Izuku is sitting at the counter of a bar, staring down at a picture of himself- or rather, at a picture of his actual body-and wishing that he could sink into the floor. The picture is from the Sports Festival, Izuku's eyes narrowed and focused, his arm already badly broken. His eyes trace his face, and his stomach knots itself into even more intricate shapes as he wonders if he'll ever have that body again. He knows it's highly likely that this shift is temporary, and worrying about it is useless at this point, but his mind keeps returning to this issue with an incessant feeling of panic building in his chest. It's not helping him stay calm, that's for sure.
"Ooh, isn't that the infamous Izuku-chan?" The blonde-haired girl from earlier chirps, leaning closer and closer to Izuku until it's at the point where he can smell the faint tinge of iron from her clothing. It's probably from blood, he thinks bleakly, pointedly not looking up at her as he keeps his gaze on the tablet. "He's so cute! Why would you put him in the kill list, Tomura? He's too cute to be killed! I can only imagine what he'd look like with a lot more blood," she continues, sighing wistfully.
Izuku tries his best to not look like he is scooting away from her in his seat, but that is precisely what he is doing at the moment, not liking the look in her eyes one bit.
"Now now, Himiko Toga, don't get distracted. We're not after that one," Kurogiri speaks up from behind the counter, purple mist flickering slightly. The girl- Himiko, Izuku corrects, glad to have a name at last- sighs, but hops up onto the seat next to him. Kurogiri nods, setting down the glass he has been cleaning. "Shigaraki Tomura, do you wish to be the one to go over the battle plans?"
Izuku glances towards him, mind blank. Battle plans? If he knew what plans Shigaraki has in store, he wouldn't have done something so stupidly risky as coming to this meeting. "You go ahead," he says instead. "You can explain it better to these…" People? Villains? What's a word Shigaraki would use, anyways? "…Players better than I can. I don't have the patience to go over everything again."
Kurogiri's mist flickers once, but the man calmly nods. "Of course. Then, I'm sure everyone here knows that U.A. is having their summer training camp soon, correct?" He waits long enough that several people nod, and then continues. "We plan on attacking the camp while they have their guard down, damaging the reputation of U.A. permanently while also grabbing a few assets."
"Assets?" A guy asks from where he is leaning against the wall in the corner. His eyes are a piercing blue, but what really stands out to Izuku is his patchwork skin dotted over with silver staples. "Since we're not attacking the actual school, I'm assuming you mean kidnapping."
"That is correct," Kurogiri affirms.
Izuku's eyes dart back to the tablet in front of him, using a single finger to scroll over to study the other list, which is much smaller than the one his photo is in. He pauses, drawing back in surprise, as he attempts to understand the connotations of what this means for the face staring back at him. He tries to swallow even though his mouth is painfully dry. "Bakugou Katsuki," he says, the words tasting foreign on his tongue. Oddly enough, it feels like he's watching his body from above because he feels numb and nauseous at the same time. "We're taking Bakugou Katsuki from U.A."
"Yes, as you requested, he's one of our two targets. The other one, a pro hero that goes by the handle of Ragdoll, is requested by someone else that works in the upper levels of this organization," Kurogiri says. He picks up another glass, calmly cleaning it. "Shigaraki, can you pass the photos around so everyone can see our two intended targets?"
No, Izuku wants to say. No, you can't see them because you're not getting them, not if I can help it. But he can't, he can't, because he's at the mercy of the villains in this room, and he's never felt more helplessly angry than he is in this moment. So, resisting the urge to clutch the tablet in his hands and watch it turn into dust, he wordlessly picks it up with three fingers and passes it to Himiko.
As the tablet is passed from hand to hand, Izuku tries to see which members of the League of Villains he recognizes, or at least tries to guess their quirks. There's an uncomfortable amount in the room, and Izuku is reminded yet again that he is in way over his head.
He's familiar with Kurogiri and, more recently, Himiko Toga, who probably has some kind of illusion or shapeshifting quirk. Invisibility could also be a possibility, but with how she phrased her earlier off-putting comment, he strongly suspects a shapeshifting ability.
The guy leaning against the wall that had just spoken looks… familiar. Izuku can't say for sure, but he feels like he's seen those eyes somewhere before, but that's ridiculous, because there's no way he could forget someone with that much scarring. The scars look almost like burns, but oddly evened out and made a stylistic choice, and Izuku wonders if someone did this to him or he did it to himself. Both answers have more questions behind them that Izuku isn't sure he wants to hear the answer to.
Beside him is a reptilian guy with brightly colored clothes and lots of bandages. In fact, now that Izuku is looking, between his pants, bandages, and red scarf, he sees a resemblance to Stain's clothes that is too similar to be a mere coincidence.
His gaze lands on one, a tall, muscular man in a tanktop sitting with his arms crossed. He looks bored, but there's something calculating in his single eye; the other one is robotic, clearly due to the large scar that stretches across his face. Izuku tries not to stare, but he could have sworn he recognizes him from somewhere. A news report? An article? He's not sure. It bothers him, but he hopes that once he escapes he can search online and be able to remember who it is.
There are others; a figure with a mask and an orange trench coat wearing a top hat, a muscular person with sunglasses and red hair, a man wearing a skintight black and white bodysuit, a person with a gasmask and a slim body – that one's probably a gas related quirk-, among others. But none seem to command the same presence, at the moment, that the other ones hold. Izuku guesses that some of the other villains are newer here, or are less of a central part of the organization, since they don't appear to be paying as much attention to Kurogiri. One of the ones that isn't paying attention looks like he's in a straight jacket that covers his entire body, and it's clear just from looking that he's barely lucid. There's about a dozen villains here though, and they all must be powerful. He can;t gleam much more info from then, but he notes any small hints from their clothing or mannerisms that could be used for identifying them later. Izuku then shifts, his gaze drifting back to the bartender in question, trying to focus on what he was saying.
"Our spy should have the location soon, and I will update everyone with the plans then." Kurogiri nods, setting down the glass. "Muscular, since you're a well-known target, I have arranged a disguise to at least get you onto the sight without your advantage being discarded before you even begin. Please wear it."
The man with the robotic eye- Muscular- scowls. Right, Kurogiri had mentioned Muscular earlier, hadn't he? "Really? It's not like I'm going to be holding back at all against those brats, I'm looking for an actual fight here, not tip-toeing around like a pansy trying to keep my name unknown. There's no point in a disguise."
"Are you willing to risk the chance to fight at all over it?" Kurogiri replies, golden eyes narrowing. Muscular's scowl deepens, but he looks away, and Kurogiri nods. "Excellent. Well then, anything to add, Shigaraki?"
"Uh," Izuku stutters. He dislikes cussing, as he's always viewed it as somewhat bad for a hero that wants everyone- regardless of age- to look up to, but at this moment that's not the look he's trying to go for at all. Well, if he's going to do this, he's going to commit. "Just do your jobs properly and don't fuck it up."
The cussing makes him feel much like he's wearing an ill fitting jacket, but it seems to do the trick. Rule one for impersonating Shigaraki: add copious amounts of cussing, Izuku notes. One by one, the villains nod and slink off towards a door that is on the opposite side of the room from where he entered.
An exit.
Izuku is standing before he even registers he's moved, and he also heads over to the exit.
One of the villains is standing there, cold blue eyes staring down at Izuku as he approaches. "Aren't you acting strange today," the villain comments, and suddenly there's something about the hard set of his shoulders, of his calm voice, of his blue eyes, that screams Endeaver in a way that Izuku isn't comfortable of thinking about.
Izuku tries to step around him, but the villain follows, a challenging smirk on his face. "Am I getting in your way, boss?" Izuku stares back at him. He's taller than Shigaraki, and his eyes don't waver for a second as he leans forwards. "Tell me, do you really think kidnapping a teenager is going to help us? I understand attacking the school and all, but I doubt anyone from U.A. is interested in joining us, or even worth the effort."
"Why wouldn't it be?" Izuku asks back, coming to a standstill. His skin crawls, but he doesn't scratch it. Instead he concentrates, trying to remember every detail of his conversation with Shigaraki. What would he think the objectives here are? "If it moves us any closer to the checkpoint, isn't that a good enough reason?" He licks his cracked lips, the slight pain helping him focus. "Besides, doing this will horrify the heroes. After hitting them not once, not twice, but three times when they think they are secure? What do you think that will do to their moral?" He says, and oh, Izuku can imagine what it will do to their moral. He can imagine it so clearly that it's like he's already there, watching it happen and hearing his classmates scream in pain and terror. He grits his teeth, lifting his chin up. "Aren't you interested in that?"
Blue eyes narrow in thought, and the burned villain looks like he's about to say something before shrugging. "True, I suppose I can see how taking one of those brats could help, actually. Don't worry, I won't disappoint you when I'm in the field. Our goals are almost perfectly aligned right now, after all, and I still have to show my thanks for that monster you gave me."
"You-" Izuku starts, but the villain has already turned and started to leave, opening the door and exiting with only a single glance back, expression amused. Izuku stares after him, confused, before he blinks and remembers he has somewhere to be. He starts to quickly follow, his footsteps speeding up, and he reaches for the door himself.
"Shigaraki," Kurogiri says sharply, and suddenly he is standing in front of Izuku, blocking his way. "You're still needed here. We can't risk you going out alone again so close to the mission."
"What? What does it matter if I go get some air? The mission isn't for several days; I'm not going to go to the other side of the world," Izuku protests. He tries to step around Kurogiri, but the villain shifts, effectively blocking him with each step. Yellow eyes stare down at him.
"Please, Shigaraki. Don't make this difficult," he starts to say, when a speaker crackles to life in the bar behind them.
"Actually, Tomura, I would like a word," Izuku hears, and he slowly turns, staring at a television screen with no image. It's like the world is softly dialed back to black and white, and abruptly there is only the soft sound of the speaker's feedback, the man speaking, and Izuku himself.
Because there's only one person that can be. One person that Izuku isn't ready to face, doesn't know how to face, and even if he did, he had always expected it to happen with One for All blazing in his grasp.
"All for One," Izuku says softly. His mouth has gone dry, and he thinks his lips have cracked because he tastes the familiar tang of blood.
He could make a run for it. And yet, how far will he make it? Kurogiri is still standing there, and with his quirk alone Izuku is facing a huge hurdle. And now that All for One is here, Izuku doesn't know how many or which quirks are currently trained on him, pointed like a gun posed to shoot fish in a barrel. Izuku wants to scream, wants to see All Might and hold onto him and ask him what to do because this is too soon, and he is not ready.
He squeezes his eyes shut, taking a deep breath of the scent of death and decay, and opens his red eyes. "Of course, All for One-sensei, you know I could never refuse you," he says, forcing his voice not to shake. "What would you like to discuss?"
"Not here," the mastermind's voice replies. "Kurogiri, please open a warp portal to my location for Tomura. I doubt it will be a long discussion, so I will call you again after our talk is complete."
"Of course," Kurogiri responds, bowing. A black warp opens up in front of Izuku, and he stares at it. He's hyper aware of the door behind him, and a voice inside of him says to run while he can because his luck won't hold out forever. His hand twitches, reaching up slightly to feel for the doorknob, but All for One's voice crackles over the speakers again.
"Now, Tomura, if you please. Don't keep me waiting."
There will be a chance after this, Izuku tells himself desperately. There must be, somehow, somewhere, the villains will slip up. They'll take their eyes off of him soon, if he can just keep up this front for a little bit longer. All Might is strong enough to be able to smile in the face of danger, and as his student, even if the effect of the smile is different, surely Izuku should be able to do the same thing.
Izuku pastes on a crooked grin, lowers his hand, and takes a step further into the darkness.
The second the teacher's footsteps fade out of the classroom's hearing range, voices explode around Tomura.
"Okay, what's wrong with you?" Bakugou asks roughly, twisting around in his seat. The student's eyes are a red that Tomura only now notices are quite similar to his own. The similarity is further enhanced by how they're currently glaring, a rage and annoyance reflecting back at Tomura that he is quite familiar with himself.
Tomura scowls, crossing his arms. "I don't know what you mean."
"You cussed. At a teacher. Not to mention a pro hero! Am I the only one that finds that fucking weird?" Bakugou demands, his hands sparking as small explosions go off.
"Are you one to talk?" Tomura asks, giving the angry teenager a cursory once over. "You cuss and act this way all the time. You're doing it now. It's not a big deal. Fuck off."
"What- I- You're trying to derail the conversation, Deku. Answer the question!" Bakugou snaps.
Tomura raises his eyebrows, leaning forwards on his desk as he takes in Bakugou's blazing red eyes. Deku? Isn't that Midoriya's hero name? For whatever reason, it sounds different with Bakugou's emphasis on it. Almost like a derogatory comment. Was Bakugou trying to start a fight here? Tomura wants to laugh in his face. How very unheroic! He knew that this teen would make a good fit for the League of Villains, and here he is, proving Tomura right. Putting more and more points into villain attributes despite saying he wants to make the hero class. Tomura grins, baring a confident smile at Bakugou and shrugging. "You know, Bakugou, I think you'd make a pretty good villain."
Bakugou's face goes still for a moment, eyes widening, and the entire classroom seems to go silent the second Tomura says those words. Tomura swallows, feeling his grin falter, as his fingers nervously twitch. One of his hands slowly rises to his neck and he scratches, the sound amplified in the silent room.
Luckily the moment is quickly ended when Bakugou slams his hands down on Tomura's desk, burn marks already appearing, and starts yelling profanities at him, but it's too late: Tomura's messed up, saying that. That is not something that Midoriya Izuku, idiotic aspiring hero, would ever say to someone. Shit. That was one of his three lives wasn't it? He doesn't want a game over so soon. He'd never hear the end of it from Sensei, or worse, what if he fails in Sensei's eyes?
No, no, no, that won't do. That won't do at all.
"Bakugou-kun!" Glasses says, the girl from earlier and a boy with red hair all close behind him. "That is not appropriate language or behavior towards a fellow student!" Tomura smirks at Bakugou's expression, but glasses' head snaps over to stare him down as well. "And you, Midoriya! I expected this of Bakugou, due to his unfortunate tendencies, but, regardless of how bad a day you may be having, that comment was also not proper hero behavior at all!"
"It came out wrong. I am…" Sorry? No, he's not, not even remotely. "I didn't mean to say that. I took it too far," Tomura says flatly. "Just forget it happened."
"Maybe you should go to see Recovery Girl," the girl presses on. "Or ask to be excused for the day? It's clear you don't feel good."
"I already said-" Tomura starts to hiss, but the door swings open and Eraserhead appears, looking tired and detached. Everyone immediately quiets down, watching attentively as the hero enters the room.
Is that scar by his eye Tomura's work? It's enough to distract him from his foul mood as he feels his lips tug upwards a bit, and he leans his face into his palm to hide his smile.
"We're having a training exercise after lunch," Eraserhead drones. "Get your athletic clothes on and meet me outside at field eight at the start of the period. Don't be late."
"Aw man, after lunch? I'm going to puke," a boy whines, Eraserhead not even acknowledging the comment.
"We aren't having a closing ceremony?" The girl beside Tomura asks, and Eraserhead shoots her a deadpan expression.
"No."
The bell chimes, and some of the other students start shoving books into backpacks and noisily getting up, although none actually left, lingering by the door as Tomura can feel their stares in his general direction.
"Well, shall we go to lunch then?" Ingenium's brother asks, adjusting the glasses on his face. The girl with him nods, and they turn to Tomura, waiting.
"Go on ahead," he mutters, not interested in playing this ridiculous good student farce for any longer than necessary. "I have some stuff I need to do." He gets up, shoving his way past the other students. Exiting the room, he wanders away from the other students to go search for the teacher's lounge without glancing back, when he sees movement out of the corner of his eye.
"And pray tell me, Midoriya, what it is that's so important for you to do?" Eraserhead asks, crossing his arms and studying Tomura. "A word, please."
"What?" Tomura snaps. "You as well? What do you want?"
Eraserhead raises an eyebrow. "I just said what I wanted. Clearly something is going on with you today, so since you seem to have already elected to skip lunch, it gives us some time to talk."
"But- You can't… fine," Tomura grits out, hands curling into fists. Two lives left, he reminds himself. He can't be wasting his time, but this must be an unskippable cut scene. Annoying, but unfortunately required for his progress. "What is it?"
Eraserhead glances down the hall. "Perhaps not here. Let's take this discussion to the teacher's lounge."
The hero leads the way, Tomura trailing behind as he scans the halls for All Might's hulking eyesore of a body. They arrive in front of a room, and Eraserhead holds the door open with a simple pointed look. Tomura is only slightly focused on that pro hero though, still searching the hallway. No, no, he's not there, where was he? Did he decide to skip the last day of school? What a cheap fucking move to make-
"Ah, young Midoriya! I actually wanted a word with you!" A deep, unmistakable voice greets.
Tomura goes rigid. Slowly he looks over, seeing none other than the Symbol of Peace himself lounging on a sofa inside the room. He can't help but smile slightly, one hand instinctually rising to scratch at his bandages on his neck. Ah, here it is. The game's main plot has finally begun.
Tomura starts to move to go over to All Might, but Eraserhead shuts the door and steps in front of him. "All Might," he greets coolly. "I need to have a quick private talk with Midoriya, so would you mind stepping out for a few minutes? This shouldn't take long."
All Might's smile seems to diminish for a few seconds, the bright blue eyes turning to Tomura to stare at him with an intensity that made Tomura wonder if he's imagining it. "Oh? What about? Has young Midoriya done something wrong?"
Why the interest? Tomura shifts, every cell alert in his borrowed body. Was All Might this nosy about all of his students? It could be that Midoriya's similar quirk has raised interest in him, not to mention the disgustingly clear adoration of All Might. Which means that Midoriya must look at All Might like he's Sensei which is-
Eugh. What a repulsive thought. No way is Tomura going to do that.
"Nothing major," Eraserhead says coolly. "It's between Midoriya and me, anyways. No need to worry, All Might, I have it under control. I am also Midoriya's teacher, so trust that I have his best interests in mind."
"Er… yes, of course." All Might nods. "Didn't mean to sound like I questioned your judgment or anything, of course! Well then," the fake hero's eyes sought out Tomura's again, and All Might nods at him. "I'll catch you later then, my boy."
"Yes. You will," Tomura promises, eyes narrowing at the hero as he fails to completely hide the pleased grin on his face. "Count on it."
All Might nods again, and – even by Tomura's standards- awkwardly excuses himself as he leaves the room.
Tomura watches him go, lost in thought, when Eraserhead loudly clears his throat. "Take a seat, Midoriya."
The teacher watches him, eyebags dark and face expressionless. Or perhaps there is some expression, but the thing is, Tomura doesn't care. He doesn't want to take a seat and listen, he wants to attack him, wants to dig his fingernails into his throat and have his quirk back so he can finish what he's started, but All Might is right here in his grasp and why is everything so frustrating.
He plops into the sofa with crossed arms and scowls. "Okay. What."
"I heard some of your conversation with Bakugou when I was in the hallway," Eraserhead says. "Not hard to do, when everyone is making such a racket but." Tomura shifts, staring sullenly down at his bright red shoes. Is this going to be a lecture? Is Eraserhead suspicious? His foot taps, and he can't help but shift as his skin itches.
"Midoriya. Are you sure you don't need a therapist?"
"I- what?" Tomura's head jerks up, unable to hide his surprise. This wasn't what he was expecting at all. "A- why the fu- no. I'm fine." He squares his shoulders. "Why would you think I needed something useless like that?"
A therapist? Really? Over- over what, his five-minute encounter with Midoriya at the mall? Are heroes so weak that they need to- to talk out their issues over ridiculously simple things that shouldn't even matter? No wonder Sensei says that Tomura is strong. He's never needed to discuss something like his feelings with anyone. He's perfectly fine the way he is, and he's gone through much worse than some NPC like Midoriya.
Eraserhead, however, looks less convinced than Tomura that what he had just said was a ridiculous suggestion. "It's not useless." He leans forwards, dark gaze serious. "Midoriya, you are a student. Part of what you need to learn here is when to take care of yourself. Whether it be physically," and his eyes dart down pointedly to Tomura's hands, the ones with scars on them. "Or mentally. From the sounds of it, you're not okay from the scare you had at the mall over the weekend. If you're truly struggling, then talking it out- finding ways to cope- are just as important as other types of training."
"I don't need it," Tomura grits out. He knows that Eraserhead isn't even talking to him, he thinks he's talking to Midoriya about Midoriya's problems, but at the same time something about a hero telling him he needs help rankles him. He doesn't like the feeling at all.
Eraserhead stares at him for a moment longer and then nods. "Very well. Then, moving on; I hope you do know that, even though you did have a rough time recently, that gives you no excuse to take it out on others. Calling someone a villain was an action not suitable for an aspiring hero. I am aware that Iida already discussed this with you, but, as your teacher, I felt it important to address here and now. I won't tolerate this kind of behavior, understand?"
What the hell? It's not like Tomura just told Bakugou that with no context at all. Tomura hadn't said anything that hadn't been true, after all. "And what about Bakugou?" Tomura demands, rising to his feet and flexing his hands. "He clearly started it. Is that your fucking idea of heroic behavior? Is this a hero's idea of fair?"
"Midoriya." Eraserhead doesn't move, but the look in his eyes shifts. "I fully have plans to address Bakugou's behavior at a latter point, but-"
"You have no right to preach to me," Tomura snaps. He shakes his head. "No. No, I'm done- this is stupid, stupid- I'm leaving." He stalks towards the door, ignoring the quiet threats from behind him, and loudly slams the door shut as he leaves.
Tomura stands there for a moment, chest heaving, as he turns slightly to look back over his shoulder. He's not pursued, but the victory feels meaningless, and there's this hollow sensation in his chest that pulses slightly as he stands there. He shifts, head swiveling as he seeks out any hint of where All Might has gone, but he can't see anything obvious. The trail has run cold. Tomura bites his lip, tasting the tang of blood, and then whirls, punching the wall hard enough for it to hurt.
"Fuck!" he snaps in the quiet hallway. His hands go to his pockets, searching for Father – and talking to Father is different, different, Tomura is strong-, but they come up empty and all he can do his grit his teeth and try not to scream. This is hard, it's stupidly fucking hard, and he should just call it a game over already and go home, he knows it. But Sensei hasn't given him any actual info, and he's not sure if this is a test or- or- whatever. He runs a hand through his weirdly curly hair, eyes dilated and breath still refusing to return to any semblance of a consistent rhythm.
"…Fuck."
