Fractured Wings

The warm air nipped at my face as we stepped into the underground of the main base through the underground tunnels of Deika city. 

It took more than a day to get back since we were travelling slowly to avoid hero inspection. It was late evening, the kind where the skyline glowed faintly against the darker shades of night. The others were quiet, Lyra trailed behind us, her wrists bound loosely, but the faint tension in her shoulders told me she hadn't given up hope of escape. 

Arata led the way, his casual, steady stride giving no indication of the sharp mind I had come to meet behind his calm and welcoming demeanour. Beside him, Miku's fins fluttered slightly under her jacket with every step, an almost unconscious movement that mirrored her restlessness. Ren walked a step behind Lyra, her gaze fixed on the captive like she was measuring her worth. 

Nagant stayed beside me, her presence solid and unshakeable. I glanced at her briefly, she caught my eyes and gave me a faint nod. 

It was weird that other than her, I would consider myself one of the only normal people in this building, no... the city. The whole city made sure to be quiet about Destro but all of them were happily dancing to the tune of his ideology. 

Two guards met us at the door and escort us to the higher floors. Their eyes lingered on Lyra, their expressions unreadable. 

We were led to a large room, more like a hall, with a single figure seated at the far end. Destro. His presence filled the space, even as he sat, his hands clasped in front of him on the table. His gaze swept over us, and I felt it weigh on me longer than it did the others. 

"Welcome back," he said, his voice smooth and commanding. "I trust the mission went well?" 

Arata stepped forward, his tone as composed as ever. "Yes. Lyra was secured without much of an issue, even though we were up against some pretty notable heroes like Best Jeanist and Kamui Woods." He gestured to Lyra lightly. She stood between us, her expression was defiant and wary. 

"Excellent work!" Destro congratulated. "And even slipping past one of the heroes on the top ten and the other a quick and rising star." 

Arata stepped up to speak again. "Yeah, and I let Soryu lead the mission, he got us in and out fast." 

Destro's smile became weird and slightly perversive. 

"Excellent. You're proving to be a valuable asset." 

I didn't respond immediately, unsure of what to say. The praise felt... off. Nagant, as always remained unreadable. She inclined her head slightly in acknowledgement that followed to her as well. I followed her lead and gave a quick nod. 

"Lyra." Destro said, his tone taking on an edge of satisfaction. "It's good to meet you. Though I imagine the circumstances are less ideal for you." 

She didn't reply, her jaw tightening as she held his gaze. There was a strength in silence, the feeling of control even when you're bound. 

"Take her to the waiting room," Destro instructed, his attention shifting back to us. "We'll deal with the next steps shortly. For now, let her stew. Let her have her time to herself." 

Ren stepped forward immediately, her hand brushing Lyra's shoulder to guide her toward the door. Miku followed, her fins shifting slightly as if sensing the tension in the air. I watched them go, a strange sense of finality settled over me. 

I don't know... I've felt a lot more tired than usual. 

As the door closed behind them, Destro's attention returned to the four of us remaining. "You've done well." he repeated. "Nagant, Kobe. You two are integrating into the Army more seamlessly than I expected. It's good to see." 

"Just doing our part." Nagant replied smoothly, her voice carrying that unwavering confidence I was beginning to admire, or maybe envy. 

"Good. Adaptability is key here. We value those who can think, who can adjust. And you've shown both." He nodded, showing satisfaction across his features. 

"Thank you." I said. 

We left the room in silence. 

My mind thought on the comfortability of the organization that was washing over me. I didn't like it. I wanted to leave now. But I know eyes are on me at all times. I'll be chased, maybe dragged back, or maybe killed. 

I wasn't too scared of that. But I just didn't want to lose myself among these lunatics. 

I still had things to do. What happens to me after, don't really matter. 

Actually. One of those things that I needed to do was find a computer I could use where my activity couldn't be easily and quickly traced by that freak Skeptic. 

Reason being, that during the final part of those games, after Nagant and I killed Nine, I was able to procure that USB. And it didn't disappear like I thought it would. Instead it was still left in my position.

I was feeling a tug pull at me constantly to know what is on that USB stick. 

____

Nejire Hado and Yuki Arakawa lay sprawled across the cracked concrete, the air heavy with the aftermath of their battle. Akari Mitsuhara stood in the center of the wreckage. Her golf eyes were filled with the look of a playful sadist. Those eyes settled on Yuki. Akari tilted her head and her gaze was filled with nothing but curiosity. 

"You're really nothing like him. Even though I can teleport, getting a hit on him was super hard. But you on the other hand..." Akari stated, her tone seemed like she was asking why, asking why Yuki was so weak. "... Or maybe I've just gotten stronger since then." 

Yuki groaned clutching her side as she struggled to sit up. Nearby, Nejire pushed herself to her hands and knees, her demeanour was exhausted. Akari's eyes flickered to her for a moment before going back to Yuki, who was glaring at her despite the pain etched on her face. 

"How do you know my brother?" Yuki asked, her voice was laced with anger. She reached out, her fingers brushing against a jagged piece of debris, wanting to use her quirk. Akari had already seen how she had used it. 

Akari blinked once, almost lazily, before disappearing from her spot and reappearing in an instant. Her foot came down firmly on Yuki's hand, pinning it to the ground. Yuki gasped in pain, her head jerking upward to meet Akari's gaze. 

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Akari said, her tone devoid of malice but it seemed as if she was trying to sound like a voice of authority. "As for Ko-chan... he's just a friend." 

Yuki's brow furrowed in confusion. "A friend? Since when? Kobe..." she stumped, struggling to piece together words to spit out to Akari. Words to help her figure out this stranger. "Kobe doesn't have friends." 

Akari chuckled, she smiled faintly, though it didn't reach her eyes. She stepped back, removing her foot from Yuki's hand, and folded her arms across her chest. "I doubt he has many, but that's fine, since I'm his friend. But he's also someone I once admired." She answered. 

Nejire having regained some strength, staggered to her feet, her eyes filled with determination despite the light tremble in her limbs. "If Yuki's little brother is so great, then why are you hurting us?" She demanded, her voice rising in defiance. "What do you want from us?" 

Akari regarded Nejire with a mixture of amusement and indifference. "What I want has nothing to do with you," she said. "This isn't personal." 

"It feels personal," Yuki shot back, cradling her injured hand. "You show up out of nowhere, talk about my brother like he's some kind of legend and not some shitty brat, and then act like none of this matters. Who are you really?" 

Akari's expression darkened for a brief moment, a flicker of something unreadable passing her face. "I'm just a simple girl celebrating her birthday. I just wanted to see the type of person Ko-chan grew up with." 

Yuki's frustration boiled over. "You don't get to judge me based on my brother." 

Akari's lips curved into a faint, almost pitying smile. "You're right. I don't know you," she admitted. "But I know enough to see the difference between you and him. It's not an insult, just an observation." 

Akari continued looking down on Yuki, she didn't have anything more to say, she even ignored Nejire when she refuted Akari's words about Yuki. 

Akari stood staring for a long moment and was thinking to herself. 

She then gained a look of revelation. 

The silence was broken, by the sound of hurried footsteps echoing through the corridor. Akari's sharp hearing picked up on them before anyone else. She turned her head slightly, her gaze darting toward the entrance. 

The doors burst open, and three pro heroes ran in, Midnight, Vlad King and Eraserhead. Their eyes locked onto Akari in a quiet rage. 

"Stop right there!" Eraserhead barked, his capture weapon coiling around him in the air as his eyes started glowing red as he activated his quirk. 

Akari felt a weird sensation, she couldn't use her quirk. She had never been put under such a predicament before. The subtle hum of of power that coursed through her body disappeared, leaving her strangely hollow but unfazed. 

"Who are you?" Midnight demanded, her whip unfurling from her side. "Are you with the League of Villains?" 

Akari's lips curved into a smirk, her stance relaxed despite the clear threat posed by heroes. "The League? " she echoed, her tone light and mocking. "As if. I'm just a simple civilian." 

Her casual dismissal only heightened their tension. Vlad King stepped forward, his eyes narrowing. "You broke into this school and attacked students. That's not exactly civilian behaviour." 

Akari chuckled, her laugh soft but cutting. "Attacked? Oh no. I was just messing around and exploring a new wonder for my birthday." 

Eraserhead's gaze didn't waver, his voice cold and steady. "Enough games. Name and true reason for being here. Now!" 

She rolled her eyes but complied, if only to amuse herself. "Akari Mitsuhara." she said in mock formality as she gave them a small bow. 

The name landed like a thunderclap. Midnight's eyes widened slightly, recognition flashing across her face. "Mitsuhara... as in Hideaki Mitsuhara? The commission official?" 

"Yep. That's my dad." Akari's smile grew sharper. 

Midnight's expression hardened. "He was the one who went on about how heroes were becoming stagnant, that heroes were going to overpower us eventually. He was a nut, with all his crazy ideas. It's like he was rooting for mayhem." 

"No, no, you misunderstand. He didn't want mayhem. He predicted it. Big difference." Akari said laughing. 

Vlad King frowned, his hands tightening. "Doesn't matter who your father is. You broke into UA and assaulted students. That's not something we're going to overlook." 

Before anyone could respond further, Eraserhead's capture scarf tightened, and from the fabric emerged Nezu, who calmly perched on Aizawa's shoulder. The principal's demeanour was, as always, eerily cheerful. 

"Ah, Akari Mitsuhara." Nezu said with a polite wave. "You're father is on the phone in my office. He'd like to speak with you." 

Akari blinked, her surprise lasting only a moment before she acted out dramatically. "Damnit! How did he know where I was?" 

"The number three hero, Hawks was following you and told him." Nezu answered. 

She grinned, Hideaki was worried about her, even though he of all people would know how strong and capable she is. She was happy to hear that, she grinned. 

"Well, lead the way rat!" She pointed. 

As she stepped forward, both Eraserhead and Vlad King moved to block her path. "Nezu," Aizawa said firmly "this girl broke into the school and attacked some of your students. We need to follow some protocol." 

Nezu waved his paw dismissively. "Protocol can wait. Look at this as an opportunity to enhance our security measure. Besides," he added with a knowing smile, "she's not here to cause real harm." 

Akari turned back to the heroes, her grin wide and unapologetic. "You heard the boss. Let's not make this difficult." 

With that, she skipped ahead, following Nezu, her carefree demeanour completely at odds with the tension in the room. Aizawa and Vlad exchanged wary glances before reluctantly trailing behind, their unease palpable. 

As they disappeared, Midnight went over to help the two hero students to their feet. 

"You guys should head to Recovery Girl." She said. "Get whatever bruises you have checked out." 

Yuki spoke. "Is she really just going to walk out like that?" 

"Yeah, maybe. No one really knows what goes on in Nezu's head. But don't let this bad experience dwell on your mind." she said before giving the two a smile. "And come to us to give a proper report of what happened." 

____

The air was quiet in the small, sleepy town. The kind of place where time seemed to move slower, with narrow streets winding between wooden houses, weathered but sturdy. Inside a modest café tucked between a tailor's shop and an old bookstore. 

Daigo Kiyoshi sat at a corner table, his long coat draped neatly over the back of his chair. 

He brushed a few stray crumbs from his fingers, setting down his fork after the last bite of strawberry shortcake. The plate gleamed clean, save for a smear of cream and a lone, glistening strawberry seed. A smile graced his lips—not the wide, disconcerting smile that could unsettle even the bravest of souls, but a calm, practiced expression. For now. 

"Thank you for the meal," Daigo said as he approached the counter, sliding cash toward the elderly café owner. His voice was smooth, disarming in it's charm. 

The owner bowed, her hands wrinkled but steady as she took the money. "Come again, young man. Not many folks like you passing through these days." 

Daigo tipped his head. "I'll keep that in mind." 

As he stepped outside, the late afternoon sun bathed the street in a warm, golden light. The cobblestones glimmered faintly, polished by years of footsteps. A gentle breeze rustled through the sparse trees, carrying the faint scent of blooming flowers. 

Daigo's gaze swept lazily across the street before his eyes landed on an old woman struggling to maneuver a bulky sack of groceries. She paused near the curb, her frail frame trembling under the weight as she muttered to herself. 

With an exaggerated air of consideration, Daigo strolled over, his footsteps slow and deliberate. "Ma'am, let me help you with that," he offered, his smile now just a fraction wider, his teeth glinting in the sunlight. 

The woman looked up, startled but grateful. "Oh, thank you, young man. These bags seem to get heavier every week." 

Daigo crouched down and lifted the sack effortlessly, balancing it against his shoulder as though it weighed nothing. "Where to?" 

"Just down the hill there," she said, pointing toward a small house with a faded red roof. "That's my place. I'm ever so thankful—it's not often you see kind young folk these days." 

"Is that so?" Daigo asked, his tone light and conversational as they began to walk. 

The conversation that followed was simple. The woman chatted about the weather, remarking on how the rain had been overdue, and about her shopping trip, lamenting the rising prices at the market. She spoke warmly about her neighbours, the baker who always gave her day-old bread and the children who played noisily in the afternoons. 

Daigo listened, nodding occasionally. His smile grew imperceptibly wider with each step, the curve of his lips stretching just a bit more as her words filled the space between them. 

"And my grandchildren," the woman added, her voice tinged with pride and sorrow. "They are normally here to help me with my shopping. But, I just lost one recently, poor boy. He was a second year in a hero school. But he got dragged into the terrible Game." Her hands trembled as she adjusted her shawl. "I can't imagine what kind of monster would create something like that and just call it a simple game. People like that... their heads aren't right, you know?" 

Daigo's steps faltered for the briefest moment. His smile widened, his teeth now fully bared. His eyes, sharp and glinting, betrayed a growing intensity, a flicker of bloodlust barely restrained. 

She continued, oblivious. "This world's a mess, but people like that? They make it worse. I pray they never show their faces around here. Someone ought to teach them a lesson." 

By the time they reached her doorstep, Daigo's expression transformed. His grin stretched unnaturally wide, his eyes filled with an unsettling light, as though he were savouring every word she said. 

"Here we are," she said, fumbling with her keys. "You've been such a dear—" 

Daigo dropped the groceries abruptly. The sacks hit the ground with a dull thud, scattering fruits and cans across the stone pathway. The woman tuned, startled, only to see Daigo towering over her, his grin now grotesque in it's intensity. 

"I couldn't agree more," he said, his voice now brimming with evil. 

Before she could react, Daigo's hand shot out, faster than her eyes could follow. His blade, a sleek, precise weapon he carried like an extension of himself, gleamed in the dying sunlight. One clean, merciless stroke severed her head from her body. 

The old woman's head hit the ground, her expression frozen in shock, as her body crumpled beside it. Blood pooled around her, staining the cobblestones. 

Daigo crouched beside the lifeless head, tilting it slightly as if inspecting a curious artifact. His grin was now utterly feral, his eyes alight with dark amusement. "No head on your shoulders either." he murmured, his voice almost playful. "Guess we're even now." 

He stood, wiping his blade on her shawl before sliding it back into it's sheath. The warm golden light of sun bathed him as he turned away, walking back up the hill with a spring in his step. 

"Evolution always requires sacrifices," he muttered to himself, his voice carrying faintly on the breeze. "And the game was just a necessary step. Besides, even your dumb grandkid is immortalised within my Virtual Domain." 

The sound of footsteps faded into the stillness of the town, leaving behind only the lifeless body and the scattered remnants of a mundane, simple life.