Chapter Text
Yagi’s POV:
The warehouse reeked of formaldehyde and bleach making him force down gag after gag as Mirai and him ventured further in. The first two floors they’d searched had been void of any villains, but still riddled with enough evidence to assure them that the anonymous tip they'd received, despite being riddled with misspellings and confusing grammar, had not lied about it being a crime layer. All about had been various weapons, drugs, or clearly stolen goods. It was enough to justify their raid, but nothing in particular pointed toward All for One who the letter assured them was responsible. All for One did have connection to most, if not all, crime circles they’d uncovered in the past few years, but this was all a bit too jumbled to really be under his control. If that damned man could be described in one way above all else it was control freak.
“This is a waste of our time,” Mirai scowled, “I told you, we shouldn’t have trusted that note. It was likely All for One was responsible for it being sent to throw us off of his true location."
“Even if All for One is not here, we’ve still uncovered a storage site,” He reasoned, but he was feeling rather put out as well.
He’d hoped this could finally be it, that they’d finally managed to track down the man who’d ruined his life along with so many others. They’d been getting closer for years, but no matter what it felt like All for One was always managing to squirm away. The ancient man was like a cockroach, always escaping death by a fraction of a hair and continuing on to eat away at the world.
He pulled out of his ponderment about whether or not the man had procured such a quirk at some point that actually explained his ability to escape when the distinct sound of a creak caused by a footstep reached his ears. He turned around just in time to see a dark figure emerging from the shadows. They froze as he made eye contact and he couldn’t help the way his eyebrows shot up when Shouta Aizawa appeared in front of them. His red eyes were masked by his signature goggles, but even still he could tell the man was less than pleased to see them.
“Eraserhead? What are you doing here?” He frowned slightly, wondering if they had accidentally stumbled upon the man’s patrol route.
“I could ask the same of you, All Might.” The man scowled slightly and he bit back a huff at the sight. He understood why Aizawa had hang ups about his particular place in hero society, but it was somewhat disheartening how little Aizawa understood his own beliefs. “Not exactly your type of work, is it?”
“All villain activity is a concern of mine.”
“You of all people should know that not everything a hero does is plastered throughout the media,” Mirai piped in, eyes trained on their new company. He winced knowing that his companion would certainly take more offence on his behalf than he did himself. “Just because All Might saves many in the view of cameras does not mean every heroic act is.”
“I apologize for interrupting your route, Eraserhead, but we received a tip about a villain we have been looking for for years now.”
“You received a letter as well?” It was clear Aizawa was as surprised as the two of them. Why would someone hoping to get rid of All for One involve a fairly new underground hero?
“Yes, we got an anonymous note stating that he would be here. What exactly did yours entail?” Mirai questioned, obviously nervous about the fact that Aizawa might have learned about All for One.
“Mine wasn’t exactly anonymous, he handed it to me himself. Although I didn’t catch his name.”
(Several Hours Earlier)
Aizawa’s POV:
It was unusual for anyone to be out on the streets of Hosta, given the large majority of its occupants were drug lords and warring gangs, ironic given its lovely name. It had been a common section for him to patrol since starting out and as the years went on, more and more people moved inside, catching onto the fact they were all being watched once the sun went down. He’d managed to get some of the worst, but they continued to grow; one member gone, two more in. Even still, he knew nearly every face around the block so when a new figure appeared, creeping through the alleys, it was cause for alarm.
As he began to approach slowly from the rooftops, making sure to remain hidden, the newcomer came to a stop on a corner and began to survey the area. He crept in, silently falling down into the small road behind them. The closer he got, the more he realized the person before him was not a shady adult, but rather a child, no older than a pre-teen.
With a frown, he quickened his pace, no longer so worried about being attacked and having to arrest someone and more concerned with what the hell a kid was doing out at night alone in this neighborhood.
“Kid,” He called out quietly, watching the figure startle and whip around to face him. The boy was in rough shape, with dirt smudged across his face and wild eyes. He was dressed in plain, but surprisingly expensive clothing given his disheveled state. The boy stared up at him, surprising quickly melting into something akin to awe as he began to mumble ever so slightly.
“Wow, Eraserhead, he’s really here, so cool. I wonder if he can cancel every quirk or just emitters. Wait, I can ask-”
“Kid, you need to get out of here, it isn’t safe,” He sighed heavily, really hoping this boy didn’t come out to find him, but his murmuring certainly seemed to point toward that. It wasn’t common he met his own fans given how few knew of his existence and he’d definitely never had one seek him out, but he knew how obsessive people were over the heroes that acted more as idols than anything else.
“Take this,” The boy shoved a folded up bit of paper toward him that he took on reflex, glancing down at it and up again to find the boy booking it back down the main road. He gave chance instantly, not risking the kid getting caught up in anything on his way back to wherever he’d come from.
But as he rounded the first corner the boy took, he was met with an empty street, the hooded figure nowhere in sight. He darted around, trying to figure out where he might have fled to, but there was nothing. With a huff of annoyance, he went to check the note the boy had left him, barely getting past the first few sentences before taking off once again. If what the letter said was true, he had no time to waste pondering over how the hell that kid knew about the true boogyman of Japan. Even he himself had very little concrete knowledge about the criminal overlord that terrorized even the most vicious of villains. Most wrongdowers that knew of his existence weren’t willing to give up any information no matter how good the deal offered.
A testament to how horrific he must be.
The few tales of the Demon Lord he had learned of were fantastical in many ways, but unlike many of his colleagues, he was not foolish enough to disregard the recountings. Though he couldn’t fully blame their nativity, most resistance to his existence was out of fear. A man who had the ability to steal quirks away was not a pleasant one. He can only nullify for a few minutes at best and yet many cowered away from his gaze. To have such a core element of self ripped away for good was an unthinkable pain the majority wished to not linger on.