Chapter Text
Uchiyama Tsushima was a horrifying man. A man with more secrets than the air which surrounded him. If monsters could be alive, he was a walking one. Lurking in the shadows with no sympathy for others. Everyone knew of him as just that. A monster. His name would be whispered among the streets, mothers and fathers alike used that name to scare children into not walking the streets at night. Everyone knew of that name of a constant fear that monsters do exist, just not in the drooling, stomping form people imagined them as.
Everyone in Japan, and other states alike, knew of his gang. This gang was a heavily populated and dangerous one, if anyone ever had the misfortune of running into any of its members, they knew they were doomed. Anyone in Uchiyama’s gang were all disgusting criminals with no remorse for their actions. Everyone knew to not mess with his gang, even the optimistic pro heroes with an ego as big as the world itself. As long as the people minded their business, the gang stayed at bay, only committing petty crimes which spared no importance to the heroes.
Nobody knew that Uchiyama Tsushima had a child, besides the people who were fortunate enough to have the pleasure of being his ‘subordinate,’ hiding the child away from the rest of the world, isolating him to his breaking point. This child, who goes by the name of Osamu Dazai, is
unaware of the horrors his father has brought upon others. Little did he know, he was bound to find out, even in the next few hours.
-
Shota Aizawa was at a meeting. This meeting really didn't hold any importance to him, really. It just made him wake up extra early, and stay, waiting for hours while higher ups discuss what to talk about during the meeting. Life of a pro hero. It's “awesome”. He could really have a better impact on the world if maybe, y’know, he wasn't spending his whole day in a meeting, but, that's just how life goes.
Finally, after what felt like 41 years of waiting, a few heads of the HPSC and principal Nedzu waltzed into the room, the short pitter-patter of their shoes being the only heard sound, expressions filled with grim and seriousness.
Principal Nedzu walked to the center of the room, waiting patiently until all eyes were on him, before speaking in a smooth and serious tone, “It has come to our attention, over the past few years, that a villain group leaded by Uchiyama Tsushima is at large and is highly dangerous.”
He took a breath, observing everyone’s body language before continuing.
“Due to recent events that have occurred, we are going to have to infiltrate their base.” The mouse closed his eyes, preparing for the rebellion the more rowdy heroes were going to put up, and he was right, because many heroes began to argue about doing this, saying things such as “Are you insane? We will get killed!” and some just outright nonsense. He took a deep breath, before holding his hand up, having a completely serious tone. “Silence.”
The heroes who jumped out from their seats sat down with a childlike pout, and everyone slowly came back to the silence which had filled the room moments before. Nedzu opened his eyes, scanning the room, before speaking once more. “I understand your concerns, but, as much as I’d love to tell you to go back home, to stay safe, we can't wait around doing nothing about these villains. If we do nothing now, they could surpass us all, taking down the world we have created. Do you want that? Think of the children, your families, the citizens, yourself.”
The room filled with complete silence, everyone thinking about how they didnt want to see the world they have taken so many actions to build, come crashing down, didn't want to see the people they know and love, broken down and miserable. After a long moment of silence, Nedzu spoke up once more. “If you do not want to participate in the infiltration of Uchiyama’s gang, please, raise your hand at this moment.”
Everyone stared at one another, the complete silence starting to create a tense and uncomfortable air. Nobody made any move of raising their hand, so Nedzu sighed quietly, and looked at the audience of pro heroes, who were waiting for the next step. “Now that’s settled. Please understand, there is now no backing out of this. This is the last warning.” The mouse spoke in an indifferent tone, taking no time to hear anyones words before moving on to the next topic.
“Please find time in your day to read these battle plans before next week.” Nedzu gestured towards a stack of papers near the door. “You are excused,” many heroes stood up, some faster than others. Aizawa took no time in taking the paper, and leaving immediately. He felt it was almost stupid to rush into a violent gang base, just to what..imprison them? This gang is known for killing anyone in their path, but he still wants to help. He wouldn't be a hero if he didnt help.
He took one glance at the battle plans, and groaned internally. He has to work with Endeavour?
Yeah, Endeavor may be great at fighting and all that, but he isn't really who Aizawa would want to work with. He’s loud for no reason, and always has a huge ego. Not really the ideal person Aizawa would want to work with, but he will just have to do it, whether he likes it or not.
He flipped through the other pages of the battle plans, but it was mainly just dates for the battle and the planning. If he read it over a few times he’d probably memorize it to heart, but Aizawa was more of the sort of person to read it once then just see how it plays out while actually there. Sure, the battle plans could form some sort of help, but they won't know what to expect until they are actually in the moment, fighting.
He sighed, deciding he would think about the battle some other time. At this moment, all he wanted was a cup of fresh, black coffee, and a good long rest.
-
Dazai swayed back and forth, his crimson colored hair waving in the slight breeze which filled the warehouse he was currently settled in. He stared at the ground, never daring to look towards his fathers direction. The magenta hue of his fathers eye’s always made him shudder with the feeling of death peeking up his back. The way his father always seemed to stare at everything, but nothing at the same time.
Dazai sighed, the air surrounding him filling with the white mist of his warm breath against the air that always seemed to manage to freeze Dazai’s hands. Dazai looked up for a second, staring at the scene that was ahead of him. A male man. His short wavy hair would be tied up into a ponytail, his eyes covered by a red rag which was also known as his father’s tie. The tie was quite silky and always seemed to slide off the older male's head.
Dazai put his gaze down to the ground again, for he knew he had stared for too long at the man. He could hear the short rhythm of the sound of his father and many others' shoes, it seemed to come closer and closer every breath he took, right until his father was standing right above him, his eyes seemed to bore a hole through the boy with how hard he stared at him.
“Well now, son.” His father clapped his hands together, his deep and musky tone leaving no reassurance towards the boy. “You’re going to be our top row audience, eh?” The man had a slimy grin on his face, full of ill intent towards the boy. He slowly wrapped his larger arm around Dazais twig-like arm. Dazai took a deep, shuddering breath but otherwise did not comment, allowing himself to be dragged along by his father.
Dazai slowly slid only the old rusty benches of what used to be a school gym, but was now just an old, deteriorating building which many used as a warehouse, or otherwise trashed it. Dazai now had a full view of the scene which was unfolding ahead of him. An older man, of which he had glimpsed at a few times earlier, was sitting in a chair. Or rather, was tied to it. Dazai recognized him as a rather new member of father’s gang. He remembers seeing the male stumble around the place, asking if they shall accept him.
But now, seeing him tied against the old, creaky chair, he realized his father was likely foolish to allow the man into their gang. If he was feeling rebellious, he would have even laughed, but he knew better than that. He watched as the man attempted to struggle his way out of the tightly secured restraints. Dazai knew there was no way he was ever going to, but he supposed it could be good entertainment.
Dazai held his breath as he saw his father and few other men walking up to the poor, quivering male who was ahead of him. Dazai almost felt pity for him, but he knew if he suggested that in any type of way it would be frowned upon heavily. The gun his father held danced in his hands as he spun it, walking closer and closer to the other male.
“Well, well. Heroes,” His father took a long sigh before continuing, his tone seeming to be mocking. “You always think you're so strong, eh? Thinking you can spy on us? Oh. This is laughable!” His father pushed out fake, mocking laughs. Spinning the gun around one last time before pressing the gun against the male's head, digging it into his skull. Dazai could hear the man whimper in an attempt to pull away from the gun. He felt sick at the sight and had to turn his head.
An unsettling silence filled the room, the tension growing tenfold. The time seemed to slow down, Dazai folded his hands together, his father stomped his foot down with a loud “Clunk!” which could be heard echoing around the room. Father left out a loud chuckle, before setting the gun off. A loud “Bang!” echoed around the room, and Dazai shielded his eyes, not daring to look at the gruesome sight.
The man who was once quivering in the seat, now lied still, his legs dangling like a bat from a tree. The smell of iron slowly filled the enclosed space, making Dazai feel lightheaded. His father would drop the gun, the loud sound of it clattering to the floor filled the dead silent room. Dazai spared one look at the dead, soulless body of what used to be a man. It slowly sinked in of what his father had done, and Dazai spared a look of pity to the limp man, not for long though, because Dazai’s father slowly made his way up the metal bleachers, staring directly in front of Dazai.
“Well, boy. Was the show entertaining?” Dazai’s father lifted him as he spoke to Dazai. Dazai gave a curt nod, nausea slowly getting to him as the thick smell of iron filled the air around him. As he and his father slowly made their way off the bleachers, Dazai slowly leaned into the uncomforting touch of his father, resting his head on his shoulder as he dragged his feet against the ground. His father paid no mind to Dazai, only dragging the smaller boy by his arm.
Dazais eyes drooped, but the blaring, rough voice of his father made his head snap up in attentiveness. “We cannot spare to have another traitor come snooping, eh, Dazai?” Dazai raised his eyebrow at his fathers small talk, but still gave a response. “No…we can't, father.” He spoke with fear clear in his voice. He slowly leaned back into his fathers touch, yawning as they made their way back to their car, fathers subordinates following after, arguing about childish topics as they made their way through the foggy night.