Nerves twisted Izuku's stomach and made him queasy as he stepped out of the portal. Shigaraki and Kurogiri at his back provided some comfort, but not much as he took in the room and it's occupant. Before he was ready a hand fell on his shoulder to gently urge him forward.

The room was uncomfortably warm. Even in his light clothing he could feel sweat beading down his back. It appeared to be a study, books lining the walls and a large ebony desk near the center. The lighting was dim with only one lamp on the desk turned on. From what Izuku could tell, the walls were a rich burgundy color, accentuated by dark bookshelves. The floor was white granite, broken up with intricate crimson rugs.

A man sat behind the desk, appearing to type on a laptop and not bothering to greet them as he finished his work. The most striking thing about him was his lack of eyes, upper face heavily scarred. That did not seem to hamper him. Medical tubing lined and disappeared under his skin and clothes. He seemed to be wearing a black tailored suit, broad shoulders filling out a jacket despite the heat.

After several minutes he finally seemed to finish what he was doing. His head lifted and Izuku got the sense that he was being scrutinized despite the old injury. An amused expression twisted his lips. "Tomura, introduce me to your friend."

The other man stepped forward with an eager grin, tugging Izuku to follow until they stood in front of the desk. "Sensei, this is Izuku Midoriya. I want him to join us!" He sounded like a child excited to show off to a parent.

"He has these books," he waved to Kurogiri, signaling the shadowed man to step forward and place Izuku's analysis books in front of Sensei. "He could help us figure out how to bring down All-Might!"

Being praised so much made the greenette squirm in embarrassment. His anxiety spiked and he kept his eyes glued to the floor as the man picked up one of the notebooks to page through. Tomura's hand squeezed his shoulder lightly, offering silent support. It didn't really help, but Izuku appreciated the sentiment.

Finally, "Exemplary work. A little rough, but promising." The man turned his attention back to Izuku, closing the book and placing it on the stack. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you have an intelligence quirk."

The words jolted Izuku into looking up. Sensei was regarding him with a pleased grin, though something about it was unsettling. Even if he had eyes, the boy suspected the smile wouldn't reach them. It made him shiver. Ducking his head, he rubbed the back of his neck. "I-it's not that good, sir. J-just what I've seen from public hero fights."

Sensei chuckled, sounding amused. "Let me be the judge of that. These books seem old. As a test I want you to investigate and analyze a hero of your choosing. If it's to my standards Tomura can train you. For now, you're dismissed. Tomura, you stay."

The younger man shot Izuku a pleased grin, patting his shoulder. "You'll do fine, shrimp. You can use my computer if you need to."

Not sure what else to say, he nodded. Kurogiri collected the notebooks before opening a portal. "Come, Izuku-san." He lightly guided the greenette, stepping through with him back into the apartment.

"Izuku-san, I must return to Master Shigaraki. Please get something to eat and rest." The shadowy man waited for assent before setting the books down on the sofa and disappearing back through the portal.

Not sure what to do, Izuku loitered in the middle of the living room. The solitude was refreshing for sorting through his thoughts, but oppressive. Deciding to take Kurogiri's advice, he padded into the kitchen to reclaim his half eaten sandwich. He really wasn't hungry after the meeting but it was something to he nibbled on a piece of crust he contemplated his options, few though there were.

Sensei was scary in the same way Hisashi was when Izuku was bad but his mom was around. Pleasant, but with a menacing aura that promised punishment. Izuku knew that if he messed up there would be pain despite what Tomura assured him. He could ask the younger man to kill him, but he hesitated now. He and Kurogiri had shown him more kindness in two days than anyone else had in years. He didn't want to ruin their efforts just because of some second thought jitters.

To the opposite, he didn't think he could stomach killing heroes indiscriminately. Those that deserved it, yes. But there were genuinely good heroes out there that did their best to uphold equality and justice. Best Jeanist, for example, regularly donated to homeless shelters and had very few complaints against him. Compared to All-Might and Endeavor, Best Jeanist was a saint.

Thinking of it objectively, Izuku couldn't believe he'd idolized the number one hero so blindly. Never again. He stood and cleaned up crumbs before snagging a notebook and pen. Making his way to Tomura's room, he hesitated a moment before sitting at the desk. A vague plan formed in his head but it needed research first.

Logging into his accounts on various hero forums, he caught up on recent news. Mirko was apparently involved in a scandal at the moment for punching a fan. A little searching yielded the information that said fan had groped the Rabbit Hero during a photo. Izuku thought that punching him was justified, so kept tabbing through discussions. Any promising tidbits were written down in his notebook for further research.

An aching back and stiff shoulders drew him out of his searching some time later. He stretched with a quiet noise of discomfort, glancing at the time. He'd been at it for four hours. The fact startled him to his feet and he wandered into the living room. Kurogiri and Tomura still weren't back.

Wavering with indecision, his growling stomach eventually led to him creeping into the kitchen. Kurogiri had told him to help himself but it still didn't feel right to just take their food. Several minutes were spent fidgeting before he peeked into the fridge. Maybe he could make up for it by cooking them dinner, too? He was investigating the cupboards when his stomach made the decision for him.

Gathering what he'd need, he got to work. An hour later he was plating three dishes of katsudon when the front door opened and closed. Izuku nearly dropped a cutlet in surprise.

"Something smells amazing." Tomura's quiet comment was followed by footsteps. The man peered into the kitchen and raised an eyebrow in surprise. "The shrimp can cook!"

Izuku blushed as Kurogiri appeared behind Tomura with a pleased hum. "Thank you, Izuku-san. Let us get cleaned up and we will join you."

"T-take your time." The greenette sat down to wait.

It only took the two men a few minutes to return. Kurogiri looked surprised and pleased to see a setting for himself. "I don't really need to eat, but I enjoy it." He explained as he took a seat.

After a chorus of "thanks for the meal" they all dug in. It wasn't the best katsudon Izuku had ever had but it was undeniably good. As he ate he noticed Tomura now wore gloves, the same that Izuku had described to him. He felt a small swell of happiness that his advice had indeed been helpful.

Before he knew it, he'd eaten everything but some of the rice. The other two polished off their entire plates before Kurogiri stood to put away Izuku's leftovers and clear the dirty dishes. The greenette made to help but was waved off. "It's quite alright right, Izuku-san. You cooked, so it's fair that you rest."

"I want to talk to you anyway, shrimp. Did you make any progress on Sensei's assignment?"

"Oh, yes. L-let me get my notes." He stood to retrieve the notebook from Tomura's room, feeling a little awkward now that the room's owner was home. He sat it down on the table, open to the correct page.

The first page consisted of a numerical list of names.

Death Arms

The Fly

Snatch

Herculos

Native

Mount Lady

Figaro

Kirin

Mr. Brave

Uwabami

When he received a blank stare, Izuku rushed to explain. "I-I looked into some things while you were gone. These heroes… w-well, they're bad. S-so I made a list of easiest to hardest to… um…" He trailed off before gathering his resolve. "Kill."

"Bad how?" Tomura seemed less enthusiastic now.

It made Izuku clam up for a moment but forced himself onwards. He tapped Death Arms' name. "He… ah, there's a rumour online that he's working for quirk traffickers. His debut was breaking up a trafficking ring, but afterwards some of the victims went missing while in his custody. T-they turned up dead. He claimed they ran away, but there was no real investigation. Then he started taking more trafficking cases, but key witnesses or informants always wind up dead or missing after he interviews them." The greenette let his rambling sink in, fussing with his hands anxiously.

The slight sneer Tomura had adopted faded the slightest bit. He seemed to mull the information over. "If you're staying with us, you can't always target just the 'bad guys'... But I suppose we can work with baby steps. Any dead hero works for me. Sensei just might notice the pattern."

The warning was clear. Izuku was just relieved that Tomura was understanding about it. He was right though, Sensei probably wouldn't be as tolerant of morals. Something of his thoughts must have shown on his face, because the man reached over to ruffle his hair.

"Don't worry about it. For now just focus on what he asked for."

And so he did. Once Tomura settled in for his nightly gaming, Izuku hesitantly returned to the man's room to continue his research into Death Arms. Thankfully his fights tended to be public so there was no shortage of material. After scribbling down four pages of quirk observations, including weaknesses, he turned to interview footage. After years of bullying and abuse he'd gotten fairly good at reading personalities. It was difficult due to public personas but not impossible to notice some tics and sore topics.

By the time he started to nod off in the chair he had ten pages, front and back, of analyses on the one hero alone. There was more he could likely dig up, but for initial observations it was impressive compared to his efforts when he was younger. But for now, the book and pen slid from his fingers and onto the floor as exhaustion claimed him.