Her eyes gleamed dangerously. "It's fine to use your full power too, you know! Don't hold back on my account. Show me everything you've got!"
I couldn't help but smirk. "If I stopped holding back, this might be over in an instant. You sure you want that?"
Her eye twitched and her competitive nature clearly triggered. "Don't underestimate me, brat! I'm the number five hero for a reason!"
She launched herself forward with explosive force, her kick coming at my head faster than before.
I sighed internally even as I dodged. 'She's more troublesome than I thought. But damn, this is fun.'
Most of my fights ended instantly—either opponents couldn't track my speed at all, or they were so outclassed that using even a fraction of my abilities ended things before they began. Even Mom wasn't a match for my speed.
But Rumi? Rumi could actually keep up. She could read my patterns, adapt to my speed, and counter with her own ridiculous physical capabilities.
'This is what training with a top hero should feel like,' I realized, grinning despite the intensity of the fight. 'Not overwhelming power differences, but thrill and challenge and also learning through actual combat against someone who can match you.'
We became blurs—one white streak and one yellow lightning trail—clashing across what remained of the forest. Every impact sent tremors through the ground. Trees that had somehow survived our initial exchanges now toppled as we crashed through them. The earth itself seemed to crater under the force of our movements.
Rumi licked her lips, her expression wild with battle-joy. "This is the best fight I've had in weeks! Months, even! Most villains can't take more than one or two hits before they're down!"
"Same for me!" I admitted, electricity crackling more intensely as I pushed my output slightly higher. "Thanks to my speed, most fights are over before they really start. Having someone who can actually keep up is... refreshing!"
We exchanged another rapid series of blows—punches, kicks, feints, counters, each of us adapting to the other's patterns in real-time.
Then, after what felt like hours but was probably only twenty minutes, I noticed her breathing had become heavier. Sweat glistened on her skin, making her hero costume cling to her athletic form. Her chest rose and fell with each breath, her curves moving in ways that my traitorous teenage brain immediately registered despite my best efforts to stay focused on the fight.
I gulped hard, forcing my attention back to her face. 'Focus, Kaminari. Be Professional. This is combat training. Do not be a creep.'
"Let's finish this with our best moves!" Rumi suddenly announced, her grin taking on a competitive edge. She leaped backward, putting distance between us, then began circling at high speed.
'She wants a finishing move? Alright. Time to show her something impressive.'
I started running, matching her circular path, electricity building around my body with increasing intensity. We ran almost arm to arm, two speedsters testing each other's limits as the lightning around me grew brighter and more concentrated.
I focused the electrical energy specifically into my right arm, letting it build.
Suddenly, Rumi broke the pattern, closing distance with explosive speed. Her leg came up in what would be a devastating kick, aimed perfectly to catch me while I was charging my attack.
I pivoted hard, electricity exploding from my feet as I changed direction. My right arm, now wreathed in concentrated lightning, came up in a devastating straight punch.
The attack launched forward like a thunderbolt given physical form—a concentrated beam of yellow lightning that tore through the air with a sound like reality itself screaming.
To my absolute shock, Rumi didn't try to block or counter but dodged.
At the last possible instant, she leaned low to the ground—impossibly low, her flexibility allowing her body to bend at angles that defied normal human anatomy—and my Raging Bolt passed millimeters above her back.
And then, while still in that low position, she used her powerful legs to launch an upward kick aimed directly at my exposed torso.
My eyes widened in genuine surprise. 'She understood my attack pattern from just this one fight! Recognized the buildup, anticipated the trajectory, and found the perfect counter! That's—'
I couldn't dodge—she was too close, moving too fast, and I was committed to my attack's follow-through. So I did the only thing I could: I redirected my Raging Bolt, swinging my electrically-charged arm down to intercept her kick.
At point-blank range, I released the full accumulated charge.
The explosion of lightning was absolutely massive—far more power than I'd intended to use, released in a desperate defensive burst.
Rumi's eyes widened as the electrical wave hit her at near-zero distance, the concentrated energy sending her flying backward like she'd been hit by a truck.
"Oh shit!"
I immediately abandoned everything else, pushing my speed to its limits. The world blurred as I accelerated, moving faster than the air itself, reaching Rumi before she could hit the ground or collide with any of the remaining trees.
I caught her mid-air, my arms wrapping around her as I skidded backward, my feet tearing furrows in the earth as I absorbed the momentum from both our bodies.
We finally came to a stop, and I quickly assessed her condition. Her hero costume was damaged—smoking in places where the concentrated lightning had made contact—but thankfully, she didn't appear to be seriously burned. I'd managed to lower my output at the last possible second, turning what would have been a devastating attack into something merely stunning.
Rumi's eyes were half-closed, her breathing shallow but steady. A wide grin spread across her face despite her obvious exhaustion.
"That was... intense, brat," she managed to say, her voice slightly slurred. "I like you more now."
Then she passed out, her body going completely slack in my arms.
I stood there for a moment, processing what had just happened, before sighing heavily and looking around at the destruction we'd caused.
The forest was done for. Completely wrecked. A massive wave pattern had been carved into the landscape, with yellow electricity still crackling across the ground in various places, slowly dissipating. Trees lay scattered in every direction, the earth was torn up like a giant had dragged claws through it, and small fires burned in at least a dozen locations.
'We destroyed an entire forest in twenty minutes. That's... actually kind of impressive and also maybe we should have chosen a different training location.'
I looked down at the unconscious Rabbit Hero in my arms. Her hero costume was damaged, exposing more skin than was probably appropriate. Sweat covered her athletic body, making her skin glisten in the fading afternoon light. Her breathing was slowly returning to normal, her chest rising and falling in a rhythm that my teenage brain was having a very difficult time ignoring.
I gulped hard, feeling heat rise to my face that had nothing to do with the exertion of our fight.
'She surprised me by dodging that move,' I thought, deliberately focusing on the tactical analysis rather than the very attractive unconscious woman I was currently holding. 'Most opponents can't react to Raging Bolt at that angle. But she understood my attack pattern from just one fight, recognized the buildup phase, and found the perfect opening. Her combat instincts are absolutely terrifying.'
I'd genuinely enjoyed that fight. The challenge, the back-and-forth, the feeling of being pushed to adapt and improve in real-time against a skilled opponent.
'This is exactly what I needed. Someone who can teach me through practical combat experience.'
But I also couldn't ignore the fact that I was currently holding an unconscious, sweaty, attractive woman whose damaged costume was leaving very little to the imagination.
'I'm a healthy teenage boy. A healthy teenage boy with a girlfriend—sort of girlfriend—almost certainly girlfriend after that cheek kiss this morning. A girlfriend named Momo who is smart, beautiful, kind, and who I genuinely care about.'
I took a deep breath, pushing down the teenage hormones trying to make me do something incredibly stupid. 'Time to get her back to her house before my brain completely short-circuits.'
I adjusted my grip carefully—making sure to be respectful despite the situation—and started running toward her home at a controlled speed.
.
.
.
Thirty Minutes Later...
Rumi woke up on her couch, blinking in confusion as consciousness slowly returned. I was sitting in a chair across from her, deliberately keeping distance between us while she recovered.
The moment her eyes focused on me, her grin returned. "Did you enjoy yourself while I was knocked out? Take any liberties with my unconscious body?"
I was absolutely speechless. "What?! No! I'm trying to be a respectable hero! I carried you home and put you on the couch and did absolutely nothing inappropriate!"
She laughed, clearly enjoying my flustered reaction. "Relax, I'm just messing with you. But you know, it's totally normal for a teenage boy to be interested in the female body. You don't have to be so uptight about it."
"I'm not—this isn't—"
"Besides," she continued, stretching languidly in a way that was definitely intentional, "since I lost our fight, I consider it your right as the winner to have certain... privileges."
"CAN WE PLEASE CHANGE THE SUBJECT?!"
She was clearly enjoying torturing me, but then her expression shifted to something more serious. "But in all honesty, kid, you're stronger than I expected. Way stronger. I don't think I have anything to teach you about power or technique development—you've already figured that stuff out on your own."
I leaned forward, grateful for the shift to professional discussion. "So what can you teach me?"
"Combat experience," she said immediately. "Real fight instincts that only come from years of actual hero work. You've got the power and speed, but you're lacking in practical application. Reading opponents, adapting mid-fight, understanding when to hold back and when to go all out—that's what I can give you."
She sat up fully, her expression intense despite her disheveled appearance. "Your physical conditioning is also surprisingly good for a speed-type. Most speedsters neglect strength training because they rely entirely on velocity. But you've clearly been working on overall physical development."
"Yeah, I've been training seriously from young age," I admitted. "Couldn't rely only on speed."
"Smart. That'll serve you well." She stood up, wincing slightly. "Now, I'm going to take a bath because I'm covered in sweat and probably smell like a gym locker."
I nodded, standing as well. "I should probably—"
"Don't peek," she said with a teasing smirk. "But if you do peek and don't get caught, consider it part of your stealth training."
I stared at her, completely at a loss for words. "What is wrong with you?!"
She laughed and headed toward the bathroom, which was unfortunately positioned near the living room where I was standing.
"I'm messing with you again, kid. But seriously—heroes need to be comfortable in uncomfortable situations. Consider it a test of your self-control."
Then she disappeared into the bathroom, and moments later I heard the sound of running water.
I stood there, frozen, my brain trying to process the absolute chaos that was Rumi Usagiyama's training methodology.
'She just tried to hit me at full speed as a greeting, fought me until we destroyed a forest, and is now testing my self-control by taking a bath within earshot and making suggestive comments. This woman is insane.'
The sound of water continued, and despite my best efforts, my teenage brain kept trying to remind me exactly how attractive my mentor was and how easy it would be to—
'NOPE. Absolutely not. I am a man of focus, commitment, and sheer fucking will. I did not come here to be a creep. I have standards. I have self-respect. I have a girlfriend—probably—who would absolutely murder me if she found out I was even thinking about this.'
But the sound of running water was really hard to ignore.
I looked at the bathroom door. Then at the front door leading outside.
'Let's get some air. That's what I need. Not creepy thoughts about my mentor in the shower.'
I bolted from the house at superhuman speed, leaving a small crater where I'd been standing.
...
[Three Days Later]
The next three days followed a similar pattern: intense training with Rumi in the morning, patrolling Hiroshima together in the afternoon, and competing to see who could save more people from accidents, crimes, or general civilian stupidity.
We developed a rhythm. She'd leap across rooftops while I ran through the streets, both of us reaching crime scenes before the emergencies were even properly reported. The local police started recognizing us on sight, and I'm pretty sure we made the local news at least twice.
On the third day, during our evening patrol, I decided it was time to set my real plan in motion.
"Hey, Rumi," I said casually as we stood on a rooftop overlooking the city. "How about we patrol Hosu City tomorrow instead?"
She raised an eyebrow. "Hosu? That's pretty far from our usual area. Why there?"
"Because you lost our fight on day one," I replied with a grin. "And I'm using my winner's privilege to choose our patrol location. You said the winner gets certain rights, remember?"
Her expression shifted from surprise to amusement. "You're actually holding me to that? Fine, brat. Hosu it is. But if we don't find any good action there, you're buying dinner."
'Hook, line, and sinker,' I thought, keeping my expression casual. 'Now I just need to be in Hosu City tomorrow night when everything goes to hell. Iida needs backup whether he wants to admit it or not, and I'm not letting the Hero Killer add him to the casualty list.'
...
Hosu City...
[Shigaraki's POV]
I stepped through Kurogiri's portal, the warped air behind me twisting shut like reality itself was being sewn closed. The rooftop was cold, the city lights spread out below like a buffet of targets waiting to be consumed.
Stain was already there, perched on the edge like some kind of demented gargoyle. His disgusting tongue hung out, his eyes gleaming with that nauseating conviction that made me want to decay his entire face.
"So this is Hosu..." I muttered, my gaze sweeping over the bustling streets, the blinking traffic lights, the countless civilians going about their pathetic little lives completely unaware of what was coming. "Livelier than I thought."
"I will reform this town," Stain announced, his voice carrying that sermon-like quality that made my skin crawl. "But for that... more sacrifices are needed."
'This guy's a complete psycho,' I thought, scratching at my neck harder. The itch never went away—it just got worse when I had to deal with idiots like this. ''Hero' is just a word. A title. It doesn't mean anything special. But he's built his entire identity around this delusional crusade.'
"'Hero' is a title reserved for those who perform great feats!" Stain continued, practically vibrating with fanaticism. "Too many undeserving people are calling themselves a hero... But in reality they're just money-worshippers playing dress-up and pretending to save people!"
'I don't get why Master thinks we need this lunatic,' I thought venomously. 'But after the raid destroyed most of our recruitment base and captured the majority of our members, we don't have the luxury of being picky. We need bodies. We need chaos. We need someone who can draw hero attention while we rebuild.'
Kurogiri reformed silently at my side, his misty form coalescing from scattered particles. He watched as Stain leaped from the rooftop and disappeared into the shadows below, beginning his hunt.
"How long until I can let the Nomu kill him?" I asked slowly, my tone carrying the barely restrained desire to watch this self-righteous idiot get torn apart.
"It depends on how well he performs, Tomura Shigaraki," Kurogiri replied with that maddening calm he always maintained. "Master wishes to use him as a catalyst. If his actions prove insufficient, then removal becomes acceptable."
My hand clawed harder at my neck, teeth grinding together. The memory of Stain's blade against my throat resurfaced—the humiliation of being lectured by this vigilante pretending to be better than us.
"All that high-and-mighty crap about 'real heroes' and 'fake heroes,' and he's still just playing vigilante in back alleys," I sneered. "It's almost precious how hard he's trying to make a difference."
"You shouldn't underestimate him," Kurogiri warned, his yellow eyes glowing faintly in the darkness. "Crime rates have dropped measurably in every city where he's operated. Some analysts even credit his presence with increased hero vigilance and improved response times."
That observation triggered something in me. My laugh came out sharp and cracked, bouncing off the rooftop.
"He's making the heroes better?!" The irony was so thick I could taste it. "So much for his stupid revolution! He thinks he's tearing down the hero system, but he's actually doing PR work for them! He's making them look more competent by forcing them to raise their standards!"
The itch was unbearable now. I forced myself to stop scratching before I drew blood and stared out over Hosu City. Slowly, my lips stretched into a grin that felt too wide for my face.
"Good thing Master gave me more toys to play with," I murmured, my voice taking on a sing-song quality. "If Stain wants to rampage through this city hunting 'false heroes'... fine. Let him."
Kurogiri nodded once. He understood what I wanted before I even finished the thought.
He opened a warp gate beside me, and from the swirling purple portal, hulking shadows began to emerge. The first wave of Nomu—muscular, twisted creatures designed specifically for urban destruction. Their exposed brains pulsed with unnatural light, their muscles twitched with barely contained violence, and their eyes held nothing but mindless hunger for chaos.
"But let's make this fun," I said, my voice dripping with venom disguised as honey. "Let's see who causes more chaos—the Hero Killer with his little blade and his delusional philosophy, or the League of Villains with our purpose-built monsters."
'Stain and I might have different methods,' I thought, watching more Nomu emerge from additional portals opening across the skyline. 'But we want the same thing in the end.'
"We both want these heroes gone," I muttered, my grin widening until my face hurt. "These fake symbols, these pretenders who think they can maintain order just by existing."
I spread my arms wide, embracing the moment. "So... let's play!"
More portals spiraled open across Hosu City—some on rooftops, others in alleyways, and several directly above crowded streets.
The timing was perfect: evening rush hour, maximum civilian presence, heroes scattered throughout the city on routine patrols.
Nomu began falling from the sky like grotesque rain. Others stalked forward from the shadows, their mouths opening in silent roars that would soon become very loud screams. Claws dragged across pavement, sending up sparks. Muscles rippled with unnatural strength as they prepared to tear through whatever stood in their way.
"Unleash them all, Kurogiri!" I commanded, my voice rising with gleeful anticipation. "Let them tear this city apart! Let them show these heroes what real fear looks like!"
"Yes, Tomura," Kurogiri responded.
He inclined his misty head slightly before expanding into a portal far larger than any he'd created before. From within the massive warp gate, eight normal Nomu emerged one by one—each a twisted amalgamation of stolen Quirks and modified biology, their deformed bodies and grotesque appearances designed specifically to terrorize.
They took positions on the rooftop below us, awaiting my command.
Then, finally, the true monsters arrived. Two sets of heavy footsteps echoed from the portal.
The High-End Nomu.
These weren't the mindless beasts used for simple destruction. These were intelligent, adaptable, capable of strategic thinking and coordinated attacks. The Doctor's finest creations—second only to the specialized Nomu designed to fight All Might himself.
I watched from my elevated position as the chaos began to unfold below. Screams started to rise—first isolated shouts of alarm, then spreading panic as people realized what was happening. Flames bloomed in the distance as Nomu began their rampage. Sirens wailed like dying animals as emergency services struggled to respond to multiple simultaneous crises.
Explosions rocked the quiet evening air, shattering windows and triggering car alarms across entire city blocks.
"They'll remember this," I whispered, my hands twitching with barely suppressed glee. "After tonight, they'll speak the League of Villains' name with the fear and respect it deserves."
A laugh tore its way out of my throat—loud, unhinged, echoing across the rooftops and mixing with the rising chorus of chaos below.
"After today, the Symbol of Peace will learn that he can't be everywhere at once! That his precious society is fragile! That everything he built can be torn down!"
I scratched at my neck furiously, the itch finally satisfied by the beautiful destruction unfolding before me.
"Welcome to the new era," I declared to the burning city. "Welcome to the League of Villains!"