But it’s only succeeding in keeping Stain at bay, keeping him dodging and ducking while Todoroki slowly grows more and more tired. Iida doesn’t have to see the sweat mixing with the blood seeping out of his cuts or the tremble that will start in his fingers to know that using a quirk as much as Todoroki has in the past few minutes is unsustainable. He’ll fizzle and melt and Iida hates the thought.

Stain flits from one wall to the other, dangerously close, while Iida struggles to move even a finger. His hand cramps from the effort it takes to pull it slowly into a fist.

He needs to stand up, Todoroki’s right, he needs to look at what he wants to be. And he wants to be helping his friends, wants to protect them. Tensei wasn’t the type to go after someone because of personal vengeance, he did it to save the people who needed help.

Stain darts forward, sidestepping Todoroki’s ice with an ease that freezes Iida’s veins instead. Todoroki’s left arm is wreathed in fire as he takes another shot and Iida gets to his knees. His legs feel like leaden weights, moving takes a thousand times more effort but he’s almost standing when he sees it.

Stain is too close. The blade angled inside Todoroki’s defenses is a single slash of silver on Iida’s vision as he activates his engines and speeds forward.

...a second too late.

His foot slams into Stain and the Hero Killer is sent flying. The blow was enough for Iida to hear a crack from the plating around his shin, but it did the job.

When his feet touch the ground, there’s a wet splash. The silver of his boots is rimmed in red from the puddle he’s now standing in and he turns to see its source.

Todoroki is lying on his side, curled up with his hand clutching at his left shoulder while spurts of ice from his fingers fight to stem the flow of blood. The front of his shirt is split open from his collarbone to underneath his arm and though it’s too dark for Iida to see clearly, Todoroki’s skin is wet with blood. Where his left shoulder used to be, there is now a ragged mass of flesh poking from the blue sleeve that’s quickly being soaked through. A thin cry escapes Todoroki’s mouth before he stops moving.

Iida’s heart skips a beat at the sight and his mind’s spins into worst possible scenarios when he hears a slurp from behind him. Stain is smiling, tongue flicking out to wet his lips as he lowers the drenched sword.

It’s a bare comfort that Todoroki still breathes, even immobile, and the grey eye that Iida can see staring up at him is wide and dulled. The composure Iida has been clinging to snaps and he is shooting towards Stain before his mind can process his actions. His right engine struggles to keep up with the sudden burst of speed and an uneven step leads to an off-kilter kick. Stain dodges by a hair before jabbing a knife towards the back of Iida’s knee. He won’t be able to avoid it at this close range, he won’t be able to run if it hits it’s mark. He’s bracing for the pain when the blade is knocked aside as a pillar of wildfire sprouts between them. It’s easy to see how uncontrolled it is, the flames swirling without aim and singing Iida’s plated armor but the moment is enough. Iida skids to a halt still facing Stain despite the need to check on Todoroki.

“One less false hero’s progeny who thinks themself worthy,” Stain says, eyes skimming over the prone form behind Iida. “Didn’t even have the conviction to use their own quirk.”

Ignoring both Stain’s taunting and the guttering of his engine, Iida jumps after him. He sees a blur out of the corner of his eye, something green and glowing but he only has concentration enough to push himself into one last Recipro Burst. With how bad his leg is overheating now, he has no illusions about whether he’ll be able to keep fighting after this.

The moment comes and he sees Stain’s sword loom towards him, edges still dripping, but his boot has already connected solidly with the villain’s chest. Above, Deku punches him with a howl that rips through the air. Stain folds under the assault, his death grip relinquishing the sword that killed so many.

Iida has no thought for victory when the Hero Killer that maimed his brother drops to the ground before them, no thought for the way his hand is turning numb as he turns to limp slowly towards Todoroki.

He almost can’t bear the sight of the mangled arm and the way it looks like it’s hanging on by a single sinew. Todoroki pulls in a shuddering breath when Iida kneels down beside him, . There’s a mess of stained ice spread like a patchwork over the wound and Iida doesn’t know how Todoroki was able to keep conscious this long while holding himself together with only his quirk. The concrete below him is scorched over a wide swath that covers half of the alley and the section of wall where Stain had once been. The blood at the puddle’s edge is still bubbling from the sheer heat that passed by it.

“I can’t reach any of the hospitals,” Deku says from his post beside Stain, pressing his phone to his ear harder like it will help, “All the lines are busy.”

The night sky overhead is shaded with orange light from distant fires as Iida tries to think of what they should do. He’s the class representative, this whole fight is his fault, he has to right what has gone horribly wrong but as his mind starts to fitfully spin, it doesn’t help. Recovery Girl won’t be able to do anything to put Todoroki back together again, they’re all injured with one barely restrained villain, the likelihood of getting to someplace that can help Todoroki is a long shot, should they risk moving him and making it worse or just stay here until they can get ahold of...

“I’ll carry him. Let’s get to the main road.” Native’s offer is almost lost to the buzzing building in Iida’s head and he looks up to see the Pro Hero crouched on Todoroki’s other side. The tired but reassuring smile is at odds with the hopeless look in his eyes as the hero carefully picks Todoroki up. Todoroki’s head droops against his chest, eyes glassily open even as he shivers and shakes. The hand covering what’s left of his shoulder looks like it’s practically frozen there, the ice the only thing keeping him from losing any more blood.

Iida’s traitorous mind fixates on the Pro Hero’s proposal and lets it overrule any suggestion he might have come up with. He’s committed so many mistakes that the thought of it makes him reel with nausea. His brother’s suit feels tight around his throat, holding in his breath along with his guilt. A villain had been more right than he was, he’d fallen into revenge with anger blinding him to what path he’d been taking and in the end his friends had been the ones getting hurt to keep him safe. Deku looks like he’s barely standing and Todoroki… Iida grits his teeth, his worry threatening to pull him under at the thought of what happened to Todoroki.

They’re walking towards the end of the alleyway, he and Deku dragging Stain as well as they can both manage with a functioning pair of arms and legs between the two of them, when Endeavor and another pro-Hero turn up. Deku introduces Gran Torino as the man he’d been interning under, but everything is swept away by the roar that echoes down the street as one of the top heroes in the entire country looms over Native and almost wrenches his injured son out of his grasp. Iida sees Todoroki try to stiffen and shy away but the movement is weak enough that he only manages to cradle his arm against his chest.

“What happened?” Endeavor growls, the anger in his eyes freezing Iida and Deku to the spot. “How did he get injured?”

Iida swallows, his mouth dry after the fight and even dryer at what he’ll have to tell Endeavor. But it’s the truth.

“Stain cut him during the fight, I was too late to stop it,” Iida admits, lowering the villain to the ground and struggling to meet Endeavor’s piercing gaze.

“Can he still use the arm?”

“I don’t know, sir, he saved us—”

“At what cost,” Endeavor snaps, low and biting, turning away before Iida had managed to close his mouth. He’s kept from continuing his explanation by the arrival of more heroes who crowd around Stain and Todoroki until Iida loses sight of him completely. But the words stay.  

They stay as help arrives, as the sound of everyone asking about what happened begins to turn to meaningless syllables, as he feels the armor that held him together being taken off and his thoughts fracture inside.

It was a rarity for Hibiki to be called to JP’s when there wasn’t much going on. Even when it was something that could reasonably be handled by JP’s agents, Yamato had a habit of calling him to come help out with something or other. But it had been reasonably quiet lately. No seals that needed to be remade, no demons emerging from beyond the fold, nothing. Not that he was complaining; at least his Christmas would be demon free.

His vision slid to the numbers above the elevator door as they slowly descended toward the JP’s logo at the very end. What did they need him for today, anyways? It had been Makoto who’d called him, not Yamato, so he didn’t think it was just for a booty call. Did she need him to fight something? No, she’d have mentioned that in her call if that were the case.

Finally, the elevator rolled to a stop. The doors slid open, and immediately, Hibiki’s vision was assaulted by a barrage of color.

For a good moment he stood in the elevator doorway, his mind dumbfoundedly trying to process the scene before him. The massive clock at the far end of the hall had been decorated in a net of twinkling lights, with garlands suspended from every available surface. At the clock’s base, a diorama of Santa’s workshop, complete with fake snow, had been laid out with great care. The railings on the walkways had garlands curled around them, and the pillars supporting them were lined with more lights. All around the hall, JP’s agents in yellow jackets were putting out more fake snow, more lights, and throwing a fine layer of tinsel over everything.

Hibiki slowly stepped forward, his mouth hanging slightly open. The room was almost completely unrecognizable as the JP’s he was used to.

“Ah, Kuze. I was wondering when you would show.”

He turned to see Makoto holding a box of plush reindeer and elves. She put the box down next to her and smiled. “It’s a bit of a change from the usual, isn’t it?” she said.

“What’s the occasion?” Hibiki asked. Usually JP’s was too business-oriented to even think about doing something so festive. Yamato definitely hadn’t approved this.

“With the recent budget cuts, morale has been a little low, so I thought a little holiday spirit might do a bit to cheer the staff up. Shijima, Nitta, and Akie are helping out, too.”

“Joe too?” Yeah, Joe seemed like the kind of guy who’d get a little too into Christmas.

A voice from behind Hibiki suddenly spoke up. “Yeah, he’s harassing the mess hall staff. Kept going on about mistletoe and traditions… That guy…” Hibiki turned to see Fumi walking up, a fine dusting of snow over her JP’s jacket. He waved to her, but instead of acknowledging him, she brushed past him toward Makoto. “Hey, Mako. We’ve got a bit of a problem… Looks like the roads leading here are all snowed over, so that tree you wanted? Isn’t gonna get here in time.”

Makoto put a hand to her chin, frowning. “That is a problem…  the display here was built assuming that we’d have a tree to place in the center…”

“Can’t we get an artificial tree?” Hibiki offered.

“This close to Christmas? No way. The stores are going to be all sold out,” Fumi said.

Hibiki turned back toward the display. It was pretty obviously cheaply made (well, there was no way Yamato would approve “high quality christmas decorations” on a JP’s budget plan), but the piles of fake snow, plastic garlands and scattered tinsel had character. It felt like a shame to leave it unfinished now, with it so close to completion.

There had to be something that could be done…

“Ah, Shining One.”

“GYAAAH!” Hibiki jumped forward and whipped around, coming face to face with a white haired man in a red and black striped shirt. Makoto and Fumi both took a step back, but the white-haired man only chuckled a bit. “Don’t do that!”

“My apologies,” Al Saiduq said. The man smiled softly as he stepped forward, turning his head this way and that as he looked over the displays. “What an interesting display… Makoto Sako, was this your creation?”

Makoto nodded, seemingly having recovered from Saiduq’s sudden appearance. “Yes, but it’s not quite complete yet. We’re still missing the centerpiece.”

“Ah, yes, these displays usually include a tree, do they not? That is quite unfortunate,” Saiduq said. He floated across the floor, his hands clasped behind him, humming a Christmas carol as he moved. Hibiki watched him float across the floor, frowning. With how sudden Saiduq’s appearance had been, he’d hoped that he had some kind of convenient solution for them.

He stared at Saiduq a moment longer, and an incredibly stupid idea floated into Hibiki’s mind. No, there’s no way that would work… There’s no way he’d let us do that, right?

“Heyyyyy, Dukey!” Joe’s voice called across the hall. Hibiki turned to see him bounding toward the group, his arms full of tinsel and ornaments, and suddenly felt a pang of dread.

“Dukey…? Ah, you mean me. How may I help you, Yuzuru Akie?” Saiduq asked.

And with a grin, Joe proceeded to blurt out the incredibly stupid idea that had just floated through Hibiki’s mind. Saiduq put his hand to his chin, as if thinking for a moment.

And then, he nodded. “Yes… I believe this solution will suffice.”

Predictably enough, the meeting with the Diet had gone badly.

The bureaucrats who ran their country had no appreciation for the benefits JP’s had brought them, no understanding of anything that was not in front of their nose. Unless they saw for themselves the danger of spiritual threats, they merely saw JP’s as a waste of tax dollars. In times of peace like these, their political connections did no good; they couldn’t have fingers in every enterprise, and there were always new politicians coming in. In this modern age, men were just not so easily cowed by the threat of demonic attack.

The decision had been simple, concise, and final, made after only thirty minutes of deliberation. The Diet would not return JP’s to its former budgetary levels.

Yamato tugged at his tie as the elevator descended into the bowels of the Diet Building. It was of no consequence. They would simply have to make do for now with the budget they had.

The elevator rumbled to a stop, and for a brief moment before the elevator doors opened, Yamato was filled with an inexplicable dread. For some reason, he wanted to turn the elevator back around and take the long way back to Osaka.

But before he could stop the elevator, the doors slid open, and an incomprehensible scene assaulted his vision.

In the center of the room was a large, floating, red and black striped star. Wrapped around the star were several razor sharp wires, which in a normal situation would be used as weapons in battle, and several glittering tinsel garlands, which in a normal situation would go on a Christmas tree. Multicolored glass orbs had been hung from the wires by tiny wire hooks, and they lightly shook as the star floated.

“Ow! Io, watch the shoulder!”

“Oh… s-sorry, I’m…”

Surrounding the inhuman being were several faces familiar to Yamato. Io Nitta was standing on Daichi Shijima’s shoulders, placing a plastic star on the highest point of the being. Yuzuru Akie was draping nets of lights over its vertices, with Otome Yanagiya watching over him, smiling and laughing as Akie struggled with the decorations. Fumi Kanno was sitting on a generator hooked into the lights, typing away at her laptop. Makoto Sako stood nearby her, occasionally commenting on whatever Kanno had on her computer.

“Your ingenuity is quite amazing… in the absence of a ladder, you used teamwork to reach your goal.” a garbled voice spoke into Yamato’s mind. He was quite certain it was not directed at him.

A horde of yellow garbed JP’s officers surrounded the group, as if unsure how to proceed. Scowling, Yamato shoved his way through the crowd, and as he approached the center, the crowd began to part before him.

“What is going on here?” Yamato snapped upon reaching the front. Immediately, Shijima let out a yelp and began to stumble. He finally lost his balance, Nitta falling off of him and landing on top of Shijima’s chest. The others turned toward him, their eyes getting wide. Yamato remained where he was standing, his arms crossed, as not a single person answered him. “Well?”

It was Hibiki, exceptional Hibiki, reliable Hibiki, Hibiki who would definitely never do this, who eventually stepped forward. “It’s Christmas.”

Yamato stared straight at him. Hibiki met his eyes unflinchingly.

“Hibiki,” Yamato hissed, “do Christmas festivities normally include large, alien creatures draped in tinsel?”

Silence. A pin could have dropped, and the whole world would have heard it. The whole room seemed to be holding their breath, as if gauging how safe it was to speak. Shijima looked like he might drop dead at any moment. The giant polygon merely floated, the lights draped over him glittering without any care for the atmosphere.

“Well? Do they?” Yamato said. “Sako?”

“Sir…?”

“I would like… an answer.”

A look of dawning recognition bloomed across Hibiki’s face, and it slowly spread to the others standing around him. Quietly, Shijima whispered, “A-Are you kidding me right now?”

A murmur began to carry across the crowd.

“Does he really…?”

“Oh my god. He doesn’t know.”

Yamato crossed his arms, suddenly feeling very irritated. He had no the time nor inclination to correct the misunderstanding. Did they really think he was that sheltered? And, suddenly grinning, Hibiki stepped forward.

“Well… normally you have a Christmas tree for Christmas. But it wasn’t going to get here in time, so we improvised,” he said plainly.

“Yeah, and Dukey happened to be right here, so we thought, what the hey! Why not have our friend help out, right?” Joe cut in.

An unearthly voice floated across the room, coming from the floating, decorated polygon. “Yes, I volunteered my body for the sake of the celebration. I do not hope that will be a problem, Yamato Hotsuin.”

Yamato stared directly at Al Saiduq, still scowling. He didn’t even know where to begin. Whatever he thought of Saiduq now, the fact remained that he was here, flaunting his true form in the middle of the entrance hall, knowing full well that he’d once seen him as a mutual enemy. And everyone else was in here just…accepting it.

“Sir, if I may,” Makoto spoke up.

“You may continue,” Yamato said through clenched teeth.

“I thought that a little decoration may do a bit to raise our agents’ spirits. Whatever you may think of them, even the most talented man cannot work to his full potential if his motivation is low.”

She stared directly at him as she spoke. Slowly, Yamato turned his head to look over the group of people before him, the comrades he’d fought alongside. Before he’d walked in, they seemed to have been enjoying themselves… It was not an emotion he’d seen in these halls recently, with their recent struggles with budgetary committees.

Perhaps… it would not be such a bad idea to let them do as they wished, just this once.

He gave a small smile. “Very well. I will permit it.”

A cheer rang out from behind him. Several JP’s agents rushed past Yamato to the boxes of decorations surrounding Al Saiduq, pulling out baubles and trinkets and hanging them from his wires. He blinked at the sight… and then let out a sigh. It seemed they’d only been waiting around to see if it was alright for them to join in.

“Thank you, Yamato Hotsuin,” Al Saiduq’s voice said. Yamato averted his eyes. It was hard for him to even look with the bright lights and glittering ornaments right in his face. Everything about this was just… painfully garish. Hibiki grinned at him, seeming particularly amused by the whole situation.

Yamato opened his mouth to speak again, only for someone to roughly throw their arm around his shoulder.

“Ahahahaha! Alright! Now let’s get you into something more festive, Yammy!” Akie said. Yamato stared up at Akie with a look of dull annoyance, when Otome suddenly spoke up.

“Oh, Joe, you’re right! That sweater we found would be just his size!”

“What?” Yamato turned his head to his side to see Otome standing next to him, only to suddenly be jerked forward as Joe looped his arm around Yamato’s, Otome did the same, and the two of them jerked him toward a storage room. “Let go! Hibiki!”

He turned back over his shoulder toward Hibiki, and saw Hibiki waving at him. His eyes widening, Yamato opened his mouth to bark something out before he was pulled into the storage room, and the door slammed shut.

“It’s really not that bad.”

Yamato grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. He didn’t want to look down at the large, bulky, cotton sweater he wore, nor the amusing cartoon reindeer on the front of it. He just wanted to continue sitting on the grand staircase and sulk. How Otome had managed to pull him out of his jacket and force him into this so quickly, he did not know.

Hibiki leaned over and put his hand on Yamato’s sleeve. “It’s part of the tradition! You know, the ugly Christmas sweater? Look, it even lights up.”

He pressed down on the end of the sleeve, and the reindeer’s nose lit up red as tiny LEDs all over the sweater began to glitter. Yamato let out a loud groan.

At some point, someone had brought down some sake, and now most of the adults were clustered around a table drinking their hearts away. Suddenly, there was a bright flash of light from Yamato’s left, and when he turned to see, he saw a much smaller, now human, Al Saiduq walking toward them, trailing garlands and christmas lights behind him like a cape.

“Children of man, would it be alright if I also partook?”

“Wha? When’dya get so… so small again, Dukey?”

Hibiki put an arm around Yamato’s shoulder. “I know this wasn’t what you were expecting, but just live with it for a day, okay?”

“Mmm.”

“…So, did you really not know what a Christmas tree was?” Hibiki asked.

“Of course I knew. Fir trees have long been used in Saturnalia celebrations, so it only makes sense that the tradition would have survived into current times,” Yamato said.