ShuraZero
patreon
Chapter 63: A Hero’s Legacy
🕑 Added 2025-10-03 14:42:30 +0000 UTCThe U.A. infirmary had been transformed into a war room. Izuku Midoriya, propped up against a pair of pillows with his torso and one arm bandaged, refused to rest. His sharp, analytical eyes were fixed on the large monitor Recovery Girl had reluctantly allowed them to use. Beside him, Ochako and Toru sat in chairs, leaning forward with the same intensity, their own victories momentarily forgotten. They were the command center, the support team for their classmate in the arena.
“AND NOW, FOR THE FIRST SEMIFINAL MATCH OF THE U.A. SPORTS FESTIVAL!!” Present Mic's voice boomed from the monitor. “IN ONE CORNER, THE WOMAN WHOSE MIND IS AN ARSENAL, THE STRATEGIST WHO LEFT US SPEECHLESS, MOMO YAOYOROZU! AND IN THE OTHER CORNER, THE MAN WHOSE SPEED DEFIES SOUND, TENYA IIDA!”
“This is going to be tough,” Ochako said, nervously biting her lip. “They're both so fast and smart. Iida will try to end it in the first second with his speed. If he gets to her, it's over.”
“But Momo-chan has a plan!” Toru replied, her optimism a buoy in the sea of tension. “She always has a plan! Right, Izuku-kun?”
Izuku didn't take his eyes off the screen, where Momo and Iida faced each other from opposite ends of the ring.
“Yeah,” he answered, his voice calm and confident, like a coach confident in his athlete's preparation. “Iida is pure, straight-line speed. He's a missile. And as we know, you can't stop a missile head-on, but you can make it miss its target. Momo isn't going to fight him. She's going to fight the ring. Watch.”
Meanwhile, the sunset stained the skies of Hosu City orange, its lights beginning to flicker to life, reflecting in the puddles from a recent rain. On the rooftops, a figure in silver armor and a finned helmet moved with incredible speed, the engines in his boots leaving a trail of steam.
“This is Ingenium,” the hero Tensei Iida said into his communicator, his voice calm and professional. “I have him cornered in the south district, near alley 4-2. He appears to be the one responsible for the attacks on heroes these past few weeks. Moving in to intercept and apprehend.”
With a final boost, he leaped from the roof and landed with a metallic clang at the entrance of a dead-end alley, cutting off a tall, gaunt figure who had his back to him. The figure froze.
“It's over, villain,” Ingenium said, taking a combat stance. “You've messed with the wrong heroes in the wrong city. Surrender now.”
The figure turned slowly. He wore rags, a makeshift mask that only revealed a pair of crazed eyes, and a long, tattered red scarf. His body was a walking arsenal of bladed weapons: knives, daggers, and a long, notched katana strapped to his back. It was the Hero Killer: Stain.
“Another fake,” Stain hissed, his voice a reptilian whisper full of contempt. “You run fast, but toward what? Fame? Money? Sponsorship deals? Society is plagued with empty idols like you who have forgotten the true meaning of the word ‘hero.’”
“You don't know a thing about me,” Ingenium retorted, his engines beginning to roar. “I'm just a hero doing my duty!”
“The only true hero is All Might,” Stain declared, drawing a cruel-looking knife. “The rest of you are just parasites playing dress-up. And I am the purge this society needs.”
“LET THE MATCH BEGIN!!” Present Mic’s voice roared, pulling the action back to the arena.
Iida didn't waste a tenth of a second. His engines roared and he shot forward, a silver bullet aimed directly at Momo. His plan was simple and effective: use his overwhelming speed to push her out of the ring before she had time to create anything.
But Momo was ready. She didn't create a shield. She didn't create a weapon. With absolute calm, she slammed both hands on the ground. A dozen enormous Roman-style shields, identical to the ones she used against Tokoyami, erupted from the concrete floor in a random pattern, creating an instant labyrinth.
“YAOYOROZU TRANSFORMS THE RING INTO A MAZE!!” Present Mic shouted. “IIDA'S SPEED IS USELESS IF HE DOESN'T HAVE A STRAIGHT LINE!”
Forced to slow down, Iida began to navigate the maze, his boots screeching as he made sharp turns.
In the infirmary, Izuku smiled. “See? She's not creating walls; she's creating a trajectory calculation problem. Every second Iida hesitates on which way to go, every moment he has to process the new environment, is a second Momo gains to prepare her next move.”
The fight in the alley was short and brutal. Ingenium attacked, his legs pumping like pistons, unleashing a series of high-speed kicks—blows that could dent steel. Stain didn't try to block them. He moved. He was unnaturally agile, his body twisting and contorting in impossible ways, dodging each kick by millimeters. He used the environment to his advantage, bouncing off walls, disappearing into the shadows.
“Stop hiding and fight!” Ingenium growled in frustration.
“I'm not hiding,” Stain hissed from a fire escape above him. “I'm judging you. And I find you… wanting.”
He launched himself from above. Ingenium raised an arm to block, his armor braced for the impact. But Stain didn't aim for the armor. At the last second, he twisted his body and the tip of his blade traced a thin line across the exposed part of Ingenium's arm, just above the gauntlet. A single drop of blood welled up.
Ingenium stopped in his tracks. He tried to throw another kick, but his legs wouldn't respond. A paralyzing chill spread through his body.
“What…?!” he gasped, falling to his knees. “I can't move!”
Stain landed softly in front of him and, with an obscene gesture, licked the drop of blood from his blade.
“My Quirk: Bloodcurdle,” he explained, his voice dripping with venom. “Depending on your blood type, I can paralyze you completely. And you, ‘hero,’ happen to be a very, very common type.”
He approached slowly, raising his long katana. “Don't worry. I won't kill you. I'll just make sure you never tarnish the name of ‘hero’ again.”
“Iida's getting frustrated!” said Ochako, her eyes glued to the monitor. “He's trapped!”
In the arena, Iida, tired of navigating the maze, made a decision.
“The games are over, Yaoyorozu-san!”
“There it is! His trump card!” Toru shouted.
“RECIPRO BURST!”
With a roar from his overclocked engines, Iida became a blur. He was no longer navigating the maze; he was tearing through it. He blasted through the titanium shields as if they were paper, a trail of destruction aimed directly at Momo, who stood on the other side of the ring.
But while he had been destroying, she had been creating.
Just as Iida broke through the last line of defense, ready for the final tackle, he discovered she wasn't alone. She was surrounded by a circle of miniature catapults, all loaded and aimed at him. And on the ground in front of her was a layer of sticky, fast-drying liquid.
It was a trap within a trap.
Iida, moving at a speed that made it impossible to change course, slammed into the sticky substance. His feet were instantly caught. And in that moment of immobility, Momo sprang her final trap. The catapults fired in unison, launching not rocks, but heavy, adhesive capture nets that enveloped him completely.
He fell to the ground, utterly immobilized.
“Contestant Tenya Iida has been immobilized! The winner, and first finalist, is Momo Yaoyorozu!”
Elation erupted in the infirmary.
“YES!! SHE DID IT!” Toru yelled, jumping out of her chair.
“It was a perfect plan!” Ochako added, hugging Toru. “She used his speed against him!”
Izuku smiled, a deep, quiet pride filling his chest. She did it. She did it all herself.
A few minutes later, Momo, radiant and euphoric from her victory, arrived at the infirmary to celebrate with her friends. Right behind her came Iida, his face serious in defeat, but his attitude was honorable and without resentment.
“Yaoyorozu-san, congratulations,” he said, bowing. “Your strategy was flawless. You completely outplayed me. And Midoriya-kun, I'm glad to see you're awake and conscious.”
“Thanks, Iida-kun. You fought incredibly,” Izuku replied.
Just at that moment of camaraderie and mutual respect, Iida's phone rang. His face lit up.
“Excuse me! It must be my mother! She must have seen the match!”
He stepped away to answer, a proud smile on his face. “Mom! Yes, I just finished. No, unfortunately, I didn't win, but…”
His expression changed. The smile vanished, replaced by confusion.
“What? What's wrong? Why are you crying?”
And then, the confusion gave way to absolute horror. His eyes widened, and the color drained from his face.
“No… no… Tensei?”
The phone slipped from his hand, clattering to the floor. He fell to his knees, his body trembling violently.
“Iida-kun?” Ochako asked, approaching with concern.
He didn't answer. He just stared into space, his eyes filled with an anguish that chilled everyone in the room to the bone.
“Tensei…” he whispered, his voice broken, a sound of pure agony. “My brother… he was attacked… a villain… in Hosu… he's… he's seriously injured…”
The joy of the festival, the euphoria of victory, it all vanished in an instant, replaced by the raw, cold, and brutal reality.
In the dark, rainy alley in Hosu, Stain stood over the defeated and bleeding body of Ingenium. He wiped the blood from his katana on a piece of cloth. Behind him, a portal of purple mist swirled open in silence. Kurogiri emerged, his yellow eyes glowing in the darkness.
“Hero Killer: Stain. Impressive, as always.”
Stain spun around, his sword ready, his stance like a snake ready to strike. “Who are you?”
“An admirer,” Kurogiri replied, his voice a polite and sinister murmur. “And a recruiter. My master, Tomura Shigaraki, believes we share similar goals: purging this society of its false idols and hypocritical heroes. We would like to propose an alliance.”
