One-shot collection

Violence Begets Violence

Part 2

He thought it was over and done with. He was no detective or investigator; the entire incident was out of his hands and soon, reach.
  The walk to UA was quieter than usual. There was a sense of peace people couldn't help but feel. Going to school now didn't paint you as a target, and as each day passed, more villains met their untimely end.
  By now he couldn't open the news without another villain's face and name plastered all over it. Soon, it was like they were telling the weather.
  "You." Deku jumped at the voice. He wasn't aware of his ramblings or the women he had nearly bumped into.
  "Me?" He squeaked and looked back just in case.
  "Izuku Midoriya." She hummed and narrowed her eyes, identifying him by hair and eyes alone.
  "You..." Midoriya trailed off when he saw pink and indigo hair. His mind sharpened, recognizing the hero, or rather, pro-hero before him.
  "Lady Nagant." He murmured. She was taller than he expected, and far more intimidating than she seemed on TV.
  "Mm." She looked up then around, surveying the area. "I've got some questions for you. It won't take too long."
  "O-okay." Deku nodded. She turned ahead and walked, following the students ahead.
  "You were there last week. When Stain was killed." She stated in a whisper. "What happened?"
  "Uhm," He followed but nearly tripped over himself. "I'm... not sure what else I could tell you."
  "You'd be surprised." She added. Her demeanor gave off a sharp confidence. It made him believe in her.
  "W-well..." Izuku recalled the night well, telling her of the events leading up to Stain's abrupt end like it was written before him.
  "You're a smart kid." She said with a hum. "Could you feel it?"
  "Feel... what?" Deku asked. When the words left his mouth he realized what she meant.
  "Sort of like a sixth sense." She said. "Eyes on the back of your head. Like you were being watched."
  "Y-yeah." He gulped. "How did you...?"
  "The same happened to me once." She sighed. "I've been tracking this—person for some time now."
  "W-wait," Deku's eyes narrowed and his face scrunched with focus. "This is all linked? To over a hundred years ago?"
  "Huh." A spark of something was in her eyes. She was impressed. "Yes, as a matter of fact. It's no secret, but it's nothing confirmed either."
  "So... this person could be the same?"
  "That's the conclusion I've come." She stopped before a crossing. When others caught up to them, she waited until they were alone again.
  "Thanks for the help." Nagant said. She was as no-nonsense as she looked. She asked her questions and was off, leaving Midoriya with more than he already had.

How was one to track a ghost? Where would someone even start by pin pointing an urban legend? Nagant wasn't so sure even after almost ten years.
She ended her day where it started, home. The night was long and she had en even longer shift tomorrow.
She sighed as she shut her door behind her, locking it four times over. Was it wrong to feel so nervous? She wasn't a villain after all.
The memories returned and her stomach churned. She was nearly one. She nearly lent her entire life to a cause that wasn't hers for the sake of dreams.
She undid her hair, letting it flow past her shoulders. Work had been slow recently. No one, not even her, could deny the results this stranger was getting.
A cool gust of air hit her, earning a stuttering sigh her while chilling her shoulders down to her collarbone. Goosebumps riddled her skin, turning the atmosphere warm despite the chill running through her.
Her fingers sought the light switch on her wall and clicked it. When the bulb above hadn't winked on, suddenly she remembered something. She closed the window before leaving.
Nagant twirled a lock of hair around her finger and ripped it free. There wasn't a peep of sound to be heard, only the tiniest click as her rifle was loaded.
She stalked forward, her breathing still and her heart calm. A presence smooth down her back then shot up to tighten around her sternum. It was choking, nigh overwhelming.
Fighting back the well of emotions, she cleared the corner to her kitchen then swept back, clearing her living room and hall to her bedroom.
In the faint moonlight a wide wall of glass glistened, reflecting the light back and off the floor. All except for one that is.
The back door stood still sandwiched between the wall and a stone. Slowly, her eyes adjusted to the darkness, showing her the clean floors and well-kept kitchen.
Then, the next beat of her heart was a throb. The double pump shook her chest and her next breath was colder.
Her eyes adjusted, she scanned her living room once more. Not a thing was out of sight or mind. She looked over every crevice, every shadow.
In the far corner sat a potted plant both green and healthy. She stared at it for a moment, fixing her rifle at its stem with dead-center aim.
The leaves were still, stifled. The next gust of air blew her hair back, touching cold sweat running down her cheek. The plant had barely moved; something was shielding it from the wind.
Light itself refracted off of a figure, bending to an impossible degree to hide them in plain view. When her aim hadn't moved, it came crumbling down.
As if she pinched and peeled away a wrapper, so did the figure before her. Darkness appeared from thin air, spreading and spreading until she spotted letters and piercing red eyes.
In the beat of her throbbing heart the figure emerged, sporting a pair of metal, mechanical wings furled over its broad shoulders. Accompanying it were the slightest sounds of servos and a constant whispered hiss of air.
It was them again, the very same person to have claimed her dreams. And with it came an overwhelming sense of dread.
It stood well over two meters tall with the build of two, maybe three grown men. Even if most of it was armor, there was a giant of a human underneath it.
"Don't move." Nagant ordered. In response the figure was still, unnervingly so.
  They stared. Stared, unmoving. Their eyes, narrowed and curved into a glare, dimmed.
  They lifted an arm, narrowing her aim and focusing it over their head. In their hand was a folder no thicker than her finger.
  "What—?" Nagant stopped. There was no sudden movements or striking stances. They placed the folder over her kitchen countertop and began to fade from view.
  "Wait!" She called out, ready to fire. But fire for what? She was a hero at heart, and despite their size and demeanor, they posed no threat.
They moved without a sound or sign. They were gone again, taking the eery dread with them.
Slowly, and with resolve overpowering hesitance, Nagant skirted over to the file and flicked it open.
In the snap of a finger her entire world crumbled. She saw pictures, marked maps, names, and damning pieces of evidence.
She flicked through, seeing heroes, villains, and government officials. Some, she noted, were already dead.
She skimmed through, only stopping when she saw a familiar face, including her own.
Blackmail? She wondered, her fist shaking. No.
They weren't pieces curated by her mysterious friend. They knew where she lived, the papers here implied someone else didn't.
Details closeups showed her in public, attending events, buying groceries, or interacting with fans.
'Downtown?' Was scrawled across a piece of a map. 'Highly dangerous' accompanied it.
She was a target. To other heroes? For awaiting villains? Nagant grit her teeth and crushed the paper in her hand. The last thing she wanted to see was a file with her name in it.