Chapter Text
Hanta Sero was not, what most people would consider, an extraordinary person. His quirk, though versatile, was not very flashy, and his physique, apart from his large, bulky elbows, was normal and completely average. He was someone you would pass on the street on your way to somewhere, and forget in the span of two seconds. His face was one you could find anywhere, a dollar store smile almost constantly plastered on. His hair, though soft, was nothing out of the ordinary, messily combed back into some semblance of a mullet, or, if it was especially hot outside, pulled up into a sloppy bun or ponytail.
As said, Hanta Sero was not the kind of person you would think to look twice at. Though this may help in some situations, perhaps not in the highly prestigious world of heroics, where image and recognizability were everything. A face like Sero’s would merely be brushed aside, lost in the masses presented by the press, while those with flashy quirks or outstanding looks would prosper.
No one’s sure what happened, or why it did, and if you asked him, he wouldn't be able to tell you either. But, one day, Hanta Sero died. And what rose from the ashes was something which would grow to be hated by many, feared by most, and seen by all.
~~~
Undisclosed Location: 10 months prior to UA Entrance Exam
“Hey, brat, you're late”, A hoarse voice growled, muffled as if obstructed by something. In the dim lighting of the bar, it was tough to make out the source. A figure stepped into the dim lighting of the dingy room. A black surgical mask, printed with a mocking smile, covered the figure’s face. A dark blue hoodie, pushed up over large, round shaped elbows, covered jet-black, swept back hair, a white stripe running down the arms. Black sweatpants covered long legs, two orange stripes running down the sides.
“Yeah, yeah. Now, did you call me here just to chat, or do you have some work for me”, the figure growled, an impatient lilt accenting a masculine voice. The sharply dressed figure standing behind the bar, seemingly made of black mist, put down the glass it had been drying. “Sharp-tongued as always, Garotte. We do indeed have a job for you”, The mist figure produced a newspaper clipping from thin air, and lay it on the polished wood, pushing it towards Garotte. The blaring headline read “All Might to Teach At UA?”.
“... I’m listening”, Garotte murmured, pulling out a barstool and sitting down. The hoarse voice gave a sharp, barking laugh, before speaking in hushed tones,“As you know, the League of Villains has an… interest in All Might. Now that he’s a teacher, the game has finally gotten more interesting. I'll skip the flavour text, we need an inside man.”
Garotte looked up, surprise flashing in his hooded gaze. His hand balled into a fist, before uncurling. “And what do I get out of it?”, He asked cautiously, careful so as not to betray any hint of emotion in his tone. The mist figure produced a briefcase, and with a click and a hiss, it opened, revealing multiple stacks of various yen bills inside. “In addition, we will cover the expenses for any gear you may need for classes and… extracurricular activities”, The mist figure spoke, its voice masculine and deep.
“... And if I refuse?”, Garotte inquired, tapping his finger on the wood of the bar, an impatient gesture. The hoarse voice quieted for a second, before breaking into raucous laughter, “Well, I suppose we’ll have to find someone to replace you. It’s not a problem for us, we have plenty of villains at our disposal.”
Garotte quieted at this, all action halted, including the tapping of his finger. Though obstructed by the mask, a smile widened across his face, and he looked up, a cold gleam in his eye. “I accept your proposition, Shigaraki”, He held out his hand, and was pleased to have his handshake reciprocated, the tall, skinny, pale-haired villain stepping into the light.
“Here is your new identity.” The mist villain spoke plainly, sliding forward a thin folder. Garotte opened the file, and looked upon his new face. With a snap of his wrist, he closed the folder, grabbing the suitcase as he turned around. “This had better not be a mistake”, He growled as he opened the door leading to the outside world.
“Oh trust me, it won’t be…”, Shigaraki whispered, leaning his elbow on the bar.
~~~
UA, Day of Entrance Exam
The building was obscenely large. He knew UA was a big school, and had seen pictures, but seeing it in person was completely different. The 4 towers, connected by walkways, stood well over 20 stories tall, and he could only imagine what the interior was like, with there needing to be modifications made for every quirk under the sun.
Hanta sighed, and stepped forward, just wanting to get out of the oppressive heat. Hearing a commotion, he glanced to the side, where a curly, green haired boy cowered in front of a taller, spiky blond. Hanta rolled his eyes, turning his focus back to the school in front of him. He opened the door, surprised at how light it was, despite being so large, and stepped into a pristine white room.
“Yo! You here for the entrance exam too?” A loud voice rang out. ‘No shit, idiot’, Hanta thought to himself, looking around for the source of the commotion. Seeing a medium height, strong looking, spiky haired redhead walking towards him, he begrudgingly raised a hand in greeting, trying to stay in character.
“I wonder what they’ll have us do? I know there's a written portion and all, but what about that practical?” The boy continued, sticking his hand out in a friendly greeting. “I'm Kirishima Eijirou, by the way.” Hanta took the offered hand, giving it a firm, courteous shake. “Hanta Sero, good to meet you, Kirishima.” The redhead gave a blinding smile, and Hanta noted how his teeth were sharpened, almost like a shark.
A loud, blaring buzzer noise interrupted any further conversation, and the two turned their attention to the front of the room, where a door was opening up. A figure stepped out, dressed in all black, some kind of… scarf wrapped around their face. Hanta knew who it was, what self respecting villai… no, fan, he reminded himself, didn't know who Eraserhead was, and his relationships, and his quirk, and…
“Alright, check your testing cards and go to the room number assigned on your card” Eraserhead spoke, his voice weary, even when amplified through the loudspeakers in the room. Hanta checked the card that had been mailed to him 2 days prior. On the card was a picture he had taken and send in himself, his name, a few other details (all faked, of course), the number 3, and the letter C.
“What room are you in?” Kirishima whispered, leaning over Hanta’s shoulder. “Ahh, darn. I’m in room two. Looks like we have the same letter though! Whatever that means.” Hanta nodded in agreement, turning and walking towards the door marked with a large “3”, privately joyous that he wouldn't have to spend more time with the obnoxious redhead.
Hanta took his seat quickly, managing to find one in the back, where he wouldn’t be disturbed. He watched as the 18+ Hero, Midnight, walked into the room, and, with a crack of her whip, demanded everyone’s attention. She passed out tests quickly, and outlined the rules of the testing period. Unfortunately, a life of villainy didn't lead to much academic intelligence, but he hadn't spent the entire 10 month period before the entrance exam doing nothing. He’d always had a knack for remembering things, and knew about as much as everyone else in the room.
As soon as he finished, he stood up, striding to the center of the room and handing in his paper. While he wasn't the first one done, he wasn't the last, and was satisfied with his answers. After handing his test to Midnight, he walked back out into the lobby area, and to the other side of the room, where a large door marked “AUDITORIUM” stood. He opened the door and took his seat, not even bothering to look up as Kirishima sat next to him. All of his attention was focused on the brochure in front of him, where he read and reread he information about the practical test, then smirked.
This will be fun.