Inoue Kiyoko didn't answer.
She lowered her head and stared at the floor, as if something were growing there. Something worth focusing on. Something safer than looking up.
On the surface, she looked calm.
But her back was soaked through. Cold sweat clung to her skin, her clothes sticking uncomfortably.
And yet, that fear didn't break her.
It sharpened her.
Because they hadn't killed her.
Not yet.
They came all this way, sat down, and spoke to her.
That meant one thing.
She still had value.
If she could figure out what that value was, she could live.
It was that simple.
So what if there was a price?
She would pay it.
Even if it meant selling out everyone she had once stood beside.
Would that destroy them?
So what?
Her husband was dead.
Her life was hanging by a thread.
Why should she be the only one to fall?
Why should they walk away clean?
That wasn't fair.
They were all the same.
All traitors.
No one among them had the right to stand above the others.
If she had to die, then they should die too.
If betrayal had a price, then everyone who took part should pay it.
If she was going down, she would drag them with her.
"How ugly."
The voice came from the side.
Light. Almost bored.
Shigaraki stepped forward.
Until now, he had just been watching.
He hadn't planned to get involved. Killing a defenseless middle-aged woman didn't interest him, and there was no benefit in it either.
She wasn't a hero.
Not a notable villain.
Just a small person clinging to life.
But the way her face twisted, the way she searched desperately for someone to throw under the knife just to buy a few more breaths...
He couldn't ignore it.
"You'd sell anyone," he said, faintly amused. "Anyone at all, as long as it keeps you alive a little longer."
He took the teacup Black Mist handed him and sat down by the fire like a guest dropping in late at night.
"No loyalty. No bottom line."
He took a slow sip, then looked at her over the rim.
"So this is what All Might wants to protect."
He didn't raise his voice.
He didn't need to.
The disdain was obvious.
Then he smiled slightly.
"Still, people like you are convenient."
He set the cup down.
"Talk."
"Tell me everything."
"Do that, and maybe I'll let you go out cleanly."
He meant part of it.
People like her were efficient. No pretending, no resistance. They gave up information quickly.
That saved time.
But that didn't mean he respected her.
Trading others for your life was one thing.
Doing it without hesitation, without even a hint of shame, was something else entirely.
"…Maybe?" Kiyoko caught that word instantly.
She didn't want maybe.
She wanted certainty.
"Please," she said quickly. "I know things. A lot. I can be useful. Just don't kill me."
Shigaraki didn't answer.
He picked up the cup again and drank, as if he hadn't heard her.
That silence said everything.
She had no leverage.
No position to negotiate.
Kiyoko's fingers dug into her palms.
Fear surged again, thick and suffocating.
Black Mist sighed softly.
"Mrs. Inoue," he said, still polite, "we have no reason to spare traitors."
He paused.
"But death has... different forms."
His gaze rested on her.
"To die quickly, or to die slowly. To suffer, or not to suffer."
"I'm sure you have a preference."
His tone remained gentle.
But the meaning was clear.
Kiyoko swallowed.
She wanted to say something defiant.
Something proud.
Something like if you're going to kill me anyway, I won't help you.
But fear won.
Fear of pain.
Fear of fire.
Fear of what came next.
So she spoke.
Names.
Locations.
Old contacts.
Hidden routes.
Safe houses.
People who thought the past had already buried them.
She gave it all.
And as she spoke, Shigaraki's expression shifted.
Satisfied.
This was worth coming for.
She knew more than expected. More than Black Mist had uncovered on his own.
Which meant she had never truly let go of the past.
She had been watching.
Waiting.
Preparing.
A woman who survived this long was never simple.
The only reason she was this cooperative now was because she had been broken twice in one night.
First by her husband's death.
Then by the realization that the past had returned.
For people like her, All For One was never gone.
Just waiting.
Once he had everything he wanted, Shigaraki stretched and yawned.
Then he lifted his foot and kicked over the coal stove beside him.
Charcoal spilled across the floor.
Sparks followed.
Then fire.
It started small.
Quiet.
Then spread.
Kiyoko's eyes widened.
"What are you doing?"
Her voice cracked.
"You said... you said if I cooperated—"
She stopped herself.
Burning alive was not painless.
Shigaraki laughed.
"Did I?"
He poured himself another cup of tea, then smashed the kettle on the ground. The spilled liquid slowed the fire near his feet.
Only then did he look at her.
"You should listen more carefully."
"I never promised anything."
He tilted his head slightly.
"I said maybe."
The realization hit her.
Too late.
Shigaraki stood, then crouched in front of her.
Without warning, he placed his hands on her legs and crushed her knees.
A dull, sickening sound.
Kiyoko didn't scream.
She didn't have the strength.
She just bit her lip hard enough to bleed.
She understood now.
The fire wasn't just for pain.
It was for cleanup.
Burn everything.
Erase the traces.
Make it look like an accident.
No witnesses.
No evidence.
No trail.
Her husband was gone.
Her home was burning.
Even her death would mean nothing.
Just another incident.
Filed away.
Forgotten.
That way of doing things reminded her of one person.
So clearly it made her sick.
All For One.
She had believed he disappeared after fighting All Might.
But looking at the boy in front of her now, she realized something worse.
Even if the man was gone...
his will wasn't.
It was here.
Sitting in front of her.
Drinking tea while everything burned.
She looked at him.
"Who... are you to him?"
Shigaraki blinked.
"That's what you want to ask?"
He almost expected begging.
Instead, she wanted that.
It didn't matter.
He stood up slowly.
Firelight flickered across his face.
"To him?"
He smiled.
"I'm his student."
"His successor."
"The one who'll take everything further."
He looked down at her.
"And rewrite this world."
The last bit of hope left her eyes.
So that was it.
Not a shadow.
Not a remnant.
Something worse.
Something chosen.
If only she hadn't betrayed him back then.
If only she hadn't taken that first step.
But regret meant nothing now.
The world didn't care about what could have been.
The fire grew.
The night outside stayed quiet.
And Inoue Kiyoko sat there, unable to move, watching everything burn.
In the end, she understood one thing.
They hadn't just betrayed a ruler.
With their own hands,
they had created a devil.
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