VillainEraser x VillainMic? Let's go!
-x- = scene change/time skip (sometimes also a perspective change)
-o- = perspective change (but not a scene change)
[Words] = dialogue spoken in English (since the characters are technically speaking Japanese)
Chapter One
Love Moderately
"These violent delights have violent ends,
And in their triumph die, like fire and powder,
Which as they kiss consume. The sweetest honey
Is loathsome in his own deliciousness,
And in the taste confounds the appetite.
Therefore love moderately, long love doth so;
Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow."
-Romeo and Juliet (Friar Lawrence - Act 2, Scene 6)
He didn't enjoy thinking about that day. In fact, it made him mad, and nowadays when he got mad, people tended to get hurt. Aizawa had once dreamt of becoming a hero, of rescuing citizens and saving the world one botched robbery at a time, but his flimsy dream had been dashed by fearful spectators and howls of execration.
That first Sports Festival had spelled his doom.
His opponent had survived; Shouta's dream had not.
He'd been stuck in General studies, despite the clear divide between him and his fellow classmates, and he'd been banned from all future Sport Festivals, without the chance of transferal to the Hero course. Every year he'd grown bitterer and bitterer, even after graduation, and now at twenty-two he'd had his twisted revelation.
If he had no chance of becoming a hero, he was going to become a villain and destroy the system that had failed him, one dead hero at a time.
Aizawa would debut that night, and he was going to start his career with a bang.
So, what building had been his first target? Hero HQ would've been ideal, but he wasn't an idiot. No, he couldn't start off that big, unfortunately. For now he'd be an underground villain, lurking in the shadows and hunting down individual heroes on patrol.
He'd been following this one for a few nights now. He'd recognised her from his days at UA, despite her costume (or because of it), and although he hadn't talked to her in years, he'd once considered her a friend. Now she was his first target.
Nemuri Kayama, the R-Rated Hero: Midnight.
Her outfit was minimal due to her Somnambulist Quirk. She could put people to sleep with the pheromones on her skin, not that it really mattered against his Erasure Quirk.
Most heroes relied on their powers to win, meaning he was going to be their worst enemy.
Kayama patrolled the streets below while he carefully followed her across the rooftops above. His outfit was almost entirely black: black jumpsuit, black utility belt, and a black mask with circular red lenses for eyes. He didn't have a villain name and doubted he'd ever give himself one: he didn't see the importance.
Something vibrated once in his belt, his phone, but he ignored it as his boots landed soundlessly on the next building over. Midnight was nearing the place he'd designated for his ambush, but he was surprised by an unexpected deviation. She stopped and pulled a phone from an unseen pocket on her outfit - how did that thing even have pockets?
Her supple skin shone against the moonlight, her costume completely obscene with its minimalist covering. Usually she turned right up ahead, but something about the phone made her turn left and disappear into a nearby alleyway instead. Aizawa sneered beneath his mask, concerned. Had she somehow known about his presence? It didn't matter; he wasn't going to forego his debut on a mere possibility.
Shouta leapt over another gap between the buildings and tried to track her, but when he finally had a vantage point of the alleyway, she was gone.
"Dammit," he growled beneath his breath, but dashed across the length of the alleyway to see if she were waiting on the other side. A shape leapt up a few buildings ahead, and he instantly dropped low to avoid being spotted.
Her skin glistened against the moonlight: it was her. Midnight's back was facing him, and she was dashing northward along the rooftops. Was she fleeing, or had something else disrupted her patrol route?
Wait…
He glanced down at the streets. There were a few citizens milling about, despite the time, and many had stopped to show each other their phones. What the…?
Aizawa recalled the earlier vibration in his belt and pulled out his own device to investigate. The screen illuminated his mask, the brightness dyed red through his crimson lenses. He had a single message, in English, from an unknown contact. The display name came up as a microphone emoji. Judging by the reaction of the citizens on the street, everyone had received it.
[You ready to party?]
Just some stupid advertisement, probably for a new bar - definitely an invasion of privacy though. Attached to the message was a map, but he didn't bother to look as he shoved it back into his belt. This would not ruin his debut.
He dashed across the rooftops, headed in the same direction as Midnight, and soon she was back in view, her black hair reflecting the bright lights of the signs below. This was a busy part of the city, not a place he'd planned to debut, but while he was a logical man, his stubbornness typically won out.
Where was she going? She must've received a message about a villain, or about an incident that needed back up. Perhaps a veteran would be jaded enough to finish patrol early to check out a new bar, but assuming she'd spent the last few years as a sidekick, she wouldn't risk a demotion so early in her hero career.
She stopped. Shouta stalked closer. He reached for his knife, his movements completely silent. Just a few…more…steps…
Aizawa was blinded by a brilliant light. On the building ahead of them, a giant cube appeared in a swirl of black mist.
"[ALL ABOARD~!]"
The words rocked through him, nearly knocking him off his feet. Fireworks exploded above and the metal cube opened wall-by-wall. Crash. Crash. Crash. The final side gave way. Crash. Through the blaring spotlights, Aizawa could just make out a dark silhouette clutching a guitar.
The sound of the screeching instrument filled the air, the noise backed up by four enormous speakers that cornered the platform.
"[Two heroes, huh?]" said a voice in English over the speakers. "[Welcome to the show~!] I expected a bigger turn out than just the two of you, but beggars can't be choosers! Welcome Midnight and-… Whoever you are."
The screeching guitar faded into an impressive riff, while the speakers rocked sickening levels of bass into the sound.
Aizawa leapt for the woman, blade held high, but his opportunity was lost. She grabbed him by the wrist and twisted.
His knife fell and a veil of dust lifted from her skin: her Quirk. His hair floated about his face as he activated Erasure and the dust vanished, leaving her in shock. The blade clattered at their feet, but the noise was consumed by the reverberation of that crazy guitar.
She wasn't as good as him in hand to hand combat, especially without her Quirk, and he was about to reclaim his knife when the guitarist began to sing.
"[Crazy, but that's how it goes, millions of people, living as foes~!]"
The entire building vibrated with the voice, and both Aizawa and Midnight were forced to part and cover their ears. She took the opportunity to kick his knife away, skidding it across the roof, with just enough force to leave it teetering on the edge. Aizawa had to decide whether it was worth the hassle of retrieval. The voice shook his senses.
"[Maybe, it's not too late, to learn how to love, and forget how to hate!]"
What the fuck was this guy's deal? Was he a hero?
"[Mental wounds not healing, life's a bitter shame! I'm going off the rails on a crazy train!]"
More fireworks flared overhead, in time with the music, and he could hear windows smashing from prolonged exposure. It was so loud and his ears were ringing but the sound would not stop.
"[I'm going off the rails on a crazy train!]"
Aizawa made a split-second decision to go for the knife after all, but that required taking his eyes off the R-Rated hero. He flew for the blade, holding his breath to avoid her Quirk, but he lost his footing when something wrapped around his ankle and pulled. His mask slammed into the ground. Overhead he heard the thrum of a helicopter, just barely over the music, and another spotlight was on him. What the fuck was even happening?
"[I've listened to preachers; I've listened to fools! I've watched all the dropouts, who make their own rules!]"
His knife was in reach. He stretched his arm out and grabbed it, just as the force around his leg wrenched him backwards. Aizawa flipped onto his back and used his hands to launch his body at her, legs outstretched.
"[One person conditioned to rule and control, the media sells it and you live the role!]"
His boot collided with her shoulder, sending her reeling back, but the thing on his ankle remained: her whip. He rolled as he hit the ground, knife held at a safe distance, and looked up to confirm the presence of the chopper. In the flare of the spotlights, he could clearly make out the sheen of television cameras, aimed at him and the Vocal Quirk user.
His temper flared, along with his Erasure. Well, now he was pissed.
"[Mental wounds still screaming, driving me insane! I'm going off the rails on a crazy train! I'm going off the rails on a crazy train!]"
Midnight wrenched at his leg again, but he stood firm. Blood was running from his ears, and he decided right then and there that he no longer gave a fuck about her.
This man, with his stupid guitar and his stupid flare and his stupid fucking song, was going to be his first victim. He'd wanted to be an underground villain, but he could work with an audience if he didn't have a choice.
He lurched at the whip and sliced through it with his knife, catching the R-Rated hero by surprise.
"[I know that things are going wrong for me, you gotta listen to my wor-]"
The villain turned on that silhouette, the red lenses of his mask glowing with rage. "Shut the fuck up!"
The figure jerked in the spotlight as his words were stymied, but the playing of his instrument only slowed for a moment, before he lost himself in an impressive guitar solo. Shouta's ears were ringing, dripping with thick warmth.
His mind flashed back to his first (and only) Sports Festival, to a kid who'd also had a Vocal Quirk, who'd been carted away on a stretcher.
Could this man still breathe? Why wasn't he doing anything to stop Aizawa?
He leapt the building, forgetting all about the R-Rated Hero in his anger: he'd destroy this hero instead!
-x-
He couldn't breathe in. He couldn't breathe out. He couldn't sing. He couldn't speak.
But Present Mic wasn't going to let that keep him from his big moment. He was thankful it'd happened so close to his solo, since he didn't have to voice this part anyway.
Don't panic, he told himself. You can hold your breath for a long time, just don't panic.
He had plenty of oxygen still in his lungs. Mic hadn't expected to run into an Erasure Quirk so soon, but he was always prepared for the worst. On his belt were three smokebombs that would disrupt his line of sight if necessary. If he just pretended everything was fine, the hero with Erasure would never know he wasn't fine.
Well, was he a hero? He'd been attacking Midnight, right? Who was he then? Was he also a-
He looked up and saw a silhouette cutting through his spotlights, directly above him.
Shit.
Hizashi slammed his foot on the peddle and closed his eyes, just as the lights swapped to strobe mode. He moved his body to the side, attention still focused on his strenuous guitar playing. Despite his sizeable headphones, he heard the man land where he'd just been, but although he tried to inhale, he couldn't. The man was still looking at him.
Shit.
He stepped back again, just in time to avoid the knife, and he opened his eyes. It was difficult to make out details about the man in the flashing lights, but the round red eyes of the mask definitely left an impression.
"I'm gonna shut you up for good," growled the attacker as he swung again with the knife.
He had to stay calm. If he panicked, his oxygen would…
His solo ended and he pressed a button on the guitar. The speakers flared blue and the pre-recorded riff played in place of his strings. Such an annoyance, but he was not going to leave his song unfinished.
He dodged another swing of metal, but couldn't help but smile. Judging by the expert way this guy held the knife, he was a lot better than this. The sensory overload was affecting him, making his movements jerky, and there was an odd thrill that came with that revelation.
The chopper roared above, the spotlight glued to their struggle. Mic was always better with an audience.
At the limit of his lungs, he pulled a smokebomb from his belt and activated the metal 'beak' on his own mask, closing it with a snap.
Smoke filled the air. His mask's filters activated. Hizashi leapt back and inhaled as deeply as he could, bringing the oxygen straight to his diaphragm as he'd trained himself to do. He swung the guitar onto his back and activated the directional speakers across his belt.
The microphone in his mask kept the distortion to a minimal as he sung the next line with complete abandon.
"[HEIRS OF A COLD WAR, THAT'S WHAT WE'VE BECOME!]" The cloud from the smokebomb sailed back with the force of his voice, but so did the man with the Erasure Quirk. Clearly it was too much for him to handle at point blank, for he leapt further back as cracks ran through his red lenses. His knife flew off the edge of the building, but Present Mic didn't relent. "[INHERITING TROUBLES, I'M MENTALLY NUMB!]" He slammed his foot on another pedal, and the wall behind the Erasure man flew back up, slamming into him from behind. This was too easy. "[CRAZY! I JUST CANNOT BEAR; I'M LIVING WITH SOMETHING THAT JUST ISN'T FAIR!]"
He heard the wail of sirens below. Present Mic kicked another pedal on his platform, and an explosion rocked the building beneath them. The bottom floor was completely gutted with flames. Screams echoed from the streets below, but the pyrotechnics were really just for show.
He looked to the left – Midnight was staring between them, completely dumbfounded. So, she didn't know anything about this guy either. What was this guy? A hero? A villain? A vigilante?
His head turned back to face the masked attacker, but just as he did, something connected with his body. Mic flew sideways, skidding across the platform's surface, the air knocked from his lungs. He went to inhale instinctively, but panicked when he couldn't.
He reached for another smokebomb, but someone grabbed his jacket and hauled him up before he could get it. "You're dead," hissed the voice, muffled beneath the mask.
The worst part, however, was Present Mic's song: he was missing the final chorus.
Before Hizashi could successfully reach the smokebomb, a tree branch swung at their heads. Both men saw it before it connected, and the Erasure user pulled them out the way, his gaze shifting towards the new hero: Kamui Woods.
Dammit, Mic didn't want to deal with him. That guy had no taste! His debut was ruined! His song was ruined too! Then again, it'd still been rather fun, and the cameras…
He inhaled when the Erasure user looked away. "It's time to blow this [popsicle stand]," Present Mic said, surprising the man who still clung tightly to his jacket. Guess he'd bring him along too, if only for the media sensation.
Hizashi grabbed his attacker by the arm and pushed a button on his jacket. Those lenses turned back on him and through the cracks he could just make out a pair of glowing red eyes.
A black vortex emerged around them. The Erasure user tried to shove him away, tried to escape the fate that awaited just beyond the gloom, but it was too late for that. The villainous mist swaddled their bodies and cloaked the air.
When it cleared, they were gone. The speakers grew quiet. The night air stilled. Everything grew deathly silent with their successful escape.
Song: Crazy Train by Ozzy Osbourne. Reviews are appreciated!