Shigaraki’s lips tore open, slow and deliberate—like skin splitting under a dull blade.
"That kick of yours—was that supposed to be hope?"
His crimson eyes pulsed, drinking in what little light remained.
"Then why didn’t I die… in that capsule beneath Jaku Hospital?"
Her pupils shrank to pinpricks. The air froze in her lungs.
The moment that voice pierced her skull, memory detonated—
Frail hand slamming down on the button.
Five Near High-Ends—teeth bared, claws reaching—ripping into her merciless.
Left arm twisted—bones snapping with a sickening crunch.
A final Luna Arc—her blood-slick body barely holding together.
Tentacle piercing through her right leg. Body thrown aside like trash.
Capsule—cracked, but not broken.
And then—
Comrades, collapsing one by one, bodies breaking apart into dust.
Shigaraki’s grin widened, a ragged breath slipping through the cracks of his dry lips.
“If only you’d hit a little harder…”
“All those heroes—you might’ve saved them.”
Mirko’s fingers quivered, cold sweat tracing her jaw. The air vibrated—the boundary between reality and memory crumbling. The incense was gone, swallowed by the stench of rust and old blood.
Each word carved into her skull, dragging her breath into uneven gasps.
Shigaraki tilted his head, his grin warping like cracked porcelain. Veins throbbed around his bloodshot eyes as they fixed on her.
“My, my…”
His grin widened slowly, a brittle laugh leaking out.
“You wrapped that mangled arm in your perfect white hair… kept fighting anyway."
His gaze slid downward, tracing her legs.
“That right leg—you could’ve saved it. Why carve it off yourself?”
His voice dropped lower—closer. Right against her ear.
“Was it guilt? Splitting your own Quirk in half, just so your conscience could rest?”
Mirko’s shoulders trembled. Her fists tightened, blood seeping between her knuckles where her nails dug in.
She forced her lips apart—voice raw.
“Shut… up…!”
But the mockery didn’t stop.
“Left arm—metal. Right leg—metal. You trained anyway, didn’t you?”
His words slid under her skin like a scalpel.
“You whispered it every night.”
‘I’ll crush Shigaraki’s skull myself.’
Shigaraki’s grin cracked wider—skin stretching, teeth glinting. Dry, ragged laughter leaked through the cracks.
And then—
Gravity inverted.
The world flipped. The floor dropped away.
Mirko’s vision fell into darkness—then white-hot light exploded, flooding everything.
Above U.A., the blue was gone—replaced by a fleshy, writhing horizon of thousands of hands.
Within it, she hung upside down in midair, bound by those very hands.
Her prosthetic arm was already shattered—metal fragments raining into the abyss. Vile fingers coiled around her body, tightening like iron chains, crushing her ribs.
She saw herself suspended, thrashing like prey caught in a grotesque spider’s web. White hair lashed through the air as she snapped her jaw shut. She sank her teeth into the thick, dusty finger that bound her neck. The taste of dry rot and decay flooded her mouth.
“You…”
Her face twisted—teeth bared—as an animal cry ripped from her throat.
“I should’ve killed you then!!”
And Shigaraki raised her high—the sea of hands surging like a wave beneath him.
His lips split past human limits.
“Ha—ha—ha—ha—ha—ha—ha!!”
His laughter fractured the air, lightning crawling through her mind.
“Your struggle—your screams—I can still hear them, Rabbit!”
Every drop of her blood surged upward, defying gravity. Cold sweat ran down her forehead.
And then—
The room blinked
The counseling room door creaked open. Shiozaki stepped in, carrying a tray entwined with gentle green vines.
“It’s soothing for the nerves—something to help you breathe a little easier.”
The porcelain cup touched the table with a soft clink.
When Shiozaki looked up, she froze.
Mirko’s gaze hung in the air, fixed on something that wasn’t there.
“Mirko?”
Her voice faltered. The stillness told her at once—something was wrong.
“Mirko? …Rumi, what’s wrong?”
She called again, careful—then sharper.
But there was no answer.
Mirko’s pupils were blown wide—black voids swallowing her irises whole. Her breathing hitched, ragged.
“Rumi—can you hear me? Say something.”
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
But to Mirko’s ears—nothing.
The world had gone mute. Only her lips moved, soundless.
“If only… I’d been one hop faster…”
Shiozaki’s eyes widened. “No… it can’t be…”
Mirko’s body convulsed—sharp, uncontrollable.
Crash—!
The teacup slipped and shattered across the floor. Shards of porcelain skittered like bone fragments.
Shiozaki lunged forward, grabbing Mirko by both shoulders.
“Mirko! Rumi!”
Her hands met muscle as hard and cold as steel. Mirko wasn’t just unmoving—she was locked in a rigor of terror.
Shiozaki tried to catch Mirko’s eyes—nothing. No focus. No return.
“Shigaraki is dead! What you’re seeing—it isn’t real! Whatever he says—don’t listen!”
Her shout rang through the room. But to Mirko, it sounded miles away. Like a scream from underwater.
Her breath came in short, broken gasps. Her lips trembled faintly, but no sound escaped. Mirko’s eyes remained vacant, their focus lost in emptiness.
Shiozaki’s voice shook with pleading, her fingers digging into Mirko’s arms.
“You defeated Shigaraki and All For One that day—you saved the world!!”
But the air split.
— …Lie.
A dry, rasping laugh scraped inside Mirko’s ear, drowning out Shiozaki’s plea.
— It’s a lie.
Cold, rotting breath brushed her neck.
— You kicked me.
A twisted smile bloomed in the dark.
— While your arm sank into the mouth that had grown out of my flesh.
Mirko’s breath hitched. Her body stiffened, every muscle taut.
— You spun your body with all your strength…
A hand slid into the edge of her vision—slick with dark blood. Fingertips cracked, each fracture threaded with pulsing red veins. It moved slowly, closing around Mirko’s right arm.
—…That’s how your arm was torn off.
SNAP.
Blood spattered. Mirko’s eyes went wide. Her ears trembled violently.
In that instant—something inside her arm gave way.
Flesh tore. Muscles twisted apart like wet clay. Fire ran through every nerve ending, boiling her blood.
Pain surged from her fingers to her arm, from her arm to her shoulder, then washed through her entire body like a tidal wave of lava. The metallic stench of blood filled her nose—choking her, drowning her.
A scream rose to her throat—then broke into a jagged gasp.
Mirko’s body shook in spasms. She clutched her right arm—an arm still whole, yet severed in her mind.
Shiozaki was there in an instant, hands on Mirko’s shoulders.
“Rumi! Look at me!”
But Mirko’s eyes had already drifted beyond reality, fixed on a stump that wasn’t there. Her rabbit ears stood rigid. Tips quivered, though no wind stirred the air.
— When you lunged like a rabbit—left leg, then that metal one—your Luna Rush hit hard.
Shigaraki’s voice cracked like shattered glass.
— I was honestly impressed.
A blood-tinged chuckle leaked through dry lips.
—But…
His fingers clenched the empty air. Veins bulged across the back of his hand, pulsing grotesquely.
— My body reached its ideal form.
With every breath, a foul wind—thick with the scent of blood—swept through the room.
— One swat. That was all it took.
His voice rose—high, mocking.
— Your body snagged in the trees—broken, limbless—flapping like torn laundry!
— Ahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!!!
Mirko’s face drained, cold as ash.
— You fell without doing a thing… With only one leg left…
— Mirko, no…
Usagiyama Rumi
That name, each letter of it, drove into her consciousness like a blade. Her rabbit ears stood on end, and a thin, piercing ring exploded in her head.
The boundary between reality and illusion shattered. Air warped, and Mirko’s heartbeat went wild, thrashing inside her chest.
“Rumi!”
Shiozaki lunged across the chair, gripping Mirko’s shoulders. Her voice cracked.
“Mirko! Rumi! Look at me!”
Green vines rose from the floor, coiling around Mirko’s arms—gentle, restraining.
“Ignore Shigaraki! His words are nothing but deceit!”
A low, cold whisper slipped into the air.
—Deceit? Yes. You were deceived.
Thin as wire, it scraped across her skull.
—Edgeshot told you to ‘struggle’, and Best Jeanist told you to ‘thrash and crawl’… you believed them—and dove straight in.
Faint breath, tinged with laughter.
—If you’d just stayed still, you could’ve kept your right arm.
Mirko’s breathing grew rough. Her fingertips shook, veins rising beneath her skin.
—They threw you metal… then swept your pain under the carpet.
Cold metal, phantom heat, surgical lights—everything rushed back at once.
—You lied to yourself, just to keep the pain from consuming you.
‘If you’re going to die, get the job done first.’
‘A Hero never ever gives up.’
‘Everyone dies when their time comes. I’ll keep my promise to win.’
‘I won’t die with regret.’
The rest—those vows, those prayers—mockery ground them into dust.
—…But you…
A shapeless smile spread through ragged breath.
—…didn’t finish it, didn’t win… didn’t even manage to die…
Cold breath grazed her ear.
—Regretting it… aren’t you?
The words hit like a verdict.
Mirko’s heart slammed—one violent thud. Her vision bleached white. Breath caught in jagged bursts. Her rabbit ears snapped upright—every tremor in the air turning to pain. Her body spasmed in rejection.
“Mirko! Snap out of it!”
Shiozaki’s vines tightened, wrapping Mirko’s body to restrain her.
In an instant—the air split.
The green vines dissolved into pale, rotting flesh.
And there it was again, burning into her retinas—
The Coffin in the Sky.
It floated under a leaden gray sky, just as it had that day. Metal rained down. Structures collapsed. Blood and smoke thickened the air.
At the center—hands tangled like threads. They spread outward, multiplying, swallowing everything.
Wet, cold flesh surged forward and wrapped around her arms and legs—then her neck, her chest. Bones creaked under the pressure. Clouded nails dug beneath her skin, crushing nerves until muscle screamed.
The sensation of that day—the sticky warmth of blood, the crushing weight—returned in full.
And then—
“Ha—ha—ha—! Just the same as before, Rabbit Hero!—You can’t do a damn thing but thrash!!”
That laughter shredded her eardrums. Mirko’s mind shattered again.
“Uaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh!!!”
With a roar that split the room, crimson light flared. They were Mirko’s eyes—yet for one instant, Shigaraki stared back.
Vines lashed out. Shiozaki recoiled on instinct, the gust scraping across her cheek.
Punches and kicks struck like lightning.
Crash!!
Walls of vines slammed together. The shockwave shook the entire counseling room. A framed icon fell from the wall. Branches splintered across the floor.
Standing before her—was Shiozaki’s Faith Shield.
Thick vines rose and coiled, drawing a hard line between illusion and reality.
Crimson clashed with green—again and again—until the hallucination split at the seams. With every impact, green light fractured, leaves bursting into the air.
Then—
“Mirko!!”
The door burst open—Hawks was already running.
Mirko twisted—stopped.
Her tail snapped upright—stiff as a rod—then began to tremble. The world swayed, blurring. Her hands trembled, searching for balance.
Through the weave of vines, Shiozaki’s face came into view—scratches on her skin, lips pressed tight.
“…What… what did I just do…”
Mirko drew in a ragged breath. Her fingertips twitched. What her fists had been striking—illusion or comrade—she couldn’t tell.
Her rabbit ears stayed rigid. Cold crept through her chest as she tried to breathe.
“…Shiozaki, I… I almost…”
Her words broke apart in the air. Guilt fell like a blade.
Crushed under its weight, Mirko sank to her knees. Green vines slipped over her shoulders, as if offering a silent prayer.
The air stilled.
Shiozaki said nothing. She lowered herself beside Mirko and rested a hand on her shoulder.
“Rumi, it’s all right.”
Shiozaki’s voice was low and calm. She gently unwound the vines from Mirko’s arm.
“It’s over now. You’re safe.”
Hawks came down beside Mirko, a steady hand supporting her shoulder.
“Easy. I’ve got you.”
His voice stayed low—relief and worry crossing his face. He wrapped his arms around her—gentle, careful.
The tension in her chest loosened. Her body eased under his touch.
Shiozaki brought her hands together, as if offering a small prayer.
But—
A low, sticky chuckle crawled through the air.
—Ahahahahahahahahaha!!!
In an instant, the room turned thick with the stench of rotting blood.
—Ears up again, huh? You’ll hear me real clear now.
—Ahahahahahahahahahaha!!!
Laughter clung to the air, thick and foul. In Mirko’s eyes, the curtain of vines shimmered—then shifted, transforming into Shigaraki’s hands.
Hands multiplying without end. Mouths sprouting between them. Fingerprints, nails, joints, wrinkles—and through it all, Shigaraki Tomura, grinning as he reached for her.
—You couldn’t beat me.
—You were torn apart—left in pieces.
—You couldn’t do a damn thing.
“Stop…!”
Mirko screamed. Her ears flattened. She clamped both hands over them.
But the laughter didn’t stop. It burrowed into her—cold, invasive—seeping into bone. Fear and confusion detonated at once. Her lungs seized. Her heart hammered out of control.
“Stop—stop it!!”
Mirko tore free from the vines—no, the hands—and wrenched away from Hawks’s grip.
“Rumi, don’t—!”
Before he could catch her, Mirko drove her shoulder into the door.
It burst open.
“Mirko!!”
Shiozaki’s cry split the air.
Thud—!
The door slammed behind her, the echo rippling through the room.
Through the narrow crack, the laughter leaked out—thin, unbroken.
—Run, Rabbit, run.
—Ahahahahahahahaha—
The voice sank into the darkness beyond the doorway— and still, it wouldn’t let go of her ears.