Chapter 55 Accept my apologies

It shouldn't have happened this way. I should have warned her, helped her the moment I saw her that day. The day I talked to her on the phone, I should have told her to go to Izuku as soon as possible, but I kept her with my empty chatter. But was it really my fault?

Mitsuki asked herself, lying in bed with her husband Masaru. She couldn't shake the feeling that on the day Inko was killed by a murderer named Kaiber, she had held her up in the store with her talk about work and all the nonsense she was spouting to stretch the conversation. And at one in the morning, when she was peacefully asleep on her best friend's birthday, an unknown number called, startling her. With sleepy eyes, she picked up the receiver, her tired voice and careless tone tinged with irritation as she said:

— Who is this? — She spoke to the caller in a careless tone, lying on the bed with the phone pressed to her ear, feeling the nervous breath of the person calling her at that hour. With a heavy exhale, the officer finally spoke after a five-second pause.

— Hello, this is the Mustafa Police Department. Are you Mitsuki Bakugo? — the officer asked in a serious tone. The woman's eyes and fatigue vanished in an instant; she shot out of bed, waking her husband with the sudden movement. Clearing her throat, she dropped all her bravado and switched to a respectful tone.

— Ahem... yes, officer, you are calling the Bakugo residence. — Twisting her nightgown between her fingers, she looked at the phone with fear, awaiting bad news. She had never had problems with the law, finances, or debts, apart from her slightly aggressive son who loved to shout all sorts of nasty things at people.

— Who is Midoriya Inko to you? — the officer asked nervously, looking at the corpse of the woman in the alley. The woman was severely mutilated; her ribs were protruding, and her face bore the purest horror.

— She... — She hesitated slightly, pondering the question posed. It's her birthday today, and in her mind, there shouldn't have been any problems. She thought to herself until she resolutely told the officer the truth.

— She is my best friend. Is she okay? — Her body was covered in goosebumps in an instant; calls at one in the morning never bode well, and preparing for the worst, she clenched her fist as tightly as she could.

— I'm sorry to inform you, but your friend has been killed by a serial killer named Kaiber, — he said in a dry tone, seeing her mutilated body. Completely bloodied, bite marks from the maniac were visible on her neck, and the most terrifying part — he had to see her face, filled with horror before her demise.

The air around the woman became heavy in an instant, and with wide eyes, she replayed one thought in her mind:

She is dead.

Mitsuki froze in shock. Her mind refused to accept such a reality, and in the storm of emotions, she could only whisper one word.

— Wh... What? — Her once rude and sassy tone shifted to horror at the realization of the words she had just heard. Her body trembled as if from the cold; her fingers gripped the phone tightly in the hand of the mature woman.

— Tell me it's not true? — This must be a joke, right? After all, it's her birthday, and it's customary to joke on such days.

But it turned out to be a bitter truth that couldn't be denied.

— I'm afraid not, Mrs. Bakugo. We have identified the body. It is her. — A heavy pause followed from the other end. Mitsuki couldn't believe it: her best friend had died that night. If only she hadn't held her back with her chatter, she would be alive, but the event hadn't fully broken her yet, and Mizuki's voice trembled with the weight on her chest.

— Where is she? Tell me where the body is! — Words spilled uncontrollably from her lips, and hearing a quiet sob, Mitsuki's husband, Masaru, approached her, looking at her face, which was about to cry, but suspiciously, she held on with all her might.

— She is at the crime scene; in an hour, we will take her to the central morgue in Mustafa, — the officer reported, turning away from the woman's body. He could no longer bear to look at the horror that had unfolded before his eyes. For the first time in a long while, the once smiling face of a sweet woman with angelic intentions had perished in utter horror, where only agony was readable on her face.

— We would like to ask you about the killer. Perhaps you know any contacts of Ms. Midoriya that may relate to the serial killer? — She could barely hear the officer's voice and threw herself into her husband's arms, who tried to comfort her as best he could, but for the first time, he saw her so broken. His heart ached at the sight of his daring and untouchable wife, who had the audacity to put anyone in their place, crying like a little girl who had lost something precious.

Masaru slightly lowered his hand and picked up the phone that his wife had thrown down in tears. The officer was still on the line, fully aware of the tragic nature of the situation, he maintained his composure.

— Unfortunately, we know nothing. It may have happened due to random circumstances. We would tell you everything we know if you came to us at home, — Masaru replied calmly as his sobbing wife squeezed him, her tears ruining his night pajama, but if she needed to cry, he would do everything possible. He felt helpless regarding his wife's suffering, which saddened him. Pulling Mitsuki closer, the officer spoke for a moment.

— Alright, Mr. Bakugo, please tell us your address, and we will come to you as soon as we can. — The officer's sympathetic voice caught Mizuki's attention, and through her tears, she could only whisper one name.

— An... An... Izuku, — she said before Masaru immediately reacted to her words.

— Officer, I ask you to send your people to Inko Midoriya's residence; she has a son who may be in danger. — Masaru slightly slumped, hoping the killer hadn't reached him before they could get there.

— Yes, they are already there, protecting the boy, you don't need to worry about that. He called us himself, expressing concern for his mother, — the officer heard a radio call to his colleagues, decided to hang up and continue the investigation.

— Okay, thank you very much, we will wait for you at home, — Masaru said through gritted teeth, hanging up the phone and holding her tighter, comforting her with his warmth. She felt a bit better, but the agony of pain still lingered in her soul.

— Why... Masaru... why did it have to be her of all people in the world? — In response, there was only silence, dead silence, accompanied by Masaru's gentle strokes and his erratic breathing that broke the stillness between them. The breathing was uneven and shaky; her entire inner world was reduced to one thought.

Inko is dead.

The one who had drawn her attention to Masaru, the one who had given her a chance, lending her money for her business. Inko had helped her even in the most challenging moments; she had been there for Mitsuki.

****

From that very first meeting in school, they had not gotten along, like two opposite personalities. Inko was an ordinary girl with an unremarkable face and seemingly simple light green hair. An ordinary, unremarkable girl who had no special features, slightly shy and an extremely diligent student. Watching all the boys swirl around the persona of Mitsuki Bakugo, who was almost like Aphrodite in school, receiving flowers and gifts from every boy trying to attract even a little of her attention.

Mitsuki Bakugo was charismatic beyond her years. Her daring smile and character, along with her attractive face, left no one indifferent. She always had attention from the opposite sex and never had to try hard to achieve results. While she basked in the rays of attention among her classmates, her future best friend always remained in the shadow of the class, like a faded shadow that was hard to notice but had its place under the sun.

Inko always tried to make friends in class, but all her classmates saw in her was just a convenient cheat sheet for exams, which they would use and toss aside until the next exams. She tried to connect with her class, but due to her shyness, she couldn't even say a rude word. Inko had grown used to such treatment.

She had never been the star of the class, couldn't attract attention, and to be honest, didn't even try. She simply studied, tried to be helpful, hoping that one day she would be noticed not as a convenient textbook on legs but as a person. But that never happened.

Every time she helped someone with a test, they thanked her… and the next day, they forgot about her existence again, often ignoring her, not even casting approving glances. The only person who never forgot about her was Mitsuki Bakugo. But not in a good way. It irked her how she always ranked at the top of the class. Mizuki wasn't stupid; she just found textbooks boring.

— Hey, nerd! — Mitsuki's voice, bright and loud, echoed down the hallway. Inko flinched, nearly dropping her textbooks. She slowly turned, and her gaze met the smirk of the blonde girl, always surrounded by a crowd.

— You've done the homework already, right? — Mitsuki snatched her notebook without asking and began lazily flipping through the pages.

— I won't even try to figure out these boring formulas… — she said with a haughty voice, looking at Inko, who was ready to sink into the ground under her gaze.

— I… I… — Inko nervously squeezed the strap of her bag. — I don't…

— What? — Mitsuki raised an eyebrow, looking at her as seriously as ever.

— You wouldn't refuse me, would you? — The crowd around Mitsuki erupted in laughter, indulging her words. They watched as the green-haired girl grew anxious and trembled before them, unable to respond properly. Inko felt her cheeks burning with embarrassment. She had never liked moments like that.

She hated being weak.

But even more, she hated disappointing people.

— Fine… — she muttered quietly, lowering her eyes, unable to refuse her. Who was she to deny the star of the class?

— That's a good girl! — Mitsuki slapped her on the shoulder, returning the notebook. And then, without even saying "thank you," she turned back to her friends and became the center of attention again, leaving Inko behind.

As always.

Like a faded shadow.

But every shining star has those times when it temporarily dims, losing its luster, as was the case with Mitsuki. She had simply worn everyone out and lost the attention that all her classmates had once showered on her. She didn't like it; she had always considered herself the best socially, bringing everyone closer — from boys to girls. Like another star in the sky, she was alone among the thick black shadows surrounding her, and left alone, she took attempts to regain her glory, but it was all in vain — she had worn everyone out. Placing her hands on her heart, she heavily accepted her loneliness which drove her mad with its silence, leaving her all alone.

She gazed at the faded Inko, who began to be noticed by the other classmates as they started to lower their attention to their persona. Sitting alone during a break in an empty classroom, she noticed that the very girl she hated with all her heart had entered. Her innocent two emeralds looked into her deep crimson eyes, which expressed indignation, anger, and hatred. Mitsuki fell silent upon seeing Inko awkwardly, almost stumbling, go to her desk under her gloomy gaze.

— Hey, nerd! — she shouted, looking in Inko's direction. Out of fear, Inko fell silent but nervously replied.

— Y… Yes? — Feeling her prey's uncertainty, Mizuki approached her and slammed her palm on her desk, making her even more anxious than before.

— Can you explain what the hell you, green plant, started taking all the attention for yourself? — Inko was shocked and scared at the same time, but why did she think so? Inko just wanted to be helpful and never looked down on people, especially someone like her.

— I... I didn't want to take your glory, — Inko swallowed hard, lowering her gaze. She didn't know what to say since she had never cared about the class's attention. All she wanted was simply to have friends.

But Mitsuki didn't like that.

— Didn't want to? — she mocked, leaning closer so that their faces were almost level. — You've always been the quiet one, but as soon as I turned my back, everyone started hanging out with you! Why, huh?!

— I... I just help with studying... — Inko clenched her hands into fists under the desk, feeling fear rising inside her.

— Ha! Of course, you're the smart one, right? Do you think if you hand out your pathetic knowledge, people will notice you? — Mitsuki despised Inko for her indecisiveness, like in the old saying, "there's always a bigger fish." Her innocent look, her manners, her perfection always drove her crazy, making her feel like an angel in tears.

— I just wanted... to be useful, — Inko whispered, but then felt Mitsuki push her shoulder forcefully.

— Useful?! — Mitsuki's eyes glinted with fury.

— You're pathetic! You've been a nobody your whole life, and suddenly you think you can be someone?! — Inko wanted to say something in response, but at that moment, the classroom door opened, and one of the teachers walked in.

— What's going on here? — Mitsuki instantly straightened, her face adopting an absolutely innocent expression.

— Nothing, we're just talking, — she smiled widely, and then, leaning closer to Inko, she quietly hissed:

— Don't think this is over. — And with those words, she left, leaving Inko in utter confusion. Sitting at her desk, for the first time in her life, Inko felt that she no longer wanted to be afraid. Her fingers tightened on her bag strap, and she took a deep breath, asking herself:

"Why is she like this with me?"

She continued to observe or mock Inko, but in those words, Inko felt not her hatred but a voice of despair trying to reach her. She was asking for help from Mitsuki, who had turned away from everyone surrounding her, suddenly needing help from the one whose presence she regarded as a convenient stepping stone to relieve all her problems. Inko didn't realize that beneath the insults hurled her way lay the same pain.

On one ordinary day, the school emptied, and the hallways grew quieter, filled only with distant voices of duty students. Inko slowly packed her textbooks into her bag, preparing to leave when she heard a cautious voice behind her:

— Hey, nerd... — She flinched and turned around. There stood Mitsuki. But this time, her voice wasn't filled with mockery or anger. Her face didn't wear the usual confident smile, and in her eyes… There was something Inko had never seen before.

Insecurity.

Mitsuki gritted her teeth, tightening her fists, as if trying to gather her thoughts, and then suddenly exhaled heavily:

— We need to talk. — Inko blinked, unsure how to respond. Her entire being screamed to turn around and leave, but something in Mizuki's voice made her stay.

— Okay… — she said quietly. Mitsuki silently turned and walked down the hallway without glancing back. Inko followed her, feeling anxiety grow in her chest with each step. They reached the school roof. Mizuki pushed the door open and stepped forward, then stopped at the very edge, gazing into the sunset sky. Inko cautiously approached.

— What… did you want to say?

Mitsuki was silent. Several long seconds felt like an eternity. And then suddenly, she collapsed to her knees, burying her face in her hands. Inko froze.

— Are… are you okay? — She had never seen someone as confident and unreachable as Mitsuki crying before her like that, looking pathetic in her eyes.

— No, damn it, — Mitsuki's voice was hoarse and trembling.

— Now you see me as pathetic. — Inko didn't know what to reply. She had never seen Mitsuki like this.

— You've always been so… right, so perfect, so… good, — Mitsuki continued, her shoulders shaking.

— And me? I thought if I was the loudest, the most noticeable, the best, then no one would ever forget me. — She sobbed, tears rolling down her cheeks. What made her cry in front of her like a little girl? Her soul? Her big green eyes radiating warmth? Or just an attempt to share her problems with someone?

— And then… then I became nobody's concern. — Inko watched her, feeling a strange heaviness in her chest. She understood her pain no less than her own and wanted to help, as her inner compass led her to want to be useful and assist in such difficult situations.

— Everyone just... left. They got tired of looking at me. They got tired of admiring me. And then… then you, faded, unnoticed, suddenly found yourself in the spotlight. And I… — Mitsuki clawed at her hair, breathing heavily. The pain echoed in her head, causing a migraine.

— I didn't hate you for that. — Inko slowly moved closer and cautiously sat beside her, and unexpectedly for herself, she grasped her hand.

— You didn't hate me… — she said quietly.

— You just… were afraid you would become nobody's concern. — Mitsuki looked into her eyes. She hadn't expected Inko to act like this towards her. Mitsuki didn't understand why she wanted to help her.

— What are you…

— I know how it feels, — Inko tightened her hands on her knees. — To be invisible. To feel like you are needed by no one. I just wanted someone to notice me. But I never wanted to take anything from you. — Mitsuki remained silent at the truth she heard. All this time, her hatred towards her had been a blind, unfounded tower that crumbled under Inko's words.

— I… — her voice faltered, unable to find the right words.

— I don't know what to do. — Inko took a deep breath and extended her hand to her, offering her best smile.

— Let's try starting over. — Mitsuki looked at her doubtfully. Maybe she wanted to mock her, ridicule her pathetic appearance?

— Do you really… after all this…

— We were both foolish, — Inko smiled gently.

— Let's just try to be friends. — Mitsuki hesitated. Then, wiping her tears with her sleeve, she cautiously took Inko's outstretched hand.

— Idiot, — she muttered. But this time there was no anger in her voice. Only relief. After this conversation, their friendship began, lasting a lifetime, until it was cut short in the most vile manner by the bloodthirsty person who took away the diamond in Mizuki's life.

****

— Here are the photos from the crime scene, — the officer showed the couple photos of the dead Inko, who had been brutally torn apart by the killer named Kaiber. Seeing this horrific scene, Mitsuki couldn't hold back and cried out anew, pressing against Masaru.

— Oh God, I can't look at this, — Masaru said, holding her tighter, squeezing her in his embrace while he asked the officer about the identity of the criminal in a cold voice.

— Who could do something like this? — he asked, not tearing his gaze from the officer.

— Kaiber is a serial killer, a maniac, a rapist, and a cannibal. We've been searching for him for a long time, but he cleverly hides, evading us. Here, take his photo. — The photograph was handed to them, honoring them, and they left the kitchen, while the unsuspecting Katsuki slept peacefully.

On the day of Inko's funeral, only Izuku, Mitsuki, and Masaru stood above her gravestone, mourning her. Izuku looked completely out of sorts and deeply grieved over her grave while Mitsuki cried as she saw her name on the headstone.

"Inko Midoriya — loving mother and good friend."

The world of 11-year-old Izuku had collapsed completely and irretrievably; seeking the warmth of an embrace, he pressed against Mitsuki, who mourned just as much for an important person in his life. Tears were useless since all the tears had been exhausted from grief before the funeral. And now he was left.

Only one in the torment of this world.

****

— Hey, Deku, I want to talk, — Katsuki approached Izuku, who was putting his books in his locker, his voice trembling with nerves from the recent events with Takeshi. He had died with a smile as Izuku accompanied him on his final journey, returning his body to nature. Hearing Katsuki's voice, Izuku felt irritated, as he was tired of being the one who was constantly bullied when he should be putting people like him in their place.

— Not now, Kacchan. Just go away. — Izuku's tone emphasized his mood of alienation and coldness, which Katsuki, in tune with his self-absorbed and selfish nature, couldn't understand. Fuyumi's conversation left Katsuki no chance of feeling guilty not only towards Deku but also towards Inko, leaving him restless. Mizuki held a mourning for Inko every year on her birthday. He didn't understand any of this: why someone like Deku's mom should receive such dedication on this day, but Fuyumi's words awakened that compassionate nature from his father, which he tried to suppress. But time and again, like an internal parasite, it poisoned his inner character, making him soft and weak.

— Hey, nerd. I just want to talk. — Not hiding his disgust in his voice, Katsuki grabbed Izuku by the shoulder, previously heating his hands. Unable to hold back the resentment any longer, Izuku grabbed him by the forearms, slamming his head into the metal locker. Grabbing his old friend by the collar, Izuku looked at him with disdain while Venom's voice whispered approval for his actions.

— Yes, you did the right thing. Now he won't bother us. — Venom was satisfied, as no one dared to wipe their feet on them. Izuku was tired of enduring all the teasing he had suffered since the day he entered school; if he wanted to help those who couldn't defend themselves, he had to start with himself.

— Now speak, — Izuku said, holding Katsuki firmly by the collar. Shocked by the courage of his old friend, Katsuki forgot why he had come to talk to him.

— Damn Deku, what are you doing? I… — But the dam had burst, and Izuku, unwilling to accept that he had been bullied since the very day he entered school, didn't want his mother and Takeshi to see him as weak when he should be going toward his dream for the sake of his mother, whom he had promised, and Nejire, who was waiting for him.

— What am I doing? Let me guess, I'm taking back what I should have. — Katsuki ground his teeth, trying to break free from Izuku's dead grip, but the latter refused to let go under any pretext. The emerald eyes of Deku, which once radiated concern for those around him, dimmed; now they were determined eyes that feared no one. He didn't flinch or feel fear as he held Katsuki; only cold rage surged within him.

— Do you even understand how much trouble you've caused, Kachchan? I'm fed up with your antics and your words! — Izuku's voice was hissing with anger. He was torn apart by rage, and if he were weak-willed, the tentacles would have burst from his body, choking Bakugo. Izuku kept his composure, although he was angry with him. Holding him by the collar of his shirt, Izuku saw Bakugo's frightened eyes, which took him back to the time he fell off that log into the river — the eyes were the same as now. He reached out to him, but that day, Bakugo had thrown an explosion at him.

Leaning closer to his ear, Izuku hissed like a rattlesnake.

— You think you're the strongest, right? In reality, you're just a sheep in wolf's clothing. — Bakugo's eyes widened in shock at how accurately he was described. Bakugo had never wanted anyone to know that.

Katsuki ground his teeth, his heart racing. He felt Izuku's hand still gripping the collar of his shirt, while Izuku's face remained cold and impenetrable, like it was carved from stone.

— You're talking nonsense, Deku, — Katsuki gritted out, trying to maintain his arrogance, but his voice trembled treacherously from the accuracy of Deku's analysis. He wasn't himself. He hadn't been raised this way; it was just a prank from Deku. — Katsuki convinced himself, but Izuku's tone convinced him otherwise.

— Nonsense? — Izuku scoffed, while Venom inside whispered more radical words to break him.

— You've spent your whole life pretending to be a king, the "great" Bakugo Katsuki. The strongest in class, the most promising hero. But the truth is, you're scared. You're scared to cry. — Katsuki tensed, trying to suppress a panic flare-up. His hands trembled treacherously, and sweat pooled in his palms, ready to explode at any moment, but he was in the school corridor; he couldn't use his Quirk on Deku. He wanted to apologize for everything he had done to him.

— Shut your mouth, Deku, you don't know anything! — His lips trembled and his eyes darted around, unwilling to meet those terrifying emerald eyes that saw right through him.

— I know more than you think. — Izuku tightened his grip even more, and Katsuki clenched his teeth, trying not to reveal the tremor in his hands, but Izuku saw everything, how all Bakugo's expectations crumbled in an instant. He only needed to show him equal audacity.

— You're afraid of losing, afraid of disappointing yourself. You're afraid that all your bravado means nothing. You're afraid that if this mask of invincibility is taken off, you're just a scared kid with a gun, — Izuku hissed. Venom was pleased with his host: finally, after such a long time, he decided to straighten out his life, freeing himself from the crutches that held him back.

— SHUT UP! — Katsuki lunged forward, trying to break free, but Izuku didn't even flinch his hand was stronger than before.

— You hated me, and I hated you. — Katsuki froze, hearing that Deku had felt hatred for him all these years, unaware of how far he had pushed his old friend.

— I fell, but I got back up. And you? You've lived your whole life thinking everything would come to you easily. You're just a spoiled brat with a silver spoon in your mouth. — Katsuki was breathing heavily, his hands trembling with suppressed rage, but more from the realization that every word Deku struck right at the target. Izuku slowly loosened his grip and looked down at him.

— You wanted to talk? Then talk. But don't lie — to me or yourself. — Katsuki was silent. For the first time in his life, he didn't know what to say; he lowered his head and wanted to say something, but the lump in his throat prevented him from doing so, and all he could muster the strength to say was:

— Let me go, idiot. — Izuku casually released him, letting him drop to the floor.

With a crash as he hit the ground, Izuku didn't pay him much attention as he stood up, looking into the distance down the corridor.

— Please, Katsuki, — Izuku said in a normal tone, leaving Bakugo alone in the corridor to wrestle with his doubts and thoughts.

— What have I done? You shouldn't be like this. — Getting up from the floor, Bakugo brushed the dust off himself as Izuku walked away from him, disappearing around the corner.

— You did the right thing, Izuku. Now he'll leave us alone, and if he attacks us... We'll kill him. — The inner predatory nature of Venom didn't please Izuku, but he agreed with his alien friend's assertion.

— Takeshi wouldn't want to see his idol as pathetic. His words will still be in me like a beacon lighting my path. — Izuku entered the classroom, filled with noise and papers flying in different directions from his classmates. Venom urged him harder and harder to show others his strength so they would know he was no longer Quirkless, but just like them, not letting himself be dragged down by the dirt and disapproving looks from passersby.

— Don't be a masochist, Izuku. Stop pretending to be Quirkless. Why do you tolerate all this? — Venom asked uncontrollably while waiting with a lifeless expression for Fuyumi to arrive for the lesson.

— I can't be like them... hypocrites. Even if I show them my Quirk, they'll say I've been pretending to elicit pity from others. — Izuku sat at his desk like a statue, unresponsive to the noise around him. Venom continued to whisper in his head, demanding he show himself, demonstrate that he was no longer weak, that he could make everyone respect him. But Izuku remained silent. He had long known that if you want to change, words are meaningless. Only actions matter.

— First fear, then silence, and finally respect. Don't you deserve that? — The door opened, and Fuyumi walked in. Seeing Izuku, her lips formed a light smile, and the rest of the class, seeing her, stopped their childish antics, sitting down in their seats.

— I understand that, but I'm just like Takeshi. I'm afraid to imagine what my life would be like without my mom, Fuyumi, and Nejire. — Warmly speaking of them, Izuku stood up to greet his teacher, who warmly smiled at the entire class.

— You have no relation to him, so why torment yourself over his death? People die for all kinds of reasons, one more or one less. So why take on the responsibility for the future of Quirkless people? — Venom read Izuku's mind and thoughts, where he had plans to help them but, for some reason, was delaying it.

— I want to give them a decent future. There are few people like me, and it's not like they live in plenty and peace. Takeshi is an example of that. — Venom fell silent, continuing to listen to Izuku.

— If someone were to ask me what prompted me to actively help Quirkless people, I would say it was Takeshi. He wanted to help everyone, but his death and words will not be in vain.

"What am I doing? I can't give up."

Fuyumi smiled gently at the class as she adjusted the books on her desk.

— Good morning, class. I hope you all slept well. Today we will continue our topic... — her voice was warm but confident, preventing the class from descending back into chaos.

Izuku watched her attentively. Her voice — calm, measured — slightly soothed his anger that had been raging in his chest after the conversation with Bakugo. Fuyumi had always seemed to him to be someone capable of maintaining composure in any situation. Perhaps that's why she became a teacher.

Venom was still whispering, "They're not worth your attention, Izuku. You could leave this place and leave them behind," but Izuku ignored him.

— So, let's continue from where we left off. Who can tell me how the ideology of Re-Destro affected the public perception of Quirkless people? — Fuyumi asked, scanning the classroom. Several students looked away, unwilling to answer. It was clear that this topic did not interest them or even irritated them. After all, many of them, like society in general, did not see Quirkless people as equals.

But Izuku raised his hand.

— Yes, Midoriya? — He stood up, his voice sounding confident:

— The influence of Re-Destro's ideology was deeper than it might seem. He not only promoted the superiority of Quirk users, but also supported structural changes that effectively isolated Quirkless people. As a result, many of them found themselves in socially disadvantaged positions, which only exacerbated their vulnerability. — The class froze. Some looked at him with disdain, others with obvious irritation, but Fuyumi nodded. In the eyes of the class, he was Quirkless, and Re-Destro was a hero for many, and the fact that he spoke negatively about him irritated half the class.

— That's right, Midoriya. That's an important observation. Re-Destro didn't just impose his opinion; he created a reality in which Quirkless individuals found themselves on the sidelines of society. — While this was already evident, public opinion could not be erased; it captured the minds of many people. Actively, people began to despise Quirkless individuals, and with each appearance of Re-Destro on screen, people grew to hate Quirkless people even more than before.

— Because society allowed this to happen, — Izuku added as he sat down. Fuyumi looked at him attentively. A flicker of pride showed in her eyes — perhaps because she saw in him more than just a student. She saw in him a person ready to change for others and eager to strive to become a hero, but like any other person, he needed support.

— Correct, — she repeated. — But what will happen if someone tries to change this? — The class froze again at her words, and some threw disapproving looks toward Midoriya.

— They'll be crushed, — someone from the class muttered.

— Or they'll become a symbol of change, — Izuku quietly added, but loud enough for Fuyumi to hear. She smiled at him and continued the lesson.

At that moment, Venom smirked predatorily inside Izuku's mind.

"So, you really intend to go against the system, huh? I wonder how far you'll go." — Izuku didn't respond. Without an answer, it was clear to him that he was ready to heed their call for help for their better future.

— You will gain many enemies, not only among villains but also among heroes. They will aim not only at Silent Phantom but also at Izuku Midoriya, — Venom whispered ominously while Fuyumi led the lesson. Izuku understood the risk he was taking. He would become a target for many, but he wasn't a hero if he didn't try to stand against them.

— I'm ready to take that risk. I see the goal — I don't see the obstacles. — Izuku sat in class, continuing to listen to Fuyumi's lesson. With each new lesson, she revealed herself in new ways to the class. Her first lesson was met with skepticism by the students, but now everyone listened to her, even those who were far from studying. Her lessons were professional, and it was hard to deny her skill, despite her fragile appearance and charming demeanor.

— So, our last lesson for today is over. I ask you to complete all the assignments given to you today by your teachers. Please, do not disappoint me! — With a warm smile, she turned to the class, wiping the board clean. The students in unison said "okay," pleasing the teacher, but one student remained when everyone began to leave the lessons. Nobody paid attention to this until Midoriya sat alone at his desk.

— Izuku-kun, is something wrong? — Fuyumi asked, seeing her student's slightly nervous state as he lowered his head.

— Uh... I guess, but I'd like to ask one question? — Izuku's tone slightly tensed Fuyumi, but it didn't catch her off guard; it only made her even more interested.

— And what is your question? — Fuyumi raised an eyebrow, and Izuku, standing from his chair, looked out the window where students were leaving their classes.

— Tell me, do people deserve a second chance? I mean, if someone has hurt you, would you give them a second chance? — Fuyumi looked at Izuku attentively. Understanding and caution were evident in her eyes. The question he asked was clearly not random. She folded her hands in front of her, contemplating her answer. She had always been against violence but also understood that not all issues could be resolved peacefully. This contradiction forced her to choose who she wanted to be. Her choice fell on being a teacher, thus helping with the mental issues of young people who were about to take a step into adulthood.

— That's a complicated question, Izuku-kun, — she said softly, moving closer. Fuyumi pondered his question, carefully weighing the pros and cons.

— Sometimes, people really do need a second chance. Sometimes… they don't deserve it. — Izuku nodded, but his gaze remained distant. He looked out the window again, watching the students leave school. Among them, he spotted Katsuki. He was walking hunched over, his shoulders tense, and his fists clenched so tightly that the knuckles turned white. Due to the ghosts of the past, Izuku couldn't stop thinking about what he should do. Venom suggested overly radical measures, while he wavered in his choice, and after coming to a conclusion, he decided to turn to Fuyumi, who was his moral compass and support in everything.

— But how can you tell who deserves a chance and who doesn't? — Izuku's voice was low, almost a whisper. Fuyumi smiled, but there was something sad in her smile. Moving closer to him, Fuyumi placed her cold hand on his shoulder with an encouraging smile that shifted to sadness.

— People change, Izuku. But not always in ways we would like. — She sat on the edge of the table, continuing to watch her student. Fuyumi observed Izuku closely, and his body language told her that he was feeling tension from his own question.

— You're talking about this because someone from the past has reappeared in your life, right? — Izuku tensed. Fuyumi was overly perceptive. He lowered his head and clenched his fists. The incident with Katsuki Bakugo still troubled Izuku, and the question of choice was more pressing than ever.

— Katsuki Bakugo… — Fuyumi said, as if reading his thoughts. Izuku didn't respond.

— He caused you a lot of pain, — she continued.

— And now you don't know what to do with it. — Venom continued to whisper to Izuku that this conversation was pointless.

— People don't change, Izuku. The more chances you give them, the more they begin to get bolder. — Venom's whispers continued to persuade Izuku, but the doubts inside him wouldn't let him rest.

— I… — Izuku fell silent, unsure how to explain his inner conflict. Venom inside was indignant, trying to sway Izuku more towards violence than mercy.

"Why are you even thinking about this, Izuku? He deserves nothing but pain. Just like everyone else."

But Izuku couldn't just agree with his point of view.

— I don't want to be like him, — he exhaled, while Fuyumi watched him with interest.

— I don't want to cause pain just because I can. But I doubt, maybe if I forgive someone, it could lead to terrible consequences. — Fuyumi sighed and removed her hand from his shoulder, but her gaze remained attentive and full of compassion for her student.

— Izuku-kun, choice is what defines us as people. Yes, we have power; sometimes we make not the noblest actions, but that makes us human. Believe me, you will make mistakes many times in your choices. — Fuyumi paused before continuing her speech.

— Forgiveness… It doesn't mean forgetting. It doesn't mean you should ignore the pain that was caused to you. And it definitely doesn't mean you are obligated to let these people back into your life. — Izuku listened, but his lips were tightly pressed together. Venom inside scoffed but didn't interrupt — for now, while she was speaking.

— There are no clear answers in life, Izuku. In my opinion, life is a compilation of choices throughout your life. Your choice will determine the direction of your life. — Izuku took a deep breath, trying to absorb Fuyumi's words. They sounded right, logical, but his heart still tightened with anxiety. Venom inside continued to whisper:

"She just wants you to stay weak. She says beautiful words, but in the end, you'll have to decide for yourself. And if you make a mistake… you'll be back at the bottom again."

— But how can I know if my choice is the right one? — Izuku quietly asked, clenching his fists.

— If I make a mistake… if I forgive someone and they use it against me… then what? — Fuyumi looked at him thoughtfully, crossing her arms over her chest. Students often have questions they cannot answer themselves, and it's the duty of parents and teachers to help resolve such questions, and for that, Fuyumi dedicated her time to help them.

— You will never know for sure, — she finally replied.

— Life doesn't offer guarantees, Izuku. Sometimes, even the kindest actions can lead to bad consequences. — He suddenly raised his head, his gaze filled with doubt and disappointment in himself.

— Then what's the point?! If being kind means risking betrayal… If forgiving means risking being hurt again… why even try?! — Fuyumi looked at him with sadness, but there was something else in her eyes — warm understanding. Fuyumi had never liked violence, especially how much of it there was, but she also understood that without violence, the human race would likely not exist. Coming to terms with this, many, including her, concluded that sometimes violence is the best choice in certain situations.

— Because otherwise, you will allow that pain to define you, — she replied.

— And then you'll become what you hate. — These words hit Izuku harder than he expected. He clenched his teeth, trying to suppress the bitterness rising inside. Izuku had to kill, but two of them were to save himself from the villains, and the third was in a fit of rage and to save himself from death.

— But I don't want to forgive, — he whispered.

— I want him to understand… I want him to feel everything that I felt. — Over many years, Bakugo had bullied Izuku countless times, and all that time he had accumulated until he finally decided to hit back.

— You want justice? Or revenge? — Fuyumi asked gently. Venom immediately picked up her words, urging Izuku towards even greater violence.

"She just doesn't understand! This isn't revenge, it's restoring justice! You don't want to be cruel — you just don't want this to happen again!"

— I… don't know. — Izuku averted his gaze, looking out the window, to which Fuyumi smiled softly, but her voice became firmer:

— Then you should find the answer before you make a decision. Because if you choose revenge, Izuku… you won't be able to turn back. — He fell silent, pondering her words.

"You know what to do. Don't listen to her. She doesn't know what you've been through."

Fuyumi watched him closely.

— I'm not saying you should forgive him, — she said.

— I'm saying you need to understand what you truly want. And what you're willing to lose for it. — Izuku felt his breathing grow heavier. The choice lay before him, and now he understood that this choice wouldn't be easy. She understood her student's disappointment, and in order to support him, she moved closer, wrapping him in her warm embrace.

Izuku froze. Fuyumi's warm embrace made him momentarily forget everything — the anger, the pain, the voice of Venom whispering to him that this was weakness. Succumbing to the warmth, Izuku hugged her back, surrendering to her support.

— You are not alone, Izuku, — she said softly. He gritted his teeth, feeling something tighten inside. His head throbbed with thoughts, emotions blended into chaos. He clenched his fists, trying not to let his feelings take over.

"This is wrong... Why believe in this now?" — Venom whispered. But Izuku didn't respond. Fuyumi slightly pulled back, placing her hands on his shoulders, and looked into his eyes.

— Sometimes it's easier to hate than to forgive, — she said. — It's easier to walk the path of darkness than to fight for something bright. But you don't want to become like them, right? — Izuku swallowed, understanding the meaning of her words.

— No… — he whispered, but his voice trembled. Fuyumi nodded, smiling warmly, but there was seriousness in her eyes.

— Then don't rush your decision. Don't let your anger cloud your judgment. You are strong, Izuku. But true strength isn't just about fighting; it's about knowing when to stop. — He nodded, but inside, the storm still raged, which he tried to tame.

— I… will try, — he finally exhaled. Fuyumi gently squeezed his shoulder, letting him know she was there. Her cold palm soothed him, and he surrendered to the warmth of her words.

— Good. And if you ever feel like you're losing yourself… know that you can always come to me for help. — Izuku silently nodded, finding no words. But even with her support, he knew — the choice still lay with him, a choice he had to make for himself without her help.

— Fuyumi-san, I also wanted to ask how communication with the class is going. I hope they don't reject your support? — With a warm tone, Izuku, Fuyumi smiled encouragingly, recalling how warmly the students spoke with her.

— Everything is just wonderful, Izuku. They are all good people. You see, their energy needs to be directed in the right way. — Izuku relaxed at Fuyumi's warm tone, which she sincerely smiled at him. She not only cared about him but also about half the class, which did not particularly accept him as a member of society.

— That's… good, — he said quietly, looking away.

— Sometimes it's hard to believe that people can really be kind, given our not-so-quiet times. — Fuyumi gently shook her head, pointing out to Izuku his overly pessimistic view.

— You're too gloomy, Izuku; don't do that. You've gotten too used to the bad; you need to enjoy life. — Izuku watched her as she spoke, and her life energy was so warm and familiar to him that he couldn't remember where he had seen such a warm and caring aura before.

— For example? — Izuku asked with a funny face, raising an eyebrow, to which Fuyumi chuckled.

— Well, everyone should have something they love to do; that's called a hobby, Izuku. If you take me, I really love to dance. — Izuku was surprised by her passion because she had never mentioned her hobbies to him before, and he mentally noted her personality.

— If you don't mind, I can teach you so that you can impress Nejire on a romantic evening. — At the mention of Nejire, Izuku felt a slight sting in his heart, and a blush faintly illuminated his face. He lowered his gaze, feeling his heart beat faster than before.

— R... romantic evening? — Izuku mumbled, averting his gaze from her, making this moment more endearing for Fuyumi.

— Of course, Izuku. Do you think girls don't appreciate that? You will definitely meet her, Izuku, and I'm sure she will be thrilled to learn that you can support a romantic evening. — At Fuyumi's words, Izuku awkwardly smiled, trying to maintain his composure while the blush on his cheeks revealed his feelings, clearly showing her that he had feelings for his friend.

— H... okay, I'll take a few lessons from you later, Fuyumi-san, but now I have to go home. — Izuku mumbled as he headed for the classroom exit.

— I won't keep you; you can go, Izuku. — Fuyumi waved goodbye to him, accompanying him, and with warm feelings, Izuku temporarily forgot about the incident with Katsuki as he headed home for training and a new mission that would involve him, Dabi, and Burnin, of which Dabi still didn't know.

Bakugo waited for Izuku after school. Despite his contemptuous attitude, he watched as Deku walked away from the school building. He saw how his mother mourned for Inko, who had long been gone. He would have continued bullying Deku if not for his changes. He would never hit someone without reason. Although Deku was a nerd, he wasn't weak at all.

With his hood up, Katsuki followed Izuku to his house until he unexpectedly stopped.

"I know you're following me, Bakugo," Izuku turned his head towards him, meeting his shocked red eyes.

"Can you explain why the hell you're acting like an idiot?" Taking off his hood, Bakugo glared at Izuku. The latter silently stared at Bakugo for several seconds before turning around and heading home. Sunlight illuminated his face until he heard Bakugo's quick footsteps behind him and felt his hand forcefully grip his shoulder.

"Don't dare ignore me, Deku!" Understanding that he couldn't avoid the conversation, Izuku grabbed Bakugo's hand and tripped him, throwing him to the ground. Caught off guard, Bakugo became furious and used his explosion, but Izuku easily dodged and hit him twice in the face.

"Is that all you came for, Bakugo? To figure out how your quirk works?" Izuku tried to stay calm, but Bakugo's movements and growling forced him to focus on the fight.

"I'm sorry," was all Bakugo could say, lowering his hands, but this didn't surprise Izuku—it made him angrier.

"After so many..." Izuku whispered, but Bakugo didn't hear.

"What did you say?" Bakugo asked irritably, clenching his fist.

"After so many years of abuse, you have the audacity to say this to my face? When I finally decided to stand up for myself?" Izuku breathed heavily, clenching his fists. The wind tousled his hair, and in his eyes raged anger accumulated over years of humiliation, pain, and loneliness.

"I hate you. I've always hated you. When you got resistance, you decided to change right away, huh?" Izuku said painfully, remembering every scar on his body left by him over all these years. Shocked by his words, Bakugo gritted his teeth, burning him with his gaze, but he was frightened when Izuku rolled up his shirt sleeve.

"Look, Bakugo, these scars are your handiwork. Tell me, after all this, after you wished me dead, told me to jump off the roof, insulted not only me but my mother too, you dare ask for forgiveness?" Izuku asked, breathing heavily from the emotions flooding over him. Bakugo lowered his head, unwilling to look in his direction out of shame.

"Tell me, Bakugo, if I hadn't fought back then, or if I had a quirk, would you have treated me the same way?" Bakugo remained silent, for the first time losing his anger, which was replaced by shame poisoning his hot-tempered nature.

"I don't know," he forced out. Seeing his former friend in such a state, the compassionate part of Izuku wanted to forgive him, but this wasn't a case where he could tolerate such treatment.

"It's too late, Bakugo. Everything's too late. If that's all you wanted to say, then get out of my sight and stay away," Bakugo still remained silent, unable to respond. He was guilty of all Izuku's misfortunes, and now justice was on his side. Ashamed, Bakugo could no longer bear the caustic truth from Deku.

"Enough, I know I'm guilty. I'm not asking you to forgive me. I want you to understand: I'm not a hero if I don't change for the better," Izuku smirked, but it wasn't his former warm smile. There was no joy or warmth in it—only contempt.

"You're a hero, Bakugo?" He slowly stepped toward him, and Katsuki felt his own legs tremble.

"Who would have thought. People like you have no place among heroes," he tilted his head, studying Katsuki as if seeing him for the first time.

"And how long did it take you to realize this? One day? Maybe two?" Izuku snorted mockingly at his words and pathetic attempts to evoke pity.

"What about all those years when you screamed in my face that I was worthless? When you thought you had the right to decide who deserves to dream and who doesn't?" Bakugo gritted his teeth but remained silent, listening to all the grievances Izuku had been harboring all this time.

"And now, when your fists no longer work, you suddenly realized you were wrong?" Izuku shook his head, his eyes flashing with cold anger. He leaned closer, his voice becoming quiet, almost a whisper:

"Do you know what makes a hero a hero, Bakugo?" Katsuki raised his eyes to him, mixing anger, pain, and incomprehension in his gaze.

"No, not strength," Izuku smiled crookedly. Bakugo tensed, expecting a blow, but what Izuku delivered was worse than any punch.

"A true hero is someone who doesn't turn people into monsters," he straightened up and turned away, leaving him alone on the street.

"And you, Bakugo, have always been a disgusting scoundrel. Only now, when someone said it to your face, you suddenly wanted to change?" He smirked again, bitterly and coldly.

"Too bad I don't care anymore," Izuku turned and walked away, leaving Bakugo standing there, hunched under the weight of his own shame. Having heard everything, Bakugo was angry at himself and, unable to say anything to Izuku in response, simply left.

"You made the right decision, Izuku. You can't tolerate such treatment—it's either him or you," grinning, Venom was pleased with his host's action and for the first time was proud of his determination to speak out.

"He deserved it," Izuku briefly replied, finally entering the house. After working out slightly on the exercise equipment, he waited for evening to come.

"I think we've already learned boxing. Now we need to master other martial arts," flipping through notebooks, Izuku wrote down all the most effective strikes for fighting, and after finishing, started a new page, now with taekwondo.

"This is interesting," sticking his head out of the body, Venom used his tentacles to click the computer mouse, searching for suitable materials for upcoming training.

The hours flew by one after another until it got dark outside. Smiling at this, Izuku put on his jacket and jeans, waiting for Dabi's call.

"Brrrrrr," the phone rang, attracting Izuku's attention.

"Are you ready?" Without greeting him, Dabi got straight to the point.

"I'm ready."

To be continued.