_
YAMANOTE LINE OVERPASS,
Kurono stared at the empty tracks, his mind struggling to process what he'd just witnessed.
It was gone.
Eight train cars. Hundreds of passengers. All of it simply... erased.
"It's done," Kurogiri said quietly, his mist-form flickering slightly from the exertion. "800 kilometers offshore. Deep water. No land for miles in any direction."
"Perfect."
Behind him, Nemoto had gone very still, one hand clutching his mask. Mimic's puppet body trembled.
"What..." Kurono's voice came out hoarse. "What did you just do?"
Kurogiri watched, waiting for Tomura's reply. Shigaraki was scratching his neck again, but it was satisfied scratching now.
"Isn't it obvious? I solved our problem," he said simply, turning to face them. The grin beneath Father's hand was wider than ever.
"See? Gone. Like he never existed."
"That wasn't what we discussed." Nemoto uttered coldly.
"We wanted to capture him."
"Yeah? For what? To get him trialed in a court of law?" Shigaraki snickered. "I prefer my plan better "
"You just murdered hundreds of people," Kurono said, and he was disturbed to hear how hollow his own voice sounded. "What about the vigilante?"
"White Fang?"
Shigaraki's grin didn't fade. "What about him?"
"We—" Mimic struggled to find words. "We came here to find out if they were the same person. To get answers. To—"
"To what?" Shigaraki interrupted, his tone almost conversational. "You wanted revenge on whoever killed your boss. I wanted revenge on the brat who humiliated me. Now we've got it." He shrugged. "If the brat WAS White Fang? Problem solved—he'll never show up again. If he wasn't, then the other guy will show up eventually."
He walked past Kurono. The latter frowned.
"You do now the uproar this will cause right?"
Shigaraki didn't respond.
"And if he survives?"
Shigaraki paused for that. Took a moment of silence, then laughed hard.
"800 kilometers offshore. 1,000-foot drop. Freezing water. No land. No help." He looked back at Kurono. "If he survives that..." His grin widened impossibly further. "...then I'll actually be impressed. Maybe I'll even try harder next time."
"We should go," Kurogiri said quietly, already forming another portal. "Even with the remote location, it will be discovered soon enough."
"Yeah. Let's get out of here." Kurogiri opened a portal.
The Hassaikai remnants watched Shigaraki step in and disappear.
'Dangerous,' Nemoto thought. 'This one is far more dangerous than Kai ever was. Because Kai at least had rules. This one...'
This one had none.
Kurono, Nemoto, and Mimic exchanged glances. They had allied themselves with a monster. They knew that now. But it was too late to back out.
One by one, they followed him through.
The portal snapped shut.
Behind them, the afternoon sun continued to shine. Below, traffic flowed normally. A cyclist pedaled past. A couple walked hand-in-hand down the street.
Life continued, completely unaware.
On the empty tracks, a bird landed, pecked at something, then flew away.
__
[U.A. HIGH SCHOOL – PRINCIPAL'S OFFICE]
"Mr. Aizawa, a moment please."
Nezu's voice stopped him just before he could leave with the others.
Aizawa turned back, noting that Yagi, Mic, Midnight, and Snipe had already filtered out, leaving just him and the principal in the office.
"Yes?" Aizawa said, closing the door behind him.
Nezu hopped down from his chair and moved to his desk, pulling out a folder. "I wanted to discuss something with you. Something that's been on my mind regarding recent events."
Aizawa approached, his expression guarded. "If this is about Akutami's media exposure, I've already told him to—"
"It's not about the media." Nezu's tone was gentle but serious. "It's about the vigilante."
Aizawa blinked. "White Fang?"
"Precisely." Nezu opened the folder, spreading several documents across his desk. "I've been reviewing the reports, and something... curious has emerged. Tell me, Aizawa—what do you think of this vigilante?"
Aizawa frowned, crossing his arms as he considered. "I think... he's skilled. Very skilled. Combat-capable enough to engage the Hero Killer—twice—and survive both encounters. He has some kind of enhanced mobility, possibly a teleportation quirk given the 'smoke' descriptions in witness statements."
"And his motivations?"
"That's where it gets interesting." Aizawa's eyes narrowed. "Both confirmed appearances involve the Hero Killer. First in Hosu where he saved Ingenium from paralysis. Then again a week later, where he prevented Stain from killing Endeavor." He paused. "He's not your typical vigilante. He's not patrolling neighborhoods or stopping robberies. He's hunting Stain specifically."
"An astute observation." Nezu's paw traced one of the documents. "And why do you think that is?"
"Personal grudge, most likely. Stain's killed or crippled enough heroes that any number of people might want revenge. Family members, former colleagues, neighbors, childhood friends..." Aizawa trailed off, something clicking in his mind. "Why are you asking me this?"
Nezu didn't answer immediately. Instead, he slid another document across the desk.
"There's something I noticed. A connection that others might have missed." His dark eyes glinted. "You're familiar with young Akutami's incident before the Sports Festival, yes? The one involving Kai Chisaki?"
"I am. He was severely injured. Required hospitalization."
"Indeed." Nezu tapped the document. " The police reports stated that he described the hero to be a white haired vigilante with a half face mask."
Aizawa's eyes widened.
"That would make White Fang's appearances not two, but three. And all three are connected by a single thread."
Nezu slid another file across—this one thicker and looked more official.
Aizawa picked it up, his eyes scanning the first page.
CONFIDENTIAL HERO REGISTRY
Name: Aiko Akutami (née Tanaka)
Hero Name: Empath
Status: Retired (Permanent Disability)
Agency: Hinohara Sentinel Hero Agency
Cause of Retirement: Spinal injury inflicted by serial killer "Hero Killer: Stain"
Date of Incident: [Three months prior]
"Akutami's mother," Aizawa started.
"Was crippled by Stain," Nezu finished. "Paralyzed from the waist down. Her hero career ended in an alley in Hinohara. She's been in a wheelchair ever since."
The pieces fell into place with clarity.
"You think..."
"I think," Nezu interrupted gently, "that it's quite the coincidence. Young Akutami's mother is attacked by Stain. Three months later, a vigilante appears who specifically targets Stain. That same vigilante also appears to save her son from Overhaul." He paused. "And most tellingly..."
He slid one more document across.
This one was a medical report from Hosu City Hospital. Aizawa scanned it, his trained eye immediately catching the relevant section:
Patient: Akaguro Chizome (Hero Killer: Stain)
Injuries: Severe spinal trauma. Damage concentrated at L4-L5 vertebrae. Permanent paralysis from waist down confirmed.
'Spine damage.'
Aizawa looked up slowly.
"He paralyzed Stain in the exact same place Stain paralyzed her."
"Eye for an eye," Nezu said softly. "Poetic, in a terrible sort of way."
"But..." Aizawa's analytical mind pushed back against the emotional impact. "That doesn't mean Akutami IS the vigilante. The timing doesn't work. During both Hosu appearances, Akutami was accounted for. He was with me during the Nomu attack and at the sports festival during the first."
"That is correct. Logically, it is a paradox," Nezu admitted. "But we live in a world of Quirks. Perhaps they are related. Perhaps it is a shared Quirk. Or perhaps we are wrong entirely, but this remains a substantial coincidence. A connection that could lead to a lot of trouble when discovered."
"We need to investigate this carefully," Aizawa said. "Without tipping our hand. If Akutami is connected to this vigilante, whether it's family, friend, or something else, we need to know. For his protection and ours.
"Agreed. I'll begin pulling records, cross-referencing—"
Ring ring ring.
Aizawa's phone buzzed in his pocket, the sharp trill cutting through the conversation.
He pulled it out, glancing at the caller ID. Unknown number, but with an official prefix he recognized.
"Excuse me," he said to Nezu, then answered. "Hello?"
The voice on the other end was clipped, professional, urgent.
"Is this Eraserhead? This is Dispatch Unit Seven. We have a situation—"
"What kind of situation?"
"The Yamanote Line. The 1:05 departure from Mustafu Station your student was on ... It's..." The dispatcher's voice cracked slightly. "It's gone."
Aizawa's blood went cold.
"What do you mean, 'gone'?"
"I mean it disappeared. Mid-route. Somewhere between Mustafu and the city limits. All eight cars. Just... vanished."
"When did this happen?" Aizawa demanded, his voice sharp.
"We lost signal at 1:06 PM. Thirteen minutes ago."
Aizawa couldn't breathe. He'd sent him home. He'd told him to go home. To see his family.
The Yamanote Line was the direct route to Hinohara.
What the hell happened?
__
Meanwhile, ...
[PACIFIC OCEAN - 800KM OFFSHORE]
The ocean stretched endlessly in every direction. A vast, glittering expanse of deep blue that met the sky at a distant horizon.
The world was no longer a train carriage. It was a vast, terrifying roar of dark blue seas, the transition from the railways and city buildings enough to stun anyone.
It was beautiful in the way that only truly hostile places could be. Beautiful and utterly empty.
No land. No ships. No birds. Nothing but water and sky and the terrible silence between them.
Beneath the surface, the water darkened rapidly from crystalline blue to deep azure to midnight black. The ocean floor here was over 2,000 meters down, a crushing depth where sunlight had never reached and never would.
And somewhere in that darkness, still sinking, was a train full of people.
But on the surface—
SPLASH
Two legs landed squarely on the water surface as if on dry ground.
GASP!
Yuta Akutami stood squarely on the surface of the churning water, chakra attached to the soles of his feet. He was bent double, his hands on his knees, huffing and panting as seawater dripped from his hair.
His three-tomoe Sharingan spinning frantically as the weight of three grown human beings over his shoulders, equally as soaked as he was.
He had managed to drag them from the wreckage before the pressure of the sinking car could crush their lungs.
Splash. Splash. Splash.
Three more figures emerged from the waves, pulling themselves up onto the surface of the water as if it were solid ground. Each one looked exactly like him, and each carried two to three people on them.
Many more bodies floated on the water, pulled out before diving back for more.
"Is that... all of them?" Yuta rasped.
One of the clones looked at him. "On our cart? ... I don't know."
He looked downwards. "The rest? ..."
They all followed his gaze. No further words were needed. In sync, all clenched their fists, the original Yuta forcing out three words through gritted teeth.
"Damn You Shigaraki."
__
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