Zoro woke before dawn.
Sleep hadn't meant much to him that night. Ever since Yoroimusha told him the thread he'd been chasing for years had finally led to an actual location, he'd stopped seeing any reason to wait around.
He stood in front of the small mirror in his room and fastened his sword belt with calm, practiced motions. His hands stayed steady, his eyes sharper than usual.
A black blade existed somewhere in this city.
And this time, he knew exactly where to start looking.
He stepped out into the back courtyard of Yoroimusha's agency, a stretch of open ground set aside for training. The air sat cold, dew coating the grass. He drew Wado Ichimonji from its sheath and moved through his basic drills: consecutive cuts, lateral steps, rebalancing after each strike.
His body ran through the motions with perfect muscle memory, but his mind had drifted somewhere else entirely.
He caught the sound of quiet footsteps behind him.
"A bit early for training."
He didn't turn. He knew the voice immediately.
Yoroimusha stopped a few meters away, dressed in his traditional garb, his eyes tracking Zoro's movements with focus.
"Wasn't sleeping anyway." Zoro answered without breaking rhythm.
"That's not good." Yoroimusha said it plainly. "A tired body makes mistakes."
Zoro's blade stilled, and he slid it back into its sheath. He turned toward Yoroimusha. "What about you? Did you sleep?"
Yoroimusha didn't answer directly. Instead, he stepped forward twice and pulled his own sword free in one smooth motion. "I'll show you something. Pay attention."
Zoro dropped into an instinctive ready stance, but Yoroimusha didn't attack. He moved through a slow sequence of motions, each one flowing into the next without pause. It was a traditional way of passing down sword principles, not through words, but through movement itself.
Zoro watched closely. Yoroimusha's movements weren't fast or forceful, but they carried a precision that bordered on unsettling. Every motion calculated, not a drop of energy wasted. Even his breathing stayed synced to the blade's rhythm.
Yoroimusha finished the sequence and sheathed his sword.
"What did you see?" he asked.
Zoro thought it over for a moment. "You weren't attacking. You were reading."
Yoroimusha's mouth curved into a faint smile. "That's right. A sword isn't always for striking. Sometimes it's for understanding."
He stepped closer. "When you face a swordsman carrying a blade whose nature you don't understand, don't rush it. Watch. Let him make the first mistake. Difficult swords don't forgive impatience."
Zoro didn't answer, but he slowed his next motion slightly, then repeated the strike at a calmer angle.
"Is that what happened to you?" Zoro asked suddenly. "With that sword?"
Yoroimusha's movement stilled. For a moment, he seemed to be deciding whether to answer at all.
"Years ago now." He started low. "I got close to it once, during one stage of the investigation. I didn't have the right to take it, and the operation didn't allow me to risk myself for it. What happened next was a lesson I never forgot."
"You got hurt?"
"Yes." He answered simply. "A wound to my shoulder. Not deep, but enough to teach me a blade isn't carried by desire alone. Whoever holds it has to understand how to handle it."
Zoro blinked slowly. He pictured the scene: a younger Yoroimusha, closing in on a mysterious black sword, misjudging it. What he felt wasn't fear from the story. It was a growing respect for a blade he hadn't even seen yet.
"But you're still looking for it." Zoro said.
"Yes." Yoroimusha answered. "Because failing once doesn't mean the story's over."
The two of them looked at each other for a long stretch of seconds. A quiet understanding passed between them, one that didn't need any more words.
At the same time, over at Sir Nighteye's agency, Midoriya had woken early too.
He stood in the empty training hall, dressed in workout clothes, running through slow warm ups. His face stayed calm, but his eyes carried an unusual level of focus.
Since yesterday, he hadn't been able to stop thinking about Eri. Every time he remembered her trembling, a fresh anger rose in his chest. Not anger at anyone specific. Anger at himself. At his own weakness.
Mirio walked into the hall a few minutes later, still dripping sweat from an earlier morning session.
"Midoriya!" He smiled despite the exhaustion. "You're up early."
"I want to be ready." Midoriya said it with real seriousness.
Mirio paused and studied him for a moment. "Ready for what?"
"Anything." Midoriya lifted his eyes. "So I don't freeze up again."
Mirio didn't say anything, but a quiet smile crossed his face. He knew that feeling well.
A few hours later, everyone gathered in the main briefing room at Nighteye's agency.
The table sat covered in maps and blueprints, the screen displaying the vault's internal layout. Yoroimusha stood beside the screen while the heroes and trainees took their seats.
Nighteye started without any preamble. "We've pulled every possible piece of data from Yoroimusha. The old facility consists of a visible ground floor and a wide underground vault, split into three main sections: the eastern section for storage, the middle section for corridors, and the western section for private chambers."
Yoroimusha pointed to specific spots on the layout. "The main entrance on the ground floor is under external surveillance. But there are two rear entrances that used to be used for smuggling. One partially collapsed. The other's still passable."
"Any idea if they've reinforced them?" Rock Lock asked.
"Certainly." Yoroimusha answered. "They're not stupid. There'll be guards, maybe traps too. But they're still better options than the front entrance."
Fat Gum cut in. "So our plan: outside team secures the perimeter and handles any resistance at the front entrance, while the inside team breaches through the rear and pushes toward the western section."
"And that's the most sensitive part." Nighteye continued. "The western section holds the private chambers. Based on our intel, Eri's there."
Kirishima raised a hand. "What about the students? Are we in on this?"
Nighteye hesitated for a second, then answered firmly. "After assessing your readiness, it's been decided that a number of you will be allowed to participate, under the direct supervision of your respective agencies." He paused, then began assigning names in a tone that left no room for argument. "Ryukyu leads her team with Nejire, Uraraka, and Tsuyu. Fat Gum takes Tamaki and Kirishima with him. As for me, I'll bring Eraser Head, Bubble Girl, Centipeder, Midoriya, and Mirio with me." He finally looked toward Zoro and Yoroimusha. "And Yoroimusha will handle one of the infiltration routes inside the facility. Zoro moves with him."
Uraraka and Tsuyu traded a quick glance, then Uraraka gave a nervous smile. She knew this was a real mission, not a drill.
Aizawa added in his calm voice. "Being chosen isn't an honor. It's a responsibility. Whoever enters that vault faces real danger. If the leadership gives an order to fall back, you fall back immediately."
Everyone went quiet. The weight of those words settled over the room.
Zoro crossed his arms, showing nothing on his face. He'd already known he was going in. But now he was officially part of Yoroimusha's route, not just an observer along for the ride.
After the meeting ended, Uraraka and Tsuyu approached Ryukyu.
"Ryukyu san." Uraraka said it seriously. "We're ready."
Ryukyu looked at them with quiet pride. "I know. That's why I picked you. Stay close to me during the operation. Don't act alone. This isn't a typical rescue mission."
Tsuyu nodded. "We'll do what needs doing."
On the other side of the room, Zoro stood alone in front of the layout, tracing the routes Yoroimusha had marked.
"Memorizing it?" Yoroimusha's voice came from behind him.
"Not all of it." Zoro answered without turning. "But enough."
"Your job in there won't just be fighting." Yoroimusha said. "Once we're in, we'll need to move fast and clean. I'm counting on you to watch my back."
Zoro turned to face him. "Don't worry about that. Nobody's touching you."
"It's not about me." Yoroimusha clarified. "It's about the mission. If we get in there, don't let chasing that blade make you forget why we came."
Zoro looked at him steadily. "I won't forget."
"Good." Yoroimusha lifted his hand off his shoulder. "Because whoever forgets the mission in a place like that..."
He paused for a beat.
"Becomes part of the enemy's trap themselves."
Far away, inside a sealed room in one of the abandoned buildings on the city's outskirts, the air sat cold.
Kai Chisaki sat on one side of the steel table, his white gloves as clean as ever. Tomura Shigaraki walked in with slow steps and stopped in front of him. Behind him stood Twice, carrying his usual nervous energy, and Toga, her bright eyes never settling. Beside Chisaki, Chronostasis stood motionless.
This meeting felt nothing like their last one.
Neither of them needed any introductions.
Both knew exactly who sat across from them.
Shigaraki stared at Chisaki for a few seconds, then spoke. "So. Here we are again."
Chisaki answered coldly. "You're the one who called this meeting."
Shigaraki's mouth pulled into a faint smile. "True. Last time, you came to us with your offer." His hand paused briefly at his neck before he added, "This time, I'm the one bringing something."
Nothing about Chisaki suggested interest. "And what could you possibly offer me?"
"Information." Shigaraki said the word slowly. "The heroes know your new location. And that's not all. Yoroimusha's helping them."
Chisaki's face hardened behind the mask.
"You already know that much." Shigaraki continued. "But you've got another problem too."
"Zoro." Chisaki said it flatly.
"Exactly." Shigaraki's smile deepened. "I know that swordsman well. He's been a real headache for us more than once."
Chisaki went quiet for a moment. He knew Shigaraki never spoke without a reason. "What are you proposing?"
"I'll send you something that might solve your problem with him." Shigaraki said it slowly. "Something built for exactly one purpose. Fighting."
"What is it?"
Shigaraki smiled. "You'll find out when it arrives."
Silence held for a few moments before Chisaki spoke. "Do you trust me?"
"No." Shigaraki answered immediately.
"Good." Chisaki said it coldly. "Feeling's mutual."
Shigaraki's smile spread slow. "Overhaul. You've got a problem with the heroes. I've got a problem with you. But sometimes, one problem can solve two."
"And if your help ends up bringing my organization down?" Chisaki asked.
"I'll chalk that up to an unfortunate outcome. Nothing more." Shigaraki said it simply, then turned to leave. "The decision's yours. But the offer won't stay open forever."
The two of them held a long look, then Shigaraki left with the others behind him.
Once they'd gone, Chronostasis turned to Chisaki. "Do you trust him?"
"No." Chisaki answered coldly. "But not trusting him doesn't mean I can't use him."
Shigaraki walked in silence between the abandoned buildings, a small smile barely visible on his lips.
Overhaul's success meant nothing to Shigaraki.
And if this whole operation turned into a disaster that brought Shie Hassaikai crashing down entirely, that might actually work out better.
What mattered was that the raid would pull everyone into the same place at once.
As for the swordsman, whatever he'd sent would take care of that.
Elsewhere, inside a secret facility overseen by League members, a steel door sat shut.
One of the League's men stood in front of it, hand resting on the control panel.
"You're sure about sending this thing out?"
Shigaraki's voice came through the phone. "Just open the door."
The lock released.
White lights flickered on inside the room.
A body stood in the center of it, completely still.
Beside it, a long sheath lay set out with care.
The body didn't move.
Then its eyes opened.
Shigaraki smiled when the confirmation reached him.
"Let's see how long this swordsman lasts."
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