Izuku raised his hands slightly in mock surrender… then blurred. In the space of a heartbeat, he was behind her, one hand twisting her arms behind her back with a grip that was firm but not cruel.
"You almost got away with it," he murmured near her ear, his voice low and edged with steel. "But lucky for me… I have great hearing. Unlucky for you… I don't miss things like this."
For a split second, she was still—then the mask's left eye flared unnaturally.
Before he could react, a shadowy mass shot out from it like liquid smoke, smashing into the wall-mounted console. The enter key lit up with a sinister click.
A message blipped across the hidden network, bouncing to unseen terminals all over Mustafa: "Begin."
Every sleeper agent, every modified vagrant… had just been activated.
The girl's body—now freed from possession—slumped forward, unconscious.
Izuku's jaw tightened. "Tch. That's annoying."
He glanced at the squirming black parasite that had been controlling her. Without hesitation, he grabbed a heavy-duty duffel bag from the corner, shoved the writhing thing inside, and cinched it tight with a cable from the lab's shelves.
With a powerful leap, he shot straight up through the hole in the ceiling, smashing past the bar floor and into the main room.
Mt. Lady was there, phone pressed to her ear, already calling in every contact she had. She turned as he landed beside her.
"It's begun already," she said, her voice tight with urgency.
Izuku tossed her the bag. "Here—this is the control unit. Keep it safe. I'll deal with the rest."
Before she could even get a word out, he rocketed into the night sky, a sonic crack echoing in his wake.
---
From above, the city was chaos. Sirens wailed, and thin plumes of smoke rose from several districts. His enhanced hearing picked out dozens of locations at once—footsteps pounding on empty streets, shouts, the crunch of concrete under unnatural strength.
He didn't hesitate.
From 00:24, he became a storm—appearing and vanishing in blurs of motion.
One moment he was tearing a metal compactor-armed thug from the side of a bus.
The next, he was ripping a chip from the neck of a snarling, hormone-fueled man before the rage could consume him.
Each takedown was fast, decisive, and without mercy for the parasite's influence.
By 01:24, it was over.
Izuku hovered high above Mustafa, breathing steadily. Below, the city was still alive with blue-and-red lights, emergency crews swarming every corner. The air reeked faintly of smoke and adrenaline.
A smile tugged at his lips beneath the mask.
' I love saving people.'
With that thought, he angled downward, streaking back toward Mt. Lady's position.
Kuin and her hired men were cuffed and led away, the click of metal restraints echoing in the cool night air. Paramedics moved quickly, loading the homeless victims into ambulances, their bodies still twitching slightly from the chip's aftereffects. The red and blue lights strobed across the cracked pavement, casting sharp shadows that made the whole scene feel like a crime drama frozen in motion.
Izuku stood slightly apart from the chaos, watching as the last ambulance doors shut. His mind, however, was already elsewhere.
I should talk to the mayor about opening a real homeless shelter… somewhere they can recover, learn, and start over. Nobody deserves to live like this. Not in the world I want to create.
The thought settled in his chest like a vow.
Mt. Lady jogged up, strands of hair falling out of her ponytail, her cheeks flushed from the night's adrenaline. "Wow," she breathed, still catching her breath. "We cracked the case way earlier than I thought! Well… you kinda did everything."
Izuku's lips quirked into a small smile. "Yeah, but this wouldn't have happened if you hadn't caught that guy before. So I'd argue you did about 50% of the work."
She blinked, then smiled back at him—softly, almost shyly—her eyes shining in the dim alley lights. "I guess this is our first and last stakeout, huh?"
"Oh no," he said, leaning slightly toward her. "We can still hang out. Not exactly daily, but here and there. Of course, only if you want."
Her answer wasn't verbal—she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him, holding on for just a little longer than necessary. "I do," she murmured into his chest.
"Cool then," he replied, patting her back lightly. "I should probably get going now. I need to be up in the morning."
The crowd of onlookers and officers began to shift, a wave of murmurs passing through them.
All Might stepped into view, his imposing frame filling the narrow alleyway, the flashing police lights painting him in alternating shades of crimson and blue. His eyes locked on Izuku, who—now stripped of most of his outer gear after the fight still had the modulator mask covering his face.
"You did a great job here," All Might said, his deep voice carrying authority and a note of genuine gratitude. "We, as heroes, owe you a huge Thank You"
Izuku tapped the side of his mask, the voice modulator giving his reply a calm, distorted tone. "Thanks… I'm just glad nobody got hurt."
All Might's gaze flicked over him, taking in his altered look. A small smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Also… I like the new style. Not sure if the public will, though."
Izuku tilted his head slightly, glancing down at himself. Half of his original outfit had been shredded in the firefight, and without the full suit, he probably looked more like a vigilante than a hero. "Oh, uh… thanks, I guess. I should get going though."
He bent his knees, ready to launch into the air—
"Wait."
The single word froze him mid-motion.
All Might stepped forward, the playful tone gone, his expression sharp with conviction. "Become a hero. A pro hero. We could really use someone like you on our side."
For a brief moment, the world seemed quieter. The sirens felt farther away, the city's hum muted beneath the weight of the offer. The night wind tugged at his hair, cool against the sweat still clinging to his skin.
Under the mask, Izuku smiled faintly. "Maybe in a few years," he said.
And then—BOOM!—he shot skyward, a black streak vanishing into the night clouds, leaving only the crack of displaced air behind.
All Might watched him disappear, his cape swaying in the wind. After a long moment, he exhaled through his nose. "…In a few years, huh?" he muttered, almost to himself.
...
Izuku slipped in through his bedroom balcony just past midnight, the night air still clinging to his skin. He stripped down—only his pants hitting the floor—before padding toward the bathroom. The mirror caught a quick reflection of his face: damp hair from the mist outside, faint shadows under his eyes from the constant mental strain.
The shower hissed to life, steam curling up around him as the water pounded against his shoulders. He rolled his neck slowly, letting the heat soak into him, his mind running back through the night—Queen Bee's plans, the flashing lights, All Might's offer.
When he was done, he towel-dried his hair lazily, stepping back into his room with a heavy exhale. The sheets were cool against his skin as he sprawled onto the bed, one arm draped over his eyes.
"I can't even get tired," he muttered into the pillow, "but somehow… I still feel tired."
He knew tomorrow—no, later today—he'd go see Mitsuki, check in on the progress with his work. He couldn't help the small smile tugging at his lips at the thought.
' I want to see how far she's gotten… I can't wait.'
His mind began to quiet, the usual stream of plans and contingencies fading into background noise.
That's when he heard it.
Soft at first—barely noticeable over the hum of his thoughts—but then undeniable. A muffled, rhythmic sound from down the hall. A low gasp. A sharper moan.
His brow twitched, and he let out a slow, resigned sigh. Seriously? Right now?
' I understand that she's about to hit menopause or whatever but damn!' He thought.
He reached over, grabbed his sleep headphones from the nightstand, and slipped them on. With the faint hum of white noise replacing the sounds from his mother's room, he closed his eyes.
Sleep came quickly this time—quieter, heavier than usual.
TO BE CONTINUED