What Makes A Hero

A New Beginning

Deku watched as Woolf turned himself away from the scene that his eyes would never see, as if to physically shield himself from the reality of it. He quickly turned his face away from it to focus on his true concerns. Hate filled eyes met his with a calm smile that Deku returned with a cocky smile as the hand slowly descended- the build up had always been worth just as much as the actual screams to Jones and he knew he had plenty of time to make the new plan go right. The knife cut away at the last strand of rope- he'd guessed correctly that they had only found the ones that he had checked in the 'fight'- and he let all of his bindings drop at the same time as he dodged to the side, letting out an ear piercing scream.

Vaguely he noticed Woolf curling further in on himself with a visible shudder and he pitched the shriek slightly higher so that it hurt as he slashed violently with the knife. Jones dodged roughly, the rage and hate felt only reflected in their eyes, as Deku kicked the chair into their path with a feigned, pained howl sending them toppling over. The following scuffle was short lived as they failed to recover and Deku quickly subdued them so that they were no longer awake.

       His throat was sore by then but he kept up the caterwauling as he dragged Jones out of sight. He mentally winced at the metal on metal sound that screeched out as he opened the only other door of the room- he had to act fast to keep the metal somethings from clattering to the ground with tell-tale clangs. The thumps however, he took some joy in creating as he situated Jones inside of the small area. With a smug smile he turned the handle and slammed it with a loud crack.

        He'd never liked Jones, in part, he was willing to admit, because of the others quirk. Not it's existence, he wasn't the type to judge somebody over something they couldn't control, but the joy they took in using it on others bugged him in ways he couldn't quite explain. Causing pain wasn't the only thing it could be used for after all- he knew that for a fact, he'd done quite a bit of research into it once. Smiling to himself he picked up one of the broken chair's legs and with an apologetic smile- not that they would notice it considering- slammed it into the back of Woolf's head.

      He winced as the wood splintered with a loud crack and barely managed to catch them before they fell to the floor. Blood pooled from the newly made wound but he knew he could do nothing to staunch it... except... he quickly pulled up the hood on the back of their outfit, pressing it against the wound, the flowing red slowed to the point where he felt comfortable leaving them to be found.

        Woolf was not a brave man. He was kind and jovial with other career informants, but he would not stand up for anybody should they find themselves in a fight. And deep down the sadness and defeat weighed upon Woolf, Izuku could see it.  It didn't matter that this was the second time in their scant meetings that the other was content to sit by when he was going to be tortured, Izuku didn't wish death for them. He smiled sadly down at their now bloodied form- an exact replica of himself- as he created a cut on his arm to add to the blood and make the amount seem worse. Woolf just didn't notice that protesting was an option.

        A final glance about the room and Izuku picked up the stick Woolf had walked in with and carefully opened the door, sliding out to wait for Woolf's guide, and clicking play and tossing the recording device inside the cellar room as he shut the door. His screams echoed from behind the tightly closed door and Izuku suppressed a smirk at 'his' guide's wince when they arrived.

         Instead he kept his face carefully blank as he was carefully escorted from the base, focusing instead on mimicking Woolf's few, ever-present mannerisms, slipping into the disguise of Woolf almost as easily as Woolf could slide into his.  Either way nobody but a practiced eye would notice after all the hours they had had to put into copying each other, pretending to be themselves pretending to be the other pretending to be them, and other mind boggling scenarios.

        He didn't find out about Jone's fate until after the heroes had cleared the area and he could access the reports. Jones, or at least his corpse, had been burned out of existence by Dabi. Izuku quickly stamped down the flash of pity that sprung up despite's how horrible they had been in life. 

        Izuku walked carefully into the near silent building listening as faint rasping breaths evened out before quieting entirely as he calmly headed towards the one source of light in the building; a familiar flickering red-orange flames.  The voice that spoke up on greeting, when he got close enough to see the three figures, was cracked as if it hadn't been used in a long time.

       "Hello, Pantomath, you've finally come to join us then. I had wondered where my dearest old friend had disappeared off to all those years ago. Seeing you now though... I suppose it's no wonder. Nox..." The man sitting atop a medical bed breathed deeply seeming to savor the ease in which he could now do so, one hand carding through the slowly dimming brightly colored hair of the man who sat slumped in the chair beside him, "He's always been hung up on that dream of his rather than any true ambition." They grinned with a newly reformed mouth, "Perhaps that's why we got along, but now that petty dream has brought me you, had restored me to my former glory; what people thought no ability could ever manage to do! The irony of it all is not lost on me. So many looking forward and yet never thinking to look back."

"Hmm..." Izuku's head tilted slightly to the side as he gave the man an unimpressed look, "You really do have a flair for the dramatics. It doesn't matter though, like you said, I am here," he paused to smirk slightly before adding on flatly, "So why don't we get down to business."

Jin couldn't help but let his eyes track them as they came back after yet another all-nighter of self-appointed reconnaissance missions and wish there was more he could do to take the burden from the other. At this rate they would work themself to the ground... but if he stopped them then.... he would never do that. Instead Jin smiled- it wasn't fake, the other's eyes lit up as the green orbs had landed on him- as they always did- leaving the familiar warmth to settle in his chest, if nothing else he was able to help just by being there- he set a freshly made plate of eggs before them, "Here you go, Dekiru, eat up before you get some rest, got it?"

Deku smiled back, the last drops of world-weary tiredness slipping back behind his eyes as he sat down on the stool, "Sure, thanks Jin, I'd be lost without you."

       Mwhhahaha you guys were forgetting about all those parts I put in Pantomath about they didn't trust him... perhaps they were right to, weren't you? Mwhahahhaa.

Okay, moving on, this has been the last chapter of What Makes a Hero, but there will be one more book in the Pantomath series, the following chapters are a fun extra that I made because you've made it to the end of this angst fest! As well as an authors note on the final book.

      It's been amazing writing this and thank you for all of your support!

      -T.A.L.A.