"Freedom-

man's capacity to take a hand in his own development."

-Rollo May

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3 minutes before Present Time-

The kid looked brighter, in a way, as if he wasn't quite there, but he was on the path to healing.

It was nice... until it wasn't.

'...I have to fight him. Again. While being handicapped, drained, injured, and fighting an opponent I've just spent the last five minutes explaining the intricacies of my 'quirk' to. Hallelujah.'

He still had to win on top of that, or All for One would... In truth, that was one of the things that ticked him off the most. What kind of punishment would he receive if he were to fail? Would he receive punishment at all? He reached the semi-finals, was that good enough? All for One was relying on one of the most ancient of evils - the fear of the unknown - to keep him motivated. For a normal person, letting their own imagination become the knife that cut them was incredibly effective. Well, he never really was a normal person to being with.

Being suicidal was a pretty effective way to crush whatever nerves you might have had, in an odd way.

Don't get it wrong, he still had his moments of anxiety, but things like this... They were dull, in a way.

Lacking.

He just had to ignore his instincts for now because there was a tiresome concept that existed called the big picture. As far as he was aware, it was impossible to kill someone when, well, you were dead yourself. Plus, he was the only one in a position to do so, so he couldn't count on other people picking up the slack.

(Trust me, he tried. Hiring assains through a third party with the surprisingly generous salary that All for One had given him himself, inciting people who hated the illusive Symbol of Evil to attack him en masse, and using a foolproof plan to poison his tea with an indetectable and odorless base - he just drank it normally, the bastard - all while pinning the blame on some grunt. None of it worked.)

"W-We will resume the fight in a minute. Both contestants, please get ready to enter the arena..."

The static-filled, electric voice stirred him up and out of his sea of thoughts. He stood up, momentarily forgetting the painful burns on the bottom of his feet. He didn't forget for long. A sharp hiss escaped from his mouth, and it was his turn to be starred upon by the entire room.

"Show me your feet. Now."

Feeling her authoritative tone soak into his bone marrow, Deku knew that there was no way he was going to get out of this now. He crunched down to the floor and began to try prying his shoes off his feet. They were stuck to his feet and wouldn't come off.

"Umm, would someone mind giving me a rather sharp knife?"

Recovery Girl looked at him with her actual eyes. He had begun to peg their appearance as a sign that she was serious.

"Allen, what do you believe is the cause of this? At what point did it happen in your fight?"

"Actually, it's self-inflicted," He looked up to see the dawning horror on their faces, and it seems like they had gotten the wrong idea. He hadn't had to resort to that in a while, so their concerns were misconstrued. Although it was only because he had been so busy recently, he hardly had any time to really think.

His situation could be considered a blessing if you looked hard enough and squinted.

"Haha, it was when I was escaping that ball of fire Shouto-san attacked me with. I'm not a pure enhancement type, more like a jack of all trades, so to get enough speed to get out of it, I had to overcharge my feet with electricity. It's not as bad as it looks. It's probably started to heal already."

He thought, before tacking on.

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"It's fairly common with all lightning types; if we actually hurt ourselves with it, it quickly reverts back to normal."

'Just like Kaminari. If a regular person actually got that kind of traumatic brain injures, they'd probably be a vegetable for the rest of their lives. Yet, he just becomes an idiot for a second and quickly returns to normal. It bugs me on so many levels when quirks can't be explained by science...'

Recovery Girl just stared at him like she was trying to peer into the depths of his soul.

"It wouldn't matter because this brat wouldn't be able to get treatment, not if he wants to continue on in the tournament, that is."

"Endeavor, I would advise you not to antagonize the other contestant."

Deku just stared at the duo's fight that exchanged words instead of fists. It was nice that he wouldn't have to showcase the mess that his foot had become seeing as Shouto could possibly have an adverse effect on him (or well, render him unable to do what All for One wanted), but at the same time, he felt slightly disgusted. Because despite Endeavor's profession, his first reaction when seeing an injured kid was to use it to threaten said kid for the betterment of his son.

'I could berate him in public... In fact, that would probably relieve quite a bit of stress. But at the same time, he's the No 2 hero... Eh, who cares. This is just a make-believe identity anyway. A make-believe identity with a rather powerful secret weapon at that.'

"...You really are desperate, aren't you? And slightly disgusting to boot."

The towering mass of muscle and flame slowly turned around, the surrounding temperature increasing to never-before-seen heights.

"What did you just say to me, brat?"

Instead of getting intimated or scared, Allen, no, Deku smiled. It was a pale, dainty thing that was the exact opposite of everything a smile was supposed to embody. It was a smile filled with apathy, contempt, and pity.

"I'm sorry, are you hard of hearing? I can repeat it for you if you wish."

The air boiled.

"Ah, I see. You heard what I said perfectly, didn't you? You were just trying to intimate me... Hmm, I honestly couldn't tell. It was a rather... half-assed attempt."

The man was livid by now, molten fire circulating in his veins instead of blood as he loomed overhead.

"Hey, Endeavor, are you trying to threaten me now? The temperature's gotten rather high over here. I don't think that you're-," He scoffed for extra measure. "-being all that heroic."

His eyelid slightly twitched, barely holding back from torching everything.

"...Have your parents failed at educating you that much? You insolent brat."

He let a touch of his true self slip through the mask he had so carefully constructed. He didn't just wear it this mission; he had worn it all of his life. An image of normality, one of okayness. Being depressed, being suicidal, they weren't seasonal bags that you toated around because it was all the rage. It wasn't supposed to be romanticized. If it was possible to remove it, to heal the damage it caused, and to seal it away for good, those who had it would pay any price.

It was soul-draining, messy, and raw.

It wasn't pretty, charming, or something that fit in nicely with the rest of society.

That was just an illusion crafted by those who were plagued by it. And they hung onto it for dear life.

And so, when all those watching got a faint taste of it in the seemingly endless depth of his eyes, they couldn't help but take a tiny, minuscule step back. Anyone would have; he had black holes for eyes. Eyes that gobbled up all of the happiness, and cheer, never letting it reach the person on the other side of the hole. All of it was shredded into fine dust, and... he could only watch.

They were terribly sad, empty eyes.

"Do not insult her, Mr. Endeavor. You're free to pick at whatever you wish about me, but my mother is off limits. She gave me the best of everything, including education, at the cost of all of her time and energy. It's simple, really. I'm not respecting you because I don't find you worthy of respect. Hey, is the reason that Shouto-san is afraid of his fireside because of you?"

His whole body flinched.

"Ah, so it is like that! You must feel so proud of yourself as a parent! I can feel you wondering how I know from all the way over here. Well, for one he often said during the match that he would win to reject someone. At that point, I ruled out that he could be against it because of trauma or other similar people. So it must be a person then who was around him routinely; someone who he met only once wouldn't have such an impact on his psyche that he would fall into a full-blown panic attack."

"Y-You were the one who caused his panic attack-" he spoke out shakily

"Not quite, I do not have the control to create something that does not already exist. I just accidentally removed the limiters and allowed it to surface. Now, where were we... Ah, yes, the culprit must be someone important to him and be around frequently enough to matter. Friends, maybe, but that's a bit of a stretch. Friends don't usually have that much importance in someone's mind. It's quite frequently family in cases like this. I couldn't quite be sure, but your reaction told me."

The black hole expanded.

"You're the one who abused him."

'Well, I already knew that from the beginning, but I needed a reason to know what I know. It's really not all that hard to figure out.'

He strutted past the shocked and shaking figure.

"Of course, this is all circumstantial evidence. But wherever there's smoke, fire is usually not far behind. Since you seem to be fond of threats, I'll play along with your game. If you try to retaliate as a result of this little conversation, 1) you'll have to answer to the American Government, and 2) I can't promise that the media won't hear of your little misadventures. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a match."

He bowed heavily in another direction, more specifically where Nezu was.

"I apologize for my lack of manners, sir. I've kept you waiting because of my insignificant squabble. I can begin the match at any time."

Nezu looked slightly shell-shocked, but he calmed down with a long, heavy sigh.

"...We're going to talk about this later. Just, just go to your match."

He straightened up from his bow.

"Understood."