They looked up at him, eyes dead and narrowed. One, so much smaller than the other, had a hold on the other's wrist, tightening as he sensed danger. They're clothes were ragged and torn, covered in grim from too much time in the elements.
"What are your names, little ones?" the man asked, his suit pristine and his voice soothingly deep.
"Go away," the blue one spoke first, red eyes piercing.
"You're a fake, too," the green one finished, hooking their elbows instead of holding the blue one's wrist. As he shifted, his green eyes twinkled red, fractured like a gem.
"A fake, young one?"
He was surprised when that soft, round face the boy sported twisted.
"You'll only hurt us like they did," he spat.
"Because of what we can do," the older growled.
"There is nothing that would make me hate you. I can see it in your eyes. The heroes have failed you," the man guessed.
"And what makes you think you're any better?" the eldest snapped, an ired cat arching it's back. A hand went to the boy's throat, but the other pushed it away gently.
"Come," he said simply. "Come and I'll show you how useless these heroes are. How to use these gifts to better society. You may call me Sensei."
The boys, no older than four and seven, gave each other a knowing look that children should never posses.
"Alight," the green one complied.
"But at one wrong move," the other growled, catching a leaf floating by and letting the man watch as it crumbled into nothingness.
"You're well spoken for someone so young," Sensei complemented.
"I taught us," the green one puffed up, pride echoing in his tone. "No one else would."
"And that changes," the man promised, kneeling and patting thick, green curls, careful of the two sharp horns that rested there. "I'll be your teacher."
And so, the two boys, still suspicious of the man's help, followed him home. There was a mist man waiting when they arrived.
The green one's eyes sparked in curiosity, but he didn't wander from his brother in all but blood.
"Poison or teleportation, maybe?" he guessed, the mist man's lightning yellow eyes widening.
"A very good guess, little one," Sensei praised, watching the boy's eyes narrow, as if in question of the authenticity of his praise. "Teleportation."
"I am Kurogiri," the mist man introduced. "A pleasure."
The boys looked at each other, a bond as strong as lighting and just as quick passed between them and they seemed to come to a decision.
"I'm Izuku."
"I'm Tenko."
Sensei, who's eyes were gunmetal gray and older than time and who's smile was practiced but real, nodded to both of them.
"I'm happy you trust us with them," he hummed. "Kurogiri, if you could help clean them up? I'll go and get them something to wear."
"Something loose," Izuku called, eyes shifting between two colors like gems.
His brother hummed. That would be nice. Something comfortable against his stubbornly pale skin.
"I'll keep it in mind," Sensei chuckled, patting both their heads and heading back to the door.
"So, children," Kurogiri started once the door clicked, "bath time, then?"
"Please," they both pleaded, unhooking their arms so Izuku could capture Tenko's wrist.
"This way." He led them down into the backrooms, letting them look around as much as they could.
Izuku's eyes flicked around, but Tenko's were firmly on Kurogiri's back. His hypothesis was that Tenko was the one with the offensive quirk, making him the defender.
"Here we are," Kurogiri announced, opening the door to a rather large room. The tub could hold at least four people, the showerhead shiny above it. The sink was to the right a few feet away, toilet not far away. There were a few cabinets, a mirror over the sink.
"I'll show you how to work the spout and you should be set for anything else. Towels are in this cabinet," Kurogiri explained, tapping the cabinet closest to the bath. It made noise, and Izuku's eyes narrowed.
"You can solidify your body? Or is there a body under there?"
"Solidify," he answered promptly. "This is cold, this is hot. Press this in to make the shower come on. Which one of you want to go first?"
"We can't take one together?" Tenko asked, but it was Izuku who answered.
"People think that's weird," he explained. When Tenko shrugged, Izuku sighed. "If it makes you feel better, Ko, I will stay in here with you."
The boy nodded, making Izuku smile softly. He turned back to the adult in the room. "Thank you, Kurogiri. We've got it."
The mist man tilted his head before stepping out, letting the boys clean up. As he made his way to the bar, he thought about the two boys now in his care.
Sensei would undoubtedly make him raise them, as he was a busy man. He couldn't make himself dislike the idea. Izuku was smart, sharp. Tenko was a bit childish, but with Izuku's guidance, he was sure to be something great. He could see the potential his master saw in both boys, more so in the horned boy.
He wondered briefly what his Quirk was. It could be just his horns, but that didn't make any sense.
"You seem to be deep in thought, friend."
A shiver ran down his spine at his master's voice. The man's sharp features were no match for the intelligence in his steel eyes.
There was now two plastic bags sitting at one of the bar's tables. One clothes and the other some kind of take-out.
"You found them, didn't you?"
"Lost sheep, abandoned. For their Quirks, I would think."
"Izuku's is only horns from what I've seen. I doubt that would warrant abandonment."
"They may have believed he was possessed by demons. Humans are fickle and cruel, Kurogiri. Young Tenko can turn all he touches into ash."
Kurogiri paused, wiping another glass from behind the bar counter, before speaking. "That's why Izuku grabs him by the wrist and not his hand."
"Indeed. I feel something much more from Izuku. Something powerful. With that sharp intellect, he will make a good Queen."
"And Tenko?"
"I'll fashion him into a King. Just you wait."
"Why not Izuku?" Kurogiri asked, a fear settling in his belly. He didn't question this man often, but he seemed in a good mood.
"He is smart and strong, but he has been guilding Tenko from day one, pushing him. I seen it when they met. Did you know that Tenko has a tick of scratching his neck? Izuku simply pushed it gently away.
"They're bond is strong, and they'll help each other grow, but Izuku is more interested in building his brother up than himself. Why not use that?"
Kurogiri nodded, setting down his clean glass before stepping out from behind the bar to grab the bag of new clothes.
"Do you plan on letting me raise them?"
"I'll try my best to be around," Sensei promised, "but while I'm away, I trust no other to do so."
"Thank you, Sensei."
The man hummed, watching with a keen eye as Kurogiri took the clothes out of the bag and took off the tags, separating them into two piles before looking at Sensei for confirmation. He received it and made his way to the bathroom.
Izuku was sitting on the floor, a small smile on his face as he talked to Tenko.
"-one time that we were taken into a church and my Quirk activated? They threw a Bible at me, Tenko. A Bible."
"I remember," Tenko giggled.
Izuku looked back at Kurogiri, face now blank but his voice still cheery.
"Didn't they throw a cross at you?"
"Yep.Then we sold it so we could buy a slushie."
As he spoke, Kurogiri placed a set of clothes near the shower and the other on the other end and pointed at the pile before pointing at Izuku, who nodded and watched the man leave.
"Who was that?"
"Kurogiri. He had our new clothes."
0oo00oo0
After both boys had showered and eaten, they hung around the bar, bored.
Izuku was watching Kurogiri in fascination, simply eyeing him. Tenko was swinging his legs back and forth, sipping some orange juice.
Izuku's head snapped up, cocking to the side.
"Izu?"
His brother shushed him before a low growl left his throat.
Kurogiri blinked at the practiced way Tenko bore his throat to the other boy. Izuku scraped his sharp teeth against his skin, just enough to draw blood to lap up before he bolted out the door with a bang.
The computer screen lit up with the image of Sensei, his long, black hair pulled back into his usual low ponytail but his suit jacket and tie missing.
"What happened?"
"I'm uncertain. I'll find out."
Tenko followed Kurogiri toward the source of the growling, surprised at the scene before him.
There was a man laying on the ground, lifeblood spilling from the stump of his neck. He had no visible quirk, but it didn't matter now. There was a blood splatter on the wall as if someone flung the blood off a blade to clean it.
Izuku was completely different.
Black, short-furred wings had three small talons at the crook, sprouting from the boy's back. The horns in his hair grew to curl like a rams, a second set sprouting from his forehead, barely and inch long. His eyes were closed as he purred, mouth nowhere to be seen on his smooth face. A tail and his wings were curled around a small body.
The boy in his grip looked shocked and was shivering in fright. A shock of purple hair seemed to defy gravity, black eyes resting on the decapitated body. His clothes were too big on him and looked worn, but otherwise taken care of. He was pale, the dark bags under his eyes all the more visible.
Izuku's eyes snapped open, irises so pale you almost couldn't make them out against his sclera. A deep rumble left Izuku's chest when he spotted them, making Kurogiri's bones rattle with something like fear.
Fear of a four year old boy.
"It's okay, Izu," Tenko cooed, coming closer. "We won't hurt him. What's your name, purple?"
"S-Shinso," he squeaked, sucking in air and shakily releasing it before continuing. "Shinso Hitoshi."
A purr echoed in the ally as Izuku nuzzled him under his chin, making the boy squeak again.
"What happened?" Kurogiri asked, keeping away from the protective demon.
The boy didn't answer, only widening his eyes and shaking uncontrollably. Izuku growled again in warning.
"You're scaring him," Tenko warned. "You don't have to answer. We'll try and get Izu to calm down first. Tell him you're okay. He like pets."
Hitoshi blinked before nodding. He shifted, raising an arm to pet the boy shielding him. He ran his fingers through green curls, getting a coo from Izuku as his eyes fluttered shut.
Hitoshi's breath hitched when the skin were Izuku's mouth should be crumbled away, revealing sharp fangs. He didn't move as the other boy nipped at his neck softly, careful of his sharp teeth.
"It's okay," Tenko told him, gaining the boy's gaze. "He is just nipping you. It's him showing affection. You're okay."
Hitoshi continued to pet the boy, watching in fascination as the wings withered into dust and his horns shrunk back into his head. The tail slinked back into his spine, disappearing. His skin healed until it left plump, petal pink lips in its place, a healthy tan from all his time outside.
He was still purring, if not as loudly. His eyes fluttered open, his green eyes breaking like a kaleidoscope into red.
"Hito," he cooed, nuzzling the boy again. His voice was raspy, husky in a way a four-year-old's should never be. "Don't worry. I won't let them bother you ever again. You can be with us! We would never bully you for your Quirk."
"What's your Quirk?" Tenko asked, tilting his head.
He seemed hesitant to answer, but spoke up softly. "I can control people who answer me."
Izuku's purr started up again, his chest puffing in something like pride. "A perfect Quirk! They are so mean, Hito! You're perfect."
"Who are all of you?" Hitoshi asked, fear sparking again.
"We're villains!" Izuku chuckled happily, making both Hitoshi and Kurogiri start. Izuku turned to him, unamused. "Did you think we were stupid, Mr. Kurogiri?"
Hitoshi pulled away, backing up a bit, and Izuku let him.
"I don't wanna be a villain. I want to be a hero! To prove them all wrong! Like Eraserhead!"
"But Hito," Izuku called softly, not reaching for him but standing up in his spot, "those heroes are not real. They're fakes. You want to be a part of that?"
Kurogiri watched on in fascination.
"What do you mean 'fake'?" Hitoshi whispered, scared.
"They only help for fame. For money and power. They don't care about people like you, me, and Tenko. You have lines on your face. They muzzled you."
Hitoshi flinched back, eyes watering but not falling.
"You want to be like them?" Izuku asked softly. He spread his arms out, inviting him in. "It wasn't heroes that saved you, Hitoshi. It was us."
Hitoshi hiccuped, tears spilling. He walked forward into the other boy's arms, letting him wrap him in security.
"Come on, Hito. Let's get you something to eat. You're too thin," Izuku hummed, leading him by his hand and grabbing Tenko's wrist.
"I'm Tenko and your boyfriend is Izuku," the blue-haired boy chuckled.
Hitoshi sputtered, but Kurogiri swore he saw Izuku's grin widen in satisfaction.
0oo00oo0
"What do you think, Kurogiri?" Sensei asked, the video of the incident playing again as the man studied it. It was long past the children's bedtime, so Kurogiri was alone in his master's chambers.
The camera had caught everything and Sensei stole the video, deleting the footage before others could see.
"He is manipulative and vicious," Kurogiri answered quietly, watching the small boy rip the man's head clean off, letting roll off deeper into the ally.
"I think it was more his Quirk that targeted young Shinso," Sensei hypothesized. "I think we found another weak point in his hidden beast."
"I believe he would turn on us in a second if we hurt either of them. Even by accident."
"Yes, he would," Sensei agreed, turning to look at his friend. "And that is why I picked Tenko. Izuku is a wildcard, but even the Queen follows the King's orders."
0oo00oo0
"So, Hito," Izuku grinned, drowning in the button-up shirt he had to borrow from Kurogiri. His wings shredded the other one. "What's it like to be brainwashed?"
"Wouldn't know," Hitoshi answer shyly. "I can't do it to myself."
"Do it to me!"
"What?"
"Do-"
Hitoshi panicked as Izuku's eyes unfocused, expression blank. What made him panic more was the odd feeling that came with it.
The tether wrapped around Izuku's mind seemed to have something wrapped around it, vibrating the connection. Like a cat was curled on it and was purring.
Or a demon.
Hitoshi poked Izuku's shoulder to snap him out of it. Instead of the fury was expecting, all he got were starry eyes.
"That's so cool! I could think and stuff but couldn't move my body! It was all fuzzy and stuff!" the boy exclaimed, a lovestruck expression falling on his face. "Marry me, Hito."
Hitoshi's face went cherry red, sputtering and choking on air. Izuku only sighed, dopy smile on his face.
"Ew," Tenko deadpanned from his place on a stool, orange juice glass held without his pinky.
"Ew, indeed," Kurogiri chuckled. "Izuku, stop teasing Shinso."
"Who said I was just teasing?" Izuku scowled. He turned back to Hitoshi, who was still trying to catch his breath. "Please?"
"We're too little!" Hitoshi sputtered out. "We're four!"
"Then we'll be engaged for as long as it takes!" Izuku exclaimed, nodding with himself.
"You two are disgusting," Tenko stated, sounding pained. Izuku stuck out his tongue, pulling Hitoshi to him.
"No he isn't! Look how cute he is!" Izuku argued. Tenko made something like a gaging noise.
"Sensei noticed you were bored yesterday," Kurogiri spoke up. "Have any of you played Uno?"
They all shook their heads as they eyed the new box of cards. They listened carefully to his explanation before starting a game between the three of them.
This went on for hours, Kurogiri mentioning a few other ways to play the game like Doubles and Stacks. Izuku was well versed in the game, planning his cards around the other two like he was stalking prey. He did let the other boys win, of course, drawing cards when he could have ended them.
At one point, playing a game of Doubles, Izuku looked at Tenko apologetically. Tenko's eyes narrowed in suspicion before widening.
"No, Izu-"
"I'm sorry."
"We're brothers!"
"Sorry."
"Mercy!"
Izuku played a double draw four, watching Tenko gurgle a dying sound of betrayal, Hitoshi looking in sympathy before his eyes lit up.
"I'll avenge you!" he declared, laying down two draw twos, but Izuku only gave him another look before laying two more down, emptying his hand.
"That makes sixteen, big brother."
Tenko didn't move from his spot on the floor.
"I fucking hate this game. I hate you, Izu."
"Language," Kurogiri scolded.
Izuku shrugged, pained expression ruined by the sadistic smile he was fighting down.
"Sorry?"
"No you're fucking not."
Kurogiri sighed.
"Uno ruins friendships," Hitoshi said sagely.
"And Monopoly ruins families," Kurogiri agreed.
"Monopoly?" Izuku perked up.
"No," they all said at once, making Izuku cackle.
"You're just scared," he goaded. Instead of arguing, the two boys only nodded in agreement.
Izuku only blinked at them before his eyes watered in crocodile tears. "Traitors."
"Wise men," Hitoshi corrected. Tenko snorted in agreement. Izuku went silent for a moment, small smile on his face as he thought of their future.
"One day," Izuku hummed, eyes far away and filled with a passion and hatred that the other two boys had never seen, "we'll help people. People like us. What we're doing is going to cause huge waves, one day." He looked to the eldest of the three of them, eyes sparking. "Are you ready to lead us to that, Tenko?"
"Wouldn't you be a better leader, Izuku?" Tenko shot back.
"No. I'm a strategist, not a leader. Let people fear me and what I am." His eyes paled and his fangs glinted in the bar's light. "Who's scarier? The demon? Or the one that has tamed it?"
0oo00oo0
Izuku, now seven, looked at Hitoshi, green eyes paling and hands sharpening into claws, black scales covering them in an impenetrable armor. He was so happy he had been wise enough to take off his shirt in his room as his wings burst from his back. As his demonic form took over him, the instinct to wrap Hitoshi up and never let him escape overcame him. He beat it back, focusing his sharp mind on all the holes in Hitoshi's stance.
"Your leaning back," his voice purred, the rumble he had in this form making the boy shiver. "Do not be afraid of the fight, Hito."
"I'm not," Hitoshi denied, fixing his posture.
"You are always afraid," Izuku sighed, eyes lidded in understanding. "When you fight," Izuku began, circling the boy on all fours, wings tucked in close to his body and tail swaying lazily, "you must not let fear rule you. You are scared to get hit. You are afraid we will get killed because you wont make it in time." Hitoshi flinched. "If someone throws a punch, don't get hit. If we're in trouble, save us. Don't get caught. That is how it is." His pale eyes softened, Hitoshi only able to tell from their long time together. "Believe in yourself, Hitoshi. You are strong. You tamed a beast like me, after all."
Hitoshi sent him a wobbly smile, eyes hardening in determination. Izuku's excited howl echoed through their arena, charging at Hitoshi, who dodged him like he was raging bull. Izuku's tail caught his ankle, tripping him.
Izuku backed off, letting him get up with a huff. Hitoshi took his stance once more, eyes narrowed in concentration. Izuku cooed at him in praise, coming at him much slower so Hitoshi could react. He swiped, watching Hitoshi sink to the ground to land a hit to his gut. He stumbled back a bit, and while it didn't hurt, his balance suffered. Hitoshi swiped at his legs, but Izuku jumped over the attempt, flapping his wings once to jump back.
Hitsohi hissed in annoyance, waiting for Izuku to come his way again, tense. Lean muscle wasn't as effective in this kind of brawl, and while Izuku was literally a noodle in both forms, he packed a nasty punch. In this form, lifting cars was like benching a feather.
Izuku's head tilted, body loosing out of his ready stance. He trotted up to Hitoshi, who ran a hand through his green curls.
"What do you hear?"
"Footsteps," he responded, stare on the door leading to the underground arena of sand. "Sensei is here. Should we go see him or continue sparring?"
"It's lunch time anyways," Hitoshi whined, getting a deep and husky chuckled from his partner.
"Is my mate tired?"
"No," Hitoshi denied quickly, red invading his cheeks. Izuku had taken to calling him that, especially when his Quirk was active. Izuku only chuckled, crouching lower to let Hitoshi climb on his back. Once his thighs gripped his ribs and his hands where on his shoulders, Izuku moved to stand slowly, as to not buck his rider, before making his way to the opening of the training ring.
They made their way to the empty bar, finding Tenko, now nine with his birthday coming up quickly, fiddling with another hand he had added to his collection. Hitoshi wrinkled his nose, bit Izuku only huffed.
"I don't see the appeal, big brother."
"You wouldn't understand," Tenko sighed, nose wrinkling as well. Thin lips, chapped in another life, were pressed into a line. "Do you know who this is?"
Izuku looked between his brother and the hand, letting HItoshi down to crawl closer. He sniffed it, brows visibly knitting despite the lack of hair. He sniffed the hand again before balancing himself on the end of Tenko's bench and nuzzling his brother's neck. His eyes widened.
"Your father."
"Ding."
Hitoshi thought he was going to be sick.
"Why?" Izuku breathed, voiced hushed as if afraid of the answer.
"It's all that's left of them," Tenko responded in an equally quiet voice. "It's all I have."
"Oh, Tenko," Izuku cooed, snuggling into Tenko's neck. "You have us, brother. We'll always be here."
"What happened to them?" Hitoshi asked, joining the two.
"I dusted them," Tenko answered. "My Quirk turned my father to dust. My mother, so sweet and nice and gentle, beat me before throwing me out of the house at age Five. A year later, I met Izuku, who was only three then. He didn't understand then, but he had been abandoned like I had," he turned to Izuku, red eyes soft, "so I took him in and we ran around for about a year before Sensei found us."
"Did we ever tell you about that time in the church?" At Hitoshi's denial, the two brothers went into tales of their shenanigans. Hitoshi listened raptly, snickering and asking questions as they went. Izuku switched to his more human form, grin splitting his face as he doodled in his sketchbook he had gotten from Sensei.
Before long, Kurogiri arrived with sandwiches, replying to their thank you's. Izuku narrowed his eyes at his plate before turning to Kurogiri.
"Hey, Kuro?" Kurogiri turned to look over his shoulder as he made his was behind the bar counter.
"Yes, Izuku?"
"What did Sensei need?"
Kurogiri continued to clean the glass he had put down, electric eyes narrowing in thought. "He wished to speak to you about Tenko."
"What about me?" said boy asked, leaning to peer around Izuku's body.
"Your name means something very important," Kurogiri explained, "so Sensei thought it wise to make another name. Same for you two, as well."
"Like our stage names," Izuku agreed, looking up from his sketchbook. "I want to be called Sutāresu. {Sa-rey-sue... or something close}"
"Starless?" Hitoshi translated. "That sounds so cool."
"What about you, Toshi?" Tenko asked, biting into his sandwich. No mustard and pickle slices.
"I was thinking something like Puppeteer, but hearing Zu's makes it seem lame. That and I think it would be cool if we all matched."
"Why not something related to the stage? Something flashy?" Izuku suggested. "Danchō means ring master."
"But it doesn't fit," Hitoshi whined, picking up his glass of milk.
"Hoshizora," Izuku offered. "Starlit night."
"I like," Hitoshi approved. They turned to Tenko, who seemed deep in thought.
"Tomura. Shigaraki Tomura."
"Why that?" Izuku quizzed.
"Sensei said that my name was special, right? Someone must know it. I need to change it. So from now on, I want you to call me that, okay?" Tenko asked, eager to please the man who took them in.
"Okay, Tomu," Izuku smiled gently, taking another bite of his lunch. A mostly-meat sandwich with a little bit of brown, spicy mustard.
"That doesn't leave me a nickname," Hitoshi wined, referencing their whole 'Hey, that's my nickname for him!' episode.
"Use his last name."
"Rude. That's cool with us, Mura."
"Oh? Thought you couldn't."
"Shut up, Zu."
0oo00oo0
Kurogiri's phone rang, and before even picking it up to answer, there was a portal in the middle of the bar. Izuku looked over, pale eyes narrowed a back arched like an ired cat. Tomura ran a gloved hand through the nine-year-old's hair, trying to sooth him. He had been anxious for a while, keeping his Quirk, which they had dubbed {Possession}, active.
Instead of the man that had saved them walking through the portal with all his charm and harsh presence, a mutilated body fell. If not for Izuku's quick thinking, he would have hit the floor.
"Master!" Kurogiri cried, but stopped at Izuku's annoyed growl.
"Get me someone. I don't care who. I can save him!" Kurogiri didn't argue, opening another portal to let a man stumble through, looking around blankly. Izuku pounced on him, sinking fangs into his throat and pulling with his core.
The other three males in the bar watched in horrid fascination as the man began to wither and mummify. After nothing but skin and bone was left, Izuku rushed to Sensei's side. He bit in between neck and shoulder, gently and carefully. His wings fluttered, his whole body tense. They watched as slowly, Sensei's face restored itself, his long, black hair returning and gunmetal eyes remaining closed.
"Is he okay?" Hitoshi asked, eyes drifting between the demon and the man. "He's going to make it, right, Zu?"
Izuku loosed his jaw, sliding his teeth from the man's flesh. He looked at Hitoshi, eyes lidded in exhaustion.
"He'll be fine. He's only unconscience."
The bar let out a breath of relief, Kurogiri moving to pick up Sensei. Izuku, Hitoshi, and Tomura watched him get carried away, something heavy in their guts.
What had happened to Sensei that a man that strong could come home in pieces?
0oo00oo0
The two pre-teens narrowed their eyes at the merchandise in the window, clearly deep in thought.
"Yes or no?"
"He doesn't have one, does he?"
"No, but he was talking about that one game he wanted. If we get this, we cant get him the game. But if we get the game, we might have enough to get him some of that weird candy he likes."
One of the boys gagged, the other nodding in agreement.
"I think we should get the game. If we by the console without games, that's kind of stupid."
"You're right."
And so, the two pre-teens, one purple and one green, made their way inside to locate the game their brother wanted so badly.
-0-
The next day, Tomura yawned, sitting up in bed after a few minutes of staring at the ceiling. He picked up his smartphone (a gift to all the boys after Sensei made a full recovery from that battle with All Might four years ago,) and checked the time. It was well past time for Kurogiri to wake him up. Blinking, he stretched till he heard a satisfying pop and headed downstairs.
Kurogiri wasn't behind the bar and his brothers were nowhere to be seen.
Strange.
The absence of his youngers made his hands twitch, his neck itching something fierce. He fought it, though. For Izuku.
"Izu? Toshi?" he called and the thumps of feet lightened his heart. The two boys skidded out from the 'Staff Only' door, bright smiles lighting the room.
"Tomu!"
"Mura!"
"Sup you two? What where you doing back there?" Tomura asked, brow arching.
The two teens gave each other a look, mischief sparking in their eyes.
"This way!" they both giggled, pulling him by his partially gloved hands. He let them lead him, indulging the younger boys.
He was lead to one of the doors that opened to their training room, the one they used for quirkiness combat. As they opened the door, Tomura blinked.
All the equipment had been pushed to the side, chairs and tables arranged in the middle with white cloth and food lining the tables. He noticed it was a lot of his favorites.
There was a small pile of presents sitting on a round table, Kurogiri standing beside them like a loyal guardsmen. Sensei sat in a plush chair, hid long, straight, black hair was pulled into a ponytail at his neck and gunmetal eyes were lit with something like affection. His sharp features were softened by his smile.
"What..." Tomura gasped, looking at everything.
"It's not every day a young man turns sweet sixteen. Happy birthday, Tomura," Sensei greeted.
"Happy birthday!" the teen boys cheered, running over to the table with food that was no doubt all prepared by Izuku and Kurogiri.
Tomura and Hitoshi weren't allowed in the kitchen after the, uh... incident.
Tomura gathered a plate for himself, containing more sweets than food, before joining his family at the table.
"Wait and see what we got you, big brother!" Izuku chirped, smile wide and mischievous glimmer ever present.
"Me and Zuku thought real hard on what to get you," Hitoshi chimed in, stuffing some rice in his mouth.
"I'm sure I'll love it," Tomura agreed, eating another bite of cake. It was butterscotch, his one of his favorite flavors.
"Oh!" Izuku exclaimed, bouncing in his chair. "Before we finish dinner!" He raced off to the girt table, picking up one near the edge. It was small and crinkled as Izuku's fingers shifted over it.
He handed the shiny blue present (with a green and purple bow. Gosh, what was he going to do with them) and stared at him expectantly.
He carefully tore the shiny paper, revealing a package of black liquorice.
"Thanks you two," Tomura hummed, opening the package and popping one of the twisted candy strips into his mouth, most of it just hanging out of his mouth.
Both boys wrinkled their noses playfully, pointing at him with an exaggerated 'Ewwwww!' They laughed, even Sensei and Kurogiri chuckling along.
After everyone was done eating, the two youngest let out of hearty cry of 'Presents!' The adults and older teen watched in amusement as they picked out a present each for him to open.
The first was a present from Sensei. A new pair of black half-gloves to replace his fraying ones. They fabric was soft and it was well made. He swapped gloves, opening and closing his fist to try them. He nodded in satisfaction and thanked Sensei.
The second was from Kurogiri. There was more lotion and skin care products ("You had said you were running out.") and glass that was crystalized to look like it was falling apart. He thanked him, being careful with the glass.
The boys were next, grinning like fools. They handed him a wrapped box and was told not to shake it rather sternly by Izuku. Curious, he ripped the paper and opened the box.
Inside were about two games to the hand-held game system and one was a disk. The two smaller ones were adventure games and disk was the one game he had asked for.
"You guys got me Dragon Age?" he asked, breathless.
They nodded. "We only had money for that one, but the guy said it was on sale so we had money to buy the other two. Buy one get one free and stuff," Hitoshi explained.
"I love it," Tomura breathed, putting the box on the table and opening his arms. The two boys crashed into him, a pile of giggling limbs.
"There's one more thing," Sensei cut in, a soft smile curling on his lips. He nodded to Kurogiri, who opened a portal right above Tomura's lap.
A small, short-haired kitten landed there, meowing in protest at being manhandled. It was a smoky gray, darker gray streaks running through its fur. His eyes crystal blue, and he doubted they'd dull as they aged.
"He's about seven weeks old," Sensei informed. "What will you name him?"
Izuku and Hitoshi glared at him, promising death if he picked something stupid. He thought about it for a moment before nodding to himself.
"Ash."
"Simple and efficient," Izuku agreed, making Tomura sigh in relief.
Hitoshi snorted. "Like your Quirk. Har har."
"Shush," Izuku hushed playfully. "At least it wasn't named after a game character."
"You're right."
"I'm right here," Tomura whined, letting the kitten climb up his arm to his shoulders.
"Are they wrong, young master?" Kurogiri chuckled.
A defeated whine passed Tomura's lips, making his small family laugh at him.
0oo00oo0
Izuku wrinkled his nose.
"Do it, do it, do it!"
He took the shot of bronze liquid and nearly puked it back up.
"YEAH. HOW'S IT FEEL?" Hitoshi shouted, smug grin on his face.
"That's so nasty," Izuku groaned, head laying on the cool bar. He looked like he was in pain.
"Well," Kurogiri chuckled, "at least it's good for you. Just a shot like that can clean out your whole system."
"Are you telling me Apple cider vinegar is good for you?" Izuku sputtered. "People drink it for they're health? I almost died."
Hitoshi stopped cackling long enough to answer before sputtering into laughter again. "That's why you don't lose bets with me."
"Any more than that would be bad to drink straight," Kurogiri warned. "I like putting it in herbal teas."
"Really? Can I try?" Izuku asked, eager. "It was just strong. Can I try it in tea?"
"Ew," Hitoshi deadpanned, finally over his laughing fit. "Hey, 'Giri? When will we be able to go out?"
Kurogiri thought this question over.
"I'm unsure. That would be a question for Sensei."
"You called?"
The man himself -that's not creepy- appeared on his screen, dressed in his suit.
"We were wondering, Sensei," Hitoshi started.
"When will we make our debut?" Izuku finished. "I think it wise to gain a name for ourselves before 'joining the League'. It'll give the League more rep for sure."
Sensei seemed to think this over, but both the boys knew it was an act. He already had a plan.
"Why not start now? I'll leave the plans up to you."
The boys grinned.
"Good luck. Make me proud."
0oo00oo0
Two teens walk into a drug ring.
"Ya buyin'?" an older man asked, a few teeth missing and the rest yellowed.
A wicked grin spread over the teen's face, his companion huffing in agreement. The demon sat on its haunches, purring a gloved hand ran through thick curls that were pulled back into a tail at his neck.
"Perhaps," the smooth voice of the teen echoed. "But perhaps I'm here for something else." Sharp, black eyes scanned the large warehouse from behind his white opera mask that covered the right side of his face. Men and women around them started to tense, readying for a brawl.
The demon's mouth cracked open to reveal sharp fangs, a low growl cut off with the rough tug to his hair.
"Now, now, Sutāresu. We want to be nice," the purple-haired teen chuckled from behind his white glove. His violet button up was loose around his neck and tucked into his slacks, a white tie swaying from his collar. Heavy boots made no sound when he moved. He was like a ghost. He was rather tall for how young he looked, despite the heavy eye-bags viable under his left eye.
His companion had a black, leather dog collar around his neck, two links of chain hanging down as if it had snapped it from his post. A loincloth hung from its thin hips, though there was nothing to cover in this form. Deep violet edges encased the golden kanji for 'starless', apparently the beast's name.
"I have a proposition, gentlemen, ladies," the teen spoke again. "Join me in a greater cause, and I'll leave your little ring alone."
"If we say no?" a woman snarked, flinching when Sutāresu moved in a tight circle around its master to growl at her.
"I don't know. Don't you think Sutāresu looks a little hungry? I didn't feed him before we came. We were in such a rush," he grinned, shifting the long, black coat on his shoulders.
"Is that a threat, brat?" another thug growled, only to be met with one of Sutāresu's.
"A promise," he said darkly. "My name is Hoshizora and I would greatly appreciate some more helping hands. Any of you interested?"
"What do we get out of it?" a woman questioned, voice light and airy.
"Protection," he looked around, "a better place to stay, and some more allies." His small smile turning into a lazy smirk. "A little cash thrown in for a job well done."
"Aren't you a little young?"
A gloved hand splayed over his chest in exaggerated offense.
"Young?" Hoshizora looked toward his pet demon, who nudged his leg gently with his shoulder. The demon on all fours was as tall as his hip, and standing he had to be at least six foot. "Taming a demon young. I'll take it as a complement."
Said demon huffed then snapped at someone who had come too close for his liking.
Hoshizora chuckled. "He bites." A chain of iron hooked to the two links of Sutāresu's collar, and with a soft tug, the demon sat at his feet.
Hoshizora chuckled, glancing around him.
"So? What'll it be?"
0oo00oo0
Aizawa Shouta was a sleepless, irritated mess. He rubbed his temples to try and cut off the oncoming headache, black eyes squeezing shut.
"They started a damn mafia."
His husband chocked on the coffee he was sipping, green eyes popping open.
"The Starlight Twins?"
He only got a groan in response. Yamada Hizashi sighed. "How old are they again?"
"Sixteen-ish." Shouta signed. "I wonder what happened to them. We don't even know if the other one has any human left."
"Sutāresu? I think so. I've only met them once, but he cares a little too much about Hoshizora for him not to." Shouta grunted.
"Transformation or mutation?"
"Jury is still out on that one. If I had to guess at motive, though..."
"Quirk discrimination," Shouta agreed, rubbing his face and running a pale hand through his long, black hair. "I've been under Hoshizora's once. It was weird. He called it {Commandment}."
His husband hummed, throwing long, blond strands behind his shoulder and taking a sip of coffee.
"I just hope we can help them."
0oo00oo0
"How does the Quirk feel?"
"Really good," Hitoshi confirmed, taking off his mask and collapsing into a booth with a pleased nod. "It bended really well."
"{Collar and Command} seemed like a good fit for you. I'm happy there's no problems."
A low purr echoed in Izuku's throat. He looked up at Hitoshi from where he was laying by Hitoshi's feet.
"A stellar performance. We've definitely made a name for ourselves."
"He's right," Sensei agreed, fiddling with what sounded like papers off screen. "The Starlight Twins. Has a nice ring."
"It does," Kurogiri agreed.
"I've noticed, Izuku," Sensei spoke up once more, coming into frame, "you've spent a lot of time in that form."
"It's comfy," Izuku explained. "Doesn't feel like I'm in a skintight costume."
"I can make it permanent."
Izuku seemed to ponder it for a moment, before shaking his head.
"While I like this form, Sensei, my human one allows me freedom."
"I understand," Sensei nodded, seemingly pleased with his choice. Hitoshi smiled softly at his partner, running a hand through his curly locks.
"You know, Izuku, you're hair has gotten really long," Hitoshi pointed out, smirk replacing his smile. "I think you'd look good with an undercut."
Kurogiri hummed. "That he would, now that he's lost most of his baby fat."
He was right. His jawline was sharp but his cheeks were full, cheekbones high.
"Do you think piercings would stay in my demon form?" Izuku half-joked. "Maybe on my lip and ear? I like hoops."
"I think one in the middle for your lip. Just a ball or something," Hitoshi offered up.
"What?" Tomura asked, joining them.
"You'd have to be careful with them," Sensei warned. "Piercings are very identifiable."
"Oh," Tomura stated smartly. "Toshi would look good with a nose ring. Like a bull one?"
Hitoshi rolled the idea around, nodding.
"Hot as hell."
"That better have been intended."
"Always."
Tomura gagged.
"You're eighteen, man up."
"Says fucking you."
"That's my job."
Everyone just stared at the preening Izuku.
"T.M.I. What the fuck?" Tomura asked, a little dazed.
Izuku only shrugged.
0oo00oo0
Soon, the eighth of of July came around. The eighth was smack dab ("Izuku, no." "The meme won't die.") in the middle of their birthdays. They agreed to just use that date for them both.
"Are you sure?" Kurogiri asked again, holding the piecing gun up for them to see, giving them an out.
"Yep," Hitoshi answered lazily, Izuku nodding beside him.
After a few yelps and flinches, Izuku had a gold hoop through his right ear, a silver ball in the middle of his lower lip and another one through his tongue.
Hitoshi had a steel horseshoe with metal balls at the ends through his nose, and a small steel bar in his right eyebrow to hide behind his mask.
Izuku's was already healed an hour later, much to Hitoshi's annoyance.
Ash rubbed against his stomach from his place on Hitoshi's lap to comfort him, which Izuku found amusing.
Izuku was gifted new headphones, a sketchpad (his was full), and two small, wooden hand mannequins.
Hitoshi also got a pair of headphones (this one with small cat ears), a set of rings, and a necklace with the Wiccan Trinity charm.
Izuku handed him another him another jewelry box, this one containing a silver pocket watch. The front had 'Forever Mine' carved into the front, and once clicked open, Hitoshi's breath hitched.
It was a taken down the bar counter. Tomura had his chin on the bar counter, perched on a stool and facing forward. Sensei was smiling softly with a glass of scotch in his hand, iced. Izuku was behind the bar, frozen mid-refilling Sensei's drink. Kurogiri was beside him, cleaning another glass. From the angle, Izuku and Tomura were in front, the older men behind them. Glass sheltered the picture, sealing it in. Gray was swirled into the glass, making a frame.
The other face was of course the clock, but a comedy and tragedy masks were behind the hands, a ribbon flowing between the with his stage name written in lilac on the flat of it.
"Happy birthday, mate," Izuku cooed, thumbs hanging from the belt loops of the other's jeans and nose nuzzling Hitoshi's jaw.
"It's beautiful," Hitoshi awed. "Baby, it's gorgeous."
"Was that a yes?" Izuku asked, eyes bright.
"Yes. Oh, my god."
Izuku purred happily, nuzzling his official (cuz they always sort-of kind-of were) boyfriend again.
A gag broke the peace, gaining laughter as Tomura mimed puking.
"I'm happy for you," Sensei smiled, pride bubbling in his chest.
"Thanks, Pops," Izuku teased.
"It's official. He's Dad for One."
Sensei choked. "What?"
"You're Dad now," Tomura snickered.
"And Mamagiri," Hitoshi added, grinning evilly as the mist man froze.
The teens cackled at their parental figures. Kurogiri finally sputtered to life, mist turning a beautiful shad of magenta in his galaxy of black, purple, and deep blues.
Even All for One joined in the laughter.
-0-
"You know," Izuku purred in their shared room that night, "I finally get you all to myself." He stretched, abs in full view, muscles flexing.
"Oh?" Hitoshi asked, eyebrow arching. He crossed his arms over his torso to pull his shirt up with his arms, exposing a muscled back. Hitoshi leaned back when toned, tanned skin circled his waist and cool breath brushed his neck.
"My mate. All mine," Izuku purred, nipping the taller's neck. Izuku would be taller than him one day, they both knew it. He'd shoot up that inch he was missing and then some.
"Bold of you to assume you weren't already mine," Hitoshi smirked, a lazy thing as he turned to face his lover.
The black collar he always wore was hooked a chain quickly, Izuku's brain rewiring itself to make Hitoshi his god, his everything.
A rumble left Izuku's chest, eyes paling but not transforming. Black scales wrapped around his throat, but left the middle open.
"My beautiful baby," Hitoshi cooed, petting the other teen. He dragged him to the bed by his new leash and made him kneel at his feet. "You're so precious, thinking that you're on top."
The silky smooth voice of his demonic side purred from Izuku's throat. "I'm so fucking you. Damn you're hot."
Hitoshi only chuckled, a dark, promise-filled sound that gave Izuku chills. He nuzzled Hitoshi's thigh through his jeans, and when he was not reprimanded, continued.
Thumbs went into his belt loops and a cool mouth met his.
Izuku was always chilly to the touch. Even his tongue was cool when it swiped the seam of his lips. Izuku let out a noise of appreciation as Hitoshi dominated his mouth, rolling his tongue against that silver ball in his. When he pulled away, it was with his lower lip between his teeth.
The hand not holding his chain was soon full of curls, yanking his head back for Hitoshi to bite at the soft scales on his neck. Cold, black flame lit his throat up, a moan flaring instead of flames.
A harsh bite had Izuku gasping, breath hitching and nails digging into Hitoshi's hips. The pale hand moved from the back of his head to his shoulder, digging his own nails in to push him down.
"You know, baby," Hitoshi cooed, tilting Izuku's head up, lips ghosting over plump pink ones, "you would look so pretty with those lips around my dick."
He got a moan of agreement, his long tongue passing his lips, extended with his half-demonic state.
Hitoshi ran a finger down its middle, smile lazy. He leaned back, bracing himself on his hands. A sharp tug gave Izuku permission.
"No hands."
A rumble answered him. Hitoshi popped the button, watched Izuku pull down his zipper with lidded eyes. With a look, Hitoshi answered with raising his hips. He didn't scold him for his use of hands when both his jeans and boxers hit the floor, kicked away.
Izuku's forearms caged Hitoshi's thighs, hands fisted to keep him from using them. That long tongue was quick to wrap around the head of his cock, making Hitoshi sigh blissfully.
Hitoshi choked when the cool cavern wrapped around his dick fully, hitting base on the first go. He bucked up and Izuku let him, humming out a moan. That wicked, pierced tongue run up the underside vain as he came up, long canines brushing the sides.
"Fuck," Hitoshi cursed, tightening his fingers in curly green strands again to force him back down. He went easily, teeth scraping lightly and a quick breath taken through his nose.
"You take my cock so easily," Hitoshi praised, earning him another noise of pleasure. "So pretty and obedient. Beauti-ah-beautiful with my cock in your mouth." Hitoshi tugged him up and off, smashing their lips gracelessly.
Izuku made a breathless noise, something feral and pleading.
Hitoshi pulled him up, keeping their tongues dancing, lips locked and chain long forgotten to disintegrate, onto his lap. Hitoshi's thumbs found his waistband, pushing his black shorts and briefs down and away. When his hands found his lover's hips again, Izuku bucked him, sliding their erections together.
Hitoshi snapped at his neck again, biting harder when tanned fingers curled into his indigo locks.
"Please, mate," Izuku breathed, a wistful plea.
Hitoshi let out a soft sound, letting go of the other's neck to claim his mouth in a slow dance. A soft press of lips to say 'I love you'.
"Ya want to do it, then? Spread me open?"
"Just for me," the beast growled, throat flaring in barely contained fire and pale eyes narrowing in a leer. "Only me. Mine."
"Yes, baby," Hitoshi moaned out, bucking his hips. Izuku motioned for him to lay down, getting off his lap to dig in a drawer. Once Hitoshi settled, Izuku was between his legs, nipping and licking up his thighs.
The pop of a cap only spurred them on, Izuku teasing, pushing and pulling at sensitive skin and hard muscle.
Hitoshi tensed when a finger brushed his entrance, moaning out as his lover's tongue found his dick again. He tried to relax, focus on the tongue and not the odd sensation of fingers spreading him open.
"That's fine, baby. Come here," Hitoshi huffed, out of breath. Izuku let up, lubing his own cock as he pressed a gentle kiss to Hitoshi's lips. The man beneath him tensed as he was breached again, Izuku distracting him with soft kisses over his face and nips to his throat.
Izuku hissed at the sensation, slipping further in till there was nothing left, breath coming out in pants and moans. "Please, mate. Please."
A thin hand wrapped around the back of his neck, pulling him down so Hitoshi's lips ghosted his ear.
"Fuck me."
That's all he need.
Hitoshi cried out as Izuku set a rough pace, the need creaking with his force. His neck was littered with bites and hickeys as Izuku attacked his neck, lips swollen with aggressive kisses.
They didn't last long, Hitoshi's nails racking Izuku's back with a call of his name. A low growl left Izuku's throat in answer, thrust once, twice, before he stilled.
Hitoshi pet him, brushing his bangs away and cooing softly. "Such a good boy, baby. You made me feel so good."
Izuku purred, pulling out and falling to the side, scooping Hitoshi into his arms and cuddling him.
0oo00oo0
Hoshizora narrowed his eyes from his perch, petting the slowly tensing Sutāresu.
"What brings ya here, stranger?"
The man shifted, looking around at the thugs slowly closing in. Hoshizora casually leaned on his fist, elbow on his knee.
"I-I came because I know you have connections."
A slim, purple brow rose, inquiry met with more fidgeting from the man before him.
"Oh? With whom? What do you want to have done?" He stood, all elegance and grace, knee high boots clicking. He made a loose circle around the short, stubbly man, Sutāresu circling the opposite way.
"Aren't you looking for scientists in genetics?" The question was asked hesitantly, nerves making him shake.
"Hm," answered the showman. The beast at his call curled close to the good doctor, a low rumble leaving his throat. "What do you think boys? Looks a little timid to me."
The men laughed in agreement, the doctor going pale.
"I was sent here!"
That was the wrong thing to say, apparently. With a snap of his fingers, the fangs of the beast's maw was on his throat, small trickles of blood making its was down his thick neck and to the floor.
Sutāresu pinned him with both talons and stare, silent as the grave.
The thugs around them howled, calling for more blood. When Hoshizora held up his hand, they quieted.
"Who?"
"I-I-" He gulped, teeth sinking a little deeper. "Overhaul."
Hoshizora blinked. It was silent for a moment, nothing but breathing.
Then Hoshizora cackled.
"That old bird," he chuckled, calling Sutāresu to sit at his feet. A grin split his face, a manic kind of thirty lighting his dark eyes.
"This'll be fun. Sutāresu, heel."
-0-
And that's how they ended up like this.
Sutāresu was tied in the strong mesh of Eraserhead's scarf, flailing and roaring as the man tried to keep his eye on both the beast and his partner. Midnight, another hero they had run into, had already flooded the place with a light mist, making Hoshizora feel almost numb. He had a few scrapes, breath shallow. Panicked, black orbs landed on Sutāresu.
"Run, Master! RUN!" he cried, surprising the heroes. Hitoshi looked at Izuku for one more second, a thousand promises and truthful confessions passing between them.
Hoshizora turned and ran, one last cry over his shoulder.
"Don't speak!"
0oo00oo0
Aizawa watched the beast pace.
Back and forth.
Numbingly.
"Why don't you settle down, Sutāresu? You're not going anywhere."
Shouta Aizawa could have sworn he'd seen the beast roll his eyes.
Little bastard.
"How old are you? I know you can speak."
It shook its head and then tilted it back, pointing at the familiar leather collar around his neck. The claw went to where his mouth would be, motioning for silence.
Eraserhead understood, nodding.
"Are you there willingly?" he asked, watched the huge beast tense.
Izuku thought of his answer and what Sensei had done for them.
-0-
'I've connected the five of us with a newly acquired quirk,' Sensei explained.
Izuku, who was watching the heroes converse quietly at the large viewing window, tried not to jump for joy.
'Hito, Tomu, and Giri, too?'
'All here,' came Tomura's response.
'Have they hurt you? Are you okay?' Hitoshi's panicked thoughts asked.
'Fine. When Eraser tried to use his quirk I flailed around some. They think they hurt me.'
'And to heroes,' Sensei chuckled, 'what an awful thing to do to someone who may be unwillingly helping villains.'
'What do mean, Sensei?' Tomura questioned, a little betrayal on the fringe of his words.
Eraser turned to look at Izuku, who only stared eerily back.
'Izuku?'
'You want me to fool the heroes into thinking I'm innocent.'
'No!' Hitoshi panicked. 'We need to get him back!'
'Hito, love,' Izuku soothed. 'We could win a lot of favor here. I'll be here anytime you need me.'
'I...'
'I love you all, don't forget that.'
'Good luck,' Kurogiri spoke up, deep voice soothing.
-0-
He crawled over the window, sitting on his haunches. He put a clawed hand up to the glass, head tilted and eyes pleading for understanding.
Eraser looked on for a moment before putting his hand over Sutāresu's.
"Is it talking?"
Sutāresu jumped, scuttling back into his cell.
"No, but I did get some information," Eraser grunted, irritation narrowing his dark gaze as he pulled his hand from the glass.
Midnight, in all her Dom glory, winced. "What?"
"I don't think it's a willing villain, for one." Midnight looked at the beast in its cage, eyes narrowed in suspicion. "And it can't speak with that command Hoshizora gave him." Sutāresu flinched at the name, which, as much as it pained him, was necessary.
Eraser tried to usher him forward, putting his hand back up to the glass. Izuku looked between the two heroes, gaze sharp. Slowly, he crept along the wall, away from Midnight, to get close to the window.
Midnight backed away, letting him peek out and stare. A tap at the window alerted him to the impatient Eraser.
He put his larger claw over the smaller human's hand.
"It's intelligent, then?"
A low growl was her answer. Eraser huffed, "I don't know, is it?" Eraser was the next one to get growled at. It took him a moment to figure out why. "He?"
Sutāresu sat back, hand still on the glass, smug.
"You got a name besides Sutāresu?" The beast stilled, looking down in thought, before shaking his head.
"I'm Aizawa."
Sutāresu tilted his head before inching closer to the glass. A low purr echoed through his small, cement cell.
"If I let you out, will you run?" Eraser quizzed, watching the sudden vigor the demon vibrated with. He went over the solid metal door, sitting there like an obedient puppy.
Aizawa didn't know whether to be amused or address the burning anger in his stomach.
He opened the door with his hero pass, only to get pounced on. Midnight cried out his name, spooked, but Eraser didn't move.
"You're heavy."
Sutāresu huffed, getting off the hero and helping him up with a claw. Aizawa was taller when he was all fours, but Sutāresu was about seven foot when he stood up.
"How old are you?" Aizawa asked as they made their way out of the cells to the front of the police station. Sutāresu stopped and held up all ten fingers before dropping four. "Sixteen?" He nodded.
He brushed his shoulder against Aizawa's side, minding to be on the opposite side of Midnight. Eraser wouldn't hurt him, but Midnight could still put him to sleep.
Aizawa mindlessly petted him, getting a purr for his efforts. Meanwhile...
'Hito! I got Aizawa to pet me!'
His mate mentally cackled, rolling along the floor. 'Probably because he only has cats for company.'
"Awe, look, Eraser! He purrs!" Midnight cooed.
"I wouldn't, if I were you," Aizawa warned. "I don't think he likes you much."
"I don't get why. I've never done anything to him. If anything, he shouldn't like you, with all the chasing you've done!"
"He enjoyed it. He can deny being a villain, but he liked the chase."
Sutāresu looked almost sheepish, shrugging his shoulders.
Aizawa opened a door, letting him into the back of the station, the break room for many of the officers. Some of the men and women in blue only gawked while a certain detective only sighed.
Detective Naomasa Tsukauchi was a plain looking man with short, dark hair, dark eyes and a tan trench coat that made him your stereotypical detective. Sutāresu looked around the room, tense by Aizawa's side.
"Why is he out here?"
"He was getting antsy," was Aizawa's explanation. Even Sutāresu gave him a blank look. "He's sixteen, doesn't know or have a name other than Sutāresu, and seems to be an unwilling participant in his actions."
"And you know this... How? He could be lying."
Because, Izuku thought, my acting is top notch. Thank you, Sensei, for the lessons.
"I know a victim when I see one," Aizawa grunted, petting Sutāresu again. He loosened up, leaning into the touch.
"You said he could speak?"
"Not anymore. Hoshizora used his quirk to silence him." Aizawa tapped Sutāresu's chin, making him tilt his head up to show the black collar.
The detective hummed. "Can he transform?"
"Don't know, but I don't think so," Midnight answered. "Eraser tried erasing his quirk and he thrashed around and screamed."
Aizawa looked at the teen at his feet, raising a brow. Sutāresu stood, towering over everyone before he started to shrink. His wings flaked and rotted, his tail curling until it disappeared. He stood now about 5'7", legs straight but still clawed and furred (mostly because that cloth on his hips covered nothing). His face was still blank, a metal ball marking where his lips would be.
Aizawa thought he could see a bit of green pop out of those dead, white irises.
"I noticed you pierced your lip. Got any more?" Midnight asked, eyes lidded and sultry.
Bitch, I got so much better at home.
His mouth cracked open, tongue lolling out to show another metal ball.
"And a gold hoop in his ear," Aizawa pointed out, cutting off a yawn. Sutāresu preened as Midnight complemented him, Aizawa watching them closely.
"I don't think he's telling the truth, Eraser. Because he can't speak, I can't use my quirk to confirm," Tsukauchi warned, keeping his voice low.
"I don't know," Eraser huffed, narrowing his eyes at the boy. He was dodging Midnight's attempts to glop him. "He gives me mixed signals. He flinches when you touch him but immediately leans into it afterwards. I've been the one chasing him but it's Midnight he's scared of."
"Have you considered that he thinks you won't hurt him? Midnight can put him to sleep without hurting him so it's still on the table." Aizawa grunted.
Sutāresu ran behind him, using him as a shield. Aizawa rolled his eyes, petting the mop if green-highlighted black.
"Leave him alone, Midnight."
"But he has freckles!"
Aizawa looked, amd sure enough, across the bridge of his nose were spots so pale they almost blended with his skin. Sutāresu tilted his head, as if he didn't know what she was talking about, eyes narrowing.