Archive of Our Own ^beta

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I.

As far as Izuku could remember, there had been no mother in their household. With the addition of his father’s appreciation for honesty, plus having had no parents himself, it’d been almost easy for the man to tell his young son that Inko made do with watching him over in Heaven.

And it couldn’t be more true; because the veiled man dressed in black that visits their home monthly was named Death, who’d bow as he called his father ‘Master’.

Izuku had asked him what it meant once he grew old enough to start questioning every little thing.

“It means your Uncle Death works for me, my heart.” Papa answered, a face full of sad, fond smiles.

Izuku was smart, so although he couldn’t truly comprehend what it was like to lose someone you’d never known in your whole life, he understood that his Papa was powerful. As for the people (Mama) his father spoke of, the ‘dead’ that Uncle Death worked with, they lived in a place far, far away where Izuku must never go.

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II.

When Izuku had gotten his first injury, he was little more than a stumbling infant who’d somehow succeeded in climbing over the raised bars of his crib. His Papa had been, in the rarest of moments, absent.

It led his bright and curious mind to wander. Already, he was bored of the shifting skies enchanted into the ceiling. Therefore, Izuku directed his curiosity towards the world. Through the smooth and white wooden bars, Izuku saw that the room was a soft green with realistic trees with swaying leaves stickered on it.

Although at that age, Izuku hadn’t necessarily known that it was the colour ‘green’ that soothed him because it reminded him of Papa; nor was he developed enough to understand the existence of trees. It hadn’t stopped the infant, though, from being curious and reaching out.

Izuku wobbled on his chubby legs, letting tiny hands roam until he was sloppily hoisting himself over the crib. With half his body outside, gravity did its job and Izuku was falling forward on to the ground before a mysterious force prevented him from potentially killing himself.

Just in time, a small crack resounded throughout the room. Amidst it, was Papa’s widened eyes as he cried “Izuku!”. The boy was floating in less than a second, gently placed back into his crib before Harry tirelessly fretted over any injuries he might’ve gotten.

That day, Izuku learned that his Papa was Magic. He could do things like make the sky and trees, make things float, and even make him his first friend.

Out of pure, unaltered worry, Izuku now had an Underworld Hound to protect him in case anything happened. Genderless, it was 5 times Izuku’s size alongside charcoal fur that was long and silky to the touch. Summoned to love and protect, it had six eyes like newly created stars.

Cooing, Izuku absolutely adored his new companion who never left his side. It was way better than having that Reaper underling, at least.

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III.

When Izuku became three, his birthday was celebrated by a bunch of people he’d never seen before. Clutching at his Papa’s black trousers, the boy flushed and stuttered when he introduced himself to the man with a face made from dark flames.

“Good afternoon,” The stranger said, and Izuku could feel the softness in his husky voice. It was very soothing, he liked it lots. “My name is Kurogiri. It’s very nice to meet you, little Izuku. Your father and I go to work together.”

“You and Papa?” Izuku titled his head cutely.

“Indeed.” The other man chuckled, making the boy squeal with delight because Papa never told him about his work before!

“Ne, Giri-san. What do you and Papa do? Izu-kun wants to know! Please? Papa never says anything and I’m gonna get a Quirk soon so I’m a big boy now!”

He watched as Papa gave the cool looking Giri-san a look which made the man’s incorporeal form flicker anxiously. Izuku’s face turned upwards when he felt Papa’s hand ruffle his hair. “Not now, son. I’ll tell you later once the party ends, okay?”

“Okay!” the boy agreed brightly. It was pretty weird after that- Giri-san looked like a statue when Papa glanced back at him. “S-sir.” The man stuttered out. “My apologies-”

“It’s fine,” Papa waved a hand nonchalantly. “He was bound to find out anyway. Might as well ease him into it early. I myself always hated it when people left me out of the loop. He’s my son, he deserves better than that.”

After that, Kurogiri left early to go back home, or so he said. Izuku was later introduced to other people who also worked with Papa. All of them were really friendly and nice despite their looks which had scared Izuku at first. Apparently, Papa had a lot of people working for him.

Uncle Death must have a lot of friends.

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When night fell, Izuku couldn’t help but listen with awe when his father explained his ‘work’ to the best of his abilities. “Papa cleans up very bad guys, Izu-kun.”

Upon receiving a questioning look, Harry took in a deep breath. “Sometimes, there are people that like hurting other people and in order to stop that, Papa has to make sure they can’t do so anymore.”

“But don’t villains go to jail? And they’re Heroes! like All Might! He defeats the bad guys, right? Why does Papa have to do it. That’s not your job.” Izuku scrunched his nose.

Harry sighed as he tucked his precious treasure to bed. “Well, my heart, Heroes defeat them, yes. The villains get sent to jail too. But they can still move, and if they can still move, they can do bad things to other people because they aren’t dead.”

“So you make sure they’re ‘dead’? So they can’t ever do bad things later?”

Harry nodded, “Yes. But killing another person is bad. So, in a Hero’s point of view, I’m a villain. Your Papa’s job is to be a villain, Izu-kun.”

“NO!” Izuku screamed, terror in his eyes that look like his father’s. Harry flinched, reeling back for the criticism to come. Either way, he’d love and care his son as he always did. The rejection would hurt, but nobody ever gave him the opportunity of choice before. It would be worth it.

“Papa’s not a villain! You’re good. Papa’s making sure that bad people can’t hurt others and that makes you a Hero! You’re my Hero, Papa!”

Harry kissed his son’s cheek. “But I make sure that they suffer (in the afterlife), my heart. I hurt them as much as the bad guys have hurt other people. Sometimes, even heroes and civilians get hurt. I don’t want you to choose, Izu-kun. Always know that once you’re older, Papa will support you in anything you want to do. Even if it’s making sure I can’t hurt anyone else anymore.”

Hot tears ran down Izuku’s cheek. He hated the way Papa said it like the bad guys didn’t deserve it in the first place. Besides, Heroes got injured all the time, what was another injury if it made sure no one else suffered again?

He made his thoughts known to his father, who looked rather funny with his stunned expression. Mouth fixed into a shocked opening, Izuku giggled and chucked a finger into his father’s mouth. “Flies will go in!” The boy sung playfully in mimicry of his father’s own words.

“I love you, Izuku. Papa loves you very, very much. Do you still want to be a hero when you grow up? Like All Might?”

“Yeah!” Izuku answered without hesitation. The boy yawned, and added like it was afterthought. “And you could be like Sir Nighteye, Papa. You’d be my sidekick and stay by my side and we’ll defeat bad guys better than All Might together because they’ll never get back up again.”

By their side, dubbed ‘Siri’ sniffled, whining for scraps of attention it never got during the party because his master and little master had been occupied. In turn, Izuku carelessly pulled its soft, floppy ears which made Siri huff.

“Oh. But Papa, that means you can’t clean up all the bad guys. You have to leave some for me too! It’s a promise, okay?”

“Of course, Izu-kun. Promise. I’ll make sure that you always have bad guys to put down. Don’t worry, your Papa will take care of everything before you become a Pro-hero.” Harry kissed his son’s forehead this time. “Good night, baby. Sweet dreams.”

“Good night, Papa.”

It would seem as though he’d have to take up that offer to join the League of Villains after all, thought Harry as he left Izuku’s room (protection-charmed twice over). Especially if his son wanted enemies to play with in the long run.

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Izuku was 5 when he first saw his Papa’s work first hand. The home tutor had gone back after the usual time. That day, the topic had been Art. Kurogiri-sensei had taught him how to draw animals- Papa was sure to like the snake he drew. It had become his favourite animal since he discovered he could talk to them.

The boy had asked once why he didn’t go to school like normal children did. Papa told him that since he inherited the family’s Magic, it would be best if Papa first taught him how to control it first. It would be very rude if he accidently turned his teacher’s hair blue after all, the man had chuckled.

They lived in penthouse in one of the pricier side of town. The place was spacious, with its own pool on the open veranda that Siri and Izuku loved to use. Home had a large kitchen and a spacious, cosy living area. It also had 4 bathrooms and 5 rooms which consisted of the private library, Papa’s study, the master bedroom, Izuku’s bedroom, and the final one that Izuku’s wasn’t allowed to go into.

Papa used it for work, Izuku knew. There wasn’t a lot Papa wouldn’t tell him if he asked- the ‘work room’ was one of them. Normally, it was kept under lock and key if it wasn’t in use. When it was, Harry made sure to lock it from the inside.

Lit with untamed emotion, Izuku’s accidental Magic had given him a little help in unlocking the lock without notice. With a swift turn, the door swung open.

“PAPA! Look at what I drew! It’s a snake. See?! Giri-sensei taught me how to make different greens and shapes and-” the boy babbled, only to freeze momentarily when he saw the state his Papa was in.

The man was wearing an iron-pressed white button down shirt layered with a black vest and a pair of equally dark slacks. The outfit was pulled together with a slender tie, pattered systematically with many bisected circles in their respective triangles.

Even with the blood on his fitting leather gloves, Izuku couldn’t help but think that his Papa looked really good. Like one of those powerful bosses on the TV shows Papa liked to binge watch on. Really cool.

The boy decidedly pretended that the bound man with rope in his mouth wasn’t crying and begging for Death’s mercy to descend upon him.

“It looks lovely, baby. The colours are wonderful, but what did I say about coming into this room?”

Izuku visible drooped. “I’m sorry. But this was my first snake drawing and I wanted to show you.”

“I forgive you. Remember to knock next time, please. I know I can’t truly stop you from coming in if I tried, but it’d be nice to know beforehand.”

“Who’s that? What did he do?” Izuku curiously inquired after obediently agreeing. Holding his masterpiece, he walked towards the bad guy before his father stopped him half-way through. Harry conjured a pair of plush sandals, “You’ll get your feet dirty. Wear this.”

The boy accepted it with thanks, his eyes scanned the bloody figure up and down. Perhaps it was because he was born in Death’s presence that repulsion didn’t come as easily. Harry pressed his lips into a thin line.

“Papa’s working for an organisation now, sweetheart. It means many people coming together to work for something.” Harry placed a glove hand on the stranger’s cheek, watching the wounds pulse with blood. “This man, is a traitor. He gave away information he shouldn’t have for money. And it wasn’t for the Good either.”

“Now, Izu-kun. I don’t think I’ve told you this before, but Papa hates traitors. Especially ones that rat others out. It’s okay if you betray someone that hurt you, because I want you to always put your safety first. But, if they do it for money, in cowardice, to sell their own friends out, traitors are the type of people that deserve to rot in hell.

Never betray your chosen friends and family, my heart. It is one of the worst things you can do.”

Izuku took it as gospel. A look of enlightenment on his star-dusted face. Eventually, Harry took off his gloves to gently push his son out of the room, leaving muffled pleas for Death to die on the traitor’s tongue.

“Out you go, my little snake. Let Papa see what you’ve drawn, we can have your favourite Katsudon for lunch today. You did really good, Izu-kun- it looks gorgeous. I’m so proud of you.”

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VI.

Gradually, Izuku started to tag along whenever Papa did jobs at home or outside. Harry had been reluctant at first, but folded like wet tissue paper when his son’s tears started to soak it thoroughly.

During these little outings, Harry took it as an opportunity to teach his treasure the difference between necessary torture and malicious harm. Personally, Harry wasn’t a big fan of making someone suffer for the heck of it and he made sure Izuku knew which was bad, and which was worse.

“It’s disrespectful to Death if you kill a person who doesn’t deserve it. It’s disrespectful to both yourself and your kill if you hunt an animal without purpose. When putting down an animal, always make sure that you’ll finish eating its meat, or make use of its pelt or else it’s wasteful.

The kill must always be painless, do not make it suffer. It’s giving you something, so the least you can do is give it a peaceful and painless passing. That said, if you see any young nearby, don’t kill the parent or child. We must always give as much as we get, my heart. For that’s what it means to be humane.”

After quickly slitting the throat of a male hare, Harry even taught Izuku how to properly skin the animal and identify which of the insides were edible or useable. Smoking the meat wasn’t the most fun lesson, but learning ways to preserve it made up for any of the coughing fits Izuku would choke on when the smoke wafted his way.

Harry had to work on an independent mission once, staking out whatever folks the League had their eyes on. He conveniently took Izuku out for that trip too. Seeing it as a chance to teach his son a thing or two in case his son ever had to wander out in the wilderness like he did all those years ago.

Hunger was an experience he never wants his son to feel, neither the icy dryness of frigid winds that blew when a warming charm wore off as the ice beneath melted into water.

Tracking lessons came afterwards, so did stealth- useful for finding live prey or surprise attacks of your enemy. The young child learned where to make the blood drain fastest and which organ, once punctured, caused the meal to go bad.

He was taught how to track the stars and send prayers of thanks to the rising moon and setting sun. High on adrenaline after each long day, Izuku took to hoisting up tents with his father just before the sweet blanket of night unfolded with time.

Elation was clear on Izuku’s face when he’d learned the how-to at first. The new All Might tent they’d bought from the store down town contributed a lot to the excitement. Harry didn’t forget to take a picture of Izuku sleeping against the tree next to their first finished product.

The mission had also been during winter, so Harry even managed to teach his dear son which woods were alright to use- not too soggy, else the fire wouldn’t light. Easy to say, Izuku learned many things over the 2 and half week trip.

He’d even managed his own rabbit after the fourth day; it was his first experience with taking the breath of a living thing that weren’t mosquitoes or ants. Uncle Death had been very pleased to find out that his Master’s son respected the lives of commodity that once taken, was forever sold.

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VII.

A week before his eleventh birthday, Izuku had somehow managed to persuade his father into celebrating it in Kurogiri’s bar. Papa looked immensely worried, a frown on his face that caused multiple lines to appear. Siri wasn’t at all helpful in the dilemma, busy trying to fit his furry head underneath Izuku’s armpit for more pats.

The thing was spoilt beyond compare, honestly. Or so Papa liked to say, even wondering out loud if it even remembered its function as a guard dog from Hell.

Delicately, the man implied for a change. The deadly slyness of a Parselmouth-loyal snake would do wonders to ease his concerns. Additionally, those beautiful creatures tended to have a wonderful goal-oriented mind as well.

Izuku only glared in response, partially because he was weak to Siri’s adorable puppy eyes that literally took down a Villain once and also because he’d grown heart-wrenchingly attached to the oversized dog that had been with him since he was a crawling toddler.

“Siri’s a good dog, Papa.” Izuku grinned cheekily after hearing Siri’s pitiful whimpers. “When I was going back from the store the other day, a shady looking person dragged me into an alleyway before Siri came out of my shadow and burned him to ashes! Who’s the best-est boy, Siri? You are!”

The hell hound borked.

Izuku held full confidence and trust in Papa’s creations. The man wouldn’t forgive the dog and himself if it really did become compliant with comfort. Additionally, Papa was very thorough with his self-defence and Magic lessons. More so while normal children memorised their parent’s phone numbers, Izuku had to know how to summon Death and its Master by heart.

It was a long recitation, to say the least. And a person had to mean it when they said he or she’d sacrifice so and so for this and that.

After much contemplation and crocodile tears on both adult and child’s part, they arrived at the dingy place via silent apparition. Izuku felt himself gaping with awe at the rather… unique ambiance.

This was the place his Papa worked. “Wow~” Giggles escaped him thinking about the League of Villains having bring your kids to work day.

Upon seeing the familiar figure in a bartender’s uniform, Izuku immediately ran up to the counter, practically vibrating in his seat. “Giri-sensei! Good afternoon!”

“Good afternoon, little Izuku. Have you been practicing your charcoal techniques?”

Izuku nodded, proceeding to babble away before Papa landed a gloved hand on his head. “Izu-kun, this is Shigaraki Tomura-kun. He’s 3 years older than you.” Passing a brief glance at the blue-haired teen, “I hope you two get along. He’s the charge of Papa’s Boss.”

“Hisashi…-sensei, I don’t see the point in associating myself with this brat. I’d like to go back to my room to play the game you got me the other day.”

Izuku pouted while Papa chuckled darkly, putting a finger to his round, golden-framed glasses. “The game you accepted with the promise to at least try to be civil with my son? Izu-kun already knows that not everyone will love him in our world, but you haven’t even attempted to fulfil your end of the bargain.”

Grunting, fingers reached to a scarred neck which Papa swatted away kindly. “I don’t fancy being disappointed, Tomura-kun.”

“… Fine.” Shigaraki clicked his tongue. “But you’ll come by more often, Hisashi sensei?” He ended softly.

Papa bent down, reaching the teen’s eye-level. Conjuring a blue-cased chap stick, he started applying it to Shigaraki’s chapped lips. “Of course. You’re my cute student, after all.”

Surprisingly, Izuku and Tomura got along pretty well. They bonded over their love for games and it’d been an unsaid agreement that Izuku wouldn’t speak of his admiration of Heroes- which had honestly waned a bit since he was a child.

Nevertheless, if Heroes were off the menu, Izuku could adapt with the large repertoire of villain analysis he genuinely liked talking about as well. The hobby had expanded with the loving coaxing and unconditional support of his father; Izuku took apart anything that walked and talked now.

People watching was an actual thing, okay? Tomu-chan was just being plain rude. It came with his friendship bar after unlocking his character page.

It escaped his notice when his Papa quietly left the bar to meet the man who thought he had the world in his palms. All the while unaware of the Otherworldly Being who could end his life and free will with simple words.

(It had been too late then, but All for One couldn’t remember when he’d come to trust Midoriya Hisashi enough to go clash head to head with All Might a few years too early.

Just when had this game of chess begun? From the night of blanketing winter mist, underneath the moonlit night whereupon he’d offered to take in the lost, wandering man with eyes that glowed brighter than the essence of his brother’s Quirk?

Chained to multiple machines, mantles weaved from shadows were passed. Under the rule of Death’s Master, the League now existed for one reason only and Izuku didn’t even know it.)

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VIII.

He was awoken by the sound of a familiar click sliding into place. Dad had unlocked the work door, it seemed. Coincidentally, Izuku had extra portions of dessert that night, so sleep was hard to come and easy to leave.

It was a bad habit which Papa often blamed poor genes for, but Izuku was too curious for his own good. Much like his Dad when he was younger, as he’d heard the stories from Uncle Death. Like a proper Slythindor, the entity mirthfully described.

The freshly teenaged Izuku crept out of his room and slipped past the locks with an effortless Alohomora. His father wasn’t around anymore, the young teen checked beforehand. Maybe he had other things to do first? It wasn’t like him to leave guests unattended.

Seated on the less than comfortable chair in the middle of the room, was a belted up man who could pass for a homeless person from looks alone. Shallow cuts riddled his face, as if shards of glass had exploded nearby and he’d been their pitiful victim.

Just to be safe, Izuku gave the man a second glance down from head to toe. Other than the obvious, he couldn’t tell if there were any more injuries than that from the fully body of black he wore.

Knowing nothing less from his father, the man shouldn’t have been allowed to keep any weapons on him; it didn’t stop the slight shiver that shot up Izuku’s spine from stranger-san’s next move, though. He really did remind Izuku of a chained and cornered animal.

The wild-eyed glare from the long-haired man was piercing, lisp pressed together into a grim line. Pissed off expression aside, Izuku had a feeling he deserved lots of sleep and a glass of water for all he’d been through- whatever it was.

Thankfully, based off the fact Dad hadn’t even put him under a light self-sustaining Crucio, the man must be either a potential ally, real-deal hero or an all in all decent person with power or influence at his disposal, to sum it up. Safe to say, Izuku might actually take up on that thought of offering a beverage.

It was only polite, after all. Besides, he’d always wanted to try practicing all that pure-blood etiquette he read about that his Dad thought Izuku’s didn’t know about. The 7-inch thick book laid stashed at the back of the office room drawer, untouched once upon a time. Uncle Death said that it had been a gag-gift from a childhood enemy-turned-friend of Harry’s. A morally interesting specimen by the name of Malfoy Draco.

“Good night to you too, sir.” Izuku greeted jokingly, all while in his All Might onesie he wore with pride.

Tired eyes darkening, Izuku found himself under intense scrutiny before it fell into mild irritation. “Damn it,” the man muttered dryly, head hung downwards. “Of course there would be a (fucking) kid.”

“Hey. I need you to help release me, kid. Then we’ll both leave and I’ll get you out, okay? I’m a Hero, you can trust me.”

Izuku laughed softly into his fist. “You certainly aren’t a Villain; I’d know better than anyone about that. Don’t worry, though, Hero-san. My father certainly wouldn’t pass you along to the Shinigami if you didn’t deserve it.”

Dry eyes popping, the man wheezed. “You’re the Master’s… son?”

“Yeah,” Izuku nodded enthusiastically.

“By blood? Someone let him reproduce?”

“Your tone’s giving me a lot of questions, but yes and yes to both questions. Don’t worry, I’m not offended at all. The name’s Midoriya Izuku, 13 years old and currently aiming to enter UA in 2 years to become the best Hero ever! At your service, sir!”

“What?”

Izuku startled when Papa teleported into the room with no warning and a thermos of (likely expensive) coffee in hand. When he saw his son, the man gave Izuku a fond ruffle of the inherited mess of hair. “Why aren’t you asleep yet, my little serpent?”

“Ate too much chocolate for dinner.” Yawned the teen.

“Is that so,” Dad’s eyes crinkled with amusement.

“Back to bed, then. I can see you’re getting tired. Practice some of your occlumency if you truly can’t sleep. Eraserhead and I need to have a little talk. Sweet dreams.” Papa added when he knew Izuku wanted to ask some more about the rare guest. Like the identity of the previously unrecognised and elusive erasure hero, for example.

“Night.” Izuku shuffled back lazily, dragging his steps while Siri playfully nipped at his heels. Perhaps if he had walked a little slower even after the door closed, he would've been able to pick up the soft words of a concerned parent with half-serious jokes about ‘future PTC meetings’.

Sometime after the crack of dawn, Aizawa Shouta was mentally ready to hibernate until the next century once he was released from the leader of the League of Villain’s confusingly non-lethal grasp.

Initially, he had been captured holding multiple questions and a stomach-full of ‘Shit, I fucked up.’, but later left with a hundred additional questions, including a full belly. The coffee was one of the best he’d ever tasted.

Nevertheless, the others back at headquarters would be more than just puzzled to find out about Midoriya’s self-proclaimed ‘necessary evil’. Shouta wasn’t given a lot, to be honest. Only, building a disposable empire simply to keep for a child’s ignorant words spelled disaster from miles away.

“Hizashi? Hizashi, I’m fine.” Came the weary voice over the phone from where Shouta’s husband of over a decade had been screaming in concerned panic when they lost contact with Shouta’s phone and complimentary bug.

“Contact Detective Tsukauchi immediately. He- the Master’s shown himself. He has a fucking kid, Hizashi. And prepare the bath for me. Thanks. I’m dead to the world till our next anniversary.” A pause. “Which you’ll wake me up for.”

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IX.

Izuku was finally allowed to go to school when he turned 14. By then, Dad had deemed him competent enough in non-verbal Magic- a feat not many wizards could’ve achieved in their lifetime. It was a pretty telling indicator of his talent, so the man was almost relieved to finally get his boy some friends that didn’t kill other people for a living.

The teen was now also wise enough to keep a secret or two. Sure, Izuku’s soft, chatty character may let some things slip here and there, but that was only if a person could keep up with his rapid fire mumbling in Japanese and English first.

Despite his confidence in doing well, Izuku still felt the murder of butterflies in his stomach when he introduced himself to the class.

Purposefully, Izuku never mentioned his Quirk. The teacher eyed him with puzzlement while the class burst out with noise. “What’s your Quirk?” and other similar lines crowded Izuku as Siri rumbled within his shadow, unheard.

“Quiet down, class!” The female teacher ordered when she saw Izuku’s expression cringe. Not a month ago, Mifune Yori was specially called in to meet the new student’s parent when the junior Midoriya signed up.

None of the teachers at Aldera Junior High knew what to expect when the principle accepted a foreign aristocrat’s son into their grounds. Midoriya Hisashi was powerful, bloody terrifying, and super protective over his son. Some of them might have even peed a little when the man fixed his toxic green eyes in their direction.

Therefore, Yori would like to keep her little life intact for the next 9 months, thank you very much. Not having the young master tattle out complaints was one way to prolong her lifespan.

Immediately during the first recess, Izuku found himself surrounded by unfamiliar faces. His classmates clattered around his desk, their overlapping voices was a different experience compared to the calming silence of Kurogiri’s bar. Obviously, as villains lived a life by laying low or brooding. Either required some form of quietness.

Clearly uncomfortable, it was awfully relieving when a guy with light blond hair in spikes suddenly exploded in the figurative sense. “SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU EXTRAS! All your aimless yapping is worse than a dog who’s never seen a fucking bitch in heat before!”

“Language, Bakugou!” Came the teacher’s distressed voice when the class immediately went mute.

‘Wow,’ Izuku then thought. ‘I wanna be this guy’s friend.’

Nicknamed Kacchan and Izuku were nearly inseparable afterwards, much to the blond’s dismay. He was even extremely vocal about not needing any sidekicks this early in time; Izuku brushed the excuse off like it was dust on his shoulders.

Things changed when Izuku brought Katsuki back home for the first time. The boy was awfully twitchy when he entered the well-guarded (expensive, luxurious, at least 3, 000, 000 yen per square metre) apartment, and his scowled deepened when Izuku took out his key card before pressing on the button for the highest floor.

“What the actual shit on a stick fuck, Midoriya.” He said, when Siri happily came out from his shadow to play. Izuku didn’t fault him, the dog was basically up to his head from furry shoulders alone. Siri was huge when it wasn’t purposefully down-sizing itself.

They did some homework before switching over to playing video games. Kacchan kept raging over failing that one turn on Mario Kart and losing. The blond then demanded for a gazillion more rematches that Izuku happily submitted a sore back and butt to.

Oh, that came out rather wrong.

Nevertheless, the best time of Izuku’s life was when Kacchan met his dear Dad. His mother would’ve fainted at how obedient the explosive teen became in little over an hour. Almost docile, with the way Harry could tease Bakugou without (much) repercussion.

It was like Bakugou’s wild animalistic instincts had overtaken his human mind immediately after it felt the utterly disparaging difference in strength between them. Submit, bare your neck. Don’t let Death’s Master take you.

Bakugou may not have appeared ecstatic when Izuku invited him over after that, but the blond wasn’t exactly openly protesting either. In a way, Izuku thought it was kind of sweet how his Dad got a very reluctant new fan.

Bakugou could brood in angry misery all he wanted when Izuku mentioned his father. But it didn’t matter because much to the green-haired teen’s knowledge, there was unfortunately no denying the blossoming worship Kacchan harvested at the effortless power Dad wielded.

(Midoriya Hisashi was like hellfire. And Katsuki’s Quirk required him to burn.)

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X.

Izuku found it hilarious when Katsuki started to become his self-instated bodyguard. The green-haired teen might’ve still followed him around like a duckling, but Katsuki himself never stayed still when some of their classmates came up with puffed chests to taunt Izuku on his apparent ‘Quirklessness’.

In a way, it wasn’t even their fault because to be fair, the assumption was never corrected either.

It annoyed Katsuki to no end. Izuku would gleefully disappoint the extras that tried to tag along with them upon request, but became awfully anal when it came to denying the fact that Magic and Quirks weren’t the same thing.

The best thing about the explosive boy’s newfound dedication was the need to preen to his dad. Like a bird! He would boast about getting the best grades, or simply tell on his day if Harry asked. “Oi! Hisashi-san!” the blond would walk up to his Dad all gangster-like, even though anyone with a decent pair of eyes could tell that the teen was rattling in his skin to run up to the bespectacled man.

Personally, Izuku thought that the most touching thing was Katsuki willingness to hang out together despite finding out about Izuku’s association with the folk that stood on the opposite side of the law.

The discovery itself was a quick, straightforward thing.

It happened only half an hour after school ended. Izuku could still remember it like it was yesterday. The light of sunset that landed gently on top of their heads as Bakugou had accidentally thrown a science textbook out of the window in a fit of anger.

The blond teen had blown a fuse when Izuku told him that Dad couldn’t make it for the week’s weekly Friday dinner. Like usual, he’d already packed his overnight bag, mind full of stuff to say to the man who’d mentored him in battle tactics for a while now.

“What the fuck?! I packed all my shit for nothing then!” Kacchan screamed into Izuku’s face. The younger teen only shrugged, because what could he do really? Papa had an appointment with one of Japan’s local Yakuza groups. ‘Eight Precepts of Death’, they’re called, if Izuku wasn’t wrong.

Both of them went to retrieve it once Kacchan gained some semblance of composure. Sheesh, it was like he’d never been denied anything in his life before. His Kacchan surely was quite the spoilt guy.

“Don’t be unreasonable, Kacchan. Dad’s gotta work to pay the bills, y’know.” Izuku lectured while they walked down the stairs. It earned him a heated glare and a pleasant “Oh fuck off, Deku.”.

The book had landed in the fish pond behind the school, coming up soggy and dripping with a fishy smell. “It’s still kind of salvageable, I think.” Izuku said lowly. Kacchan gave a short, self-righteous grunt in turn.

At the time, Siri wasn’t with its young charge because his older master had to bring it down to Hell (where time worked differently. A day beneath was a week on Earth) for a ritual check-up a few days back.

At first, no one knew that underworld vets were even a thing until Uncle Death informed them of so. Siri had left whining, contributing to the many scorches and ghastly scratches on the floor.

The slime Villain crept up on them with minimal presence- certainly enough to have had caught the boys off guard. Senses sharpening, Kacchan let out an instinctive explosion to beat down the threat. Yet Izuku was a step ahead- thus in seconds, the disgusting monster was sliding down lifelessly with a flash of green.

“Deku. You…” Kacchan stumbled with uncomprehending eyes.

His (fuck if he’d ever admit it) friend grinned, unregretful. “You have to make sure to put them down in a way that doesn’t let them get up again. They can’t hurt anyone else that way.” Deku smiled wryly, but not at the same time. It was an ugly contrast of an expression.

“Are you afraid, Kacchan? This is also the kind of work Dad’s in by the way, since you’ve been asking.”

Conflict then flashed by quicker than a triggered bullet. Kacchan clenched his fists and a sharp canine bit his lower lip till it bled. Izuku waited, a heavy weight at the back of his throat. He had hoped to have not come to this so quick in, but alas-

It shouldn’t matter what Kacchan thought, Izuku told himself. For although he may not be on the right for some, as long as he held faith in the good his beliefs provided, nothing could persuade him to stop.

The growl that escaped Kacchan didn’t sound friendly at all, so Izuku braced himself for the worst. It wasn’t as if it would be the end of the world if he lost the blond, but damn did the thought hurt.

“Who’s fucking scared, shitty nerd?” His potentially ex-friend said, which made Izuku blink himself stupid. Huh?

“You and Hisashi-san ain’t getting rid of me that easily. I’m gonna become the best and strongest fucking hero and I’ll make you stop killing the shitty bad guys. Nobody deserves to die no matter how many shades of fucked up they are.”

Izuku smiled till his teeth showed, the sight would’ve been unsettling if it weren’t for the genuine (fragile) happiness he seemed to radiate. “Pretty ironic, don’t you think? When you love giving out death threats.” chuckled Izuku breathily. “But okay, Kacchan. I’ll be waiting!” and there was that.

Several months into the friendship, and Izuku found it unsurprising when he gradually introduced the League’s headquarters to his friend. Of course, he’d made sure to put Kacchan under a secrecy charm and all- Kacchan wouldn’t be able to rat out their location that way- but, it was still… weird, in a way.

Izuku would’ve never imagined to have someone aiming to be a Hero accept his goals and ideals so easily. Undoubtedly, he must have had an eye for these kind of things. Already, he could imagine Dad’s proud smile as he ruffled his son’s messy green locks.

Unsurprisingly, Kacchan and Tomu-chan could not get along. Like, at all. Contrary to their similarly destructive Quirks, Tomu-chan found infinite glee in taunting the younger male which made them clash like water and oil.

It was a cringe-worthy battle of petty boasts as they underhandedly competed for the title of Dad’s Favourite among themselves. Fighting by the bar was technically banned, after all. “Ridiculous,” Izuku chided dramatically when he interrupted the testosterone-filled pissing contest. “Dad loves me most, obviously.”

Katsuki, in the midst of boasting about the repertoire of tricks Dad had been teaching him about, lunged for the green-haired teen with a battle cry. Whereas Tomu-chan, on the other hand, scoffed with no little venom.

“It doesn’t count, you little shit.” The pale-haired teen rasped, fingers twitching in the pair of gloves Dad personally engraved voluntary on and off runes (Giri-sensei cried when he saw the reparation bills decreasing by the week). “Yes it does,” Izuku pouted, “You didn’t say so otherwise.”

“You weren’t even fucking invited, shitty nerd. Fuck back home and mind your own business.” Spat Kacchan from the well-mopped floor, potentially pissed off (this time) because Izuku had easily side-stepped him and threw his bulky body over a freckled shoulder like it weighed nothing.

Chapter Text

XI.

UA was lovely, in Izuku’s opinion. There was just so many Quirks and personalities to analyse! He was in observation paradise.

A blissed out expression was in the midst of overtaking his face when the pro-hero Present Mic did a very obvious spit-take after the spotlight shined on Izuku thanks to a bespectacled boy.

“Y-you… Little listener!”

“Ah. Sorry about that, I didn’t mean to disturb everyone else.” Izuku obediently apologised, head bowed slightly. The teen straightened his spine when he heard Present Mic take in a deep breath. Was he really in trouble for the muttering…?

“I assure you, that wasn’t what I was worried about.” The man eased with a wobbly grin. “Alright then, listeners. Now, please move to your respective stations. We will be conducting the practical tests in 30 minutes!”

Now that Izuku thought about it, hadn’t Dad given him a file on Eraserhead when he asked? If he remembered it right, which was unlikely to have been otherwise: Pro-hero Present Mic, birth name: Yamada Hizashi, was husband to one Yamada-Aizawa Shouta.

How interesting. It was likely that certain information was shared after that short meeting years ago. But anyway, Izuku thought, I better pay attention to get a higher robot count than Kacchan.

In the end, Izuku left UA with a small pout on his face. He sacrificed time to save a girl trapped beneath the rocky mess made by the zero pointers and in exchange, it was likely he got lesser points than Kacchan. He really had to master touchless side-apparition soon.

Unaware, the boy had caused ripples of trouble for Aizawa Shouta at UA. Nedzu was distributing the points in Aizawa’s presence, the sound of the computer’s keys fading into background noise.

“I made a deal with Midoriya,” The gruff looking man grit, “He won’t touch the school if his son’s attending it of his own merit. Failing the kid will count as foul play.”

“Unfortunately, Shouta-kun, you humans are terrible at keeping your promises if there aren’t disadvantageous consequences that come after breaking it. We cannot hold Midoriya senior to his word if there isn’t proof that his son isn’t a spy.”

The click of a tongue belonged to Shouta. Shifting his weight, the man sighed. “Midoriya Izuku is a child.”

“And at this age, capable of much more danger than an adult.” The intelligent creature mercilessly retorted.

“Especially if he was raised by the villain. As an organisation responsible for the livelihood and welfare of the future generation, UA simply cannot afford the risk of accepting child with evidence of being attached to one of society’s most dangerous and mysterious Villain. Even if Midoriya Izuku’s intentions are good, there are still too many unsaid rules in this game of chess. I won’t fight my battles blindfolded or deaf, Shouta-kun.”

Aizawa gave a sound of frustration, picking up his juice packet and slurping on it noisily. Nedzu hated the classlessness of it when he did. Finished, the erasure hero even gave the straw an ingrate’s blow for good measure.

“I’ve ways to contact him. Let me handle it. I’ve met the boy personally and you’ve watched the videos. He has potential to be a hero. If anything, the job will bind him. Midoriya Hisashi has built an empire for him that not even the authorities dare to touch. For the love of God, us underground heroes take tips from him!”

Nedzu’s typing stopped, small paws hovered over the keyboard. If anyone looked close enough, they’d realise the tiny twitches in the principle’s whiskers. “You know I trust you, Shouta-kun. As such, I’d like to talk to the man myself. Maybe even arrange for some tea.”

In response, Shouta grumbled out an agreement and reached for his phone.

“So?” he asked, once Nedzu was done with the private call in another room.

“Midoriya Izuku will be our wildcard,” Snapped the principle irritably, not a hint of his characteristic mischievous grin to be seen on his furry face. “We haven’t lost to a checkmate yet.”

Chapter Text

XII.

Classes were much more fun than Izuku could ever anticipate. His classmates were more than just nice. If Izuku had to give a comparison, they were like undying stars shining brightly with all the goodness they had in them.

And Izuku was honest incarnate when he said that to be able to share memories with them felt like an honour. Warmth spread throughout his body when they returned the sentiment, like how hot water ran over his skin on a cold day. Plus, even the cute and tired looking guy called Hitoshi smiled, motivating Izuku to make the best of his time here in UA.

After the Quirk Apprehension test, Ashido cooed when Izuku fell into full-blown adoration mode at the introduction to all of their Quirks. Not even Brainwashing was spared, the blush that crawled up from Hitoshi’s neck tasted like sweet, sweet, victory.

Izuku really liked that teen, enough that the desire to befriend him paralleled with the first time he met Kacchan. Speaking of which… the freckled teenage barely stifled a laugh when he saw Kacchan’s very apparent anticipation to get out of class and to the school’s gates.

“Woah there, Bakudude.” Kirishima grinned. “What’s got you all excited for? You got a date waiting?”

“Shut the hell up, shitty hair. It’s none of your fucking business. Hurry up, nerd. We gotta go now.” Right as he said that, Katsuki showcased his seriousness by dragging Izuku out of class by the scruff. Unfortunately for him, Izuku managed to wheedle out of it easily enough, reaching for his desk to pack up.

Chuckling, “Don’t worry, Kirishima-kun.” He said. “Kacchan’s just a really big fan of my dad and he’s coming to pick us up today. Dinner outside as a celebration for getting in UA.”

Kacchan shot him a look full of offended rage. Laughter filled the class when Denki pointed out that Kacchan hadn’t denied it either. Izuku made a mental whoop when Shinsou huffed with blatant amusement.

“What’s all your shitting problems, huh?!” The blond glared, hands popping with the sound of his Quirk.

‘God, Bakubro, you’re flaming up like shit! I’m really curious about your dad now, man.” Kirishima grinned towards Izuku. “What’s he like for Bakugou to like him so much?”

“Hisashi-san is miles away from your league, shitty hair. Don’t even fucking try.”

“Holy- What- that was a name and an honorific slapped on there. Midoriya, my dude, how powerful is your old man?”

“Really strong. Kacchan’s never scratched him once.”

“Damn!”

“Fuck off! And Hisashi-san’s not that old, fucktard.”

“He is, actually. Hey, you know what.” Izuku suggested half-way through putting a book into his bag. “Why don’t we all exchange numbers. It’d be easier to become closer friends that way!” And totally because he’d get a certain purple haired teen’s contact.

“That is a great idea, Midoriya-kun!” “That’s great, Deku-kun!” Tenya and Uraraka both exclaimed simultaneously. Kacchan scowled bitterly, foot tapping impatiently.

“I can make the Class 1-A group chat. That way, even Kacchan’ll be included.”

Izuku had to cajole and coax his childhood friend with extra spicy ramen after that; with the addition of a promise to ask his dad for more training sessions too. Telling the blond Dad’s true age was a bonus move on his part, to say the least. Kacchan literally blew an entire table up.

Chapter Text

XIII.

When Izuku first saw All Might step into their class to teach, a myriad of mixed feelings came forth from within him. It was kind of unreal, seeing his childhood hero and knowing that Uncle Death’s claim sang softly with every second on the clock.

Even if his hero-worship was a fraction of what it had been when he was younger, All Might would always hold a special place in his heart. The Symbol of Peace stood for an ideal world that Izuku wanted a part in.

If Dad would allow it… if he could just let Izuku heal him with his Magic-

No. No, it went against the natural order of things. Yagi Toshinori did not belong to him.

Nothing good came from angering Death, as bound as the entity was. Even if he was acknowledged as the little prince through the words of the afterlife’s workers, some barriers weren’t meant to be crossed.

“Give it up, nerd.” Kacchan suddenly said from his side. Izuku released the breath he forgot he held, allowing fresh air to fill his deprived lungs. They’d only known each other for almost a year, but Izuku swore that the blond sometimes knew Izuku better than Izuku himself.

The unofficial wizard sulked, nose scrunched up as his freckles moved with his skin. “Hey,” Kacchan pinched his cheeks. “Hey, fucker, look at me.”

“Ka- Oww…”

“Look at me when you fight me. I won’t see for anything less. If you hold back by even one percent, Deku, I’ll kill you.” And the blond let go. Izuku rubbed his cheeks, “No you won’t. You admire my dad too much to kill me.”

“… Shut your useless whore mouth before I fucking do it for you, cocky shit-stick.”

The Hero team won without much difficulty, as measured by the loudness of Kacchan’s outraged roar.

Equally ecstatic, Izuku returned Uraraka’s cheerful double high-five with matching enthusiasm. Magic was an amazingly versatile gift, the green-haired teen was once more humbled and thankful to be blessed enough to inherit It.

Around two days after, boarded on the bus on the way to their newest training event, animated chatters flung itself across from seat to seat among 1A. The class was in the middle of discussing the jobs of their parents when Tenya inquired of Izuku’s father’s occupation after finishing up with his own family’s hero heritage.

Seated beside Kyoka, Kacchan visibly froze. Aizawa-sensei as well, although the latter was hidden where he slept in his banana yellow sleeping bag.

“Yeah, Midoriya. We all got that Bakubro admired your dad a lot. What does he do actually, to make him so strong? He sounds super manly.” Praised Kirishima.

Izuku abashedly rubbed the back of his head, green hair sticking out in countless more of directions than it already did. “Well… my dad works as the president of a cleaning company. He takes out society’s trash. I guess that’s the secret? Practice.”

There. That should be alright, just as practiced.

Kacchan choked (rude!) while Aizawa heaved a dry cough that sounded borderline painful.

Pushing up his glasses, “That’s truly admirable!” Tenya loudly praised. “I can imagine how difficult it must be to manage an entire company. Do you hope to become the hero representative of your father’s business in the future?”

Wiggled out from the confines of his cocoon, 1A’s homeroom teacher rose from the proverbial dead. Izuku easily smiled through the harsh intensity of his childhood friend and Aizawa-sensei’s gaze.

Gee, if he didn’t know better, Izuku would’ve thought that both of them were just about ready to commit murder right then and there.

“He better,” Katsuki suddenly scoffed out of the blue. “Hisashi-san’s fucking loaded. God knows why he hasn’t used all that cash to style Deku’s hair better. I’ve seen bird nests that are less disgusting.”

A round of laughter went around as Izuku took mock offense. “Excuse you, but I got my father’s hair,” he countered with a hand on his chest. “Kacchan, I’m gonna tell on you when we get back home.”

Kacchan’s comically widened eyes were priceless. A round of laughter passed when the blond went “Wait, no- Deku don’t you fucking dare!”  

Before he could actually answer Iida’s question, however, the bus screeched to a halt and Aizawa-sensei’s attention was diverted to the well cleaned window and then the bus driver. The two exchanged equally stoic nods.

“Alright students.” Aizawa drawled lazily. “Get down the bus in a line and like civil human beings. We’re here.”

Tired violet eyes flinchingly withdrew its unnaturally long gaze from where Izuku’s knee touched his. The young Midoriya honestly loved seeing his newest friend-to-be look downright flustered at the little things he did. “C’mon, Shinsou-kun,” Izuku grinned from where he stood, putting out a calloused hand.

It had been so sappy, but Hitoshi took it anyway.

(A muted blush crossed his cheeks which he hid with the scarf his very loud and very grumpy, respectively, dads gifted to him a few years back. Damnit, he thought with no little shame, get your shit together, Hitoshi.)

“Hey, Midoriya.” Shinsou said slowly, carefully- their hands held tight, though not enough to hurt.

“Yeah?”

“Would you, though? Represent your father’s company?”

Izuku leaned in close, breath warm against Hitoshi’s ear. In a whisper, he cheekily answered. “Nope.” Said the teen with a ‘pop’ at the end. “But it’s always fun to see Kacchan squirm.”

Chapter Text

XIV.

The UA Simulation Joint, or USJ, as Thirteen-sensei called it, was a beautiful sight to behold. Colour him impressed, the place resembled something belonging to one of Tomu-chan’s game. How exciting.

The space-themed Rescue Hero, Thirteen, was there once the class had gathered. They basically gave a meaningful speech about how with great power, came great responsibility. Izuku couldn’t agree more.

In fact, while the teen was busy nodding to himself, a sharp whine shook him into immediate alertness. Siri wasn’t even trying to hide the warning when everyone else turned to look at Izuku too.

“Danger,” The teen casually said. Aizawa sensei immediately responded with a sharp glance to the centre of the USJ. “Thirteen! Get the students to safety immediately. Contact the school for reinforcements.”

True enough, a familiar looking portal warped itself into existence. Dark purple and black dancing like will-o-wisps on All Hallows’ Eve. How curious, Izuku observed, rather than feared.

Nearby, Katsuki gritted his teeth, muting out the chain of curses that wouldn’t help the situation as of now. The reason being because that most of the coherency left in his words would probably indicate that he knew these busy-bodied motherfuckers.

Good boy, Izuku thought with a tiny smile. Nevertheless, having been familiar with the man for so long, Izuku could tell that Giri-sensei’s incorporeal body flickers indicated nervousness and fear, rather than accomplishment.

Was this an act of betrayal? No, Izuku shook his head weakly. Giri-sensei was too smart for that. The young Wizard took a step back, ‘Tomu-chan’s there too.’

The act of rebellion was even more less likely then. It didn’t take long to connect the dots. All for One would be the only one accessible to the resources to hire petty thugs that didn’t know of Dad’s discrete ruling. Man, the guy sure was desperate.

A stolen crown would still shine if the owner’s changed. All for One’s struggle was futile at this point. Dad will win in the end, no doubt, because the pieces he held were far more valuable than this little pity party All for One had set up here.

Unfortunately, Tomu-chan must’ve been emotionally manipulated into going against Dad’s explicit orders to leave the USJ training alone. The light-haired male hated All Might with all his being after all. And Giri-sensei’s always been a huge softie for his young charge.

They were half alright because this attack wouldn’t be considered a true betrayal on both their parts. At most, Dad would probably take it as if his pets knocked over a vase by accident. He was lenient like that.

It was kind of cute, seeing the two of them jumping into the punishment pit of ‘No games, no alcohol for the next month’ together.

Izuku thought this, trusting that none of these third-rate villains could harm a hair on his classmates’ head, and on the basis that neither Giri-sensei nor Tomu-chan would aim to seriously harm the students.

Fingers crossed, but if he was wrong, Izuku was already taught on what kind of future lied for traitors. It wasn’t pretty.

And then a Nomu was brought in, which made Izuku slightly weary. The abomination changed things. Noticeably, everyone else had their shackles raised; even Katsuki looked furious. He too knew what the Nomu represented.

Underneath his breath, Izuku murmured a soft Serpensortia. Sending the reptiles to Koji, “Make peace,” He hissed. “Tell him that you serve me and I’ve given assistance.”

“The Speaker speaks.” The venomous bunch slurred excitedly. “We shall obey.”

Dad essentially doesn’t like inflicting pain on others. So, Giri-sensei, Tomu-chan, please don’t do something you’ll both regret.

Chapter Text

XV.

Izuku immediately took after their homeroom teacher once he left to protect them on his own. Originally, he’d offered Aizawa-sensei his assistance, but the man was rigid in his refusal.

The protection of the students came first; it didn’t matter even if they were the most capable youth. They were still children; they didn’t deserve to fight a battle that didn’t belong to them.

Hearing that, Izuku smiled wryly to himself. He was willing to bet that with an attitude like that, Dad must have a soft spot for his homeroom teacher. It was truly unfortunate that the world Dad originally came from lacked good mentors like Aizawa-sensei.

Nevertheless, regardless of the underground hero’s wishes, Izuku was going to help anyway. But first, he had Giri-sensei to deal with. Secretly, he hoped for Kacchan to burst out with righteous anger anytime now.

Pulling the Dad card out loud was just plain embarrassing.

Izuku stood by contemplative, mind running miles an hour before Kacchan was steps ahead of him and yelling murder. “Nice,” Izuku quietly pulled a thumbs up. Only Shinsou seemed to have heard him, a curious expression on his handsome face.

“ARE ALL OF YOU BRAINDEAD OR BRAIN-fucking-DEAD?! SHIT ON A STICK, HISASHI-SAN’S IS GONNA FLAY YOUR ASSES ALL THE WAY TO THE GREAT WALL OF CHINA YOU TRAITOROUS MOTHERFUCKERS!”

The blond took in a deep breath. “You know what, just sit your skinny ass there, shitty drunkard. I’m gonna kill you for Hisashi-san before he gets here. Scum like you don’t deserve anything less.”

Katsuki jumped, explosion resting on the space of his palms. Giri-sensei’s Quirk activated, portal opening when Thirteen intercepted to shove their student out of the way.

Unfortunately, Bakugou had senses that were sharper than most, so he dodged the push. Thus, when the warp took place and the portal closed, it left both the teacher and Katsuki on some random side of the USJ.

Most of the class steamed in disquiet.

As he wasn’t at all soft, the people who could hear Katsuki weren’t few. Even the villains who Aizawa-sensei was fighting paused momentarily. “Who’s Hisashi-san?” Shinso asked, voice loud and clear.

Did he go through voice training because of his Quirk? How cute.

“He’s my old man.” Izuku said instead. “Literally. But Dad doesn’t look his age, though. Fun fact: he’s older than 60.”

“Seriously?” Ashido-san chimed with ice-breaking humour.

“Yeah. One hundred percent.”

Giri-sensei visibly flinched. “Izuku-kun… We can… explain.” He soothed poorly, wisps of his flames flickering so badly it was like someone purposely put an electric fan on full power in front of him. “Please don’t call your father.” The man pleaded in a speedy whisper that lost volume with every word.

Iida, curious and dutiful- bless his pure soul- spoke up in confusion. “Midoriya-kun, I believe that you said your father works in a cleaning company? Yet by their words, these villains are implying that they know, or are in some way associated with your father.”

“I wasn’t lying,” Izuku shrugged easily, clucking his tongue. “My Dad really does take out trash as a full-time job. Just, the definition of that might vary from person to person.”

Gasps of realisation flooded among them. Giri-sensei was looking rather despondent, his incorporeal body all but diminished from sad resignation. “He already knows, does he?” the villain asked sadly.

Personally, Izuku thought that it was the most hilarious thing ever- save for Kacchan’s hero worship because that shit would never be not funny. Giri-sensei pulled off a rather convincing kicked puppy look for an expressionless entity, though. “Maybe. I could call him right now to find out, if you’d like.” The green-haired teen joked.

(Dad did, in fact, already know. There was little he didn’t, especially considering his past and the precious person involved. Not to mention, it was Siri who ratted them out by sinking straight into Hell and making its way to Dad from there.

Izuku was thankful, this mess would be too large to fix alone and summoning the Master of Death required him to die a rather bloody death that hurt. On top of that, traumatising his classmates wouldn’t be a wise decision at all.)

Chapter Text

XVI.

“Deku!” Uraraka warned with worried fluster. She probably thought that he was provoking the enemy or something. The concern was sweet, albeit rather pointless. Izuku would first worry about UA running out of toilet paper than Giri-sensei harming him.

“It’s gonna be okay, Uraraka-chan. These Villains are the least of our problems right now. And like, in all seriousness, my Dad’s actually on the way right now. We just gotta go help Aizawa-sensei hold on for a while. Nothing too bad should happen; I’m 80 percent sure of it.”

Uraraka took Izuku’s confident smile with understandable hesitance. It didn’t stop her from attempting to mirror it, though. The green-haired teen patted her back soothingly, the stretch of his smile widening when he saw her tense shoulders loosening a little.

But what about the Warp Villain? Signed Koji with a Black Mamba wrapped around his neck like a scarf, its dark scales gleamed beautifully under the filtered lights. Izuku could hear them hiss sweet endearments at Koji, making the student flush lightly. Thank you for the snakes. They’re lovely.

“No problem,” Izuku grinned, genuinely pleased. He made a new friend! “Trust me, Warp Villain-san won’t pose a problem. He’ll get the naughty corner for at least 2 hours if he tries anything more than he already has.”

Giri-sensei visibly straightened up, as if the memory itself had become a Boa Constrictor that wrapped him silly. With the added fact that the villain also knew that Dad was coming, he probably wished that was the case.

The naughty corner wasn’t just a naughty corner. It was a cupboard, to be exact; a pine cupboard placed against a dark, dinky corner. Dad smuggled it in all the way from his old world.

Yeah, other parents travelled overseas while Izuku got a world traveller. At least the trips never lasted long enough for Izuku to feel lonely. Dad also let him sleepover at Kacchan’s for days on end during that time. The option was way better than being babysat by Shinigami-in-training.

Nevertheless, the cupboard was without a doubt the worst souvenir ever.

Inside the cupboard, laid Izuku’s true gift- an atrociously unpleasant creature called a boggart. No one that went to sit at the naughty corner ever wanted to stay. Save a few unhinged ones, like Stain-san.

Apparently, he feared the one he admired most admonishing him (but not killing him? Izuku couldn’t figure). Yet, at the same time, the vigilante also held infinite glee and reverence because it was All Might’s image that came out from the fear-reflecting creature.

Not to forget Himiko-chan, who went ballistic with her stabbing tendencies when she saw her fear. The eerie cackles and bloodcurdling screams still haunt the bar till this very day.

People were strange, Izuku recalled thinking. Only Dabi turned out alright. He was a pretty cool guy.

Dad was thoroughly fed up, all things considered. Izuku had never seen Dad space out for so long before. Uncle Death didn’t help at all when the entity simply tossed more paperwork his way.

Stain-san was sent off with a whimper, acting like a harshly abused dog who’d been parted with its master. The vigilante vehemently refused to leave even when his visit was due. He literally sat vigilant at the naughty corner for hours on end.

The vigilante acted as if the old, creaky cupboard was the Mirror of Erised or something. No one could just kick him out either. He had travelled all the way from Hosu upon invitation after all.

Despite the fuss, Izuku left the bar with a new mock-uncle. Chizome-san had a surprising fondness for his new boss’s son. Izuku was willing to bet that the reason behind it was because he fit right into Chizome-san’s most idealistic fantasies.

By his terms, Izuku was the start of a true hero that wasn’t afraid to get blood on his hands for the greater good. Two vastly contrasting ideas packaged neatly into one human being.

Izuku wanted to give jest at first. According to his wild-running imagination, he didn’t want to be Chizome-san’s and All Might’s secret love-child! One super awesome Dad was enough. The man looked so happy- read: creepily terrifying- though, so Izuku stayed his tongue.

Kacchan better not turn into any number of a fraction like that. Or else he’d make Kacchan Siri’s personal chew toy for at least a month. There would be plenty of slobber and teeth marks until his best friend snapped the Hell out of it.

Speaking of which… Kacchan was awfully quiet. How far did Giri-sensei throw him?

And where was Tomu-chan?

“DIE! HANDYMAN SONNOVABITCH!”

Ah, speak of the devil(s). There they were.

Chapter Text

XVII.

For someone as well practiced as Izuku- because his Magic was nothing if not built on constant practice, practice, practice- Apparition with a destination in blatant sight was easy.

Flames ran askew where Kacchan threw his explosions around. They literally brightened up the place by a degree as Tomu-chan’s enraged yells could be heard over the suffocating plumes of smoke.

Izuku decided to intervene after a split second of consideration. Uncle Death damn his Slytherin side, he didn’t want any of his closest friends dead any time soon. It was easier said than done, however.

The two were so entirely immersed in their play of Hero versus Villain that it made the teen want to chuck their petty asses into the naughty corner. They’d like that, wouldn’t they.

Especially if Izuku somehow managed to throw a bone of ‘Dad likes Dementor. He looked so proud when he named it. I’m sure he’d be ecstatic if you got Dementor to like you too!’ Katsuki probably wouldn’t buy it, but Tomu-chan would, if there was enough alcohol involved.

Izuku cringed when he got a vague gist of the monologue exchange that went on between the two. About how Tomu-chan wanted to kill the Symbol of Peace with the use of Sensei’s greatest weapon, and how he also wanted to let everyone know about the numbering lies their city’s foundation was built upon, etcetera.

In response, Kacchan’s wrathful snarl left little to the imagination. “Do I look like I give a shit? DIE!” He cried with honorable rudeness before the ground literally split open in the middle of the USJ. Aizawa-sensei, who was fighting a bunch of third-rate villains, shivered.

The others mimicked the involuntary action, but they couldn’t comprehend why.

Gasps escaped from all directions when adult and student alike started to see a six-eyed hound escape from the illusion of a bottomless shadow’s depth.

Its ginormous paws left ash-imprinted indents on the ground and the dog-like creature stood ridiculously tall, easily reaching the height of All-Might’s shoulders. Almost intangible, was its fur that was as dark as whatever hellish pit it stepped out of from. Two hooded figures flagged its sides.

Then the creature howled, a harbinger of its Master.

“Siri? Who’re they? And where’s Dad?” Izuku rapid-fired, catching the ears of everyone else who had their eyes snapping open and close like camera shutters on a graduation day.

The hellhound whimpered, almost resembling a child who’d failed to get what they wanted from the toy store. The image was silly; Siri was probably older than UA itself.

Time moved differently in Hell than it did on Earth. Izuku went there once, and he had so many mixed feelings upon his return. He felt older, for one.

Fur fluttering behind and with slobber clinging to the line of its mouth, Siri padded over to Izuku to paw at his pants. The move physically made the teen buckle. His canine guardian wasn’t small or weak by any means.

“I am here, my treasure.” A low voice crooned lovingly, echoing throughout the entire simulation joint. People shivered when a heavy weight descended upon them, a chill incomparable to that of a raging snowstorm pressing down until breaths started shuddering uncontrollably.

Their eyes could barely stay open when the strange force even threatened to shut it for them. It had caused physical pain to do anything else but live at the moment. Even then, it hadn’t been enough in the face of Harry’s ire.

It started with the two-bit villains. Kneel.

UA students. Bow your heads.

Aizawa-sensei. Show reverence.

Thirteen, and finally, the wayward League Villains. Everyone save Izuku dropped to their knees, cricking with the shock that was absorbed into their bones.

So that the Master of Death may not reap.

Hitoshi groaned, yet his eyes was still so full of light, refusing to look anywhere but forward. Unaffected, Izuku’s inappropriate animal brain found time to swoon. It was love.

Unforgotten, the two mysteriously cloaked figures stopped outside the tear in the ground, resembling inanimate guardians to the entrance when a something- no, someone - stepped out.

“Father!” Izuku exclaimed loudly.

“Nothing of that sort,” the voice spoke once more, tinged in mirth. The plated string bracelet on his wrist dropping as he ran his hand through inky hair. The same mess that Izuku had inherited as well.

“Had Death allowed you to speak to Malfoy again?” Dad asked rhetorically “The ferret always did have a mouth on him, I bet he annoyed Death to the living with it.”

The darkly dressed pair dropped their heads politely, bony fingers clenched around their respective scythes that they’d conjured from thin air. With every set of limited motion on their parts, the large expanse of wide sleeves that appeared to belong to a traditional clothing of sort shifted minutely.

It was an answer in telling silence, Izuku simply chuckled sheepishly. “Uh, Uncle Draco sends his regards…?”

Charmed, Harry smiled.

“Siri dropped by while I was busy with your principle. I’m sorry for the wait, everyone. Principle Nezu and the others are currently on their way - I ask for your patience; they will be here soon.”

Audibly, everyone from UA choked out a sigh with relief. Though it was admittedly still kind of hard to breathe. Not to mention of the ache in their knees. Noticing this, the Master of Death released his magic on the children and teachers.

The villains, on the other hand, deserved nothing of that sort. Katsuki was about to go cross-eyed from borderline worship before Izuku appeared by his side, pointing a stinging hex right below his rib.

“Now,” Izuku heard his dad clap with false cheer, “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’ve heard that there has been a betrayal among our midst.”

The man had spat the word out coldly, glowing gaze startling everyone in its direction. “Speak, Shigaraki Tomura, Kurogiri, and pray that I do not hold you accountable for this disgrace.”

“Hisashi-sensei.” The light-haired villain nearly squeaked from below, drawing all attention on him. Katsuki barked out a mocking laughter, pointing fingers like he would a monkey at the zoo. And if one ignored his battered appearance, the condescending tone might’ve been somewhat hard to stomach.

“You’re screwed now, handyman motherfucker.” Izuku’s friend sneered. Performing Magic, a hand was brought into a fist. Dad was having none of it.

He gathered the bunch of villains scattered around the USJ, their collective voices merging into one shaken yelp. Giri-sensei was drawn next to Tomu-chan by default.

“Katsuki,” Dad addressed during the process of controlling a force invisible to the naked eye, “Follow Izu-kun and wait alongside your teachers and classmates.”

The complaint barely left Kacchan’s throat when Dad gave a rare look of reprimand. “Later, Katsuki. Now go,” said the stern voice, allowing not an inch for any questions. “I’ve business to settle with this lot.”

Following the distinctive crack, the Noumu, Giri-sensei, and Tomu-chan were gone. Just in time as All Might and a bunch of heroes came crashing in, announcing their loud arrival.

Entranced, the green-haired teen shamelessly stared at Aizawa-sensei, who had given the most dead-panned look Izuku had ever seen, coughed twice, then collapsed with timely exhaustion. Hizashi-sensei screeched.

Izuku poked the growling Kacchan’s cheek- streamed continuously with assumingly angry tears- when Class 1A burst into riot.

Chapter Text

XVIII.

Tumbled was not the word Kurogiri would use when Hisashi-san threw them from mid-air. Thankfully without the Noumu short behind, the only pain felt when they went splat like a starfish on hard concrete was the pain of literal smashing indignity.

Kurogiri shook his wispy head, Hisashi-san was obviously less than pleased.

The pair found themselves walking towards the bar from the middle of nowhere, with intimidating guardians herding them like sheep. The conjured wolves with odd colourings and two pairs of eyes and heads growled lowly.

“Walk back, and use the time to cool your heads.” the man had said, looking every inch of the ancient nobility he said he was. The knowledge stemmed from a time quite a while ago, when Izuku needed more words to explain his bloodline.

Kurogiri knew better than Tomura, who stewed in something close to remorse. Hisashi-san probably returned to the bar first to have words with All for One.

Admittedly, his fair-haired charge was always much more level-headed when Hisashi was around- less prone to the destructive bouts of trauma-based insanity. But because they’d done something of great inconvenience, the logical thought process of punishment obviously came first, not purposeful delay.

It was a slap on the wrist, all things considered. Hisashi-san had options, to put it to words. Ones that were harsher than letting suspense build. Perhaps even that was Kurogiri’s hopeful optimism working. Feet heavy, the Warp Villain steeled his nerves for at least one mid-tier Cruciatus Curse.

Unsurprisingly, the journey took no less than 3 hours to complete and only one toilet break at an old, abandoned station in the middle of nowhere. Kurogiri had his Quirk, but he wasn’t foolish enough to believe that the mutts wouldn’t be able to follow. Nor was he convinced that their presence was to just follow and not bite if he pulled a Warp.

They returned sticky with sweat, Kurogiri especially so. His only part of vulnerability, the neck, had pores working to compensate an entire body’s worth of skin. Tomura looked fine, if a little frazzled.

Kurogiri noted that at least one hand worth of nails was bitten till it reached the meat of his finger, the edge of the keratin was as crooked as the teeth of a saw. Neck marred with sickeningly red lines that drew to his collarbones, Tomura used the same hand to cover it, feeling a stinging warmth seep through.

Hisashi-san didn’t like it when Tomura harmed himself that way. Reaching as far back since their first meeting, the poor stress-founded habit had already been ingrained deeply into his psyche which hadn’t stop Hisashi-san from trying anyway.

The aforementioned man stood in the middle of the bar, wand drawn even though anyone who came often enough knew he didn’t actually need it to be dangerous. “Welcome back,” he greeted, chipper and bright, like his conjured pets weren’t ordered to draw first blood if they made slower than a certain speed.

“It’s not my fault!” Tomura immediately shouted after, nails once again digging into the soft flesh of his neck. “It’s All Might’s fault!” he accused with a deep rasp to his voice, “The chance was too good to pass. A hidden event! Don’t you think so too, Hisashi-sensei? You understand, right?”

“No, I don’t.” Hisashi-san answered coldly. Flicking his wrist, the wand disappeared. “What I did understand, however, was that you and Kurogiri had been utterly foolish to move without consulting me first. You barge into neutral territory, mindless of the consequence! Have you no foresight to think your actions through?! People could’ve gotten hurt. You could’ve-”

Following their audience, Tomura tensed, frustration rippling through his wiry frame. “EVERYTHING WAS GOING FINE UNTIL YOU SHOWED UP!”

Having warped behind the bar counter, Kurogiri’s steady hands jerked from where he was pouring himself a strong glass of alcohol. Hades help us, he silently prayed. Tomura snarled, lost to emotion, even when Hisashi’s eyes sharpened with warning.

“The Heroes have always been our enemies! There hasn’t, and never will be, a ‘neutral ground’ where every fucking baby hero in existence are going there to grind out levels after levels! We’ve lost our path ever since you came- Sensei hasn’t let me see him in years and you won’t fucking help him- We’re Villains, Hisashi.” He strangled out venomously, expression uncharacteristically vulnerable, like the word explained everything.

Harry stilled his breath.

“We- I’m no doll for you to pull strings with. I know what you’ve been doing. I- I’m not stupid. Everything- every single show of kindness- they were never for us. It’s all fake, just like those Heroes. Don’t lie to me when you say that you’ve ever cared, because it’s always Izuku and someone else with you. The only reason you stay is because of him. Not me. Never me. One day, you’re just gonna leave us to rot in the dark like everyone else.”

(Without warmth, without home, without words of praise and comfort. Unseen and unwanted, forgotten and misbegotten. Then Sensei’s growing concerns would’ve been right all along.)

“Tomura,” Harry swallowed harshly. His legs bring him forward, towards the young adult who’d seen too much to grow up properly. Clearly, he’d failed as the boy’s guardian. “I do care, I truly do. And I’m sorry if I’ve failed to show you that.”

The Master of Death stood before the boy he saw as his second son in everything but blood. His hand twitched to reach out, but Harry forced the urge to pass. For the first time in a very long while, he felt like the Harry from millennia ago.

The one who had been both smooth and awkward with every relationship made; purposefully unseeing of the effect he had on others, too focused on himself. Something else. The Greater Good.

On behalf of his (first) son or no, nothing could excuse his behaviour of playing Dumbledore with all his false omniscience.

Harry had fucked up bad, hadn’t he?

Familiarly impulsive, the man allowed his hand to lift and cup Tomura’s sullen face. With the other hand, he gently brushed away the stray strands of pale turquoise hair. The other hadn’t reacted, slouching as usual. Harry then placed his forehead to the other’s own, feeling the cool and clammy skin against his.

 It was like a small trip back in time, when Harry used to this when Tomura was but an underfed child who hid ruby red eyes behind his hair. It would calm the boy during his frequent night terrors at the ass-crack of dawn. Tomura always liked the feeling of someone holding him close; he loved the intimacy, starved of positive touch for most of his life. Sentiment aside, it was why he brought those hands around so much too.

They’ve all grown up so well. Tomura, Izuku, Dabi, and Toga. Soon, perhaps sweet Eri as well. His kids, Harry’s precious treasures that he can’t continue to pretend to know everything about now. Of their lives or in. No longer would he make the same mistake to assume that their wants and views would align with his.

He made no noise save a barely audible grunt when Tomura’s gloveless hand clasped around his forearm. Immortal or no, he wasn’t immune to the Quirk’s effects. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, I guess. Harry’s right arm crumbled to nothing when both refused to budge from their positions.

Something relaxes in Tomura when Harry just stays. Eyes focused on reading him like he was the world. Tomura loved it, he was absolutely enthralled with the feeling that felt levels better than completing a bonus level on his video games.

The bar had long cleared by then. Kurogiri, the Wizard mused. It was only the two of them now and Harry needed to send a quick message back home to tell Izu-kun to take a night at Katsuki’s. He had things to do, misunderstandings to clear, and mistakes to rectify.

“I think we might need to have a little talk- one overdue- don’t you think, Tomu-kun?” Harry smiled softly, eyes shimmering with unshed tears. Tomura’s were already dripping down his cheeks and Harry used his remaining hand to wipe them away.

The serpent coiled in the branches of the apple tree could wait. All for One wasn’t rushed for anywhere without him.

Chapter Text

As an advocating individual of the present and future, All for One had gone through many identities with each their own lives, writing stories in cursive, leaving every newly taken name with their unique marks upon the world.

The game of reincarnation he played out of pleasure and necessity had become one of his greatest achievements. And next to it, the collection of Quirks he’d collected like pearl-coloured shells off the seashore; whereupon they gleamed and glowed under the natural sun, yes, but his polish made them better.

He had lived for over a couple of centuries, so experience flocked to him that he needn’t chase it. A Quirk would shine to last a lifetime by their original owners: true – explored and cleaned out at almost all its nooks. One for All’s tender care, however, provided that one lifetime would become many. The word ‘almost’ banished into nowhere. He knew better, he was better. Such beliefs dug deeply in him, the Quirk will work its best in his hands.

Unfortunately, All for One’s powers didn’t come without a price. Hive-minded freeloaders were part of the package.

Immortality had been one of the first powers he’d taken; dragged alongside it, a woman’s soul who’d been wizened by time’s unrelenting flow. She screamed endlessly at the beginning, formless shape moulded into an expression of distorted grief. “Let me out! Curse ye, let me out!” the faceless woman cried daily in her unbearably scratchy voice.

It took months, but ignoring her made the anger more docile by the week. She screamed a relieving number less to the point One for All secretly thanked a god he turned his back on when the screeches finally softened. He decided he could live with low voiced mutterings. The opinion stayed for a good three years.

Coldly, she warned him once on the last day of the tenth month, louder than he ever remembered. Not a screech, no. Her tone was steady without hesitant touches: “Death will find me, boy. They love not false lives like you.” The old lady never spoke again afterwards. So quiet All for One almost forgot about her existence.

Many of his residents, the man would then come to observe, had varied reactions in terms of their initial entrapment. Except for their final words, in which would turn out to be exactly like the old lady’s. It was what made him remember her all this while.

They’d give a warning, a pointless scare in the dark. Always on Halloween. “Death will find me,” Declared somber voices, occasionally adding a few more words to those lines. It didn’t cover up how on the same day, they’d say the same words with the same expression – blankly, brokenly, and if he looked hard enough, perhaps peacefully. No more howling, begging, crying, cursing. Nothing.

Needless to say, another Quirk taken merely triggered the weirdly foreboding cycle again. Though at that point, All for One had eventually learned to let live with the repetitive line because thus far, nothing had ever happened.

Midoriya Hisashi happened.

Where had he gone wrong? The question loved to linger at the forefront of his mind. He knew the answer, though. Better yet, the exact second he’s damned himself to this nigh impossible indignity born of a moment’s carelessness. The apple in the Garden of Eden had only appeared so sweet and ripe.

Why (Hisashi), why (Hisashi), why (Hisashi).

Just look at him now, immobile from the sterile safety of a private room and driven near insanity in the never-quiet of his mind. Indeed, the voices stopped after a certain amount of realisation that they’d never be released from the airtight jar of his Quirk. Nonetheless, the waiting period for proper silence was null and void if All for One often had new additions being gifted to and fro.

The noise would’ve been bearable if he were distracted. Now half-blind and half-deaf and half everything, All for One’s only solution to the endless boredom was the suppression of tortured souls in his aching head that did nothing for his recovery.

All for One cursed the man’s name, feeling betrayal like he did when his brother turned his back on him all those years ago. The bitterness didn’t do much to improve his mood. All for One knew the game – the fact he felt betrayed at all was evidence he let his guard down enough to care.

Weekly visits, stimulating discussions, aligned goals and values and a touch of naivety to show that he was malleable, a potential protégé that could give him the world. All for One snapped on it like a starved fish on hooked bait.

Unbeknownst at which turn, Shimura Tenko became the backup plan as All for One threw Midoriya Hisashi into the fray of things. Both were prodigies, but Tenko was first and foremost revenge. Hisashi –  not so much. Why did he keep him again? The extreme competence must’ve made a bright red flag. For the life of him, All for One couldn’t remember why.

It was as if the memory had disappeared into the hat like magic, dissolved into silver dust that was formerly a rabbit. All for One said yes because it was right. Felt right. Voices unlike the usual he vaguely recalls listening to. What was it? Equally violating and enthralling. When? A siren’s song into his soul, constantly telling him to ‘Accept him accept him accept-’

“Death will find me.” Another christened individual suddenly interrupted in a maddened hiss. Isn’t it still too early? All for One stirred sluggishly in bed.

The door to his room opened, cool air creeping in. The Villain mastermind took the vibrations that bounced off the sound of the knob turning and saw. Not the doctor nor Kurogiri. Plus, either would’ve announced their presence before walking in wherein this one didn’t. Their body temperature was also near reptilian to his Infrared Quirk.

“Hullo.” A smooth voice greeted in English.

Midoriya Hisashi: his greatest joy and regret since his little brother. Admitted so because an accursed part of him couldn’t bring himself to actually hate the former protégé. Hisashi’s presence had conditioned All for One to associate him with silence – a very rare treat. The voices never cried or cursed or screamed whenever Hisashi came by and if he had to describe it, they harboured… contentment.

Beholding a secret within their existence he wasn’t privy to.

Something was different about him today, All for One’s heartbeat jumped, an inward staccato by the halves beating along to the snitching metronome crowding at the head of the bed. Intensifying the use of his Quirk, the man saw the spread of colour: low tones of oranges, purples, blues and black-? He was missing an arm.

There was a clear flat space where the long sleeve of Hisashi’s blazer simply laid flat against his torso. All for One’s senses traced the outline, tension thick through the blips of multiple medical machines. “Honestly, I can’t decide whether to thank you or…” Hisashi trailed off, figure stopping at the foot of All for One’s bed.

“Care to share?” The unknowingly younger man asked, shoulders squaring. “I gave it away,” was the given careless response. “An early gift to our dear Tenko.”

“At least two in his collection belong to you. Are you not going to grow your limb back within the week?”

Escaping his notice, emerald eyes sparkled with dry amusement and warm fondness: “No, not anytime soon. It’ll serve as a personal reminder.”

Of what, the Villain didn’t push. All for One leaned back into the plush cushions, blanket riding upwards. “I see.” He said, tone steady and knowing. “Why are you here, Hisashi?”

“An old friend of mine asked in for a favour. I couldn’t refuse.”

“Oh? And what is it?”

“The Quirks, Sensei." Hisashi said testily. Like it wasn't just about the Quirks. Perhaps something more personal; All for One had an inkling on which incident specifically the issue could have stemmed from as the man continued, clearing his throat. "More specifically, the un-culled soul fragments. I have a responsibility to Death and their minions. Part of the job description really.”

Death has found us.

“Relax, the children will be safe with me.” Hisashi soothed, “And I still need you alive. You won’t feel… much. Imperio.”