Chapter Text
Izuku's eyes flutter open, letting the light flood into his retinas. A pain throbs in his head from the blinding light as he struggles to move, his skin rubbing against uncomfortable braided rope keeping each of his limbs tied down. The headache dies down as the initial shock fades, leaving only an aching annoyance.
Izuku finds that he's tied to a chair in the center of a rotting wooden room of some kind. The floor is cement, so he can only assume that he's currently on the ground floor or in a basement of some kind. He racks his brain, trying to remember what brought him here. As he does, he leans on the back two feet of his chair to try to get a better view of his situation. He drops back onto all four feet as a familiar voice sounds from behind him.
"I'm sorry, Izu," Himiko starts defeatedly. Izuku turns his head slowly so as not to aggravate his injured head that just stopped pounding and finds her a distance adjacent to him in a situation much like his own. Her arms and legs bound to a rickety chair that—if anything like his own—is incredibly uncomfortable. "They caught me, and that asshole stole my face to get you too. You wouldn't be here if it weren't for me," she laments.
"Don't say that, Miko," Izuku insists comfortingly. "I mean, yeah, it's definitely your fault, but, like, don't say that."
Himiko glares at him in response and pouts petulantly. "You're such a meanie, Izuku," she whines.
Without warning, a wooden door across the room from them swings open, revealing Dusty—or, if they respected him enough to use his name, Shigaraki Tomura. Izuku sighs tiredly. So they'd finally been caught. That must mean the "asshole" Himiko had mentioned must have been Twice, another integral member of Dusty's League of Villains. When the villain takes in Izuku's newfound state, an ugly grin spreads across his horribly chapped lips. "Ah, so you're both awake. Good, good. Now-"
"Shut it, old man!" Izuku interrupts at the same time as Himiko.
"Can't you see we're busy, Dusty?" Then she gets a thoughtful look on her face. "Actually, you know what? I'm hungry; go make me a sandwich," Himiko demands.
"Oh, and while you're at it, could I get a soda?" Izuku adds, pausing for a moment before continuing. "I'll take a Dr. Pepper, please."
For a moment, it seems as though all the wanted villain can do is gape at them before his dropped jaw quickly snaps into a snarl. "This isn't a damn restaurant." He glares, holding back from killing these kids himself.
Izuku gasps, affronted. "Language!" He reprimands, hostility rising in his voice.
With doubtful eyes, Himiko glances around at the stools lined up along the long, clean bar and the shelves of expensive liquor behind it. "Well, it looks like a damn bar to me."
Izuku stares ahead, blank-faced and almost expressionless. "Wha-? Ugh, whatever!" The skin-condition villain groans. "You can have whatever you want to eat or drink as soon as you agree to join us. With you two on our team, our League will be unstoppable. We'll shape the world as we see fit!"
As the villain takes a breath to spill out more useless monologue nonsense, Izuku interrupts with an eyeroll. "Look, old man, this isn't a negotiation. We don't care about the perks of your freaky cult."
"Yeah, we can't be bought!" Himiko backs him up. "I mean, who needs food anyway?!" At that, her stomach grumbles, which she pointedly ignores. She had been here longer than Izuku. Now that he thinks about it, she could've been taken at least a few hours before him. Despite that, Izuku grimaces.
"H-Himiko," He mutters awkwardly. "It's us. We need food.
Himiko pulls at the collar of her shirt and laughs, embarrassed. "Oh, yeah... right."
Izuku sighs, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. He then points behind himself at Himiko with his other hand. "If need be, she at least needs a cracker or two. Otherwise she'll just keep begging on, and on, and on, and on, and-"
Himiko nods rapidly. "He's right, and I can talk and talk and talk," she rambles. "Oh, would you like to hear about every blood-borne disease?"
"Enough!" The man-child demands and literally stops his foot. You know, like a child.
A group of villains enters the room through the same door Dusty had used minutes before. Dabi, who leads the group, saunters in with an eyebrow raised. "Damn, Shiguraki, what's got your panties in a bunch?" Shiguraki's face reddens as a newly arrived Spinner sets a sympathetic hand on his shoulder.
"Lang-guage." Izuku sighs, over all of them.
"Yeah, watch your fucking mouth," Himiko huffs in agreement. Izuku pats his sister's head, and she preens proudly.
"Wait, but she just said 'fucking'," Spinner points out with a questioning tone.
"Language!" Izuku practically screeches.
"Yeah!" Himiko shouts. "L-A-N-G-U-E, wait... L-A-N-G, wait..." She tries but trails off. After a long moment of looking at her face, scrunched up in dangerously deep thought, Izuku decides to throw her a bone and leans over. He cups a hand over her ear to conceal his words, and once he starts talking, Himiko lights up. "L-A-N-G-U-A-G-E!"
Somehow, despite her failings, Spinner looks thoroughly chastised. "Don't bother with them; they're idiots," Handsy lies.
"If that's the case, then why are we trying so hard to recruit them?" A masked villain with a long coat asks. Izuku, at least, hadn't caught his name or moniker yet, so he must be new.
"Oh, I'm just thrilled you asked," Izuku says slyly, crossing his arms with a grin.
Himiko smiles dangerously. "Do we have a story for you," she says smugly.
Shiguraki's eyes widen with recognition as he protests. "No no no no no no no no no no no no...."
The edges of the room begin to ripple as Izuku sets the scene. "It all started when I met All Might..."