Chapter Text
Stormclouds
When you're in hell, only a devil can point the way out.
― Joe Abercrombie, Half a King
"Hey! If it isn't my little buddy, Kurogiri!" Yohan exclaimed when he saw the albino teen with two suitcases. "How's life treating ya'? Excited about your little vacation with yer friends?" the man asks, giving him a sleazy smile.
Oboro, or Kurogiri as he was known by these people, rolled his eyes at the fakeness of his small talk. He knew Yohan didn't like him. He had shown his true feelings before, and he had no doubt he would try to sabotage him today too.
"Skip the pleasantries, Yohan," he tells him, his chin raised high to show he was not scared of the launderer. "Is the transport ready?" Yohan sighs angrily at his lack of fear and makes a gesture to follow him.
"VR is ready to hit the road," Yohan tells him as they walk.
"And the package?" he insists, making the sleazeball roll his eyes.
"It's there too. The key is under the gear shift, and the container is under the VR. Nothing too complicated for you, right kid?" he stops walking when they reach the VR.
It was okay. Not the most fancy, but then again, it would blend in better. It was big enough for Oboro, and his friends could not worry about not finding a place to sleep. Yohan turns to him to hand him the keys, though not before making a jab at his age and his ability to drive. He simply responds with another eye roll. Yohan gives him the keys and leaves him with one of his guys, cleaning one of the windows.
Once Yohan was out of sight, he made his way to the worker. Giran might work for Yohan, but he was more intelligent than the launderer gave him credit for. He, at least, knew when not to piss off the wrong people. The guy was a few years older than him, and he was trying to rise in rank fast.
The two meet on his first dealing with Yohan, giving him a coded message warning him about a metal plaque hidden between the snow. It would have made them get caught, and the blame could have been on him.
"So, whe're you going? Seems like a lot of room for just one," Giran asks, their gazes never leaving the reflection of the glass.
"Me and a few friends got enough money to follow the MCJ," he tells the older boy, pretend to check the RV.
"Well, ain't that something," Giran whistles and then takes a folded note out of one of his pockets. "If you ever pass through the bar- now, what was its name- Oh, the wrong key !- make use to use this," he gives him the note that is too heavy to be just paper. "It will save ya if you ever in a pickle," he winks and puts down his cleaning supplies.
"I will. Thank you," Kurogiri nods and the two share an understanding look.
Now, the albino was no fool. He knew Giran was out here for himself and himself only. But it was nice to know he could have someone on his side, at least for now. Giran hadn't let him down yet, and he would continue to heed his advice. The man wanted a future here, and he knew how to get it. Maybe, in the long run, when his boss grew bored of him and decided to move on to someone else, that someone could be Giran.
He watches as Giran leaves to test if the package is there and if he can get to it before stepping in. He wouldn't put it behind Yohan to mess with it more than Giran could know of. Once everything is alright on the outside, he checks for cameras and other stuff inside. The only thing he finds incriminating is a camera pointed at the only formal bed from the TV. He makes sure to smash the damn thing against the sidewalk on his way out.
As he gets further away from the rental, the teen starts to feel his body un-tensing. It was almost like going through some weird form of transformation. He already had a taste of when he was younger, and he had just met Zashi. Ever since he was born, he had been acquainted with violence and street wars. The Oboro his friends knew and the Oboro he was at home were not the same. Sunshine and smiles didn't belong in his home. He had to be ready to get his hands dirty if he was to survive long enough.
But with Master, it was different. It was more... organized? It wasn't just him and a rusty pipe against the world. He wasn't a child looking out for himself with two useless parents. He was Kurogiri, the messenger of One For All and, according to the rumours, a bad omen for everybody. Because if Kurogiri was near, his Master was close behind.
In reality, he felt trapped in a Dr Jeckyl - Mr Hyde paradox.
He felt the last of his tension leave him as he neared Zashi's house. His moms were fusing over him, probably reminding him about rules or something -he didn't exactly know what good parents did-. As soon as he parks and steps out, the two women greet him warmly and ask him some stuff. He lies through his teeth while Zashi gets his stuff in. Luckily it's not a lot, and they soon leave to pick up the rest of their friends.
"Alright, after we pick everybody, we need to go north. The first concert is going to be at the border between Fukushima, Niigata and Gunma," the blonde tells him as he starts connecting his radio to the VR. Hizashi's job at the radio had been the starting point for this trip. He had connections the rest of their group could only hope for, and if they didn't get the answer through the radio, they were one phone call away from directions.
The next he pick up is Shouta. The guy is alone, and apart from his suitcases and a yellow sleeping bag, he is holding bags upon bags of snacks. His family is not there to see him off, but that isn't weird. They aren't really close and mostly ignore each other. It had been something the two had bonded over time.
As he gets in, Zashi immediately forgets the world around him. The minute Shouta was at viewing range, Zashi's concentration flopped. It was a miracle he was not failing all of his classes since he mostly stared at Shouta during them. Their sleepy friend puts the snacks away in different cabinets of the small kitchen, and then lays on the cab-over bunk, on top of the driver's seat. Oboro keeps his eyes on the road, but Hizashi would end up with horrible neck pain later.
They pick up Kayama, who brings the booze, and Kan, who brings the food, in that order. Then, it's off to the Iida's home.
The thing about their small kohai was that he thought his parents wouldn't let him come. Him? A nerdy, prep guy who always kept his score as high as humanly possible in a tour of Japan, jumping from concert to concert? Iida could already see his parents saying no. The problem was, he never actually asked them. So when they went, ready to use all possible convincing tactics on the couple, they were surprised to find they were alright with it.
"We meet each other through that concert. Why did Tensei think we would say no?" had been Mr Iida's exact words.
And so, after months of planning and not telling Tensei about his involvement, the moment had finally arrived. They were going to kidnap him from his bed, with his parents permission, and they were taking him with them to the concert.
Kan changes places with him, taking the wheel while the rest of them go out and get their kohai. Mrs Iida opens the door, holding a baby in her arms, and lets them in. With Kayama filming everything, they enter the bedroom and find their victim sleeping soundly. It was the first day of summer and too early to awake.
Hizashi wakes him up with a loud noise, his speciality, and Kayama makes sure to get a close up of his waking face. "Guys?" he groggily asks, still confused in his state.
"Young kohai!" Hizashi exclaims, making a dramatic pose. "Today, you are going to start your life as a member of the rooftop gang!" he finger guns at him, but Iida doesn't respond, still dazed with sleep.
"What? Shouldn't you be going to the concert?" he asks as he wipes his sleep off his face.
"We need to pick something up first," Shouta says, cracking his knuckles.
"Huh...?" is the only response Tensei gives them.
"Man, I sure hope you are wearing something underneath that sheet," Oboro comments.
With only that as a warning, the three descend on the poor boy, Shouta and Oboro grabbing a leg, while Hizashi takes hold of his hands. The guy starts screaming and wiggling, not understanding what is going on. They move him out of his bedroom and down the stairs, all while Tensei yells confused and tells them to be careful with the furniture. Kayama films everything and then thanks the Iida's while they give her Tensei's clothes.
"We'll try to bring him back in one piece!" she shouts to them as she gets inside.
Kan doesn't even wait for the door to close to drive off. They have a fun time explaining the situation to Tensei, and the young one laughs it off. He goes to change on what could be considered the bedroom of the RV, which is separated by a screen, and they all just settle. This is the start of their summer. They are going to have a great time, they are going to make mistakes, and it's going to be epic. But for now, they can relax and take a deep breath, free of worries...
... that is until they hear the radio announce the location of the first concert, and Hizashi says that they will be stuck in traffic if they don't get to the freeway now.
Kan speeds up so much that Aizawa rolls out of the over-bunk and ends up on the floor. Kayama and Oboro fall on top of each other on the sofa. And something happens to Tensei if the yelp from the back of the RV are to go by.
To sum up, a great start.
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The tension was high as soon as the truth started to settle in. Kayama seemed to be on the verge of tears, and Hizashi looked pale, as if he had seen a ghost. In some way, he had. Kurogiri was only the last remains of Shirakumo Oboro, the broken pieces of a boy who was unable to escape his situation. Many times had he thought he could leave and get a better life, a legal one. But he couldn{t. There was something more important than just himself.
"Well, guess that explains it. Go home now," he says, checking his watch and heading away.
"Wow, wow! Where do you think you're going?" Hizashi yells, reaching for his gloved hand, but he pulled away before he could touch him. Old habit, he supposes. "You can't just re-appear like a fucking ghost and not explain a few things! We mourned you! I cried for you day and night, thinking how things could have been if I had paid more attention or ask you to move in with my moms!" Hizashi exclaims, trying not to sound hurt at the situation. He fails, and so do the others at hiding their pain.
"It would not have made a difference if you knew or not. And neither does knowing my current situation now," the bartender tells them, his voice as monotonic as possible. "As far as anyone is concerned, Oboro is dead. His parents killed him to get a hold of 0.5 grams of neuron killing snow. That is the truth, and it shall remain that way," he turns around again.
"So we're just supposed to forget about you?" Kayama interrupts, her tears wiped dry.
"Ideally," he starts walking away, but the three follow after him.
"Well, that can't happen," Aizawa states. "You are our friend-"
"I was," he corrects him.
"Still! You were one of us. We know you. You were the type of guy who would help anybody without giving it a second thought. We can still be friends-"
"We can't," he interrupts again.
"Why Not!?" Zashi finally snaps.
"Because that was in the past!" he exclaims, turning around to see them. The street suddenly goes quieter, as his old friends look surprised at his outburst. He exhales angrily before continuing. "There was an us, but that was before. Things change, priorities change. You have perfect lives now, two kids, a house and a stable job that brings you joy. So, live them and stop chasing for the past," he leaves them with that, going back to the bar. They don't follow him, so Kurogiri knows his point was made.
When he steps inside Black Mist, it is to an unusually silent crowd. He doesn't look up to anybody, unwilling to deal with their intrigue faces. He knows they heard him. But the how much will be something to worry about in the morning. The people inside are his new family, the one fate had given him, and the one he cherished every day. It was too early for the usual drunks or thugs to arrive.
"Twice," he calls, his voice cutting through the thick tension. "Would you mind taking tonight's shift and moving your free night to tomorrow?" he asks. The blonde man must have understood his mood and unwillingness to tend to people because he accepts immediately. "Thank you. I will see you all tomorrow morning," he departs.
Using the back door, he climbs up the stairs to his apartment. He feels a hundred years old. Shouta, Hizashi and Kayama suddenly springing on him left him drained. He just hoped they stayed away. It was easier and better that way. He had learned long ago that the past was history, and one could never go back to it. Now, it was up to them to figure that out.
He starts making himself a scotch on the rocks to calm his nerves when rapid and consecutive knocks interrupt him. He knows it's Toga, and when he opens the door, he finds her unmovingly staring at the floor. Before he can ask her what she is doing there, the words are knocked out of him as she collapses onto him. She wraps her arms around him and buries her face on his white shirt.
It's a simple hug, but the amount of care and love their little vampire can convey with it is astronomical. It helps remind him of his present and assure him of his words. Priorities change, and this is only one that not Oboro nor Kurogiri will ever change.
"Thank you, darling," he whispers as he holds her, and she squeezed him tighter.
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He never saw it coming.
It happened two days after completing his entrance exam at UA through recommendation, when he was taking out the trash. He never did it near their house but instead went a few blocks down to where a small clothes' factory had trash containers. Mostly because trash wasn't picked up in his street. But he was also disposing of some clearly illegal stuff. None of them were his, but he was not willing to risk it being tracked down to him. UA was his first step at living this fucking place, and he was not going to let his parents ruin that too.
Just as he left the bags on the container, somebody grabbed him from behind. They took hold of his arm and the collar of his shirt, pulling him backwards. It happened so fast he almost fell to the ground. But then, before he could retaliate, another person entered his line of sight and punched him square in the face. They did it one more time, in the stomach, to which he doubled over in pain. Next, they placed a bag over his face and dragged him away, kicking and screaming.
He couldn't see anything, but he clearly heard a car screeching to a halt before he was thrown like a sack of potatoes. Once he landed painfully god-knows-where, the cold metal of a knife was pressed against his neck over the bag. A deep voice told him to stay still, or they would slit his throat, so he complied. They tied his wrists together behind his back, the knife never leaving his throat.
He only realized he was in a car when he felt the floor he was on start moving. He didn't know how long it took, his fear clouding his sense of time. Where were they taking him? Why were they? He hadn't done anything, and he didn't know anything. He was just a teen, not even in high school yet. So what could they possibly want with him? They weren't going to kill him yet, or they would have done so by now. But why waste so much time?
The car suddenly stopped, and he heard a voice say something about 'the boss'. It wasn't the same one as before, so maybe it was the driver's. He then hears a gate opening, and the car starts once more. It doesn't go on for much, and a few seconds later, he is being shoved out of the vehicle he was. He is guided by two hands on his shoulders, doors opening and floor creaking the only thing he can hear.
Suddenly, he is stopped and pushed down on a chair, and they undo his binds. The bag is lifted from his head abruptly, blinding him for a second. When he opens his eyes, he is in a study room, sitting in front of a man behind a table with documents. The furniture is old but in a classy way, and the man waits until he is done panting to speak.
"Good Evening, Mr Shirakumo," he greets him politely. He doesn't like it. "I hope my Nomus treated you well," the man makes a pause as if waiting for an answer. Was he supposed to?
"They were... quite rough," he answers.
"I see," the man chuckles. "I truly apologize about them, but they had their reasons to be violent," the man takes one of his documents and stands up from his chair. "According to the accounts of my distributors, you have attacked everyone who dares come near your home," he tells him, walking around the table and behind him. Oboro doesn't dare move from his spot. "One of them even recounts you, threatening him to end his life if he came back," he finishes, and Oboro feels his hand behind him, on the back of the chair.
Oboro remembers. One night, he simply snapped. He needed to control his parents finances, or they would spend it all on drugs. But one day, after hanging out with Zashi, he learned they somehow found his hiding spot. He promptly took charge and kicked the dealer out of his house. From then on, he made his parents go to rehab and then started to beat up all dealers away from his block. The one he threatened was particularly stubborn. He kept coming back and even followed him one time.
"I won't deny I have done that," he tells the man, gulping down the knot on his throat. "But I won't lie and say I'm sorry," he admits.
The man hums and walks back to his chair, his eyes still concentrating on the document. He then leans down behind his table and opens a cabinet. Oboro can't see him, but he hears him shuffle a few papers before coming back up with a folder.
"I must admit, Mr Shirakumo, when I learned of your actions, I thought nothing of it," the man tells him as he opens the folder. "You were just a child trying to play hero for your parents. Something that wouldn't last since they would just keep getting more. But then kept doing it. Dealer after dealer, until nobody wanted to work your block. That's when I decided to look into it," he suddenly meets gazes with him.
"You impress me, Mr Shirakumo," he compliments him. "You have taken the situation onto your hands and tried to make the best out of it. You have put your parents in rehab countless times. Your grades, while they could do better, are extraordinary for somebody in your situation. You are a self-taught cook and administrator, being the man of the house. You applied to UA, and by the looks of it, most likely to get accepted in. You are determined, intelligent and adaptable. And it's just want I have been looking for lately," he says.
"Excuse me?"
"You see, my personal assistant has been... fired recently. He was doing stuff he shouldn't, and I can't give someone like that such responsibilities,"
"And you think I won't?"
" I think you are smarter than that. You are only a teenager, so you depend on your parents to earn money. And with their consumption problem, I don't think they will be able to maintain their jobs for long. Your age and studies won't let you find high paying jobs, not without affecting your education. This you will be able to do from your school, and it will come with many bonus benefits,"
"What benefits?"
"Protection. For you and your parents. You have made few enemies with your actions, and my power will be able to protect you from them. As for your parents, I can have them blacklisted by the main branches of crack houses. Dealers won't even think about going near them,"
Oboro does what he can to keep his face neutral. What this man is offering is the opportunity of a lifetime. But he can't let that show. He is dangerous. He kidnapped him so he could offer him a job as a secretary. Not only did it speak volumes of the power he had, but also the lengths he would go to get what he wants. If he accepted, it would be a dangerous game he would be playing.
"What- what would my job entail?" Oboro asks. He needs more information if he is to survive this.
"Mainly, you would be a communication link between me and my cells. I might ask you to look up some information for me or arrange a few meetings and dropoffs. Maybe look over some documents or numbers to check if they are in order. The only issue which could cause a problem might be your lack of a driving licence. But I can pay for lessons. With your smarts, you will be behind the wheel in no time," the man explains.
"So, do we have an arrangement?" the man asks and slides a pen and contract to him.
"What's your name? I would like to know who I might be working with," Oboro asks.
"You may call me Shigaraki Hisashi, or Mr Shigaraki, if you will. But the name you might know me for is another. One for All," he tells him, and Oboro feels shivers go down his back.
There isn't one person who hasn't heard of One for All. It's the title of the leader of all crime syndicates, the man in charge of the unlawful underworld. He was so surreal some people didn't even believe he was real. They thought of him as a boogeyman, someone you told about to your kids to scare them into behaving. And Oboro was in front of him and about to enter into his employment.
Willing down his nerves, he took the pen offered to him and signed the contract. It felt like selling your soul to the devil. Mr Shigaraki took the contract and archived it with some other papers before securing it in a cabinet. He then stood up and walked right to him. Oboro almost jumped out of his chair when the man extended his hand. The teen copied his movement and shook the overlord's hand. Not before trying to clean some sweat of it, though.
"Well, since that is settled, why don't I give you a lift home?" One for All comments, gesturing to a door behind them. Oboro only nods.
They walk through the giant house, Mr Shigaraki guiding him, until they reach the garage. There are a few cars inside, but Mr Shigaraki takes him to a large, black one where an old man is waiting. He opens the door for them, and Oboro steps in after One for All, sitting in front of him.
His new boss talks to him all throughout the trip back home, explaining more in detail his new job as One for All's personal assistance. He also gives him an expensive, last model phone he has to use to work. It already has some numbers saved, and it's coded so that police can't track him. Mr Shigaraki makes him replace all the old passwords in front of him and write them all down for him. They finish just in time for the car to arrive at his home.
Oboro steps out of the car, ready to fall into bed and sleep for a year. But, before he can take even one step, Mr Shigaraki stops him. "Mr Shirakumo," the passenger's window lowers, revealing the face of his new boss. "In this market, anonymity is very important. I don't think that Shirakumo Oboro, a UA student, should be rumoured of having business with illicit contracts. So, what should my new assistant's name be?" the man says.
"... Kurogiri," he answers after a pause.
"Well, then, good night, Kurogiri," he says.
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"Good night, sweet pea. Have lovely dreams," Hizashi said as he tucked Eri into bed.
"Good night, Papa. I'm happy you're back," the girl yawns and closes her eyes, starting to daze off.
Hizashi smiles at her and kisses her forehead before stepping out of her room. He then checks on Hitoshi's room and tells the teen to put his phone down and sleep. Hitoshi grunts and mumbles that he'll do it in a minute. Still, the blonde goes inside and gives his eldest son a good night kiss on the forehead. The teen rolls his eyes and puts the phone down before laying back on his bed.
Hizashi goes downstairs after, finding his husband and Nemuri cleaning the kitchen. After the whole bar-thing, the three returned to their home, bringing pizza with them. They luckily arrived before Hitoshi started cooking dinner.
The kids had been happy. Their parents had never fought that much, and his hasty leave had left them worried and scared. Now that everything was resolved, the two could breathe easier. Eri didn't leave his side the entire night, and Hitoshi sat next to him to show how much he missed him, in his own edgy, teenager way.
He was glad to be back home. It had been the worst fight he and Shouta had, and they still had to deal with it. But with how the night had gone, with this old player back, he would love to just put it in the back of his mind.
Nemuri left without a goodbye, too shocked by the nights events. She had been quiet all throughout dinner and had a hunted look in her eyes. It was weird to see. She was always full of energy and was the one who tried to keep their group of friends together the most. What might be going on her head at the moment, he couldn't possibly know.
When she is gone, Shouta wraps his arms around him, embracing him tightly. "I missed you," he whispers as he puts his head at his neck. Hizashi holds him too, and the two stay there for a while, trying to keep the sad thoughts away, to bask in this peaceful moment.