MHA: Dark Matter

Dressed in a dark combat costume with metal plates and a red scarf, a figure advanced toward a group of frozen people. His body, covered in numerous wounds and burns, was trembling. Anyone could see that he was at his limit, that the slightest blow could knock him off his feet. But under the gaze of his small red eyes, no one could move. His silhouette seemed to fill the entire world, and his words fell like heavy boulders, crushing the people.

"THE ONLY ONE ALLOWED TO KILL ME IS ALL MIGHT!"

I paused the video. Staring at my phone screen, I paid little attention to the cup of black tea clenched in my hands. A mild headache and the slight drowsiness from not having slept for the past two days faded to the back of my mind. My gaze studied the silhouette of the Hero Killer, Stain, the former vigilante turned mass murderer.

Busy searching for Haijima's employees, followed by interrogations and executions, I had paid little attention to the changes beginning to occur in society. I was more interested in ways to bypass the restrictions that prevented my victims from telling me the organization's secrets. But killing them brought me pleasure.

An illusory sense of justice flickered through my thoughts. My emotions peaked when I finally caught Miura.

I had interrogated and killed my other victims quickly, most often right where I found them. But I treated Miura differently. I locked him in a basement, strapped him to a bed that was tilted vertically for a better view of a large mirror. Then I injected him with a certain drug.

Two days later, the formerly handsome, intelligent looking man had transformed into a moaning body covered in scabs and sores. In his eyes, which in my memory had always been cold and indifferent, there was only animal terror and a shattered mind.

I didn't want to talk to him, to learn his story or his personality. I had long understood that there are no absolutely right or wrong people. That every person has their own reasons for their actions, reasons we simply cannot always understand. They could be terrible, noble, or mundane. But at that moment, I didn't care about any of that. My strongest desire was to make Miura feel at least a fraction of the pain and fear I had felt back then. What those child test subjects he had watched over had felt.

Only after that did I take his life.

Returning home and taking a shower, I decided to first catch up on the news before going to sleep. My appearance and the subsequent clash with the heroes and Tokiomi were still raising questions and speculation on social media. But Ticci Micc and Stain had been unequivocally linked to the League of Villains, while Tokiomi was called an unknown villain who had a disagreement with us.

As a result, I was promoted to S class, and my subsequent killings were linked back to me.

What was most interesting, however, was how society perceived a villain like Stain. His words, his ideology, his beliefs, and his story resonated in the hearts of countless people. He had become a symbol pointing out the flaws in hero society. His arrest left in people's memories not just a notorious serial killer, but a man who wanted to change the world for the better.

Looking at the image of the Hero Killer, I felt… admiration?

I wasn't sure what he was like in combat, but the ability to intimidate Endeavor with nothing but his intent was remarkable. Even from a video recording, you could feel his resolve and his compelling charisma.

I also noticed the figures of Midoriya and his classmates among the group of heroes. I would have to ask him about that incident later.

My thoughts involuntarily turned to the League of Villains. They had profited the most from this incident. During the fight, I hadn't known about Stain's involvement, so I hadn't realized what was happening. Using the Hero Killer's fame to attract his followers while simultaneously proclaiming themselves not just as a group of ordinary villains, but as a group with their own ideology.

If this was Shigaraki's plan, he wasn't as childish as he appeared. And while Tomura might become more dangerous in the future, my greatest concern was the identity of his master. I had my suspicions about who he was, but I needed to confirm them.

For now, I needed to rest. The past few days had been very stressful.

- - -

Sitting at my desk, I stared at the blackboard with glazed eyes. I had to use all my strength not to fall asleep during our literature teacher's lecture. His hero name was Cementoss.

I liked reading, but the works of ancient authors didn't interest me. Haiku and European poetry left me indifferent. Reading the enormous novel "The Tale of Genji" by Murasaki Shikibu made me want to howl with boredom. But for my studies, I had to read about the love adventures of the "shining Genji," the most beautiful man who ever existed. Judging by the novel, the Emperor and the courtiers did nothing but pursue love affairs and attend festivals. Taxes, wars, famine, political intrigue. Nothing mattered.

What else could you expect from an author who was a court lady and decided to write a romance novel?

I glanced at the desk next to mine, where Mei was sitting. She was propping up her chin with her hands, wearing a smart, attentive expression. Her eyes were fixed on a single point. I noticed her elbow beginning to slip. It seemed someone was about to wake up soon.

Bang.

"Hatsume!"

Cementoss called out to the pink haired girl in a clear, calm voice.

"Yes, Ishiyama san!"

Mei nearly jumped out of her seat and flashed her signature smile.

"What was I talking about?"

He asked in the same calm voice. The hero himself, from the outside, might seem to have a personality similar to his Quirk. A serious, calm character, like stone. Which made the moments when he decided to make a joke all the more surprising.

"Umm, about Jun'ichiro Tanizaki's novel?"

She attempted to guess and bluff. How I understood her.

"No. I was talking about the work of Yukio Mishima. I suggest you not sleep during my lessons."

The attempt had failed, but she got off with a light fright. Or not. I don't always understand Mei's emotions.

Oh well. I continued pretending to be an attentive listener and a diligent student. The main thing was not to fail like Mei.

The bell rang.

Finally. After saying goodbye to the teacher, we were free.

Mei, who had suddenly perked up, quickly gathered her things and dragged me toward her workshop. I somehow managed to owe her a favor, so I was once again a test subject for her "babies."

In my defense, I hadn't fully recovered from the events involving the Hero Killer.

Damn.

My gaze fell on the new version of the exoskeleton. I hoped nothing would break. No dislocated joints. No exploding at the worst possible moment.

Damn.

A few hours later, Mei and I were arguing about the types of engines to be used in the new design and their placement depending on the choice. With feverish eyes, I tried to sketch a kinematic diagram of the resulting machine on a piece of A4 paper.

Suddenly, I noticed Hatsume's flushed face approaching me. I don't know what came over me, but I leaned toward her and kissed her on the lips.

She froze for a moment, then began to kiss me back. Our hands began to explore each other's bodies. During our clumsy kiss, we even managed to bump teeth, but we quickly corrected ourselves.

Almost knocking over the table, I landed on a chair, and Mei landed on my lap, not breaking the kiss.

My last rational thought was: "Please don't let Power Loader walk in right now."