While Izuku was busy making a mess out of them. Melissa was going somewhere.
The car ride was silent, but it was a peaceful kind of silence, one where Melissa didn't feel the need to fill the air with words.
The presence of the person beside her, who had come to pick her up, was enough to make her feel less alone. The city lights blurred past as they drove through the empty streets, and for the first time in hours, her mind stopped racing.
They arrived at a quiet hotel, and as they stepped out of the car, the cool night air washed over her, calming her further. She followed her companion inside, her steps slow, still weighed down by the emotions she was carrying, but lighter than before.
Inside the hotel, the warm lights and soft ambiance greeted them. As they walked toward the room, Melissa heard a small, excited voice calling out from the hallway.
"Mom! Mom!" A little girl ran up, grabbing the hand of the person beside Melissa, but her wide eyes immediately turned toward Melissa. Concern filled the child's face as she looked up at her, her small brow furrowed with worry. "Are you hurt?"
Melissa blinked, her heart softening at the sight of the little girl's concern. She felt her chest tighten, but this time it wasn't from pain—it was from the warmth of the innocence in front of her. "No, sweetie, I'm… I'm not hurt," Melissa managed to say, her voice shaky.
The little girl's frown deepened, and she asked in the softest, sweetest voice, "Who hurt you?
"No one hurt me, darling! I just had a fight with my dad." Melissa said, caressing her head.
"I'll tell my daddy to talk to your daddy, so he won't fight with you." said Eri.
Melissa's breath caught in her throat, and for a moment, the heaviness of her problems faded. "Your… daddy?" she asked, confused, trying to smile despite her exhaustion.
Before the little girl could answer, Kaina's voice came from the room. "The guy you were with yesterday. You know, partially responsible for how you're feeling right now."
A woman with long, dark hair stood in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame. There was no malice in her tone, just a calm acknowledgment of the situation.
Melissa felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment. She was still trying to process everything when another voice interrupted. "Eri, sweetheart, it's late. You need to go to bed. Daddy will be upset if he knows you're still awake."
The woman who had spoken had a soft, maternal tone. She stepped into the hallway, gently guiding the little girl—Eri—back inside.
Eri pouted, but before leaving, she tiptoed toward Melissa and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. "We'll play in the morning, okay?"
Melissa smiled faintly, her heart warming again. "Okay, sweetie."
As Eri disappeared into the room, Melissa's mind swirled with questions. She hesitated for a moment before asking quietly, "Is… is she really his daughter?"
The woman who had spoken first shook her head, her voice softening. "No, she's adopted. But she calls him Dad. She likes it that way."
Melissa blinked, trying to piece everything together. The questions buzzing in her head grew louder. "Do you know what he's been doing?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
The woman nodded, and the one beside her pulled out a phone, showing her a video. The screen displayed a scene of people—victims—being treated, bandaged, and cared for. "These are the ones we saved a while ago," one of them explained quietly.
Melissa's chest tightened again, this time in a different way. As she watched the video, she couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. She hadn't known the full extent of what was happening.
The woman who had picked her up earlier—who had stayed silent for most of this—finally spoke up. "How are you feeling now?"
Melissa took a deep breath, trying to gather her thoughts. "I… I don't know. It's just… everything. I had a fight with my dad, and… I don't know what to believe anymore."
The other women exchanged a glance, their expressions softening. "We've all had our moments with him," one of them said. "He can be cold, sometimes harsh. But he's not a bad person."
"He's not," the other added. "He's just… focused. He's been through more than you think. More than any of us have, really."
Melissa's brow furrowed as she listened, trying to understand. "What do you mean?"
They explained everything—their experiences with him, the way he obsessed over quirks, the lengths he went to in order to save people.
They told her about the books, the plans, the careful breakdowns of each person's abilities. And the way he had always been honest, even if his honesty had come off as cruel at times.
"And it's not just the quirks," one of the women said, her voice quiet. "It's what he's seen, what he's lived through. The things that drive him…"
Melissa nodded slowly, starting to understand, but still feeling the weight of her own heartache. "It just… felt so rushed. Like everything happened all at once."
The woman beside her placed a hand on her shoulder, giving her a gentle squeeze. "We know. And that's why we're telling you—it wasn't about you. It's just how he is sometimes. He'll make things right."
The warmth of their words slowly began to ease the tension inside her. Melissa felt something in her chest shift, the weight lifting just a little. She still felt broken, but now she didn't feel so alone in it.
After a moment of quiet, the woman beside her smiled softly and said, "We'll tell him to apologize."
Melissa let out a shaky breath, managing a small smile. "Thanks. I think… I think I needed to hear that."
The one who had picked her up gently guided her toward the bathroom. "Come on. Let's get you freshened up, and we'll get some sleep."
Melissa nodded, letting herself be led. After changing and washing her face, she returned to the room where the other women were already settling down for the night.
The bed was big enough for all of them, and as she slipped under the covers, she felt a sense of comfort she hadn't felt in a long time.
One by one, they all hugged her, offering their silent support. The warmth of their embrace eased the tightness in her chest even more.
Melissa closed her eyes, letting herself sink into the comfort of being surrounded by people who cared. For the first time in what felt like forever, her mind wasn't racing. The pain was still there, but now, it didn't feel so unbearable.
As she drifted off to sleep, she knew she wasn't alone anymore.
When Izuku dragged out the final board member, they were gathered in a broken heap alongside the others. Bruised, battered, and trembling, the surviving board members knelt together in the open, huddled in fear.
Blood dripped from their faces, and their wide, frantic eyes darted around, desperately searching for an escape that didn't exist.
Izuku's clones formed an impenetrable circle around them, their expressions cold, unyielding. The guilty board members whimpered and pleaded for help, but no one was coming to save them.
Their cries fell on deaf ears, their fates sealed. There was no escape, no mercy, only the impending punishment that loomed over them.
Izuku stood tall, his gaze hard and unforgiving as his clones closed in, ready to deliver the reckoning they deserved. Their terror-filled whimpers blended with the night air, but Izuku didn't flinch. There was no room for pity—only justice, and it was just the beginning.
The clones moved in, healed them a bit, fists raised, and in an instant, the beatings began. Each clone targeted a different board member, striking them with an intensity that matched Izuku's cold fury.
Screams filled the air as the clones unleashed a storm of punches and kicks, their anger directed at the people who had profited from the suffering of others.
The ground was stained with blood, and the once-luxurious surroundings were reduced to a wreckage of pain and destruction.
"I don't care about your excuses," Izuku said, watching from the center of the chaos as his clones punished the guilty. "You destroyed lives for power, for profit. This is what you deserve."
With that, he pulled out many vials, filled with the same drug they had used on their innocent victims during the experiments. He injected each board member, one by one.
Their eyes widened in terror as the substance coursed through their veins, their bodies rejecting it almost immediately. They began convulsing, writhing in unbearable pain.
"No! Please, stop!" one of them screamed as their muscles spasmed uncontrollably, veins bulging as the drug wreaked havoc inside them.
Another member's skin began to break out in grotesque welts and sores, his face contorting in pain as he scratched at his own flesh, drawing blood.
The woman who had once been so proud of her wealth sobbed uncontrollably as her body twisted and contorted, her bones cracking from the violent reaction.
Izuku watched, his gaze cold as they suffered. The drug triggered violent withdrawal symptoms—sweats, tremors, uncontrollable vomiting. They clawed at their own skin, tearing at themselves as their bodies rebelled against them. Blood dripped from their mouths, noses, and ears as they convulsed in agony.
Their screams filled the night, but Izuku didn't flinch. One by one, they crumbled. Their bodies, ravaged by the substance, began to shut down.
Some thrashed violently, trying in vain to fight off the inevitable, while others curled up in the fetal position, crying for relief that would never come.
As they died, slowly and painfully, their bodies contorted in unnatural ways, choking on their own blood and bile. Izuku felt nothing. They had destroyed innocent lives, and now they faced the same torment they had inflicted on others.
The air was thick with the stench of death and suffering by the time the last board member drew their final breath. Their bodies lay broken, bloodied, and twisted in the streets, a grotesque testament to the lives they had destroyed.
He stared at the wreckage around him, feeling no remorse for what he had done. This was justice.
As he vanished into the shadows, leaving the scene behind, he knew that while these board members had paid the price, his mission wasn't over.
There was still more work to be done, more people who needed to face the consequences of their actions.
And Izuku wouldn't stop until every last one of them had paid in full.
A/N: If my story brought even a hint of a smile to your face, drop a comment—I'd love to hear it! Knowing I brightened someone's day fuels my creativity! My only goal is to make people smile and find happiness in this dull world. Not to mention I want to reach Oda sensei's level of storytelling.
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