Chapter Text
Arc 3 - P2 : On Your Mark! Get Ready! Kill! - Begin
Chapter 19: From The Piece’s Perspective
Take a breath…
In and out.
Just like my social worker says.
Take a breath…
In and out.
In. and out.
In… and.. out…
What a load of shit.
~ Arc 3 - P2: OYM! GR! K! -- Ch 19: FTPP ~
His steps were light for all his “large” demeanor, walking along the path to his classroom on lanky legs - thin, long, and fluid with his movements. The strides were made holding incredible confidence and colorless indifference as he slipped through all the crowds, no care for the blindingly long white halls, the heavily packed spaces, and in all, just of the world around himself. His arms didn’t swing, instead they sat lazily in the clothed confines of his uniform pockets, bent slightly with the degree his wide shoulders hunched forward in the facade of uncaring. A scowl was etched near permanently onto his pale face, pulling the skin down around thin cheeks; his gaze straight ahead, burning holes into whatever or whoever stood before himself, while lavender eyes came accompanied by the darkness of many sleepless nights shrouding the under eye.
The boy continued on, keeping to his path despite the environment around him. As if it mattered though, with the pure energy of hate sprouting out of him. Just like when Moses single-handedly called upon his god to split the sea before him and his people, the students flowed like waves to the sides, opening a passage for him. Though, it seemed no one really realized they were stepping to the side, for as soon as they did, they all just stepped right back. While similar in comparison, it was nothing as dramatic as the telling of that religious tale.
But maybe that wasn’t all - energy that surrounded him. Perhaps it was his looks - like a lavender version of death. Hair wild and flowing, eyes pale in comparison to many others, almost as if he’d died and came back. The way his body seemed near skin and bone, face thin and pale. Dark blotches pressed the skin underneath the eyes, and his height was above most other’s despite the age he was.
Or maybe it was just the look he held onto his face - the way he feigned his distaste and annoyance across the only bits of see-able skin. The way he mastered it to a T, granted how would others know if such an expression was false if he was so good at it?
Because in the end, they moved for no other reason than how he held himself. People move for those who show anger and confidence in what they’re doing. And right now, in this reality, this boy painted the perfect picture of such things, but in truth? He was anything but.
Shinsou Hitoshi.
The walking embodiment of a criminal.
The first place for future villain.
The class-c lister who couldn’t do any better than that.
Too weak to be in the hero course. Too dumb to be in support. Too short tempered and unappealing to be in business.
He was general at best.
(This boy, just like someone so similar, was the entirety of a lie itself. Running, hiding, and protecting everything he could for himself just like the monster that roamed these very same halls. This boy, the same yet different, had lived his life in near the exact way as Midoriya had - had faced the beatings, the torture, the haunting realities that was the world. Yet… But yet, there was still. Just. One. Difference. Where one had lost all support and finally given up on the world, the other had yet to give up no matter what he did, no matter how criminalized he became…)
Hitoshi was hiding.
The average person would never really notice, but this ruthless boy was hiding, not just himself, but a trick up his sleeve. His body was trained - harsh in the ways of defense, growing used to the pain that came with blows and his mind was sharp, honed under the pressure of uneven battles and with the knowledge that he was never quite strong enough to beat his enemies. So Hitoshi stayed leant forward because of how easy it became to duck and evade and move smoothly. He scowled harshly to show off his fangs, to show off his bite and ward away unwanted attention. He continued to stroll with ease and fake confidence because it allowed him the peace of being unbothered.
He had his ace.
They played their game, so now I play mine.
These words were uttered back to himself morning, noon, and night, no matter what he’d gone through that day. Never once letting himself forget every single way the world had and continued to wrong him. And while he might not be able to play this game too fast like them, too impulsive like them, or even too straight forward like them; he was still going to push as much as he could without being detected. He would still switch around his cards, hide his few pieces, and fool as many of those horrible assholes as he could until the moment came where he could finally go all in. Could finally move his piece.
Hitoshi would pretend.
He’d pretend and pretend and pretend until he could finally rub it all into their faces. Grab the backs of their heads and slam their face down into his win until the color seeped into and stained their grimy skin, until their eyes watered under the knowledge of the loss and the debris spread about, until he could finally in the same room as them with the knowledge that everyone here was equals whether they liked it or not.
Shinsou Hitoshi would one day win. He would win, and nothing was going to stop him - even if he’d given up on the rest of truly accepting him.
Let them laugh at me. Let them stretch their mocking smiles across their faces. Let them beat me down - I already know no one is going to care, no one is going to stop them, no one is going to help. No one will… But that won’t stop me from trying to prove them all wrong.
~ Arc 3 - P2: OYM! GR! K! -- Ch 19: FTPP ~
It’s as Hitoshi’s walking down to his next class that it happens.
A four-way intersection of halls meeting.
Crowded.
Loud.
Invading.
The one area next to the cafeteria where the most students were found trying to get to their classes.
From this point in the whole school building, it wasn’t that unexpected or surprising that you just might happen to run into students from other circulars; kids older or younger in class than you, many taking multiple different courses or just in different departments altogether. It was a busy four-way, no-stopping, kind of hallway. Maybe you’ll bump a shoulder here, pass a stranger there, possibly even step over the papers that some young nervous klutz dropped all over the marbled floor.
Perhaps you’ll make friends (pfft, like that would ever happen) , or just talk to someone new. You might make a joke and hear someone laugh, or possibly help them up over a small little accident. You meet all types of people here in this hallway, granted, not all of them are good. No, because besides all the generous meetings between possible friends, another thing could happen - you could find a rival, an enemy, someone you distaste with a passion.
A simple accident could go haywire in a school full of superpowered kids, no matter what class they’d come from, no matter what they can do. Those with their egos shot through the roof of their heads like a rocket to space and just pouring out the bottom of their shoes like a dam about to break. One simple mocking joke could turn into an all out brawl between these kids. A single light disagreement about courses, positions in politics and the overall hero ranking system, about their strength or smarts, could lead to a catastrophe of things!
The walls of a classroom being cratered in and blown out, the magnificent glass windows shattered and smashed apart while the pieces fly every which way, leaving then, one of the students being escorted off to the hospital wing — all that… all that being of this intersectioned hallway that sanctioned the center of the school.
This wasn’t a joke either, the young lavender eyed boy had come to see plenty of these cases over his time. From the news channels, online forums, herotube videos, and even the students own social media platforms. And something even stranger was how the school itself reacted to these incidents and leaks of footage. While most would think that UA, in order to keep up with its near perfect record, would be quick to take these posts down, or cover up all the news airings - the thing is though, is that they usually don’t. Instead, they ride the wave of catastrophe full force; showing exactly what happened, explaining why it happened, having personal talkings with the families about the situation at hand, as well as how they planned to take care of said incident. The school would even go as far as to explain that if such situations were to happen again, punishments would be dished out in a much more serious, much more harsher way than the original offenders got.
Believe it or not, society ate the whole idea up. This way of teaching made UA skyrocket in more popularity than it had been originally - putting them at top of the charts for anti-bullying, anti-violence amongst students, and so much more. People seemed to think the school was going to really, truly hold every student accountable for the things they did, especially if it interfered with other students' possible futures. But even so, things still continued to get out of hand…
Thus, this very moment.
The intersection.
“HEY YOU FUCKING ASSHAT! TAKE THAT SHIT BACK RIGHT NOW OR I’M GONNA KICK YOUR GODDAMNED ASS YOU FUCKING GEN ED MUTANT FREAK!”
“OH SO I’M THE FREAK?! YOU’RE THE ONE WALKING AROUND LIKE YOU OWN THE PLACE YOU WORTHLESS PIECE OF SHIT! WHAT A HERO YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE GOING AROUND AND SHITTING ON ALL THE OTHER KIDS IN HERE! IN THE FIRST FUCKING WEEK NO LESS!”
“EEEHHH?!! WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU SAY– ! COME AT ME BITCH-”
A sigh.
He just wanted to get to class on time, but of course this happens right now.
Why can’t they just take it somewhere else for fuck’s sake already? Don’t they know the both of them are going to end up expelled at this rate? Hitoshi grit his teeth, rubbing long fingers through his fluffy, yet ragged hair. His face twisting into one of disgust and disdain as he felt something fly past his way from within the commotion in the middle of the hall. Really, they’re acting like stupid children… But… A flicker of his eyes, and two adult silhouettes could be seen rushing down through the halls, their voices raised in hopes of pausing the current actions. At least they’ll get taught a lesson; less people for me to try and push through to get where I need to be. Another swift pass around the hall as he scanned over the two students brawling near to death on the pristine marbled grounds. wrestling and fighting on the ground. Blood on their faces and fists; it showed almost ornately against the white of the floor; one of them was already missing a tooth by the looks of it as well.
One of them said something about the other being a hero student… Well, if that’s the case, then I doubt much will be done to that student. With a roll of his eyes, he turned to walk through the crowd, hoping beyond anything that he’ll make it to class with the little time he had left. Even with how strict the school is, I’ve seen how punishments have sometimes become lenient when a hero student is presented amongst the problems. UA, while considered the best of the best, was still as slimy and corrupted as the rest.
It’s only when he finally manages to make it around the unblocked corner and nearly out of the ever growing crowd that something catches his attention, halting his journey back to class.
Irritation. Toxic. Green.
It was only for a second, but Hitsohi could have sworn that it felt so much longer - the deep rooted vigor of aggravation radiating off the stranger in waves that felt thick and hard to breathe in, just standing at the edge of the crowd no more than 30 feet away.
Why…?
He halted and felt something flick and spark within himself, perhaps something coming alive. Something buried, submerged in whatever dark caverns that laid through his body– something that this boy had killed and hid away in the nothingness of his being after years of torture and pain. After constantly being recycled by family after family, passed from hand to hand like he was nothing more than a collectors toy for others to try out and see if they liked; after developing his bullshit quirk that supposedly came with a set of terms and conditions he had to align to, otherwise he’d possibly be dead – that came with a life plan he was just supposed to take rolling over with, no matter how he felt or stood or even understood the situation.
Who…?
He had no idea who this person was. Did… did no one else feel it?
He couldn’t help but question what was going on. He stared.
He stared and stared and stared until his already tired eyes burned from more than just lack of sleep, until the bodies of the students soon started to dissipate back into the world, and the people began to move once more throughout the entire area, the topic of the fight the only thing occupying all their minds now as their words echoed down the halls. But still he stood, and still he stared.
And then just like that–! The trance was broken. The place that had taken over Hitoshi’s mind was broken as the young green haired boy tilted his head the just ever the slightest bit over, and Hitoshi saw the shining of emerald eyes snap over to his body like they’d known he was there the whole time. How did he–?! Unlike when someone stares at him and he freezes, his body kicked back into place and his face fell back to a flat neutral expression. The boy only subtly turned his head just the barest of inches more to him, with an almost scared curiosity decorating the feature, those boring eyes seemingly scanning his body as a whole, snacking on the little bits of information he could get from the lanky teen.
With the trance over though, Hitoshi did nothing but raise an eyebrow to the boy, and watched in fascination as whoever this was flinched up in almost a mimic of a jump, and hurried off the class, shoulders tight and bookbag pulled high on his back.
But even as Hitoshi watched him go, he couldn't help the feeling that shivered throughout the whole of his body, making him wonder so, so many things.
What was that energy?
Why did it feel so familiar?
Why did he suddenly run off as if he was scared when we met eyes?
But then he thought of the bag. He thought back to the look of what could have possibly been genuine fear in his eyes, to the way he skuttered off like a frightened animal all alone on it’s own in some strange new land, and what happened to be a strong annoyance, an irritation that came from when he was viewing the fight. He thought of the way the boy scanned over his body like he’d himself do when strangers he wasn’t so sure of came near, and how the boy damn near seemed to disappear when he took those few steps back off down the hall and into the remaining crowd.
He thought.
He thought and thought and thought until finally–
A flip.
A switch.
A realization.
I wonder…
Could it be?
Could we be the same?
(And the answer was yes. They weren’t too different in all realities. The only wall splitting them being that the blood on each of their hands came from different sources and reasons entirely)
~ Arc 3 - P2: OYM! GR! K! -- Ch 19: FTPP ~
Throughout the next few days, Hitoshi spent a majority of his time pondering who in the world that boy was. Wondering who it could have been in regards to the school, and why he was still on the lavender boy's mind (and Izuku was just like that. The uniqueness, the rarity of his situation placing him in a world away from so many others. In a world that was rarely ever explored or even discovered for that matter - and because of that, because of that he was such a mystery to so many. He was a danger unclassified by those who could rarely see him, he was a treasure amongst those who wanted him, and was a monster to those who finally got to peek into the closet of his mind-)... He spent hours wondering, over and over and over, just flipping and tossing the very existence of this strange boy around in his mind, and by the next day he was already looking for said boy in the halls, looking for him in any of his classes, searching almost desperately just to catch another glimpse of him, wondering if he ever would again.
He couldn’t find him though, not after the first day.
Not during the second.
Nor even the third.
It was the fourth though, that gentle Thursday morning, that he finally managed to catch the boy stalking down the halls like he’d once witnessed before, bag hitched up to his shoulders and ears, eyes trained ahead yet keeping track of the surroundings that encased him, and sticking to as many corners as he could while he walked on in the packed express ways of the school.
Hitoshi had almost reached out to him.
Could feel his vocal cords stretch and tighten as his tongue tried to yell out without the permission of his mind. Could feel his hand lift ever so hurriedly off the strap of his bag and reach towards the smaller boy to grasp at a shoulder that was much too far away. Like a distant dream where he’d forgotten all logic, all aspects of space and time, he nearly went on with the unintentional need to talk to this boy. To know him. To know his life, his secrets, his self and everything else that could be woven into and knitted around this strange being like a blanket.
But he stopped.
He caught himself.
What am I doing?
He froze, his eyes dragging themselves down to stare at his hand in confusion and shock.
I need to stop. I’d never do this sort’ve thing. I need to get to class.
But just as he began to let his arm fall back, something invaded his vision.
Green.
Green eyes.
They looked…
They looked at… him.
Hitoshi almost felt his world spiral and spin when he saw that emerald eyes had found their destination in his, that the boy he seemed so unnaturally infatuated with was holding his eyes in their own gaze once more with that nervous confusion. With that unending desire to take in all the information he could about Hitoshi.
Hunger.
He could see it, swimming around in the endless pools that shown so lively in the light as they were caught in a stand still. Everything seemed to move in slow motion for Hitoshi; the air, the speech, the gravity of everything – all of it moved as if time was never real, as if the world itself collected around just the two of them and their desires, as if he was caught in a trap and was experiencing the last moments before his merciful demise.
But…
He wasn’t scared.
No, he wasn’t scared at all. Because behind that hunger. Behind the toxicity and irritation and anger, and over all prodding and invading and terrifying eyes - because behind all what had to be but a monster staring right at him in that moment, taking in his whole soul and grasping it so tightly in his hands with so much unending curiosity that Hitoshi even doubted this boy knew what he was doing at all – because behind whatever seemed to scream at him when he tried to look a little deeper into the emerald eyes of that boy so close yet so far in the never ending, yet confined hallway - all he could see was pain.
Pain so deep, so gut wrenching and heart shattering. So lonely… He couldn’t help but stare back without a care to how his body seemed to shake under the oil driven fires that burned with hate in his eyes.
Once more, just like before where when it had been only seconds to pass, it felt like hours, days, decades even. But he stared, not moving despite the shoulders and the comments and the noise of everything pushing and pulling and forcing around him.
I…
Green eyes blinked once, twice, before a nervous (sinister, horrifying, devilish, vengeful) smile was given quick and short before the boy was once more off again to class - just like the last time, with no time to talk, no time to meet, no time to even get within a foot of the boy – all of it gone in the matter it took to blink, smile and disappear back into his own world.
I…
He stood, shell shocked to his core. Fists tightened around his straps, and eyes glued to the area where the boy once stood.
I want…
He’d never felt such desperation before.
I want to know him…
And the world where Hitoshi once stood, with his ideals and all, was suddenly thrown out when it came to the green haired boy. Tossed freely onto its head, and left for the wind to be picked up and mashed and mixed around to form something new.
I think… I need to meet him…
~ Arc 3 - P2: OYM! GR! K! -- Ch 19: FTPP ~
(If only bias wasn’t such a clouding factor when it came to so many minds. Had Hitoshi only just talked to him, had he only just reached out then - maybe things would have gone better. Maybe, things would have been simpler, and maybe he might have made a friend so quickly. If only he’d had the strength to push then, and not dally until the sports festival. If only…)
~ Arc 3 - P2: OYM! GR! K! -- Ch 19: FTPP ~
When she’d first met Midoriya back early on at the entrance exam, she hadn’t thought much of him. To be completely honest, she was so wrapped up in the exam that she’d forgotten all about him until the physical test came and she’d watched as the near insane boy went around smashing the robots to pieces with only his bare hands and brute strength. Yet even then, she could only truly think about how much it fueled her own fire that someone so sweet and shy, from what she could remember anyways, could be so vicious and frightful when it came down to their determination to pass or fail.
Ochako could only be surprised the more she met him though. The more she saw as she went on throughout the exam, seeing the entirety of all things that other examinees did, the more she realized how much this boy really stood out against all the competition. Especially when the time came near to an end with only two minutes left on the clock and the zero pointer was released into the fake district cityscape. The way he’d come rushing back after her despite the wave going in the opposite direction, the way he’d run into action and unleashed a power like she’d never seen before in someone so small onto the robot's mechanical face, blasting it into smithereens; just watching the way it splintered and cracked and rained upon the field. The way she could feel something swell from within the depths of her chest, searing her body with the need to save this boy because she could just tell that when he’s around, things would get interesting in many ways (She’d later learn that she’d broken her own ankle in order to land that slap across his face- which shocked her to her core, seeing as while the snap she’d experienced had hurt, she’d barely even recognized the pain under all the intense pressure of the situation-).
After that, she’d dubbed him with the name “Hero-kun!” because of his heroic acts that could have possibly saved her life that day - even if they’d never meet again for some reason or another, she still wanted to give him the deserving title, if only known to herself. But then time had moved on, and suddenly she was running through the long halls of UA to get to class on the first day and what did she find standing at the front of the door to her class? But a boy who saved her life.
She’d been so ecstatic! So filled with joy that he’d gotten in, that she didn’t even pretend to calm herself as she ran up in excitement and determination to friend the boy right then and there. She immediately started to talk, taking in all the little quirks about the boy she could see in front of her to determine what kind of friend he would be - though in the end, she really didn’t care! She was just so happy that she could finally talk to him again!
But… time went on once again like a gentle flowing river, and suddenly she began to notice… little things… so many little things…
Like the way his hands moved from his sides to the straps of his bag in a motion that seemed awfully familiar to something she’d learned years ago. Or the stance of his body when Iida had begun to walk near them; so tense, tight, almost defensive. The way he seemed hesitant to talk when others were near, even if he was having a direct conversation with them, as well as the way he seemed to mumble to only himself, lost to his rampaging mind and unlimited space. She noticed the absence that filled his eyes when loud blond kid sped through his tests, as well as the irritation but understanding towards all the kids who were suddenly shouting about the fairness of their sensei’s tests. She saw it in the way he seemed to freeze when Aizawa erased his quirk, and the look of genuine fear when the blond kid charged him, in the way he barely used his hand throughout the rest of the day with the sudden addition of gloves after their fitness tests and the stunt where he’d broken his finger.
She noticed all these things - things that seemed trivial, or almost nonexistent to others that surrounded them, but so, so familiar to her.
But she couldn’t just see what it was quite yet.
It wasn’t until a few days later, while she sat at her empty home, listening to her dad over the phone about the things that had been going on lately, that something seemed to enter her mind and hit the nail right on it’s head.
~ Arc 3 - P2: OYM! GR! K! -- Ch 19: FTPP ~
“Hey papa, how’s it been? Anything new and exciting in the time I’ve been gone?”
A soft gentle sigh fizzled through the old flip phone, and she could almost see the small smile that decorated his face.
“Nothing too much baby, just the same old, same old. You’ve only been gone, what? Barely a week now? Crazy happens fast, but not that fast around here,” A low, tired chuckle echoed into the air and she couldn’t help the small smile of her own slowly pull at her lips, a warmth filling the empty room around her.
She loved her parents. They did so much for her, and she already missed them dearly. Especially her father. She wouldn’t lie, she was her papa’s darling little princess and she knew that dearly, but she’d never use it against him. How could she after all they’ve been through, and after all the things he’s already done for her?
“Well that’s good I guess, haha… But in all seriousness papa, nothing bad has happened yet, right? Those brokers haven’t come to collect yet, right?” No answer came from the other side of the phone, just silence and the barest hints of a breath.
“...”
“Papa–?”
“Baby, what did I tell you about this? I don’t want you-”
“–yeah, yeah papa, I know– ‘I don’t want you worrying about this, you have a future and it doesn’t involve the bad things we do’ blah, blah – I know you want to keep me safe papa! I know that’s one of the reasons why you only moved me here closer to the school and not with any of our relatives even though that would be the easier and cheaper solution. I know that’s why you don’t want me coming home for as long as I can while I’m studying to become a hero. I know - I know… but that doesn’t mean I don’t worry about you guys! You’re my parents, my mum and my papa - I can’t help but worry about the people I love and care for most…”
Silence once more and another sigh.
“Just… please papa… tell me what’s happened…”
“...”
“Okay baby, alright… alright…” A breath, “They did come, to collect the debts you know. Just yesterday actually, and they weren’t very kind about it. They roughed us up a bit-”
“Papa-!”
“-Don’t worry! Don’t worry - we’re all fine here. Nothing too serious… it’s just… Aki won’t be working for a while now… But they came, and told us if we didn’t have enough money the next time they were over, there wouldn’t be any more ‘warnings’ left to give…”
Ochako thought she was going to hurl right there. The idea that these people were possibly, no not possibly, would kill her father and mother because of the debts they owed was terrifying in her mind. She didn’t want to lose them so early, not now of all times, not when she was just beginning to start her own life…
“But you know how things play out… We might not make a lot of money working at our company, but we know how to run, hide, and evade. If anything, your mum and I will pack our things quickly and hop around like we’ve done in the past to evade them. And if it really gets to the point of becoming necessary, I can always call up our cousin to guard the area or take care of those bastards since they still owe us a favor for building their base all that time ago…”
It was then that Ochako seemed to have an epiphany - while her father went on about how they planned to handle this, she remembered exactly what seemed so familiar about the boy.
Back when Ochako was just a young girl, barely 6 or 7, she’d finally gotten to meet her cousin Nawamura Outa. The reason at the time was unknown to her, why her family had to stay with them for a few months alongside all her family's close coworkers, but she later learned that it was because her father had promised to use his company to build a base for their illegal operations without such events rising in the media or onto the heroes radars.
It wasn’t like they were being blackmailed or anything; her family got along quite well, so this task wasn’t too big of a deal seeing as her family came from poverty where everyone helped one another to make it in life, to give a chance for the next generation. Whether that be through schooling, work, or illegal activities. Cousin Outa had found a way to make it in the darker parts of a world she didn’t quite understand, and that was fine for them - so long as it never came back to hurt the children of their family.
From that day forward, while her father worked with his crew to build up the majestic place for their side of the family's safety, her cousin Outa had taken it upon himself to train her and the rest of the kids that were dragged along with because of such a job. He taught them to defend themselves in case something ever happened. He taught them to notice the signs of someone lying or trying to deceive them - or even planning to attack. He brought notice to the signs and symptoms of those who were hurt, abused, victims, or in need of help - so that one day, if necessary, they could help one another or save their friends and families lives. Cousin Outa had taught her everything she needed to know in order to survive in the world, without allowing her to see the true harsh realities of it.
And that connected back to Midoriya.
The way he walked and talked. The way he moved and smiled. The look in his eyes and the way he seemed to always be on edge.
He was a victim. To what or who? She couldn’t quite say (though she had a pretty good idea of who it might be now), but the reason it was all so familiar was because he showed signs. Signs that lit up the room like a neon board in the depths of the night to anyone with an honest to kami working brain. He was a victim to something harsh and evil, someone who had to learn to survive lest there be punishment - in what ways, though? She wondered, remembering the way he seemed so scared and helpless, yet almost ready for a fight in some instances, ready to defend himself to the last breath.
She thought about the way his eyes jumped around - the intense and almost dark look they always seemed to hold. The wariness that seemed to crack her heart when he looked at her, the fear that seemed to swell his tongue when he and shatter her soul to pieces when he spoke a little loud or too excitedly; yet the determination to talk even so with praise and unmouthed confirmation, and the same determination to save her still swimming through those vibrant greens.
Midoriya was a victim. A victim that had a heart of gold to be going into heroics.
With the new found knowledge in mind, she couldn’t help but remember the words she uttered to the inner workings of her own mind the day of the exam. “ A hero needs a hero too.”
And a hero I will be!
She would get closer to Midoriya, no matter what it took - would break through his walls and find out who he was, and when she did, no while she did - she would do her damned best to protect him.
I’ll protect you Midoriya!
No matter the cost!
~ Arc 3 - P2: OYM! GR! K! -- Ch 19: FTPP ~
(If only she knew what she was getting into…
Granted, when has that ever stopped true heroes?)
~ Arc 3 - P2: OYM! GR! K! -- Ch 19: FTPP ~
That boy… who is he?
~ Arc 3 - P2: OYM! GR! K! -- Ch 19: FTPP ~
There was this… air to Midoriya, Shouto noted.
An air that seemed to ooze and cling to the clothes he wore, envelope the entirety of the places he stepped, and trickle down the expressions that painted themselves onto his face each and everyday.
There was an air to Midoriya, Shouto noted, one that reminded him of something… wild. Something lost. Something hurt. But most notably, something almost deadly.
(Touya… what happened to you?)
~ Arc 3 - P2: OYM! GR! K! -- Ch 19: FTPP ~
There was such an… interesting air to Midoriya; one that no one seemed to pick up on at all besides Shouto. An air that reminded him of an animal - one that’s faced who knows how many countless terrible things in its lifetime. One that’s been hurt, molested, tortured, and pushed to the brink of the edge over and over; time after time again, and again until it finally became just a normal pastime for the deranged thing. Until it became that animal's reality and instinct.
Reminded him of an animal that was trained so harshly all its life to dispose of the lives surrounding it - to completely ruin and retire those who weren’t considered trustworthy, loyal, beneficial, or good in its exotic and crazed eyes. Trained to tear apart beings from the inside out - to rip out and absolutely shred the throats of anything and everything that so slightly even moved, just barely spoke, and hardly gave breaths. Midoriya reminded him of those dogs from the cage fights he’d seen on TV almost - in the way that they were forced to fight for their lives when the time came, otherwise they’d have to die trying - only for them to be locked up if they happened to win in the end. To be praised, yet still treated wrongly.
Midoriya reminded him of something so deadly- something so vicious and terrifying, but something of a pet. Perhaps more like the caged dogs that’d won so many times they became loyal side pets to their masters. Ones that went to fight, yet were eventually trained to be seated and worthy of up front praise sitting next to their owners, ones that went hidden to the unseeing eye - sweet, kind, careful, and unassuming in how deadly they really, truly were.
(Kind of like how Touya was all those years ago. So young and kind to me, even if he seemed to play with me roughly. So unassuming and quiet to those who looked in on the Todoroki home. Praised from strangers because of how well kept he was. But yet, it still happened… He still did that )
~ Arc 3 - P2: OYM! GR! K! -- Ch 19: FTPP ~
See, Midoriya was strange, Shouto would note once more.
The green haired boy was so, so very strange to him.
Strange in a way that he felt almost too cold when near Shouto. Strange in a way that he almost seemed filled with fake liveliness, the way it poured out of his hands and face and being. Strange in a way that felt threatening… In a way that made his own body want to fill with warmth and dare to spark that flame that he’d been suppressing for so long in the empty depths of himself. Made him want to flare up like a firework in the night, made him want to fight like he had only a handful of times before… made him want to use his fire.
His classmate was strange in the way that when within a certain area, a wind whispered in his ear some near billion year old instinct to use fire to protect himself like his ancestors had once more some time ago - that pounded and clawed at and into his brain that if he did , if he aloud his body to be engulfed by his flames, that he’d be thoroughly protected from what entity that Midoriya was. That he’d be able to live and fight him off for at least a few minutes ( seconds, you mean, his other instincts correctly replied), allowing him the time to run and flee and find a place to gather his will. To gather his mind and his strength.
He hated that thought.
Shouto hated the idea of someone or something so much more powerful than himself, especially when said something or someone made his deepest desire to run and survive scream in his head and ache in his bones instead of fight.
He hated the air.
It rubbed him so wrong.
He hated Midoriya.
Hated him so very much it nearly burned through his skin and kissed at his cheeks.
But he could be wrong.
Maybe he didn’t hate Midoriya, no, maybe he didn’t hate his classmate at all. Maybe the hatred came from the fact that nearly every time his multi-colored eyes seemed to drift even within the a foot of the emerald eyed boy, some dormant yearning to grasp at life, at perfection without the struggle, some inner instinct he’d originally only felt as a young boy fighting his father over and over and over again came to fruition inside his entire being - no, maybe he didn’t hate Midoriya, didn’t hate the smaller green haired boy. Instead… Instead maybe, maybe he just hated the way that he made himself feel. Hated everything about the strange boy that made him want– no, not want, need to use his fire. Made him feel the need to set alight everything in his path and surroundings and hide away. Burn the world in order to cover his tracks. Hide away like a scared child, shielding itself from a monster with its blankets - as if that could solve all his problems.
(Like he used to think when he was just a young boy. When he first developed his quirk and could hide away in his mother’s arms when everything became too much. Run to his big brother for the few seconds of brotherly attention he was given before being pulled back into the flame… If only they hadn’t gone… If only they hadn’t left me…)
~ Arc 3 - P2: OYM! GR! K! -- Ch 19: FTPP ~
Yet even after all that thinking, after all those ‘maybes’ and ‘perhaps’ and all other questions and feelings he’d had when being near, being close - watching, seeing, breathing, and just living, just existing next to that very boy – Shouto still finds himself landing back at square one.
He thinks he hates Midoriya, Shouto admittedly notes, locking his icy eyes with the very being to start this whole goddamned dilemma inside himself, inside his brain and head and heart and soul. Watches as he sees emerald eyes flick to and fro about his body like a map just discovered; taking in the details he seems to keep picking up no matter the amount of times he’s looked – just like he’s done every time he’s crossed paths with the boy. Always watching the way his eyes ever so carefully trace along the edges of his clothes no matter what they be; the way they seem to bore right through his school bag, picking up exactly what he might be hiding in there; how they focused on his scar, his mark, his branding, but never– no never too long, as if this classmate of his whom he’d just met somehow knew it was a topic of concern, knew that it was a releasing point for pain and suffering and so much more – as if he knew this was not something to be so involved in unless he had all of hell to pay and more. Midoriya always stared at him like he was just browsing through some grand library and decided that Shouto was the book he wanted to pick up and read for the day. Like he was the only person who seemed to matter in that very moment, in that very breath, in that very space and time – but only because of the information he held, not because of his true being, nor true interest, but because he could use Shouto at some point - whether with or against him. It was like the boy had wanted to pick at his soul from the very first time he became a passing thought in the back of that green eyed boy's head, and did so without so much as a hint of doubt in his mind that doing such shoveling into another person's life was disrespectful, hurtful, and near terrifying behavior.
He thinks he hates Midoriya, if not for the boy himself, nor the cloud of air and electric energy that seemed to trace his every path and being, then for only the reason that he sets Shouto on such an edge, on such a point that he felt the need to return to his natural primal instincts to use his fire to hide.
He thinks he hates Midoryia, and he doesn’t think that’s ever going to change, no matter how much he ignores it. No matter how much their other classmates seem to treat him despite this near unsettling fact.
He’ll just go on pretending, and ignoring, until he can finally put it behind him like he has plenty other times with similar things in the past.
(Touya… Mom… I’m… I think… I’m scared…)
~ Arc 3 - P2: OYM! GR! K! -- Ch 19: FTPP ~
Mei didn’t have a tragic life.
She didn’t have the sob story everyone is so accustomed to, the story to pull at you and your heartstrings.
She didn’t.
Young Mei grew up in a comfortable middle-class home on the outskirts of the suburbs for privacy. Both her parents had gone to college, and were now both respectfully business engineers, as well as support industry workers. She has an older sister who went to UA on a recommendation just like herself, and when that was over, went to an overall good college. After graduating from there, she then fell into the industry that her parents were in, but instead decided to take it her own way and create her own business that worked in cahoots with information, support gadgets, and plenty of weapons that were fit for heroes of all kinds.
Mei didn’t have a tragic life.
She went to a regular public school all her life; she was given what she needed in order to succeed in those classes, and when she needed more, she was once more granted the ability to achieve and aim higher. Even when she and her family realized the hidden potential, and the near never ending intelligence behind those bright yellow crosshaired eyes, they quickly rushed to accommodate her needs and interests even further - they never wanted young Mei to feel like she couldn’t do anything she put her heart into.
They allowed her to grow as a child; they made sure to let her dabble in all sorts of ideas, topics, and things in general. From choir to band, ballet to street dancing, from painting and graphic design to spray painting and even vandalism within their own buildings, from wood working to engineering, and speaking new languages to computer programming – anything and everything she wanted to give a try, they let her take her shot at to see where this little miss might land. Because of this, because of her families near never ending support, she grew to be a very well rounded child for her age, as well as damn near thrice as intelligent as most others.
Mei didn’t have a tragic life.
Yet, she still ended up underground.
~ Arc 3 - P2: OYM! GR! K! -- Ch 19: FTPP ~
With intelligence came some amount of arrogance. Whether noticeable or not by the beholder, it was still obviously there. This was just as true for one Hatsume Mei. She lived a pretty good life for her time; getting whatever she wanted and needed in balance, allowing herself to learn, grow, and overall just to become a better and more knowledgeable person than her peers. She had manners (though, quite frankly because of the eccentricities of her family, these weren’t always used), she had brains, and she even had her own brawn. But, just because you constantly can learn and grow, doesn’t mean you’ll forever feel the need to learn. Because of this, she was soon led to a disease called, “boredom.”
She grew bored of what was given to her, whether she wanted it or not - things became less challenging, less fun, and all the more logical and easily predictable. Became less surprising and creative, and all the more trivial and kindergarten. Her interest to grow was dwindling away as the lack of opportunities came her way, even if she tried to forcefully make them. So, she began to constantly hop from one thing to another, never staying with a project for long before she felt like she could rip her own hair out at how absolutely , agonizingly bland and routine everything would soon become.
It was finally a hit when she reached out to the idea of support gear just like her parents and sister had finally suggested. Something that had to be specifically made for each individual person for each individual quirk. Something so unique to the individual, it could almost surpass the individuality of quirks themselves. Yeah, you could make duplicates of so many of the items that were created in the field – hell, they actually did that sometimes so newbies could have some type of armor or weapons when going into their first jobs, but lacking the proper people to create something personal for them! But truly, in the end, not everything works for every one person in such a day and age, in such an era; so the solution? Find more ways to make the same thing over and over until it’s finally fit and usable for each and every person on this very earth.
With the discovery of support gear at her fingertips, Mei became delighted and enlightened with a fire she’d never felt before. She’d found her oasis in a very large stretch of desert. She’d become more energized, more filled with excitement and hysterics. She got loud, got rowdy, and blew up things!
So what if the kids slowly began to leave as a side effect of her happiness?
(Because they thought she was stuck up and rude to turn away opportunities they so dearly wished to behold).
So what if she stayed up all night long for days on end without an ounce of sleep to keep working on her “babies.”
(Because this was the only thing to keep her really running anymore, so she couldn’t stop for fear that one day she would lose interest in this too).
So what, if one day, she realized that maybe things went a little far and she probably wouldn’t be good at this job anyways - seeing as everything she made only managed to blow up in her face in a not so fun way anymore. So what if only her family were the only people to support her new hobby? So what?
So what…
~ Arc 3 - P2: OYM! GR! K! -- Ch 19: FTPP ~
It wasn’t until her sister started bringing her strange items she’d found during her late night hobbies that Mei really got her spark back once more. When seeing something new, she couldn’t help her curiosity and fascination with the craft. Wasn’t until her sister came into her room one night, a large gash in her arm bleeding all over the workshop floor, that she started asking questions about where these strange items were coming from while patching her up with all the medical knowledge she’d acquired from her extracurricular's. Wasn’t until her 11th birthday finally came that the secret about this almost wild and imaginary place was whispered into her ears in soft tones and darkening intrigue.
It wasn’t until but a few weeks later after said birthday that her first truly working and solid invention was created. All of it based around the strange images she’d been given, based around the blueprints for things she’d never even dreamed of making sitting on her worktop bench, based around ideas that had slowly begun to grow and form over time as she continued to dabble here and there and soon enough realized what exactly goes into making such creations. All of it, every single thing to help her grow since than, were credited to two simple words that couldn’t even dare to describe the real thing. And those were, “The Underground.”
From that point on, her life seemed to lift to the high heavens because now? Now she was a part of something. A part of a place she knew she was meant to fit into. Such a simple girl, with a simple life well lived, had found her way into the underground. A girl that you could call arrogant, because nothing was good enough until she fell into the dark.
Where other simple girls had seen darkness, this simple girl had seen a light.
~ Arc 3 - P2: OYM! GR! K! -- Ch 19: FTPP ~
The first time she’d ever heard the name “Henkei” she’d been confused, but intrigued.
“Vigilante’s?! That’s so cool! I’d never heard a specific one’s name before sis! Why’s he so special?!”
She’d been bouncing off the ceiling to hear more of what her sister had to tell her. Especially now since she knew exactly what kinds of side work Ayamei had been up to in her spare time away from home. Her sister had told her so much about that world, about the opportunities and the harsh realities of it all. Talked about how this was necessary on her part, since not all the good guys wore capes, nor had their names in the hero charts; as were the same for the opposite, being that not all those who wore the flashy suits were real heroes, and not all cops served to protect. That there was a group of people the system referred to as “gray” compared to the rest.
It made sense logically, in her opinion, that a group of people would form in spite of the system because of the wrongdoings or errors or even inequalities of such a system. In the end though, she never really cared about the finer details of such things like the law, unless it interfered with her work. After she’d masterfully built her first truly working invention, she’d found herself creating more and more, day and night, almost nonstop. Working on ideas and projects without the help of the strange necessities or blueprints her sister brought, instead her mind forming invention after invention as if something raw and rough had just been discovered and unlocked from inside her brain. Something she had the power to polish and shine. It became even more astonishing for her when Mei realized that she could market her items - sell them and make a profit to buy better materials, make stronger items, and then go on to sell even those! Her eyes and mind were open now, to the opportunities just falling in front of her, the multiple worlds she could build her name into - the ways she could help so many, while still having so much fun with herself!
It wasn’t just heroes she could make things for - No, now she had the gray scale to work with! And oh boy was that scale ginormous compared to the rest!
If she was completely honest - she thought it was actually kind of stupid to push yourself into the underground; into such a dangerous world that you have no true knowledge of unless you were invited there in the first place. While realistically she knows some are born there, some are captured to stay there, and others just kind of fell into the lap of that place, she happens to think that some people are quite stupid - mainly, those who chose to try and willingly join without a plausible reason.
Take her older sister for instance; her story isn’t anything tragic either. She didn’t get bullied, she didn’t feel underachieved, she never really struggled with something so great in her life that it would force her to go towards such a place. She just happened to discover something one day back in college while she was young, saw how useful such a thing was and took the advantage while she could. Ayamei had just went with it, just took it in stride as some tool she thought necessary to use in her game of life. Though, to give credit where credit’s earned, Ayamei did get help from their uncle Matsuta who was once a very well known detective, was someone that had dipped his own fingers into the underground.
But the point was, she thought her sister was just a tiny bit stupid for what she did. Her sister could have made it through life perfectly well without the need to go so deep, but she chose otherwise. Yet over time, even with such forward thoughts, Mei continued to watch her big sister and followed her to the depths of the underground, going anywhere and everywhere that the night streets traveled.
In doing so, she realized just how stupid so many other people were. How many people were just as stupid as her sister, because they could all be living such happy normal lives - what brought them to the point of willingly joining such a horrible place?
While her question was never truly answered, even as she walked around and lived this life as well - she did come to realize something about herself.
I must be stupid too.
But stupid had brought her to such a place, to meet a certain someone that had her bouncing off the ceiling, and really change the outcome of her life.
Henkei.
For years she’d been looking forward to meeting him with the tales her sister spun - over how smart he was, how brave and frightfully terrifying he could be. How with one single look he could pierce through your very heart, soul, and mind. How he never seemed to use his quirk - but always seemed to have the advantage wherever he went.
Mei would openly drool at some points because of the endless possibilities that came with such a figure. All the armor, weapons, gear, information, and more that could be built off of and sold to this strange vigilante!
And then she got to meet him, and she wasn’t let down. For once in her life, did she feel the fire that had spurred her into action once again roar throughout her body, flood through her veins and shock her mind. The desperate need to find out everything she could about this new customer had her bouncing in her chair, and floating above the clouds.
She had shivered when he first laid eyes on her - but she couldn’t help but let the instinctual fear consume her all the while a smile donned her face. Everything felt so exciting!
And then not too long after even that, SHE got to be ONE OF THE FIRST to ever lay eyes on the revealed face of the renowned Henkei…
Life… Life had gotten so breathtakingly colorful!
~ Arc 3 - P2: OYM! GR! K! -- Ch 19: FTPP ~
A grinned so cheshire in nature spread across her face as she cackled loudly, eyes tracing the movement of Midoriya as he ducked underneath the support course table once more, sending his usual terrifying glare her way.
Oh what did I do?! What did I do to earn something so great! So puzzling! So mysterious!!!
To describe any emotion that pertained to her in these moments left alone with the renowned Henkei, she would have to say it was fascination. The way it swept through her hair, and bubbled through her veins when she was with him was near addictive! Mei couldn’t help it though! She was just too interested in him, and nothing else could enter her.
I just want to crack him open and see what’s behind those toxic eyes of his! What tragedies happened to plague him? Why did he make all the choices he has? Was he stupid like most of the rest of us, or was he dragged into this whole world against his will?!
Why a vigilante? Why a hero as well?!
Oooh he’s terrifying, but oh my isn’t he fun!
Another boom and another glare, the two a combined romance at this point now, but she could see the exasperation hidden in those eyes, the nervousness that dwelled, and the grinding of gears in his mind as he worked something, whatever it was, out with himself.
He’s a one of a kind treasure to find, that’s for sure! I don’t think I could have ever met someone like him in my time without the help of my big sis!
But even as she thought of all the possibilities he’d be useful for in her work, she couldn’t help the little trickle of thoughts that entered her mind as he continued to come over during passing time between their classes, or at lunch when he had nothing to do, or even after school to just sit and talk with her - to better know her, and help give her pointers and so on.
What if…
He gave her a kind smile, and laughed generously at a joke she made, despite the fact that he’d almost been blown to the moon mere minutes ago. Though even so, she could see the insecurity and walls up in his eyes; standing tall and strong like a fortress that needed protecting, and she could also see the gentle relief and sprinkles of happiness in them as well while they continued to talk about nothing, something, and more.
What if we became real friends?
~ Arc 3 - P2: OYM! GR! K! -- Ch 19: FTPP ~
(Well, every successful genius needs a partner, don’t they?)
~ Arc 3 - P2: OYM! GR! K! -- Ch 19: FTPP ~
These four.
These four people out of so many hundreds.
These four were special.
While they may not have known it quite at that moment, they would soon come to learn just how impactful and important they were in Izuku’s little game he was playing. In his own little story where he’d come to meet over thousands of people in his time.
Would soon come to learn that monsters were real, scary or not, and that they were just pieces and pawns in a greater scheme of things. Would learn that not everything goes as simply or as blatantly as they’d once thought. But that wouldn’t stop them, nor would it stop him.
No, it wouldn’t stop either groups from coming together in order to survive. It wouldn’t stop them from trying to come together to better understand each other.
No, it wouldn’t stop them from soon creating a world they would feel known in, one where they helped lift this monster up alongside other mentors and create a disaster of a family on their own.
Even with this knowledge that they would be in cahoots with someone so dangerous, they wouldn’t back down if it meant things would change.
Arc 3 - P2 : On Your Mark! Get Ready! Kill! - To Be Continued