Iket45: Thank you for reading. Hope I can keep it interesting. :) Here is the next chapter!
Notes: Back to the present. Izuku updates Shigaraki on some current events.
Another OC alert.
Izuku slumped down on a bench all boneless.
The interview had been even worse than he'd expected.
The media had been setting up tents - some literally - around UA since Izuku's return. Those who were elbowed out of the prime spot chose more indirect sources such as the heroes who were present at the site of the kidnapping - Bubble Girl and Centipeder taking the brunt of it. ("Weren't the pros responsible for the student's safety?" being the favorite subject.) After a while, Izuku had acquiesced to a group interview in the hope that others would be left alone, despite the reservations from his mother and his counselor.
The press conference had been held at one of the annexed buildings that was a little away from the main campus. Principal Nezu and Aizawa-sensei were there for him but nothing could've prepared Izuku for the myriad of mics being shoved at him and blinding camera flashes. Izuku was sure he'd blanked out a few times.
Izuku sunk deeper into the seat. Minutes prior, he'd been in the back room where Aizawa- sensei had left him – the teacher having joined the rest of the pros for the second half of the interview. But it soon got too claustrophobic and Izuku had to come out for a breather.
"You look like you need a drink."
Izuku's head shot up and almost knocked the can out of the other person's hand. The figure before him retreated a few steps, waving the drink sheepishly.
"Sorry, surprised you, huh?"
"Um... no, I'm sorry. Who...?"
The woman handed over the drink can, which he accepted out of reflex. S he looked about the age of Aizawa-sensei. Bleach-pale hair veiled the left side of her face.
Then the press tag dangling from her neck alerted Izuku. The woman followed his line of gaze and smiled.
"Lena Kusei(九生). From the Tensai Times."
"Um... okay, but..."
"If you'll excuse me,"
The woman cheerfully sat down right beside him.
"Um, Kusei... san, the press are all- at the conference room..."
"Don't do well with crowds. Don't worry. I won't bellow out your secret hiding place. You must be exhausted."
"Well, I didn't do much -"
Izuku remembered being bombarded with questions. With frequent interjections from his teachers. He couldn't remember his own voice. In a way, it wasn't. The UA administration and Detective Tsukauchi had prepared his lines for him since some details couldn't be made open.
It made him feel guilty.
"Do you feel a bit better, talking about it? Although, I bet it was just a script you were reiterating,"
Something must have shown on his countenance because the woman suddenly closed her mouth. Biting his lip, Izuku made to get up.
"I have to go. I'm sorry. I - shouldn't talk to the press -"
"Hey, wait - gah!"
Izuku turned at the sharp exclamation and saw the woman bent over, half-risen, with her right leg collapsed on the edge of the bench and all her weight on the shaking right arm.
Izuku instinctively rushed to help but she shook her head as she managed to sit again, groaning.
"It's alright. It's because of this creaky thing."
Izuku's eyes widened when the woman rolled up a trouser leg to reveal a prosthetic leg. She reached at that leg with her left hand - which was also artificial. Dark metal fingers tapped lightly against the titanium support.
"Happened when I was a greenhorn. Was a bit careless about butting my nose in someone's business. Partly the reason I don't like crowds. too much shoving. "
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. I'm pretty sure I ain't. Still at a job that cost me an arm and a leg."
Sitting back, she gave a lopsided grin and pointed to her tag.
"I understand that we may not be your favorite people at the moment."
"I - it's just that - I'm not at all used to all this. It's rather - overwhelming."
"Bet you're oblivious about your own fame. One of the students involved in the Eight Precepts Operation. Powers that remind one of All Might -"
Izuku flinched. But the woman didn't seem to notice - "And a mysterious kidnapping still left unsolved. You're a news material. And it's all too easy for a person to become just that, a material."
The woman scratched her head.
"I admit, can't say I wasn't optimistic about snagging a private interview with you. But I saw you sitting here - looking so - well, ordinary. Sorry, probably not something you'd like to hear."
"I - no, that's fine."
"See, once you're seen as something - you're stuck in that category. You're either a hero or a villain or a victim. We don't like to think that one can be - all of them, depending on the situation. It makes the world that much complicated and fragile."
Izuku's fingers stiffened. He could almost feel flaking skin beneath them, the line of bones that jutted precariously under a thin layer of flesh. Fragile.
Not knowing his thoughts, the woman went on.
"It's a cruel thing to say but all of them – " The woman jerked a thumb towards the building – "- including myself – are trying to fit you into one of those angles: a traumatized victim? A hero who managed to break out from the grasp of dastardly criminals? But at the moment, I see - a student. A boy. A tired someone. And - I thought it'd be irresponsible of me to have this chance and not talk to you. Not even really that, just – see. Just to have that image of you in the back of my head when I'm doing my work."
She pointed at the drink in Izuku's hand, chuckling. "And hand you a drink."
She stretched her right leg gingerly. "Yeah, it probably sounds like bullshit. You already had to talk about how you felt about the whole thing among complete strangers. And here's another one of them, prying."
A moment passed. And Izuku settled down on the bench again. Rolling the can between his hands.
"I'm not sure what I feel."
Izuku thought it a small mercy that their first 'arranged' meeting fell on a Sunday. At least he had some time to think. As it turned out, it only gave him more time to do nothing but worry.
It won't come to that. Not really. I'll tell someone. All Might. Aizawa-sensei. Iida-kun. I have to. I must.
However, the thought of possible consequences halted Izuku whenever he braved a step towards any of his friends or his teachers with such intent. If he told, it may lead to Shigaraki's capture – but what about the rest of the League? They'd still be free to carry out whatever 'consequences' that Shigaraki might've instructed them. Then any possible casualties would be on Izuku.
As time went on, the idea of telling anyone became more and more difficult.
When Saturday came, Izuku found himself fussing over, of all things, on what to wear.
He wanted to avoid the school uniform, to attract as little attention as possible. And he didn't think anything that reminded the villain of UA would improve his mood. He didn't want the T-shirt he wore during their... encounters because by now, he was sure that T-shirt was jinxed. Something black? But it'd clash with Shigaraki's and he wasn't sure how he villain would react to it.
He'd once heard that one should avoid wearing bright-colored clothing to keep bees from attacking. The Shigaraki Tomura's profile was missing such crucial information as to what sartorial choice was least likely provoke the villain.
In the end, Izuku opted for a white shirt that his mother bought him some time ago. With a pair of dark trousers, plus a baseball cap.
The fateful Sunday found him at a park not far from the Kiyashi Shopping Mall. By a tree that looks like it'd been fattening up on pedestrians. Izuku had assumed that Shigaraki was playing with him on that little detail. But once there, he could see it'd been an apt description. It was HUGE. Its trunk and branches had grotesquely contorted bulges that reminded one of faces writing in rage or pain. Izuku wouldn't have been surprised if this tree developed a malevolent quirk of its own and uprooted itself from its current seat to seek victims to devour.
No, that's wrong. No quirk's malevolent in its nature.
Izuku inwardly apologized to the tree. Which didn't seem to placate its mood.
He was early - which left him plenty of more time to be anxious. He half-expected - hoped - he'd be stood up. But if Shigaraki did show up -
Izuku had spent a good part of the week going over possible scenarios. Filling an entire notebook. He imagined Detective Takeouchi and the principal coaching him and All Might giving moral support, just as they'd done for his press interview.
Of course, by logical process, it always came back to them admonishing him to come clean about the whole situation.
After a while, Izuku was playing out his previous scenarios with the suitably hostile-looking tree as a stand-in. Since there was no one to stop him from muttering and gesticulating – people took one look at the tree and took a detour - Izuku got even more into it -
"...You're scaring the poor tree."
Izuku nearly jumped out of his skin.
He practically did a stumbling pirouette turning around. The villain was in very much the same attire as last time, hands inside the pockets of his hoodie.
"Ah! Um... hi!"
His imaginary teachers simultaneously slapped their faces.
Shigaraki Tomura swept past Izuku as if he weren't there, resting his back on the enormous tree. Izuku couldn't help looking up to check if the monstrous tree wasn't offended by such insolence. Against all rationality, Izuku thought that the tree looked a little mollified at the villain's casual attitude. Izuku trotted near, still not quite daring to lean beside the villain.
"...What's with that?"
"Sorry?"
Shigaraki swept a hand to indicate Izuku's cap and everything down to his trousers. Izuku felt heat rise to his cheeks.
"Um - do I - look – er, weird?"
There was a short expulsion of breath. Izuku wondered if that was a laugh.
"It's kinda cute,"
Before Izuku could process that the word 'cute' really had come out from the villain's mouth, a pale hand reached out.
"Like a kid who went through his father's wardrobe,"
The hand turned up the collar of his shirt.
"Or a first-level RPG character."
This time, breathy laughter at Izuku's pout was unmistakable.
Then something like a lightest touch of sandpaper swept near one of his eyes.
"You still look like shit."
A calloused finger rubbed lightly at the bags under that eye, flattening out the wrinkled skin. The finger retreated as Izuku squirmed. Izuku blinked and rubbed at his now-watery eye, muttering defensively.
"I'm... a lot better than before."
He wasn't lying. Since his return, Izuku had spent the too many nights wide-eyed. The doctor's prescriptions helped, but Izuku was afraid of getting dependent on them and only used them as a last resort. When he did manage to get some sleep, the first few minutes of disorientation upon waking were almost as bad.
During the day, he could almost pretend to forget about it. But the fear the night would bring tainted everything. Waiting like the proverbial monster under the bed.
Which was why Izuku pushed himself to train near the breaking point. So that he'd have no option but to pass out at the end of the day. Even when his teachers threatened to pull him out of the class altogether for his own sake, Izuku would work himself to the brink of exhaustion.
The worst, the absolute worst was the thought that he might have to live with this... fear for the rest of his life.
Izuku tried to look for signs of similar fatigue on the other. Except one couldn't really tell with Shigaraki. Who always looked like a... a sort of revenant.
He wondered if there was an underground counselor that Shigaraki had been seeing. Was every night a trial for him, too? That moment of terror just before he dared to close his eyes? That desperate longing to not be afraid anymore, did it claw at his heart as well?
He consciously tried not to think about the fact that the first night he slept soundly since the kidnapping, without any help of medication or over-exhaustion, was the night of their last encounter. Possibly the thought of the rendezvous drove away all other worries. But behind that was something else, as if the mental equivalent of a knotted muscle had been loosened, relaxing with a sigh.
Shigaraki Tomura is alive.
That fact helped for the next few nights as well. It didn't banish the fear, but it'd insinuated itself in between, a buffer between Izuku and the darkness.
Their shoulders brushed. Izuku hadn't been aware they'd been standing so close.
"S...so,"
Izuku did his best to picture All Might giving him a supportive thumbs-up for taking the initiative.
"Is there anything that you'd like to talk about..."
"Regarding your side not having any leads..."
"Eh...?"
"You were lying, weren't you? So spill."
Izuku's stomach plummetted.
For the next several seconds, Izuku - quite unintentionally - entertained the villain by doing a very good impression of a floundering fish out of water. The performance ended when his frantic hand scraped its back against the tree. The pain helped to get his bearings.
"H - how did you - !"
"You just told me."
All Might's reassuring figure receded into the distance to be replaced by those of Principal Nezu and Aizawa-sensei, both with hands on their brows, shaking their heads disapprovingly.
Izuku rubbed his cheeks to push down the flush as Shigaraki smirked at him. Izuku took a deep breath. Okay. It's alright. This was one of the things he'd been prepared for.
"I... was going to tell you, really."
Which was true. He'd been shuffling his feet about it until Shigaraki had arrived, but this had cemented his resolve. After all, it was only fair that…
"...you be warned."
He hadn't meant to say that out loud. The pale man craned his neck sideways to glance curiously at Izuku.
Izuku breathed in again...
...and exhaled.
"Ahhhh, you almost caused a ground to sink with that one."
Izuku gave a weak laugh. The journalist grinned in return. Izuku hadn't realized that he'd opened the given can. He lifted it to his mouth to find it, surprisingly, almost empty.
Izuku actually had ended up talking. She hadn't asked anything that hadn't been already presented at the interview. But this time, Izuku was talking to just one person. In a way, it was like talking to his counselor. And like the counselor, the initially talkative journalist had proved an attentive listener, only putting in appropriate rejoinders when the conversation faltered.
The police had been polite, his teachers and counselor had nothing but his well-being in mind, and his friends, always supportive. Not to mention his mother. But sometimes it was all a little... too much to bear.
It felt like he was doing them wrong by not being as alright as he should be.
Worrying about someone he shouldn't be worried about.
Talking to a stranger to whom he owed nothing was strangely liberating.
But at the same time, it increased the guilt. Because he couldn't talk about how he truly survived that darkness. Who had held him so that he wouldn't break. Who ultimately took him - both of them - out of it all.
"I think you're not giving yourself enough credit,"
The woman said abruptly, flicking her hand.
"I mean, surviving through that more or less whole. Surely even veteran pros would've been broken."
"No, no. It was... I had -"
An anchor.
" - luck."
And I still don't know if he's alive and whole.
"No, no, still a student and hold his own along with the Leader of the League of Villains? I call that quite a feat."
The sentence didn't register for a moment. During that time, Izuku would've been just looking at her with a blank smile, as the impossible implication fought to get through his mind.
The woman who'd introduced herself as Lena Kusei languidly bent over, a cheek pressed against her metal knuckles.
"You know, we thought you were just a minnow caught in the net with a shark. But no, we were wrong. You're more of a dolphin."
Izuku jumped up as if the ground had burst underneath him. The can flew from his hand. Izuku paid it no heed.
"Who are you?!"
The woman gave a toothy grin.
"To me, names are clothes. To be worn or shed at convenience." She chuckled. "Apologies. That was shamelessly dramatic. I find our nicknames a tad embarrassing. Unlike our dear Sandy."
Izuku shifted his weight. Every fiber of his muscles a coiled spring. His hands balled into fists. The woman raised an eyebrow.
"Now, now. No need for that. My quirk is no good at brawls and you can probably pin me down with a finger. But - " She cast a glance towards the building. "You don't know if I'm with my - comrades, now do you? Some of them probably mixed in among the unsuspecting press there. Sure, there are pros present, but it's better to avoid a scene altogether, no?"
Izuku clenched his teeth to keep the shuddering breath from escaping. The downed drink boiled inside his stomach. He felt sick with it.
"What do you want?"
"I told you, I really did mean it when I said I just wanted to see you."
She tapped the bench as if to urge Izuku to sit down again. When Izuku didn't budge, she shrugged.
"I really should pay my respects to the young successor of All For One as well, except the League doesn't advertise their address. And after the stunt we've pulled, they seem to be extra elusive..."
"Are you the Sandman's superior? The boss of the... organization?"
"We like to say we run a democratic group. I can merely claim seniority. Sandy is, well, young."
The woman leaned back on the bench.
"Your villain friend, he did quite a number on our Sandy. Not gonna lie, Sandy was overdue a lesson. Too spoiled by lack of failure. Continued successes at a young age can be quite dangerous. Although, this might be a lesson that poor Sandy won't recover from."
She tutted. Izuku saw a flash of tongue dart out, like a snake.
"Hell, you both did quite a number on us. That room? It was a work of art. Unique. Irreplaceable."
"It was an abomination."
A shrug. "A matter of perspective."
She got up with a slight grunt and flexed her artificial limb.
"So, it looks like we'll be spending some time licking our wounds. Afterwards, well... we'll see."
She shrugged again.
"Don't bother walking me out. It was nice seeing you in person, Midoriya Izuku."
With that, she turned her back to him, waving carelessly.
Izuku didn't move until that back was out of his sight.
"...Did no one ever tell you not to talk to strangers?"
Izuku raised his shoulders slightly at that, half-bristling and half trying to hide his face.
The press conference had finished uneventfully. The Tensai Times turned out to be a legitimate newspaper company. But they had no connection whatsoever to anyone named Lena Kusei nor anyone fitting her description, nor could they explain how this ghost journalist had gotten into the press conference under their name.
It was suspected that the woman had entered the building mixed among the crowd, but there were no clear witnesses. If not for Izuku and a video surveillance footage of her exiting the area, she might as well not have existed.
In the latter, she'd actually looked directly at the camera. And waved with her metal hand.
The police had only released a partial testimony – that a journalist under a false name had infiltrated the conference – and because of that, the UA was wary of exposing their students to the media.
Izuku didn't want to think what'd happen if any of the authorities found out if he'd shared this information with the Leader of the League of Villains.
But he'd wanted Shigaraki to know that the culprits were still close by. Perhaps on a reserved stance, but still circling. So that the villain would be on guard against them. Izuku knew this was his fear speaking. His fear that Shigaraki might be caught unawares.
"So she shows her face openly, not only risks but invites the wrath of the whole UA and the police just to mess with you. At least Overhaul was businesslike." Shigaraki clicked his tongue. "So that's the real reason why the UA's coddling you against the media. Hindsight is 20/20, I suppose."
They were walking now. Along the less scenic back path of the park. Izuku spoke almost to himself.
"Maybe she wasn't… wary of showing herself because she had no records."
The woman's face was being searched all over, but so far, with no hits. The criminals were likely a foreign group, and that meant accesses to out-of-the-country databases were needed. Which presented more difficulties.
"Another thing is…"
Izuku hesitated. There was a huff beside him. Izuku took it as a sign to go on.
"She called the... Sandman young. Really, she didn't look all that much older than him. It may simply imply she was in the group longer than him but the way she referred to Sandman, like..."
"...Perhaps a shape-shifting quirk? And artificial limbs can be hidden or replaced. That'd explain why she's so unconcerned about showing herself."
"Just a guess. But, could be."
Unexpectedly, Shigaraki chuckled.
"Although, Sandy? I can't help liking her just a little."
Currently, there was no power on earth that could make Izuku harbor even a dust grain's worth of warm feeling towards the woman.
...Which had been true for the man walking beside him as well, mere months ago.
"So from what she said, the game's on pause at the moment, at least from their side."
Shigaraki turned a sharply curved path and Izuku automatically followed. His head almost bumped into the taller man's shoulder. Izuku's ears tickled at the near-contact.
"W-what about you?"
"Hmm?"
Izuku half-regretted asking. But as long as they were meeting like this, he might as well attempt to gain information, instead of just imparting them.
"W-ell, the League has been..." Izuku fumbled for an appropriate word, "...quiet?"
Amused red eyes looked down at him.
"Would you prefer it if we weren't?"
"Wha- no! Not at all! It's good! That you're quiet! The best! I mean...!"
An arm wrapped around Izuku's neck and pulled him roughly. So close that his mouth was muffled against the villain's side. Izuku flailed but froze when he felt something dig into his shoulder.
His brain finally kicked in and took note of two things: Several of the passers-by were looking at them - likely because of his outburst. This could be dealt with: The villain had already shut him up, so all he had to do was duck beneath the stares and walk a little faster.
His brain abandoned him on the second issue, however - that Shigaraki was laughing quietly against him, face buried in his shoulder.
Pale hair tickled his neck, which had become a bit too warm.
Thankfully, the slight weight lifted before Izuku had to do anything about it.
"...We've been busy doing some spring cleaning,"
"...Ah?"
"Figured our own backyard needs to be dealt with first, before any new projects."
"Do you mean...?"
"Next Thursday, 7pm, Senbu Squareside, by the lion statue."
Izuku blinked. Then his brain rushed to grab at something it could deal with.
The next meeting. Which meant that this meeting was over.
Izuku looked up with some surprise to see bluish darkness seeping through the thinning light of day.
"...Okay."
What else could he say?
Shigaraki, despite having made the announcement, made no move to depart. So Izuku had to keep walking awkwardly beside him.
"What was it?"
"Huh?"
"The drink, what was it?"
Izuku glanced at the figure beside him. Then he followed the other's gaze, and ended up at a vending machine near one of the park's exits.
The police had retrieved the can to check for any trace evidences. Afterwards, Izuku was assured that there hadn't been any foreign substances.
Izuku had puked his insides out anyway, that night.
"Well?"
They were now right by the vending machine.
"...LEE Milk Coffee."
There was a tinkle of coins, and a dull thud. The hood slipped as Shigaraki bent over to take out the can. And Izuku stared down at the pale head in a kind of daze. Izuku didn't think he'd see the other man from this angle again, outside that room. It'd gotten darker. The light from the machine alighted strangely upon that ashen hair, blurring the outline of that figure.
Then coldness pierced his hand. Startled out of his reverie, Izuku looked up at the man standing up once more before him.
"It's not for you, it's just that I don't - "
Shigaraki bit off the rest of the sentence. Looking discomfited - almost angry - for the first time they'd met today. The can pressed more insistently into Izuku's palm until Izuku just had to take it.
Their fingertips might have brushed against each other in the process.
"You don't have to drink it, Midoriya. Just chuck it in the garbage can if you want to. You'll at least have that satisfaction."
With that, Shigaraki turned. Walking back the way they'd come. Izuku watched until he couldn't see that stooped back anymore.
Izuku hadn't meant to. But on the way back to school, Izuku drank the can empty even when he fully expected to spend the night hugging the toilet. An act of obscure defiance.
However, his stomach stayed peaceful. And sleep claimed him early that night.
End Notes: I thought about having All Might accompany Izuku to the interview but in the end, I opted for Aizawa because I don't think All Might's presence would've helped in front of all the media attention. It now occurs to me that this is exactly how it'd have played out in-narrative as well: All Might insisting to be there for young Midoriya and Principal Nezu talking him out of it.
The name given by the OC villain - Kusei (九生) – hints at her quirk.
The newspaper, location name, and the drink brand title are all made up by yours truly.
The idea for Izuku's clothes was derived from that RPG ending from the anime, minus the vest.