Tomura/Tenko

The alley reeked of stale ramen and desperation. It was a familiar scent, one that clung to the shadowed corners of Musutafu, a scent I, Tenko Shimura, knew intimately. My knuckles cracked as I tightened my grip on the crumbling brick wall, the familiar tremor of my quirk, Decay, humming beneath my skin. Beside me, Touya, or as the city knew him, Inferno, shifted impatiently, the air around him shimmering with nascent flames.

"They're late," he muttered, his voice a low growl. The flickering neon sign above us cast harsh shadows on his scarred face, making him look even more menacing than usual.

"Hawks is meticulous, not late," I countered, though a knot of anxiety tightened in my stomach. We were vigilantes, shadows dancing on the periphery of hero society, working in the gray areas the brightly colored heroes couldn't or wouldn't touch. Hawks, the winged hero, was our reluctant point of contact, a bridge between our world and the one of official sanctioned heroism. He used us, and we, in turn, used him. A messy, mutually beneficial arrangement.

Touya scoffed, a plume of smoke curling from his lips. "Meticulous and trusting. He always seems surprised we haven't gone completely off the rails."

I winced. That was Touya's specialty – pushing buttons, testing boundaries, reminding everyone of the darkness that simmered beneath the surface of society. He was a walking, talking embodiment of the rejection we both had endured, a constant reminder of the unfairness we fought against.

A whoosh of air announced Hawks' arrival. He landed gracefully on a nearby dumpster, his red wings folding neatly behind him. His golden eyes scanned the alley, taking in our tense figures and the grim surroundings.

"Sorry I'm late," he said, his voice surprisingly casual. "Had to deal with a particularly persistent fan." He flashed a practiced smile. "Alright, let's get down to business. There's been a spike in Nomu activity in district eight. Low-level stuff, but enough to be a problem."

Nomu. The grotesque, mindless creatures created by All For One were a constant threat, a dark stain on the hero society we supposedly protected. They were the reason we existed, the reason we embraced the shadows.

"Any leads?" Touya asked, his voice sharper now, the boredom replaced with a focused intensity.

Hawks nodded. "Rumor has it, a new player is moving in. Calling himself 'The Puppeteer'. He's been seen controlling the Nomu, using them for petty crimes, mostly. We need to find him, shut him down, before he becomes a bigger problem."

He handed us a file containing grainy photos and sparse information. "Stick to the rooftops, stay out of sight. And for God's sake, try not to burn down the city, Inferno."

Touya just smirked. "No promises."

Hawks sighed, shaking his head. "Just... try to be heroes, even if it's only in the dark." With a final flap of his wings, he was gone, leaving us alone again in the grimy alley.

I stared at the file, the images of the Nomu stirring a familiar anger within me. These creatures were the product of unchecked power, a symbol of the corruption we were fighting against.

"Let's go," I said, my voice low and determined. "Time to clean up the streets."

We patrolled the rooftops for hours, the city lights blurring beneath us. The night air was cold, biting at our exposed skin, but neither of us complained. This was our life, our purpose. We were the shadows, the protectors, the unacknowledged heroes of Musutafu.

Finally, we found them. A group of Nomu, shambling through the streets, smashing cars and terrorizing civilians. A figure stood in the center of the chaos, his hands outstretched, a faint blue glow emanating from his fingertips. The Puppeteer.

Touya didn't hesitate. He launched himself from the rooftop, a torrent of blue flames erupting from his body. He moved with a ferocity that bordered on recklessness, his scarred face twisted into a mask of rage.

"You're finished!" he roared, blasting a Nomu into oblivion with a wave of his hand.

I landed beside him, my own power surging within me. I focused my gaze on a nearby building, the brick facade crumbling into dust at my touch. "Focus on the Puppeteer, Inferno. I'll take care of the Nomu."

The battle was chaotic, brutal. Touya danced through the streets, a whirlwind of fire and destruction, while I systematically dismantled the Nomu, using my Decay to reduce them to dust. The Puppeteer, a skinny man with greasy hair and hollow eyes, struggled to maintain control, his blue glow flickering erratically.

As I moved closer, I saw the fear in his eyes, the desperation to escape. He was just a pawn, a small cog in a much larger machine. But that didn't excuse his actions. He was contributing to the chaos, perpetuating the cycle of violence.

I reached out, my hand trembling with barely contained power. "It's over," I said, my voice barely a whisper.

Suddenly, a figure dropped from the sky, landing between us with a resounding thud. It was Hawks, his wings outstretched, his face grim.

"Stand down, Destructo," he said, his voice hard. "This man is under arrest."

I stared at him, disbelief washing over me. "Arrest? He's controlling Nomu! He's a danger to the city!"

"He's also cooperating," Hawks said, his eyes fixed on mine. "He has information we need. Information about the Nomu, about their creators, about All For One."

Touya snarled, his flames flaring brighter. "So what? We just let him go? Let him walk free after what he's done?"

"He's not walking free," Hawks replied, his voice carefully controlled. "He's going into custody. He'll be interrogated. Justice will be served."

But I knew it wouldn't. Not really. He would be processed, questioned, and eventually, he would disappear into the system, lost in the bureaucratic maze of hero society. He wouldn't face the consequences he deserved.

The anger surged within me, threatening to erupt. This was the problem with the hero system, the reason we operated in the shadows. They were too concerned with rules, with regulations, with appearances. They were blind to the true darkness that lurked beneath the surface.

"You're making a mistake," I said, my voice shaking with suppressed rage.

Hawks sighed, his expression softening slightly. "I know you don't agree with this, Destructo. But trust me, this is the best way."

I looked at Touya, his face a mask of fury, his flames licking at the air. I knew what he was thinking. He was thinking of our past, of the rejection, of the unfairness. He was thinking of the times we had been ignored, dismissed, treated like outcasts.

He was thinking that sometimes, justice had to be taken, not given.

And in that moment, I knew he was right.

I lowered my hand, the tremor of Decay receding slightly. "Fine," I said, my voice flat. "Take him. But don't be surprised when he disappears."

Hawks frowned, his eyes narrowed. He knew what I meant. He knew that we wouldn't let this go.

As he led the Puppeteer away, I turned to Touya, my gaze hardening. "We're not finished," I said. "We have a message to send."

Touya grinned, a flash of manic energy in his eyes. "Let's burn it all down."

We retreated into the shadows, leaving the chaos behind us. We were the shadows, the vigilantes, the unacknowledged heroes. And we were just getting started. The hero society might think they could control us, that they could use us for their own purposes. But they were wrong. We were done playing by their rules.

We were going to show them what true justice looked like, even if it meant burning the whole world down in the process. And as Destructo and Inferno, we were more than ready to watch it ignite.