Giran sat lazily in the karaoke booth. An hour earlier, he had received a text from an anonymous number, with a location and a booth number. He knew who it was from. He flipped through his phone, reading the news feeds. Nothing interesting. He took a deep huff of the cigarette clenched between his teeth. The filter had torn long ago, small paper pieces falling onto his tongue, giving a bitter taste to the drag. He sighed. He really needed to stop biting the stupid thing, it's just a bad habit at this point.
He let out the smoke gathered in his lungs. It lazily travelled upwards as it was gently wicked away by a small vent in the ceiling. As the smoke cleared from his vision, a green-haired man had appeared in the seat across from him. Long ago, Giran used to have to fight his instincts not to appear scared at the sudden arrival of his boss. At this point, it just seemed natural for him to do so.
"Well, well, well..." The older man sighed, lips slightly turned upward. "The mastermind himself has decided to make an appearance."
Izuku had a bottle of soda in his hand. He sipped it before replying, "I guess that means it's the time I tell you my secret plan, right?"
"Only if you don't have a backup plan in case this one falls through."
Izuku smiled, before taking another sip from his glass bottle. The liquid inside is quite dark, but once the light hits it just right, it turns into a curious maroon. Giran recognizes it.
"I don't know how you can drink that." He states. "I've always wondered who in their right mind would order Cinnamon Soda. But it makes sense that you would have it then."
The other man shrugs. "I'm not in my right mind?"
Giran grinned, leaning forward. "Of course not. I actually know what you plan on doing. Only someone crazy would think of something like the Chicxulub Project, and only someone crazier would be willing to pull it off."
"And yet you choose to help me."
"You made me an offer I couldn't refuse. Help get rid of the hero society and become one of the richest people in the world at the same time? Now how can someone as greedy as me refuse such an offer?"
Izuku just sipped his cinnamon soda, feeling the slight burn in his throat as he swallowed. The spice left a nice aftertaste in his mouth.
Giran continued the conversation. "So how is Tomura doing?"
Midoriya's smile dropped almost immediately. "...Still the same."
"Ah," the broker responded. "And Kurogiri?"
The villain leader sighed. "Doing what he can. I can tell the stress is getting to him, but he refuses to let me help. He's been researching stuff in his off time. He told me he wants to try EMS on Tomura. I'm hoping it helps."
"EMS?"
"Electrical Muscle Stimulation. Supposed to prevent disuse atrophy."
"Ah." Giran didn't have anything to respond with. He leaned back, taking another puff of his cigarette. He released the smoke, wincing as the bitter taste stung his tongue another time.
Izuku scratched his neck absentmindedly. "In any case, I didn't come here for small talk. What's the progress on the Chicxulub Project?"
"On schedule. We've been switching chemical production plants every two weeks, using new shell companies each time. Assuming that there's no hiccups in the production line or storage locations, we'll reach the minimum threshold in six months. Should we continue after this point, we'll reach maximum capacity in another three months after that."
Izuku nodded, pressing his fingers to his lips as he was processing this new information. He had begun mumbling to himself again, though Giran could easily drown out the murmur with the sound of the rather impressive singer belting it out in the booth on the other side of the wall behind him. He began browsing through his phone again, though it wasn't long before Izuku snapped himself of his thoughts. He looked back up at the broker sitting across from him.
"We're incredibly close to the finish line at this point. As much as I would like to rush, we've only managed to get to this point by remaining in the shadows. Make sure to get some new recruits into the League every now and then. We need to keep up appearances that we're doing exactly what Sensei used to do."
Giran grinned as a money envelope was thrown onto the table between the two of them. It fell down with a hefty plop. He picked up the envelope, counting the money inside. He looked back at Midoriya. "Hey, boss..."
The green-haired man pinched the bridge of his nose. "No, my old Rogue hoodie is not for sale. Stop asking."
"But come ooooon! After your identity was revealed, you don't use it! Can't you just imagine it being in the display case of a museum or some eccentric collector? It deserves so much more than collecting dust in your closet!"
"You're more interested in the money those locations would provide you for giving it to them."
"That makes it a win-win for everyone!"
Izuku smirked. "Goodbye, Giran."
"See you around, boss."
Izuku normally doesn't walk around Musutafa. There's always heroes on patrol, and it doesn't help that despite how everyone comments on how 'plain' he looks, there's only one person that people know of who has dark green hair and bright green eyes.
Of course, Izuku would be an idiot if that's what he looked like while walking about the city. Thanks to one of the many shapeshifting quirks he has access to, he rid himself of his iconic looks, opting for plain brown hair, dark brown eyes, and a more angular face. His freckles were mostly gone, though he decided one or two on his cheek wouldn't hurt.
He looked utterly and completely unremarkable. If anyone had actually focused on him, they would have thought he was some overworked salaryman on his way home. No one would spare him a second thought.
Or at least, that's what Izuku was expecting. Instead, he was pulled out of the street by a crazed man who was brandishing a katana.
"I know who you are." The assailant hissed.
It took Izuku a moment to realize who exactly this person was. The dark bags under his visible eye, the way his blonde hair draped over the right side of his face, but what finally made it click was the small line that travelled across the man's face and over his nose. Almost like it was roughed up from some sort of mask being worn constantly...
"Setsuno." Izuku finally remembered. He dropped the shapeshifting quirk, reverting to his true form. "How did you know?"
The man gritted his teeth, tightening his grip on the katana, which was only an inch away from Midoriya's throat.
"I was off on a mission when you raided our base. I came back to find everyone else dead. All by Rogue's hand." He gritted his teeth. "Then I learn it was you, Izuku. Your name plastered all over the news. So I studied you. How you carry yourself. How you walk. I wanted inside your head."
Izuku didn't speak. Setsuno continued. "Every night since you killed Overhaul, I've stalked Musutafa and Hosu, looking for someone who acted just like you do. I may have made some mistakes before, but you've already outed yourself. I have found you, Izuku!"
The green-haired man stood there, before responding with a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank goodness it was just that!"
The former yakuza member froze in place, confused. "What do you mean, 'just that?!'"
"Oh, I was worried you had managed to peer through my quirk! Luckily, it was just you obsessively stalking me."
Setsuno's eyes widened in anger. "Are you mocking me?!" He pulled back the katana, ready to strike.
"I will avenge Overhaul! Die!" He brought the katana down with a swift swing. Izuku easily sidestepped the strike, then proceeded to stomp on the blade. The green-haired man felt the blade snap into two like a twig under his foot.
Setsuno felt the blade's balance shift, pulling back in surprise at the show of force.
Izuku didn't let up. He grabbed the former yakuza's arm, flipping him roughly over the shoulder. The Overhaul fanatic crashed to the ground with a sick thud.
Izuku turned around, and then smashed his foot into the man's arm that held the katana. He felt the bones crack as Setsuno yowled in pain. The katana fell out of his grip, clattering across the alley. Midoriya quickly pulled out a knife hidden in his belt buckle before dropping to his knees next to the injured yakuza. He placed the dagger right on the man's throat. As Setsuno realized what was happening, he gave a throaty chuckle.
"Do it." He growled.
Izuku stared the man down coldly. "You knew you were never going to beat me. I didn't even have to use a quirk."
Setsuno grinned. "I wanted you to finish the job. Without them, I am little more than human garbage. If I tried to off myself then another hero would have come along to 'save' me. I want it to be you. I want you to be the one to do me in."
The villain's stare hardened. He didn't expect this.
"Well? Are you going to grant my wish?! Kill me!"
Izuku's grip on the dagger tightened. The blade pressed harder against Setsuno's neck.
"Izuku!" He howled. "Hurry the fu-"
His rant turned into gurgles as the knife sank into his neck. He quickly retracted the blade, watching as blood began pooling on the ground. Izuku stood back up, grabbing the hem of his shirt tightly. He slowly stepped down the alley, and froze when he could have sworn he heard Setsuno choke out a faint "thank you."
He punched the wall in anger. "Damn it!" He grunted.
He scratched his neck, looking around. He spent too much time outside. It was time to go home.
He snapped his fingers, a warp gate opening next to him. He immediately walked through, leaving Musutafa behind.
When he exited the warp gate, he was greeted with the familiar sight of his home. Sure, it was an underground bunker, but unless you noticed the lack of windows, you would have expected it to be a normal house. He took off his shoes, placing it in the small depression into the ground where he warped in. He and Kurogiri call it a genkan, but there wasn't any door next to it leading out.
As he walked into the living room, the first thing he saw was Kurogiri. Izuku could tell just from looking at him that the poor man was exhausted. He was passed out on the couch, slumped into the corner as if he simply threw himself there.
The green-haired villain closed his eyes, calling forth one of his quirks: levitation. He pulled the former bartender out from the couch, slowly as to not wake him. He carefully guided the floating body towards a room in the back of the house, placing him gingerly on the bed. Izuku pulled the sheet over the man, making sure he was comfortable. In this position, he could tell Kurogiri was much more relaxed. He breathed through his nose, smiling slightly as he exhaled.
Kurogiri still smelled like Angostura Bitters.
As he left the room, he passed by a closed door down the hallway. It was the door to Tomura's room. He gingerly placed his hand on the doorknob, but paused before turning it. Izuku frowned. He realized he still reeked of cigarette smoke and blood. Perhaps it wasn't best to talk to Tomura right now.
He pulled his hand back, before bringing it up to his face to cover his yawn. He was tired. He trudged back to his room, before shedding his clothes and throwing himself onto his bed. It wasn't long before fatigue lulled him into sleep.
A/N: Hey guys! Late update, I know, but I thought I should get it out of the way. Hope you enjoy it! And thanks for all your comments and support!