[YAMANOTE LINE – 1:06 PM]
The rhythmic clack-clack of the train on the tracks was a welcome relief from the chaos of U.A.
With his hood over to avoid drawing attention, Yuta leaned his head against the cool glass of the window, watching the urban sprawl of Mustafu begin to thin out into the greener outskirts leading toward Hinohara.
'Honestly ... I'm not cut out for this ..' His mind replayed the day in a dizzying loop. Nejire's absurd theories, the 'Big Three', and finally, Hatsume's manic demands to create me a 'baby'.
The term 'baby' was still ringing in his ears, along with the memory of the collective gasp from every student within a thirty-foot radius of the cafeteria table.
'She really needs to work on her phrasing,' Yuta thought, rubbing his temples.
Predictably, Hatsume didn't care about her choice of words and the potential scandal she caused.
The entire conversation revolved around one thing alone. The Manhole Cover.
In her words, seeing a high-spec student using a piece of sewage infrastructure as a weapon was a personal insult to the field of engineering.
Following which, she had practically forced him to sign a support request form right then and there, scribbling notes about "tensile strength," and material density before sprinting off toward the development studios, cackling about a "masterpiece."
'She's going to build me something ridiculous, isn't she?' He mused, leaning his head against the window. He could practically see the headline: "Hosu Vigilante Spotted Using Pink Jet-Powered Shield With Go-Faster Stripes."
He shuddered at the thought. Unfortunately, that was a far off disaster that could be managed. Meanwhile another potential disaster was probably waiting to rearrange its ugly head in the next two days.
Unfortunately, this one probably couldn't be avoided.
"Love child?"
The memory of Nejire's cheerful interrogation hadn't disappeared. If he couldn't forget it, he doubted the kids at the cafeteria would either. And in a school full of teenagers with quirks, rumors probably moved faster than Iida did on a sprint.
'If that reaches Aizawa-sensei…'
A drop of cold sweat prickled his neck. Mr. Aizawa already looked like he wanted to expel half the class on a good day. If he heard his "star student" being labeled as his illegitimate son, he didn't want to think about what would happen during the training sessions in two days.
'He might just expel me on the spot.'
Funny enough, Yuta felt it might genuinely happen as the worst case scenario.
The best case ... His training might be less "instructional" and more punitive.
His mind drifted further back, past Hatsume and Nejire, to yesterday's events.
'To think... It hasn't even been two months since the system came along.'
Since that PING! in the classroom, he had lived a decade's worth of trauma. Overhaul. Hospitalization. The Hosu Nomu. The Shinkansen ambush. Saving Ingenium, Crippling the Hero Killer, and after yesterday ... Probably put his name and his alter ego on a pale face bastard with a hand fetish's watchlist alongside a centuries old demon lord with no eyes.
And then there was the Stain
Dark thoughts crossed his mind as the train approached Hinohara. 'Perhaps, I should have killed him.'
It lingered, until the though of Eri's smile came to mind. It caused him to form one of his own. Ultimately, he let them go. It wasn't worth it sullying his conscience over him. Stain wasn't worth it. He would be better, live better. For them. Now, they were the only things that mattered.
Just then, the train car plunged into the darkness of the Inasa Tunnel. The same as usual.
However ... He who was looking out the window, noticed the difference. The walls disappeared. And they were ... Darker, should he say?
'Wait .. Is the darkness ... Moving?
_
[YAMANOTE LINE OVERPASS – 1:06 PM – MOMENTS BEFORE]
The railway tracks stretched out like silver threads across the elevated overpass, cutting through Mustafu's outer districts. Below, the streets bustled with afternoon traffic, completely unaware of what was about to unfold above them.
Just then, a warpgate opened in the middle of the tracks.
Following which, several figures stepped out. "Ah ... I hate the sun."
Shigaraki's hand twitched as he scratched his neck. "Oh well, guess I'll have to make do. It's going to be a happy day after all."
Beside him, Kurogiri's mist-form rippled in the breeze, while Kurono, Nemoto, and Mimic stood a few paces back, watching the horizon.
"He should be on the 1:05 from Mustafu Station," Nemoto said, checking his watch. "The Yamanote Line. It'll pass through here in approximately forty seconds."
"And you're certain he's aboard?" Kurono asked, his voice measured but tense.
"Certain enough," Nemoto replied. "My contacts confirmed he left U.A. ninety minutes ago. Given his residence in Hinohara, this is the only logical route."
Shigaraki didn't respond. He simply stared at the tracks, his reflection visible in the polished steel rails.
Kurono studied him carefully. The boy, because that's what he was, really, just a boy playing at being a king—had been eerily quiet since their conversation at the hideout.
The difference in the sinister demeanor between then and now was so different ... It was unsettling.
"Shigaraki," Kurono ventured. "What exactly is the plan here?"
For a moment, Shigaraki didn't answer. Then, slowly, he turned his head, and Kurono saw the grin stretching beneath the pale hand covering his face.
"You said you wanted revenge, right?"
"Yes."
"And you're willing to get your hands dirty?"
Kurono's eyes narrowed. "We wouldn't be here if we weren't."
"Good." Shigaraki's grin widened. "Because I'm about to show you what real revenge looks like."
He turned to Kurogiri. "You ready?"
The mist villain inclined his head. "The calculations are complete, Tomura Shigaraki. However, I must advise—sustaining a portal of this magnitude will require significant concentration. I will be unable to assist with extraction should complications arise."
"There won't be complications," Shigaraki said simply. "It's a train. It goes in a straight line. Even I can't screw that up."
In the distance, a low rumble echoed through the air.
"There," Nemoto said, pointing. "It's coming."
The silver bullet of the Yamanote Line emerged from the distant cityscape, sunlight glinting off its sleek exterior as it hurtled toward them at 90 kilometers per hour.
"What the hell are we doing here? Don't tell me we're attacking him on another train?" Mimic yelled, not understanding what they were going to do.
"We're not attacking him in the train idiot." Tomura replied blandly. "The train itself will do just fine." He had finally realized what was off back in the hideout. Thankfully, he had master to guide him, to show him the way. 'What's the point of finding out whether the brat and the vigilante were the same person? After all ... If I'm going to kill him anyway ....' His hands twitched. 'Why should I care?'
Kurono's breath caught. "Wait. You're not seriously—"
"Kurogiri," Shigaraki interrupted. "Do it."
"As you wish."
The air split.
One moment, the tracks ahead were clear. The next, a massive swirling void of purple-black mist materialized directly across the railway, stretching from one side of the overpass to the other.
It was enormous—easily fifteen meters wide, tall enough to swallow the entire train.
Mimic's eyes widened inside his puppet body. "You've got to be kidding me."
The train was seconds away now. Inside, the Hassaikiai could imagine the scene—passengers reading newspapers, students listening to music, salarymen dozing after long shifts. All of them completely unaware they were about to vanish.
"Shigaraki, there are civilians on that train! Fifty, maybe more ..."
"I know," Shigaraki said, not looking away from the approaching train.
"Then ..."
"I. Don't. Care." Everyone was stunned.
And hence, without time to register the obstacle, the train shot through the overpass .... Right into the warp gate.
__
'Wait .. Is the darkness ... Moving?'
Yuta's eyes widened.
Just then, the light came instantly. And the moment it did ... The world tilted.
The sudden absence of weight that filled frankly caught him off guard. Not just him, everyone in the cart was startled at what happened next.
"What—?!"
The scream died in Yuta's throat as gravity simply ceased to exist for a heartbeat before slamming back into play in the wrong direction.
The floor vanished. People who had been dozing seconds ago were launched into the air, their bodies colliding with the ceiling and the luggage racks with painful thuds.
Yuta felt the air leave his lungs as he was thrown toward the side window.
His instinctive reflexes kicked in before his conscious mind could even scream. Channeling chakra into his feet.
Fwoosh!
He slammed into the reinforced glass window, but instead of bouncing off, he stuck. His knees buckled, absorbing the momentum.
'Dammit! Not again!'
Yuta's eyes turned scarlet. First the train to Osaka, then the train to Hosu, and now this train. If he survived this, the HPSC might just ban him from entering public transport at this point.
Through the spinning three-tomoe vision, he saw the nightmare. The passengers were being tossed like dice in a cup.
Luggages, clothes, magazines, suitcases, bodies, everything was flying in different directions.
Wondering what villain was attacking now, he looked down for a split second and saw through the glass he stood on.
The sight made his heart stop. Outside, there was no tunnel and no concrete.
The scenery outside changed fast, from sky blue to a swirling purple, spinning as if they were falling from a great height, and thousands of feet beneath the tumbling train car—was a vast, dark expanse he had hardly ever had the pleasure of seeing.
'Water?'
_
Before the thought could even finish, the carriage reached the end of its parabolic arc. The "falling" feeling intensified into a gut-wrenching roar of wind. The train car, isolated and severed from the rest of the line, was a silver bullet aimed at the heart of an ocean he didn't recognize.
"Hold on to something!" Yuta roared, though he knew the unconscious or stunned passengers couldn't hear him.
He lunged for a nearby seat, trying to snag a businessman who was floating toward the center of the car, but the speed of their descent was too great.
CRACK.
The sound was akin to an explosion.
The impact with the water was so violent that the reinforced glass Yuta was standing on shattered into a thousand pieces. The silence of the sky replaced by the deafening, freezing roar of the sea. Cold, salt-heavy water exploded into the cabin with the force of a fire hose, instantly filling the space.
Beneath the waves, Yuta's Sharingan's observed his surroundings. Bubbles, floating debris. He felt his lungs burn instantly from the shock of the cold. Through the murky water, he saw the sinking carriage, the trapped people, and the endless blue-black void stretching out in every direction.
The answer was clear now. Someway, somehow, he had fallen into the ocean.
___
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