"Hey, Shinso. Look man, I know you don't agree with how I handled that whole fiasco with the USJ. I can't say I regret it, because I don't, but I hope we're still cool. I'm alright with still working with you a bit if you're still interested."
Michael set down the phone with a sigh, hoping that Shinso would bother to even listen to his voicemail. Sipping his coffee from yesterday, the cold drink keeping him awake despite how long he'd been up. 'May as well see bout doin something while I wait.'
After rolling a joint, he dialed up Kurogiri, the bartender answering the phone nearly immediately. "Eager for a chat so soon, Mr. Farron?"
"If you wanna call it that then sure, Kurogiri. I'm calling about the suit."
"You've worn it once and you're already looking for alterations to be done?"
"You said the supplier wanted it to be perfectly made to my standards didn't you? I'm just holding people to their words."
"Very well. If you give me a moment to retrieve it, I'll deliver it and the maker's address."
"Thank you."
"Think nothing of it, Mr. Farron. Always a pleasure to speak to you." The warper said before ending the call.
In a matter of moments, a small portal opened above his bed, the silver case from before dropping on his mattress with a thud. A slip of paper followed after, lazily swaying in the air before coming to land on the case. "Mildly concerned he knows where my bed is, despite never showing him… Fuck it." A lazy swipe and the paper was in hand, his eyes committing the address to memory before shredding it. Grabbing the case, Michael left his house, locking the door behind him as he left.
He walked casually, briefcase in one hand and his joint in the other. The address wasn't too far away from his house, only three blocks. The walk was quiet, the early autumn air was cool, not quite the bite of cold he so despised. Dead leaves rustled about, the morning work traffic stirring them along the street he walked. Stopping at a crosswalk, he took the time to take a long drag, the smoke relaxing his mind and body. The smoke mixed in with the condensation of his exhale, completing the image of a serene autumn in the suburbs. He would normally obsess over the detail, but chose to just appreciate it all in his tired state. A few minutes more of walking and he came to stop in front of what looked like an abandoned car shop. Taking a moment to scan his surroundings, he walked in.
Opening the door unleashed a rush of heat and roar of sound. Screeching metal was followed by a loud crash of something hitting the floor in the distance. Looking at the source of the riotous sound, he saw a masked figure holding a blowtorch and hammer. "Hey! I gotta speak to whoever runs this… Business?"
The figure turned and slid their mask up to reveal the grease marked face of a woman. Her pink hair and yellow eyes only accentuate her brighter than normal smile.
"Well hiya!"
"Howdy… You run this place?"
"This is where I make my babies, yeah."
Michael's eyes widened, temporarily shocked by such a bold statement. "Oh. Um… Babies?"
She held up whatever kind of contraption she'd been working on with pride. It looked like some kind of fancy glove to Michael. "Isn't he precious?" She asked.
"Oh. The machines are your babies. Ok, that makes more sense… I guess."
"More sense than what?" She cocked her head to the side, pink dreadlocks spilling out together.
Dread filled Michael as he processed her question. The prospect of having to explain his original train of thought to her becoming an avoid at all costs scenario. "Yeah, look I was told you could help me with this here suit ya made."
She snatched the case from him and opened it on a nearby table. Her yellow crosshair eyes sparkled in delight as she recognized it. "Oh yeah! This is the military armor baby! Too bulky for my tastes, but that's what you wanted right?"
"Yeah, no, the bulk is fine. I'm just here for some possible additions to it all, if you're not too busy at least." He said, eyeing the glowing metal on the floor.
"I can always make time for my babies. So what do you wanna add to her?"
"I need a respirator and loudspeaker built into it. It, er… She… needs to draw attention."
"Ok, so you want her to be loud. Should I do something different with the color? How did she do under fire? I didn't leave any weak spots did I? The girl fired off question after question as she inspected the armor, beaming pride and careful criticism.
Michael couldn't help but notice her attention hadn't left the armor once since she started, her eyes focused on the gunshots in the back panel.
"I'm talking to you now aren't I? The armor held up great, the bruises on my back are barely noticeable. As for color? Gimme something that people usually look to when they need help."
"Um… So, like a blue?" Finally, she looked back to him, her confused expression turning to one of concern.
"Umm. What? I mean like police colors, or like an ambulance. You know, someone you can ask for help if you're in trouble."
Recognition sparked on her face, and the beaming smile returned in full force. "Oh, ok! I think I get it now. Break down the system, man!"
Michael returned the smile with fangs showing. "There ya go. Just something along those lines. I'll let you go crazy with the design. You seem to be a lot more into this than I am. Just… Try to open a window or something, I can't feel so much as air conditioning here."
She didn't actually answer him. Instead, sweeping everything but the armor off the desk with a happy squeal. Michael had to sidestep to avoid the clutter of metal bits and debris flying at him. He wanted to protest, but she had already begun to work, muttering something about needing to grab some paint later.
While she went about her business, Michael took a tour of her shop. Various projects in different states of completion littered the floor. In the corner was a bed, greasemarks stained the sheets and her pillow looked as if it used to be some kind of white. "Hey, do you have a damn washing machine around here or somethin?" He hollered, looking at the mess of a bed.
He again didn't get an answer from the girl, too absorbed in her work. Deciding to look around a bit more, he eventually found a small kitchenette, an old beat up washer and dryer sitting next to a stained sink. "I'm gonna wash your damn sheets!" He hollered, making his way to her bed.
With the bedsheets in hand, he tossed the load in the wash, giving the machine a smack when it didn't start up immediately. A look at the equally dirty dryer revealed a piece of paper, a pale white crystal acting as a paperweight to hold it down. Taking a look at it read, 'Remember to take these out before stuffing another load in. -Love, A.M.'
"Aight. I'm headed out now, have fun with that suit." He began to leave before stopping and cracking a few windows open. With some sort of airflow going on, he left the shop.
"Fuck. I need a damn coffee." He mumbled to himself before walking to the nearest coffee shop. The walk was over fairly quick, only two blocks further away from Mei's shop. A glance at his phone told him he'd only been in the shop for a little under an hour, plenty of time for a coffee. Stepping inside the cafe, he saw only one other customer in the back and in his favorite spot. The cashier took his order, a venti cappuccino and he took a seat in the booth next to the other customer.
He had red skin and pale white crystalline formations highlighting his delicate, boyish features. Two crystal horns jutted forth from his head, giving him a demonic appearance. Apparently Mike was getting sloppy in his sleep deprived state, the man catching him staring, black straw happily sucking down his chocolate abomination of a coffee.
"Sup."
Taking a second to realize he was speaking to him, Michael answered. "Mornin."
"So. Come here often?"
Amused at the line being dropped so casually, Michael shook his head with a smile. "You could say that."
"Well. Figured with how you look like you haven't slept in a day or two, you could use a laugh."
"I appreciate it. I'm Michael."
"Ahriman, but please call me Ahri."
"Well, it's nice to meet you, Ahri. What's got you out and about this damn early?"
"Oh, you know. Just got done with a job and I'm headed back to check on my girl."
"Oh, cool. So what do you do?
"I'm a debt collector of sorts."
"Of sorts?"
"Yeah. Someone owes something and I go and get it. Simple enough."
Michael sipped his drink as he studied the effeminate face of the man, no obvious tells were present, so he continued.
"So what do you collect?"
"What's owed."
"Fair enough. Just don't expect me to answer if you ever find yourself at my door." Michael joked, his prodding disguised as a harmless joke.
"Well, what do you do?" Ahri said, his mismatched eyes mirroring Michael's own.
"Just training up for the hero gig."
"You normally look this dead as a hero?"
"Not usually, just a long night and had some stuff to get done early today. Coffee helps."
"Coffee does help. I can't exactly judge either, I'm usually sharp as a razor or about to go comatose."
"I mean actual coffee… Not that cup of death by chocolate." Michael said as he eyed Ahri's drink.
"Would you like a sip?"
"Respectfully, fuck no."
"Aww. You're no fun."
"We literally just met."
"Well you're the one who sat by me."
"Well I also… Hold up." Michael stopped, feeling his phone vibrate in his pocket. Taking a moment to read the message, he looked back up to Ahri. "Hey man, I gotta bounce here soon, one of my classmates needs lessons in how to beat somebody's ass."
"Oh, no worries. I should probably get on to my girl's place soon too, she's probably worked herself into a frenzy by now."
"Well, I've got enough coffee left for about two more questions."
Ahri sipped his death by chocolate thoughtfully, taking a moment to savor the flavor. "What kind of hero are you trying to be?"
"One that does what's necessary."
"Ooooh. How grim. Sounds fun. Well now in that case, I've got a real question for you."
Finishing his drink, Michael smirked. "Shoot."
"What do you do when what's right and what the law says don't agree?" Ahri tucked a white dread behind a pointed ear, an expectant look leveled at Michael.
"You find a way, consequences be damned."
A small smile flashed across Ahri's face, the last of his drink having been finished as Michael answered him. "I suppose it's time for us to leave then. Maybe we'll run into each other again sometime. Take care, Michael." He said, taking his leave with a lazy sway in his hips and a flick of his tail.
Throwing his trash away, Michael headed out the store as well. The park was only half a mile away and he imagined that Shinso would take his time getting there. This walk went by much faster, the coffee having livened him up a little. It was only a matter of minutes before he found a bench that was wide enough for him to soak up the sun. Michael played on his phone as he waited, reading a book about four different realms coming together. He'd just gotten to the chapter with the cultists when he heard a familiar voice call his name. "Hey, Michael."
"Morning, Shinso. Can't say I really expected you to answer."
"Well, I thought about it a little more and what Midnight said was right. You didn't have much of a choice in the matter did you?"
"Not really. I appreciate you not hating me for that shit."
"No dude, I wouldn't hate you even if it was something you could help. I certainly wouldn't agree with it, and I may not speak to you for a bit but that's just so I could process it."
"Damn, your making it real fuckin hard to wanna punch you, ya know that?"
"I find it helps to keep my complexion intact."
"Well come on then pretty boy. Let's get a warmup in and then I can rock your world."
"That's what she said."
"Shut the fuck up, Shinso." Michael laughed as he loosened up.
A few minutes of stretching later, Michael began instructing. "Alright, show me what you got. Do whatever you know, just try to hit me without using your quirk."
Michael's mind seemed to process everything much faster as he saw Shinso take a stance. It was sloppy, unbalanced and wouldn't allow for any real power to be generated. The fist headed his way wasn't formed correctly, the blow was telegraphed and left the brainwasher wide open.
Michael decided to fix all of these mistakes by weaving under the blow and sending a leg slamming into Shinso's ribs. The kick was fairly relaxed in Michael's eyes, not enough to send a person with a solid footing to the air, something the brainwasher didn't have yet. When Shinso finally pulled himself off the ground, he looked at his friend in a different light. "I think you broke a rib."
"So long as I didn't break your spirit, then you're fine."
Going over all the flaws in Shino's form, they reset and continued. The process continued well into the afternoon. Shinso slowly began to hold onto the new tips and techniques Michael beat into him. His every mistake was punished with an iron fist or impossibly hard shin.
Catching a mistake before Michael could strike, Shinso ducked under the kick that came soon after. The kick would've put him on the ground again judging by the air he felt following after the leg. It was only a split second, but Shinso took the opportunity and launched upwards with his fist raised. For once, Michael didn't see it coming, but felt it. The fist slammed into his jaw, forcing his teeth to clack together and his feet to lift just off the ground from the blow.
"OW! You bitch! I think I bit my fuckin tongue." Michael said as he held a hand to his mouth.
"Oh shit dude. You okay?"
"Fuck… I havent been hit like that in a minute. Good fucking job dude. You keep this up and the festival will be a breeze for ya… Until someone hits you with a quirk that is."
"Well what am I supposed to do then?"
"Get out of the way or hit them first, I guess. Failing that, hope you can take whatever they dish out man." Michael said, rubbing his jaw.
"Alright then… Thank you for the help, Michael."
"Yeah, don't mention it. I needed a bit of a workout myself, so it was pretty nice having a new punching bag."
Shinso opted to remain quiet, a deadpan stare and middle finger being directed at the serpent.
Michael laughed, returning the middle finger as he began to walk off. "I'll see you in class. Take it easy dude."
Michael began making his way back to Mei's shop, the distance not too far off but enough to stretch his legs after his workout. The early autumn wind was chilly and made him curse quietly as it blew over him. The coldness of the incoming night only added to his problem as he'd forgotten to wear his jacket earlier. Drowsiness was beginning to overtake him much faster than normal, the already sleep deprived man being forced to break into a run to keep himself up.
After a few minutes of running into the cold whips of the wind, Michael reached the shop. Opting to just walk in to escape the cold, He had only made it a few steps inside when he noticed two familiar voices. Walking in the rest of the way, Michael peeked around the corner to see Mei sitting on her bed, free of the grease and dust, tinkering with some device. Behind her sat Ahri, the crystalline demon messing with her dreadlocks. He held a tiny metal hook, using it to tighten up the loose hair. They both sat in relaxation, with easy smiles.
Michael took a moment to observe them before stepping out. "What the fuck are you doing here, Ahri?"
Ahri jumped a little at the interruption. "Michael? What the fuck are you doing here?"
"I asked first."
"I'm tightening Mei's dreads, what's it look like?"
"I've never had dreads so I don't fucking know. As for what I'm doing… Just grabbing some stuff for work."
"Work huh? I'm guessing that fucking juggernaut suit is yours then?"
Michael paused, weighing his options on how to respond. "Yeah… It needed to look the part, after all."
"So the words, 'Fuck the police' were your idea of looking the part of a hero?"
Ahri smiled at Michael in a playful challenge while silence filled the room. Mei remained oblivious to the atmosphere, tinkering away and humming. The snake stared down the demon, until what was said caught up to him. "I'm sorry, what did you say was on the suit?"
"Fuck. The. Police…. In bright white lettering. Hell of a statement for a hero."
"Take the power back!" Mei happily chimed in, only somewhat paying attention to the two.
Chewing his tongue for a moment, Michael thought to himself how to best handle this. "Call it a metaphorical wake up call? Can I see my suit now?"
Ahri went back to work and Mei excitedly pointed to one of her work benches, eyes still glued on her current project. "Paint should be dry by now."
Stepping over, Michael removed a grease stained sheet off it and looked over his suit. Black and navy blue fabric mixed in with somewhat official insignias, each slightly altered to depict a negative perception of what it represented, such as the words 'Protect and Serve' altered to say 'Punish and Enslave'. Small speakers lined his ballistic gorget, the already heavily protected suit even bore a few extra armor panels. Flipping it over, he saw what Ahri had been talking about. Clear white lettering revealed the same words spoken in a graffiti styling. The paint even streaked down from the lettering in some spots. He had to give it to her, Mei did some damn good work,
"Hey Mikey, bring her on over here so I can show you what she's capable of now!" Mei called, her attention now fully on him.
Hefting the suit up, he carried it over to her, the weight being oddly lighter than he remembered. He'd barely even set it down when Mei began rattling off her changes and improvements.
"This girl can't be stopped, now! I replaced the steel plates and fixed up the fabric, so you're still capable of taking a few hits from anything the police are carrying. Your speakers are currently set to 110 decibels, but can be temporarily set to 150 if you really wanna draw attention to her beauty. The lights and siren can be controlled by a wrist mounted button which automatically activates an audio dampener in your helmet. Plus, I'm willing to bet that All Might himself could hit you a time or two before my baby fails! Go ahead, try and tell me my babies aren't the cutest out there!"
Ahri raised an eyebrow at Michael, a cocky grin on his face. "So… Why would a hero need to worry about police firearms?"
"Why do you care so much, debt collector?" Michael wanted to like Ahri, but he was making it harder to with every word.
"I don't." Ahri put up his hands in a 'calm down' gesture, and dropped the smile. "I'm just curious is all."
"Well, probably best to stay that way, then."
Ahri only chuckled, ceasing his prodding at Michael as he packed away his suit. "Thanks, Mei. I'll put her to good use."
Mei playfully swatted his head, a finger pointing up at him in fake anger. "You'd better treat this little lady with the respect she deserves! Do her right and she'll keep you alive. Should she give you any lip, then bring her back here and momma will give her a stern talking to."
Ahri didn't miss a beat to respond, "I could use a stern talking to from momma."
"Be a good boy and I might have something to say."
"Well… that's my cue to leave. Y'all enjoy your night." Michael said, grabbing the case and heading back into the cold darkness waiting outside.
Michael was halfway home when he heard a familiar giggle that made him slightly uncomfortable. The cold biting through wasn't helping his mood from souring at being stopped again as he turned around. Just behind the dim illumination of an overhead streetlight was the unmistakable golden glint of Toga's eyes.
"Hey, Mikey." Her words were sharp, her eyes flickered over him, and she stood rigidly, as if waiting to pounce him. Her body twitched randomly, her breaths changing erratically from short bursts to long drawn out exhales. "Whatcha doin?"
"Um… Goin home. What are you doing, Toga?"
"Oh. Just out and about and figured I'd stop by and say hi."
"Right? You know, I lost track of you after the whole shootout thing. You kinda just disappeared after goin a little…"
"A little what, Mikey?" Toga stepped into the light to reveal a manic gleam in her eyes. Her clothes were drenched in blood.
"A little too engaged in the fight. That's all." Michael did his best to keep his words measured in a bid to keep from setting the girl off.
She seemed to ponder his words for a moment, nodding her head before she walked over and grabbed his hand. "Well then, let's get to your place and we can catch up."
"Okay, but how bout we stop by the gas station first and get a snack or two? You don't look as if you've gotten a damn thing to eat in a minute."
"I'm not really hungry, but I can think of something I'd like to snack on."
His gut was screaming to get away, but he brushed it aside, not that he could do much else. Her hand gripped his like a vice; it was soft, but calloused and deceptively strong. "Well, I need some coffee grounds anyways, so let's stop by and just grab some and we'll head on back okay?"
"Okay, Mikey." Her answer was too fast, her voice almost cutting out as she looked up at him, her gaze locked on his before darting back to the dark road ahead.
The walk to the gas station was almost completely silent, the only sounds being the crunch of their soles on asphalt and the eerie melody Toga hummed to herself. It sounded like a half forgotten lullaby, her notes repeating themselves before she paused every few seconds, as if unsure of what part came next. Michael had to hold in his sigh of relief when the comforting neon green sign of Plot . Station came into view, a brief respite from his situation.
For now, this was his only chance to possibly get away, a chance he knew better than to take. Walking inside, he pretended to browse the selection of the same two flavors of grounds that were always there, a giant rack of Funyuns waiting beside it. He went to reach for it until he was reminded that his hand was in Toga's possession, the other carrying his suitcase. "Toga? Can you grab that can for me?"
She didn't answer, only snatched the can of grounds with her free hand before dragging Michael out of the store. Michael decided following her was his only real option, the other would most likely invite her anger.
The forced march back to his house went quickly, Toga's breathing becoming more and more frantic as he hurriedly undid the locks and let her in. He had only just shut the door behind him before Toga's knife was at his back. He froze, careful to avoid provoking her further as the knife slid up, slicing fabric aside and running over his skin ever so faintly. The blade's edge bit into him every few inches, the white cotton stained red as it was torn away, leaving his skin exposed to her. Her blade traced his muscles and past scars, eventually working its way up to the front of his neck. Michael's body held firm as it pressed down a little harder, a faint trail of blood beginning to weep from under the blade's edge. It had stayed only for a moment, before more tearing sounds erupted from behind him. He took the chance to turn around, being met with a nude and bloodied Toga. Fresh cuts marked her body, her hands covered in the scarlet fluid as the last of her clothes joined the shredded remains on the floor.
He was trapped in his mixed emotions, and for once in years, he hesitated. The blonde's hand had already wrapped behind his head by the time he came back to his senses, her mouth on his cut neck as her tongue greedily licked at the bleeding wound. The girl's free hand undid his pants and groped at him from under his compression shorts.
Michael locked himself in his mind as he struggled to find some escape from this situation, offering no resistance when her teeth bit down on his neck and pulled him to the floor. Sprawling on top of him, the last of his clothes were torn free as she seated herself on him. The next few minutes passed by in a blur of red and gold as Toga took him as she pleased, the smell of blood, sweat and sex filling the room as darkness took Michael.