AN: Sorry I'm so damn late.
SMRY: Ded Hands meets Stainy-boi days before the Sports festival begins. Magne and Toga have a thinking moment. BHJ meets Mustard and Ded Hands. Not necessarily in that order.
Desolation: A Tomura Shigaraki SI-OC
Chapter Fourteen: Here We Are
"This one?" Mustard asked, his uncertain eyes trained on his companion's stoic face.
Shimura's mouth twisted into a small smile, and he turned towards his friend. "Yes. This is the place."
They stood in front of the Oguro dojo, the streets crowded with civilians going about their normal routine, happy and unaware of that which lurked amongst their numbers. The place where a vigilante taught others how to defend and protect themselves, and others if need be. Shimura seemed to appreciate this place, but Mustard felt shame well up in him like bile.
He didn't even know why he felt that way. Perhaps it was because he would soon be in the presence of a man who was certainly better than him? A man who hadn't allowed himself to be consumed by his darker urges?
'It doesn't matter.' Mustard thought. 'At least, not right now.'
Mustard took a breath and slipped into a skin that he had not worn for a very long time.
He allowed himself to become Yoichi again.
I led Mustard—
(Yoichi)
—Yoichi through the entrance of the dojo. Inside the one-room building stood the students and the master, as expected.
What was not expected was the familiar green-haired boy among them.
(Well, shit.)
I put on a friendly smile as I stepped closer to the bigger man and the smaller, younger man, and then bowed. "Sensei Oguro."
Knuckleduster turned to me and smiled. "Shigaraki!"
The bigger man motioned to Yoichi, who stood a bit more behind me and to my left. "Who's this then?"
I let the left corner of my lips quirk upward a bit further. "A new student, hopefully."
Knuckleduster eyed the smaller, younger man with a gruff interest. "He's a fuckin' reed." Then, he turned back to Midoriya. "As in contrast to this one, who's built like a brick house!"
Said brick house reddened from the praise he received.
I let out a huff of amusement while Yoichi squirmed a bit. "He's a bit…thin, I'll admit, but he has…potential."
One of Knuckleduster's eyebrows quirked upwards. "Really now? Then he won't be opposed to joining today's lesson!" He roared, turning back to the other students. "Get into ranks, maggots—you too, Greenie and Reed!"
Said students began to form up into rows, standing perfectly still as Oguro turned back to me. "Will you join us for today's lesson?" He asked me.
I smiled.
Magne and Toga sat alone in the dusty room that the Shie Hassaikai had been so kind to provide them with. Both had yet to receive orders…from either leader.
("Are you going to tell us to betray them?" She asked the black-clothed teenager.)
Shimura had only given a vague answer to the question, smiling one of those vague smiles that only someone with greater knowledge of the situation had. Toga hated those smiles. Toga hated Shimura and his pretty little boyfriend.
…No, that was not entirely the truth. She hated Shimura as much as Shimura romantically loved Mustard—which was not at all. It was more of the fact that the serial killer hated the fact that Shimura had managed to trick her, and Mustard had managed to wound her. Others had managed to escape her before, of course, but few had managed to trick her, and none before Mustard had ever managed to wound her…
…And now there was another one that she 'hated'—Kai Chisaki, also known as Overhaul. He was like Shimura, but without his kindness, or Dabi's obvious mania. No, the man was cold and calculative, using his allies as tools and shields that could be cast away at any moment.
Not to mention…the little girl.
Both Magne and Toga had only seen the girl once, but the look in her eye…
It made the blonde's stomach curl in ways she didn't think it could.
Magne seemed to agree. The two of them didn't speak much, with her being one of Shimura's valued lieutenants, and her being Dabi's partner-in-crime…but the two agreed on this.
Kai Chisaki had to die.
("No," He replied, smiling one of those damn smiles. "I expect you to do what you think is right.")
It was late when Stain and Spinner entered the bar—about 11:30 PM, from my counting.
Still, many members of the League were awake, including some of the part-timers, and the business of selling alcohol to those who wanted it was currently booming.
As the killer stepped into the bar proper, many of the members of the League turned their gaze towards him as he approached the counter, seemingly intending to sit in the seat next to my own stool.
I gave the two heavily armed men a warm smile and gestured them to sit next to me. "Ah, Stain the Hero Killer! I've heard a lot about you! Come, come, sit down, your apprentice can join us!"
The older man did so with a gruff growl, while his purple-haired companion stayed silent.
(Stabby fucker. Maybe this time he's learned some actual manners!)
My smirk faltered a little, almost turning into a scowl before I calmed myself and turned my attention back to the man with no nose. "So, what brings the vicious vigilante into this den of murderers, thieves, and whores? Good drink?"
The customers laughed at that, laughter that was loud and rapturous, like a host of angels…or demons.
Stain, on the other hand, was less amused. "I came to see who this 'Death Hand Shimura' really was, and if he was truly worthy of being followed."
Straight to the point, this man.
I gave him another one of my winning smiles as Kurogiri passed drinks over to a few members. "And what do you see, Stain?"
He grimaced. "I have yet to know. Tell me, Death Hand Shimura, what do you believe?"
I shifted in my seat and began to speak. "That change must come. This Society of Heroes is nothing but a farce, a way to uphold old grudges and discriminations—!"
"I've already heard about that part." Stain interrupted. "I know of your convictions there, and for that, I have a question for you."
"And what is this question?"
"Are all men made equal?"
I paused at this. Due to my 'modern' upbringing, I would have said yes…had I not now lived in times that proved that sentiment wrong. Quirks had changed things. Some men were born stronger, others born smarter or faster. Still, others were also born weaker, or slower in both mind and body.
There was also social status to consider. Those with weaker quirks were degraded in the new Japanese Society that had arisen from the ashes of the old. Those without quirks were treated worse. And those with quirks that were considered powerful were elevated beyond measure…all thanks to the actions of a single man.
In the end, I suppose it did come back to All Might.
"No." I replied. "But I believe that we exsist to make them equal."
AN: And that's a wrap. Due to the changes in my personal schedule, I'm going to make a bit of a writing order.
Out of this World: Observer's Cut
Desolation
And finally, a new addition to the Desolate Multiverse…
Three Kings: War for Westeros
With this new announcement comes a summary for the next entry of the series…
Three Kings: War for Westeros
At a crucial moment, King Robb Stark attends the parley between Stannis Baratheon and his younger brother, Renly Baratheon. What occurs next changes the fate of Westeros, for better or worse.
Or: Robb learns to navigate the Game of Thrones, Renly learns that the real world is not like the songs of old, and Stannis discovers that duty is not all there is to life.
In spite of all this, wars are waged, people die, and the agents of Doom approach, led by a man with one eye and blue, bruised lips.
AN Cont.: Desolation can now be found on Archive of Our Own, under Locomotive117.
