The black flame flickered. Faint. Cold. Alive.
Itami stared at it, unmoving, breath shallow. It didn't burn like his usual fire, it pulsed. A heartbeat. Foreign but familiar. It whispered, not in words, but in instinct.
The Nomu stopped. Just for a second. Its eyes, empty and animalistic, locked onto the flicker. Then, without a sound, it charged.
Itami raised his hand in desperation but the flame vanished. Gone. Snuffed out before it began.
His eyes widened. He tried to summon it again, anything, even heat—but nothing came. His body was spent. His quirk exhausted and hand badly burnt. The only thing left was the pain in his broken arm and the looming weight of death.
The Nomu's shadow fell over him. Itami clenched his teeth, bracing for the end.
Then the world cracked. A shockwave tore through the plaza.
"I AM HERE!!"
A blur of power crashed into the Nomu, sending it flying back with a thunderous SMASH. Dust and rubble exploded outward. Itami's body was lifted from the ground by the sheer force, hitting the concrete again.
When he looked up— All Might stood in the center of it all. Eyes burning. Not smiling.
The battle blurred.
Itami drifted in and out. His body wanted to shut down, but his mind clung to the edge of consciousness. Through hazy vision, he watched All Might trade blows with the monster—each strike splitting the air like gunfire. The Nomu tanked everything. Then regenerated. Then swung back twice as hard.
But All Might never stopped moving.
Even when his skin cracked. Even when his arm dropped limp. Even when the blood stained his chest—
He didn't stop.
And for a moment, Itami forgot the pain. The fear. The fire. He just watched.
Using all of his strength, he forced himself to his feet. Every muscle in his body screamed in protest. His right arm hung limp, bent at an unnatural angle, blood trailing from the fingertips. But he kept moving.
He staggered over to Midoriya, still fixated on the battlefield. The boy's tone was tight with disbelief.
"How are you even walking?"
Before Itami could respond, a shockwave from the clash knocked him off balance. His vision went white. His body gave in, dropping him hard to the ground.
He came to moments later, eyes fluttering open. The sky above him was colorless, streaked with smoke. He blinked and saw faces—Midoriya, Todoroki, Bakugo, Kirishima. All of them standing nearby, watching the dust settle.
He tried to move, but pain locked him in place—until a strong hand grabbed his good shoulder.
"Easy," Kirishima said, crouched beside him. "You're lucky to even be breathing, man."
"I feel worse than dead," Itami muttered, gritting his teeth.
"Still talking though," Kirishima smirked. "That's something."
Todoroki stood a few feet away, arms crossed. "All Might..."
The group turned to look.
All Might stood alone in the clearing. The Nomu was gone—blasted straight through the wall and deep into the mountain beyond. Only silence remained. Smoke drifted off the cracked ground around him like steam rising from a shattered engine.
But Itami noticed something strange. The steam... it wasn't from the impact. It was from All Might himself. He squinted.
That's when he heard it. A whisper. From Midoriya. Barely audible.
"...not much time left..."
Itami's eyes flicked toward him. Midoriya didn't notice. His hands were clenched. His face pale. His eyes locked on All Might.
Not much time left?
Itami didn't say anything. But the seed of doubt was planted.
Bakugo huffed. "Tch. That freak never stood a chance. All Might wiped the floor with him."
Kirishima gave a shaky nod. "Yeah... he's insane. Like... next level."
Todoroki didn't speak, but his eyes narrowed. He was thinking something.
Itami sat there quietly, breathing hard. He didn't believe what they were saying, not completely. Something was off. Then black mist swirled across the battlefield.
Kurogiri emerged, his form coalescing behind a trembling Shigaraki.
"You... you cheated..." Shigaraki hissed. "That Nomu was supposed to kill you... You weren't supposed to win... You're not weak at all!"
He scratched violently at his neck, twitching with rage. Midoriya tensed beside Itami. "No... not now..."
Itami turned. "What're you talking about?"
No answer.
Kurogiri leaned close to Shigaraki, voice cold and composed. "Tomura. He's vulnerable. You saw it. This is your chance."
Then—
Shigaraki moved.
The air distorted behind him. A full-blown charge. Todoroki's expression hardened. "They're not retreating?"
Kirishima's jaw clenched. "Looks like were fighting guys..."
Then it happened. Midoriya stepped forward—and vanished. A blur of motion. He didn't sprint—he launched.
"Midoriya!!" Kirishima shouted.
"He's charging in!" Todoroki barked.
Itami didn't think. His heart kicked into overdrive. Adrenaline dumped into his system like a floodgate cracking open. His boots ignited. And he moved.
Bakugo turned with a snap. "Hey dumbass—what the hell are you—?!"
Too late.
Itami shot forward, searing heat lashing from his legs. Every nerve in his body screamed, every cell lit with fire. His right arm was dead weight. His vision narrowed into a tunnel.
But he pushed through.
I can't just stand here. Not anymore.
Midoriya and Shigaraki were seconds from impact—
And so was he.
Itami's boots scorched the ground behind him. He surged forward on instinct alone, the fire in his chest hotter than anything his quirk could ever generate. With one swift motion, he unsheathed his wakizashi, angling it low and tight—
driving it deep into Shigaraki's back. The villain's scream tore across the battlefield, animal and raw.
He stumbled, eyes wide, the momentum of Midoriya's charge sending him careening sideways instead of striking true. The attack missed his vitals but not by much.
Shigaraki collapsed, gasping, clawing at the blade still buried in his side.
Kurogiri reacted immediately, black mist exploding outward, shielding Shigaraki from another hit. "Tomura, we must retreat!"
"No—!" Shigaraki hissed through gritted teeth. "He—He ruined it...!"
But he was already fading into the fog. Midoriya fell onto the ground, his attack ineffective but the right distraction for Itami.
Itami tried to speak—tried to take a step forward. But his body failed him. The pain caught up to the adrenaline. His legs buckled. His vision blurred.
And as his knees hit the ground, he looked up just long enough to see Shigaraki vanishing into the mist—his hand gripping the wakizashi still jammed into his back.
Then the sound of rushing wind. A blur of movement overhead.
Voices—loud and commanding.
"President of Class 1-A, Tenya Iida!!"
"REPORTING FOR DUTY!!"
Dozens of silhouettes landed across the battlefield in a line of authority and power. The teachers had arrived. Too Late to stop the battle, but in time to end it.
Itami's breath hitched. He collapsed fully now, eyes half-lidded. Smoke hung in the air. His vision went dark, all he could see was himself standing over him. Clapping.
Clap.Clap.Clap "You've done Good".
The first thing Itami felt was stillness. Then pain.
A dull, steady throb crawling across his chest, shoulder, and the bandaged remains of his right arm. His eyelids were heavy, like they'd been sewn shut. It took everything just to crack one open.
White ceiling. Soft beeping. The sterile smell of antiseptic. A Hospital room. He groaned low, the sound barely escaping his throat.
"Well, well, look who's finally decided to rejoin the land of the living," a voice said smoothly—mocking, familiar.
Itami blinked again.
Akuma stood near the foot of the bed, arms crossed, smirking. His coat was slung lazily over one shoulder, and his usual firelight eyes glinted with something between amusement and relief.
"You look like shit," he added.
"Thanks." Itami rasped.
To his left, Yukiko sat in a chair pulled close to the bed. Her hand hovered just above his, hesitating to touch. "You've been out for a day."
"And snoring the whole time," Akuma added, kicking his feet up on the bed rail. "Loud, too. Nurses thought there was a bear in here."
"Don't be a jerk," Lyra snapped, swatting at his leg.
"Too late."
A small laugh bubbled from the right side of the room.
Itami turned his head slightly—and saw Lyra sitting on one of the hospital chairs, arms wrapped around her knees. She looked tired, like she hadn't slept, but there was a soft smile on her face. "He's been worried, you know," she said, nodding toward Akuma. "He wouldn't admit it, but he wouldn't leave."
"Had to make sure the corpse didn't comeback as a zombie" Akuma muttered. "You never know."
Itami coughed a laugh and immediately winced as pain shot through his ribs.
"Easy," Yukiko said, leaning forward to gently press a hand to his shoulder. "You pushed your body too far."
"You think?" Itami muttered, flashing a weak grin.
Across the room, Akuma leaned back in the chair, legs crossed, tablet in hand. "According to this," he said, scrolling with a flick of his finger, "a group of villains breached the facility, cut all comms, and tried to kill the number one hero?"
He looked up, eyebrows raised. "Then you got your arm broken by some thug?"
He then smirked. "Tell me you didn't get folded by a guy in a ski mask."
Itami's grin faltered. His eyes drifted up to the ceiling, distant. "No," he said, voice quieter now. "It wasn't just some thug."
Akuma blinked, posture straightening slightly.
"They came through a portal," Itami continued. "Black mist. Not the same as the same during the clan attack but... It felt the same."
The room stilled. The three of them looked at one another waiting for Itami to say more.
"They had a creature that was on their side... it wasn't normal. It didn't feel alive. Like it was made, not born. It was built to kill. And it almost did."
Akuma was quiet now, his smirk gone. He set the tablet down, studying Itami for a second longer than usual. "So, what—this attack was the same as the one from before? You think they're connected?"
Itami nodded. "I know they are. Something deep in my gut is telling me that it is."
Another pause. He looked at the three of them. "The trial would lead to him. I'm sure of it."
Yukiko let the silence settle before clearing her throat and shifting gears. "Right. But right now, your hurt. I'm still learning but I was sent here to heal you as part of my training."
She raised her hand towards Itami's chest as his cheeks turned a slight shade of red. "Wait wait wait"
In her hand emitted a gold light, blooming from her palm. "Hold still."
Itami blinked. "No. No light magic."
"You need it."
"I'm good."
"Your bone was split in two."
"Just a scratch."
"You're missing skin."
"That's fine. Builds character."
"It's unsanitary."
"I'm immune to infections."
Yukiko gave him a flat stare but still responded with a gentle tone. "That's not how the body works."
Akuma, now visibly amused, shook his head. "You know, you're definitely more talkative now. I remember when dragging a full sentence out of you was like pulling teeth."
Itami squinted at him. "Almost dying gives you perspective."
"Or brain damage."
Then Lyra used her strength to subdue Itami in a surprise attack shouting " Do it now! I'll hold him down!"
Yukiko quickly pressed her glowing palm to his chest before he could escape again. The golden aura pulsed, wrapping around his chest.
Itami flinched like she'd shocked him. "Too hot! Too hot! It feels like your burning me!"
"It's healing," she said her voice soft and comforting.
"I feel like a rotisserie chicken."
"Good. You'll be a well-seasoned one by the end." Lyra replied as Akuma laughed under his breath.
Yukiko stepped back, hands folded neatly in front of her. "There. At least now you'll be able to use your arm tomorrow."
Itami leaned back into the bed with a deep sigh. "I liked it better when I was unconscious."
"You were quieter, that's for sure," Akuma added.
"You all suck," Itami muttered.
Lyra grinned. "And yet, here we are."
The tension still lingered under the jokes, but it had softened. For now, at least, they were just friends again.
Authors Notes: What would you guys prefer? Two weekly Chapters or publish an entire arc at a time? Also thank you for reading and opinions are appreciated! Have a great day!