The sounds of the runaway Dark Shadow suddenly ceased, replaced by the rattling of engines and the whirring of rotors cutting through the air. The wind slipped between the trees, losing force as it went deeper and deeper.
Incandescent lights intended to illuminate the path only managed to darken the shadows even more, branches shook and fell from the canopies, resonating louder than ever in Tetsumaru's ears.
The adrenaline seemed to have vanished, the disinterest was shaken off, and the slight feeling of discomfort turned into something indescribable, bitter, paralyzing, cold.
A void formed in Tetsumaru's stomach, his chest sank and his blood ran cold, his usually expressionless, bored eyes flashed with an incongruous mix of emotions that his soul, or half-soul, shouldn't have felt so intensely.
He couldn't call it sadness, nor anger. There was no justification for feeling such things. No, it was different, something else that also generated those emotions in him, but diluted in...
His lips dried, his breathing became heavy. He ignored the figure that passed over their heads at great speed, ignored the child who was sobbing to one side, huddled at the base of a tree, trembling, scared, stained with blood.
Tetsumaru walked with slow steps, his eyes empty as the machine lights obscured the features of a victim of his negligence.
Ojiro Mashirao lay dead at his feet, bled out from gunshot wounds to his abdomen.
—T-Tetsumaru!?— Mineta Minoru called out with a trembling voice and a touch of hope in his tone. —Tetsumaru, help Ojiro!
But the shinobi didn't move from his spot. He couldn't.
His mind had momentarily frozen, the feeling of guilt erupted inside him like a tidal wave, spilling out and obstructing any logical response that his nature as an embodiment, as a reincarnated being, as a human from a world whose valuation of this world never went beyond a mediocre story he couldn't enjoy, could offer the frightened child.
—Hey, Tetsumaru, hurry up!— Mineta called again with clenched fists and tears clouding his vision, but Tetsumaru still didn't respond.
The guilt wouldn't leave him. He, who had the information, however vague it was, did nothing. He, who had the power to protect those who couldn't do it on their own, hid it.
He, someone who supposedly came to this world to be a better person, never bothered to consider those around him as people.
And now one of them, not a character, not a drawing on paper, a real person, a child, had died at a time and place where he shouldn't have.
It was his intervention, his arrival and half-hearted participation in this world, in this "story," that degenerated into the current situation. It was his inaction, his disinterest, and the dehumanization he did of everyone who wasn't him and his other half that ended up taking a life that didn't deserve it.
The sand moved, enveloping Ojiro's body and lifting it from the ground with extreme care. Tetsumaru turned to Mineta, who had gotten up from his spot and was looking at him intently, hoping for some miracle that he couldn't offer.
—Let's go— Tetsumaru said, offering a hand to the boy. Mineta's face went through a turmoil of emotions, but in the end, he lowered his head and took the hand offered to him, seeking solace in the company of someone he could well see as an adult.
Tetsumaru let out a silent sigh, lifting them into the air and setting course towards the camp, where the helicopters were already about to arrive.
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Aizawa observed the surroundings with a severe expression, while his boot rested on the head of one of the few villains they managed to subdue in this disaster... A disaster that he, Nezu, and UA allowed.
Barely competent officers in first aid attended to his students, who were gradually gathering at the camp.
Many suffered minor injuries, and others were in critical condition.
One of the helicopters had already taken off, carrying the only paramedics in the area along with Kamakiri Togaru, Setsuna Tokage, and Tenya Iida, who were the ones most urgently needing attention.
—Grrr, let me go, Eraser Head!— the lizard-like villain growled, his limbs completely tied by the Hero's scarf.
Aizawa considerably increased the weight on the foot that was on the villain's head, not bothering to give him a look or a word. He wasn't in the mood for that.
Next to Spinner, an agitated Himiko Toga tried to escape, cursing Kurogiri under her breath for abandoning her in this hole.
Suddenly, an intense bloodlust fell upon both villains, making them shiver and pale due to its aggressiveness. Even Aizawa tensed, instinctively raising his guard and watching as some officers moved aside, letting a friend of his pass through.
Kan Sekijirō, the Pro Hero Vlad King and teacher of class 1-B, advanced with a rigid expression, bloodshot eyes, and a bundle of rags in his arms, from which blood was dripping.
The intensity of his anger enveloped Toga and Spinner, forcing them to hold their breath and remain completely still.
Aizawa's heart sank. His eyes did not leave the bundle his friend and colleague was carrying.
Kan stopped directly in front of Aizawa, staring intently at the villains on the ground. The officers and many of the students also paid attention to what was happening, the most astute among them widening their eyes and gasping in disbelief.
—Kan...— Aizawa called in a low tone. Kan Sekijirō took a deep breath, but the murderous intent did not vanish; instead, it sharpened.
—Tsunotori Pony has been killed. My student, a child with family, with dreams and hopes, lost her life today. This is the result of your actions and decisions— the Hero stated with teary eyes, his words touching not only the villains but everyone who heard.
Words that struck the students like a slap, giving them a cruel reminder of reality.
Words that afflicted Kan and Aizawa themselves, as they were the main people responsible for the young life that had just been lost on their watch. But it didn't end there.
—Hey, I told you not to run!— an somewhat irritated male voice was heard, and a winged figure quickly flew over the trees, landing in front of a certain reddish-brown haired kunoichi and blocking her path.
—Do you think you can attack a Pro Hero and then flee the scene as if nothing happened, brat!?— Hawks spat with trembling legs and gritted teeth, still not recovered from the girl's assault.
But Aizawa ignored whatever had happened between his student and the Hero, more focused on Mei's empty expression and the direction she was looking.
He had a bad feeling. Slowly, he moved his eyes and found a familiar cloud of sand descending with another group of students. But their expressions were not those of someone who had won a fight.
Bakugo was deadly serious and silent, while Midoriya, Uraraka, and others were audibly sobbing.
Aizawa saw Tetsumaru leave the sand platform with a bundle of sand in his arms, in a similar way to how Vlad had arrived a moment ago. A sigh of defeat escaped the lips of the Hero and teacher of class 1-A.
The atmosphere only became more depressing. Even Hawks fell silent and dropped his antics upon noticing that it was neither the time nor the place.
The trip to the camp was a resounding failure for Aizawa and Kan, for Tetsumaru and Mei, for the students, for UA, and for the Pro Heroes.
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Well, we are on par with the author~