The shopping mall teemed with people this weekend.
Amid the bustling crowd, the first-year Class A students had gathered.
Once everyone had assembled at the meeting spot, Ashido thrust her fist toward the sky and shouted excitedly,
"We came for that vibe! The cutting‐edge, ultra-now, ultra-young mall boasting the most stores in the prefecture—Kiyashi Ward Shopping Mall!"
Midoriya, who rarely visited places like this, scanned the surroundings and muttered to himself,
"They don’t just cater to the myriad body types shaped by differing Quirks—they also offer designs that appeal to everyone, from teenagers to the elderly..."
"You're scaring the kids, so knock it off."
Tokoyami stepped in, curbing Midoriya’s increasingly unsettling demeanor.
At that moment, someone who recognized them pointed and yelled,
"Hey, isn’t that U.A.?"
"First-years?"
"Sports day! Way to go!"
Watching the crowd cheer with electrifying energy, Uraraka looked both delighted and overwhelmed.
"Wow... there are still people who remember us!"
Meanwhile, Jiro, completely unfazed, informed Yaoyorozu, "First, I need to buy a big suitcase."
"Then, shall we go look together?"
Kaminari turned to Hagakure and added, "I don’t have any outdoor shoes, so I want to pick up a new pair."
"Ah! Me too! Me too!"
"The brochure mentioned that shoes should feel like a natural extension of your feet—no, scratch that, you really have to choose them for their intended purpose."
Iida, who suddenly piped up as if about to lecture them, paused with his chin on his hand, pondering his own words.
By now, though accustomed to such banter, both Uraraka and Midoriya exchanged resigned looks.
"All right, it seems everyone’s got their own agenda—how about we split up and agree to reconvene here at 3 o’clock?"
"Sounds good!"
"Then, meet back here at 3!"
"No objections!"
Sho smoothly proposed the plan, and without hesitation, everyone dispersed in small groups aligned with their goals.
Midoriya muttered blankly, "Everyone’s so quick to act..."
"Yeah..."
Fortunately, Uraraka remained by his side.
Striving to sound as natural as possible, Midoriya asked quietly, "U–Uraraka, what are you planning to do? I was thinking of getting a heavier resistance band."
"I’m going to grab some insect repellent spray..."
As Uraraka answered while stealing glances at Midoriya, she suddenly remembered Aoyama’s words from the exam. Having been tongue-tied when asked about her feelings for him, she blushed furiously and blurted out in panic,
"I have to chase away bugs!"
"M–me? Bugs?!"
Scurrying away in a flurry, Uraraka muttered under her breath, "Damn Aoyama—it's not like that at all! Probably..."
Left alone, Midoriya watched her retreat and sighed, "We came all this way together, and now I’m the only one left..."
At that moment, a gruff voice reached him, pulling him from his loneliness. The somewhat rough tone was unmistakably directed at him.
"Oh, a U.A. student. Nice. Sign something for me," the voice commanded.
Approaching from the side was a hooded figure with sky-blue hair. With his hood drawn low to obscure his features, he casually draped an arm around Midoriya’s shoulders.
Continuing with breezy familiarity, he said,
"You were definitely the one who got beaten to a pulp at sports day, weren’t you?"
"Ah, yes..."
Midoriya thought, How impressive—U.A. indeed. So many people remember you.
If it were Kirishima, he would never have let someone come so close. Kirishima always maintained a strict perimeter, either slipping away or forcefully shoving an intruder aside. Even at his most relaxed, his ever-vigilant nature would have prevented any carefree contact.
But Midoriya was only a pure fifteen-year-old—someone whose life had never known the horrors of war or the shadows of the underworld. Though flustered, he felt no immediate danger as he spoke with the hooded stranger.
"And you were there when the Hero Killer struck during the Hosu incident, weren’t you? That’s incredible!"
"You sure know a lot..."
"No, honestly—I never imagined I’d run into you again in a place like this."
Midoriya flinched at the man’s words, and even as he slowly met his gaze, the stranger’s voice pressed on,
"At this point, it seems there’s something bigger at work... fate, a bond, or whatever you want to call it..."
Then, almost imperceptibly, the man shifted the hand that had been resting on Midoriya’s shoulder and clamped it around his neck, leaving only his middle finger free.
Feeling his body stiffen, Midoriya heard him intone in a voice thick with malice,
"Well, this must be the first time we’ve crossed paths since the U.A. attack."
Midoriya’s frozen gaze finally settled on the man—a face he would never forget, the very image of the man responsible for the incident where he had risked his life for the first time.
The stranger curled his lips and said, his voice harsh as metal on stone,
"How about a cup of tea, Midoriya Izuku?"
"Shigaraki... Tomura!"
Seeing Midoriya finally recognize him, the man’s expression softened into genuine pleasure. In truth, when he had first arrived today, his mood had been foul. The sight of carefree, laughing people wandering about had filled him with disgust—he longed to tear them all to shreds. To him, they were like mindless cattle, oblivious to society’s harsh truths.
"Look at them, Hero Killer. For most people, tragedy is nothing more than distant fireworks. They don’t give it a second thought—no matter who is killed or why, these idiots just keep grinning foolishly." He mused bitterly. "Aren't these thoughtless crowds still human, though? I can’t fathom why they live so carelessly when they have the capacity to think."
As he trudged along, burdened by the weight of his despair, he heard a group of children shouting excitedly about something they had spotted.
"It’s the Hero Killer! Is this even allowed?"
"Surely this is going to lead to chaos!"
"That’s so reckless!"
"Cool!"
Glancing at the kid brandishing a band adorned with Stain’s eyes and another snapping a photo, he continued on.
And yet, in a strange twist, there were those whose sentiments—seemingly from a world a million years apart from his own—aligned with his. What was it all about? In the end, both he and those like him were merely tearing apart what they despised. But what exactly drove them?
Lost in circular thoughts, he wandered aimlessly with no clear destination—until, suddenly, the green-haired kid he had seen in person before (and on TV more than once) came into view.
Perhaps to stem the endless spiral of his thoughts, he naturally approached the boy. And now, it had come to this.
"Act like we’re old friends—don’t make a scene, got it? Stay calm and steady your breathing. I just want to talk. But if you even make the slightest suspicious move, the moment all five of my fingers touch your neck..."
He said that, casually moving his hand while keeping only his middle finger free. It was a remarkably effective threat.
"Your neck's skin will start crumbling, and in less than a minute, you'll be nothing but dust!"
Midoriya, his voice trembling with both panic and underlying hostility, retorted,
"I–if you do something like that in a crowd this dense, a hero will come right away and take you down!"
Shigaraki made no denial. He didn’t spout grandiose proclamations about heroes being useless or claim he’d slaughter everyone—instead, he painted a stark, realistic future.
"Probably. But look at these idiots—why are they all here grinning like morons, as if a Quirk couldn’t go off at any second? Laws and rules assume everyone has a sense of morality. They foolishly believe, 'There’s no way they'd do it!' Yet, if I were caught, I could break twenty—no, thirty of them."
It was terrifying to hear him boast such feats. Midoriya’s clenched fist trembled violently. In that moment, this man seemed even more menacing than the absurd powerhouse he had unleashed at USJ.
In the end, Midoriya slowly unclenched his fist and demanded,
"What exactly is it you wanted to say?"
Shigaraki laughed softly and replied,
"Ah, you're so sweet. Since we've met like this, why don’t we sit somewhere comfortable and have a long, pleasant chat?"
Eventually, Shigaraki hauled Midoriya over to one of the seating areas set up in the center of the mall and settled down as if confiding in an old friend.
"To be honest, I dislike everything. But what really pisses me off right now is the Hero Killer."
"Weren’t you two allies?"
"I never acknowledged him—but that’s how the public sees it."
Still gripping Midoriya’s neck, Shigaraki spoke in a shadowed tone,
"That's the problem. Everyone's fixated on the Hero Killer—the U.A. attack, the Nomu we unleashed during the Hosu incident—all of it goes to him. No one even looks at me. Why is that? No matter how many pretty words you spout, that bastard was also smashing everything he hated! What makes me any different, Midoriya?"
Frowning, Midoriya shot back,
"How are you... different? I... can’t understand you, and I can’t accept you. I couldn’t accept the Hero Killer either, but I could understand him—after all, both he and I started with All Might!"
The memory of Stain—a moment seared into his otherwise unforgettable fifteen years—flashed through his mind. Stain's relentless, blood-soaked crusade for a so-called righteous society had marked him like a scar.
"I… got help from him back then. At the very least, he wasn’t out to destroy things just for the sake of it. He didn’t haphazardly throw everything away like you do. His methods may have been flawed, but he strove to live by an ideal!"
Forcing the words from deep within, Midoriya’s eyes met Shigaraki’s, and he froze, as if struck by lightning.
"Ahh. Somehow, I feel a strange clarity. The dots have connected—I finally understand why I despised the Hero Killer, why you irritate me. It was all All Might!"
Shigaraki beamed as if liberated, his red eyes blazing, his wide grin exposing white teeth, and his unbound sky-blue hair flowing. The intensity of his inhuman emotion nearly left Midoriya breathless—as if chaos itself had taken human form.
"I see... so that's it, isn't it? This is where it all leads! Ha, what was I even stressing about? These idiots keep grinning because All Might grins like an idiot too—because that trash bastard acts as if there’s no one he failed to save! That's why they all wear such stupid smiles! Ahh, I'm glad we talked. Good, Midoriya—I never had to compromise on anything!"
In his excitement, Shigaraki tightened his grip on Midoriya’s neck. As Midoriya, choking, instinctively raised a hand, Shigaraki's tone turned icy,
"Don't you dare touch me. You want to die? Are you so callous as to let innocent people perish?"
In his mind, Midoriya seethed, "What a twisted irony, Hero Killer—your ideals, your beliefs, the very things that sustained me at my lowest, will now serve as my stepping stone!"
Pleased with the revelation, Shigaraki muttered to himself just as Midoriya, unable to bear it any longer, raised his hand again.
"Deku?"
Gritting his teeth, Midoriya glanced at Uraraka, whose cautious tone betrayed her concern. He couldn’t let her get dragged into this.
In that instant, he steeled himself—if he had to die, unleashing One For All at its utmost power would leave no chance to hurt anyone else. And if luck favored him, it might even kill Shigaraki.
The energy that had become intrinsically his, despite having accompanied him for less than a year, unfurled within him like wings, roaring to life. It surged through his entire body.
Without question, the person who had influenced his life most was All Might. But if you asked who ranked second, Midoriya would answer without hesitation: Kirishima Eijiro. Whenever he saw his shockingly powerful friend of the same age, one thought resounded in his mind: if he ever had to risk his life, he must never hesitate.
Noticing the dangerous tension, Uraraka asked worryingly, "Hey, isn’t he... not really your friend? Could you let go of him?"
Shigaraki’s eyes glittered as he turned to her. At that precise moment—when One For All bristled with potential—he raised both hands and said with feigned ease,
"Oh, you had someone with you! Sorry, sorry—if you follow me, you know what happens, right?"
Leaving only a low warning for Midoriya, Shigaraki melted into the crowd and kept walking.
Uraraka rushed to Midoriya, who had been released from Shigaraki’s grip and was coughing, and shouted,
"Deku!"
"Wait! Shigaraki Tomura!"
"Huh? Shigaraki... what?"
"What exactly is All For One's objective, anyway?"
Midoriya’s question barely registered with Shigaraki, who only replied indifferently,
"No idea. More importantly, just be careful. Next time we meet, it’ll be when I’ve decided to kill you..."
Then, disappearing into the throng, Shigaraki left.
The memory of Stain questioning the point of killing without conviction resurfaced in his mind—but now, it no longer irked him. He murmured to himself,
"Conviction and ideals—they were there from the start, Hero Killer. Nothing ever changed! Every action from now on will lead straight to that. I’m going to create a world without All Might and expose just how soft and rotten so-called justice truly is! And from today on, I’ll call that... conviction. It’s all All Might!"
With a deeply satisfied heart, Shigaraki strode forward, every hesitation gone. In that moment, the tiny, budding flower of malice grew yet another inch toward full bloom.
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