Chapter 30: Midoriya Izuku XXVII

A/N: Back to Stain this time around. Plus a talk with another prospective member of the League. Hope you all enjoy!

Jaku General Hospital is widely known for its contributions to nursing homes and orphanages alike, spreading out resources to those of less fortunate status while maintaining a strict policy of patient care.

Garaki Kyudai is the man responsible for running the facility and its operation, a responsibility that has garnered him immense renown and prestige for all that he has done for the community at large.

However, in truth, what most individuals know of the man is merely a facade. The philanthropist act is of course, just a cover. The man everyone knows as Garaki Kyudai, Izuku simply refers to as the Doctor.

For Garaki, the bare truth is that nearly all of his pursuits in his public persona are in some way shape or form connected to furthering his agenda — that is, his life's work of researching quirks and in turn creating the artificial lifeforms known as nomus.

Garaki's secret life has remained covert for years, and nobody out of the loop is even close to figuring out the truth. This is what has allowed him to work on the creation of his lab, a sprawling complex hidden right under Jaku General Hospital.

So massive and intricate is the facility that it should have been near impossible to build it without anybody noticing. However, with Garaki's status, combined with a star-struck and loyal staff, it was but a mere cakewalk.

The sheer complexity of the laboratory still intrigues Izuku to this day, every time he walks within its walls. And today is no different. As it turns out, the lab has rooms set up for a large myriad of purposes — patient holding cells included.

So when Izuku walks out of Kurogiri's portal, he blocks out all the foreground noise — doctors and nurses working up above, patients moaning in agony, nearby cars passing by, the sounds of roaring nomus and the Doctor working on his latest project — and focuses on what's important.

It was a fairly simple matter, convincing the Doctor to allow the use of one of his rooms and for resources to be diverted to the healing of a wayward guest.

The room is rather stark; muted in coloration with dark metallic walls and no decorations to speak of. It's an environment largely different from the cityscape of Hosu, but not entirely dissimilar from a holding cell.

As such, Izuku doesn't entirely blame Stain for his current reaction to waking up disoriented in unfamiliar surroundings. But that doesn't mean that he'll allow it, either.

"That makeshift shiv that you repurposed from your bed frame isn't going to do much for you here, just so you know."

Of course, Izuku hadn't actually seen the weapon in question. But with how close he's standing to Stain, and the subtle distortion in the air made by the weapon as it sticks out from Stain's pants, its existence was fairly simple to deduce.

Stain lets out a huff in response, narrowing his eyes at his visitor but otherwise making no movements to rise from his seated position on the bed.

"It has to have been at most five minutes since you woke up, and already you've appropriated yourself a weapon. Impressive," Izuku praises.

"So what? Am I a prisoner now?" Stain asks, crossing his arms together.

Izuku sees the gesture as a sign of resignation. By crossing his arms, Stain is placing himself in a position where he can not readily grab for the weapon sitting on his waistband. It shows that Stain is willing to listen — or at least wait for an opportune moment — for now. And Izuku's ready to exploit that; so he'll play in kind.

"No, not a prisoner," Izuku answers, moving to lean against the far wall as he does so. "On the contrary, actually. AsI'm sure you've already figured out based on all the medical equipment, you're being treated for the injuries you sustained over in Hosu."

Stain hums. "Just being treated? Nothing else?"

"Hmph. Well, I suppose that treating you down here does have the added bonus of placing you in a position where you have to listen to me. So there's that." Izuku shrugs.

"Of course."

"And before you ask," Izuku continues, "I do promise that you'll be released once you're feeling like your old self and are able to run and jump with ease."

"I'm actually feeling that way right about now," Stain retorts. "In fact, I'm pretty sure that I could wrap my hand around your neck before you could react."

"I highly doubt that," Izuku says rather calmly. "Though, you should know that you're currently stashed away within one of the most secure safehouses owned by the League, and that aside from myself and Kurogiri, the only other two who know that you're here aren't individuals you want to be messing with. Just a word of advice."

Stain takes a breath. Then, without warning, he zooms into action. One moment his arms are crossed, and in another his hand is reaching for the shiv on his waistband. And then, in one swift motion, he throws it.

Izuku, however, isn't taken by surprise. There exists plenty of time between Stain's initial movements and the throwing of the makeshift knife, and in that time there is plenty for Izuku to digest.

Stain's heartbeat remains at a steady normal, and his actions are nowhere near as fast as Izuku had seen him in the alley back in Hosu City. Nevermind his calculating — not aggressive — expression, or perhaps the most incriminating, the trajectory of the knife itself as it flies through the air.

The knife imbeds itself in the wall right next to Izuku's head. And Izuku doesn't move an inch.

"Keh." Stain then leans back in his bed, moving into a lying position. "If I am to be bound to you," he begins as he stares up at the ceiling, "I need to know you inside and out. Everything that led up the creation of Whisper, from experiences to ideology, to the suffering and anguish. Only then will I consider this partnership that you propose, for I will not allow myself to work alongside some directionless buffoon."

Izuku breaks out a smirk from behind his mask. "I hope that you don't expect me to pour my heart out regarding every little facet of my life. I don't quite think our relationship has progressed that far yet."

"Then say what you feel comfortable with," Stain grunts. "But I hope you don't expect to convince me with a bare bones story and some honeyed words."

"Oh, don't worry. I have plenty to share, and plenty of time on our hands as well. It's not like we're needed anywhere, after all."

Izuku told the man a lot. Howhis father had been killed by a hero (the identity of said hero was, of course, left out), how his mother had neglected to partake in a large portion of his childhood, how his peers grew to ridicule and belittle him all for his quirk, and all of the injustices that he came to witness. Years of torment and shattered dreams, followed by a crushed resolve that eventually was rebuilt, stronger and yet widely different from before.

He kept out his encounter with All Might, and his petty revenge in the form of genuine friendship with Todoroki. He could tell that Stain noticed the holes in the story, but the man didn't comment upon them.

And eventually, Izuku's life story came to an end.

"Well?" Izuku asks.

"Hmm…" Stain shifts his eyes from the ceiling to Izuku. "I noticed that you left out any possible identifying details."

Izuku nods. "Of course. I may have left my old life behind, but that doesn't mean that there aren't still people from my past that I care about. Wouldn't do to have you know about them when we don't trust each other yet."

"Fair. Smart too." Stain rises from the bed and returns to his previous seated position. His eyes are latched on tightly to Izuku. "However, I can't help but notice that everything you've divulged so far have consisted of just the events of your life. You have yet to share with me your ideals, what makes you tick — what you believe in. What would deem you worthy of working alongside me."

"There's a lot to to through—"

"Then summarize." Stain interrupts. "Give me a brief overview of the highlights. I'm sure that you can do that, can't you?"

"Hmm. Well, if you're really interested…" Izuku taps a finger against his side. "One of the very first things that really intrigued me when I was young were heroes and their personas. Flashy colors, ostentatious super moves, memorable catch phrases… Every little kid was caught up in the phenomenon; heroes just have that sort of effect, you know?"

Izuku shakes his head. "Of course, when you get down to the nitty gritty, the truth is that heroes often incorporate a theme or style into their costumes, oftentimes in reference to their quirk. Sounds innocent, right? Well… Thing is that there is a difference from those that society views as villains."

"People like you and I? Izuku muses. "We don't need that recognizability; in fact, we most likely wish to avoid it. We can go for the most obscure or nonsensical of names and designs, as long as they're practical. And nobody bats an eye. But when 'heroes' do the same? Their credibility comes into question."

"Where is this goi—"

"Marketability," Izuku interrupts Stain mid sentence. "Plenty of heroes are all about flashiness and glamour, because that's what brings in the ratings, the income. They stick to the big cities where the populace see their heroics every day, and they build up a persona that the public comes to trust unwaveringly."

"All the while, impoverished areas — where fame is harder to attract — are ignored. Such places are where people like you and I thrive, where low-life crooks and aspiring vigilantes begin their stories, all due to inaction and neglect from the heroes.

"But nobody brings that up," Izuku scoffs. "It's all overtaken by a world centered around heroes. Through public spectacles like the Yuuei Sports Festival, from basic daily media coverage to merchandise sales, heroes grow to become role models for the everyman. In turn, it's not a surprise that children become indoctrinated at a young age to aspire to be heroes themselves. It becomes ingrained into their blood, their wants and desires being filled with dreams of heroism from the day they learn of their quirk."

"Nobody seems to care, in fact it's invited. Yet let alone does anyone look to the ones responsible in the first place. The HPSC privately funds hero agencies to form a state-authorized security force; and heck, even has child soldiers that they can order around in the form of hero schools such as Yuuei or Shiketsu."

"It's obvious why. The Quirk Riots and the pseudo-wars that have resulted from them very nearly destroyed society all those years ago. It makes sense that the government wants some semblance of control — but for them to reduce themselves to widespread corruption, secret police techniques, and propaganda that rots the mind of each generation's children?"

Nevermind how that same propaganda is used for the opposite end of the spectrum. I mean, there is something wrong when a petty thief who steals to feed themselves is branded with the same title — that of a villian, a word that brings scorn and distrust the moment its applied — as guiltless mass murderer? Is it not unfair, degrading? A way to get rid of anyone that breaks the status quo, no matter how small their crime?"

"So you can see it, right?" Izuku finally asks. "How a childhood wonder of heroes has morphed into contempt over the truth? How heroes aren't as they seem, with most out for the renown or money rather than the saving aspect of the role? How every little facet has some sort of influence from the HPSC or the slimy backstage politics of heroism?"

"You done?" Stain asks after a few moments of silence.

"Don't blame me if it was a bit long winded. You're the one who asked."

Stain lets out a gruff chuckle, one less amused and one that's more… sinister. "I will admit, all of that right there was a nice breakdown of how things really work in this twisted world. And that understanding is the first, most crucial step. One that most don't consider, seeing how the main thoughts that plague the mind when one delves into this underbelly are either those of revenge or anger. Not often is one focused on the deeper meaning, of how things led them to where they are. They simply wish to lash out. And only maybe, just maybe, do they later build up that resolve, that finely crafted and shaped goal that truly separates them from the fodder."

Stain stands up, eyes gazing around the room until they land back on the costumed Izuku. "You know me, my identity even. You still wish to conceal yours?"

Izuku nods. "For the time being, yes."

Stain nods in acceptance. "Then I am feeling refreshed and healed, and wish to head out. Where is my gear?"

As if summoned, one of Kurogiri's portals opens up beside Stain. He doesn't question it, and merely puts his hand through to retrieve his supplies.

Stain is a bit perplexed, however, when he feels and pulls through a small packet of papers."

"I'll start you off with two," Izuku says. "Death Arms in Tokyo and The Fly back in Hosu. That packet is filled with all you need to know."

Stain narrows his eyes. "I never said that I agreed to your little partnership."

"No," Izuku says with mirth, "but you expressed it through your words, even if you aren't sure you did yourself. You're fine with working with me, at least until a moment I do something you disagree with. It's the others that you have a problem with."

"What makes up your organization is a subdued chauffeur and a child with no will or true desire, just uncontrollable rage aimed at everything in the world. I despise one, the other I can tolerate. Of course you are the only suitable candidate."

Izuku nods. "In that case I don't quite believe you'll be any more impressed by our new recruits. I'll save you the time and let you form your own impression once they hit the news."

"Smart choice," Stain says. "Now then, my leave?"

"Where to?"

"Hosu City, it seems. I now have some unfinished business there after all."

The portals open in the middle of the room. Stain makes a step towards it without another word, though before he can go through Izuku interjects with one last thing.

"That video of you has gone viral, you know?"

Stain stops, midstep. "What video?"

"Your speech back in Hosu, right before you lost consciousness. "It was recorded by a bystander," Izuku explains.

Stain peers around the rift to look at Izuku. "Was it now?"

Izuku nods. "And bow a whole lot of people are looking in the right way due to your no, I see your face and hear your response. It wasn't me who filmed it, as seen in the video. And I didn't set anything up either. It was complete, pure happenstance. But not one that I put any effort to be stopped once set into motion. That much I admit."

Stain lets out a huff. "Then I'll be going."

He steps through, and with that, he's gone.

"Went much better than I expected," Izuku muses. He tilts his head to the side. "How long again until that meeting I set up?"

"Two days until then, Izuku," Kurorgiri's voice provides through another portal.

"Ah. Splendid. Better prepare then, I guess."

Today's the date that Izuku had planned for all of the prospective new recruits to meet up in order to finalize their place in the League. He's currently standing within a warehouse, waiting for everyone to arrive.

He had thought that coming early would have been a good idea. Turns out, the situation didn't play out as he had thought it would in his mind. Because while a majority of the new members needed to travel to the agreed upon address, there were two that didn't have to, seeing as they had been stashed away to the location days ago

And for the past ten minutes, Izuku has had to maintain the most restraint he has held in his entire life.

His childhood was different. Petty name calling turned into verbal abuse, which turned into light pushes to pranks, and finally to assault. But he could see the signs, see where they were pointing to as time went on. The abuse on his person became the norm, and ignoring it had become second nature.

But jumping the guy across from him with the intent of incapacitation? Or if need be to slice than man's throat? He was having trouble preventing himself from acting. Even if he would be doing the world a favor by doing so.

After all, there's a reason the man known as Moonfish is an individual who's scheduled for the death penalty. Too many successful escapes and too many lost souls — hundreds of them, going so far as to near the thousand mark — all to one man.

Nevermind the monster's habit of loud mouth breathing, his consistent muttering, or the fact that he willingly keeps himself restrained within his prisoner strait jacket. Izuku likens him to a deranged predator out for his next meal, with Izuku as his next catch.

And that isn't even a figure of speech. Izuku knows that the man's razor-lined mouth has been filled with — and relishes in — the taste of human flesh. Even now, he's muttering about organs and skin under his breath

Whoever it was that had taken up the mantle of Moonfish is long gone, and now all that remains is a creature with animalistic instincts and urges.

Again, Izuku finds himself cursing Tomura for forcing him to have to work with someone like Moonfish. And that's without mentioning the other half of Tomura's additions to the team.

Imasuji Goto, otherwise known by the moniker of Muscular, doesn't stray far behind, but at least he still has his sanity to a degree — though whether that's good or bad Izuku's still debating on.

Muscular lives for the thrill of the hunt, whether that be him hunting civilians or the heroes hunting him. He has no care for collateral or for the lives lost on his rampages; as long as he's amused by the end of the day he'll destroy whoever or whatever is in his way.

They're on a whole different level than either Magne, Dabi, or Toga. Izuku can at least justify those three's outlooks and actions on their pasts and the way society has turned against them. But Moonfish and Muscular? They aren't of the same branch at all. They chose their paths for the heck of it. And that's something Izuku can't live with.

Just seeing them now, Izuku knows that they won't be reliable teammates. They won't listen to orders when it will matter, and there stands the risk that they'll go off on their own whenever it personally suits them best.

If he could, he'd give them up to Sensei to have their quirks taken from them, or if the need arises he'd gift them to the Doctor. But he can't. Not with Tomura's stubborn ass being responsible with most things.

Though, there's nothing saying that an accident on the field won't stand as a valid reason for them to no longer be on the team.

"I may not be able to see your face, but I can tell that you're staring at us," Muscular grunts out. His one good eye bears down onto Izuku with an amused expression, one that's aching for a challenge.

"Go out and say what you're thinking," the man continues. "Promise I won't judge." He jabs his thumb in Moonfish's direction. "You'll be able to provide much more stimulating conversation topics than this bozo, that's for sure."

Izuku hums in response. From what he knows of the man, Muscular lives and breathes by his sadistic personality. And yet, he does have a sense of reason, in his own twisted sort of way. He believes that delivering on one's promises is one of the most important driving forces in life. He values peoples' words, and whether they're able to prove that they are able to do what they say they can.

Oftentimes, this plays into the fights he has with heroes. He scorns most — finds them liars when they can't bring him down despite their protests that they will. This is a little different from the Water Hose duo, whom he does hold respect for. Even if that was only because they were able to permanently scar him by taking away his left eye.

But Izuku can't really do that; he can't hold a candle to a physical fight with the man. All he can do is talk and hope Muscular hears him out.

"I find you a liability," Izuku finally says. "You and he both," Izuku says, gesturing towards Muscular and Moonfish.

"Oh?" Muscular grins, crossing his arms together. "I won't refute that. It's true that I'm only here for the fights you'll provide. I would've killed to be a part of your guys' attack on Yuuei; I wouldn't be able to plan something like that by myself."

If Izuku's not mistaken, he can see subtle movements on the man's arms — no doubt blatant use of his quirk, and an intimidation tactic.

It won't work on Izuku, however. He's stood before Sensei multiple times, after all.

"As I thought. If I was in charge you two would still be in chains and on your way to wherever the cops want you. Not here standing with me, ready to meet actual deserving additions to the team."

"Too bad you aren't the boss then!" Muscular guffaws.

"Yet."

Muscular stops, and raises an eyebrow. "What was that?"

"I'm not in charge. Yet."

"Oho? Is that so, little man? And what exactly are you planning on doing to fix that little problem of yours?"

"My plans aren't for sharing, especially not for the likes of you."

"That so?" Muscular laughs. "You have some nerve, talking to me like that. You are aware that I can squish you like a grape? Like an ant under my boot?"

Izuku stands firm. "You can certainly try. But I won't be going out without a fight, and especially not before hurting you. Badly."

"Wanna test those words of yours?"

"In the future," Izuku says. "Because if things will play out the way I want them to, we'll be meeting on opposite sides of the battlefield before long."

"Big and confident words for someone who relies on his quirk to fight."

Izuku huffs. "Don't you do the same?"

"No no no no no. I use my fists. You scare people into letting their guard down. It's quite pathetic, really."

"Doesn't change the fact that I excel at what I do. Not everyone is gifted with the physical boons that you have, after all."

"Heh. You've gained my attention, boy. You better hold up to those words of yours, or I'll come and find you myself. I'll give you a year, how's that sound? Think of it as repercussion for challenging me today, yeh?"

Izuku nods. "I look forward to it."

"Now that's what I like to hear! No pulling back, no last minute excuses! Just charging head first into the fray!"

Izuku nods once more. "I—"

"HELLO!?" a familiar voice calls out. "Are you in here, Whispy?! I have the others with me! You didn't tell me that you hired a magician! I haven't seen one since I was five! And Twice is really nice! I can't believe I haven't met him sooner!"

Izuku lets out a sigh. He heard them coming, of course. But it's one thing to know that an elite team of criminals are on their way, and another to actually encounter them and get reminded how much of a mess of problematic misfits they are.

But he's happy that his stare off with Muscular has been interrupted, at least. Now he just needs to figure out how to manage a group full of psychos, killers, and the mentally scarred.

I have my work cut out for me, don't I?

A/N: And that's that! The plan of getting the team together seems to be going well, hmm? Next time, we'll have another perspective shuffle! Till then!