CHAPTER IV
"Show yourself coward, I can feel your bloodlust from here," the Hero Killer commanded to the seemingly empty air of the alleyway.
The villain's eyes were focused in the general direction of the killing intent he felt, but it was radiating outwards so much that he was unable to pinpoint the exact location it originated from. He didn't have to wait long though; a small figure slowly stepped out from behind a large garbage container, partially silhouetted by the light coming from the street behind him. The villain was underwhelmed and a little confused at what he was seeing. Small and thin stature, messy white hair, doll like features, and large blue eyes radiating bloodlust. It was just a kid; he looked delicate and innocent aside from those soulless, evil eyes. It was pretty off putting to say the least. Nevertheless, the boy wasn't a target of the Hero Killer.
"Get lost kid, I'm only after heroes right now," the man spoke dismissively, but he didn't relax a muscle.
"Well I'm in the mood to kill someone," the creepy boy replied with a strangely disturbing expression on his face. "So I think I'll stay."
"Look," the Hero Killer said, trying to reason with the boy. "I'm a busy guy. Heroes won't kill themselves unfortunately. I don't have time for this. Run along before I-"
The older man never got a chance to finish as the white haired kid disappeared into thin air, halting the man mid-sentence. His instincts were suddenly screaming at him to move as he caught a glimpse of the kid in his peripheral vision. A hot pain seared through his side as he leapt away, the kid's extended arm now covered in a small spattering of the Hero Killer's blood.
"Good reflexes," the boy nonchalantly complimented, "I was aiming for your kidney."
"What the fuck, kid?" the noseless man exclaimed. He'd met his fair share of strange people before but he wasn't sure if he'd ever met a kid this creepy. He was lucky the wound he had just received was superficial; the boy was aiming to incapacitate him.
"Kidneys are worth a lot of money after all," the boy dawdled on. "And I could really go for some sweets right now. Like a lot of sweets."
And with that odd statement, the white haired child launched himself at the Hero Killer. They traded a few hand to hand blows but the older man was still unwilling to fight seriously against a kid who had nothing to do with heroes. It wasn't until the boy threw him over his small shoulder and slammed him onto the ground that the Hero Killer was finally annoyed enough to fight back.
"All right kid you're asking for it," he growled as he threw three small knives at the boy. The pale boy easily dodged two and the third managed to graze his cheek but that was all. The knives embedded themselves in the wall behind the child.
The villain decided the best strategy would be to just paralyze the boy, give him a short lecture on convictions, and leave. Although the Hero Killer was just as willing to terminate villains without real conviction as he was heroes, he was not as fast to pass judgement on children who were still young and impressionable. In order to change a society, you had to strike the hearts of the children and teens after all. Adults were too set in their ways and not liable to see the error in their thinking, but young people were still able to change their ways with the right guidance.
The noseless man made a move to get behind the boy and grab the knife that had drawn blood but he was intercepted by said boy, who was now brandishing clawed fingertips. The kid was giving him a bloodthirsty, feral grin. What the hell was wrong with this boy?
The older man was given no more time to think as he was forced to duck under a jab. He lashed out with his own in return but the boy bent backwards to avoid the knife the Hero Killer had quickly drawn from a sheath on his side. The villain tried to sweep the boy's feet from under him but the white haired kid gracefully let his momentum take him into a back handspring and he landed a few feet away from the older man.
The boy jumped right back in and the villain was forced on the defensive. The pale kid threw a series of quick punches before launching himself into a spinning kick aimed at the Hero Killer's neck. The man blocked the kick with his forearm and grunted, not expecting so much power to be contained in such a small body.
The blocked kick left the boy's defenses open, and the man finally got a chance to counterattack. He managed to land a knee in the kid's gut, and simultaneously shot out an arm, his knife seeking flesh. Despite having the air forced out of his lungs, the boy was still able to narrowly avoid the knife and leap backwards a few paces to catch his breath.
The Hero Killer took note of the blood dripping down the kid's pale cheek from the cut he'd suffered and formulated a quick plan. Straightening himself back up and sheathing his weapon, he addressed his young opponent in an attempt to disrupt his focus.
"You're wasting your potential," the villain berated out of nowhere. The boy furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, a small spark of intelligence surfacing in his dulled eyes.
"Senseless, petty murder is despicable," the Hero Killer lectured.
The boy opened his mouth to retort, but in his distraction the larger man had closed the gap between the two and pinned the boy's smaller arms to his sides before he knew it was happening.
The man leaned in, tongue seeking the thin trail of blood on the boy's cheek. But before he could make contact, he was suddenly dazed as the pale kid slammed the back of his head into the Hero Killer's face. The man let out a surprised grunt and involuntarily loosened his grip, allowing the boy to wretch himself away.
Before either could attack again, an unknown voice interrupted the fight.
"Hey! What's the commotion back here?" A harsh male voice pierced through the thin alleyway. The two turned their heads in unison to see who was interrupting them. It was a policeman, standing at the entrance of the alleyway and blocking their escape to the street. The officer's eyes widened once he took in his surroundings. His eyes flickered between the crazy looking man who seemed to be assaulting a child and the discarded body of the hero laying face down on the street. The policeman visibly swallowed, evidently on edge. He drew his gun and slowly began advancing towards the two standing amidst the carnage.
"Step away from the boy," the officer commanded, but his voice quivered slightly at the end.
The Hero Killer felt a twinge of annoyance seeing as the policeman had automatically blamed him, the adult, for the situation and not even considered that the child was the one to initiate the fight. Then again, the villain was the one who killed the hero, so that assumption was probably the most logical one.
The villain glanced down at the boy next to him and noticed that his previously soulless eyes were suddenly bright, filled with annoyance much like the Hero Killer's own. The noseless man heard the kid swear under his breath before he suddenly blurred in the direction of the officer. The Hero Killer was just barely able to track the boy's movements as he traveled almost instantaneously across the expanse of the alleyway. The next thing the villain knew the policeman's head was separated from his body, which began to spurt blood like a fountain. The disembodied head fell to the stone floor with a faint thud and the body collapsed, the gun clattering loudly onto the ground.
The boy appeared back by the Hero Killer's side, his face lightly spattered with fresh blood. His eyes were sharp and alert now, a stark contrast to his previous state.
"Way to ruin my fun," the boy grumbled. "I like being able to walk around the city freely so I can't let the police connect crime to me." He shoved his hands into his pockets moodily, practically a completely different person than he was a minute ago. Catlike cerulean eyes met crimson as the boy leveled the hero Killer with a stare for a moment and said, "Good fight old man, but I'm out. Not trying to get caught." The boy broke the stare and turned to walk deeper into the alleyway which met a different street.
The Hero Killer blinked in consternation. Never mind the fact that he just witnessed the boy murder someone, something about this whole situation seemed eerily familiar to the red eyed villain. The kid just gave off a certain vibe that he couldn't shake. Was it his looks? His ruthless fighting style? His bored attitude? Maybe it was the way he just effortlessly beheaded a law enforcement officer. Oh that was definitely it.
The boy had made it to the edge of the alley and was about to turn the corner but the Hero Killer called out to him, "Wait!"
The kid paused, but didn't look back.
"It's you, isn't it?" the older man asked. "The serial killer who beheads his victims and leaves without a trace of ever being there in the first place."
The boy tensed, almost imperceptibly, but the Hero Killer still noticed it.
"You're The Ghost."
The boy stood still for a moment before the tension left his body and he merely shrugged in attempt to brush the accusation off. "Maybe I am, maybe I'm not. You gonna do anything about it?" he challenged.
Before the older man could respond, loud sirens pierced through the air, growing louder by the second. No doubt other policemen were headed for their current location.
"Let's get out of here and have a little conversation," the noseless man suggested.
The boy didn't reply, just made a small beckoning motion with his hand, and immediately took off at a sprint. The Hero Killer followed close behind.
The policemen arrived just a few seconds after, having gotten a backup call from an officer at this location. However, the only things they found at the scene were the blooded and mangled bodies of the decapitated officer and the hero who was laying by a pool of his own blood. Not a single trace of the killers remained.
Killua situated himself on the roof of an abandoned warehouse in the old and forgotten slums of Tokyo. No self respecting person walked these streets, they were ruled by lowly gangs and small time villains. Police didn't even bother patrolling the area anymore, figuring it was more trouble than it was worth. In other words, a perfect convening point for wanted criminals.
The small assassin sized up the man sitting across from him curiously, noticing the man doing the same to him. Their bodies served as physical antithesis to each other. Killua was small, pale, and doll like while the Hero Killer was tall, dark, and marred. His hunched back and deformed face told many a tale of pain and suffering. Killua showed no such signs, or at least he hid them well. Years of training, fighting, and abuse left his body scarred all over, but many of the marks upon his skin had faded with time or blended in with his skin. The Hero Killer wore his tragedies on his sleeve while Killua hid his away from the world inside his mind.
"What's your name?" Killua finally asked out loud, breaking the tense silence between the two.
"I am Stain the Hero Killer," the older man replied, a distinctly proud note in his voice.
The pale boy rolled his eyes. "Well obviously, you're all over the news. That's not what I'm asking though. What's your name?"
Stain was taken aback by the boy's attitude, and wasn't sure what to say. Nobody had ever asked his real name before, not during his time as Stain at least. Everyone else just asked...why.
Killua gave the shocked man an exasperated look. "It's not a complicated question. I'll go first, my name's Killua. What's yours?"
Still confused, the Hero Killer narrowed his eyes at the boy. "You seemed so concerned about keeping your identity a secret before, why are you revealing yourself to me now?"
The boy leaned back and rested his palms on the dirty floor. "Simple, you're the most wanted criminal in Tokyo right now. You're the last person that would ever snitch to the police on me," the boy spoke in a bored time.
"I could be arrested and reveal your identity to the police," Stain countered, still baffled by the small boy. "Not that I'd allow myself to be captured in the first place."
"You still have your own creed despite being a sociopath," Killua replied easily. "You wouldn't reveal someone who's practically your comrade, that would go against everything you stand for."
Stain raised an eyebrow at the comrade comment (they had just met and the boy had already tried to kill him after all), but ignored it in favor for being slightly offended at the other part of the boy's response. "I'm not a sociopath, everything I do is in the name of justice."
"That's exactly what a sociopath would say," the pale boy deadpanned.
"You're not exactly a saint yourself, Ghost," the Hero Killer spat back, irritated with how easily a child was insulting him.
"Never said I was," Killua replied lazily. "This is all just a job for me though."
The older man blinked in disbelief. The boy had killed 8 people in the past 5 days, including the officer a few minutes ago. That kind of thing didn't happen unless a killer was going on a rampage. No assassin for hire was that reckless. Or so he thought. This was a kid he was dealing with though, which changed things. The Hero Killer was used to dealing with professional heroes and the scum of the villain world. He didn't even know they last time he'd interacted with a child; it was bizarre to say the least.
"You attacked me because you were throwing a tantrum," Stain reminded the boy.
"A tantrum?" Killua exclaimed in horror. "I was just frustrated, seriously..."
"That's exactly what a child throwing a tantrum would say," the Hero Killer replied smoothly, turning Killua's own words against him.
"Fuck off, I'm not a kid. I'm thirteen," Killua grumbled in defeat.
"That's literally a child," Stain reminded him.
"At least I'm not old as dirt like you are."
"Thirty one is hardly old as dirt."
Killua just scoffed as if to say yeah right. He was actually surprised the Hero Killer was only thirty one. He seemed like he was fifty or something.
A short silence washed over the two, neither sure what to say next. Stain ended up taking the initiative, a very big issue on his mind.
"Tell me, why do you kill?" the hunchback asked the boy. "You say it is all for a job. Do you do it for money?" If the boy was vain enough to commit senseless murder just for a pretty penny Stain would gladly put him out of his misery. Greedy heroes and villains alike were targets of his purge.
Killua snorted. "As if. I'm being blackmailed."
That was a new one, the Hero Killer thought to himself in surprise. "What kind of scum feels the need to blackmail a thirteen year old child for such high profile assassinations?" the Hero Killer asked curiously. This was the first occurrence during his time as a self righteous villain that he wasn't able to easily categorize someone's situation and motives as admirable or despicable. This boy was unusual indeed.
Killua gave the man a skeptical glance. "I'd hardly call my targets high profile. Big deal some journalists and information brokers are dead. It's boring honestly."
"You're dodging the question," Stain pointed out.
Killua threw his hands up in defeat. "Fine, I was kidnapped. Can't leave until I kill all the people they want dead. They're morons but I don't have much of a choice. They're my most direct way to get home," the boy spoke with self loathing. Killua spent his entire life under the thumb of his parents and older brothers; all he wanted was to be his own person. His current situation was just a bitter reminder of how powerless he was in the grand scheme of things.
"What is being held against you that is so important you can't just leave?" the older man asked. "With your skill in evasion that shouldn't be a problem whatsoever. You should be taking your life into your own hands and not let others dictate it for you. Especially when it involves convictions you don't believe in."
"It's complicated," the pale boy grumbled in annoyance. "I could easily take them in a fight but then I wouldn't be able to go home."
"So they're using a quirk to keep you here," Stain inferred.
Killua let out a sigh. "Technically. My home is isolated from the rest of the world, somewhere in the far north. Since I was...teleported here, I don't actually know how to return. The people who brought me here are the only ones who know how to send me back." It was partially a lie, but not too much of a stretch. Killua wasn't trying to alienate himself from this world since he had no idea how people would react to the truth. He had no desire to be captured and turned into some kind of specimen or zoo exhibit after all.
"Try threatening the quirk user's life," Stain suggested. "Convictions are best conveyed through forceful actions."
"I would," the white haired boy replied with annoyance. "But I've never even seen him. As idiotic as they are, they know to keep the quirk user away from me."
"So what are you going to do about it?" the older man asked. There was no easy solution, but there were still choices to be made. He hoped that the boy made the right ones. It would be unfortunate to have to kill such a promising talent.
"I'm going to keep playing their game for now," Killua answered. "Kill the targets faster than they can give me new ones until they're drawing a blank and take my opportunity to get out of here. If that doesn't work then I'll defect and have to find my own way home."
Stain was disappointed with that answer. "That's an awful plan," he informed the boy flatly. Whoever was keeping the boy would see his talent and never let him go if they realized just how effective he could be.
The boy sputtered for a moment, offended by his fellow serial killer's brutal honesty. "Well what am I supposed to do?" the boy asked defensively. "I've never been to Japan before five days ago. I don't know anything about this society or the people here."
"Surely you know something about the culture here," Stain replied in disbelief.
"Only what I've read online the past couple days," Killua huffed. "There's no such thing as a hero or a villain where I'm from."
The Hero Killer sat in stunned silence for a moment. The concept of heroes and villains was international. Even developing countries often had a loose sense of societal good and bad. Either this boy was from a place so lawless the only thing that mattered was personal gain, or he was from a land where everyone coexisted without conflict. Although the idea of a utopia was tantalizing, Stain was easily able to judge by the boy's actions and words that he came from the former scenario.
The noseless man let out a short, ironic laugh. It wasn't a pleasant sound. "This entire time I've been judging you based on the cultural norms and fallacies of the typical Hero/Villain society," he told the boy. "And I was at a loss as to why you didn't fit into any particular category. To think that you're just an outsider..." He shook his head. "Tell me, what is it like where you're from?"
Killua rubbed his chin, contemplating for a minute. "Survival of the fittest," the boy finally decided on.
The older man nodded and mentally congratulated himself on guessing correctly.
"Japan is too soft," the Hero Killer said. "You'll be labelled as a monster with that kind of ideology here. Nothing more than a selfish villain."
Killa's eyebrows knitted together. "But the 'heroes' are just as selfish. They enforce strict laws and if you don't follow them you're automatically evil. Aren't they just hypocrites?" Back home, law enforcement was often powerless to stop strong individuals and groups, and wisely stayed out of their business. Everyone fended for themselves and that's just the way it was. It was much more dangerous, but also much more free.
A smile quirked at the edges of Stain's mouth. "Correct, heroes are hypocrites who refuse to see the error of their ways. That's where my purpose stems from. If this society is going to have heroes then they should be true heroes with pure intentions, not the twisted kind with their own selfish intentions." The noseless man leaned in closer to the boy across from him. "Perhaps you'd like to join me. We appear to have similar views on heroes." With both of them working together, they may be nigh impossible to put down. Although using a child would leave a slightly bitter taste in his mouth, Stain could justify that the boy was clearly mature enough to understand the truth of this ugly society. He would be serving a justified cause.
The pale kid just stared back incredulously. "No thanks, I'm not really into fighting battles that have nothing to do with me," he finally replied. "Besides, I was trying to distance myself from a life of killing before I got to this wo- Japan, I mean." Killua cursed internally at his slip up, but luckily the serial killer across from him didn't seem to notice.
"That's a shame, but I can respect your convictions," the Hero Killer acquiesced. "However, should you decide to turn against me, I will not hesitate to end you along with the rest," he ended with menacingly.
The pale boy just gave a 'Hn', apparently not intimidated, and rocked forward to gracefully rise to his feet. He brushed off his hands and clothes of the dust they'd collected and made his way over to the edge of the roof.
"Nice to know there's someone not as idiotic as the heroes or the morons I'm stuck with here," Killua spoke, turning back to look at the Hero Killer. "But I've got other stuff to do today. Maybe I'll see you again later."
The boy placed a foot on the ledge of the building in preparation to leap, but Stain spoke up before he left.
"Akaguro Chizome," the Hero Killer said, finally giving his name. It tasted foreign on his tongue, a name not spoken for a long time. It was a thing he had given up with his humanity long ago. But perhaps a small part of that person still remained under the self imposed justice-seeking villain Stain.
The white haired boy merely gave a slight incline of his head before jumping off the roof and disappearing from sight. However, Chizome did manage to catch a small smile on the boy's side profile as he descended back to earth.
Killua was back to roaming the streets, though this time he was lost in thought for a different reason. He hadn't expected to run into the infamous Hero Killer, he hadn't expected to get caught so soon, and he especially hadn't expected to have a meaningful conversation with the aforementioned serial killer. It was clearly a new experience for both of them, but it also wasn't an unpleasant one. Maybe both of them were just lonely in such a cut and dried society. Either way, Killua reasoned, making allies in a foreign place was a smart move. Especially if he ever decided he was tired of catering to the League and wanted to find his own way home. Luckily he'd memorized Chizome's nen signature so he'd be able to find him again when he wanted to do so.
Nen wasn't the right word choice, Killua corrected himself. This world was strange, everyone here had a life force, but it wasn't the same as nen per se. It was more just a latent aura that nobody had any knowledge of. They all relied on their quirks that they inherited genetically, having no reason to use their own life force. It was probably safer that way too, the boy reasoned. It was just a strange concept to him.
Killua was pulled out of his musings as the phone in his pocket buzzed. He quickly turned on the screen and checked the text he'd just received. It was from the boy who currently had his phone.
I'm so sorry about this again! Let's meet at 4:30 in the same place I ran into you this morning. I hope that isn't a big inconvenience for you!
Killua let out a long sigh. 4:30 was pretty late. No doubt Tomura was going to blow up his phone all day for Killua not responding. Oh well, at least he hadn't saved the manchild's real name in his phone. Tomura had managed to make an infamous name for himself last week during his failed attempt to attack a hero school and kill the #1 hero. Killua had found out that after reading what information he could find on the League of Villains online (some of the articles were actually written by the journalist who was his first kill here) and laughed his ass off. If the green haired student saw a text from someone called Shigaraki Tomura on his phone no doubt he'd go to the police. Killua smirked to himself. It was a good thing he had no respect for the manchild and saved his contact as 'Asshole'.
Not having anything else to do until 4:30 Killua decided it was time to do something he'd been thinking about ever since he'd arrived in Toyko. He'd been busy the other days collecting information and planning his assassinations but without his phone to contact Shigaraki or search for information he had no responsibilities for the rest of the morning and afternoon. It was time for a sweet shop binge.
Killua may be a ruthless assassin, but that never deterred him from his childishly insatiable sweet tooth. When he was 8 he spent the millions he'd made at Heaven's Arena on cake, chocolate, and other sweet snacks. That money lasted him up until the Hunter Exam and unfortunately after that all the money he made went into funding his travels with Gon so there was little room in the budget for his sweet tooth. He'd led a short, lonely life for the most part, but sweets had always been there to comfort him whenever he needed it. Gon and Alluka were great and all, but chocolate balls were really something else.
Unfortunately, the pale boy didn't have millions to spend on sweets today, but he did have a sizable amount of money given to him by Kurogiri. The portal user had explained that the man behind the voice on the screen served as their benefactor, having amassed a large amount of wealth over the many years he'd been alive. He provided for the League of Villains monetarily. Killua wasn't going to question it; it allowed him some freedom to buy things and do what he wanted during the day.
The white haired boy quickly spotted a small bakery across the street and made a beeline for the door. The young girl at the counter was startled by how fast he made his way to the counter and ordered without even looking at the menu.
"I'd like a slice of every cake you have," Killua said with an excited look on his face. To the girl's credit she only paused for a moment before complying with her adorable young customer's request.
Around 4 PM Killua was relaxing in an armchair at a cozy cafe. He let out a contented sound and allowed himself to bask in the moment for a little while. He'd visited five shops throughout the day and each was amazing in its own way. The first shop had been cakes, the second pastries, the third and fourth chocolate, and the last had been a traditional Japanese sweet shop that was a pleasant new experience. This had definitely been the best use of his time since he'd arrived in Tokyo.
Occasionally the phone in his possession would buzz throughout the day as the real phone's owner received texts. There was one from his mom and a couple from a group chat called '1A Mad Lads'. Killua had no qualms over invading others' privacy and shamelessly read the messages as they came in.
The boy's mom was just informing him of dinner so it was pretty mundane. The group chat, however, had a lot of messages that required context Killua didn't know to understand.
1A Mad Lads
Alien Queen: omg this kid is so precious i want to protect him forever
Invisigirl: ikr i want to know how anyone could abandon this kid out on the streets alone
Shitty Hair: its super unmanly ill beat their asses if i ever find the people who did this to him
Whey: yo count me in bro
LORD EXPLOSION MURDER: did you dumbasses ever stop to think that maybe the brat ran away instead?
Falco: That's plausible. He doesn't seem to be troubled about being far from home.
Teacher's Pet: Please refrain from using your phones during class everyone! You're here to learn!
LORD EXPLOSION MURDER: nobody gives a fuck glasses
Shitty Hair: cmon man no need to be rude to him
Shitty Hair: oh shit guys i just got caught by teach pray for me
Alien Queen: lol rip
All Killua could discern was that it was some kind of class group chat. Other than that he really had no idea; even their chat names were inside jokes that he wasn't privy to. The pale boy considered sending a message from the green haired student's phone to see what his code name was but decided against it. That was going a little too far.
The small assassin stood up and stretched before throwing out the many boxes of trash he'd managed to accumulate from his binge eating today. He slid his hands into his pockets and made his way out onto the street, heading in the direction of the meeting place the student had arranged.
Midoriya Izuku frantically checked the time as the train slowed to a stop. It was 4:29. Great, he was about to be late. All Might had wanted to talk to him after class and he couldn't just refuse, so now he was scrambling to make it to the meeting place in time. He also had to turn down the kid with All Might who wanted to hang out with him after school. The boy's pitiful eyes when he got rejected were still fresh on Midoriya's mind. So overall, not a good day.
As soon as the doors slid open the green haired boy took off at a sprint, making his way back to the spot where he'd run into the other boy earlier this morning. A pang of guilt shot through Midoriya as he realized he was inconveniencing the boy even more by being late to their meeting. After all, UA Hero students didn't get out of school until 4:10 and most other schools were finished around an hour earlier. The short glimpse Izuku had gotten of the boy's face had given the impression that he was a middle schooler, so the boy had probably been waiting over an hour after school to get his phone back.
The green haired One for All user took a sharp turn around the corner that led to the street where he had run into the boy, and immediately spotted the pale white haired boy standing out of the way of traffic on the sidewalk. Strange, the boy wasn't in a school uniform. Maybe he went home and changed first? Oh well it didn't really matter.
The boy had spotted Midoriya and began walking in his direction as Izuku himself slowed down to a fast walk. He was barely breathing hard, and internally thanked All Might for his training. It would have been extremely embarrassing to walk up to the younger looking boy completely out of breath.
The two males stopped in front of each other and the white haired boy held out Midoriya's phone in his hand without saying anything. Izuku fumbled to get the boy's phone out of his pocket and to his horror it slipped out of his hand in his haste. He reached out his other hand to grab it but was half a second too late. It felt like slow motion as he watched the glass screen on its collision course for the cold, hard concrete down below.
Suddenly, the phone stopped in mid air as a small, pale hand had taken a hold of the free falling device. Midoriya glanced up in surprise. He hadn't even seen the boy move. The white haired boy just raised an eyebrow at the clumsy UA student.
Izuku straightened himself back up, his cheeks burning, and accepted his phone back from the boy.
"S-sorry again," Midoriya said, averting his gaze from the boy's piercing blue irises. "You got a lot of texts during the day, it was probably a big inconvenience for you to not have your phone today."
The smaller boy raised his other eyebrow. "Did you read them?"
"N-no! I wouldn't do something like that!" Izuku exclaimed. "I did notice that all of them were from the same person though," he admitted.
The boy hit the power button on his phone and skimmed the notifications. Then he shrugged. "It's nobody important, just some asshole who won't leave me alone," the boy spoke dismissively.
Midoriya just laughed nervously, not sure what to say. The person that kept spamming the boy's phone was saved under the name 'Asshole' so clearly the boy didn't have a very high opinion of him or her. Izuku did feel a tinge of guilt for lying though. He'd actually read some of the messages the boy received as the notifications popped up originally, but then his moral compass kicked in and he realized he was invading someone else's privacy and stopped checking. The texts had been a little strange, but nothing concerning. They had just been about a new game the sender had for the pale boy to play. Said it was going to be the most interesting one yet. When no response came, the sender got angry and started cursing and spamming the boy's phone, but luckily Midoriya had turned it to silent. Aizawa sensei would have flipped out on him like he did on Kirishima in class today when the red haired boy was caught texting during class.
"Well, thanks for bringing my phone back I guess," the white haired boy continued, clearly not sure what else to say.
"Yeah no p-problem," Izuku replied awkwardly.
"Okay, bye then," the boy said, taking a step back. Clearly he wasn't a people person.
The boy nodded succinctly and made his escape, clearly not wanting to prolong their off kilter conversation any longer. Midoriya watched him go, committing the boy's small frame to memory. He just had the gut feeling that this mysterious boy would be be important some day.
Killua knew the boy had read his texts; his guilty face was like an open book to the perceptive Zoldyck. Luckily it wasn't a big deal, and Killua was relieved to find that Tomura hadn't send him any explicit details of his next target. He had purposefully been vague, fishing for Killua to ask him all about his next target that the manchild seemed to be so excited about. When the small assassin didn't reply for hours, Tomura had, as per usual, lost his temper and started swearing at the boy through text.
Killua sent back the quick excuse that his phone was dead and he didn't have a charger with him. It was complete BS and Tomura would call him out on it, but the white haired boy didn't really care. He began to make his way back to the League of Villains' bar where he had a small bedroom upstairs.
Tomura texted back within two minutes with a long berating message that Killua didn't even bother to read. He sent back a middle finger emoji and asked, Who's the target?
The decay quirk user replied quickly, sending a single name. Kesagiriman.
Killua blinked, having no idea who that was. He texted back, Am I supposed to know who that is? Because I don't.
Tomura wrote back, He's a pro hero dumbass. This is your real test.
The pale assassin felt a small smile creep its way onto his face. Finally.
Kesagiriman is a manga character from the Overhaul Arc that hasn't shown up in the anime yet. He plays a very minor role in the manga but I have a specific purpose for him in mind.
Stain may seem a little OOC in this chapter, but to be fair we never get to see a real conversation with him that doesn't involve a death match or attempted murder. I imagine he'd be a lot more willing to listen to someone who isn't a hero he's trying to kill, like how he gave Shigaraki a chance to explain himself in canon. He's also got a soft spot for kids. Maybe not a soft spot, but a belief that children have yet to be corrupted by society, I suppose (like how he wasn't going to kill Iida until he started screaming about revenge). This is why he gives Killua a chance and doesn't immediately pass judgement on him. (There's also a tiny Dragon Ball Z Abridged reference in their meeting, but I don't expect anyone to catch it. It's something Cell says to Piccolo.)
In the HxH world everyone goes by their first names for the most part. Killua and Gon continue that in the BnHA world despite the fact that everyone goes by their respectful last names or hero/villain names.
The group chat names should be pretty self explanatory but if you don't recognize them yet you'll just have to wait.
Also! Morals are starting to be mentioned, and considering that's what the title of the fic is based off of, we'll be seeing more of that conflict as the story progresses.
