"HAH! HAH! HAH! HAH!"
The silence of the alley was broken by the sounds of heavy breathing.
Overhaul's body hit the ground in a wet collapse, limbs limp, torso still twitching from the aftershocks of a death it hadn't had time to process. Steam curled from the punctures tearing through his skin, blood pooling beneath him in sluggish spreads
Crouched in a pool of his own blood, Yuta's mangled chest heaved irregularly as he stared at Overhaul's corpse. The Sharingan in Yuta's eyes faded.
What came in its place was a nerve wracking pain, deep exhaustion, and the knowledge that he had just survived the most dangerous encounter of his life.
'I .. did it.' The thought wore in.
Kai Chisaki was history, and he had been the one to achieve it. Though arguably not a reason to celebrate, his survival of what should have been certain death at the hands of someone far stronger than him certainly was.
His condition however, said otherwise.
".. PUFF!"
Blood spilled from his lips. He tried to stand and failed as his legs lost all strength, causing him to support himself with his skeletal arms to avoid falling.
Examining his body state, his bloody features turned grim. First, Overhaul, then this. 'It's a double miracle I'm still alive.' That, unfortunately wouldn't last long. His quirk had already done the impossible by surviving deconstruction.
The burst of Chakra that allowed him to use the Mangekyo Sharingan was a feat of nigh equal weight, though he probably had Overhaul to thank for that.
Expecting it to sustain him for long without any assistance was a pipe dream. He needed a hospital, fast.
However, reality dictated that he couldn't even walk.
Forget about recovering from this, he would die here if no one found him.
Even if he didn't, that was just one problem from a whole bag. There was also Eri .. Yuta's eyes widened. 'Where's Eri...'
"Eri…"
The name left his cracked lips in a whisper, barely audible even to himself. His blurry eyes swept the alley, panic stirring through the haze of pain as he searched for any sign of her small form.
He found her.
Ten meters away. Crumpled on the ground, teary eyes staring at him unblinkingly.
However,
The sight of someone else caused a tremor to run down his spine.
Not from pain this time, but from a cold realization that despite Overhaul's death, he wasn't alone.
Yuta's gaze dragged upward. There, behind Eri, half-shrouded by the darkness near the wall, stood Rappa.
Arms crossed, eyes staring with an unnerving intensity.
He hadn't moved since Overhaul fell. He simply watched.
He had watched everything. Yuta's throat tightened. During the fight, he'd been aware—barely—that Rappa was still a problem, still conscious.
But after killing Overhaul, after the shock and the pain slammed into him all at once… Rappa had slipped to the edges of his awareness. Overshadowed by imminent death.
Now, with nothing left in him but willpower and shredded muscle fibers, the weight of Rappa's presence hit him fully.
If Rappa wanted revenge for his fallen boss…
If he wanted to finish what Overhaul started…
Yuta couldn't even lift an arm to defend himself.
Instinctively, Yuta activated the Sharingan, or tried to, only to realize that he was well out of chakra.
His trembling body staggered even more as blood flowed. Just then .."…She's fine."
Rappa finally spoke. His voice was coarse, carrying a strange mix of annoyance and respect.
He stepped forward, an action that made Yuta tense. However, Rappa paid him no heed. When he reached Overhaul's corpse, he nudged it with his boot, exhaling through his nose.
"Boss?"
No answer. The only sound was the fading drip of blood, tapping rhythmically against concrete. He wasn't a doctor, but he'd seen enough broken bodies to know what a corpse looked like. Overhaul—was gone.
"You really did it," he muttered. "The bastard's dead."
He laughed.
"Hah… kid, you've got stones."
Yuta swallowed, tasting iron. He tried to stand again, and failed.
Rappa watched him struggle for a moment… then shook his head.
"Don't bother. You're done. Anyone can see that."
He crouched beside Yuta, studying the mangled mess of bone and blood that used to be a functional body. "Honestly… it's a miracle you're still breathing."
He had been in a lot of fighting rings, and seen people get life threatening injuries. Rappa had never cared about gore. Fighting men, breaking men, being broken himself — none of it bothered him. But this went beyond anything he'd ever seen
'Hell of a kid.'
Rappa thought, genuinely impressed.
He turned back to Overhaul's body, crouching beside it with a tight frown. There was no rage in him—Rappa was a man who lived purely for the thrill of battle, violence and bloodshed. He fought men to test them, to prove strength, not to avenge philosophy.
His following of Overhaul was for one reason only. He had beaten him in one on one combat. Loyalty?
That wouldn't mean as much to him as a good fight would. Nevertheless, Overhaul had been his boss and was stronger than him.
Dying like this… was unacceptable.
He stood, cracking his neck once. "Guess that makes the score one-one," he said quietly, voice steady. "Damn shame you won't get the rematch."
He stepped back, rolling his shoulders.
Now came the question of what to do with the kid.
Rappa glanced at Yuta's deteriorating form, then at Eri standing frozen nearby. The kid had guts. Real guts. The kind Rappa respected.
'Shame.'
He scooped Yuta up—carefully this time, mindful of the flesh threatening to tear completely. The kid's breathing was shallow. Fading.
"Alright, kid. Let's—"
WEEOO WEEOO WEEOO
Sirens.
Distant, but closing fast.
Rappa's head snapped toward the alley entrance. Red and blue lights flickered against the far wall.
"Tch."
He set Yuta back down—not roughly, but not gently either. There wasn't time for gentle.
"Guess that's my cue."
Eri's eyes went wide. "W-wait—"
"Can't stick around, kid." Rappa straightened, already backing toward the opposite exit. "Heroes show up, they see me with Overhaul's corpse and a dying brat? That's a conversation I'm not having."
He jerked his thumb toward the approaching sirens. "They'll patch him up. Probably."
"But—"
"You want him to live? Stay with him. Scream when they get close. Make noise. They'll find you."
With that, Rappa turned and bolted into the shadows, his heavy footsteps fading into the maze of backstreets.
Eri stood frozen for a heartbeat.
Then she looked down at Yuta.
He wasn't moving anymore. His chest barely rose.
Blood pooled around him like a crimson halo.
"No…"
Her legs moved on their own.
She stumbled forward, dropping to her knees beside him, hands hovering uselessly over his mangled body. She didn't know where to touch. Didn't know what to do.
"N-no, no, no…"
The sirens grew louder.
Yuta's eyelids fluttered. His lips moved, but no sound came out.
"Please…" Eri's voice cracked. "Please don't die…"
Her quirk pulsed—uncontrolled, panicked—rippling outward in invisible waves.
"You… you saved me…" Tears streamed down her face. "You can't… you can't just…"
Eri's small hands gripped the tattered remains of Yuta's shirt.
"HELP!" she screamed, "SOMEBODY HELP!"
Yuta's consciousness flickered.
The last thing he saw before darkness claimed him completely was Eri's tear-streaked face, lit by flashing red and blue.
Then—
Nothing.
___
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