"
He took a step forward.
-SNAP-
The sound of bones breaking rang out, yet Stain's face didn't flinch. His resolve overpowered his body's screams.
"Even if I have to die…"
Another step.
-Cough!-
Blood splattered onto the ground. A rib had punctured something inside him. He felt it—and yet, he kept moving.
"I will drag you down with me… even if it's just to make this world a little cleaner…!!"
His hands trembled, fingers curling into claws, ready to rip into Suzaku even if it meant tearing off his own nails.
His eyes stretched wide, the whites overtaking his irises—
A last, desperate, maddened pounce.
"You… DAMN IMPOSTO—!!!"
—BAM!!!—
Suzaku's fist met his face before he could even finish his scream. A sickening crunch echoed as Suzaku's knuckles sank into Stain's face.
Stain's body flew back, limbs flailing uselessly in the air, a spray of blood and loose teeth trailing in his wake—before slamming onto the ground.
-Thud!-
This time, he didn't get up. His eyes completely rolled out, and not even a twitch was present in his body.
If it wasn't for the barely audible breathing coming out of him, one might have thought he had actually died.
Looking down at the defeated Hero Killer, Suzaku exhaled through his nose.
"Yeah…" he muttered, voice low and indifferent. "I guess you're kinda right on that one."
…
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|Minutes later…|
...
Suzaku sat beside Iida and Native, the three of them waiting for the police to arrive. They leaned against the least dirty part of the alleyway wall, the cold ground beneath them. The paralysis was already gone, and so Iida and Native could move again.
A few feet away, Stain lay unconscious, tied up in his own bandages, scarf, and eyefold. A poodle of drool forming bellow his opened mouth, which now lacked several teeth.
All in all, quite the peculiar scene.
"So, uh… how's the internship going?" Suzaku nudged Iida.
"Hmm? Oh, I'd say it's going well." Iida answered wryly, but his expression darkened as his gaze landed on Stain. "Though, after this, I'm not so sure…"
"Huh? Why? 'Cause of your injuries?" Suzaku raised an eyebrow.
Iida looked down at his shoulder wound, still dripping blood. He'd probably spend a few days in the hospital after this.
"I suppose that's part of it…" He smiled wryly before his expression turned grim. "But mostly, it's because I slipped away from the hero I was interning under just to face the Hero Killer."
Suzaku pointed at the hero Native, sitting beside them. "Aren't you interning under this dude?"
"This dude…?" Native's face twitched.
"Suzuki-kun, that's no way to refer to a Pro Hero!" Iida straightened up instantly, making a chopping motion with his hand—only to slow down after a second. "—but no, I'm interning under the hero Manual. He went off to deal with some trouble, and when I saw the Hero Killer… my body moved on its own. I ended up slipping away just to fight him."
"Heeeh…~?" Suzaku nodded, letting out a long but unimpressed exhale. "How heroic of you."
Iida laughed deprecatingly. "On the contrary. I only moved because I wanted vengeance… He injured my brother, so I forgot my own principles and chased after him like a mindless beast… I… failed as a hero."
Hearing Iida's story, Suzaku was about to reference a meme about a scarred guy obsessed with honor, but figured that might be insensitive, so he shut up.
Instead, he gave the unconscious Stain a kick.
"Feel better?"
Iida sweatdropped, glancing at Stain.
Honestly, he'd gotten his fill of violence midway through the fight. Now, it just felt excessive.
As much as he had been filled with anger before, he was still just a teenager.
After hearing Stain's bones crack for the tenth time, his rage had started to subside.
Now, the guy was in just as bad—if not worse—shape than his brother.
He still hated him, but his stomach couldn't handle seeing more of such a gruesome beatdown.
'Suzuki-kun sure is ruthless… No wonder he won the Sports Festival.' Iida sweatdropped, heaving a sigh. 'I just hope he won't get in trouble for going this far.'
Before he could say anything though, the sound of approaching police sirens caught their attention, interrupting their chat.
They turned their heads toward the alley's exit.
-Thud-
Only for a sudden impact to sound behind them, making them spin around again.
"The hell, you brat?! Where the hell did you run off to when I wasn't looking?!"
It was Mirko.
Suzaku stood up and gave the unconscious Stain another merciless kick.
"I found this guy and beat him up. He's supposed to be called the Hero… Unaliver or something."
"Hah?" Mirko's face twisted in confusion, but as her eyes landed on the villain, her eyebrows shot up. "Oh, you meant the Hero Killer… Wait—what?!"
She turned to Suzaku, dumbfounded, only to see him shrugging with a dumb look on his face.
Scratching the back of her head, she let out a groan, looking at Stain like he was the biggest mess she'd ever seen.
"I take my eyes off you for one second, and you go and capture a serial killer… Great. Let's just hope I won't get into any trouble cause of this…"
Suzaku raised an eyebrow. "He's a what—? No, never mind. That was a stupid question."
As he debated whether to kick the guy again, in honor of whoever he had killed, the police sirens grew louder, making Mirko wince slightly.
Moments later, several police cars parked outside the alley, and from them, several officers began approaching the crime scene.
"Well, hopefully, this won't turn into a pain in the ass," Mirko muttered before walking toward the approaching officers.
After a briefing on the situation by the bunny hero, the police quickly began loading the Hero Killer into a car while others stood by, questioning those involved.
Several officers raised an eyebrow when Suzaku casually explained that he was the one who beat Stain to that state. But after some clarification from the two Pro Heroes present and a few officers recognizing Suzaku as the Sports Festival's top spot, the matter was settled.
One of them tipped his hat and gave Mirko a serious look. "The chief will have a word with you tomorrow, Mirko-san."
"Of course he will…" Mirko groaned, facepalming.
Maybe not entirely settled, but close enough.
Soon after, Native and Iida were taken to the hospital, leaving only Mirko and Suzaku behind, watching in silence as the unconscious Hero Killer was carried away in a police car.
'Fake hero, huh…?'
Suzaku suddenly glanced up at the night sky peeking through the alleyway, his gaze distant.
He hadn't really thought about it before since his life had kinda stayed the same so far, but… why was he still doing this?
Why was he still trying to become a hero?
Originally, his main goal was to make money.
But now that goal was fulfilled. He had money thanks to Tatsuo, so what use was there in remaining a hero?
'Dad said that heroes were rich, and that girls were crazy for them.'
Suzaku weighed the second option, only to shake his head as he discarded it as a possible substitute motivation from now on.
After all, with how awesome he was, girls were already crazy for him.
Who exactly?
Well, it was kinda hard to pinpoint. There were simply too many…
"Ahem."
So, if he had money, and he was already popular with girls… What was left?
What was keeping him on the path of a hero?
Not like he was gonna become a villain if he didn't take this path, but what exactly was keeping him here, as a student of U.A. in the middle of an internship?
He could be doing anything else, enjoying his riches and living a life of waste as he had once dreamed.
What was holding him from doing so?
…
Nothing.
-Whack!-
A sharp slap to the head snapped him out of his thoughts.
"Why the hell are you looking all gloomy over there? I'm the one who has to deal with your mess."
Before Suzaku could respond, Mirko nudged him and started jogging away.
"Come on, serial killer or not, we still have a patrol to finish."
With that, she kicked off the ground and leaped into the night.
Suzaku stood there for a moment, rubbing the spot where she'd smacked him.
He was pretty sure he heard a faint "You better not slip away again!" before she disappeared.
Letting out a sigh, he let out a faint snort.
"I guess I could do it for the sake of balancing my karma or whatever. This body count isn't just gonna disappear, after all."
He shifted his legs to their Mirko mode, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
"Besides, it's often said those who win the lottery get depressed, so who knows? This might make a fun hobby to distract myself… To be a hero."
With that, he kicked off the ground and dashed after Mirko—off to go spread some Suzaku-ish justice.
…
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-To be Continued…-
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(A/N: And so the hero killer is no more... Or is he?
No sus image this week, cause I didn't put one in the patreon.
You can put ones yourself if you want tho)
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