Fractured Wings

She hadn't expected him to save her. 

Yui Kodai pressed herself against the cold damp wall, her breath hitching as she tried to steady her nerves. The storm outside roared, masking the faint sound of her heartbeat, yet the pulse was deafening in her ears. 

Just moment's ago she had been seconds away from death. A spear of water sharp, and with enough force to tear through stone, had surged towards her with terrifying precision. She had frozen, every muscle locked in fear, knowing there was no escape. 

Then, Soryu... Kobe. He grabbed her and leapt above the attack. 

Just days ago he had appeared alongside her classmate, a quiet and enigmatic presence. He had, with quick and almost dismissive motion dragged her out of harms way. Now crouched beside him, hidden from their predator, Yui couldn't reconcile the image of her saviour with the man who had made their class' big sister figure show such a dreadful face, show tears. 

Kobe, was the one who killed Overhaul. 

Overhaul was a bad person though. No saving him. And Yui thought that even though people shouldn't kill, with someone like Overhaul it was always going to be either him or them. 

And here he was, his killer, shielding her without hesitation, his gaze scanning their surroundings. rain dripped from his hood, tracing down his smooth face. When his eyes met her's there was no malice, no predatory gaze. 

Instead, he tilted his head slightly and mouthed a silent question. 

"Are you okay?" 

Yui nodded stiffly, though her throat felt too tight to speak. She didn't know how to judge him. Just days ago he had been a stranger in their group, quietly contributing while keeping his distance. Then, he'd helped negotiate the rule allowing players to transfer points, which had probably saved many. 

She hadn't thanked him then, and she didn't know how to. 

Above the steady hiss of rain, a low chuckle escaped. A sound that sent a chill down her spine. Abyss was marching forward. 

Kobe shifted beside her, his movements fluid. His voice was low and calm even in this situation. 

"Are you going to run?" 

Yui blinked, startled by the bluntness of the question. 

"Cause if you're not," he continued, his gaze unwavering. "You'd better be ready to fight." 

Fight? Against that? 

She knows Abyss, she knows that he even fought with Endeavour. She knows how powerful his quirk is and how in this rainy environment he is probably at his strongest. Rationally, she knew her best chance was to flee, to escape while he kept Abyss occupied. 

But what kind of hero student would she be? 

She looked into Kobe's eyes again, there was no fear, only resolve. 

"I'll fight." she said, her voice firmer than expected. 

Kobe gave a light smirk, a faint expression that was gone the minute it appeared. 

"Alright," he said rolling his shoulders. "Just don't die." 

***

Water surged through the gap, tearing the fragile structure as if it were paper. Then the man stepped through the wall. His grin wide, showcasing his sharp teeth bared at us. Water dripped from every inch of him, snaking around him like living beings. 

"Looks like you picked up a stray paper-boy." his voice carried over like a storms roar. 

"Sorry to disappoint," I said, "but I'm not in the market for an overgrown goldfish." 

He laughed deeply, it was unhinged and it made the hairs on my back stand on end. 

"I like clever pray, it makes the hunt much more fun." 

I didn't dignify that with another response. Instead I let my fingers twitch. 

Behind me, Kodai was breathing hard, her stance uncertain. I couldn't blame her; Abyss wasn't just dangerous. He was the rain. Fighting him in this weather was like fighting the ocean with a kitchen knife. 

But we didn't have much choice. 

"Stay close," I muttered to her, not taking my eyes off Abyss. 

She didn't reply, but I heard her shift, her foot scuffling against the wet floor as she moved into position. 

Abyss lunged. 

Water surged forward, twisting into jagged spikes aimed at me. I dodged left, sliding on the slick ground, and flung a handful of paper shuriken. They sliced through the rain with a feint whistle, aimed for his legs. 

He laughed again, a shield of water forming around him to block the attack. 

"Do better!" 

"Wasn't aiming for you," I said. 

The shuriken embedded themselves into the ground at his feet, and with a flick of my wrist, they expanded into a lattice of sharp, interlocking blades. Abyss staggered, his footing momentarily thrown off balance. 

"Now," I said to Kodai. 

She reacted instantly, her quirk activating with a sharp burst of energy. A chunk of debris at her feet enlarged, becoming a massive boulder that was hurled into Abyss's side. The impact didn't do much damage, but it forced him to step back. 

"Cute," Abyss snarled, his voice losing some of it's humour. 

The rain around him spiraled, forming a massive hand of water that reached for Kodai. She yelped but managed to slip through. 

I didn't wait for him to focus on me. I reinforced paper and flashed it into a flat sheet and swung it like a whip. The edge caught Abyss across the cheek, drawing a thin line of blood. 

His grin vanished before getting wider. 

"That's a surprise." 

The water around us erupted, a vortex of sheer force that sent me skidding backward. Kodai shouted something, but the roar of the storm drowned her out. 

I barely had time to think. The vortex was pulling everything towards it's center, the air thick with mist and debris. I couldn't fight this head on, not like this. 

My eyes darted to a storm drain partially hidden beneath a pile of rubble. 

"Kodai!" I shouted, my voice straining against the noise. 

She followed my gaze, understanding my plan immediately. Her quirk flared again, and the debris shifted, creating just enough space for an opening. 

To keep him busy, I threw everything I had into a final attack. I launched a barrage of paper constructs, shields, shuriken, spears, all aimed for his head and torso. He countered effortlessly, the water rising to meet each strike like a living wall. 

But his focus was on me, not Kodai. 

"Run!" I barked, shoving her towards the drain. 

She hesitated for a fraction of a second before diving through. I followed a heartbeat later, sliding down the slick concrete as the vortex closed behind us. 

***

The storm faded into muffled echoes as we tumbled into the dark tunnel. My body ached from the impact, my lungs burned from the frantic sprint, and the adrenaline still thrummed in my veins like a relentless drumbeat. 

I sat p slowly, the dampness of the tunnel floor seeping through my clothes. The air was heavy and smelled faintly of mildew. 

Kodai lay sprawled a few feet away, her chest rising and falling in sharp, shallow breaths. Her usually neat hair clung to her face in soaked strands, and mud streaked her clothing. She looked as drained as I felt, her body trembling from exertion. 

That..." she panted, her voice weak but carrying a faint edge of disbelief. "was insane." 

I let out a dry, humourless chuckle, leaning back against the tunnel wall. The cold, damp surface was almost comforting in it's solidity. 

Kodai rolled onto her side, propping herself up on an elbow. Her dark eyes flicked towards me, and for a moment there was silence between us. The dim light of the tunnel cast a shadow across her face, making her expression hard to read. 

Then she spoke, her voice softer this time. "You didn't have to save me back there," This again, I wondered if all hero student's were like this. 

I raised an eyebrow. "Was I supposed to let you get skewered like a kebab?" 

Her lips pressed into a thin line, but there was no annoyance in her expression, just something closer to gratitude. She sat up fully, brushing a strand of wet hair out of her face. "I mean it. You could've run. Abyss was after you. Saving me only made things harder for you." 

I shrugged, trying to play it off. "Doesn't matter. We're both safe now aren't we?" 

For a moment she didn't reply. Her gaze continued to linger on me, thoughtful, before she spoke again. 

"Thank you," she said, her voice steady now, carrying a sincerity that caught me off guard. 

I blinked, unsure how to respond. Gratitude wasn't something I was used to. I opened my mouth to deflect—maybe crack a joke or brush it off—but the words got caught in my throat when I saw her expression. 

She smiled. 

It wasn't one of those polite, fleeting smiles that people give in short moments, nor the wary one's I had seen her give when I first joined her and her group with Kendo. This was different. It was small and genuine, softening her stoic features. 

And in that moment, she looked entirely different. 

The shadows of the tunnel seemed less oppressive, the harshness of the rain-washed world above temporarily forgotten. Her smile was disarming, cutting through the tension that had been coiling in my chest since the fight began, no since I had left their group those few days ago. 

For the first time, I noticed the feint curve of her lips, the way her damp hair framed her face, and the glimmer of something unspoken in her eyes. There was a quiet strength in her, hidden beneath the exhaustion and the mud. 

"Don't let it get to your head," she added, her smile widening slightly, breaking the moment's tension with a touch of humour. 

I huffed a short laugh, shaking my head. "Too late." 

She leaned back against the wall opposite me, closing her eyes briefly as she caught her breath. The faint smile lingered on her lips, and I couldn't help but notice how much lighter she seemed now, even in the dim, suffocating gloom of the tunnel. 

For that moment, the storm outside didn't seem quite so close. 

____

The tunnel stretched before us like a black artery, twisting and curving into darkness. The faint, intermittent dripping of water echoed through the confined space, creating a rhythm that filled the silence between out footsteps. The air was damp and heavy, clinging to my skin and making my breath feel thick. The dim light overhead from an emergency strip, faint and flickering, illuminated just enough to guide our path without giving us a clear view of what lays ahead. 

Kodai walked a step behind me, her presence quiet but not unnoticed. She seemed to be deliberately slowing her pace, her footsteps hesitant. It didn't surprise me, this wasn't exactly a comforting space. 

"You ever wonder why places like this exist?" I asked, breaking the silence. My voice carried strangely in the tunnel, amplified in some parts and swallowed in others. 

"I was just thinking that," she replied. "I didn't think Hosu's underground was this elaborate." 

Most cities had intricate underground systems, from a time where villain attacks were much more brutal and devastating, evacuation shelters sometimes were not enough. But there could be something here that hasn't been discovered before. 

"Maybe it's a villain lair." I threw out while rolling my shoulders. "Secret tunnels to smuggle loot or make a quick getaway. Could explain why it's not on any of the city plans, or the map." 

"Right," she said, her voice tinged with sarcasm. "Because villains are known for impeccable infrastructure." 

A soft chuckle escaped me, and we kept walking, our conversation dissipating into the ambient sounds of the tunnel. The walls were slick with condensation, reflecting glimmers of the light like veins of silver running through stone. The air felt colder the deeper we went, carrying the scent of wet earth and rusted metal. 

Kodai spoke again, her tone hesitant, like she was feeling her way through the words. "I've been thinking about... the kind of hero I want to be." 

It seems like another thing this game would forcefully bring out in hero students. I glanced back at her briefly, keeping my footing on the uneven ground. "Yeah? Any conclusions?" 

She shrugged, her expression thoughtful. "I used to think it was simple. You know, save people, inspire hope. That's what heroes are supposed to do. But..." She trailed off, her voice faltering. 

"But what?" I pressed, genuinely curious. 

She hesitated before answering, "This game... this whole situation. It's shown me how hard it is to hold onto that idea when everything feels so stacked against you. I've been scared, more than I've ever been in my life. I keep thinking, what if I mess up? What if I make a decision that gets someone hurt? Or worse?" 

Her voice trembled slightly, and I noticed her hands clenching at her sides. She was spiraling, her fear bubbling to the surface despite her effort to suppress it. 

"Hey," I said, stopping and turning to face her. "You're still here, aren't you? You're still moving forward. That count's for something." 

She didn't meet my eyes, her gaze was fixed to the ground. "Barely. I feel like I'm holding on by a thread." 

"Then let me tell you a story." I said, leaning casually against the damp wall. 

She looked up, her brows furrowing in confusion. "A story?" 

"Yeah," I waved. "There was this guy, right? Big-shot hero wannabe. He thought he could take on an entire gang of villains solo. Walked right into their hideout like he owned the place." 

Her frown deepened. "What happened?" 

I smirked. "Turns out, it wasn't a villain den. It was a pet shop. And the 'villains' were a bunch of angry parrots and a very territorial parakeet." 

For a moment, there was silence. Then a snort. Kodai covered her mouth, but it was too late—laughter spilled out, shaking her shoulders. It was genuine laughter, the kind that seemed to momentarily lift the weight of everything around us. 

"You're making that up," she said in between giggles. 

"Maybe," I said, crossing my arms. "But it worked, didn't it?" 

She shook her head, still smiling. "You're impossible." 

"Guilt as charged." I said pushing off the wall and continuing down the tunnel. 

As the echoes of her laughter faded, her expression turned more serious. "Can I ask you something?" 

"Shoot." 

"Why are you... a villain?" 

I stopped mid-step, her question hanging in the air like a tangible weight. Turning to face her, I tilted my head slightly. "Do you see me as one?" 

Her eyes widened, and she shook her head quickly. "That's not what I meant. I mean you don't act like one. Not really." 

"I'm just on a path searching for something," I said, my tone quiet but steady. "If I do that as a hero, or even a cop, it would take too long. Too many rules, too much red tape. And honestly? I never cared much for the theatrics of hero work." 

Kodai nodded slowly, her gaze thoughtful. "I get that. I don't think I'd function well if I were as famous as someone like All Might. The idea of being in the spotlight all the time..." she shuddered. "it isn't for me." 

Her voice grew quieter. "Sometimes it feels like heroes are more interested in the fame than heroism." 

"That's not just a feeling," I said, my tone darkening. "It's reality. The system's built to reward popularity and violence more so the effectiveness. And it creates ambition that doesn't always lead to a good place." 

She glanced at me curiously. "What would you do if you could change hero society today?" 

That was a good question. But I looked at her with surprise and was starting to get my dramatic flair on— 

"I'm being serious." She said, her tone earnest. 

I sighed, running a hand through my dreads. "Okay, hypothetically? I think I'd start by scrapping the ranking system. It creates a numerical value for people's worth, which is just asking for trouble. Do you remember the hero Surge?" 

She nodded, her expression grim. 

"Yeah, well, he got all the way to the number 12 by staging fake scenes so he could swoop in and 'save the day.' Worked for a while, until he screwed up and got a civilian paralyzed. All because he wanted to climb the rankings." 

Kodai didn't say anything, but the look on her face said enough. 

"Heroes shouldn't be measured by how flashy they are," I continued. "There's just too much focus on the billboards." 

There was a long pause after that. The weight of the conversation settled over us like the damp air of the tunnel. 

"I understand what you're saying," Kodai said finally, her voice soft. 

We kept walking, the silence between us not uncomfortable but contemplative. Then, something caught my eye. A faint glow ahead. 

My steps quickened, and as we rounded the corner, I saw it. The Founder's Torch. A simple wooden staff, rough-hewn and weathered, it's surface etched with intricate carvings that spiraled upward in an unbroken pattern. 

No flame adorned the top, no golden light to mark it as extraordinary. But I knew the stories—this torch was said to be unbreakable, impervious to any force or pressure. It's very existence defies logic, yet here it was, tucked away in the depths of a forgotten tunnel. 

Kodai's eyes widened. "Is that...?" 

"Yeah," I said, my voice tinged with disbelief. "One of the keys to getting out of this game,"