Forgotten Invitation (UA Civil War game)

Nezu's Dilemma

The room was heavy with silence, the kind that crushed any attempt at levity. Nezu sat at the head of the long table, his paws steepled, his sharp black eyes darting across the faces of his staff. Each teacher wore an expression that oscillated between frustration and helplessness. Vlad King's fists were clenched tightly on the table, his knuckles white with suppressed rage. Recovery Girl tapped her cane impatiently, her eyes blazing with disapproval.

Nezu, however, was calm. Outwardly, at least. Internally, a storm raged.

Bakugo's battered, bloodied body lingered in his mind. The way Usagi had overpowered him, toyed with him, and left him broken without delivering a fatal blow. That wasn't the act of a desperate villain. It was the act of a predator reminding everyone that it could kill whenever it chose not to.

"Enough!" Vlad King's voice broke the silence, his anger spilling out like a flood. He slammed a fist on the table, rattling the glasses of water. "We can't just sit here and watch him tear these kids apart! He's not proving anything, Nezu! He's—he's a monster!"

Nezu closed his eyes for a brief moment, inhaling deeply before speaking. His tone was soft, but it carried the weight of authority. "Vlad, I understand your frustration. Truly, I do. But this exercise—"

"Exercise?" Vlad interrupted, leaning forward. "This isn't an exercise anymore! It's a slaughter, and you're just letting it happen!"

The other teachers murmured in agreement, their voices overlapping with uncertainty and anger. Recovery Girl finally spoke, her voice sharp and cutting. "Nezu, I've been lenient because I trusted your judgment, but this is going too far. Do you want a death on your hands?"

Nezu's eyes snapped open, and he let the tension in the room hang for a moment before responding. "Do you think I don't know what's at stake here?"

The room fell silent again, his words slicing through their collective outrage.

"Usagi has adhered to every rule we've set for him," Nezu continued, his voice steady but his tail flicking in agitation. "He has not killed anyone. He's inflicted pain, yes. He's terrified them, certainly. But death? No. And that's not because of our rules—it's because he doesn't need to."

He gestured toward the screens showing the abandoned city. "Look at what he's done. He's dismantled every plan, crushed every ounce of resolve, and done so while obeying the constraints we placed upon him. If that doesn't terrify you, then you're not paying attention."

Present Mic leaned back in his chair, his usual boisterous demeanor replaced with uncharacteristic unease. "So what are you saying, Nezu? That we just let him keep going? That we let him break every one of these kids until there's nothing left?"

"I'm saying," Nezu said carefully, "that we are dealing with a mind far more dangerous than any quirk could ever be. Usagi doesn't fight because he has to. He fights because he wants to. Because it's fun for him. And if we intervene—if we try to stop him—he will turn that focus onto us."

The weight of his words settled over the room like a dark cloud.

"And what if we all go in?" Eraserhead asked, his tone measured but grim. "If we coordinate, if we fight him as a team—what then?"

Nezu turned to him, his expression unchanging. "Do you think that would work?"

Eraserhead didn't respond immediately. His gaze shifted to the screens, where Usagi's figure could be seen moving through the city, a predator in his element.

"You've seen how he operates," Nezu continued. "He plans for everything. Every quirk, every strategy, every contingency. He reads us like an open book. If we go in together, he will use that against us. He will dismantle us one by one, and then he'll show the world just how powerless we are."

The words hung in the air, choking any retort before it could be spoken.

Vlad King, his voice shaking with barely contained anger, said, "So what? We just do nothing? We let him keep playing this sick game until there's no one left standing?"

Nezu's gaze hardened, his calm veneer cracking just slightly. "Yes, Vlad. We do nothing. Because the alternative is far worse."

The teachers exchanged uneasy glances, the truth of Nezu's words sinking in like a stone.

"We're not dealing with a typical villain," Nezu said, his tone softening but no less grave. "Usagi doesn't hide in the shadows because he's afraid. He does it because he enjoys the game. He enjoys the control. If we force his hand, we strip away the only thing keeping him tethered to these rules."

Recovery Girl shook her head, her cane tapping against the floor. "But these are children, Nezu. How far are you willing to let this go?"

Nezu hesitated, his eyes drifting back to the screens. "As far as it needs to go. Until we understand how to deal with someone like him. Because if we fail here, in a controlled environment, what hope do we have if he ever decides to turn his attention elsewhere?"

The room was silent, the weight of his words pressing down on them all.

Eventually, Eraserhead broke the silence. "So we let him finish. We let him hunt Shigaraki."

Nezu nodded slowly. "Yes. Shigaraki is strong, and if anyone has a chance of standing against Usagi, it's him. And if he fails..." He trailed off, his expression unreadable.

"What then?" Vlad King asked, his voice low.

"Then we learn," Nezu said simply. "We watch, we analyze, and we prepare for the next time. Because there will be a next time. And if we don't use this opportunity to understand him, we won't stand a chance when it comes."

The teachers exchanged uneasy glances but said nothing more.

Nezu leaned back in his chair, his eyes fixed on the screen. "Let the game continue. For now."