Chapter Text
7 years. Seven. SEVEN YEARS!
It has been seven full years since Aizawa Shouta lived alone. The dark hall of the apartment and the eerie silence is deafening. He wasn't home much, but when he is. He can't help but teeter, it was like he was tiptoeing the line of emptiness and exhaustion. Today was one of those days that he had to stay at home, Mic just dropped him off. His body was aching all over as he lay on his couch.
The dull gray walls and ceiling felt suffocating. It felt very empty like something was entirely missing. His apartment didn't feel like home, it was more of a temporary dwelling for him. Aizawa pushed himself to stand, his muscles were aching with each step as he walked up to a door. He breathed in as he opened the door; it was still the same. The same white and mint green bed covers and pillowcases. He didn't have the guts to clean out the room. He entered the room, seating himself on the bed.
The sickly sweet scent of the bed stirs something in him. The distinct smell of vanilla and jasmine with hints of musk because of the dust that gathered in every corner of the room. He could almost smell the familiar fruity perfume that he used to hate smelling. Aizawa caressed a tattered cat plushie that sat in the middle of the bed, one of its beady green eyes was missing. He could almost see the familiar bright grin that he used to think was stupid, oh how he longed to see it again. Aizawa's eyes felt like it was burning as he stared at a broken picture frame on top of a dusty desk.
A girl who seems to be in middle school was smiling, staring straight at the camera. A disheveled black-haired adolescent beside her, the exhaustion on the older's face made it look like he didn't want to take the picture, as the grim expression on the young man's face mirrored the look on Aizawa's face. He wanted to hear it again, his little sister's voice. That sweet tone irritated him to no end when she asked him to teach her how to fight like him. Now, he wanted her to pester him again, to ask him to teach her how to be a hero.
He recalled how excited he was when he was 7 years old to have a sibling. Aizawa used to daydream about protecting her from all the harm of the world. He wanted to treasure them and tell them she was loved. Instead, he did the complete opposite. He did all that he can to push her away. Refusing every time she tried to get close to him. Often leaving her alone in this empty apartment. He was just so focused on Shirakumo's death and the pain, the anger he felt. Not knowing that he caused pain to the person who he promised to protect and love.
"Come back."
The distinct smell of burnt flesh was stinging her nose as she watched the azure flames grow brighter. Muka let out an amused giggle as she glanced at the patchwork man beside her. The staples on his face were pulled taut as he grinned. The cold of the night battled against the scorching heat of the fire, it warmed her up just enough. The chill on her fingertips left. Leaving warmth.
"Dabi, we should hurry up." Muka placed her hands in the pockets of her thick jacket. The heat of the flames transferred to the safety pins that held her shirt together along her shoulders. "Some second-rate hero could see us."
"It's not like they stood a chance against us, doll." Dabi darkly chuckled as he looked at Muka up and down. "You're here, after all, Muka." He said her name as if he was calling a child's name.
"Know your place, Burnt Smore." Muka scoffed as she walked off, her worn-out black combat boots barely making a sound as she went. A skill that she mastered in the last several years.
She could feel the scarred villain follow her. Dabi was someone she met in the first year she went on her own. Muka found him barely awake with severe burns along his body. The both of them weren't exactly what you call friends. They were more like casual acquaintances that help each other. He knew things about her that most didn't know and vice versa. Okay, well, maybe they were close friends that somehow act like they got married and got divorced but still remained friends.
"Muka, have you heard?" Dabi strode beside her, "There are whispers here and there that someone's looking for people to recruit in some kind of a villain organization." His voice was as flat as usual.
"And I would care, because?"
"Heard they wanted the fall of hero society." He grinned, malice swirled in his eyes. "And they affiliated with Stain."
It was the night after Stain got caught. The attack last night wreck havoc in Hosu City. Muka wasn't in that area when it happened. No, she had bigger fish to fry. But hearing this from her 'friend' made something bubble in her. She’s seen the video of Stain's ideals being broadcasted for all of Japan to see.
"Oh? Interesting." She grins, Dabi will never admit it, but it made chills run down his spine.
Muka made her way through alleys and dimly lit streets of Kamino Ward. She arrived in front of what it seems to be a bar. She was greeted by an old man who wore a ridiculous purple suit and a petite teen girl who didn't seem to be older than sixteen. Dabi wore his usual scowl as she entered the establishment. Muka adjusted the black scarf around her neck, trying to cover half of her face with it.
"Kurogiri, get rid of these guys." A raspy voice demanded as soon as you walked in, you situated yourself behind the blue flame wielder. "Everything I hate came in one set." The seated pale-haired man gestured to their group. "A brat, A rude guy, and a homeless bitch."
That title made Muka’s eyebrow raise, did she really look homeless? I mean sure she didn't have a permanent home but he didn't need to point that out. She stared at him, not really offended by his remark, rather she was annoyed that he judged too quickly. Well, Dabi can be quite rude but that's just him.
"Now, now." The wisp of purple and black in a rather flattering suit tried to reason out, "They came all this way to visit, so let's at least hear them out, Shigaraki Tomura."
He's too formal. Maybe he's some sort of a caretaker? Figures, this Shigaraki Tomura seems like a handful.
"Besides, the big shot broker brought them." The misty bartender dude ended his spiel. "They're bound to be valuable assets."
"I don't care what you do with them, but make sure I get my commission, Kurogiri." The old man in that horrid purple suit said as he puffed his cigarette. "At least, let me introduce them." He stood beside her, between the golden-eyed girl and Dabi, "First, this cute high school girl. Her face and name were tightly kept tightly under wraps from the media, but she's on the run as the suspect in a series of death by blood loss." He gestured to the girl.
"I'm Toga, Toga Himiko!" She energetically announced, "It's hard to live! I want the world to become an easier place to live."
Her heart ached when she heard her say those words. Truly the superhero society must burn. Society is already rotting from the inside.
"I want to become Mr. Stainy! I want to kill Stain! So let me join your League of Villains, Tomura-Kun!"
Wait, what did she say? Become Stain? Kill Stain? Damn. This is why teenagers scare the living shit out of Muka at times.
"I don't get her. Is she crazy?" The pale man muttered.
"She can hold a conversation for the most part," Giran stated as he looked at the blonde high schooler. "I'm sure she'll be of use." He gestured to Dabi. "This one here, he hasn't committed any flashy crimes, but he holds fast to the hero killer's ideation."
"I'm uneasy about this. Does this organization really have a cause?" Dabi looked skeptical, "Are you really going to let his crazy woman in?"
Toga made a noise, clearly, she was offended by what Dabi said. Damn it, he just can't go on without opening his mouth.
"Hey, you." Shigaraki seemed to be rather annoyed by the situation. "You can't even do what that crazy high school girl was able to do." He turned to Muka, "And you, you don't look like you'll be of use to me."
He continued, "Give your names first. You're both adults, right?"
"I currently go by Dabi."
"I'm Muka."
"That's not what I want to know. What's your real name?"
She mentally scoffed, as if Dabi will tell the crusty bastard his real name. Sure, she knew Dabi's real identity as he does hers, but it was for the sake of making a stronger bond and it was because they accidentally told each other when they first got their taste of alcohol when they were nineteen.
"Names have power, though I abandoned that name years ago, and it's not time yet... Sooo." Muka shrugged, she tried to look nonchalant. "It's not relevant to this narrative... Yet."
"I'll tell you when it's time." Dabi's turquoise eyes were heavy-lidded, "Anyway, I'll carry out the will of the hero killer."
"You don't have to say, what you haven't been asked." He started to sound agitated, like a child starting to throw a tantrum. "Jeez, everyone is so hung up about Stain, Stain..." He stood up, "I don't like it."
The person behind the counter tried to stop him, "You mustn't. Shigaraki!"
"I don't feel good." His crimson eye was glaring through the hand on his face. "You're all no good!" He rushed forward to attack, and both his hands moved toward Dabi and Toga.
And Muka watched as Toga pulled out a knife and leaped forward to attack. Dabi also had moved forward, dark smoke and blue flames threatening to erupt from his hand. She watched, surprised, and definitely disappointed. Muka face palmed as she shook her head. The misty man acted quickly and redirected the trio's attack. Purple and black mists surrounded each of their arms.
What an impressive quirk, will it work on her though?
"Girls, girls you're all pretty, no need to fight." She glanced at Giran, "I swear, they're children trapped in adult bodies."
He snorted at that, clearly amused at her statement. He took a long drag of his cigarette, letting out puffs of smoke from his lips.
"Please calm down, Shigaraki Tomura." Kurogiri calmly stated, "If what you wish is to come to pass, then we must increase the organization's numbers. Strangely enough, we're in the spotlight right now, so now is our chance." He whispered to the agitated male. "We should not be rejecting them, we should be receiving them. You must use it, all of it..." She didn't quite hear the last words he was saying, probably something to appease the dry-skinned male.
At least the misty dude was mature enough. Muka licked her dry lips, hands swaying idly as she stared at the popcorn-worthy scene in front of her. Well, whatever he said worked. The mists returned behind the counter.
Muka chuckled which caught the attention of the people inside the room.
"Are y'all done? Hey, you dandruff-looking guy," Dabi rolled his eyes at her. "I'm still here ya know?"
"Shut up." He started to walk to the door.
"Where are you going?"
Muka grabbed his arm, and he retaliated by touching her with all of his five fingers. Her thick jacket quickly turned into dust leaving her in a tattered shirt. She couldn't see his reaction, but from her peripheral vision, she could see a rather shocked expression on the high schooler's face.
"Man, now I have to find a new jacket." She brushed the dust from her skin. Staring at the male who was still holding onto her arm.
He hissed at Muka, "What on earth are you?" He let go of her and started scratching at his neck. "I don't like you."
"A human?" She decided to play with fire, what can he do? Disintegrate her?
"Shut Up!"
"Remember the name Muka, alright?" She hollered after him as he went out. "Damn, what's gotten his panties in a twist?" She mutters to herself as she pouts, staring down at the pile of dust that was once her jacket.