In the next instant, the rooftop exploded into motion.
Stain lunged first, vanishing in a blur of speed, his sword whistling through the air. Izuku blocked it with a single hand, the impact shattering the concrete beneath them.
The steel shrieked against his palm.
Stain didn't hesitate. He twisted his wrist mid-clash, redirecting the blade downward toward Izuku's ribs. Izuku pivoted on his heel, the edge grazing fabric but missing flesh. His free hand snapped forward—
THUD.
A sharp body shot to Stain's midsection.
Stain absorbed it, boots skidding back only half a step before he retaliated. A knee drove toward Izuku's sternum, immediately followed by a second blade flashing from his other hand.
The movements were fluid — disciplined — every strike aimed for arteries, tendons, weak points.
Izuku leaned back just enough to let the knife skim past his throat. He caught Stain's wrist mid-stab and squeezed.
CRACK.
Not breaking — warning.
Stain's grin widened instead of fading.
"Good," he rasped.
He kicked off Izuku's chest, flipping backward, scarf trailing behind him like a streak of blood. He landed low, then dashed in again — zigzagging unpredictably across the rooftop.
A slash aimed at Izuku's thigh—
CLANG.
Izuku trapped the blade between his forearm and bicep, rotating his body to deaden the force. With his other hand he fired a short hook toward Stain's jaw.
Stain ducked. Too close. Izuku's fist skimmed over his head, but the shockwave alone tore gravel from the rooftop and blasted it outward like shrapnel.
Stain rolled through the debris, came up inside Izuku's guard, and drove a blade upward toward his shoulder.
Izuku shifted at the last possible second. The tip nicked his skin but nothing really happened.
Izuku's knee came up like a piston.
BAM.
It caught Stain in the ribs and launched him across the rooftop. He hit the ground hard, rolled, and sprang back to his feet almost instantly, coughing once but smiling like a madman.
"Again," Stain growled.
Izuku stepped forward this time. He closed the distance in one smooth motion, parried a downward slash with the edge of his palm, rotated inside Stain's stance, and drove an elbow toward his temple.
Stain twisted, the blow grazing him instead of crushing him. He responded with a sweeping kick aimed at Izuku's ankles.
Izuku hopped over it effortlessly and brought his heel down toward Stain's shoulder.
CRASH.
The rooftop cracked beneath them from the impact alone.
At the same time, Shigaraki's hand grazed the ground, sending a wave of decay spreading outward like a virus. The air filled with the sharp scent of dust and rot.
Concrete blackened and crumbled instantly, racing toward them in jagged lines.
Stain jumped back, narrowly avoiding the spreading decay.
"You idiot!" he snapped toward Shigaraki.
Izuku didn't move at first. He simply watched. Then he leaped.
He rose cleanly above the destruction. Below him, Shigaraki's Decay tore through the rooftop in seconds. Cracks spread like spiderwebs, devouring support beams and steel reinforcements alike.
The entire roof groaned and gave way.
Stain and Shigaraki dropped with it, swallowed by falling concrete and rebar as the upper level collapsed into the building below. Dust erupted upward in a violent plume.
"Wow," he said dryly, tilting his head as the structure continued collapsing beneath him, "you really are a man-child."
Stain landed in a crouch, boots skidding slightly across broken tile as he absorbed the impact. Dust rolled off his shoulders. His sword gleamed faintly under the flickering fluorescent light of the ruined floor below.
For a brief second, everything was still.
Then he clicked his tongue.
"Tch… I have better things to do than deal with this childish nonsense!" he barked, shooting Shigaraki a venomous glare. Concrete dust drifted from the ceiling between them.
He lifted his gaze to Izuku, who hovered calmly above the collapsed opening.
"Follow me, kid! If you want to fight seriously!"
There was no hesitation.
Stain pivoted and sprinted toward the shattered window at the far end of the floor. His movements were fluid despite the debris underfoot — stepping over fallen beams, pushing off walls, adjusting balance without breaking stride.
He leaped.
Glass exploded outward as his body tore through the remaining frame, shards scattering like silver rain under the moonlight. His red scarf snapped violently behind him as he vanished into the night air.
The broken window howled with wind in his wake.
For half a second, silence returned.
Then—
A low, warping hum filled the air. The sound wasn't loud. But it was wrong.
Behind Shigaraki, space bent inward like liquid folding in on itself. Black mist gathered and thickened, spiraling upward before forming into a tall, cloaked silhouette.
Kurogiri.
His single yellow eye flickered faintly through the darkness of his vaporous form.
"You are… reckless as always, Shigaraki," he said calmly.
Shigaraki didn't look back. Instead, his cracked lips curled into something ugly.
"You worry too much."
The mist beside Kurogiri expanded again. Three massive shapes stepped through.
The first Nomu ducked slightly under the ceiling, its muscles twitching under taut black skin. Its blank eyes reflected the fluorescent light like glass beads.
The second dragged its knuckles along the ground, leaving grooves in the concrete.
The third rolled its shoulders, bones audibly popping as it adjusted to the space. Their growls were low, animalistic — reverberating through the fractured structure.
Izuku's eyes sharpened as he dropped down landing on the edge.
Shigaraki's grin widened.
"Run rampant," he ordered, voice trembling with anticipation rather than fear. "Hosu City will be leveled when I'm done with it. Leave this kid to me!"
Kurogiri inclined his head slightly.
"As you wish."
His mist expanded in three separate spirals.
Portals snapped open around each Nomu — swirling, black-edged voids that distorted the room's light.
One stepped forward and vanished into a warp that shimmered with the distant glow of train signals.
Another disappeared into a portal revealing the bright chaos of a market district, civilians still moving unaware.
The third portal opened high above the rooftops, wind roaring through the aperture before swallowing the creature whole.
Their roars echoed briefly through the warps— Then were gone. The room felt emptier.
But the city beyond had just grown infinitely louder.
Shigaraki finally looked up at Izuku.
His fingers flexed slowly, concrete dust trickling from his palm.
"Now," he said softly, tilting his head, "let's see if you can save everyone at once."
Izuku's expression hardened.
The calm, almost amused look he had worn seconds ago vanished completely. His jaw set. His emerald eyes sharpened into something colder — calculating.
The air around him began to ripple faintly, subtle distortions warping the light like heat rising off asphalt. But this wasn't heat.
It was pressure.
Condensed power tightening around him like a storm coiling inward before a lightning strike.
"You really are his apprentice," he said quietly. The words weren't loud. Yet they carried a weight — a certainty — that cut straight through the dust-filled air.
For the first time since arriving, Shigaraki's grin faltered.
His fingers paused mid-twitch.
"…What?"
Kurogiri's single eye flickered.
Before either of them could speak again—
BOOM.
Izuku shot upward.
The sound barrier shattered around him like glass. A violent shockwave erupted from his launch point, blasting outward in a circular burst.
Concrete fragments were ripped from walls. Ceiling panels tore free.
The already unstable floor beneath Shigaraki fractured further as wind screamed through the exposed structure.
Shigaraki threw his arm up, coat snapping violently around him. Dust and splinters lashed against his body as the building groaned under the sudden force.
The shattered window frame bent outward from the pressure alone. In less than a second, Izuku's figure became a streak.
Then a blur. Then nothing but a shrinking silhouette vanishing into the cloud cover.
Silence returned in pieces — debris clattering to the floor, fluorescent lights buzzing weakly overhead.
Shigaraki lowered his hand slowly.
His eyes followed the empty sky through the broken window. His fingers twitched again — more erratic this time.
"How…" he muttered under his breath.
His voice wasn't angry.
It was unsettled.
"How does he know?"
Kurogiri's mist shifted slightly beside him.
"You have not revealed that information publicly," Kurogiri observed carefully.
Shigaraki's jaw tightened.
The night wind poured through the broken opening, ruffling his hair.
Far above, faint sonic cracks echoed again — distant, controlled, deliberate. Shigaraki's lips curled back into a thin, irritated smile — but the confidence didn't quite reach his eyes.
"…Then we'll just have to break him before he finds out anything else."
TO BE CONTINUED