The classroom buzzed with a mix of excitement and nervous energy as Aizawa stood at the front, his usual tired expression masking the gravity of the situation. Midoriya sat at his desk, his notebook open and his pencil flying across the page as he scribbled down notes.
The words Hero's Eve were circled at the top of the page, surrounded by question marks and exclamation points.
Aizawa cleared his throat, and the room fell silent. "As you all know," he began, his voice low and measured, "Hero's Eve is still happening. Despite the risks, it will proceed. That means we'll be doing our part to ensure the event runs smoothly and safely."
Midoriya's head snapped up, his green eyes wide. He glanced around the room, catching the varied reactions of his classmates. Uraraka leaned forward, her hands clasped in excitement, while Iida sat rigidly, his glasses glinting as he nodded in approval. Bakugou, seated near the window, slouched in his chair, his arms crossed and his expression unreadable.
Aizawa continued, "You'll be working in groups, assigned to different tasks. Some of you will be setting up stalls, selling merchandise, and interacting with the public. Others will be delivering gift baskets to charities and orphanages. This is a chance to show the public that heroes are more than just fighters, we're here to inspire and support."
"The groups you will be assigned to here will be the groups you are assigned to on the day."
The room erupted in chatter. Kaminari raised his hand, a grin spreading on his face. "So we're basically doing community service but, like, with a hero twist? That sounds awesome!"
"Exactly," Aizawa said, his tone dry. "But don't underestimate the importance of this. The public's trust in heroes has been shaken. This is an opportunity to rebuild that trust."
Midoriya's pencil paused as he processed the information. His mind raced, recalling the times he and his mother had volunteered at local charities when he was younger. He remembered the smiles on the children's faces when they received gifts, the way it made him feel like he was making a difference, even without a quirk. Now, as a hero in training, he could do even more.
Uraraka turned to him, her eyes sparkling. "Izuku, isn't this great? We'll get to meet so many people and make them smile!"
Midoriya nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah, it's like... we're not just fighting villains. We're showing people what heroes really stand for."
Iida adjusted his glasses, his voice firm. "This is a crucial responsibility. We must approach it with the utmost professionalism and dedication."
Kirishima leaned back in his chair, his sharp teeth gleaming as he grinned. "I'm pumped! This is gonna be so manly. Plus, it'll be nice to do something that doesn't involve getting punched in the face for once!"
The class laughed, the tension easing slightly. Even Bakugou let out a low scoff, though he didn't contribute to the conversation. Midoriya glanced at him, noting the way his shoulders were tense, his crimson eyes fixed on the window. He wondered what it was he was put through, he wouldn't ask though, it could be something too personal. Plus, they hadn't really been on talking terms for so long.
Aizawa held up a hand, silencing the room. "I'll be assigning groups shortly. Each group will have specific tasks, and you'll be expected to work together seamlessly. This isn't just about looking good, it's about proving that heroes can be a force for good, especially in the times to come."
Midoriya's pencil moved again, jotting down ideas for how to make the most of the opportunity. He thought about the children at the orphanages, the ones who looked up to heroes like All Might. He wanted to inspire them, to show them that heroes weren't just symbols of strength but also of kindness and hope.
As Aizawa began listing the groups, Midoriya found himself paired with Uraraka, Iida and Todoroki. He couldn't help but smile at the thought of working with his friends. Uraraka clapped her hands together, her excitement palpable. "This is going to be so much fun! We'll make the best team ever!"
Todoroki, seated nearby, gave a small nod. "Its a good opportunity to connect with the public. I'm looking forward to it."
Iida adjusted his tie, his expression serious. "We must ensure that our actions reflect the values of U.A. and the hero community as a whole."
Midoriya nodded, his mind already racing with ideas. "We could organize a small event at the orphanage, maybe even some mini showcase of our quirks, or why we chose the costumes we did, or out quirks, or a Q&A session. They'd love it."
Uraraka's eyes lit up. "That's a great idea, Izuku! Maybe we could even get miniature versions of our costumes made and give them out."
It was something that would make them feel included. Under law, students of UA, even though they had hero names and costumes, were not allowed to profit from their names until they had finished school and were out doing hero work. The only monetary gain was from events like the sports festival.
As the class continued to discuss their plans, Midoriya felt a surge of determination. This was more than just a task, it was a chance to remind the people why heroes mattered.
Aizawa's voice cut through his thoughts. "Remember, this isn't just about appearances. Its about proving that heroes can make a difference, even in small ways. Don't underestimate the impact you all have."
***
The room was dark, lit only by the faint glow of a lamp. The air was thick with the scent of aged wood and the faint metallic tang of machinery. In the center of the room, All For One sat, his massive frame dwarfing the chair beneath him. His hands, scarred and weathered, moved with surprising grace as they plucked at the strings of a banjo, the notes soft and haunting.
The melody was slow, it sounded mournful, but there was an undercurrent of triumph in the way he played. His head was tilted slightly, his sightless eyes staring into the void as if he could see the future unfolding before him. A faint smile played on his lips, the kind of smile that spoke of secrets and satisfaction.
"Ah, the strings of fate." he murmured, his voice deep and resonant, filling the room like a low rumble of thunder. "They twist and turn, weaving a tapestry of chaos and order. And yet, they always find their way back to me."
He plucked another note, the sound lingering in the air like a whisper. "Hero society, that fragile construct, built on the backs of the weak and the naive. How quickly it crumbles when the foundation is shaken. How swiftly it falls when the puppeteer pulls the strings."
His fingers moved faster now, the melody shifting, becoming more urgent, more deliberate. "I must admit, I underestimated the speed at which it would unravel. The cracks were always there, hidden beneath the surface, but now... now they spread like wildfire. And I? I am the spark."
He chuckled, the sound low and menacing. "All Might, my old friend, you thought you had won. You thought your victory would be eternal. But time, as they say, is the great equalizer. And time has not been kind to you."
The banjo's tempo increased, the notes sharp and staccato, like the beating of a war drum. "The League, my dear Shigaraki, they have turned out to be great players in this game. They play their parts so beautifully. Each move, Each strike, brings us closer to the endgame. The heroes scramble, desperate to hold onto their crumbling empire, but they are blind to the truth."
He paused, his fingers hovering over the strings, the room falling into silence. "The truth is, they never stood a chance. From the moment I rose from the ashes of our last battle, I knew. I knew that their time was limited. That their symbols of peace would become a statue of failure."
He began to play again, the melody slower now, more deliberate, each note heavy with meaning. "And now, as the final act approaches, I find myself... content. The pieces are in place, the stage is set. All that remains is to watch the curtain fall."
His smile widened, a dark, predatory thing. "Hero's Eve. What a fitting title for the end of an era. The heroes will gather, their smiles brittle, their hearts heavy with doubt. And I? I will be there, seen in a new era, a new light and heard in the present. The architect of their downfall."
He plucked a final note, the sound echoing in the stillness of the room. "The future is mine to shape. The strings of fate are mine to pull. And soon, very soon, the world will see the truth. That heroes are nothing more than a fleeting dream, and I... I am the reality."
The banjo fell silent, the last note fading into the darkness. All For One leaned back in his chair, his expression one of quiet satisfaction. The future was bright, not with hope, but with the promise of chaos. And he would be there to guide it.
First, he just needed to claim his victory.
***
The pond was still, its surface a perfect mirror reflecting the pale blue sky above. I crouched by the water's edge, a smooth, flat stone resting between my fingers. With a flick of my wrist, I sent it skipping across the surface, the stone bouncing once, twice, three times before sinking into the depths.
The ripples spread outward, distorting the reflection of the trees and the clouds.
I picked up another stone, turning it over in my hand. It was a simple thing, this act of skipping stones, but there was something calming about it. Something grounding. The world felt heavy lately, and this small, mundane act was a simple way to push back, even if just for a moment.
I was about to throw the next stone when I heard the crunch of footsteps behind me. I turned, my hand tightening instinctively, but it was just a kid, a boy, no older than ten, with messy black hair and wide, curious eyes.
He was holding a stone of his own, his expression a mix of determination and uncertainty.
"Can I try?" he asked, his voice tentative.
I hesitated for a moment, then nodded, stepping aside to make room for him. "Sure. Just make sure the stone's flat and smooth. Like this." I held up the stone in my hand, showing him the shape.
The kid nodded, his brow furrowing in concentration as he searched the ground for a suitable stone. He picked one up, examined it, then tossed it into the water with a clumsy throw. It hit the surface with a loud plop and sank immediately.
He frowned, his shoulders slumping. "I'm no good huh?"
"Don't give up on it that easily." I said, crouching down beside him. "It's all in the wrist. Here, let me show you."
I picked up another stone, holding it out to him. "Hold it like this, between your thumb and forefinger. Then, when you throw it, flick your wrist like this." I demonstrated the motion, slow and deliberate.
The kid watched intently, then mimicked the motion with his own stone. This time, when he threw it, the stone skipped once before sinking. His face lit up with a grin. "I did it."
"Good job." I said, a small smile tugging at my lips. "Now try again. See if you can get it to skip more than once."
He nodded eagerly, searching for another stone. As he practised, I found myself watching him, my mind drifting. This kid, this moment, it was so simple, so pure. It reminded me of a time before all of this, before the Eden Project, before stepping into the world as the villain known as Soryu, before joining the Meta Liberation Army. A time where the world felt smaller and safer.
But the world wasn't small nor safe. And people like Destro, people who claimed to want freedom, who spoke of liberation and change, they were the ones making it worse. I thought about his ideology, about his freedom of quirk usage. On the surface, it may sound liberating and it is something people can easily get behind.
Cause why not? Why shouldn't people be allowed to use what they were born with? Why shouldn't they be allowed to express themselves? And for the mutants, his plans would allow for them to continually live without the fear of persecution.
But then I think about the reality of it. The lives that would be ruined in getting to such a point. I look at the kid beside me, about what his life would be like in a world where quirks were unchecked. Would he be safe? Would he be happy? Or would he be just another casualty in Destro's grand vision?
The kid threw another stone, this time getting it to skip twice. He turned to me, his grin widening. "Did you see that? Two skips!"
"Yeah, I saw," I said, my voice softer than I intended. "You're getting better."
He beamed, then went back to searching for more stones. I watched him for a moment, then turned my gaze back to the pond. The water was still again, the ripples from his last throw fading into nothingness.
Destro's ideology had its good sides, or at least sides that I personally liked. The idea of freely using your quirk as you please, it's appealing to anyone. But it was also dangerous. The freedom to use quirks without restriction sounded great in theory, but in practise it had already been done during the era where quirks were new.
Although it was done on a much larger scale. People weren't ready for that kind of freedom. They weren't responsible enough. And the ones who would suffer the most would be the ones who couldn't defend themselves, people like this kid right in front of me.
I thought about the attacks that the League had been doing, they were small and weren't focused on casualties, that didn't mean they cared to restrain themselves. And then there was the attack on Hero's Eve, Destro spoke about liberation, but all I could see in his vision was destruction. There wouldn't be freedom, just control. He wanted to topple hero society and create a new world order.
That wouldn't benefit people like me. Nor would it benefit the majority, the majority are in need of protection. And he wouldn't offer such.
The kid threw another stone, this time getting it to skip three times. He turned to me, his eyes shinning with pride. "Three skips! I'm getting good at this!"
"Yeah, you are," I said, forcing a smile.
The water was still again.
Destro's ideology was flawed. It was dangerous. And he was someone that had to be stopped. Whether by me or someone else.
I didn't think that because I wanted hero society or even the status quo needed to be protected, but because I wanted to protect people like this kid. People who deserved a chance to live in a world that wasn't torn apart by chaos and destruction.
If it got to that then things would start looking hopeless.
But as long as there was even one kid like this, who could find joy in something as simple as skipping a stone, there was still something worth fighting for.
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