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It wasn’t very hard for him to get ahold of Iida’s glasses - he had two spares at all times after all. However, he was a finicky guy and he’d surely worry if a spare was missing. So he’d gone the extra mile and had made an exact duplicate of the glasses before he made his modifications to the old pair. They were a simple pair of glasses - black frames and sturdy plastic lenses. He picked them up and moved them slightly in the light from his desk lamp showing that he had anti-reflective coating on them as well as how smudge free the lenses were. Izuku laughed to himself. Wasted effort on his behalf for a spare pair of glasses but nothing less than expected for class representative. 

He got to work after a few tests on the pair. Over the past few nights, he’d been testing things on duplicates of the glasses or different pairs altogether to evaluate what would work best to help cut down the endless list of what would help and what wouldn't. Now he had them in front of him, he could finally crack down for actual work. 

What he had in mind was for the glasses to insert one of his own codes into Iida’s body to make his death slicker. There was a chance after all the wound could heal if their classmates tried hard enough and he couldn’t risk that. He needed to die - that was crucial. The code was complicated but thankfully not out of his reach to make. It slowed down the body's functions until it died but only when the body was interfered with by an outside force. Didn’t want him dying without a visible cause after all. 

With that done, all he had left was to figure out how to place it - the code could fit quite snuggly into a 1 cm by 0.5 cm space but where would it be least noticeable? Picking them up, he slowly rotated them in the air and analysed it from all angles, taking his time to come up with the best solution. The side of the temples would be his best bet after some thinking, as there it wouldn’t interfere with the hinges so Iida would be able to use them with ease as well as not being as noticeable if they were on the front part of the glasses. Plus it was about the same thickness so it would easily fit. To be careful though, he decided to remove a small part of the frame to make it more inconspicuous and for easier access to the head. When he was finished, the pair looked perfect for use. Time to put his plan into action.

His team did the rest of the work for him which he was quite grateful for. His field of expertise was robotics and coding - he wasn’t built for disconnecting telephone lines or scheduling a complete shutdown of all communications when needed. Despite this, he still had to carry out the last part of the plan. The weapon he would use was hidden in a concealed part of his desk that only he knew how to access - his team could never be trusted. The tip was spiked with a slow-acting poison and had a serrated edge to make sure if any of his classmates pulled it out the consequences would be dire. 

As he reached into his desk on the day, Iida walked in and smiled at him, already wearing the rigged glasses. Switching his usual pair for them was quite simple despite contributing to his lack of sleep. Iida didn’t seem to notice his eye bags just yet, thankfully. It felt odd waving back to him as he reached inside his desk to check on his murder weapon but whatever. Any guilt he had about his actions were gone, he told himself.

Despite this, he felt a bit of remorse as he plunged the knife into his back an hour later. 

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“Can someone without a quirk become a hero like you?” Izuku bounced on the tips of his toes as he waited for an answer from the hero he’d looked up to, small tears beading up in the corners of his eyes. The two of them stood face to face on the rooftop of a building neither recognised well, All Might towering over the small middle-schooler. 

All Might’s expression barely changed from his trademark wide grin as he responded. “Honestly, I don’t think so kid.” Izuku’s face paled drastically and he started to stammer but not before All Might carried on talking. “This job isn’t easy and pro heroes always have to risk their lives. You could get hurt without a quirk.” He places a hand on Izuku’s shoulder as he talks and slowly starts to walk him towards the small door leading down into the building. “It’s not bad to have dreams, but make sure they’re obtainable and realistic, alright?” 

It’s at that moment that he starts crying his eyes out, his nose dripping as he falls to his knees with a wail. His dreams crushed to shards as his last hope of a future in heroism falls out of his reach. Why did All Might’s words have to hurt so much? Why did he even ask if the words would do nothing but make him feel worse than before? His breathing becomes ragged as he sobs into the concrete. The ground shakes slightly as All Might comes down and hugs Izuku tightly. His crying stops briefly before it quickly resumes - the memories of the words his hero had said still fresh in his mind. “L-let go.,” Izuku mumbles as the hug tightens past the point of comforting. “A-All Might please...”

”I’ve just thought of something.” The grip releases and Izuku immediately relishes the moment to breathe. “Do you want to be a hero kid?” The stars in his eyes might up once more and he nods with a big grin despite his red puffy eyes and runny nose. Maybe things were looking up again? “Then do this for me kid.” All Might’s grip on his back tightens once more. “Don’t scream, it’ll help. Just wait and see.” With each word his grip becomes tighter and tighter against his back, making it more laborious for him to breath but All Might shows no signs of stopping any time soon. Izuku tries to move his mouth to say something but the most he can manage is a small gasp before he splutters as the pressure from both sides finally gives in. A multitude of snaps occur, but All Might doesn’t release his iron grip on the smaller body until he’s certain the other is deceased. 

Carefully, he picks up the body in his arms and surveys his surroundings. It’s all too much in the open to go elsewhere so this shabby building he had arranged connections with would have to serve for now. None of the equipment he would need for the boy was available here but it wasn’t like his corpse would get any worse waiting. Besides, all of this would be erased - all the boy would remember in his new robotic life would be from the moment he arose to serve the world’s soon-to-be ruler and onwards in his duties.

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The crackle of electricity woke him with a start. His vision was blurry around the edges but he couldn’t get comfortable no matter how he tried. Looking down, he found the reason why - his arms and legs were strapped to the wall behind him tightly, which provided the most of the small amount of light in the room through glowing sections. The barest movement could be made of a few millimetres which did little to ease the cramping all around his body. His fingers had the least space of all, nothing he did would remove them from pressing against the wall. Every second or so, lightning would forcibly spark from his fingers and if he strained his head he could see it dart through sections of the wall. Some of it darted beneath the floor, glowing up faintly through the floor, revealing to him small sections of the room he was in. So far, all he could see was more “scientific” equipment. If his hands weren’t trapped, this room would easily come under his control but the matter of the fact was that the room had him under its control. 

A beam of light opened in the distance and he lifted his eyes to see it but looked away instantly. It was brighter than the total darkness he was in and his eyes burned from the small glance he had taken before the door softly shut. Small clicks indicated footsteps as someone came towards him. They paused a meter away and he tried to look menacing - ready to fight. If they felt anything towards it they didn’t express it and he resumed a neutral expression eventually. Muffled laughter filled the quiet room and he squinted his eyes to try and see who was in front of him. 

Their face was blurry not due to the lack of light but for what appeared to be a mask that dimly reflected his own reflection. It was disheartening to see how scared he looked. Near the floor, their shoes glowed revealing that some of the darkness around them was part of their clothes. A gloved hand crept towards his face and gripped his chin tight. All his instincts urged him to scream, getaway or do something about it but all he did was stare into his own reflection. A sigh and the grip tightened making him let out a small scream. “Much better..” An almost familiar yet electronic voice coos behind the mask as they sit down in front of him, the shape of a labcoat forming around them “You’ll do great here.” The grip releases as they ‘pat’ his cheek, each touch feeling like a slap.

“Here?” His voice cracks as he speaks, much hoarser than it had been the last time he had spoken - a lifetime ago for all it mattered. The mask tilts slightly before giggling again. 

“Why should I tell you?” They ask him and he watches his expression falter in the reflection before they roar with laughter again. “The information isn’t necessary for you to do what we require from you. All you need to know is-“ They grip his cheek with their tight grip making him scream. His cheek could be pulled off if they wanted it to be. “You could be dead right now. Be grateful you’re not.” With that, the figure gets up and walks off towards the door. Despite the nature of their meeting, Denki finds himself longing for the human connection again as he finds himself once again left alone in the dark room. 

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He couldn't tell how much time had passed between the last time he'd felt human connection. Sure he'd had many sleepless nights to give him a general estimate but at the same time, each day seemed to meld into one another with barely any difference to distinguish one another. All his days consisted of now was sitting there helpless as his electricity fed whatever contraption the wall behind him was.

Today seemed to be different as light suddenly flooded his vision but more intensely than the previous times. When his eyes finally adjusted enough, he felt his mouth drop open. The room's lights were turned on for the first time, transforming the room entirely from what he had imagined it to be. It was stuffed to the brim with equipment of all shapes and sizes and the walls were plastered with posters and leaflets with notes in every colour of the rainbow scribbled on them. No one else was attached to any of the equipment in the room which was somewhat of a relief but made the purpose of the wall behind him more terrifying.

In front of him, was the same figure that had taunted him before but in clearer detail. Their glass mask covered most of their face apart from a few tufts of green hair and they wore a greenish labcoat with a bodysuit underneath. Their heels clicked as they stepped towards him, dragging someone around Denki's age by the wrist with them. He couldn't recognise them but their uniform made him gasp. It was U-A. Nothing spectacular stood out about the U-A student other than a small Rubix-cube they grasp in their free hand. As they came close, the figure waved to him and he spat at their feet.

"I sincerely hope you won't be this much of a hassle to keep alive in the future." They sigh, stepping forward to backhand him, making his head sharply turn and sting. He wishes that his hands were free so he could do something to help with the pain but all he can do is wince and try not to cry. "There we go. Nice and quiet. Now we can get started." They clap their hands and push the student forwards. "Introduce yourself now to 107." They shuffle the cube around a bit before talking.

"With names?" They get a backhand and fall to their knees. The masked figure decides to speak for them.

"You've probably guessed this student is from U-A, despite your awful exam scores haven't you?" He winces and looks down. Not something he wanted to be reminded of. "Class 1-A barely even knows 1-B so I'll also assume you won't recognise a General Studies student." From the look on their face, he could see they were as uncomfortable as he was. What was the purpose of this? "Fukunaga, show 107 your quirk on this." From the labcoat, they pull out a long piece of metal and hold it with both hands, nodding to Fukunaga. He watches as they mess with the Rubix cube to get it to full orange and throws it at the metal. The metal flashes with electricity for a second before fizzling out of existence with a few sparks. One lands on his shoulder and he winces in pain. "Fascinating isn't it?" The masked figure puts a hand on Fukunaga's shoulder as the Rubix cube flies back into the palm of their hand. "His quirk allows for manual distribution of the watts he emits, which made him a more preferable electric quirk to get our hands on. Don't feel too offended." They walk around him, their hands switching from shoulder to shoulder. "Granted, his limit is a lot smaller than yours and we can't run our systems on barely 100,000 watts can we now?" Their hands leave his shoulders and they walk in front of Denki and put their hands on the straps holding his arms to the wall. The pressure on them increases for a moment before they're released.

He moves them slightly and winces at the pain - his skin bright red around the places the straps were. "Why?" He whispers as he moves them more, wriggling his fingers as much as he can. They step back and smirk. 

"I have a theory that I'd like to try out today. Catch." They turn to Fukunaga and he frowns slightly, but sighs. He moves to throw it at Denki who tries to remember how to catch things, but then he watches as they shuffle it into full red and immediately lobs it directly at the glass mask. Just as before, the mask flashes with electricity before fizzling with a bang. He manages to duck as some of the glass flies where his head used to, but the person behind the mask cries out in agony. The sparks would've had no other place to go other than their eyes, nose and mouth - all the least favourable places for hot sparks to fly into. He and Fukunaga share a glance as they watch the masked person scream and writhe - an opportunity. Something falls out of their pocket and he moves to grab it but falls flat on his face. Of course, he'd forgotten his feet were still attached. Fortunately, the masked person isn't the only one who knows how to release the straps and he finds himself released with Fukunaga's help. He presses the object into his hand - a flip-phone - and gestures to the door.

"What about you?" He whispers, looking back to the less dazed masked figure. As a response, he pushes him for the exit with a scared look in his eyes. Denki wastes no time jumping over the equipment and dashing through the door despite the burning pain in his legs urging him to stop or at least slowdown. However, he isn't stellar at physical exercise and he pauses to catch his breath and let his legs recover. His eyes dart back out of instinct and his face pales. Storming towards him with an unconscious Fukunaga behind him is the unmistakable face of Deku, clad in the same lab coat and boots as the masked figure. He dashes away from his 'classmate' and flips open the phone and goes to messages. Barely reading the contact name to make sure it's not his mom, he starts to type, ignoring the incoming explosions behind him.

'ots deigi font yrust deuy."

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Maybe it was a bad idea to have his phone out while he was studying, but technically it was off. Only important notifications would come through such as  calls or - a text notification from Midoriya pops onto his screen. Ojiro wastes no time grabbing his phone, a goofy smile on his face and his tail wagging. He inputs his password as quick as he can and opens the message, mindlessly screenshotting it before he really reads it. It’s what he usually does with Midoriya’s messages - to treasure them later or to giggle at in bed. 

The messages are deleted to his surprise.   A typing bubble pops up and another message comes through. [sorry about that! i’m babysitting my cousin and she stole my phone. please ignore what she said!] His fingers start to fly across the keyboard in reply.

[its okay, i didnt get the chance to read them. youve got good reflexes! ive got to go study now but see you later!] He sighs as he places his phone down as Midoriya replies before a thought crosses his mind. Maybe he had managed to screenshot the message before it’d been deleted? He was somewhat curious of what it contained - after all an innocent message from a cousin wouldn’t be instantly deleted. So he went to his photos and looked. 

His goofy smile faded instantly as he read the message. 

[ots deigi font yrust deuy. hrs loke evol n shit n miht koll mr lol. oh hr js ob fick fuck duckc didk fic]

It was gibberish at first and that was a disappointing find. But as he moved to delete it, he read it again. And something clicked. It was more so misspellings than gibberish - ‘ots’ being its, ‘font’ being dont and deigi being... “Fuck.” He muttered under his breath as he scrambled to get to the phone app, scroll to wherever he’d put Denki’s contact and call. It felt like a lifetime before someone got through to him and he sighed in relief. 

“Oj? What’s up with you calling this late dude?” Kaminari groaned from the other end. “You need something?”

”Sorry I was just concerned about you. Paranoia.” His words were slow. Something didn’t feel right about this situation at all and this wasn’t helping his nerves at all. Looking over at his textbook, he closed it while he waited for a response. He didn’t feel like studying any more. 

“Aww that’s sweet of you! Usually the only people to check up on me are I- uhm. Kirishima usually checks up on me I meant.” The conversation from then on is stilted and awkward so he hangs up after goodbyes. It’s always hard to acknowledge the death of their classmate even long after the incident. Even harder was having to forget about one of his closest friends and crushes after the truth of what she had done had came out. A tear slid down his cheek as he stood up from his chair and crashed onto his bed, crying his eyes out until he collapses. 

He was oblivious to the fact that on the other side of the call Kaminari was not present. Maybe his voice was - that was the handy part of collecting his classmates voices into voicebanks - but physically he was not. Midoriya looked over to the lackeys from the LOV strapping the injured Kaminari into the machine and smirked. He would not be able to run from him again, he was certain of it.

Chapter Text

Inko always made sure to arrange a trip to Isshiki beach every year on the anniversary of her husband's departure, to get both her own and her son's mind off Hisashi's absence. By some miracle, Izuku continued to enjoy the trips as he grew from an emotional toddler enjoying his mother's company more than anything else to a strong teenager who kept smiling brightly through everything. But this year, something felt off about him as they rode the bus. Sure, last year he had used the time to study, but he was just sat there, staring out the window.  All her attempts to interact were ignored apart from a few nods or shakes from his head. It didn't stop her from trying, but she felt discouraged by the time they had arrived. Maybe it was all the stress that came with going to UA with all the studies and villain attacks? 

The awkwardness didn't stop after they had arrived - usually, he would run out to the sand and she could let herself relax as she watched him have fun. Instead, the two of them sat together on the towel she'd brought in silence. It was strange watching the small number of other people around them having fun while Izuku sat crosslegged staring ahead - the only signs that he was alive was him blinking.

After 15 minutes, enough was enough. She placed the small book she'd brought down and put a hand on his shoulder - the way his head turned to face her felt unnatural. "Honey, do you feel alright? I'm concerned about you." He faced away from her again and she frowned. "Do you want to go home?" He shook his head.

"Mom?" The sound of his voice was enough to make her giddy. He was talking! She gestured for him to continue. "It's about dad." Her face fell. Of course, that was what got him to start talking again. 

"What about him?" In response, he showed her his phone. Holding it slightly to keep it still, she read the text message. Izuku hadn't named the contact so it simply read a phone number. One that she had memorised years ago - Hisashi's. Her eyes scanned down to the message.

[Izuku, I'd like to formally apologise for abandoning you for all these years. Work held me up in America and with all the stress you and your mother were forgotten. I feel tremendously guilty and I would like to arrange a meeting with you and Inko. I'm aware of your yearly arrangements at Isshiki and I hope it wouldn't be to much trouble to have it there. If not, we can arrange for another time or not at all if that is how you feel. I love you. - H]

In the process of reading the message, she felt tears falling down her cheeks - but she didn't know why. Sadness from the hole in her heart that he had left? Happiness from being able to see him again? Or anger from the heartlessness that he had displayed with his absence and not even bothering to ask her about her feelings on the matter first? All of the above, perhaps. She felt Izuku's hands on her back and she embraced the hug, all her previous worries about her son secondary. He whispered something in her ear as she cried into his shoulder her mind too all over the place to listen.

A possible mistake, as pain started to blossom from her shoulders. It jerked her out of the depressive spiral the message had sent her on as Izuku's grip on her shoulders faded. She almost fell into his lap but steadied herself with her hands as she shakily turned around despite the pain begging her to stop and succumb. At the front of the beach stands a man that she is certain is Hisashi. His hair is no longer the stark black it used to be - it barely hangs onto his head in large clumps. As he walks towards the pair with an uncanny smile, she watches as more of it falls into the sand. her head jerks around to see that the rest of the people on the beach have collapsed into the sand, the sand decorated with blood around their bodies. "What the fuck Hisashi? What's going on?" She yells to which he laughs.  

"This is all for the greater good my dear!" He raises his gun and shoots. She's dead before she can blink, the bullet stopped only when it hits Izuku's nose with a clank. Hisashi smiles at it and walks towards him to ruffle his hair. Sure, only his spine needed the robotic enhancements but he wanted his son to be safe. This was an improvement. He put the bullet into his pocket to dispose of and puts his hand on Izuku's shoulder. "Hey, kiddo. You did well. Let's head home."

Izuku simply nods. He would mourn the loss of his mother, but he no longer had tear ducts. Those were unnecessary after all.

Chapter Text

 

At this point, he was used to having his limbs restrained when he woke up. He should've guessed they'd catch up to him, but it was still soul-crushing to see. Fukunaga's sacrifice had meant nothing and he'd probably never get another attempt to escape. He had some hopes that his message had gotten through, but it had disappeared in seconds after sending- he should've guessed Midoriya had another phone somewhere. It was a new environment, however, which was unsettling. While his limbs were no longer strapped behind him, they were now placed in a way that only let him slouch. Looking down, his forearms were encased in metal with wires wrapping up to his shoulder where they were inserted into his skin with the same thing happening to his legs. His head was the only thing he could freely move even a minuscular amount anymore but he could move it both vertically and horizontally. Small victories. The metal encasings glowed a soft green and the room wasn't as pitch black as the last one, but it still gave off the same bad vibes.

Speaking of bad vibes, he could see the re-masked Midoriya enter the room followed by a taller and a more muscular figure. He walks over and puts a hand on his chin. "You're really something aren't you 107?" A backhand and Kaminari tries not to wince. When did Midoriya get so good at backhanding people? "We're going to have some fun after what you did." His face is grasped by both of his hands tightly before being released. Midoriya steps backwards and extends a gloved hand towards the muscular figure. "Introduce yourself." He commands.

"Magne." She tilts her head and smiles sadistically. It doesn't reach her eyes. 

"Magne here's gonna help me get this fun started." He claps his hands and the room lights up. It's larger than he expected with the nearest wall around 20 meters away. A large opaque sheet stands behind the duo in front of him before it's whisked away - landing with a thunk behind him. The sight before him makes him attempt to lurch forwards, his mouth trying to communicate something but all that comes out is gargles. 

Ten chairs stand before him in two rows, the people on them strapped in by their wrists and ankles. In half the chairs, sit blank realistic mannequins. In the other half, sit his best friends. Their eyes are shut but their frowns make him want to rip out his restraints and do something. Anything.

He settles by glaring daggers into his own reflection on Midoriya's mask. He laughs in response. "You look sad!" He claps his hands and he watches as Magne raises her own. The straps start to contract into the chairs and the frowns turn to open screaming mouths. The voices snap him into reality and he screams back. These were his friends. They had his friends. The screams stop after what feels like forever but he screams until he runs out of breath. He moves to scream more but he feels his mouth being pulled shut. So he cries. Midoriya comes over and tilts his head. His tears are wiped and his fingers pull his frown into a smile as Midoriya makes him smile wide. He laughs. "That's the spirit!" He lets go and walks back to Magne. 

She mouths something to him as Midoriya starts talking again. "Now time for the game! Take a look at the machine you're in. It's taking your electricity and powering it into this." He gestures to her again and she moves a small tazer with wires attaching it to the floor to him with her quirk. The metal encasing his forearms lifts out of the ground and upwards until his arms are both facing forwards. Both have fingers attached to the ends and he experimentally wiggles them. They move. He weakly laughs. Movement. The tazer slots into his palm and he slowly rotates his hand. It feels somewhat weird but he welcomes the change. He was sick of being unable to move his hands. "It's quite a fantastic little device 107. You can channel as much electricity as you want through here or as little. It's been tested on other electricity quirks after all."

"Why did you give me it though?" He mutters under his breath. If what Midoriya was saying was true, it was basically a smaller version of his sharpshooting gear without the pointers. 

"Good question!" Midoriya gestures to the chairs. "We're playing Russian Roulette! Except with electricity of course. And robots." He moves to the closest 'friend' and lifts up their wig to reveal the same base as the mannequins. "You thought these were your friends?" He remarks with a laugh. "We'll do that if you continue to misbehave." The words send a chill down his spine and Kaminari bites his lip. Thankfully, his friends weren't going to be hurt, but they resembled them to well for him to get the nerves to go away. "There are 5 robots and 5 friends involved in this game. Flip your tazer over will you?" He does as instructed and sees a small panel. He lifts his head and Midoriya nods. He opens it with the other hand and finds it's empty. "The tazer powers itself off your electricity but it can be jammed easily. For example, non-organic material is very effective as you may recall." He recalls it well - the sports festival had been embarrassing. Five small blocks of plant material float over to him and land on the tazer. "You're going to have to shoot at each chair. In any order you wish, but the order of the jammers will be shuffled. So plan them well. You wouldn't want to kill a friend would you?" Midoriya giggles after that and Kaminari picks up the little blocks cautiously. Critical thinking skills would come in handy here.

He's fucked. He looks up for some kind of hint and finds only his own tearstained confused reflection looking back. He inserts them in twos to the best of his abilities. If he put it in ones then he would face the chance of wasting a jammer on a robot and having to electrify one of his friend robots. Although now he thinks about it twos are riskier. To late. He's closed the lid and he watches as the panel sinks in and start to rotate around. It's calming to watch it spin but it comes to a stop. He grips the tazer and chokes back a sob. This was a mistake. But making mistakes when real people aren't involved is good. Midoriya steps out of the way and gestures for him to shoot. His hands shake as he aims. Maybe he should shoot a friend first? His hands shake as he aims and squeezes the trigger, praying to anyone who would hear. 

It jams. He smiles. 

He aims at a mannequin next to check the order. It fires and the robot jerks in its chair, sizzling. It's disturbing - even more so as it doesn't scream. It's 'mouth' doesn't move. The next one should be the same so he aims at another mannequin. It fires again and the robot jerks in the same unnatural way. He may be getting the hang of this sick game. The next one should be a jammer so he moves to another friend. 

It fires.

And Kirishima screams tear through his soul as his body jerks more realistically than the robots. He thrashes against the restraints as the electricity ravages his body while Kaminari watches in horror. Midoriya laughs hysterically.

"April fools! You just hit the real deal! Poor Kirishima, huh?!"

They scream in unison until Kirishima's voice fades to nothing as he dies. Kaminari finds himself to distraught to hold on to the tazer let alone aim. He just screams and cries his eyes out.

Chapter Text

 He was supposed to be dead.

He had felt the electricity course through his body alongside the excruciating pain. Yet his eyes had opened again. Everything wasn't entirely fine - his limbs hurt to move and his vision was blurry. The room was the same as before but more disheveled. Kaminari was gone as well as the two villains but the ‘bakusquad’ decoys were still in place on their chairs despite some of them being tipped over. He made his way over and fixed them. They might not be the real things but it felt like the right thing to do if not a little weird. After that he sat back in his scorched chair and moved to scratch his neck. Instead of the usual satisfaction, he got a horrible scratching sound that sounded more like nails on metal than skin. 

Maybe it was nails on metal. He lifted his hand and stared at it. It felt off. He tapped at it with his other hand and it confirmed his theory. Why was his skin metal? Then it clicked.

He did die.

Or he was on his way there. Now he was some kind of robot - effectively rendering him quirkless. As a test he tried moving his arms in windmills. At least his limbs could still rotate freely. However that was still a problem - the villains had no doubt done this to him. Why would they have gone to such lengths for him if they weren’t going to use him for something sinister? He had to get out of here.

Easier said than done. The room had one set of doors leading out into what would only cause trouble and the rest of the room was pure white. He stood up and stared running his hands across the walls. Smooth as paper. Something caught his eye as he moved away. High in the corner of the wall was something sticking out slightly. It took him a moment to push a chair towards it to inspect it further.

It was the same white as the rest of the walls and mostly the same texture. There was a slight dip if he ran his fingers across it slowly enough. A split second later, his fist had punched a hole that split the material like paper. He smiled as he moved to rip the rest of it off. At least the metal made up for his lost strength. His fist had opened up what appeared to be a ventilation system just big enough for him to fit into and he readily climbed inside.

As he crawled through, he was expecting to be caught at any second - escaping wasnt supposed to be this easy - but he came across no adversaries. After climbing for what felt like forever, he could hear voices below him. He tried to make as little noise as possible as he peaked through the tiny slits of the vent opening.

He could see the masked man from before accompanied by Magne in-front of a similar device that had held Kaminari. He couldn’t see who was in the device before he spotted long skin coloured trails dangling from their approximate ears and his heart stopped. That was unmistakably Jirou. He glanced down at his fists but decided against it. He’d just get them both into more trouble against the two villains. The masked man gave a similar speech to her before forcibly plugging her jacks into something. Every second or so a chair would vibrate heavily until most of the chairs in his vision were vibrating. All of a sudden they stopped and he heard the masked man clap. She must have succeeded - something that made him frown. He congratulates her before wheeling the chairs out. The door slams shut after all the chairs are gone.

He can clearly see her face now - clammy and pale with a bit of blood leaking from her earlobes. He listens for a moment to make sure the villains have left before punching the vent open. Jirou jumps as he lands on the floor. 

“You’re here to?” She says as he walks towards her and wipes the blood with his shirt before gently removing her earlobes from the device they’re plugged in. He nods and gestures to the straps.

“Anyway to get these off you?” She shakes her head at first before her eyes widen. He watches as she uses her earlobes to saw through the material two at a time. She grins at him as she steps cautiously out of the device rubbing at her arms. The red marks on them and her legs don’t look good. 

“Well that worked. Now what?” He points to the vent and to a chair and she grins. “Gotcha.” They make quick work of getting out of the room and before he knows it he’s back in the vents. “What happened to you dude?” He looks behind to see Jirou pointing at his knees. A seam from the metal is prominent there and he looks at her. 

“Would you believe me if I said I died?” Her mouth falls open before she adjusts it into a frown. 

“Not really but what else explains it I guess.” She shrugs a much as she can in the cramped vents before sticking a jack into the vent. “Theres not a lot of guards patrolling. Nor any alarms. Guess they haven't realised we’ve gotten out.” 

“Any indications to an exit?” 

She listens for a moment before giving him a thumbs up. “I’ve heard some complaints of the smell from the room the guards are patrolling below. It should lead into a sewer of some sorts so the vents should lead us right into safety.” He gives her a thumbs up and he crawls until he finds his hands are no longer touching metal as he falls face first with a bang onto a lower vent. He looks up to see Jirou’s concerned face and be gives her a thumbs up. Thankfully he can’t feel pain anymore. Or smell for that matter as he looks around the room he’s landed in.

It is indeed a sewer filled to the brim with garbage of all types - predominately technology with cables and wires trailing the floor dangerously. He rolls off the vent and calls up to Jirou that it’s safe. She jumps down a second later and wobbles slightly before joining him. The wall behind the vent is solid rock so they set off straight ahead. It doesn't take long for the path to start diverting so Jirou uses her jacks to try and find the correct path. He tries to be useful by clearing the path ahead where need be but apart from that Jirou leads the way confidently. They try and make small talk along the way but apart from that they walk in silence. He learns that she had no recollection of the events that has happened prior to her being kidnapped but she had mostly been forced to use her sound-waves for something she couldn’t see. She hadn’t seen the masked man before the russian roulette and the same concept had been used with the friend robots. In return, he tells her about his experience in Kaminari’s russian roulette and the whole dying thing. She cringes slightly and puts a hand on his shoulder. 

“That sounds rough. I’m sorry. We’ll get through this I promise.” She crushes him in a hug and he does the same - making sure to not actually crush her in the process. 

The rest of their journey was mostly uneventful apart from how mind numbingly boring it was before they came out in the middle of Sumida River as the sun starts to set. They’re both relieved to be out of the sewer but it’s even more of a relief that they’re barely an hour away from the dorms. It’s still a long walk but he had been beginning to fear that they weren’t even in Tokyo anymore. They chat as they walk, gripping each others hand tightly ti make sure they don’t get separated. The time flies and he gets his key out to open the dorm door. He doesn’t expect anyone to be awake this late but to his surprise two figures are lying on the coaches on their phones. Jirou closes the door as he stands their awkwardly as one of them waves. “Hey guys.” 

“Not surprised you’re up Shinsou.” Jirou rolls her eyes as she starts to walk up the stairs to her room. “Stay safe Kirishima.” Shinsou glares after her and smiles slightly at him. 

“Hey dude. You look like shit.” 

“Be nice Shinsou.” The other person lowers his phone and his eyes widen in shock as he scans Kirishima head to toe. “Shit dude what happened to you? You’re covered in garbage!” 

“‘Be nice Shinsou’ - you’re so full of shit Ojiro.” The two glare at each other and he rolls his eyes. Neither had really forgotten the sports festival. Ojiro gets up and starts to pull garbage off him. 

“So what happened?” He contemplates lying before shrugging. It was way after midnight and he could trust them not to blab. 

“Died and had to walk through a sewer.” 

Shinsou nods in agreement before taking a double take. “You’re serious?!” He nods back and Ojiro just continues to take off garbage. 

“That explains the metal skin I guess. How the fuck did you manage to die and just come back though? That’s pretty out there.”

”Villain’s I guess? Technically Kaminari but there was this guy in a mask who forced him to do i-“ Ojiro’s grip on him tightens and he starts to pull him into the kitchen as Shinsou follows close behind. He starts to mutter his breath before pulling out his phone again and shoving it in his face. It takes a moment for the words on the screen to sink in but all of them chill him to the bone. “When did you get this?”

”Yesterday evening. I’ve been trying to figure out what to do about it but I doubted that anyone would do anything since Kaminari’s still here b-“ He grabs Ojiro’s shoulders and shakes him. 

“We need to get a teacher. This calls for a rescue mission.”