Uproar // Villain Deku // Book 2

Chapter 9: Perfect.

Izumi Yagi's P.O.V

An immense pain overtook my senses as I attempted to breathe, walk, run, or use One For All — even somewhat. I brought my fingertips to my school cardigan and opened it slightly so that I could gaze upon my pained chest.

"Oh my God," I spoke aloud.

My feet came to a halt as I stopped dead in my tracks — gazing fearfully at my chest. I quickly closed my cardigan once more and began walking as far from the school as I could. I decided it would probably be for the best that I didn't use my quirk — at least until I knew what it was that was inflicting so much pain upon me. I couldn't have been sure of whether or not using my quirk would amplify the pain at all.

I needed to talk with someone. Someone who had answers, or someone who could have helped me. I couldn't talk with my mother — this much was obvious from her newfound admiration towards my brother — and I had already travelled quite far from the school, so I couldn't head back to ask Recovery Girl about the pain.

Glancing around and taking in my surroundings, I realized that I didn't recognize anything. The street signs were unfamiliar; the trees were unfamiliar; the businesses, cafes, stores — they were all different.

I walked about and tried to navigate my surroundings as best as I could, but one thought kept creeping into my mind — pulsating as if it were its own heartbeat.

I was lost.

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Izuku Yagi's P.O.V

I paced about in my room for what felt like days but were, in reality, only a few hours as I stared at the clock on my wall.

"Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock." The clock repeated every second.

The second hands moved slowly as the unwavering sound continued — bouncing about in my brain until all I could hear were the slow-sounding motions that the clock made. I studied the clock — having nothing better to do. Glaring and Glaring, I watched, analyzed, and dissected each crevasse, crack and imperfection the object housed until I could picture the black and white wall clock perfectly in my mind.

It was a relatively cool Friday. The sun was high; however, it was covered by a grey-hued cloud — making the metaphorical atmosphere and mood seem dreary and depressing. I didn't mind it though. It made no difference to me how cold or dark it was, so long as my plans weren't affected.

Hado seemed to be the most unbiased of the League. Her robotic and seemingly blank mind would have served as a perfect mould for my adjudicator; although, I needed to be sure. I couldn't just ask anyone to join me in my crusade as my judge, I needed to be completely sure of whom I was selecting for my cleansing — as whoever it was that I chose would most likely discover the secrets I kept from my friends.

Before a person is murdered, you discover their true nature; their real self — the one they keep buried just beneath the surface. Whatever mask a person is wearing immediately drops when they're faced with inevitable death. The same is true for someone in the opposite position. When you gaze into the eyes of a murderer, or someone who's about to take a life, you get a glimpse of their lust for blood. You see a sliver of their true nature; you understand their secrets. This was my reason for considering everyone, not solely my immediate friends.

If I chose the wrong person, then I'd be exposed. My true self would see the light of day; my true intentions would be revealed; my true thoughts would be weeded out and thrown into the spotlight. I didn't know what would come of that, because even I didn't know my true intentions, nor did I know my true thoughts — let alone know my true self. All that I knew was everyone hid something from someone, so I must have been doing the same.