Standing across from me, the hospital rubble cracking under his steps, Shigaraki kept flexing his fingers like he was warming up to rip someone's throat out. That someone was probably me.
Mirko spat to the side, already cracking her knuckles. "You gonna stand there, or are we tearing through this freakshow?"
Ryukyu, Aizawa, Endeavor, and the rest of the crew were right behind me. Manual stood close, keeping Aizawa's eyes wet like his life depended on it. Which it did.
Shigaraki locked eyes with Eraser and grinned like a bastard. "You are really, really cool, Eraser."
Aizawa didn't blink. Didn't flinch.
"He has super strength without a Quirk. Even with Eraser, he won't be easy," I said, watching Shigaraki roll his shoulders like the fight bored him.
Endeavor walked past me. "I will be the judge of that."
He didn't wait.
Flames burst from his heels, and he closed the distance in a blink. Aizawa's eye locked onto Shigaraki, and the decay stopped cold, but the body didn't.
Shigaraki lunged.
The floor cracked under his step. Endeavor met him mid-swing. Fire wrapped his fist and slammed into Shigaraki's jaw. The air snapped. Shigaraki's head snapped sideways. He didn't go down.
He growled, teeth bared, and swung back. Elbow up. It caught Endeavor in the ribs. The fire cracked louder, but the punch still landed. Endeavor slid back, boots tearing the ground. Heat rippled up the concrete.
Shigaraki charged again, grabbed a chunk of stone mid-run, and flung it like a frisbee. Endeavor torched it mid-air, then blinked behind him, Shigaraki was already there.
"Fast-" someone muttered behind us.
Endeavor caught the next swing mid-twist and blasted Shigaraki point-blank in the ribs. Shigaraki grunted, flew back, boots digging trenches in the dirt, then pushed forward again like it was nothing.
His skin was half-melted on one side, hair smoking, but he still moved like he didn't notice.
"Annoying," he muttered, then ducked under the next fireline. His hand reached for Endeavor's throat.
Endeavor blasted straight downward, dodging up with a jet of flame. Shigaraki missed by inches. The ground under his palm disintegrated into dust.
Endeavor didn't let him reset. Another fire wave shot from above. Hit shoulder, hit chest, caught him again mid-step. Flesh tore, ribs showed. Not from his Quirk, by sheer force.
Didn't matter.
Shigaraki turned, grabbed a twisted hunk of rebar, and chucked it like a javelin. Endeavor blasted it to slag, but the distraction worked, Shigaraki already launched off the rubble, punched him square in the side.
Endeavor spun. His shoulder hit a collapsed stairwell. Blood coughed out. The wall behind him caved.
"Not enough," Shigaraki said, voice rasping. "You burn nice, though."
Endeavor stood, fire licking off his back like he had not just taken a full-body punch from a lunatic tank.
"Then burn more," he growled.
Another blast—upward this time. Air pressure cracked glass somewhere deep. Shigaraki jumped straight through it, arm up, punching into the heat. He landed a knee into Endeavor's side, hand grabbing fabric-
"Move!" I shouted, rushing in from the side.
Mirko came first, leg sweeping, catching Shigaraki in the ribs. He flew into the broken wall like a skipped stone. She followed fast, leapt high, brought her heel down.
He caught it.
Mirko snarled and flipped off him before he could grip tight. I cut in next, swung the bat hard. It crashed against his forearm. Bone cracked. He ate it and came forward.
Another swing, this time into his side. He grabbed my arm and twisted. I kicked him square in the chin with both feet, using the momentum to rip myself free. We both hit the ground opposite directions.
I stepped between them, raised WEM. "Don't charge like an idiot. I said he got super strength and regen."
Endeavor grunted behind me.
Shigaraki's skin sealed right in front of us like tape rewinding. Eyes dull, mouth twitching. "I still lack something. One For All. I want that."
He pivoted toward the complex, forgetting us.
I moved. Bat up. Swung straight for his head.
He ducked mid-air, came in close, too close. Fingers stabbed into my jacket. Ice shot up, blocked most of it, but I still felt that burning sting graze my ribs. I kicked him in the gut and shoved back.
"You ain't getting a damn thing, you expired, crust-ridden cum balloon. You're the kind of mistake that should've been wiped off a hooker's thigh with a gas station napkin, but somehow you slipped through life's quality control like a glitch in a hentai doujin," I spat, dragging WEM behind me. "Look at you. That fucked up face? You really carried your dad's hand around like a damn accessory. What was that? Comfort blanket? Lemme guess, daddy hit you once, and you nuked him?"
Shigaraki screamed, more frustration than pain, like his lungs couldn't decide whether to throw a tantrum or file for bankruptcy.
"You know what your problem is, Tomura?" I asked. "It ain't just the decay quirk, or the maggot nest you call a face. It is the fact that you are a grown-ass man throwing a tantrum because daddy didn't clap when you drew a stick figure."
He tried to lurch up. Mirko slammed. Crack. Rib, maybe. I grinned.
"Tell me something," I said, leaning in real close, "did he ever say he was proud of you? Ever give you a pat on the head that didn't reek of disdain and unresolved grief?"
He coughed. Blood.
I cut him off.
"Oh right, he couldn't. Because you turned his hand into a cum-soaked security blanket and now you wear it on your face like it's some kind of emotional condom. Bro, you are one intrusive memory away from moaning mid-fight and calling it daddy issues."
Mirko gagged a little. Not from the violence, from the sentence.
"ARGH!"
He roared like a pissed-off chainsaw, launched Mirko like a ragdoll, and charged at me like I cursed his father. Which I would never do.
I dropped low. Lower than low. I bent so far back even Hermes would dislocate his spine trying to limbo under my bar. His swipe cut the air an inch above my nose, missed by a breath.
He was still over me when I kicked up, full force. Boot met rib, and he went airborne like trash in a storm.
Mirko was already in the air, waiting.
"Catch," I called, sending him flying with a swing.
She caught him with her heel, smashed him mid-air, and I swung Wildcard Ex Machina into his gut like I was sending him into orbit.
"Homerun!"
"Fly out," she called, and kicked him back again. The bastard pinballed between us, limbs flailing, impact after impact turning him into a crash dummy.
Shigaraki hit a wall. Then the wall hit back. That was me. One more swing, his jaw clipped sideways, shoulder bent wrong.
"Your face looks like a scab that got rejected by skin," I said. "I have seen more symmetrical trauma in kindergarten art."
He snarled and pushed to a knee. I swung again. "Stay seated."
Mirko caught his foot when he tried to run, twisted hard. Something snapped. She kicked him into a row of crushed beds, then vaulted over and stomped down on his back.
Shigaraki ripped free from the rubble, running away. Bastard was already halfway toward the villa before anyone shouted. I bolted after, Mirko sprinting right behind me, hauling Aizawa by the waist like a sack of pissed-off bones. Endeavor had Manual slung under one arm, flames jetting behind him.
Halfway there, we met a group of people.
"Ryuu!"
Voices blurred, Momo and the rest called out, all sprinting from the ruins of the Villa. Machia slumped like a crashed bus at the city border, snoring on a damn Richter scale.
Good. That bastard was parked for now, one less headache to punch.
I didn't stop.
"Izuku, move away from others!"
Deku fumbled his landing, clumsy as shit, barely dodging Shigaraki who lunged like a crackhead chasing loose change.
I hit max speed.
Shigaraki reached.
Deku kicked first.
Fucking finally.
The bastard flew back a few meters, not far, but enough.
I stepped in. "Did you forget I was here?"
WEM snapped up. The steel crushed against bone with a sharp thunk. He reeled, barely, but his eyes locked to mine like a rabid dog finding meat again.
"Ryuu," Deku shouted, "his-!"
I grabbed Deku by the collar and yanked him back mid-stumble, "Close rangers, back the fuck off!" I barked. "If All Might could break your spine with a handshake, this clown can pop your lungs just by breathing near you."
I shoved him behind me, eyes locked on Shigaraki. He was twitching again.
"Range support, light him up from the edge. Do not step in. If you do, it better be because you are faster than death or dumber than me."
The bastard didn't even blink. He just tilted his head and cracked his neck, like he was wondering how many of us he could fold before someone cried.
"He has many Quirks. Base strength and regen. Decay doesn't need touch anymore. It spreads through air, ground, skin, doesn't care. Don't step into range unless you're suicidal or horny for disintegration."
Endeavor stepped up again, steam curling off his back. "He's mutating faster than the hospital reports suggested."
"No shit," Mirko rolled her shoulders. "We punching or what?
I grinned, "Sure. Let's skip ball."
Phantom Step kicked in. He blinked, and I was already behind him. WEM cracked the back of his skull, and he stumbled forward like a drunk toddler chasing relevance.
"Catch," I called out.
Deku did, foot-first. Shigaraki reeled again, spun mid-air from the hit, and got punted sideways into Mirko's leg. She didn't hold back, heel to ribs, sent him into a pile of collapsed IV racks and broken monitors.
He barely touched ground before I was there again. I slid between the rubble, leapt, flipped, booted him up from below the chin. He flew. My momentum stacked. I shot past him, caught a piece of rebar mid-air, spun, and hammered it into his shoulder on the next pass.
He screamed like someone paused his villain arc just before the murder monologue, and made him watch a fucking recap episode instead.
Izuku floated above like he forgot gravity was a thing. A new power he got recently. He slammed into Shigaraki mid-air, boots to the chest, and dropped him straight back to the ground.
"Endeavor! Coming your way!" I called, WEM already moving.
The bat didn't just swing, it detonated.
Shigaraki never hit the floor, Endeavor caught him in the ribs with another blast, flames rolling off like acid on meat.
Mirko knifed in and axe-kicked. Shigaraki rolled. Not fast enough. Her heel still grazed his hip, bone cracked. He hissed.
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