"I mean... there's no way it's a coincidence, right?" Ashido asked between mouthfuls of ramen.

Yamada had released Class 1A from their English lesson a few minutes early, meaning they'd been able to beat the lunch rush. The rest of the school filed in not long after the girls sat down with their food, claiming a few tables while the rest of their classmates finished up at the front of the queue, and now discussing the absence of their peers in the work study program.

"Can't be." Jiro added a pinch of salt to her tonkatsu sauce and mixed it in with her spoon. "Everyone getting called in and Mr. Aizawa being absent on the same day. Somethin's gotta be goin' down. Something big."

Hakagure stared at her plate, absentmindedly rolling her takoyami back and forth across her plate with her chopsticks. "Do you think they'll be okay?"

"Don't worry, I'm sure they're all fine." Jiro said, hoping she sounded more convincing than she felt. "Besides," she added, drizzling the tonkatsu on her lunch of deep-fried pork cutlet, "if Mr. Aizawa's with them, they're probably- hey!"

Ashido shrieked and the girls all jumped back in their seats as the small bowl of red sauce was knocked from Jiro's hands as Kaminari and Sero jostled past them. The bowl landed topside down with a clatter, dancing on its rim precariously closer to the edge of the table. The thin red sauce splattered all over the table, some running off the edge where a small puddle of red began to pool on the concrete of the floor. Steady droplets continued to fall, bleeding through the fabric of his mask. Still gasping for air after being sent reeling from a blow to the stomach that carried the force of what felt like a truck, he coughed up another mixture of saliva, phlegm, and blood that pooled at the tip of the beaklike mask.

Fortunately, the four arms protruding from his back prevented the second hit from being delivered too severely by the wall as he came to a crashing stop, small bits of concrete rubble raining down onto his seething figure.

This had gone beyond a minor annoyance, and he was no longer dealing with pest control, but an infestation. The only thing left to do was destroy the rot by burning down the whole house. Ignoring the sting of blood trickling into his eyes, Overhaul sent cracks rippling through the foundation. First, he would separate the diseased from trying to halt his cure, sanitizing any bacterium in sight while he was at it. The blindfolded newcomer would have his hands full trying to rescue his comrades, first from his attack, then from the collapsing tunnels, giving Chisaki more than enough time to be on his way, the product safely in tow. Then, once he was above ground, he would drop the city block on top of them.

Eri, the injured heroes, and the soon to be mass grave. This fight was over, Overhaul decided. A mere highschooler was the only one left to oppose him, and not even All Might could fight a battle on three fronts. True, Overhaul may not know this boy's quirk, but it hardly mattered. He clearly lacked the experience of the pros and his senior classmates, and certainly he would have incapacitated Chisaki with his first attack were he strong enough to do it. To Overhaul, it wasn't even in the realm of consideration that this boy was holding back.

But the truth was his seething ire had blinded him. An incessant irritation bubbled inside him until it boiled over, robbing him of the logic he normally would have approached this encounter with, instead now dictated by emotion. Had he the same composure as his fight with Lemillion, or even Deku, he would have noticed immediately how unlike the others Beacon was. He hadn't chased recklessly after them as Lemillion had, nor did he blindly throw himself in the fray like Deku.

What was perhaps most alarming was how quickly Beacon had given up the element of surprise. It was after all an invaluable tool. One which Lemillion, Deku, and even Sir Nighteye had all tried to take full advantage of. But Beacon readily traded it in exchange for a fuller understanding of the situation. Now he slowly moved to stand between Chisaki and his goal. He walked as if on a tightrope, every step measured, and carrying with it an understanding of the delicate balance he maintained between the danger before him and that within.

What mattered now was timing.

Identify and catch the red marbles before they hit the floor. His numbers were four and five. Four people he needed to account for. Five people Chisaki would be targeting. And one moment in time in which the burlap sack was released before the marbles began to fall. Catch them before they hit the floor. The ground beneath Eri rocketed upwards as a race of jagged rock sped towards the three downed heroes. Reaching out his hand, Sero quickly caught the bowl before it shattered to pieces.

"Watch where you're going!" Jiro said irritably, quickly taking a napkin to her leather jacket before the sauce had time to stain.

"Sorry, that's totally my bad." Sero apologized, quickly setting down his tray before dropping a pile of napkins on the still running sauce.

Ashido and Hakagure grumbled and checked themselves for any splotches as Kaminari joined Sero in cleaning the table and floor.

"So what do you think they're up to?" Kaminari asked, dropping into a seat at the table next to the girls.

"What do we think who's up to?" Hakagure asked.

"C'mon, you girls are talkin' about the work studies, aren't you?" Sero dropped into the booth at the next table. "Think they're all working together?"

"Hmm, I don't know." Oijiro said skeptically as he and the remainder of Class A joined the conversation. "I mean, Tsu and Uraraka are working together at Ryukyu's agency, but the rest of them are spread out, aren't they?"

"Midorya's at Sir Nighteye's, Kirishima is with Fat Gum, and Tokoyami is working for Hawks. Oh, and (L/N)'s back at The Watcher's." Sato counted on his fingers. "That's five different pros."

"And none of them are exactly close to each other." Shoji tacked on. "Still, it's a little strange that all of them are absent today. Usually, it's just two or three of them at a time."

"Hey, now that I think about it, I heard a rumor that the Big Three aren't at school today either."

"That's not too strange, considering they work alongside our classmates." Todoroki reasoned. "I'm more curious about how it coincides with Mr. Aizawa's absence."

"Jiro said the same thing." Hakagure pointed out. "What do you think Iida?"

"Well, it' a unique circumstance, that's certain." The class rep thoughtfully pinched his chin. "It's all a matter of statistics, really. Which scenario is more likely? That our teacher and classmates all happen to be working independently of one another, or that at least five different hero agencies from across Japan are cooperating? Normally I would be inclined to vote for the former, but Mr. Aizawa's absence makes me think the latter is the more likely of the two."

The rest of the class nodded and murmured their agreement.

"Must be somethin' really important. Probably really dangerous, too." Mineta said with a shiver. "They're probably being used as cannon fodder. I mean, they have to be pretty desperate to use first years, right?"

The rest of the table fell silent at his words. Mineta always did know how to ruin a conversation, but usually it was with his perverted remarks or inappropriate stares. He wasn't usually so, for lack of a better word, serious. The worst part of it all was how logical his reasoning was.

"There's no reason to think any of them will be hurt." Yaoyorozu broke the tense silence. "We don't even know if they're all together, and even if they are, it's probably safer that way." She said, hoping she sounded more confident than she felt as she tried to rationalize her own words. "Mr. Aizawa and the others will keep them safe. Plus, they'll be able to look out for each other, too."

"Yeah. Yeah, you're right." Ashido said meekly. "What are we even worrying about, you guys? They'll all be fine."

"Yeah, so long as (L/N) doesn't go all nuclear again." Kaminari said, fixing his hair as he absentmindedly checked his reflection in his spoon.

A bit of air escaped Mineta's nose in a muted snigger, and others raised their eyebrows or tilted their head from side to side in their silent assent. Bakugou and Todoroki glanced at each other out of the corner of their eyes before both furtively looking down the table at Yaoyorozu who had stopped eating and whose hand was now clenched into a fist around her chopsticks.

"With him around, I'd honestly be more worried about friendly fire, you know what I'm sayin'?" Denki let out a chuckle at his own joke that was cut short with a sharp crack.

The sound echoed throughout his entire body. To his best guess, Chisaki's punch had just broken two of his ribs. Beacon used the momentum of the blow to keep retreating, placing a barrier between himself and Overhaul which fell apart with the sound of shattering glass as the young head of the Hassaikai kept barreling towards him. Still flying backwards, Chisaki broke through two more of Beacon's walls before his hand shot towards his face. Swinging his arm upwards in front of his body, a blade of light severed Chisaki's hand just as the fingers made contact, saving him from being reduced to a mere bloodstain, though not quick enough to stop the beginning effects of Overhauls quirk.

Beacon didn't know how widespread or how deep it was, but he could feel hot blood oozing from the pores on his face, giving him the knowledge that it at least ran as deep as the dermis. He panicked a bit as Chisaki reassembled a new hand from the excess tissue growing out of his back, knowing another barrage was coming and that he couldn't give up any more ground. The fight had already dragged them too near to the girl and his downed comrades. He had to create some distance. Drive him back.

With a flex of his ten fingers, Beacon created a flashbang that momentarily stunned Chisaki, giving the younger man the half-second he needed to force him back, but it wouldn't last, he knew, not so long as he didn't have the room to breathe. This fight was like being trapped in a cage with a rabid animal. And that cage was liable to collapse at any moment. He would need to force this fight above ground. That way he could force Chisaki away from the others and keep him isolated. But in order to do that he needed to make sure no one was on the streets above him, and for that he needed more time. At least a few seconds.

In a twirl of his robes, (L/N) drilled into the ground, the tornado he had become sending chunks of the broken concrete floor towards Chisaki who crossed his arms in front of his face, breaking any debris that flew his way. The four arms of his back caught a few of the flying boulders and, with a snarl, he threw them at Lemillion, who was trying to limp towards Midorya and help him to his feet.

Sensing the projectiles, (L/N) halted his rotation and stretched out his hand, an arm of hard light extending past his fingertips which took to blow from the rocks. With a forceful shout, Beacon swung his arm forward, the massive hand he'd created mimicking his movements. Chisaki brought his own hands up. The attack was too large to dodge, so he was gambling on whatever this kid's quirk was still conforming to at least some basic laws of physics. And to his satisfaction, as his fingertips came into contact with the giant hand, it dissipated in a mist of shimmering dust.

Both combatants stood stunned for a moment as they reached the same conclusion. Overhaul laughed maniacally, racing towards Beacon who grit his teeth, knowing how much harder this fight had just become. Chisaki swiped both hands along the ground, sending more spikes racing towards Lemillion, Deku, and Sir Nighteye, leaving Beacon with no choice but to prioritize their safety over his own. Wrapping them in a cocoon of hard light, his focus shifted just in time to sense Chisaki leaping at him, like a cheetah pouncing on its prey.

Beacon leapt backwards, instinctively erecting another wall even though he knew it would do him no good now. Sure enough, the photons returned to their natural state the instant Chisaki touched them, and two of the larger arms grabbed (L/N) out of the air and threw him to the ground.

His back hit the ground hard, rattling his brain and knocking the wind from his lungs. Gasping for air, he felt a mixture of bile and blood rising in his throat which forced itself from his mouth with a painful cough.

Yaoyorozu gently cleared her throat before taking her napkin to her mouth, politely dabbing the fabric against her lips before folding it back in her lap. Oijiro and Shoji exchanged an apprehensive look, and Ashido stamped hard on Kaminari's foot as he opened his mouth to say something. Bakugou continued on with his lunch, but even he was silent as everyone lowered their heads toward their food, nervously watching Yaoyorozu out of the corners of their eyes, attentions fixated on the pair of chopsticks she had slammed on the table.

"I believe that's quite enough." she said quietly. Smoothing the fabric of the napkin over her legs, she reached for her chopsticks, prompting the others to resume their lunch, a few even attempting to strike up a new conversation, eager to change topics.

The noise around the table slowly climbed, but Yaoyorozu remained deaf to the world. Chopsticks still in hand, she paused, looking not at her food, but at the woven bark bracelet that sat on her wrist. She recalled the bandages she had seen on his fingers that day, when she had been too caught up in her fantasy romance to truly notice the delicate care with which he held her hand as he carefully slipped in onto her wrist, too distracted by the butterflies in her stomach to appreciate how his thumbs gently caressed the skin on the back of her hand, not realizing until now it had been the same pattern she herself had drawn on the back of his.

Looking back on it now, she recognized that it was a tender amount of care he always took when holding her hand, as if he was holding something priceless and fragile. Almost as if he were afraid it might break. A delicacy which she noticed, shared a familiarity in the way he handled her name. And finally, she understood, truly understood, what his answer meant when she asked who she was to him.

Momo.

She wiped away the dampness in her eyes with her sleeve, chuckling silently to herself. For someone so cynical, he certainly acted like a hopeless romantic. He said he didn't like fairytales, but the whole thing certainly felt like one to her. Her knight in shining armor, slaying dragons in her name. Almost quite literally, she realized. And the more she thought about it, the worse she felt. Because this realization brought with it a very real understanding of just how far he would go for her; just for the chance to hold her hand. And she, who claimed to love him, couldn't even find the courage to defend him from her friends.

"Actually," she paused for a moment, making sure she had everyone's attention before continuing, "I suppose I'm not entirely sure what is enough for you all. Because clearly, him risking his life for us certainly hasn't done anything to change your opinions of him." Yaoyorozu looked around the table at those individuals (L/N) had rescued at the USJ.

Beacon pressed desperately against Overhaul's mask, struggling to keep the villain at bay and stave off his lethal touch. His hand reached towards (L/N)'s face, the hero's death delayed only by the imperceptibly thin wall of light that separated them. The two were locked in a stalemate, Beacon rehardening the photons just as quickly as Chisaki destroyed them. Withdrawing his hand, Overhaul instead elected to throw two crashing blows with the arms protruding from his back, the force passing through the barrier and rattling (L/N)'s skull before two massive hands wrapped themselves around his neck and began squeezing the life from him.

Beacon clawed desperately at the gargantuan arms; hands aflame as he tried to sear through the flesh. But Chisaki kept repairing the damage before (L/N) could escape. Their battle may have reached an impasse, but that meant the other heroes were left undefended. Overhaul touched the floor, rearranging the cement once again.

"What more does he need to do? How many more of us does he need to save?" she asked earnestly as four globules of light sprung to life and lifted Deku, Lemillion, Sir Nighteye, and Eri away from the sea of jagged rock. When no one answered, Yaoyorozu looked around the table at her classmates who were unable to meet her pleading gaze. "Hasn't he taken enough bullets for us?"

There was a sickening crunch as Beacon felt his trachea collapse, having sacrificed his own defenses to save the others. He felt a suffocating warmth building in his throat as blood began to pool there, unable to escape his mouth. Still clawing at the hands gripped tightly around his neck, his breaths came to him in painful rasps as he began to drown in his own blood.

Beacon felt raindrops of drool and spit fall onto his face as saliva leaked through Chisaki's mask. His mouth was haning open in a rabid grin as he savored the desperation in the boy's frantic clawing. Sure, he could end it in an instant, but Overhaul wanted to enjoy this moment. The life would be choked out of him soon enough, and he wanted to revel in it. To savor the feeling of squeezing it out himself. Every. Last. Drop.