Chapter Text
Mist escaped his mouth as Izuku sat in the metal chair, his skin pale, hair white with the occasional peppering of pink breaking up the undercut he sported. If one looked closer, they would find the occasional red strand. As he relaxed in the interrogation room, lit by the harsh white LED lights of the sparse space, his angelic appearance belied a façade of calm before the storm. Heterochromatic blue and grey eyes seemed to glow, much like his unblemished snow-white complexion, mostly hidden by the tight-black attire he wears, armoured lightly. Evidence of a fight is clear to see in the rips and tears, that show lines of blood from shallow superficial cuts, not that they seem to bother the teenage boy, who remains in his cuffs, one slightly frosted leg casually crossed over the other, completely at ease.
“You might as well talk while you can, Frost. It’ll help your case.”
A silent puff of chilled air escapes his mouth as his bored expression remains, his face bare of his usual mask, which rests innocently between the pair, cracked and chipped, broken but fixable. The empty black void of it’s ruined eyes glare back at him, while the rhythmic pen tapping hits the neatly placed file. “Not happening, Polygraph.”
A calloused hand drops the pen and picks up the file, gaze remaining locked with the teenage boy’s own mixed irises, brown clashing with a swirl of ice-blue and slate-grey. His words fall from his mouth, reciting from memory all that is written on the report, voice firm and controlled. “Alias, Frost. Age, in his teens or early twenties. Quirk, emitter, allows him to generate and manipulate ice. Known crimes, illegal quirk usage, battery, assault, vandalism, robbery, breaking and entering, blackmail.”
Tilting his head, the blank faced boy kept up the stare-down, ignoring the hidden glares watching him through the one-way mirror, burrowing into his right side, like hands sinking into wet clay. “Am I supposed to be impressed, Detective?”
Tossing the file down, a flash of smugness shines in those glowing orbs when the Detective drops his stare, finger pressing into the pictures scattered before him like broken china. The light swiftly disappears from his narrow eyes, defaulting to their barred windows, curtains drawn back over their rails. Deciding to humour the Detective, the young boy looks down, taking in the destruction, of him standing above it, like a King, high up on his throne, smile wide but as sharp as a knife, eyes alive and burning, as he rains down his fury. A vengeful Okami upon his subjects.
“What brought you to this?” For a moment, something writhed under his mask, glowing eyes dimming, as his lips fell flat. “You started off with vandalism, to promote equality, however delinquent-like graffitiing Endeavor billboards and Hero agency buildings is. Your heart was in the right place. But this, attacking and using your quirk, putting people in danger? Where did that come from?”
“…” Keeping silent, the young boy remained staring at the Detective, lips firmly sealed shut, even as the Detective emphatically glared into his unreadable eyes, grip tightening on his pen and notepad. “Did your motive change, or was this always what you wanted? To be feared, to hurt others – to be a true Villain?”
The young boy huffed, cuffed hands rising, before the chains aborted his arms crossing. Dropping them back onto the metal table, he instead trades legs, throwing his left over his right. Behind the glass, an inhuman snout bears canines, before patting the tall, rugged figure of the tired man on the shoulder, face partially obscured by the grey capture-weapon wrapped loosely around his neck like a scarf. Flat black eyes remain on the teen’s figure, impassive, but follow the unspoken command, silently leaving the observation room like a Ghost, at one with the shadows.
“Did that strike a chord, Frost?” To the young boy’s credit, he didn’t even flinch at the arrival of the being that entered the room, standing upon the Eraser Hero’s shoulder, beady black eyes focused entirely on the young boy. “It did, didn’t it?” Hopping off his sleep-deprived taxi, the animal dressed up like a person landed on the table. “You must have known one before all of this.” His paw gestured lightly over the young boy, whose guarded eyes heavily landed on the animal. “I forgot to introduce myself. Am I a mouse, a dog, a bear?” His lips pull back, revealing a razor-sharp row of teeth. “I am Nedzu, the Principle of UA.” Pressing his paws together, one of the smartest beings on Earth stared down the young boy, faux geniality in his tone, disguising the threat unspoken. “Now why don’t you tell the Detective who hurt you, Frost.”
Jaw fluttering, a chink in his carefully crafted image, the young boy’s narrowed eyes ruefully narrow further. “… You already seem to know. Why bother.”
Calculated solid black eyes gleam under the white lights, that leave shadows in the corners where the apparition slinks into, long arms loosely crossing in projected relaxation. A more scrutinising appraisal would show the man’s distrustful stare, guard up high and body vigilant. Always prepared for a fight.
“Very well, Frost. Or should I say, Todoroki Izuku.”
Brown eyes blow wide, as they snap over to the high-specs user, before reeling back the shock, dawning realisation cresting the waves as they crash through him, washing up with the pieces to fill in the blanks. Cold fury blazes in the boy’s eyes, aimed at the hybrid looking down on him, whiskers twitching ever so slightly at the raw emotion he’d uncovered. The storm he’d started.
“My name is Fubuki.”
“That’s a lie.” The shadow bluntly states, half-lidded eyes carefully analysing the young boy. “And I don’t need to have a lie-detecting quirk to see it.” Attention falls back onto the hybrid, who produces a new file, one simply titled, Case #501392MP, Todoroki . I
“Now.” His canines catch eerily in the light, tail swishing to the side as his foot taps the file he’d dropped down. “What would make one of the youngest children of the current Number Two Hero run away from his home and commit crimes?”
White knuckles turn whiter as his fists tighten, before the young boy opens his mouth, resent shining in his eyes as they remain on the creature that has him pinned down. “You must really be bored to listen to what you already know, instead of throwing me in a cell, rat .”
“You won’t be going to jail, Todoroki-kun. I have already spoken with the Police and the Commission.” Freezing, the boy stares down the rat, dread dropping like a stone in his stomach, as the creature continues. “They agreed that it would be a waste of your talents to throw you in a juvenile prison. Which is why you will be joining our recently created Rehabilitation Program at UA, designed to make Villains and Vigilantes into the next generation of Heroes.” Recovering, Izuku faintly sneers, lips pulling back to reveal pearly-white teeth, a white puff of cold air floating up and dissipating. It causes the Principal’s smile to widen, jaws opening to reveal more of his carnivorous teeth. “There is still the potential for Heroism in you, Todoroki-kun .”
Flexing his hands, the young boy’s eyes blow a tempest in their depths, a raging storm aimed at the most intelligent being in the room, who continues to watch the boy, paws now folded before it, a picture of composure and control. “I’ll kill all of them if I have to.”
A pen taps twice, and the tall shadow shifts. “Another lie.” The Principal replies, subtly moving away from the boy, who tenses. “You lack the conviction to kill another person, even the person you hate most in this world.”
“I’ll make you regret this.”
Stepping forward, the hybrid’s eyes gleam as he pulls out a device from his pocket. “I look forward to it, Todoroki-kun.”