Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

When Izuku was four he didn’t learn anything unusual. Sure he learned the normal things like reading and math, but he didn’t learn any big life lessons. He had his Mama, and Auntie Mitsuki and Kacchan and he didn’t always have a Dad but that was ok because Kacchan did and he said they could share. He had a nice little life at four, and people who supported him and so when Izuku was four he didn’t learn anything special.

(In a different universe, a little boy with curly hair and bright green eyes does. In a different universe, Izuku doesn’t have a quirk, or people who support his dreams. He doesn’t have Kacchan, because in that universe Kacchan ignored the fact that they were childhood friends, brothers in all but blood. The word Deku becomes more than just a harmless nickname, because Kacchan gives it a new meaning. In that universe, Izuku learns that all men are not equal and his entire world comes crashing down all at the age of four. That universe isn’t kind to Izuku, and while this one isn’t either, he does get an extra year before learning a lesson.)

In this universe, the word Deku is just that. A word. A harmless nickname born of his best friend misreading his name. Four year old Izuku wears the name Deku with pride, the same way Katsuki secretly does with Kacchan. To the two little boys, the nicknames are a special connection between them, a representation of their bond. At age four Izuku and Katsuki are as close as can be, sharing everything, even a quirk.

Oh right! That hasn’t been mentioned yet. Yes, Izuku has, as far as the doctors can tell, some kind of copy quirk. Izuku’s quirk lets him take someone else’s quirk for a bit and then give it back if he wants. The doctors say that, if he practices hard enough, he’ll even be able to make permanent copies of quirks for himself, even after giving back the original. Katsuki was, admittedly, a bit freaked out the first time Izuku activated it, but so was he and after a few days to process Kacchan was back to being his normal self. So the boys share everything, even something as personal as a quirk. It’s just how they are.

All of this added up to Izuku having a pretty nice time as a four year old. Unfortunately, nice things don’t always last and therefore it was only fitting that on Izuku’s fifth birthday everything went to shit.

Sure, it started out well. Izuku had spent the night at Kacchan’s house the night before and when he woke up it was to his Mom and Auntie making breakfast together while Uncle set the table. He and Kacchan got up at the same time and ran to help him. After breakfast they opened presents and ate cake. They took the boys to the park and let them play. The celebration was a quiet affair, but it was warm and personal and Izuku wouldn’t ask for anything different.

(If only he knew this would be the last time he would see them for almost 10 years, he would have given them all one more hug, told them all one more time how special they made him feel. He wouldn’t have changed much but there were little things he would do, if only he had known.)

It wasn’t until after they had gotten home that things started to go bad. Izuku’s parents weren’t divorced, but his father often had to leave for long business trips so Izuku didn’t see him much. Today was during one of those times so he was surprised to see a neatly wrapped gift with his name on it sitting on their porch. His mother had gasped and had a smile on her face but it wasn’t like the ones she had been wearing all day. Those seemed natural and pretty, while this one was fake and didn’t reach her eyes.

They brought the package inside the house and that was their first mistake. The second was opening it, but the Midoriyas were curious and it was a birthday gift.

(And indeed it was a birthday gift, but not a kind one and not one you’d want.)

The box was placed on the kitchen table and the wrappings removed to reveal a strange looking green necklace with a black diamond charm and a note. Izuku stood with his mom as he put on the necklace and if he were a little older or a little more awake he might have seen the way her face fell as she read the letter. But little Izuku, freshly five and tired from a long day simply told his mother he loved her, wished her good night and headed off to bed.

(He missed the way his exhaustion seemed to triple when he put the necklace on, the same way he missed the small pinprick it gave him and the way half the gem changed from black to grey. So many things he would change if he knew, but he hadn’t.)

(Later, his father would tell him his mother visited him that night, that she had made the choice for both of them when she tried to get them tickets to America. Later, Izuku would sit in a small dark room with clothes marred by blood and wonder what he did wrong that night.)

Right now though? Right now Izuku slept peacefully, kept from waking up by a drug injected by the necklace and oblivious to his mother frantically packing. In the morning, Izuku would wake up and see how the bags under his mom’s eyes were darker than usual, looking more like bruises. He would obey his mother when she told him to pack, stating they were going on an impromptu vacation, the same way he obeyed her when she told him to take her quirk for practice. He wouldn’t believe her, but he would let her keep her lie anyway.

(and Oh, how Izuku wishes he asked, how he wishes he had tried to find out what she was hiding from him.)

They were eating katsudon when it happened. They were just sitting at the table, eating calmly when the doorbell rang. Inko had gotten up from the table to answer it, saying it was probably Mitsuki coming over. She unlocked the door, opened it and promptly fell to the ground as she was hit by a bullet.

Izuku had no time to think as three men ran into their house, one of them holding the still smoking gun and the other holding Inko. The third man ran towards Izuku, picking him up and throwing him over his shoulders. Izuku thrashed as best he could but this time he felt the small sting and watched the pendant turn fully grey. His limbs turned to lead as he slumped over the man, just managing to brush a hand over the guys exposed neck, stealing his quirk before passing out completely. The katsudon, now cold, was left half eaten on the table.

(Police would be baffled by their sudden disappearance and write it off as the Midoriya’s boarding their flight to America. The Bakugou’s, who had ordered the investigation, would be told as much, and little Katsuki would wonder why his best friend would leave without saying goodbye. He would wonder what he did wrong to lose his Deku, his brother, and elsewhere, a small green child would wake up in a warehouse next to his mother’s corpse.)

Izuku Midoriya was five when he died for the first time and learned that men are evil.

Chapter Text

Loki spat blood to the side and charged, knife in hand and ready to strike. He moved silent and deadly, movements practiced and honed until he could fight deaf and blind and still come out on top. Unfortunately for him his opponent has the same training and moves with the same grace, not even blinking when his shoulder gets slashed through. He simply severs the rest of the arm and keeps fighting while a new one grows.

The arm hits the ground with a dull thud in the otherwise silent room and Loki uses it to his advantage, kicking it up in the air and into his opponent’s stomach. His partner lets out a soundless wheeze as the air is forced from his lungs and retaliates by slitting Loki’s chest from shoulder to the bottom of his rib cage. The cut isn’t deep but it is long and unfortunately placed in a spot that limits mobility. Loki backs off and the two circle each other, giving them both time to heal.

By the time Loki’s cut seals, Mimic’s arm has finished regrowing and the two lunge forward at the same time. Neither of them stop, choosing to instead meet in the middle, but where Mimic goes for the joints and tendons, blows that would certainly cripple anyone else, Loki chooses to press forward, swiping at Mimic’s throat. Both blades find their mark and blood splatters the already stained floors. Mimic’s throat heals quickly, only a few seconds faster than Loki’s right distal tendon but it’s enough time for him to get in another stab, this one curving for his unprotected side. It lands, and now Loki is regenerating two places at once.

He forces the quirk to stop, choosing to instead rely on Do-Over and lashes out in quick erratic strikes that have his opponent stepping back. He extends his arm and throws, the silver of the blade flashing under the florescent lights in a deadly arc towards Mimics eye, and while Mimic is distracted he moves. His opponent sidesteps the knife, right into Loki’s outstretched hand and more importantly, his claws. The needle sharp points dig into his opponent’s ribs the same time he punches him in the nose. Loki reaches up and places both hands on either side of Mimic’s face while the other boy’s hand points a knife to Loki’s heart. They both freeze, panting in the quiet room, and the camera’s intercom crackles to life.

“Draw.” A dull voice says over the speakers. “Reset and go again. Terms… how about first to break a bone? We haven’t done that one in a while. Noses don’t count.” Both boys nod and Mimic lowers his knife. They move back and while Loki goes to retrieve his fallen knife Mimic grabs the discarded arm before brushing a hand over Loki’s and placing it in their shared pocket space. They can find some use for it later, perhaps a diversion in a different fight.

The two stand, now on opposite sides of the training room. They reach up at the same time, both placing their hands on the other’s face and snap each other’s necks. The bodies don’t even have a chance to fall before their necks twist and mend, the bones unbreaking and stab wounds healing. The two boys look at each other before nodding, wordlessly stepping apart and readying for their fight.

“Begin,” the voice says and the two clash once more. This time, Loki ducks, crouching low to avoid Mimic’s swing. He narrowly misses the foot aimed at his side, rolling forward and using the momentum to spring back up. He throws one fist at Mimic’s nose and the other at his gut, forcing the boy to either dodge one and let the other hit him or catch both. Mimic chooses the latter and Loki twists his arms and pivots, swinging the other boy and attempting to send him onto the floor. Mimic bends backwards as he falls and brings Loki down with him. He quickly lets go of Loki’s hands and reaches for his knife, aiming to slam the hilt into his knuckles. He moves just a moment too slow and Loki rolls out of the way before it can land.

He lunges forward in a tackle and Mimic finds a knee burying itself in his gut. He feels the bones in his wrist crunch and poke through skin where they stay, unable to repair themselves while being held still. Neither move until the bland voice returns.

“Loki wins. Clean up the mess and then return to your room.”

The two separate and Loki waits for the bones to reset before he pulls Mimic up from the ground. He offers the other boy a stained rag, most likely pulled from their pocket space, and the boys set to mopping up the blood. A small container with soapy water is deposited on the floor via portal and the two take it as a sign they’ve trained sufficiently. They only get soapy water on good days.

They set to cleaning the floor and remove the blood with practiced ease. They are well accustomed by now to removing bloodstains, and they know better than to remove the blood from their faces until they’re in the privacy of their own room. When the floors are clean and the rags are placed in the now pink water the voice returns.

“You have a mission in two days. I trust you know the consequences for failure?” Both boys nod in direction of the camera but keep their eyes on the wet floor. They say nothing, because they know better and display no emotions, because they are perfectly trained. Their purpose is to be weapons, created at a young age to cut through society and its heroes, and weapons do not talk. They do not have opinions, or wants, needing only to be kept sharp and obey orders.

(On the inside they are crying, and only in the privacy of their own minds do they voice their complaints. In the small, human parts of their mind Izuku and Neito scream and claim they are more then weapons, that they are people, but those are the parts that are not needed. Those are the parts they have been trained to suppress and so it is only Loki and Mimic that are seen and not heard, because talking is a privilege and not necessary for weapons.)

Loki and Mimic are 15, and because they have not tried to run from their last missions, this one they will complete on their own.

(And where would they go? They have nowhere to run to, no one waiting for them on the outside except for maybe Golden, and no one knows how to find him. The last hero that had seen him had been found with a knife in their brain and electrical burns running down their neck.)

So they have not run, because they have no where to run to. They follow orders, and train, and do whatever they have to do to avoid punishment because they’ve learned, in their many, many years here, that no hero will come to save them. It’s one of the few things they agree with Sensei on. In this hell they have only each other and so it is to each other they cling to.

(In the quiet darkness of their room Izuku and Neito are finally able to breathe. They cling to each other while they break down and do their best to soothe each other’s wounds. Loki and Mimic are let go and they allow themselves to feel, and emote and simply exist. They are the most themselves when they are with each other and though it feels like pieces are missing it is as close as they can get so long as they are here.)

“Dismissed.” The voice finishes and the boys finally allow themselves to look up. The metal bands around their neck and wrist click as they amble to their room where they all but collapse, training having taken its toll on them. They clean their faces and change their clothes and then, in the darkness of their shared room, they plan.

Chapter Text

Neito was a good kid. He lived with his mother and father, in a nice little house with a big tree in the backyard! It even had a swing! They didn’t have neighbors as far as Neito could tell but that was alright. He had a neat little family and while they didn’t have any pets, (Mother said no animals), there was a stray cat that Father let in the house when Mother was gone. He had a happy little life at 4 years old.

Mother left quite often actually. Every night in fact, and even though Mother and Father fought when she got back, Neito envied her just a little. He wasn’t allowed out of the house, neither was Father. He even learned at his house! Mother said she worked a night job, and she never let him go with her even to the grocery store. Mother said a lot of things.

Most of them were nice, like saying how smart Neito is for learning the special names for the rocks in the garden, or how pretty he and Father were, but sometimes she said things that weren’t so nice. Things about how they were her family to take care of and that she was protecting them. Those things were said to Father more than him but Mother talked like that when Neito tried to help Father ask to leave.

They didn’t ask to leave anymore.

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Father's been acting strange lately. He's been teaching Neito all kinds of new games lately, like how to curl up really tight under the bed, or how to be really sneaky when they play hide-and-go-seek, which is also been happening more often. Father even asked him to help search for things hidden around the house! There was a bunch of little metal bits in the lamps and under the doors, and today Father even held held him up to the ceiling light to take one out of the inside! It was like a scavenger hunt, but there weren't any prizes at the end. He did get a popsicle though, so maybe that was the prize? He's not sure. Maybe he'll ask Father about it the next time they play. They have to wait though, because Father said they can only play that game when Mother isn't home.

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It's nighttime when Father wakes him up. The sky is still dark and the moon is high in the sky as he's shaken awake. He rubs his eyes as Father moves away to shuffle through his closet. By the time Neito moves his hands away Father has turned around again, this time with a small bag of... something in his hands. He's not sure what it is, too sleepy to think much.

"Hey buddy, I know you're probably confused but I need you to listen alright? We need to be really quiet okay?" Father was whispering, and he looked around the room while he spoke.

Neito nodded.

"Good job. We have to be sneaky right now, okay? Just stay close to me. We're going to go somewhere."

This piqued his curiosity. "Where?"

Father leaned in like he was telling a secret. "We're going on an adventure outside."

Neito gasped before covering his mouth. "I get to go outside?"

At this, Father's face pinched a bit like he'd eaten something sour. "You sure do, but we need to go quickly. Is there anything you want to take with you?"

Neito nodded before turning around. He wiggled around and grabbed his favorite plushy, a little blue fox and held it out for Father to take. "We have to bring Faldette."

"Alright." Faldette was placed in the bag alongside... clothes? Neito's clothes?

"Why do you have my clothes?" He asked.

Father started looking around again. "We'll need them for our adventure. Is there anything else you want?"

Neito shook his head. "No. Where's Mother?"

Father froze. "This is a, um-- surprise for Mother. Alright--" Father held out his hand. "Shall we, little prince?"

Neito giggled. Father seemed to relax a bit at the sound. He grabbed his hand and followed Father out the door, through the living room and into the bathroom. Father opened the window and set the bag out before picking him up and helping him through. "Remember, be really sneaky alright? No noises."

Neito mimed zipping his lips. Father climbed through, grabbed him and the bag and began running. "It's alright, sleep. Everything will be okay in the morning." Neito felt his Father tuck his head against his shoulder and sighed, content and still sleepy from being woken up. He wanted to be awake and see what outside their yard looked like. He put up a valiant effort. Eventually, though, the rocking motion became to much for him and he drifted off to sleep.

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For a while, Neito and his father lived on the third floor of a little brick building. They still didn't have any neighbors but it was alright because this time he could see the street. He liked living with his father, his father was nice. Father let him go out into the yard, and on the side walk, and took him to the 'park'. There were other kids his age there, and he was allowed to play with them. They were nice, there was a little girl who made noises Father said was a 'frog' and a little boy with black hair and sharp teeth. At night he got to look at the stars from their window, they were harder to see now that they were closer to people but that was okay. Neito still loved them just as much, even if they were different now.

He liked living in that building, with his father. What a pity they couldn't stay.
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When Neito is five someone shows up at their door. It's a very tall person, with dark pink eyes, black sclera and pale orange hair. Small, feathery appendages sprout from their head curling like antennae. Their voice is gentle when they speak, soft and quiet like the nice lady that gave him a flower crown.

"Hey sweetie, is your dad home?"

Neito looks around. Father said not to talk to strangers, but also not to let anyone know when he's home alone. Tentatively, he says "My father is in the shower."

"Father? Ooh, how polite~ Well you see sweetie," They crouch down to his level. "I can't hear any water running and," They tap the antenna on their head. "My quirk let's me hear reeaally well. So, wanna try again?"

Neito fidgets. "He's um, he's getting groceries."

"Groceries, hmm? And he left you alone." The way they say it sounds wrong, not really a question but like they've decided something. It makes Neito uncomfortable and he starts to close the door. A hand stops it before it can shut fully.

"Uhbupbup, where are you running off to?"

"I- I have to go. Father says not to talk to strangers."

"Oh? And who says I'm a stranger. I'm a friend of your mom's."

Neito squints. Truth be told, he sort of forgot about Mother. She faded into the background when they left, and he liked his new life so much better now that he didn't bring it up when they never met up with her. But now, well he felt a little bad. She always talked about wanting to keep him and Father safe, and how they were hers, and they left her. Neito wouldn't like it if his father left him so maybe it was the same for Mother.

He peeked through the crack in the door. "You do?"

They nodded. "Mhm, sure do. She's about yay big--" they raised a hand in the air. "--Red hair and she has little white pupils just like you do. She misses you y'know. That's why she sent me over here."

Neito frowned. "Oh."

"She wants to see you and your Father. She'll be coming by in a little bit, is it okay if I wait for her here?"

"I can't let you in the house."

"No silly." They patted the concrete step outside their front door. "I mean here. Why don't we talk for a little bit?"
--------------

When Father got home Neito had opened the door a bit more, just enough to see the lady's face. He didn't even make it up their sidewalk, freezing and dropping the groceries when he saw who was at their door. Faster than Neito could move, he was picked up and his father's feet were stuck to the concrete. A pair of men walked over from behind the fence next door and hoisted his father into the air.

"Let's go see your mom, shall we?"

--------------

Neito and his father lived with Mother for about a year. This time it was a larger house, even further away from the city. The house was in an open field but Neito wasn't allowed outside anymore. Neither was his father. Mother was home more often as well, hovering around them both. She rarely let Father out of her sight anymore, unless he was sleeping. He slept much harder now too, he didn't even stir when Nieto tried to wake him up after a nightmare.

Early into their second year there, Father got sick. It moved quickly, first slowing his motions, than limiting them, before finally taking his ability to walk altogether. Bedridden, it wasn't long before the disease moved to his hands, making them shake, and his mouth, rendering him unable to chew or speak. Through every stage, his mind remained intact, and he still smiled every time he saw Neito.

Neito took to sitting with his father in bed, making up stories and rambling on about anything and everything, whatever came to mind. It seemed to raise his father's spirits, and so he spent as much time as he could with him.

A person can only hang on for so long though. Eventually, his father took his last breath and Neito was left alone with Mother.

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Mother has started taking him to work with her. She says it's because there's no one to be with him at home but Neito has learned better. He's older now, and can better understand what really happened when his father ran, and the subsequent consequences it had. Mother takes him to work because she thinks he'll run again, because of some twisted need to possess him and, once, his father.

He sees the lady again, the one that caught him and his father just a few years ago. She has a name now, Ga Kohaku. Apparently she works for Mother as her second hand, and has been tasked with training him. Neito supposes she has no concerns about him escaping if left alone with her.

Mother has taken an interest in his quirk. "A perfect fusion of hers and his father's," she says. She wants to train him, to take over her faction someday. Neito's not sure what all that entails, but he knows it isn't legal. Isn't kind, isn't just, isn't something his father would want him anywhere near. He knew what fate had for Neito and he tried his best to give him a chance to escape it. Neito only wishes he'd been a little smarter, two years ago.

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Neito is eight when it happens. Mother's faction has finally pissed off someone they cannot beat, and building she works from is suddenly overran with portals that pour out people. No one he recognizes, and they're certainly not trained, but the sheer number of them is enough. Mother's people are quickly cut down, until it is just him and Mother at the center of the room. Her quirk is ill suited to this fight, and his own can only get them so far. They're surrounded, and in a fit of desperation she grabs his shoulder. Whether to shove Neito at them or to pull him closer he's not sure, and he never gets to find out. A knife goes through her skull, crackling with the electricity it's made of.

Neito raises his hands, ready to fight back, only to see a wooden plank disappear into one of those portals. Then the room goes black.

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When Neito wakes up next, he is on the dirty floor of a warehouse. The walls are smooth, made of white stone and littered with various stains. He is splayed out, and in front of him stands a man made of the same swirling mist as the portals he saw.

"I am Kurogiri. You work for All for One now."

Chapter Text

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Two days later found them in the same training room for a mission briefing.

“Explain your mission objectives.” Came from over the intercom. Neither Loki nor Mimic spoke, recognizing the trap and waiting to be addressed directly. “Clever,” The voice said. “Good to see you remember your training. Mimic! Explain them.”

Mimic kept his eyes on the floor. “We are to head to Naruhata to watch over a drug deal for an experimental batch of trigger. We are to gather information on the drugs such as their origin, shipment dates and side effects. If possible, we are to obtain a vial of the drug for testing.”

“Good. Loki, explain the additional objectives.”

“We are to establish ourselves and a reputation in that neighborhood and look for a possible location for another base. If we see a potential ally, we are to gather information and report back to you.”

“You’re both doing so well this morning. Let’s keep it that way, hmm? Now then, both of you, what are your rules?”

“If we see a hero, we are to disguise our presence. We are not to talk to them or engage unless it is crucial to the mission. If we run into a hero on our payroll, we are to pretend we do not know them.”

“We are not to engage in any fighting aside from the mission, nor are we allowed to start any fights unless as a diversion. If we get caught by a hero, we are to stay silent and wait for an extraction. We are not to break ourselves out.”

“Good. And the last one?”

“We are not to try and escape.”

“Good. You have three hours. Kurogiri will open a portal to get you there and back, and if you miss the exfil we will assume you have been caught or tried to run and activate your chips. Activate your disguises.”

With that, a swirling purple and black cloud appeared in front of them. Loki and Mimic shifted, pupils thinning into slits and nails lengthening. A pair of cat ears sprouted atop both their heads as their human ones receded. Their comms are tucked into the new ones, hidden in the furnishings. Tails grew from their waists, matching the fur of their ears. The last step is their masks, which they slide into place with a click. Glancing at each other, they stepped through the portal and were greeted with a dirty alleyway.

Pausing, they surveyed the walls, noting security cameras and possible alternate entrances. Almost immediately after they stepped into a blind spot their comms crackled to life.

“Hey boys~ Miss me?”

Internally both boys froze. From outside they appeared normal, but their hearts stuttered as they heard a voice they never expected to hear again.

“De- Golden?”

“The one and only. Act natural, and follow my instructions.”

Mimic looked around the corner before signaling to Loki. They stepped away from the wall and began walking.

“As soon as you step out of the alleyway, make a right. Go straight until you see a convenience store, then cross the street. Make your way to the back dumpsters and climb the fire escape. From there you’ll be able to see the trigger meet.”

“You know what our mission is?”

“Of course, I’ve been listening for a few weeks. How else do you think I planned this? Anyway, right before the trigger gets brought out you’ll need to start running. You’re going to be chased. Those guys will be chasing you because I told them to. I found a program to get you away from Him .”

“They can’t hide us, he’s always going to be able to track us.”

“Mmm, not if I disable the chips. I can assure you, I've learned a lot in my time away. Besides, I’m in the program.”

“We’ll be able to see you again?”

“Sure will.”

Loki and Mimic shared a subtle glance. “We’ll do it. Stay on coms?”

“As long as I can. Stay safe. If all goes well you’ll be seeing me in 3 days.”

“And you?” Asked Mimic. “Are you safe?”

A pause. “As safe as I can be. Listen, the chase is important. I’ll need a few minutes to deactivate your chips, and we’ll need to make it look like you actually got caught.”

“Understood. Can we…” Loki hesitated.

“It’s alright, what do you want to know?”

Everything. “Can we— Do think we can remake the bond?”

There was a quiet gasp on the comms. “I- you still want one? Even after I-“

“Of course.” Mimic cut him off. “Of course we still want one. So long as you do as well?”

“ Yes. Absolutely.”

“And it’ll be safe?” Asked Loki.

“I’m sure of it. We’re getting out this time, together.”

A small smile appeared on all their faces. Together.

"Would it ruin the moment if I mentioned how cute those ears are?"

Mimic sighed. "Yes, yes it would."

Golden hummed. "Too bad. You guys look adorable. Now get ready to cross the street in three, two, one, and... Now! Good job, it's a straight shot from there to the back, and then up the fire escape."

Mimic jumped, grabbing onto the last rung of the rickety fire escape. Carefully, he pulled himself up, using his tail to balance. He held out a hand for Loki, who rolled his eyes before jumping and ricocheting of the opposite wall. He landed in a neat crouch on the platform of the escape, glancing up at Mimic before raising an eyebrow. Mimic only shrugged, a faint smile on his face.

"Alright lovebirds, enough doting. It's drug time."

"Aww, feeling left out Goldie?" Loki shot a sharp-toothed smirk at the camera mounted on a nearby streetlamp.

Golden sputtered. "I- I-- Don't."

Mimic turned, blowing the camera a kiss. "Don't worry, we're going to smother you in doting as soon as we can." They didn't need to see him to know he was beet red.

"Drugs!" was all he said, voice wobbly. Their smiles turned softer.

"We missed you too." With that, they extended their claws, digging them into to the mortar to scramble their way up onto the roof, lying down to look over the edge.

From here they had a clear view of the loading door of the garage where the trigger meet was happening. It was closed for now, but it didn't matter. They'd be able to see if anyone went in or out, and the deal wasn't supposed to go down for another ten minutes.

"So, how's being dead?" Beside Loki, Mimic snorted.

"Oh it's just grand." Golden didn't miss a beat. "I get to do the same job but this time I get to pick the hits. You would not believe the amount of rapists I've killed."

"Oh? You've kept pretty quiet though."

"Ah. Yeah, I made a new name for myself. You know Blackout?"

"Kami." Mimic gasped. "That was you? You're a vigilante now?"

"That's me. Amazing what a little hair dye and concealer can do."

"That's... You've really been okay since you got out?"

Golden blew out a breath, thinking. "I won't lie to you. It was hard, still is. There was a big shock, going from... there to a place with total freedom. It's a lot. It's-- I didn't know how to choose things, I still don't. There's so much I still don't know, and I've been out a year."

"Oh."

"Don't get me wrong, I'm happy I got out. I just... I don't think I'm fully out, yet. But that's okay. We'll get there together."

Loki and Mimic glanced at each other. "You really think we'll be okay?"

"I know so. I was born in the Underground, but you guys joined really young. Who knows, you might remember some things. Besides, you'll have me! I can teach you what I've learned so far."

"Alright. Together."

Behind his screen, Golden smiled. It was a small thing, cautious and tinged with hope, but it was there. They were there. That's all that mattered. He cleared his throat. "Alright. Enough mushy stuff, we have drugs to deal."

Mimic sighed. "We are not dealing drugs."

"Ehhh, semantics."

"It's really not, ther--"

"Shhh!" Loki cut in. "Look. It's starting."

Below them, a man in a mechanics jumpsuit walked up to the door, carrying a brown paper bag. He knocked a pattern on the door, jumping backwards. Almost immediately, the blade of a knife shot out of the doorframe, angled to where his hand had been.

"You're late." The person inside hissed. Quite literally. The door opened to reveal a person with snake-like eyes and scales dotting their face. A pair of sharp fangs flashed everytime they opened their mouth. "Get in."

The man laughed and stepped forward, closing the door behind him.

"I have visual inside the building but no audio." Golden said.

On the roof, both Loki and Mimic's ears started swiveling, pointing towards the door.

"We have that covered."

"What are they saying?"

"They're asking if he brought the goods. There's... crunching?" Loki turns to Mimic for confirmation.

"He's taking something out of the bag. It's a tube of some kind, glass maybe? It's tinted, I can't make out what's inside."

"That's fine. The other one wants to see it in action before buying. Wait, there's someone else there?"

"Not that I can see, can you hear someone?"

"I hear them too." Mimic responds. "Is there any doors or anything they could be behind?"

"They don't sound muffled though."

"Loki's right. I can see the whole room from this angle, there's nothing someone could hide behind."

"Invisibility quirk maybe?"

"Maybe. Uh. Are they fighting? It looks like they're fighting."

"Sounds like it. He wants the money before the test, he says he won't waste product unless someone's paying for it."

There's a loud sound as a window breaks and the door flies open. The two traders run into the street, still arguing.

"It's the heroes! You lying bastards, which one of you ratted?"

"Wasn't us, I swear. Why the fuck would we call the heroes?"

On the rooftop Loki and Mimic scrambled to their feet. A few buildings away, they could see someone in a costume running towards them. They took off, jumping to the next roof in the opposite direction.

"Golden." Mimic hissed. "You didn't say they were coming now!"

Golden let out a nervous laugh. "Easy Mim, the surprise had to be genuine, remember."

"Less talking, more running!" Loki chimes in.

"For this to work, I need to time turning off the chips with you getting caught. Just keep running until I tell you to stop."

"We have a problem." Mimic says, looking behind them. The hero is getting closer, her lavender hair clearly visible.

Loki turns. "Oh Kami, it's Daze."

"Daze? Shit. Gu-//-/-/-"

"You're cutting out, Gold."

"Ke-/-/-/-- //-/- lon/-/r"

"What?" There's a quiet thud and the sound of a gas cannister being depressed. Below them the traders stumble, a small cloud of mist surrounding them.

"She's almost in range."

"--Wasn't --//-/--- Plan. Just a few more minutes." Golden's voice is crunchy with static, but understandable.

"We don't have minutes." They jump, crossing the gap between rooftops.

"Almost--"

"This is Pro Hero Daze. Stop running and we can talk this out."

"Golden--"

"Fuck. It's not going to be as clean as I wanted but it'll work. Now!"

On cue, Mimic trips. Loki stops to catch him, just in time for Daze to gas them. Both go limp, settling into a pile on the cement.

Daze puts a hand to her ear. "I got 'em, we're on the roof. I'm bringing them down."

She makes her way closer, pulling out a pair of quirk suppressant cuffs. Neither one of the boys move. They're smaller than she expected, she figured that was just distance when they were running but up close they look the same. There's no way they're full grown. The realization that there is an alarming amount of scar tissue on them make that fact a whole lot worse.

Their eyes are glazed over slightly, pupils dilated. Their limbs are relaxed, though their tails are lightly swishing. All typical signs of her quirk in action. That's good, no signs of an allergic reaction or anything of the sort.

"I'm going to put these on you now. Tell me if they get too tight, okay?" No reaction. That's strange, maybe they breathed in more of her gas than she thought. Nonki takes the final step towards them. "Alright, wrists up."

No response. "Uh, you. Greenbean." She gestures to the one on the right. They hold up an arm, and she snaps the cuff on. "Other one."

They hold out their other arm and she goes to snap that one in before pausing. They pulled their friend's up with it. They must have been holding hands as they fell. "Alright, can you let go for me?"

Greenbean shakes their head while the other one grips tighter. "Nnnoo."

It's incredibly slurred, but it's the first verbal response she's gotten from them. Just how hard did they get hit with her quirk? She'd have thought those masks would have protected them from most of it, that's why she sent out so much gas, but it seems like she was wrong. Nonki winces.

"No? They won't be very comfortable if you don't."

They shake their head again, very slowly. Nonki knows when to pick her battles and clearly, this wasn't one of them. "Okay. Well can you turn your arm?"

She gets a very slow blink. "Can you-- Your arm, can you turn it? I need to put this on your wrist."

"Mmmnooo." Beside Greenbean, the blonde one lists forward and she has to reach out and steady them.

"Why not?"

"Dooonn' wannna."

"I-- That may be. However, that's not really an option." She makes a move to grab their wrists and they jerk back. She lurches forward, just barely managing to catch them before they can brain themselves on the cement roof. A quiet hiss escapes them and the blonde's grip on their hand tightens.

"Look, it's protocol. I can't just--"

"NNNOOoo!"

"Please. I'm begging you--" They try to throw themselves backward again. She's convinced this is a child. They have to be. There's just no way they're not. "Fine! I will go around."

She wiggles the end in-between their wrists and hooks the other handcuff around their upper arm, leaving their hands in an awkward 'V'. Only for now, as soon as one of them lets go it'll slide down. They're skinny enough for it not to leave the cuff too loose, aaand now she's ignoring that too. Nonki moves on to the blonde.

"I don't suppose you'd be willing to let go?" They open their mouth and lean forward, very clearly trying to bite her. She dodges it easily, simply stepping to the right. "Yeah, didn't think so either."

The blonde receives the same treatment, and she earns a low growl for her efforts. It might've been intimidating, if not for the fact she's heard worse out of her wife. Hell, she's heard worse out of Tsukauchi. Now that is scary. Never try and keep that man from his coffee. All-in-all, it leaves their attempt looking almost cute in comparison.

She raises a hand to her ear, keeping her eyes on the pair in front of her. "We may have a problem."

Her comm crackles to life. "Did they escape? Don't tell me they got away, they knew about the meet before--"

"Whoa. Easy there Ryu, I've still got 'em. We just, look they may be stuck together."

"What."

"Listen-- they were very stubborn. You're lucky I got the cuffs on them at all."

"They can't have been that bad."

"One of them kept knocking themselves over to avoid me. The other one tried to bite me, Ryūtai. They missed, obviously, but it's the thought that counts." In front of her, the blonde stuck out their tongue. She stuck hers out right back. Listen, no one ever accused her of being mature, and, in her wife's words, 'the little shit was asking for it.'

"Didn't you gas 'em?`"

"That's just it! I did. They were slurring, they kept tipping over, they literally fell on their asses when it hit them! They were higher than a kite, completely out of it! And still, still they manage to, to-- Bah!"

"To what? You still haven't told me why they're stuck."

"They won't let go of each other. They're holding hands."

Ryūtai laughs in her ear and she scowls. "That's it?"

Nonki scoffs. "What do you mean 'that's it?'"

"I mean that's it? I thought they were fused together or something. Just pull them apart and be done with it."

"Oh wow, what an idea! It's almost like I fucking tried that already. They tried to bite me."

"Yeah, but you said they missed. Just--"

"Ryū." She looked over the side of the building and stared the policeman dead in the eyes while smiling down at him. "If you do not get up here and help me bring them down, Kami help me I will drop a grenade on your ass."

He shivered and headed towards the fire escape. "Coming."

"Smart choice."

Nonki watched as he climbed the rusty ladder. He ends up getting stuck on the top platform and she has to pull him up onto the roof. When Ryūtai sees them he bursts out laughing, doubling over. She turns around, only to see the Greenbean list over onto the blonde. Nonki watches as they tip over in slow motion, ending up a slumped pile of limbs. Still holding hands, she notes.

"They're tiny!" Ryūtai wheezes. "You're telling me you couldn't just pick 'em up?"

"Picking them up wasn't the issue. I can't get down with both my hands full."

"Alright, so I'll take one and you'll grab the other."

"That won't work either. See their hands?" She nods toward where the two are connected.

"Just--" He makes his way over to them. He reaches out and tries to lift the Greenbean's free arm, only managing to make them sprawl out. Gently, he tries to separate their hands. They hiss at him and he pauses, then continues. Big mistake.

"Ouch! They scratched me!"

"See? We'll have to take them down together. Go wait on the platform, I'll pass them down to you."

"Fine." He pouts.

Nonki moves over and attempts to pick them up. Key word: attempts. When she tries to grab them, they simply ragdoll and she's forced to pick them up in a fireman's carry. Somehow, they manage to get them down the fire escape, though it is a very long and complicated process. Finally, they place the two in the car where they immediately huddle together, smooshing impossibly closer. She sighs and gets in the driver's seat, pulling the keys out of Ryūtai's pocket. Wisely, the man says nothing about her choice of seat, instead quietly getting in the passenger side even though it's his car.

(Still behind the screen is Denki. Once the worry fades, he can't help but laugh. Sue him, the sight of a pro hero trying desperately to wrangle his slurring, stubborn boys is one of the funniest things he's seen in a long time. While not part of the original plan, Daze is a decent hero. She's a twilight, which is already a good mark in his books. Twilight heroes are generally in it to help people whenever they can, not for fame or money. The same goes for underground heroes. He also knows that, according to people she's arrested in the past, she's fair with her detainees. Denki watches as she and the cop place them in the back seat, only tensing a little. He doesn't know her, doesn't trust her, but he respects her enough to see that she won't hurt them on purpose. They'll be fine, at least until they get to the precinct. He just hopes they remember not to say anything until he finishes explaining the plan.)

—————

The ride to the precinct is uneventful, to say the least. Ryūtai nurses his scratch, whining the whole time. The two detainees in the back don't move from where they settled, curled around each other. Still fucking holding hands. It's alright, she'd gladly take stubborn but relatively mellow arrestees over combative ones. And no, despite Ryūtai's claims he did have that scratch coming. It's his own fault for ignoring the warnings, both hers and theirs.

They reach the precinct in no time, and the two in the back are transferred over to the waiting room that doubles as a holding cell. They go as easily as expected, not resisting but also still stumbling from the effects of her quirk. Ryūtai beelines for his desk and starts typing away in his computer, no doubt looking for the identities of their guests. Nonki sits them down in the chairs against the wall and leaves with a smile.

She stops by Ryūtai on her way out. "They're all yours," she says. "Good luck." She gives him a mock salute and heads for the door.

"See you for game night!" He calls after her. She waves, and then he's left with his thoughts and many questions. For starters, who the hell did they have in that holding cell?

—————

“This is them?” Tsukauchi wasn’t buying it. They were the number 1 villains? These were children, they couldn’t be more than Hitoshi’s age. No shot they managed to cause this much damage, at least not on their own.

“Pretty docile right? They got hit with Daze’s quirk, should have worn off ages ago but they’re still feeling it.” Ryūtai has his legs up on his desk, looking far too relaxed for a man who's about to be drowning in paperwork.

“Or they want to be here.”

“They’re villains, this is a police station! What reason could they possibly have for wanting to be here?”

“Oh I don’t know, maybe the piles of—,” He took a deep breath, Mic and Joke were always telling him to do that more. “Look, have they done anything since they got here?”

“No, they’ve just been sitting there.”

“Right. No escape attempts, no fighting arrest?”

“What are you not getting about ‘docile’ and ‘sitting there’?”

Fuck Mic and Joke. “AND THAT DOESN’T SEEM THE LEAST BIT SUSPICIOUS TO YOU?”

“Listen detective, I need you to listen real close to me. We chased them. You with me so far? Okay. During the chase, they got hit with Daze’s quirk. So now, now you see them as they have been for an hour. You know how they are?”

He railroaded on before Tsukauchi could interrupt. “They are, you guessed it! In a daze. So, no. No there have not been any escape attempts, because they are docile right now! You need a vacation man, all these late nights are frying your brain.”

“But—“

“No!” Ryūtai held up a finger. “No buts! The number 1 villains just fell into our laps. Take. The. Win.”

Sansa chose that moment to enter the room, a paper cup in his hands. "I'm sorry, we have who?"

Ryūtai spun around to face him. "Alright, get this. I received an anonymous tip about a trade going down for some trigger. I told the Chief, and he put together a team with me and Nonki. So we go down to the meet, Ayame kicks in the window and flushes the dealers out to the street. Nonki's on the roof next door, ready to gas them when they get out, and she sees two people on the roof across the dealers place. Diagonally, or whatever. Anyway, she starts chasing them, gasses the dealers for us and then the two on the roof. Which," Ryūtai holds out his hand. There's a pink line on his palm with two little pinpricks of blood.

"One of them scratched me when we were getting them off the roof."

Sansa looks at him, unamused. "That's a paper cut."

Ryūtai gasps. "It is not. I'll have you know this was done with claws, mind you the claws of a very high person, but claws nonetheless."

"Wait, back up." Sansa shakes his head, ears flicking. "I thought you said we had the Wildcards in custody. Is this story even related?"

"I'm wondering that too." Tsukauchi said.

"Yes, it's related. I was getting there." Ryūtai huffs. "They have some kind of quirk effects on them. Cat ears, tails, claws, the works. Kinda like you actually, now that I think about it." He squints. "Anyway--"

"Have ? It's still active?"

"Will you stop interrupting? Yes, they still have cat features. Moving on ," He glared at Sansa, daring him to speak. Sansa shut up. "We got the cuffs on them, which was not easy, and no they did not fight back. They were just so floppy from Nonki's quirk that we had to physically move them ourselves. We got back here, and I put them in the holding cell while I looked for them in our database to see if we could nail them for anything else. That's when I found out who they were and told Nedzu and Tsukauchi over here."

"Speaking of which, I just got a text from Shouta." Tsukauchi chose that minute to cut in. "He's on his way, said the rat has 'something to offer the boys'. His words, not mine."

Sansa turned to Ryūtai. "Do you know what he wants?"

Ryūtai shrugged. "Not a clue. He just said to be notified about anyone we detained that was a minor."

"They're minors ?" Sansa gasped and Tsukauchi nodded.

"They're 15. Same age as Hitoshi."

"Oh!" Sansa's ears perked up as he turned to look at Tsukauchi. "I almost forgot, Hitoshi brought you and Aizawa coffee. I put it on your desk."

"He did? That's sweet of him. I'll be sure to let Shouta know."

"Let me know what?" All three men startle, Ryūtai falling out of his chair. Sansa looks around Tsukauchi as he spins around. There, wearing his signature jumpsuit and scarf was Aizawa Shouta.

Tsukauchi pressed a hand to his chest. He stared Aizawa down. "When did you get here?"

Aizawa smirked. Well, his lips twitched ever so slightly upwards which, to anyone he's close to, is as close as he gets to smirking. "Just now. Surprised?" He walked over and pulled Ryūtai off the floor. "What was it you were going to tell me?"

Tsukauchi hid a smile. "Hitoshi left coffee for you. It's in my office."

"Nice. I need it after dealing with that damn rat."

"What did he send you for?"

Aizawa scowled. This, he showed with his full face. "I can't tell you unless they accept. Damn rat made me sign a nondisclosure agreement. Now," He moved so he was facing all three officers. " I want to get this over with. Where are they?"

At this, they all looked at Ryūtai. He shrugged. "Daze put them in the meeting room cell. Y'know, the one we use for overflow?"

"Shit." They all turned to Sansa. "I put Hitoshi in there."

Chapter Text

A small child with golden hair asks, “Mommy, what are you doing?”

“Nothing sweetie, just go back to your father okay? You’re meant to be training.”
_____________

“Think of it like a puzzle, okay? If you push here, and pull on this bit then—“

Pop. Bone crunches. The child flinches.

“Look, you did it!”

“I did it?”

—————-

An older version of the child takes the scene. This one has black hair, a neon stripe of yellow carving a lightning bolt through it. He is tired, worn. Fresh electricity burns and cuts litter his skin, mixing with older half healed ones.

“You’re making progress. However, it’s still not enough. Your mother can shape electricity and you can too. Try harder.”

—————-

A teenage version of the boy takes the stage. He is older, and colder, and so very tired. More scars are present, collected through years passed.

“This is my son, Golden. He'll be taking my place in a few years. He’s my best assassin, but he can still be better. I’ve come to make you an offer.”

—————-

The teenager is out of breath. In front of him are several lumps of flesh, purple and misshapen like it’s rotted and been preserved. Stitches are seen where different pieces are connected, or where they used to be. Now, they are a neat pile of arms and legs, eyes and fingers strewn around the room. Electricity sizzles through the room, the very air charged with it. It smells like burnt meat. Blood boils as it drips from the boy’s knife. He wipes his chin.

Just like a puzzle.

—————-

“He’s indeed capable. He’ll train with my…sons.”
—————-

“This is Loki and Mimic. They’ll be your partners for the next few missions. They’ll tell you the rules.”

—————-

“I’m Izuku. Or at least, I was. Now, I’m Loki.”

“Neito. But now I’m Mimic.”

A tiny piece of light appears in the boy’s eye. “I’m Denki. But they call me Golden.”

—————-

The teenager sits with two others on a cot. The three are battered, various bloodstains littering their clothes.

“I’ll get you out, I swear.”

Neito doesn’t look up from tending to a cut on Izuku’s hip. “Us.”

“What?”

“We’re all going to get out. The four of us. But I need you to promise us something.”

“Anything.”

“Promise that if something happens, you’ll get yourself out. Leave us, and run.”

“I can’t—“

Izuku opens his eyes. Both stare at the teen. “Promise us.”

—————-

Police sirens are heard in the distance, slowly getting louder.

“Just a little farther, we’re almost there! I-“

“—aaAAAAAA-“ Twin shrieks, heard both mentally and physically. Both cut off just as abruptly as they appeared as two collapse after being shocked by something lying under their skin, unknown.

“Guys? Guys wake up!” Twin puddles of sludge appear under the two, swallowing them whole. No third appears.

He starts to shake. “No. No! You can’t just leave! Give them back!”

The sirens are getting closer, louder. Still, he stares at the spaces where Loki and Mimic just were. “NO! No you promised! YOU PROMISED! YOU SAID TOGETHER!” He screams.

The sirens are deafening, just a few blocks away. The teen wipes a tear and jumps, climbing up a fire escape and onto a roof, disappearing from view.

He’ll keep his promise. All of them. After all, it’s just another puzzle.

——————-

”Zuku? Nei? Are you there?”

“Denki?”

Denki hears their voice through the bond, and it's like he can breathe again. “Yeah, yeah it’s me. Izuku, what happened, are you guys okay?”

“Denki listen, it’s not safe.”

“Where are you? I’ll come back, I’ll come get you—“

“No. Denki, whatever you do, do not come back. Do you understand? It isn’t safe for you.”

“Nei, I can’t just leave you there! He’ll—“

“You will. If you love us at all, you’ll keep your promise and run.”

“Izuku, say something! Tell him he’s wrong!“

“Denki, you promised.”

“But you—“

“We’ll handle it. Right now, you need to disappear. Fast, you need to hide. New name, new face, whatever it takes.”

“Fine. But first, how did he find us? The collars were gone.”

“There’s something in our necks. I found a bump, and Nei saw a scar. It’s like a- a tracking chip or something. It’s small, I only found it after the swelling went down.”

“Okay. Okay, I can work with that. I’ll be back for you.”

“Denki, No. Don’t—“

“Let me finish. Not now. I’ll figure out a new plan. This time, it’ll be foolproof. I will be getting you guys out, do you hear me? I’m coming back. I swear it, I promise. Wait for me.”

“Okay. We trust you. Listen, your best bet to hide is still going to be our original plan. There’s just one more thing.”

“What? Did I miss something?”

“More of a new development.” Their sadness bleeds down the bond, hitting Denki like a stab in the chest. “We can’t keep the Soul Link.”

Denki’s heart stops. “What?”

“We can’t. It’s not safe for you, not with all of His memory quirks. We’re sorry.”

“No, we can’t. I can’t— Not without you, I—“

“Shh, it’s okay Love. We’ll be alright. You will be too. You’re strong, and we have faith in you. But you understand, don’t you?”

“I couldn’t take it if we were the reason you got caught. We couldn’t take it.”

“I— I’m sorry. I’ll do better.”

“Oh, Denki. You did good. You did so good. We’ll see you again.”

“I know. I’m still sorry.”

“We know. Love you.” A wave of warmth, fondness, happiness, care, love rushes down the bond before Denki feels the string binding them start to fray. He doesn’t fight it. He knows they’re right, even if it hurts to do this. Even if he knows he’ll overthink it later. “We’ll wait for you. Goodbye.”

Unwelcome, tears start to prick at his eyes. “Goodbye.”

——————-

Two days later, a fight takes place at a warehouse. The after-action report filed is vague. Endeavor, who had been chasing a pair of young teens received an anonymous tip. He changed course immediately. Endeavor led a team of sidekicks in to capture Golden, the newest lightning killer. But something went wrong. A shot of Hellfire missed the target, not an uncommon occurrence, hitting a barrel instead. What is strange is that the barrel explodes on contact.

The fire moves quickly, jumping from one combustible to another until the whole place has been set ablaze. Most of the heroes are able to escape, save for two. Based on the level of damage and proximity to the initial blast, Golden and the two sidekicks are presumed dead on site. Unfortunately, no remains were ever recovered, neither his nor the heroes.

——————-

Denki sits up with a gasp. He raises a hand to his head, covering his eyes and fighting the urge to groan. Another night of memories it seemed. Most of them are random, whatever his subconscious has decided to cook up, but his last conversation with Loki and Mimic always makes an appearance. Always that night.

He takes a deep breath, holding it in for one, two, three, four counts before letting it out slowly. Square breathing, or whatever Mayhem had called it. Ironic for an arms dealer to be teaching breathing exercises, but perhaps Golden had just looked that pitiful.

He doesn't like to imagine how he looked the first time he showed up on their doorstep, but when he has to he can't picture it as a pretty sight. Still, Mischief and Mayhem had helped him, and for that he is, and will forever be, grateful. Golden always remembers his debts. They may say he doesn't owe them anything, but Golden knows otherwise. Kindness is a luxury in the Underground, and he makes sure to thank them. Golden would like to think he's made strides in paying them off though, by securing goods and taking out their competition.

Denki drags the hand down his face. He gives himself one more minute to wallow before he pushes himself to his feet, heading to the bathroom. He doesn’t bother to check the clock, already knowing that he has time to patrol. Ever since he left, Denki has had trouble sleeping. He did before as well, but it got better when he was living with Izuku and Neito. When they were the Wildcards. Denki already knows why. No matter how many times he checks the window, no matter how many times he reinforces the door, no matter how many knives he hides under his pillow, there is a part of him that still won't feel safe. He could fall asleep holding a gun and he still wouldn't be able to settle. No, that is something Denki has only ever been able to find with someone he trusts.

Denki runs through his routine on autopilot. He washes his hands and reaches for the jar of hair dye, slathering it into his mess of hair. It doesn't have to be neat, just covered. It hides the mark streaking through his natural hair, one of Denki's most recognizable features. He doesn’t bother to recolor the stripe, hasn’t in a long time. That jar of dye remains unopened but on hand, just in case Golden needs to come back from the dead. Which, it seems he’ll be doing in two days.

No, instead Denki turns the rest of his hair black, hiding the lighting bolt in plain sight. He pulls the top half into a small bun, leaving the bottom section to brush against his neck. He swaps out two of his piercings, replacing his bridge and his eyebrow with clear studs. The rest he leaves alone. Concealer covers any of his freckles that might peak out under his half mask. Like this, Denki could be anyone.

The first time he did this, he wasn’t intending to help anyone. Rather, it was the opposite. Denki was low on cash, looking for a new hit to take on, and he found one. It was only after he had completed the contract that he discovered someone else was there. A little girl, no more than seven, had been locked in one of the closets. She was far too small and shaking like a leaf. Denki couldn’t take her, obviously, but there was also no way he was leaving her on her own.

Instead, he cleared the rest of the apartment. Together, they raided the place for blankets and built a nest on the floor, and then Denki told her to wait. He tripped an alarm, alerting nearby police, and then he watched from the next roof as a detective came to get her. Denki ended up following them all the way to the police station, unable to walk away without making sure she was safe. That’s where he sees Eraserhead for the first time, not that the man knows it.

The next time something like this happened, Denki had called that precinct to request the detective and Eraserhead specifically. He doesn’t say much, just that there was a child at an address that needed help, and for those two to go pick him up. Denki makes sure he’s out of sight by the time the two arrive, but he feels better about leaving this time.

The third time it happens, the detective, Tsukauchi, asks for a name. He claims it’s to help with paperwork, but after Denki gives it to him, all his calls to the police are mysteriously rerouted to Eraserhead after he says “Blackout.” They link him fairly quickly to the up and coming villain that’s running under the same name, but apparently his actions are enough to bump Blackout to vigilante status instead.

Even if Denki doesn’t patrol in the normal sense, he does go out every few nights on a new job. More often though, Denki finds himself out late, looking for a fight. If he happens to favor hits on known traffickers, well, call it his acts of public service. Kami knows how much he would have to do if he ever got arrested. Hopefully, they gloss over that when he officially joins 1-V.

Perhaps he became a vigilante for the wrong reasons, but Golden has never claimed to be good. Neither has Blackout. There is a reason he refuses all of Eraserhead's attempts to get close, and it isn't Denki's trust issues. Blackout never planned to exist, how could he be expected to stick around? Better to avoid any messy attachments for when it's time to leave.

Denki sighs, checking his hair one last time to make sure no yellow is present before he leaves the bathroom. He snags a hoodie on the way to the kitchen, slipping it over his shoulders. There was no need for a fancy suit for Blackout, though he does still wear the under armor Izuku designed for him.

Denki hummed as he bustled around his kitchen, bopping his head in time. He grabbed a pack of instant noodles and made his way to the weird hot pot he’d found on a job. Something called a kettle? He vaguely remembers the target calling it that before he used it to bash them upside the head. Whatever it was, it made water hot when he charged it, and he could carry it around with the cord in his mouth if he had to do things. He did so now, wandering back over to couch mat that doubled as a bed.

He grabbed his comm link before plopping down, placing the “kettle” beside him. This was his last pack of noodles, but it was alright because he wouldn’t be needing to buy more. Just two more days. Two more days until he could see his boys again. One for processing, and one for the ruling, and then he would see them in class. No more pretending, no more hiding, and best of all, no more jobs from scummy business men.

Kami, he hated being dead. Hated staying away, hated being out while he knows what’s happening to Izuku and Neito. If they’re still there No. He refuses to even acknowledge that possibility, because it wasn't one. Their humanity, their personalities, the things that made them them were still there. They had to be. Even if they were hidden, Denki would help uncover them. They'd heal together. If it had to be with the heroes, then so be it.

Sure, there’d be training and some risk, but with his hacking and UA’s already tight security he was confident the three of them would be safer. Not completely safe, that would be pushing it, but at least better than they already were.

They’re getting out. All of them.

Chapter Text

The police station is loud. It’s nothing compared to the bar they blew up, but to two teenagers that were raised silently the police station is deafening. Loki resists the urge to hiss as he flattens his ears to his head. He would release the quirk, but he’s wearing quirk suppressant cuffs and he needs to keep up the pretense that they work on him. (They don’t work on him or Mimic, not the standard ones anyway, but that’s a mystery tool that’ll help them later.) He’s also not willing to give away the protection his claws and teeth give him, and Mimic doesn’t seem to want to either. After all, they both removed their masks for easier access to them.

They've been here for at least an hour by now. If the cops are at all efficient, they'll have figured out who they've arrested, which makes the masks useless. It's not like they do much else besides hide Loki and Mimic's faces, and now it doesn't matter if this disguise gets burned. If Golden's right, they won't be needing new ones.

Still, Loki keeps his ears flattened and ignores the urge to bite people, the same way he ignores the purple haired teen that was dumped in there with them and the way their quirk practically sings. He does, however, allow his pupils to thin into slits and takes great pleasure in the way said teen flinched when they lock onto him. He eventually looks away, and pretends he doesn’t notice the tired teen watching them. His skin feels like ants are crawling all over him but he grits his teeth and bears it, wrapping his tail around Mimic’s wrist to keep from lashing it.

Loki taps the tip of it against skin in random patterns, draws shapes and kanji to distract their roommate from their faces while he taps into his link with Mimic. It’s made by a quirk from before he met his father, and was one of the few quirks he was given willingly. The quirk is called Soul Link and as the name suggests it allows the user to form a link with someone else’s soul. The link has to be accepted by both people, so he can’t just force one on a person and that was what kept it safe from his father.

The link allows the people to share thoughts, feelings, and even pain, and can only be broken by the users. It makes their eyes glow slightly, but right now they both have cats eyes which are known for being reflective. Truly the perfect quirk for secret conversations in a police station.

Loki reaches for that link now and tries to focus his thoughts. He gently pulls on the connection in warning before he speaks through the link. "Okay?" He asks.

"Yeah. Just loud." Mimic replies. "Ears hurt."

Izuku hums and does his best to send comfort down the bond. He reaches out and wraps an arm around Neito’s shoulders, pulling him further into Izuku, and places his head in between his ears. Neito relaxes into him and winds his tail around Izuku’s waist. They’re both blatantly ignoring the other boy across the room and the way he blushes and coughs at the causal affection. Neito turns his head and smirks.

"Wanna fuck with him?"

"Absolutely."

————————————

Hitoshi had no idea how he gets into these situations. When he had gotten the text from his dad saying he was going to be late coming home, he decided to be a good son and bring his dad coffee. He let him know as much, and his dad was surprisingly okay with it, only asking that he bring some for Tsukauchi and tea for Sansa as well. So imagine his surprise when he arrives, delivers the drinks and is promptly shoved into a waiting room with two other teens.

He gives them a quick once over, notes the cuffs and decides not to bother them. One of them has green hair and matching eyes, and the other is blonde. Blondie seems perfectly content to ignore him, curling into Green who stares at him. His pupils are slits and Hitoshi swears his eyes are glowing. He looks away after a moment and Hitoshi takes it to try and calm his racing heart.

He studies the people across from him. At a second glance, he can see something moving in both boys’ hair and claws on their fingers, as well as the tails that are curled around each other. What draws his attention most though was their eyes. Both boys have scars on their faces, Green having an alarming six in a snowflake shape over just his left eye, but their eyes, while they glow ominously, look dead. They are unreadable, carefully blank in a practiced way and look almost glassy.

(He wonders what could have happened to make them look like that and Hitoshi remembers a time, before he met his dads, that his eyes looked the same.)

Green looks down at Blondie and his pupils dilate from slits into ovals. His eyes seem to soften slightly as he wraps himself further around the blonde and Hitoshi watches as both their eyes gain a mischievous glint. They turn towards him at the same time and Hitoshi is frozen under two pairs of glowing green and grey irises. In all his years spent in public school, Hitoshi has never felt more like prey.

A faint rumble comes from the two and he can’t help but flinch. It’s small, but he knows they catch it from the way their tails swish. Hitoshi reminds himself that they’re both wearing cuffs, and are across the room, and yet something tells him they could change that very quickly. His quirk is useless as neither of them have said anything since he was put in the room and Hitoshi isn’t confident enough in his hand to hand to take on two people with claws.

Hitoshi chooses peace. He gives a little wave and is rewarded when Green blinks and snorts. Blondie brings up a single hand to return the wave and it’s then Hitoshi realizes that Blondie no longer has his cuffs on. They lay innocently across his lap. Blondie follows his gaze and lets out a huff suspiciously close to a laugh when he sees what Hitoshi's focused on. Hitoshi watches as he brings a single finger to his mouth, holding it in a 'shh' movement and smirking. Green, in a similar fashion, chooses this moment to reveal that he too has removed his cuffs, holding them on one finger in front of his face, opposite his scar. He’s grinning, scanning his face for a reaction and Hitoshi can’t help but feel like they’re messing with him.

He blinks and then suddenly they’re no longer across the room, instead sitting on either side of him. He startles and would have fallen out of his chair had it not been for the blonde grabbing the back of his shirt and placing him back down. He’s surprisingly gentle. Green’s tail drapes over Hitoshi’s shoulder and taps against his neck. Hitoshi feels heat rush to his face at their sudden proximity, and he can only hope he’s not blushing too hard. Hitoshi is so fucking anxious right now, and so far out of his depth. The last thing he needs is for the two strangers to notice it.

They’re both still staring at him, but it’s less hostile now, more curious. They seem like they’re waiting for something so he very quietly whispers, “Hi?”

————————————

Truth be told, the two boys didn’t really have a plan. It was funny how jumpy the other teen was but they didn’t want to actually hurt him. So they had waved back and sat closer to the boy but none of them seemed to know where to go from there. Not even Golden had anything to say, still radio silent over the comms. Izuku had no doubt he was watching this all go down over the surveillance systems, but it's probably not safe to make contact yet. They'll have to get the more detailed plan from him later.

"What the fuck do we do?" Neito so eloquently asked, interrupting Izuku's train of thought.

"Say hi back?" He replied. He tips his head and looks at Purple, who’s currently imitating a statue. His eyes look faintly panicked and it’s only then that he realizes how this might come across. "Maybe back off a bit. He looks scared." And indeed, at a closer look Izuku can see Purple’s hands lightly shaking from where they’re positioned in his lap, palms up.

He leans back and removes his tail from Purple’s shoulder, instead settling it near his leg. Neito does the same and some of the tension drains from the boy. He gives Purple the same little wave Neito did earlier and debates speaking. He settles on signing hello back to him.

"I’m gonna sign to him."

"What if he doesn’t know sign?"

"Then he thinks we’re adopting him into a gang."

"That’s not better."

"Do you want to purr?"

"Fuck. No."

"Then I’m signing."

Izuku turns to Purple and starts signing. ‘Hello. Do you know JSL?’ Purple’s eyes widen.

“Holy shit.” He whispers and promptly turns tomato red. Izuku squints and gently pokes him, causing him to flush darker.

‘You ok?’ He signs and then privately to Neito he thinks "Did I break him?"

Neito just shrugs, showing his confusion physically as well as over the bond. "No idea."

They both turn to Purple who coughs under the scrutiny. The impromptu staring match is broken by the door opening to reveal a tall man with dark hair and tired eyes. His hands are buried in some kind of scarf. He blinks, looking at Purple and then at them and then finally his eyes rest on the cuffs they left in their previous seats.

“How did you— Never mind, I don’t want to know. Hitoshi?” The mans voice is low and gruff but not mean and his eyes are focused on ‘Hitoshi’. Izuku’s fairly certain that’s his first name so he’s just going to stick with Purple. Purple straightens. His cheeks are still red, though a lighter shade than they were before.

“Your father’s here to pick you up,” The new guy tells him and while those words send a shock through Loki’s chest, Purple seems fine.

“Cool,” he says and waves at them once more before walking out of the room. Loki and Mimic, now significantly less comfortable stare after him for a moment before turning to the new guy, who stares right back.

“I’m pro hero Eraserhead, but you can call me Aizawa. I’m here to offer you a deal.”

————————————

Golden sits in front of his screen, watching camera footage with bated breath as he makes sure Loki and Mimic are okay. He would have reached out already, but no! The cops just had to throw someone else in there, and so now Golden is stuck with surveillance. It's not even a criminal, at least they would know to keep away. No, instead it's some guy from 1-A, who, like an absolute fool, decides to stare down Loki the literal second he enters the room. Shinsou Hitoshi, Golden recalls. That hair is so recognizable, Golden would have to be an idiot to forget him.

Honestly, most of 1-A has hair like that. It's shit for undercover work, but at least it made Denki's job easier. Really, the wonders a bit of hair dye and gel could do.

Still, Golden wonders what Shinsou did end up in jail. The cell doesn't look like much, it's actually rather cushy, but the detective did still put Loki and Mimic in there. Or at least, he allowed them to stay there after he put the pieces together. Golden knows Eraserhead is on his way, perhaps Shinsou came to visit his father? Golden's not 100% sure they're related, but I mean, c'mon. Look at them. They come to school with the same cat hair on them, for Kami's sake! They're not exactly being subtle, and Golden has a feeling some of Shinsou's classmates have also figured it out.

Regardless, that's not really a reason to end up in a cell. Golden doesn't really care why Shinsou's there, he's honestly bothered by the fact that he's there at all, but wouldn't it be something if the Hero teacher's son had something to do with villainy? Now that might get his attention.

Golden focuses back on the screen and snorts. Loki has apparently decided to look back at Shinsou, and the two are locked in a rather odd looking staring match. Mimic's watching him too, and Golden smirks as Shinsou visibly swallows. He's never been so glad to have audio access in his life.

They growl, and Shinsou flinches. He seems to consider something, and then he waves. It might just be the smartest thing Golden has seen him do. The wave catches Loki and Mimic off guard, and they seem to bluescreen. Golden can practically see the little wheel spinning. He wonders if that was what he looked like, when he first got out.

To their credit, Loki and Mimic recover in seconds. Mimic waves, finally slipping out of his cuffs. Golden was wondering how long they'd leave them on. It's Shinsou's turn to be surprised, likely not having noticed the sudden lack of bracelets. Mimic grins, cheeky little shit, and holds a finger up to his mouth to silence Shinsou. In contrast, Loki lifts his cuffs up opposite his scar, practically daring Shinsou to say something. They always did have an eye for showmanship, and it always showed in every plan Loki made.

The two move suddenly, probably when Shinsou blinks, and seat themselves on either side of him. They take their masks with them. Shinsou startles, falling out of his chair, and Golden cackles. He's so jumpy now, and it's at odds with the unfazed student side of him Golden has seen in class.

Mimic catches him, of course he does, setting Shinsou back to rights as Loki drapes his tail over his neck. Mimic leans forward, curling his own tail around Shinsou's shoulder. The new position boxes him in, and it makes Shinsou look far more nervous. Good. Maybe now, he'll figure out who he's dealing with. The scars should have given it away already, masks too even though they aren't wearing them, but Loki and Mimic aren't known for having a cat mutation. But surely Tsukachi didn't send his godson in unprepared? 'Unless...' Golden tilts his head. 'He doesn't know Shinsou's in here.'

Golden smirks. This just got a whole lot more interesting.

"Hi."

The screen grabs Golden's attention again as Shinsou opens his mouth. Golden thinks he sees Loki's eyes light up, and then Mimic's, but he can't be sure with the distortion of the camera lens. Still, he wouldn't be surprised if they were using Bonds. Golden... misses doing that. It's a unique sort of thing, to link your soul with another persons. It's a special thing. He'll be glad to have it back, if Loki and Mimic meant what they said earlier.

Golden shakes himself out of it. There's no point in missing them, not when they're right in front of him. All he needs is for Shinsou to leave the room, and he can let Loki and Mimic in on the plan.

Loki's signing to Shinsou, but he doesn't get to say much before the door opens. Golden grins. There he is. Eraserhead doesn't quite slam open the door, but he's definitely not slow about it. He very quickly pulls a rather embarrassed looking Shinsou out of there. Fucking finally.

Eraserhead's gaze lingers on Loki and Mimic. He's not happy with how close they were to Shinsou, that much is clear, but Golden knows he'll do his job. He might even go so far as to say he trusts him, at least as Blackout. Loki and Mimic will be fine. Golden will make contact with them as soon as its safe to. Even if he didn't trust Eraserhead, Golden made sure to hole up close to the precinct. He'll be able to bail them out if anything goes wrong. For now, all they can do is wait.

Chapter Text

“Aizawa-san, if I may-“

“No.” Shouta cut Nedzu off. “They’re not keeping access to their quirks.”

“They’ll need them for training, and you can’t keep your quirk on for that long. But you already know that, just as well as I do. So you plan to keep the cuffs on them? And leave them at a disadvantage against their classmates?”

“Dis- Disadvantage? Nedzu, they're Japan’s most wanted criminals. I can guarantee you they won’t be at a disadvantage against a class of first years.”

Nedzu gave him a blank stare. Shouta sighs.

“It’s not permanent, alright? Just until we can be sure it’s safe-“

“For who?”

Shouta blinked, taken aback. “Who?”

“Yes, safe for who? The students? The faculty? The school?” The principal sighs. “You don’t know, do you? It’s not entirely your fault, it’s how you were taught to be a hero, but I think we can learn. Change is coming, Aizawa-san, and I have a feeling that this class will be the start of it.”

Across from him, Shouta sat in shock. He was clearly processing the words, and Nedzu thinks back to when he wasn’t Aizawa-san and instead little Shouta-kun, asking for advice on how to move into the hero course. While at a disadvantage at first glance, his situation too canceled out between quirk and experience.

Nedzu fights the urge to sigh. “The cuffs can stay, so long as there are no chains connecting them.”

Startled, Shouta looked up from his pondering. He blinked, and then muttered, “They’ve already taken care of that.”

At this, Nedzu’s ear twitched. “Oh? And they haven’t tried anything?”

“No.”

“Well then, it seems you have your first building block of trust.”
_________

The day before

"I’m pro hero Eraserhead, but you can call me Aizawa. I’m here to offer you a deal.”

Loki and Mimic glanced at each other, before turning back to Shouta. He didn't like the way their eyes lingered on Hitoshi, or how close they'd gotten to him. He'd never have let him wait in there if he knew that the number one villains would also be there. Realistically, he knows Sansa never would either, but that does little to curb his ire. Hizashi would undoubtedly mother hen Hitoshi as soon as he saw him and, regrettably, Shouta would be doing the same. At least, in a more discrete dignified manner.

Shouta sat down across from them, close to the door. It clearly didn't escape their notice from the way they tensed every time he moved. Loki and Mimic slide their masks back on, and now it’s Shouta’s turn to tense. While he can't exactly stop them, but he would much prefer to be able to see their faces. He does his best to hide his unease by squaring his shoulders.

"What I'm telling you now hasn't been released to the public yet. This year UA is opening a new course, called 1-V. It's a rehabilitation program of sorts, due to the recent spike of minors in the Underworld. Seeing as they cannot be placed in Tartarus, the principal has arranged with the Commission for a trial period of class 1-V. This is where your deal comes in. I assume you can see where this is going?"

Neither villain moved. Alright, two could play at that game. Smoothing his features into his signature poker face, Shouta continued. "You two will be the first two students on the 1-V track."

________

The drive home from the precinct is a long one, and Shouta heaves a sigh of relief when he walks through the door of their apartment. Muffin twines around his legs, meowing hello as he struggles to remove his shoes. All he gets from Nimby is a long blink, which is already more than he expected.

"How did it go with the little listeners?"

"They're not little listeners, Zashi. They're number one on Japan's most wanted list. Need I remind you of their criminal record?"

"They can't be all bad if Nedzu's letting them in the school."

"Nedzu, I don't know what he's thinking! I can understand the program, but to start so-- so-- It'll be putting a target on the school!"

"What is this really about, Sho?"

"Nothing. It's about the dangers this brings, and--"

"No. What is this really about, Sho?"

It's likely from the stress, but Shouta folds like a house of cards under Hizashi's earnest gaze. "I- I'm worried, alright? They're villains. They're some of the best villains we've seen and I'm worried about- about everyone! All of the students, what if they're not ready. They're kids, Zashi, what if they're not ready, and--"

"Hey. Hey," Hizashi stepped closer and gently placed a hand on Shouta's shoulder. "You're spiraling. Deep breath, okay? I think," he pursed his lips. "I think you're letting your emotions cloud your judgment, which is completely understandable, but I think it's stopping you from seeing the big picture. Yes, the students are children, but they're hero children. They've been taught how to handle themselves, and you've done such a good job. They're ready, Sho, and the only ones who could be remotely in danger are the first years, who will be constantly supervised. But the students aren't the only children here. I think you're not letting yourself see the 'villains' as children too. Because they are. They're kids, same as the first years, and I can guarantee there's more to their story than just waking up and deciding to commit crimes."

Shouta blinked, and Hizashi watched him process. Knowing his husband, he'd probably been running himself ragged worrying about the students. And, if Hizashi had to guess, it seemed that this situation was bringing up old memories to help confuse things even more.

The front door creaked open. "Hey, I'm home! How's e-- Oh. Am I interrupting something?"

There, in all his disheveled glory, stood Naomasa. "Tsuka? I thought you were with Nem tonight?" From the kitchen, a loud crash is heard as a cat, presumably Cirrus, launches off the counter to get to Naomasa.

"He," Naomasa nodded towards Shouta. "Looked pretty stressed when he left so I thought I'd stay here tonight, if that's alright?"

"Of course it's alright, it's your apartment too."

"Funny, I thought I paid rent for the one next door."

Hizashi huffed. "Get over here. I still don't know-- shoes!-- why you pay for that one when you're never there. You always sleep here or with Emi and Nem."

"Ah, but where else would I keep my things? Besides, the extra bathroom's nice."

"Come here." Shouta grabbed him and buried his head in Naomasa's shoulder, who laughed.

"How'd it go?"

"Fine. They accepted the deal, but they didn't even seem shocked that it was offered. They didn't seem much of anything, really."

"That I could see. They didn't do much after you left, aside from sitting closer together. I bet they could give you a run for your money with that poker face."

"Shut up." Shouta grumbled, though it lacked sting.

"Hey! Zashi, He bit me!" Now that stung.

"Girls, girls, you're both pretty." Hizashi started to pull away. "Now Sho, mind catching Tsuka up to speed while I make us some tea."

Both men looked at him in horror and he stifled a laugh. "Don't look at me like that, this a warm drink situation! And no," Hizashi holds up a finger. "Coffee is not an option." He heads towards the kitchen, twin groans following him.

Naomasa turns to Shouta. "So?"

Shouta frowns. "Nothing happened."

"Lies!" Hizashi calls from the kitchen. Cirrus rounds the corner and slinks in to be with him.

Shouta sighs, exasperated. "There really isn't much to say."

This conversation seems to be going about as well as pulling teeth. Despite their years together, and all of Hizashi and Emi's attempts to get him to open up, getting Shouta to talk about his feelings is still just as hard as it was in high school. At least, according to Hizashi and Nemuri, that is.

"Okay, well let's start with your talk with them. You seemed kind of out of it afterwards," Naomasa tries. "How did that go?"

"Fine."

A loud crash from the kitchen draws their attention as Hizashi whacks the stovetop. "Nothing to worry about! Burner's just acting up is all."

Naomasa looks back at Shouta. "That's all? Can you at least tell me what the meeting was about?"

"Nedzu offered them a spot in class 1-V. It's a new course he's trying to help reform minors that have been arrested."

"That's not a bad idea." Naomasa hums. "I take it they accepted?"

Shouta nods. "Yes. Now they're going to train alongside the hero kids. Damn rat already planned out their class schedules and everything. Apparently, I'm teaching Loki and Vlad has Mimic."

"Nedzu's splitting them up?"

"Yes, for safety reasons. Is there a problem?"

"I don't have one, if that's what you're asking. But they might. According to Ryūtai, those two are weirdly attached. Like, physically couldn't be separated, attached."

"I noticed. They were very close when I talked to them. They also," Shouta glares at him. "Got very close to Hitoshi. Too close."

Naomasa puts his hands up. "That was not my fault. In Sansa's defense, we hardly use that room. It's built to contain overflow prisoners, but we mainly use it as an extra break room. That's probably why Daze put them there. However--" He cuts Shouta off before he can speak. "That doesn't excuse the danger he put Hitoshi in. He's already asked me to apologize on his behalf to you and Hitoshi. Speaking of, where is Hitoshi?"

"Tea's done." Hizashi reenters the living room, three steaming mugs stacked in his hands. Naomasa lowers his arms and hurries to take one from him before his husband can spill one. "And to answer your question, Hitoshi is over with Emi and Nem. I checked him over. He was fine." He pointedly looks at Shouta. "They didn't hurt him."

"They could have."

"But they didn't. All the more reason to give them a little trust."

Naomasa looks between the two of them. "Am I missing something?"

Hizashi passes Shouta a mug. "What our dear husband here is leaving out, is that he has some reservations about Nedzu's choice of first students."

Naomasa nods. "That's understandable."

"I do not have reservations."

"That wasn't the case five minutes ago."

"Well it is now." Shouta snaps. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry. Look, I was worried. I still am, but I think you were right about my emotions clouding my judgement. I wasn't-- I'm not thinking logically about this, and it's making me biased."

Somehow, they had made it over to the couch. Hizashi sets down his mug and grabs Shouta's hands, pulling him down to sit beside him. "This isn't a logical situation. It's okay to be scared, Sho. Just-- Just try to remember that maybe they're scared too."

Shouta leans over to rest his head on Hizashi's shoulder. "They took their cuffs off. They had their cuffs off while Hitoshi was in there, we left him alone with the number one villains. They could have killed him."

"He's alright, Shouta. They didn't hurt him."

"I know. And I know they're children, but that doesn't excuse what they've done. They earned those spots at the top of our wanted list."

Naomasa sat down, resting one of his hands on Shouta's knee. "I understand where you're coming from. I have a feeling there's something we're all missing though, something that Nedzu knows. He wouldn't let them in the school otherwise."

Shouta sighs, sounding very tired. “You’re probably right.” He takes a sip of his tea and scowls at his mug.

“I normally am.” Naomasa wiggles his eyebrows at the other two and Shouta elbows him.

“Ow! ‘Zashi!”

Hizashi just snickers. “No, you brought that on yourself.”

“Mean. Mean husbands, so cruel to your spouse.” He flops over across both their laps, jostling Shouta’s mug and making Hizashi squawk.

He reaches over Naomasa to set it with the others. Hizashi starts to play with Naomasa’s hair, and Shouta takes a moment to just look at the soft sight in front of him.

“You know we love you.” Hizashi says.

“Uh-huh. Sure. You do.”

It’s just teasing, but Shouta still responds. “Love you too, you big oaf.”

Naomasa knees him and ducks his head to hide his smile in Hizashi's thigh. A hand gently scratches up and down his spine and he sighs, content.

Hizashi, for his part, is drowning in domestic bliss. How far they have all come from that dark place they were years ago. How far he's come. How far does he have left to go? Still, everything was worth it, he thinks, if it meant he could come home to moments like these.

—————

It's hours after Aizawa leaves when Golden finally feels safe enough to make contact with them. The comms tucked in their ears crackle and come to life, making them flinch minutely.

"Don't say anything. Don't let them know you can hear me. Move your tail to the right for yes, and to the left for no."

Golden watches the camera feed of the meeting room. On the screen, Loki and Mimic uncurl their tails from each other, letting them droop towards the floor.

"Alright. I watched the car they put you in but I couldn't get a shot through the windows. Are either of you hurt?"

Both tails flick to the left and Denki heaves a sigh of relief. For the first time in a while, he feels like he can breathe.

"Good, that's good. I can tell you the rest of the plan now. We have time. Listen, I managed to pull Havoc into the program too, but under their civilian name. She's going to be our trump card. It's important that we seem confident when we join the classes, more so for the teachers than the students. They need to think we knew everything before they even thought it. But before that..." He trailed off. "I know this program, and UA in general, is our best bet for getting out from under his thumb. We can try on our own, but it'll be a lot harder. But I need to know, are you two okay with this?"

Their tails immediately move to the right. He has to be sure though, before this gets further than he can stop.

"No, think about it for a moment. Really think about it. Are the two of you going to be okay being around the hero brats 24/7? Will you be able to handle acting constantly, at least for the first few days?"

Loki's tail stays put, swaying slightly. Mimic curls his tail tip up, letting it lash down on his right side. Two very clear yesses.

"Okay. Then here's the plan..."

-------------

Loki and Mimic don't sleep that night. They're too on edge to let their guard down, not even enough to be Izuku and Neito. So far, everything has gone the way Golden had said it would, and they trust that it will continue that way. Still, it's hard to relax, knowing the change they are about to go through. UA couldn't be worse than how they've been living, but it was difficult to come to terms with everything. It doesn't feel like it yet, almost like a dream, but they did the impossible. They got out. Not all of them They're going to be playing by a whole new set of rules now, most of them unknown to them.

But it's fine. They'll handle it, the same way they always do.

The two sit in the room, still as statues. They stay sitting together, wrists back in their cuffs, and try to prepare themselves for what is to come. Golden stays in their ears, even as the sky darkens and stars come out. He says nothing, but his quiet presence is enough. Tomorrow morning, their act begins.

------------

They are left alone, for the most part. There aren't many opportunities to perform, seeing as the officers don't interact with them beyond giving them food. Even then, they leave as soon as possible, refusing to even make eye contact. It's fine. Loki and Mimic prefer it that way.

Still, it would have been nice to know a little more about what they were getting into.

There’s not much to do in the cell. Loki and Mimic refuse to speak, and there’s only so many yes or no questions Golden can ask before the conversation hits a wall. Still, he tries, and they inevitably lapse in a comfortable silence.

Occasionally, the two can hear shuffling coming from Golden’s end as he packs. Like they’d been told yesterday, part of their deal includes living at the newly constructed UA dorms. Apparently, it would help them ’reacclimate’ to being around people their own age while also ‘maintaining a healthy level of supervision’. In other words, supervised babysitting. No doubt, that’s the reason why they’re not being bothered today. The faculty, including Eraserhead, are probably busy setting everything up.

It’s a pity, how much effort UA is putting in to keeping them separated. Too bad the Wildcards will have ways to work around it. What, you didn’t really think they’d be living apart from each other, did you? Please, they haven’t slept by themselves for seven years. Never mind being in a new place, surrounded by people they don’t trust? No way.

No, they’ll behave on camera, but as soon as they can they’ll be together.

Denki hums as he works. He gathers his things, laying them out in front of him to decide what to take to the dorms. It's admittedly a rather meager pile. He's under no illusions that he'll be allowed to keep anything that could be used as a weapon, but at the same time he can't bear to leave any of his things behind. They're his things, and he's never really had much of those. Denki is self aware enough to realize he gets attached to things that are his, more than he probably should. It's fine. He'll simply bring everything with him, and likely, if he behaves enough they should let him keep most of it. Hopefully. He's not sure how UA's rules are going to work, but generally good behavior is rewarded. At least, that's how everything in the Underground works.

In the Underground, being trustworthy is good behavior. Being predictable is, often times, good behavior. And most importantly, being obedient is good behavior. Following these things are generally rewarded with attachments, such as things you are interested in, or collaboration from other factions, or visitation to people you are close too. An eye for an eye and whatnot. It may not be the most ethical system, but it is clear and easy to follow. You learn the game, and you play by the rules, and then you claw your way to the top of the leaderboard. It's how Golden managed to be #1 on the villains most wanted list, before his untimely death. It wasn't long before the Wildcards overtook him; their crimes kept up at a steady rate while his started under a new name.

Expected, and in a sick sort of way, something to be proud of. These were their achievements, no matter how unwilling or how much blood, sweat, and tears went into it. It's only natural to be proud of something you've worked hard for.

------------

Shouta wakes up with a groan, already dreading the events of the day. He takes a moment to appreciate the scene next to him, his husbands curled around each other. Hizashi‘s long hair is fanned out behind him, a few strands going in Naomasa’s mouth. Naomasa has one hand up Shouta‘s shirt, and his other one is holding Hizashi’s. Likewise, Hizashi is holding one of Shouta’s hands overtop them all.

Shouta detangles himself and watches as they latch further onto each other. He swears he married two octopuses.

He stands up, moving to the closet. He has to dodge Hizashi’s grabby hands, attempting to find a suit. It doesn’t even have to be Shouta’s, he just has to look professional to meet the parents. Damn rat, making him update the students parents on the class list. No doubt today is going to be draining on his patience. It’ll be a wonder if they don’t lose any kids.

-------

Shouta clears his throat. “Right. I need you to sign this document before we can proceed.”

The woman in front of him squints and holds up a hand, the purple balls on her knuckles bouncing with the movement. “And what does this document mean exactly?”

“It’s a non-disclosure agreement, stating that by signing you are required to keep any and all information shared in this meeting private. If you share anything that is said here outside of the members of this household, UA is allowed to take legal action.”

The woman frowns. “Hmm. And what information is going to be shared in this meeting?”

“Unfortunately, I cannot tell you until you sign this agreement. If you do not sign this agreement, we will be forced to transfer your son to the general education track, as we need your informed consent. Additionally, if you wish to pull your son from the hero course after this meeting, that is allowed.”

“Doesn’t seem like I have much of a choice then, do I?” She takes the pen and signs her name at the bottom. “Alright, now what’s this about?”

Shouta takes a deep breath. “As you know, UA currently has courses for the business, support, hero and general education tracks. This year, UA is introducing a new track called 1-V. So far there are only two students, one placed in 1-A and one in 1-B.”

“And what does the ‘V’ stand for?”

“Class 1-V is for villain reformation. Due to the sudden increase in underage villains, the hero—“

“Now wait just a minute. You’re letting villains into UA?”

Shouta can feel his eye threatening to twitch. He holds it back. “As I was saying, ma’am, the hero commission has approved this course in hopes of keeping minors out of Tartarus. I can assure you, this program is safe.”

“So I’m just supposed to let my kid go to school with some, some criminals? UA is supposed to be a prestigious school, you’re going to let street trash in?”

“I promise you, the students safely is our top priority.”

“No. You will not be adding villains to UA.”

“With all due respect, this decision isn’t up to you.”

“Oh yeah? Just wait till the media hears about this. Villains, studying at a hero school?"

“Again, ma'am, you signed an agreement.”

Mrs. Minoru turns as purple as her fingers. “Well then, I’m pulling Mineta.”

“I understand, there’s room for him in the business or gen-ed tracks, though he would have to take the exam for business.”

She laughs. It is not a kind laugh, rather the one of someone who thinks they have the upper hand. “Oh, you misunderstand. I’m pulling him from UA entirely. You stain the whole school, no, hero society as a whole by letting villains in. Mineta is too good for UA, you’ve just proven that. I’ll have someone walk you out.”

She waves a hand, and someone pulls away from the wall. They lead Shouta back out of the house and close the door as soon as he’s over the threshold.

Shouta dusts himself off, making his way to his pink SUV. Hizashi’s idea, not his, but it did come in handy for a family as large as theirs. So far, they’ve only lost one kid. Onto the next house.

———

“Which villains?”

“I’m sorry?” Aizawa blinks.

“Which villains are you letting in?”

For safety reasons, I’m not allowed to say.”

“Bullshit. You want my informed consent, right? Then inform me.”

Aizawa hesitates. “A reminder Mrs. Bakugo, you are under a non-disclosure agreement. Any spreading of this information will result in—“

“Legal action, blah blah. Call me Mitsuki. Now who the fuck are you letting in?”

“The Wildcards are our first students.”

"You’re just gonna let some shitty ass villains into class?” The youngest Bakugo clenches his fists, small sparks starting to fly off.

“Kats!” Mitsuki smacks her son upside the head. “Don’t talk to your teacher like that you little shit!”

“Shut it, Hag! You’re not seriously okay with this?”

“As a matter of fact, I am. UA is a good school. I’m sure they know what they’re doing. I say he can stay in 1-A, Masaru?”

“I agree. If the hero commission approved it, I’m sure it’s safe.”

“Then it’s settled.”

Mitsuki and her husband wave him out the door, leaving the youngest Bakugo fuming on the couch.

------------

The rest of the house calls go off without a hitch, something Shouta is grateful for. As expected, none of the parents were very pleased with the addition of villains to the hero course, but most of them had faith in UA's ability to protect their students, while the rest simply didn't want to pull their children out after they worked so hard to get in to begin with. There was, however, a slight complication with the Kaminari household.

Nothing too severe, but Mr. Kaminari said his wife was out of the house for the day and refused to open the door, citing a bad cold. He said he didn't want to pass it along. All Shouta's attempts to convince him failed, and they ended up passing the paperwork through the doors mail slot. It was strange, and a bit inconvenient for the both of them, but it was legally binding which was all Nedzu really cared about. At the very least, it made an interesting story to tell his partners when he got home.

——————

It's Friday morning when someone finally comes to get them. At least, that's what Golden tells them. He's stayed on call with them since Loki and Mimic ended up in custody, only taking his earpiece out when he has to attend class. UA has only just started up yesterday, given their entrance exams were the day before they got arrested. Results were sent out the day of their arrest, but Golden didn't even bother opening it. He already knew the results, having already done the math to make sure he scored just enough points to make the middle of the class before shorting himself out. Easy to fly under the radar, and allowing him to scope out their classmates before the other two arrive. Students have a week to move into the dorms, and Kaminari Denki has conveniently waited to move in until they were all ready.

For now, all he has to do is play the part of a good little hero student until they arrive. Stage set. Make your way to your seats, the show is about to begin.

------------

Eraserhead walks in, two policemen following him. While he lingers in the doorway, Loki taps into the bond, reaching out to Mimic.

'Ready?'

'As I'll ever be.

In sync, the two look up and blink at him. Their lips pull upwards in creepy grins. Eraserhead was unfazed, simply flashing his own Cheshire smile back. Behind him, the policemen shudder.

"These are your uniforms." Eraserhead tosses a bundle of clothes at them. "We'll leave the room so you can put them on." He turns and walks back out the door, tailed by the police officers.

Loki and Mimic look between the wads in their hands and each other. Neither one of them has worn anything like this before. The style looks similar to what Kurogiri wears, but they'd never asked him how he put it on. Loki shrugs and starts removing his pants, soon followed by Mimic.

The new clothes are set on their chairs while they work at removing their costumes. Nothing too extravagant, just normal streetwear that's been reinforced enough to withstand several hits from an emitter quirk, and their masks. It wouldn't do to have to replace their costumes too often after all.

Surprisingly, the uniforms have been altered to accommodate their tails. They have to help each other thread them through the holes, but still. It's a nice gesture. The base of the uniform is simple enough, but things go south when they reach a single strip of fabric. Each set of clothes has one, so it's definitely a part of their outfits, but neither one of them is sure what. The pattern is similar enough to the rope Kurogiri wears around his neck, but the shape is different. Loki moves to tie it so it looks the same, but only gets as far as looping it around his neck. He's... not exactly sure how to make it the same shape. He turns to Mimic.

"Do you know what this is?" His voice is raspy from disuse.

Mimic frowns, holding his own up to inspect it. "No clue." He says. Mimic's voice fares no better.

Behind the door, one of the policemen gasp. After all, this is the first time either of them has spoken since they were brought in two days ago. Loki and Mimic's ears swivel to face the door. (Unbeknownst to them, Aizawa shoots the man a glare. The police officer winces and shuts up.)

Mimic tilts his head. "It looks like Kurogiri's... the thing on his neck?"

"His neck rope?"

"Mhm. His looked like a noose though. This is limp."

Loki pulls his away from his neck. He nods, confirming. "It is."

Mimic straightens and looks at him. "Do you know how to tie a noose?"

Loki shakes his head. "Not my thing."

"I don't--" Mimic stares at the strip of fabric, willing it to reveal its secrets. "I don't know how to either. I do knives." It dangles there, as if to mock them with its limpness.

"Does it have to go around the neck?"

"I-- I'm not sure. Kurogiri's always was."

"Hmm. We can--" Loki loops the cloth back around his neck. He folds one end over the other, pulling it into an 'X'. They both squint down at it.

"I don't think that's right."

"Maybe it's too loose?" He repeats the motion. Somehow, an end gets stuck halfway, resulting in a loop protruding from the rest of the mass. Loki frowns, and attempts to add another knot.

"I think that's worse." Mimic wraps his piece around his neck, tying it at the back like the choker they used on one of their missions. "This is... not better." He slips a finger under the fabric, tugging at it.

Eraserhead chooses that moment to walk in. He stops when he takes in their appearances, eyes lingering at their necks. Behind him, one of the police officers coughs to muffle a snort.

"Those are, perhaps, the worst ways I've ever seen someone wear a tie." Eraserhead drawls. He takes a step closer to them, and they take a step back. Their eyes never leave his legs but their posture is tense, ready to bolt. He frowns. "You can't go to school with them like that. Have you ever worn a tie before?"

Hesitantly, the two shake their heads. It seems their words have dried up.

"Alright, have you ever seen one tied before?" Two more head shakes.

"Is he mad?"

"I'm not sure."

Eraserhead sighs. "I'll need to fix them for you." He takes another step forward. Loki and Mimic jerk but stay put, though it's clear they don't want to.

"I'm going to go over to you now." This time he warns them before he moves. It does none of them any good if the two try and run, and Aizawa is in no mood to chase them down. He takes slow steps, keeping his hands away from his sides. Not that it matters, the two villains refuse to look up from his feet, even as he gets closer. He stops when he's within arms reach of them.

"Alright. Mimic, can you undo your own?"

The boy villain nods. "All right, do that. I'll work on Loki's."

Aizawa reaches out to Loki, making sure his movements are clear. Still, he flinches minutely when Aizawa's fingertips brush the fabric. "This is a mess. How did you even manage this?"

Loki says nothing and Aizawa sighs again. "You two will have to speak eventually." He says but drops the subject. Aizawa begins unraveling the knots. Beside him, Mimic works at the knot behind his head.

"I don't like how close he is to your neck." That much is clear from the waves of restlessness and apprehension Mimic is sending down their bond.

Loki does his best to ignore his own bristling to send comfort from his end. "I know. Just follow the plan.”

"This wasn't part of the plan!"

"I mean don't do anything to him. Follow what Golden told us, play it cool."

"He also said to mess with him a bit. Keep him off guard."

"Nei, no."

"I'll be careful." Mimic takes a deep breath. He pulls the 'tie' away from his neck, lifting his head to look at Eraserhead before he throws their old rules out the window.

"So, how's the weather outside?"

The hero doesn't quite startle but the words clearly surprise him, though he recovers quickly. "Oh? You're speaking to us now?"

Mimic smirks, flashing his fangs. "What can I say, you heroes left me starstruck."

"I suppose that goes for your friend over here too then?" Eraserhead deadpans.

"As a matter of fact, it does." Loki purrs out. Like hell he's letting Mimic do this alone.

Eraserhead grunts. He releases Loki's tie. "You work on getting that out. Mimic--" Eraserhead steps toward him. "I'm going to do yours for you. Watch how I do it, I'm not going to do this for you every morning."

Mimic flourishes the fabric for him, far away from his body. Eraserhead takes it with a huff. Still, he keeps his own body language open, telegraphing every movement. "Alright. Hang it around your neck. Make an 'X' with one side longer than the other." He explains as he works. "Then you wrap the longer end around the short one twice. Pull it through the big gap at your throat, then thread the long end through the second loop. Then you tighten it to sit at your collar." Eraserhead stops with the tie hanging loose, allowing Mimic to tighten it himself.

Mimic does so, slipping a finger underneath to tug at the knot. "So, where's your tie? Don't tell me the teachers get off without wearing these things."

Eraserhead grimaces. "It's a part of the teachers uniforms as well. However, the teachers can choose between wearing their hero costumes to work and the uniform."

Loki snickers. "Man, you must really hate ties if you'd rather wear your hero costume all day."

"My dressing habits do not concern you."

Loki raises a hand to cover his mouth, stage whispering to Mimic. "Think that's a yes?"

"Oh definitely." Mimic doesn't even try to whisper. He tugs at his collar again.

"I don't like this thing."

"Oh really? Couldn't tell." Loki pokes at the waves of annoyance coming over the bond. Mimic pulls on his end in response.

Eraserhead turns to Loki. "Your turn." He holds out a hand for the tie.

"Yeah Loki. Your turn." Mimic snarks, and Loki has never wanted to pinch him more.

Mimic itches to reach out and snag the tie from him, but he refrains. From the glance Loki gives him as he hands over the tie, he knows exactly where Mimic's mind is going.

Eraserhead raises his arm and both boys twitch, startling out of their thoughts. For a moment, they'd gotten a little too caught up in their bickering, forgetting where they were. Eraserhead doesn't mention it, simply fixing the tie around Loki's neck, letting him tighten it. Loki watches him as he slowly, making direct eye contact, tightens it just enough to make his collar lay flat.

Eraserhead frowns. "It needs to be tighter than that."

Loki tightens it an inch.

"No, it should cover your top button." He stares Loki down while he tightens it, nodding when it looks right. "Alright. Grab your things, its time. Congratulations, you two are officially students of class 1-V." He starts heading for the door, where the two policemen have been waiting. As soon as his back is turned Loki reaches up, pulling at his tie.

"Not. A word." He hisses through the bond.

Mimic sends a little laugh, amusement flowing freely. "Whatever could you mean?"

They follow Eraserhead out the door. The amusement quickly fades as they follow him through the halls. The two policemen tail them, doing nothing to make them more comfortable. They drift closer to each other as they walk, Loki reaching out to link pinkies with Mimic.

Eraserhead twists around to look at them. “If you couldn’t guess, we’re going to UA.”

He leads them out of the building and into a parking lot. A light pink vintage car is waiting for them and Mimic pauses. Unfortunately, it doesn't escape Eraserhead's notice.

"What's the problem? We have a deadline to meet."

Mimic doesn't take his eyes off the car.

"You two took one here just fine. I see no reason for it to be a hold up now." Eraserhead steps forward and opens the back drivers side door.

"Well I certainly wasn't aware during that ride." Mimic sends.

"I can't fix what you don't tell me about. Are you two having second thoughts about the deal?"

Loki shakes his head. "No. It's... small?" He tries.

Eraserhead frowns. "It seats eight, try again. Unless my car isn't good enough for you?"

"No! It's not that, it's just..." Loki trails off.

"Closed in?" Mimic finishes. It comes out more of a question than a statement.

"That is how a car works." Eraserhead says dryly. "Now, unless the two of you are claustrophobic, I suggest you get in it."

Loki and Mimic walk forward, glancing between Eraserhead and the door as they go. The hero waits until they've slid in, shutting the door with a sigh. On the other side, the two officers climb in, taking their seats in the front and rear passenger side. Eraserhead starts the car and Mimic tightens his grip.

"When was the last time you were in a car?" He asks. Mimics end of the bond is coated with anxiety and it bleeds into his tail, lashing against the door.

"Two days ago." Loki jokes and Mimic gives him a look. ”It’s been a long time, why?”

”Not since I started living with him.”

The car starts moving forward and Mimic spasms, tail puffing up. Beside him, Loki's claws come out and dig into Mimic's palms.

"Sorry," He sends, but makes no move to let go.

Mimic squeezes his hand tighter. "Don't be."

The ride to UA is fairly uneventful, all things considered. Mimic jerks everytime they speed up or slow down, while Loki stays tense the whole time, and they both let out a quiet hiss the one time they go over a speedbump. Eraserhead is kind enough not to comment on either thing.

Their first stop is at the gate, where two large security cameras sit atop the cement pillars. They swivel to follow the group as they walk through, and it sends phantom spiders crawling down Loki's spine.

The school is built more like a maze, with its winding hallways and identical rooms. There's little furnishings on the walls, save for the occasional engraving of the UA Highschool logo. They make their way to the second floor, where Eraserhead stops them at the top of the stairs.

"Mimic, you'll be going through the door on the left to join class 1-B. Loki, you'll be going through the one on the right with me, to class 1-A. 1-B is taught by Vlad K--"

Loki trips over his feet in shock while Mimic hurries to catch him. It's not faked, even if they knew to expect being separated. "Wait, you're splitting us up?"

Eraserhead glances at them. "Didn't someone tell you? Part of your deal involves attending the hero courses."

"No, I know that bit. But none of you said anything about us being split up!" Mimic grabs onto Loki's arm, pressing in close to the other. From the corner of his eye he sees the policemen behind him put their hands on their batons and he growls, tail lashing. Loki does the same, flexing his claws in warning.

Eraserhead raises a hand. "Get a hold of yourselves." His gaze flickers between the Wildcards and the officers. "All of you. Now," Eraserhead focuses on Loki and Mimic. "I'm sorry no one informed you, but this is how it's happening. Your options are the same, you can take the deal or you can go to prison. Class starts in one minute." He gestures for the officers to release their weapons.

From the outside, it would appear that Loki and Mimic are just staring at each other, seemingly having a conversation with their eyes. On the inside however, a much more colorful fight is happening.

"They're splitting us up now? Fuck. I thought we'd have more time." Mimic says.

"Look, I'm not happy about it either, but this is part of Golden's plan." Loki tries.

"I swear to Kami, the next time I see Golden I'm going to kick the shit out of him and his vague ass plan."

"It's not that vague."

Mimic crosses his arms, staring at Loki unimpressed. Somehow, he manages to look intimidating even while refusing to let go of Loki's arm.

Loki winces. "So it's a little vague. I'm sure there's a reason he's having us do this."

"You mean like he forgot to tell us?"

"He wouldn't forget something that important. Besides, he did tell us we were going to be separated. I'm not sure what you were expecting."

"You give him too much credit. I was expecting them to introduce us together because, oh I don't know, we're a duo." Mimic tugs on the bond in leu of waving his hand.

"Look. Do you trust him?"

"Of course I trust him! I'm just," Mimic uncrosses his arms. "I'm scared, Izuku. What if they take one of you away? What if something happens to one of you and I'm not there to do anything. They might not even tell me, and then what? I'll just be here, alone." His shoulders slump and he looks away.

Loki gives his arm a squeeze. "Hey. Don't worry about me and Golden. We can take care of ourselves, you know. Besides, you really think they could just take me away without you finding out? Like hell. We have the bond, remember? I'll be in touch with you throughout the day, and we'll find a way to sneak you in as soon as possible. This won't be the last time we see each other. I promise."

Mimic sighs. "Fine. We're remaking the one with Golden as well, if only for my peace of mind." He huffs. He looks up to talk to Eraserhead. "Well, we're already here. Might as well get on with it."

He walks past Eraserhead, pulling Loki with him further down the hallway. They stopped in front of their respective (massive, Kami it was good planning but made it so much more intimidating) doors.

Loki took a deep breath. He put his hand on the doorknob and turned to Mimic. “Ready to perform?”

Mimic mirrored him and smirked. “Let the show begin.”

Together, they pushed open the doors and step in.

Chapter Text

Tenko sits on his bed, quietly playing a video game. It's one from the pre-quirk era, some farming simulator called Stardew Valley. It's calming, and it helps pass the time while he's locked relaxing in his room. He's not oblivious to the cameras in the corners watching him, but if he ignores them for long enough, sometimes he'll forget they're there. Not often, but sometimes.

Even rarer are the times when the Wildcards are done with training and Sensei allows them to visit. Tenko likes those times best, when he can see his brother and his little blonde friend, even if they are few and far between. It's been a long time since he's seen them last. Tomura doesn't dare ask for more.

No, he is happy to spend his days training and playing his video games, and he's gotten used to the tests Sensei has the Doctor run on him. Not that he enjoys them, but they are part of his routine. Tomura has gotten used to them, and he doesn't try to fight them off anymore. Sensei has been so patient with Tenko, the least he can do is try to behave. Maybe, if he does good enough Sensei will finally think he's ready for his first mission.

"Tomura, come." Sensei's voice came from the speakers. A hole opened in front of him, blues and purples and black and gold spiraling until looking at it made you dizzy. He stepped through.

On the other side was a familiar room, painted an off-white with florescent lights fixed to the ceiling and smooth stone floors. In the center of the room were three neatly spaced metal autopsy tables, bolted to the floor and modified with straps. Tomura knew from experience they were sturdy, and no amount of movement would make them budge.

Only the middle table was prepped, with a metal cart set up beside it. Atop it was a tray, filled with syringes, vials, specimen jars and various surgical tools. A box of gloves sat beside it.

"Strip and sit." The Doctor said as he entered the room. He made his way over to the wall that housed the sink, not even sparing Tomura a glance.

Tomura hurried to obey, not wanting to make this any worse. The Doctor walked over and pushed Tomura over, forcing him to lie on his back. He strapped Tomura down, first his wrists, then his legs followed by his elbows, waist and neck. Tomura felt like a bug, spread and pinned like a dead moth to be put on display.

"Open." A strip of leather was held up and placed in his mouth. "Bite down. Spit that out and you'll be my next specimen for the Nomu trials. Understood?"

Tomura nodded. He knows to expect this, from all the other times the Doctor has strapped him down to peel the flesh from his milk white bones. From the incisions made for the sole purpose of letting someone to inspect the viscosity of his blood and the fragility of his organs.

"Good. Now, it's time for some upgrades. With my best works gone, I'll have to improve you enough to catch them."

He knew what that meant, and it was only shock that made him forget where he was. "Gone?" Slap

"Did I say you could speak? Stay quiet, or I'll silence you myself." The doctor ran a hand down Tenko's hair, petting him absentmindedly. "But I suppose you can know. Yes, they're gone. They managed to get past the locator on their chips, something we'll be fixing on yours. Not today of course, I don't think your body could handle the strain of that and the upgrades, but soon. It's not like you'll be going anywhere for a while."

Abruptly the hand tightened on his hair and pulled, hard enough to make him gasp. The force behind it was enough to lift his head off the table, straining around the bar at his neck. "They left you, you know. They might have run from me, but they left you."

"No--"

"Shhh." The hand yanked again, and Tomura could feel a couple strands break. "What did I say? Stay. Quiet. This is your last warning." The hand relaxed, not releasing but not pulling anymore. "Don't try to deny it, you wouldn't understand what happened. The chips were turned off. Not removed, or else they'd have activated, Turned. Off. That kind of thing takes planning you know. It seems you weren't a part of those plans. No matter--"

The Doctor released his head and turned. In his hand was a needle. "When I'm done with you, you'll be more than capable of bringing them back. Now, this is going to hurt." He smiled. It was a genuine smile, the kind that comes unwanted when you're truly pleased. "Scream if you must, but don't say anything."

With that, the needle was unceremoniously stuck in his arm. The plunger depressed and Tomura bit down to muffle his groan. It felt like acid in his veins, writhing and burning. He could feel it moving, leaving a trail of what felt like ice behind. When it hit his heart, he heard his jawbone click from the force behind his clenching. He screamed. The Doctor starts humming along.

The needle is removed and wiped clean and a piece of gauze is taped over the hole it left behind. He turns Tomura's face towards him, shines a light in his eyes. He sees sunspots when the light is finally put moved away. The doctor lets go of him to write something down on his clipboard. His hand returns with another syringe and the beginnings of a sob work their way out of his throat.

"Crying already? We've only just started."

The liquid in this needle is thick and heavy. It feels like syrup in his veins, like his limbs are weighed down from the inside. His arms feel like they've been placed in cement and with a start he realizes he can't move them at all.

"A muscle relaxer and a mild sedative. As much as I enjoy your squirming, I need you alive and we can't keep both for this next part." The doctor picks up a scalpel and Tomura closes his eyes, letting his mind drift away. Tomura does not remember what happens next. He does not want to.

-------------

When Tomura comes back to himself he is still tied to the table. The doctor is missing, gone back to whatever hole he lives in when he's not running tests on him or the others. Tomura aches, his teeth are sore and his jaw is stained with wine-dark bruises. His lip is bleeding sluggishly, he must have bitten it at some point, and his throat feels raw and meat-tender. Tomura doubts anything would come out if he tried to speak. He sports several new cuts, almost all of them starting to scab over. Two particularly large incisions are stitched closed, running parallel up his thighs. An IV has been placed in his right arm, a bag of something pale blue dripping down its tube.

"Tomura Shigaraki." Sensei's voice comes out from the speakers. It's his normal volume but this time it sends a stab of pain through Tenko's oversensitive ears. He'd flinch if he could but his body still feels heavy from the drugs. "It's time for your first mission. You have three days for your upgrades to settle in, and then you'll begin. Track down Loki and Mimic. Bring them back, and you'll finally be of use to me."

And oh , that's all Tomura's ever wanted. That's all Tenko's ever wanted. To be of use, to finally be worth keeping around. He's waited years for his first mission so why, why does it not feel good. Why isn't he happy about this?

-------------

Tomura’s heart beats sluggishly, pushing tar and molasses through his veins. (Tenko thinks.)

Something dark and thick, something that refuses to let go. (He thinks,)

It clings to everything; the walls of his arteries, the fine threads of his capillaries, the outside of his bones. (And he thinks,)

Tomura is a black hole, a neutron star, the pitfall trap and the poor sucker that fell into it. (And he. thinks.)

See, Tenko's used to being left. It's a common occurrence for him, routine at this point. His aunt left for work and never came back. His mom left everyday and she came back, until she didn't. Until they all left, until Tenko made them leave. And yet, this time it hurts . It hurts like nothing he's felt before, worse than a stab wound, worse than all the fucked up experiments the Doctor's put him through. It burns, hot and angry and loud, taking over his mind till it's all he can think about. And yet, he's still not allowed himself to process it fully. In his mind, they're merely delayed. The mission went bad, they got caught, went somewhere with a signal dampener for the chips they apparently have in their necks, like a fucking dog.

The doctor chipped them, chipped him like they're some kind of pets to be monitored. This had to be some sick fucking dream, but Tenko doesn't know when it started. He doesn't know how to wake up. And now, now he's here, by himself, just like before and he doesn't know what to do. Neito and Izuku, they made this place livable. It doesn’t matter that he hasn’t seen them in a long while, they were family. They were warm , and now they're gone and all that he has is the hurt, the hot that they left behind. If it hurts this bad already, he doesn't want to make it worse.

So, in his head, they are simply taking a little longer to complete their mission. They're coming back. They will. They have to. (Because if they don't, if they really left, then Tenko is here, alone---) They're coming back.

Ten— Tomura thinks he’s tired of being left.

Chapter Text

---------
Mimic threw open his door and stared. Nineteen pairs of eyes stared back, all filled with the same wide eyed curiosity. Mimic chanced a glance at the front of the room only to find the teacher already watching him. Vlad King, from what Golden had said.

The man eyes Mimic for a moment, scanning him up and down before seeming to come to a conclusion. "You don't look like much." Vlad King turns to the class. "This is Mimic. He's-- he?" The man glances back at him and Mimic's caught off guard. He nods, and the hero continues. "He's your new classmate, the one I told you about. Mimic, why don't you introduce yourself?"

Mimic nods again and steps further into the room. And then he just, stands there. Doesn't say anything, just sort of looks at everyone like he's sizing them up. The mask leaves everything to the imagination, with only his eyes being visible. He doesn't make any moves to do anything either, he just watches the rest of the class like he's waiting for something. Not even his tail is moving, and his ears stay firmly straight when Vlad clears his throat.

"O-kay, well your seat is right behind Kendo. Kendo, mind showing him where you are?"

At the head of the last column of desks is a person with bright orange hair. They give him a little wave. It's rather unnecessary given there's only one empty desk in the classroom, but it is what it is. Further down the column is a person with the palest hair and skin Mimic's ever seen, and another person with a few small scales dotting his arms and face like freckles. The pale one looks away as soon as he makes eye contact, while the one with scales seems to be looking through him rather than at him.

"There she is. You can take your seat now."

Mimic makes his way across the room, seating himself at the desk. His desk, so long as everything goes according to plan. Vlad King watches him go. When Neito meets his eyes again, all he sees in them is a wary curiosity. There is no outright distain, or contempt, the man merely studies him and moves on.

Vlad King clears his throat. "Right then, where were we?" He turns to face the chalkboard and Mimic is taken aback. The teacher turned his back on Mimic so easily, seemingly willing to leave Mimic as unwatched as his other students. It's rather foolish. This is the supposed impenetrable security of UA? If Mimic were anyone else, or was here for any other reason well, lets just say it wouldn't be the hardest mission he's ever been sent on.

Kendo turns around in her seat to flash him a smile. "Hi. I'm sure I'll get the chance to introduce myself again later but I'm Kendo. I'm the class representative, so if you need anything you can come to me or Kan-Sensei. We'll be helping you settle into your dorm later, but I notice you don't have any stationary. You can use some of mine."

She looks at him expectantly, holding out a notebook and pencil. To be honest, Mimic's not sure what half of those words mean, but he doesn't pick up any ill-will behind them. He nods, taking the items from her.

Kendo smiles wider. "Behind you is Reiko Yanagi, she/her and then behind her is Hiryu Rin, he/him. They're both pretty quiet. Most of the class is nice, but let me know if someone bothers you. I'll take care of them." She mimes punching her palm.

It seems like a genuine offer, and it brings a little smile to his face. Neito nods again, and Kendo's eyes soften a little more before she turns her attention back to Vlad King's lecture. Kan-Sensei's lecture. Things on his end seem to be going well, at least so far.

Mimic allows his mind to pull back slightly to tap into his bond. "How's it going?"

"Golden started a fight."

-----------

Loki throws open his door with a dramatic wave of his arm. He strode in, scanning over the students before zeroing in on one. Loki perched himself atop Kaminari’s desk.

“Hey cutie~” He tapped Denki’s nose with the tip of his tail.

“Hey yourself Loks.” Denki didn’t seem at all phased by Loki being so close to him. In fact, he was smiling as he reached out to bop Loki’s mask.

“I didn’t expect to see you here. Do they know?” Loki’s tone sounded playful and teasing, a deliberate thing.

Denki grinned even wider. “Not a clue. It was disappointingly easy to mess with my file enough to pass the screening. They’re lucky I’m not here on business. Mim’s here too right?”

“Kaminari? You two know each other?” Eraserhead cut in. Both boys ignored him in favor of continuing their chat.

“Oh? Had a change of heart did we? And yeah, he’s in 1-B as a ‘precaution’. The Commission doesn’t want us plotting together. They even gave me these lovely bracelets.” Loki stuck out his wrists, showing off the handcuffs he was wearing. The chain that should have held them together though, was broken. From the corner of his eye, Loki sees Eraserhead tense.

“Oh really? I take it they don’t know about your…?”

“Mmm nope~” Loki said, popping the p. “When are you planning to tell them? Or are you?”

“I’m going to, and as for when I guess now is as good a time as any. The cat’s pretty much out of the bag, no pun intended.” Denki winked. “Mind if I steal the spotlight?”

“Go right ahead Sparks.”

Denki stood and with a flourish offered a hand to Loki, which the masked person took as they climbed off the desk. They turned to face the class and still grinning, Denki spoke.

“I suppose introductions are in order. Well then, hello everyone!” He gave a little wave, leaning down in a bow. “My name is Kaminari Denki, but you may know me better as Golden.” With his left hand, he pulled out a butterfly knife and rose, before flipping the blade over and under electricity charged fingers.

Most of the class looked confused, except for Todoroki and Aizawa who were sporting twin looks of shock. Aizawa blinked a few times before his face settled back into its normal neutral displeasure. “You mean to tell me you’re Golden? The hitman? Number 2 on the villains most wanted list?” A few gasps rang out at Aizawa’s words.

Golden looked him in the eye and paused his flipping. The smile dropped. Gone was the laughable class clown, replaced with a hardened killer. “The very same. Don’t worry though, I’m not here on a job. I heard about your little villain program and when I found out of few of my friends were going? Well I just had to join in the fun~”

Aizawa felt himself tense even further. The situation was spiraling, fast. While he was active, Golden was… chaotic, to say the least. He had a reputation for switching personalities on a dime, and a signature for leaving no survivors. If Loki and Mimic were the Wildcards, Golden was the whole deck. If they were here together, well…. Aizawa needed to collect information and act accordingly. He flared his quirk, turning off the sparks dancing over Golden's hands. “You and Loki are friends?”

Golden didn't look at all surprised by his quirk disappearing. “That might have been before your time. We completed a few missions together, along with Mimic and Havoc occasionally. Tell me, did you know Havoc goes here too?”

“Havoc’s here?” Shit. They had an arms dealer in the school? Aizawa risked a glance at the security camera only to see it already facing the two villains at the front of the class.

“Oh not in your class no, I wouldn’t put all of us together, but they do go to UA. You didn’t know?" Golden grins, leaning forward slightly. "It seems your little program has more villains than you planned for, huh Eraserhead.” He wiggled his eyebrows at Aizawa.

“Right. Is there anyone else you’d like to tell me about?”

“Mmm, not that I can think of, no." Golden tilts his head towards Loki, though he doesn't take his eyes off of Eraserhead. "Loki?”

Loki swings their joined hands. “Nope, lucky for you it’s just us Eraser. I don’t think you could handle any more, it might just do your poor old man heart in.“

A snort was heard from the back of the room, and many of the class turned to see Shinsou holding a hand over his mouth.

“Aren’t you dead?” A boy with two toned hair asked. Todoroki, if Golden's memory is correct, which it often is.

“I am, aren’t I? Legally anyways, however the Commission is really bad at making sure people are actually dead.” Golden sighed, straightening. “None of us are truly dead. They just didn’t want to look.”

“Kaminari? Why?” Someone else asked. He didn't catch who.

Golden shrugged. “Why not? At first it was just to see if I could. I was getting a bit bored in the Underground, and I wanted to see just how good I'd gotten at hacking. What better place to test my skills than UA? After that it was just a game to see how long it took you to figure out, but that got boring very quickly. Like I said before, I found out a few friends were in the program and wanted in.”

Jiro rolled her eyes. “Nice try Kaminari. I’m not buying it. I saw you at the entrance exam. I’m the one who moved you when you shorted out. You? A villain?” She snorted. “Funny joke, Whey Mode.”

Jiro was firmly convinced his next sentence was going to be something along the lines of 'haha you got me.' Instead he smirked.

“You have to understand, the Kaminari you met at the exam never existed." Golden tilts his head. "I could tell you it was all an act, but I don’t think you’d believe me. So lets settle this the traditional way. Wanna spar?”

Jiro shrugged. “Sure. But when I win you have to admit to everyone you lied about being a villain.” Golden’s grin got wider, looking eerily similar to Aizawa’s trademark Cheshire smirk.

“If you win.” He corrected. “Gym beta is open. Eraserhead?”

The teacher in question paused, looking at the camera in the corner of the blackboard. It spun in a circle and Aizawa hesitated, before letting out a long suffering sigh.

“Fine. This will teach them not to underestimate people, and clear the air. However, I’m keeping a close eye on you, and you’re under the same rules as Loki and Mimic.”

“Yeah yeah, I know, no murdering the hero brats.” Golden sounded put down upon, as if he was looking forward to trying to kill them. “I take it you're authorizing this fight if I’m under the same rules?”

Aizawa squints. “Only this one. That doesn’t mean you can fight in training and before you ask, no you can’t start a fight if someone is making you mad.” Golden opens his mouth but Aizawa cuts in before he can speak. “This includes provoking them. If they swing first the punishment will be on them, but you can’t antagonize them.” Golden closes his mouth and pouts.

“You’re no fun.” He says and sticks his tongue out.

“Kaminari, I must inform you that your behavior is both disrespectful and unbecoming of a future hero. I insist you apologize at once.” Iida says, hands chopping through the air.

Golden blows a raspberry. “Who said I wanted to be a hero?” He asks innocently. He doesn’t give anyone time to respond. “C’mon Jiro, I wanna spar.”

Loki and the class made their way down to Gym Beta, lead by a far too eager Golden. How he could already navigate the school was beyond them, and only served to make Aizawa more uncomfortable. He wiggled around as he walked, occasionally skipping. It had been way too long since he last got to let loose and while he'd have to hold back, it was still exercise. He'd take what he could get, and be excited by it too.

“Alright. Golden, drop the knife and back away. Slowly.”

He did as he was asked, placing the knife on the ground with care before stepping away. He raised his arms by his head, palms out.

“Good. Now stay put.” Aizawa loosened his capture weapon, winding it around his arms.

Golden huffed. “You think so little of me Sensei?” Aizawa froze and Golden grinned. “After all, I am in your class.”

“We’ll see.”

“Oh? But you can’t move me to 1-B, then Vlad would have to deal with me and Mimic, which is the same problem you have, your quirk is just better suited for it, don’t you agree? And since you don’t know where Havoc is, that rules out moving me to any other course.”

Aizawa’s eyes widened, his equivalent to looking stunned. He glanced between Golden and Loki. “You planned this.”

“Of course I did, you didn’t think Loki and Mimic got caught on accident did you? Right when you opened up 1-V?”

“And what if you're expelled? Sent to prison?”

“Really Eraserhead, you expect me to believe you’d sent a kid to prison? That defeats the whole purpose of having 1-V.”

Jiro snorted. “You’re really going all out with this, aren’t you. How far are you willing to go for a joke?”

Golden smiled, though it was more akin to baring teeth. “Farther than you’d think.”

He shifted his feet and Aizawa twitched. He cocked his head back, looking the teacher directly in the eyes. For this to work, he had to seem fully confident and in control of the situation. One misstep and the plan would be ruined.

Aizawa’s eyes never left his. “Jiro, are you certain you want to do this? I’d advise against it.”

“Of course Sensei. I’ve seen him fight, I’m not afraid. Don’t tell me you actually believe him?”

Aizawa stayed silent.

“You do. Honestly, how are any of you buying this? Golden's been dead for a year. He’s clearly faking!”

Aizawa frowned. “Yes or no. Are you certain?”

“Yes!”

“And you agree that—“

“Aizawa-Sensei please. I’m sorry to interrupt but how many times do I have to say yes. I agree to any and all terms. Everything.”

“Fine. Golden, remove all weapons from your person.”

“Will I get them back?”

Aizawa’s eyes hardened and and Golden sighed.

“Didn’t think so.”

Aizawa gestured to a bench outside of the ring. Hands by his head, Golden made his way over. Carefully, he lowered one hand and pulled a knife out of his left pocket. Then one out of the inside pocket of his blazer. His tie was lifted and a small stiletto blade was removed from in between the straps of fabric. A switchblade was removed from the back of his neck, hidden under his shirt collar. He bent over and removed two from his shoes, and one from his pant leg. He hesitated before reaching up and unscrewing the chandelier of his earring, revealing a blade no longer than his thumbnail. Something in his eyes shifted, and that one was set down with even more care than the others.

Though each blade was removed with caution, every movement telegraphed, hesitance also coated his movements. He seemed reluctant to part with them, especially the one from his earring. Aizawa took note. Though they were not safe to be left with the boy, perhaps there was sentiment behind some of them. At the very least, he could keep the weapons from being disposed of.

“Is that all of them?”

Golden blinked, seeming to come back to themself. “Yes.”

“Alright. The two of you will be in that circle. Jiro, you first.”

Jiro moved to where Aizawa pointed. Far away from the weapons, Golden notices.

“The rest of you, stay over by the door. Loki, you stay where I can see you. None of you are to get involved with the fight.”

“But Sensei—“

“No. I will handle it if something happens.” Aizawa stepped closer to the circle. “I want a clean match. Golden, no quirk use, no weapons and no deadly force. You do anything I don’t like and the fight is over. Understood?”

“Yes Sensei.”

Aizawa’s face twitched. “Ready? Begin.”

The second Golden steps into the ring Jirou lashes out, swiping at his ankles with her earjacks. He jumps, and laughs. "Hey Sensei," he calls over his shoulder, ignoring his opponent. "Do we have to stay in the circle?"

Golden leans to the left, dodging her strike. She's got spirit, he'll give her that, but her technique is lacking. It's unrefined and it shows in the way she lashes out at any hint of weakness he shows with no follow-up. It's cocky, like she isn't expecting a real fight.

"Stay in the circle. The fight ends when one of you leaves or is otherwise incapacitated." Aizawa says. It's clearly taking every ounce of self-restraint he has not to break up their spar, but there's nothing he can do. Nedzu authorized the fight, and Golden hasn't broken any of the rules. All he gets to do is watch and stop it the second someone goes too far.

Golden smiles, focusing back in on his opponent. In the time he's been talking, Jiro has stabbed her jacks into the ground and started playing something through them. It's easy enough to avoid, but he still has to figure out what is if he's going to stop it.

It's something loud judging by the ripples it's leaving in the packed dirt, but it's rhythmic. Not in the way music is though, but it pulses in a steady pattern. It must be something on or in her but there's no phone nearby, so some kind of internal device?

He uses it to his advantage, lining up one of the ripples with a timed kick, sending a cloud of dust into the air. What gives it away is when the shockwaves stutter for just a second when Golden disappears from her view. Heartbeats

Golden moves, keeping his steps light and even. He has no doubt that Jiro can feel soundwaves just as much as she can send them out. The only question is, can she do both at once? Evidently not, because she lashes out with one of her jacks in the spot where Golden used to be.

Golden grabs onto it and pulls, making her shriek. He feels just how much it startles her in the way the heartbeats fall out of sync. Jiro skids forward, her earphone jack thrashing violently in his hand. Golden wraps it around his wrist, taking care to make sure the metal end lies over his pulse point. It lets her know just how calm he is and adds that little bit of fear start to manipulate her. Maybe now she'll take him seriously.

He pulls again, winding the cord as he moves to meet her with a kick that sends her crashing to the ground. Her other jack catches his mouth on the way down, drawing a small line of blood.

"Lucky shot." She said, still refusing to believe him.

Golden smirked and wiped his lip. His eyes shimmered with something far too dangerous to be sane. "Get up!" His face split into a grin, only adding to the frightening figure. Jiro froze.

“Are you deaf? I said get up!”

On shaking legs Jiro rose, pupils blown wide and never leaving the person in front of her.

“Good! I was starting to think you were giving up already.” He goads.

Jiro takes a swing at him, fast and messy.

Golden can’t help but laugh as he blocks it, spinning with the motion to send her tumbling back down.

This! This was what he'd been craving. Blood rushing through his veins, heart starting to pound in his chest and so full of adrenaline he was dizzy with it. Right here, in this moment he was alive. He laughs.

"Get up!"

Jiro kicks at his ankles. She’s still struggling to free her other earjack and Golden lets go, letting her unwind it from his arm. It pulls back with a snap.

Jiro plugs her jacks back into the ground, blasting him away with her heartbeat. These shockwaves are erratic and fast, betraying her fear. Golden jumps over them as he makes his way closer. He makes up the distance easily.

Golden feints a grab at her wires, and when Jiro sidesteps he delivers a clean uppercut to her jaw. Jiro falls backward, fireworks bursting behind her eyelids as she falls to the ground. She does not get back up again.

Golden crouches beside her prone form and gives her a thumbs up. “Whey."