"There is one development, though not one I feel you would care for."
"Oh, and what's that?"
"The vigilante who fought Stain should not exist."
Silence.
Shigaraki's hand paused mid-scratch, fingers hovering over the raw welts on his neck. His red eyes narrowed behind Father's palm.
"What?"
"The vigilante," Kurogiri repeated calmly. "The one who interfered with the Hero Killer's attack on Ingenium. According to our previous intelligence, he should not exist."
Shigaraki stared at him blankly.
"Kurogiri." His voice was flat. "What the hell are you talking about?"
He had no idea where this was coming from. What vigilante?
From the corner, Rappa lowered his arms, attention shifting toward the conversation. Even Deidoro seemed marginally more alert, though that might have just been the sake wearing off.
Kurogiri's yellow eyes gleamed as he continued polishing the glass.
"My apologies. I should provide context." He set the glass down with a soft clink. "Several weeks ago, when the Shie Hassaikai collapsed following Overhaul's death, Sensei took interest in the circumstances surrounding the incident."
Rappa's expression darkened slightly at the mention of his former boss.
"Rappa provided his account—a teenager attempted to protect a girl, Overhaul engaged, and the boy killed him through means that surprised even Rappa." Kurogiri's tone remained neutral. "However, when Sensei investigated further, the police reports told a different story."
Shigaraki's scratching resumed, slower now. "Different how?"
"The boy, ..."
Kurogiri's gaze shifted to the television. On the screen, a looped recording of the Sports Festival played. Specifically, the moment Yuta Akutami had used the Body Flicker to vanish before Todoroki's ice.
"Him?"
"Correct. In the reports, Yuta AKUTAMI claimed he did not kill Overhaul." Kurogiri's gaze shifted slightly toward Rappa. "He stated that a masked vigilante appeared at the last moment and killed Overhaul before he himself could die from his injuries. White hair. Masked face. Scar over the left eye."
Rappa frowned. "That's not what happened."
"Precisely." Kurogiri inclined what passed for a head. "Your testimony and the boy's statement directly contradicted each other. Sensei concluded the boy fabricated the vigilante to avoid legal complications. A clever deflection to explain Overhaul's death while maintaining his own innocence."
"Smart," Deidoro muttered, taking another swig. "Kid knows how to cover his ass."
"Indeed. The matter was filed away as resolved." Kurogiri paused. "Until today."
Shigaraki's eyes narrowed. "Today? You don't mean?"
"Indeed. The Hero Killer engaged Ingenium in Hosu. Stain had the upper hand and was moments from delivering a fatal blow." Kurogiri's voice remained measured. "Then someone interfered. A masked individual matching the exact description from the incident."
The room went still.
Rappa's eyes widened slightly. "You're saying—"
"The vigilante that should have been a fabrication... appeared in Hosu and fought the Hero Killer."
"Bullshit," Rappa said immediately. "I was there. I saw what happened. There was no vigilante. Just the kid and Overhaul."
"Your account has never been in question," Kurogiri said calmly. "Which makes this development all the more troubling. Either the boy possessed knowledge of this vigilante's existence and used him as a convenient scapegoat, or ...."
"Or the vigilante is real and was there without you seeing him," Shigaraki finished, scratching harder. "Which means either you missed something, or this vigilante has a quirk that lets him hide."
Rappa's expression turned grim. "I don't miss things. If someone else had been there, I would've seen them."
"Yet the vigilante exists," Kurogiri countered. "I witnessed him myself. His combat capabilities were significant enough to match stain and force him into retreat."
Shigaraki's fingers drummed against the table, four taps followed by silence.
"So what you're saying is—"
"You need not mention further, Kurogiri."
A voice cut in before the warp gate could continue.
Deep. Calm. Authoritative.
It emerged from a speaker mounted on the wall. A plain black box that had been silent until now.
Shigaraki's head snapped toward the screen adjacent to the speaker, where a blank display suddenly lit up with a distorted audio waveform.
"Master?"
"You need not concern yourself with this matter, Tomura, as it is not important to your training." The voice uttered. "Pondering it further will only serve as a distraction."
"Rather, you should focus more on your recruitment efforts to expand the League for your next public appearance. A man of Stain's caliber and reputation joining you will significantly help with that."
Shigaraki's expression darkened.
"We've already tried, Master. The guy's too stuck up to join. Rejected our offer without so much as giving it a second thought."
"Nothing good comes easy, Tomura." The voice remained patient, but firm. "Or has your previous learning experience at the U.S.J. taught you nothing?"
Four fingers pressed into the wood of the table.
He remembered all too well. His underlings, easily beaten by children. Beaten again by All Might and the pros. They were practically there to make up the numbers.
"To prevent a similar scenario, you must build your League with capable subordinates who will be a help to you, not a burden." All For One instructed. "The Hero Killer is not only strong but also experienced. A perfect fit for your current state."
Standing aside, Kurogiri's misty form shifted slightly, his yellow eyes narrowing.
"Master, the Hero Killer Stain is... singular in his convictions." His voice carried carefully chosen words. "His interest in cooperation is minimal, and his devotion to his goals is absolute."
"A fanatic, that's what he is," Tomura grumbled, scratching harder at his neck.
Kurogiri continued. "Tomura, however, cares only about ..." He paused, avoiding the words 'Wanton Violence' "... dismantling the current system through force. I doubt he and the Hero Killer will find common ground once they officially meet. It may be a risky endeavor."
"Be that as it may, it is essential." The voice replied without hesitation. "From the looks of it, it's the only way he'll learn anything. You need not worry too much, Kurogiri. Let nature take its course."
He paused. Then, directed his words to Shigaraki:
"I will be watching your performance, Tomura."
The speaker clicked.
The screen went dark.
Silence settled over the bar like a heavy blanket.
Shigaraki sat perfectly still for three long seconds, fingers frozen mid-scratch.
Then he slammed his hand down on the table—all five fingers this time.
The wood immediately began to crumble, disintegrating into gray ash that scattered across the floor.
"Dammit!" He stood abruptly, chair scraping loudly against the floor. "Ten minutes in and I already hate this Stain bastard before even meeting him!"
Kurogiri didn't flinch. "Master's instructions are clear. We must devise a method of approaching the Hero Killer to guarantee the highest chances of successful recruitment."
"Yeah, you do that." Shigaraki turned toward the back hallway, scratching furiously at his neck as he walked. "I'm outta here."
"Tomura—"
"I said I'm outta here!"
His voice echoed through the bar as he disappeared into the darkness of the corridor, leaving only the sound of aggressive scratching and muttered curses in his wake.
Kurogiri watched him go, yellow eyes unreadable.
Rappa crossed his arms, leaning back against the wall. "Your boss is a piece of work."
"He is learning," Kurogiri said.
"Learning? Well he better do it fast, or I might have to start looking for a next stop."
Kurogiri didn't respond.
Instead, he turned his attention back to the bar, resuming his methodical polishing of glasses that didn't need cleaning.
As for the table .... They would have to get a new one.
Deidoro raised his bottle in a lazy salute. "Well... that was fun. Anyone else want sake now?"
"No," Kurogiri and Rappa said in unison.
"Your loss," Deidoro muttered, taking another swig.
The TV continued playing in the background—Sports Festival highlights cycling endlessly.
[ELSEWHERE — ALL FOR ONE'S SANCTUM]
In a dimly lit chamber filled with medical equipment and the faint hum of life-support machinery, a figure sat motionless in a reinforced chair.
His face was a ruin. Scarred, eyeless, held together by advanced medical intervention.
All For One.
He listened to the silence following his conversation with Tomura, fingers steepled beneath what remained of his chin.
"So things are different from expected," he murmured to himself.
Dr. Garaki, short, hunched, and perpetually anxious, adjusted his glasses nearby. "The vigilante's appearance complicates matters, doesn't it?"
"Complicates?" All For One's ruined lips curved into something approximating a smile. "On the contrary, Doctor. It clarifies."
"Clarifies what?"
"That the boy was telling the truth." All For One's tone carried faint amusement. "Or at least, a version of it."
Garaki blinked. "You believe the vigilante is real?"
"Oh, he's real." All For One leaned back slightly. "The question is not whether he exists, but who he is."
"And the boy?"
"An anomaly." All For One's fingers drummed against the armrest. "An initially weak quirk, yet capable of surviving deconstruction. It's surely interesting."
"Quirk evolution?" Garaki suggested.
"Possible. But unlikely to that degree in such a short time." All For One's smile widened slightly.
"What would you have me do?"
"Continue monitoring. The boy will begin internships soon. More likely to expose himself."
"And when he does... we'll see what secrets he's hiding."
Garaki nodded quickly. "Understood."
All For One turned his attention toward a bank of monitors displaying various news feeds, sports Festival replays, Hero Killer reports, citywide surveillance.
"Two individuals," All For One mused. "Or is there something more ..."
__
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