The room was damp and poorly lit, with old fluorescent lights flickering with a tired, low hum. The concrete walls were stained by time and use, as if the entire place exhaled decay. In the center, an old but functional metal hospital bed supported Shigaraki, lying still and breathing unevenly through an oxygen mask strapped to his face. His chest rose and fell with difficulty, the muffled sound of the machines filling the space.
Kurogiri stood beside him, rigid and silent like a shadow. A bit behind him, Dr. Garaki slowly flipped through a clipboard filled with test results. His eyes moved quickly, but his expression was pure fascination.
"I've never seen anything like this before…" he muttered, frowning. "Kurogiri… are you absolutely sure Tomura was only punched? Just one punch?"
Kurogiri didn't respond immediately. The sound of Shigaraki's forced breathing seemed to fill every corner of the room.
Garaki continued, tapping the clipboard lightly with his finger:
"Whatever hit him… it damaged a good portion of the internal organs on the right side of his torso. And it destroyed almost the entire respiratory system in that area."
The television mounted high on the wall displayed the static, distorted, but still recognizable image of All For One.
His deep voice echoed through the ruined room:
"So, Garaki… is there anything we can do?"
Garaki removed his glasses, cleaning the lenses with his lab coat before putting them back on with exaggerated calm.
"Fix it, fix it…" he grumbled. "I can repair most of the physical damage. It'll take time, but it's possible. The real problem… isn't those injuries."
He paused—long, deliberate—and Kurogiri felt his core tremble.
"Tomura has developed cancer."
The silence that followed seemed to cut the air.
Kurogiri leaned forward, disbelief in his voice:
"That can't be correct… It must be an error in the analysis, a malfunction in the equipment—"
"No," Garaki interrupted firmly. "I checked three times. It's real. Even I was surprised. An accelerated cellular formation exactly in the same region as the impact."
He looked at Shigaraki's frail body, almost in fascination.
"A quirk capable of causing something like this with a single strike… ahh, I must admit I'm extremely curious to study it."
From the monitor, All For One let out a low, dangerous chuckle.
"A power like that… so that's the same boy who destroyed the Sentinel?"
Kurogiri bowed respectfully:
"Yes. It was him, sir."
All For One smiled, and even through the screen it seemed to chill the air around them.
"Impressive… Truly impressive."
His voice dropped, lower and more serious:
"From this moment on, Kurogiri… gather every piece of information possible about the boy. Every detail. Every record. Every relative. Every person he has ever touched."
A threatening gleam passed across the visor.
"I want to learn more about this… Rito Takeda."
----------------------------------------
The U.A. stayed closed for five whole days after the USJ incident. When it finally reopened the following week, the campus was quiet — but not in a comfortable way. It was the silence of people still trying to digest what they had lived through.
Ryo walked alone down the hallway, hands in his pockets, shoulders slightly hunched.
"The three days after the hospital were hell…" he muttered to himself, annoyed.
And they really had been.
Before, it was just one or two government agents discreetly following his steps, watching his apartment from a distance. Now? He had already counted twenty-three just on his street. And he was absolutely certain that the "neighbor" who'd moved into the apartment next door yesterday was another one in disguise.
"This is starting to get creepy…" he grumbled.
He reached the door of Class 1-A and stopped. He looked at it for long seconds. His hand lifted, hesitant, but froze halfway. The uncomfortable feeling of not knowing what to expect weighed on his chest.
But then, his mind recalled Thirteen's words:
"Follow your instinct."
Ryo closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and pushed the door—
Or tried to.
It opened before his fingers even touched it, revealing Kirishima on the other side, who froze for a second.
"Whoa! Takeda!?" the redhead practically shouted.
And before Ryo could process, Kirishima turned around:
"Guys! Takeda's here!"
The whole room exploded.
In seconds, everyone surrounded him — questions, voices, worried expressions, genuine joy.
"Are you okay?!"
"You didn't get hurt, right?"
"That was amazing, dude!"
"Man, I missed you!" said Kirishima, placing a firm hand on his shoulder.
Ryo looked at the tight circle around him, frowning. He wanted to tell everyone to get out of his way. To shut up. To let him breathe.
But…
He didn't.
He swallowed hard and, with an almost physical effort, murmured:
"I… I'm fine. Thanks for… worrying."
A stunned silence followed.
Kaminari blinked, brow furrowed.
"Did I hear that right?"
"You did," Jiro replied, just as surprised.
Tsuyu tilted her head.
"It's the first time I've seen you thank us. Or talk to us without being forced to, ribbit."
Ryo flushed in immediate irritation.
"I'm trying here! Do you want me to go back to staying quiet!?"
Laughter spread across the room.
Ryo's eyes widened, offended and embarrassed at the same time.
"Stop! Why are you laughing?! Stop!"
Sitting in the back, Midoriya watched the scene with a small smile. He lowered his gaze to his own hand, remembering what Ryo had told him at the USJ.
"What's the difference between the two, Midoriya!?"
Midoriya curled his fingers slowly.
"Am I… really fit to make decisions?"
In the middle of the crowd, Dash rushed in, face lighting up. He ran toward Ryo as if he'd found a lost treasure.
"Bro! You're alive! I was so worried!"
Ryo shoved his palm into the blond's face, pushing him away without ceremony.
"Not in the mood for hugs, don't get excited," Ryo said in curt English.
"Oh… right, right," Dash said, rubbing his nose and smiling awkwardly, still glowing.
The commotion was interrupted when Iida raised his arm in an exaggerated, authoritative gesture:
"EVERYONE! Morning classes are about to begin! Please take your seats!"
A moment later, Aizawa entered dragging his feet. Bandages covered most of his body — he looked like a mummy locked away for centuries.
"Good morning…"
"AIZAWA-SENSEI!? YOU'RE BACK!?" half the class shouted.
"Even all injured, he still came to teach us. What a manly hero!" Kirishima cheered.
Aizawa walked to his desk as if he were carrying an extra hundred kilos. Iida leaned forward politely.
"We're glad to see you're doing better, sensei!"
"That's 'better'…?" Uraraka whispered.
The teacher lifted his tired gaze.
"My condition doesn't matter right now. I hope you all rested properly after the incident, but your battle isn't over yet."
Tension rose instantly in the room.
Midoriya paled.
"H-How so?"
"Battle?" Bakugo growled.
Dash nudged Ryo.
"Hey, what's going on? Everyone's nervous."
"No idea," Ryo replied, just as confused.
Then Aizawa finished:
"The U.A. Sports Festival is coming!"
----------------------------------------
The conference room was too quiet.
The white lights — cold, constant — failed to dispel the heavy feeling hanging over the people gathered there. Nezu, seated at the head of the table, kept his hands folded with impeccable composure; Power Loader, Snipe, Midnight, Vlad King, and All Might were arranged around him, each carrying the accumulated exhaustion of the past few days in their expressions. It was Naomasa who broke the silence.
"Regarding the attack at the USJ..." he began, adjusting his papers. "This is the information we've been able to gather so far."
He projected some photos and files onto the monitor in the background. The blurry, enlarged image of Shigaraki appeared.
"The individual known as Shigaraki Tomura possesses a touch disintegration quirk. Everything he touches with all five fingers rapidly falls apart. We are currently scouring the registry bank for men between twenty and thirty years old, looking for similar abilities, but..." he let out a frustrated sigh. "nothing so far."
Snipe crossed his arms.
"So we have practically nothing on him... great." The voice, muffled by his mask, still sounded irritated. "We know he'll cause trouble again once he recovers. We should either search deeper or aim to deal with the leader of this group all at once."
All Might murmured softly:
"Leader..."
Nezu turned, attentive.
"Something to add, All Might?"
Toshinori remained silent for a few seconds, choosing his words. When he spoke, it sounded like he was walking through uncomfortable memories.
"Shigaraki does not have the presence of a leader. In the attack..." he frowned, "he alternated between disjointed ideological speeches and childish temper tantrums. He didn't say anything about his own quirk, but he exalted the Nomu... and that robot, the so-called Omnidroid." He looked at his amputated arm, the emptiness throbbing like a reminder. "But when something didn't go his way... he simply threw a fit. Honestly, it's more plausible to consider that the person who supplied these 'toys' is the real leader. Shigaraki seems like just... a pawn."
He hesitated before continuing, his voice carrying something no one there expected to hear from All Might:
"For some reason, while interacting with him... I had the feeling of standing before a child."
The room fell silent.
Vlad King was the first to break the tension:
"A child with too much power." His massive arms were crossed over his chest. "I still don't understand how he got access to that thing. The other countries faced the same crisis with the Omnidroids, but here it was different. Here, we had the robot and villains together."
Midnight rested her chin on the palm of her hand.
"Does that mean the person responsible for making these robots could be the leader of this group...?"
Nezu tilted his head slightly, his tail slowly swaying.
"Or, perhaps, the creator is a distinct entity that merely allied itself with the true culprit." His voice dropped lower. "There are too many loose pieces on this board."
The atmosphere became heavy, almost suffocating, until Naomasa cleared his throat.
"Well... I'll have to take my leave for now." He bowed respectfully. "I appreciate the heroes' trust in allowing us to conduct the investigation. The police will expand the search and dedicate all efforts to capturing those involved."
He bowed and left the room.
One by one, the teachers also withdrew — Midnight speaking quietly with Vlad King, Snipe complaining about the lack of data, Ectoplasm following behind them. Until the room was empty, save for All Might and Nezu.
All Might adjusted his suit jacket and broke the silence:
"Right... what did you want to discuss with me alone, Director?"
The principal rested his small hands on the tabletop, his polite smile giving way to a serious expression.
"I shouldn't be bringing this up so soon... But it's about Rito Takeda."
All Might immediately raised his face, his breath catching.
"Or rather... Ryo Tanaka."
----------------------------------------
The fourth period finally came to an end, and as soon as the bell rang, the entire classroom burst into a wave of lively chatter. Lunch break had never felt so anticipated — and the main topic, of course, was the Sports Festival.
Kirishima was the first to stand, punching the air with a grin that almost seemed to shine.
"Man, my blood is boiling!" he said, practically vibrating. "I'm so pumped I feel like I'm gonna explode!"
Tokoyami, always serious and enigmatic, tilted his head with almost solemn poise.
"The Festival is a stage… an opportunity to show the world what we can do. A decisive step on the path to becoming a pro hero."
Sato, leaning against the desk beside him, crossed his arms and added:
"So we'd better make the most of it."
Ryo passed by them without much urgency, making Kirishima turn to him:
"Hey, Takeda! Heading to the cafeteria already?"
The boy shook his head.
"No. Cementoss said the principal wants to talk to me."
Kirishima widened his eyes, though he kept smiling.
"For real? Then go for it, man! Good luck."
Ryo simply nodded and left the room. The hallway was relatively empty at that hour, lit by the soft light pouring through the wide windows. Passing by a few newly hung Festival posters, he walked until he reached the principal's office door.
He knocked lightly, heard permission to enter, and slid the door open.
The office was organized as always, gentle sunlight filtering through the tall windows. Nezu sat in his cushioned chair, tiny paws folded over the desk, a serene smile resting on his white muzzle.
"Ah, Tanaka-kun!" he said, lifting his ears. "Come in, my boy. How have you been feeling? Were you able to rest these past few days?"
Ryo approached, one hand in his pocket, his expression neutral and tired.
"I'm fine… I think." He averted his eyes. "You wanted to talk to me?"
"Yes." Nezu pulled a folder from the table, carefully straightening the papers. "I called you here to offer my sincere apologies."
Ryo frowned.
Nezu continued, his voice calm yet filled with gravity:
"You are my responsibility, Tanaka-kun. I brought you into this school believing I could offer you safety, stability, and the means for you to grow… and yet, during the invasion, you were gravely injured." He tilted his head slightly. "All Might told me what he saw. The state you were found in… and the condition you were left in. Even though you somehow managed to heal yourself thanks to your quirk, that should never have happened under my supervision."
Ryo scratched the side of his head, looking away as if the memory was too foggy to grasp.
"I… I don't even remember the last moments clearly. I remember fighting the Nomu. The rest is a blur." His frown deepened. "Thirteen told me I defeated the Sentinel too, but I… I don't remember that."
The principal gave him a small, understanding smile.
"The human mind is full of nuances. Momentary lapses are natural in moments of extreme stress. There's no need to blame yourself." He set the folder down and rested his paws on the desk. "And yes… it was you, Ryo. Without your intervention, neutralizing both the Nomu and the Sentinel would not have been possible. The whole school acknowledges that, even if you don't remember."
Ryo lowered his gaze. Despite the words, he didn't feel flattered.
Nezu, noticing, softened his tone even further:
"And that's why I want to thank you. Not just as a principal… but as someone who believes in your potential. You saved lives. Many. And even if you see your quirk as a curse, it spared people that day."
The boy stayed silent for a few moments before offering a small smile.
"Right. Thank you, Principal."
Nezu smiled gently.
"Before you go, I need to be transparent with you about something. I informed All Might about your true identity." He folded his paws atop the desk. "After what happened at the USJ, and considering what he witnessed… he needed to know."
Ryo stayed still for a moment, calmly replying:
"I understand… it's not that bad."
"He has no intention of interfering in your life," Nezu added. "Only of ensuring that you will be protected from now on. Nothing more."
The principal leaned forward slightly.
"Oh, and one more thing." He placed his paws atop the desk. "You may take a few days to rest at home if you want. The break might help you sort out your thoughts and… who knows… recover some of the lost memories. It's not mandatory, of course. Just a sincere recommendation."
Ryo blinked, surprised.
"I'll think about it…"
"Wonderful!" Nezu opened a wide, sincere smile. "I hope you take some time to rest and organize your memories — you deserve it. You're free to go."
The boy smiled softly, gave a small nod, and left, closing the door gently behind him, leaving only a faint echo in the hallway.
----------------------------------------
The final bell echoed through the halls of U.A., signaling the end of classes. Ryo sat at his desk, headphones already in his ears, the music filling the space around his mind, shutting out the rest of the world. Slowly, he stood up, adjusting his backpack on his shoulders.
"Yo, Takeda—" Dash's cheerful voice sounded from beside him, but Ryo didn't hear it.
The blond leaned in, trying to catch his attention, gesturing about the upcoming sports festival, but Ryo remained absorbed in the music, gently nodding his head, ignoring his classmate's movements.
Dash frowned, moving his mouth rapidly, trying to say something. Finally, he sighed, giving up. Unaware, Ryo continued nodding to the rhythm of the music, lost in his own thoughts about what he would eat that night.
"I don't want to put in too much effort today… I think I still have that limited-edition Cup Noodles saved…"
He headed toward the classroom door, his steps steady, bumping his shoulder against someone. A boy with purple hair and eyes stood at the entrance, staring into the room.
Ryo didn't even look up, merely murmuring "excuse me" without really hearing a response, weaving through the crowd that had formed near the door.
As soon as he cleared some space, he pulled his phone from his pocket. The current song sounded dull to him, so he swiped across the screen, selecting a new track that better matched his mood.
(N/A: Post Malone, Swae Lee - Sunflower starts playing...)
The music took over his thoughts as he moved down the hallway, ignoring the commotion behind him, each step calm, each beat of the music setting his own rhythm, distancing himself from the crowd and following the path his instinct guided him on, without looking back.