Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chuuya was walking down the street of Musutafu, trying not to scrunch his face in disgust. All the hero regalia around a random city street was enough to make him want to gag.

But he had to keep up his appearances for this new mission. So he swallowed down his revulsion and kept walking.

He, along with Dazai, was sent to Musutafu for a few reasons. One, they had been made aware of someone in the Port Mafia being a spy for an outside entity. They were selling information on the Port Mafia and Yokohama general to someone outside. While the spy had been caught and was under observation, their buyer was still at large. Mori wanted Dazai and Chuuya to find him.

Which led to problem number two. Shortly after the spy was caught, the man was squealing like a pig about everything he could. He revealed that while he didn’t know his buyer, he did know that the mysterious man was keeping an eye on information regarding Sakaguchi Ango.

And that was a major problem. Sakaguchi was someone who had most of the Port Mafia’s secrets either in his head or in his files. He was indispensable, and having an enemy getting their hands on him was a definite no.

So they had placed him under guard, since he was a noncombatant member and couldn’t protect himself fully. Apparently Dazai knew Sakaguchi on a personal level—some sort of recent relationship built off of being drinking buddies at the same bar—so he had his other random drinking buddy and little Akutagawa keep an eye on him from the moment they found out.

The next issue arose when Akutagawa and the other guard, Oda, went missing while protecting Sakaguchi. The man himself had managed to make it back to mafia headquarters while being defended, but the other two disappeared without a trace. Not even a body part left behind.

Their shred of hope came from Sakaguchi managing to get a read with his Ability on some of the items the would-be kidnappers had on them. So now they had a lead on who the mysterious buyer was.

And if it wasn’t just the icing on the cake that they discovered it was none other than Japan’s HPSC, the government in charge of heroism throughout the rest of Japan minus Yokohama.

That didn’t bother Yokohama much. What annoyed them was that this Commission was trying to get into Yokohama borders and was apparently after their secrets. It wouldn’t be the first time someone tried this, but it was the first time anyone had managed to actually get information out of Yokohama before being shut down.

But that wasn’t it. No, it was bigger than just Yokohama. After Sakaguchi poured through everything he could, and by contacting the government about the breach of information, the true motive was discovered.

The Hero Commission was after information on Abilities.

The existence of Abilities was kept under lock and key inside Yokohama. While Ability Users are born everywhere, they usually assume themselves to be Quirked individuals. And, for unknown reasons, ninety-seven percent of Ability Users are born in Yokohama.

Of course, Yokohama is still a majority Quirkless city, known as such to the public. Ability Users take up less than one percent of the entire world’s population, after all.

Finding out that the Hero Commission was trying to find information on Abilities was jarring enough. But to discover that a villain by the alias of All for One had been kidnapping and experimenting on Ability Users for decades now was even more of a discomfort.

He was apparently a villain who had terrorized the rest of Japan while Yokohama was safely out of the loop. Everyone thought he’d been defeated years prior, but apparently he was just working from the underground now.

Chuuya hated experiments. Apparently, there was evidence of countless Ability Users born outside of Yokohama having been taken by All for One and toyed with until they died. And from what their evidence suggested, the HPSC wasn’t much better.

And now, to find out that poor little Akutagawa was in the hands of such monsters…

He couldn’t stand the thought.

So this wasn’t just a mission to put a stop to the HPSC digging into Yokohama. It was a rescue mission to get Akutagawa and Oda back from them before something worse happened to them. And they also had the added goal of shutting down this All for One guy before he could commit any more horrors against Ability Users.

And, since Mori was Mori, he didn’t want it to be just that simple.

So there was an added objective to the mission: to send a message to Hero Society and everyone in it. Why they couldn’t just make a big scene and leave the heroes to pick up the pieces, Chuuya didn’t know. He never understood Mori.

It was probably just the boss’s sadistic nature; he wanted to play the long game, even if there was a quick, easy and effective solution that Chuuya would have much preferred.

So Chuuya and Dazai were meant to put a wedge between the HPSC and the citizens’ trust, as well as upend Hero Society’s criminal underground, and wreak as much havoc as possible.

And the Yokohama government had let Mori take over and pull the strings however he wanted. Chuuya supposed they figured Mori had the right because it was his members that went missing, and more of the Port Mafia’s secrets were laundered than just Yokohama’s in general.

Plus, Yokohama had always been a bit morally grey. Some of those geezers in their government definitely wanted to see Hero Society squirm a little for their mistakes.

Which normally, Chuuya wouldn’t mind. But those from Musutafu were the self righteous type, who thought they could just invade wherever they wanted because they couldn’t understand the idea of not everyone wanting to partake in Hero Society. He’s sure when their mission gets into the gritty areas that he and Dazai are going to be dealing with idiots who cannot comprehend why they’re so against accepting heroes.

Thus, Chuuya and Dazai were here to blend in and play the long game for Mori’s entertainment, so that they could finally get rid of the pests, among their other goals. They had to be subtle, acting as normal civilians whilst sowing seeds of destruction little by little until they would set them off all at once. Only then would they reveal that Yokohama was behind it.

The heroes had been given their warnings in the past, more chances than Chuuya could count, but they went unheeded. This was just the natural next course of action, especially with a few of their own on the line.

The HPSC had their members and some information, All for One was vying for their biggest secret to become his personal weapon, and Chuuya was done with this bullshit.

Honestly, Chuuya would have preferred to just head into Musutafu and set out to demolish their ideals and shiny heroes, but Mori liked to make everyone—and by extension Chuuya—suffer.

So, with all that in mind comes the final layer to their mission: eradicate All for One and all his followers—that’s Dazai’s job—and kill All Might while dismantling as much credit the HPSC has as possible—that’s Chuuya’s.

One might ask why All Might was a target. Simply put, he’s a liability as well as the primary pillar of support for the world. If he crumbles, so does the HPSC and Hero Society as best as Chuuya will be able to manage.

Doesn’t mean it’ll be all cupcakes and rainbows, though.

Chuuya sighed, clutching his hand tighter around Q’s.

Yeah, he was also stuck babysitting, as his identity apparently required. While Dazai got to go mingle with Musutafu’s underground and wreak havoc the good old-fashioned way, Chuuya had to play the caring big brother and hero wannabe.

Sickening. But Mori had made a good point in that Dazai was more suited to manipulating the harder targets. They would both have an easy time with manipulating hero students, but Dazai had a special skill of getting under the skin of those who felt more untouchable.

But Chuuya also felt like Dazai wouldn’t even last a day pretending to be nice to hero brats. So he took that as a win as well.

He adjusted Elise on his hip. Mori had hated to part with her, but she played the role of a toddler well, especially since Mori could change her looks, age and personality to his liking. So as far as anyone knew, she was a sweet little three year old, even though Chuuya knew she still very much had the same mind she always did.

Q clenched his hand around Chuuya’s, scooting a bit closer to him as they walked down the crowded street.

“Where are we going?”

Chuuya frowned, knowing that Q was unused to this kind of environment. This mission really only required him to sit tight and pretend to be an innocent kid for Chuuya’s facade, but he knew that Q was also going to enjoy the freedom for a while.

“I’m going to drop you off at our new place. I have to take my entrance exams later today.”

Q frowned, but nodded nonetheless. “Kay.”

Chuuya rounded a few more corners, the streets getting less crowded and more rundown the farther they went, until they came upon a dingy apartment building. Chuuya hated the look of it, but this was all for appearances, he supposed.

He took them both up the stairs—no working elevator, figures—and opened up the door to their new apartment. It was a single bedroom and bathroom, with a small kitchen and living room. Extremely small, and disgustingly filthy, but he’d do his best to clean it later.

There was no place to do laundry, but they had a small balcony, so he supposed he could wash outside on that.

Chuuya sighed, letting go of Q’s hand and setting Elise down.

“Alright, I’ll leave you both with some money if you get hungry. I’ll get some cleaning supplies on my way back from my exams.” He set his hands on his hips, looking around to see if anything needed his immediate attention. “Elise, you’re in charge.”

Elise yelped in excitement while Q made a scandalized gasp.

“Hey, no fair! I’m older!”

Chuuya shot him a flat look. “Elise is older than both of us.”

Q pouted, crossing his arms. “Well, right now she’s not.”

Elise stuck her tongue out towards him, and Q clenched his fist as he glared at her.

Chuuya sighed, putting a hand to his temple. “No fighting, you two. We need to pretend to be each other’s family. All we have is each other, remember?”

They both grumbled, but nodded nonetheless. Chuuya had faith in Elise’s acting skills, as she was programmed whatever way Mori wanted for this mission. Q would be a bit more work, but Chuuya figured he could manage. He could afford to be a little moody, since his character is a slum kid.

He got a message on his phone—an old flip phone, courtesy of Mori to make him look even poorer. He flipped open his phone and saw that Dazai had messaged him.

Mackerel>> on your way yet???? wouldn’t want 2 b late!!!

Chuuya curled his lip at the way Dazai texts. He glared at the screen as he typed out his response.

<< shut your trap. Heading out now.

Regrettably, Chuuya wished Dazai was here with him. He’d be coming down in a few weeks, for when his part of the mission starts after Chuuya—ideally, for Mori that is—starts school. Right now, Chuuya was setting the stage.

“Alright,” he turned to Elise and Q, who were both bickering about what food they were going to buy. “I’m heading out. But I’ll be back in time for dinner. I’ll pick something up for you.”

Q waved him goodbye while Elise snatched the money from him, cackling in victory. Chuuya just sighed, turning and shutting the door. It was going to be a long trip to the school, since it was way out in the best part of town and Chuuya was in the worst.

It was still nowhere near as bad as the slums of Yokohama, which Chuuya had grown up in.

As he approached the school, Chuuya fixed the small communications receiver in his ear, small enough that it wouldn’t be noticed behind his hair. He put in his clear contacts, both high tech cameras perfected for this occasion.

Truth is, Chuuya does not know much about basic school subjects. How could he, when he grew up in the slums since age seven and had no memories of how he lived before that? All he knew was that he was in a lab until age seven, and the Port Mafia doesn’t exactly prioritize education.

Of course, when he had been in the slums he had done what he could in spare moments to try visiting libraries, and even now in the mafia he did his best to educate himself. But the process was slow and he had to prioritize missions, so in terms of knowledge he’d probably put himself somewhere in mid-elementary school.

So, Dazai was going to help him cheat by looking through his eyes and talking in his ear. It wasn’t ideal, but they had tried to teach Chuuya a little more of what he’d need to know for the exams before this and the information just was not sticking fast enough for the upcoming exams.

So he’d have to learn on the side, probably teaching himself or watching online tutorials for how to learn basic math and reading comprehension. Chuuya hated the amount of work he was going to have to do for this mission, and he was convinced Mori was punishing him for something.

As soon as he sat down at his desk and flipped over his test sheet, Dazai’s voice popped up.

“Eeeewwww! Algebra? I hate algebra!”

Chuuya tried not to let his irritation show on his face as he bent over his desk.

“Hiya, chibi! How you liking Musutafu? Do you have a favorite hero yet?”

Chuuya bit his tongue and tapped a little on the paper.

“Sheesh, tough crowd. Fine, fine. Circle C.”

Chuuya did. He normally wouldn’t trust Dazai with this kind of thing, but he didn’t really care if he was making Chuuya circle wrong answers. If Dazai botched the mission, it meant less work for Chuuya and Dazai getting chewed out by Mori.

Dazai yawned obnoxiously. “Kay, I’ll walk you through the equation so you can show your work.”

Dazai was a fast talker, but Chuuya was used to it, managing to keep up as he walked him through the test. It wasn’t long before he was finishing up his last written exam, walking out without having to have done any of the actual work. He knew he’d have to make it up later, but right he could relish in knowing that Dazai had to be the one to really take those tests.

“Hmm~” Dazai hums in his ears. “Naturally, I made sure you got enough wrong so they don’t expect much from you, but I calculated how many you needed to get right to pass, and I gave you a little extra out of the kindness of my heart!”

Chuuya bit back a sigh as he did his best to maintain his facade.

“Also, I googled most of them! I didn’t feel like solving all those problems!”

Chuuya’s brow pinched, nearly popping a blood vessel in his forehead. Of course the bastard wouldn’t actually put a lot of care into his mission.

Chuuya just swallowed down the irritation, making his way to the auditorium where he was going to get instructions for the physical exam.

“Remember to score first place, Chuuya!” Dazai sang into the comm. “Mori said you just need to pass, but I have the feeling those who are scoring you will be able to tell if you hold back too much. Besides, my plan requires that you stand out. So just hold back enough to get first without making you look like the god you are, m’kay~?”

Chuuya reached at his ear, taking the comm out discreetly and shoving it into his bag. He fumbled with his contacts as well. He wouldn’t need them for the practical exam anyway. And he was done listening to Dazai for the day.

Chuuya finished the exam. He wasn’t really counting how many robots he took down or how many people he saved—yes, he figured out pretty quickly that people would get points from rescuing others; he’s not that stupid, it’s a literal hero school—but he knew he passed anyway. He took down at least ten or so more than the second highest scorer in his field.

He walked out of the building towards the entrance of the school, looking for the two he knew would be there. It was part of the plan, after all.

Just as expected, he saw Q and Elise standing outside the gate to UA, holding up a horrendously doodled sign reading: Yay Oni-chan!

It had an ungodly amount of glitter and exclamation points, but it just made it all the more selling. Other students standing around him glanced over, some muttering while others smiled. He saw a green-haired kid almost physically melting at the sight.

Chuuya put on a smile, not entirely fake. He was actually kind of glad to see them. At least they were familiar to his normal life, and he was relieved they had survived this long with him being gone.

He walked up to them and knelt down in front of them, ruffling Elise’s hair and setting a hand on Q’s shoulder. Elise’s face briefly changed to one of irritation before putting her innocent, proud smile back on her face.

“Hey, I hope you weren’t waiting too long.” Chuuya chuckled as he took in the sign. “Wow, did you two make this for me?”

Q wouldn’t meet his eyes. He could tell the poor kid was embarrassed by the artwork he was forced to participate in.

“Y-yes…” He huffed a bit. “We made it for you.”

Elise bounced excitedly on the balls of her feet. “Do you like it?!”

Chuuya smiled earnestly, taking the sign from them into his own hands.

“I love it so much. Thank you both.”

He wrapped his arms around them both, receiving slightly forced hugs in return. He sighed softly, knowing that this was going to take some getting used to. The only reason Chuuya could stay in character was because looking nice and pitiful was a key skill necessary to surviving in the slums as a kid.

He pulled away and stood up, rolling up the sign and putting it into his bag.

“Nii-chan…”

Chuuya glanced down, noticing Elise making grabby hands up at him.

Q scowled just slightly. “Nii-san is probably tired from his long day of testing, Elise. Don’t be a bug.”

She stuck out her tongue at him, and Chuuya just sighed. Truthfully, he was mentally exhausted, but the actual tests weren’t the issue. He was just exhausted at the prospect of having to pretend to be this innocent kid for the foreseeable future.

“It’s alright, both of you.” Chuuya smiled as they both turned to him. “I’m never too tired to carry you.”

Elise lit up in joy. Chuuya knew she was unused to being in this age’s form, so he could understand that having longer legs for however long she’s been manifested as Mori’s Ability would make it hard to adjust to suddenly shrinking significantly.

He leaned down, letting Elise climb up into his arms and settle comfortably on his hip. He absentmindedly reached for Q’s hand as he adjusted his grip on Elise. He got comfortable with Elise on his hip just as Q reached up and took his hand, shyly looking down at the concrete sidewalk.

Chuuya felt himself smile a bit as he tugged him forward.

“Alright, let’s get home.”

Taking a closer look at the apartment now that he had time, Chuuya realized how much worse it actually was. Dust coated everything, there were cobwebs in every corner and he’s pretty sure he saw a few roaches here and there.

So he left immediately, heading to the nearest store and buying every type of cleaning supply they had in stock, waltzing straight back with the intent to deep clean the whole place before even thinking about furniture.

He scrubbed down every surface he could see using a heavy-duty scrubber and went over everything with cleaner and rags. He couldn’t do much about the peeling wallpaper, but then again he wasn’t supposed to make this place look nice. He was still trying to keep up appearances as a poor kid with the only income of the house.

But he refused to live in absolute filth ever again.

He used his Ability to kill whatever roaches he saw. He swept, vacuumed and scrubbed every surface: the floors, walls and ceilings of the entire apartment. He placed down as many roach traps as he could in every room, including the closets. He didn’t want those little bastards multiplying in his presence.

Now, with the house feeling generally clean, he felt a bit more relaxed. He wiped down all the kitchen counters and appliances. It was a small kitchen, luckily, so there wasn’t much work to do.

Chuuya made sure all the water taps and lights were working, filling up a bucket and scrubbing down the balcony as a last touch. He needed to buy furniture now, but he had a portable bedroll that would work just fine for one night for the three of them. It was getting late, and they were all tired.

He rolled out the bed mat in the bedroom and sat on the kitchen counter to type up his report to Mori. He could almost hear Dazai laughing at how much work he’d had to do for this mission already, just on the first day.

Finally, he shut his computer and took a quick shower, changing for the night in the bathroom before heading to bed. He crawled into the bedroll between Q and Elise, both of them having kept as much distance between each other as possible.

Chuuya just sighed, closing his eyes and opting to not stare at the stained and peeling ceiling.

He felt Elise wrap her tiny hands around his arm, and Q’s head gently pressed against his other side. They both remained fast asleep, clinging to his warmth.

This was fine. He had been a big brother before to plenty of Sheep members. What were two more? This mission should be a breeze, right?

He could do this. Probably.

He woke up early enough the next day, sending Q and Elise out to buy groceries while he bought furniture. He knew he had about a week until test results came out, and he was spending the rest of the break before the start of school cracking down on his studies. So he had time to kill.

He bought two futons, figuring they’d be enough to share amongst the three of them. Since all three of them are pretty small—Chuuya’s sixteen now, but he’s sure he’s not done growing—they won’t need more than that for now.

He bought a couple pillows and blankets for when it got cold, as well as a heater. Their apartment didn’t exactly come with heat, apparently. It had a really old AC system though.

He bought a carpet and a couple fold-out chairs, along with a small, low-standing table. He took the cheapest set of kitchenware he could find, as well as generic bathroom and hygiene materials. He would take Elise and Q out for clothes another day. They could make do with what they had for now.

He carried it all in, coming into the apartment to find Elise and Q back with food. He decided to just briefly set up the chairs and coffee table to make a quick meal so that they could eat.

Q and Elise went to put away the bedroom and bathroom stuff while Chuuya fixed up the living room and kitchen. He fixed the carpet under the coffee table to make for a decent sitting area, and then put away the kitchen tools rather quickly.

Once he was done, he surveyed everything. The apartment didn’t look nice by any means, compared to how he’d been able to live with his Port Mafia salary the past year and a half. But compared to his days in the slums, he’d consider this a dream.

“Chuuya!”

He pinched his eyes shut, groaning. What now?

He wandered into the bedroom, seeing Elise and Q tugging on a green blanket.

“Tell the brat I grabbed it first!” Q yelled, scowling as he tugged on the blanket.

“Tell the bitch it’s ladies first!” Elise yanked back on the blanket, huffing when she didn’t make much leeway.

Chuuya refrained from rolling his eyes, his face neutral. “Hey, green!” He said with fake enthusiasm, walking over and snatching it from in between them both. It slipped from both of their grasps easily. “My favorite color. How nice, I think I’ll take this one.”

He threw a random blanket at Elise, and another one at Q, not waiting for either of their reactions as he set his blanket down in the middle of the two futons—he knew those two would rather die than sleep beside each other—and he reached into his bag to grab his computer. Mori made sure to send him with an old one, so it wasn’t too nice.

He pulled up some random movie he’d seen Elise watching once, setting it down on the futon and grabbing his phone as he left the room.

Neither of them followed, nor made any further fuss. He supposed his distraction had worked. For now, at least.

Chuuya sighed as he sat down on one of the fold-out chairs in the living room, kicking his feet up on the coffee table.

This was going to be a long mission.

Chuuya frowned as he once again walked into UA. He wasn’t sure why he was being called in for an interview with the principal of the school. He didn’t remember that being a part of the application and entry process. But he wasn’t going to argue.

He waited outside the allotted room until the door opened, and some weird creature stood in the threshold.

“It is I, the principal!” The thing exclaimed, throwing an arm up into the air enthusiastically. “What am I, a bear or a mouse perhaps? No one knows!”

It began laughing, and Chuuya made sure to put a polite smile on his face as he stood and bowed his head.

“It is a pleasure to meet you.”

“My, my!” He heard the thing drawl in amusement. “Such a polite one, you are! Please, come in. This will only take a moment of your time, I assure you.”

Chuuya made sure to follow into the office, being led to a couch instead of the chair in front of his desk. He figured the principal—Nezu—would want to grill him, but the environment was calm and relaxed.

“Would you like some tea?”

Chuuya blinked, and nodded politely with a smile. “That would be lovely, thank you.”

Nezu smiled again, pouring two cups of tea. “An excellent answer, young one!”

Chuuya blinked at that, a little shocked to be referred to as something so… infantile?

Nezu chuckled as he brought the steaming paper cups over, handing one to Chuuya. He thanked him as he took it, and Nezu sat on the couch across from him, taking a long drag of the tea.

Chuuya brought his own cup up to his lips, sniffing it discreetly to see if there was anything added that shouldn’t be. He could have slipped a truth serum or something in, and wanted him to divulge all his secrets. Although that was unlikely, as the mission hadn’t really started yet.

“Now,” he began, setting his cup down in his lap. “I suppose you are wondering why I called you here today, correct?”

Chuuya smiled sheepishly and nodded. “In truth, sir, I am.”

Nezu chuckled again, shaking his head slightly. “There is no need to be so rigid, lad. This is not an interrogation. But because of your unique profile, I need you to answer a few questions for me so that we can process your application.”

Chuuya managed to contain himself from going completely rigid, nodding. “Yes, sir. Of course. What is it you would like to know?”

Nezu hummed, sipping some more tea. Chuuya took a sip of his own too, so that he might appear more calm and relaxed.

“I just have some basic questions. The first of which is, tell me, there is no listed school on your application, for either junior high or elementary. Can you tell me why that is?”

Chuuya nodded, lowering his cup into his lap. “I did not go to school formally. Though I still studied school subjects.”

It was true. Back in the slums, he often took the kids in the Sheep, and even those before them, to the public libraries when they could. Chuuya knew how to read, though he could not remember how he learned, and he taught the other kids how to as well. He took in as much knowledge whenever he could.

Nezu nodded in turn. “My next question is, you have no listed guardian anywhere on your application. Why is that?”

Chuuya allowed himself to grimace a little for the character’s effect. “You see, I don’t actually have a guardian… no parents or anyone who looks out for me.”

Nezu hummed lowly. Dammit, Chuuya couldn’t tell what he was thinking. He reminded Chuuya of Dazai in a way.

“I see.” Nezu finally said. “And, how would you say that you make a living, then?”

Chuuya frowned a bit, the question feeling a bit invasive but he still had a practiced answer just in case something like this came up.

“I take up spare jobs. I go with my siblings anywhere I can to make enough to support all of us.”

Nezu nodded, his expression looking less dark now. He was probably wondering if Chuuya stole to get by or something. Pest.

“So you take care of your siblings, then? Without a guardian, who taught you the school subjects?”

“I taught myself.” Chuuya said easily, which wasn’t entirely untrue, though he wouldn’t have gotten far without knowing to read by some unknown means. “I teach my siblings, and we often go to public libraries to get our schooling done.”

Nezu hummed, nodding and taking another sip of his tea. “I see. And, also on your application you neglected to put an address.”

“Oh…” Chuuya took another sip of his tea. “At the time that I applied, I was homeless. I just moved to the city not too long ago and got a loan for an apartment. The plan was to live there and work odd jobs to go to UA and support my siblings.”

Nezu had no visible reaction, but the air in the room seemed to dry up a little. His gaze was intense. “So, you’re not homeless anymore, then?”

Chuuya nodded. “I can put down my address now, if you’d like?”

Nezu smiled and hopped off the couch. “That’s just what I was going to ask! I have your application just up here somewhere.”

Chuuya watched him fish around in his drawers for a moment. He took another sip of his tea, which was getting a little cold, though it was still good nonetheless.

“Aha!” Nezu came waddling back with a piece of paper. “Here we are.”

He placed it on the low table in front of Chuuya, pulling out a pen from his vest pocket and handing it to Chuuya. He took it with a polite smile, pulling out the godforsaken flip phone to check his new address. He hadn’t memorized it yet.

Once he found it, he wrote it on the line for the address and shut the phone, sliding the piece of paper back over to Nezu. The principal grabbed it and looked at it with a smile that quickly turned into a frown.

“This… your address is pretty far out.”

Chuuya knew he wasn’t actually commenting on the distance. He knew what Nezu was implying: really? You live in the worst part of the city?

Chuuya shrugged sheepishly. “It was the… best I could get. I hope to be able to move in a few years.”

Nezu hummed, seeming to contemplate this before his smile was back on his face.

“Well, let it never be said that UA doesn’t care about its students. If you get accepted into our school, I’m sure we can find a solution to help you out with the long travels. It can’t be easy coming from all the way out there.”

Chuuya smiled sheepishly, internally grimacing. “Thank you for the offer, sir.”

Yeah, thanks for being afraid of the slums of Musutafu but not actually being willing to put in any work to improve it.

Nezu just nodded. “It’s always my pleasure. And you should be admired for the work you have put in to remain on your feet. It can’t have been easy work.”

Chuuya chuckled awkwardly. “Truly, I can’t say I believe it myself.”

Because I’m not as fucking gullible as you-

“Well, that is all I called you here for today.” Nezu stood from his seat, and Chuuya took the hint and stood as well. “Why don’t I have one of my teachers drive you home, since it is rather late in the day?”

It was early afternoon, but he could tell Nezu was worried about sending him through the slums alone.

He really was going to get into this school based on pity points, wasn’t he?

He bit his lip and lowered his head sheepishly.

“I would hate to impose on your kindness anymore, sir.” He waved his hands around for effect. “I can make it home myself, I don’t want to be any trouble for you when I’m not even your responsibility.”

Nezu just waved him off, which Chuuya kind of figured would happen.

“Nonsense. I can assure you that it is no inconvenience, and here we like to look out for children, even if they aren’t our students.”

That word stung Chuuya—he hadn’t been a child for a long time. He’s now a Port Mafia executive, a member of Double Black. Before then he was a valuable subordinate to Mori. Then the King of the Sheep, as much as he detested that name. Before they considered him king, he was just their leader from pretty much the get-go. And before that…

Just an experiment of some sort. And before that he was nothing.

Maybe he had been a child, once. If he was even the original version, that is. There stood the chance that he was less than human… that he didn’t even exist before he was seven years old. That he was just a copy of Nakahara Chuuya.

No, he didn’t think he had ever been a child.

Still, Nezu seemed to be taking the lead on getting him a ride home without noticing Chuuya’s internal conflict. He hated how he so easily got swept up in his thoughts whenever the topic of his humanity came into question. It was stupid, a simple detriment that he needed to get rid of.

Nezu put down the phone he had apparently been talking on, walking back over to Chuuya.

“Follow me, Nakahara-kun. I have one of our teachers going to get his car to drive you home.”

Chuuya did his best to put on a smile. “Ah, I can’t thank you enough, sir…”

He followed the mouse thing out of the school and towards the road in front of the UA gate. He supposed this would be where the teacher pulled up.

“I’ll drop you off here.” Nezu nodded at the student as he apparently turned to go. “It has been quite the pleasure to meet you, Nakahara-kun.”

Chuuya kept his face straight at the jarring honorific—this man wasn’t Mori, he had to remind himself; only the boss and Kouyou would ever speak to him like that—and bowed respectfully.

“The pleasure has been all mine, sir.”

Nezu smiled and turned on his heel, marching back into the school.

Chuuya waited until the rat was almost inside the building before sighing lightly. He couldn’t let his guard down too much, but he was tired of the facade today. He wasn’t sure he could keep it up as long as Mori wanted him to.

He heard the faint sound of an engine and tires crunching asphalt before the car even came into view. He’d had years of experience looking out for incoming threats that he wasn’t even sure how he still got any sleep at night.

It took a few more seconds before a car came into view, turning out from a side street and onto the street by which Chuuya was waiting. He gripped the hem of his shirt nervously, unsure of what to expect from a teacher of this school.

The car pulled to a stop in front of him and the window rolled down, revealing a disheveled looking man dressed like a hobo.

“You can get in, kid.” The man called, and Chuuya bit back a retort at that stupid word again. “I’m Eraserhead, one of the teachers at this school.”

Chuuya was beyond wary, as he had never been to school but he was pretty sure teachers didn’t look like this. But he knew better than to argue, and worse comes to worst he could definitely take this guy in a fight.

So he stepped forward and opened the door, sliding into the car and shutting the door behind him. The teacher pulled his car back out into the road and began driving. Nezu must have already given him the address over the phone.

“So, you’re one of our hero-hopefuls?”

Damn. Chuuya had been hoping this guy wouldn’t be the talkative type. So much for his hopes and dreams.

He gave him a soft smile and nodded, looking into his lap. “Yes, I am.”

The man gave him a small smile of his own that looked genuine enough. Chuuya hadn’t pegged the man for someone emotionally adept, so he supposed hero society must be full of surprises that he was not looking forward to.

The man seemed to be studying him without looking away from the road. It set Chuuya on edge, but he was better at hiding his emotions than people gave him credit for. He liked to blow up at Dazai, but if he wanted to he could keep a level head for the most part around his asswipe partner.

Chuuya pretended that the silence didn’t bother him, looking out the window and watching as the scenery passed by without attempting to make awkward conversation. It put him more in control of his environment.

Finally, the man chose to speak up again.

“I remember seeing you in the entrance exam.” He remarked calmly, keeping his eyes facing away from Chuuya. That didn’t mean, though, that the man wasn’t observing his reaction. “You did very well. Your Quirk control is excellent, and you seem to have a sharp mind.”

Chuuya turned back to him with another sheepish smile—he was getting sick of these—and he rubbed the back of his neck.

“You think so? I’m flattered you would say that…”

The man sighed softly. “I’m not saying it to flatter you. But I want to make sure that those I examine in the tests know their own capabilities. If you underestimate yourself, you’ll never reach your potential.”

Chuuya wished this man would cut the crap already. Clearly he was probing deeper for something. Did this man try to psychoanalyze every potential student he met, or is Chuuya just lucky?

Maybe the sheer emptiness of Chuuya’s application had set off some suspicion among the staff? They hadn’t, after all, met him yet, and he’d only just cleared everything up with Nezu. He must come off as a little strange to the other faculty members. Maybe this man was trying to get some answers for himself. He didn’t seem like the type to usually volunteer to drive a random teenager home.

Chuuya hummed noncommittally, as if pondering what the teacher had said.

“I suppose that makes sense.” He turned and gave his best optimistic smile. “Though, I’d say I’m pretty confident in my abilities.”

‘Pretty confident,’ as in I could probably beat every member of your staff, all of your school’s students, and then some without even using my hands.

The teacher seemed to accept his answer, not attempting to make any further conversation. Chuuya knew the tactic of creating and perpetuating awkward silence in order to force the other to try and fill it and give away information about themselves. But Chuuya was perfectly content to sit in silence for the rest of the car ride.

When they finally pulled up in front of Chuuya’s apartment, he felt relief flood through him. This nightmare of a day talking with hero school employees had come to an end. Though, he knew this was only a taste of what was likely to come.

As he was unbuckling his seatbelt, the front doors to the apartment complex opened and Elise came rushing out, Q hot on her heels.

Chuuya initially felt a surge of panic before realizing that a hero wouldn’t hurt them. And having them here in front of this Eraserhead guy could maybe work in his alias’ favor.

He smiled and stepped out of the car, closing the door quickly as he jogged over to meet them.

He scooped Elise up into his arms as soon as she was within reach, stepping quickly to get back to the sidewalk.

“No running into the road.” He chided, but he smiled down at her as she giggled.

“Sorry, nii-chan!”

He ruffled Q’s hair and turned back to where Eraserhead was still sitting in his car, probably waiting for Chuuya to go inside. He bowed to the man one last time before turning around and reaching for Q’s hand, pulling him gently into the building.

He didn’t let out the breath he’d been holding until they were halfway up the apartment stairs. He could hear Elise giggling in his arms.

“Mr. High and Mighty Executive bowed to that old geezer, eh?”

Chuuya scowled at her. “Sounds like the words of someone who’s walking up the rest of these stairs.”

She gasped as Q let out a shrill cackle. “Noooo!”

Chuuya just rolled his eyes. “That’s what I thought.”

Chuuya stared at the stupid hologram with little enthusiasm—i.e. none.

So he had gotten into UA. Whoopie. This was only the beginning, he knew. A whole lot of shit was going to go down from this point on.

He received a sheet detailing instructions on how to draw what he wanted as his hero costume, and gave the information on where to go to get a school uniform. Chuuya really didn’t want to do either, but he figured he had to.

Chuuya didn’t bother trying to illustrate what he wanted; he was horrible at drawing anyways. Instead he just wrote a list: pants, sleeveless compression shirt, combat boots, gloves, compression sleeves, cloth face mask, all black.

He frowned. This was an outfit meant for simplicity, efficiency and agility, with minimum clunky pieces. But he supposed it was going to need more than just that.

He put down a utility belt and a visor to go over his eyes, just in case of shrapnel. That way, his costume might look a little more hero-like, instead of random dramatic civilian, or even villain of sorts.

But he would be damned if he looked as ghastly as current heroes he’d seen in pictures. This was all he was putting. He was aware that the instructions said that inadequate illustrations would lead to the designers taking liberties with the costume, but he frankly didn’t care. He thought he detailed it enough.

He looked at the last date to get his uniform, deciding to go closer to that date. He knew that the place would be packed as soon as it opened up for students, so he was going to wait it out, even if it meant getting the leftovers. It didn’t matter to him if his uniform was a little too big or too small. He could deal with it.

He sighed as he walked to the nearest post office. His apartment didn’t have incoming or outgoing mail because of how bad his side of town was, so he had to find somewhere else to send UA his filled-out form.

He dropped it off in the outgoing mail slot and left with his hands in his pockets. It was getting later in the day, and he still had some studying to get done. He sighed, shuddering a bit at a gust of wind.

Maybe he should’ve put in for his costume to have a jacket. But oh well. He had a few in his closet that would pair well enough with the rest of the costume.

Shouta walked up to Nezu’s desk wordlessly, looming over as the principal kept typing without looking up.

“Need something, Aizawa?”

Shouta just sighed. “That kid who scored the highest on the practical exam, Nakahara? He’s been accepted, right?”

Nezu nodded again without ceasing his work. “Yes, he passed all of his written exams. Why, did you have an opinion on that?”

Shouta ignored the question. It didn’t warrant an answer. “I would like to request he be placed in my class.”

That got Nezu to stop what he was doing, setting his hands down on the desk and finally looking up at Shouta.

“I see nothing wrong with such a suggestion. But I must say that I am rather curious.” He leaned forward on the desk a bit. “Why are you asking for such a thing?”

Shouta sighed. He should’ve known Nezu would pry for the details.

“My conversation with the kid was brief but informative nonetheless. And his performance in the practical exam was exemplary. He’s a kid who worked his way up from the very lowest of circumstances and seems to appreciate what he has worked for.”

Nezu’s grin widened. “But?”

Shouta’s brow pinched slightly. Nezu could read him like a book.

“But,” he began reluctantly. “There’s something about the kid, some sort of feeling I’m picking up from him.”

Nezu just sighed, leaning back in his chair. “I am afraid I cannot justify putting him in your class if you are only suspicious of him. I wouldn’t want it to affect your teaching habits nor his learning process. I know there has been talk among the teachers pertaining to his strange circumstances, but I do not want any of that perpetuated in the classroom.”

“That’s not it, Nezu.” Shouta shook his head. “Quite the opposite, actually. I am not asking for you to put him in my class because I am suspicious of him, but rather because I think he’s blind in what he’s searching for.”

Nezu’s grin was back. “Oh? Do tell me what you mean by this, Aizawa.”

Shouta sighed again. “I met the kid. He seemed confident in his abilities, and sheepish in everything else. He took his exams no problem, and he seems to know how to communicate, but he’s still keeping his head down. He claims to not be underestimating himself, but somehow he still is. I just can’t figure out what part of him he doesn’t think is whole.”

Nezu nodded, seemingly more pleased now that Shouta had stated the root of the issue. “I know how much you consider potential to be important. I figured that must have something to do with your request.”

Shouta bit back another sigh. It was useless to argue with Nezu or try to claim he couldn’t read every intention clearly.

“It is true, Nakahara is likely just used to having to keep his head low to get by under his circumstances.”

Shouta shook his head. “I considered that to be the reason, but in that case I am not sure he could have gotten here if he subconsciously kept his head down as something instinctive. He wouldn’t have been shooting for the top spot in the practical exam, and he wouldn’t have such confidence to reach for the goal of the greatest hero school. You can’t just ignore the ingrained sense to keep your head down, and I don’t think it’s that he’s just masking the instinct well.”

Nezu hummed, considering. “You make a fair point. Very well, then. I will have Nakahara placed in your class, but under the condition that you bring out his potential fully. If you’re going to end up pushing his buttons and cause him to retreat from success, then I would see no benefit.”

Shouta nodded. “Understood. Thank you, sir.”

Nezu just sighed lightly and went back to typing on his computer. “You never cease to surprise me, Aizawa.”

Shouta just nodded and turned to go, biting back the retort of and yet you never seem as surprised as you claim to be.

Shouta was glad that he had succeeded in getting what he went to Nezu for.

There was just something about the kid… the way he talked to his siblings versus the heroes. The way he and his siblings had all looked at Shouta like he was something standing in their way, some sort of threat looming over them. The way the kid had seemed so confident and yet so… empty. Like he didn’t quite believe to his core that there was any completeness to himself.

Shouta wanted to extract that, expose it in the limelight, and help Nakahara fill that void with something substantial.

He didn’t know everything about Nakahara’s background. That was private information in the kid’s file that he was only supposed to know if it became necessary later. What he had gathered from the information he’d been given was that he’d spent his whole life in poverty as the sole provider for himself and younger siblings. He also had likely been homeless more than once in his life. He couldn’t claim to know Nakahara, or his ambitions and motives.

Part of him got the feeling that the kid was only going to UA to have a solid future to support himself and his siblings. But the other part of him felt like there was a deeper motive.

Perhaps the kid was subconsciously looking for a way to complete himself? In any case, Shouta is a teacher, and as such it is his job to help guide students to do just that.

He just hoped a kid who seemed as closed off as Nakahara would allow himself to be changed.

Chuuya hid his grimace as he stepped into his classroom. He made sure to be extra early, so that he would make a first impression as someone innocent and over eager to be a hero. He was the first one in the classroom, taking a seat up front at the other end of the classroom.

He really was not getting paid enough for this, he decided as more students began showing up. It started with a strange kid with blue hair, escalating with a loud blonde that reeked of explosives. Chuuya wondered if it was the kid’s Ab- no, Quirk, or if he was secretly in some shady business.

He doubted it was the latter, though. The kid didn’t look gritty or intimidating enough to make it in a gang or mafia setting. Chuuya had seen more threatening toddlers in the slums of Yokohama back in his days there.

Chuuya ignored any conversation going on around him, finishing up his reading section. He’d gotten pretty good at math and science, as they consisted just of a lot of principles to memorize and apply. But reading comprehension and English were still not his strong suit, and he didn’t want to look like a total idiot to the teachers.

He continued his reading until everyone simultaneously quieted down, and he glanced up to see some hobo—hey, it was that same guy who had driven him home that one time—crawling out of a sleeping bag.

“Put these on.” He held up some ugly looking uniform. “Meet me out in the field.”

With that, he left the classroom. The wall beside Chuuya opened up, revealing numbers that he supposed were shared with their desks. He sighed as he stood and went to pick up his own.

He followed the other students to the locker rooms, pulling off his shirt and pulling out the other one. He supposed this was the school’s P.E. uniform or something.

“Um,” he heard someone murmur quietly behind him. He snapped his head around quickly, staring at a yellow-haired kid looking at him nervously.

He cocked his head, trying to remind himself of his facade before he snapped at him.

“What is it?”

The kid didn’t seem to know quite what to say, and Chuuya looked at him with confusion. What was the kid so nervous about?

Someone else, a boy with spiky red hair, came up behind him. It was only then that Chuuya realized that most of the guys in the room were silent, looking at him directly or from out of the corners of their eyes. The only ones seemingly not paying much attention were the annoying blonde kid from earlier and some guy with split hair and a scar on his face.

“You’ve got a lot of scars, man.” The redhead began, forcing a smile that made Chuuya want to cringe. “I don’t know if it’s our place, but…”

It’s not, Chuuya wanted to snap. He was never self conscious about his scars, as in the Port Mafia scars were often considered a statement. They were like battle trophies. Although, Chuuya hadn’t been scarred during his time in the Port Mafia. That was his pride: the fact that no one could land a hit on him. Matter of fact, all of his scars were from his days in the slums, or before that… when he couldn’t remember.

Chuuya just shook his head and smiled. The facade he was going for was reminiscent of a shonen protagonist with zero personality except for being ‘nice’. He hoped he was pulling it off well enough.

“Don’t worry about it.” Chuuya slid the shirt on over his head. Now he was hesitant to change out his pants because he knew almost everyone would be staring. Still, he forced himself to move quickly, giving the gawkers almost no time to take in the scars on his legs before he quickly pulled the gym pants on.

“They’re nothing to worry about, I assure you.”

“A-are you sure?”

Chuuya glanced at the green haired kid who had piped up for a brief second before turning to shove his stuff into a locker.

“Positive.”

He gave them all one last smile and waved at them as he swung the locker room door open to head out to the field.

He almost dropped his face into a scowl, but then he reminded himself that there were probably cameras throughout a hero school like this. He didn’t want anyone knowing he was hiding his true personality at this school, even if that alone shouldn’t tip anyone off as to what he’s actually doing.

And that would be causing chaos and sowing discord, all while looking for clues to finding their missing members.

Akutagawa, my boy… I’m coming for you.

Midoriya happily listened to their teacher explain what they were doing instead of orientation. He was a bit nervous to perform in front of and alongside his class, but it seemed straightforward enough.

Aizawa turned to look at a specific student… the short red haired kid with all the scars. Midoriya felt his heart wince at the image he remembered, though his classmate had effectively brushed off their concern.

Midoriya wasn’t quite sure how, though. It shouldn’t be possible to dismiss worries about scars like that, and of that quantity. Somehow, this classmate had managed to really make them sound like not a big deal.

“Nakahara,” Aizawa said, and his classmate stood a little straighter—must be his name. “You finished at the top of the practical exam, right?”

Midoriya’s eyes widened, and he stared at the student. That was shocking, considering Kacchan’s skills and strengths. Speaking of the blonde, Midoriya swore he saw several veins in his forehead pop.

The student, Nakahara, seemed to have to think about it—strange—before nodding.

Aizawa continued. “In junior high, what was your best result for the softball throw?”

Nakahara just cocked his head, as if the question didn’t make any sense.

“Uh… I did not go to junior high.”

Midoriya blanched, and he saw Aizawa’s eyes narrow slightly.

“Homeschooled, then?”

“Self-taught.”

Midoriya wouldn’t have believed it, but… well, Nakahara hadn’t hesitated, and he didn’t seem to be lying or exaggerating either.

Aizawa furrowed his eyebrows, but didn’t push the topic.

“That doesn’t matter now,” Aizawa gestured for him to come forward. Nakahara looked a little tense, but stepped forward without complaint.

“Try doing it with your Quirk.” He tossed a softball to Nakahara, who caught it easily. “Stand in the circle and throw as hard as you can out into the field. If you think you’ll break something, aim higher.”

Nakahara frowned, but stepped into the circle clutching the ball.

He glanced back at the class and Aizawa, as if wondering if he was actually being serious. Midoriya supposed this exercise would seem a little ridiculous if you’d never done it in a school setting before.

He watched Nakahara turn back around and wind up for the throw. His stance seemed practiced and balanced. He became encompassed in a slight red hue, and Midoriya cocked his head. Was that part of his Quirk? And when he finally threw the ball…

Midoriya’s eyes blew wide. He watched the ball disappear into the sky completely, going faster than Midoriya would’ve thought possible. It was faster than things Kacchan threw with his Quirk, at least as far as he’d seen.

The rest of the class was gaping as well, and Aizawa turned around as nonplussed as ever, holding up a screen that displayed the infinity symbol on it.

“It went too far to determine the exact range, but it basically amounts to this.”

The entire class erupted into cheers and shouts, some of them patting Nakahara’s back as he returned to the crowd. He looked a little shocked and uncomfortable, as if he wasn’t used to receiving such joyful praise.

“This looks fun!”

Midoriya couldn’t see the poor soul who said that, but he guessed the student was receiving a lot of glares now because Aizawa began to take that phrase and run with it.

“It looks fun, huh?” And oh, Midoriya didn’t like that tone. “You have three years to become a hero. Will you have an attitude like that the whole time?”

Midoriya frowned. Was that such a bad thing?

But then Aizawa grinned, sending chills down Midoriya’s spine.

“All right.” And he looked far too pleased with himself. “Whoever comes in last place in all eight tests will be judged to have no potential… and will be punished with expulsion.”

Chuuya passed all the tests with flying colors. He was first in every field. He felt a little bad about it, as he could’ve held back more for the other students—the kid whose entire schtick was speed lost to his time in the race—but Dazai had told him to be the best out of the students whenever he was pitted against them. He still didn’t know what Dazai was planning, but he would prefer not to argue and potentially elongate this mission if he could help it.

So at least he knew he wasn’t getting expelled. He knew there was more to ‘lack of potential’ than just not scoring well, but Eraserhead had only said that he would expel whoever came in last. He wondered if this was the kind of teacher to go back on his word.

Probably, damn heroes.

Still, Chuuya didn’t care much. If this mission flunked, then they would just go about bringing hero society to its knees the easy way.

Eraserhead apparently seemed done with them after the results of their tests were done—no one was expelled, shocker. He dismissed them for the day, which Chuuya wouldn’t complain about. He hadn’t left Elise and Q alone in the apartment this long since the exam day, and he was worried they might have caught something on fire by now.

Dazai found himself being thrown into a bar. It felt strange, as usually he was getting thrown out of bars that he was no longer welcome in. He hit the floor with a thud and suppressed a grin. He lifted his head as best he could and looked up at the crusty blue-haired guy sitting on a stool.

“What’s this?” His voice was scratchy and hoarse, nearly making Dazai cringe. He sounded like a worse smoker than Hirotsu.

“I found him sulking out front.”

The man on the barstool huffed. “And what did he want?”

The man who had dragged him in—a man literally made of black smoke- wait, was this what the blue-haired guy was smoking?—just shook his head.

“He hasn’t said anything.”

The man finally turned to him, revealing his face that was covered with some sort of plastered hand. It looked hella gross.

“Tell me why you’re here before I kill you.”

As tempting as the offer was, he was here for a mission that he found exciting for once. So he decided to play along with Mori for now, at least until he got bored.

Dazai grinned up at him. “There have been whispers in the underground for quite some time now about an up and coming villain group making some plans. I deduced your location and figured I would come and offer my services.”

The man laughed—more like wheezed—maniacally before hopping down from his barstool to look over Dazai better. Dazai pushed himself up so that he was sitting properly, looking up at his new prospect eagerly.

“And what makes you think I’d let you join?”

“Well, I heard you’ve been picking up just about any willing soul.” Dazai shrugged. “Besides, I’m not useless. I can use a variety of weapons—guns and knives and such—and I’m great at stealth and extracting information. As long as I’m asking questions, I guarantee you’re receiving answers.”

The man marched forward and squatted down in front of Dazai, reaching up with his crusty hands and wrapping a few fingers around Dazai’s neck.

Dazai didn’t know the man’s Quirk—didn’t care, to be honest—but he figured based on context that it was some sort of instant kill kind of thing. He was honestly more bothered by the man’s dead skin getting all over him rather than the highly probable death that awaited him. After all, Dazai’s Ability didn’t work on Quirks. They’d tested it out to be sure.

“Let’s say I do let you join.” The man mused, seemingly enjoying this ‘threatening’ he was doing. “Who’s to say I’ll keep you around after our upcoming game?”

Dazai just grinned. “I can prove to you during said game why I’d be an asset.”

The man seemed to stare at Dazai for a while. “You should be more scared than you are. You don’t even know what kind of danger you’re putting yourself in.”

The man put his other hand out and grabbed one of the barstools. Before the other smoky man could make his noise of protest, the chair had disintegrated.

The man was probably grinning like a fool under his hand mask thing right now.

Simpleton.

“Still want to work with me?” His grip around Dazai’s neck got a little tighter.

Dazai reached up slowly and pressed the man’s fourth finger to his neck, grinning like a madman. The blue-haired man tensed, seeming to pull back slightly.

“Show me how to live,” Dazai said, voice dripping with a morbid eagerness. “By showing me how many others can die.”

Even with his face covered, he could feel the grin that overtook the man before him.

“I’m Shigaraki Tomura.” He took his hand away from Dazai, much to the latter’s disappointment, and stood back up. “Welcome to the League of Villains.”