MHA Rewrite: Plus Ultra

Dark. The ground is cold beneath him. Aizawa tries to move. His vision swims. Blurry. Unstable. His arms don’t respond. Broken. He drags himself forward anyway. A sound— A yelp. Midoriya. Aizawa’s head jerks up. There— Izuku. Caught. Nomu’s hand wrapped around him. His legs dangle. Aizawa reaches out. Too far. He crawls. Slow. Useless. He feels it. The impacts. Izuku’s punches. One after another. They don’t do anything. Aizawa’s fingers scrape against the ground. Move. Move. Move— Izuku’s legs go rigid. Aizawa freezes. Something’s wrong. He looks up. And sees— Himself. Standing. Unharmed. Red eyes narrowed on him. The capture weapon wrapped tight around Izuku’s neck. Suspended. Hanging. Aizawa’s breath catches. No— Behind him— Shigaraki. Cackling. Watching. Waiting. A hand rises. Reaches. A grin. “Thank you, Eraser Head-sensei...~” Touches. Izuku’s body begins to crumble. Aizawa tries to scream— He wakes. “Midoriya!” He jolts upright, breath ragged. Pain crashes through him. The room is dark. A hospital room. His arms are bound tight at his sides, thick bandages locking them in place from shoulder to wrist. His face is partially wrapped, gauze crossing his jaw and cheek, one eye barely able to open. More bandages run beneath his clothes, pulling at his torso with every breath. He stays there, rigid. Breathing. Aizawa exhales. … In the conference room at U.A. Detective Tsukauchi stands at the center, dressed in a crisp suit, without his usual fedora, sheets in hand as he reads. “—The one calling himself ‘Shigaraki Tomura.’ His Quirk allows him to disintegrate anything he touches. We’ve cross-checked the Quirk registry for men in their twenties and thirties. No matches.” He turns a page. “The ‘warp gate’ user, Kurogiri, is the same. No records. No identity. Both are operating under aliases, with unregistered Quirks. That places them firmly in the underworld.” The room stays quiet. Heroes listen, focused. Snipe sets his copy of the report down with a muted thud, letting out a slow breath beneath his mask. “So you’re sayin’ we know next to nothin’…” A slight tilt of his head. “Then we’d best learn fast. That leader of theirs, Shigaraki… once he’s back on his feet, he ain’t gonna wait for us to catch up.” Toshinori hums. Nezu, seated beside him, glances over. “What is it, All Might-san?” Toshinori spreads his hands. “It’s just… none of it felt normal. The attack itself was brazen enough, but it wasn’t just the planning.” He frowns slightly. “He kept going on and on about some absurd ideology. And while he never explained his Quirk, he wouldn’t stop talking… boasting about that Nomu being my ‘counterpoint.’” A small pause. “And when things didn’t go his way?” His expression tightens. “He threw a tantrum.” Nezu smiles politely. “He was rather overconfident… quite the character, wouldn’t you say?” He tilts his head slightly. “It’s quite foolish to reveal one’s Quirk and waste the element of surprise, especially when facing heroes.” Toshinori gestures slightly. “Spouting a plausible yet idiotic ideology, like it excuses whatever he’s been through. Treating that creature like a toy he brought along. And then… laughing when things fell apart.” He scoffs. “He’s not a villain. He’s a man-child given free rein.” Tsukauchi nods.  “According to Eraser Head, the creature they deployed—‘Nomu’—was described by Shigaraki as bioengineered. A mindless weapon created for a single purpose.” His gaze hardens. “To kill All Might.” “A ‘man-child’ with a lot of power and resources!” a hero with short white hair pipes up. “Maybe he never received general Quirk counseling in elementary school…” says the woman with the teasing confidence. “I don’t see how that matters, Midnight!” the hero snaps. She sighs, exasperated. “It means Shigaraki might have lived outside the system from a young age, Vlad King. Use your head for once.” Tsukauchi interjects. “We apprehended a total of 72 villains at USJ. All of them were back-alley thugs.” His eyes fall into shadow. “The question is… why would so many of them agree to follow this ‘man-child’? Especially against All Might?” Toshinori’s thoughts drift back. …And villains… they’re no better. The exact same thing… A flicker. But at least they don’t pretend. That makes them… somewhat tolerable… Toshinori exhales. “His ideology doesn’t really resonate with most villains… if anything, it clashes with them.” A brief pause. “Their end goal, though, killing the Symbol of Peace… that much aligns.” His gaze lowers slightly. “But that still doesn’t explain why they’d place their faith in him.” The detective hums, lowering the papers slightly. “Either he has access to resources far beyond what we’re seeing… or someone else is enabling him.” A brief pause. “But until we know who or how, we treat him as the primary threat.” “Regardless, thanks to you heroes, we can move forward with the investigation.” He offers a small smile. “We’ll broaden our search and focus our efforts on apprehending those responsible.” Nezu hums softly. “A man-child, hmm… In a sense, he’s not so different from our students.” A small smile. “Still growing… still being shaped.” Toshinori glances at him. He continues. “Though in his case… one has to wonder by whom.” Toshinori does not avert his gaze. “…It’s difficult to think about these things.” … The next day, classes were cancelled. …Everyone needed a break. But the day after— Iida stands at the entrance to Class 1-A. “Good morning. I hope you’re well. Please, take a seat.” He repeats it to each student who enters. But there’s one person he’s hoping to greet. Iida purses his lips as the last of the students take their seats. One is still missing. Just as he’s about to leave his post and sit— he freezes. A figure stands at the doorway. He adjusts his glasses. “Aizawa-sensei?!” The room lights up.  “Sensei’s here?!” Mina exclaims. “No way!” Kirishima pushes himself up from his desk.  Kaminari: “Back already?!” Iida gestures at the class.  “S-settle down! Everyone be quiet, stand, and greet your teacher!”  The class rises and bows. “Good morning, Aizawa-sensei!!” “Tsk… You’re all so loud this morning…” Aizawa says, his voice muffled. Iida bows, tense, as Aizawa enters the classroom. The students begin to straighten— then freeze. “…Sensei…” Momo breathes. He’s wrapped in bandages from head to toe. His face is almost entirely hidden beneath the layers, one eye barely visible through his hair. His arms are bound together in thick wrappings, held stiffly in front of him. He stands there anyway. Tears well in Mina’s eyes. Kirishima wipes his away with his arm. “Sensei…! You’re so manly…!” Aizawa sighs. “My condition isn’t important.” His visible eye moves across the room, taking in each student. A slight nod. “…Good. Everyone made it back.” His gaze shifts— and stops on the empty seat beside Uraraka. It lingers. “…Take your seats.” “Sensei! You’re the best teacher ever!” Kirishima exclaims. “Seriously… you look like you should still be in the hospital…” Kaminari blurts. “Sensei, are you really okay to be teaching…?” Uraraka asks. Aizawa exhales. “These things happen. The world doesn’t stop just because you get hurt.” His gaze steadies. “So yes. I’m here.” Another beat. “And I have an important announcement to make.” The room stills. “So soon…?” “Don’t tell me…” “More villains?!” Aizawa’s eye narrows. “U.A.’s Sports Festival is fast approaching.” A beat. “THAT’S SO TOTALLY ORDINARY!”