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Rain of Sins
Trial of Fools: Ch 7

Trial of Fools: Ch 7

-Rain of Sins-

-Trial of Fools: Ch 7-

“If you truly believed your ideals you would go out and prove them... you don’t have any ideals? Impossible. No one without an ideal can have that much fire in their voice. Well, then I’d suggest you get new ones.”

“Then I’d suggest you get new ones.”

“Then I’d suggest you get new ones.”

Izuku Midoriya stared impassively at the tank in front of him as the creature inside it thrashed about in pain.

Another failure. He sighed and dropped his gaze to his hands- more specifically the black metal machine that wrapped around his right forearm, a streamlined and compacted version of the launcher he’d tested during his ‘visit’ to Stain.

“Then I’d suggest you get new ones.”

Izuku frowned.

His recent discussion with the red ghost had brought memories of their first encounter to the forefront- more specifically the horrible state he was in at the time, still grieving for his mother and scrambling to pick up the pieces.

Or, should he say, the horrible state he was still in now .

After all, throwing himself headfirst into research, simply for the sake of research, and to keep his mind off things, didn’t really classify as “healthy” did it? Or even as an “ideal”, for that matter?

No… it was just something to keep himself busy, to keep himself distracted…

“Subject vital signs lost, experiment failed.” The computer droned over the speakers, the rudimentary AI realizing something had gone wrong, long after it’d been very obvious to Izuku.

“Cleansing tank.” The liquid in the tank sloshed as it slowly began to drain, before a large hole opened at the bottom of the tank, exponentially speeding up the process and whisking away the organic “specimen” to a cold storage room for future study.

A mechanical clunk echoed through the room, and the vat began slowly filling with liquid again.

“Would you like to begin another test?”

“No.” Izuku sighed and removed his rebreather, his breath fogging in the cold air of the lab. “No, don’t start another test, that’ll be all for now. Science… ideals… they can wait for a day.”

“Sir?” The AI questioned, the response not fitting any of its prewritten protocols.

“Shut down computer. Today’s marked as ‘do not disturb’ on my calendar for a reason, I have something I need to do.”

“Affirmative, sir. Powering down now.”

Izuku Midoriya sat in his chair, staring blankly down at his hands.

He couldn’t be busy- couldn’t be distracted… not today…

-Rain of Sins-

Bakugo Katsuki sat in his chair, staring blankly down at his hands.

“You know why you’re here right?” Aizawa questioned, his face set in a cold scowl that gave nothing away.

Bakugo kept his eyes down, unable or perhaps even unwilling to lift his head.

“...yes sir.”

Aizawa paused and raised an eyebrow at his less than explosive reaction.

“And that would be?”

“My gauntlet attack.” Bakugo muttered.

Aizawa waited a second, waited for Bakugo to continue, to defend himself, or blame it on someone else.

…one second turned to two… to three… to four…

Aizawa sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Look.” He said with a straight tone. “I understand that things can happen fast in the heat of the moment, with your adrenaline high, everything flying at you at once, and your fight & flight reflexes screaming at you. But that’s exactly why we do these exercises, so that you’re all prepared for real fights, and can keep a level head in the field.”

Aizwa waited a moment again for Bakugo to reply, but when he didn’t, the teacher sat back and sighed a second time.

“You're in hot water for this, but you're not in trouble . I refuse to punish a student for a heat of the moment mistake during a fight exercise, because brow beating those reactions could cost your life against real villains. That being said… you did use unnecessary and dangerous force on a classmate. You’ll be receiving detentions with me to try work on your character. Depending on how those go, me and Nezu will be reviewing your participation in the sports festival- regardless of that however, a repeat of this will NOT happen again.”

The teacher tilted his head, trying to meet his student’s eyes.

“Do I make myself clear.”

“Yes sir.” Bakugo slowly nodded his head, still refusing to meet his teacher’s gaze.

“Good.” Aizawa leaned back into his chair, feeling older than he had before the conversation. “Now scram, get out of my office.”

-Rain of Sins-

Izuku stood staring off into the distance as rain drops slowly began to fall around him, hitting his head and wetting his hair.

A distant crack of thunder echoed in the distance as the storm slowly began to roll in.

“Hey Green,” Yuyara walked over with a sad smile. “How’re ya holding up?”

“I’m fine, how about you?”

The mint haired lab head hummed audibly to herself as she stared off at the gathering clouds, pointedly not responding to either part of Izuku’s sentence.

“It’s a shame about the weather,” She said instead. “The forecast said it was supposed to be clear today.”

“Eh, honestly, I don’t mind.” Izuku followed her gaze off to the horizon. “If anything, I prefer it… the world shouldn’t get to be happy today.”

Yuyara hummed in agreement, and a comfortable silence descended on the two as they watched the growing storm, coats lightly blowing in the wind.

“...Thanks for coming.” Izuku whispered. “It really means a lot.”

“Heh, of course I came, Green- wouldn’t leave you hanging like that, even if I wanted to.” Yuyara raised a hand and patted his shoulder- something that’d become harder to do since he took his serum. “And the boss is on his way as well, he’s just making sure all of the damage control people are in the right place so no one can call him back, even if something goes wrong.”

The boy didn’t answer, instead a distant crack of thunder did that for him. And a butterfly fluttered, dancing gracefully between the raindrops of the coming storm.

-Rain of Sins-

Bakugo stood staring off into the distance as rain drops slowly began to fall around him, hitting his head and wetting his hair.

A flash of lightning briefly lit up the distant clouds as the storm slowly began to roll in.

Other students made their way past him as they exited the school, many giving him weird looks as they passed. Whether it was because they’d heard of the incident or just because he was standing alone in the rain, he didn’t know, nor did he care.

He was waiting for someone.

Luckily he didn’t have to wait long, and Momo soon exited the main UA building.

Their gazes met.

Her eyes widened, her mouth opened, and her eyebrows rose, and then…

Nothing.

Her face was obscured by the back of her hair, as she walked away in the opposite direction.

His gut screamed. She was ignoring him! Really? The silent treatment !? How mature! He could run after her. He was physically faster, physically stronger, and could run her down, corner her, and force a conversation!

It would be easy.

Bakugo let out a tired sigh as he turned around and trudged towards the school’s parking lot, kicking any dumb rock or can that happened to be in his path. Usually he just walked home, but his mom had insisted on picking him up today, even before the whole gauntlet thing happened.

Actually, had Aizawa even contacted his parents about that? He couldn’t remember him saying anything about it.

Trudging his way over to the old, ten years out of style, beat up tin can that his Mom drove, Bakugo popped open the back door and climbed inside. Unsurprisingly, his appearance immediately caught his Mom’s attention.

“Kid, what the Hell happened to you? You look like you got put through a war zone, you ok?”

“I’m fine.” He grunted, and tried to wipe some more of his gauntlet’s residual soot from his, well, everything. “Just some training, and whatnot.”

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His mother gave him a look that said she didn’t entirely believe him, but didn’t press on it. “Well I had packed a tux in the back for you, so we could just head straight from here and get there ahead of time, but we’ll have to run home to clean you up before we can head out.”

“What?” He looked up from his lap, and for the first time he noticed that his mom was in her old dress that she used to wear to company parties at her old job. “Where are we going?”

“ Of course you don’t remember. ” His mother muttered to herself as she let out a weary sigh, and looked at him through the rear view mirror’s reflection.

“Inko’s funeral.”

-Rain of Sins-

Momo sat alone at the almost unusually long dinner table, poking half heartedly at the cuisine in front of her.

Her mother’s seat at the far end of the table was empty, and none of the expensive wine glasses she always had with her were present, making it obvious she wasn’t coming back. But the mostly empty bottle of fine liquor gave a clear hint as to where she was.

Her father’s seat at the opposite far end of the table was also empty, just not in a physical sense. Her father sat there, food hardly touched and water glass full, as he flipped through his newspaper while stroking his gray mustache and occasionally “hmm”ing at interesting articles.

“We, uh, we had a bad training exercise today.” Momo said, trying to start a conversation.

“Oh really?” Her father responded, not looking up from his paper.

“Yeah, we were possibly the two strongest teams in the entire class, being put up against each other, and I was with a, uhm, acquaintance of mine.

Her father “hmm”ed, and flipped the page of his newspaper.

“We won but it was really close. I had to fight Shoto Todoroki, the son of Endeavor.”

“Is that so?”

“...someone almost died.”

“Very good dear.” A pause to flip the page. “Always know that I’m proud of you.”

Momo let out a weary sigh.

“Thank you dad, it means a lot.”

Gently picking up her knife, she cut into the lush food. Just another dinner eating alone, at a table made to hold an entire ballroom.

-Rain of Sins-

The world moved, but only in blurs. The world spoke, but it was muted. And Bakugo… Bakugo was numb.

Everything was a blur, he barely had time to register everything being thrown at him, let alone process it all.

People moved around him, speaking in hushed voices, mourning. Some people he recognised from his mom’s old school photos, but the majority were complete strangers, including the large group of men and women, wearing formal white coats over their dress wear- all with the insignia of Jaku Hospital sewed right over their heart.

Inko’s will had forbidden anyone from using any of her family’s money on her funeral. It had been insistent that every penny of it go to Izuku. Everyone understood why of course, the Midoriya’s weren’t the wealthiest of families, but it had still been a hit to the gut to Mistuki Bakugo, first she lost her old friend, and now she wasn’t even allowed to say goodbye?

Which was why this entire event was being paid in full as a charity fund by Jaku General Hospital. Specifically by Doctor Kyudai Garaki, as a gift for his personal apprentice and named successor, Izuku Midoriya.

Izuku was the runner up for one of the largest hospitals in Japan?

Auntie Inko was… dead?

Why hadn’t he heard about any of it!?

…but in truth, he knew why.

Because he’d been too caught up in training to be the best, too caught up in his own world. He hadn’t sat down to watch the news since he’d gotten into UA, and any conversation not regarding it had been background noise at best for him.

A priest was at the podium, standing behind the wooden casket that was closed for obvious reasons, speaking somber words of remorse and religion that reverberated on the somber winds of the far off storm.

Once his speech had concluded, the man made to call up Dr Garaki, who refused with a soft shake of his head, doing more for his image than any PR speech could have done- proving that he was really just doing this for his student.

The other person to be called up made Bakugo’s blood freeze in his veins.

Izuku Midoriya

But the Izuku who made his way to the podium wasn’t the Deku he remembered. Six feet tall, lean, with muscles that filled out his once lanky frame into something intimidating, and his head held high, this Izuku was a far cry from the one he’d butted heads with back in middle school.

‘What happened to you?’

Izuku thanked the priest as he took the podium, and as he turned to address the audience, everyone was silent. He pulled a paper out of his pocket, obviously a speech of some sorts, but after his eyes lingered on it for a few seconds, he just sighed sadly, shaking his head, and discarded it back into his pocket.

“Ideals…” He spoke after hesitating for a few seconds. “Ideals aren't something easy to put into words, they aren't even always something that can truly be put into words. I can’t tell you the exact ideals my mother stood for, I doubt she could put them into exact words even if she were here herself…

But I can tell you how she showed them.”

“My Mother,” He said, “ was someone who always put others before herself, even when she shouldn't have. Someone who placed the wellbeing of her family over her own, and consistently worked herself into sickness by worrying about the people she cared for. For me .”

Izuku paused, struggling for a moment to gather his words.

“She… She was a genuinely good person, in a world where those are so rare to come by.

It’s perhaps the cruelest joke the way she left us. Not by old age, or by acting on her ideals to protect those she loved- but merely as a casualty of someone else’s ideals. Ideals of power, strength, and glory, that cared little for the flowers crushed beneath their boots in pursuit of such.

My personal ideals have been upended because of this tragedy, and I don’t know when I’ll find new ones- if I’ll ever find new ones…

All I can think of is preventing this sort of tragedy from ever taking place again.”

Izuku had to stop for a moment, taking a deep breath, and blinking a few times.

“But… But maybe that’s all we can take from this tragedy…” His eyes fell to the casket, lingering there. “A new resolve to prevent any like it from happening again.”

With those words, Izuku slowly detached from the podium, and gently pulled a bundle of cloth out of his coat pocket as he slowly walked to the closed casket.

Away from the microphone, alone with his mother for the last time, there were a thousand things he wanted to say.

‘I’m sorry.’ ‘If I had only been faster getting home.’ ‘Why did this have to happen?’ ‘You never deserved this.’

But in the end, he said the only thing he could say.

“I-I love you mom.” His voice hitched, and he closed his eyes in an attempt to stop his tears. “...Goodbye.”

Gently he reached out his hand, and laid his last gift attop the rich wood as it was slowly lowered into the ground- a genetically engineered emerald green rose with gold edges, one that wouldn’t decompose for as long as naturally possible. One to keep Inko’s beauty alive long into the future, even if no one could see it.

And just like that…

It was over.

Bakugo hazily watched as the casket was lowered, as the dirt was swiftly piled on, and as people began to leave. As Izuku began to leave. But he was snapped out of his trance as his mother grabbed his hand and gently pulled him to his feet.

“Come on.” She said softly as she began to tug him forward. “We need to talk to him.”

‘NO! Please no!’ He wanted so desperately to scream. That was the worst possible idea! Deku… Izuku had to DESPISE him! If not for what he’d done, than for what he was !

Just another power hungry Hero… just like the one that murdered auntie Inko…

But all too soon, the gap between them was closed, and Izuku’s emerald hair drew into view.

“I-Izuku!” Mistuki cried out to him before he could leave, his eyes widening in surprise when he saw her, but before he could say anything, Mistuki was already talking.

“I’m sorry!”

“Sorry?” Izuku asked in honest confusion. “But you didn’t do anything wro-”

“I DID!” She snapped, water prickling the edges of her eyes. “I-Inko told me- She made me promise! Promise that I’d look after you if something ever happened to her! When I heard about the fire I ran as fast as I c-could but y-you- I couldn’t- you w-were- I thought y-!”

The mother’s semi-drunken ramblings were cut short as Izuku held up his hand.

“For someone with the completely opposite personality of my mother, you two were exactly the same.” Izuku sighed sadly and put his hand on her shoulder. “You’re a genuinely good person, in a world where those are so rare to come by.” He gave her a meaningful look. “Take those words to heart, and make my mother proud.”

Mistuki couldn’t take it anymore, she broke down, crying as she hugged her best friend’s only son. Izuku for his part accepted the embrace, hugging her back and only drawing away once she’d calmed down.

“I meant what I said.” He gave her a reassuring smile. “Live a good life, and make my mother proud.”

And just like that, without so much as sparing a passing glance at Katsuki, Izuku left. Any thoughts of running after him were dispersed as the small group of people with white coats closed ranks around him, cutting off Bakugo’s line of sight.

Beside him, Bakugo’s mother sniffed and wiped her tears. “Come on kid,” She gently grabbed his shoulder and began guiding him back towards their car. “Let’s go home.”

But as he was dragged to the car for the second time that day, he was totally unresponsive, his mind too busy turning itself over in thought.

Izuku’s speech had been so obsessed with ideals, and finding new ones.

It prompted a question from the tratorous part in the back of Bakugo’s mind.

What were his ?

-Rain of Sins-

“Being forced to redirect Hawks was a major blow to us in every way regarding the festival, and without him we’re totally blind.” Meli Kinoshita, president of the Public Safety Commission, leaned forward, steel in her eyes. “You have full authority to make whatever kind of infiltration team you want, the only requirement is that you fix it, Dixie.”

“Don’t worry Miss, this is me we’re talking about.” William Dixie smiled charmingly. “I’ll have a team drafted and submitted for approval by the end of the day.”

“See that you do.”

The screen flickered off as the call ended and silence enveloped the room, but not normal silence, no this was meaningful silence. It wasn’t the type of silence you could up and leave the room during, and anyone with half a grasp of social ability would be able to pick up on it.

“...Sir?” Weiss turned and gave Dixie a calculating look. “You already have Tanya working to get into the festival, as we speak.”

“Indeed I do, and indeed she will. But her group isn’t the one I’ll be submitting for review.”

Weiss’ brows knit together, trying to string the pieces together, and how they fit between people as dangerous as Nezu and Kino.

“What exactly is our move here, sir?” He cautiously asked.

Dixie waited a long moment before responding, drumming his fingers atop his desk.

“Weiss, let me tell you ‘bout a game me and my brother played as kids.” Slowly he reached into his desk and brought out an old deck of cards. “We weren’t that well off money wise, so we didn’t have fancy gaming systems or even board games.” With respect Weiss never knew his superior had, Dixie gently eased the cards from the battered box and began to shuffle them.

“We were too young to pick up on poker or blackjack, so we made our own- ‘course we were too young to know how to make a good game as well.” Dixie placed the deck of cards face down between him and Weiss with a soft thud. “Th’ game was simple, you drew the top card and the higher the number, the higher your score.” He let out a soft chuckle. “Course score didn’t really mean nothin, you only ‘won’ by pulling a face card, and the ace of spades was the lottery.”

“So tell me, friend of mine,” Dixie leaned back in his chair and gestured for Weiss to draw a card, “How do you win this game?”

Weiss pulled a card, and made a face at the red 2 staring at him- the lowest scare you could get without an ace’s 1.

“You rig the deck.” Weiss said as he tossed the 2 back onto the pile. “You cheat, it’s the only way to guarantee anything in a game of luck.”

“Both right and wrong. That trick only works when you can get away with it, and the PSC’s done nothing but rig the deck for the past four decades. ” Dixie shrugged. “It’s expected of us. Everyone and their dog will be watching the deck closely to catch us in the act. So I ask again: How do you win this game?”

“You… You use it to your advantage somehow?” Weiss’ eyes narrowed, the gears turning in his head. “It’s a bluff.”

“That’s right.” Dixie nodded. “You use it. You let ‘em catch you, let ‘em think they’ve got you, and you use that distraction for all it’s worth.” He smirked and pulled the ace of spades out of his sleeve, which he’d swiped while suffling. “The ‘official’ team will be caught by Nezu, and he’ll have his ‘aha I got you’ victory moment, which will let Tanya’s team continue completely unhindered.” Dixe slapped the ace down onto the table, and let his chair slowly drift off to the side.

“You’ll get in trouble for sending in a second team without the President’s knowledge.”

“You say that like I don’t get in trouble as is,” He chuckled, “besides, they’ll be mad, but they won’t actually do anything so long as I give good results.”

“But all this just to get a team in that you specifically told not to touch anything?” Weiss asked, trying to fit all the pieces together. “That’s too many steps, too convoluted. It normally wouldn’t be with Nezu on the table, but you purposefully removed Hawks from spying for us, and he could have gotten around Nezu no problem...”

And then, like all moments of realization… It clicked.

“Wait.” He paused, blinking. ”You want to get in trouble for working Tanya under the President’s nose, you want them to think that’s your ace, that that’s where your attention is! It’s a double bluff!” Weiss looked to Dixie in open confusion and worry. “But for what ?”

Dixie didn’t respond for a moment, drumming his fingers on the table, and slowly turning his chair to face Weiss.

“...For the gun under the table.”

There was a pop from under the desk, and the chief of security slowly withdrew a manilla folder from his hidden compartment, which he handed to Weiss.

Curious, the old agent took the folder and flipped it open, after a second he froze, and another bout of meaningful silence filled the room.

“Before I decide whether or not to accept this, Sir, or if I should just go straight to the president.” Weiss said with a shaky sigh, letting his age show through. “Might I ask why?”

“For peace, in our time, Weiss.” Dixie said, a burning fire in his eyes. “For peace in our time.”

-End Chapter-