Chapter Text
“Hey, Mina, are we actually getting a transfer today?” A boy with spiky red hair excitedly spoke to the girl who sat next to him, eyes sparkling. The pink-skinned girl nodded: “Apparently!”
“First it was Shinsou and now we’re getting another? Our class is getting pretty big." A girl with plugs for earlobes added.
A blonde nudged the red-head with his elbow, eyebrows flicking as he whispered: “Wouldn’t it be great if we got a girl, Kiri?” He suggested with a voice of expectancy.
“Really, does it have to be a girl?” A brunette sighed, watching the two. “Ochaco has a point Kaminari,” The girl next to her nodded disappointedly. “This class is filled with great girls but you still look for more, kero.”
Tsuyu’s words made the blonde panic as he scrambled to explain himself: “Haa, that’s not–”
Unfortunately for him, his words were cut short by a familiar voice. “Everyone return to your seats! Mr. Aizawa is here!” Iida announced, waving his hands around while the students arranged themselves; the quiet, introverted ones in the room simply watched idly.
The class went silent once the door violently whipped open with a whoosh, startling a few unprepared teens. “Mr. Aizawa?” A girl named Momo called out with concern. Confused, the class focused on what was happening at the front of the room, revealing their teacher who looked frustrated and annoyed, holding an arm whose owner stood just outside their view, pulling back and refusing to come inside.
Looking closer, they could see that their teacher’s black eyes had turned red, indicating that his quirk was in use. In response, the stranger with an irked voice protested. “Jesus, you’re giving me the shivers - I won’t do anything to your kids. Stop that,”
A groan entered their ears, followed by the same unkind voice coming from outside. “Do I really have to?” It argued. Their tone of voice was neither feminine nor masculine, peaking the curiosities of the students who sat.
“Stop complaining and get inside.” Their teacher insisted with scrunched eyebrows, finally deactivating his Quirk, pulling on the arm.
A sigh flew out the stranger’s mouth, stepping into the classroom bitterly.
The classroom went deathly silent, all attention going to the boy who walked in front of the board with a blank expression.
They finally focused on his features, only to have their breaths taken away.
The newcomer was a short one, too short to be someone of their age, surely. But his height only added to his youthful appearance. The boy was a greenette with tufts of fluffy hair that peeked out of his loose jacket’s hood. He wore U.A’s male uniform, only differing from the rest of the students with a black-tie inside of their usual red.
What was remarkable was this boy’s face. His skin was akin to white snow, flushed by a tinge of pink. Big green doe eyes that exuded a sense of purity and innocence, reflecting the light that shone down from their windows; they were comparable to those of clear dewdrops.
If it wasn’t for his uniform, these classmates would’ve confused him for a girl! A very… cute one, in fact.
The students saw him grab a stick of chalk. Under the watchful eyes of their teacher, they usually wouldn’t dare make a peep, but a few quiet sighs and giggles escaped their mouths as they observed the stranger’s lean build stretch across their view, writing down the kanji’s of his name on the board.
“Introduce yourself.” Eraserhead's stern voice commanded, looking displeased at how his students were reacting to the newcomer.
He internally sighed, “It’s happening again.”
After a moment, the voice spoke once again. It sounded bored with hints of disinterest. “I am Midoriya Izuku.” The students listened carefully as they silently swooned. “I’m from abroad and moved here in U.A to– uh,” The boy’s green eyes glanced at the teacher beside him who gave him a firm look.
“To reform my morals and reach for a brighter future.” He continued, the words sounded pre-rehearsed as they stiffly left his mouth through clenched teeth. The students suddenly felt that something was amiss.
“You forgot to mention something,” Shouta talked, casually remarking as if taunting him.
The classroom was silent as the students watched that soft hand place chalk down on the teacher’s desk, his brilliant green eyes rolling at the hero’s attitude.
His next few words smacked the air out of their lungs.
Izuku spoke simply: “I’m a villain.”
The assistant cautiously approached the open window of the black van. Tightening his voice as he spoke: "Reporting. The workshop has been demolished but the police haven't found the stash of blood vials. Requesting instruction to proceed."
The only thing that separated them was a dark green curtain made of velvet. A low chuckle could be heard from behind it; a hint of mockery intertwined with the voice. The assistant felt a drop of sweat drip down from his forehead as his throat closed up in fear.
In a split second, the head of a gun suddenly appeared in front of him. Before he could even compose his thoughts, the gun clicked. His eyes went wide.
"I don't appreciate snitches."
An ear-piercing gunshot was the last thing he heard before his head hit the cement.
Birds screeched as they scurried away from the branches of the surrounding trees, shaking the leaves that hid the small worksite composed of a skimpy plywood building. It was only recently that the state’s police found the underground cellar where the real filth flourished.
It was a fresh, breezy day in the countryside. "Too bad I won't get to appreciate it."
Inside the vehicle, Deku sighed wistfully sighed as a small frown adorned his flushed youthful cheeks. After rolling up the window, he took a handkerchief and wiped the silver handgun clean; staining the white cloth red with the blood that splattered onto the metal.
"Pity that he still tried to act clean after selling me out. Might've kept him alive otherwise," He whispered in a low voice, busying himself with tidying up.
"Computer, start the car." He called, a beep then sounding from the car's speakers.
With a simple command, the vehicle began to move on its own as it began to traverse the empty decapitated streets, leaving the body of his ex-assistant dead on the road.
Today was a special case where the boss himself had to leave his safe ground to check up on matters from one of his Quirk vial operations.
Yes, you read that right. Quirk vials.
He wasn't the top second villain for nothing. The general public only knew that he was a villain that simply killed people for no apparent reason. But to select heroes and villains, they knew him as the man who sold Quirks.
Quirk harvesting was a well-worth business venture! It sold up to millions of dollars in the black markets for a single vial so it was only natural for him to take a trip all the way to the states for a technical error check-up.
But who would've known that this was another assassination attempt? A very carefully plotted out one, in fact. Deku had his ideas as to who might’ve wanted him dead but it wasn't any use to think of it now.
He knew the window of time to escape had already closed. It seemed that this operation was already pre-planned like they were waiting for the right moment to execute it. He pondered to himself who might have devised such an astute plan. Perhaps someone with an intelligence Quirk? Good for them.
At this moment, Deku was essentially walking to his death; but he didn't mind.
Instead of breaking teeth and struggling, he decided that today, he'd finally give in to their tactics. He was a bit tired, admittedly. Five years of crime can really drain the life out of someone.
He thought back on his short life. Shoved into orphanages, scraping for food, even suicide attempts. But those times didn't matter. Today, he was a formidable supervillain who ended lives and drowned in money. He was on the top of the food chain and he couldn't see his life getting any better than this.
At a mere 15 years young, not only was he one of the richest men in the world, but he was also one of the most feared. He had his fair share of fun and didn't mind ending it now.
The legend of Deku would end marvelously! He thought. The public would lose a threat and he could get his closure: a win-win.
The boy stuffed the gun back into its hard case. He was approaching the state's border where he estimated the attack would occur.
Deku waited. To his side, his gaze watched a machine that operated with a low mechanical hum. His face grew ugly.
His pale arm laid numb at his side, strung to the machine through once clear tubes that were now permanently stained with his own blood. A sigh - tethered with a slight hint of relief - escaped his lips. His gloved hand began to carelessly pull out the strings of red plastic, ignoring the drops of blood that bloomed on his milky white skin once the needles detached from his body. “I won’t be needing this anymore I suppose.”
Laying back on the seat, he breathed out a sigh of expectancy, prepping mentally for the shot to come. As one last goodbye to this world, he rolled down the window and pulled the curtains back. He felt the wind hit his skin, complex emotions filling his heart.
First the first time in his villain career, he shows his face to the world.
Free and without restriction, he decides to let go of his usual bossy façade. He smiled softly. Hints of regret and somber blooming on his face. Underneath all the crimes - underneath his villainy - he was still a child.
And ultimately, it would be his saving grace.
Without the curtains blocking his view, his eyes scanned the passing blur of abandoned buildings around the cracked asphalt street. With his sharp eyes, he spots a quick bright flash of light that reflected the sun from the atop a tower.
"Ah. There you are."
The smile still on his pink lips, he indulged in self-pity. He was the only one who could mourn his death, there was no one around but himself.
Knowing that the sniper had precise aim on his figure, he mouthed: "Make this quick, please?"
There was a bit of a delay, but a few seconds later, a bullet comes whirring down towards him. But not to his head or heart--- but to his neck?
Immediately once it penetrated his skin, he felt a cool liquid sensation spreading through the side of his neck. That was no ordinary bullet.
He touched the side where it hit him with his gloved fingers, his sight becoming blurry as seconds passed. He chuckled just before his vision went blank: "That's one strong tranquilizer."
The venue was tense and heavy. Pro-heroes sat at their respective chairs, their faces serious and cautious. Some were chatting, some were silently resigned. All in all, the atmosphere was as thick as tar.
Everyone inside the room were registered top heroes. Some were local, some came from the far-away prefectures of Japan. This was an event that required the collaboration of heroes across hundreds of agencies and companies; they’ve sent their best of the best - all they needed now was careful proceedings and vigilance.
The ring of the sound system disturbed the stuffy venue, inviting their attention to the stage where they saw a group of influential figures standing.
“They’ve really gone all out,” The crowd thought to themselves.
A short animal creature, known as pro-hero Nedzu, approached the microphone and greeted them with a mannerly voice: "Good morning heroes! We, the Musutafu protective forces, are thankful for your time and efforts to attend this assignment today.”
“As we all know, the responsibility of imprisonment of a code black villain has been cordially transferred by the World Heroes Administration to our Japanese governing. We ask for full cooperation from all the heroes present here today in order to safely confine the hazard here in Musutafu’s specialty jail, Tartarus.”
His voice echoed throughout the large but private venue; instilling a sense of secrecy in the atmosphere.
“We must approach this mission with utmost caution. We do not know what kind of cards the villain has in their hands. But with this number of heroes, I am confident in the success of our operative today.” Nedzu nodded politely. “Above all else, we must proceed with confidentiality as I fear that the press might stir up a racket once they catch wind of our mission. Prioritize the safety of civilians if necessary.”
His small paw then pointed to entries of the venue, “Exit orderly and follow your stations. Good luck to you all.”
As soon as his speech ended, the crowd dispersed into sections and groups - following the selected pathways until they arrived at a private dock near the seaside.
From a short distance, they spot a large cargo ship moving toward them. It was only a moment before the ship had fully docked. With a multitude of heroes watching, a bulky-tall figure is guided down the plank with his hands tied back and a cloth bag over his head to hide their identity.
Glares and gossiping whispers ghost over the area as they scrutinized the figure for their supposed evil misdeeds.
“Justice always comes sweet.”
“That’s what he gets for becoming a villain,”
But unbeknownst to this crowd of jabbering heroes, the true evil has already departed from another corner of the private dock.
Delivered by an inconspicuous convoy of a few small, but first-rate ships, the real villain was escorted by the group of heroes who stood behind Nedzu as he delivered his opening speech. The top heroes of Japan.
Watching a certain scruffy messy-haired man in a jumpsuit busily observing the small ship at the dock, Hawks approached a tan-skinned lady who stood surveying nearby. “Hey~, looks like Eraserhead’s hard at work, don’t you think, Mirko?” His tantalizing voice peaked, inciting a short snivel from the muscular woman. “What can you say? The man’s been overworked since day one.”
The winged man laughed, leaning on a near wall. “For a tired, “I hate everyone and everything” type of guy, he seems to have lots of energy on his hands,” Hawks kidded, wiggling his eyebrows at nothing.
The distant figure then turned his head toward their direction, seemingly sensing that someone had made him the subject of a joke.
Mirko then stood guard, erasing her lazed attitude from earlier as she patted the back of Hawks’ back energetically. “Ope! He heard us talking smack. Careful about suddenly losing flight one of these days, Hawks!” She grinned as she walked away, leaving him at the corner alone.
Watching her built-body walk away, he chuckled to himself, turning his gaze to a small, petite physique that carefully walked down the ship’s platform. “Surprise. Deku’s a literal child.”
“Ugh. Japan is quite… saltier - than in the states.” He complained, pulling up his black medical mask to cover his nose.
Midoriya Izuku, exclusively known as Deku to the general public, went out on a business trip across America to inspect one of his Quirk workshops. This information was weeded out by pro-hero Hawks who infiltrated a seemingly low-rate villain syndicate, only to find that the group was planning to raid one of Deku’s properties.
With a plan devised by the super-intelligent Nedzu of Japan, it was ensured that this time around, they would finally put an end to his evil schemes. And that they did.
Know this: Deku wasn’t someone to be taken lightly.
Even governments couldn’t simply barge in on his multitudes of factories and workshops as this villain has an unknown number of connections to massive corporate giants and public organizations. One wrong move could cut off water and electricity to a major city indefinitely; that was how much control and power he held.
For as long as the villain had been in the public eye, he has always been a figure that worked behind lines upon lines of defenses; only working from behind the scenes to keep himself secured.
Largely anonymous, he used his status to his advantage and formed alliances and contracts with other villain groups - ultimately becoming the mutual link of the entire villain underworld.
His crimes and exploits have been widely reported all over the globe. Feared by many and evading the plentiful of capture attempts, Deku had long secured his spot as the top second villain on the international wanted list.
With this much political and collective authority, it was beyond more than a simple shock when information came out that the villain was a 15-year-old teen. Additionally, he was diagnosed Quirkless.
Now, how would a mere Quirkless 15-year-old be able to climb the ranks of villainy so quickly? These heroes didn’t know. But what they did know was that this kid had the ability to transfer quirks from one person to another. His procedure of incasing quirks in serums was undetermined, but it was enough for world governments to take extra precautions as reports in uses of these serums had a death rate of a great percentage.
This information was not public in the same way that those heroes who mocked a random villain didn’t know that the man they were looking at was, in fact, not the supervillain who they believe will be locked up in one of Musutafus' cellars.
The real villain wasn’t going to Tartarus.
He was going to U.A.