Chapter Text
An extremely tall, sickly in appearance and manner, man stood in front of screens. Contemplating the scene in front of him curiously, a small smooth smile curving his lips up as he watched the agents remove the boy and his mother. So similar they were, only the very light imprints of the father on the boy, and with very few things that distinguished him from his mother. Even his height mimicked the mother. He, like the man behind the screen, had no visible marks and nothing that would denote a quirk.
Like the man he had been diagnosed quirkless at an early age.
He was watching a video of a young boy with curly green hair. They had something connecting them, he knew it, the boy didn’t. He would never know, it might complicate things, his visage had always been there – shaping him, holding him close and rocking him to sleep in stories. The pale man would ensure that this boy would make a great hero.
Like he did in his youth, even if at the beginning he was pushed into it, the rush of saving people and building the society in his own image, was astounding. He wanted this boy to feel the same addicting rush of power and influence. Wanted to help this boy grow into his own legacy in the light of the sun.
It was the most he could do after his father’s mess. Especially as it seemed to clear that the boy was favoured by his father. Not coddled or told he wouldn’t be able to do nothing because of his powerlessness, not held captive by the possessive nature of a man. Kept free, and loved and happy, while so many have died from his father’s power.
On the other side of the country, and the other side of a screen was an extremely tall, injured in appearance and manner, man sat in front of screens. Contemplating the scene in front of him angrily, an acidic frown curving his lips downwards and curling his eyebrows into a thunderously angry expression, as he watched the agents touch what wasn’t theirs and take away what was his to protect and serve. His face was a patchwork of scars, and the holes where his eyes were before his accident glowed golden from one of the seeing quirks he had managed to scrounge together, one of the many signs that denoted his many quirks.
He was watching a video of a young boy with curly green hair. The boy was his son, their connection was strong not having seen him for years, they both knew it. The scarred man the boy wouldn’t be made a hero, he didn’t need another family member forced into the job.
He could see the fear on both Izuku and Inko’s face. They didn’t know what was going on, they never did and they hopefully never will. Especially not Izuku, Hisashi could not stand if his little boy looked at him with suspicion and fear. He had always been partial to heroes.
It was one of the reasons he kept his distance after the fight, Dr Tsubasa had said to drop contact all together, or bring them into the fold. Give Izuku a quirk, like they wouldn’t bring them to the same awful situation they were in.
His fight with All-Might had been far too close to home as it was. Barely a 20-minute walk from the house they were staying at, the house where Izuku and Inko were now being ejected from unceremoniously.
One car went one way, with Inko in it. The other, with Izuku in, went the other way. Not only were they taking them away, but they were also separating them. Taking a child away from any parent is cruel in most situations, but this was worse. He and his mother were guiltless, and he had made extreme sure of that. If Hisashi had any interest in the law and legality he would have been appalled at the disregard of laws visible here.
How blatantly illegal this was, and this was coming from the so-called heroes. It was a tenant of the underground – one that he had enforced – that children were off limits. His own history was to blame for that, his and his brother who had been bitterly taken in by the early commission.
He supposes this was on brand of their own kind of evil that he was struggling to be surprised by this action. This was why he was opposed to them, who else would try and stop them from stealing children from their parents, from forcing children into the firing lines of their own enemies that they had created.
Hawks for example, the shining example of commission made heroism. Hisashi never thought himself sympathising with the Fallen Angel of all people. But losing a son to the commission was something that had stung the villain deep, and perhaps the man might now accept his summons and offer. As now they had a mutual goal.
Going back to the image of his son, following him and his progress to where he was going through the many techno quirks he had acquired, he followed the car all the way to UA. Because obviously he was being sent there. His guiltless, quirkless son, was already being written in as a villain. Now it was obvious to him that this was connected to him.
No child of a known villain would ever be written as a victim or civilian in the commission’s eyes. Only tools for them to use against the underground. They were brilliant at that, the manipulation, turning a child against everything they knew for heroism. Hisashi was never sure if it was a quirk or what tactic they used. But he had had years, decades, centuries watching it happen. He never expected it to happen to him.
He supposes, he was lucky Izuku was going to UA and not the commission. If he had to trust Nedzu about anything, it would be protecting children. Especially clever ones, children with sparks of intelligence, something that Hisashi was glad Izuku had.
This made sense, the lack of contact, the silence and secrecy. Hisashi hadn’t missed the way his phone – which only Inko and Izuku had access too - had not been called in the last few weeks, hadn’t not noticed how everything to do with him had been seized from the house. No sign of him was given to Izuku, nor left for any casual observer.
Even if this was a ploy to pull him out of hiding, he would get his son back soon.