Chapter 36 - The Aftermath of Hero Killer: Stain

The morning light spilled through the windows of Hosu General Hospital, casting a soft glow across the sterile white walls. The room was quiet, save for the occasional beeping of machines monitoring vital signs. Izuku, Shoto, and Tenya lay in beds nearby, each recovering from their harrowing encounter with the infamous Hero Killer, Stain.

Izuku's green eyes, typically brimming with energy, were now dimmed by exhaustion. He had been turning over the events in his mind, trying to piece together what had happened. It didn't sit right with him—the way Stain had let them go. There was something more to it, something they weren't seeing.

"He let us live," Izuku muttered under his breath, as though speaking the words aloud would give him clarity. He furrowed his brow. "I don't get it. Why?"

Shoto, his face bruised but his demeanor composed, glanced at Izuku, his blue eyes cold but calculating. "You're right. He could've killed us at any moment, but he didn't. It's strange... almost as if he wanted something else."

Tenya, who had been staring blankly at the ceiling, slowly turned his head to face his friends. The weight of everything that had transpired was heavy on his chest. He felt ashamed, unsure of how to cope with the responsibility he felt.

"Shoto, Izuku... I don't deserve your praise," Tenya said quietly, his voice thick with regret. "I let my emotions cloud my judgment. I should've thought things through, instead of charging in recklessly."

Shoto shook his head, his tone firm. "No, Tenya. You were courageous, and you did what needed to be done. We couldn't just stand by and let Native die. You acted to protect him."

But Tenya didn't seem convinced. "I still regret what I said about Y/N. It wasn't fair of me... She's been through so much, and I... I should've been there for her."

The room grew heavy with the unspoken thoughts hanging between them—thoughts about you, their friend who had been taken by Stain. No one said it aloud, but each of them could feel the loss, the emptiness that came from not knowing where you were or if you were okay.

Just as the silence grew unbearable, the door creaked open, and Gran Torino stepped in with his usual low posture and sharp gaze. He let out a weary sigh, his eyes scanning the room as he walked in. His voice, though faint, carried a weight of urgency. "Keep your heads up, boys. Don't let it get to you."

Izuku's ears perked up at his mentor's words, and he straightened in his bed. "Gran Torino, do you have good news?" His voice trembled with hope.

Gran Torino's eyes softened just slightly. "We've placed a tracking beacon on Y/N. We'll find her."

Izuku's face lit up, a rush of relief flooding through him. "Really? You're sure?"

Gran Torino nodded, a wry smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Yes, really. But there's more. I need you to meet someone."

With a subtle motion, Gran Torino gestured toward the door. A tall figure stepped into the room, his presence immediately commanding attention. He was a massive man, his broad shoulders and sturdy build a sharp contrast to the more familiar faces of heroes Izuku had seen before. His head was that of a beagle, his ears drooping slightly in a way that added an eerie sense of seriousness to his demeanor.

The man bowed his head slightly. "Greetings, young ones," his voice was deep and firm, filled with authority. When he lifted his head, his beagle-like eyes locked onto each of them in turn, as if measuring them.

Izuku, Shoto, and Tenya exchanged confused glances. Who was this person? What did he want?

"I'm Chief Kenji Tsuragamae," the man continued, his tone brisk. "But I'm not here to talk about your battle with Stain, or the 'Dragon Hero,' as you call him. I'm here because I need to address your actions." He paused, his gaze sharp. "You shouldn't have faced Stain alone. It was reckless."

Shoto's eyes narrowed in irritation. "We couldn't just let him kill Native," he retorted. "If we hadn't acted, he would've been dead. You weren't there, Chief. You didn't see it."

Chief Tsuragamae's expression didn't change, but his beagle eyes glimmered with something between irritation and understanding. "I understand the need to act, but you have to think before you leap. Heroes don't charge in without considering the bigger picture. There's always more at stake."

Tenya, who had been clenching his fists at his sides, stood up, his body tense. "If we didn't act then, what would have happened to Y/N? Are we supposed to wait for another hero to come along? You can't expect us to stand by while someone we care about is in danger. You do care about her, don't you?"

There was a brief pause as the Chief's gaze softened just a fraction. "I don't care about individual students," he said bluntly, his words cold, but not unkind. "But I understand the situation. Y/N is powerful, and in the wrong hands, she'll be a dangerous asset to the villains. We have to treat this situation with the seriousness it deserves. We'll find her, but we can't be hasty. It's too risky."

Iida's eyes flashed with anger. "How can you say that?" His voice was a low growl, filled with frustration. "She's our classmate, our friend! She was hurt by Stain, she was kidnapped, and you're just going to sit back and do nothing?"

Gran Torino stepped forward then, his small stature still managing to fill the room with quiet authority. "Iida, calm down," he said gently, but firmly. "The Chief is right. We need to plan our next steps carefully. But we will find Y/N. You have my word on that."

Izuku nodded, though his anxiety was palpable. "But we can't waste time. Every minute we wait, Y/N could be in danger."

The Chief glanced at Izuku with a piercing look. "We're not wasting time. We're gathering intel. But you need to understand that rushing in blindly could cost lives. Yours included. We'll find Y/N. But we need to do it the right way."

The boys fell silent, the weight of the situation settling over them. The clock was ticking, and they knew every second mattered. They could only wait for the day they'd finally be able to rescue you.

But they wouldn't stop. Not until you were back where you belonged.

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The news of Stain's arrest cascades through the nation like an uncontrollable inferno, with Endeavor basking in the undeserved glory of capturing the infamous Hero Killer. Every newspaper, every broadcast platform, thunders with Stain's name—his ideology, his brutal crusade against hero society etched into the collective consciousness.

Tomura seethes with a quiet, dangerous rage. The Nomu—his meticulously crafted weapons of destruction—have been reduced to mere footnotes, overshadowed by the sensationalized narrative of Stain. His fingers twitch with barely contained frustration, knowing that the Hero Killer has stolen the spotlight he believed rightfully belonged to his own twisted vision.

The newspaper spreads lay before him, headlines blazing with Stain's name in bold, unforgiving type. Historically significant. Legendary. Meanwhile, the Nomu are mentioned as fleeting, forgettable aberrations—a mere side note in the grand spectacle of heroic triumph.

Turning to you with a predatory smirk that doesn't quite reach his eyes, Tomura gestures towards a grainy video still. "But not completely forgotten, I see," he says, his voice a low, malevolent purr. The frame captures a moment of raw, uncontrolled violence—you, raging against the Hero Killer, your movements savage and unrestrained, then subsequently subdued, controlled like a puppet with severed strings.

"The world knows now what a monster you really are, L/N," Tomura continues, his words dripping with malicious satisfaction. "No use fighting it anymore."

Bound and gagged, you can only respond with a primal, guttural growl—a sound of pure, unadulterated rage that seems to vibrate with the potential for imminent destruction.

Kurogiri materializes, his mist-like form coalescing into a more solid silhouette, a delicate porcelain teacup balanced precisely in his shadowy hands. The steam rises in elegant tendrils, carrying with it a subtle, calming aroma. With practiced, almost gentle movements, he undoes the muzzle restraining you, his yellow eyes—luminous and calculating—watching your every subtle reaction.

He helps you drink, supporting the cup with a surprising tenderness that contradicts his villainous nature. The liquid is warm, likely carefully prepared to be just the right temperature—not scalding, but hot enough to provide comfort. Each careful tilt of the cup is a calculated gesture, a silent reminder of the control they possess over you.

"It's nothing personal, L/N," Kurogiri murmurs, his voice a soft, almost sympathetic whisper that brushes against your ear like cool mist. "You'll be free soon enough, but remember, you work for us now."

Your eyes lock with his—your gaze meeting those distinctive yellow irises that seem to shimmer with an otherworldly intelligence. Instead of responding, you release a soft, enigmatic coo—a sound that is neither submission nor defiance, but something more complex. A strategic vocalization that reveals nothing.

Though currently in human form, you remain strategically silent. These villains will not earn the privilege of hearing your voice, of understanding the depths of your thoughts or intentions.

◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥

The hospital room hummed with a subdued energy as Tenya turned to Izuku, his voice measured and serious. "My hand," he began, holding up the injured limb, "it's more than just a physical wound. It's a reminder of my failure."

Izuku leaned forward, his own damaged hand instinctively flexing. "What do you mean?"

"I acted without honor," Tenya explained, his glasses catching the harsh fluorescent light. "Seeking revenge against Stain, I abandoned everything a true hero should stand for. This injury—" he traced the damaged skin, "—will remind me of that moment of weakness."

"You'll get it healed, right?" Izuku asked, concern etching his features.

Tenya shook his head firmly. "No. Not until I've truly become the hero my brother would be proud of. This will be my constant reminder."

A spark of understanding flashed in Izuku's eyes. He held up his own crooked hand. "I get it. My hand is the same—a memory of my mistakes, of the times I've pushed too far."

Shoto, sitting quietly nearby, couldn't help but interject. "This is because of me," he said, his voice laden with guilt. "Both of your hands—damaged because of conflicts involving me."

"Don't be ridiculous," Tenya responded quickly.

Izuku nodded in agreement. "We make our own choices, Shoto. These are our paths."

"I'm serious," Shoto insisted, his typically stoic face showing genuine concern.

The tension broke as Tenya and Izuku exchanged a look, then burst into laughter. It started soft, then grew, filling the sterile hospital room with a sound of genuine camaraderie.

Shoto blinked, confused. "I'm not joking," he repeated.

But their laughter only grew, a testament to their friendship, their shared understanding, and their unbreakable resolve to become heroes.

"We'll become strong together," Izuku said, extending his damaged hand towards Tenya.

Tenya clasped it, their injured hands meeting in a symbolic gesture of their shared commitment. "Together," he agreed.