Shirou did not know when Avenger, or that league of villains, would show their faces again. Training regularly like everyone else wouldn't suffice, he had to get stronger physically, magically and mentally.
Otherwise, he would not be able to protect his classmates.
It was from that reason alone that he hiked his way to Archer's cafe in the first place. His friends didn't mind that he left early, seeing as they were all going to be spending their time training anyway, so they probably thought he was doing the same…
Although probably not to the extent that Shirou was going for. The process of siphoning experience was long and arduous, especially considering how long Archer exactly lived…
Archer growled.
… but that connection was also a two-way street.
Archer kicked him away, causing Shirou to roll on the concrete roof once more, but he had reinforced himself to prevent any damage. He could already sense the indignant irritation from the servant, mostly because that kick he gave could've shattered a rib or two if Shirou didn't specifically reinforce them.
"Are you an idiot? Why didn't you use a bow more!? At that time, if you had reacted sooner, then you could have ended the threat before it even began." Archer berated heavily. "The more and more I see your memories, the more I want to gut you. Why did I even agree to this?"
Yes, the memory and experience siphoning happened both ways. Just as Shirou saw his memories and experiences, Archer saw his own.
Before, they had an incredibly similar past – if not then completely identical – but because Shirou had been living in this world of quirks for the past several months, they were different in some way. In other words, Shirou had something that Archer didn't have.
So with that in mind, Archer could see how he arrived, how he continued after that, and how he arrived at their current situation.
"Get up, we're not done yet," Archer ordered.
As much as Shirou was annoyed from it, he obeyed without question and charged once more, resuming their ballad of blades once more.
"You're using your smaller body well enough, that I admit," Archer said as he dodged a thrust, but held a dagger in his left hand, using it as an extension of his body to drag Shirou's smaller arm forward, and into a painful piledriving knee to the chest. "However, you shouldn't be rushing in like an idiot all the time! Let them attack first!"
Shirou tried to find room to breathe as he backed away, but the knee to his chest had stunned him for a bit, allowing Archer to kick him away once more.
"If that had been reinforced, you would have a punctured lung."
Archer fought as he usually would, taunting and baiting his opponent to attack his openings first, before inevitably countering every attack before they even landed. However today, there was a huge difference. The servant was implementing far more kicks and movements that relied on being physically stronger.
It was a complete antithesis to his usual fighting style, so much so that it both looked and felt unnatural to both him and Shirou.
But adopting that style was necessary.
For it was the fighting style of the current Angra Mainyu.
Yes, from just a few minutes of sparring, Archer had learned what he fought all those months ago and just a few days ago, and in order to prepare for him once more, Archer was currently sparring whilst using both Tawrich and Zarich, the Fang Grinders.
Perhaps he should have thanked Avenger, because if he wasn't around, then Shirou wouldn't have been able to convince Archer to even begin training him. Then again, Avenger was half the reason Shirou even wanted to train in the first place.
When Shirou first arrived to ask for training, all he had to do was mention the amalgamation of all the world's evils to convince him. Archer really liked this vacation, and having Angra Mainyu here was going to make it harder to enjoy, apparently.
Shirou didn't really think that 'wanting to enjoy his vacation' was his true reason, but he didn't push it.
So by using the Fang Grinders, he would be helping Shirou get used to fighting against him in the future. They shared such a similar enough height and body structure that they were practically the same foe. Familiarity with the enemy was paramount.
Honestly, Shirou expected Archer to head out there and start hunting the rogue heroic spirit himself… but the fact that the much stronger servant didn't try that was… not exactly comforting.
A timer shaped like an egg rang its dissonant tone from off to their side, signaling the end of a session. Archer hadn't even broken a sweat, but Shirou was left groveling in his own puddle.
"Time's up. Take a breather and we'll resume in three minutes." Archer ordered.
Shirou nodded, not bothering to say anything back.
After all, the two of them had nothing more to say to each other, their dance of blades told each other more than enough…
"I heard from Todoroki that you'll be joining that U.A. sports festival."
… or, at least it should have been.
"Yeah," Shirou confirmed. "But it's going to be broadcast out to the entire country, so I'm not going to participate as much as you'd think."
Archer gave off a short sound of mild interest. "… keeping what skills you have up your sleeve a secret in case any villains watch the broadcast. I see, that is certainly something that I would do."
A short second after that, Archer threw a water bottle. It soared through the air, flipping a few times, before hitting Shirou right in between his eyes.
"What the hell was that for!?"
"Your idiocy frustrated me so I wanted to hit you."
Shirou felt his brow twitch violently.
"And what, exactly, am I being stupid about?"
"You plan to hang back and let your classmates get ahead of you," Archer stated.
"And what's wrong with that?" Shirou argued. "Success in the festival means a lot to all of them. Their future as a professional hero counts on it. If they don't do well, then it'll be harder for them to get a good start in the future. I don't need to succeed here as much as they do."
"Let me guess, even if you don't do well, you'll still try to continue on being a 'hero' regardless," Archer muttered as he closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. "It's not even hard to think about what you would do. Your thought process is so painfully obvious that I want to wring your throat."
Archer's eyes opened once more. "Never mind, if you can't see what's wrong with it, then there's no point in talking about it. Get up, we're going again."
It hadn't even been three minutes.
Shirou sighed and grabbed the egg-shaped timer next to him, twisting it for ten minutes. In a few seconds, they resumed.
He was truly lucky that he managed to convince the servant. At this rate, he would be able to protect his classmates better.
"… and that's the gist of it," Archer explained, snapping Shirou from his reminiscing. He had no idea what the servant had said, but from the look on Yu's face, it must have been marginally convinced.
"… I still don't get why Shirou would be here when there's the sports festival just around the corner," Yu spoke her mind. "He's supposed to be training. The sports festival isn't a joke, it could determine the success of his future career as a hero as a whole."
At the word hero, Shirou noticed Archer clench his fist ever so slightly. However, it was already clenched and hidden under his apron, so Yu didn't notice.
"There is no need for worry ma'am," Archer offered, looking a bit annoyed he had to say it. "While I may look like an average chef, I am uniquely suited to aiding your son in his hero training."
There's nothing average looking about you, Archer.
"Is that so?"
Shirou had to blink as he spun his head. Behind him was the entrance to the backroom that they had all stood in, and from that entrance was none other than Aizawa-sensei.
Shirou did fleetingly notice him sleeping a while ago, but the teacher seemed to have awoken, no doubt from the screaming he had been doing earlier.
That, or from Yu's own screaming. She had a louder voice in comparison, mainly due to her quirk.
"Aizawa?" Yu muttered in surprise. "Wait, you're awake?"
"With the amount of screaming that you, the brat, and the chef did, anyone would be," He muttered annoyed, stepping into the room uninvited. "At least I had a five-minute nap. Not enough for the coffee to set in, though."
Archer frowned.
"My apologies. I can offer you another on the house at a later date. Perhaps on your next visit."
"Ensuring a returning customer… Smart. That'd be appreciated," Aizawa thanked in his roundabout way. "By the way, the others are starting to get antsy, so let's wrap this up quickly. Back to my question, how would a chef know about training a hero?"
"Well, the reason is quite simple. I am not an average chef," Archer said.
The pro hero scanned the cafe owner from head to toe.
"… You're right about not being a regular chef," Aizawa muttered. "Anyone can see that your physique is a cut above average. Did you study to become a hero before?"
Once again Archer clenched his fist, something that Aizawa actually seemed to notice this time around. However, he didn't react to the act at all, acting as if he never saw it.
"You could say that," Archer managed to force out in a surprisingly natural way. "In addition to that, our quirks are similar enough that I know how to help him out."
He held out his hand and traced a simple chef's knife. Surprising the two pro heroes.
"I provide him tips and training, and as payment, he works for me during rush hours," Archer said with a smug grin. "While I'm restricted to only making these knives, I'm sure I can instill some ingenuity in your son."
That was the biggest bold lie Shirou had ever heard. Can only trace knives? If only, then Shirou could have at least some advantage over the guy.
At least it was a good lie, no doubt Archer had come up with it during their many training sessions together… or he made it on the spot, which was also as plausible as it was unlikely.
Shirou wished he had thought of that lie instead before he had been caught by his adoptive mother.
"I see…" Yu muttered. Shirou was sure that in her mind, there was no doubt that sticking around with 'Farran' for a few weeks could be beneficial for developing his quirk. Somehow.
However, she still wore a look of slight unease, almost as if she didn't fully trust him. Shirou couldn't really blame her, he didn't really trust Archer either…
Damn it.
Even if they settled their differences already, they still subtly abhorred one another. It was a given, seeing as they represented what each other despised the most.
"Fine," Yu finally agreed. "But, I'll be here every day from now on to pick him up. I don't like the idea of Shirou wandering around at night alone."
Archer seemed to find this funny and gazed at Shirou with a smug grin.
"I suppose it is fair that you would be worried about his wellbeing. We wouldn't want a child getting hurt at night."
Oh… Shirou was so going to aim for his jewels the next time they sparred.
"Come on, Shirou," Yu started. "We're going home. It was nice meeting you, Mr. Farran."
Archer nodded.
"It was… an enlightening meeting, ma'am," He returned. Archer then sent a minor glare towards his younger self. "And you, don't be late next time."
Shirou found his brow twitching.
"The school gates were crowded, Archer."
Archer didn't care and walked out of the room, most likely to head back towards the kitchens.
"Then jump over a wall."
The thing is that Shirou could tell that Archer wasn't joking there. Even after sparing and technically learning more about him, he still couldn't understand the guy.
Shirou sighed.
"I'll go get my things," Shirou said as he turned to his mother.
"I'll be waiting for you outside," Yu replied, but it was in a softer tone. "We'll talk about this when we get home."
Shirou's feet stopped cold as Yu's own hurriedly left.
… Looks like he would need to make the dinner extra tasty tonight.
I really wish I thought of Archer's excuse sooner.
"Looks like there are no issues with your body now," Kurogiri's disembodied voice said. "You're back at peak performance."
Angra Mainyu, who sat on a chair with flexible pipes embedded into his back and nape, smiled. "No need to tell me that, I already feel better."
Kurogiri sent him a strange look but made no further comment. He stepped out of the room that Angra Mainyu sat inside, no doubt back towards his personal bar to relieve some stress.
Angra Mainyu flexed his wrist and craned his neck, feeling slightly sore from sitting still for several hours. Using his Noble Phantasm had been strenuous for the bag of flesh he called a body.
Kind of understandable, this body of his might have regeneration, but that regeneration still had some flaws, and that was it wouldn't be able to handle straight and continuous use of his Noble Phantasm.
Oh yeah, speaking of his Noble Phantasm, Verg Avesta seemed to have taken a level-up pill. He didn't just reflect regular damage, but now the wounds that came with it, evident from the marks that the hero All Might left on his own body.
He could still use his regular Verg Avesta to reflect regular damage, but that was only when he used a regular human body. Angra Mainyu wasn't a magus, nor would he claim to know of its inner workings, but maybe his new body was somehow supplementing the change.
Somehow, but he didn't care either way.
He'd think about it another day, for now, he simply recalled the aftermath.
The aftermath of USJ, that is…
"You knocked me out!?" Shigaraki screamed once he came to a looked around him, seeing an ever familiar bar. "Why!? I still had lives left! I could have killed the Symbol of Peace!"
Angra Mainyu had to resist the urge to sigh at his 'boss'. Actually, he couldn't even sigh if he wanted to, his throat was still busy regenerating. The pale guy was currently using his quirk to rip parts of his body into dust.
Angra Mainyu liked the guy, he really did, but when was this tantrum going to end? Not that it was painful or anything, he felt worse when he was just a boy, whose body bled from the curses they carved onto him, and buried up to his neck. And even after all that, they had his arms and legs both beaten and broken so he couldn't even attempt to escape.
He would've smiled if he could.
Even with time, humanity's evils never changed.
"That's enough."
Like clockwork, the television beside Angra Mainyu came to life. As soon as those two words were uttered, Shigaraki Tomura ceased his mindless raging, focusing on the screen. However, his eyes were still haggard and filled with fury.
"Why!? Explain, sensei!"
"There is no need for you to be upset. There will be many more chances for you to kill the Symbol of Peace." The television screen flickered with static for just a short second as the 'big boss' began his reply. As the words smoothly flowed out, Shigaraki Tomura silently listened.
Even while crude and raging with fury, Angra Mainyu could see the respect Shigaraki held for the big boss in his eyes.
"Angra Mainyu's decision was a right one, there is no shame in a tactical retreat. While your ally managed to wound All Might, he was still strong enough to fight back. You would not have been able to beat him before the other pro heroes arrived, there is no shame in admitting that."
The words slowly sank in for the pale man, but his fingers were still twitching in anger.
"Damn it!"
The guy grabbed a hoodie and was out the door quicker than most would.
"Follow him, Kurogiri. Ensure he does not do anything… rash."
"Yes, sir," Kurogiri agreed. His spectral body faded into himself as he teleported away, but Angra Mainyu could still see the lingering gaze of confusion and wariness he held.
He wished he could smirk, but by the time his face had regenerated enough to do so, Kurogiri was gone.
There was a long string of silence left between them.
"So, are you going to ask, or what?" Angra Mainyu uttered.
"I am merely waiting for the best way to phrase my question," The main boss said. "When we said that you'd be the back-up fighter against All Might, I expected that you would end up becoming a punching bag. However, I did not expect you to do so… well, against him."
Angra Mainyu let a little chuckle escape him as he crawled to his feet, his tendons finally regenerating.
"Of course I did, I'm the embodiment of humanities evils, after all! Even if he was the Symbol of Peace, he was still human." He boasted.
Even Angra Mainyu knew that those words wouldn't convince anyone.
"I suppose you aren't? Again with these delusions…" The voice sighed out. Angra Mainyu snickered, almost as if there was a joke. "Fine, whether or not you're what you say you are, it does not matter. What does matter, though, is how you were able to enter that bestial form of yours."
Angra Mainyu felt like there was more to be said and stayed silent to listen.
"A stronger and faster form tied with the ability to reflect physical injuries… I did not add those quirks to your body, Angra Mainyu."
He smirked.
"Of course you didn't. To begin with, it was my power ."
"So even as a creature without a body, you were able to use a quirk? Interesting…" There must have some thought going around the big boss' head because he was silent for a while. "… As interesting as that is, do not forget that you only exist for Tomura."
The nape of Angra Mainyu tingled.
"I would hate for you to gain any… ideas."
He still smirked as he recalled it. The old geezer thought he had a secondary quirk that reflected wounds. He didn't even acknowledge that it was supernatural in the slightest. Not even with his own worthless testimony.
Angra Mainyu would have to drown the guy in curses for him to believe him, but even then, it was a long shot.
Not that being 'believed' was actually worth anything, but Angra Mainyu could admit one thing. When that guy kicks the bucket, he would become one hell of a heroic spirit, assuming a throne even exists in this world.
Until then, he was just a person that thought Angra Mainyu to be a boaster with a big ego. One who could now boast of nearly killing All Might, but a boaster that he dismissed all the same. With a single push of a button, the old geezer could erase him.
The chip in the nape of his artificial body was proof of that.
As old and arrogant as that guy was, he wasn't senile nor a fool. The big boss had put it on him to control him, thinking that he was nothing but a wild animal. True, with how he acted when he first appeared in the world, it was a good assumption.
However, Angra Mainyu wasn't an animal. The chip still subtly tried to influence him, but as long as he was aware of it, it wouldn't be doing anything at all. Essentially, granting him technical free will.
Technical, but that was it.
It was a shame, but there was a fail-safe in the chip. It could be manually or automatically activated if Angra Mainyu acted with malicious intent to the man-child, Shigaraki Tomura. It would activate even if he tried to rip it out of himself, or if someone else tried to.
Once it would be activated, it would turn off his regenerative quirk and release enough of an electric jolt to disrupt his nerves. Effectively killing him.
Well, not really, but it'd kill the body, leaving it useless for Angra Mainyu.
He'd be back to a wraith, possessing random bodies, driven by the remaining embers of will that each of those bodies had, until they broke or died, like with what happened to his first one.
He didn't even bother to remember the guy who he possessed, but he definitely recalled the evil in his heart. The thoughts of finding the blonde that had murdered the original spirit, to break his or her limbs and bones, to utterly eviscerate the killer until nothing remained but a bloody wreck.
He'd be like a zombie with different intentions each and every incarnation. If he became like that… he would never get what he truly wanted.
His current body was ideal. There was no previous ill intent to work his way through, essentially immortal to common causes of death, and it had the ability to let him do whatever he wanted!
He would never find a body like this ever again… The only problem was the chip in his nape. He was stuck as their reluctant ally until he could remove–
He could already feel the chip already vibrate in preparation, ready to release a surge of neurological-electricity to destroy the brain, and his precious body, if he dared to even finish the idle thought.
A smirk wormed its way onto his face.
Whether it was a vindictive one or a sad one, not even the embodiment of humanity's evil could know. Positive emotions weren't really his thing.
Angra Mainyu put on a coat and hoodie, taking steps out a back door and deciding to roam outside of the run-down building they called a base. He couldn't go too far from Kurogiri, seeing as the chip would also activate if it thought he was running away.
Luckily, the chip had a rather large radius, enough for him to journey around the entire city from one end to the other. It gave him enough freedom to wander as he wanted.
And so he did. Angra Mainyu wandered out of the alleyway to take in the sights of this brand new yet familiar world.
He saw a casino with multiple rich looking dudes walking in and out.
He saw clothing stores filled with regular high school girls.
He saw a bar with drunken men happily singing and cheering.
He saw arcades filled to the brim as competitive students surrounded the fighting game area.
He saw all of these things, seen from under the black, dark and starry sky… All seen with a chain around his neck, ready to choke the life out of him and end the freedom he had to wander.
All of his thoughts roamed, the curses within him bellowing out to the world with their endless evil, screaming whenever he saw the people around him live a life of blissful ignorance…
… but for Angra Mainyu, the man that was known to this world as 'The Beast' – who had experienced all of the world's evils to the point of irrefutable return – those evils were nothing but background noise to him. He smirked as he quelled the curses within him with a metaphorical tug on the chain and walked along without missing a step.
He would not let them.
Because as much as he hated humanity…
He still loved every aspect of them.
Even though he reigned in these curses, he still felt them ready to lash out to the world once more, eager to drown them in their own curses and wondrous hypocrisy… but he would not let them.
These curses were more like angry and bloodthirsty dogs chained to a wall…
Just like he was.
Nothing more than a beast.
Nothing more than a Beast chained to a wall.
From outside the cafe, Aizawa stood beside Yu as they waited for their respective companions. Shirou for Yu, and Toshinori for Aizawa, who seemed to be busy trying to finish his latte.
Uwabami and Shinji had waited for them, but once they knew that Yu would be heading home, they decided to get a head start. Apparently, Shinji also had nightly duties to perform – only for Thursdays though, for some reason. Uwabami, on the other hand, had a photo shoot coming up soon and wanted to get some beauty sleep.
"How does he look?" Yu asked, voice unusually serious.
"He's clean," Aizawa replied, his own voice serious as well.
Within the grasp of his sole functioning hand was his phone, with his finger seamlessly scrolling through a database of names. In other words, the civilian records available to all professional heroes.
Well, not all of them. Only the rare few that were trusted with them, like the top ten in the country, or those who had proven to be undeniably trustworthy like Aizawa.
Someone like Yu, who had been a hero for only half a year, was still technically a rookie and didn't have that luxury.
With the ability to access the civilian records, pro heroes could make much more accurate decisions once they knew who they were up with, who around them had a quirk that could be useful, or who a potential villain could be.
Yu really didn't like the thought of potential villains, it was like holding a gun to someone's head just because they had a malicious quirk, kind of like that Hitoshi Shinso kid. He was listed there under the 'potential villains category'.
Of course, that category wasn't made public, but it was an open secret that nobody actually talked about.
Oh yeah, you also couldn't access the files of other pro heroes. Because why would you need to?
"Are you sure?" Yu asked. "How about his education history? He doesn't look Japanese, so could he be an immigrate?"
Yu really didn't trust the cafe owner at all. The fact that they were running a background check spoke volumes of it. From the looks of it, Aizawa didn't either.
Hence, why they were doing what they were currently doing.
"I tried to check, but I ran into a problem."
Yu narrowed her eyes.
"The rest of his files seem to be on lockdown," Aizawa said. "On request, only high ranked pro heroes have the authority to view his profile. I don't have enough clearance for it."
"That's… really not normal," Yu muttered with worry in her eyes. "Have you figured out under whose authority? You need to be pretty high on the totem pole to get someone's records protected like that."
Protected files were rare to come by, but they did have the names of the people who requested them written under them. They would only need to ask the pro hero who requested the protection in the first place for permission.
Which begs the question… who indeed would have requested it, and why?
Aizawa narrowed his eyes.
"We may have to give up on looking into his file."
"And why is that!?" Yu shouted in confusion. The streets around them were empty as the night sky, but her voice had still been loud enough to draw at least a few curious stares from within the cafe itself.
"We won't be able to reach this pro hero, or convince him at all," Aizawa informed. He held up the phone towards Yu's face.
Indignation was replaced with silent understanding upon realizing exactly who it was that ordered 'Farran's' files to be protected.
"Damn it."
Yu nodded and gave up in frustration.
It would've been easier if Shirou had fallen into the wrong kind of group. At least she could beat the fear of a mother's wrath into them.
After all…
How in the world would they be able to convince someone as headstrong and prideful as the number two professional hero, Endeavor?
A high wall of glass separated the world from his office.
From behind that glass pane, he could see the city nightlife slowly come to life. The cars running about the streets, the people walking in crowds returning from their day jobs… and even students, acting carefree about their lives, moving forward with absolutely no plan about what to do next.
Pointlessly frivolous.
This was what he swore to protect, even if they didn't like it.
His eyes drifted to his desk beside him, one of the only things in his admittedly large office. Upon the woodwork was a file containing the recent incident at the U.A. high school.
It was a report of the students and their injuries, mostly useless to one such as he. However, there were details of a lesser-known villain, one who fought against All-Might.
Yes… that All-Might.
The Number One Professional Hero of the country.
The fact that there was someone who could face him and actually escape… it got his blood boiling. Whether it was out of anger or excitement, he didn't know.
Anger at a mere villain thinking he could go toe-to-toe with the country's best and actually survive… and excitement for any future chance that he could be the one to burn the arrogant upstart's bodily form.
When he succeeded, it would be a chance to get a higher rank than that stars-and-stripes man. It would be a chance to finally attain the rank he worked day-and-night to achieve.
All he would need to do is slay– capture the villain known as The Beast.
And none were more fit to do so, than Endeavor.