Ryukyu was sitting against a broken stone pillar, her scales having melted back into soft, pale skin. She was clutching her neck, her breathing shallow. Now that she had reverted to her human size, the bite mark from the mechanical beast looked far more terrifying—a wide, jagged, and bloody tear across her shoulder and the side of her neck.
Izuku's eyes widened in panic. The adrenaline of the fight immediately evaporated, replaced by absolute terror for the pro hero's life.
"Ryukyu!" Izuku yelled, scrambling over the rubble and dropping to his knees beside her.
He didn't think twice. Grabbing the hem of his ruined t-shirt, Izuku yanked hard, tearing off his right sleeve completely. He hurriedly folded the fabric into a makeshift bandage, his hands trembling slightly as he leaned in close to her.
"I-I'm sorry, excuse me, hold still," Izuku stammered, his face erupting into a furious, glowing red blush as he carefully pressed the cloth against her pale skin to staunch the bleeding. He was agonizingly aware of how incredibly close he was to the Number 10 Hero, whose torn costume left very little to the imagination, and the intoxicating scent of her perfume mixed with the ozone.
Ryukyu winced slightly at the pressure, but then her golden eyes softened. She looked at the boy—who had just commanded an army of alien clones and leveled a robotic kaiju—now blushing like a ripe strawberry just from being near her. A small, genuine, and decidedly proud smile tugged at the corners of her lips. Despite the pain, she felt a distinct flutter of amusement; every woman, even a battle-hardened pro hero, enjoyed feeling beautiful enough to render a boy completely flustered.
"Thank you, Midoriya," she murmured softly, her voice raspy but warm. "You have a heroic heart."
Izuku's face somehow turned even redder, and he practically short-circuited. "I-It's n-nothing! Just applying pressure! Basic first aid!"
Ryukyu chuckled softly, reaching up to hold the makeshift bandage in place herself. She offered him her other hand. "Help me up, please."
Izuku scrambled to his feet, gently taking her hand and wrapping his arm around her uninjured waist to support her weight. Together, they slowly hobbled out of the ruined hall and back out into the courtyard, where the rest of the group was catching their breath.
"Ryukyu!"
Nejire's voice cracked with raw, unadulterated relief. The moment she saw her mentor emerge from the shadows, the bubbly third-year burst into tears. She sprinted across the gravel and threw her arms around Ryukyu's waist, burying her face into the hero's uninjured shoulder, sobbing uncontrollably.
"I thought—I thought it ate you!" Nejire wailed, completely dropping her usual energetic persona.
Ryukyu smiled gently, resting her chin on Nejire's periwinkle hair and rubbing her back soothingly. "I am right here, Nejire. Thanks to Midoriya, I'm perfectly fine."
A few feet away, Tatsuo lowered his glowing hard-light shield, the last of the Forever Knights having scattered into the woods the moment their robotic dragon was destroyed. The old man leaned against his heavy blaster, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead. He watched the touching reunion, a small, tired smile gracing his features. He allowed them a few moments of peace, knowing how rare those were in this line of work.
Finally, he cleared his throat.
"I hate to break up the moment," Tatsuo said, his voice returning to its gravelly, commanding tone. "But we are sitting on a powder keg of Level 5 technology, and we have a very small window before the authorities, or worse, more Knights, show up." Tatsuo pointed toward the open armory doors and the scattered Laser Lances dropped by the fleeing terrorists. "Itsuka. Izuku. Help me gather every piece of alien tech you can find. Pile it in the center of the courtyard."
"Yes, sir!" Izuku and Kendo responded in unison.
For the next ten minutes, the two teenagers scrambled around the courtyard and the entrance hall, hauling heavy crates of energy cells, plasma rifles, and Laser Lances. They stacked them into a massive, metallic mound in the center of the gravel driveway.
Once the pile was complete, Tatsuo adjusted a dial on the side of his heavy Plumber rifle. He aimed it squarely at the center of the weapons cache and pulled the trigger. A concentrated beam of searing, white-hot plasma erupted from the barrel. The alien technology instantly melted down, the energy cells popping and fizzing until the entire pile was reduced to nothing more than a puddle of glowing, useless slag.
"Target neutralized," Tatsuo sighed, lowering the rifle.
Suddenly, the old man's eyes rolled back. His legs buckled beneath him, and he collapsed backward, hitting the gravel hard directly on his rear end with a heavy grunt.
"Grandpa!" Itsuka shrieked in absolute panic, sprinting over to him and dropping to her knees. She grabbed his armored shoulders, her eyes wide with fear. "Grandpa, are you okay?! Are you hurt?!"
Tatsuo groaned, waving a dismissive hand as he leaned back on his elbows. He looked incredibly pale, his breathing labored. "I'm fine, Itsuka. Just... dizzy. Heart's beating a little too fast." He let out a dry, self-deprecating chuckle. "I burned through too much energy pulling that drawbridge. I'm far past my heyday, kiddo. The armor can only compensate for so much."
He looked past his granddaughter, his eyes locking onto the green-haired boy standing nearby. "Midoriya. Come here."
Izuku jogged over, kneeling down beside Kendo in the gravel. "Tatsuo-san? Should we call an ambulance?"
"No hospitals," Tatsuo commanded weakly but firmly. "Listen to me, Izuku. Tonight was a victory, but it was just a small skirmish. The DNAliens are still out there. The Forever Knights will regroup. And I... I am too old for this war. I'll only slow you down from here on out."
Itsuka's eyes welled with tears. "Don't say that!"
"It's the truth," Tatsuo said gently, squeezing his granddaughter's hand before turning back to Izuku. His expression hardened into a look of absolute, unwavering expectation. "You need to be strong now, Izuku. You have the Omnitrix. You have to be the one to use it, to do what's right."
Izuku physically shrank back, his hands trembling as he looked down at the bulky metal watch permanently affixed to his wrist. "I... I don't know if I can, Tatsuo-san. What if I screw up? I didn't even know what Echo Echo did until I was about to get crushed! I'm not trained for this. I can't... I can't live up to Grandpa. He was a real Plumber like you. He knew everything."
"Stop thinking like that," Tatsuo snapped, his voice sharp enough to make Izuku flinch. "Hiroshi isn't here right now. But you are. And you have the most powerful device in the universe strapped to your arm."
Tatsuo reached out and placed his heavy, calloused hand firmly on Izuku's shoulder. His gaze softened, filled with a deep, guiding wisdom. "We need to find out where this Level 5 tech is coming from. Hiroshi didn't just disappear, Izuku. He was in the middle of something massive. He was working completely undercover on a galaxy-wide conspiracy, and Earth is sitting right in the center of the crosshairs. If you can step up... if you can manage to crack this case..."
Tatsuo leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a fierce whisper. "...you won't just find your grandfather. You will save this planet. You need to be strong, protect Itsuka, protect your mother. You have to take responsibility, Izuku. Be the hero. Be the man your grandfather always knew you could be."
Izuku stared into the old man's eyes. The fear and self-doubt that had plagued him his entire life warred against the heavy, undeniable truth of Tatsuo's words. He looked at Kendo, who was wiping tears from her eyes. He looked at Ryukyu and Nejire, who had nearly died tonight because the world was unequipped for this threat.
He didn't have a quirk. But he had this. He had a choice.
Izuku's jaw set. The trembling in his hands stopped. He looked back at Tatsuo and gave a single, deep, resolute nod. "I understand. I promise you, Tatsuo-san. I'll find him. And I'll stop them."
Tatsuo smiled, a look of immense pride washing over his tired features. He reached down to his thick utility belt and unclasped a heavy, silver, hourglass-shaped badge. He pressed it directly into Izuku's palm, closing the boy's fingers around it.
"Welcome to the Plumbers, Cadet Midoriya," Tatsuo whispered.
Tatsuo then looked up, shifting his gaze to the golden-eyed hero standing nearby. "Ryukyu. I know it goes against everything the Hero Commission stands for. But he's going to need help. Guidance. Protection. Will you help them in my stead?"
Ryukyu stood tall, ignoring the searing pain in her neck. She placed her hand over her heart and bowed her head in total respect. "You have my word, Kendo-san. Not just for you, or for him... but to save our world. I am with you."
"Me too!" Nejire suddenly jumped in, her tears instantly replaced by a fierce, determined fire. She pumped her fist in the air. "I'm not letting my new friends fight aliens all by themselves! I'm in!"
Tatsuo let out a long, relieved sigh. "Thank you. Both of you. I managed to slice into the castle's mainframe while you were fighting and transmitted their encrypted data back to the Plumber HQ servers. It will be a while before the decryption finishes and we get any solid leads. Until then... we're done here. Let's head home."
With Kendo and Izuku supporting Tatsuo, and Nejire supporting Ryukyu, the battered but unbroken group made their way back to the hidden SUV, leaving the smoking ruins of the Blackwood Estate behind them as they began the long drive back to Musutafu.
Meanwhile, miles away, the sun was just beginning to rise over the gleaming, H-shaped towers of U.A. High School.
Inside the principal's office, the atmosphere was suffocatingly tense. The normally cheerful, tea-drinking Principal Nezu sat behind his massive mahogany desk. He wasn't smiling. His beady black eyes were completely devoid of warmth, fixed with a terrifying, unblinking intensity on the man standing before him.
Shota Aizawa, Eraserhead, stood with his hands shoved deep into his pockets, his capture weapon wrapped loosely around his neck. He looked as exhausted as ever, his posture slouched in his usual display of utter apathy.
"You wanted to see me, Principal?" Aizawa drawled, his voice a dry monotone.
Nezu folded his small, white paws together on the desk. "I did, Shota. We need to have a very frank discussion regarding your teaching methods. Specifically, your alarming tendency to expel students on their very first day based on your... singular definition of 'potential'."
Aizawa scoffed softly, rolling his eyes. "We've been over this, Nezu. It's a logical ruse. And even when I do expel them, it's to save them from getting themselves killed in the field. If they don't have a quirk suited for immediate, versatile combat, they are a liability."
"Ah, yes. The 'logical ruse'," Nezu replied, his voice dripping with an icy, biting sarcasm that made the hairs on Aizawa's arms stand up. "Tell me, Aizawa. I must have missed something in your file. When exactly did you develop the ability to level a city block with a single punch, like All Might? Are you hiding a massive strength enhancement quirk from me?"
Aizawa narrowed his eyes, clearly irritated. "No. You know I don't."
"Fascinating," Nezu hummed, tilting his head. "Well, then, surely you must be able to fly through the air at supersonic speeds, yes? Or perhaps you can shoot devastating lasers from your eyes to incinerate villains from a mile away? Is that how you dominate the battlefield?"
Aizawa's jaw tightened. "Are you mocking me? You know exactly what my quirk does. I erase other people's quirks."
Nezu slammed his paw down onto the mahogany desk with a sharp CRACK that echoed like a gunshot in the quiet room.
"Exactly!" Nezu barked, his voice suddenly rising in absolute, infuriated volume. "You erase quirks! Meaning that all your quirk does, Shota, is bring your opponent down to your level! It makes them just as completely, utterly quirkless as you are in terms of physical enhancements! You fight with a scarf and martial arts! You are, for all intents and purposes, a quirkless man in a fistfight!"
Aizawa opened his mouth to argue, but Nezu cut him off completely, his intellect weaponized into a verbal beatdown.
"And let us not forget the glaring, undeniable flaw in your 'logical' arsenal," Nezu continued, his voice venomous. "Your quirk does not work on mutation types! If you are faced with a villain who naturally possesses the strength of a rhinoceros or the scales of a dragon, your quirk is absolutely useless! In those situations, you are quite literally a civilian in a sleeping bag! Yet you have the unmitigated gall to stand in front of teenagers and judge their 'potential' for combat?"
Aizawa stood perfectly still, his eyes wide. For the first time in a very long time, the underground hero was completely, utterly speechless. The casual arrogance had been entirely stripped from his posture.
"You expel students for lacking immediate physical power, yet your entire career is built on the fact that you survive by fighting without it," Nezu stated coldly, bringing the man completely down to earth. "You are a hypocrite, Shota. You look down on those who have to struggle to find alternative ways to be heroes, simply because their methods aren't as convenient as your glowing red eyes. And let's not forget how many other heroes out there have quirks unsuitable for combat yet stand at the top of their field, such as Recovery girl."
Nezu picked up his teacup, which had long since gone cold, and took a slow, deliberate sip.
"You will re-evaluate your criteria for potential, Aizawa. Immediately," Nezu ordered, his tone leaving absolutely no room for debate. "Because out there in the real world, the threats are growing. And a hero's true potential is not measured by the flashiness of their quirk, but by their willingness to step into the dark when others run away.And if I hear of you expelling someone again for a reason as ridiculous as being quirkless. Then we will need to discuss your contract. Dismissed."