The gymnasium of Aldera Junior High was hollow now, stripped of its bleachers, its polished floors scuffed and dull. Shoma Karasuma stood in the center, his shadow stretching long under the crappy dull lights with flies buzzing in them.
His neck, always too long, too flexible, craned slightly as he surveyed the emptiness.
"Pathetic," he thought, though he wasn't sure if he meant the school or himself.
Aldera had been strangely shut down after their class had graduated, some scandal or something, Shoma didn't care. He hadn't kept touch with anyone. No, most of the people there were just leeches, he was too. A leech that clung to the shadow of the strong, the ones on top.
Yet here he was.
His phone buzzed in his pocket. He didn't need to check it again, just another ping in that damned group chat. Someone had added him a week ago, a message popping up with an eerie simplicity.
"Aldera Reunion. Please Be There. 8PM"
No signature. No explanation. Half the names in the chat were hidden behind burner ID's, but he recognized a few, former classmates, former tormentors. He'd almost left immediately.
But he wondered. Would he come?
Midoriya. The kid they'd all treated like garbage. The kid who'd somehow ended up at UA anyway, who'd fought on national TV, who was going the right direction in life, he won. The kid who, last Shoma had seen him, was being rushed to a hospital during the game in Hosu that some psycho villain dropped them all in.
Shoma remembered speaking to some pink cheeked girl who lashed out and screamed at him for how he spoke about Midoriya. Speaking down on him like he always had. It had always worked before.
Shoma exhaled, long and slow, and reached into his jacket. The folded note was crumpled at the edges, the paper soft from how many times he had taken it out, read it, shoved it back in like it burned him.
He unfolded it. Cleared his throat.
"Hey Midoriya."
His voice echoed in the empty gym. It sounded stupid. Too casual. Like they were friends.
He tried again, lower and sharper.
"I'm not good at this. But I guess I owe you and apology."
A pause. His fingers tightened on the paper.
"I was a leech. I did shit to you because it made me feel bigger. Because Bakugou did it, so did everybody else. I just wanted to be close to that power. And it was just easy to do so."
His neck twitched, an old habit, stretching slightly, like he was peering over someone's shoulder, judging, mocking. He forced it still.
"I saw you at the sports festival. You were... different. Not the same wimp I pushed around. You had a quirk, a powerful one too. And I thought, 'Huh. Guess he wasn't worthless after all.'" He grimaced. "Yeah. I know how that sounds."
The next part was harder. The girl, he never got her name, her face flashed in his mind, tear-stricken and furious.
"I pissed off your friend. She yelled at me. Called me a coward too I think. She wasn't wrong." He swallowed. "I don't know if I feel sorry. But I know it was wrong. So. Yeah."
He stared at the words. They were inadequate. They always would be.
Outside, the wind rattled the gym doors. No one had come. Shoma folded the note again, shoved it back in his pocket and turned to leave.
The gym doors creaked open, one by one, and people began to trickle in.
Shoma Karasuma watched them with detached curiosity, former classmates, faces he recognized but names he'd half-forgotten. There was Tanaka, who used to trip Midoriya in the hallways. Suzuki, who'd "accidentally" spill ink on his notes. And Nakamura, who'd laughed the loudest whenever Bakugou so much as made him flinch.
They greeted each other with stiff smiles, the kind that didn't reach their eyes.
"Man its been forever!" someone said, clapping another on the back.
"Yeah, crazy how time flies. Feels like just yesterday we were stuck in this dump."
A few chuckled. Shoma didn't.
They grouped together in loose clusters, exchanging small talk, jobs, schools, the usual. Then, inevitably, the conversation shifted.
"You see the news? Another villain attack downtown."
"Yeah its getting bad again. And it wasn't even so long since the last one. Feels like the world is going to hell."
"At least we're still all standing right.?"
A murmur of agreement. Shoma's fingers twitched toward the note in his pocket.
Then, a glance around.
"Hey... where's Bakugou?"
A snort. "You really think he'd show up to this? Guy probably didn't even look back once UA accepted him. Wouldn't be surprised if he didn't even know this place was shut down."
"True. He usually had his eyes on the prize."
A pause and then a smirk,
"What about Midoriya?"
Laughter, sharp and mocking.
"No way that loser's coming."
"Dude, did you see him at the sports festival? How the hell did he even get into UA?"
"And since when did he have a quirk?"
"Probably cheated. Doubt he'll last."
Shoma's neck stiffened.
"You should stop talking about him like that." The words left his mouth before he could stop them. The group turned, eyebrows raised.
"What, you defending him now, Karasuma?" Tanaka sneered.
Shoma's fingers curled. "I'm saying we went too far. It was dumb. Move on." It was more than dumb, it almost felt a little manic looking back on it. Even now, when Midoriya's name was brought up everybody seemed a little animalistic.
Silence followed his words. Then, to his surprise, a few nods.
"... He was treated like shit."
"Yeah, some of the stuff we did was messed up."
"Not me, though. I barely did anything."
"Bullshit. You laughed every time Bakugou blew up at him."
"And since when was laughing a crime? You can't place yourself on a high horse when you forced him to sit on pins when he knocked you out in dodgeball!"
"Oh like you're innocent?"
The room oddly erupted into arguments. Voices overlapping, fingers pointing, blame shifting.
"If anyone's responsible, it's Bakugou! He knew him since they were kids and still treated him the way he did. He made his life hell."
"Yeah. He set the tone. We kind of just followed, he was the leader, he was at the top of everything."
Shoma's stomach twisted. Hypocrites.
!!
A single rattling breath.
The doors swung open.
An old man stood in the doorway, hunched over a walking stick. His smile was too wide, his eyes too bright.
"My, my. What a lively discussion."
The room fell silent.
Shoma didn't know who he was. He didn't recognize him as one of the teachers or anything.
The old man shuffled forward, his steps uneven. "I couldn't help but overhear. Such silly concerns."
"Who the hell are you?" Nakamura snapped.
The elder man chuckled, a wet, wheezing sound. "Oh, just an observer. But I must say, all this guilt over young Midoriya? Unnecessary."
He tapped his cane against the floor. "If anything, you did him a favour. Bullying? Hardship? It tempers the weak! He should be thanking you!"
A beat. Then...
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Suzuki shouted.
"Yeah, who even are you? Get the fuck out!"
The old man sighed, as if disappointed by children. "So ungrateful. No wonder why my grandson ended up the way he was. What a waste!" he paused. "And after everything I have done for you all."
Shoma's breath hitched. Done for us?
The man's grin widened. "I'm so glad... the living members of your class could make it."
A chill swept through the room.
"Alive... for so long..." the man mused, almost to himself. "But now, I need a new batch."
"A new batch of what?" Tanaka demanded.
Then... a gasp.
"Wait... I know you. You're..."
"Dr. Tsubasa," a girl whispered.
The old man sighed. "Ujiko, now. But names are irrelevant."
He reached in his coat.
Shoma's heart stopped.
The button was small. Black. Unassuming.
Ujiko held it up like a prize.
"Goodbye, children."
He pressed it.
For a second, nothing happened.
Then the screaming started.
Tanaka was the first. His back arched, his skin rippling like something beneath was trying to claw its way out. His fingers twisted, bones snapping and reforming into jagged claws.
Nakamura collapsed, his jaw unhinging with a wet crack, his teeth sharpening into fangs. His eyes rolled back, pupils dilating into black voids.
Suzuki's skin split, muscle fibers bursting through like grotesque vines. His screams turned guttural, inhuman.
Shoma stumbled back, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His neck burned, his quirk recoiling as if trying to escape his own body.
"N.. No...!"
He clutched his chest. Something was moving inside him. Growing.
Ujiko watched, delighted. "Ah yes. The Nomu process is always so... artistic."
Shoma's vision blurred. His thoughts shattered into fragments...
Midoriya's face in the hospital.
The crying girl he angered.
The note in his pocket.
The pain, it was white-hot and consuming.
His neck lengthened against his will, tendons snapping and reforming. His bones cracked, his skin darkening into a leathery hide.
No. No no no...
Around him, his classmates twisted, their bodies morphing into grotesque parodies of themselves. Some grew wings, others extra limbs, all of them hollowed out, their minds erased.
Ujiko clapped his hands. "Marvelous! My master's school was such a wonderful idea. So many test subjects..."
Shoma tried to scream. Only a gurgle came out.
The doctor tilted his head. "Oh? You're still trying to fight it? How... quaint."
He stepped closer, his breath reeking of formaldehyde. "You blamed Bakugou for your cruelty. How hypocritical. Society allowed it. Encouraged it."
A chuckle. "But don't worry. You'll be more useful now. And if you truly want to blame Katsuki Bakugou, you will all have the chance to pay him back."
Shoma's body locked up. His thoughts faded.
The last thing he saw...
His note, fluttering behind the bleachers, forgotten.
The last thing he heard,
Ujiko's cheerful hum. "Time to go, my little Nomu."
Black portals swallowed them all.
Then,
Silence.
***
Death arms felt that he was a great hero. Well, he felt he was great ten months ago. He had done more, he was capable of more, and he saved more.
But then it all turned to shit. First there was the villain Soryu, sure Death arms had no interactions with the child, but he had been close some times and he thought that he could have a chance against him if he was ever put in front of him, he was just a kid.
But then he seen what that "kid" could do against a villain like Abyss. A villain that even their nations number 2 hero struggled to throw in Tartarus.
Death arms slowly felt less capable. And that only ramped up when Proxy showed himself more. Death arms watched on as heroes like a Hawks and All Might would report how the man was evasive and strong in his own ways.
It hurt his ego, it hurt that it felt like there was less and less he could do. All of these incidents raked his brain, he let it dive too deep into his mind, and then he failed.
Two weeks ago when he was chasing down a villain he completely missed out on his duty to protect the civilians. A poor old man received a bad hit to the head.
He was still alive thankfully but what did that matter. Death arms lost the villain and he along with many heroes were losing the trust of the civilians.
And now, after what he had just seen, he deeply considered retirement.
He was out on the night shift, he received complaints of school kids rushing off to an abandoned school. He thought he would check it out, and so he did.
But when he got there all he heard were screams.
He peeked inside the building through a crack in the wall. And what he seen made his heart jump. Children. Human children had all turned to Nomu, and in front of them was someone he couldn't even see, a short man, he guessed, that was turned around as all of them escaped into a portal.
Death Arms was stood still in fear.
There was no way he could step in, so he just watched as all the children screamed, letting out tears and their own fear-stricken shouts. And Death Arms, the hero, just watched it all happen.
He was no hero. He wore the mask, but when he started it wasn't a mask. He was full of pointless pride and a great hope for the future.
But how couldn't he?
It was... easier.
It was much easier, organized crime had just spiked all of a sudden, villains had escaped from all prisons within the country because of Proxy. Its not just handbag thief's or simple ruffians. It was cold-hearted villains that are all plotting.
All plotting to fight against heroes, cowards like Death Arms.
Seeing all of what has been happening recently... he wants to quit. He wants to quit and get far away from the danger.
He is scared and he doesn't know what to do.
The wind rushed past him and he could hear the ruffling of paper caught stuck between metal bars.
He picked it up and flipped it over. After glancing it over he noticed it was a letter that was meant for someone named Midoriya.
"I'll report it."
He'll do his duty as a hero. More than that even.
Death Arms will continue to play this hero game for the rest of the year, there were only a couple weeks until the new year anyway.
That would be long enough for him to find out if he had any hope, or love left for this profession or if he should hand in his notice and pack up and leave.
So until those weeks were up, he will continue to fulfill his role.