...
For seven days, Kenzo had avoided work. For six days, the weight of Fuyumi's death had pressed upon him. Three days had slipped by since he issued his warning to Mortis, and two since he uncovered Hawks' dark affiliation.
And what had Kenzo accomplished in this time? Nothing.
The truth was, Kenzo felt himself teetering on the edge of sanity. His beloved girlfriend was gone, taken by a former friend turned villain, while Hawks, a trusted friend, was revealed to be entangled with the League of Villains.
Adding to his turmoil was the cryptic message from Hawks, delivered two weeks prior, hinting at impending chaos. Thirteen days had passed since then, and still, Kenzo grappled with whether to heed the warning or dismiss it as a false alarm. The uncertainty gnawed at him, leaving him paralyzed with indecision.
Now, Kenzo found himself sprawled on the cold marble floor of his kitchen, lost in a sea of thoughts, questioning the very fabric of his existence. As his phone rang for the third time, breaking the eerie silence of his contemplation, Kenzo stirred from his reverie. With a sigh, he rose from the floor, his limbs stiff from hours of immobility. Slowly, he reached for his phone, his heart heavy with a sense of foreboding. It was time to face whatever awaited him on the other end of the line.
On the other end of the line, Aizawa's gruff voice cut through the air, a familiar comfort in the midst of Kenzo's turmoil. "Kenzo, it's Aizawa. How are you holding up?"
Kenzo's lips curved into a faint smile at the sound of his mentor's voice. "Hey, Aizawa. I'm... hanging in there," he replied, his tone heavy with exhaustion. "Just taking a moment to clear my head."
There was a brief pause before Aizawa's voice sounded again, laced with concern. "Are you lying on the floor right now? Your voice sounds muffled."
Kenzo chuckled softly, a hint of sheepishness in his tone. "Yeah, I might be," he admitted. "Just needed a change of perspective, I guess."
Aizawa sighed softly on the other end, his tone gentle yet firm. "Kenzo, I know things have been tough lately. Losing Fuyumi... it's a lot to process."
Kenzo nodded, even though Aizawa couldn't see him. "Yeah, it's been... overwhelming," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
"But you're not alone, Kenzo," Aizawa reassured him, his voice unwavering. "We're all here for you. And if you ever need to talk, I'm just a phone call away."
Kenzo felt a swell of gratitude wash over him, a warmth spreading through his chest. "Thanks, Aizawa-sensei. I really appreciate it," he said sincerely, his voice choked with emotion.
Aizawa's voice came through the phone again, more urgent this time. "Kenzo, there's another reason I called you. I'm on my way to your place right now. We're heading to the police station in Hosu."
Kenzo's brows furrowed in confusion. "The police station? What's going on?"
"We've had a major breakthrough," Aizawa explained, the tension evident in his voice. "Highly ranked heroes are gathering there for a short meeting. We're planning a raid on the base of the Paranormal Liberation Front."
Kenzo's heart skipped a beat at the news, a surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins. "A raid? Are you serious?"
"Dead serious," Aizawa confirmed, his tone resolute. "We've been waiting for an opportunity like this, and now we finally have it. There's more than 300 heroes and heroes-in-training taking part."
Kenzo's mind raced with a whirlwind of emotions – excitement, apprehension, determination. This was it – a chance to strike back against the villains who had wreaked havoc on his life, who had taken everything from him.
"Count me in," Kenzo replied without hesitation, his voice filled with resolve. "I'll be ready when you get here, Aizawa-sensei."
"Good," Aizawa said briskly. "I'll be there soon. Get suited up and be ready to move out."
Ten minutes later, Shin rubbed his eyes sleepily as he shuffled into the kitchen, his gaze falling upon Kenzo who was already dressed in his hero costume, his expression resolute.
"Dude, where are you going?" Shin asked, his voice tinged with concern as he watched his friend with furrowed brows.
Kenzo glanced up from adjusting his gloves, his movements deliberate. "Aizawas coming to pick me up," he replied, his voice steady but tinged with determination. "I didn't mean to wake you up. We're planning a large-scale raid on the League of Villains' base."
Shin's eyes widened in alarm. "A raid? Are you serious?" he exclaimed, his concern deepening. "Kenzo, you can't go. Not in your state. You're still grieving, man."
Kenzo paused, his jaw tightening at Shin's words. He understood his friend's concern, but he couldn't afford to sit idly by while the villains continued to wreak havoc. He had to take action.
"Dude," Kenzo began, his tone earnest. "I can't just stand by and do nothing. Not when there's a chance to make a difference."
Shin sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I get that, Kenzo, I do. But you're not thinking straight right now. You're at a breaking point, and I'm worried about you."
Kenzo met Shin's gaze, his eyes reflecting a steely determination. "I'll be okay, Shin," he insisted, his voice firm. "I have to do this. For Fuyumi. For everyone they've hurt."
Shin hesitated for a moment, torn between wanting to protect his friend and knowing that Kenzo's resolve was unshakeable. Finally, he nodded, his expression resigned. "Just promise me you'll be careful," he said, his voice soft. "And that you'll come back in one piece."
Kenzo offered Shin a small smile, grateful for his friend's concern. "I promise," he replied, his voice filled with determination. "I'll see you soon, Shin."
With that, Kenzo headed out the door, his heart heavy but his resolve unwavering. He had a mission to fulfil, and nothing was going to stand in his way.
Kenzo stepped into the elevator, his heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and apprehension. The journey from the 77th floor to the ground floor felt like an eternity, each passing moment filled with the weight of his decision to confront the villains head-on.
As the elevator doors slid open, Kenzo was greeted by the sight of Aizawa's car parked just outside the lobby. The hero's stern expression softened slightly when he caught sight of Kenzo, a faint smile quirking at the corner of his lips.
"About time you showed up," Aizawa remarked dryly as Kenzo approached the car. "I was starting to think you'd forgotten how to use an elevator."
Kenzo chuckled weakly, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly at Aizawa's familiar sarcasm. "Sorry, Aizawa," he replied, sliding into the passenger seat.
Aizawa raised an eyebrow, his gaze lingering on Kenzo for a moment longer than usual. "You doing okay?"
Kenzo hesitated, his gaze dropping to his gloved hands as he wrestled with his emotions. "I'll manage."
Aizawa nodded in understanding, his expression unreadable as he pulled out of the parking lot and merged onto the busy city streets. "You know, Kenzo," he began after a moment of silence, his tone serious. "You don't have to do this alone. If you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here."
Kenzo's throat tightened with emotion at Aizawa's words, a lump forming in his throat. He had always admired the older hero, respected him not just as a mentor but as a father figure. And now, faced with the enormity of the task ahead, he was grateful for Aizawa's unwavering support.
"Thank you, Sensei," Kenzo replied softly, his voice filled with gratitude. "I'll keep that in mind."
As they drove through the bustling city streets, Kenzo felt a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness that threatened to consume him.
As Aizawa and Kenzo arrived at the police station, they were greeted by a sea of familiar faces – heroes from all corners of the city, their expressions a mix of determination and sympathy. Kenzo couldn't help but notice the way their gazes lingered on him, their eyes filled with unspoken condolences.
"Hey, Aero," one hero called out, offering Kenzo a nod of solidarity as they passed by. "Hang in there, man."
Kenzo forced a small smile in response, his discomfort growing with each sympathetic glance directed his way. He knew that his grief had become public knowledge, the images of his anguish plastered across social media for all to see. It was a vulnerability he wasn't accustomed to, one that left him feeling exposed and raw.
As they made their way into the large hall where the meeting was to take place, Kenzo took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come. The room was already filled with heroes, their voices murmuring in hushed tones as they discussed the impending raid on the League of Villains' base.
Kenzo's heart pounded in his chest as he took his place among them, the weight of their collective resolve pressing down on him like a heavy blanket. He felt a sense of solidarity in their presence, a shared determination to put an end to the villainous threat once and for all.
But amidst the sea of heroes, Kenzo couldn't shake the feeling of isolation, the knowledge that he bore the weight of his own grief alone.
As the briefing began, Kenzo felt himself slipping into a state of dissociation, his mind drifting further away from the present moment. The voices around him blurred into a distant hum, the details of the plan fading into obscurity as his thoughts turned inward.
Lost in the labyrinth of his own mind, Kenzo barely registered the words being spoken, his gaze fixed on some unseen point in the distance. It was a familiar sensation, this detachment from reality, a coping mechanism he had honed over the years to shield himself from the pain of loss and grief.
Aizawa's gentle nudge jolted Kenzo back to the present, his attention snapping back to the briefing as a question was directed his way. Blinking rapidly, he struggled to focus on the words being spoken, his attention snapping back to the present as a question was directed his way by the head of police.
"Aero, are you with us?" the head of police asked, his voice cutting through the haze that had enveloped Kenzo's mind.
Kenzo blinked, his focus sharpening as he realised all eyes were on him, waiting for his response. "Yes, sir," he spoke, straightening up in his seat. "I'm here."
The head of police nodded, his expression grave. "Good. We need you on the front lines of the base raid for this operation. You're especially proficient with long range attacks."
A surge of adrenaline coursed through Kenzo's veins at the prospect of being at the forefront of the attack. It was a chance to channel his grief, his anger, his overwhelming sense of loss into something productive – something that could make a difference.
"I'm ready," Kenzo replied, his voice steady with determination. "Whatever it takes to bring them down."
The head of police nodded in approval before continuing with the briefing, outlining the details of the upcoming operation. Kenzo listened intently, his mind focused on the task ahead, his resolve stronger than ever.
As the briefing concluded, the Police Commissioner stepped forward, his authoritative voice commanding the attention of the assembled heroes.
"Alright, everyone. We have a big day ahead of us tomorrow," the Commissioner began, his tone firm and resolute. "Our primary objective is to raid the League of Villains' base and apprehend their key members. Kenzo's team will be leading the charge, hitting the base head-on."
Kenzo's chest swelled with determination at the mention of his team's pivotal role in the operation. He exchanged nods with his teammates, a silent acknowledgment of the gravity of the task ahead.
"Additionally," the Commissioner continued, "another team will be tasked with securing the hospital where All for One's doctor is believed to be located. We need to ensure that he's taken into custody without incident."
The room buzzed with a sense of urgency as the heroes absorbed the details of the mission, their expressions a mix of anticipation and resolve.
"Remember, the safety of the civilians is our top priority," the Commissioner emphasised, his gaze sweeping over the crowd. "The students from hero schools will be assisting with the evacuation efforts, so we need to coordinate closely with them to ensure a smooth operation."
Kenzo nodded in agreement, his mind already racing with the logistics of the upcoming raid. He knew that the success of the mission hinged on careful planning and precise execution, and he was determined to see it through to the end.
As the heroes began to disperse, Kenzo felt a surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins. Tomorrow would be a day like no other, a day that would test their mettle and define their legacy as protectors of the city.
...
Shigaraki entered his dimly lit bedroom, his gaze scanning the shadowy corners until they settled on the figure curled up on the floor. Mortis, her red hair tangled around her face, looked small and vulnerable, her hands clenched into fists as if grappling with some unseen torment.
His heart clenched with concern as he approached her slowly, his footsteps echoing softly in the quiet room. "Hana," he murmured, his voice gentle as he knelt down beside her. "What's wrong?"
Mortis sprang to her feet with alarming speed, a flash of desperation in her eyes as she brandished a knife, pressing it against Shigaraki's neck with trembling hands. The sharp edge drew a thin line of crimson, a bead of blood welling up in its wake.
Shigaraki's heart skipped a beat as the cold steel grazed his skin, his muscles tensing instinctively. But before he could react, Mortis froze, her grip faltering as the knife slipped from her fingers and clattered to the ground.
Her eyes, once filled with frenzy, now held a vacant stare, as if she were lost in a labyrinth of her own mind. Shigaraki reached out a gloved hand, his touch gentle as he steadied her trembling form, his own heart heavy with concern for her fragile state.
Mortis looked up at him with wide, haunted green eyes, her expression a tumultuous swirl of emotions. "Tomura... I'm sorry. You- You're bleeding. Fuck."
Shigaraki reached out a gloved hand, his touch tentative as he brushed a strand of hair away from her tear-streaked face. "It's ok, Hana," he reassured her, his voice a soothing balm in the midst of her turmoil. "We'll figure this out together."
But as he spoke, Shigaraki couldn't shake the gnawing sense of unease that had settled in the pit of his stomach. Mortis' condition was worsening, her mind fragmented and adrift in a sea of conflicting thoughts and emotions. He knew that he needed to find a way to help her, to bring her back from the brink of insanity before it was too late.
As Mortis curled closer to him, seeking solace in his presence, Shigaraki made a silent vow to himself. He would do whatever it took to save her, to restore her to the person she once was – his friend, his confidant, his anchor in a world consumed by chaos. And with that resolve burning fiercely in his heart, Shigaraki wrapped his arms around her slim form, holding her close as they faced the storm together.
A few hours later, Mortis stood alone on the roof of the large manor, the cool night air swirling around her and playing with her long red hair as she took a drag from her cigarette, the ember glowing brightly in the darkness. Her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, each one more tumultuous than the last, as she gazed out at the sprawling forest below.
Lost in her own thoughts, she didn't notice the sound of footsteps approaching until a voice broke the silence behind her. "Mind if I join you?"
Startled, Mortis turned to see Hawks standing there, his winged silhouette outlined against the moonlit sky. Despite herself, she couldn't help but feel a flicker of unease at his sudden appearance. "What do you want?" she asked, her voice guarded.
Hawks shrugged, taking a step closer as he glanced out at the forest below. "Just thought I'd come up for some fresh air," he replied casually, his tone light. "Seems like you could use some company too."
Mortis eyed him warily, taking another drag from her cigarette before stubbing it out on the rooftop. "I don't need company," she muttered, her voice tinged with bitterness.
Hawks raised an eyebrow, his gaze unwavering as he met her eyes. "Maybe not," he admitted, his tone earnest. "But sometimes it helps to have someone to talk to. Especially when things get rough."
Mortis remained silent for a moment, her gaze drifting back out to the forest below. Despite her reservations, there was something about Hawks' presence that was strangely comforting, as if he understood the turmoil raging inside her.
With a bitter laugh, she spoke, her voice devoid of any genuine mirth. "I don't even know who I am anymore," she chuckled hollowly. "Everything's falling apart, and I don't know how to fix it. I don't even know what's right or wrong. I overused my quirk, and now, I'm completely insane."
Hawks arched an eyebrow as the redhead villain shrugged off her leather jacket, letting it fall to the roof. "I don't even know why I'm telling you this, of all people. The only person I trust is Shigaraki because he's the only person that understands. He's the only one that cares about me."
"Surely it's not that hopeless-"
"Sometimes I forget my name. Did you know I've forgotten my brother's name?"
Hawks leaned against the rooftop railing, his gaze fixed on Mortis with a mixture of concern and curiosity. "Everyone has their breaking point," he said softly. "But it doesn't mean it's the end. You're still here, aren't you? That means there's hope."
Mortis scoffed, a bitter edge to her tone. "Hope?" she repeated incredulously. "What hope is there for someone like me? I'm a lost cause, Hawks. A walking disaster."
Hawks shook his head, his expression serious. "No one is beyond redemption, Mortis," he insisted. "You have to believe that. You're not alone in this."
Mortis looked away, her gaze distant as she stared out into the night. "I used to believe that," she admitted quietly. "But now... I'm not so sure anymore."
Hawks stepped closer, his voice gentle. "What happened, Hana?" he asked softly. "What drove you to this point?"
Mortis hesitated, her shoulders tense as she struggled to find the words. "It's... complicated," she finally replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "But it all started when I died."
Hawks' eyes widened in surprise, his interest piqued. "Died?" he echoed, his tone incredulous. "What do you mean?"
Mortis sighed heavily, her gaze flickering back to Hawks. "I died on a mission. I overused my quirk, and I died," she explained, her voice tinged with bitterness. "Shigaraki brought me back. And ever since then, things haven't been the same."
Hawks frowned, his mind racing with questions. "Brought you back?" he repeated, his voice low. "How?"
Mortis shook her head, a haunted look in her eyes. "I don't know," she admitted. "But before I died, I seriously overused my quirk. It's like it fractured my mind into several different emotions. It broke something inside of me, and now... I don't know if I can ever be whole again."
Hawks raised his hand, a curious expression on his face. "Genuine question," he said. "Did you become a villain because Shigaraki saved you, or do you have another reason?"
Mortis paused, considering his question carefully. "Shigaraki saved my life," she replied, her voice firm. "I'll follow what he does. Even if that does make me a villain." A genuine smile graced her lips, illuminated briefly by the moonlight, before the weight of her turmoil returned, casting a shadow over her features once more.
Without another word, she made her way across the rooftop, the chill of the night air enveloping her like a shroud. With each step, the weight of her burden seemed to grow heavier, pressing down on her weary shoulders.
As she reached the door leading back into the manor, Mortis paused, casting one last glance over her shoulder at Hawks. There was a fleeting moment of hesitation in her green eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the brief connection they had shared in their conversation. Then, with a resigned sigh, she disappeared into the darkness of the night, leaving Hawks alone on the rooftop.
Alone once more, Hawks watched her retreating form with a mixture of curiosity and concern. He couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Mortis' story than she had let on, that there were depths of pain and turmoil hidden beneath her stoic facade. But for now, all he could do was watch her go, his thoughts lingering on the enigmatic villain who had bared her soul to him in the dead of night.
(3433 words)
guys listen to this its so leng