She simply stayed silent as the leaders of each group of villains negotiated with Shigaraki in his plan. She stood next to him, silently, just listening to their talking, and how they split up the money. There were some arguing, but for the most part, she knew what parts of speech to ignore and what not to ignore. Men dressed in skimpy, seemingly threatening clothes and props along with them didn't intimidate her, as she was taught from Father she had nothing to fear- she could just about beat any opponent that stood her way. She was trained for 10 years for the sole purpose of that, and here she was. None of them scared her, as she could easily overpower the majority of everybody in this cramped space. It wasn't overconfidence, it was simply from what she could see. These criminals were just petty thieves, or some that have done some sort of assault that wasn't very lift-changing to their victims, all very small crimes. Father had also told her to expect the unexpected, as they may not be as weak or as strong as one appears to be at first, but she couldn't help but observe just from their thinking pattern and their rationality, everybody in this abandoned building, minus a few or so, lacked any intelligence. 

Listening to them slur bored her, as her muscles were still tense from a couple night's punishment prior to tonight, as it was the heaviest and easily the most severe out of any she had received. Her entire body was broken by the time it was done, and her blood was sprayed around the basement by the time he was finished. Burns, cuts, bruises marked her body, and they were still apparent in the places where her skin was revealed. She didn't mind much though, not that she ever did to whatever Father did to her. If it meant he would love her more with each hit or smack, then so be it. Just anything to allow her to feel some sort of emotions, to feel some sort of human-like-ness in a sense. After her punishment, she still didn't feel any pain, and she cursed at her pain tolerance that her father had taught her. 

She had been exploring what had happened when she had attempted to eliminate the last member of the trio. Ever since she had failed that mission, she was pulled out of doing any more recruiting for the League of Villains, as she was deemed inappropriate and unable to follow their instructions to the fullest. Shigaraki had also decided to punish her, as that resulted in a scared stomach, with new skin still trying to heal. The 'Doctor' who had been there since she was born, had always been there after punishment, brought back to healthy condition or sometimes, brought her back to life if needed to. The latter only happened once or twice, Father told her, as he advised her to stop getting into trouble and disobeying him.  

However, as she grew, her body began to grow stronger with every time she was beat, her bones stronger than ever from when Father had first held her as a young child, she was nearly indestructible in a way. Her body accustomed to the often heavy and hard blows she received, creating some sort of resistance in a way. 

The Doctor scolded her usually, and especially did when she failed her mission, but unlike Father, he had always expressed his love for her. But Father was the one who was the closest to her, as the Doctor's love didn't matter to her. He appreciated her like the perfect specimen, the perfect tool to experiment on, and would ramble while he healed her how one day he would be able to play with her for his experiments, and create an even stronger weapon than her Father had imagined, but only if Father allowed so. Father and Doctor didn't like each other very much, but they had agreed on working together as it gave each other benefits. Once she had completed her purpose for Father, she would be donated to the Doctor. 

Her ears perked up when she heard Shigaraki call out her villain name. 

"Pulse, you are to battle any other heroes except for All Might that is to appear. According to our intel, only Eraserhead and Thirteen will be at the scene, but we must prepare ourselves for any unexpected events if things were to twist out of our hands. You all, you are not to interfere if she is to enter a fight with a pro hero. Is that understood?" 

She nodded herself. 

Her second mission was to invade UA's USJ (shortened for Unexpected Simulation Joint, later informed by Kurogiri). The League of Villains had especially trained her to how she should be handling the situation. She was taught that although killing was preferable, if she was not able to, it wasn't all that important, as they have planned that they would have more chances to kill the rest of the teachers- if they continued to have any issues with them. They could however care less about them, as if they are able to kill the Symbol of Peace alone, they would know better than to threaten their power.

Shigaraki was sure that his specially designed Nomu was more than enough to defeat Nomu, though her Father had privately commented on the male's stupidity and inability to think outside of the box and look for better, more efficient methods. His Sensei had told him not to interfere, as it would take away from Shigaraki's learning, Father would rant on and on about how much distaste she had to the blue haired male. 

Her eyes closed as she concentrated, inhaling a deep breath through her nostrils as her right hand raised upwards and bended back, gripping onto the handle and pulling her blade out. Her sword was made from fine metal that was notably created for her- as it was stainless steel, with sharpened ends and sides for her, for smooth, gliding-like movements through the air when she did use it. Her hand ran over the tip and the smoother, longer side of the weapon, admiring the reflection of herself displayed. 

She blinked as she faced a silver haired female, with piercing e/c gemes, and a sharp nose. Her lips were turned into a frown as she continued to stare at herself, examining the seemingly endless pits found in her eyes, how she seemed to sink and drown in those colors, emotionlessly gazing at the image of her face. Silver locks lightly brushed against her forehead, smooth hair that parted an inch to the right in the middle of her face. Her hair, which was of (h/l) long haired softly bounced light off into the glossy steel, the bright and vibrant pearly white grayish-hair, was combed thoroughly, courtesy of her Father that demanded proper self-care and grooming of her hair. 

She pulled her blade away from her face as her eyes shifted from the weapon in hand to the target at her, a cardboard cut-out of the number one hero in Japan, allegedly taunting her with the bright smile he held as he flexed his arms, his biceps prominent even in the art. She glared daggers at the unmoving picture of the hero. She hated that smile, Father had taught her that. 

Father had taught her many things, but one thing he specifically taught her was to hate All Might, not just be opposed to him. All Might was practically the creator of the world they lived in, the reason why the expectations in this world were what they were, the way society was like itself, he was the source of everything that has been going, and the reason why her Father had this goal. Father wanted to show everybody that there was no such thing as heroes and villains, as they were just paid actors for 'ordinaries' to waste their money and hopes on something. Without villains and heroes, without people being classified as 'good' or 'evil,' the world would finally orbit around on the sun on its proper axis. They were not needed.

Father had also taught her that his smile was a trap, that his smile was a trap for hopeless dreamers that believe they could be so great. Father simply hated most humans, as he found them repulsing. They were greedy, complicated, and far too varying and different. They were too complex and differentiated from each other too much. He didn't believe in the freedom of speech and press, and things like that, as only people who were worth it had the luxury of that right. That wasn't a right that anybody could just take- that was how conflict was created. Different opinions, different ways, different mindsets, that was what made conflict. All Might's smile evoked those ideas and gave hope that people could be so great and powerful when there was no need. They just had to serve their purpose for society. 

She also had a hope for All Might. She dreamed of a day that maybe All Might would bash through the nearest wall, defeat her Father, and perhaps she could have a better life than this utterly tiring and completely dull way of lifestyle she lived. She had given the No. One Hero a part of her limited and small hope that had been encased in her heart, but as she accompanied the League of Villains more and more, she had even more reasons to hate him. But the blue, red, and white costumed hero had not come to save the day with her yet. She had realized that he hadn't in the past fifteen years. Fifteen years were far too long to wait to be saved, as she had accepted the life she had, fully, motivated to the brim to bring whatever pleasure Father wanted as Father had told her that since it was her fifteenth year since he found her, he would have a surprise for her. 

Did that mean that he would finally love her? That she would finally be able to feel something; an emotion was what she desired. Could that possibly be her surprise? Was it willing to evoke some kind of feeling out of her? What was the surprise? What was it? Was it a gift? Perhaps a gift somehow? She didn't know, but she was a tad bit intrigued. Not that she would ever show it. 

Father said it would be given to her after she had completed her second mission, the USJ mission, and then she was to be given her gift. She wasn't aware, or able to have any bit of information to guess what it might be, after all, it wouldn't be a surprise any longer. Her eyes furrowed. 

The USJ mission would occur in a few days. She must do all that she could prepare. She raised her hand, gripping the blade tightly before she flung her hand, releasing the blade and cutting into the All Might cut-out, centering in his chest, which was already littered with other slashes, and damages done to the cardboard. 

She frowned. 

The Symbol of Peace better be dead in her next mission. 

"I-... I'm sorry for failing you," his raspy voice spoke. "From..." he gulped down an air of fear to say the next thing. "From Aizawa Shota."

Aizawa Shota. 

For some reason, that name has been in her head. She didn't know why, but it was there, engraved in her memory, like some kind of writing etched on stone. The familiarity of the name. Having said it a thousand times from her tongue, yet she didn't know the name, or recognize it at all, or even the image of the owner of that name, who was this person? Aizawa Shota? No, she had not encountered this name, especially a name of a pro hero nonetheless. She had never even met a pro hero, there was no possible chance she had a pro hero in her life. The only people she had been with were thugs, Father, Brother, and Doctor, along with members of the League of Villains. She was sure she had never heard of that name even once, having only discovered the male since the USJ incident, and she didn't even know his name from then. She wasn't familiar with him, yet, for some reason it all clicked, like she was meant to have known him, like she should know him, that name defied every piece of information in her head as she started questioning herself. There was no way she could have known him, that wasn't possible. Again, she tried checking the name, seeing if it popped up in her mind as her memory painted names of past faces she had seen and met. She scanned the few rare papers and news articles, not remembering once when 'Eraserhead' or 'Aizawa' or 'Shota' or even 'Aizawa Shota' pop up.  

There he laid, beneath her, surrounded in burning trees in the burning forest of the training camp Class 1-A was at. Where her sword laid beside his neck, ready to eliminate and erase this man's life in front of her eyes with her own hands. They were enemies, they have never met each other. She was sure that she had never met this male in her life, and then she realized something. She had never remembered a life past her waking up and finding Father walking into that room. No, that was just her being born. That was how people were born right? Yes, she had no memory because people were born no memory to begin with. Yet, for some reason, there was this odd and bizarre attraction to this male, this Pro Hero that took the alias, Eraserhead. The infamous and rumored underground hero that was dressed in midnight black from head to toe, with only his notorious scarf and goggles that contrasted with the color. Aizawa Shota, a person she knew little of, or perhaps remember. She was starting to doubt that at that moment when she woke up, she had a different life, a life she had lived further on. 

In her head, she kept repeating the name over and over again, and for some unknown and sudden reason, her chest and body grew increasingly warm. She didn't like the feeling, as it was one she didn't know or have experienced before, what was this feeling? Compassion, affection, perhaps...? No, she wouldn't dare say that. She was a weapon of destruction and only solely made for Father. Although she wished to be human and have human-like emotions, she couldn't until she had completed Father's goal. She realized that.  

Why was the black hero costume all of the sudden so familiar to her as well? Aizawa Shota... who was this man? What was he doing to her? To her mind? Making her question herself. Father wouldn't have wanted this. He was distracting her, he should eliminate her. Yet... there was this memory she couldn't quite just pull out, his hero classes and goggles creating a foggy image, yet it was smaller, and the goggles weren't quite the same. They were blurred, but she could tell his goggles weren't shaped in the same way as the goggles he was wearing now. Did that mean she met a younger version of him? Perhaps a less trained and more inexperienced version of the raven-haired male? Could she have met him in the past? But no- that didn't make sense! Again, how could she have? He had never popped up in her mind. 

Well... she had been lying to herself... a different form of that name had been taking place in her mind. Her mind still remembered a younger teenager that made her heart drummed wildly. Yet, she ignored that feeling, thinking it was just some hallucination she received from the training and the punishment- which was usually where she remembered. She tried to configure that name, changing the sounds and the spelling to see if it could feign familiarity to her. Could it possibly be him? The one she was thinking of? 

Name combinations that she had made were: 

Alex Smosh. 
Aise Stone.
Aaron Syota. 

Random names and that kept generating in the back of her mind that she had ignored because she simply thought they were just emotions to throw away. But they weren't... were they? Was this the man her mind had tried to solve the puzzle of the mystery name that was locked away in her memory? ---

'I'm sorry for failing you?' Why was this his choice of last words? Who could he possibly be talking to? Who was he referring to? Surely it couldn't be her? No, that was impossible- he just had someone in mind as he thought back. Someone that he had just met was surely not someone that would come to mind when they were at Death's doormat. Why was there this nagging feeling like his words were directed towards her? That didn't make sense at all, why would it be her? What made her think that his words were for her?

'I'm sorry for failing you?' If it really was meant for her, why those words? What could he have been failing at for her? It wasn't even meant for her, yet she felt for some reason, a twitch in her chest that she couldn't name. How had her body known to react to his words? She should be unaffected- this was a total stranger otherwise knowing his hero name and status, as well as of right, his first name and surname. 

What could he have possibly failed her at? Why? What did it mean? It was so vague and confusing, she didn't like the way it puzzled her brain, and she didn't get the answers- though she should be used to not getting her questions answered. That was why she hadn't spoken over years, until those three singular words that came out of her mouth in that second. 

Why were her first words to him? A hero, an enemy, a stranger, nonetheless, why had those words escaped her mouth. And ones of mercy? If she wanted to, she could have killed him then and there, yet why were they of mercy. Did she care for this individual? No, that wasn't possible. She couldn't possibly care for this man, after all he was a hero, and she was a villain. She killed, she hurted, she did horrible things, she couldn't possibly allow her new found 'emotions' (at least, that's what she thinks this is) to interfere with her mission and work. She knew that emotions were troublesome and problematic, only getting in the way of things. Father had told herself. Now she knew the reason why Father insisted not to feel anything. 

She snarled mentally, damn this hero. This male had done too much to her in a short amount of time, making her question and doubt herself. She didn't need this type of matters to think about. Was she becoming ruined? Was this ruining her? Deteriorating her purpose for Father? Was having these 'feelings' making her less worthy to Father as she was changing to something that wasn't part of Father's vision of her? ---

'Aizawa Shota,'?

Then it hit her like a pack of bricks thrown at her. It was so sudden, suddenly her head felt like it was going to explode just out of peer headache, like a migraine, but continuously growing more and more severe- a level that she suddenly couldn't comprehend as everything felt nauseous, her sight suddenly blurred and her surroundings and the male in front of her turned into blurry pictures- only able to make out shapes, forms, and color. What was happening? Her head was going to split in half at this rate! 

Was that- was that shock? Was that anger? She didn't understand. What was happening? Confusion as well? Was she receiving emotions right now? Why? Why was her mind hurting so much? From just repeating a name? Where did all these flashes of images appear- racing by her vision- what was happening? She couldn't breathe- she couldn't see, she was being blinded by everything. How was this happening? What was wrong? How had all of this happened? Why did it hurt so much? How could she make it split. 

Her mouth was agape as she let out a silent scream anda quiet plea for help, for just anyone; she had long forgotten where she was, who was around and what position she was, what she stood for, everything involving her past. All she could see was color, too many colors for her mind to comprehend, but also seeing blinding white- her head felt stuffed yet empty.  This agony... this was torment... she didn't even know what was happening. And she couldn't even fathom what this mental anguish felt like- it simply felt like pain.

Pain was what she was feeling. No, pain was what coursed through her at this moment. It surrounded her, completely encasing and overwhelming her easily, as it attacked every crevice and nook, her vulnerabilities and weaknesses being revealed and then abused. She keeled, placing her head in his hands, her palms clutching against her ears, holding them tightly. Her ears were ringing now, everything was starting to hurt. She could hear ringing, but also muffled voices, all types of different types of voices that she couldn't place a name or figure to- but she was hearing it. 

She tried to breath through her nose, but then captured scents that she knew she had never discovered before- they were a mix of smoke, a bittersweet-like smell, the smell of flowers, a revolting smell, the iron tinge of blood, so many different smells she was suddenly intaking. Where was she? Was she going insane? What was happening? She didn't know. She didn't know! She didn't know anymore! 

"Shota Aizawa!"

Everything seemed to have stopped in time as she was continuously in this circle of misery, images that went too fast for her to process, voices that were all mingled and muffled, all at different tones and volumes- loud, quiet, whispering and groaning, she couldn't tell anything at all anymore. 

'Aizawa Shota.'

The racing pictures of colors and shapes seemed to have slowed in time and finally, she was given space to breath as her eyes widened. She had fully gained consciousness of her surroundings. Here she was, with trembling arms holding the blade against his neck. Her eyes widened- what was she doing? This- how- why...? 

Why was Sho laying on the ground like that, laid across the grassy floor, completely entangled in his capture weapon, bruised and injured all over his face from what she could see? Why did he have tears in his eyes, why was everything about him... who was this type of Shota? What happened to... where was she? What was she holding? Why in the world was she holding this? 

Then that same blinding aching happened. 

Memories that she didn't even know she had began to resurface, and her mind was overloading from the thousands upon millions of memories suddenly being shoved into the crook of her mind, so much overwhelming feelings and sensations. So much emotions packed in one second, bursting her head figuratively, as she began to feel light-headed and dizzy as she stared. Her hands started shaking and the hand that held the blade became unsteady, dropping it. She groaned from the splitting agony inside of her head. She couldn't comprehend what was going on, but pictures, audios, sensations and emotions all ran and course through her body in a few meer seconds she was left in a quivering and dazed state that left her wondering, 'what was happening?'

Flashes of smiles, laughter, sobbing, all of those actions along with many others as she remembered the time she spent with Aizawa Shota, who was her childhood best friend and lover, someone she loved with her whole life, struggle through their years of life from elementary school to high school. 

Then, she got to the last scenes that started to play. Arguing, fighting, cutting, the disgusting feeling that grew inside of her stomach as more of these memories she could see in her head. She could hear the cries of herself, the screams of anguish that escaped her hoarse breath, so many things that erupted from within her that she didn't know. 

Why was all of this happening? How was she even here? What- what was going on...? She called out to him, her body shivering and trembling throughout every single bone and limb. To save her, to help her, to answer her questions. 

But she couldn't reach out to him as her vision suddenly became blank as she passed out. 

A/N: Sorry for taking so long to upload! Had to do something in the morning. Also this was shorter than I wanted it to be, sorry about that! Hopefully you like chapter and new perspective.