I do not own BNHA or its characters.
Enjoy Chapter One of "Canvas"
Cowritten and proofread by aoimikans on Tumblr.
Speak of the Devil...
Rain slapped against the kitchen window as outside it fell in sheets. The white noise of rain mixed with the low drone of the television on the counter.
Toshinori stared down at his tea, steaming and untouched, hands folded together under his chin. His brows furrowed and lips pressed in a grim line.
"When?" he asked.
"Last night," Detective Naomasa Tsukauchi said flatly. He took a slow sip of his coffee then roughly pinched the bridge of his nose. Dark bags under his eyes and day old wrinkles in his shirt spoke to his exhaustion as much as his frustrated sigh, "Sometime between 3AM and 5AM. All surveillance cuts out at 3:02AM. It's a real security failure. I'm certain quite a few heads will roll once this gets out. If they don't resign first," he tacked on with a grunt.
Toshinori hummed darkly.
"How was it not discovered earlier?"
Naomasa shrugged helplessly, throwing up his hands in exasperation.
"It's the highest security ward in the country. The only option is having someone working on the inside. Internal affairs is looking into it now, though I imagine they'll be trumped by national security agents. They'll likely want to make a show of force to ease the public mindset," Naomasa set his coffee mug on the counter with a soft clack and walked to the couch. With a groan he sat beside Toshinori, "I'm sorry."
Toshinori nodded. The knot in the scarred remains of his gut tightened and his right arm ached, the injuries All for One had inflicted on him in his last battle still fresh. His grip on his fingers tightened.
"What do you think he will do?" the detective asked.
Toshinori forced himself to relax and sit back against the couch. His breath leaving him in a quiet rush.
"I don't know," he admitted. "Somehow I doubt he will return to the open just yet. Both of us were crippled in the Kamino Ward," Toshinori flexed his right hand, broken and scarred. It twitched in response but did little else. He let it drop into his lap. "He will want to return to his haunts in the shadows, to his student. Perhaps allow for the public unease to grow once news of his escape is released. Beyond that, I'm as blind as you."
Naomasa clapped a hand on Toshinori's good shoulder and squeezed.
Toshinori nodded and sighed. His wounded pride raging in his chest. This was a complete loss.
"What now?" Toshinori asked the quiet of the house.
"We notify the school. Prepare for the shitstorm," Noamasa replied. "Then we try again."
Toshinori curled his good hand into a fist. He had already given his all at the Kamino Ward … He couldn't even buff up to his hero form anymore. There was not another fight left in him.
"Yeah," Toshinori sighed. He reached out and took his cup of tea in hand.
It had gone cold.
"Let me give you a ride back to U.A." Naomasa offered, leaning against the hallway wall.
Toshinori waved off the offer casually.
"You need sleep. You look like death," he remarked.
"Said pot to kettle," Naomasa quipped, crossing his arms stubbornly, the effect ruined by his gaping yawn.
Toshinori scoffed and smiled lightly as he shrugged on his long coat.
"It's alright," he said, "I can manage. I've called for a car."
Naomasa nodded and shoved his hands in his pockets.
"Say hi to your students for me," Naomasa grinned cheekily, "That book I gave you any help?"
"Shut it," Toshinori grumbled, shaking his umbrella loose.
"You've read it, then?" Naomasa's tired grin widened.
Toshinori sent him an ineffective scowl while his old friend laughed.
"Good night, Naomasa," he huffed, pulling the door open.
"Night," Naomasa called as Toshinori closed the door behind him.
Toshinori huddled under his wide umbrella as he shuffled to the curb, regretting his choice of shoes as he stepped into a puddle, the water slopping up and soaking into his socks.
Headlights cut through the rain as the U.A. car pulled up to the curb. Toshinori yanked the back door open, cursing when the wind nearly tugged his umbrella from his hand and the rain soaked his hair and shoulders. He dropped into the backseat, shaking the rain off the umbrella before pulling it in and laying it at his feet.
"Thanks for picking me up, Hibiki," Toshinori called to his usual driver as he shut the door and slid over, "I know it was short notice."
"No problem at all," Hibiki replied as he pulled away from the curb.
Toshinori sighed as he attempted to brush the remaining rain drops from his coat.
"Something bothering you tonight?" Hibiki asked.
"Ah," Toshinori moved to fluffing his soaking wet hair, only glancing up briefly. In the dark of the cab, he couldn't see his driver very well, "It's the rain. Makes my joints ache. Just getting old."
"You aren't that old," Hibiki said, a grin in his voice.
Toshinori chuckled warmly, "My students say the same. They're good kids."
They turned out of the residential neighborhood and onto busier streets.
The night seemed quiet. A troubled frown tugged at the corners of Toshinori's mouth. All for One was out there, threatening the peace he could no longer protect.
Pathetic… the thought rose from the back of his mind. He ran a hand down his face, suddenly feeling weary to his bones. He watched as they passed the first streetlight, the falling rain lit up around it like ropes of silver.
"Still working on those impressions of yours, Hibiki?" Toshinori asked absently, settling back in his seat.
The driver hummed as if in thought, "You could say that."
There was an odd lilt in his voice. Toshinori looked up curiously.
They passed under another streetlight.
Toshinori's blood ran cold.
"Ah," the driver smiled but it didn't reach his eyes. He had no eyes. Only scar tissue. "I've been found out. I suppose impersonations can't fool the former Symbol of Peace."
"SHIT!" Toshinori reached instinctively for One for All -
The world went dark and silent.
It wasn't the cold or the bright light bleeding through his eyelids that finally woke Toshinori. It was the smell. Sickly and sterile and metallic with an undercurrent of latex. He could never forget the smell of a hospital.
Toshinori was on his knees, hunched forward and held up by the tension in his arms. He hissed as he pulled himself up. Sharp pains shot through his shoulders and down his spine, his back and shoulder muscles spasming as they settled back into place.
Something rattled and dragged loud and low. Toshinori looked to his right.
Chains. He was shackled and chained to the wall.
"Shit…" Toshinori ground out, giving the heavy chain an experimental tug. His range of movement stopped just in front of his chest. The shackle dug into his wrist; the skin underneath was already red and itching. He was surprised it wasn't rubbed raw yet.
He let his hand fall and shivered. His coat and shoes were gone, along with their familiar warmth, and his hair still slightly damp and chilled at the roots from the rain. He couldn't have been here long.
A pinched ache pulled his attention left. His left arm was held out, shackled to a much shorter chain that hung from the wall. By his left hand, almost close enough to touch, a stationary IV pole stood. Toshinori's gaze followed the clear tube from the hanging bag down to… he twisted his left hand. The IV tube ended at the back of his hand. That explained the ache. His heart hammered a little harder against his ribcage, pumping the clear, cool intravenous drip through his veins.
Toshinori looked away and leaned back, his head gently bumping against the cold wall behind him. He took a steadying breath.
Okay. This is happening. I can handle this.
He jumped in surprise when the door opposite him opened.
Toshinori didn't know what he might have suspected, but a nurse in full scrubs and a clipboard was not it. He watched her as she scanned the clipboard, eyes half-lidded in boredom.
"Ma'am?" he blurted, blinking in confusion and his voice cracking incredulously.
The nurse glanced up at him, then back to her clipboard as if nothing was amiss. She laid the clipboard on the small counter by the door and approached him. She waved her hand and made a fist.
Toshinori grunted as the slack in the chains leapt up and coiled around his right arm, pulling it back and taut against the wall.
I see, Toshinori thought grimly, watching the nurse from behind his bangs as his back was forced flat against the wall. He tensed when he spotted the scalpel. "Hey!"
The nurse nicked the inside of his forearm and pressed the sides of the cut, blood beading along the short line. She watched it carefully, for what Toshinori didn't -
His focus on the cut intensified. It didn't … The sting had already faded. He watched with mild horror as the blood receded back into his skin. The skin around the cut itched and slowly knit itself back together leaving only a faint white line.
"Accelerated Healing Quirk has assimilated smoothly," the nurse stated as she straightened and examined the IV bag, the bored look on her face never changing.
"Your bedside manner could use some work, Ma'am," Toshinori said with a challenging grin. His voice lowered and boisterous - albeit raspy - like his hero persona. Old habits die hard.
The nurse glanced at him briefly but said nothing. She returned to the counter by the door, jotting something down on her clipboard before retrieving something from a small basket.
Toshinori grimaced as his abdomen clenched. He didn't have to see what she was doing. He recognized the sounds of the syringe being freed from its packaging, the pop of a vial being opened, the click of the needle cap being pulled away.
The nurse finally turned enough for him to see her tapping the syringe, the needle still inside the vial filled with something dark and red.
"I'm up to date on all my vaccinations," Toshinori said with a strained smile, his mouth practically running itself. His smile twitched as she approached, "And I've already made an appointment to get a flu shot, so that really isn't necessary."
The nurse paused, IV bag in one hand and syringe in the other. She gave him a thoughtful look.
"Do you ever shut up?" she asked flatly.
Toshinori blinked and tried not to look like he had been slapped.
The nurse pressed the needle through the IV bag port, dark red rushing in and tainting the clear solution as she pressed the plunger with practiced efficiency. She pulled out the needle, twisting the IV bag to watch the red tint the solution evenly before sealing the port and returning to the counter.
"I'd hate to be one of your usual patients," Toshinori said lamely, but his focus was drawn to the bag. The red solution - Blood, Toshinori thought with a detached certainty, it's his blood. - dripped slowly from the bag to the tube, gravity and his own heart pulling the taint closer to his hand. He fought the urge to reach for One for All, to touch the void that once held that flame. He fought the urge to struggle, to yank at the chains he knew he could not break, to flail and fight and lose in front of the callous woman observing him.
Instead, he waited and watched as the tainted blood of All for One slunk into his veins with an anticlimactic finality. He hadn't even noticed the nurse leaving or the chains going slack.
For a while, nothing happened. Toshinori wasn't sure how much time passed. There were no windows and no clock, only the steady drip of the IV.
It started out as an itch.
Toshinori rubbed his back against the wall, frowning when the prickling itch only spread down his spine and up his neck. He let out a frustrated sigh and reached his hand back, scratching between his shoulders. His hand froze, fingertips brushing against what felt like stubble. Toshinori bent forward and grit his teeth, forcing himself to lay his hand flat against his spine.
The itch shifted to pins and needles tugging at the middle of his back. Thick, bristly hair pushed from his skin, brushing against his scarred palm and fingers. With a quick tug he yanked one from between his shoulder blades and held it in front of his face. It was blond.
"Shit!" Toshinori spat gripping the pale strand in his fist as he bowed forward, eyes squeezed tightly closed. "Shit. Goddamnit. Fuck!"
He curled in on himself, taking slow shaking breaths as the pins and needles sensation faded. The ridge of blond hair rubbed uncomfortably against the inside of his shirt, demanding to be felt, impossible to ignore. Sweat coated his brow. He pressed the heel of his hand between his eyes then abruptly scrubbed his hand down his face.
Toshinori let out a broken bark of a laugh and nodded.
"Okay," he said to the empty room, "Okay."
He raised his hand again, placing it on the back of his head and carding his fingers through his hair. Then hesitantly, he let his hand slide down to his neck. The new hair, the wrong hair, felt the same as his own in length and texture.
He grimaced as he traced his fingers around the base of his skull. Where had his hairline ended before?
His hand slid farther down, chain clinking and following over his shoulder and under his shirt. His hand stopped between his shoulder blades and he pressed his palm flat. The stripe of hair was only just as wide as his hand, the skin on either side unchanged. The skin under his palm twitched in irritation at the pressure while the hair bristled at the touch.
Toshinori pulled his hand from his shirt and let it fall to his lap.
"Alright," he said, arching his back and rolling his shoulders in an attempt to get the hair to lie flat under his shirt and failing, "It's just hair. What's a little hair?" He leaned against the wall and immediately pulled away with an irritated grunt. Impatiently, he reached back and brushed down at his shirt before giving up being comfortable with a sigh. "Feels like I've got a wool scarf stuffed down my shirt," he groused.
The deadbolt abruptly unlocked with a loud click! and the door swung open. The nurse stepped inside, still turned toward the hall.
"- assimilating well. He is stable and talkative," she stated in that same bored tone, backing away from the open door.
"Nurse," Toshinori greeted with a cheeky smile, "Done terrorizing your other patients?"
The nurse glanced into the hall, "I see why you dislike him."
"Not dislike," said the voice in the hall.
Toshinori tensed, his hackles bristling under his shirt and eyes burning with a fury.
All for One stepped in from the hall, face covered in a new black mask, "I despise him."
Slowly, Toshinori pulled himself up, standing as best he could with the shackles digging down into his wrists. The pinch in his left hand worsening as he cut off circulation to the IV drip.
"Look at you, Symbol of Peace," All for One said, masked face tilting as he held out his hands, "You obliterated so many of my comrades with that body, and now mere chains can hold you down. Are you really so weak? You are an echo of your former self."
Toshinori glared up at his mortal enemy, straining at the shackles to stand at his full height. Gran Torino's warning from the Kamino Ward repeating in his mind unbidden: Don't let him provoke you! Don't trade anymore words with him! Toshinori remained silent.
"Tetsumi," All for One turned to the nurse and in a mocking tone said, "I thought you said he was talkative."
The nurse shrugged impartially, retrieving a thick metal band from the cabinet and turning it over in her hands.
Toshinori's focus remained on All for One, his glare unwavering.
All for One regarded him for a moment, bending slightly to Toshinori's level.
"Tetsumi, if you would," he said, straightening.
The nurse looked up from the metal band and nodded. She released the band, but it did not fall. It remained floating midair - Metal Manipulation Quirk, Toshinori thought - then it shot across the room and clamped around his thin neck. With a quick downward gesture, the nurse yanked Toshinori's head forward by his neck.
Toshinori grit his teeth and fought, thin back and leg muscles straining to keep him upright. The pressure around his neck tightened and forced him lower. Shame flared in his gut as Toshinori panted and his gaze landed on his legs. They were shaking with the effort to simply stay standing.
Then something hitched sharply in his chest and he coughed. His knees buckled and he fell, roughly jarring his knees on the tiled floor. Blood sprayed between his teeth as he tried to stifle the hacking coughing fit that had done him in. It dripped down his chin and onto the floor as his breath rattled wetly in his chest. His arm twitched, instinctively moving to wipe the blood away, but it had been pinned behind him by the manipulated chain.
A hand brushed the back of his bowed head and slunk to the base of his neck. There was a tug at his shirt collar and a loud tearing. The material of his shirt fell to his sides as his back was exposed to the cold hospital air.
The hand returned, brushing down against the bristling blonde hackles on Toshinori's back. Too late did he recognize the polished black shoes in front of him.
Toshinori involuntarily bucked against the unmoving metal hold at his neck and wrists, mentally willing All for One to burst into flames or drop dead on the spot. Anything to get the villain's clammy hand off him.
"Ridged Mane," All for One said, grabbing a fistful of the hair at the base of Toshinori's neck, "A virtually useless mutant form quirk. It had potential to be of use and powerful given time and the right quirk mixing. But it was hampered by poor breeding and the introduction of the quirkless gene. It suits you."
Toshinori furrowed his brow, searching for even the most minute ember of One for All. Just a split second to transform and break free from the chains that bound him.
"You are just as useless now. So much for the great All Might." All for One continued, "Who would have suspected the world's false hero was born quirkless?"
Toshinori froze. How…?
"Even your predecessor had her own quirk before receiving One for All." All for One rambled thoughtfully, dragging his fingers through the blonde hackles again, scraping his fingernails against Toshinori's spine before pulling his hand away, "Imagine my surprise when I tried to take yours and found nothing left in you. What could your master have been thinking when she passed on the quirk I fathered to a sub-human child?"
Don't you dare speak of her, Toshinori wanted to roar, to pull back his fist and strike All for One down again for mentioning his predecessor. Instead, he looked up and glared at the villain, eyes burning and heart beating slow and strong and proud.
"How could something so obsolete become such a thorn in my side?" All for One asked, leaning down closer to Toshinori's eye level. "Ah, but this presents a unique opportunity. Your breed is so rare. I have never had the chance to work with a perfect blank canvas. No inborn quirks to complicate my work."
Toshinori held the man's nonexistent stare. He had already known All for One never planned to kill him. If he had, he would have already done it. And he had already suspected…
"Additionally, many of my previous creations were captured and are beyond my reach. I will have to make more." All for One straightened and gestured to the whole of Toshinori, "How fortunate I can kill two birds with one stone."
The metal against Toshinori's neck and wrist slackened marginally. It was only a little, but perhaps…
"I will remake you. I will rename you," All for One's voice quieted, "Noumu."
Toshinori grit his teeth and pushed himself up until his back was straight and proud, not missing the way the nurse's hand shook with effort at her limit.
"You can try."
Thank you for reading! Send me a review or PM if you have any questions or comments.