Chapter 11: Divide

That deafening clap echoed in his head, rattling his very insides. His mind seemingly tore to shreds then haphazardly slammed back into place again, shaking him like a wind chime in a hurricane.

He choked as he fell hard on his back, expression contorting and the blood that had clotted up before tore again, seeping down his face and into his hair. His limbs ached with pins and needles stabbing into them.

Finally, after a moment, the feeling ebbed away and he twitched his fingers.

"Shigaraki," Kurogiri bent down to help the other up, ghosting hands set under his arms.

"I can do it!" hissed Tomura as he swat at the living portal's hand before grunting in pain, muscles aching at the sudden movement. He sat himself up slowly. "Those kids were strong… those damn kids… they cut me, Sensei. Did you know that? Those brats cut me!"

"Shigaraki, remove your mask," Kurogiri bent down beside the boy with a rag in his hand. "I must tend to your wounds."

"Tomura," a voice cut in from a static-screen TV. "Which child cut you?"

"The green one," he grit out. "The green curly one and the blue one. Those brats, they wouldn't let me kill any of them! But- but the green one… The green one, heheh, I got him, Sensei. My Noumu crushed him!"

"Their names, Kurogiri."

Kurogiri wrestled the mask off the silver haired villain before tending to his cut across his nose and right eye. He paused at the question. "I couldn't get the class roster, but I did recognize them. From the first successful Noumu experiment and its assassination."

"Hm…"

"Who are they, Sensei?" Shigaraki drawled as he inched away from Kurogiri's hand.

"They were involved with your perfect Noumu's death, Tomura."

"They… were…" A bloodied hand raised to his neck and he began scratching with chipped nailed. "My Noumu… Sensei…"

"Yes?"

"They were mad, Sensei. Especially the blue one… They wanted blood, I could sense it…" He flinched when Kurogiri wiped the wet rag across his wound, pressing into the arch of his nose to soak up the blood. "No hero should have that much bloodlust… right, Sensei?"

"Hm." There was a bout of silence before another voice cut through the TV.

"What of Sensei and my joint creation, Noumu?"

"We were able to retrieve it. I've warped it back to the depot with you and Sensei," Kurogiri explained, leaning to the side to grab an antiseptic. "It was injured, however."

"Injured?" the second voice questioned incredulously. "Impossible, I engineered it with a regeneration quirk."

"Yes, well, it did regenerate. But All Might had something with him that had melted its tentacles. It responded with pain."

"Sensei?"

"Did you retrieve Shiro's full notes on his experiments?"

"Yes, I did, Sensei."

"Look them over again and adjust the Noumu. It appears we've overlooked a vital detail."

Tomura grit his teeth, his left eye open wide and staring at the screen with intensity. "We could have killed All Might. I could have killed any one of them… but that brat… and All Might's just too strong…"

"You have regrets," Sensei began. "But today's exercise was not in vain. We've learned from today. Gather the elites, and take your time. We cannot move freely, which is why we need a symbol like you. Tomura Shigaraki."

He felt his lips curl in glee, stretching the deep cut that was hastily patched up by Kurogiri. He bit his lip, feeling that familiar bloodlust swirl around in his chest and drip through his saliva and blood. His thoughts drifted to those two brats and All Might. He felt their hatred, their bloodlust. He wanted that.

"Next time, show the world that you are to be feared."

He wanted them.