MHA – Shoto Todoroki : Modern-day Terrorist

Aizawa viewed the incident in slow motion.

"Sensei !"

The sniper fired.

Aizawa, suspended in mid-jump, slowly raised his forearms in an X-shape to shield his eyes.

The air smelled like thunder.

A drop of water fell on his cheekbone.

He felt the inactive gravity on his body pull him backwards as he had pushed the children forward.

His hair flew around his face as if he were underwater.

A black shadow crept into his peripheral vision.

He inhaled sharply.

Then a hand grabbed his ankle and pulled him down violently.

Aizawa crashed into metal dustbins.

They toppled against each other, bags ripping open, contents spilling out like a flood around him.

His hand slipped on a thick, sticky liquid ; the smell of decay rose to his nose. Without looking, he wiped himself on his trousers and jumped to his feet.

A shield of black shadows protected them from the sniper on the roof.

Monoma was beneath it, pale, shaking, arms raised, dripping with sweat.

His hands were embedded in the shadow wall, black threads running up his forearms as if he were merging with it.

Uraraka knelt beside Aizawa, her breathing labored ; it was obviously she who had pulled him while deactivating her Quirk.

Aizawa grabbed her elbow firmly - more out of necessity than lack of empathy - and pulled her to her feet.

A series of shots rang out, shaking the black wall like a water mirror whose surface had been fractured.

The metal bullets landed on their side of the shield, devoid of any speed, as if they'd been dropped from it.

Monoma clenched his jaw so tightly that Aizawa could see his cheek muscles tensing under his skin as if they were about to burst.

Aizawa analysed the situation in a split second : he picked up a garbage can lid, handed it to Uraraka and told her to go and hide at the end of the alleyway they'd planned to go into.

"As soon as I give you the signal, throw it with all your might through Monoma's shield, understood ?"

It was only a matter of minutes before a few Heroes came to see where the gunfire was coming from.

"Understood !"

But a lot could happen in a few minutes.

Aizawa and Uraraka split : she ran to the right, he to the left towards Monoma.

He put his hand on the boy's shoulder.

The boy gasped. Strands of blonde hair clung to his sweaty forehead and temples.

"As soon as the shooting stops, drop your shield and we'll run to the end of the alley"

If the sniper wasn't an idiot, it wouldn't be long before he changed his angle of attack.

Monoma nodded his chin, but Aizawa wasn't sure if it was because he agreed or because of the spasms.

The shooting stopped.

The shadows, black veins on his forearms, retreated in an instant. His hands regained the appearance of human skin, the black lingering longer on his fingernails.

Monoma staggered.

Aizawa, anticipating it, crouched down and threw him over his shoulders, belly to back.

His shoulder, still stiff from the electric shock, twitched at the contact, and Aizawa thought he would cramp up in the middle of the street.

He managed to get to his feet, grunting under the strain of the extra weight, then sprinted towards Uraraka.

The garbage can lid flew over their heads like a giant boomerang.

Aizawa ducked into the corner of the street where she had been hiding.

As soon as she saw him, Ochaco picked up her pace and ran to his left.

She brushed Monoma with her fingertips to lighten the weight on Aizawa's shoulders and he straightened up, exhaling with relief.

Right away the clouds burst and a downpour soaked them to the bone.

Aizawa tried to keep an eye on the rooftops, but it was almost impossible with the water pouring into his eyes.

His long hair stuck to his forehead and jaw, his soles squeaking on the wet ground.

They crossed the street and turned left. Aizawa thought he heard footsteps above them and quickened his pace.

Apart from Ochaco's jerky breathing - which she tried not to make too loud - Aizawa felt as if he were running alone.

They ran at a punishing pace for almost ten minutes : Uraraka didn't complain and Monoma was so motionless that Aizawa had the feeling he was carrying a corpse.

When she stumbled twice in a row and almost fell, Aizawa decided to take a break in the shadow of a closed door.

He put Monoma on the floor. The boy almost collapsed.

Aizawa craned his neck and rolled his shoulders, eyes sweeping over the area.

He thought he saw a light behind a curtain, but it was hastily extinguished.

The echo of the shots must have reverberated far enough for no one to dare leave their homes while they waited for the police.

"Monoma, can you run ?"

The boy nodded without answering, his bloodshot eyes wide open. He shook his head sharply, as if to wake himself, and clasped his hands together in a nervous tic.

There had been an earlier attempt on their lives in the middle of Tokyo and if the boy hadn't reacted in time, all three would have been dead.

Aizawa squeezed his shoulder to comfort him.

"You're doing a great job kid"

Aizawa could feel him trembling under his fingers: he didn't know if it was the rain or the stress of using his Quirk so much.

"Sensei, I don't have any signal"

Uraraka showed him her mobile phone with no signal.

"We have to go back to the center. Maybe we can call someone there"

Aizawa didn't know this part of the city very well, but he knew roughly how to get back to the center : then again, he wasn't sure if it was the best option.

"No"

Monoma's hoarse voice made them turn their heads towards him.

"This is what they want," he said in a low voice. "They've been trying to keep us away from the city all along, but now that they've lost us, they know we'll want to go there. This is the opportunity they need to catch us"

"But-"

"Monoma is right," Aizawa decided. "They must have set up an ambush for us nearby : it's preferable to catch them by surprise and go for the rear and then get through their security perimeter"

The longer the hunt lasted, the better their prospects would be.

"Not to mention all the civilians we'd be endangering by leading a group of armed and violent individuals there"

It was dawn : in a city the size of the capital, people would soon be getting up to go to work.

It was better for them to stay on the outskirts, where the population density was lower - the greatest good for the greatest number.

Aizawa continued to scan the surrounding rooftops, eyes squinting.

Water trickled from the walls as if they were porous.

"Yet we can't stay in this situation indefinitely. You have to contact Nezu"

Nezu had contingency plans for contingency plans - he'd know what to do.

" 'You ?' " Monoma asked.

Aizawa saw a shadow move: he pushed the teenager behind him without looking, his red eyes riveted on an obscure corner of the alley.

The rain drummed in his ears. The shadow didn't move.

Aizawa relaxed his stance and turned back to the teenagers, who looked around suspiciously.

A gust of wind rustled a tin can and they jumped.

This wasn't good - they were getting paranoid.

So did Aizawa but it was different - he was a professional.

"You head for the city and I'll head for the outskirts"

Uraraka was outraged.

"What ? Sensei, that's suicide !"

"Who's to say that they won't leave you for later and come after us ?", asked Neito pragmatically.

Aizawa remembered the sniper and the perfect shooting opportunity he'd had on Uraraka and Monoma.

If they had been the target, Aizawa would already be out of students.

"It's a meticulous, planned job," he explained. "They have a precise target and don't want to cause unnecessary damage"

If they had, they would have blown up the taxi that Aizawa, Neito and Uraraka had gotten out of earlier - Neito wouldn't have had time to save them by creating a dome of shadows.

"The fact that none of them used their Quirk and kept to firearms is also a strong indication of their goal"

They had prepared to face Aizawa.

Whatever their reason for seeking him out, they wanted him alive, or at least in a near-functional state.

Aizawa turned his head sharply to the left.

He thought he heard splashing sounds, like a group of people walking over puddles, but maybe it was only the rain's intensity increasing. Or maybe it really was someone.

Aizawa nudged them towards the west, towards the city.

"We don't have time to argue," he said.

Uraraka protested.

"But-"

"That's an order. Go"

Monoma, jaw clenched, looked at Aizawa as if seeing him for the last time, then nodded.

"I'll call for reinforcements, Sensei. Hold on until then"

Aizawa smiled awkwardly to reassure him, unaccustomed to handling the 'reassurance' part of his Hero job. Usually, Mic was there to handle such things.

No sixteen-year-old should have to worry about his teacher dying.

"Leave"

Aizawa pushed them forward.

They hesitated for a moment then started running, casting worried glances over their shoulders.

Aizawa waited until they had rounded the corner then turned on his heels, opposite direction from them, his serene expression replaced by one of intense concentration.

His strips of tape wrapped around a series of garbage cans : he tugged roughly and swung them against a wall, spilling their contents onto the floor.

A deafening noise covered the sound of the rain, like metal drums being smashed against rocks.

Aizawa continued to run haphazardly from the city, creating as much chaos as possible to draw attention to himself.

He thought he heard voices.

He turned abruptly into a narrow alley, the perfect place if he had to face a melee.

A shadow fell in front of him.

Aizawa slammed on the brakes and stepped back, muscles tensed, knife drawn, his shoulder brushing the wall to his left.

His black hair whipped his cheeks because of the rainy wind.

He wiped his eyes with the back of his sleeve, water cascading down his forehead, colliding with the barrier of his eyebrows and sliding down his cheekbones.

The figure unfolded like a bat spreading its wings, so tall and wide that it cast a shadow across Aizawa's face.

It was as big as All Might.

"Hello, Eraserhead"

In front of him stood All for One.

*

A/N : If you want to read ahead of schedule, go check the story's P@treon, Nar_cisseENG