-Information file A-
Alias: Giran
Age: 40+
Ethnicity: Half-Japanese, Half-British
Quirk: Intimidate
Type: Transformative emitter
Source: Face. Eyes.
Details: Once used, intimidates the target. The wider the eyes the bigger the effect. Cannot be turned off other than closing eyes, glasses can help but sunglasses have the best effect.
Weaknesses: Cannot work on blind. Target has to see subject. Doesn't determine target's reaction.
Drawbacks: None.
-
-Information file B-
Alias: Ya'rok
Age: 12
Ethnicity: Japanese
Quirk: N/A
Type: N/A
Source: N/A
Details: Quirkless.
Weaknesses: N/A
Drawbacks: N/A

CHAPTER 2: The Chapter Where Izuku Hates Everything

Izuku hated Giran.

No matter how much the man trained him or fed him katsudon after a good meeting, he hated that wretched man.

He took him away from mom. He took away his identity.

"Ya'rok!" The by now familiar gritty voice echoed through the apartment. "Get your analysis stuff ready!"

That meant a new recruit scouting.

Izuku gritted his teeth and slipped off of his bed, stretching his sore limbs. He reached for the black messenger bag he always kept between his bed and desk. He opened it and checked for the usual items.

Notebooks? Check.

Pens and markers? Check.

A switchblade? Check.

A taser? Check.

His emergency phone, charger, and wallet? Check and inside a concealed pocket.

A few more items were kept inside the bag as well, but they weren't as important so Izuku skimmed over them lazily. Once satisfied, he flipped the cover over and set it on the bed.

Izuku quickly put on his dark green suit and polished shoes, grimacing at the offending outfit.

He hated these types of clothing the most.

He tugged at his tie, wrinkling his nose at the crooked tie, and just gave up on it, knowing Giran would take care of it anyways. Instead, he slung the bag strap over his shoulder and exited his bedroom, stepping into the lit living room; the darkness outside the windows hinting at the late hour.

The best meetings were held at under the veil of night after all.

An annoyed huff was heard. "Eight minutes is still too long, brat. You would think that you would have gotten better after several years."

Giran twisted in his seat to peer at the grimacing preteen, smoke pooling around his mouth and body, the cigarette loosely held between his chapped lips. Blank, murky, red eyes narrowed at the tie without even glancing at the rest of his outfit, knowing by now that there was no need to check.

God how Izuku hated him. "You usually call me ten minutes before we leave, I was quick enough."

"Don't be a smartass, greenboy." The bite of the scolding was lessened by the lazy smirk directed his way by the gray haired man.

The man huffed as he pushed himself to his feet, strolling confidently towards the preteen.

Izuku held his breath as the man loomed closer, nose wrinkling in disgust as Giran blew a plume of cigarette smoke into his face as big experienced fingers untied and re-tied the piece of fabric properly. The bud in his mouth was too close for comfort and Izuku knew Giran did it to keep him on guard.

"I can't always be there to fix your problems for you," Giran tugged at the necktie a bit forcefully, causing Izuku to choke and push the man away to loosen the tie, sending a heated glare to the cackling man.

"I don't want you to, bastard. Just let me go home if I'm such a hassle," Izuku grumbled and tucked the tie into the suit jacket; he twitched at the acid yellow color burning his sight.

"A deal is a deal, brat," Giran gave his usual reply, crushing the remains of his smoke into the ashtray. "Besides, you're too valuable to let the aboveground have you."

And that's what basically boiled down to why Izuku was still alive.

In the four years he had lived under the alias of Ya'rok, Giran had learned about his aptitude to analyze anything and everything; especially quirks. He had also learned about Izuku's love for heroes and used that interest to find out more on their strengths and weaknesses.

At the beginning, Izuku kept quiet no matter what Giran had tried. This had given Izuku a sense of victory, feeling that eventually Giran would give up on getting anything from him.

But one night he was introduced to a man called Bringer. The man was one of Giran's old contacts; an old man with a stoic expression and an unfair Quirk.

A quirk called Truth.

That was enough to tip Izuku off that this meeting was going to end horribly.

And it did.

Two fingers touching his temples had caused him to claw at his throat and bite through his lips as everything he knew was spilled out like the tears that cascaded down his face.

After that horrible session, Izuku had locked himself in his room. Once safe behind the locked door, he cried and screamed. He had snapped at the door when Giran tried to open it and this went on for two days before he came down with a fever. The scratches he had inflicted on himself had gotten infected and dehydration had finally consumed him.

Giran had finally forced his way inside when no screaming or crying could be heard, finding Izuku in a delirious state as the fever peaked. He faintly remembered mumbling about numbers and multiplication tables while bashing his head against the pillows, heaving with blood clotting his throat.

The demon's laughter at the sight was hard enough for a sick child, but the gentle hands that cleaned him up and nursed him back to health was the worst punishment he had ever received.

Since then he knew better than to keep quiet. Anything was better than the sensation of words clawing their way out of his throat, air becoming scarce and mind growing frantic with panic. Trauma sunk its claws into his eight year old brain and took residence there, permanently.

Izuku hated himself for showing weakness to his kidnapper. Unfortunately, Giran had seen many of them throughout the years of his captivity. Surprisingly , he had never made fun of Izuku over them. The only reaction he would ever garner from his kidnapper was his knowing smirks.

Izuku shook himself out of his thoughts, moving to follow Giran out of the deserted building they called home-base. They entered the slick black car waiting for them and Izuku settled into the front seat with Giran taking the wheel.

Mom had never allowed him sit in the front seat.

His throat tightened at the memory of kind eyes like any other time he recalled something from his old life.

Izuku bit his lip and glared at his kidnapper when Giran gestured for him to buckle up; he looked away when no reaction came. As the driver started the car, Izuku sighed and slumped in his seat; he folded his arms in a childish sign of rebellion.

Giran ruffled his hair, causing Izuku to scowl, and gracefully wheeled the car out of its parking spot and onto the empty streets; he eventually joined the traffic in the busier streets.

"Who is it this time?" Izuku sunk deeper into the seat and rested his head on the cool window, closing his heavy eyes.

"The head of a newly formed gang. He likes to call himself Yama Kintsuki."

Izuku rolled his eyes. "Something with gold or minerals?"

"Close. He can control flow."

"Flow?" Izuku raised a brow, finally sitting up and looking at Giran. "The flow of small particles or the flow of time?"

"Small particles,dust; whatever you want call it. He works best with gold but he can use other metals and gems."

Izuku hummed and rested his chin on his hand, pondering over the new information. "So he probably knows how to maneuver within small spaces. Not to mention, rich from the amount of the minerals he can obtain with his quirk. If he can mold them over people and trap them in it, it would be really interesting to witness, especially since some human bones are five on the Mohs' scale and gold is only two point five yet it is heavy and malleable. Diamond is also a good option, or moissanite, since they're both hard but moissanite is more rare so that might not be the best choice. Is bort considered a gem by his quirk? But honestly, gold is better since—"

"He's wanted by a client of mine. They want to form an alliance for some heists."

Izuku hated being interrupted. "Do I care about this client?"

Giran's teeth flashed in the passing street lights. "Bull teeth."

A shiver ran up Izuku's spine.

As cringe-worthy as the name was, the woman behind that name was a truly terrifying beast. Her real alias was Minotaur and as her namesake suggested, she looked like one. Her face and mane were those of a red bull; the rest of her was muscular and furry yet she was clearly a female. Sometimes, Izuku wondered if she was actually a bull with a quirk instead of the other way.

She liked violence and was intelligent despite having a hard time controlling her temper.

What could Bull Teeth want from a nimble fingered gang leader?

"Excellent question. Though, not one you should know since it's not your job to know."

Izuku gnawed his lower lip at the slip up, worrying over the long scar left over from his only session with Bringer.

"Stop listening to my ramblings," He said for the umpteenth time in the past four years.

"Can't do that, Ya'rok."

Izuku hated their almost normal banter.

Giran snickered, knowing the effect of his response. "You're there to learn how to convince this person to visit our client despite having no information on them since Bull Teeth is a bitch."

Izuku pushed his cheek into the buckle strap over his shoulder, using it as a cushion. "Whatever…"

Giran didn't reply to that, instead focusing on the road.

Izuku hated him so much.

If only Giran would die.

please read and review on my stories. I would love to hear your thoughts and ideas. Who knows, maybe there will be a debate.

ENJOY~

OC's list I own:

kintsuki yama (quirk: flow. can control the flow of particles of metals. works best with gold) and bringer (quirk: truth. by touching someone's temples with his fingers can force out all information the victim knows about certain subjects)