The heavy doors of the Heights Alliance dormitory slid shut behind Akaza, cutting off the chill of the night air. The silence of the entryway was a stark contrast to the racket of destruction he had just left behind at the harbor.
He let out a slow breath, rolling his shoulders to work out the tension. The "Dark" armor was stored away, the high-collared white coat replaced by his standard casual wear, but the weight of the mission still clung to him like a second skin. The smell of pulverized concrete, and the metallic tang of blood — villain blood, Nomu blood — seemed to linger in his nostrils.
He was tired. Not physically — his Battle God quirk and the Internal Kinetic Reinforcement ensured his stamina was nearly bottomless — but mentally. The constant switching between "Student" and "Executioner," the balancing act of living two lives, was beginning to weigh on him.
He walked into the common room, expecting it to be empty. It was late, well past curfew. He expected darkness and silence.
Instead, he walked into a room full of eyes.
The lights were on, and they were all there. Not just Rumi, Shoto, and Bakugo. Everyone.
Izuku Midoriya sat on the edge of the sofa, his hands clasped tight between his knees, his leg bouncing nervously. Ochaco Uraraka stood by the window, looking anxious. Tenya Iida was pacing near the kitchen island. Kirishima, Kaminari, Mina, Jiro... the entire class was gathered, waiting.
As Akaza stepped onto the rug, every head snapped toward him. The conversation died instantly. The air in the room grew heavy.
He stopped, his hands in his pockets, his expression shifting into his usual mask of bored indifference. He scanned the room.
"What?" he asked, his voice flat. "Did someone die? Or is this one of your little plans?"
No one laughed. The tension was too thick, a physical weight pressing down on them all.
For a long moment, nobody moved. Then, slowly, shakily, Izuku Midoriya stood up.
He looked different. The nervous, stuttering boy who usually shrank away from confrontation was gone. In his place was someone... resolute. His green eyes, usually wide with innocence or panic, were hard, burning with a quiet, intense green fire. He took a breath, squared his shoulders, and walked across the room until he stood five feet from Akaza.
Then, without a word, he bowed. It wasn't a polite, social bow. It was a deep, ninety-degree bend at the waist, a gesture of unwavering respect and gratitude.
"Thank you," Izuku said, his voice ringing clear in the silent room.
Akaza raised an eyebrow, genuinely confused. "For what? I haven't done anything to you today."
Izuku straightened up, meeting Akaza's gaze without flinching. "For the Joint Training. For stopping me."
Akaza blinked. "That? That was a while ago."
"I know," Izuku said, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "But I never said it properly. When... when Blackwhip exploded... when that power went berserk... I was terrified. I thought I was going to hurt everyone. I thought I was going to destroy everything."
He took a step closer. "But you didn't run. You didn't hesitate. You stepped right into the storm. You caught a power you didn't understand with your bare hands, and you held it back. You yelled at me. You told me to dominate it. You saved me from myself, Akaza-kun. If you hadn't been there... I don't know what would have happened."
Akaza stared at him. He remembered the black tendrils, the raw, chaotic energy of One For All lashing out. He shrugged. "You were making a mess. I cleaned it up. Don't read too much into it."
He turned to walk away, dismissing the gratitude. He wanted a shower. He wanted to sleep, but if Eri was awake, he would spend time with her.
"He's not done, Aki."
A hand grabbed his wrist. It wasn't rough, but it was firm. Rumi was there, standing beside him. She wasn't smiling her usual feral grin. Her expression was serious, her amber eyes soft but insistent. She nodded toward Izuku. "Listen to him."
Akaza sighed, but he didn't pull his hand away. He turned back to the green-haired boy. "Alright. What else?"
Izuku took a deep breath. He looked around the room, at his classmates — the "fakes," the believers, the skeptics. He looked at Bakugo, who was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, watching with sharp, red eyes. He looked at Shoto, who was observing with his usual stoic calm.
Then he looked back at Akaza.
"I've been thinking," Izuku began, his voice trembling slightly, not with fear, but with the sheer weight of what he was about to say. "A lot. About what happened at the summer camp. About Muscular. About what Kacchan said to us that night. About Aoyama."
"I've spent my whole life looking at one back," Izuku continued, his voice gaining strength. "All Might. The Symbol of Peace. To me, he was everything. He was the perfect hero. He saved everyone with a smile. He never killed. He never crossed the line. I wanted to be that. I thought I had to be that."
He looked down at his own scarred hands, the hands that held a power passed down through generations of dreamers.
"But... the world isn't a comic book. I learned that the hard way. I saw Eri... I saw her walk away because I was too weak to grab her. I saw my friends broken in the forest because we weren't strong enough to stop the villains."
He looked up, his gaze piercing. "And I saw you."
"I saw you do what I couldn't," Izuku said. "I saw you make the choice I was too afraid to make. You saved them. You saved Rumi-san. You saved Kota. You saved Momo and Mina. You stopped a monster that would have killed us all."
The room was deadly silent. Even Bakugo seemed to be holding his breath.
"I've tried," Izuku admitted, his voice cracking with raw honesty. "I've tried to see the world the way you do. I've tried to tell myself that I could do what you did. That I could cross that line if I had to."
He paused, a long, heavy silence stretching between them.
"But I can't."
Izuku shook his head slowly. "No matter how much I try, I can't change who I am. I can't be you, Akaza. I can't be the executioner. It's... it's not in my heart. I still believe in saving people. I still believe that everyone deserves a chance, even if it's naive. I can't throw that away. If I did... I wouldn't be me anymore."
Akaza's expression didn't change. "So? Is this the part where you preach to me again? Where you tell me I'm wrong?"
"No," Izuku said firmly.
He stepped forward again, closing the distance to arm's length.
"I will never be you," Izuku stated, his voice ringing with a newfound conviction. "But... I will fully support your ways."
A collective gasp went through the room. Uraraka's hands flew to her mouth. Iida's glasses slid down his nose. Even Shoto's eyes widened slightly. This was Izuku Midoriya. The boy who breathed heroism. The boy who was practically All Might's spiritual son. And he was condoning Akaza's path.
"Midoriya..." Iida whispered, shocked.
"I've seen too much to pretend otherwise," Izuku said, not looking at his classmates. His focus was entirely on Akaza. "After everything... the League, the Nomus, Overhaul, Aoyama ... if there is one thing I have understood, it is that sometimes... force is needed. Absolute, definitive force. There are threats that cannot be talked down. There are monsters that cannot be saved."
He looked Akaza in the eye.
"And you... you can do that. You have the strength, the resolve, and the will that I lack. You can go to the places I can't. You can make the choices I can't."
Izuku extended his hand.
"So," he said, a small, determined smile breaking through his serious expression. "I have a proposal. I will be the light. I will be the hope that people look up to, the smile that reassures them that everything will be okay. And you... you be the fear."
"The fear?" Akaza repeated, amused.
"The fear for the villains," Izuku clarified. "The shadow that keeps the monsters in check. The deterrent. You handle the darkness that the light can't reach. And I'll protect the light that the darkness tries to snuff out."
Izuku took a deep breath. "Because I believe... if we do this... if we work together, as two sides of the same coin... we will be able to create a society with no issues. A society where people like Kota don't lose their parents. Where people like Eri don't have to suffer. We can lead the future of heroes. Together."
He held his hand there, waiting.
Akaza stared at the outstretched hand. He stared at the boy who, months ago, had looked at him with fear and judgment. The boy who had preached about rules and ethics while his friends were bleeding.
Well, Akaza thought, a genuine, private amusement bubbling up in his chest. Character development, lol.
It was impressive. The kid had actually grown up. He wasn't just a blind idealist anymore; he was a pragmatist with a heart of gold. He had found a way to reconcile his own nature with the harsh reality of their world without breaking either.
Akaza smiled. It wasn't his usual cold smirk. It was the smile he saved for Rumi, for Eri. A smile of acceptance.
"You're crazy, Midoriya," Akaza said, shaking his head.
He reached out and clasped Izuku's hand. His grip was firm, iron-hard.
"But I like it."
He shook Izuku's hand.
"Let's do this together."
For a second, the room was silent. Then, it exploded.
"YEAH!" Kirishima roared, throwing his arms in the air, tears streaming down his face. "SO MANLY! THAT WAS THE MANLIEST THING I'VE EVER HEARD!"
"Finally!" Mina cheered, jumping up and down. "The class is back together!"
"It is a logical compromise!" Iida announced, chopping the air frantically to hide his own emotion. "A division of labor based on aptitude and moral inclination! Excellent strategy!"
"You guys are so dramatic," Jiro laughed, wiping her eye.
Uraraka ran forward, beaming. "Deku-kun! Akaza-kun! That was amazing!"
Bakugo pushed himself off the wall. He walked over to the pair, his hands in his pockets. He looked at Izuku, then at Akaza.
"Took you long enough to figure it out, nerd," Bakugo grunted. "But don't think this means you're ahead of me. I'm still gonna beat both of you."
"Dream on, Blasty," Rumi said, slinging an arm around Akaza's neck and leaning into him. "You're fighting for third place now."
"HAH?! YOU WANNA GO, RABBIT?!"
"Bring it, Pomeranian!"
Shoto walked over, a rare, small smile on his face. "It seems we have a plan for the future."
"Yeah," Akaza said, looking around the room. The fear was gone. The judgment was gone. In its place was a new understanding. They weren't just classmates anymore. They were a unit. A complex, messy, dangerous unit with different methods and different ideals, but a unit nonetheless.
Eri, who had been watching from the top of the stairs, clutching her cat plushie, walked down timidly. She saw the smiles. She saw the cheers. She saw Akaza surrounded by people who weren't looking at him with fear, but with respect.
She walked over and tugged on Akaza's pants leg.
"Aki?" she whispered. "Is everyone happy?"
Akaza looked down at her. He picked her up, settling her on his arms.
"Yeah, Eri," he said, looking at Izuku, who was currently being strangled in a headlock by a tearful Kirishima. "Everyone is happy."
"That's good," she said, resting her head on his shoulder. "I like happy."
"Me too, love," Akaza said.
He looked at Izuku one last time. The green-haired boy caught his eye and nodded. The pact was sealed.
Hope and Fear. Light and Shadow. The future Number One Heroes had just formed their alliance. And the world had no idea what was coming.