What is a Hero?
Is it strength? Invincibility? Standing on the side of justice against evil?
Kuro didn't know.
All he knew was that he had given up his chance to escape. He had thrown away the option to save himself, and what he might lose in return… was his life.
Would that choice amount to anything?
He didn't know.
Before he could think it through, his body was already moving.
He ran toward the children.
Save them?
With what?
How?
"Don't even think about it!" the long-tongue villain roared, anger flaring. It wasn't about Kuro's strength. It was the defiance. Even a weak opponent daring to resist was enough to provoke it.
Several mouths opened along the tongue, each filled with needles.
Dense.
Like a living weapon.
Kuro's chest tightened.
If all of those struck—
"Go away!" the creature snarled. "Run!"
But Kuro didn't stop.
He kept moving, even as the worst outcome played out in front of him.
The needles pierced into the children one by one.
Arms.
Legs.
Feet.
Even their heads.
Each needle sank in slowly, disappearing beneath the skin without a trace.
Kuro's hands trembled.
"I love this expression," the creature said softly. "Wanting to save someone… and being forced to watch them suffer instead."
Its voice cut deeper than the pain.
"It's a privilege usually reserved for professional Heroes."
The tongue shifted again, another needle forming.
"This is my favorite part."
It aimed straight for a child's eye.
Kuro stepped back.
"Oh? Finally running?"
He said nothing.
But his eyes didn't waver.
That look—
It stirred something ugly in the creature.
It wanted those eyes.
To tear them out.
To watch that hope break.
The needle moved.
Kuro moved first.
He pushed off the ground and leapt.
His arms spread wide, his body cutting through the air.
He caught two of the children by their legs and slammed his shoulder into the third, knocking them all free.
The impact threw him to the ground.
Pain flared instantly.
The villain paused, confused.
Why?
Why would he do that?
Then a thought surfaced.
Contact.
Does his quirk require contact?
The tongue snapped forward, wrapping Kuro tightly where he lay.
Kuro didn't resist.
His eyes were shut, his lips pale.
"What did you do?" the creature demanded, a needle forming near his throat.
Kuro tried to smile.
But the pain swallowed everything.
It spread through his body.
Needles.
Everywhere.
His hands, arms, chest, legs—pierced through, one after another.
Even his scalp.
Even his lips.
Blood soaked into his clothes, dripping down onto the ground.
The villain stared.
The needles that had been inside the children… were now inside him.
The children—
Unharmed.
Their skin was clear. Their breathing steady.
Kurose Kuro's quirk: Damage Transfer.
He couldn't redirect his own injuries anymore.
But he could still take others' injuries onto himself.
That was all he could do.
He lay there, staring up at the sky.
The wind rustled the trees above him.
The scent of blood filled the air.
So this is it.
This time, it's everything.
Every wound.
Every bit of pain.
All of it transferred completely.
I'm going to die.
A shadow fell across the sky.
Blonde hair.
A towering figure.
The villain screamed.
The children cried out in relief.
"It's okay," the man said, gripping the tongue and tearing it apart with brute force. He pulled the children free and set them down gently.
"Because—"
His voice rang out, steady and absolute.
"I am here!"
"All Might!"
"All Might!"
Sirens echoed in the distance.
Voices shouted.
Kuro's vision blurred.
The pain didn't fade.
If anything, it grew sharper.
…Dad.
It hurts.
"You're a man now, Kuro. You have to learn to protect yourself."
"I can give my injuries to others," he had said back then, small and stubborn. "So why do I need to protect myself?"
"That's not how it works," his father had replied gently. "What does a good person do?"
"Eat properly. Listen to Mom. Don't talk to strangers."
"That's part of it. But there's more. You can't use your quirk to hurt others. No matter what."
"But it hurts."
His father smiled.
"What you don't like… others don't like either. So sometimes, you bear it yourself."
He placed a hand on Kuro's head.
"You can take on pain and ease it for others. That's an incredible power."
"It still hurts."
"Then I'll take care of it," his father said softly. "It won't hurt anymore."
A breeze brushed across Kuro's face.
He opened his eyes.
White ceiling.
White sheets.
An IV drip at his side.
His body ached everywhere.
The pain hadn't lessened.
It simply reminded him he was still alive.
The window was open. The wind was gentle.
Outside, cherry blossoms drifted.
The door slid open.
Granny Neko stood there, with Shinso beside her, holding a tray.
"You're finally awake," she said.
Kuro let out a faint breath.
"So… I'm still alive."
For a moment, he had thought—
He might see his father again.