The flashing neon lights of the city blurred as we strolled hand-in-hand, the lingering afterglow of a surprisingly lovely evening still clinging to us. Shinso and I had just left a small, out-of-the-way ramen shop – one of his favorite places. I never expected to enjoy eating with someone.
Then, a familiar heat prickled at the back of my neck. Instinct screamed danger.
"Shinso, now!" I yelled, igniting my quirk. Dark tendrils of black fire swirled around my forearms, ready to strike.
Too late.
A deafening explosion ripped through the night, throwing us both off our feet. I landed hard, the taste of blood filling my mouth. The alleyway we were in became a battleground, awash in blinding light and the stench of ozone.
Bakugo stood at the head of a contingent of heroes, his eyes blazing with a familiar, possessive fury. Shoto, Uraraka, Iida, Momo, Tsuyu – the whole damn class was here. It was a full-scale ambush.
"Deku!" Bakugo roared, launching himself forward, explosions detonating in his palms. "You think you can just waltz around like nothing happened? Associating with scum like him?!"
Shinso shoved me out of the way, taking the brunt of the blast. He cried out, clutching his arm. My blood ran cold.
"Get out of here, Izuku!" Shinso yelled, activating his Brainwashing quirk. He focused on a few of the lesser heroes, buying us precious seconds.
Rage, raw and unrestrained, surged through me, fueling my flames. My fire turned a wicked, obsidian black, the heat searing the air around me. This was different. This wasn't strategy, it was pure, unadulterated fury.
"You shouldn't have done that, Kacchan," I growled, my voice a distorted rasp.
The battle was brutal. I fought with a ferocity I rarely unleashed, the black flames an extension of my burning rage. Shoto's ice was neutralized instantly, vaporized by the intense heat. Uraraka's attempts to make me float were met with blasts of concentrated fire, forcing her to retreat. Iida's speed was an advantage, but I was able to predict his movements, anticipating his attacks.
But they were relentless. Bakugo, driven by his irrational jealousy, was a whirlwind of explosions. Momo created shields and weapons, constantly adapting to my attacks. Tsuyu's tongue lashed out, attempting to bind me.
Shinso, despite his injury, held his own. His Brainwashing quirk proved surprisingly effective, creating pockets of confusion and discord among the heroes. But he was visibly weakening, his face pale with pain.
A searing pain bloomed in my side. I stumbled, glancing down to see a clean bullet wound. Bakugo. He'd purposefully aimed for me. I gritted my teeth, ignoring the burning sensation.
We were losing.
Just as I was about to unleash a devastating blast of black fire, a voice cut through the chaos.
"Enough!"
Kurogiri appeared, his misty form solidifying in the middle of the alley. His eyes, normally distant, were filled with a deep weariness. "Young Master, we must leave. Now."
I hesitated, torn between fighting to the bitter end and protecting Shinso. I looked over at Shinso, who was leaning heavily against a wall, his face streaked with sweat and grime. He nodded weakly.
"Go, Izuku. I'll be alright. Trust Kurogiri."
With a final, hateful glare at Bakugo, I grabbed Shinso, and Kurogiri enveloped us in his warp gate. The alleyway, filled with the sounds of battle, vanished.