Hosu moved and shifted like a giant anthill, a thrumming machine. Lights turned on and off, cars honked, people flowed with the rhythm of daily life.
It was a cesspool. A cesspool that resisted Stain's efforts to cleanse it.
The vigilante grit his teeth as his blood boiled once again, cold fury rippling underneath his skin as he thought of those two. Phoenix and Wraith, the former had called them. The two were skilled, Chizome couldn't deny that, and they had the conviction this society lacked. Furthermore, as vigilantes, they rejected any and all compensation and media attention. However, their goals and his fundamentally opposed one another. Those men had rejected Stain's own convictions, and anyway, there were things about them that bothered the Hero Killer in relation to such. For example, that Phoenix guy, despite the sheer power of his quirk, seemed afraid to push it to its full potential. His leg still prickled with the pain of the burn Phoenix had inflicted on him. If that young man had truly desired to, Chizome knew he could have ended that fight in seconds.
He could have incinerated him.
Of course, in and of itself, it wasn't necessarily wrong of Phoenix to hold back in that way. The implied idealism and nobility of sparing lives wasn't out of line with All Might's heroism, but the result was that he'd been forced to rely on the power of another, and that was unforgivable.
And speaking of that 'another'…
Despite burning many of his bridges in the underworld, Chizome had heard rumors of 'Wraith'. To the villainous crowd, he was a mysterious figure that had supposedly single-handedly demolished dozens of gambling dens, drug rings, quirk-trafficking circles, blackmarket suppliers, and so on across the nation. Any unexpected dissolution of a notorious criminal organization was attributed to Wraith. He was like the boogeyman of the villainous elite, the dark knight of Japan.
Among the vigilante crowd, Wraith was a legend.
He had appeared nearly two years ago, dressed all in black and drifting around the country like his namesake. Nobody knew what he looked like or even what he sounded like (hell, some people even claimed that 'he' was in fact a 'she'), as Wraith was known for communicating using only sign language and written forms of communication. He had some kind of telekinesis quirk, but no one could quite agree on what it was capable of, nor how powerful it really was. He was a master of stealth and appeared to have been highly trained in martial arts, and furthermore, it was hedged by most of its leaders that Wraith was, in fact, the man responsible for the organization of the Vigilante Network, a loose collection of vigilante cells spread throughout the country, feeding one another information by unknown means and taking assignments from an unknown central nervous system against threats in their respective regions. To be honest, most of the mysteriously destroyed criminal groups had probably been taken out by the Network. And if the rumors were true and Wraith really was the centerpoint of it all, then in a way he was the man that had destroyed them all.
In short, Wraith was everything that Stain preached a hero should be. He refused compensation, actively avoided media attention, rescued people even when they didn't deserve saving, and he was powerful, judging by his ability to fend him off-Chizome hadn't managed to cut him even once. And yet, if he was so powerful, then why had he created an entire network to do his business for him? What were his convictions, his desires? He couldn't know until he heard the man speak, but Wraith refused to do so, no matter how many times Stain had tried to goad him. Of course, even that demonstrated his conviction, and that was something that the Hero Killer couldn't help but admire. One way or another, he had earned Stain's grudging deference to Ingenium's life. It didn't feel right to finish off the man that someone so like a true hero had fought so hard to protect. It really was strange, how much these feelings of rage intermingled with his feelings of respect.
The faint ripple of energy in the air around him had Chizome reacting instinctively, flicking his sword directly towards the imminent threat.
"Please, do not be alarmed," a deep voice rumbled. "We are of the same mind."
Frowning, Chizome looked to where his katana had entered a dark body with yellowish eyes that had quite literally been formed from mist. The stranger's body rippled slightly, but it didn't seem to have been hurt by the blow. Offhandedly, the Hero Killer wondered if the man bled at all. If not, it would be difficult to incapacitate him if necessary.
"I have been searching for you, Hero Killer: Stain. I heard of your exploits, and wished to meet you in person. I think you'll be interested in what my employers and I have to offer."
"And who might your employers be?" Chizome sneered, rising from his crouch, his katana still held at the ready for instant use.
"If you would come with me," the smoky man replied lowly, "they would be honored to have you meet them in person."
Stain couldn't deny that his curiosity was piqued. Someone with something to offer him, the Hero Killer? What would they want? Was it possible that he had finally found someone that shared in his noble goals? "Fine," he grunted. "I'll go with you. But know this: should you so much as think of betraying me, I will destroy you."
"Of course. I would expect nothing less from one of such dedication."
Before Chizome could respond, a rush of purple-black smoke flowed from the man's body, surrounding him. The blademaster's eyes widened in surprise as a strange sensation swept through him, almost like he was being frozen in place and yet flying forward at the same time. When he felt the world steady once again, he found himself in an alley beside the back entrance of a dirty, off-white building.
"This way," the man directed, unlocking the door and leading Chizome through it. Inside, the stairwell leading upwards and the hall it was connected to were surprisingly well-maintained, if rather dimly lit. The wooden floors had been scrubbed clean, and certain areas of the walls had been expertly patched up, the only indication of damage being the lack of a recent paint job.
"Ah, so you made it! Thanks for running this little errand for me, Kurogiri," a voice called eagerly as he was led through the end door into what appeared to be a darkened bar, complete with the bottles of alcohol arrayed behind the counter, glasses hanging from various racks, and a TV in the corner that was probably originally meant for watching sports or the news or whatever, but was now wired up with approximately four different game consoles. Sitting at the bar and swirling a cup of golden liquid with a three-fingered grip was a young man with bluish-white hair, black clothes, and a disembodied hand covering the bulk of his face. "It's good to meet you, Hero Killer: Stain," the young man practically purred, and even without seeing it, Chizome knew that he was grinning.
"I'm afraid you're better informed than I am," Chizome frowned, watching out of the corner of his eye as 'Kurogiri', now dressed in a simple suit complete with a white shirt, black slacks, gray vest and a tie, made his way behind the bar and began cleaning a discarded glass. "Who the hell are you?"
"I'm Shigaraki Tomura," came the almost-flippant reply. "And I'm the guy who's gonna tear this society apart."
"Really?" Chizome asked, mildly intrigued in spite of himself. "And how do you intend to do that?"
"What do you mean how?" Shigaraki smirked, taking a sip from his drink. "It's easy to destroy a society that's built on top of a single pillar."
A single pillar, huh. Then this guy must be after…
"Now I get it," Chizome sneered, his interest in this entire conversation waning even more rapidly than it had been piqued. "You must be the guys that attacked UA. And you wanna recruit me to build up your little group again."
"Yeah. It'll be great; you've got so much experience," the brat grinned, apparently oblivious to Chizome's growing lack of interest.
"And what's your mission?"
"For now? I really just wanna kill All Might. I like to destroy anything that pisses me off. Like this brat, here," Shigaraki growled, raising a picture of a girl with short, bobbed brown hair and a wobbly smile wearing a silver medal around her neck. It was one of the few photos released from the UA Sports Festival this year-the headshots of the top four victors of each year.
Not that those kids meant anything to Stain.
"I was a fool to think that you could offer me anything," Chizome growled, Shigaraki's flippant arrogance grating at his nerves. "It turns out you're the type of person that I hate most in this world. The goals of your League are those of a child. What meaning is there to killing if you don't have real convictions?"
"Excuse me?" Shigaraki frowned, lowering his glass.
Behind the bar, Kurogiri seemed to tense, glancing quickly between Chizome and Shigaraki and setting aside the cup he had been cleaning as he turned towards the TV in the corner of the room. "Master, should I step in?" he asked no-one that Chizome could see. A moment later, the TV flickered to life on its own, revealing the words Audio Only displayed across the otherwise-blank screen.
"Let it happen," a new voice replied simply. "It's possible this is the only way he'll learn anything. He needs to think about the ways he can grow-how he must mature. It's the only way he'll reach his full potential."
So whoever Kurogiri was really working for wasn't going to take action. Still, there was no harm in assuring that the warping man couldn't do anything to stop him. Too fast for either man to react, Stain sprang forward, drawing one of his many daggers from its sheath in the process. Shigaraki instinctively leaped away from him, only to realize his mistake when, instead of attacking the brat, the Hero Killer slashed Kurogiri's arm. The warping man reeled back in surprise, blood (thankfully) seeping from the wound. Moving quickly, Stain licked the blood from his knife, freezing Kurogiri in place before turning to his brat of a boss and leaping at him. After his initial flash of surprise, Shigaraki made a grab for him, his red eyes flashing behind that hand he insisted on wearing.
So likely a five-point quirk.
Stain dodged in an instant, seizing the brat's wrist as he continued his forward rush, knocking him to the ground and thrusting his knife into his shoulder. Shigaraki hissed in pain, but to his credit, didn't scream. "So you want me to be a part of your crumbling little League. But you won't accomplish anything if you don't have conviction and desire. Without those, you'll always be nothing: a nameless weakling. That's how you got here."
"Hey now, you're being a little rough, aren't you?" Shigaraki panted, sounding almost petulant, like a child. "Kurogiri, take this guy back!"
"I'm sorry; I can't move!" came the response. "It must be the Hero Killer's quirk at work."
Stain allowed himself a cold smile at that, but didn't allow the distraction to pull him away from his preaching as he drew his knife steadily closer to Shigarki's throat. "The word 'hero' has lost all meaning in this society. The world is overrun by fakes and criminals chasing petty dreams. You must all be purged."
"Kurogiri-san, I'm- Ugh. Goddammit, I thought I told you not to try talking to the Hero Killer without me, Tenko."
"Don't call me that, you little brat!"
Chizome twisted in surprise back towards the door leading into the bar itself, where a child in a sweatshirt and jeans stood in bright red shoes, holding what appeared to be a grocery bag in one hand. "And who the hell are you supposed to be?"
"Deku," came the matter-of-fact response as the boy walked up to the counter and dropped the bag beside Kurogiri, apparently uninterested in the scene before him.
"Dammit Deku, you weren't supposed to be back yet!" Shigaraki snarled beneath him.
"Was the whole grocery run just a ploy to get me out of the bar, then?" Deku asked, quirking a mildly-amused eyebrow in the brat's direction. "Well anyway, now that I'm here, should I get him off of you?"
"Drop dead! I'll kill this bastard myself!"
"Someone with such a weak conviction couldn't possibly hurt me," Stain sneered, bringing his blade down once more. "Not to mention, someone who constantly relies on the strength of others." He was honestly a little bit surprised when Shigaraki's hand suddenly snapped up to grab the knife. Sure, he hadn't taken any of the brat's blood, but still, the pain from the knife in his shoulder should have been enough to stop him from moving, and anyway he hadn't expected him to grip his dagger so tightly, in spite of the blood now welling up from a wound on his palm.
"What are you talking about?" Shigaraki hissed, that blood-red eye glittering. "You think I need that bastard's help to destroy you? Then you're dead wrong. I'll kill you myself!"
Dark lines were beginning to spread across the blade of the knife. Stain watched in amazement as the metal cracked and began to give. "You sure talk a lot, Hero Killer. Conviction? Maybe I don't have anything as loaded as that. If I had to choose a desire though, yeah, it'd be killing All Might. If this world wants to worship trash like him, then I'll destroy their beloved Symbol of Peace and crush them while they're in shock!"
Stain leaped back as the knife finally crumbled to dust and Shigaraki made a swipe for his head. The bluish-haired boy staggered to his feet, grimacing as he glowered at the blood dripping down his arm and scratched at his neck with the other hand in obvious distress. "Dammit," he hissed. "You should learn not to play with knives. We don't have a healer in our party you know."
"What am I, chopped liver?" Deku rolled his eyes. "I'll have a look at it later, Tenko. Just don't aggravate it any more than you already have."
"I'd rather bleed out than let you touch me, Deku," Shigaraki spat back.
"Then let Kurogiri-san do it, just stop acting like a toddler," the curly-haired boy sighed before turning shockingly green eyes on him. "Stain, right? Would you mind if I had a word with you?"
"What the hell, Deku!? Just let that bastard leave or drop dead or whatever the hell he wants to do; someone as crazy as him could only be a problem for the League of Villains!"
"I'm not going to lose a potentially valuable ally just because you decided to throw a tantrum, Tenko," Deku snorted. "Kurogiri-san, we'll be on the roof. Take care of Tenko in the meantime."
Without waiting for a response from any of them, Deku strode calmly back towards the exit and held the door, looking at Chizome expectantly. In spite of himself, the Hero Killer found himself following, sheathing the knife still soaked with Shigaraki's blood as he went. There had been something in Shigaraki, certainly. Warped and twisted, but there was some form of conviction and desire in him. But this boy, the calm authority and quiet, commanding presence he carried with him… That was intriguing.
Deku quietly led the way through another door to another set of stairs, which then opened onto the roof. It was still midafternoon-plenty of light to make out the greenish tinge to the boy's hair and the freckles smattered across his nose and cheeks when he turned to look back at him, leaning casually against the roof's edge.
"So. You're the Arbiter of Justice. Akaguro Chizome, right?"
Chizome flinched, his eyes blowing wide. "How the hell-"
"It's in my job description," Deku shrugged back. "I'm the League's analyst. Speaking of which, your quirk is really cool; what do you call it? You consume the blood of your opponents to paralyze them, right? And either the amount of blood consumed or their blood type determines how long you can keep them pinned-not enough data to tell. If the latter, then just judging by how long you kept Kurogiri-san down, I'm guessing your max is at around seven or eight minutes, and your minimum… maybe two? One and a half?"
Stain had two daggers in his hands when he dropped into a crouch, eyes narrowed and teeth bared in a snarl. How the hell did he know!?
"Geez, calm down," Deku snorted softly, his body still completely and utterly relaxed, not so much as a hint of fear in those vibrant green eyes. As much as he hated to admit it, Stain was mildly impressed by that. "If I wanted you dead or arrested, you would be already. I'm not here to make enemies, Akaguro-san."
"What the hell are you? You got some kind of analysis quirk or something?"
Deku huffed in quiet laughter. "That's a trade secret, Akaguro-san. I wouldn't be much of an informant if everyone knew where and how I got my information, now would I?"
"Little brat," Chizome growled, hoping to conceal just how off-balance the boy's revelation had caused him to feel.
"Stooping to personal abuse does not become you, Akaguro-san. Considering your years working as Stendahl, I'd have thought you were above all that."
"If you're going to flaunt your knowledge of me, then it's only fair that I know of you, right?"
"Nice try, but you're in our house, remember? And besides-" something sad shadowed Deku's eyes as he glanced away, "-the bright-eyed little kid I once was is long gone," he murmured. "I've seen far too much of this world's darkness to ever go back. Of course, I don't have to explain that to you."
Chizome found himself hesitating, frowning at the boy's wry little smile. Was the child just telling him what he wanted to hear? Or was he sincere? There was a sense of genuineness to the kid, but those emerald green eyes seemed too guarded to give up the truth so readily. "What the hell are you getting at, brat?" he frowned, irritated by how difficult it was to read the boy.
"You already know from your conversation with Tenko why you're here. The League of Villains has use for your skills, Hero Killer: Stain. As an entity, we are not so much offering you membership as proposing a partnership."
"A partnership?" Chizome frowned. "Why should I accept such an offer from the likes of you after what that crazy moron said downstairs?"
"I would've thought you'd realized by now that I am not Tenko," Deku replied flatly, almost bitterly. "Tenko cares only for wanton violence. His vision of an ideal world is one where everyone lives and dies by blood. I seek a world that defends the hopes of the disenfranchised of this society. I fight for a world that embraces one another's differences, and people are evaluated for more than just the strength of their quirk." The boy's eyes seemed to burn as he spoke of his convictions. For the first time, Stain felt himself shudder internally, captured by that brilliant light, the strength of the boy's resolve. And yet…
"And you believe that becoming a villain was the best way to see that world made?" Chizome frowned at him. He really sounded far too idealistic to be in with someone like Shigaraki, or even generally a group whose aim was to destroy the Symbol of Peace.
"Yes. In that sense, Akaguro-san, we're somewhat alike. We know that any society must first be destroyed in order to be remade."
He was right in that much, at least. He found himself wanting to believe him, but before that could happen… I must know how sincere he truly is.
In a flash, Stain rushed forward, his sword whipping from its sheath. Seemingly in less than a millisecond, Deku dropped his carefree demeanor, his brilliant green eyes turning sharp and cold and blazing with light as he prepared to meet the Hero Killer. Still, Stain knew as he swung the blade that it was too little too late. The boy had no armor of any kind; he couldn't possibly-
His sword skated off of Deku's skin.
Stain's eyes widened in shock. He'd cut the boy's sweatshirt; that much was clear. A hardening quirk? But he-
Deku grabbed his wrist.
In a flash, the boy had twisted Chizome's arm behind his back, spun him off balance, and thrown him over his shoulder, sending his back slamming into the ground and thoroughly knocking the wind out of him. Before Stain could recover, the boy was on him once again, his knee digging into his chest, one hand gripping his throat with a warning pressure, the other holding one of Stain's own daggers between his eyes. Deku's own eyes were still glowing that radioactive shade of emerald, and a small smile was curling his lips.
"Too predictable, Akaguro-san," he whispered. "You believe that the only way to see a person's true nature is to bring them to the verge of death. Seeing as that role has been reversed, I suppose now it's my chance to see your nature, Hero Killer.
"You're a fanatic. You worship All Might as a god just like the rest of this rotting society, and to be perfectly honest, I don't particularly like the idea of working with you, either. You believe just like everyone else that anyone who can't in some way live up to the impossible standard All Might has created doesn't even deserve to exist in the society he represents. You don't seem to realize that even though All Might may be the Symbol of Peace for some, for many others he is, quite simply, a symbol of despair-a reminder of the futility they were born into. So, in order to destroy the society that keeps them trapped, the pillar keeping it aloft must also come tumbling down."
"In that case," Stain choked past the pressure on his chest and his lungs' reluctance to expand, "it seems our goals may fundamentally oppose one another."
"You may be right about that," Deku chuckled humorlessly, "seeing as how your only criteria for determining a false hero seems to be arbitrarily deciding whether or not they're living up to that impossible standard." Stain growled softly at the implication in the boy's words, but Deku merely smiled again and rose to his feet, casually tucking Stain's knife in his sweatshirt pocket and walking back to the edge of the roof, quietly watching the people hurrying through the streets below. "Still, as little as I like you and your methods, you and I still have something the other wants."
Still wheezing, Chizome forcibly began to push himself upright once more, ignoring the instinct to check his throat for a bruise. "In what way?" he gasped.
"Tell me, Akaguro-san, do you keep track of what the news reports concerning your kills?"
"What do you mean?"
"Neurocleaver, Watt Punch, and Hornet Burn. I don't approve of all your targets, but even I'll admit that those three had shady records, Watt Punch in particular; there was substantial evidence to him being an alcoholic and consistently abusing his wife. However, do you know what the media has been saying about him?"
"No, I can't say I do," Chizome admitted, frowning at him.
"In the past month alone, there have been three media outlets inundating the web and the press with praise for his heroic acts and stories about how he left behind a wife and two kids-without a word on the rumors of abuse, I might add-on top of which two film companies have started fighting for rights to make a documentary about him. In short, they're taking your statements and turning them into epitaphs on the graves of martyrs."
Chizome felt himself bristle in irritation at this news, growling softly. "Idiots," he hissed under his breath.
"On that, we most definitely agree," Deku nodded, his expression souring. "On that note, I believe that is where we may be able to help one another. You're not going to be able to truly change anything if your ideals continue going unheard, Akaguro-san. We have the notoriety to give you a platform to make your convictions known. Meanwhile you have the skills to remove certain nuisances from the League's path."
"You're asking me to be your assassin."
"I suppose, more or less."
"Bah," Stain sneered. "I don't take commissions, brat. There is no meaning to killing without conviction. I only hunt heroes that stand solely for money and fame. Heroes that claim to fight for the people but in truth only fight for themselves."
"Yes, we've established that," Deku sighed, rolling his eyes slightly, "and I don't disagree with your motives, Akaguro-san. Frankly, it was heroes failing in their duty that brought me to this point as well. That is why I don't think you would be adverse to the types of people I would assign you to hunt down."
"And what makes you say that?"
"In order to show its people just how rotten this society has become and the necessity of change, I intend to discredit those heroes that, as you put it, 'stand solely for money and fame'. Heroes like Watt Punch, Vermillion… and Endeavor."
Chizome's eyes widened. That… That was an ambitious goal. Again, in spite of all of his suspicions and doubts, he found himself intrigued by the thought. "You really think you could defeat the number two hero?"
Deku smiled, and the expression was that of the devil himself. "Easily."
Once again, Stain felt a shiver run down his spine. He may only be a child, but for some reason, Chizome didn't doubt him. This boy… he could do it. If given free rein over society, he could change the world. He could reform it. Stain felt a similar, wide grin stretch across his face.
"Perhaps I will consider your offer," he conceded. "Still, I will require some time to think it over. In the meantime, I would like to be returned to Hosu. There are still some false heroes that I must purge."
"Of course, Akaguro-san," Deku nodded. "Take all the time you need. When you're ready to make your decision-" a wicked smirk curled his mouth "-I'll know."
Outtake:
Kurogiri had just finished cleaning Shigaraki Tomura's blood from his hands and had been preparing to clean his own cut when he received a page from Deku. Immediately, he allowed his warpgate to flow out of him and, in little more than a blink, he was standing on the rooftop alongside the League's young analyst and the Hero Killer.
"You summoned me, Deku?"
"Send the Hero Killer back to Hosu, Kurogiri-san. We've concluded our business for now."
"Very well," Kurogiri nodded agreeably, summoning the appropriate warpgate.
"We'll be in touch, Akaguro-san," Deku said simply as the Hero Killer: Stain stepped into it.
"I look forward to it," was the Hero Killer's only reply before the gate closed behind him.
A brief silence descended between the two of them before Deku sighed deeply, leaning back against the wall and running his fingers through his curly hair. "Did the negotiations go well, then?" Kurogiri asked.
"He said that he'll consider our proposal," the young man shrugged in reply. "Ultimately, that's about the best outcome the League could have hoped for."
"What do you think of him?"
"I think he's an arrogant hypocrite that doesn't even realize how badly he's contradicting himself," Deku replied, his eyes narrowing into a glare as he stared over the city, "especially considering what he did to Ingenium. He sees Heroes as gods, and anyone that shows even the slightest hint of mortal fallibility must not be worthy of the title. Personally, I prefer it when Heroes don't pretend to be anything more than they really are: human. Still, like I said to Tenko, I wasn't going to let a temper tantrum rob the League of a potentially valuable asset. Least of all my own."
"In that case, I appreciate you stepping in when you did."
"Don't mention it," Deku sighed, pushing himself off of the wall. He glanced Kurogiri over, his eyes fixating on his still-wounded arm. "Let's see to that," he said, gesturing towards the injury and taking the lead back down the stairs to the bar.
Kurogiri never quite understood that. Even though it would be much faster and easier for the boy to use his warping ability, he never asked Kurogiri to use it unless it was for long-range travel. Still, the shadow-man complied, following the boy back to the taproom where Shigaraki Tomura was already immersed in another videogame and taking a seat on one of the bar stools while Deku washed his hands and fetched the first aid kit. In silence, he watched as Deku used an alcohol wipe to swab his arm and swiped it with an antibacterial cream before sealing it closed with butterfly strips and covering the lot with a gauze patch and a bandage.
"I'll change it later," Deku murmured as he packed the supplies away, rolling his eyes as Shigaraki Tomura swore at the TV screen. "For now, I still have work to do. I'll be back tonight."
"Do you need me to transport you anywhere?" Kurogiri offered, rolling his sleeve back over his tended arm.
Deku paused, considering. "Would you send me to Tokyo? Perhaps near Ginza? It's usually a good place to practice my analyses."
"Certainly. Just let me know when you wish to return."
"Thank you, Kurogiri-san."
Once Deku's warpgate had vanished, Shigaraki Tomura lowered his controller. "So? What happened?" he asked quietly.
"The Hero Killer: Stain is considering joining us."
Shigaraki Tomura snarled, the controller turning to dust in his hands as he gripped it too tightly. "That bastard… and that brat… No… No, I can't accept this. I won't accept this," he growled, rising to his feet. "Master, how many Nomu are completed?"
Deku's reaction to finding Shigaraki with Stain on his chest is one of my beta reader's favorite moments in this entire story. It's one of mine too, actually. :D Also just a quick heads up, if I'm slow responding to you guys today, it's because I'll be on a plane for four-ish hours. Sorry.
So! I really enjoy the dialogue in this chapter. We get to see a little bit more of Izuku's perspective on things and hear a little bit more of what's going through his head. What do y'all think of his convictions? His role in the League as we've seen it so far? I'm so excited for what's to come!
Speaking of which! September 8th we're going into the Hosu Incident, seen through the glasses of our favorite robot-armed (not) Class Representative! Until then, go beyond! PLUS ULTRA!