He was wrong.
In the oppressive, all encompassing, suffocating storm that made up his thoughts, that was the only thing that stayed long enough to be acknowledged. He was wrong. Years filled with preparations, even longer filled with fear and self loathing, migraine after seizure after bloody migraine and for what? For Hisashi to suddenly decide that after nearly a decade of his torturous 'family bonding,' that today would be when he'd take a day off. And Izuku…
He didn't know what he was feeling.
He's had escape plans fail before they even began in the past, and each time was yet another blow to his already frayed mind. Each yet another reason to give into the path his father has laid out for him.
But this was different.
This failure, this… this… tragedy, was the only thing he could describe it as. So much had gone into this, so much of him had gone into this. Everything he'd done, every day he'd survived, it was all for this. To escape the nightmare that had become his life. To finally leave this hellhole and just watch as Hisashi burns everything Izuku made for him to the ground.
And then to… not do that. To wake up in the morning and have to do the same thing he's been doing? To have to keep working for that bastard, keep building him the empire he's done nothing to deserve, keep giving him the world and getting nothing in return but-
~CRACK~
'And there goes another one,' Izuku thinks bitterly, throwing a third broken pencil in the small trash can next to his desk. He's going to have to ask Hisashi for more.
With a shaky sigh, he begins rummaging through his desk for a spare, absentmindedly holding the half-finished analysis to the door.
"Izuku," Hisashi starts as he opens the door. Right on time, too, because of course he's punctual now. "I nee-Oh." He cuts himself off, taking a moment to readjust himself before taking the book. "Damn, I need to get used to that."
"Get used to what?" asks raspy voice that Izuku barely suppresses a grimace at.
Of course it would be Shigaraki. Of course they (They, because he knows damn well that this man child isn't the one in charge) didn't send someone more reasonable, like Giran, or Kurogiri.
Shigaraki was, in every sense of the word, a spoiled brat. But he wasn't just any spoiled brat, he was a psychotic spoiled brat. Paired with a Quirk Izuku wouldn't trust most sane people with and far too much power for someone of his mental state, he becomes the perfect cocktail of everything he doesn't need to be dealing with right now.
"It's his Quirk," 'no no nO NO N-' "He can basically see the future. He probably knows everything we're about to tell him."
'… Fuck,' Izuku doesn't try to resist the grimace at that, wilting under the intense half-glare Shigaraki levels at him. Despite his lack of sight, even he can see just how fine a line his father just put him on.
"You can see the future?" he asks, the crazed lilt in his voice now replaced with something far more unnerving.
And now his day just got a lot more complicated. Shigaraki came with many emotions, most of which could be prefixed with the word "Violently." Anger, at some slight, imagined or otherwise, was easy to redirect. Greed, which only really happened after seeing his notebooks, was something Izuku avoided entirely by hiding those under the dirty mattress he uses as a bed.
Interest, however, was by far the worst. It meant that he wanted to know more, that he'd ignore the knee jerk reactions that Izuku relies on to survive this encounter. Not until he learned what he wanted, at least.
'Keep him busy, downplay your abilities, talk him in circles,' he repeats in his head like a mantra, because, despite the ridiculous number of times he ran through this conversation in the relatively short time he had, he could never find a reliable way through this part.
"W-well, only tec-technically, sir," Izuku begins, really leaning into his stutter. 'No reason to play fair at this point.' "I-I can only s-see the p-possibilities."
"Possibilities?"
"Y-yes, I-I just ch-choose the most l-likely p-path. B-But it has to be p-possible, and it's… it's n-not a-always accurate, s-so…"
"Choose… how?" Shigaraki asks and wow, he's really close, isn't he?
'You can step in any time now, dad,' Izuku thinks bitterly, before continuing. "S-Some things are m-more likely t-to happen th-than others…"
"So… what would that be?"
'What would that…? Oh fuck!' "Wh-What d-do you mean?" Izuku tries weakly, hoping beyond hope that Hisashi realizes what's going on and stops this, despite his abysmal social awareness making that particular wish a nigh impossibility.
"What I mean is, does it work? Does our plan work out?" Of course he'd ask that. The one thing he didn't have time to run through was why Shigaraki was here to begin with, and the last time he didn't know something… He barely suppressed a shudder. He'll just have to stumble through this, make sure he doesn't use any definite terms and hope- "Do we really kill All Might?"
"… You want t-to kill… k-kill… All Might?" Izuku whispers, too stunned to remember he was supposed to know this already. 'Hisashi, what the hell are you trying?'
"Yes!" Shigaraki jumps up suddenly, pacing the room and gesturing wildly. "This system! This world! It's all flawed! It needs correction!
His voice drops into something low and dangerous,"And it's all built off of him. That damn All Might! Thinking he can just smile and make everything better. That bastard needs to be…"
Izuku tones out Shigaraki's tirade and just… stares. He wants to… kill All Might. The Symbol of Peace, a man who's abilities lie somewhere between "The entirety of the standing Japanese army," and "Every natural disaster, all at once." That All Might.
And he wants to… Izuku turns to stare blindly in Hisashi's direction. Shigaraki wants to kill All Might, and Hisashi approves it. One of the few men even Izuku can't even begin to hope to work around, and he just told a third party not only that he could, but that he could kill him.
He… He was supposed to leave today, he realizes suddenly. He was supposed to leave. Finally get back the life that was taken from him.
Then it hits him. He knows why this one was different. This plan wasn't just supposed to work. It would have worked. Hell, it has worked, he saw it, he lived through it! The only possible way for it to fail was if something else came up and stopped it before he could start!
And that something, the thing that ruined his chance for a real life, his life… was a fucking suicide mission?!
"So does it work?" Shigaraki cuts through his thoughts, and something clicks.
Shigaraki is too blinded by hate to see reason. Hisashi's too stupid to know his ass from a hole in the ground if it was labled for him.
And they'd both kill each other in a heartbeat if they thought it would benefit them.
"… M-Maybe?" Izuku forces out, his stutter and child-like voice doing and excellent job of masking the hate being poured into a new plan.
"'Maybe'?" Hisashi echoes, voice hardening with a dangerous undertone.
'Game.' "W-well it is All Might we're t-talking about. H-he's not… n-not exactly an easy t-target."
"But you can do it, right?" Hisashi asks, but the silent "You will do it" is all too obvious.
'Set.' "… W-well, if I c-can t-take c-care of a few p-possibilities-"
"No," Hisashi shuts him down abruptly, "You're gonna make it happen wi-"
"What do you mean 'Take care of'?" Shigaraki cuts in.
'Match." "W-Well," Izuku starts, staunchly ignoring the glare he feels Hisashi giving him and forcing his face to not break into a victorious grin. "When I use m-my Q-Quirk, I c-can repeat the p-possibilities until I find a way t-to get th-the one I want."
"Repeat? As in, still with your Quirk, repeat?" Izuku nods. "And you can do that until you know we'll win." Not we, necessarily, but he still nods."So you could make it impossible for him to-"
"Not happening," Hisashi interrupts.
"What?! But he can make it literally impossible for us to lose!"
"I don't care, he's not leaving."
"We're paying you-"
"You're paying me to help make the plan, it's your job to do it." Hisashi drops the book back onto Izuku's desk, abruptly turning to leave without giving Shigaraki a chance to respond.
"You fucking-" Shigaraki starts to argue, but his words are cut off as he slams the door behind him.
And Izuku? He's already days ahead of them both.
The kid can see the future.
Of course, many people could see the future. Many more could change what they saw. But this kid, Izumu? Ikuzu? Whatever his name was, he could see the future, make changes to that future, and then see that future, before ever leaving his Quirk. That was… an unprecedented amount of power. Almost too much, given the criminal empire Warkasi, some criminal upstart with no real ambition, was able to make with it.
Needless to say, Shigaraki had to have him.
The initial attack went off without a hitch, which meant the kid either didn't see them coming, unlikely, or he hadn't ratted him out. Judging from the blindfold, burn scars, and completely terrified way he held himself, he didn't think he would have, but he still had his worries. Stockholm syndrome and all that.
Another grunt withered away under his hands, his shoes being dusted in his remains. He scowls; despite how well the raid was going, he still hated escort quests. Useful as he'll be, Shigaraki couldn't wait until they got out of the house's anti-warp zone so he could leave and complete this shitty sidequest.
"Finally," he groaned, turning a corner and laying eyes on the kid's room. "I swear, I've seen castles with less rooms."
Touching the door, he pushed his Quirk to its limits to-It's gone.
Shigaraki blinks owlishly as the cloud of dust floated to the floor. Really? This was the kind of defence he put around the only thing that made him any sort of threat? No Quirk resistant metal, no foot-thick bulkhead, but a normal door?
Honestly, he's doing him a favor by taking the kids off his hands.
Swiping away the last wisps of the door, he finally stepped through the entrance, and laying eyes on his target.
Jeez, he hasn't seen him for days and he still hasn't changed out of that oversized hoodie and pants he first saw him in. Wait, did he even have any other clothes? A quick scan of the room told him that, unless Hisashi's keeping them somewhere else, he didn't. Damn, yet another thing-
And then he was on the ground, scrawny arms wrapped around his midsection. Fucking brat tackled him. With a growl, he reaches for him. Not to kill him, no, but maybe he'll inform him of the… is he crying?
Fat, ugly sobs were muffled in his shirt, and quiet "Thank you,"s filled the spaces between his crying. This… wasn't what he expected. Violence? Sure, he'd believe that. Resignation? He was kind of banking on it, but he was prepared for other things. But relief? A crying mess of blubbering gratitudes? Should he… comfort him? Sensei did that for him, so he supposed that he should try it.
"It's… okay?" he mumbles, more of a question then anything. Careful to keep his pinky up, he softly laid his hand on the boy, patting his back-
Wait
"Motherfucker…" He had a collar. A large, heavy duty shock collar that would look more in place on one of those special Quirked guard dogs than on a kid. A quick glance at the door and, yep, there are the sensors.
Oh, he gets it now. The guards that Shigaraki could beat with one hand tied behind his back, the flimsy door, the big, intimidating fence that would fall over if you drive into it hard enough; they weren't there to keep people out. They were there to keep him in. Of course; abused, used, underfed, judging from the weight, and more powerful than Hisashi's entire gang combined. Of course Hisashi would put everything he had into keeping him in.
"Sir," Kurogiri begins, drawing him out of his thoughts, "As touching as this is, I believe we're overstaying our welcome."
"Fuck, right." Another touch, another crackle, and another one of Izuku's restraints falling away in a cloud of dust.
The kid gasps, feeling his now free neck and the-Jesus, were those scars?! How many volts was he pumping into this kid? "W-we're leaving?" the kid-Izuku! Right, that was his name-Izuku asks, almost in a whisper.
"Yeah," Shigaraki says as he pushes him off, rising to stand, "Grab your things… if you have anything."
"R-right." Quickly, Izuku starts moving around the room, collecting his depressingly small number of personal items.
"Fuck," Shigaraki whispers softly, "I didn't think it would be this bad."
"One never does until they meet them," Kurogiri starts, listening to the sounds of a distant battle pouring down the hallway. He contemplates for a moment, before deciding they have enough time for a small story. "We had a similar reaction when we found you, you know."
"Really?"
They delve into Shigaraki's cloudy childhood days, too distracted to notice the sudden stop to the crying.
Anger was an excellent motivator, Izuku thinks. Anger, and, admittedly, hunger induced recklessness, sure, 'Thanks for forgetting to feed me again, dad,' but he was so close. He hasn't gotten this far in the real world since Hisashi got his collar.
And his collar! He gingerly rubs his empty neck, revelling in how light it feels. He knew the collar would always be the biggest problem when he got out, but it's gone! And the door that took him years of practice to get through reliably, that's also gone. And so are the guards, and the fence. Even Hisashi was gone, having ducked into the panic room at the first sign of trouble.
And all that's left are them. Two people, and he's gone. He just needs to… look at them…
A brief glance at Hisashi's newest client.
One of his hands are on the rickety chair that came with his desk, while the other holds his blindfold. One tug, one push, and he's gone, he just… has… to…
The agonized cries of a man who's seen too much.
He can do this, he can do this. He just has to look, it's not that hard… Just look at them… and their men… and Hisashi's men…
The furious roars of those surrounding him.
No he can't. He can't do this. His hands fly away from their targets, disgust rising in his throat at what he was about to do to them.
The blinding pain of his hand charing. The sickening pops of his skin searing. The mocking sneer of his father's laughing.
And dad. He told him he wasn't allowed to look at people any more! He'd be furious and he'd hurt him and-
"Ten dead in a bank robbery gone wrong…"
And… And he's not like him! He can't just go around hurting people who get in his way. That would make him no better tha-
"Though promising to leave the civilians unharmed if given a getaway vehicle, several were found to have been executed upon his leave…"
… No… He's… He can't do this.
His hands are set staunchly at his sides, his entire form tense, waiting for the two men to finish so that they can take him-
"Well, if you're gonna be a hero one day, you need to think of all of the possibilities!"
His breath hitches.
"MOM!"
No… The pain, the anger…
"SAVE HER PLEASE!"
None of it's enough to put them through that.
"There's nothing we can do… "
But he made a promise.
He tears the cloth from his eyes, reaching back to the chair. The two villains are too engrossed in their conversation to notice, but that's fine. They'd notice this.
He pushes it over, a sharp ~thunk~ drawing the villain's attention.
Furious green eyes meet red and gold.
Those bastards betrayed him
That was all Hisashi could think of as he watched Shigaraki's men wreck his house. He growls as he watches one bleed out over his carpet. Don't they know anything about etiquette?! That rug was easily worth more than all of their lives combined and they just ruined it.
He holds the end of a cigarette to his mouth, lighting it with a huff before flipping it and putting the butt in his mouth. He had the money to replace it, don't get him wrong. In fact, he probably replaced that specific rug every other week do to ruining it himself, but it's the principal of the matter. Coming into his home, getting their blood all over his things. He 'ought to go out there himself to show them their place!
~KZRRT~
Hisashi's head shoots to a GPS screen. The GPS screen, the one he used to track Izuku if he ever were to get out.
The screen that showed nothing but a large "ERROR" in place of Izuku's location.
"Fuck!" he barked, quickly flipping through the cameras to get to Izuku's room. He has to look for a minute, seeing nothing but the back of his son, until he spots two shadows looming through the doorway. The doorway that he knew for a fact was locked before this happened.
He debates it for a moment. On one hand, they're definitely trying to take him. Going to, seeing how far they got already.
On the other, the only road out of here goes through the city, and seeing as the heroes there are on his payroll, they wouldn't get far.
Hisashi puffs smoke at the screen, leaning back and deciding it would be easier to let them go. Besides, whatever they do to him would be a good warm up for what he'll do for him for not warning him-
Izuku took off his blindfold.
Hisashi blinks, leaning forward to get a better look at him. Izuku pushes the chair over, the shadows' heads whipping up before freezing.
"That's my boy," he grins. He's seen what his Quirk does to other people, and judging by how long he's holding them there, those two are gonna have to be dragged out of there.
Maybe he'll go easy on him this time. After all, he is trying to fix it. Sure, he'll have to hit him some for looking at people, but he won't use the stove this time.
Then they fall, the two shadows finally being given bodies as they collapse, clawing manically at their eyes. "That'll teach ya'." He has no doubt their begging for a mercy they lost the chance to the second they trespassed on his property. He can't hear them, though. He got sick of Izuku's crying and took out the audio from that room years ago.
He sighs contently, leaning back again. Finally his son is toughening up. Took him long enough, too. Hisashi was beginning to think he'd have to start bringing people for him to practice on for him to finally get serious, with how timid he was.
But then Izuku's on the floor, sobs racking his body and Did he just puke?
Never mind. He's definitely going to start bringing in people for him to practice on. Damn Inko, making his son go soft.
And now Izuku's leaving, still shaking like a leaf in the wind, but moving with a confidence he hasn't seen in him since they were in Musutafu. Hisashi's grin spreads wider. 'Good,' he thinks 'Go teach those bastards some manners.' He switches over to the entrance hall, his disdain for their treatment of his home now drowned out by the gratification he'll get at seeing them all scream.
He sighs contently, leaning back again. Finally his son is toughening up. Took him long enough, too. Hisashi was beginning to think he'd have to start bringing people for him to practice on for him to finally get serious, with how timid he was. Damn Inko, making his son go soft on him.
But… shouldn't he be here by now? It's been long enough for those two to stop yelling, or at least stop struggling, and he still hasn't got there. Maybe he should…
'Nah.' Hisashi spits the now spent butt on the floor, flicking another out of the box. 'Probly' just don't know where he's going, he never really-.'
"Bitch!" he roars at the screen, cutting his own line of thoughts short. One of them just took down the chandelier! How do you even do something like that?! That thing has to be three stories up at the least!
'That's it!' He stands suddenly, his chair getting thrown to the floor. He's gonna go roast those bastards! He could've bought another car with how much he put into that, and they just-
~BANG~
He whirls back to the screen. Guns? Really?! They brought…
… Maybe he'll let Izuku take care of them. After all, it was his fault they're here to begin with. If he had warned them beforehand, they'd have never made it past-
That's not one of Shigaraki's.
It was Izuku, a small handgun held to the sky, a wisp of smoking still encircling the muzzle. "Fuck yeah! Kick their asses!" Hisashi laughs, pulling his chair back up. Everyone was looking at him, all frozen in various stages of fighting. Well, everyone did include his own men, but he was gonna kill them anyway for letting them get this far.
And then they're screaming. His grin turns savage at the hellish choir's macabre song. Anyone who's brain didn't flatout shut down had begun clawing their own eyes out in some fruitless attempt to make whatever they saw stop.
Izuku begins picking his way through the bodies, giving the particularly wild victims a wide berth. Quick, efficient, and, most importantly, brutal. "Must be finally rubbing off on him," Hisashi mumbles, finally lighting the forgotten cigarette between his lips.
That's the type of son he wanted. Sure he's smaller than he'd prefer, made to look even shorter by the large duffel bag slung over his shoulder, but he more than made up for that with the sheer-
Izuku has a duffel bag.
Not just any duffel bag, though. It was the same one Shigaraki had paid him with a few days prior. The one Hisashi hadn't emptied yet.
The one holding several billion yen.
"Why would he…" His eyes are blown wide. Shigaraki just cut a path through his house, one that leads straight to Izuku's room.
He flips through the cameras again. They knocked down the gate, disintegrated both the front door and Izuku's door, killed all of his guards. There was even a trail of dust for Izuku to follow out. Izuku…
He planned this.
He never talked that much with any of his other clients. Sure, he'd let them talk to him, if only to watch him squirm, but he never talked back. He knew they'd want to take him for themselves, and purposely overshared to get to do it.
And they did.
Of course they did. He knew they would! He-That!
"You ungrateful little shit!" Hisashi bellows. He's gonna fry that fucker! Thinking he can just walk away with his money! He snatches the shock collar remote off the desk-
~Click~
-and holds it there.
Five, ten, fifteen seconds. The guy who made it said it'd cause permanent damage if he went any longer than two, but he didn't care. He's gonna be begging for the collar once… he's…
Slowly, almost robotically, he turns to the GPS screen. The one displaying the massive "ERROR" in place of coordinates. It was almost like…
He glances back to the screen, seeing his son walk right out the front door.
The disintegrated front door.
Oh, now he's gonna get it! That collar cost him a fortune! He jumps up, chair tumbling to the floor again.
"MAKE IT STOP!"
But he stops.
His eyes are drawn to the writhing figures on the monitor, both his and Shigaraki's men alike. All screaming their lungs out. That… Izuku did that. All of it.
… Wait, what was he thinking?! He was Blowtorch! His hand wraps around the door knob, about to throw open the door to his hidden room with righteous fury filling him. As if he's intimidated by some snot nosed-
"ANYONE!"
His body betrayed him as he turns back, unable to pull his eyes away from the bloodbath.
Suddenly, one of his men launches to his feet. 'Moonfish,' his mind supplies. One of his more reliable people. Good fighter, if a few strange fetishes.
His head shakes like a rabid dog, teeth growing down to the floor and lifting him up. "MEAT!" he screeches, his teeth tearing towards one of the fallen. Hisashi doesn't know which side, his mind too far away because he was eating him.
The image flickered out with a haunting finality, and he finally remembers to blink. During his stupor, he had somehow walked back to the desk and shut the cameras off.
Some part of him objected, saying they needed to keep watching Izuku to see which direction he goes. But the rest of him heaved the idea of seeing that thing Moonfish was reduced to. He'll need to… punish Izuku for this. Definitely. This was the reason he took his seeing privileges.
He ignores the part of his mind reminding him that the last time this happened the man had only had a small seizure.
But… he… he needed to find him… and he… Well, he certainly can't be expected to go do it himself. Yeah, of course! What was he, some shitty gang banger?! Of course he wouldn't lower himself to that level.
Pulling out his phone, he spat out the stick of ash that he'd been huffing on. He'll get the cannon fodder to find Izuku, he has far more important matters to see to.
And if he just so happened to forget that most of his clients were probably feeding Moonfish by now, well, that's just a happy coincidence.
"One-one-nine, what's your emerg-"
"This is Warkasi, I need to speak with the Commissioner."
