Tuesday, year 2XXX, 3rd of may, 10:54 AM, Yokohama Japan:
As the morning sun shone brightly down upon the puddles of water left behind by that previous night's storm, a soft breeze blew, rustling the leaves of nearby bushes and trees. The atmosphere was calm and peaceful.
…too peaceful.
Splash! The dirty, muddied water soaked the man who charged through it at top speed. Smoke trailing out of his nostrils as his minor fire breathing quirk began to activate through sheer stress and panic alone. The man with the green comb over, losing his hair despite only being forty one, with laughter lines and tan skin, was carrying a large silver atishay case close to his chest and stumbling slightly as he bolted round the corner of a building. Hyperventilating, he took only fifteen point twelve seconds to open the case. Fingers shaking, he typed on the laptop that was held inside three words.
'They found me'.
He only just managed to send it to Naomasa Tsukauchi before a series of five gunshots rang out in the distance.
"You're really wasting my time, old man."
Shaking and holding in a breath, he stayed as quiet as possible before shutting the laptop and locking the case. Feeling crimson drip down his nose, he realized that one of the bullets must have grazed him. After a moment of silence, the bullet storm once again raised hell, this time shooting his right shoulder. He cried out in pain and collapsed to the floor, dropping the laptop. A heel stood firmly atop the case. "My, my. You certainly like to keep yourself busy." A deep formidable voice teased. "But I'm afraid this is the end of the line for a traitor like you."
Cold steel pushed to his forehead, the mole looked up, glaring at the man before him. "Go to hell, Ogai. The information is gone now. They'll track you down whether or not you kill me." There was a chuckle. "It's been fun. And you can rest assured we aren't done with your family yet." That made his heart sink. The world temporarily went quiet. No. No, they couldn't. Izuku was only 15. He was still a child! And Inko- oh God, his beautiful family. "You think you can threaten me?" Hisashi spat. "No. You're just a stupid man with too much power. A man who enjoys tormenting others and grooming children into crime. You won't turn my son into another Dazai, I'll tell you that much. You broke that kid. You turned him into a suicidal, homicidal monster. I'll be damned if you do that to Izuku."
"I'm going to guess those are your last words. Trust me when I say, Osamu was born for this line of work. I did what I had to, in order to show him his true potential. Oh, and I'll tell you one last thing, Hisashi Midoriya."
*click*
"I'm going to have fun molding him to my will."
"Fuck you-"
Then, it all went dark. And the last thing Hisashi midoriya heard was a soft chuckle before everything faded out into nothing.
—
Tuesday, year 2XXX, 3rd of may, 11:48 AM, Musutafu Japan:
*Drip, drip, drip, drip*
She really did need to get that tap fixed.
*Drip, drip, drip, drip*
But what would be the point?
*Drip, drip, drip, drip*
The water bill no longer mattered, after all.
*Drip, drip, drip, drip*
Nothing did.
"Is he going to be here soon?" Mori asked, smile plastered onto his lips. Inko didn't know if it was more or less comfortable that it was a genuine display of emotion from the man. She swallowed. "H-hopefully not." She murmured, doing her best to stand her ground. She felt a tight hand clench around her shoulder as one of the armed men gave her a menacing look. His quirk gave him some form of metal hands, small spikes digging into her shoulder blade with just enough pressure so it didn't break skin. This man clearly knew what he was doing. He kept a watchful eye on the door, gun cocked with safety off. Loaded but not aimed. He was collected. Confident. A threat.
And yet, Inko couldn't bring herself to care.
*Drip, drip, drip, drip*
Their silence was broken by the buzz of the iphone laying flat on the glass coffee table. It rung three times before Mori spoke up. "It's ok, it's him. Pick it up." He smiled.
This time, however, the smile did not reach his eyes. There was a slight twitch to them as well, just once. Something Inko was only able to pick up on due to her own son being so good at hiding things. Emotions. Bandaids. She was extremely upset when she found cigarettes in his draw once. Soon after that the tobacco disappeared, but he still came home with the smell attached to his clothes. He was using them for anxiety, according to him. She hadn't smelled smoke in two weeks after their conversation, however. Too scared to see his mother upset.
She was going to miss that smell tremendously.
Shakily, despite herself, she picked up the phone on the fourth wring. Instantly, a cheerful voice spoke up. Youthful and stuttering ever so slightly. She could feel herself getting teary. But not here. She would not cry in front of these men.
"Mom, I got your text. Is everything ok?"
"Put him on speaker." Mori demanded with false patience. She sighed and set the phone down on the table.
"Everything is fine, sweetie. I do need you to hurry home, though."
'Stupid.' She chided herself. 'Please, izuku, run and never look back.'
"Why? O-Oh, I forgot to tell you. Momo wants to hang out. Is it ok if I go to hers tomorrow for dinner? She can drop me back off. I'm sorry for not telling you sooner, I kind of forgot." Shit. She could hear the smile in his voice. Clenching her teeth for a brief moment, the mother continued. "It's fine sweetie." She sniffed. "Please, just… hurry home. There's someone here to see you." She heard a chuckle. "Well, I'm, um, I am within walking distance of the house. I'll see you in a minute or two!"
"Oh, baby, one more thing." She added on quickly. Mori raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, mom?"
"Run. Please, run away as fast as you can." The gun was now aimed at her head. She closed her eyes. "What? What do you mean?"
She didn't waste any time cutting him off. "There's people in the house that will kidnap you. Please, run! They killed your father, they won't stop-"
For some reason, Inko couldn't say anything else. Her body crashed onto the table in front of her. The glass shattered on impact as Izuku's now teary voice called out desperately through the phone.
—
It's ridiculous what his mother said on the phone. And yet… the fact his dad hasn't picked up the phone. The way Inko's voice shook, actually shook. The loud gunshot-
No, He refused to do nothing. All Might wanted him, right? This was exactly like when Kacchan was in trouble with the sludge villain. He needed to help his mother. And he needed to do it fast. But if these were armed men, what good would a quirkless loser like him even do?
Could he even do anything? "Fuck it." He cursed under his breath. He'd been training for ten weeks. Surely he could at least get his mother out to escape? He thought about calling the police but… there wasn't any time. All he had time for was a text to All Might.
'Come to my house ASAP. big emergency. Mom hurt. Strangers in house.'
Sending the quick message, he switched his phone off and sprinted over to his front door. Opening his bag to see what was inside. Some hand weights, his wallet, a can of cola, his gym shoes and his hero notebook. Picking up the hand weights tightly, he opened his door. Heart racing as he heard a confused mutter behind it. "Go see who's there." A man's voice. So his mother was telling the truth. He swallowed. She was fine. He could think about his father later. Think about everything later. Right now he needed to focus. He gasped quietly upon seeing the man in a black suit and tie with a handgun exit the house. He tilted his head. "Over here." Izuku said, cringing at his voice breaking slightly. The armed man turned to face him, smirking down at the fifteen year old. Without a second to waste, he punched the intruder square in the face with the hand weights. He stumbled back, spitting out blood. Izuku landed a firm kick to his head while he was distracted.
Spinning around on his heels, he froze.
It was his mother. But… not quite.
Why was she slumped over on the coffee table? Why were all those men surrounding her?
Why
Was
She
Covered
In
Blood?
"…mom?"
And then, he felt an arm wrap tightly around his shoulder and a prick in his neck. He flinched. His eyes began to water and his vision blurred as he stumbled. "You can thank your father for this mess." The voice taunted. Izuku reached out a hand in desperation, before collapsing to the floor unconscious.
—
Yagi Toshinori had failed.
He failed the boy.
As he stared at the bloodied corpse of Inko Midoriya, he knew he had failed her son.
He hadn't expected to be sick that night. But worry is a powerful thing. *Death* is a powerful thing. Those messages sent to Tsukauchi by Hisashi Midoriya… it pointed to this being the work of one villain group and one villain group only: the Port Mafia. Known for being smugglers of guns and hard drugs, holding political power over the criminal underworld of Japan, at least in Yokohama. Other places like Musutafu and even Tokyo had reported large amounts of criminal activity associated with them going on. More death then Japan had seen for over thirty three years in Tokyo, and more criminal activity in the last three years than the heroes had ever hoped to see. For the last twenty six years, the Port Mafia had been a huge thorn in everyone's side. But now was different. Now? They'd messed with his mentee. A child. It wasn't unheard of for them to do this with other children either.
They even had the record for youngest Mafia executive in the world. A boy aged fifteen by the name of Osamu Dazai. Highly dangerous, and there wasn't a doubt in Yagi's mind that Dazai was kidnapped, blackmailed, manipulated or sold into it at some early point in his lifetime. After all, no child with a normal healthy childhood could kill and torture all those people.
Izuku was strong, but how much would they do to him? They need him alive, that much is apparent. And although relieving in one sense, it's worrisome in the other. Torture and abuse can do a lot to a child's mind. The cases he'd seen weren't anything like Eraserhead necessarily, who specifically volunteered at crisis centers for trafficking victims, and specialized in sexual abuse cases or gang activity.
Needless to say he gave Shota Aizawa a call right then and there. The underground hero, upon learning about the kidnapping of Izuku Midoriya, made it a priority to investigate.
But after a week of searching, they found nothing.
Two weeks, no hope.
In fact, there was no information for an entire year and two months. Then, Shota barged into his office with a disgruntled look on his face. "We found him." Is all he had said.
"Is he safe?"
A head shake. The man wordlessly placed a photo down on his desk. Yagi picked it up and held it in front of his eyes. And there he saw him. His boy.
His boy, armed with an AR15, shooting alongside Osamu Dazai himself. "This photo… where did you-"
"A civilian took it, we just printed it off. It's since been deleted at our request. Apparently this shootout was public. But it's on our records now. Notice the scar?"
Of course he did, there's no way he wouldn't. Over his left eye and under an eyepatch. He nodded once in conformation. Shota sighed. "We have a lead. But people change. You still think he wants to be a hero?" The older man said "yes" before he had a chance to think about it. Eraserhead shrugged. "You said he was a good kid, and any kid deserves a second chance. I'll see what I can do." He responded after a moment, turning to leave the room.
"Thank you, Shota."
The man stopped, and sighed once more. "Don't thank me for doing my job. We'll bring him home, Yagi. Just a little longer."
—
Thursday, year 2XXX, 5th of may, 2:43 AM, Yokohama Japan:
It had taken two days for the tears to stop once the reality of his situation and the loss of his parents settled in. Thankfully, they hadn't bothered him unless it was to bring him food. Izuku's cage was definitely not helping. There was a toilet with toilet paper and a sink with soap. A bed with a pillow and blanket. Other then that it was pretty much barren.
"You still crying?" Came a young, teasing voice. Izuku looked up to see a lanky bandaged kid, with shaggy brown hair looking down at him. "…no. I think I've stopped." He sighed. He felt too emotionally exhausted, embarrassed and scared to say much else or think up a defense, the boy chuckled. "Hey, I get it. I've lost people too. Losing both parents and being kidnapped on the same day? I don't blame you for being upset. Hell, I would be to." He shrugged with a slight smile. "So I'm gonna be nice to you today. Help you settle in. You're no use to us broken."
"…if you're here to taunt me, then you can leave me alone."
Another chuckle. "I'm not, I swear. You don't seem like much of a meathead. You've got a brain up there, huh? We saw your notes." Izuku's breath hitched in his throat. "You… are you going to hurt the heroes?" The boy blinked, before giggling to himself. "I mean the others might! I'm not sure little old me could do that all by myself, however." Izuku sighed with relief. "Then, if you aren't taunting me and you aren't here to ask about my notes… what are you here for? Some kind of offer for me?"
"…See? Sharp as a tack you are. My name is Osamu Dazai. I'm an executive here, and it turns out, thanks to those notes, Boss thinks you're useful. I'm here to convince you to take your first life."
And the penny dropped.