Forgotten Invitation (UA Civil War game)

Proving a Point

Well, I knew it would come to this eventually. Shigaraki. All Might's prodigy. The so-called "hope" of the next generation. And here he is, standing in front of me, fists clenched, a look of righteous fury etched into his face. It's almost poetic, really.

"Usagi!" he yells, his voice sharp and unwavering. "This ends now!"

Does it? Does it really?

I tilt my head, letting the faintest smirk play on my lips. "You're a little late to the party, Shigaraki. Everyone else has already had their turn. What makes you think you're special enough to stop me?"

He doesn't respond right away. Instead, he charges, fast and deliberate, and I can feel the weight of One For All behind him. His movements are precise, practiced. Not bad for a rookie.

But predictable.

I sidestep at the last second, his punch whistling past my ear. The force of it cracks the pavement where I was standing, a display of raw power that would intimidate most. Not me.

"Big swing, no payoff," I say, spinning around to face him. "You're just like All Might. All brawn, no brains."

That one hits a nerve. I see it in the way his eyes narrow, the way his jaw tightens. Good. Let him get angry. Anger makes people stupid.

Shigaraki doesn't waste time. He's on me again, throwing punches with calculated aggression. Each one could break bones if they landed, but they don't. I'm faster. I'm smarter.

I duck, weave, and twist, each movement just barely enough to avoid his attacks. It's a dance, one I've perfected over years of being underestimated.

"Why do you even bother?" I ask, my voice calm, almost bored. "You think you're a hero because All Might said you could be? You think One For All makes you special? It doesn't."

He growls, and for a moment, I see a flicker of doubt in his eyes.

"You don't understand what it means!" he snaps, his voice strained with effort. "It's about protecting people, about being more than just power!"

I laugh—a cold, sharp sound that echoes in the empty street. "Protecting people? Is that what All Might told you? Let me guess, he also said you were his successor because you have the heart of a hero?"

Shigaraki's silence is answer enough.

"Of course he did," I continue, sidestepping another one of his punches and landing a quick jab to his ribs. He grunts but doesn't falter. "That's the problem with All Might. He's too busy looking for ideals to see the reality. And the reality is, he picked wrong."

Shigaraki finally lands a hit—not on me, but on the ground. The force of it sends a shockwave rippling outward, throwing me off balance. Clever.

I recover quickly, but he's already on me, his hand reaching out to grab my arm.

Decay.

I twist away, just barely avoiding his touch. That quirk of his is nasty, no doubt about it. But he's not as fast as me.

"You're trying so hard," I say, dodging another swipe. "But for what? To prove you're worthy of All Might's attention? Hate to break it to you, but he doesn't care about you. You're just a tool, Shigaraki. A pawn in his little game of hero worship."

That one gets him. He roars, his movements becoming more erratic, less controlled. Perfect.

I duck under another punch and counter with a sharp kick to his knee. He stumbles but doesn't fall. His resolve is impressive, I'll give him that.

"Why do you hate him so much?" Shigaraki demands, his voice raw. "What did All Might ever do to you?"

The question stops me for a moment, just long enough for him to take another swing. I dodge, but the pause was enough to make me rethink my approach.

"You really want to know?" I ask, circling him like a predator sizing up its prey. "All Might told me I could never be a hero. Told me to give up on my dreams because I didn't have a quirk. And then he turned around and gave his power to you."

Shigaraki looks taken aback, but he recovers quickly. "That doesn't mean you get to hurt people!"

"Doesn't it?" I counter, my voice sharp. "You think heroes don't hurt people? Open your eyes, Shigaraki. All Might hurt me. Society hurt me. And now you stand there, pretending to be some kind of savior, when you're just as much of a hypocrite as the rest of them."

Shigaraki charges again, this time using a combination of his quirks. The ground beneath my feet crumbles, forcing me to leap into the air. He's learning, adapting. But so am I.

I land behind him and sweep his legs out from under him. He hits the ground hard, but he rolls away before I can follow up.

"You're good," I admit, brushing a bit of dust off my jacket. "But not good enough."

He gets to his feet, breathing heavily. Blood trickles from a cut above his eye, and his uniform is torn in several places. He looks like he's been through hell.

"You're wrong," he says, his voice steady despite the pain. "I'll prove you wrong."

"Then do it," I say, spreading my arms wide. "Come on, Shigaraki. Show me what you've got."

Shigaraki throws everything he has at me—punches, kicks, quirks—but it's not enough. I'm always one step ahead, always just out of reach.

Finally, I see my opening. As he lunges for me, I sidestep and grab his arm, twisting it behind his back. He cries out in pain, but I don't let go.

"Face it," I whisper in his ear. "You're not All Might. You'll never be All Might. And that's okay. Because All Might isn't the hero the world needs."

With a sharp shove, I send him sprawling to the ground. He doesn't get up.

I stand over him, breathing hard but victorious. The drones buzz around us, capturing every angle, every detail.

"You see this, Nezu?" I say, addressing the cameras. "This is your hero. Your precious prodigy. Broken, beaten, and powerless."

I kneel down next to Shigaraki, my voice dropping to a whisper. "Tell All Might I said hello."

With that, I walk away, leaving Shigaraki lying there, defeated.