Chapter Text
It was a quiet Saturday evening at Halfway House. Shouto was putting together a new conspiracy board – something about Gang Orca’s hat – and Izuku was helping him by clipping pictures out of hero magazines. Kacchan was sculpting his explosive-infused clay into fists with the middle finger raised. Izuku mentally wagered on how long it would take someone to make a finger bang comment.
The first sign of trouble was a wisp of fog which appeared above their sofa. As Izuku watched, the portal expanded, and then deposited Hawks on the couch. The hero seemed to be unconscious.
Izuku scrambled over to him. There was sticky note on Hawks’s forehead: HP 100%, stamina 0. Izuku checked him over anyway, and threw a blanket over him.
“Are we gonna talk about how the fucking League of Villains just dropped off the number two hero?”
“It must be some kind of op.” Izuku took out his phone.
GreenGremlin: got your package
EatMyDust: good, *somebody* needs to go AFK for a while
“What kind of moron sends fucking Hawks to do fucking covert ops? He’s the goddamn opposite of underground!”
“The Commission, I guess.” That called for some analysis – why would they send Hawks on a mission involving the League?
Practicalities first. Izuku switched accounts and sent a text to Tokoyami.
Deku: If anyone asks, Hawks is crashing at our place. Almost literally. He looks like he needs rest so I don’t want his agency to pester him.
Tsukuyomi: It is seldom that the darkness embraces him.
“I’m gonna grab some ingredients,” Kacchan announced, putting on his shoes.
“Great idea, Kacchan! Hawks’ favourite food is – ”
“Chicken, yeah, I know.” He jogged out the door; the nearest supermarket was several blocks away. Izuku returned to his phone.
Deku: Yaomomo, if I send sizes, can you make some clothes for Hawks?
Creati: You couldn’t call his agency?
Deku: And tell them what? ‘Hi, you don’t know me, but can I have some of the #2 hero’s clothes?’
Creati: point. I accept payment in pastries.
Deku: Kacchan is cooing dinner.
Creati: even better.
***
Meanwhile, Tomura was stuck in the worst cutscene ever.
“The Shie Hassaikai will return the Yakuza to their rightful glory!” Oerhaul announced.
“Yeah? Where’s your tattoos, then?” Tomura hadn’t encountered the Yakuza IRL, but he’d played all the classics, and Overhaul was no Kiryu.
“You are missing the point,” he sneered. “Join us, and yo will be a part of the future of the underworld!”
“I’ve got a better idea. Let’s high-five each other and see whose quirk activates first.” Tomura didn’t need Sensei to tell him Overhaul had some kind of touch-based quirk – and Tomura had spotted his weak point, too. He slowly licked his hand before holding it out. “How about it?”
Overhaul leaned back in disgust. “If you fail to take the Shie Hassaikai seriously, be prepared to face the consequences – ” Purple mist enveloped his entourage and kicked them from the zone.
“That’s quite enough of that,” Kurogiri said.
“Yeah, good call. Stain, you done?”
“All clear.” The fighter emerged from the shadows, putting a camera into his belt pouch. “We’re not letting that asshole near my cousin.”
“No shit, he’s got bad end written all over him. Make sure to send a copy of that video to Deku.”
“He’s going by Nexus for underground business,” Stain said. Right, the alt account.
“Warp us back to base, the kids challenged me to Mario Kart.”
***
Keigo woke up to a marvellous scent. He hadn’t slept this well in weeks, he was lying on something really comfortable. The smell of roasting chicken wafted over him, and – this wasn’t his agency. Or the League’s hideout. He cautiously cracked an eye open.
He was lying on a couch, face to face with Best Jeanist’s autograph. He rolled over; on the wall above was a hand-lettered sign which read: NEUTRAL ZONE – Leave your grudges at the door. Please sign the couch. If you use supplies from the cabinets, consider making a donation.
“Oh, you’re awake. The chicken’s almost done.” The voice was young; Keigo turned to look.
“I’ve seen you guys before – you’re UA students,” Thermal, Deku, Creati – granted, he wasn’t expecting the explodey one to be wearing an apron.
“No shit, birdbrain.”
“Creati made you a change of clothes.” There was a set of plain sweatpants, and a shirt with a chibi image of himself and the caption birb. There were even slots for his wings.
“This is awesome, who did the graphic?”
“That is also my work,” Creati said.
“Come eat before this gets cold.” Bakugou plated a mouth-watering pile of fried noodles, vegetables, and of course, chicken.
“Don’t worry, the Principal knows we’re here,” Deku said. Wait –
“Is this that place from the Stain incident?”
“Yeah, Kurogiri dropped you off. I guess it would have been too suspicious to send you to your agency.”
Hawks paused for a bite of chicken. “You’re not going to ask about that?”
“I mean, it’s obviously some sort of mission.” Deku shrugged. “At first I wondered what you could do that an underground hero couldn’t. But the real question is, what can the Commission make you do that they can’t make another hero do.”
Hawks blinked. “I can neither confirm nor deny …” This kid was still in the first year of high school, right?
“Deku, stop scaring the guest,” said Bakugou. “And Hobo-sensei said no overthrowing the government until after the cultural festival.”
“You’re no fun, Kacchan. Besides, I need to do more research first.”
“Fucking save it, we’re not half-assing the festival.”
“You are a key part of our plans,” Thermal added. Keigo made a note to check out the UA cultural festival if he could find the time.
“Anyway, it’s not like I’ve learned much about the League. Except that Dabi is kind of cute.”
“You have no taste,” said Thermal.
***
Overhaul’s rage had not cooled in the week since meeting the League of Villains. Those juvenile upstarts and their insolent leader had dared to mock the might of the Shie Hassaikai. Furthermore, Overhaul was certain that the League knew where to find his secret weapon. He would restore the glory of the Yakuza and cleanse the world of quirks … right after he put that Shigaraki twerp in his place.
He strode into the conference room to inform his Eight Bullets of his plans – and found the room in shambles.
“Boss! Tabe ate my phone!”
“Eat!”
“We gonna fight soon?”
“You are all animals.”
Overhaul cleared his throat. “The League of Villains must be erased.” He pointed at the self-styled Garbage Trio. “You three. There is a bar where the League is regularly seen. Go there and gather information.”
“Okay.”
“Got it, Boss.”
“Eat!”