Obligatory reminder this is a horror story about a serial killer.
Chapter 13
So Hitoshi was right. Not all of the apartments seemed to be occupied. Or at the very least, most of the occupants weren't at home.
He and Jirou hid across the street behind a convenient pile of empty boxes, crouching low to avoid being seen. They couldn't see Hagakure, but they could see the doors open when someone answered them. Or rather, if someone answered.
The one she'd knocked on before had been the one closest to the stairs. The neighboring door opened to reveal a young woman in her pajamas, looking fairly annoyed at the lack of any apparent visitors. After that, a good three minutes passed before the second door from the stairs on the second floor opened. This time an old man peeked out, looking around in confusion before closing the door.
No other doors opened before they heard her voice beside them, startling them. "Okay, I knocked on all of them, but only three people answered," she announced.
"Holy shit, do you just float?" Hitoshi blurted in shock. He'd expected to at least hear quiet footsteps or something, but he had absolutely no warning before she was suddenly there. Even Jirou looked spooked, and she had Quirk-enhanced hearing.
The invisible girl laughed. "Nah, I'm just really good at sneaking around barefoot! Invisibility is like my one advantage, and there's no point in it if people can hear me coming up behind them! I've been practicing my sneak-attack skills since I was a baby!"
It was far too easy to imagine a tiny Hagakure surprise-attacking her preschool classmates and scaring them half to death. Partially because she was invisible so he didn't need to imagine a younger version of her, but also because it just fit her personality.
"So, what's your take on the people who did answer?" he asked.
"Okay, so that first guy? He's totally in college. I could see textbooks on the floor behind him, and he totally just has one of those college guy pads, you know?" He didn't know, but he'd take her word for it. "The woman next door seemed really irritated though. I got a peek inside her place, and it looked, uh, pretty messy. Lots of beer cans. I think she had a hangover from the way she grumbled about the sun."
"At least you knocked instead of ringing a doorbell," Jirou muttered wryly.
"And then the old man on the second floor seemed to have trouble walking," she continued. "It took him like a minute to get to the door. I feel kinda guilty making him walk over for nothing, honestly," she added sheepishly. "But no one answered at any other apartment, not even to say 'go away!'"
"Just because no one answered doesn't mean no one lives there," Jirou pointed out. "They could just be out. I mean, it is a Saturday, so it's a good time to run errands. Or sleeping off a hangover like that woman."
"You don't say," Hitoshi muttered, pulling out his phone. The mention of Hagakure spending a minute knocking on the old man's door reminded him of the time limit he'd placed on the text he'd sent to Ojiro. He'd muted his phone just to be safe but he found replies waiting from him and two others on Curve. Given they'd just about hit the five minute mark he promised Ojiro, he checked his text first.
'What? Are you crazy? Why would you DO that?'
Hitoshi snorted as he typed a reply. 'Just to make sure we don't waste police time. Also we're still alive.' He sent that just so Ojiro wouldn't have to worry before typing a more detailed report. 'Hagakure took off her clothes to knock on doors while Jirou and I hid across the street to watch. 3 out of 8 people answered. So far no one suspicious.'
In the time it took him to type that report Ojiro replied, 'Good.' And then once Hitoshi sent his report, Ojiro quickly responded, 'Wait, what do you mean "so far"?'
'We're talking about whether the other apartments are actually empty or not. Might do a little more digging just to be safe.'
He glanced up at the girls to rejoin the conversation. "So thing is, I could hear a TV or radio on the first floor, too!" she said. "It was the apartment next to the hangover lady. It was super loud, which might be part of why she was so irritated. But whoever's in there never answered."
"Then the person there might have hearing issues and just didn't hear you," Hitoshi said.
"Or they just accidentally left it on and left," Jirou added. "I know our cable lets you pause real-time TV for up to an hour, and then it resumes play. I can't tell you the number of times I've been just hanging out in the living room and suddenly hear the TV blaring in the kitchen because my dad forgot he paused it before leaving..."
"I couldn't hear anything in the other apartments though," Hagakure continued. "So I've got absolutely no idea if the people there just aren't there, or if they're just empty."
"Or ignoring you," Hitoshi added. "If there is shady business going on, they probably wouldn't want to open the door for just anyone."
"Do the doors even have peepholes?" Jirou asked curiously.
"Nope!"
The lack of peepholes didn't phase Hitoshi about his theory. "If they're expecting visitors, they could have some coded knocks. Or just text or call whoever when they arrive."
"Either way, still doesn't answer if any of the apartments are actually hiding anything," Jirou sighed, pulling out her own phone. "By the way, we should probably update the people we texted that we're not, you know, dead."
"Already ahead of you," Hitoshi said, now opening Curve. He found responses from Todoroki and Tokage. Nothing from Asui, Monoma or Aizawa, but oh well. Three less sets of questions to field.
Actually, more like four. Todoroki replied to his initial explanation with a simple 'Okay?' Which, he wasn't sure what else he expected.
Tokage, however, replied with, 'Komori? What did she look like?'
He typed back, 'Brown hair, wore a lolita outfit with a mushroom theme?'
She soon responded. 'Okay, that sounds like her. Weird though. I'm pretty sure she lives in a different part of town from where you guys are?' She then added, 'I'm talking 'opposite direction from UA' different.' Hitoshi frowned, the message stirring his memories. Yesterday Sero had commented on the fact he and Komori rode the same train, along with...
"Hey, do either of you know where Kaminari lives?" he asked. "Or just what train station he goes to?"
"Uh, not off the top of my head," Jirou replied. "Why?"
"I'm talking to Tokage on Curve—"
"Who?" Hagakure asked.
"A girl from 1-B. We ran into her, Monoma and Asui on Thursday after school because they ride the same train, and we all ended up adding each other on Curve."
"Oh, oh! You should add us too, then!"
"Maybe later," Hitoshi deflected. "But anyways, she says that she thinks Komori lives on the opposite side of town. And yesterday Sero mentioned he, Komori and Kaminari all ride the same train. So..."
"I don't know the exact place or station, but I do know he's in the opposite direction of here," Jirou said with a frown. "He has to ride one of the eastbound trains after school." And their current location placed them west of UA. "This would be way out of the way for someone to go if they donʼt have any specific plans."
"Maybe she just wanted a change of scenery too?" Hagakure suggested. "I mean, we had to ride a train to get here from your house too!"
"Yeah, but only for two stops."
"Something seems off," Hitoshi muttered with a frown, watching as a new reply from Tokage appeared.
'Also, she still seemed under the weather yesterday, so kinda weird sheʼs out today. Was she alone?'
'Yeah, as far as we could tell,' he typed back. "She missed school Thursday," he told the others out loud. "And according to Tokage and Monoma, she still didn't seem back at one hundred percent yesterday."
Jirou frowned. "Something's definitely fishy there. I mean, after the news yesterday, going anywhere alone is just... kinda risky, you know?" That hadn't even occurred to Hitoshi. He'd actually managed to forget about the whole dead body hidden in cherry trees thing for a little bit.
Too bad he was now back in cold, hard reality.
Still, she raised a good point, and it painted a rather chilling picture. He didn't even say anything, just typed to Tokage. 'I know this is bad, but I have to ask. Does 1-B do the hair test, or just... test it directly? You don't have to say HOW it's tested, just yes or no to the hair test.'
It took almost a full minute before she responded. 'Hair test for those who have hair, but sometimes some extra direct tests on random people. But I think Komori only had the hair test yesterday because of her cold.'
Even over text, Hitoshi could tell Tokage had likely reached the same conclusions he had. "I don't think that was Komori," he whispered, face paling as he stared at the screen. The girls were deadly silent.
"So, it is a trap?" Hagakure finally whispered, sounding a bit shaken.
"I don't know," Jirou said. "It's still way too weird, for all the reasons we mentioned earlier. Like, why tell Shinsou in front of us? I mean, sure she whispered it, but why would she think he wouldn't tell us what she said? Why not just invite him directly? And if she wanted to lure him or all of us into a trap, why not try to just invite us directly?"
"And if she wanted all of us to come, she could've told us all instead of just me," Hitoshi added. "Or like Jirou said, invite us. Telling me not to go somewhere that's probably out of our way isn't a surefire way to get us to actually, you know, go there. Unless it's some really incredible reverse psychology trick," he added sarcastically.
"Just, something doesn't add up," Jirou said with a frown. "We're missing something big." She was right, but neither Hitoshi nor Hagakure had any ideas on what that was.
"Welp, I got nothing!" Hagakure declared, confirming that. This seemed to irritate Jirou, her eyes twitching before she turned to the building.
"Screw it," she muttered. "I've got one more trick up my sleeve. Shinsou, text whoever you're talking to that we're going in again. Follow me."
She stalked off without giving Hitoshi a chance to respond, and he stared before quickly exiting Curve to open his texts with Ojiro. The blond had sent some new texts since he checked on Tokage's messages, but he didn't bother reading the probable lecture and just typed a new message. 'Okay Jirou's got a new plan and I'm following her, so consider this a new five minute warning?'
He hit send, and waited long enough to see Ojiro reply 'you're kidding' before he pocketed his phone and sneakily jogged after Jirou. She stood outside the door next to the hangover lady's apartment, and just as Hagakure said, he could clearly hear a TV or radio was on inside, music and voices audible even before he left the sidewalk in front of the building. He frowned at the door before glancing at Jirou to see her... earlobes stabbing into the wall...?
"Ugh, that radio is so loud," she groaned quietly. "And they have such bad taste in stations. But other than that, I think that place is clear."
She yanked the jack out of the wall, moving to the next apartment while Hitoshi trailed behind. "I'm sorry, what? What are you doing?"
"When I plug my Earphone Jacks into walls and stuff, I can hear sounds," she explained. "Itʼs like how when you put your ear to a door, except way stronger. So even if they don't answer, I can tell if people are inside or not." She plugged her jack into the wall beside the door and winced as she added, "And also when the pipes are running, apparently. Shit, what the hell? How old are those pipes?"
"Are they that loud?"
"There's a lot of bangs and clatters," she confirmed with a grimace.
"Maybe someone next door is taking a shower!" Hagakure whispered, startling Hitoshi and Jirou. They turned to see... absolutely nothing.
"Uh, Hagakure?" Hitoshi asked after a moment. "Are you, uh...?"
"Still naked? Yep!" Wow, absolutely no shame. "You guys didn't give me a chance to get dressed, and I didn't want to miss out on anything! Plus this way if something does happen, the bad guys won't know I'm there!"
"...Right," Jirou muttered, withdrawing her Earphone Jack. "Anyways, other than the pipes, I don't hear anything inside. No movement or fans or anything. I think the place is empty."
"Let's go upstairs then," Hitoshi said, and they headed up. The stairs were sturdier than he'd initially expected at first glance, though he winced at how loud they creaked under their weight. Even Hagakure couldn't keep totally quiet.
Once they reached the top Jirou plugged her jack into the wall beside the first door, reporting relative silence inside. "I can hear the hum of a fridge though," she said. "And also a ceiling fan, too. It's on a pretty high setting."
"Guess whoever it is doesn't like being hot," Hitoshi said with a shrug.
They skipped the next apartment since Hagakure got an answer there, and went straight to the third. Once again Jirou winced and grimaced. "I can hear the pipes here, too," she reported. "I think Hagakure was probably right about the person below taking a shower. I bet I just couldn't hear the pipes over the radio."
"So what, they put on the radio to drown out the pipes?"
"I don't know, I'm just guessing," she said with a shrug as they moved onto the last apartment. Once more she stabbed her earphone jacks into the wall, and then frowned. "Huh. That's weird."
"What's up now?"
"I can hear the pipes here too, but they're really... muffled?"
"Well, it's not like this apartment is directly above or next to that one with the shower, right?" Hagakure asked. "So it's probably all muffled because of the distance!"
Jirou shook her head though, saying, "No, this isn't that kind of muffled. I can still hear the banging, but not as loud as I'd expect."
"What does that mean?" Hitoshi asked.
"I have no idea," she replied uncertainly. "Just... I don't know, something feels off." She pursed her lips as she glared at the wall, but then jumped at a sudden knock on the door.
"Hello?" Hagakure called. "Anyone in there?" Hitoshi and Jirou stared at her in shock, but then Jirou's head snapped back to the wall, eyes wide.
"Guys, I hear muffled thumping inside," she hissed.
"Muffled thumping?" Hitoshi repeated, and she nodded.
"Yeah. Guys, this isn't normal. I've done this before, and sounds aren't supposed to be that muffled." Hitoshi frowned, a thought occurring to him.
"What if the room's soundproofed?" he asked, and she gave another start.
"Shit, I think that's probably exactly it," she said, much grimmer now. There weren't many good reasons for the apartment to be soundproofed. She frowned then and turned to them. "Wait, I hear some sort of—what the heck?" Hitoshi followed her gaze and startled at seeing a paperclip and bobby pin shaking in the door's lock.
"Are you picking the lock?" he asked incredulously.
"Yeah," Hagakure replied, for once sounding serious. "Something's seriously super wrong, and Jirou's obviously not gonna hear what it is clearly." The paperclip and bobby pin pulled away from the lock, quietly set on the floor instead of returning to wherever Hagakure had gotten them.
This was a horrible idea. They should just call the police now and get the hell out of dodge. But before he could say as much Hagakure opened the door, and audibly gasped. That was enough to make Hitoshi decide, 'well, we've come this far anyway' and peek inside. He felt instantly chilled.
The room was dark, all the walls covered in foam tiles used for soundproofing and giving the room a claustrophobic feeling. The only light came from a lamp plugged in the back corner, and even that was partially obscured by two cheap folding screens used as a partition for the back of the room. He could hear water running in the bathroom, the pipes loudly banging and creaking just like Jirou described.
But what held his attention was the mosaic of photos and posters taped to the screens.
He entered the room slowly, as if in a trance. Even from a distance and in the dimness, he could recognize multiple posters showing UA's main building and gates. Magazine cutouts of teachers, blown-up photos he recognized from various news coverage of the year's events. Printouts of those very articles, even screenshots from a few videos judging by the ticker bars at the bottom of the images, all mixed in with countless glossy photographs.
And as he got closer, he realized most of the photos were of inside the school.
Nearly every single person in Class 1-A was featured in some way. Iida seated at his desk talking to Uraraka. Ashido, Kirishima and Kaminari joking around as they waited in the lunch line. Satou helping Iida pull on his costume's boots in the changing room the first day. Todoroki at his desk ignoring everyone. Hitoshi himself, Ojiro and Hagakure at one of the afternoon training sessions. And so many, many, many more.
In most of the photos, the people were clearly unaware of the camera, the angle distant and almost awkward. But there were exceptions. A photo of Aoyama striking a pose in his costume outside the changing room. Kaminari at the after-school training pretending to be holding Shouji by standing close to the camera while the other boy stood further away. Aizawa in his sleeping bag with one eye open to glare at the camera. Present Mic striking a pose, one hand over his chest and the other outstretched as if singing opera.
Uraraka, Ashido, Hagakure, Jirou, Kaminari, and Kirishima all seated at a table with ice cream and grinning at the camera as they struck poses.
"I remember that," Jirou said faintly as she came to his side. "That was the Monday after USJ, when we went out for ice cream. We, we got another customer to take a picture..."
She trailed off, and Hitoshi swallowed, eying the other photos. Some of them had students from 1-B and other classes, as well as a few teachers, but the vast majority centered around Class 1-A. It was a stalker's treasure trove, the mere sight making his skin crawl. But as he looked over them, one detail soon stood out.
"I don't see Bakugou," he realized.
And that was when they heard a thump and loud grunt accompanied by metallic rattling, making them start. Their attention finally tore away from the photos, reminded that this wasn't the whole room. The two folding screens blocked off the back of the room, they couldn't even see the bathroom door from here.
And they could still hear the groaning of pipes.
Before he could build up the nerve to look he heard Hagakure gasp and stumble back, followed by the soft thump of her back hitting the foam tiles on the walls. "Oh my god," she whispered, barely audible, and Hitoshi knew whatever was on the other side would be bad.
But they were already inside, and he was there. So, he took one step to the side and looked.
And he felt instantly sick.
Three figures sat on chairs, restrained by a mixture of duct tape, ropes and chains. One had their arms tied together in front of their torso and had what looked like a box on their lap, writhing in an overly plush armchair; beside them another figure was also squirming and grunting, more quietly than the first. The last slumped in their chair with head lolling forward, eerily still compared to the other.
In the darkness Hitoshi couldn't make out much at first, with the window behind them covered by carpet to further block any light. But even then, the first person's hair stood out, pale and almost glowing in the darkness.
"Bakugou?" he whispered.
The blond gave a muffled shout, and suddenly light flooded the room as someone—Jirou probably—hit the light switch, making him jolt. Once his eyes adjusted to the brightness he felt even sicker, recognizing the three figures.
The first was Bakugou, just like he thought, tied down to a ratty-looking recliner with chains crossing over his chest. His arms were held in front of them inside the box he'd seen, which turned out to be made of metal. He'd been restrained to an almost ridiculous extent, the chains barely budging as he strained against them.
But the other two were more horrifying. Because squirming next to him was Sero, eyes filled with tears as he gave a muffled whine and squirmed in his chair. He didnʼt have chains like Bakugou did, but his wrists were tied to the arms of the chair and ankles taped together.
And in the last chair, still far too motionless, was...
"Uraraka," Jirou whispered, face pale as she joined Hitoshi. Even at her name the girl didn't move, head still lolled forward with hair falling over her face.
"Fuck," Hitoshi croaked, finally regaining his senses. He charged forward, grimacing as he glanced between Bakugou and Sero. Bakugou had duct tape over his mouth, but Sero had cloth knotted over it. He made a decision and went for the second boy first since it would be quicker to remove, quickly untying the knot and pulling it away. Sero spit out another wad of fabric, coughing and sputtering.
"Sh-shit," he whispered shakily, voice hoarse. Whether from lack of use, or screaming, or both, Hitoshi didn't know. "Sh-Shinsou, Jirou... Thank god, th-thank god...!"
He began sobbing, an ugly noise that made Hitoshi's nerves rankle. "What's going on?" he demanded. "How long have you been here?"
"L-last week, Wednesday," Sero whispered, and Hitoshi's eyes widened with horror. They'd already started the hair tests then.
He heard a rip followed by a pained grunt, making him turn to see Jirou had ripped the duct tape off Bakugou's mouth. The blond scowled as he spit out more wadded up fabric, lips curling back in clear displeasure. "Shit, that hurts!" he grumbled.
"Sorry Bakugou, I don't think we can take our time to be gentle though," Jirou said, quickly moving to check Uraraka. She gently lifted the girl's head, and Hitoshi inhaled sharply at how pale she was. Her eyelids were closed with heavy bruises underneath, her mouth left ungagged allowing them to see her lips looked blue. For a horrifying moment Hitoshi thought she might be dead, but Jirou pressed her neck to check for a pulse and said, "Shit, she's alive, but she looks really bad."
"No shit she looks bad," Bakugou growled. "Fucker's been draining her blood almost as much as soy sauce face!" The nickname and language had Hitoshi turning to look at him in surprise and confusion, not used to that tone from the blond.
"Who?"
"Me," Sero whispered, and, well, that made sense, but why the nickname at all?
Jirou, however, was focused on something else now, staring at the bathroom door. It was closed, but they could still hear the constant pitter-patter of water, the pipes' groaning even more clear now. "That's what I was hearing," she whispered, gently releasing Uraraka's head to step towards it. "No one was showering downstairs, it was this bathroom..."
Sero gave another sob, visibly choking down a wail. "N-no," he choked out. "D-d-don't, don't go in there..." The plea had them turning to him with a frown.
"What's in there?" Hitoshi asked, dreading the answer. Sero couldn't answer, tears streaming down his face as he kept sobbing.
"Red hair," Bakugou bit out tightly, his whole posture just tense as he leaned forward. "A guy with red hair. Kiri-something." Their blood ran cold, turning to the door in horror. Kirishima.
Jirou recovered from her shock first and tore the door open, and then stumbled back with a gasp as a horrible stench seemed to burst out. "Fuck," she choked, hands flying to cover her mouth, and then scrambled to race out of the room. Hitoshi stood paralyzed, staring at the open door and listening to the steady rush of water from inside.
He knew whatever was in there would be far worse than just his three classmates tied up. The smell... It wasn't like—like yesterday, but it was still... bad. Very, very bad.
He inhaled shakily, and almost gagged when he inhaled the odor in the process. Fuck. "I'm sorry Kirishima," he said, squeezing his eyes shut as he darted forward. He groped blindly until he felt the door's handle, grabbing it and yanking it shut with a slam. He let out the breath he'd been holding and gasped, shaking violently as he released the handle. "I'm so sorry..."
A soft groan sounded behind him, and he turned to see Uraraka's eyes open, blearily staring into space. She turned to look at him, her gaze visibly unfocused. "Wh...what...?" The word was soft and slightly slurred, and he swallowed harshly.
"Uraraka, it's okay," he forced out. "We, we're going to help." She blinked once, still looking dazed, and turned her head away. Then she startled, her eyes growing wide as she shrunk in her seat.
"N-no," she whispered weakly, starting to tremble. "No, no, no, no...!"
"Shit," Sero yelped, high-pitched and strained, and Bakugou cursed. Hitoshi felt his blood instantly turn to ice as he saw all three of them were looking towards the ends of the folding screens, turning in horror to see...
Uraraka.
Another Uraraka, wearing tight running shorts and a tank top, with one hand over Jirou's mouth and the other holding a knife to her neck.
Hitoshi's breath stuttered at the sight, cold horror crashing over him like a tidal wave. Jirou's eyes were wide and filled with terror, her face pale as she tried to keep her head bent back as far as possible from the blade. Her earphone jacks were caught by the hand currently covering her mouth, held between fingers and pressing the ends tight against her cheek and away from the fake-Uraraka's hand.
"Shit," Hitoshi whispered, feeling panic rise as he processed how bad the situation was. "Shit! Let her go!"
The other Uraraka smiled, her eyes cold. "Hey, Uraraka-chan," she said, ignoring Hitoshi completely. The real Uraraka's breath hitched, a cry caught in her throat as she shrank back against the chair. "Shinsou-kun should pick up that sock and put it in his mouth, don't you think?"
The fake's eyes flickered to the floor, and Hitoshi followed her gaze to see a sock not far from where he stood. He froze, staring in growing horror as he spied dried reddish-brown stains on it.
"No," he whispered. "No, I-I don't—"
Jirou gave a muffled cry, and his head snapped up to see the knife pressed even closer to her throat. A sliver of blood dripped down from it, bright red and dark against her pale skin, making his breath catch.
"Bastard!" Bakugou spat, visibly grinding his teeth as he struggled against the chains tying him to his chair. "Leave her alone!"
"Shinsou-kun should really put that sock in his mouth, right, Jirou-chan?" the fake Uraraka said brightly, never looking away from Hitoshi.
Jirou gave another muffled cry, tears trailing down her face as she looked at Hitoshi pleadingly. He stared in horror, his stomach churning, but then forced himself to bend down and slowly pick up the sock. He swallowed back the urge to gag as he balled it up and shoved it into his mouth, wincing at the awful taste. With that he couldn't really talk, not without spitting out the sock.
He couldn't use his Quirk.
The hyper-vulnerability had his heart pounding as he turned to face the fake, feeling powerless even without his hands bound. Not-Uraraka just smiled even brighter and tilted her head slightly. "Good! Now, get the duct tape, over there behind Uraraka-chan's chair, and put some over your mouth!"
Hitoshi winced, eyes wide as he looked over to see a roll of duct tape sitting on the floor next to Uraraka's—the real Uraraka's—chair. He shuddered but obediently went to pick it up, fingers shaking as he picked at the end. A sharp rip echoed through the room when he yanked on it, making him wince again.
"Shit," Bakugou hissed. "Shit, stop it!"
"Donʼt stop," not-Uraraka said, and Jirou whimpered as the blade pressed close once again. "You know what to do." Hitoshi shuddered as he looked at the blade, and gave the tape a harsh jerk to tear off the strip he held.
The others were deathly silent even without their gags, watching with pale faces as he put it over his mouth. He slowly wound it around his head, never looking away from Jirou and the imposter. The strip he'd torn off wasn't long enough to wrap around his head completely, but it seemed to be good enough for the fiend, who beamed with approval.
"Great! Now grab the handcuffs from under Sero's chair!"
Sero flinched at his name and whimpered, too freaked out to even talk. Hitoshi felt his blood drain from his face, knowing once he did that he really would be helpless. But he had no choice.
Not with the knife at Jirou's neck.
Hagakure's probably still here, he told himself as he slowly walked over, getting on his knees to reach under the armchair. I texted Ojiro right before entering and I sent a message to Aizawa-sensei. Help will come soon. I need to just go along with this until it does. His fingers brushed metal and he pulled out a pair of handcuffs, noticing more dried brown crusting the inner edges of one cuff.
He knew exactly what she wanted him to do with them, and the others did too. "Dammit, don't do it!" Bakugou shouted. "You know that's just going to end with you fucking trapped—"
Jirou gave another muffled cry, cutting off his rant mid-sentence, and Hitoshi's head swiveled to see more drops of red racing down her neck. "Shinsou-kun," Uraraka said, no longer smiling. "Put the handcuffs on. Hands in front of you."
Hitoshi felt like crying as he snapped the clean cuff around his left wrist, hands shaking violently as he then fitted the other cuff around his right. Squeezing his eyes shut, he pressed it against his leg for leverage and heard the click of the lock slotting into place, sealing his fate.
When he opened his eyes, not-Uraraka had a bright smile again, beaming at him like a puppy who had done some cute trick. "Good job, Shinsou-kun!" she praised, and finally, finally pulled the knife away from Jirou's throat.
And then stabbed it into the side of her neck.
Hitoshi's scream was caught behind the sock and duct tape as he watched the murderer casually shove his classmate to the ground behind her, knife still sticking from her neck. Uraraka gave a strangled sob and Sero's cry caught in his own throat, both shrinking in their seats. Bakugou roared as he strained against his bonds, the box and chains loudly rattling with his efforts.
"BASTARD!" he screamed. "YOU MOTHERFUCKER!"
"Now, now, that's so mean," not-Uraraka said as she walked towards Hitoshi. Her face began to drip and melt, gray sludge falling around her face and arms in messy clumps to the ground. Hitoshi stared in wide-eyed horror as Uraraka's features gave way to the killer's true face, the last of the gray sludge plopping to the floor and dissolving just inches from where the bound teen sat. "You know I'd never fuck my mother, Kacchan."
Midoriya Izuku smiled down at him, still covered in Jirou's blood.
On October 28, 2020, I sent this message in the open-fics-prompt channel on the Ignite to the Call Discord server:
"Okay how can we make a cursed AU where Izuku is a horrible person?"
And after much joking, Ky (Bakubye on AO3) sent this message: "What about Izuku with Toga's quirk?"
The truth has always been on the Discord server, from the very beginning. And some of you came so close, yet so far.
We look forward to your reactions.