After what happened last time in Aizawa’s room, I didn’t visit him again.

I was sure he didn’t want to see anyone else, especially not after Katsuki and I nearly thrashed Monoma through the wall.

It’d been three weeks and Keigo still hadn’t woke up.

The secrecy around his wings worried me so much I’d had endeavored to find and real his whole medical analysis.

Not a word had been written about them.

Still, I’d managed to find a decent book about bird’s wings and planned to check it tonight before paying Keigo my daily visit.

I needed to see Leo, too.

I’d finished my last bag today and though my body was still pumped up, my organism was still processing the drug too quickly.

Already sweat pooled over my upper lip and under my arm pits.

Breathing through a mask seemed weird today, as if it was the first day I was wearing one.

Shit, it was hot in here.

“You’re okay ?”

I shot Dad a short glance, making eye contact but not as much as I usually would : despite how I’d hidden the smell and the visible effects on my body through various genjutsus, I was still scared that he’d discover everything just by looking at me.

I put down the hand I’d used to weep my clammy face and nodded.

“Just a bit-”

‘Hot’ wouldn’t cut.

My physical discomfort was only due to chemicals released by my brain to make me feel the need of the drug.

“ - tired”

He hummed and said nothing else.

I’d considered stopping drug use but it wasn’t viable for many reasons : it was not because it made me feel better or calmer or happier in general – no, this was merely a nice bonus.

Drug was useful because it kept me sharp and strong ; I only managed to go through all the things (training included) I had to in a day because I used it.

But I really didn’t use because I needed it. I could stop if I wanted to. A few hours without were nothing for me.

“Stop twitching”

My left leg had been hitting the floor repeatedly and nervously without me realizing it.

“Sorry”

The last heroes were seating ; the cameras rolled on, and the judge started listing out the usual ‘criminals’ names, the crimes they committed and their sentences.

As usual, no heroes were taken apart : but I’d heard of people who’d fled and abandoned civilians, crumbling under the pressure.

I couldn’t find in me to blame them.

But I knew they’d be put through justice, too, and I knew they’d face harsher consequences.

Nothing was worse than a coward.

Mentally dozing off, I kept dutifully my eyes on the judge, fingers hitting in rhythm my thigh.

The cameras were rolling around us, zooming on our faces and then going back to the judge.

One on my left came painfully close to my face, as if the cameraman wanted to headbutt me with it.

By now I was used to it, and I knew everyone here was too ; I was reviewing the last progress on my fuinjutsu.

I’d successfully managed to store a clone inside a seal.

Taking him out had been easy, but I was now trying to put more inside : the greater the number, the more important the chakra boost I’d get afterwards.

Once I’d manage, I’d have to work on putting the seal on an animal and try to stabilize it.

I was pretty sure I’d blow up quite a handful of rats, but-

“… Todoroki”

The name slipped smoothly from the judge’s mouth.

Everyone froze, even the camera crew.

On my right, Dad had turned white, his fists gripping the fabric of his dark blue trouser so hard it looked like he was going to tear it apart.

“For participating in Tokyo’s terrorist attack and inflicting debilitating injuries to a prominent Hero that inhibited him from carrying out his duties in this period of crisis, the sentence is the following”

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Dad stood up, eyes ablaze with panic.

His skin was getting red. He was sweating bullets.

“Death by lethal injection”

My head snapped to the judge.

Eyes still on the sheet of paper, she pursed her lips, frozen for she knew who she had just condemned.

Slowly, she took off her glasses and put them on her desk ; then she waved at the cameras and all were turned off.

She looked up to Dad, apologetic, her voice not anymore business like :

“I’m sorry sir but the sentence has already been carried out”

And the shock that I read in Dad’s gaze morphed into dread then settled on pure terror.

“I-”

I stood up.

He blinked.

My muscles were coiled, my eyes roaming over the room full of tense Heroes, my heart beating so fast it hurt.

My sharingan threatened to come to life but I reigned it in, waiting for Dad to make the decision and move first : who would he kill first ? The judge ?

And if he went for her, I’d have to strike the most important Heroes first ; they were the biggest threats.

I saw Ryukyu two rows back and (?) behind us.

I’d behead him and then freeze them all ; no, the farthest would have time to get away. Cementos could be troublesome.

I’d have to hit them first and strong, make sure none of them could escape or pose the slightest threat to us ; thus I’ll burn them alive.

Ryukyu was the only one I expected to survive ; I’ll have to behead her.

Even if Tokyo was fully locked, I was confident the military wouldn’t manage to respond in time.

Maybe Dad would want to go after Shirai.

I was certain this decision couldn’t have been taken without his permission.

I hoped Jin Woo was away. There really was something about this guy and his Quirk that rubbed me wrong.

Otherwise, between him and the might of a full country against us, and considering I’d have to protect my father from, let’s say, people like Overhaul or Jin Woo, then I’d have to use my joker way ahead of time and take hostage the whole city.

They would let us leave ; I knew enough people saw me as (instable) to make them believe my threats.

Then we’d have to take a boat, fuck off to China, certainly fight off their own military that will wait for us there and then and find a way to get back to Italy.

Teka would find a way to meet us and get us back home quicker.

thought he’d blew up, start screaming like a madman, try to threaten everyone around us.

“I-”

It was a whisper that broke into nothing.

My eyes snapped to Dad’s face.

Eyebrows furrowed, his eyes were full of confusion.

I waited, heart beating more slowly, a weird sensantion de calme filling my whole body.

Two kunais were hidden in the cuffs of my tailored coat, ready to glide in my hands in a second.

I waited.

I expected the confusion in his eyes to become pure anger, I expected the temperature to rise until everyone’s lungs started cooking from the inside, I expected him to scream like a madman, I expected him to grab the judge by her throat and threaten to kill everyone.

That’s what I would’ve done.

I waited for him to hit first.

Yet he spinned on his heels and calmly went to the door, as stiff as a robot.

Everyone watched him leave.

It took me a moment too long to realize we wouldn’t hurt anyone.

I followed him briskly, yet a few paths behind, still a bit taken aback.

His muscles were rolling under his shirt like an uncoiled (voir déf) panther’s preparing itself to strike.

We didn’t hurt anyone even on our way out.

Once in front of the car I asked, perplexed.

“Are we going to see Shirai ?”

Maybe he only wanted to hurt him.

I’d mapped most of the defense’s headquarters and I could confidently say that even if we were outnumbered we’d manage to murder our way out.

“No”

His voice was hoarse, full of emotion.

Eyebrows furrowed, I said nothing.

He didn’t spare me a glance.

The ride to the hospital was a silent one.

He was still unhealthily white, creases around his tired eyes, wrinkled skin resting heavily on his furrowed brows.

He looked as if he’d gotten twenty years older from the trial’s room to our car.

The car stopped in front of the hospital’s sliding doors and left us here.

As soon as Dad’s foot hit the paved, he picked up his pace.

The faster we went the more I felt his distress and my heart clenched painfully.

We climbed the stairs two by two, ran through the corridors and went up two more levels, nearly running, then breaking into a full run that had a nurse shouting at us to stop.

And then, suddenly, Dad stopped in front of an unassuming door on the last floor ; I smoothly spinned to avoid colliding with me.

Breath short, chest heaving, he looked at the closed door with wide eyes.

I expected soldiers on either side of it.

Of course there would be no one.

His mouth became a hard, cold line. He clenched his fist.

I waited for him to open the door.

He didn’t.

It was as if he couldn’t muster the courage to open it.

He looked like a sentenced to death walking to a scaffold, knowing what was going to happen but refusing to accept that it was ineluctable.

I had to look away for a moment, Adam apple bobbing painfully in my throat.

Slowly, eyes resting on him, I moved forward and put my hand on the handle.

I expected a word, a nod, a confirmation.

But his gaze was full of anguish and I couldn’t bear to see for a moment longer how frightened he was.

Jaw clenched, I pushed the handle and moved aside.

A fresh smell hit my nose, as if the room had been thoroughly cleaned not long ago.

The bed was made and curtains moved slowly in front of a half open window, pushed by a winter breeze.

On the clean sheets was a blank urn full with ashes

Dad didn’t move an inch, as if the mere sight of it had stunned him.

I went closer and opened the lid ; a foul smell hit my nose.

“Is it him ?”, he croaked

The weakness in his voice hit me like a stab to the heart.

No child should ever have to witness his father so hurt.

For a moment, I considered lying.

“I’m sorry”

He clenched his fists, closed his mouth as if he wanted to keep inside everything, emotion building up in his eyes, chest heaving as if he had trouble breathing.

The memory burned itself in my mind.

“That’s it- I-”

He moved his hand, gesturing at the room, lips pursed into a thin line, eyes glassy.

“I can’t anymore. That’s too much. I’ve given too much”

I perked up, hand still holding the lid of the ash coffin.

“What do you mean ?”

“I’ve given them too much. They just took again and again and I-”

His voice wavered.

“I can’t be a hero anymore”

He shook his head, jaw clenched as if he were trying to keep in all of his bottled up emotions.

And he left me alone with my dead brother’s ashes.

*

Author's note :

Guess who's not dead and hasn't abandonned the story ?

I was actually on a ten days break (as mentionned on my P@treon's public space, you should check it if you feel like I'm dissapearing 'without a warning') to plan the last chapters of Part 2 : there are now only 12 chapters left before we start Part 3 (for the P@treon members I mean, because otherwise you and I are still together for 39 chapters before Part 3).

And after that we'll start Part 3, the last part of this story, which should be the most violent, gore and intense part of the story - and should be around 20 chapters.

And after that I get a break, wow ! Can't believe I'm still alive lmao.

Anyway, just wanted to say we're back on the usual schedule, hope I didn't scare you (too much) with the sudden vanishing and, as always, see you in the next update everyone !