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All for One, infamous boogeyman of the underworld, felt his non-existent eye twitch as one of his minions slid a stack of forums onto his desk. They were divorce papers. In a matter of moments, said minion became a red smear on the office wall. He had broken out of Tartarus for this nonsense? Seriously?? Made even worse was the fact that, with the aid of search, he found that All Might, kami damn him, and his now ex-wife were constantly spending time together. He had half a mind to head to the apartment complex that he owned and paid for and reclaim what was his.
“Sensei?” A familiar, raspy voice spoke up behind him and he felt the onset of a stress induced headache. The brat was meant to be his successor and potential replacement body. Unfortunately, those damn heroes had broken into the hospital before he could be fully developed, and All for One had to fish the young man out of a decayed crater the size of several city blocks before he could be thrown in Tartarus in a cell next to him. He wanted eventual retirement, and has had his plans foiled at every turn.
“Yes Shigaraki?” he replied, standing up from his chair.
“What happened? I underwent the operation one minute and the next thing I knew-”
“Ah, that. You were awakened several months before you were meant to. That’s why I called this doctor here to-” He glanced at the red stain, realizing that the man in question had been eviscerated in his divorce-papers induced rage, “-No matter, I’ll do it myself, come.”
All for One led Shigaraki down a series of winding hallways and stairs into a room filled with large test tubes and the few Noumu that remained after the raid on Dr. Garaki’s hospital. He stood before one that was open, not yet filled with the preservation fluid that left the Noumu in suspended animation. “Everything should be calibrated properly, if you’ll just step inside, the process will resume.”
Shigaraki scowled, “I’m not doing this for you ,” he clarified, scratching the back of his neck, “This dream is my own, this is just the means to an end.”
If All for One had eyes, he would have rolled them with disdain, instead he said, “Sure, just step into the machine Tomura, or would you like to remain in your half-finished state?”
The young man let out a huff and begrudgingly complied. All for One injected him with enough anaesthetic to subdue a horse and closed the convex glass door. He fiddled with the controls for a moment - he hated being, for all intents and purposes, blind - and soon the tube was filling with preservation fluid as Shigaraki’s upgrades resumed. It was only then, in the greenish glow of the underground laboratory, that All for One realized with some dread that he had months of unfilled time on his hands.
All for One’s first course of action was to break into the bedroom of a young girl on the UA campus. He had, through his various underground contacts, heard of the Overhaul incident. How a man so incompetent had managed to go so far in his plans baffled him. Truly, the state of the hero industry has fallen since his prime. It was not the man’s fanaticism nor his sadism that fascinated him, but rather the child he’d had in his possession that was now under UA’s care. Her quirk, Rewind, was rather interesting with infinite and overpowered applications. He’d be tempted to take it for himself permanently had she not emotionally latched herself to a certain, green haired teen that proved time and time again to be a thorn in his side. It was simple enough to slip through UA’s security in the dead of night, to disable all nearby cameras with a mere flick of his hand. It was a wonder what a technopathy quirk could accomplish.
She was asleep, small face peaceful. He could feel contentment radiating from her. Likely having a good dream, he mused. Gently, All for One placed one of his large hands on her forehead. He borrowed her quirk, and felt his body rewind several years, before his fateful battle with All Might. He couldn’t help the satisfied smile that crept across his face as he opened his eyes for the first time in nearly a decade. Quickly, he returned Rewind to her and used a warp quirk (the same one he used in Kamino) to leave the premises. There was no need to alert the heroes to his restored state. Yet.
At least he’d be able to show up to his divorce hearing in person, though it would take every ounce of willpower he had to not level the courthouse.
All for One was lounging on his couch in his makeshift home and using his phone in an attempt to understand The Youth (which to him, was anyone who wasn’t in a nursing home). On a whim, he installed Tinder, it had been decades since he really got into the dating world. His lover has been villainy, generally being an asshole, and terrorizing aspiring heroes. Having to wait for his plans to unfold was making him restless. Anyways, he was planning to get into politics now that he had his face back, as a way to enact social change without having to deal with a slew of moronic underlings. It didn’t hurt to build the foundations for his retirement, and having at least some people in his life could make him more relatable to the public and help his long term goals. He was planning to use his ex-wife and estranged son for this, but the divorce threw that plan out the window. People don’t tend to trust those who spring into existence seemingly from nowhere. (To be honest, he was just lonely, not that he’d admit it to anyone, especially not himself.)
Where was he? Ah yes, Tinder. As it stood right now, he was swiping through the incredibly vain and shallow app, no one had truly caught his eye. No one that is, until his gaze (and didn’t that feel good to say?) landed on a disheveled man with long dark hair, stubble, and dark undereye circles that stood out against his pale skin. Aizawa Shota, 31. Eraserhead. He was tempted to swipe left on impulse when he paused. Getting close to heroes could be convenient to his political goals. There was no better or more ironic way to take out the hero commission than from within after all, plus it would give him information his underground contacts lacked. Yes, this would do nicely. (And if he found the man’s sleep deprivation and dry sense of humor charming as they spoke through text that night, well, that was just a side benefit.)
They had decided to meet at a nearby cat café that evening, and All for One showed up in his best suit. It was a dark, wine red and chosen to match his eyes. Belatedly he realized he was overdressed when Aizawa showed up in a simple t-shirt and dark jeans. Whoops.
He extended his hand for the other to shake, “Hisashi Kamiya, a pleasure to meet you.” It was absolutely not a pleasure to meet the erasure hero, but Aizawa didn’t need to know that. He couldn’t help but quirk his lips at his own last name. He had chosen it after the divorce, Shigaraki most certainly wasn’t going to fly, especially since his protégé had gained some degree of infamy.
Aizawa nodded, eyes narrowing, as he shook his head, “Aizawa Shota.”
The cat café was a small, square building lined with blue wooden panels. The windows glowed with a warm orange light, and the smell of java floated through the air. The interior was just as quaint, Hisashi noted as he opened the door for the other, among the table and chairs were various cat towers and potted plants. Despite its humble appearance, the café was rather busy this evening, stuffed to the brim with overworked college students and romantic hopefuls. They ordered their drinks (Aizawa ordered a black coffee and Hisashi ordered an espresso with extra foam) and made their way to a small round table in the back corner.
“I just want you to know that I’m married and don’t want to pursue any sort of relationship,” Aizawa began, petting a small orange tabby that somehow already made its way onto his lap.
Hisashi balked at that, but quickly composed himself, “So why are you on Tinder? I assume you don’t take random strangers on dates for the joy of it.”
“I’m here because my students are villain catnip, and I want to make sure they don’t get maimed while they're out and about. Especially that one,” Aizawa gestured to a table across the room from them, “Problem child seems to attract the League of Villains everywhere he goes.”
Hisashi followed Aizawa’s gaze to the table in question and felt himself pale when he saw a familiar mop of curly green hair, his son . He swallowed, trying to ignore the fact that his estranged kid was sitting only fifty feet away. “I can understand that, but why a cat café?” he asked.
Aizawa shrugged, “They’re on a date, plus I like cats.”
He had to do a double take, Izuku was with a boy that had dual toned hair. A date? Seriously? He hardly approved of his son doing such a thing at his young age. Part of him wanted to walk over and drag the teen from his table and out of the café. Instead of making his internal screams external, he smiled saccharinely, “It’s rather thoughtful of you to take time out of your busy schedule for your students, I’m sure it must be hard to juggle hero work and teaching.” And rather creepy. Who pestered and surveilled teenagers in their free time? Other than Hisashi of course, but he was the exception.
Before Aizawa could give him a response, their drinks were set in front of them. The foam on Hisashi’s espresso had been poured in the shape of a smiling cat. He had the sudden, inexplicable urge to launch it at his date and run. Instead, he took a sip, grimacing slightly. Too much sweetener. They sat in an awkward silence, Aizawa didn’t seem like one to make conversation. Somehow the man had attracted more cats to his side.
“So you said you were married?” Hisashi asked, probing for information.
“Mhm, my husband’s name is Hizashi. He’s kind, if a bit much sometimes.” That was an understatement, Present Mic was one of the most obnoxious heroes in the public eye, right after All Might in Hisashi’s books. More awkward silence, and then:
“So Hisashi, what is it exactly that you do for a living?”
He blinked, “Oh, I’m a quirk analyst,” a lie, though quirk analysis was a pivotal part of his job, it had to be with his quirk, “I’ve just always found them interesting. It’s like how inventors feel about electronics, I just can’t help but want to pull them apart and see how they work. ” Hisashi’s grin turned almost predatory at that, and Aizawa tensed. “The first quirk I ever analyzed was a neon quirk, the holder’s sweat glowed in the dark, they were like a walking, talking glow stick.”
Hisashi rambled about quirks for a while (this was the first he’d spoken so much in a long time and the words seemed to gush out of him, like he had to pay some sort of deficit), and Aizawa eventually cut him off, amusement dancing in his dark eyes, “You know, you remind me of one of my students, he’s just as obsessed with quirks as you are.”
He visibly perked up at that, “Really? It’s rare to find someone who shares my interest, most find it creepy.”
The underground hero nodded, then glanced at the clock, “I should probably get going, my students have already left and I’m expected at the police precinct soon.”
Hisashi nodded, reaching to take a sip of his espresso but finding it already drained, “This was fun, even if it didn’t go anywhere,” perhaps this night could be salvaged and still give him some sort of in, “Would you like to catch a drink again some time?”
“No.”
His next date was considerably more disastrous than the first. He had matched with a young woman named Iwata Setsuko. His date in question had admittedly plain features, was a single mother with three children, and looked chronically stressed. She had taken time off from her crammed schedule to have dinner with him at a small Italian restaurant. The restaurant was small, quiet, and made to resemble a courtyard in an Italian villa. At the moment, she sat across from him in the cramped restaurant, honey eyes nervously peering at him from a veil of straight mousy brown hair. Iwata worked as a nurse practitioner in a nearby hospital, and seemed impressed by his extensive medical knowledge. She presumed him to be a doctor of some sort, and while inaccurate he could become one easily with a few forged documents if this proved fruitful.
Throughout the meal, she hardly spoke, leaving him to fill the silence with spun tales and falsehoods. He was telling her a particularly interesting anecdote about South Korea when she abruptly cut him off, “You’ve been lying to me all night.” Fuck.
Hisashi tried to laugh it off, “Now what reason would I have to lie to you?”
“My quirk allows me to read the vital signs of anyone close to me, I don’t know why you’d lie but I can tell you’re full of it.”
His eyes widened, “That’s a rather interesting quirk you have, it’s certainly perfect for your field-”
“Oh shove it, I know you’re deflecting,” She dismissed, a fire lit in her eyes that was previously absent.
He felt something flutter in his chest, he liked a woman with spark, it’s why he’d married Inko after all, and he couldn’t help but think of all the possibilities and applications her quirk had, and how helpful it could be for his goals. So caught up in his fantasies of world domination, was he, that he ignored whatever was coming out of her mouth. It probably was as helpful as white noise, as most mundane people’s words were, “You’re one of the only ones whose ever seen right through me,” he said with a widening grin.
“What?” She replied, confused.
“You know, with you at my side, we could have everything you can dream of! Think of the possibilities as the world crumbles at our feet-!”
He was cut off by Iwata, who was shoving breadsticks into her purse, “Look, it’s been fun but I have to go, my kids are waiting for me at home.”
“Think about my offer, you have my number!” he shouted to her as she rushed out the door, he glanced down at her plate, “She didn’t even finish her meal either.”
Iwata never got back to him, and All for One, dark lord of the criminal underground, was ghosted.
After another series of failed dates, Hisashi was slumped over a bar as Kurogiri, the noumu he had broken out of Tartarus for this sole purpose, awkwardly patted him on the shoulder. “Uh there, there?” he said.
Clearly, this online dating thing was not working, “I don’t even know why I try!” All for One proclaimed dejectedly, “Clearly the public cannot handle their awe of me.”
If Kurogiri had a face beyond a pair of glowing yellow eyes, he would have winced, “Right, well, sir, if it’s my place to give you advice I’d like to do so.”
Hisashi gestured vaguely with his hands, indicating that the sentient black mist should continue.
“Why don’t you go back to what you had before, you were married were you not?” Kurogiri suggested, “Surely it can’t be that hard.”
The supervillain lifted his head from the table, looking as if Kurogiri had just handed him the world, “You know what, you’re right, why don’t I re-enter their lives? They’re mine after all.” All for One stood up, a little drunk, “Kurogiri, if you had a mouth, I could kiss you.”
“Please don’t, sir.”
A few hours later, at some ungodly time in the night, Hisashi was standing outside of the Midoriya apartment, boom box perched on his shoulder, blasting romance music like he was in a shitty 90s romcom. He was oblivious to the lights that began to turn on in windows up and down the street. Using a quirk to artificially project his voice, he shouted, “Inko baby, take me back, I’ll be better I promise!”
Soon he saw an uncharacteristically glaring, plump face in the window. Inko popped it open, slipper in hand, “Hisashi, I swear to god, if you don’t leave right now I’m calling the police, do you know what time it is?!”
“Time doesn’t matter in the face of love,” he replied, “Inko I-” Hisashi was cut off as a slipper hit him square in the face.