Work Text:
Fyodor wouldn’t say he detested alot of things.
Abilities were a curse but his allowed him to get this far, once they where gone there would be nothing to detest, besides, detesting things doesn’t make them go away.
That’s not to say he can’t despise.
That’s probably what he’s feeling as he looks down at… porcelain-white unblemished, bone thin fingers.
—
There’s not many times Fyodor ponders about his body.
There’s no need after all, there’s not really a point - when he eventually dies after all he gets a similar, but also completely different one.
There are some things he’s taken note of that always stay the same though.
His hair, his build -relatively- ,scars, facial hair, eyes, ears, teeth.
One thing he does remember is that his hands weren’t bone thin.
They were relatively fine actually, as blemished as they are they were full in a way he couldn’t quite grasp almost ever when he wasn’t in prison.
These were not the hands he was used to.
How utterly peculiar…
Fyodor runs his fingers over each hand,
‘not an illusion of some kind then’ is his first thought before endless possibilities roll in.
He stops a moment, because he does recognise these hands - they are his, they have his little scar on the left palm and the little mole that sat just above the vein that climbs up his right ring finger.
There’s a different kind of recognition going through his head too .
Fyodor’s head goes silent for a second before it almost bursts.
Surely that’s not possible- nothings impossible don’t be stupid- but it makes no sense- nobody the Agency knows, nor the port mafia nor the angels- nor- anyone that anybody directly involved in the current conflict knew could de-age somebody.
Fyodor surveys his surroundings again.
Obviously, he’d concluded he wasn’t in Yokohama. Somehow somebody somewhere else had killed him and he’d subsumed their body- not that big of a deal, Ame-no-Gozen should keep following his orders either way.
Fyodor doesn’t care about that part.
Mostly.
It’s slightly annoying, he’s still in Japan though so that matters little.
What is a big deal is the people he’s seeing walking around.
Ability users sure- more like Nakajima’s ability though, for some of them atleast- tails, snouts… the list goes on.
Which doesn’t make sense because the tell-tale Kanji that slides around the atmosphere of an ability user as they activate it isn’t there.
Fyodor gets bumped over from behind and, theoretically he shouldn’t have fell over but he topples like a domino.
Fyodor looks down at his feet, which are bleeding apparently.
And tiny, and his legs are just as tiny and skiny from what he can see under these clothes.
Was the person he subsumed bulimic or something ?
Fyodor looks down into the puddle that was beside him.
And pauses.
Everything pauses.
His face is… youthful ?
That’s an understatement- it’s malnourished sure, bones peaking through uglily but it’s more akin to what he look like ages ago.
15 …
That was- long long ago- how on earth-
Same shaggy hair, same dull looking eyes- same everything.
Something bitter twists in Fyodor’s stomach.
This was all wrong- he wasn’t… this isn’t…
He’s not that abomination of a demon staring back at him anymore- he’s not like that human anymore.
——
“And you’re saying it’s been weeks ?”
Aizawa’s voice drones through the meeting.
Nezu had set it up of course, he’s always coordinating something because all the other heroes are too stupid to.
People -well, villains and thugs and gangsters- were going missing, at each scene only a few hair tufts and blood being left behind -all typically being the… serial kidnappers ? Murders ?-
DNA trace showed the blood belonged to the same person but they weren’t in any database.
New villain new problem.
Aizawa has enough problems- 1-A was a good class and all but a villain attack was bound to cause unease anyway, a villain running around making people go missing all over Musutafu wasn’t going to make that unease go away.
The principle drones on.
“Weeks, Yes.” Nezu starts “About 16 people per week as of 3 weeks ago- 50 people in total, including one hero and 3 small time villains.”
Somebody scoffs, Aizawa wishes he could flatten them.
Heroes these days aren’t bad necessarily they’re just not good either, too reliant on the shining star Japan calls their No.1 hero.
This villain- whoever they are is dangerous if they can make 50 people -16 people per week for 3 weeks- with seemingly no help or proof of murder other than their own blood.
Confident… egotistical maybe ?
Aizawa’s trying to psychoanalyse somebody who’s not even in the room.
God he needs a break.