MHA: Akatsuki

The hero lay motionless on the cold ground, his body aching, his vision still hazy from the brutal beating. Yet, despite the pain, his eyes remained locked on the figure in the sky. The glowing wings, the graceful silhouette—was this real? Or was his mind playing tricks on him in his final moments?

Then, without warning, the sky came alive.

The shimmering light surrounding the figure intensified, and before the five men could react, a torrent of razor-sharp paper rained down from above. The air hissed as the projectiles cut through it with deadly precision.

"ARGH!" A scream tore through the alley as one of the thugs dropped to the ground, blood seeping through the fresh wounds that now littered his body. His body twitched for a moment before falling still.

The others barely had time to process what had happened before more paper shot toward them. Two of them turned on their heels, terror overtaking their arrogance. "Screw this, I'm out!" one of them yelled, bolting toward the alley's exit.

The remaining two, however, held their ground. "It's just paper! What kind of trick is this?!" one of them shouted, raising his arms to shield himself. The other clenched his fists, preparing to swat the incoming barrage away.

Big mistake.

The moment the razor-sharp sheets made contact, deep cuts tore through their flesh like knives slicing through butter. Blood splattered onto the pavement as they screamed in agony, stumbling backward with wide, disbelieving eyes.

Meanwhile, the hero remained where he had fallen, frozen in shock. The paper storm had engulfed the entire alley, yet not a single piece had touched him. His breath came in shallow gasps as he stared at the approaching figure, still hovering effortlessly in the sky.

"Why... why am I not getting hit?" he thought, his heart pounding in his chest.

As the paper continued to slice through his attackers, the hero realized something. This wasn't just some mindless attack—it was precise. Controlled. The only reason he wasn't lying in a pool of his own blood was because the person behind it chose to spare him.

And that thought alone sent a chill down his spine.

The figure with white wings began to descend, her movements impossibly graceful, almost otherworldly. The glow surrounding her illuminated the alley, casting long shadows as she neared the ground.

As she did, the scattered paper from earlier stirred once more, slithering through the air like living blades. The hero's eyes widened as the sheets rushed after the two men who had fled.

A distant scream echoed from the alley's entrance. Then, just as swiftly as they had escaped, the two men were dragged back into the fray.

The hero could only watch in awe as the paper swarmed around them, tightening like ropes, dragging them mercilessly toward the others. Their struggles were useless. Within moments, all five men were piled together in a heap, groaning in pain, their bodies bound by layers of paper that seemed stronger than steel.

Then, silence.

The figure finally landed, her feet barely making a sound against the pavement. She stood tall, composed, as if this was nothing more than routine. The glow of her wings softened, revealing more of her form.

The hero stared at her, his battered body momentarily forgotten. He took in everything he could—the way the papers obeyed her like an extension of herself, the effortless way she had handled the situation. His chest tightened.

"She really is an angel..." He thought.

His throat was dry, but he forced himself to speak. "A-Are you... a hero?" His voice was hoarse, but he pushed past it. "What's your hero name?"

He needed to know.

As the hero asked his question, he took a closer look at the figure before him. Now that she was standing still, he could examine her properly.

Her outfit, though mostly black, had a striking feature—a red cloud pattern flowing across the dark fabric. His gaze trailed up to her mask, which covered her whole face. Two wings were engraved on it.

"That symbol… that outfit…" He thought.

He wracked his brain, searching for any hero that matched it. But no matter how hard he tried, he came up blank. He had never seen or heard of someone like this before.

The silence between them stretched, and just when he thought she wouldn't answer, the figure finally spoke.

"You can call me whatever you want," she said, her voice smooth yet unreadable. "But I am not a hero."

The hero's breath caught in his throat.

"Not a hero?"

His face darkened, his mind racing. If she wasn't a hero, then what was she?

His body, still weak and aching, tensed despite himself. There were only a few possibilities—none of them good.

"A vigilante…?" He thought. That was illegal.

"Or worse… a villain?" He thought further.

His heartbeat quickened. He had been saved, but was he really safe?

The figure's voice was calm, almost indifferent as she spoke.

"I'd run away if I were you."

Without another word, she turned and began walking away from the pile of defeated men. As she moved, the remaining paper that had restrained them unraveled and rushed back to her, only leaving a few while the others seamlessly merging into her form.

The hero remained frozen, his mind blank.

"Run away? Why?" He thought.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed something—the papers that remained, still clinging to the five men had begun to glow.

A sharp, instinctual dread shot through him.

"That's not normal…"

His body reacted before his mind could process it. He turned on his heel and sprinted after the winged figure, his battered body screaming in protest.

Just as he was about to ask her another question, a deafening BOOM erupted behind him. The force of the explosion sent a blast of hot air rushing past him, pushing him forward slightly.

His breath hitched. Eyes wide, he immediately turned back.

The alley was now engulfed in flames. The five men who had been piled together were now barely visible through the roaring fire. The realization hit him like a truck.

"The glowing paper… it wasn't just paper...

It was an explosive." He thought.

The hero stood frozen, his wide eyes reflecting the roaring flames behind him. His mind struggled to process what had just happened, but his instincts screamed that he couldn't let this figure go.

Before he even realized it, his quirk activated despite his battered body.

Thick ropes shot out from his palms, weaving through the air and wrapping tightly around the winged figure. The bindings coiled around her arms and torso, restricting her movement.

"Why did you do that!?" he shouted, his voice raw with anger and disbelief despite his earlier thoughts about her.

His body ached, his breath was ragged, but he couldn't stop himself. "They were down! You didn't have to kill them! Do you even understand what you just did? You—You're a murderer!" His voice cracked with emotion. "There's no way they survived that! Do you even—"

"I don't need to answer to you."

Her voice was cold, cutting through his rant like a knife.

His breath hitched.

The figure, bound in his ropes, lifted her head slightly, her masked face unreadable. "And if you attack me again…" she continued, her tone eerily calm, "you will be making an enemy of the Akatsuki."

The moment she spoke those words, something impossible happened.

Her entire body—even her clothes—began to unravel. She didn't struggle or attempt to break free. Instead, she became the paper.

The ropes he had used to restrain her tightened on empty air.

Hundreds of paper fragments scattered in all directions, fluttering like fallen leaves in the wind. They twisted, swirled, and vanished into the night, carried away as if she had never been there at all.

The hero stood there, completely frozen.

His mind raced, trying to comprehend what he had just witnessed. "She… turned into paper?"

His breathing was heavy, uneven. But one question burned in his mind more than anything else.

"What… or who… is the Akatsuki?"

The next morning...

The sun had barely risen, casting a soft golden hue over the quiet streets. The early morning breeze was crisp, carrying the scent of dew and freshly baked bread from a nearby shop.

Jogging at a steady pace, Satoshi kept his breathing controlled.

Through the eyes of the bird he had summoned, he had seen everything. 

As he neared the site of the explosion, murmurs reached his ears.

"Did you hear? A villain with an explosion quirk attacked a group of criminals last night."

"Yeah! They say the entire place was reduced to ash! The cops and heroes barely found anything left."

"Must be some kind of new villain making a statement."

Satoshi chuckled internally at their assumptions. "An explosion quirk, huh?" He almost wanted to correct them, to tell them that the destruction they were so curious about wasn't from a quirk at all. It was paper.

A twisted sense of amusement flickered in his mind. "If only they knew... If they're shocked by this, I wonder how they'll react when a certain art-loving bomber is reborn."

The thought made him laugh softly under his breath. "Now that... that would be entertaining."

Shaking off the thought, he continued jogging. The closer he got, the stronger the scent of something burning became. Soon enough, he reached the site of the explosion.

The ground was scorched black, and the surrounding walls bore deep scorch marks, still faintly warm from the heat. Police tape surrounded the area, keeping civilians at a distance. The remains of the five men were nowhere to be seen—likely reduced to nothing or taken away during the night.

Satoshi stopped at the edge of the scene, his gaze scanning over the destruction.

"Well… The Akatsuki is for sure gonna be having the attention..." He thought

...

Satoshi's pace remained steady as he jogged once again, the rhythm of his footsteps grounding him in the quiet morning. The cool breeze tousled his hair, carrying the scent of saltwater and fresh earth. The path ahead led to Takoba Municipal Beach Park. 

His thoughts drifted back to the conversation with the skinny man or All Might and Izuku Midoriya.

The memory played in his mind like a film, vivid and clear. Satoshi had emotionally manipulated the two in helping him with his body development. Using his previous quirkless condition, he was able to gain sympathy and their help. 

From the skinny man, who according to Izuku was a 'quirkless guy that used to be a body builder', Satoshi was able to get a personalized training plan to improve his body as much as possible.

And additionally, he was even invited by the two to join Izuku in cleaning the beach. 

Though, it was almost clean, there was still work to do. However, this wasn't the reason Satoshi agreed to joining Izuku. Yes, he could still develop his body by helping clean the beach. However, there was a bigger reason.

Connections.

By joining Izuku, Satoshi would be able to build relationship with Izuku Midoriya, the main character of the series. Not only that, he will also build connections with the skinny man, All Might, the number 1 hero and the Symbol of Peace.

As Satoshi jogged, he thought of this. He also considered future actions after he pass the UA Entrance Exam. And actions he could take as the leader of Akatsuki. 

But soon, his thoughts ended as he arrived in his destination.

"Ah, there you are," the skinny man said, his voice steady and cool, yet somehow warm at the same time. He gave a half-smile, his eyes still hidden behind his shades. "I was wondering when you'd show up."

Satoshi slowed to a stop, panting slightly from his jog. He gave a quick nod, trying to catch his breath. "Didn't expect you to be here so early."

"Hey, Izuku," Satoshi called as he approached, his voice carrying across the quiet beach.

Izuku straightened up, looking over at Satoshi with a bright, welcoming smile. "Oh, hey, Satoshi! You made it!" His enthusiasm was genuine, a welcome change from the usual tension that hung in the air after a confrontation.

"Ah, there you are, Young Yamamoto" the skinny man said, his voice steady and cool, yet somehow warm at the same time. He gave a half-smile, his eyes still hidden behind his shades. "I was wondering when you'd show up."

Satoshi slowed to a stop, panting slightly from his jog. He gave a quick nod, trying to catch his breath. "Oh, I didn't expect you guys to be here so early."

Hearing some chatter from behind him, the green-haired boy, Izuku Midoriya turned around to see his mentor, All Might talking to Satoshi. he then walked over and looked over at Satoshi with a bright, welcoming smile. "Oh, hey, Satoshi! You made it!" His enthusiasm was genuine, a welcome change from the usual tension that hung in the air after a confrontation.