Chapter Text
Izuku counted the yen again, making sure he had the right amount. He needed ¥47752, exactly.
Sighing, Izuku, counted that, yet again, he was ¥200 hundred short.
Searching his bag, Izuku grabbed some out of his own savings out, then started his walk to his apartment. He prayed his mother wasn’t home, he couldn’t be bothered to deal with her either fussing or yelling.
Just in case, he threw on a jacket, covering his chest, stomach, arms and neck. Hiding the wounds and fucking hickeys.
Izuku hated these fucking jobs, but he could he do? Who the fuck hired a 13-year-old legally quirkless kid?
He’ll tell you. Fucking no one.
Except paedophiles, drugs dealers, desperate or unknowing crime lords and straight up fuckers all around.
God. People suck.
Sighing, Izuku tossed his backpack over his shoulder, deciding to take a short cut. He had to admit, there were pros to this, the crime. he learnt how to fight, how to improve and analyse on professional levels, how to lie and act properly, he tipped of the police plenty of times to.
Never enough to get him caught, but enough to get the fuck outta there and let the others get caught.
He learnt how to sneak around, how to hack into cameras and surveillance, as well as any coms, hero or villain.
And he got paid.
But, of course, he sold his body. Risked his mother dying. Risked his life being fucking destroyed. So far though, he’d been fine.
Well. Sometimes. The jobs made him dislike people.
People were fucking weird. Some loved him for his pain tolerance, and no-nonsense demeanour. Some enjoyed him skittish. Some liked him vocal; some liked him snarky.
All of them suck.
Izuku made it back to his apartment, tired and really, really, wanting to just go to bed. Unfortunately, life had other plans at the moment.
He made it inside, flicking on the lights and scanning the bare living room. His mother was passed out on the couch, alcohol bottle slipped from her hand and on the floor, leaking the red substance all over the carpet.
Of course. She went and spent all the money dad had sent them, again.
Sighing, Izuku grabbed the bottle, chugging the drops left of the wine before throwing it out and cleaning the wine before it stained.
He grabbed pillows and blankets, setting him mother up so she was comfortable as he stalked to the kitchen.
He grabbed the rent bill, checking the money over and getting the money to pay it. He’d go down to a convenience store later to pay it.
He separated the rest of the cash, leaving half to his mother, knowing if he didn’t, she’d yell then cry, because she felt ‘oh-so-bad’ for screaming at her dear, darling Izuku.
…
God, what was his life?
He took his half and split it up into funds for cooking, clothes, school supplies, anything in general.
He turned to go to his room, stopping and glancing back to his mother, his face softening at her on the couch.
“I love you, mum.” And he meant it. It was just hard to not be critical sometimes.
Izuku rubbed his eyes tiredly, setting everything down and grabbing leftovers from the fridge before going to his room.
He ate, filled in his notebooks, and went to bed.
>.>.>
Izuku didn’t enjoy being a bargaining chip, but he was getting paid a shit load.
Almost ¥186880, so around 2000 fucking dollars!?
Some boss Izuku had worked for last month had talked him up, and now the buyers or ‘hopeful companions’ as Bulla had called it, wanted to meet izuku.
The guy just so happened to forget to tell them Izuku only does one-time jobs and no longer works for him. But, no matter, to him at least.
Izuku fiddled with costume, (could you call it a costume? Maybe a suit? A style of clothing? A disguise?) checking over his weaponry and looks.
Black jeans, a white T-shirt covered with a black hoodie and his red shoes spray-painted a dark green.
Gloves, the fingertips missing on the middle finger and thumb for traction. A dark purple belt tied to his waist, leaving the holster for his gun barely visible.
His bow on his back, knives on place. Combat boots latched and bent in for the best mobility.
Izuku scanned his hair, the fake-black dye coming off with a green sheen. His freckles were covered with his face mask, a metal guard with dark purple cloth attached.
His eyes were purple, thanks to some not-so-cheap contacts. (Another Pro, really fucking cool ass gear!?) He was fine. He could do this.
Hopefully.
Izuku made it to the warehouse fairly quickly, waiting outside for his ‘boss’.
The man showed up in a normal suit, looking fairly nervous. “Sir.” Izuku’s voice was distorted, coming out lower and older then Izuku’s real voice.
“Auditor. Good to see you.” (Auditor = assistant. Latin.) The man swallowed thickly as Izuku levelled a glare at the man. “I wish I could say the same, sir.”
The man just nodded, moving past izuku and opening the warehouse door. Inside, multiple people surround one maroon couch across from a black one.
One man with blue hair, red eyes, covered in…hands. One with black hair, blue eyes, covered in scars. Another in a… costume? Not sure.
A lizard, a gas mask user, a middle schooler, a large woman (very buff. Very scary) and a large man (also very buff. Also, very scary). He was sure there was others somewhere
Izuku followed behind his ‘boss’ slowly, keeping his walking even and paced. As though he served the man.
“Ah. Bulla, Auditor. Welcome.” (Bulla = Boss. Latin) The Hands Man said (Kami, was Izuku really just going to call him that?), smiling like he’d just…shit his pants?
Ok. Never mind, no metaphors or similes or whatever the fuck their called. He held a certain type of smile.
A tight, analytical smile. Deciding how to act based on others. Exactly what Izuku does.
Shit.
“Please, take a seat. I assume Bulla forgot to introduce me?” he asks Izuku, leaning forward. The other members dispersed around the room, only 2 stayed close.
“I’m afraid so, Mr…?”
“Tomura Shigaraki. Call me Tomura.”
“Tomura. Pleasure to meet you. Please, just call me Mikumo.” Akatani Mikumo was a perfected fake name, one he’d used for a while now. (Akatani Mikumo = Green Valley. Japanese.)
Giving him the fake one was a sign of trust, at least of some sorts.
“Mikumo…” Tomura smiled, then Bulla cleared his throat.
Tomura frowned for a split second, then leant back with a smile. “Bulla. Right. Now, you talked about an offer for us?”
Bulla nodded, placing documents on the table. Izuku took one look at them and froze.
15 gangs taken down without any hero help!!!, one was labelled.
15 gangs Izuku had taken down. Shit.
“Now, I understand you were in cahoots with some of them. We could find the person who did this and bring them to you or to…justice.”
Bulla curled his hand in with a cruel smile, but it faltered when Tomura laughed. “Now, what makes you think we want this person dead? They are skilled, smart and a great fighter. All the gangs happened to be on our shit list to.”
Bulla stared, mouth agape.
“So, that won’t do. Besides, who’s smart enough to find them?”
Not me, not me, not me, not m- “Auditor, or...Mikumo, apparently” Fuck!
Tomura raised an eyebrow, turning to izuku. “Really? Huh…”
Izuku gulped, fiddling with the sleeves of his hoodie, trying to look Tomura in the eyes. “I could try, but- “He’ll do it!” Bulla cut in, making Izuku turn to glare at him.
“Fuck you.” Izuku hissed, which was meant to be quiet enough so only Bulla could hear him where he sat beside him. Though, Tomura must have heard him.
Eh.
“It seemed like Mikumo was trying to speak, Bulla. You should let your associates decide for themselves...unless I guess you aren’t really working with one another?”
Tomura glanced to izuku, who shook his head slightly. Please, kill the bitch!
“No matter, really. I was waiting for you to slip up.”
Bulla paused, going to ask what Tomura meant probably, only to choke as a knife was dug into his neck. Izuku stared as a middle school girl, or a girl in a middle school uniform, sucked the blood right from the man’s neck as he choked.
Honestly, he could not care less for the man. He’d seen for more vile things before, experienced more vile things before.
Izuku scanned it, seeing she had fangs as she retracted. A blood-based quirk then? ingestion needed for activation? Or diet? Could be both, lots of quirks are like that. She has multiple knives and was blushing when drinking it. Blood fetish? Want or need for it?
Izuku thought for a moment, scanning the girl once more, her clothes seem to be all sewn together, for quick removal maybe? Ah, transformation quirk then? maybe she drinks the blood of others and turns into them? Such an incredible quirk.
Can she use the person’s blood she ingested quirk? or, maybe that would come in like a quirk awakening. Mine was similar, though it did go from being extremely subtle to…that…hm. I’d have to ask.
In his mutterings, he hadn’t noticed the looks he got, gaping mouths and wide eyes.
Izuku was snapped from his stupor by a comment from the scarred man leaning on the wall a few feet behind Tomura.
“Woah…he just pin pointed Himiko’s quirk based of like…what, 5 seconds of action? Jesus.” The man whistled in appreciation, and izuku felt his face warm.
“Ah, my apologise. I tend to do that, dissecting quirks and effects has been my favourite past-time since I was young. I apologize for my mumblings, and for my…associate’s disrespect.”
Izuku bowed slightly in his seat, praying to Kami he salvaged the mess his ‘boss’ had made by even bringing Izuku here.
“No need to apologise for either, Mikumo. Your…mumblings were quite on point. And your boss’ issues were not your fault. I wonder, could you try and dissect…my quirk?”
Tomura asked, leaning forward slightly. Izuku hesitated, then nodded. “I can try. Real quickly, can I see your palms?”
Tomura looked surprised for a moment, before holding up a hand. Callouses were placed on each fingertip, 5-point activation quirk then. let’s see, he was careful not to touch anything without one finger raised, so immediate and probably violate. His skin is dry and flaky, so dehydration…
Which quirks cause…right, quirks in which they turn things into dust, ash or water cause dehydration. Based on the 5-point activation, probably Disintegration?
He has dust all over his thighs, wiping it away then? maybe, 5-point touch makes whatever he’s touching disintegrate? If so, extremely powerful quirk, good for rescue hero, incredible for villain. I’d say disintegration is the safest bet. Since he is a villain, it would be something…ominous. Destroy? Ash touch? Decay? Dust? Probably Decay, sounds evil enough.
Tomura grinned, and izuku smiled weakly back, then remembered ‘oh, right, they can’t see my mouth. Dumbass’
“Incredible. You’re correct, my quirk is called Decay. 5-point activation. It disintegrates from where I touch outwards.”
Izuku nodded, leaning back. When had he leaned forward? Doesn’t matter. “Interesting quirk, incredibly powerful. should I try anyone else, Tomura?”
Tomura glanced around the room, then pointed to someone Izuku hadn’t seen before. A man in a brown coat, wearing a white and black mask and a hat.
“Him. Ask what you please.”
Izuku bit back a laugh at his first thought, then decided to ask anyways. Couldn’t hurt trying. “What’s your quirk?”
Tomura snorted, and the man let out a soft laugh. “Not that.” Izuku nodded, scanning the man.
“Can I ask your name? your alias? Stage name?” the man perked up very subtly at the mention of a stage name. show man then?
“I’m Mr. Compress. pleasure to meet you, Mikumo.” He bowed, taking of his hat before flicking it back on his head. He had 2 marbles currently twirling around his fingers.
Izuku smiled, letting it crinkle around his eyes to show his delight. “Pleasure is all mine.”
Mr. Compress, magician style tricks, good with his hands, dressed in certain attire…is that…a marble? Compress, to press things down or make then small…magician…things for marbles…oh! Maybe he can turn things into marbles? Maybe make things small? Or maybe he can make things small and puts them in marbles? Or hollow marbles?
He’s also wearing gloves, so touch-based activation then. ok, I’d say…a marbles quirk. the ability to trap things inside marbles? Oh, see that’s so cool. Imagine all the possibilities for that. Does it work on organic matter, I wonder? Probably does.
“Kids on fire, 3 in a row! What a riot.” The scarred man grins, and Izuku finds himself smiling back. Unlike other jobs, these people were taking the time to scope his abilities, also gaining trust. Smart moves.
Tomura smiles. “Your analysis is skilled, Mikumo. Could you give us more on…let’s say a Pro Hero?”
Izuku nodded, beaming, “yes. Higher ranking, more information I can get. Though, dependent on how desperate I am and the rankings, it will cost you in money.” Izuku warned, bringing himself down form the pure elation he got form the praise.
people liked his analysis, they wanted it!
“I’m sure we can come to a reasonable price. Let’s see…we have money here, so how much would a top 100 be? Let’s say… Crura? She’s #76.” (Crura = legs. Latin)
Izuku paused, thinking about the rent and groceries. I’d say around ¥38173, which is roughly $400 AUD, if you don’t…use yen for some reason. But yeah.”
Tomura paused, “What Information would we get?” Izuku smiled, “Name, age, house, quirk, quirk drawbacks, medical files, patrol hours, crimes and current close & living relatives. Give or take things, more or less expensive.”
Tomura grinned, “That’s…perfect. Your exactly what we need. Now, I know Bulla mentioned you only do one-time jobs, but we could pay you well?”
Izuku tilted his head, “I’d…I’d do multiple analysis for you, if you could pay. But I’m afraid only one physical mission, unless your trade in a shit ton of money for multiple.”
“That’s good enough. Now, Himiko could you ask Kurogiri for a notebook and pen? Mikumo, could you write down the information you have on Crura, including hypothesis?”
Izuku nodded. This was his entire life. His pride and joy, that’s what his analysis was. Honestly, izuku had been so desensitised by now, he couldn’t find himself caring it could be the death of Crura.
She did shoot (kick?) him out of a job earlier anyways.
>.>.>