Archive of Our Own ^beta

Stoic was the only way to describe the look of the 16-year-old’s face. Dark brown hair — most confused it for black — hung messily on his head as a clean, white bandage covered one of his mahogany eyes.

Sitting in the dimly lit room — due to the covered windows — the blank eye traveled from the door to the boss to the file placed neatly on the table in front of him.

“Mori-San, I don’t mean to be rude, but shouldn’t you hurry to explain the situation? Unless you’re waiting for someone else to arrive.” The brunette chuckled to himself — he knew the boss was waiting for someone, but luring an answer from his mouth was always more fun than comprehending. Actually — if he took a good look at the file, he would notice a name that clawed annoyance out of him brutally. ‘Why was the annoying slug involved?’ He asked himself.

“Now, now, Dazai-kun, you can be a bit more patient as we wait for our guest.” A “sweet” smile plastered onto his face, but — the boy now known as Dazai — wasn’t fooled by it. He’d watch as the man sliced the old boss’s throat; there was nothing sweet about him apart from his apparent love for Yokohama — the city they lived in. (And little girls, yet if he were to mention it, it would probably be an automatic death sentence— not that he cared.)

Rolling his visible eye, Dazai was about to reopen his mouth before a knock interrupted him, ceasing the words in his throat.

“Come in, Chuuya-Kun,” Mori turned his attention to the door, hands underneath his chin as a scalpel stood loosely between his fingers.

“Yes, boss?” Chuuya entered the room, eyeing the surroundings before an agitated look formed on his face — and what do you know? He was looking at his partner (in crime).

“Glad to see both of you have made it,” he spoke in an eerily calm voice, his violet eyes glancing between his two subordinates, “I have a new mission to propose to you both.” Soukoku always hated how he said “propose” as if they had a choice to decline — well, technically, they could, but that would put them on the Port Mafia’s unforgiving side, and no one wanted to risk that without a safe place to hide for the rest of their lives. Not that a safe place would work — the mafia was as slimy as a worm — always having connections in odd and even places would put any of their foes at a disadvantage.

“Mori-San, please just spit it out.” Dazai sighed, knowing the boss and his nature to drag out conversations with more conversations “just to test them,” or at least that is what Mori liked to say.

Chuuya looked at him as if he’d gained another head. Luckily, he hadn’t; already dealing with one overworked, suicidal brain was enough. Thank you very much.

“My, my, Dazai-Kun, you wound me~ but alas, if that is what you want…” he trailed off, “You both are infiltrating a school beyond the walls of Yokohama — more specifically a school in Musutafu. UA High School.”

“…” Chuuya and Dazai looked at each other, silently communicating, before turning to look at their boss as if he’d grown a bald spot. He probably had — he was wearing a beanie, and no one told you this, but Dazai had (recently) convinced Elise to put Nair in his shampoo — not that it concerned anyone at all.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Chuuya huffed, his shoulders slumped as the realization of no, he wasn’t being kid set in.

“Hm? Do you have any objections?” Mori teased, but it came off as threatening, forcing the ginger to retract his statement.

“No, boss!” the shorter eyes frantically widened once he understood the words that left his mouth.

“What about you, Dazai-Kun?”

“…” rolling his eyes, Dazai shook his head, “no objections. But is there a reason for this? There can't be anything out there for us other than annoying people wearing spandex and shouting cheesy things.”

“You're right…” Mori drawled, slim fingers intertwined with each other as he stared intensely at Dazai’s features, “perhaps it's not embarrassing for you to know, but I have an old favor I want to cash in, so a certain mouse can't hold it over my head anymore.”

“Meaning?” Chuuya raised an eyebrow — if what Mori implied was true, a headache was surely going to come to bite him in the ass.

“Think of it as a babysitting job,” oh, how vague, “and take care of a certain organization there. I don't care how. Only do.”

“Apologizes for my ignorance, Boss, but we have loads of enemies…” Chuuya began, “… how would we know what organization you're talking about?”

“You'll know.” Two things Chuuya hated: 1. How vague Dazai could be, intentionally keeping him out of the loop, and 2. Having his own boss do the same thing to him.

One is his partner, who he could more or less read like a half-closed book on a good day, and can always trust to have his back no matter how shitty they felt about each other; the other is his boss, someone whom he couldn’t hold the same trust for, but honed great admiration to for his leadership, and — undeniably — trusted to give him a place to belong.

“He means the League of Villains, Chibi.” Chuuya wanted to curse his partner out but refrained from doing so, grateful to the man for telling him.

“Ah, I wanted to see how long it would take him to figure it out...” Mori whined — which was annoying considering his age. The man was pushing forty!

“But your job is to protect each and every student of class 1A from the LoV. As you know, they've been a pain in the PM’s behind for some time, always relocating and trying to barge into our city, so two birds with one stone. Nezu no longer has a favor over me, and the LoV is taken care of.”

They both hummed in agreement at the statement, finding it rather intelligent.

“And because you both are a year older than the rest of your classmates, we’ve created fake birth certificates and backstories for the both of you, so commotion is not caused.”

“Can't we just go in there and say we’re their bodyguards?” Chuuya questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“No, it would put too much attention on you both.” Mori sighed, “You're both dismissed now. I expect you both to start packing; you leave tomorrow immediately.”

“What about money and stuff…?” Dazai finally spoke up, fiddling with his bandaged wrist.

“I’ve already transferred it from Yokohama currency to Yen — the currency the rest of Japan uses.” The brunette nodded, accepting the answer, “Anything you need to buy, you use that. Also, you’ll still be receiving your weekly paychecks.”

The duo stood up, preparing to leave before Mori said one more thing to them, “Lastly, do not get caught. Because you are outside Yokohama, if your crimes come to light, I fear I won’t have much authority to help.”

“Understood, boss.” Chuuya bowed and left. Dazai had already forgone the office, irritation plaguing his brain. He didn't want to do some infiltration mission that would possibly take years to complete, but Chuuya — the loyal dog he is — forced his hand a little. Poor dog. So loyal he would instantly get himself killed if it meant protecting his loved ones. Dazai didn't have the heart to do that.

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The mile walk back to his shipping container was anything but peaceful. Dogs seemed keener to bark at the brunette, and random thugs tried to mug him, only to regret the decision immediately.

A familiar, painful throb pounded against his skull as a migraine settled in, yet he kept pushing. The weedy teen had a job to complete, and a migraine needn't slow him. That's how enemies got the upper hand.

Packing the few clothes he owned in a pearl-black suitcase that he burrowed [read: stole] from Mori one night before dropping it in a corner, the teen sat on the new mattress he finally convinced Mori to give him. The old one had springs loose and was disturbing his already terrible sleep schedule.

The sun was now setting, and the brunette lay wide awake.

Sleep hadn't come to him that night either.

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“Bastard Dazai, carry your own shit!” Chuuya shouted at his partner.

“No, slug! My arms are sore ~ if I do any manual labor, I'll collapse!” Dazai whined, moving faster to get away from his red-faced partner.

“You weak bastard!” Chuuya screeched, chasing after him.

“I don’t know why you’re complaining! You’re using your ability anyway…”

“It’s the principle of the situation, jackass!”

“Whatever, slug!” Dazai smiled widely. He always liked how free he could act when he either wasn’t on duty, hanging out at Bar Lupin with his new friend, Odasaku, or teasing the ginger, who was getting dangerously close to him. Twin Dark could only hope this infiltration mission wouldn’t be draining or cause unnecessary issues.

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Dazai had researched beyond the walls of Yokohama on a laptop a subordinate quickly brought to him before they left on the train. Train then bus then car. Those were the vehicles they would need to take to make it to Musutafu, Japan.

“So, slug—“ the brunette quickly dodged a punch— “outside of Yokohama, there are these powers called “quirks”. It's a weird name for superpowers, but from what I’ve gathered, they’re like babies learning to babble compared to abilities. Unlike abilities, they have limitations and are more biological than spiritual. So, there is more information regarding their creation because of that, unlike abilities, which are still considered mysteries despite our government heavily studying them and their ancientness.”

“Meaning?”

“Quirks are made to alter human biology, letting them adapt to whatever power they've gained genetically and providing a level of safety to their owner. Abilities aren't. Hence, most ability users struggle to control theirs without someone else’s ability as assistance. Take Arahabaki, for example; if it were a quirk, it would be weaker, yes, but you’ll have an easier time adapting to it— even controlling its rage— without me there to nullify it. And because of our ability's unpredictability, it’s made lots of people— who are aware of our existence— shun us because we are considered dangerous. The same way we shun quirk users because of their black-and-white mindset.”

“So, because quirks are weaker, they’re easier to control? Makes sense.” Chuuya nodded, humming contently at the information.

“Mhm.” More clicking echoed within the private room on the train, “look,” showing his laptop to the ginger. On it was information about their school, teachers, classmates, and more heroes. Chuuya looked bewildered.

“They do not like privacy, I suppose.”

“Yeah, no shit!” The duo spent the remaining duration listing out all the information they found. Though they didn’t know if they needed to be skeptical, this could mean the heroes are cocky or complete imbeciles.

The duo was willing to bet on the last option: both.

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“Wake up, chibi~ we’re here!” Chuuya’s eyelids fluttered open as the moonlight bathed his skin under its cold embrace. The train ride only took three hours for them to get to the border of Yokohama, while the bus ride was supposed to take the longest time for them. They departed around 6:00 A.M. and spent three hours on a train, so 9:00 A.M.… Chuuya’s eyes widened as he looked at the time. It was currently 7:00 P.M., meaning the bus took ten hours. He could only pray the car ride was shorter.

“Be safe, kids. The night can get extremely dangerous over here.” Dazai nodded at the driver, laughing to himself. The only thing people should fear is Double Black entering their city unannounced.

“Which one is the driver boss hired?” Chuuya pondered, looking at all the different colored taxi cars lined up. Now that they had a good look at their surroundings, everything was bright and colorful; it made their eyes hurt.

“That one.” pointing at a bright yellow car, Dazai dragged the ginger over to it. They didn't need to ask for a ride as the driver understood immediately and unlocked the doors for them. If they were right, they're only twenty minutes away from their temporary hotel room. They'll speak with the school principal tomorrow and get everything officially situated. Still wearied, Chuuya rested his head on his partner's shoulder, pinching him slightly when the brunette tried to force him awake, earning a soft chuckle that would fall on deaf ears if you didn't pay close attention. Despite the current time and how relaxing a moving car felt to the taller, his eyes stayed open. It wasn't because of the flashing lights everywhere or the annoying, constant signs saying, “YOU CAN BE A HERO, TOO!” with a weird, smiling man behind the words; it wasn't even because they were in foreign territory. If someone attacked them, Dazai was a light sleeper, and Chuuya was currently in an ‘attack immediately’ phase due to unfortunate events.

The only culprit to blame was the organ in his head. It always stayed on, mushing his thoughts together in coherent-incoherent trains, and when he tried to turn it off, it turned into annoying static that was worse than a bug flying close to his ear. At least you could kill the bug — no matter what he did, death didn’t want to embrace him. However, he had to be grateful for the fact sometimes. If it did embrace him during those times he tried ending himself, and Mori had to save him “like he was in an action film”— or whatever Mori had compared it to— then he wouldn’t have met Odasaku — even though the way he chose to meet him is somewhat questionable, and he did receive a scolding for more-than-likely getting himself purposefully shot multiple times.

The best option Dazai could do was to prattle to the driver, driving him over the edge with an annoying voice and questions, but when that didn't work, he chose to stare out the window. Moving forward alight as the car stopped, the thin teen roughly shook his partner awake. The lassitude from the journey was present on his features as he stumbled slightly out of the car, thanking the driver.

“Such a slug you are…” Dazai tsked.

“Shut up, bastard.” Chuuya yawned, walking inside the hotel to the clerk.

“Hello, how may I help you?” the sweet lady asked, looking up from her computer.

“Hi, we booked a hotel room for the night yesterday, I believe.”

“Right, what's your name?”

“Nakahara Chuuya or Dazai Osamu. The bastard didn't tell me whose name he put it under.” the clerk giggled at the information, typing away on her computer.

“It's under Nakahara Chuuya,” standing up from her chair, she unlocked a key cabinet behind her and handed them one set.

“Your room is 137 on the second floor.” Chuuya nodded, thanking the lady before dragging his fish-eyed partner. It didn't take much to find their room because of the building's simple layout. The rooms went from 1-99 (first floor), 100-199 (second floor), and so on, according to the map by the elevator.

Once the duo reached their shared room, Dazai dragged his suitcase by the bed closest to the window, dropping it on the floor.

“So, what now?” Chuuya asked, getting out a pair of sleepwear. Despite not doing anything but sitting, he felt dirty, “and don't get in bed before taking a shower.”

“Hmph! Fine.” Dazai mumbled, opting to sit in a spinning chair, “but now, we should rest, and then tomorrow, make our way to the school. Mori said he'll give us more details tomorrow, and the first person we should see is our homeroom teacher, Aizawa, waiting for us by the school gates with Nezu.”

Bobbing his head, Chuuya lazily walked to the bathroom, necessities in hand.

Dazai sighed in the chair, spinning around in it three consecutive times before resolving to daydream about all the possible suicide attempts he could achieve. They had to have more creative, painless suicide tricks he could try out, but jumping out of countless buildings would prove tiresome. Perhaps the mutants he saw on the way could provide a painless death for him.

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Once Aizawa finished explaining everything that wouldn’t cause a panic, he zipped himself away inside the yellow sleeping bag stashed wherever he kept it. The extroverts of the class immediately turned to look at the two, excitement evident on their features, before they swarmed the desk.

“Hello, my name is Mina Ashido! I’m in seat two! My quirk is acid, and my Hero Name is Pinky!” The girl looked too excited telling information like that.  Everyone else began introducing themselves and their quirks, shocking the duo. They mostly let the enemies figure it out, but perhaps they should cut them slack. They aren’t enemies. It was still dumb, though.

 And hey, there was even a kid with invisibility! Dazai wondered how people would know if she were to be injured unless stated by her— would she even know if she was gravely wounded? If she obtained a cut, but adrenaline was too high, causing her body to numb it, would she know to get immediate medical attention? If— Dazai stopped his thought process immediately. He isn't supposed to go around torturing kids— not physically, at least.

“So you say your quirk is touch-based, so does that mean you control it like Aizawa can control his?”

“Actually, that is something we wish to correct. We didn’t know if it would be alright to answer, but the person dealing with me and the Chibi back at home stated it’s okay before we arrived,” This is a lie; Dazai hadn’t a clue if Mori is good with them mentioning abilities, but he doesn’t care what the man, who fears he’ll slit his throat, has to say. They were not going to restrict themselves, “but we’re from Yokohama, so quirks aren’t the norm… we have abilities! And they have complicated names.”

The entire class looked bewildered at that information before some started jumping with excitement— huh, perhaps they haven’t heard the rumors, or they did and don’t care because “why would potential “villains” go to a hero school and reveal themselves?” Exactly why he did, though he didn’t consider himself a “villain”— around them, practically begging for more information.

“What are your “abilities” names then?” Uraraka asked. A wide smile stretched across her face as stars formed in her eyes.

 Dazai smiled a faux smile. No matter where you looked, it seemed full of something, but if you knew him for some time, you would know it was bottomless like the blood sea, “‘No Longer Human.’ The slug’s is ‘Upon the Tainted Sorrow.’”

The class stilled at the information, likely wondering why the names were so depressing, but then an angry blond spoke up— he and the chibi would probably get along or go throat to throat. Both are intriguing options— “HAH?! WHAT THE HELL IS WITH THOSE NAMES?!”

 Dazai shrugged, a teasing smile on his face, “I haven’t a clue.”

“I have a question: is there a difference between abilities and quirks?” Yes, but Dazai wasn’t going to mention that. If quirks were rare— damn near extinct— in a closed-off city, then most would assume there wouldn’t be a lot of information regarding the phenomenon.

“I do not know; quirks are rare, and the government doesn’t care to study the phenomenon, only focusing on abilities.”

“Oh, that’s fine then!” Such a sweet child Midoriya is. Too bad children like Midoriya irritate the brunette— actually, all children irritate him, primarily Elise-Chan and her habit of copying habits.

“WHAT?! ARE YOU CALLING QUIRKS WEAK OR SOMETHING?!” the same blond shouted. Perhaps he has a weak ego, or maybe he has a reason to be angry.

“Do you never stop yelling?” the chibi asked, glaring at the blond. However, because cause and effect exist, the blond started yelling even more. Throat to throat it is, then.

It was currently a heroics class— which sounds funny to say— and All Might was teaching. Chuuya was hoping the brunette was lying when he informed him the (former) #1 hero was a teacher here, yet he didn’t know why he was surprised when the lanky bastard wasn’t fucking with him.

“Chuuya, stop staring at me as if I stole your hat— actually, where is your hat?”

“It wouldn’t have matched the uniform, so I didn’t wear it.” Sighing at his partner’s antics, he so desperately wanted to bury him alive, but he’d probably enjoy that.

“Wow! So, you do know fashion?”

“Shut up, you damn bastard!”

‘Where were they now?’ You may ask. Well, they were walking toward the boy’s locker room. The (former) top hero informed them that because they didn’t have hero outfits, they could stay in their gym wear until further notice, but the duo found it better if they didn’t have to deal with spandex. Perhaps the people would allow their mafia outfits. Once the duo entered the locker room, Dazai made a beeline for the stalls, case with his gym outfit in hand.

Chuuya pondered if that would be a better idea; he did have a lot of scars on his body that he would not like to mention— some from being a literal human experiment, while others are from everyday mafia stuff.

 Remembering how nosy the toddler-looking teen was towards Dazai’s bandages ad-libbed his mind immediately as he went to a stall. It wasn’t that he was ashamed of his scars, but referencing their origins always dampened his mood.

Once the two changed, Dazai fixing some of his bandages, they exited the locker room, joining the few outside.

“I can’t wait to see what we’re doing this time!” An excited glance shimmered from Kaminari’s eyes as he spoke loudly with another student.

“I want to see the new students in action!” Dazai sighed at the implications. He wasn’t physically weak per se; sometimes, the mafia required him to put his hands on someone, but he was only above average in that regard. Most of the time, his enemies were down because he used his brain and mentally tortured them, which resulted in him not physically fighting a lot despite Mori’s insistence it would make him better. Chuuya was and will always be the brawn in front of the brains, and he will always be the brains behind the brawn, so if a fight ensued, while he would have well-thought plans to ensure his win, it would still be irritating. Most called it laziness; he called it pointlessness.  Besides, aggravating people by dodging their attacks was more fun.

“If we’re doing teams, I hope we’re on different sides so I can whoop your bandaged ass…” Chuuya mumbled, but there was no bite with his words.

“Chuuya, you know lying isn’t your forte, right?” the ginger rolled his eyes, shoving Dazai’s shoulder a bit.

“Shut your ass up,” Chuuya grumbled before whispering, “And was it even smart to mention abilities?”

“All Mori-San said was to “not mention our current occupation here and back home.” He never mentioned anything about our powers, so if he has anything to say, he can suck it.” Dazai smiled, “besides, if I said we had quirks, we would have to limit our usage, and I know you don’t like limiting yourself unless necessary.”

“All right, class!” Chuuya looked around, perplexed to find the entire class out of the locker room, chatting with each other. How much time passed? He needed to stop talking with the mackerel; he was ruining his perception of time.

“Today, we will be doing faux battles! Not only to showcase improvement but to show what our new students are capable of! They have abilities instead of quirks, so it’ll be good to see the difference if more Yokohamans decide to leave their city!” Dazai almost snorted at that. Multiple Yokohamans left the city daily before returning due to having certified passports, yet they never possessed abilities for fear that the government would take a— liking to them. And the implications that Yokohamans would leave the port city and instantly be villains was laughable.

‘Do they think we lack class or something?’ Dazai asked himself, snickering a bit, ‘I mean, the chibi does, but—‘

“Yes, All Might-Sensei!” The class shouted in union. Everyone followed the muscular man to a screening area. The screens showed footage eyeing the training grounds. It was a rather large, empty field with white markings to outline the bounds. Large metal walls surrounded it so no stray attacks could damage anyone/anything outside.

“We had this constructed yesterday to provide more room for faux battles, and because the staff was tired of students obliterating the fake buildings for no reason…” All Might quickly explained, noticing the curious looks of the students. Clearing his throat, he spoke again,

 “Young heroes, you‘ll go against one another in a 1v1! I will pass out paper slips, and you are required to write your names on them. Then, we will put them in this bowl, so everything is random.”

All Might held the bowl filled with their names, shook it around ten times consecutively, and dug his hand inside, pulling out the first contestants.

“Minoru Mineta vs. Dazai Osamu.”

‘Oh, for fuck's sake!’ Dazai glanced at his opponent, watching as he stopped harassing the girls to look at him in shock. So, he's a pervert? Perhaps he could get on Kouyou’s good side by knocking him down a peg. Maybe then, she'll stop eyeing him when he's hanging out [read: dangerously teasing] the chibi.

 All Might guided them to the training grounds, instructing Mineta to go on the opposite side, and began explaining loud enough for the cameras to pick up,

“You all know what bounds are, correct? The white lines are the bounds! You can either knock out your opponent, weaken them, or kick them out of bounds! No seriously injuring your opponents— it will lead to you losing by default!" With that, he left the room, closing the metal door behind him.

The two stared at each other— well, Mineta stared at Dazai. The latter wasn't paying much attention to the child. The ground was concrete, creating a satisfying clicking sound when walked upon, and the air was cold.

  Dazai eyed the smaller coldly— if he paid attention, did he wet himself?— it was evident he lacked confidence and more than likely wanted to be here for a woman's touch.

 The moment a buzzer went off, Dazai didn't move an inch, which the gremlin probably took as potential leverage as he began taking off the hairballs and throwing them at Dazai.

Softly Sighing, the brunette skillfully evaded the purple balls thrown his way, discreetly making his way closer to the gremlin.

When Mineta threw a ball to his right, he dodged to the left.   Right —> left   Right <— left

 Sometimes, the kid would attack his feet, and he just sidestepped it. His subordinates— and anyone watching— would describe his dodging skills as ‘graceful’ and ‘precise.’

  Perhaps it is because of how his hair sways with the wind as he moves or the careful steps to not fully set his foot down so he can move more quickly and lightly while never taking his eyes off the target.

The kid grew aggravated, throwing balls when and wherever, hoping one would stick, forming a smirk on Dazai’s face, ‘now he’s bound to make a mistake.’ Dazai was happy he never clarified that human contact didn't matter— not that he needed to. Touch-activated should've been their warning.

 To make the kid furious, he started dodging the moment he predicted where the kid would throw a ball. Now the kid is thinking he has horrible aiming skills— how hilarious!

‘This is extremely boring,’ Dazai whined internally, ‘why did I get the actual enemy of all women? Life isn't fair!’

A ball was close to hitting his head; he dodged to the left while sidestepping a ball aimed at his leg at a pace anyone would've tripped themselves over. His entire plan was to get close enough to strike. Sure, he could've charged toward the kid, but this is the only entertainment— besides Chuuya— that’s present.

 Once he got to a close distance, he permitted himself to pity the kid, taking his attention off the target and allowing three balls to come towards his head, shoulder, and leg. At the same time, the kid grinned, thinking he had sway, and charged at the brunette, ready to attack his legs— like the gremlin he was— to try and tackle him. Yet, if he slowed down, he would’ve noticed the blue light enveloping the balls once they grazed his nose or clothing, fading away as words circled them.

A loud sound echoed within the training grounds, reverberating off the walls. Instantly, the kid was on the floor, knocked out, with a red mark on his jaw as Dazai stood over him, a bored glance in his eyes. Lowering his fist— not that he raised it very high— Dazai looked at the camera with a ‘what now?’ look.

Sometimes, Dazai’s ability was a nuisance. He always wanted to know what others' powers felt like— like how it felt to be weightless or get electrocuted, but the moment a power grazed him, the sensation was the first to go, not that it was ever there, to begin with, then the power itself fades.

Other times, it's a blessing. The number of times he almost died a painful death was too much to count. That's to say, seeing how sticky the purple balls were amusing. He needed to know how they felt, yet he’d never be able to. Walking back to the screening room, reluctantly carrying the unconscious teen, a lot of people congratulated him on the win, and he raised an eyebrow.

‘They say congratulations as if he was much of an opponent…’ he still accepted the praise, though, even if it made him want to crawl within his skin.

“Good job, young Dazai!” All Might praised, “The next contestant will be…” Dazai drowned out all the noise.

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Countless fights passed with multiple victors or ties as the outcome.

Midoriya vs. Aoyama —> Izuku Ashido vs. Iida —> Iida

So on and so forth. The only people left to fight were Chuuya, Tokoyami, Yaoyorozu, and Uraraka.

Then, as if the universe was tired of the boredom, All Might finally announced the impatient ginger’s name, “Chuuya Nakahara vs. Momo Yaoyorozu!”

The latter looked nervous before giving Chuuya an accepting smile, wishing him well with their battle. Chuuya nodded back at the girl, walking with All Might to the training grounds.

Now, unlike its previously polished and new appearance, the concrete looked used, with pieces of rubble on the ground from small cracks in its surface. However, the clicking sound emitted from it when you walked upon it was still loud and clear, echoing off the walls like when Dazai “fought” Mineta.

 The smell also went from something new and fresh to sweat and hardworking kids. Was this school a disguise for child soldiers?

Standing on opposite sides from each other, the two have one last nod before readying themselves for battle. Yaoyorozu immediately materialized a metal shield before thinking carefully about her next weapon choice. Once an idea formed, she materialized a net gun from her body as a blue and pink glow briefly formed around the objects.  Chuuya stared, amused, at the display; it seemed she took his ability into account, even if she didn't know its full extent. The instant All Might pressed the buzzer, a battle grin formed on his face.

Kicking forward into the air, simultaneously lowering his gravity, he flew toward Yaoyorozu before she could even blink. He prepared a drop-kick in the air, aiming for her shoulder, increasing the gravity slightly around his foot as it slammed down. Yaoyorozu quickly put up her shield, hiding behind it as Chuuya sent a side-kick toward it, pushing her back.

CLANK

CLANK

CLINK

Chuuya continually sent kicks her way— roundhouse, reverse hook, back kick, front kick— putting the black-haired girl in a formidable position as she tried to steady the net gun, though she couldn't get a good shot due to him flying away, coming back at a different side, forcing her to pay more attention to defense with her shield— the same shield that was about to break from the repeated assaults— to protect herself.

Honestly, this was the most fun Chuuya could have. He lowered his power output to not cause any harm and went free with his moves. It’s been a while since he fought someone in a mock battle, and even though they were on different levels of strength, every battle is a good battle in Chuuya’s eyes— even the ones that make him want to end his opponent or give up on fighting because of how easy the win is.

CLANK

CLINK

CLANK

With one harsh kick, Yaoyorozu’s eyes widened as her shield broke— her metal shield, mind you— throwing her so far back she almost crossed the boundary line. Rolling to a stop, standing, and readying herself for any brute attacks from the ginger, her face turned perplexed to find him standing, facing her.

‘But wasn’t he…’ she thought to herself; she hadn’t even seen him move! Chuuya reached a finger out and touched her shoulder. Instantly, she felt light as she began to float— though not the same as Ochaco’s quirk. She felt light— like nothing was holding her down. There was something with Ochaco’s quirk that made it seem she was still connected to the earth somehow, yet she never realized it until now. Is this what space felt like?  Chuuya gave one proud smile before gently pushing her shoulder, floating her out of bounds like a child pushing a nearly deflated balloon around the room.

Another buzzer went off, signaling the end of the fight as All Might quickly announced the winner.

Yaoyorozu, once she was weight-full again, sighed in defeat, congratulating Chuuya on his deserved win. She knew it wasn’t fair to be upset— it was a losing battle, anyway, yet the feeling kept eating at her. She only knew a few things about ability users, and that was due to her parents being as knowledgeable as they were, and one of them was how strong their abilities naturally are.

“Ah, it’s nothing. You did a good job keeping up with my attacks, you know!” Chuuya praised, leaving out the ‘not a lot of people are capable of that’ from his sentence. That would be incriminating, yet true. So far, only the mackerel could keep up with him, especially in a way he could land a hit. Though, his attacks are only above-average (slowly deteriorating to being average because of his laziness), so by default, they don’t do much to Chuuya but piss him off.

‘Weak bastard.’ Chuuya cursed at his partner, quickly pushing the suicidal fanatic out of his head, “It was fun battling with you; I hope to do so again in the future.”

Yaoyorozu looked happier after that.

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

“Chuuya! You’re such a brute!” Dazai skipped over to his partner, “Didn’t even let her get one hit in!”

“I apologize for not being borderline masochistic to do that.” Chuuya rubbed at his temples, glaring at the taller.

“I’m not masochistic! I despise pain!” Dazai tried to plead his case, but Chuuya merely raised an eyebrow.

“Uh-huh, sure.” The duo continued to bicker before their classmates came over to them, complimenting Chuuya on how strong he was.

“My, my, Chuuya~ look at all the attention you’re getting.” Dazai nudged his partner, preparing to leave him with the crowd before someone said his name, “And don’t forget about Dazai! I had never seen someone our age with such dodging skills. How graceful…”

Aoyama complimented, spiking Dazai’s mood. He thought the compliments were over with, but now everyone was complimenting them both.

“Yes, well, it’s Chuuya’s turn in the spotlight now, so…” the bandaged teen awkwardly spoke.

“Nu-uh, shitty bastard! If I have to deal with the crowd, so do you.”

“What— Chuuya!”

“Also, Dazai, I meant to ask you, but during your fight with Mineta, despite him never touching you, you still nullified his quirk…?” Midoriya asked curiously. Now everyone was looking at him—

‘wasn’t Uraraka and the bird guy supposed to go next??? All Might, please call onto them!’ Dazai pleaded; however, his prayers went unheard.  Midoriya already had his notebook out, awaiting his answer.

“Uh, well, I just said touch-based, so whether it’s the person or power, I’ll still nullify it.” Jeez, Dazai wanted to hide away; he made sure not to tell everything to the teen. He had no clue how to handle positive attention— most of the stuff he did land him with more insults or curses or both to his name. Everyone in his class looked at him, jaws agape.

“So cool…” most muttered.

“What about you, Chuuya? We saw you zooming around the place like crazy, and then when you floated Yaoyorozu out of bounds!”

“…gravity.” That was all Chuuya could say— seriously, did they NEED him to explain physics?

“…right.” Midoriya awkwardly replied.

“Chuuya, do you mind if I train with you? I can only make things float, but you seem so used to and comfortable with your power!” Uraraka practically begged— okay, no, she didn’t. She just had a hopeful look in her eyes.

“That’s fine.” Chuuya smiled nicely at the girl, making Dazai gag, earning him a bruised shin.

“Ochaco Uraraka…” Finally, the crowd dispersed to watch the final battle.

“I never want to be in the spotlight again…” Dazai whined, “I thought my turn would be over quickly if I went first…”

“Wait, did you cheat to make yourself go first?”

“Duh, but only for me— my opponent was completely random, so I’m still upset I got the pervert.”

“Aren’t you a pervert?”

“Asking women for double suicide in a romantic way isn’t perverted; touching women and making inappropriate comments, knowing they’re uncomfortable, is.” Dazai paused, “Though, I guess it depends on what you mean by perverted—“

“He’s what?” Chuuya looked shocked— how could the school allow this?

“You hadn’t noticed? Good, I was worried I’d have to tell Kouyou about you letting it slide.” Dazai smirked. Chuuya grew more disdain for the elf-sized human that day.

Mineta had an awful feeling someone was glaring murder at him, yet the gaze would lessen every time he turned around— was he getting pranked?

Dazai sighed, glancing at his partner’s childish antics of invoking fear within the purple-balled-haired teen. Mumbling something under his breath, he whispered to Chuuya:

“And here I thought I was going to be the one playing tricks.”

“I’m not playing tricks— he looks like the type to snitch, and I don’t feel like getting in trouble for making a waste of space piss himself,” Chuuya mumbled, taking his eyes off of his current prey, “I’m just shocked the school would allow someone like that in…”

“Yeah, well, that’s why us Yokohamans don’t like hero society. Their views are black and white, no gray. If you're willing to help the helpless, it doesn’t matter how horrible of a person you are, and if you're willing to cause harm, it doesn’t matter how gentle and caring you are— which is why we’ll never fit in.” Dazai mumbled the last part, going back to paying attention to their current class: PE.

 If their crimes did come to light, the reality of saving Yokohama from Verlaine’s lonely rampage, even sparing him in the end, would mean little, even if the lives they saved were much more than the ones they took.

“Was it smart to skip lunch?” Chuuya asked, despite the initial event happening three periods ago. It is now the last period before dismissal to the dorms. Thank you, Tenya Iida, for the timetables!

“Yes, lunch is one of the few periods that allows us to scope out the entire school without someone we know calling us out. Besides, you brought home lunch. If it makes you feel better, we can go tomorrow.” Dazai explained, looking around the PE grounds for a bit, noticing his temporary classmates training their quirks or doing fitness tests. Even though they have free reign, the chances of a teacher not being aware— which Dazai hopes Nezu made all teachers aware of their privilege— were too great to risk. Coming into contact with a classmate was even worse since they're bound to be unaware. He also found it unsavory to go “adventuring” during classes since the education could do his dog some good, and he wanted to improve his knowledge of the outside world to see if they're as much of a threat as Mori made them out to be. (even though the pedophile only made the league out as a risk, the history of heroes entering the port city is too much to let slide.)

“I wasn't asking for me, dumbass.” Dazai took no notice of the comment, instead focusing his attention on something else,

“Should we join in?” Chuuya looked at him, mouth agape.

“You never like training of any kind.”

“Yeah, true. Chuuya, go be a brute!” The comment sparked a minor bickering session between the duo, catching the attention of Aizawa.

“You two should be training.” he deadpanned, glaring softly at the two new slackers.

“Really?” Dazai whined, kicking a rock on the ground.

“Yes, despite the initial privileges granted to you, you both are still considered students. Now go.”

“Ugh, fine…” the brunette whined, “come on, dog.”

“I'm not your damn dog!”

“And please tone it down on the cursing,” Aizawa yelled at them, watching as they made their way to the rest of their classmates. ‘Why did I go into teaching?’ was all he could ask himself as Chuuya kicked Dazai to the ground.

“Chibi, this is so tiring…!” Dazai whined, doing nothing but watching as Chuuya effortlessly did 100 pushups in front of him.

“You're not even doing anything, bastard! How about you work on your muscles some instead of complaining?!” Chuuya berated the bandaged teen, who started to whine even more.

“Why do I need muscles when I work best with guns?” Dazai, switching his volume to whispering, made sure to get extra close to Chuuya to block out prying ears.

“Because guns won't be reliable 100% of the time.”

“Yes, they will, but only if you know what you're doing,” Dazai argued, crossing his arms like a pouting child.

“So childish…”

“Oh, please— as if you didn't tell me to play battle music when taking down the GSS.” the duo glared at each other before Dazai sighed reluctantly and got on the ground next to Chuuya, doing sit-ups next to him.

“You better complete at least fifty.” the ginger warned.

“Uh-huh, slug. Don't want to bring out your inner mother hen—” The brunette quickly dodged a punch— “Wow, Chuuya! So rude!”

“HEY! BASTARD!” Soukoku turned in the direction of the voice, looking extremely bored.

“Whaddya want?” Dazai cocked his head, eyeing the blond— Katsuki Bakugo— up and down. He (apparently) didn't appreciate it since he started glaring at the mummy cosplayer.

“Can it bandages!” Chuuya narrowed his eyes slightly, “You, ginger! Battle me!”

The straightforward statement bewildered Chuuya— what was this guy's deal?— before he fixed his face, remembering whatever reputation he has isn't relevant here.

“Why would I do that?” the ginger was desperately trying to keep a calm composure. Kouyou taught him better than this, yet he still had ways to go in the “ignoring Dazai” department. He didn't know if he'd ever accomplish that feat, though.

“One day, I'm going to be the number one hero! And you're a strong opponent, so I'll beat you!”

“Really, Bakugo?” Dazai stared, dazed, at the blond, “And here I thought you learned your lesson from getting kidnapped…”

“What did you say, punk?! I can beat you, too, you know!”

“Isn't your temper exactly why villains kidnapped you? It was all over the news, you know…” Dazai poked— something that came as a second nature to him. Honestly, comparing old and new footage of Bakugo, you can see he's trying to lower his temper and work on it, but it was too much fun bringing up people's misfortune.

The blond stared murder at the brunette; his hands were twitching as if he was itching to punch a hole into his face.

“Dazai, quite it.” Chuuya glared at his partner, “god, why do you always do this?”

“What could you possibly mean, chibi?”

“…” The ginger eyed his other half, glaring at him to shut it. Dazai complied. However, a pout was present on his face.

“Tch. All bark and no bite— learn to keep your friend's damned mouth shut.” Bakugo grumbled, walking away for the duo. Once he was out of ear reach, Chuuya smacked the back of Dazai’s head.

“Shitty bastard! Stop making an enemy out of everyone!” Dazai promptly ignored the human chihuahua, opting to analyze his classmates as they trained their quirks.

“It's all so odd…”

“Don’t go switching topics! But what is?”

“How evolution did powers so dirty…” Dazai murmurs, watching as Uraraka starts to throw up mid-air.

“Yeah, I suppose— makes you happy we have abilities, huh?”

“I would rather powers didn't exist…” Chuuya’s eyes widened slightly, “no matter if they're here or not, society is still dumb. In Yokohama, the topic of ability users is tip-toed over as if it's broken glass— organizations having to get permits to prove they aren't a danger to society, while here, if you have powers, as long as they're not villainous, you're praised and awarded many opportunities. Yet, if your power is “evil” or you weren't born with one, you're the joke of society and deserve all harm despite heroes existing to protect the ones who can't help themselves.”

“…” Chuuya listened intently to his partner’s rant. Even if his views on the matter were completely different, he couldn't deny that society was shittier with powers.

“But you can't change the world…” Dazai giggled humorlessly, “So it's best to leave the subject alone.”

The class period ended shortly after that. Iida took it upon himself to (robotically) guide the duo to their new dorms.

“The school recently installed the dorms after the raid incident, so they are fairly new,” Iida informed the duo— they were already aware, but he seemed so passionate, “here they are! The Heights Alliance Dormitories!”

Walking inside the establishment, Iida explained more— hey, if you remove an "I" then replace the other in Iida's name with an ‘O,’ you get Oda— of the structure of the building, “the first floor is the common area. The kitchen, bathroom, laundry, couches, television, and tables are here. The dorms begin on the second floor. Each room has eight rooms, but four per gender. The gentlemen are on the left; the ladies are on the right.”

“We have two open rooms. One on the fourth floor, another on the fifth— which is where the dorms stop.”

The trio walked up the stairs to the specified rooms. Inside, one of their luggage was already there.

“Chibi, that looks like yours.” Dazai analyzed. The suitcase inside was a shiny red velvet color— it was clear that it was expensive— and a bag of similar color accompanied it.

“Yeah, no—”

“Nu-uh, chibikko! Mr. Aizawa said no cursing~ bad doggie!” Chuuya gave one weak attempt at hitting the brunette, walked inside his new room, and slammed the door in the now duo’s faces.

“… well, onto your dorm now.”

The room was spacious, much like the chibi’s. It had air conditioning, a toilet, a bed, a fridge, a closet, and a balcony.

Dazai sighed as he shuffled over to his [read: Mori’s] pearl-black suitcase, unzipping it to reveal the few clothes he owned, along with enough bandages to last a month at best.

Grabbing his phone from a pocket, he quickly texted the ginger,

Slug 🐌🐶

Slug, I need to go shopping

Okay, how about in an hour?

And stop calling me that!

That’s fine

Dazai grabbed his charger, plugging it into the wall closest to the bed before charging his phone and throwing it on a pillow.

There wasn’t much he brought to bring life to his room besides a chess and checkers board— even though he favors the former more.

It was currently 17:03.

A knock sounded on his door, inciting a groan from the suicide fanatic.

“Coming…” opening the door, the sight of the excited faces of Ashido and Uraraka almost enlisted another groan from him.

“It’s so wonderful to have new dorm mates!” Ashido praised, “And because—“ her alien eyes trailed into his room, making her stop in her speech— “oh,”

“What?”

“Your room is so plain… have you no personality?” The pink girl joked. Dazai raised an eyebrow before pouting slightly,

“I didn’t know it was custom to decorate a dorm.”

“Well, duh! You're going to be staying here for a while!”

“Well, my dorm is rather plain…” Uraraka tried to console.

“Yeah, but at least you put some things up! His is the default!” Watching the girls go back and forth— Uraraka tries to say a plain room isn’t bad, while Ashido argues the opposite— was some unexpected entertainment that the brunette smiled at.

“At least put up one poster!” Ashido pleaded, “Or something that says this is your living space!”

“I will think about it.” that seemed to please the pink alien as she dragged the pink-cheeked girl to presumably Chuuya’s room, but not before reminding him that dinner would be ready in an hour.

Chuuya huffed at his phone, ‘I knew that bastard didn't pack enough clothes or bandages’ went through his mind only once before he began unpacking and organizing things.

Reminiscing about the new wine that recently came out a week ago and how he finally got his hands on it, the ginger hadn't heard the knocks on his door until the second round echoed.

“Ah, goddammit…” Opening his door, the duo of Uraraka and Ashido met his gaze.

“This is what I'm talking about!” Ashido cheered. Of all the few things he brought, his hat collection was one of them. They hung on a retractable stand Kouyou was nice enough to give him.

There were also a few breathing posters hung up so he could remind himself that murdering his partner was not the way.

“Still plain, but at least it's not the default!” the girl continued, intriguing Chuuya about what she meant.

“Ha?”

“Oh, right, well, Dazai’s room was super plain— it hurt my eyes!” Chuuya let a snicker out at that,

“Yeah, the bastard isn't keen on decorating.”

“Ugh! My heart! But anyway, dinner will be ready in an hour. Bakugo is cooking this week!” Chuuya slightly nodded at the girl, watching as she walked away, leaving the brunette girl behind.

“The Provisional Hero License Exam is coming up soon— though, you and Dazai aren't able to participate since you're newly arrived. But before then, I can try and get as many lessons from you as possible!” the young hero had a determined look in her eyes that Chuuya had to admire. Why were these people so determined to wear spandex?

“Yeah, sure, alright,” he mumbled, content with the excited expression he received from the girl.

“Bastard, you better come out of your room.” Chuuya growled, knocking heavily on Dazai’s door. He already took a shower and was now in a comfortable, red T-shirt, black leather jacket, ripped, black jeans, and black shoes— his hat was also at its rightful place, along with his choker and gloves.

“Whyyy?” The brunette’s muffled whine annoyed the ginger, “Chuuya is being so disruptive~”

“Dinner was finished yesterday, shithead! And then we have to go shopping because I know you didn’t pack enough bandages or clothes!”

“Wah! Chuuya, did you look inside my stuff?! Pervert!” Chuuya’s face was now red, and he was trying desperately to not punch a hole through the door.

If anyone would be viewed as the problem child, it would be Dazai.

Standing in front of the door nearly made the slug’s legs hurt before Dazai finally exited the room, “I have to go take a shower…”

“You should’ve done that ages ago!” Chuuya snarled at him.

“I know; I just wanted to annoy the Chibikko~” Chuuya kicked him down the stairs.

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

Dazai finally finished showering and was currently in his room, putting away his dirty clothes. He was currently fitted in a button-up shirt and black jeans.

“Please tell me that isn’t the only clothing you packed…” Chuuya murmured, glaring at his partner.

“Yeah, kinda. I don’t do much with my time outside the Port Mafia unlike a certain— feral— dog I know.”

“I would take offense to that if you weren’t such a miserable person.” Dazai feigned sadness, dramatically clasping a hand over his heart,

“Wow, chibi! You’re so rude to your master—“

“DO NOT START WITH THAT SHIT!”

“My, my, I should get the le—“

“DAZAI!”

The duo walked back down the stairs, bickering with each other— Chuuya threatening to break his legs + Dazai making inappropriate comments at the threat = more bickering ensues— before they were stopped by their teacher, Aizawa.

“Where are you two going?”

“Invoking our privilege.” Dazai grinned, narrowing his eyes slightly.

“I can see that, but I’ll need to know in case something unforeseen happens.” Aizawa grumbled, “Also, I don’t know if you guys are okay with this, but Principle Nezu informed the teachers of your special privileges. Not the reason, just the privileges.”

“That’s fine with us— we were actually hoping he would.” Chuuya spoke this time, hands in his pockets, “and to answer your question, we’re going shopping. The dead fish here didn’t pack enough necessities.”

Aizawa nodded, moving out of the duo’s way, “don’t get into trouble. If you come into contact with villains, you have permission to attack, just don’t cause a commotion.” ‘I don’t want anyone on the news anytime soon,’ he mumbled under his breath as he walked away. Soukoku gave a silent nod, understanding where the man was coming from.

Even though the society was backwards, and felt suffocating to live in, they could respect the man and his passion to protect his kids from anymore attacks whether it be from the media or villains— even if two of them aren’t official.

“Because it’s a school night, we’ll have to make it quick.” Dazai mumbled.

“No shit Sherlock. Do you have a knack for saying obvious shit?”

“If it annoys the chibi, then yes.”

 ╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

Twin Dark began walking back to the dormitories, bags in hand. Chuuya couldn’t help but buy some things himself, but he still didn’t have 50% of the bags.

The sun was currently down, and they spent enough time buying whatever.

“Chibi, do you think I’ll be able to convince the school to grant me firearms?”

“I highly doubt that.”

“Aww…” suddenly, Dazai’s face went serious. The dead fish-eye look Chuuya makes fun of him for gracing his features, “Chuuya, we’re being followed.” The whisper was so low, it took Chuuya a few seconds to understand what was said.

“Ha?! What makes you so sure?” He whispered back.

“Footsteps, and I can feel their eyes. The gaze would be intimidating if I was some random person.”

“Do you think they know who we are?”

“Highly doubt it.” The duo glanced at each other, serious looks on their faces. A silent communication ensued between them.

Dazai discreetly dropped his wallet— a sound echoed as it fell— walked a few steps from it, before feigning a worried reaction as he reached his hands into his pocket.

“Ah, chibi, I dropped my wallet…”

“Dumbass! Did you just figure that out?!” Chuuya shouted at his partner, turning around and ghostly moving his eyes behind the brunette. Indeed, there was a man hiding within the shadows— too bad the shadows were of second nature to the duo.

“I think so… wait, no! I heard it fall a few steps back…”

“This is why I don’t like going shopping with you! You’re always losing shit!” Chuuya turned around, eliciting a ‘Where are you going?’ from his bandaged partner, “I’m going back to the dorms! Don’t get killed— actually do as you please.”

“Wah! Chuuya!~” the chibi’s figure faded off into the distance, leaving a sulking Dazai behind, who turned around to search for his “missing” wallet.

“Dumb chibi… stupid slug…” he mumbled under his breath, looking for where he dropped his wallet, the bags around his arms making it uncomfortable to move.

“Ahem, is this perhaps what you’re looking for?” Dazai feigned flinching, looking at the stranger warily.

The stranger in black did indeed have his wallet, holding it out to the teen with a concealed face.

“Yes, it is. Thank you, mister.” Dazai took his wallet, bowing at the stranger.

“No problem, child…” how creepy… the man’s voice was raspy and had an edge to it.

“I should get going now— bye!” The faux cheerfulness faded once he was a good distance from the male. The feeling of being stalked was no more, yet that only made the brunette more confused.

‘What was his reason for that? Perhaps I’m missing something.’ Chuuya appeared from where he hid himself, elbowing the lanky teen next to him.

“So?”

“Hm?”

“Bastard! I’m asking about your conclusion!”

“Oh, yeah, I don’t know. I tried to get a glimpse of his face, but that was impossible without incriminating myself. Though, his voice sounded familiar. I can’t pinpoint it though. He was also really creepy.”

“Yeah, I get the last part; he’s following teens! But an unknown face, yet familiar voice? Do you think it’s someone we’ve met?”

“Like I said, I highly doubt it. If it’s someone from Port Mafia, they wouldn’t have the guts to be creepy towards us . And if it’s someone we left alive, I’m pretty sure they’re in a mental ward for emotional trauma.”

“Yet, everything you're saying is hypothetical, right?” Chuuya bumped his shoulder, a skeptical look on his face, “I say we go and kill him before something comes up.”

“Ah! Look at my dog~ using big words! So sad you’re such a brute…” Dazai whined, the light returning to a blood-brown eye, “I was hoping you’ll be my Mister Peabody…”

“No, because that’ll make you Sherman, and I don’t feel like babysitting you any longer.”

“Ouch! Chuuya!!! My heart…”

“Shut the hell up!”

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

The atmosphere of the room was stiff. Aizawa stared at the two, un-amusement plastered on his face. It was late into the evening, the violet-orange color slowly fading into pitch black as the sound of crickets coming to life as birds and other animals flocked to their homes. Everything in the dormitory was quiet— so quiet that you could probably hear the security robots patrolling the perimeter.

“Do you know how late it is? I understand you’re here on a job, but please try not to stay out for too long.” Aizawa scolded. His eyes looked worse for wear, and his eye bags didn’t help much at all.

“Our apologies. The bastard here wanted to take his precious time finding bandages.” Chuuya complained, and it was true. Dazai took more time looking for a good brand of bandages instead of clothes.

Aizawa looked as if he wanted to question ‘why’ but kept his mouth shut. The reaction the teen had to other people asking about the whites wrapped around his body evoked his mind.

“But we can’t promise we won’t do it again.” The previously mentioned boy grinned from ear-to-ear, yet no matter how big the expression grew, it never seemed to reach his eyes, creating unease within Aizawa. Chuuya began mumbling something under his breath, dragging the teen with him up the stairs.

“Stop scaring people, you blind bastard!” Dazai had to let a chuckle out before responding, “I’m only partially blind, chibiii!”

Chuuya had to scoff at that, “whatever.”

“Besides, you can’t talk about eyes! You wear contacts!” Dazai whined, earning a kick to the shin.

“Remind me to never tell you anything.”

“No, thanks!” Even though they bicker and bicker with each other about how much they don’t trust each other, there will always be a place within their hearts that’ll blindly trust the other with information or better: their lives.

“Chuuya, why did you bring so many hats? And they’re all ugly!”

“Why are you in my room? And keep your voice down!” Chuuya whisper-shouted, earning a pout from Dazai.

“Hmph! I don’t want to be in the slug’s room any longer… it’ll infect me with sluggishness!” Chuuya could only watch in annoyance as the younger walked out of the room to the stairs, nearly tripping over the first one.

“That’s what your dumbass gets.” He muttered under his breath, closing his door and locking it, “I should get a restraining order against that weirdo.”

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

“Shigaraki, is there a reason you’re scratching at your neck obsessively?” Kurogiri asked, cleaning out a whiskey glass.

“I don’t know… but I saw two brats on the street late at night…”

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

Walking in the beginning of night, black hoodie over his head, and emerging within the darkness of the brightly lit city of Musutafu, Japan, there was Shigaraki.

He had no reason to be out— apart from scoping the area to gain more information for his next course of action, which would be, of course, to send Toga to the Provisional License Exam to extract blood.

Breaking from his thoughts, obnoxious chatter enveloped his ears, annoying him immensely. Perhaps they were one of those pathetic brats that assumed heroes would come at their beck and call if they were in danger.

Fighting the urge to scratch at his scarily dry skin, his crimson red eyes glared harshly in the direction of the teens. He wanted to deal with them, but that would cause too much attention— some heroes were patrolling, after all, and he had to be careful, especially since his mentor was arrested.

Yet, the moment he caught a glimpse of lion-colored hair and extremely dark brown hair, his eyes widened slightly, and his hands subconsciously raised to scratch at his neck.

Why did they look familiar? They shouldn’t be familiar. Where did he see them to be met with such familiarity? Nowhere here, that’s for sure. Perhaps Yokohama? The League was making more attempts to enter the city— no matter how foolish. They just used lackies that were affordable to lose— but that didn’t make sense. Not only did the people there rarely leave— or at least… that’s what the general public would assume— he went a few times with them, frustrated from their failures, thinking they were being incompetent.

But if they were from there, he should’ve recognized them— it’s not easy to forget such foreign faces, so they shouldn’t be from there, but why—?

Oh, crap. He started subconsciously following them.

Stopping in his tracks, the taller of the two had dropped his wallet, and the shorter started telling him off, leaving him alone— how dumb.

Noticing the wallet, Shigaraki picked it up, two fingers off, and heard as the brunette began degrading his supposed friend.

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

“And then?” Kurogiri asked, finished with the cleaning, and now standing as if awaiting orders.

“I gave him back his wallet and went my way.” Shigaraki sighed, stopping his hands from moving to his neck, again.

“Was there a reason you felt such familiarity?”

“Nope. Never seen the brats a day in my life.” Kurogiri went back to cleaning, this time, wiping down the counter and organizing the alcohol in the new dingy hideout. It was rather close to the borders of Yokohama. You could tell by how abandoned everything is around it.

Supposedly, after the border was put around the main city, people moved and forgot about the surrounding area, leaving it to rot like they left their unfortunate citizens to.

And it was all for fear of Yokohamans getting angry at them for being so close to the border, but the rare— now extinct— occasions someone would “catch” and interview someone from the city, they showed indifference about people being close to the border. That was 200 years ago. Any existing footage wiped clean from general searches. Now, you have to sell an arm and a leg and pray whoever’s selling footage isn’t scamming you.

So that’s to say, who knew if they held those same opinions?

 ╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

Chuuya was sleeping cozily in his bed, mind blank due to the curse— or would it be a blessing?— of not having dreams.

No thoughts existed. No wonky memories played. Only darkness— until something fell over in his room, sending him on immediate alert.

Upon realizing that it was the hat stand that fell over, he grumpily got out of bed, checking the time: 3:00 A.M. wow. What an amazing time to wake up at— said no one ever.

Picking up his now disorganized hats, setting them aside for morning Chuuya to worry about, he stretched his limbs and headed to the kitchen, suddenly plagued with dehydration.

The walk was quiet. No stairs or floorboards creaked, and the kitchen’s light switch was near silent when flickered.

Grabbing a glass and pouring some water, he instantly made his way back upstairs, but not before being cut off by a voice,

“Can’t sleep either, huh?” Snapping his head— damn near getting whiplash— Midoriya stood in his sight, notebook in hand. Was he born with the damn object??

“Huh, oh, no. Something fell over in my room and woke me up.”

“Ah, sorry for assuming.” The teen sheepishly apologized— what is up with him and apologizing?

“It’s fine. Why are you up?”

“Couldn’t sleep… Some recent events are keeping me up, that's all.” Ah— wait, why did Chuuya feel as if he was in one of those dramatic television shows Dazai forces him to watch?

His default would be to say ‘that sucks’ and try to comfort the boy, memories of The Sheep coming to corrupt his mind, but he wasn’t close to the boy, and he feared it would make them both uncomfortable.

“I understand; I also have thoughts that keep me up.” The words left his mouth before he could register it. While it’s true, he mostly forced himself to sleep since they couldn’t haunt him there, and he didn’t want to give up sensitive information. No matter how small!

The boy— smart lad he was— seemed to notice the uncomforting tone of Chuuya’s voice and waved his hand dismissively.

“My bad! I shouldn’t tell my business to people who just arrived! You don’t even know the curse that plagues this class!” The green-haired teen quickly passed by him, and walked up the stairs to his room, leaving a bolstered— was it bad for him to feel this way?— Chuuya by the stairs.

After a few moments, he walked up the stairs to the fourth floor and into his room, flopping onto the bed like a fish— ew, mackerel.

A ding was faintly heard, and he automatically reached for the device, opening it to find a new message:

Mackerel 🩹🐟

Chibi, are you awake?

The boss sent me more details concerning the LoV

We can discuss tomorrow

Okay

Now take your ass to sleep 😐

Wah! Nooo

Chuuya quickly turned off his phone; he was not going to be pissed and asleep. That always resulted in him being grumpy, and frankly, these poor bastards have yet to earn that side of him— apart from a certain harasser.

“So, what did Mori say?” Inquired Chuuya, who was currently getting on his school uniform. Dazai was already in his, but that’s because the bastard doesn’t sleep and busies himself with random things. It was currently 6:37 A.M., and homeroom began at 8:25. They were indeed up earlier than they needed to be.

“Numbers.”

“Hah?” Chuuya raised an eyebrow at his partner, putting on his choker in place of the red tie, “Mackerel, stop fucking with me.”

“I’m not! Besides, ew, who would wanna—“

“Dazai!” A cackle left the younger's mouth as he doubled over, holding his stomach as if he told the funniest joke alive.

“Anyway—“ the brunette instantly fixed himself, a smug smile on his face— “I was serious; Mori-San sent the instructions via numbers.”

He held out his phone to the ginger, allowing him to take it. On it, the contents were:

Old Man 👶

Delete immediately after reading 

4 1 26 1 9 0 8 5 18 5 0 1 18 5 0 20 8 3 0 6 9 12 5 19 0 25 15 21 0 18 5 17 21 5 19 20 5 4 [Read: Dazai, here are the files you requested]

Numerical code had to be the duo’s least favorite form of communication. Sure, it was simple to understand, but it being simple was why it sucked.

The files' contents contained numerous confirmed or speculated crimes that were tied harshly around the neck of the Leagues, leaving dark purple bruises as if they hung on a noose.

Perhaps that’s what the LoV is— a place of constant dancing in the air as the rope ties tighter and tighter around your neck until, finally, you’re either free from it or your life; a place where you deliberately fight to change an unfortunate reality, just like someone who’s hanging on a noose. For someone so desperate to change their life, death seems to be the easiest solution. Because change is change, after all, no matter how bad the road to it is.

It’s not as if Soukoku admires the league. They could part, and it would be a typical Tuesday. ‘One threat down, moving onto the next’ type of situation.

Multiple on-camera photos of the organization trying to break into the closed-off city blared on the phone screen. Each snapshot contained an assortment of people, some from the last raid present in the next one. The only person there, however, who seldom showed would have to be a male in black with hands all over his body and light blue hair.

“Perhaps he’s some big shot?” Chuuya asked, “Hence his low appearance. I mean, most of these people seemed to be reused unless something were to happen to them, so it makes no sense for him to appear seldomly.”

“Oh, wow! My dog is becoming so smart!” Dazai cheered, sluggishly hanging an arm around the older’s shoulder.

“Hey, jackass! I’m not clueless; I can piece things together!”

“Oh, no… my dog is getting an ego now…”

“Bastard!”

“Whatever— but you’re, sadly, right. That guy is the leader of the LoV: Tomura Shigaraki. His real name is suspected to be Tenko Shimura, but the informant tasked with investigating has yet to send any damning files to me.” Chuuya’s eye twitched at the ‘sadly’ comment, forcing him to fight back the urge to curse out the younger.

“There’s an informant on the case?”

“Not one that Mori is aware of—” Chuuya eyed his partner suspiciously— “What?! No need to be suspicious~ it’s just a ‘nobody’ subordinate of mine!” Dazai waved his hand dismissively, signaling the end of the conversation.

“Whatever. So, is there any more information?”

“Duh, there’s information on all the members! To name a few:

Kurogiri: he’s second-in-command, and his quirk is Warp Gate. It allows him to teleport, but he needs a basis on where to open his portals.

Toga Himiko: her quirk is Transform. When she consumes her victim's blood, she can transform into them.

Dabi: real name: Toya Todoroki! How scandalous!— his quirk is Blueflame. Very self-explanatory.

Spinner: his quirk is Gecko; he looks like a gecko.

Twice: his quirk is Double; he can duplicate himself.

Mr. Compress: his quirk is Compress; he turns anything into marble balls.

Daruma Ujiko: his quirk is called Life Force— Mori didn't gather much information about it, but he’s a faithful servant of AFO.

Gigantomachia: there’s little to nothing about him currently, but he’s also a faithful servant.

And Magne: her quirk is called Magnetism; it allows her to magnetize the people around her, but only up to a 4.5-meter radius of themselves.

They also have these creatures called Nomu. They're essentially deceased human experiments stuffed with multiple powers until they become inhuman.”

“Those are so little numbers…” Chuuya mumbled, picking up how lazy Dazai got with the explanations. He tried to keep his mind off the “human experiments” part, but his mind kept lingering.

“Not really, those are just the most prominent. The majority have already been arrested, are dead, or aren’t as critical. And…” Dazai hollowly smiled, “Toga, Dabi, Mr. Compress, and Magne were all there— as a part of a Vanguard squad— when Bakugo got kidnapped. Hence, they’re important to keep track of. Don’t want Toga taking your blood~”

“So, there are more members?”

“Yes, but they aren’t as important— gosh, how much do you want me to repeat that?” Dazai quickly dodged a punch to the throat.

As they swept through the files, looking through their targets' available weaknesses, a knock sounded through the room.

Chuuya opened the door to find Iida standing outside, uniform freshly on and his hair looking extravagantly neat.

“Oh, you’re already ready? That’s good! Punctuality is the best thing for a hero!” The blue-haired teen praised, “Now, I’ll be on my way to make sure Dazai-Kun is awake—”

He stopped short in his sentence, noticing Dazai sitting on a chair, fully dressed, phone in hand, and boredom etched into his features.

“Oh, wait, why are you in his room? How long have you both been up—”

“Relax. I’m in Chuu's room because we're the best of friends, and we’ve been up since 6:00.” A grin plastered on Dazai’s face before he quickly looked at the time: 7:19

That seemed to make the teen even more proud as he began praising them for being such “early risers”— whatever the fuck that meant— and how he prefers the rest of the class to be like them. He then left, yelling out Mineta’s name as he began his typical harassment of women— why does no one take it seriously enough? Because if Chuuya had to step in, his next appearance would be with a mugshot.

“Today, I’m asking if I can equip a gun or something similar.” Chuuya looked at his partner, sorry for the unsuspecting if he were to gain permission.

“Did you delete the files?”

“Yes, Chibi~ I’m not sluggish like you.” Dazai quickly ran out of the room, avoiding his partner's wrath.

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

Soukoku + Iida decided to go to homeroom somewhat early for two dissimilar reasons: one wanted to show punctuality; the other two wanted to be left to their thoughts without loud children yapping as they got ready.

Delicate tapping noises whispered in the room. The faint noise rivaled that of wind blowing softly against your ears.

A silent conversation that required more than a look to get words across.

••• –––/ •–– •••• •– –/ ••• •••• ––– ••– •–•• –••/ •–– •/ –•• ––– [Read: so, what should we do?] came the chibi’s question.

But soft, seraphic words followed, disguised as ‘telling a friend some landlines’ to hide their hidden meanings.

“23 5 0 23 1 9 20” [Read: we wait] but then a moment of reflection wept across the taller’s face, like a saddening epiphany cursed him, “9 0 23 9 12 12 0 20 5 12 12 0 25 15 21 0 12 1 20 5 18” [Read: I will tell you later]

Chuuya accepted the answer— as long as his partner was willing to tell him instead of leading him like a wild goose, he would be fine— and contemplated tapping something out but refrained.

Even if he were to know the brunette's thoughts, there would always be something detrimental left out.

Before they left for homeroom, Dazai had mentioned something to the ginger about what he planned to do with the league. Curious, the ginger was, but he knew that was all the brunette was willing to tell him presently. Typically, when the mummy cosplayer says something like that, he doesn’t want to go the usual route (which consists of murdering their foes) and has something else in mind, which wasn’t bad for this case since Mori only said to deal with them. Any talk of murder was purely default. Even if the lanky teen sent them across the world to be someone else’s problem, he’s still dealing with them.

Eyeing his partner out of the corner of his eye, a moment of clarity hit him,

“Shit,” Chuuya mumbled, slightly slumping on the other’s desk, “what are you planning?”

“Oh? Didn’t I tell the chibi I’ll tell him later?”

“Yeah, but 100% of the time, in a situation like this, you do something so bewildering that it requires me to save your lanky ass.” Dazai glared slightly at the ginger— which was futile. A grown man may cower under his stare, but using it against someone with a singularity inside of them? You have a better chance of world domination by pigs than that— sighing when the shorter didn't let up, instead opting to glare harshly at the brunette.

“You remember my previously mentioned informant?”

“The same informant that's a subordinate of yours?” Chuuya nodded, eyeing the mahogany-eyed teen, “what about them? And who even is it?”

“they’re a nobody. Besides, they're a temporary subordinate! But anyway—” The racket of loud teens entering the room interrupted their conversation. Chuuya went back to his original position, eyeing his partner with annoyance. Dazai feigned ignorance, “happily” smiling (it was as dead as a carcass) at the front of his room.

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

After Aizawa finished talking, he climbed inside his sleeping bag and left the class to converse with one another.

Dazai, in a daze, immediately asked Chuuya a question that honestly left him curious:

“Hey, Chuuya? Do you think my ability would nullify mutants? I suspect ‘maybe?’ but I'm not sure.” Chuuya stared at his partner in puzzlement before thinking about it,

“You said quirks are more biological, at least the adaption part is, and you can still nullify the power, so possibly?” Dazai nodded, “why do you even want to know?”

“Think about it, Chuuya, some people looks are there to help manage their quirks or due to their quirks, but when you get rid of the actual power, what would be the reason for the appearance?” Chuuya found that to be reasonable before rolling his eyes,

“Don’t go harassing people and their powers, Bastard.”

“I won’t, I won’t, but the thought only came to me because I was under the impression my power wouldn’t work, but last night, I thought extremely hard about it!”

“So what? You’re planning on making the invisible girl visible?”

“Nah, don’t worry so much! You’ll shrink if you do—” Dazai was pushed to the ground— “bad dog!”

To say the situation sucked would be an understatement. Despite the permission to attack when there’s an unprecedented threat, and to go wherever as long as no bodily harm was done to a staff member or student, Soukoku weren’t allowed to participate in the hero studies, and because they never bothered to attend the remedial courses due to 1. Already having permission to attack and 2. Not staying in Musutafu after this is over, so it’ll be tricky for Dazai to go anywhere around the Shie Hassaikai headquarters, especially because Midoriya was working with some hero named “Sir Nighteye,” someone Dazai made sure to do extensive research on, only to find he was All Might’s old sidekick— wow, the big guy had a sidekick!— and the man works close enough to the area, so patrolling in the region would be tricky to navigate…

So, here was the brunette now, stalking the halls of said hideout— if he wanted this on a roll, he needed a perfect cause and effect to take place. It had to be perfect, too. One wrong move and it’ll cost the little girl’s life, and Chuuya would be even angrier at him. What a pity… even after he went through the trouble of getting the ginger some more video games while he had to stay back in the dormitories.

The walk was boring, to say the least, as the girl’s prison was hidden underneath the hideout. The more Dazai went down into the labyrinth, the more it became clear that it was indeed the right place. It was lonely and secure; like the basement Verlaine chooses to waste his days in. The only difference was that Verlaine could leave his confinement whenever he pleased; he just didn’t want to.

Bypassing any form of security was relatively easy, too, so there was no form of excitement to be gained from this.

‘Ah, this must be it,’ eyeing the cell, there was the figure of a little girl. She looked to be in some form of agony, distraught, and fear— a terrible mixture of emotions that Dazai tends to inflict onto others, but luckily for this girl, she is not his typical victim. And to say the sight was vexing would be an understatement.

The young girl was wrapped in bandages, wearing clothes that looked to be from a hospital, and Dazai hated hospital wear. Most notably, she had a horn sticking out the right side of her head. Dazai was a tad bit conflicted on how to proceed; it’s the first time he’s seen the girl, he’s only heard her being mentioned vaguely by the beak-wearing dude. Looking around cautiously, Dazai noticed some sort of guard keeping watch and smirked.

The perfect coverup.

.

.

.

Truthfully, he couldn’t tell you why he was outside as of now other than to get some fresh air, buy wine from anyone willing to sell it to the underaged, and go find some new game that wasn’t dressing up dogs, of all things (he will be having a word with a stinky fish), but when the sudden weight of someone crashing into him broke him out of his trance, he nearly had to stop himself from inflicting gravity upon the poor soul due to this being an alleyway and anything was possible, but looking down, his heart stopped, and how grateful he was that he didn’t listen to his instincts. It was a small child, no older than five? Six? He’d have to ask, but she was covered in bandages and looked to be wearing some hospital gown— or just a gown in general; Chuuya never bothered to pay attention to a place that brought him so much unease. The girl had a horn growing from her head and looked frightened. The ginger looked around slightly— where were the more reliable people when you needed them? Not that Chuuya can’t be reliable, but this isn’t his city to be reliable in.

“What’s your name?” The voice of a caring guardian was one Chuuya could remember taking ever since, well, ever since he started remembering at the age of ten, or was it seven? Jeez, his memories are blurring. “And are you okay? Do you need help?” It was a stupid question, but what if the girl was 100% fine, and only got spooked by some stray animal? But rationally thinking, the fear and injuries revolving around the girl are not caused by an animal spooking you— unless it is, but Chuuya knows what he’s saying!

The young one looked afraid to speak, like something was holding her back as tears seemed to prick the side of her eyes. Chuuya was about to tell her to take her time and that he’d keep her safe before the sound of footsteps clicking softly against the pavement got his attention. There was a man with a beak on his face. He seemed like the definition of nonchalant, his eyes were even on the “softer,” more calm side.

“My apologies about my daughter,” the moment the man spoke, the girl seemed to tense even more, “she tends to get carried away with her games.” Chuuya didn’t know how to proceed; he wanted to plummet the guy because genuinelyhe’d heard better excuses from delivery drivers, but at the same time, he didn’t know the situation, so he gave a slight nod in return.

“It’s alright; I used to take care of kids, so I know how they can get…” the reply was uncertain as the ginger’s brain stalked out for any changes in demeanor of the other guy, then, as if a prayer was answered, he heard the familiar voice of Midoriya getting closer to him.

“Chuuya-San? What are you doing here?” asked the younger.

“Hm? Oh, I was going on a walk before I decided to follow my GPS to a nearby game store; it’s supposed to be on the other end of this alley…” Midoriya nodded his head before his eyes widened slightly.

“Oh, no! The alley you’re talking about is a block away; you turned too early.”

“Oh?” The ginger didn’t even have to fake his disappointment; he didn’t get lost often, but when he does, it’s always embarrassing.

“Yeah, but— oh? Hello, who are you?” Finally! The kid’s attention was on, well, the actual kid, now as he crouched down.

“Oh, right, she bumped into me and nearly gave me a fright.” Midoriya nodded his head before the last piece of company cleared his voice, gaining all of their attention, while the girl tried to bury herself even further into Chuuya’s legs. Instinctively, his eyes narrowed.

“Eri, dear, please come on before you cause more problems for these young gentlemen.” Despite the caring tone he used, there was an underlying tone of intimidation, and to confirm if Chuuya heard it right, the girl whimpered slightly and began shaking, “Eri—”

Luckily, the freckled teen beside him wasn’t an idiot, and picked up on the girl’s hesitation, too, “your daughter seems scared of something,” a very simple sentence, but the way the man’s demeanor changed was extremely telling, “if I may ask, why is she covered in bandages?” The tension was thick before the man sighed as if he was… fond?

“Eri, here, falls down a lot. A very clumsy child she is.” The man cleared his throat slightly, his hand going to “cover” his mouth despite the beak on his face, “If I may ask, please don’t impose your ideals of “normal” on others’ family.” Chuuya stared back and forth between the most definite abuser and the confident teen, not knowing if he should involve himself or leave it to them to glare at each other. Luckily, he didn’t need to because Mirio arrived, and inquired about the situation.

“Deku, it’s best if we leave; many people have varying dispositions, and Nakahara-Kun, I’ll show you the way to the game store,” the blond gave an encouraging smile, but behind it held caution. It didn’t take a genius to know the situation was entering dangerous territory, especially with a child and technical bystander around. Chuuya was a bit relieved the blond hadn’t said his first name; he was sure it was more well-known than his last name, since everyone referred to him by it.

“What are you doing to this child?” And there was the deal-breaker question. Everything went oddly quiet, and Mirio looked about ready to defend whoever before the man chuckled slightly in a freely

“Did I frighten you all? My apologies. Come, follow me; the situation with my daughter is an embarrassing one.” Mirio looked at Chuuya— a nod; Chuuya looked at Midoriya— another nod; Midoriya looked at Mirio— one final nod. The freckled teen picked the girl up in his arms, as they began walking through the alleyway, following the beaked man as he ranted on and on about how hard it was for him to understand children, and how his daughter has the tendency to defy him.

It was all so awkward until the man started to remove a white glove, and Eri tensed, forcing herself out of the young hero’s arms and rushing over to her father, and only then, did he stop removing them.

“My apologies for my daughter’s tantrum and thank you for listening to my worries…” Izuku looked ready to chase after them, but Mirio stopped him, motioning to Chuuya. Reluctantly, the duo followed the last of the trio out of the alleyway.

“Let’s get you to the game store, right Chuuya-kun?” Izuku gave a nervous smile, “And my apologies for keeping you there for so long… if something happened then you could’ve gotten injured.”

“It’s no problem.” Smiled the ginger; he wasn’t about to say he could handle himself, the younger more than likely already knew that, but since he’s under the impression that he doesn’t have permission to attack, it makes sense for him to assume the mafioso wouldn’t defend himself all in the name of a license. As the trio walked away from the alleyway, parting since Midoriya and Mirio still had patrolling to do, Chuuya couldn’t help but think back to the girl. Truth be told, he felt like he failed her in some way because it was obvious that she wasn’t safe.

.

.

.

From the shadows, Dazai watched as Overhaul got vexed at the person who was supposed to watch over Eri— the child— before killing him. Harsh, considering it was Dazai who distracted him with his presence, but how do you explain that the Demon Prodigy gives a damn about some innocent child, so he led you on a wild goose chase that made you look mental? Exactly, you don’t because anyone worth their salt knows he doesn’t care. It’s just principle. If Dazai was disappointed that whoever found Eri didn’t down-right run away with her, that would be something he’d journal down in his mind.

Chrono, the right-hand man of the beaked man was busy being ordered around as Overhaul started to scold the child, telling her to not be selfish, of all things, before he led her to the experimentation lab.

Dazai quickly left, not wanting to sully his eyes with a child being torn apart and put back together, or his ears with her weakening cries; he does not take pleasure in the act of torture, especially of kids, whether committed by him or another. If he needs to, it’s because that’s the “optimal solution,” as said by Mori, and this situation lacks that.

“Chibi, are you alright? You’ve been acting like this for a couple of days now.” We’re the first words to leave the brunette’s mouth once he saw his partner; his partner’s shoulders slumped, and eyes dimmed from their usual fire as if someone took a fire extinguisher to them personally— only the person who did it was himself. This reaction only happens when he feels he failed at something or someone and tries convincing himself otherwise, only for it to lead into a downward spiral.

It had been four days since the attempt, and Dazai had spent it gaining more information about Overhaul— otherwise known as Kai Chisaki— and everyone not involved with the hero studies (Todoroki and Bakugo) was looking at the ginger either confused or concerned. The skinny teen had to dismiss them from bothering Chuuya so he could get to the bottom of his diminished mood.

And now, the duo was sitting in the common area on the couch with some random video playing to distract prying ears.

“There… there was a kid, and…” oh, oh… so he found the Yakuza’s lab experiment? How come he didn’t— “I wanted to take her with me, especially once her father arrived, but then Midoriya and Mirio arrived, and I couldn’t threaten the guy.”

“Is there a reason you wanted to take her with you? I mean, chibikko, you can’t just kidnap some random child off the streets.”

“Yes— multiple! Dazai, you’d probably understand if you saw her. I mean, she was covered in bandages, had a hospital-like gown on, and looked so, so malnourished— no, I know you’d understand! You would help me get her if you saw!” Dazai listened patiently to Chuuya’s ranting, knowing their reasons for helping stemmed from differing views.

Chuuya would’ve wanted to help because Eri is only a child; Dazai would’ve wanted to help because Chuuya does dumb things on impulse. Not because he genuinely cares what happens to the child. No, that sort of emotion is something Dazai tries to leave alone in this life. The ranting quickly went from sympathizing with the girl to promising hell upon her “father.”

“Why don’t we go back to get her then?” That was it; Dazai had decided this as his course of action. Around this time, the pro heroes should have been aware of the girl and how serious her situation was; however, they were taking so long to rescue her, and it was tiring— if honesty was required— and the longer they waited to rescue the girl, the more detrimental the situation became.

Bullets that temporarily erase quirks? Genuinely, it’s something Soukoku couldn’t bother to care for, but what if this is successful? What if they make nullifying bullets aimed at abilities? That would create more issues the duo knew Mori would make them handle, especially if it’s to keep the government from them (or to come up with some deal that benefits the Port Mafia).

“Really?” The ginger’s eyes widened, a smile creeping across his face. The brunette nodded devilishly, a mischievous glint shimmering in his chestnut eye. But then his face fell, and he had an accusing look adorning his features, “were you aware of the girl this entire time? You never go along with my ideas unless it falls into your plans.”

“Ah, it seems Chibi has caught me—” and damn, the punch sent his way would’ve caused a broken jaw had it landed. Dazai was now a reasonable distance away from the shorter; his eye widened slightly before relaxing into annoyance, “really, chibi?”

“You knew about the child for how long? And you didn’t bother to do anything?! What is wrong—” Dazai interrupted, making a loud buzzer sound.

“Kept your voice down, slug, and you’re wrong; I haven’t been aware of her existence for long. I’ve only heard small chatter about the child and her father, who isn’t even her father, mind you, mentioned her from time to time to subordinates of his.” Dazai quickly explained, noticing the anger that was beginning to radiate from the ginger’s body, “also, who do you think let her free from her imprisonment? Casper the Friendly Ghost?”

“You— you set her free?” Chuuya looked at him begrudgingly, unbelieving of his word. Dazai nodded his head sternly, not taking his eye off of the ginger.

“Yes, slug, and it was quite the work, too!” Complained the brunette, “having to distract her guard or babysitter— whatever the hell that subordinate was supposed to be— while also keeping myself invisible from any hidden cameras.”

“And the reason for that? I took you for a child disliker.” Challenged the ginger.

“Oh, I am, but I have more information revolving around her that would most definitely make you kill me if I kept quiet.” Smirked the beanpole.

“Really? Then spill it.” They stayed glaring at each other, Chuuya’s more intense than Dazai’s, until the brunette sighed and beckoned Chuuya to follow him.

In Dazai’s room, Chuuya sat on the bed while Dazai sat in a chair. The older motioned Dazai to speak, which earned him a raspberry.

“Dazai,”

“Jeez, whatever, anyway, it started as mere speculation on my part upon my first arrival to the hideout, and more conversation about the bullets arose— you know, them getting sold off to other “villain” groups, and all,” began the taller, “but then Overhaul, the dude with the beak—”

“Her father?”

“Her “father” started speaking to his subordinates about some experiments and how they were going. I thought a lot of it, and then they mentioned a little girl, and obviously, you can see where I’m going with this, right chibi?” Dazai felt bad mentioning the experimentation aspect, but Chuuya would figure it out one way or another, and that would’ve just made the ginger angrier at him. He didn’t feel bad because of some fucked up reason, but due to how his partner’s face formed into that of realization and regret.

“Oh…” was all he said; he looked away slightly, unsure what to say. Dazai could read Chuuya like the open book he was, and he felt regret. Deep, deep remorse because he had Eri in his presence, and he let her go with the equivalent of N. Any anger or rage he harbored at the brunette quickly dissipated before it came back, only this time, it pointed at the perpetrator for the girl’s suffering.

“Are you still going to help me get her?” Dazai smiled.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I? Like you said, I already had it in mind.”

“So, how are we doing this? And give me everything you have on the man.” Chuuya demanded, and Dazai would tease him, keeping any information from him, but the ginger wasn’t in a humorous mood.

“Well, I would suspect there’s more security guarding the girl, but because I know the layout well enough, I’ll be in charge of securing her.” Dazai grinned, poking Chuuya on the forehead before retreating since the ginger tried to swat his hand, “You, on the other hand, will be a brute like always, but don’t engage Overhaul in battle right away; he has the quirk to disassemble and reassemble matter with his hands. Funnily enough, I think it’s called Overhaul. Also, he’s a huge germaphobe and breaks out into hives.” Dazai blinked at the ginger’s expression, “What? You asked me for everything I have on the man, right?”

“Do you have his legal name?” The knowing glint in the brunette’s eyes told him everything.

“Kai Chisaki.”

.

.

.

“I don’t believe Overhaul mentioned you coming today, nor you bringing—” the man‘s words were interrupted by something piercing his throat. Gurgling and shouts of anger sounded through the room before everything went quiet.

The duo stood inside the hideout’s reception area in their usual mafia getup. The guards at the entrance, the receptionist, and also bystanders were now taken care of, a couple of bullets engraved inside of their bodies. Dazai was quickly texting Mori, and it seemed that whatever it was made Dazai chuckle a bit.

“What?” Asked Chuuya, who was checking the stash of bullets in his pocket; he didn’t have many, but that was okay; he didn’t quite enjoy just shooting someone— whether he had a gun or not.

“Nothing important; the boss is complaining about Elise throwing a tantrum and drawing him getting decapitated— anyway, he gave us the green light.” Dazai tucked his phone into his pants pocket, “he even congratulated us for getting rid of a potential threat so early on— can you believe it?” Chuuya nodded, noting the sarcasm in the younger’s tone, but he desperately wanted this over and the girl safe in his arms.

[“Do you think we’ll be able to complete this before the heroes arrive?” Asked the Chuuya of the past.

“Yes,” past Dazai smirked, the word leaving his tongue like tainted honey and the next like unadulterated poison, “what, chibi? You don’t believe in my plan? I’ll have you know~ it has an 85% success rate!”]

Chuuya never bothered to ask, “Why 85%?” If The Dazai Osamu was doing something, it was with cause. They gave each other one final nod, continuing with their plan. They were currently on the main floor, hence the reception area, and if they wanted to get to the girl, they’d have to go to the basement levels.

“The girl is on the second basement level; the first is the living quarters for the members of this organization.”

“And how did you pass by them?” Chuuya raised an eyebrow, a suspecting look in his eyes as he stuffed his hands in his pockets.

“What? You don’t believe in my ability to be slippery anymore, chibi?” he paused for a second, making his way over to some unfortunate member, who'd succumbed to their wounds and stuffed his hands inside their pockets in search of something, “and... People are naive no matter how respected or powerful they are, you know? Take you for example! One conveniently placed thing here, another there, then, wait for your guard to falter, and boom! You’ve been misled and pickpocketed!” He earned a mere eye-roll. Boring. A grin formed on Dazai’s face as he held up a key card, tossing it to Chuuya, who looked ready to curse out the brunette.

“Alright, alright. Shut it, will you? And stop throwing things! What if this got damaged? And if you already have one, what’s the reason for a new one?” Chuuya shoved his shoulder, going to the nearest stairwell entrance and scanning the newly acquired card.

“Because we’re splitting up, the risk of getting stuck lessens. I thought your slug brain would figure that out—are you going dumb again?” Dazai strolled over to him like some kid trying to catch up to their guardian. Chuuya scoffed loudly, wanting to get onto the younger, but due to circumstances, that would have to do.

“Such a brute you are.” Chuuya shot the bird at him.

“What about the cameras? You said you had to bypass cameras, right?” Dazai nodded and gave a cheeky smile despite the ginger remaining oblivious to said actions.

“Do not worry, chibikko! Remember my—”

“Subordinate-not-your-subordinate? Haven’t heard that name in a while.” scoffed the shorter.

“Yeah! I gave them a quick lesson on hacking cameras, so if they followed it to the T, the cameras should be on a loop.” Dazai's lips curled up ineffably, “Besides, even if they didn’t, what’s to stop us? The girl is too valuable for his plan—for whatever reason— so there’s no point in killing her. The only thing terrible would be the number of people coming at us.” they were walking down the stairs in silence now; it was a long, annoying walk, especially when time was crucial if they didn't want more damage added to the child, but other than that, it was relatively peaceful, even knowing the amount of bloodshed that may shed once they entered B1. The few guards to cross them knew something was fishy once they saw them. That was no surprise, so Chuuya quickly handled them with a few gravity-induced bullets.

They finally reached B1, and every member in the room looked busy with something, not noticing their arrival. Suddenly, someone looked up from their weapon and got up, looking ready to attack.

“Who are you two?! You’re not authorized to be down here!” Shouted the member, gaining everyone else’s attention.

“Really? Then how did we get down here?” Dazai challenged, tilting his head to convey innocence. The man didn’t seem keen on chatting; however, trying to lunge at them with his buddies behind him proved to be idiotic as Chuuya merely scoffed, and in a flash, they were all on the ground clutching their necks to stop blood from water falling everywhere. Some were a tad luckier and got hit in the head by the bullets.

“Boring… I should’ve devised a plan where we do set off the security…” Chuuya just looked at him as if he were crazy. How rude.

Abruptly, a deity granted his wish, the security system went off, and more guards and members entered the room, ready to attack.

“I’ll go to the girl; they’ll probably try to move her… you—”

“—be a brute, I know.” Dazai gave a cheeky smile, quickly sprinted over to the stairs, scanned “his” key card, and damn near threw himself down them. Chuuya would’ve laughed had the situation been anything but severe.

A grin delicately appeared as he stuck his hands into his pockets.

He had no more bullets.

Dazai raced down the stairs, not hearing the pursuit of a straggler Chuuya failed to eliminate; however, the sound of pained screams echoed despite how far away Dazai was from the scene.

After nearly tripping over himself, he finally reached the secured door. Luckily, he didn’t need to scan the key card because the door was closing, so Dazai used the full extent of his legs and slipped inside just as it closed.

All heads turned to him before they grew defensive. Anyone with battle-oriented quirks instantly went up front to defend while the more defenseless rushed to the secret escape routes. Dazai scanned the area; they appeared to be in the early evacuation stage, so the girl should still be in her cell, meaning he shouldn’t waste much time on these fools.

His hands curled around the gun in his pocket just as someone lunges forward and grabs ahold of him; however, the rush of adrenaline fades as their quirk fades in a blue light of Kanji. And most importantly, their life fades as a bullet snuggles its way into their head.

Watching mindlessly as the body dropped to the floor, the quick thinkers began to send long-distance attacks, but those went in vain as a blue light enveloped the attacks upon contact.

‘Perhaps they’re not that intelligent,’ Dazai thought as they continued to “attack” him foolishly, but then Dazai’s eye gleamed. ‘Perhaps they’re distracting me from someone else?’ Shooting a bullet quickly into each of their body parts, except for one in case some quick interrogation is needed, Dazai looked around the room in anticipation. The sound of guns cocking grabbed his attention, and as he turned around, facing him were ten people holding varying firearms. Dazai tutted softly, rushing to gain shelter, and effectively missed any bullets headed his way.

Hiding behind a knocked-over table, Dazai peeked his head out slowly, squinting his eye. If only he had his squad. Not that he relies on them. A shot or two fired, forcing him to hide away again.

Then— the sound of someone screaming came closer, a thud, now it was quiet—

. . .

Faint footsteps reached the door before decimating it completely, and in walked the slug, an annoyed look on his face before he caught grasp of the situation. Everyone aimed their guns at him, firing at altering times, but all the ginger did was grin. The bullets stopped at varying distances away from him but still too close for anyone’s comfort. Too bad he wasn’t an ordinary person. At the drop of a dime, the bullets shot back at their owners, impaling them in numerous spots. Sadly, the person Dazai was going to interrogate caught a stray in the crossfire.

“Get up, mackerel.” The ginger scowled, walking further into the basement, kicking away any body part in his way. Dazai listened, pouting his lips slightly.

“How much further until we get to the girl?”

“Not too far; she should be the only one heavily guarded. She should also be near the research lab if I recall.” Chuuya nodded, speed-walking away as he hit corners. After a bit of walking, the quirk research lab came into view, and it looked spotless, meaning they scrubbed everything clean at the intrusion.

His heart dropped as he hurried to the nearby cell. Eri wasn’t there. As Dazai caught up, Chuuya’s fist balled up, shaking with seeping rage.

“Are you sure this is where she‘s locked up??” Dazai peeked inside, his eye narrowing immensely.

“Yes… there are escape routes around the premises, so if we’re lucky, they could be at an upper level or outside already. Come. Let’s hurry.” Dazai instructed, walking away. Chuuya followed behind without much protest.

Chuuya will save Eri, even if he has to use the “slumbering” beast within him.

.

.

.

They checked every floor of the hideout and were now where they started: the reception area. As if fate were on their side, the sight of Overhaul’s subordinates standing in a line greeted them.

“We were waiting for you both— such a shame you turned out to be a traitor; a power like yours would’ve been crucial to have,” Rappa spoke, cracking his knuckles. Chuuya, however, was no longer in the mood. The girl was getting closer to forever being out of his safe arms, and these people were delaying him further.

His arms twitched as Arahabaki beckoned him to release it upon the ignorant, but he chose not to— what if he needs to be completely aware anytime soon? The sickening sounds of promises occupied his mind as he glared daggers at the three members. Kendo Rappa, Yu Hojo, and Toya Setsuno, according to Dazai.

Just as the three were about to attack, a loud booming sound echoed around them, and the trio were in the ground, groaning from the likely broken bones. The ground formed a crater around them, and Chuuya walked over it as if it were a mere inconvenience, not paying them or their pained groans any mind. Dazai followed suit, a smirk on his face.

As they exited outside, they saw Overhaul trying to make a getaway in a car, beckoning Eri inside, meaning it wasn’t long before they escaped. Overhaul made eye contact with them, and his gaze darkened into madness. Eri looked scared and backed away, trembling.

“And, if I may ask… what happened to my subordinates?”

“In the ground, pained, lots of broken bones, and set to die without proper treatment.” Overhaul looked calm despite the information.

“Are you guys perhaps turning a new leaf into heroes? Sickening. An illness that is worse than no other.” Overhaul sounded calm, but his face looked murderous. Chuuya stepped forward, gravity caving the ground into a miniature crater.

“No wonder you looked so familiar… Chuuya Nakahara. The “recent” addition to the Port Mafia. Unofficial partner to Dazai Osamu; however, most speculate it won’t be long until you both gain the title.” The man sounded almost fond as he spoke before he started cackling.

“Didn’t know you were such a fan.” Growled the ginger as his hand shook uncontrollably; he wanted to attack, but the risk of the child being so close was too much to risk.

“I’m not.” Five people emerged from behind him, all wearing varying plague masks. In the organization, they’re identified as (the rest of) the Eight Bullets. It's fitting, considering their recent project. Chronostasis stayed behind, keeping Eri from running off, and Mimic, the general manager of the Shie Hassaikai, prepared to attack, too.

Chuuya, tired of it all, tapped a nearby car and flung it at them. Chrono and Overhaul barely managed to miss it, Mimic getting hit by surprise before a pained sound came from the ginger. Chuuya, in his fury, hadn’t noticed the silencer-equipped gun in the hands of Chronostasis and was now shot in the shoulder. Dazai’s eye widened slightly, but he backed up, pitying them for the hell they'd just released.

“It’s quirk-nullifying—” his speech was cut short by a pole coming down onto him and a flash of red knocking him down like a bullet. Chronostasis’s eyes widened as he noticed it was the same kid he just shot.

“Wha—” Perhaps he thought it was a defect, but Chuuya just grinned, forcing his body into the ground before Overhaul, realizing how close he was, tried grabbing him to disassemble; however, Chuuya quickly lost all gravity and floated in the air.

“Your quirk only works if you use your hands, right? That’s what Shitty Dazai said, so I’ll assume it to be true—” Chuuya looked battle-hungry now— “meaning I just have to avoid your hands.” The other subordinates watched the unrelenting attacks against Overhaul, the man desperately reaching out to try and grab ahold of something, before they focused their attention on Dazai. They all charged at the brunette, long aware that powers won’t work on him. Dazai grinned, cocking his gun and grabbing another out of his pocket. He pointed them at specific places, waited for them to get closer, and shot. Two collapsed in agony, unmoving from being shot in the spine.

Three more left. Dazai side-stepped a brass knuckle and ducked from a high-aimed kick. A bored sigh left his mouth as he grabbed hold of a fist and twisted, a cry leaving the “victim’s” mouth before Dazai had to jump back from a fierce punch; however, a kick did make its way to his side, and he grunted slightly before steadying himself.

Effortlessly checking his bullet count, Dazai hummed with acknowledgment. ‘This should get the job done.’ He had nineteen bullets in one gun and three in another.

The punching and dodging went on for some time, Dazai even tripping a person over with a leg sweep before he had to jump out of the way from a fire hydrant getting thrown at him. Then, if one decided to pull out a weapon, Dazai shot their shoulder, forcing them to drop it.

Shots went off as collective bullets went into neutrally life-threatening places such as the large or small intestines, even the stomach. They were all on the ground in pain. Some tried to get up, but their stomach cramping from the pain stopped them, and if they managed, Dazai swiftly kicked them.

Dazai decided to shoot them all a collective number of times to make sure they didn’t be a bother without actually killing them.

As the brunette stared blankly, there seemed to be a stalemate as Chronostasis was unconscious, and Mimic tried to make a return, but there was now a crater shaped like him. Now, Overhaul somehow distanced himself from the ginger. There was rage seeping from his face, the mannerisms he had before thrown out the window as he tried to wipe at his skin, uttering something about germs as hives appeared.

Dazai jumped out of the way as the man unexpectedly lunged toward him, but quickly, the brunette stopped in his tracks to find the man absorbing two of his subordinates.

It was the one time in the brunette’s life he felt sick.

If Dazai or Chuuya lived your typical life, they would’ve been horrified at the new creature that formed, but after defeating Guivre, this was a mere Saturday night. The man combined himself with Shin Nemoto, one of the people Dazai shot in the spine, and Rikiya Katsukame, another who got a round in the small intestines. Kai contorted into something wicked and, annoyingly, something the duo knew their mere willpower alone wouldn’t be able to defeat. Chuuya looked at Dazai; Dazai looked at Chuuya. Chuuya nodded in the direction under the car, and Dazai understood. Instantly, as a hand was about to crush him, Dazai rushed to the car and dropped to his knees. Eri curled under it, her head hidden in her arms as she trembled with fear.

“…why…?” She muttered over repeatedly like a mantra that would make someone omniscient.

“Because you’re a lovely soul that doesn’t deserve to go through this.” Her mouth opened loosely, and her eyes widened as she stared at the brunette, who could only offer her a smile throughout this mess of a breakout, “I may not like kids all that much, but I’d be an idiot to see a young girl suffering and let it go on.” Dazai held his hand out slowly, waiting for the girl to take the initiative. Despite the scene in the background, Chuuya making futile attacks at Overhaul’s monstrous form, Dazai kept calm. The kid wouldn’t react well to a panicking “savior,” not that he’d call himself that.

The girl stared at his hand in fear, her eyes grazing over every imperfection to grace it before landing on the bandages, “are you like me?” Dazai raised an eyebrow at the question. The sound of a car being thrown forced the girl to wince slightly.

“What do you mean by that?”

“The bandages…”

“Oh, no, these are from something… else, but you’ve seen my ginger friend, yeah? I fear you’d have a lot more in common with him.” Her eyes widened as she peeked out from the car slightly to see Overhaul knock Chuuya into a tree. Tainted glowed around the beast, but it kept fighting against the forceful pull of gravity inflicted on it, eliciting groans from Kai.

“Let’s get you somewhere safe, yeah? He can’t defeat him if you’re too close.”

“What about you…? I don’t want you to die because of me! Just leave me be…” the girl curled up within herself, tears pricking the corner of her eyes.

“No can do. Please? We don’t want you dead, and we really don’t want to end up on the news.” Dazai held his hands out firmer. The girl stared at them before nodding, allowing Dazai to drag her from under the car.

“CHUUYA!” The short male looked down, blood rushing down his forehead, and his wrist seemed hopefully sprained— if not broken. Chuuya’s lips curled from ear to ear as Dazai ran a decent distance away, the child tucked neatly and firmly into his arms, her head buried in his chest from any possible stray debris.

“Oh, grantors of dark disgrace—” Dazai had gotten too far to hear the rest, but the misbalance of intense gravity circulating only one person said enough. After finding shelter from the destruction incarnate’s rampage, Dazai stared at the scene.

Arahabaki-Chuuya, now missing the beloved bowler hat of the ginger’s and gloves removed with red engravings crawling along his skin as if they’re alive, floated in front of the beastly form Overhaul willingly took on and cackled, happy to take on the challenge. In two outstretched hands, two blackholes formed in his palms, and he instantly launched them before zooming off to forcefully penetrate inside of Overhaul, exiting from the other side of him.

“GAH!” Overhaul screeched before quickly repairing the damage. Arahabaki-Chuuya cackled even more, continuing the relentless attacks, dodging Overhaul’s numerous fists, and counterattacking with more blackholes. Dazai looked around a tad anxiously; they were outside, and loads of commotion triggered as the buildings got destroyed, or worse, lifted and thrown— courtesy of Arahabaki-Chuuya— if there were people inside, Dazai could only apologize.

Whatever quirks the two subordinates had seemed to add to his resistance, too.

Cackles of maniacal joy filled the air as Arahabaki-Chuuya’s blackhole took a good portion of Overhaul away before the man merely reformed it, swinging one of his multiple arms at the unofficial-official god.

Arahabaki-Chuuya dodged, zooming in to deliver a nasty punch to Overhaul’s face, only to have a hand interfere, decimating it.

The battle went on for some time before Dazai caught wind of Chuuya’s body condition; it started to break under the pressure of gravity while also being held together by said force, but even then, the brute didn’t slow down his attacks, repeatedly attacking the lead of Shie Hassakai. All the surrounding area was gone due to the blackholes, and by some miracle, Kai’s subordinates were too unconscious to be a threat.

“Y-your friend!” Eri cried out, noticing his condition, too. Dazai’s eye narrowed; he couldn’t get Arahabaki-Chuuya to retreat into safety just yet since Overhaul would still be a threat, “…I can help…” Dazai’s eye widened, and his mouth hung loosely. He was not expecting a 0.0001% chance of something to happen. The sound of Arahabaki-Chuuya’s demented laughter and Kai’s shouts filled the background.

“That’s insane; you’ll end up dying.”

“Probably… but you guys went out of your way to save me, and…” the girl began trembling, her voice meek as ever, hard to hear due to all the noise. A loud crashing sound boomed, snapping their attention to it. Arahabaki-Chuuya got knocked into a building; it crumbled on top of him before he shot back up into the sky like a bullet. Dazai thought about the offer. This commotion would force the heroes to arrive sooner than he would like, but even then, he declined.

More punches were directed in Overhaul’s way, overwhelming him before his beast crumbled, the ground getting destroyed even more. Overhaul looked even more pissed in the mouth of it, grunts leaving his mouth as he willed his temporary body to attack some more; however, Arahabaki-Chuuya wasn’t having any of it and formed one massive blackhole in its hands to finish it off— that seemed to be a thing the singularity liked to do. Attack like a brute and finish them off swiftly by erasing them from existence, but Dazai didn’t want to man gone from existence; that’ll lead to more unnecessary investigations from the city’s authority, even if it was the likable option. Dazai rushed out from the hiding spot, Eri staring at him in disbelief, especially as he instructed her to stay put. Arahabaki-Chuuya noticed him, stopping the blackhole from forming before falling swiftly to the ground. Just like he did after ending Guivre.

Dazai swiftly caught him in his arms, the power of No Longer Human stopping the raging destruction from festering into self-destruction as a light blue enveloped them. A sigh left the younger’s mouth while the older groaned. Numerous of his joints were out of place, and he definitely had broken bones.

A cackle was heard from above, breaking them out of their temporary trance as Overhaul looked more manic. Suddenly, he felt a tug, and Dazai felt his heart jump as he looked down. Eri was standing next to them, her hand clutching his coat. She had a determined look on her face, surprisingly. A swipe of an enlarged hand was sent their way, forcing Dazai to yank the girl and himself back. Chuuya groaned some more.

“Eri—”

“Please… let me help… you both…” Eri motioned her hands to Chuuya timidly, unsure if this was what she should be doing. Dazai nodded, putting the ginger down gently just as an enlarged hand swiped at him, forcing him to jump out of the way. Dazai watched warily before a miracle solution happened, and Chuuya reverted to how he was before the use of Corruption.

The ginger opened his eyes fully, any form of severe pain in them wiped clean. Chuuya stared at the girl, mouth agape, to notice that her once enlarged horn had shrunk slightly. His wrist was still in need of an inspection, and his forehead was leaking blood, but nothing too severe.

Chuuya looked at Dazai; Dazai looked at Chuuya. A hidden message spoke between them.

Chuuya grabbed ahold of the girl, moving out of the way as hands slammed down at them. The girl held onto him tightly, afraid to let go. They were now in the sky.

“You can revert things, yes?” The question was gentle. Of honest curiosity without any underlying motives, “Do you think you can revert big guy to normal?” Eri shook; she hadn’t tried anything as daring as that against Kai, not like she ever had to, but such was a thought she would get disassembled repeatedly over twenty times for even suggesting it.

Eri peaked up at the older’s face. His face was young— he couldn’t be older than a teenager— but his eyes held experience that no other his age should have. Is this what the brunette was talking about? Chuuya, she remembered his name to be, offered her a supportive smile; it flashed a canine or two and looked overall awkward but welcoming. Accepting, and if she looked at it from a healthier mindset, loving like an older brother’s or father's.

Eri looked down at the ground. Dazai was dodging and shooting at Overhaul as a distraction. His legwork was elegant as he dodged pebbles and other debris projectile his way. Intermittently, a rock would hit him in the stomach or arm, but he just continued as if it were a mere inconvenience. Overhaul tried grabbing at him, but the brunette dashed away or purposefully tripped out of the way.

‘They’re risking it all for me… I—I can do this!’ Eri looked at Chuuya, a look in her eyes that’s been missing for however long she can remember. It was hope. Chuuya grinned, holding onto the girl tightly.

“Try not to lean away too much, but don’t worry, if you fall, I’ll catch you.” Eri nodded before getting forced back as the ginger dashed forward, the wind hitting her face rapidly. She looked up to Chuuya; he seemed used to the treatment. Perhaps it’s due to his quirk?

Once they were close enough, Chuuya held the girl out far enough, and she jumped from his arms using an instinct she didn’t know existed. Once she was close enough, her horn activated, and Kai looked shocked. The man was about to start screaming something at her until he was removed from his subordinates and on the ground as if he didn’t have some final boss transformation.

“Eri—” he glared at the now falling girl threateningly.

“Hush.” Dazai knocked him upside the head with a pistol whip, watching with satisfaction as the man fell to the ground unconscious. Chuuya quickly dashed to catch the girl and floated them down to the ground gently; she was still trembling and looked regretful of what she did, but there was a look in her eyes that said she’d overcome it. Her horn was still a decent size despite the massive load it took, and Eri looked panicked as her power started to get out of control slightly; Dazai's eye widened as Chuuya— due to touching her— and Kai— due to being in the vicinity— bodies started rewinding, freaking Chuuya out as he noticed new scars, wounds, bruises, etc., disappearing at a rapid rate. Dazai quickly rushed toward them and tapped the girl on her head. A blue light emitted, and her horn disappeared, shocking her immensely.

“You—” then she fainted. Everything around them was in ruin, and the blackholes created a clearing that would make it impossible for anyone to not see what occurred.

“So, chibikko—”

“Leave it. Let’s leave before news stations arrive, or worse, heroes arrive.” Chuuya began walking away, clutching the little girl in his arms tightly away from the destruction caused by Arahabaki-Chuuya and Kai Chisaki. Dazai walked at a slow pace, discreetly letting Chuuya get a fat distance in front of him before he stopped.

Dazai occupied himself by going to grab Chuuya’s hat and gloves, which didn’t get blown too far away. The distant sound of footsteps was like music to his ears.

“You guys arrived awfully late. All the fun is over, you know?” Dazai looked over his shoulder to find Shigaraki and his crew coming from the shadows, eyes wide, and was that fear he saw? Intrigue even mixed into it, perhaps?

“Wha—”

“I don’t feel like chatting. Kai is over there if you wish to enact your revenge for Magne. Thank me later.” Shigaraki looked over at the unconscious body of Kai, his mask still snuggly on his face and a bruise forming on his head. Toga looked over at Dazai again to find the teen was gone.

“So, what should we do?”

.

.

.

It had been ten minutes since they left the area. Some news stations caught wind of what happened and even had recordings, so Dazai spent a decent time hacking into their database to delete them. The heroes arrived at the scene precisely three minutes too late and, according to the conversations floating around, are confused as to what happened. Dazai could only speculate why they didn’t live-record it, but the universe tends to be on his side sporadically.

Dazai’s outfit was torn and in need of repair or being trashed all together; it was bloody, but due to the dark colors, hard to see.

Sighing as he finally deleted the 30th and last prerecorded video, Dazai turned to face Chuuya with amusement. They were hiding away in a hotel that bordered on expensive but was certainly not cheap. It came with its own computer, too, along with other electronics that Dazai didn’t care for. Sadly, the computer was linked to the hotel, so you couldn’t do much without jailbreaking it, which he did. Eri rested peacefully on the bed closest to the window. Her fever went down an adequate amount, so she was no longer whining in her sleep.

The faint sound of the the TV playing as reporters went over recent events filled the noise. A smirk graced Dazai’s slightly cut lip as the reporters looked shocked to find their footage deleted. They appeared to me newer to the team, so they’d be let off for it, hopefully.

The sound of a couple of heroes speaking— Sir Nighteye and Rocklock, it seems— looked devastated at the find; however, they didn’t reveal why. Midoriya could be seen in the background looking defeated and panicked, and far in the distance, you can find Overhaul and his crew being taken away. Only thing different? Overhaul no longer had any arms and looked utterly defeated as he was loaded away. So that’s the route they took? Respectable.

“Chuuya, is there something you’d like to share with the class?” Chuuya merely stared at him; his face was softer than five days ago, which was nice visually. Due to Eri’s quirk malfunction, his wrist healed, and his head was no longer bleeding. His clothes weren’t any better; they were bloody and torn at the seams. Seems the kid can’t rewind clothes, only people. His hat was in need of a clean but was placed neatly on his fiery hair— that gained more length than when they were 15— and his gloves laid resting on a drawer.

[Chuuya looked at Dazai; Dazai looked at Chuuya. Chuuya nodded in the direction under the car, and Dazai understood. In hindsight, Dazai could efficiently nullify Overhaul’s quirk; it’s still a quirk, after all, no matter how intimidating, but Chuuya’s eyes pleaded with him to wait, and Dazai understood. The fiery teen wanted Eri to have the last laugh— to get back at her abuser and show him how strong she was to do so.

There were numerous people during the Assassin King’s reign that Chuuya couldn’t get back at, like N, due to Chuuya attacking Verlaine when they were supposed to kill N. Then N got squished by Guivre, probably cackling like the maniac he was.

But to do that, they needed to work her up to it. Dazai isn’t good with giving genuine encouragement, but his tongue is as slippery as a snake, so while Chuuya fends off Overhaul, he can make however much progress to the girl’s self-esteem.]

“It worked, didn’t it?” The silent conversations hosted between them will always be something that just clicks, and they truly don’t want it any other way.

“Yeah, but what if it didn’t? Overhaul would’ve been dead, you would’ve needed intense medical treatment, and Eri wouldn’t know what to do.”

“Awe, are you worried? You?” Dazai narrowed his eye, a childish sigh leaving his mouth as he muttered a “nu-uh.” Chuuya just laughed like a huge weight was lifted from him, and one was, “Besides, wouldn’t it be great if he did die?” Dazai thought about the question for a bit; he’ll keep his answer the same this time around.

“In hindsight, yes, but if this somehow got out, and the heroes linked his death to us, especially when we’re not even close to figuring out the traitor of U.A., then more issues would arise. Don’t you think?” Chuuya nodded his head at that, eyes widening in acknowledgment before relaxing.

“Did you report back to Mori?”

“Not yet; I don’t like reporting back to him immediately. He’d probably think I like him or something.” Chuuya chuckled at that as silence took hold. Their eyes wandered to the sleeping form of the child. What are they to do with her now?

Eri’s quirk malfunction unfortunately didn’t go back enough, and the ginger had a bandage wrapped around his left shoulder from when Chrono shot it with a quirk-nullifying bullet. The duo nearly forgotten about it before Chuuya rested completely, knowing the girl was safe, and adrenaline left his body, which was around 3 in the morning.

[“Well, chibi, it wouldn’t hurt like this had you not forgotten about it.” Dazai once teased as he was helping bandage the wound; Chuuya did the cleaning fearing the brunette would purposefully use more alcohol than needed.

“Yeah, yeah,” Chuuya groaned, feeling tired and weak from the events of yesterday, yes, yesterday. It was now a new day or night since it was pitch-black outside and the only sound to be heard were the nighttime critters and nocturnal humans.]

Despite the casual tones they’ve taken on, there was the dilemma of what to do now. When they left the school grounds, it was under the assumption that their family would be visiting from Yokohama, and it wouldn’t be fair to not meet them, especially considering the “hefty” process of exiting the bordered city (the process isn’t actually hefty; you just need the correct documents when booking a ticket, and well, a ticket).

In order to sell the act, they even showed a couple of photos of Kouyou, Hirotsu and Kyuusaku, even having them send short voice messages. Now, not only do they have a child, but unexplainable injuries such as Chuuya’s bullet wound and the bruises and cuts littering the visible part of Dazai’s body.

They only had today to come up with something before their inevitable return tomorrow.

“We can play it off as she came to us for help after we waved off our family.”

“And our injuries? Clothes?”

“We have cards, and to avoid curious cats, we’ll go to the sketchy shops with confusingly good clothes. You know, like those wine shops you go to, but clo—”

“Yeah, yeah, I already got it!” The duo stared at each other for some time until Dazai broke it off at the sudden movement coming from the girl.

She looked delirious, her eyes unfocused and would probably go in different directions had she been birthed with weak eye muscles. Her breathing was shallow before it increased, but oddly enough, she didn’t try moving from her predicament. Like her will to get out of danger had been burned from the root itself.

“Hey, now, it’s alright. You’re with us—Eri, right?” Chuuya began comforting her. The girl calmed, remembering all thar transpired. Her eyes drooped slightly, and she was about to say something else before her mind gave up and hit the snooze button again.

“Should we get her some clothes, too?”

“After our story is secure. Come on now, chibikko!”

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.

.

After finding the best casual clothes a shady shop owned by someone your parents warn you to stay away from on a regular basis, the duo was now walking along the sidewalk, child on Chuuya's back before some hero noticed them and rushed over to them, concern drawn over their face like a child had taken a permanent marker to it. Any injuries were cleaned and properly patched, so the only look of concern they’ve been given were in regard to Dazai’s excessive bandages.

“Are you all okay?” The hero asked; it was some no-name that debuted years ago, according to hero media, so it took some time for Dazai to put the face to a name, but even then, he wasn’t sure.

“Yes, uh,”

“Oh, my name is—” ‘don’t care…’— “but is she okay?” she leaned down to inspect the child, her hair swaying in the way, urging Dazai to take a pair of scissors to it.

“We suspect she has a fever,”

“You suspect? Are you guy’s related?”

“No, miss, she came out of an alleyway yesterday looking delirious.”

“Oh, and what were you kids doing? Aren’t you supposed to be in school?”

“Yes, we go to UA, and we’re given permission to go on a small break due to majority of our class being busy, leaving us with nothing to do. Our family visited us a couple days ago, and just left.” The heron nodded her head, looking at them suspiciously before a voice called out to them.

“Chuuya, Dazai?” Chuuya prayed to whoever it was that spoke before he made eye contact with them, and the urge to start singing random church choir songs increased. Aizawa, who was more than likely patrolling in case the girl showed up, looked exhausted. His eyes had deep bags under them, and his eyes were in need of a three-lifetime vacation.

“Hi, Mr. Aizawa-Sensei~!” A smile coiled on Dazai lips; his eye gleaming with “joy,” “We just finished visiting our family!” Aizawa gave a nod, his eyes landing on the sleeping form on Chuuya's back. It took a while, but it seemed to register in his mind, and they got to see as it did. Aizawa’s eyes widened, and his mouth fell open slightly. The air felt rigid, like its flowing nature turned into an icy glacier.

“Where did you find this girl?”

“She came out of an alleyway yesterday and passed out. It was late at night, so we decided to take her to the hospital today.” Aizawa nodded, stalking closer to the girl. He raised his left hand, halting it, unsure of whether he should take her. Chuuya tilted his back slightly, signaling that it’s okay to take the weight off his back. Bobbing his head, Aizawa placed his hands under the girl's armpits and lifted her, quickly, he used his right arm to grab ahold of the girl's legs and put her into a bridal carry.

Aizawa stared at his recent addition of problem children, nodding his head. The duo immediately appeared behind him, following their long-haired teacher as he walked in the direction of the hospital. No one appeared injured. Aizawa was happy that the girl’s well-being wasn’t in critical danger.

“Do you know who this girl is, Aizawa-Sensei?” Dazai’s eyes were wide and innocent, his head tilted slightly as his brows furrowed slightly. The teacher looked at the boy, his lips in a thin line and his brows furrowed enough to create harsh wrinkles. Once they were far away from the lesser-known hero, he finally opened his mouth and relieved his brows.

“Considering your jobs, it’s fine if I say,” the adult decided, adjusting the girl in his arms once she started moving, “If we’re lucky, it’s the girl we were supposed to be saving yesterday. I don’t suppose you know something else, right?” This was why Aizawa had to be dazai’s favorite teacher—not that he remembers any of his past ones— the knowledge that the man wasn’t stupid and could figure things out himself without having someone holding his hand made dazai respect him immensely. A courageous teacher that cares for their students and was smart; it was hard to come by in today’s world, especially outside of Yokohama from what Dazai could observe.

“We may not have told the full truth.” The sentence was spoken lightly, easy to miss despite the lack of a windy day. This would've been a horrendous idea to tell anyone else, but Aizawa may understand, or he’ll have Nezu scold them. If it came to that, Dazai can pull the “we did it to save your ___ from severe injuries" card. It never failed him once whenever he and Chuuya did something Mori or Kouyou disliked, and it worked 99% of the time.

“You both can tell me later from prying ears.” The conversation ended there. Once the group reached the hospital, Aizawa immediately called out to the heroes stationed nearby. Their eyes went wide as they rushed toward the underground hero.

“Is that—?”

“High chance, but even if not, she has a severe fever.” The heroes nodded their head, spotting the two teenagers standing next to the adult. One clocked their eyebrow, “are they also in need of care?” Aizawa thought about it for some time. The question was simple and should be easy to answer, but if what he thinks happened, happened, then it would be smart to get them checked out. He just hoped they didn’t have any injuries that’ll be hard to explain.

“No, sir, we’re the ones who found her.” Chuuya bowed his head slightly. “Ah, alright.”

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.

A few hours passed since Eri was registered Hosu General Hospital and taken for a quick examination. Other’s who joined in on the shortly cut rescue mission arrived, eyes wide and shimmering with hope. Midoriya arrived with Mirio, both of their eyes widening to see the Brunette and Ginger in the waiting area. Chuuya panicked slightly; if he were to say one wrong thing, then the story they gave everyone else would be poppycock since it relied in not knowing the girl at all.

“What are they—” the door opened, gaining everyone’s attention and Chuuya felt a sigh of relief bubble up in his throat.

“Is everything alright?” Aizawa, Midoriya, and Mirio stood up to talk with the doctor overseeing Eri’s temporary care.

“Yes, all is well. She has a high fever, but rest—” the rest of the words blurred together in Chuuya's mind. It’s not like he didn’t like hospitals, but the people in them reminded him of the scientists from N’s lab. Everything regarding medical equipment such as tubes—no matter what they’re for— reminded him of long forgotten, blurred days that still haunt his being in the form of anything but dreams.

Chuuya blinked the memories of when gentle bluish black enveloped his body—was all he knew his body to be—to the back of his mind, deeply in one of its crevices.

Unknowingly, Aizawa and Dazai were staring at him. One with concern in their tired, reddish eyes, and the other’s expression blank like the page of an unmotivated author.

“Does he always get like this in hospital settings?” Aizawa whispered. The ginger was staring off into a time that no longer plagued him. A time where everything was simple, and the outside world left him with dying interest.

Dazai hadn’t answered. Not because he didn’t know the answer, but merely so the adult wouldn’t ask further questions.

“How much longer do we need to stay here?” Was the following question the ginger asked. It was filled with annoyance but also hesitation. The longer he stayed in such a place, the more Arahabaki became restless at its own memories from inside a test tube, but what if Eri’s situation is more dire than a mere fever? Even though the doctor said she was all well, you never know how bitchy life can be until it fucks you over. He’s had numerous first-hand experiences, after all.

“Not long. We’re waiting for her to awaken,” Mirio answered, lips stretched to any and all ends of the universe. Chuuya nodded his head, lowering it to stare at the floor, and not glare daggers at every white coat person to pass by.

“I suspect you don’t like hospitals much?” Mirio whispered to him. The blond was sat in his right with Midoriya, Aizawa and Dazai on his left in that exact order.

“No, not really.” Mirio, for a second, wanted to ginger to continue, but upon seeing it was a sensitive topic, he didn’t push.

“Amajiki-kun doesn’t like hospitals either—well, he doesn’t like any place where he has people’s attention, I suppose.” It was meant to be comforting. A fear of hospitals wasn’t uncommon; they are the places life-threatening illnesses are diagnosed at, but the attempt to alleviate the ginger’s nerves seemed to fail as it made Chuuya scoot slightly in his chair.

“Uh-huh,” Silence seems to be the noise of the year this time around. Nobody spoke. The only sound was the beeping from nearby rooms, coughing, sneezing, the faraway wails as people were given bad news, or the faraway cheers that singed gayly to anyone willing to bask in it.

The door opened once more, and the doctor had a grin in their face, “she’s awake and any signs of head trauma is nonexistent. You can discharge her whenever anytime soon.” Collective sighs escaped into the wind. Aizawa thanked the man, following him as he explained to the underground hero whatever needs to be done to ensure the fever stays a fever, along with followup checks. Chuuya and Mirio were the first ones in the room to find Eri sitting up in bed still lightheaded. Her face was as dead as ever, and her body language was uncomfortable. Perhaps she, too, didn’t like hospitals. Wouldn’t be a surprise.

Once she caught sight of the ginger and blond together, her eyes widened slightly as if she finally recognized Chuuya. Quite odd to not recognized her savior despite meeting him in the alleyway, but everything seemed like a dream, and she barely focused on why he looked familiar.

“Remember us? If not, I’m Mirio and he’s Chuuya. You ran into us in the alleyway. I didn’t arrive until later, but Midoriya and him were the ones to first meet you.” Mirio introduced, a gentle smile on his face. The child hadn’t payed him no mind, keeping her dullish eyes on Chuuya, who winced at the expression. Dull eyes make everyone look like fish; it’s unsettling.

“You’re safe now, and you’re in a hospital due to your fever,” the girl barely reacted at the new voice, directing her eyes to the whit sheets covering her. She was in a proper hospital gown now, and luckily, her bandages were still covering her “illness.” Midoriya’s heart clenched. No child should be like this.

“I’m sorry…” It took a while for the words to register, but it left the group confused.

“Hah? There’s no need to be sorry. You’re not in trouble.”

“…” It went silent again. Dazai stared unsure of what to do, so he snuck back out the room, deciding to leave it to the kid experts.

Outside, Aizawa was walking back with instructions to follow. His face was relaxed, and any sign of stress dissipated, “Ah, Dazai, don’t you think now is the time to explain to me how you found her?” Perhaps dazai should’ve stayed inside the room, but oh, well.

.

.

.

Aizawa’s face was unreadable to an untrained eye, but Dazai could see any emotion inside of him swelling up like a witch's brew, forming them all into an incoherent batch that will be prayed to work.

“So, you and Chuuya broke into their base and defeated Overhaul all because Chuuya was upset about leaving her…?” Dazai nodded. What? There was no reason to tell him all the unimportant things like him working with the maniac for some time, or corruption, “do you know what happened to the footage the news station acquired then?”

“Hacked their database and deleted it. Would be too risky to have it out there.” Aizawa had to give it to the kid, he was smart to think of that, but right now he had to be a mentor and most mentors wouldn’t praise their students—real or fake—for putting themselves in unnecessary danger without proper backup, but at the same time, they’re bodyguards, so unnecessary danger is in the job title. They were currently in an employee-only bathroom (with permission), so the risk of a Curious George was unlikely.

“So, there was no family at all?”

“Nope! They do exist, but they have better things to do,” the Brunette lifted his shoulders, slouching them again.

“Was there a reason I couldn't have been informed of this properly? Or anyone else like Nezu?”

“Your reactions had to be real. Anyone worth their salt will be able to tell when something is off, but genuine reactions to something unexpected? No one can wrong you if it all came out.” Though they may try.

Aizawa rubbed his hand down his face, looking away from the younger. There was a sense of pride to know someone you’re in charge of watching is smarter than they act; it’s something that makes him proud, especially when he sees it in someone like Bakugo.

“So, what are we doing with Eri-chan?” Dazai clocked his head.

“Does she have any parents?”

“I assume they’re dead. Kai referred to himself as her father, but I highly doubt he helped create her, so either dead, she was kidnapped, or they abandoned her. My money is on the first one though."

“And we can’t give her to an orphanage; the system can be cruel, especially to someone without a power or with a power they can’t control.” Aizawa then suggested that he could be her guardian, but the suggestion made something inside of Dazai want to curl up and die. Or live a long healthy life since dying isn’t that much of an issue to him, but he didn’t understand why. He had no qualms about the child, and he’d be leaving her in capable hands, but that still didn’t stop the answer that left his mouth, “no, it’s fine. Me and my dog can keep her safe for the time being.” Aizawa couldn't believe he agreed to it, but it seemed like the logical option. Eri wasn’t saved by him or the rescue team, but by to Yokohamans that had no instructions to get involved with her situation. It was merely a matter of who’d she trusts more.

However, there was also something within Aizawa that made him uneasy. He was talking to a child as if he was some business partner from oversees about some new project being launched. Was this truly the conversation to have with a child, and it puts him in another dilemma he tries to forcefully lock away, yet it’s a master at all lock picking. These were kids. Teenagers who, despite how they act, put their lives on the line for a child, and are still doing so due to their occupation. A bitter-sour taste murdered the teacher’s taste buds. Kids shouldn’t have to protect or save other kids. They should just be kids, but it seemed like he was the only one who thought this way—apart from Rock Lock, but he isn’t here right now—no kids should be bodyguard, but the more he spent with them, the more his mind seemed to come to terms with it without his permission. Or did his brain choose to forget? Likely since they haven’t done anything as bizarre as this yet, but it was still something that crushed Aizawa’s soul. He didn’t like it when his kids were involved in dangerous matter; they have years until they graduate, after all, so why was it fine for them to participate? They have families that care for them, and if something were to happen—well, let's just say Aizawa’s already heard enough pained noises that sound like nothing leave parents mouth for a lifetime already.

Mirio sat on the chair next to Eri, a supportive smile flashing on his face as if the sound of angels would start singing holy verses behind him with a white light enveloping him. The girl was fiddling with the sheet, willing herself to avoid eye contact at any cost. Chuuya leaned on the wall, his eyes soft and breathing even; Midoriya was standing awkwardly next to the bed, unsure of what he should do.

Talking to the child proved difficult, and the events of rescuing her proving to be enervating, so trying to ameliorate the girl’s inner turmoil proved draining.

Misery was etched into the crevices of Eric’s face; into the crevices of her soul, and a mere prep talk wouldn’t suffice the loneliness or trepidation she fell victim to the moment Kai was given guardianship.

“Eri–” the girl flinched slightly at the sound of Chuuya’s voice, trying to cover herself up some more with the poor hospital sheets— well, not as poor as the ones in Mori’s underground clinic, according to Dazai. Chuuya never verified for himself— “we understand that this isn’t an easy situation, and that there’s no way for it to be easy since it’ll always haunt you no matter what, but it can be kinder, not in nature, but in how it treats your soul.” Chuuya would know. Everyday he lives reminds him of the seven years of his life lost to the void due to being a lab experiment for scientists to poke and probe at for shits and giggles, and it doesn’t get easier with time, or at least it was with the flags then Verlaine came along, and while that situation put his mind at ease, even with the code within his body being wiped cleaned due to the use of corruption, leaving them with no real way of knowing anything, it still haunts him and added onto his despair that he learned to treat like any other critical wound: bandage it up and treat with profound care until it heals; it’ll still be there in the form of a scar, but at least it’s not agitating and is much kinder to the body.

The girl lowered the sheets slightly, intense crimson eyes stared cautiously, carefully, at him, unsure of how to proceed.

Her big red eyes turned to the upcoming heroes in the room and seems to plead with them about something before she forcefully redirected her eyes in fear that she did something wrong.

“Do you wish for us to leave?” Mirio asked, standing from his chair. Midoriya jolted slightly, not wanting to leave the girl’s side, but also not wanting to make her uncomfortable of feel as if she did something wrong or punishable.

Eri nodded unsure, but they still took it as the “yes” it was and left the room, smiling gently at her while leaving.

The door closed, and Chuuya shifted slightly.

“Your friend—”

“Dazai.”

“—Dazai told me I’d have more in common with you than him… back when I noticed his bandages, I mean…” her voice dropped an octave like she was in a rave filled with loud partygoers, and it took a while for Chuuya to register in his mind.

Stiffening, Chuuya hadn’t a clue how to explain to the child his life story if asked, and he didn’t know if he wanted to. Having something similar to someone doesn’t make him keen on sharing.

“YOU don’t have to tell me–” Eri winced at the way her voice heightened at the beginning, not wanting to appear rude or prying to her savior, but she was curious to know what the brunette meant by that; he didn’t seem similar to her, but looks are easier to judge than the actual person.

Chuuya sat on the chair Mirio left, tapping his foot repetitively as he thought over his actions.

“Well, he wasn’t lying,” mumbled the ginger. Eri widened her eyes, her jaw unhinged slightly.

“…you were also experimented on…?” The question was gentle, and left room to back out of, but it was also unsure if it should be spoken, created in this treacherous existence if even for a minute of time.

Chuuya nodded his head solemnly, not wanting to speak on the matter but also wanting the girl to know that she’s not alone and could speak with him if the memories get too hard to bear.

Time skipped a tick once the confirmation was set in stone before resuming like it always does, uncaring and unforgiving. It’s the reason you can’t hate it because it damns equally.

The room was back to its rigid nature, it just a tad softer, while the two sat in each other’s presence. Eri opened her mouth, closing it, repeatedly as if there was a question engraved on her tongue, but unwilling to break free from the shackles. Chuuya indulged, waiting for the girl to gain the confidence to ask or let wither away similar to a decaying corpse.

Minutes passed and the clock ticked some more.

Tick…tick…tick….

Nobody said anything and it appears that Eri gave up on the question. Chuuya gently gazed at her, relaxing some more in the chair in the same way a dog would when relaxing.

The door creaked open, Aizawa and the doctor entered, carrying the documents relating to her care, along with a bag more than likely filled with Eri’s admission clothes that, while similar to a hospital gown, provided more coverage than a hospital gown.

The doctor immediately went to unhook the heart monitor from her, since the threat of the fever taking a more, unexpected, drastic turn was over with.

Quietly, Eri got down from the bed and nimbly walked to the accommodated bathroom, gratefully grabbing her clothes from Aizawa.

Once the door closed, Aizawa turned to face Chuuya, and the doctor left the room, not wanting to intrude on the conversation.

“Dazai told me everything,” Chuuya nodded, understanding if they were to get in trouble because, despite saving a girl from abuse and certain death once she outlived her purpose, their rules did say that they’re only permitted to involve themselves if the adults were struggling, but rules like that were easily breakable, especially with Dazai involved because the teenager will find a loophole, even if the rule is loophole-less. But there shouldn’t be too much commotion regarding it since their positions still weren’t foiled.

“I bet he did,” but truthfully, Chuuya didn’t know what was more surprising: the bastard being truthful, or the bastard being truthful. It’s honestly the shock of the century, “Will you inform Nezu?”

“Yes, I fear I will have to, but just know that I’m proud of you both, even if what what you did was stupid and could’ve sparked more injuries.” Aizawa’s eyes softened. If this were his kids, he’d give them a genuine scolding before praising them, but they’re bodyguards, as much as he doesn’t like to acknowledge it, “but I also want to ask about the numerous dead bodies found in the hideout; I didn’t inquire Dazai about it, so I hope you’ll be truthful.” Ah, shit, right! These folk don’t like killing people, even if they’re villains, unless absolutely necessary, and technically, massacring those folk wasn’t necessary, but it felt right.

“Dazai turned them on each other,” a simple lie that takes all blame off of them— sort of. Aizawa stared incredulously, cocking an eyebrow, “what? The bastard can be cruel enough to sell a drowning man water, but smart enough to get him to buy it.” And it wasn’t like Dazai never made a group of allies turn on each other, which can still cause issues in this society, but at least the charge of murder can be taken off of him because no one told them to attack one another, right? Right. And if that isn’t the case, then well, fuck.

Now, Chuuya was languishing in the stare boring into his very soul all the way to whatever chambers Arahabaki is locked away in.

Aizawa sighed, pinching his nose bridge.

The sound of soft footsteps snatched their attention to Eri, who looked unsure of where she should walk or move.

Just as Aizawa was about to crouch, Eri hesitantly trudged next to Chuuya’s leg, hiding herself behind it to the best of her ability. Chuuya smiled, subconsciously ruffling her hair, bringing about a flinch from her, causing him to remove his hand, muttering an apology.

Aizawa’s eyes softened at the display, moving toward the door and opening it, allowing the two to exit the room first.

Walking with a child clinging to his leg was hard work, but it’s something he’s rather used to, and while abilities aren’t permitted since most aren’t aware of their existence, he didn’t want to be accused of using a quirk in public and get into legal trouble over something as troublesome as that.

Outside sat Mirio, Midoriya, and his partner, Dazai. Mirio was offering encouraging words like “she’ll be okay,” and “she’s safe with us now,” while Midoriya was trying to piece together the deeper connection between Eri and Chuuya, not that it’ll get him too far. Anyone with a sane mind wouldn’t go “they’re both lab rats!” Or would they? Would the saner option be to come to that conclusion?

Once Eri caught wind of Dazai, her eyes widened immensely, and she detached herself from Chuuya, tentatively walking toward the brunette.

Dazai opened his eye, lifting his head slightly from the nap that never came, and flashed a pleased smile her way.

“Hello, Eri-Chan~, it’s nice to see you awake,” he crooned, “now–” his eye narrowed slightly once he saw the girl staring at his bandages.

“You still have bandages…”

“So do you.” Eri’s mouth felt dry. While she may be able to relate with Chuuya about being someone’s personal rat, she felt she could relate with the brunette, too, even if the cause for their bandages is different. There’s just something so lonely and dark about him, and she’s not sure if she’s the only one who can see it; is it perhaps due to her seeing him in action with the ginger that she has this insight? She didn’t like it. No, she didn’t like no matter how hard he tried to force it, his smile never seems to reach his eyes. She would know; she had to force one at times, but his seems effortless. Not a dint in sight.

Or maybe she’s looking into it too much.

“Well then,” Mirio laughed awkwardly, “you both have something in common, see, Eri? If you’re having a hard time fitting in, then there’s no need!” Even though Mirio annoyed the shit out of Dazai at times, he could respect the blond’s efforts. Eri nodded her head, moving herself closer to the brunette as if to shield herself.

“And in the light, you don’t have to worry about no one being there to sooth your sorrows, like me, for example,” Dazai whispered to her, leaning closer to her ear, only departing when he stood up to stretched. Eri’s eyes widened, and tears pricked her eyes. Rubbing vigorously at her face, staining her arms, nearly everyone panicked and Chuuya was about to begin scolding his partner before the girl unexpectedly hugged the petite mummy, burying her face within his legs.

While Dazai may not have a liking toward children, this once child may be the exception… perhaps.

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.

.

It was a day since Eri was discharged and Aizawa explained in depth, to the best of his ability, about what happened, before the two teenage bodyguards had to give their own report of events in a room of trusted heroes who were more or less aware of their jobs. Obviously, they had to find a way to get around the massacring numerous people in search of Eri without it sounding like bullshit, but it was rather easy. All Dazai had to say was “we went in there without the intention of gravely hurting anyone, but they twisted our hands and so I plotted them against each other.” It took a while for them to believe him, especially since the lie detector detective was having a hard time deciphering if he was truthful. Perks of being an all-time nullifier, Dazai supposed. It was a tad tricker with Chuuya, however, but luckily, they were dismissed before the slug could put his horrid lying skills to use.

Now, Nezu sat at his desk, fingertips— or pads—touching one another as his palms (?) rested on the table. Dazai and Chuuya sat on opposite ends in front of him, the air rigid, yet they’ve dealt with scarier environments.

“So, Aizawa informed me of your little endeavors. If I may ask, can either of you restate the rules I’ve given you?” His head tilted.

Dazai sighed, opening his mouth, ““You two have free reign to go wherever, whenever, as long as you don't harm anyone,” was the first one, “you are only allowed to interfere if a pro hero struggles during battle and the students are at risk,” was the second, and the conclusion was “apart from those two rules, I expect you to follow all the other rules like any other student,” satisfied?” Nezu nodded his head, happy to know that his rules weren’t on deaf ears. And he smiled. Huh, yeah, Dazai doesn’t like having an animal of similar intelligence of him; he expected the man to be mad or upset like Mori whenever they derail from the initial purpose given to them.

“Good job, you two. Even though the rules are a bit iffy and bent here, you’ve both done well, and I’m happy to have you as bodyguards.” He reached for a porcelain teacup, sipping from it slowly. A soft tink was heard and the rigid atmosphere dissipated, “just be sure to not do something like this without informing us; it’ll be a shame if we formed a team and some of your classmates are involved, formulating the risk of getting caught.”

“And I don’t know if the results were permitted, but please try not to massacre people all willy nilly. The Hero Public Safety Commission, the organization that gave me the green light to request you two, have decided to give you another chance without any arrests needing to be made.” The duo nodded, leaving once they were dismissed. Once they were a good distance away, Chuuya cleared his throat with an unsure laugh.

“Well, that was awkward,” Chuuya muttered, “I was having a hard time taking him seriously.” Oceanic blue eyes glanced at his partner, “what’s got you so stiff?” The younger’s body released tension as quickly as a cat with the zoomies.

“He was eyeing me too much; I fear my little plot with the LOV may have to wait.” Dazai answered, schooling his expression to complete, perfected blankness. And the mention of HPSC being involved soured his tastebuds. If Dazai’s research was correct, the organization was rather corrupt in its way of doing things. Having “background” heroes’ carry out killings so the “frontline” heroes' images don’t get tarnished, or even coming up with some elaborate story of why the hero was justified in the killing, even if most with brain cells can taste the bullshit radiating off the excuses. However, their involvement makes sense; no matter how popular a school must be, bringing in foreigners from a closed off city had its issues and needed heavy work to be kept secret, but also, that meant tabs were being kept on them. How frustrating. But it also poses another question, how many people know who they are and are waiting for them to mess up? Arresting them for those grunts' deaths, while gaining them more support from the public, will create tension because a child’s life was involved, and most people draw the line of not killing when children are being slaughtered or used for any purpose. And did Mori take into account this possibility? Dazai will admit; it only crossed his mind once before he drowned the thought with ideals of suicide and getting this over with.

“Oh, right! The one person you meet of similar intelligence is an animal!” Chuuya laughed, “once I figure out what he is, that’ll be you new name!” Dazai huffed, blowing a raspberry at the ginger. Walking past Hound Dog’s office, the door opened slightly while Eri walked out, Aizawa in tow.

Eri immediately walked away from Aizawa, snuggling herself in-between Dazai and Chuuya.

“Glad to see you both; don’t be late to your next period.” Aizawa held his hand out to Eri, who reluctantly shuffled into his grasp, waving bye to the two. What a short-lived interaction.

“You still never told me what you said to make her cry,” Chuuya side-eyed Dazai. Dazai half-shrugged, a smirk playing on his lips.

“And you’ll never get it from me for as long as I live~.”

“Ah, well, seems your demise will have to come a little early.” Dazai guffawed, trotting away from Chuuya, who began “chasing” after him after Dazai declared a “that’s if your short legs can get to me.”

.

.

.

Chuuya shoved Dazai out of his chair, plopping down in his with a smug grin.

“Wah! Chuuyaaaa~!” The brunette whined, sitting up with a betrayed expression, “that hurt a lot! What if I hit my head?”

“Then perhaps you’ll finally know shame,” chuckled the ginger. Dazai huffed, dropping into his seat and kicking Chuuya’s leg. Chuuya returned the gesture until someone cleared their throat. Looking up, they found Iida staring at them unamused.

“I understand visiting family can make your behavior aberrant, but please remember the environment you’re in.” He even scolded them with the hand chopping motion. Dazai and Chuuya stared at one another, schooling their expressions quickly before the blue-haired teen finds another reason to scold them, bringing their eyes back to the class president, Dazai smirked.

“You’re right; our apologies.” Iida nodded, walking away and the two began laughing quietly because they did not want to attract his attention again. The air was light and airy, and they were genuinely in a good mood. They saved a child from an abuser, didn’t face any repercussions for it, and Dazai was able to convince Aizawa for them to be the girl’s main support system.

Everything was fine and smooth sailing like a boat in an open ocean on a calm sea day with the saltwater surrounding the crew. Huh, man Chuuya missed Yokohama and the salty air that enveloped the streets like a warm hug given to those with mothers, and the elderly communities of grandmas taking you in as their own while providing you with food to eat and random stories to immerse yourself in. This place wasn’t like that. It lacked the distinctive smell of salt, and there was no true comfort to be found within it. More than likely due to Chuuya putting his life on the line for Yokohama once Guivre was released from its shackles, but even without that event, this place would never feel like home or however home is supposed to feel.

Present Mic entered the room, loud and energetic as always with a wide smile on his face.

.

.

.

It was the dead of night when oceanic blue and coffee brown eyes flung open, pupils dilated and breathing heavy. It wasn’t a nightmare induced panic, he doesn’t even dream, but something was bugging Arahabaki, and the creature decided screeching loudly would be a good idea to get its frustrations across.

“Shut… the fuck… up…” groaned the ginger, burying a pillow around his head; it wasn’t like the singularity did this constantly but every blue moon it decides to act up like a toddler throwing tantrums because they can’t have matching utensils.

If only the creature knew how to speak properly then they could perhaps communicate like proper people— human lab rat to God-like singularity, you know?

Banging his head against the mattress, Chuuya groaned loudly and rolled off the bed, allowing his body to free fall to the floor before his left foot caught him. The one thing he despises during times like this is how Dazai is the only one who could shut the bastard living rent free in his head, literally, and that sometimes requires them to have makeshift sleepovers. Now, sleepovers aren’t Chuuya’s issue, no, it’s the fact Dazai is as nocturnal as an owl and there are times Chuuya wakes up with a badly drawn mustache and monocle on his face, along with the sentence “I eat dog food” when he does not, in fact, eat dog food and it’s his idiotic partner that does to upset, well, dogs!

Noticing a hat off of his retractable hat rack, he quickly fixed it and left his room, the chilly air hitting him like icicles.

Eri was required to live with Aizawa until further notice, so that meant the tired man was more adamant about people being asleep on time and not causing a ruckus. Understandable, but that also meant Chuuya had to be extremely careful about his movements.

Knocking softly on Dazai’s door, a melody that was a force of habit. It went like: da dadadada da da dun dun.

Tapping his foot impatiently, Arahabaki screaming up a fuss, the door opened and Dazai had an arrogant eyebrow cocked.

“Hello, dog of mine, what is the purpose of this visit?” Chuuya was about to explain until he saw the slight glimmer in Dazai’s eye.

“Oh, you know, jackass,”

“Indeed, I do~. Come on,” beckoning the ginger into his room, Chuuya awkwardly dragged himself to the brunette’s bed, flopping on it with a groan as Arahabaki seemed to be scratching at his skull now. Dazai; after closing his door, lightly stepped over, and fell on top of Chuuya, draping himself over the older.

“Bastard, get off of me,” mumbled the ginger, face buried within the mattress. Dazai hummed, sliding off of him with an arm still around him. Silence. Apart from the mackerel’s breathing and the soft fan going in the background. A cold feeling rushed through him, and sleepiness was a welcomed stab to the body. Eyes drooping, he allowed them to close to transport him to a slumber of nebulous.

Once Dazai was sure the ginger was asleep, he gently rearranged their bodies so no one woke up with an aching body, or rather, so Chuuya won’t wake up with an aching body. Now the brunette lies awake, staring at the ceiling unsure of what his body wants. It’s giving off sleepy signals, but then it’s taking them away once he agrees to them, and it’s a cruel cycle that’s known him since he was a younger child.

Glancing toward his dog, eyes blank of anything, he watched with practice ease as the ginger’s stomach rose and fell, soft snoring exiting his mouth. Normally, Dazai would retaliate for the loud dog sounds with a sharpie drawing, but he wasn’t in the mood (Chuuya broke his sharpie) to do anything mischievous.

The vicissitude of the the day was rather laughable, but Dazai kept quiet, not wanting to deal with a sleepy brute spewing curses like his past life was a sailor.

If Dazai had to be frank, in his own mind nonetheless; he doesn’t know why the fear of someone reading his thoughts still existed when none of that bullshit can occur unless they’re a witch or ancient being, but he was quite happy to see his partner acting more like himself, and didn’t seem on the verge of degrading himself for something he couldn’t control. Such is the foolish nature of a slug; the moment they’re aware of something, they always blame it on themselves for not being omniscient. It’s gotten better over the months they’ve known each other, but the influence of the Sheep always relying on him and guilting him when he doesn’t agree with something is a can of worms that’s only been half-way cleaned out. Perhaps they’ll never be a time where Chuuya will not blame himself, especially when there’s kids involved, but at least he isn’t getting drunk, tersely talking about how he made the organization worse and was never the leader of it despite the evidence suggesting he was the one supporting it the most. Leader or not. When a Sheep member was in trouble, he had to solve it; when a rival organization attacked, he was the one to retaliate; when it came to making them feel safe, he was the go-to. Not because he has the caring personality of a thousand older brothers, but due to him being strong. In the end, his care for them hadn’t mattered and they only saw him as a threat the moment he gained autonomy of his power.

Old habits do either die hard or come back with sharper nails to dig deeper within the flesh, after all.

It’s a fact of life no one can refute.

The door creaked open, awakening Chuuya and alerting Dazai, who was already staring at the door mindlessly. A short stature entered the room timidly, peaking their head through the door, unsure if they should be in here or if this was even the right room.

“Ah, Eri-Chan,” Dazai crooned, hopping off the bed to glide toward her. Eri opened her mouth to say something, closed it, and nodded a greeting before skimming the room.

“Chuuya is in here, too?” Her voice was barely above a whisper as she fidgeted with her fingers. Eri wore a white dress shirt, a plain red pinafore, and gray tights with large tan boots. Her hair was also much neater and cared for. She looked healthier.

“Mhm, the dog is sleepy, so–”

“No…’m not.”

“–it’s best if… ah, never mind; he’s awake.” Dazai sulked in his fish pajamas. Eri nodded, causing Dazai to cock an eyebrow, “do you want to sit down? We don’t have school until much later.” She nodded, again, allowing Dazai to pick her up, placing her on the only chair in the room.

Tilting his head, Dazai noticed how the girl’s attention stayed clawed to his face.

“Hm? Do I have something on my face?” The girl shook her head, her pupils dilating as she searched for something else to stare at. Confused, Dazai reached a hand up to his face before it clicked: he doesn’t have his bandages on. Eh, oh, well.

“Is it about my lack of bandages?”

“…yes…”

“Do you feel like you’re invading my privacy?” Eri nodded again.

“Well, if it makes you feel better, those are entirely useless.” Now she looked confused, her brows furrowed, wrinkling her forehead.

“So, they’re for no… reason?”

“Not for a reason that’s obvious.” Dazai offered a smile. Finally, Chuuya exited the bed, fully relaxed and Arahabaki at bay from whatever tantrum that was. Once Eri caught a good look, her eyes widened more, noticing the two-toned eyes blinking back tiredness.

“Goo’… mornin’, Eri,” yawned the ginger, unaware of the stare boring into him.

“…your eye is brown…” she muttered, scratching one foot on her leg.

“Yes, it– oh,” Chuuya stopped in his tracks, remembering where he was fully and the lack of contacts. Eri cautiously eyed him, unsure if it’s her right to stare. Chuuya dismissed it, “it’s fine; I wear contacts.”

Eri nodded, guilt consuming her. It was apparent the ginger didn’t want that to be out.

Offering a smile that reached his eyes, Chuuya gently ruffled the girl's hair.

“No need to look so distraught. They’re just contacts.” Retrieving his hand, Chuuya began to walk out of the room so he could change from the dog pajamas until a small hand clutches his shirt, “hm? Is there something the matter?” Looking back at Eri, eyebrow raised and eyes soft, the girl’s resolve wavered, and she let go of his shirt, muttering an apology.

After a couple minutes waiting for the girl to speak her mind, it was apparent that there were many more ways to go, and that whatever is in her mind won’t be spoken yet.

Glancing back at the girl, Chuuya hummed and left Dazai’s room, not bothering to meet the amused gaze of the younger.

“I didn’t do anything wrong… did I?” Dazai tilted his head, putting on a pondering look.

“No, I don’t believe so.” Eri nodded, unbelievably of the answer, “just— he wears his contacts for personal reasons like I wear my bandages.”

“So, you both share the same reasons?”

“No, entirely different reasons,” Dazai ruffled her hair some more. After a while, Eri understood and nodded, her lips crinkling into a self-conscious expression, “but the reasons are why we wear them.”

“Like me and you? Our bandages?”

“Yes, like me and you with our bandages.” Jeez, the way his voice was overly soft would give his subordinates whiplash; he wouldn’t be surprised if it manifested within them at this moment. Ah, right, Dazai wonders how Hirotsu and Odasaku are doing.

The room was engulfed in silence before the door opened again with a quick knock. This time, Aizawa entered with his eyes as wide as a crater, straining them even more from their usual tiredness. Immediately, his eyes softened, and a relieved breath escaped his mouth.

“Eri, it’s good to see that you’re still safe,” muttered the teacher, the usual tiredness of his voice returning to it slowly.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Aizawa,” Eri bowed, her pupils dilating as she began to shake slightly. Aizawa furrowed his brows, tentatively walking near the girl to calm her down.

“It’s fine, you did nothing wrong; I was merely worried for your safety, is all,” Aizawa rubbed comforting circles on her back. Nodding, Eri began scratching at her fingers, picking at the skin around them. Comforting silence warped around the room for a duration of time none was in the mood to recall. Eri and Aizawa speaking quietly with one another and Dazai watching after he successfully bandaged his eye again. The light was bothering it again.

Waving ‘goodbye,’ the child and teacher left Dazai to get ready, Eri longing to stay longer, but alas, she needed to go to her morning therapy session.

Exhaling deeply once he closed the door, Dazai made his way to his closet and grabbed his uniform, sluggishly dressing for school.

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

Opening his door, Dazai was met with Midoriya, Uraraka, Iida, and Todoroki at his door. Two of the four adorned welcoming smiles, one indifferent, yet welcoming, and the other stern and welcoming.

“Good to see you up, Dazai-kun,” Iida greeted, quickly scanning Dazai to make sure his uniform was properly worn. Humming with acknowledgment, the blue-haired teen smiled widely, “well, we don’t want to be late for class, so we?”

Dazai has never been more confused in his life.

Ten minutes ago, class 1A sat in the lounge room waiting for a reasonable time to exit the dormitories, doing various activities such as eating, last minute homework, etc., before Kaminari sighed, complaining about how boring it was without the constant bickering of Dazai and Chuuya. Kyoka thumped him upside the head, saying it was bad to generalize them as only bickering, before agreeing that it was less lively without them. Mina shrieked.

“Guys! We don’t know anything about them!” The alien cried out, her black eyes wide and bulging.

“Well, yeah, they’re either to themselves or we don’t make the effort, kero.” Tsuyu tilted her head confused.

“We did make an effort! The sleepover, remember?!” Mina whined, not wanting that group effort to go to waste.

“Oh, right, but that was the only time we bothered to get to know them.” Yaoyorozu hummed, scratching at her chin like an old man with a beard.

And now, here they were, trying to make more of a group effort to bring the estranged two into their close-knit family.

First, the Deku and Baku squads work to warm them up, not meddling between whatever connection they have with one another to avoid any more annoyed, passed the border angry, outbursts, then, the group works to involve them with other kids— except Mineta, who hasn’t been harassing anyone lately, always staring at Chuuya as if the ginger will go through with his threat— and slowly, but surely, it wont feel as if there’s strangers within their classroom.

It was a full proof plan.

“So, Dazai-kun, what are your hobbies?”

“I like reading.”

“Oh? What types of books? I personally like to read history books about older heroes or villain groups!” Midoriya geeked; it wasn’t a surprise that was a hobby of his. With him repeatedly writing things down in a notebook, Dazai would’ve been more confused had the kid not researched things of the past.

“Philosophy, psychology, and some more.” Everyone’s eyes widened at the answer, expect for Todoroki, who nodded and hummed softly. Dazai would’ve named all the major human sciences categories, but there’s no need. Those two are his most favorite for varying reasons.

“Do you wish to be some type of therapist? Like Mr. Hound Dog?” The question was valid, but Dazai sadly couldn’t say the actual answer. Oh, no, I don’t care for therapy or helping people. Instead, I love to mess with their mind and become some self-imprinted boogeyman that never leaves them until they die. Well, love is too big of a word… interested, perhaps?

“Kind of; it’s either that or medical doctor, though I’m sure I’ll have to take college for those...”

“Not interrogator or police? Your ability would be most useful for detaining since quirk canceling handcuffs can be tricky to detain someone with.” Dazai smirked, yet he never answered the question.

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

“Okay, so, the last time this group was together— minus Bakugo— we got in Chuuya’s nerves, and he blew up at us, right? So, let’s avoid that this time!” Mina declared. Bakugo scowled; his eyebrow raised offensively.

“What do you mean you “got on his nerves”?” The blond crossed his arms, peeved; it took a while for the group to understand, but Bakugo had some form of respect for the ginger because 1. He’s strong and 2. He’s not scared to back down from a battle. The second point was revealed when yesterday, Bakugo decided to randomly challenge him, and he agreed, a battle-riled grin on his face. That is what gained Bakugo’s respect.

“Well, you know how there’s obvious chemistry between Chuuya and Dazai? Well, uhm, we sort of forgot they’re from different norms and customs, so we began teasing Chuuya about it, despite him telling us to leave it, and… yeah,” Bakugo couldn’t even dignify that with a response; he knew that his group could be more eccentric with things and can sometimes cross boundaries they don’t mean to— heck, Kaminari’s in this group and while he may not be as bad a pervert as Mineta, a pervert is still a perv— and they do seem regretful, even though Mina went on a tirade of how they already apologized, so there shouldn’t be any bad blood, especially after the sleepover they had where they played UNO and wrote stories.

“You guys are idiots,”

“Hey, man! You don’t mean that!” Kirishima sheepishly smiled despite being missing during the events. Bakugo scowled, slouching as he walked away.

Knocking harshly on the door, it flew open to reveal a pissed Chuuya.

“—Zai, I swea– oh, what do you guys want?” The shorter tilted his head, crossed his arms, and leaned against the door frame.

“Hey, extra, accompany us to class.” Raising an eyebrow, Chuuya straightened himself up.

“And why should I?”

“Because–”

“Ah, don’t mind him!” Interrupted Mina, “we want to have a restart with this group, you know, since the lunch incident. We tried making it up to you with the Sleepover, but even that didn’t work too well,” her facial muscles stretched, giving her a welcoming smile as she spoke.

“…You don’t have to make up anything to me; I was the one who overreacted when you were just joking…” mumbled Chuuya. The last apology that was given, Dazai handled most of the talking, and Chuuya could hardly get his feelings out due to that. Now, the brunette was meddling off somewhere.

“Yeah, you could look at it like that, but we were still pushing your buttons!” Sero countered.

“Sure, but—” Chuuya paused, deciding to shut up— “alright,” the group cheered, dragging Chuuya along to their first class of the day.

“So, what do you like to do?” Mina smirked, bumping shoulders with him.

“Well, I like fights, specifically ones that actually tests my strength, but any fight is a good fight,” Chuuya rambled, not seeing the uneasy looks his classmates were giving him, except for on Bakugo, who could relate with liking fights that test strength rather than the heavily implied liking to fight just to fight, “I also like going out with someone I call Ane-San to go try new tea in stock.”

“Oh, you have a sister?” Mina asked, nearly squealing.

“That’s cool man! I have two sisters, too!” Kaminari boasted.

“Ah, well, she’s not my biological sister, actually, she was annoyed at me calling her Ane-San in the beginning because she wasn’t “that old yet,” but it seemed to grow on her,” Chuuya laughed, fondness birthing on his face.

“Do you have any siblings then?” Kirishima asked, his sharp teeth on display.

“…an older brother,” Chuuya didn’t know if he could call Verlaine his older brother since 1. Chuuya is Japanese and Verlaine is French, but with their track record of labs and similar abilities, they’re the closest to family anyone could get, even if Chuuya doesn’t care to correct others when they say he’s a single child.

“That… doesn’t sound like a conversation that we should continue,” Sero coughed. Chuuya chuckled even more.

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

“So, about abilities, I remember you said that the government doesn’t care to research quirks since they’re rare in Yokohama,” Midoriya began once they entered 1A, standing by the brunette’s desk with a notebook in hand, “so the juxtapositions between them may not be obvious—”

“Oh, no, at first it wasn’t,” lied Dazai, an innocent expression carved into the meat of his face, “but the most time I’ve spent here, the more obvious they’ve become. Say, it was always odd that quirks couldn’t nullify abilities, yet abilities can nullify quirks, or how quirks can manifest themselves as permanent features, yet abilities can’t. I’ve decided it’s due to the study some scientists in Yokohama made. Their theory is that abilities are from the soul and I’m pretty sure quirks are genetic, so it makes sense which one would hold more power,” Dazai droned, absently watching as Midoriya wrote down the brunette’s thoughts.

“Yes, that would make sense,” Iida mused, “does that mean the same ability can’t be achieved in different people?”

“Oh, far from it, actually! People can have the same ability whether it’s an exact copy, or different in some way. Like someone who can rewind time may only be able to rewind it once for every person, including themselves, while another may not have that limitation, and is able to rewind as long as a requirement is met,” Iida nodded, his mouth forming an ‘o’ once it finally clicked in his brain.

“Requirements?” Uraraka asked. Dazai hadn’t a clue why he was rambling on about abilities, but if they’re going to be here for a while, it’s best to be cordial with them. They aren’t enemies.

“Yes, No Longer Human is touch based. Upon the Tainted is touch based, too, but for other abilities, it may be injury based, hunger based, close to death based, object based, etc., etc…”

“Close to… death?”

“Mhm!” It was an old file Dazai came across when he was snooping in Mori’s files; it was a young girl, who’s definitely older now, but she had the ability to heal as long as her patients were on their death beds. Rather interesting and makes her a much better healer than the majority since apparently, her healing brings back chopped off limbs. He never met her before, and he doesn’t truly care about what she’s doing; that’d be odd, but he has a feeling it’s why Elise is a brat. Honestly creepy once you put thought into it.

Heaving a sigh, Dazai just wanted to know if his dart gun got approved yet.

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

“W-wait…! Dazai did w-what?!” Mina’s guffaw gave Chuuya the proudest feeling ever, even if the story was at Mori’s expense, but the elder wasn’t here to scold them about tarnishing his reputation, so he smiled proudly.

“Yep, he put nair in his shampoo and then acted innocent when confronted.” The bald spot was unhide-able without a wig, and he’s sure that the beanie he wore was collateral control. Yep, that was definitely the reason they were assigned this mission. Favor be damned.

“If your pal keeps acting like that, it won’t be a surprise when someone beats his ass,” Bakugo scoffed, annoyed at the brunette still from the comment he made about his behavior. He never did get an apology, did he?

“Eh, he’s slippery like a fish, and even if they tried, he’s ten steps ahead and can be agile when it benefits him,” Chuuya sighed; he should really stop sighing.

“How can you even hang out with someone like him?” And Chuuya couldn’t exactly answer the question. Because they are partners? Because they are— dare he say— friends? Because they trust each other even if it stops short of personal matters? Chuuya didn’t know, and he didn’t care to know. The way Dazai acted was how he acted. Whether he does so to gain intel, lower someone’s guard, or to merely be a hinderance to the working folk, it’s just how he was.

And do to Chuuya’s lack of answering, he merely shrugged, brushing the topic aside with ease.

Opening the classroom door, Dazai and his friend group were already inside, chatting away a storm about what Chuuya could make out to be abilities or powers in general. However, when it comes to the complete nature of abilities, Dazai isn’t being 100% truthful. He gives examples of abilities and how more advanced they are than quirks, but he doesn’t go into depth, leaving the audience to assume that’s all there is to them.

They made quick eye contact, Dazai’s eyes sparkling mischievously before they went back to Midoriya.

“Say, did you know Chuuya is a sore loser? I beat him in an arcade game, and he wouldn’t stop saying I cheated! Tears were pricking his eyes, eve–”

If Dazai was hit upside the head with a book, yes, indeed, he was. Bastard not knowing when to shut the fuck up— heck, he even raised his voice— and then exaggerating? He did not cry!

“Ah! Chibi~!” Whined the petite teenager, rubbing his head gently, “what if I get a bruise?!”

“Not my issue!” Glared the ginger, receiving a pout from the brunette. Mina was doubled over, holding her stomach laughing with Kaminari and Sero. Kirishima was holding back a laugh, while Bakugo had a proud smirk on his face, like Chuuya avenged a past life of his.

The door cracked open, gaining everyone’s attention, and shutting them up, as Aizawa entered. His expression was pleased, happy that his class didn’t take more than two seconds to quiet down.

“As you all know, the girl from the raid we were supposed to conduct was found and is now safe in our custody,” Aizawa began, not mentioning the two who found her— which, while they were grateful for, it was sort of obvious considering the girl always clung to either of them whenever she could— and talking about how they are expected to help her settle in properly and make her know she is safe, “I couldn’t tell you all this yesterday because I put her comfort as a priority. Now that you’re all aware, I hope you do the same.”

The class nodded, a unanimous “yes, Aizawa-sensei” sounded throughout the room before their teacher nodded, zipped himself away, and took a nap near the board.

“What is the little girl’s name?” Mina asked, her voice excited and her eyes sparkling.

“Eri,” Midoriya answered, his expression matching, “we met her when she was taken to the hospital.”

“Hospital? What happened? Kero.” Tsuyu pondered, concern wrinkling her face.

“She gained a fever and wouldn’t stay awake for long.”

“Oh, that’s terrible!” That voice was Uraraka, who’s fist was balled up— what was with these people and balling up their fists? — more commotion about the girl was made until Aizawa raised from his slumber and exited the room, signaling homeroom was over with, and the school day could officially begin. Hooray.

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

Midnight stood in front of the classroom smiling proudly. Scanning the classroom, her eyes landed on Chuuya before gliding over to Dazai.

“Now, I know it’s already been some time since you’ve been here, but a few teachers brought to my attention you both lack hero names,” Chuuya never wanted to level a city more in his life. Hero names? Hero names? If word gets back to the mafia, he can already hear the behind-the-back snickering! They were already bold enough to hold back snickers in his face when he first joined and Dazai spread around him being a sore loser! Though, hopefully he’s gained enough of a reputation that a glare immediately deletes the information from their head.

“Oh, it appears so,” Dazai deadpanned, his eyes empty despite the small smile on his face. Even he was opposed to the idea.

“You don’t have to give them now, but at the end of the class, tell me what you think,” Midnight clasped her hands together before instructing the class to open up their textbooks so they could learn more about the evolution of heroes and catastrophic events even greater heroes brought hope into.

It was utterly boring. Chuuya rested his head on his palm, ringing filling his ears as Arahabaki started up its mess again— what was wrong with it?

‘You better not fucking start,’ was the only warning the being was given and it quieted for some time before it made a rumbling noise. Too bad for it, Chuuya can’t speak growls.

Feeling his eye twitch as the singularity tried communicating something.

‘Prote…er…’ and goddammit if Chuuya jumped in his seat that is to stay between him and the seat because now that fucker can speak language?

‘So now you can speak? What was with all the screeching yesterday?’ Arahabaki quieted for a moment before resuming its initial babbling, invoking a groan from Chuuya.

“Chuuya-kun, is everything alright?” Midnight’s gaze bore into him, and a few of his classmates turned in their seats to check on him, too. How nice of them.

“Mhm, I just have a headache,” giving his best smile while he adjusted his posture; his head felt extremely heavy all of a sudden.

“Do you need to go to Recovery Girl?” Nodding his head, Midnight quickly wrote him a pass and let him leave the classroom. The classroom was quiet until the door closed and whispers broke out.

“I hope he’s okay.”

“Yeah, it’d be terrible if he’s sick.”

“I wonder what caused it…”

“I’m telling you school air is—”

“Kaminari, shut up.”

“Everyone, quiet down again, please!” Midnight clapped her hands, “let us get back on track.”

Chuuya stood next to the door, happy the whispering ceased as he made his journey to the nurse’s office, his head throbbing as Arahabaki scratched tirelessly at it. What was up with it? And what was it trying to say? Jeez, and here Chuuya thought he and the creature reached an understanding that its screeching harms him.

‘God, shut up!’ Chuuya shouted back at it, but Arahabaki was determined to get whatever it’s spewing out. Staggering inside, Recovery Girl immediately got down from her desk once she saw the ginger nearly lose footing.

Gently grabbing his hand, she led him to one of the beds and gently sat him down, despite the obvious height difference.

“Are you okay?” The old lady stared at him compassionately, trying to make sure he stays conscious despite there being no threat of him passing out.

“Mhm, I just have a sli— headache,” Chuuya grimaced as Arahabaki screeched louder, clearly not pleased with being called a headache, but that’s how it’s acting.

Recover Girl nodded, going over to her medicine cabinet in search of headache pills.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw the way his hands clutched around the fabric of his pants, not showing any signs of loosening, and pursed her lips.

“Your teachers are aware you’re here, yes?” She didn’t want to be at fault if it turns out he’s skipping or worse.

“Mhm,” he quickly grabbed the pass from him pocket, showing it to her. Nodding, she walked back over to him and handed him two pills.

“I’ll go and get you some water. Wait here.” Chuuya nodded, clenching and unclenching his hand around the oblong-shaped pills.

Eyes darting around the room as intense discomfort settled within his bones. While the room wasn’t as grand as a hospital, nor did it resemble a laboratory, it’s existence still caused his skin to crawl.

Subconsciously, his hand made is way to his neck. While he never knew what he may have looked like back then in the bluish black liquid, remembering the clone of his and all the wires and tubes stretching from spine to neck made his skin crawl.

‘Was that how I looked? Viewed as something inhuman and as a result, was treated like it, too?’ That was the question he used to ask himself after the events had long passed, and those were the thoughts he used to share with Verlaine despite the man not being very sociable as he sat in his wisteria chair, willingly incarcerated in the Port Mafia’s shelter that Dazai likes to call a basement due to how abandoned the place was, and still inflicting a bout of anger within Chuuya just from seeing his face because no matter what understanding could be reached between them, he still took away the only people that showed basic care for him without treating him like some weapon or leading him on wild goose chases because they don’t like to communicate plans accordingly. He still took away the one person in the light who wanted him to join with.

Then his phone dinged.

Boss

Hello, Chuuya-kun, it may come as a surprise as to why I’m contacting you, but I’d like to hear about newly made progress.

Dazai-kun isn’t answering his texts and is leaving me on read.

Chuuya blinked. What the fuck?

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

Chuuya was dismissed from the office a minute or two after swallowing the pills, and his grip on his phone was deadly.

There wasn’t much to tell the boss apart from them eliminating the Shie Hassakai, but he was expecting something newalready deeming that old, unimportant news where the aftermath could easily be accessed through the media.

He wanted more information about the LOV and their little rat they have dangling by the neck, chasing after a slice of cheese hungrily, but there wasn’t much to say other than “ask Dazai” or “we haven’t gotten there yet,” and he was heavily displeased. Next, the brunette not answering the boss’s text! How the hell are you supposed to explain to your boss that their texts aren’t being answered due to you being in a high-stakes area, but because your subordinate is a piece of shit? Well, he kinda just did, but in a more professional way, you know?

The pills didn’t help with Arahabaki’s rumbling, but the pain caused by it was much bearable and would dissipate if Arahabaki would use whatever intellectual capacity it may have to try and speak again like it had earlier, but no, it wanted to be difficult, and for a being with no personality, Chuuya was beginning to think it liked to be annoying.

Rubbing at his choker-free neck, Chuuya groaned harshly. Today was shitty in multiple ways despite how gentle it started, and he had the feeling it was just going to become worse. No, he knew it was going to become worse, like his body suddenly became more aware of the contact against his eyeball, and he wanted to scratch at it, but that’d be stupid. Blinking back the urges, Chuuya opened the door and resumed his way to his seat, offering an “I’m okay” smile to Midnight, who nodded firmly at him.

In his peripheral, he noticed Dazai staring at him showing nothing of his intent, but didn’t pay no mind to it, deciding he was now pissed at him for not answering Mori’s text because being on the man’s heavily sugar-coated passive aggressive side is not fun.

Class resumed and luckily, Chuuya wasn’t gone for long to where they were already on an assignment, and it appeared that Midnight was still on the same section from earlier. The projector was on, and it appeared they were researching articles to gain a better understanding of the first few quirks to ever appear.

“Now, if I recall, Dazai, Chuuya, you both have abilities, right? The predecessors of quirks,” Dazai nodded, reluctantly taking his eyes off Chuuya, while said ginger just looked bored, “in today’s society, they’re rather rare, but I assume they’re quite common where you’re from?”

“Yes, ma’am, well, more common than here but at home, they’d be uncommon.” And that’s including the people who aren’t even aware they have abilities.

“And quirks are considered rare there?”

“Mhm,” out of all their enemies, they could count on one hand with one finger the amount of people they fought with quirks. It took a while to realize that’s what the power was and why it was so weak, but after a while, it made sense. Some idiotic organization didn’t do their research and assumed that evolution = power and bribed some poor soul to join them. They didn’t last too long, and honestly, Chuuya was quite bummed, deeming them someone who more than likely just learned they had an ability and couldn’t conjure it properly. No, they were just that weak.

“And if you all recall, quirks are quite weaker than abilities— put it like this: the more distributed it is, the weaker it gets,” Midnight continued lecturing, talking about how abilities are so old it’s hard to pinpoint who had the first one, and how it’s a wonder there’s still people out there who can say for certain they have an ability. Then, she smoothly transitioned into how 200 years ago was when the shift was made, and abilities evolved into quirks at the price of strength, but the reward of having it more in tune with the body.

Honestly, boring work the duo was already aware of, but they couldn’t blurt that out since it’d be rude and Chuuya is rather fearful of the punishment of Ane-San if he were to be disrespectful, especially to a woman, while Dazai didn’t care enough to even listen. Zoning out as if his life depended on it.

‘…Eri…’ Chuuya’s eye twitched, seemingly putting together the cryptic message the singularity was trying to say.

‘Protect Eri? What do you think we’re trying to do?’ huffing softly, Chuuya slid in his chair, arms crossed as he longed for his hat to be where it belonged: on his head. ‘Besides, what’s with you getting all protective?’ and it was a genuine question because everything else in the book wouldn’t work to get the being to speak, yet some child they only met a few days ago had it picking up a language book?

Arahabaki went quiet after that. Chuuya would like to think it was from embarrassment.

Chuuya scratched at his skull harshly, surely leaving marks that would only be visible if he were bald, thinking long and hard about why Arahabaki would be so unexpectedly— and unexplainably— protective of Eri; it made zilch sense to the ginger. Yes, Chuuya knows it can care in its own, morally grey-tilting-to-black way, but that’s only when its safety is a factor.

Dazai stared, unamused, at the ginger pacing around the bathroom, yes, bathroom. They’re supposed to be at lunch, but the destructive manifestation wouldn’t stop its whining and screeching mixed with broken words like he’s some Russian learning Japanese.

“Chuuya~, this is so saddening; the dog can’t control his dog? How ironically sad…” Leaning against the door, Dazai ducked quickly, dodging someone’s lost pencil that was now stuck within the wall, “Chuuya!” The brunette feigned shock, about to go on some tirade about ‘abuse’ and ‘treating your partner right’ until the door opened and Monoma— a 1B kid they’ve learned can copy quirks— entered; his eyes widening before relaxing into a smug look. The duo didn’t want to deal with him right at this moment even though all the theories amplifying in Dazai’s mind begged to be tested. Some on scarier ends, others leaning into the category.

“Oh, look, the new 1A kids!” The kid greeted, loud and mockingly, “what? Having a mental breakdown in the bathroom? Can’t handle the school?”

“Uh-huh, yeah,” Chuuya glared at him, not wanting to deal with some annoying kid. Monoma was about to go on some sarcastic prattle about how 1B was better than 1A or something of the sorts, but the ginger merely walked out of the bathroom, Dazai following, and the teen’s shouts of surprise fading into the distance.

“Do you always believe he’s like that?”

“No, I’ve seen him interact with his classmates; he’s much kinder to them,” Dazai sighed, stretching his arms obnoxiously, almost hitting Chuuya in the face, before avoiding the swats of Chuuya’s arm.

“Bastard, keep your fishy arms near you,” scowled Chuuya, glaring at the brunette, who merely rolled his eyes with a shrug.

Rubbing circles into his skull, Chuuya walked away from Dazai, making sure to bump shoulders with him if only for the one second contact.

‘Yes, yes, protect Eri, you’ve said it more times than the fish obsesses over suicide, now shut up,’ Chuuya tried his best to scold the being, but how do you scold something that doesn’t care? It’s hard. Truly.

Clean shoes hitting the floor echoed through the halls as Chuuya made his way to Lunch Rush Cafeteria. The halls were quiet due to lunchtime or others in ongoing class, yet it all felt so loud, and it could only be blamed on one singularity. Arahabaki grumbled once before quieting and Chuuya felt as if he’d reach godhood; he’d gotten the singularity to shut the fuck up! That’s more impressive than the times he’d gotten Dazai to shut the fuck up! Actually, no, they were on par with each other; they both spoke nonsense without an off switch.

A smile grazed Chuuya’s lips before a voice was heard behind him.

“Chuuya-San,” turning his head, he was met with Eri standing awkwardly outside a classroom. Aizawa was probably inside.

“Eri,” lifting his hand to tilt a hat no longer sat upon his head, he, more embarrassed than the class clown making a failed joke, tried to save himself by waving. The girl noticed the mistake, that much was obvious, but didn’t comment on it. How lucky Chuuya was Dazai was no where to be found; he’d be laughing at the ginger to hell and back if he was.

Then it clicked: Arahabaki wasn’t quiet because it decided to give mercy, no, it’s because Eri was here. Muttering curses at the being under his breath, he turned his attention to the small girl, offering her a small smile.

There wasn’t much to say. Not really. Not unless this were to turn into a therapy session, and neither wanted that, so they stood in silence.

After ten minutes passed, Chuuya stared down the hall, wondering where Dazai was; he wasn’t that far behind, so he should’ve passed by now.

Blinking confusedly before rolling his eyes, Chuuya deemed he’d worry about the younger later. There was no point in ignorantly frightening the child staring beady-dull-eyed in front of him.

“Is Dazai-San not here…?” The girl mumbled, wanting both of the people she finds most comfort in to be with her. She fiddled with her fingers cautiously, unsure what to do.

“He is. I don’t know where the fish is at, though,” Chuuya walked toward the girl, ruffling her hair slightly like he used to with the younger familial of the ‘Sheep.’

Eri nodded, accepting the gesture with a blank look. Chuuya but his lip. He didn’t like the expression on someone so young. It’s one thing to see it on Dazai’s face; it’s another to see it on someone much younger’s face.

He wanted to wipe the look off her face— is this why Arahabaki was acting bratty? It, too, has the same wish? It could’ve said that for the get-go, but its intention was heard after many tries… Chuuya supposed.

Smiling awkwardly, Chuuya crouched down height-wise to the girl, “You know, ever since I’ve had the pleasure of saving you, you have been an extremely calming presence from the big ol’ mackerel,” began Chuuya, fixing his smile to show confidence, “I bet your smile is just as comforting.” Eri’s eyes widened slightly, her finger picking stopping as she shifted. It wasn’t in uncomfortable shift, no, mostly done to be done, but Chuuya still tracked every movement she made, a skill that took some time to build working with Dazai, though it may need some improvement concerning the brunette; it works wonders on anyone else though.

“I don’t believe I can,” she muttered, eyes focusing on the ground, “my experiences are limited…” her hands clasped together in front of her, her lips quivering as tears threatened to fall. Chuuya quickly cradled her cheek, rubbing his thumb in soothing circles, calming the girl down even though there was a slight flinch from the movement; he’d have to apologize after; it’s a habit he’d built living with the ‘Sheep,’ so he wasn’t thinking about the effects it’ll have on her.

“Sorry about that,” pulling his hand back, he watched as the girl tried to replace the warmth with her own. A small hand going to cradle her cheek before she got embarrassed and lowered it; it was adorable, if Chuuya was being honest.

Eri nodded her head, lifting her head to the sound of the door opening. Aizawa exited the room, nodding toward Chuuya.

They chatted for a while before Aizawa dismissed him, saying class was about to begin, and taking Eri with him. If Arahabaki was a human, Chuuya was certain Aizawa and the creature would have a dual to be the girl’s primary guardian. The way Arahabaki screeched says it all.

“Chuuya~! There you are! My poor chihuahua~, I feared I almost lost you!”

Chuuya was walking toward 1A for 5^th period when the annoyingly grating voice of a fish was heard down the hall. Arahabaki had yet to start up its bullshit again, so at least his mood was much brighter.

Chuuya glared at his partner before his eyes stopped dead on his bandages; they were peeling and dirty— perhaps even bloody. Extremely easy to see from the obnoxious waving of the brunette.

Opening his mouth, he was about to inform the brunette before memories of the past came forth like he’s Ebenezer Scrooge, prompting him to keep shut. That experience was awkward— nothing is ever awkward between them; they’re too weird for things to ever be awkward, yet that moment was, and it was all because Chuuya wanted the brunette to trust him with his mental.

Perhaps that’s what’s wrong with Chuuya; he wants the trust of others that don’t give a damn about the trust he places in them. The ‘Sheep’ is the better example of it all, and at times, Chuuya can’t help but believe Dazai isn’t any different despite everything he does differently from the ‘Sheep.’ He makes his intentions known— one way or another— and he’s terrifying when weaponizing the truth, but does he trust Chuuya with more than the bare minimum of being occasional work partners?

But their trust only ends on the battlefield. Doesn’t go any deeper than that sadly. Chuuya can trust the bastard to warn him of surprise attacks, yet Dazai can’t trust him when he’s going off the deep end. Always having to figure it out when the bandaged mummy is floating down a river with the piscine.

And Chuuya can’t quite place why he wants such trust; perhaps it’s to prove they have some bond outside of destruction or whatever ill-witted fortune the universe plagues them with. Chuuya knows there’s a more solid reasoning behind it, but he fears he hasn’t reached that level of maturity to deal with it in a productive way.

once they got into rhythm, walking side-by-side where they belong, Chuuya sighed. 

Making up his mind, Chuuya decided this won’t be a repeat of awkward communication and tapped the brunette’s shoulder lightly. Dazai turned to him, grinning, however, his eye cradled confusion.

“You’re bandages,” Chuuya motioned toward them. Dazai instinctively shielded his arm, turning to look at the ends that no longer stuck together like worn down adhesive on a piece of tape.

“Ah,” Dazai went back to smiling at Chuuya, waving a dismissive hand, “so it seems my bandages gained a mind of their own~,” he joked, and it was all he could do. Chuuya didn’t offer anything. Like he said last time, he wants the brunette to come to him willingly. Not out of obligation.

It’s quiet. Not a bad quiet— don’t get it confused— but a mutual agreement that bickering could wait. Dazai glanced at Chuuya from the corner of his eye, trying to figure out the motive of the ginger, yet nothing sinister shot off an alarm. His lips pursed and brows furrowed slightly, fixing themselves whenever the ginger looked his way.

There wasn’t anything to worry about, and he saw the scars before— rather an unfortunate situation and not something Dazai ever wants to experience again due to how random (?) it all was— so what was the harm in it this time? It's not random.

Dazai loves to boast that reading Chuuya is as easy as reading an opened book, so his intentions are very much out there (well, not as out there as when they first met, and the ginger gave him that horribly wonderful ultimatum, but out there), so what makes this any different?

Grabbing ahold of his unofficial-official partner’s hand, making the shorter jumped a bit before he began glaring at the younger, Dazai dragged him to the dormitory; while they should be in class, whatever teacher they have should be understanding.

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

Walking inside the clean, empty dorm, Chuuya surprisingly following like a dog on a leash as they climbed the stairs to Dazai’s room, Dazai was clam on the outside, and even on the inside where his heart was; he was too much of an expert to let his heart rate increase because of something as minuscule as this, but his thoughts were racing like he'd been electrocuted. Chuuya didn’t back off the last time he saw them, leaving him alone due to how irreversibly damaged he was. No. He sought him out despite the awkward tension between them; he still wanted to be near him like he wasn’t the plague in human form, bringing misfortune to those around him. His cheeks flushed, but he dismissed the feeling.

“Mackerel, what are we doing here?” Chuuya squinted, his nose wrinkled as he stared at the brunette suspiciously. It was the first words spoken once they entered Dazai’s room. It was as plain as ever.

“I need to change my bandages, and we can’t have my dog getting lost! He’s too small; he’d starve by the time he’s found~,” Dazai crooned, letting go of the older to saunter off to the bathroom in search of bandages. Chuuya was red in the face, a vein popping while his hands curled tightly.

“I’m not your damn dog!” Growled the older. Tapping his foot impatiently, waiting for the younger to get back from his endeavors. Eight minutes passed once the bathroom door opened again, and Chuuya’s eyes widened to find the brunette humming— no, that’s not the unusual part— and a lack of bandages on his forearms, “Did you hit your head in there, shitty bastard?”

Checking his arms quickly, there was no sign of blood, meaning Dazai cleaned it off, but the wounds looked irritated. Red and itchy. Chuuya almost wanted to scratch at his arms.

“No? Why do you believe that?” Dazai tilted his head, a gleam in his eye causing Chuuya to swallow back a retort. Cerulean blue eyes followed shakily the movement of the other. There was no need to be nervous— he wasn’t nervous! He’d never be nervous because of Dazai.

A marred hand reached into a drawer to pull out an unwrapped roll of bandages, tossing it back and forth, hand and hand as he walked closer to the ginger before holding his hand out as if he were gifting it. Chuuya’s eyes widened, his eyes darting to the blank one of Dazai. It was blank. No clear information to gain from it. Awkwardly, a lesser scarred hand reached and grabbed the soft fabric, squishing it slightly. It wasn’t itchy; he knows that much. Chuuya was there when the brunette bought them.

A Cheshire-grin etched on too-pale-to-be-healthy skin; a mahogany eye gleaming while he stretched his naked arm out, uncaring of the way his skin pricked and begged to be pulled away.

Gently, Chuuya unwrapped the bandages, wrapping it securely around the arm of its new “owner.” It was quiet, the sound of bandages wrapping around skin filled the room. Chuuya made sure his eyes didn’t linger; he didn’t want to take advantage of such a situation, no, that’d be cruel— even to someone like Dazai.

Arahabaki was calm with the contact. Silenced. Though it was already quiet, any sign of it lingering was gone. Locked away if only temporarily.

Tearing off the bandage, securing the end with a clip Dazai pulled from seemingly nowhere, Chuuya steadily grabbed the other, and repeated the process.

Wrist to forearm. Forearm to wrist. Rip off the excess. Then clip the ends secured. Now thinking about it, Dazai only needed one changed (as far as the ginger could tell), so why did he offer both?

Blue eyes met one brown. They both looked away, feeling strangely intimate. This isn’t intimate, no, it’s a matter of personal trust— is what went through both of their minds. If Chuuya can seek out Dazai during Arahabaki’s fits, surely Dazai can do the same when he’s suffering.

“We should head to class. Don’t want to get into trouble.” Dazai mumbled, still not meeting the ginger’s gaze, but that was fine because there was no gaze to meet; Chuuya was looking elsewhere, too.

“Yeah, no,”

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

It was currently nighttime, and the appropriate punishment given to the duo was last period cleaning. Not anything too bad.

Dazai fiddled with the clips of his clean bandages; he hadn’t noticed how dirty they had gotten earlier. Quite terrible for someone of his intellect, but a fast brain is sure to make errors every once in a while.

Though not his brain. His nails dug into the fabric; it was thick, thankfully, so no recent scars would be opened from such an action.

His brain kept going back to the gentleness in which Chuuya held his arms, but his memory also traveled to why his bandages were dirty anyway:

It was a little after Chuuya had walked away grumpily, rubbing at his temples while telling Dazai to keep his “fishy arms near him(self).” Quite rude if you were to ask Dazai. Very much offended him, hence why he began cackling under his breath.

Watching as the ginger walked away from him amusedly before a slight snicker came from the shadows. Dazai turned his head, unamused with whoever was spying on them. Immediately noticing them; it was some no-name that wasn’t in 1A or 1B.

“You should stop bothering your friend like that, or else he’ll leave you,” they scoffed, crossing their arms like their input meant anything. Dazai didn’t pay them any attention. Offering them a slight hum, he began his merry way away from them as they mumbled something.

Dazai still hadn’t cared and payed no attention to it. Walking to the outside of the school building, lunch boring him and the school feeling stuffy and utterly uninteresting, he skillfully escaped school premises and cameras, stalking away from the building jaded.

Into a back alley he went, away from the potential gazes of the curious as to why a prestigious student wasn’t in school at this time. It was a long time until lunch ends, and Dazai knew he’d be able to make it back in time; he hadn’t gone that far.

Relaxing against a wall, fiddling with the bandages on his arm, loosening them slightly, his un-divided-divided attention was snapped back into reality at the sound of a growl. Looking down, he saw a big, angry mongrel barking at him; it had a spiky color on, along with a leash— your stereotypical angry dog basically, only it was calico— it had a worn color attached to the big, red color, threatening to snap if strained any more. Dazai glared harshly at the mutt; he hated dogs. But he also lacked a gun, and while that may seem cruel— to shoot a dog— it’s self defense in this case. Dazai isn’t so cruel to shoot a dog just because. No, there’s more fun playing psychological games with them and treats.

Tucking his hands in his pockets, Dazai tilted his head, an easy-going smirk on his face as his hair followed the movement, “what? Pissed or something? Where’s your owner? Did they get bored of you? Tut-tut… how terrible,” shaking his head to add emphasis, Dazai promptly walked away from the ungodly creature, sure that the leash would last until he’s out of view. Until it didn’t— the sound was telltale: someone had shot at the leash, snapping it. Dazai turned to find the dog stalking closer to him, growling like the rapid beast it was, yet Dazai couldn’t find it in him to care. No, it solidified his hatred for such putrid creatures even more. Deciding that keeping a limb was better, Dazai calmly walked out of the alley until the dog had gotten tired and started chasing him. Sprinting, Dazai made his way back into U.A. property, maneuvered his way back into the gate, and panted. Tired. He truly does not like physical activity at times, especially when he’s wasting energy on dogs of all things.

Checking his clothes, everything seemed orderly. Just a few wrinkles and dirt spots that could be passed off as tripping, so Dazai made his way back inside, brain too much in a frenzy to properly check himself.

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

If Dazai had to guess after looking back over the events, he’d have to say getting back inside put too much strain on the self-inflicted wounds adorning his arms, opening them, hence the blood. The dirt and peeling were understandable, but now Dazai was racking his brain of all the potential people who could’ve seen them. Nobody comes to mind, thankfully, so he relaxes in his bed, cursing the rapid beast repeatedly internally, but also thanking it because it provided a bonding experience Dazai doesn’t know how to feel about quite yet. until he stiffened again.

Who the hell shot the leash?

Dazai was staring blankly at a wall. The only person he can think of that showed him recent animosity was the person from yesterday, but Dazai had already dealt with them once school was over— leaving them crying and everything— yet it wasn’t them.

His eyes mentally scanned a sea of people before he came to the most logical conclusion: everyone here is innocent; it was an outside hit. Logical. Most sound answer, even.

Dazai sighed, having a lot on his plate already. LoV, traitor, now a dog leash shooter. How troublesome.

Looking over at the ginger, who was busy getting ready— yes, they were in his dorm— he seemed in a more likable mood than yesterday, so Dazai was about to bother him before Chuuya initiated the conversation.

“We need to get this traitor situation on a roll, Mori won’t stop blowing up my phone,” Dazai nodded, not paying much attention.

“‘Medical records and student files.”

“What?”

“Medical records and student files. They reveal the most about someone,” Dazai waved a hand, not caring about the glare Chuuya is boring within his soul, “we can also go snooping through their rooms, but that’ll take the most effort.”

“Hidden mics, perhaps?” Dazai pondered the idea before agreeing.

“Only in the most suspicious.”

“Duh, dumbass.” There wasn’t much bickering in the interaction, but that was fine. Everything was fine.

Quickly, Dazai scanned through his recent memories for anything that could be a clue. Saving Eri, going to the hospital, getting “scolded” by the principal, midnight asking for their hero names— which they did give, by the way. It’s Soukoku, or some shit— Arahabaki screeching in Chuuya’s head, that random person from the hallway, leaving school, getting chased by a dog. Yeah, nothing comes to mind.

Chuuya eyed him suspiciously, now catching onto his odd behavior, “you okay, you piece of shit?” Truly such a Chuuya thing to say.

Dazai turned his gaze over to the ginger, a sly smile echoing his face. Echoing because it didn’t truly feel there, but rather an afterimage. It didn’t fit his face.

“As wonderful as ever, chibikko~!” He didn’t buy it, rolling his eyes slightly.

“Does it have anything to do with your bandages?” Chuuya questioned, fixing his tie before tidying his hair.

“Meh,” Chuuya took it as a sort of-kind of. Dazai sighed, knowing the ginger was going to find this hilarious, but if this person is sending a hit on him, there’s a risk they know Chuuya, too, “yesterday I had left the school, came across an aggressive dog, more brutish than you, someone shot their leash, and I ran for my life away from your kin. Keep your family in check, slug.” Scoffed the brunette, watching as Chuuya snorted before cackling, hands in his stomach.

“And that’s why you’re pissy? Because a dog made you exercise some?” Chuuya turned to him amused.

“No, it’s because someone shot the leash; I didn’t see them.” Chuuya cocked an eyebrow, tilting his head.

“Do you think it’s anyone here?”

“No, the person I initially assumed was innocent— and a crybaby.”

“Yeah, well, your way of interrogating makes anyone a crybaby,” Chuuya scoffed, “wait— you didn’t torture anyone, right?” Dazai didn’t answer, making Chuuya facepalm, “you know we aren’t supposed to cause bodily harm to the students, right?”

“Hence why it wasn’t bodily harm! I merely played a trick on their mind— simple!” Dazai raised his hands in a surrendering motion. Chuuya rolled his eyes, grumbling under his breath.

The room went quiet. Dazai went back to his thoughts, and Chuuya finishing getting ready. They truly didn’t care they had to stay after class to clean; it could be a good way to figure things out and snoop around.

The sound of shuffling provided good background noise for Dazai while he began humming softly with the noise, swaying side to side gently.

The sound of plastic hitting the ground pulled Dazai’s attention to the present once more. A dull, red-wine eye looking uninterested at the cause and Chuuya cursing under his breath.

“Clumsy slug…” mumbled the brunette, a teasing grin stretching his lips. The ginger flipped him off, reaching down to grab his hairbrush, “is Arahabaki still bothering you?”

“…” Chuuya took some time to answer, perhaps not expecting the brunette to give a damn with all the teasing sent his way, “no, but I figured out the issue.”

“Really? Care to inform me?”

“Nah, I’d rather not give you something to be jolly about,” snarled the older, glaring lightly at the brunette, who promptly buffed his cheeks. As Dazai opened his mouth, a knocking sound was heard.

It went quiet before Dazai grinned.

“Are you going to answer the door? Oh, or do you want me to answer it? Have them all spe–” Chuuya put his hand to Dazai’s face, pushing him backwards on the bed he sat on. Scoffing, the ginger went to open the door before Dazai could begin whining.

“Ye– oh, good morning, Aizawa-Sensei,” Chuuya bowed, confused as the why the teacher was here.

“Good morning, Chuuya-San, is Dazai-San in here? I went to his room but there was no answer.” Chuuya’s mind stopped as he processed the words. There wasn’t anything inherently wrong about them, but Dazai’s bandages were soiled yesterday; if anyone saw and reported it, it’ll be a pain for the brunette— not that Chuuya cares or anything. That’d be silly, to care for his rival.

“I’m here~! Is there anything the matter?” Dazai slung himself around Chuuya, his eyes narrowing once he noticed Aizawa doing a quick scan over his well-being.

Aizawa nodded, content.

“I was made to come get you for something private; Nezu himself set it up, so you can’t refuse.” Dazai’s eyebrows furrowed, his lips pursed as he glanced at Chuuya, who had— if not the same— a similar expression.

Nodding, Dazai reluctantly detached himself from the ginger and began following after their homeroom teacher, avoiding the curious gazes of his classmates that were busy either packing their things or eating.

“Did something happen, Aizawa-Sensei?” Midoriya asked, hoping that one of his classmates wasn’t in dire trouble.

“Nothing that concerns the rest of you,” Aizawa answered, leaving the dormitory. Dazai followed after like an obedient duckling, not making one joking remark which set off red flags in all his classmates minds.

Dazai was racking his brain for potential reasons— the person he made cry yesterday could be a good factor, but he didn’t do anything but make them cry at the fact dogs get shot every single day— not even in a cruel way; he merely walked up to them, talked about dogs, and shifted the tone to a more saddening one to lower any defenses as he asked them well-hidden questions about the dog from yesterday. It came back they didn’t know anything and instead began panicking at the possibility of someone shooting at dogs while crying because they have a dog back home, and wanted to make sure they were safe. Simple.

Was it him leaving the school’s premises? Nah, he made sure to dodge any cameras on his small journey, and he’s sure he would’ve been called much sooner if that was the case.

His bandages…? No, it couldn’t be that; he made sure there weren’t anyone around, but then he remembered invisible people existed, and it happened around lunch time. Ah fuck.

“If I may ask, Aizawa, what is this about?” Dazai immediately dropped the honorifics, staring suspiciously at the man.

“It will be explained once we arrive; I myself don’t know much, and Nezu only said I’d be informed once I brought you.” Ah, smart. Damn bear-koala-mouse-thingy— fucking mongrel! And not the dog from yesterday— the principal!

They made their way to the principal’s office, and inside was Nezu. Dazai glared harshly at him. Crossing his arms, an eyebrow raised— well, his only visible one— he scanned over his hire to know why he’s here.

Nezu had a gentle smile on his face that showed many but hid just as much, if not more.

“Dazai-kun, wonderful to see you here,” Nezu greeted, his arms resting on his desk. Dazai have a nod, “please, have a seat.” Dazai did as told, leaning on his arm while he rested his head on his hand, bored.

Aizawa sat next to him, quietly, wanting to know why Dazai was called.

“Now, Dazai, I know you said you didn’t appreciate me mentioning it, but because you are here as a temporary student, it is my responsibility to make sure nothing is going on, especially because of your job as a bodyguard,” Nezu smiled as he spoke, picking up a teacup and sipping from it.

“Uh-huh,”

“Yesterday, a student, who wishes to not be named, had saw you walking through the halls a tad dirty. The most concerning part was the blood seeping through your bandages,” Nezu explained; Aizawa looked at the brunette concerned, Dazai payed him no mind, “if you ever need anyone to talk to, we are available. I can even assign a teacher here to be a therapist for you, if you–”

“The offer is lovely, but no need; it’s not any of your business, nor should it strike concern.” Dazai leaned back in his chair, waving his hand animatedly as he spoke.

Standing up from his chair, he continued, “I’m only here on a job. Not for some wellness check. Bye-bye~, call me when you have something more serious going for you.” Aizawa’s mouth dropped open while Nezu stared at him incredulously. Sighing, placing down his teacup with a small clink, Nezu laughed slightly.

“I can easily send you back; your partner is the real force between the two of you, so if you continue to endanger your health, sending you back wouldn’t be a problem,” Nezu sort of boasted as a way to get Dazai to reconsider, “if you leave out that door, you are required to not attend school until further notice.” Dazai stopped in his tracks, turned, and shrugged. He couldn’t give a fuck. Wow, this was the first time he’s ever gotten suspended. How lucky of him.

“Alright, go ahead. I hope you know the slug is dearly loyal and will follow me back,” Smiling sweetly, the two stared at each other. Smiling. Aizawa sat awkwardly in the unbreathable tension, “besides, he may be the force, but I’m still the brains. The only reason we were able to “rescue” Eri—” he made quotation marks with his fingers. While they may have brought the girl to a better place, now she’s going to get plagued by one-sided ideology of good and bad. Not really saving in Dazai’s book, but hey— “was because of my plan. Good day.”

Snatching the door open, it slammed shut not to long after, leaving the two in a thickly tense room. Nezu wasn’t pleased despite the look on his face, and Aizawa wanted to be dismissed.

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

Following Nezu’s orders, Dazai hadn’t gone to class. Instead, he waltzed inside the dormitory, to his room, and promptly changed his clothes, falling face first in his bed. He would go and see how the LoV is doing, you know, to make sure they’re not plotting anything idiotic, but the mongrel has his eyes on him. Whether Nezu is aware Dazai knows is a mystery and whether the creature even knows he has his sights on the brunette is a mystery, too. Not one Dazai is keen on finding out; his interest in the matter is lacking.

Checking his phone, there were numerous unanswered texts.

Slug🐌🐶

Old Man👶

Cat Post

Deciding that dealing with the slug was more bearable than the last two, he clicked on the ginger’s contact.

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

Slug🐌🐶

What did Aizawa need?

Dumb bastard! Why is there itching power in my shirt?

Ah, slug! It seems you found my gift! The last time I put itching powder in your clothes, you hadn’t reacted properly!

Anyway, not much. Quite boring truly. Won’t be at school today.

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

Old Man👶

Dazai-Kun, it’s rude to leave your boss on read. Please provide a report on the situation with the traitor and LoV. Thank you. (Read)

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

Cat Post

Must_Look.zip

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

Dazai stared curiously at the file, tapping on it before his eyes narrowed immensely. A scowl made its way to his face and a scoff threatened to follow, too.

The file included photos of Dazai in U.A. clothing. Not too bad, but considering who sent them, this could screw up the entire situation.

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

Cat Post

I’m guessing you were the one who shot at the dog leash? Or at least ordered the shot?

How smart. Explain. Now.

I don’t see how you can boss me around since I’m the one who initiated this little work together. But fine.

This is a mere matter of bad timing. You see, I’m spying on U.A. to have deeper intel on the heroes.

And you didn’t believe to mention this to us?

There isn’t a reason to. It’s not for your gain, but rather mine. So, leave it.

Do you guys honestly believe I should stop my own plot simply because I’m assisting you with yours? Pathetic.

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

It took a while for the other to reply, so Dazai assumed it was the end of the conversation, or he’d gotten pissy and disintegrated his phone.

Dazai pursed his lips, pissy himself that those fools had sicced a dog on him.

So now his relationships with the LoV and principal is rocky. That is fine; he’s had harsher odds to complete a mission in.

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

Chuuya stared at the message the mackerel sent to him. He wouldn’t come to class. What was that about? As he was about to shoot another text to him, someone cleared their throat, scaring him a bit.

“Oh, sup,” Chuuya waved slightly to Mina, who was leaning over his desk; the rest of the bakusquad behind her.

“What’s the deal with Dazai? We saw him leaving with Aizawa-Sensei today,” Mina inquired, hoping to gain details from the brunette’s most trusted person. Chuuya thought about all the possibilities, but none of them were ones that would put Dazai in a good light, so he shrugged, even tilted his head with the movement for some emphasis, “ah, really?”

“Perhaps he finally did something that warrants trouble,” Bakugo grumbled, still pissed at the lack of apology. Understandable, but he’s not going to get one from the brunette. Perhaps if he was Odasaku, he’d have more luck, but alas, he’s not an air-headed 20-year-old red-head. Not that Chuuya knows much about Odasaku himself, but the 5’3” mafioso could’ve sworn he’s heard Dazai mutter an apology to the man before (though it fell on deaf ears pertaining the man). It was revolutionary. Short. But life changing.

“Well, if he did, then karma is good,” Chuuya snorted; half-meaning and half-not meaning it since the fish could get extremely grumpy or dull when faced with certain consequences. Not that he can’t take accountability, no, Dazai, in fact, makes it known that he did what he did with zero regrets, but the moment someone like Hirotsu denies taking over his video game(s), boom! Whiny Dazai is in the building for Chuuya to deal with. Annoying. Truly.

“Hey, Chuuya, do you like hats?” Chuuya looked confused as to where the question came from; he knows Mina is aware of his hat stand, but it’s still quite random. Not odd, but unexpected.

“Yeah, why?” Kaminari grinned, going over to Yaoyorozu, who immediately handed him a box.

“Well, since when you first joined this class, the welcome we gave perhaps wasn’t as welcoming— I mean, we did have a mock battle— so we asked Yaomomo to make gifts for you and Dazai!” Chuuya hesitantly grabbed the box, the experience of too many people planting bombs or poisonous gas biting away at him, stopping him from accepting the gift normally, but Chuuya knows they took it as him being unsure.

Opening the box, inside was a red bowler hat with a feather attached to the red ribbon wrapped around it. It was gorgeous and would surely go on his hat stand.

Smiling at each giver, he bowed slightly— just the way Kouyou taught him— and gave his personal thanks.

“No, problem!” Mina boasted, “we’d have to give Dazai’s when he gets here!” Unexpectedly, some random student entered the class, asking for Chuuya to come to the principal's office. Now the ginger was heavily confused; he’s certain he hadn’t done anything to warrant trouble.

His classmates stared at him curiously, but he genuinely couldn’t provide an explanation, his own confused face informing them that he’s as unaware as a newborn baby, too.

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

Chuuya entered the office bewildered as to why he was called.

Nezu wasn’t as cheerful as the last few times he’d saw the creature, but he still did his best to have a welcoming atmosphere, and Aizawa was sitting across from him.

“Good morning, Chuuya-Kun. If you may, have a seat. I’d like to ask you questions regarding Dazai-Kun.”

“Couldn’t you have this conversation with him?” Chuuya asked, taking a seat regardless of what he had to say. This was his temporary employer so he should listen. Considering the way they winced, they tried, and it hadn’t gone their way.

“We tried, but we said the wrong words, and he left.” Nezu looked ashamed.

“And him not showing up to school has something to do with it?” Interrogated the youngest in the room. Nezu nodded.

“We put him on leave.” Now Chuuya was confused. It’s one thing for Dazai to not show up after being offended, but to be put on leave? On a mission?

Just as Chuuya was about to ask why, Nezu beat him to it.

“Does Dazai have self-harming tendencies? We tried to ignore it in the beginning, deeming it injuries from past jobs of his—” makes sense, they are acting as bodyguards— “but a student had mentioned seeing blood seeping through his bandages yesterday.” Ah, how out of it was the fish to not notice that? Chuuya will admit that the usual demeanor Dazai displayed yesterday eased his worries, but it appears the mackerel is rather unreliable.

Chuuya kept quiet, wanting to lie, but the creature in front of him was much smarter than him, and would see through it the moment he exhaled.

They took that as a ‘yes.’

“And what about suicidal tendencies?” Aizawa finally spoke, his voice sounding a tad rough like Dazai was a child of his. Raw and fatherly. It felt natural, too, not the tones the mafia’s victims would try to use to stop their demise.

Chuuya eased, yet still kept quiet. Whether he spoke the truth or lied, they’d figure it out, so being quiet was the best option because he didn’t confirm or deny anything; it’ll all be assumptions on their part— well, it would’ve but–

“You’re his partner, but you don’t inform us of things like that? My apologies if that sounds rude or blaming because I can understand why,” Nezu began, “not wanting to break the trust between the two of you— the both of you probably, only recently, reached a newer understanding, so to break it so early would be terrible.”

Chuuya gritted his teeth; he hated being read like this.

“Yet, alas, keeping such a thing from us makes us question how reliable he’d be in keeping our students safe. When I hired the both of you, your boss only told me he’d have the two of you ready for dispatch. That was it. But the point of this is to see if a therapist or suicide watch would–”

“No, neither is needed. I’ve been with him for a while now, so I believe I’m the most qualified to watch over him, and if he didn’t agree to it, it’s best to not force it on him,” Chuuya stood from his seat, dusting off his pants, “if that’s all, I’m leaving.” It took the souls if 1000x Kouyou’s to stop him from cursing them out, but he managed. The scarlet-haired woman would be proud. Perhaps not that proud of Arahabaki, who was promising screeches of destruction.

But it was the audacity of it all; if they’re boss says they’re ready for dispatch, then they’re ready for fucking dispatch. Why do these people butt into things so much?

30 minutes after Chuuya went back to class is how long it took for people to know of Dazai’s suspension, mostly because Chuuya told them himself, too pissed about the ordeal to keep it low-key; people were curious, as always, yet Chuuya couldn’t provide any probable explanations to rest their nerves. Turns out, once this class cares for you, anything happening to you worries them. It’s sweet. Honestly. Well, until it lasted, and the resident pervert had to get his two cents in.

“Honestly, I’m kinda happy to not see him for some time,” Mineta blurted, grabbing everyone’s attention as they stared at him with disgust. Truthfully, Chuuya had forgotten he existed with how quiet he was being. His threat to plummet him sure did wonders, it seems, “I mean, imagine how creepy he was being toward the girls with those bandages on— and no one would know!” He then proceeded to go on a rant about how Dazai was a pervert just as bad as him, making others scrunch their noses at such baseless accusations leaving his pathetic mouth. Who allowed this man into the school again? And where did this even come from exactly?

“I’d shut my trap if I were you,” Chuuya glared harshly at the gnome, standing behind him menacingly. If he needed to beat the kid’s ass, the first-period teacher had yet to arrive, so Chuuya could make some time.

Mineta turned around, shaking, yet stupidly cocksure. Chuuya remembered how, in the beginning, before he initially scolded [read: threatened] the gnome, how he’d grow a pair of balls before getting them squished by the angry girls in their class; it made Chuuya happy to know his ego doesn’t last very much.

“Y-You’re just saying that because you know it’s true! How hypocritical…” the teen complained, looking as if he’d stomp his foot, but his shortening dignity wouldn’t let him. Chuuya leaned down in the kid’s face, his glare turning icy in the process. The face that made all of his enemies cower whenever he wasn’t in his typical “let’s fight” mood.

“Wrong; Dazai may be an oddball, but he doesn’t grope or peak inappropriately at women. Why? Because he’s not some degenerate that hadn’t felt a mother’s love.” Chuuya snarled like a dog, making his ancestors proud as he stared down at Mineta, who began looking pale where he stood. Is he going to faint? Chuuya hoped no one would catch him. Mineta opened his mouth as if to defend himself, but Chuuya stopped him. “It’s honestly pathetic; you couldn’t say it while he was here because you know it’s not true. Who allowed you to be born?” Cruel, he knows. The gasps that left his classmates mouths allowed him to know, but he couldn’t give any fucks or shits.

Mineta’s mouth was quivering now, and tears pricked his eyes. Chuuya could only laugh, yet he didn’t, still leveling a death-wish-filled glare at the teen.

“Besides, where did you even get the idea?” Chuuya knows Dazai hadn’t been on his usual tirade of double suicide confessions with women recently; he’d been too busy working his brain to think about his second suicide option despite the first— suicide alone— always being on his mind.

“H-he just looks the type…” Mineta muttered, lowering his head; the poor kid wanted to get away, but Chuuya couldn’t give a damn. Scoffing, Chuuya rolled his eyes and walked to his desk, muttering a small “pathetic” along the way for good measure.

Now the entire class was looking between them, but none bothered to go comfort the shorter, knowing he was in the wrong completely, instead, they continued with their conversations, some even making a joke out of the situation, finally happy to have a “saint” in the class to properly stand up for the women— even though they could do it themselves, yet their complaints always fell on deaf ears.

Mina walked over to him, holding back some laughs as she stood in front of his desk, the rest of the girls in his class followed, too.

“Thank you so much for that— seriously! The second time you had to put him in his place and it’s just as hilarious as the first!” Mina cackled, uncaring of the way Mineta looked back, betrayed at the confession that they found his suffering funny.

“Yes, but if I may advise, please be a bit gentler when telling him off; it’d be a shame if you got in trouble. Kero.” Tsuyu commented. She too, was uncaring of the stare sent her way. She was always blunt and Chuuya liked that about her; she didn’t give a damn.

“Yeah, but if I was gentle with it, it’d go across his head and off with the wind,” Chuuya mumbled, leaning back in his chair. The girls had to agree with him, remembering how their efforts didn’t work despite how much they repeatedly told him to stop or even injured the shorter. It’s perhaps the reason that Mineta knows they won’t do anything too serious to him considering the city they were born and raised in, but since Chuuya wasn’t born or raised in Musutafu, rather a city rumored for its violence, it’s more likely for him to follow through with his threats.

“I suspect you don’t like others talking bad about Dazai?”

“And the same could be said about him towards me,” Chuuya mumbled, confirming the guess; he’d never say it aloud to the brunette, no, it’s a silent agreement of theirs that’s been there ever since the Assassin King’s reign, which makes Chuuya even happier that Dazai is now trusting him with his bandages; it’s like he’s gaining his complete trust instead of being stuck in the same spot for years to come. It makes his heart pound rapidly. Perhaps Mina was right about her guess, but if he came to that conclusion and admitted it, he’d be very embarrassed since he snapped at her (them) for continuously making jokes about their relationship.

Mina opened her mouth to comment, but closed it, not wanting to piss off the ginger like last time, yet Chuuya wasn’t having it; he already apologized, and they came to an understanding; he should grow a thicker skin to those jokes.

“C’mon, let’s hear it.” Mina’s face brightened, and a wide grin cracked on her features.

“Like true soulmates~,” she crooned, and Chuuya found himself unexpectedly smiling at the comment. She squealed. Wow, this is the most normal he’s ever felt in his entire life. Too bad once this is over with, the trust and understanding built between them will have gone down with the corpses of the past, present, and future like damn Ebenezer Scrooge.

Conversation was light, Chuuya even found time to look over his classmates and pick whichever ones he found to be suspicious. Candidates for U.A. traitor, if you want to be blunt about it.

Toru Hagakure — self-explanatory; she’s invisible, so she could make a good spy.

Yuga Aoyama — there’s something off about him; he’s funny with his dramatic phrasing, but other than that, he’s awfully lonely, and he lacks control of his quirk. Not like Midoriya, who had his quirk passed down— Chuuya was informed the day, or night, Dazai broke into his room and insulted him for his drooling. Quite annoying— and over time, learned how to work with it, but blatant lack of control, and too frequent stomach aches for someone who was supposedly born with it. Shouldn’t his body modify itself to support it like everyone else’s? He’d have to sneak his medical files.

Mezo Shoji — His quirk is good for spying. Not much merit since he’s incredibly selfless, but who knows? People are also fearful of his appearance, Chuuya noticed the way none 1A students would sort of avoid him with palish expressions. That’s a good motive to be a traitor.

Kaminari Denki — is rather dull in the mind category, yet he has vivid details of things that don’t make sense for him to have. Wouldn’t be a surprise if he was the traitor and acted dumb on purpose while spewing important shit to make himself less suspicious; it wouldn’t be the first time Chuuya met someone of that nature.

The teacher, Toshinori Yagi, formerly known as All Might, walked in late, and apologized immensely for his lack of timing; he even got scolded by Iida, which Chuuya found funny; he doesn’t think he’d ever have the courage to scold Ane-San whenever she’s late.

“Please provide a reasonable explanation for your tardiness!” Chuuya leaned in his chair, watching the former top #1 hero stammer out his speech like their roles were reversed and he hadn’t the authority to shut it down; it’s nice. To see adults treating teens like their time matters, too, Chuuya means. It’s extremely nice. If this was Mori, he’d scoff, sending whoever dared speak to him in such a way a creepy smile and possibly a one-way ticket to the dungeon.

“I was being informed of young Dazai’s suspension— all of your teachers were, so please, forgive me!” Yagi bowed, placing his hands above his hand in search of forgiveness. There was the mention of Dazai’s suspension again, and so the other students took it upon their liberation to ask; it couldn’t hurt, right?

“Sir, why was Dazai-Kun suspended? He hasn’t done anything wrong!” Iida declared, the rest of the class agreeing, even Bakugo nodded his head, annoyed with the school and their way of doing things at times.

“Ah, well, I don’t know if I should say; it’s rather serious…” Yagi swallowed hard; when he heard of the reason, he found it cruel. You shouldn’t punish someone for being suicidal and not wanting to receive help, even if something deep within him told him that wasn’t all, that was the baseline of it. Nezu could be unexplainably cruel at times, but All Might is sure he has his reasons… probably.

The class exploded at the comment, demanding an answer before Todoroki stood up this time, startling everyone.

“I believe it’s best if we leave it and wait for Dazai, himself, to inform us.” The half-and-half quirk user suggested, calming everyone down with the reasonability of his suggestion.

The class calmed and Yagi sighed relieved, happy he wouldn’t have to speak of such a topic since it didn’t appear young Dazai wanted anyone to know of his issues— besides Chuuya, apparently, who sent Todoroki a grateful smile, too.

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

A day had passed since Dazai’s suspension, and while the previous day felt odd without the usual bickering of the cat and dog duo, this one felt even more odd since Aizawa looked visibly ashamed of himself. Chuuya knew the reason for it, too, considering the teacher had spoke to him privately at lunch the other day, apologizing for his assistance in Dazai’s suspension and that he’d try to convince Nezu that there isn’t anything to worry about. Which there wasn’t. Dazai’s suicidal behavior hadn’t been a hindrance to the mission— yet (because the brunette will always find a way to sneak an attempt in)— and the boss had been extremely dissatisfied with the turn of events, complaining that Dazai hadn’t even informed him of such a change, which shocker, Chuuya supposed. Though, the boss had said he’d handle it, now that Chuuya was thinking with a clear mind; he could see where Nezu was coming from— not that it excuses his behavior or anything. People in hero society really have a way of being so damn nosy, do they? — to a certain degree since what if Dazai tries to commit and the class ends up in danger that requires mind work to remove them from? Not the most ideal even though Chuuya couldn’t give a damn about ideal.

And then the most annoying thing happened:

Chuuya wanted to speak with the brunette privately once school was over, but due to him being on suspension, and not any normal one, but rather an investigative one, Chuuya wasn’t permitted to speak with the brunette. So, fucking dumb. And why would this need an investigation?! Who knows?

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

Nezu sat at his desk, drinking some tea, and checking the time when his phone ranged. Gently lowering his teacup, he answered the phone with a cheery tone, an inkling of who it was on the other end.

“Mori-San, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Nezu could hear the displeased sigh despite how quiet it was.

“This call isn’t on record, correct?” Nezu answered honestly: a no, “well, Nezu, I heard you have one of my agents on leave. Why?”

“Because their lack of concern for themselves could be a safety risk for my students. I’m only thinking of them. Of course,” Nezu answered honestly, this not being the first time he gave unjustifiable punishments to students for the sake of the others, “however, that is not the only reason; you see, I have my other suspicions, but I couldn’t say them out right. He probably already figured out my second motive; he is incredibly smart for his age, but it’s better to not risk anything. And I’m sure you’re aware of what I’m suggesting.”

Mori hummed, acknowledging the accusation sent his way, “I don’t know what you speak of,” His tone was the same. No changes evident in it, but Nezu was an animal of intelligence, “if you could, please inform me of this sudden accusation directed at my employee.”

“Gladly, I suspect he’s in cahoots with the League of Villains.” Mori hummed again, his demeanor never changing. Instead, he smacked his lips, puffing out some air carelessly.

“And this proof?”

“None of your concern. This is in my technical territory, so your assistance isn’t needed. Bias is the laws worst enemy.” Nezu grinned, leaning into the phone slightly.

“All I hear is you are lacking in that department, so please take Dazai-Kun off leave so he can complete his job. You know the people you hired; would be a shame to have it revealed to the public,” Nezu pursed his lips, but it seemed odd since he’s an animal, “I’ll take that silence as agreement. Thank you. Have a good day, mutt.” The call died, leaving a dull noise until Nezu turned it off. His beady eyes were dull, and if he had eyebrows, they’d be furrowed.

How troublesome. He will admit, his evidence was lacking. The brunette did his best to avoid cameras whenever he could, or was that a subconscious act? Didn’t matter, but any form of physical evidence of this team up— something that goes against the reason he hired them— was nonexistent. A mere gut feeling he couldn’t present to the teachers because the kid himself is smart, so he could easily turn this into a stale mate where the one with the most support wins instead of evidence being the defying factor.

And despite the kid’s cell being connected to the internet, there were numerous things avoiding even the most skillful hacker in U.A. from breaching his phone, and if he asked for the object in person, who knows what safety measures are directly installed onto it?

Yes, Nezu does feel a tad bit awful for using his suicidal tendencies as a way to get more evidence against him, but it was the best opening— all he could hope was for it to be contained since this making it to the public wouldn’t be good no matter his intentions.

╔═══°∴,*⋅✲══〖✰〗══✲⋅*,∴°═══╗ Two day later ╚═══°∴,*⋅✲══〖✰〗══✲⋅*,∴°═══╝

It didn’t take long for Nezu to personally apologize for Dazai— still offering mental services, which were declined immediately— and allowing the brunette to return to normal schedule. Two days to be exact. Two days of Dazai being “grounded” to his dorm while Nezu had to re-evaluate whether it would be a good idea to have a suicide fanatic as a bodyguard. Truly stupid. Suicidal people are the best bodyguards there is! #1 self-sacrificers.

Anyway, Dazai, in the time he was locked away, deleted any chat logs involving Shigaraki, no longer finding amusement in texting the overgrown brat. If he wants to speak with him, he’d go in person or find some unlucky messenger because the LoV do seem like the folk to kill the messenger. Fortunately, the other reason was that something clicked within Dazai’s brain and the possibility of Nezu being closer to finding out the tainted alliance between him and the LoV became a real threat. He’d have to get more security measures on his phone in case he loses possession of it. That was an error on Nezu’s part, not taking his phone, but because the suspension was due to him being suicidal, that would seem unnecessary and even the teachers here can take only so much bullshit in front of them.

Sadly. Chuuya also seemed heavily displeased with the events, too, since he immediately began complaining about it to the brunette via text, especially the part where he couldn’t even visit the brunette. Dazai hadn’t felt the need to mention the threat the principal gave him, either, since Chuuya beefing with an animal (even more), while hilarious, would slow things, and if Nezu suspected him, too, then all his reactions would be reliable because goddamn is the slug so easy to read.

Another part of their texts included the ginger being displeased with Dazai, himself, since that meant he had to clean the class all by himself the day Dazai was initially suspended, but if it makes him happy, then Dazai is in charge of cleaning the class by himself today to make up for that punishment. Dazai hoped that would get the older to stop dry texting him.

And, as much as Dazai wishes to joke about his dog being useless without its owner, Chuuya did in fact gain some information on potential candidates, with his own reasons as to why. Such a smarter puppy he’s becoming!

Toru Hagakure — self explanatory; she’s invisible, so she could make a good spy.

Yuga Aoyama — there’s something off about him; he’s funny with his dramatic phrasing, but other than that, he’s awfully lonely. There was also some other stuff included about his quirk being very incompatible with his body.

Mezo Shoji — His quirk is good for spying. Not much merit since he’s incredibly selfless, but who knows?

Kaminari Denki — rather dull in the mind category, yet he has vivid details of things.

All very plausible candidates according to Chuuya and his extensive watching of their actions. Wonderful job, dog. Dazai won’t ever tell him that, though.

Walking into the classroom, Dazai immediately noted how much effort he’d have to put in order to get to the same level of friendly with everyone. Chuuya was currently socializing with half of the class at once, heck, they didn’t even have their usual morning meetup to discuss things because he was dragged away by his friend group. No biggy. Walking to his seat, Yaoyorozu perked up and greeted him happily.

“Good morning, Dazai-Kun, happy to see you back from suspension.” The room’s atmosphere turned dull from the greeting; they weren’t even informed of what he did, only to not interact with him until further notice, so of course they couldn’t help but think he did something illegal— which isn’t far off, but they don’t know that.

“Hm.” Dazai nodded, sitting down a tad peeved with the atmosphere change. Chuuya was vexed, too, if his face was anything to go by, just by the recollection of events.

“What did you even do, dude?” Kirishima asked, walking over to him with Kaminari in tow. Dazai had to think about his answer “be suicidal” would be his go-to answer if this was the mafia and it was Mori who was pissed with him, but it’s not.

“A mere misunderstanding that was resolved today. Principal Nezu already apologized to me,” Was what he settled with. Everyone sighed, relieved it wasn’t anything serious despite them being instructed to not be involved with Dazai for the time being, before they all crowded Dazai’s desk to fill him in on the last two days events, along with the day he initially got in trouble. There was no need for that; his dog was keeping him entertained during his “imprisonment” (or trying to), but the gesture was appreciated nonetheless, he supposed.

Honestly, Dazai was happy; he assumed he’d have to put in 2x the amount of effort, but it seems Chuuya warmed them up enough that he doesn’t have to.

The chatter was smooth, only stopping once Aizawa entered to give a brief summary of what was expected of them today, along with the upcoming school festival they had to prepare for, and then sleeping. Dazai couldn’t help but notice the way his gaze seemed to linger on him. It made him sick.

Once the chatter picked up its pace again, Midoriya awkwardly beelined to Dazai, most likely trying to keep up with their new habit of talking about quirks and abilities. Yes, that was the official way Dazai had decided to try and bond with the kid; it was incredibly effective.

“I’ve been doing some research on abilities— quite hard to find anything worth writing— but there was this article; it was extremely encrypted and hard to understand, but what are singularities?” Midoriya questioned, and Chuuya’s eyes widened, looking between the brunette and grass-haired teen. Time seemed to slow, but Dazai kept his expression calm.

“What article was it?”

“Not anything too valuable to mention, but it mentioned singularities once, but never went in depth about them,” scratching his neck, notebook available, the entire class stared at the interaction. If Dazai had to guess, it was probably made by some poor soul in Yokohama’s government trying to expose them for their misdoings and wrongful fundings. They’re perhaps long dead now.

“Singularities are a mere hypothesis. Possible, but not tested to be true due to how dangerous they’re thought to be.”

“But it wasn’t mentioned as a hypothetical…”

“Then the person who wrote the article probably did it to trick folk. Anyone in Yokohama with or without an ability knows singularities don’t exist.”

“But what are they?”

“Hard to say, the person who created the idea hadn’t gone into depth of their thought process.” Midoriya nodded, accepting the answer, not noticing how contradictory the excuses were. “Anyone in Yokohama with or without an ability knows singularities don’t exist,” and “the person who created the idea hadn’t gone into depth of their thought process,” doesn’t exactly go together because how do you know something doesn’t exist if the creator didn’t go into depth? A singularity could be breathing for all they know— well, for all those who don’t know.

Chuuya let out a relieved breath, going back to chatting with Kirishima, who was boasting about something the ginger did yesterday. How boring.

Then Mineta had to open his mouth, killing the peace Dazai had installed within himself.

“You know, Dazai, I see through you!” The short teen declared, confusing the fuck out of Dazai as he’s missing the context. Working his brain to come to a logical conclusion, it most likely has something to do with perversity.

“Eh?”

“Don’t act confused! Those bandages are just a way to hide your sneaky glances toward women and their cleavages!” Chuuya glared harshly at the boy, but he had to give it to the kid; he’s not so cowardly after all. Dazai narrowed his eyes, tilting his head slightly at the accusation.

“And how do you suggest that to be possible?”

“See-through bandages! I’ve noticed you staring at the females of this class when you think no one is noticing! But I’ve noticed, and Chuuya tried defending you, but his perception of you is hollow!” Mineta seemed desperate to get the accusation out, his face red, gross, and horny as if this was some fantasy he’s had cooking in that rotten brain of his for some time. Chuuya tried to get up from his seat, perhaps tired of the shorter and wanting to send him to hell personally, but Kirishima stopped him, not wanting the ginger to get into trouble with the school.

Dazai, head still tilted, just laughed. This was honestly hilarious. Top ten jokes! Sadly, if he were in the mafia and accused him of such a thing, he’d have a shiny bullet in his skull right about now. Pity.

“I don’t know what deranged thoughts go through that deranged, socially challenged head of yours, but you confused yourself with me and I don’t appreciate that. Rather, I know a woman back at home, who, while not like me very much, would beat my ass in a second if I disrespect a woman, so please tread carefully; you already have a due date with her.” A grin formed on his lips, scaring the kid out of his deranged fantasy, the nosebleed quite literally stopping at the expression aimed at him.

“And you say see through bandages, but that makes you seem childish; I wear bandages on this eye because I’m blind in it and light irritates it. Transparent bandages would defeat its purpose,” Dazai pointed at the off-white fabric wrapped around his right eye, “so please explain to me how I’ll be able to see out of it. Come on, share with the class, o’ investigator-kun.” Now everyone— sans Chuuya— stared at the teenager incredulously; the knowledge that the boy had indirectly turned someone’s disability into a perving matter not sitting well in their chests. Bakugo scoffed; the girls glared; Todoroki looked displeased, his eyes narrowing; and everyone else wanted to scold him.

Mineta cowered under their intense gazes, sputtering out a reply that never came. Dazai grinned, yet it didn’t meet his eyes.

“What is it?” Egged in the brunette, but Mineta just squawked, going to hide his face in his desk. Iida marched over to the teen’s desk and began scolding him harshly, making everyone grin at the way the small teen started to shake with tears. It was hard to pity considering Aizawa warned the kid about making assuming comments.

Uraraka walked over to Dazai’s desk with an apologetic expression.

“We’re sorry he said those things to you, and that you felt the need to reveal your blindness–”

“Ah, no need, I don’t care if people know about my blindness; I just like to keep it hidden,” Dazai grinned, tilting his head as he rested it on his stretched-out arms like a cat. Uraraka nodded before her expression lightened.

“We also have a gift for you!” Dazai’s face turned blank, a small, confused smile being the only thing present.

“Eh?”

Midoriya happily brought it over; it was a box filled with numerous books about psychological and philosophical books. Dazai stared confused at the gift; it wasn’t a normal occurrence someone gifted him something unless they wanted something in return. Taking the box from them, Midoriya began explaining, giving the same reasoning that Chuuya received when he’d gotten his gift. Dazai nodded, understanding where they were coming from, yet still unsure of how to react. He quickly thanked Yaoyorozu, who too, helped make the gifts, and the others for being so thoughtful before closing the box, neatly putting it aside on his desk.

Aizawa awoken from his slumber and exited the room, signaling first period was about to begin. Everyone quieted and sat in their seats, ready for the day to begin.

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

Aizawa was in the teacher’s lounge unsure of what he should do with the information he gained; he was curious to know the story, sure, but it wasn’t his place to question why the brunette was partially blind anywho, and Nezu made it clear to report any new information regarding Dazai to him, for whatever reason. Every time Aizawa inquired an answer, the mongrel would dodge his questions or only half-answer them.

Sighing, feeling guilty since the kid had risked his safety in order to save Eri, who was busy concentrating her quirk on a lizard as a training exercise, and completely unaware to her guardian’s inner turmoil. It took some time for her to use her quirk, but the reassurance that a nullifier was nearby encouraged her, yet there were still hard days where she didn’t want to be bothered with it. Soon, the girl sighed sadly, looking to the male disconsolately.

“Yes, Eri?” Inquired Aizawa, focusing all his attention on her.

“…I haven’t seen Chuuya-Kun or Dazai-Kun in a while…” the girl moped, picking at her nails as a nervous habit before becoming aware and going to scrunch up her dress repeatedly in tiny fists.

“They’re in class right now; I can bring them to you during lunch, if you’d like.” The girl nodded, unsure if she should be happy with the arrangement, or upset because she’s inevitably bothering them.

The U.A. school festival is happening soon, and Mirio promised numerous happy experiences for her, yet she finds herself not truly caring; it feels like nothing can cure the sadness within her soul. Plaguing her deeply, and she doesn’t like it. Whenever she goes to the park with Aizawa, she sees other kids her age being normal, and it feels odd. Her quirk malfunctioning doesn’t make up for it either; she wishes she never had such a quirk. Faintly, she remembered the way Dazai’s quirk made her go away completely and she felt anew. No longer burdened by the uncontrollable force within her. She’d like to feel that again, even if she fainted afterwards.

Eri was a tad hurt that the school had placed Dazai on suspension. Even though the adults tried to keep it from her, wanting her opinion of him to not be tainted with the imagery of him as a troublemaker, she overheard class 1A and a bit of 1B whispering about it, spreading it widely until it ceased because the brunette returned today. Eri feels bad for Dazai, knowing he’ll be bothered by curious people for some time; it was like that with her when she first arrived, and people wanted to know more about her origins. She didn’t give much.

It appears she’ll have to wait until lunch to see her altruistic heroes again.

The office was brightly lit, the curtains open and the sun hitting it in all the right places, making it rather cozy and welcoming to be in.

Nezu smiled softly to himself, his tail moving gently in accordance with his mood.

Midoriya and Yaoyorozu sat on opposite ends of him, concern glued to them like golden syrup. The task they’ve been given seemed outlandish—too much for even them and their class was plagued with a curse!

“Principal Nezu, are you sure?” Yaoyorozu questioned, her posture right, yet her legs shifted uncomfortably. Currently, they were supposed to be in third period, but Nezu called upon them, so they were excused for the entire class.

When they arrived, the sight of Mineta weeping as he trudged from the office brought a pleasant sense of justice, but that quickly dissipated once Aizawa exited, looking at them confused. What would Nezu want from them that Aizawa is (apparently) not aware of?

The conversation had begun immediately, Nezu quickly asking them about their grades and how they find the school— normal questions to ask as a principal— before he set his teacup down and gave them a job: get closer to Dazai Osamu.

“Yes, why wouldn’t I be? Both of you are the perfect candidates!”

They looked between each other, unsure if the task was worth the potential consequences that would surely be bestowed upon them. Getting closer to a classmate because they’re tasked to us a sure-fire way to ruin someone’s trust.

Now, it didn’t sound bad on paper, right? But putting it in a real-world scenario, it was a terrible idea, especially when they’re expected to report any progress made!

Nezu said they wouldn’t need to continue for long, but that he wanted to know something to clear his conscience. The explanation only confused them more; they hadn’t realized Dazai was a suspect of something, and he failed to elaborate, which in turn, made them feel as if they should help in case their classmate is going through something terrible because if their principal is having them act as “spies,” instead of properly interrogating him, then surely Dazai is being framed.

They already knew their principal was questionable in his way of conducting a school— sometimes it felt more like a battlefield, but more training to being the perfect heroes, everyone supposed, and they can’t claim the school is treating them poorly; they are here to become reliable saviors, after all — but Nezu is the animalistic embodiment of intelligence, so he must have a valid suspicion.

Then, before they could question further, they were dismissed for fourth, and any eye contact shared between them, and the brunette felt unforgiving.

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

Dazai stared at his phone annoyed. Mori’s been blowing it up, finally annoyed with the teen not offering him the time of day, and it’s of valid cause; he was supposed to be reporting the mission’s progress, but that’s too boring and nothing interesting happened, so what is the elder man seeking? Reports like “the weather was nice today”? If that’s the case, Dazai can provide; he has no qualms against it.

His phone dings, annoying him slightly, but he still checked it. A gut feeling it wasn’t the aging man, but someone a tad more tolerant. Unlocking his phone, a familiar, yet annoying, contact popped up.

A PDF was given to him; he’d have to check through it later.

Informant

Will you play with me once you get back?

Yeah, sure 👍🏼

Dazai shook his head, slightly agitated that they were the only one available to do such a job, but alas, weeks had already passed, so Dazai can’t complain now, and he was the one to assign them the task anywho. Curse his planning.

As of now, he stood outside Lunch Rush Cafeteria, clearing his thoughts from the endless questions random teens keep asking despite his insistence that the situation isn’t as dire as they’re making it out to be, or the thoughts of why Midoriya and Yaoyorozu appear more awkward around him. He has an inkling regarding the duo; it’s rather easy to put two-and-two together: they get called to Nezu’s office during third, come back in fourth and is acting more anxious, but the energy to search into it is nonexistent. And it’s lunch anyway; he has more pressing matters, like making sure his classmates stop questioning his eating habits.

Sighing, rubbing a hand down his face, he cracked the door slightly to see the tiny fairy getting along with everyone so well— you would’ve mistaken him for a child of the light had you never met him; it makes Dazai feel something despite everyone and their mothers knowing that Chuuya could be too kind and caring for the position(s) granted to him.

A foot nearly made its way inside; calm and collected, he reminded himself. Humming a soft tune just as his foot was about to cross the border between hallway and lunch, the sound of footsteps made him pause and turn like some cat being caught knocking a glass off the table.

“Ah, Aizawa-Sensei, Eri-Chan, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Dazai grinned, lazily walking over to them, the door closing quietly behind him. Lunch could wait.

Eri waved, moving from behind Aizawa to stand next to the brunette’s legs, wide-eyed as she stared the bandaged teen down.

“Eri wanted to hang out with you and Chuuya. Also, I heard what happened with Mineta; I apologize for that,” Aizawa bowed his head, informing the brunette how he was able to get him pulled out of class during second, and give him a reprimand, but the way Dazai smiled blankly at him told him it wasn’t appreciated. Fair enough since Mineta was allowed back during third, so he’s sure the kid was giving Dazai dirty looks once he returned.

“Yeah, thanks.” the brunette brought his attention to the young girl who was now clinging to his leg, her horn gone with the wind the instant she made contact. Aizawa’s eyes widened for a moment before relaxing, his facing going back to indifference.

“You’re extremely clingy,” the words, while they may seem condescending, were spoken in a soft, calming tone as a bandaged hand made its way to caress her misty ivory-blue hair. The girl flinched slightly, her body tense until Dazai removed his hand, leaving it to hover above the girl. Watching the girl’s reaction, she hadn’t made a move to replace the hand, so he was about to retrieve it completely until she awkwardly stood on her tippy toes.

Aizawa watched it all happen with an unreadable expression, but he felt extremely glad of the outcome; it’s already hard to get the girl to communicate with other heroes in fear that she’d hurt them, always clinging to him whenever they’re out, so having her get comfortable around others is a trial he is willing to complete.

“It’s nice to know you’re not suspended… can we go to the teacher’s lounge?” Eri whispered, her voice battling a feather. Dazai caught onto it and a small smile grazed his face, his eye softening slightly.

“Sure, let’s go get the chibi,” Dazai absentmindedly picked up Eri, startling her slightly as he entered the cafeteria. Eri buried her face in his chest, hiding away from the curious gazes that instantly turned their way.

Some people’s faces lit up seeing her— mainly Midoriya, Kirishima, or anyone who was involved in the supposed raid.

Chuuya was busy playing some game on his phone until Arahabaki began yelling at him, penetrating his skull. His face turned red with annoyance, already having a clue as to why it’s acting immature, but he chose to not indulge it. Even the telltale sign of someone standing next to him hadn’t brought him from the cursing tirade sent toward the singularity.

“Hi, Eri!” His head shot up at the greeting, his head darting to the left to find Dazai with Eri in his arms, her head laying on his chest, hiding away from the stares. She buried herself further at the recognition Kirishima had been the one to give, despite not spending much time with the girl.

Chuuya looked confused but wasn’t complaining; spending time with her was always a nice pass time.

“Sup, kid,” greeted the ginger. Eri acknowledged the greeting with a quiet hum.

Looking around, Chuuya found Aizawa standing next to the doors, patiently waiting, so either the visit was timed or there was something else.

Before he could ask, Midoriya scurried to the table, ready to give his greetings until he noticed the girl’s horn missing. His eyes widened; a tad afraid she had used her quirk due to its malfunctions until he remembered who’s holding her and his tightened chest relaxed before his breath hitched, remembering how he’s supposed to get closer to Dazai. But the issue was how to do so…

Then an idea sparked in his head.

“Does No Longer Human allow you to know the nature of someone’s power? Liketheirweaknessesstrength–” The bush-haired teen asked, getting ready to pull out his notebook as his speech sped up to incomprehensibleness. Dazai stared at him incredulously before shaking his head, adjusting Eri in his arms.

“No, it only nullifies,” Midoriya still wrote it down anyway, “if it could do all of that, I’d be a spy.” Midoriya’s face was a tad red from embarrassment due to his shortly cut rant, but that didn’t stop his pencil from roaming along the paper of his notebook (was it a new one?) before going still. Shaking his head, he found his thoughts outlandish. Surely there are spies working for heroes, so why does Dazai mentioning it unease him?

“No… Longer Human?” Eri mumbled, looking up at the brunette curiously.

“The name of my power. Chibi’s name is ‘Upon the Tainted Sorrow,’” the girl cocked her head. Aizawa’s quirk is rather simple name-wise. So are all the other heroes that greeted her ever since she came here. She’s even sure her’s is simplistic. ‘Rewind.’

Her curious gaze was blatantly caught by the brunette, the slight smile adoring his lips widening to show some teeth.

“We don’t have quirks; we have abilities.” And Eri’s entire world seemed suffocating; she heard of the powers before. Kai wanted to experiment on someone like that before due to them being naturally stronger in hopes of curing the world of its sicknesses, but, to her knowledge, he never caught the opportunity and tried to make-do with her, yet any “ability-erasing” bullet was a dud, and only served to make quirks vanish entirely.

Trying to clear her mind, she spotted Midoriya awkwardly standing behind them, his notebook still in hand as if wondering how he should proceed.

“It’s why Aizawa can only stop your ability from working while I can remove the horn completely— if only temporarily.” Dazai shrugged, though it seemed awkward with Eri in his arms. The girl still stared at him, open mouthed until a new fear erupted. Kai was so close to achieving his goals. Did he know Dazai as an ability user? Surely, he did, right?

“Alright, stop bragging!” An angry voice spoke up, making Eri tense slightly.

“Ah, but Pomeranian-Kun, I’m only being factual!” Dazai defended, the nickname gaining some snorts from people. Eri watched as Chuuya stood to flick the brunette on the head, causing him to whine at the shorter.

“Stop being a–” Chuuya stared at Eri before grumbling– “you know.”

“Why, no, Chuuya, I don’t know,” Dazai grinned, his eye speaking of a challenge Eri couldn’t decipher. Chuuya scoffed, pushing the other’s shoulder slightly before he gently removed Eri from the younger’s grasp.

“Wah! Chuuya, this is child abduction!” Accused the other, pointing offended at the ginger while looking mopey as he watched Eri make herself comfortable in Chuuya’s arms.

Chuuya stuck his tongue out, blowing a gentle raspberry that would’ve been hard to hear had Eri not been close.

Despite the fun chatter going around her, the reminder of what Kai wanted to achieve with the power of abilities clung to her like a shadow. Subconsciously, she buried herself within the ginger, startling him as he stared down at her, a concerned eyebrow raised.

“Are you okay?” He whispered, making sure no one else could hear in case it made her cower more. Eri shook her head, her body now trembling. If she was paying attention, she would’ve sworn Chuuya had cursed slightly, but noises began blurring and her focus was glitchy. Shifting from one thing to another abruptly every now and then; she hadn’t even realized Chuuya taking her out of the room until she felt gentle fingers carding through her hair, playing with certain strands before smoothing it out and repeating the process. Nor did she hear Aizawa and Chuuya speaking amongst themselves.

A relieved sigh escaped her mouth and her body instinctively relaxed, nuzzling further into the ginger. Nodding— despite it being a late response— she didn’t dare to lift her head in case he could see the residual panic seeping through her slightly contracted pupils. The cafeteria’s door opened, revealing Dazai strolling out like this was a normal occurrence (it could be for him, who knows?), smiling amusedly.

“Do you still want to go to the teacher’s lounge?” Brunette waves lolled around the head of their owner as he tilted his head dramatically in order to reach the girl's downward gaze seeping through the cracks of Chuuya’s armpit. Eri instinctively looked away, a response built into her whenever Kai didn’t want to be stared at.

Meekly, she nodded, and allowed herself to be carried to the lounge, content to be with her two saviors.

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

“That’s wonderful Eri-Chan!” Dazai grinned, seeing the girl (nervously) rewind the tail of a lizard. She was reluctant to use ‘Rewind’ since the last time a malfunction occurred, the lizard was gone, but luckily Aizawa was around to deal with it, even though it didn’t bring the lizard back...

“Do you… believe so?” She mumbled, her head looking down; the belief that her power was evil and could only be such still ate away at her. How could something so cruel be wonderful?

“Mhm! Soon, you’ll be able to turn the slug back into a dog!” Dazai clasped his hands together, imaginary stars in his eye, “but alas, once that happens, we’d have to part ways.” Chuuya glared harshly at the other, who looked disgusted at the idea of Chuuya turning into a mutt. Chuuya’s teeth scraped together harshly as his mind skyrocketed to find an insult.

Eri stared down at her hands, biting softly at her lips before something came to mind.

“Is Yokohama dangerous?” Chuuya and Dazai shared a look, Chuuya raising an eyebrow, while Dazai cocked his head. The city was one kai used to mumble relentlessly about. If she could recall, that is where ability users reside, no?

“Any place is dangerous if you’re in the wrong area,” mused Dazai, “but overall? No, it’s rather peaceful.” Aizawa looked a tad shocked at the answer. All the rumors saying the city was a bloodbath murdering pro heroes seeking to save it came to mind, but he didn’t say anything. They live(d) there, not him.

Gazing at the clock, he peeped the time.

“It appears lunch is over with. Eri, would you like to accompany them to class?” Eri stood up, immediately clinging onto Dazai’s hand. Half of her body hid behind Chuuya’s leg, too, one hand clutching onto it as she nervously nodded.

Aizawa got up, stretching slightly while walking toward the door, opening it wide, and allowing the trio to exit first.

The walk to class was quiet (and slow) apart from teens strolling to class around them. Footsteps jumbled on top of each other, the echoing sound of shoes becoming indistinguishable from their origins.

Chatter was amongst them, though the teens had the decency to keep it a normal level for others.

Once the large 1A door came into view, Aizawa gently grabbed Eri’s hand and waved ‘goodbye’ to the two. Watching the adult, she awkwardly copied the action before instinctively hiding behind his legs. There was a silent promise in her unsure wave. A promise that said she’d see them again. Now, who were they to deny the girl that? So Dazai offered her an overly exaggerated wave, while Chuuya gave a canine-grin.

Once their teacher and child left, Dazai was the first to enter the classroom. Everyone was already present, so numerous eyes went their way.

“Dazai, Chuuya, welcome back!” Hagakure bounced on the balls of her feet while Mina waved happily at them.

“How was Eri?” Asked the pink alien, dragging out the name slightly. Anyone standing began making their way to their desks, so they wouldn’t displease their teacher.

“Lovely as ever.” Dazai answered, his tone light and as honest as he’s allowing it to be — which isn’t much, but enough— while he bobbed to his desk, plopping down with a sigh. Chatter resumed and was rather quiet as they waited for their fifth period teacher to arrive.

Dazai’s head lolled downward, his eye resting as he strained his ears on peculiar conversations. That continued for two minutes until the familiar feeling of someone staring brought him from his observing and back to the “dainty” world he wishes to rid himself of, a mahogany eye opened lazily to find darker ones staring nervously.

“Dazai-Kun, I was wondering if you’d like to study with me, Midoriya, and a few others after school.” Yaoyorozu was turned in her desk slightly, looking directly into his eye. Dazai cocked his head curious. He’d never been invited to study with them; he had no reason to be. His grades were marvelous and those two could handle the wave of dumbasses this class was unfortunate to be blessed with, so he never put himself out there as a candidate.

“My! Is there a reason for this invitation?” There had to be. there was an ulterior motive; he just had to solve it.

“Well, you’re exceptionally smart, so I feel it’d be–” Dazai’s eye narrowed as the girl spewed her excuse; it was obvious she was nervous about its credibility, so this wasn’t a true “from the heart” invitation.

“Sold! I’ll show,” grinned the brunette, leaning on the palm of his hand. Yaoyorozu’s mouth was agape, but quickly, she fixed her expression to a grateful one.

“I’m grateful.”

Watching as the conversation played out, Chuuya glared slightly at the brunette, already seeing the gears in his head turn. ‘What trouble did he get himself into?’ Was the only question he could ask. Ever since his suspension, he’d been more on guard, though it was hard for the plain eye to see.

‘Eh, not my problem.’ Decided the ginger, removing his gaze from the younger. Funnily enough, once he did so, Aizawa entered the room, looking tired as ever. See? When you stop giving your attention to fish, blessings happen.

“My apologies for being tardy,” he didn’t bother going into depth. With Eri, it makes sense he’d have to find a suitable babysitter for her, “Anyway, get dressed in your hero costumes. We’re doing mock battles today,” everyone stood from their desks, quickly leaving out the door to the locker rooms.

Upon entering, everyone beelined to their lockers, chatting excitedly about what’s to be expected of them, but in the corner of the room was Mineta chatting secretly with Kaminari.

“You sure, dude? I mean, that doesn’t seem cool,” asked the humanoid Pokémon, yellow eyes squinting at the short teen standing as if he’d crack the code to world peace— or world domination. That seemed more plausible.

“Just trust me! It’s like peeking on girls!”

“Yeah, like you have much luck with that…” Kaminari glanced awkwardly around the room. Dazai and Chuuya normally took the longest to get ready— for whatever reason— and Mineta proposed a prank to pull on them. Not that Kaminari isn’t up for a good prank every once in a while, but it crossed the line between “prank” and “harassment,” and quite frankly, he already has a reputation for hanging out with the shorter, and despite his usual dumbass antics, he does know when something goes too far.

“Oh, come on! Please?” Mineta looked as if his entire world would crash down the instant Kaminari disagreed (it probably would, actually. His constitution doesn’t seem that strong).

The “prank” would be something rather simple; it consisted of sneaking into their lockers and either planting something in there or taking something out. If it was anyone else, the electricity user (probably) would’ve jumped on the bandwagon instantly, but they aren’t anyone else.

“I still don’t know, dude,” Kaminari decided that’d be a good place to end the conversation, going back to getting ready. Mineta looked betrayed, his face scrunched up, red, and snot nearly leaving his nose as he reluctantly continued putting on his grape-oriented costume.

Once everyone was finished changing and left, Dazai left the stall, grinning happily at Chuuya, which only meant bad things to come.

Sighing, giving into the silent prompting sent his way, “What are you smiling about?” Squinted the ginger before Dazai cheerfully pulled out a dart gun, showing it off like it was a ~¥144,419 art piece. If he wanted, he’d probably start twirling around with it, too, like some Disney princess. Sorrow for the unfortunate filled Chuuya’s heart as his eyes narrowed. He needed a glass of whiskey. Stat. Wine was too expensive and grandeur to waste on this revelation.

‘This school has to be fucking dumb.’

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

Class 1A stood in a line while their teacher explained their newest objective: keep their flag on their person. Currently, they were in the viewing area watching over the mock city.

“As heroes, there will be times where you have to keep things safe while fighting. Whether it be the detonator to a bomb, or confidential information in a briefcase,” Aizawa stared blankly at his students; his face showing little to no emotion, “You’re all required to protect your flags, whoever has the most is excused from tomorrow’s exercises, while the overall losers are left to clean the class.” Now everyone looked determined to win, their lips pursed and brows inward. Dazai yawned quietly while Chuuya bumped his shoulder, a silent promise to make Dazai clean the class. Like that’ll ever happen.

“Sir,” Iida raised his hand high for the entire sky— if possible— to see, “how do we determine the losers?”

“Whoever has zero flags.” Answered their teacher. Then he went on a long rant fully explaining the task set upon them: everyone starts off with one numbered flag, and there is a 4.5-minute timer for them to obtain the other’s flag. The one to gain the other’s flag is the winner and will go to the next match, the one to lose theirs is a loser and is disqualified, while if a tie happens, they’re both disqualified, but due to them still having their flags, they’re neither a winner nor loser.

So, in short: The person with the most flags wins and gets to skip on exercises, while anyone with zero flags loses and has to clean, and if they’re disqualified, due to a tie, nothing happens.

“Iida, please help me pass out the flags.”

“Yes, sir!”

Dazai played lazily with the flag in hand. #21. Most had put their flags in the belts or pockets of their clothes, only a few daring to have it in their hands, or extremely out there; it was all allowed as long as it was easy to snatch off of them, anyway. Aizawa had already called out who was going against who, now they were preparing themselves.

Gazing at the surroundings in screen, a sigh left his mouth. There was a giant training arena with the usual boundary lines. A raspy voice with the faintest accent of the slums came from behind him, “If we’re fighting on the training arena, what’s with the mock city?” Chuuya had voiced the question that was forming within his mind.

“That,” Aizawa gestured to the city, “is for tomorrow’s training.” Grinning, anyone could tell their teacher was planning on working them to the bone, so a lot began praying they’d have the most flags by the end of this training session. Once the few minutes they’ve been given to prep were over, Aizawa began the training tournament.

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First Round: Bakugo Katsuki vs. Eijiro Kirishima

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Everything was calm, like the calm before a storm is predicted to erupt; the air flowed gently from the numerous ACs around training area, surrounding the two participants as they awaited the signal.

Everyone in the camera room watched with bated anticipation; it was obvious who was going to win this fight from the get-go, so few stares were of interest.

On the training arena, Bakugo glared at his opponent daringly, his flag in the green and orange belt carrying grenades, already coming up with a good strategy to deal with the red head. Kirishima hardened his hands, staring back at him with (almost) the same intensity, but not purpose; his flag neatly hanging in the belt around his waist adorning a red “R.” The air now seemed thick, time appeared slow, and the more their teacher waited to start, the more arrogant Bakugo seemed to get.

Small explosions crackled on the blond’s palms; a cocky smile etched on his face. Aizawa’s hand lingered on the “START” button. Ten seconds passed before finally, a buzzing sound was made, and Bakugo immediately rushed forward, propelling himself with giant explosions. Instantly, once he’s close enough, he sends a powerful right-hook Kirishima’s way, celestial flare crackling around his fist once it lands.

A deafening bang sounded, and surrounding area was smoky, causing a few to squint at the screens, but once it cleared, Kirishima came into view, blocking out numerous attacks with his arms while also keeping his flag from reach, moving backwards repeatedly, and even managing a dash to the side whenever Bakugo became cocky enough to reach for the #8 flag, but that didn’t help since it always sent him directly into another fit of explosions.

Kirishima sent numerous punches Bakugo’s way, some even managing to land before being met with explosions. Bakugo maneuvered left in defense of a punch aimed at his stomach before putting his hand in Kirishima’s face, setting off numerous sharp pops until Kirishima punched outward again, nearly knocking into his noggin, but Bakugo evaded downward.

Despite the show of resilience, Kirishima, himself, began feeling overheated from the onslaught of thunderous blasts, but he didn’t put down his arms, continuing to get abused by the repetitive attacks, and if lucky, managing to hit the blond a couple times.

The actions continued on for some time, Bakugo repeatedly blasting explosions, Kirishima constantly blocking and punching as the surrounding area became smokier and hard to breathe in.

Just as Kirishima noticed the perfect opening, Aizawa came on the announcement, his voice dead as ever.

“Bakugo Katsuki wins.”

Kirishima’s eyes widened while they traveled down to his belt. Indeed, his flag was no longer in his possession, and Bakugo held it in his hands with a wide grin. A smile formed on the red head’s face.

‘So manly,’ he thought as he made his way off of the arena, congratulating Bakugo on his victory, to which the blond grinned harder, a triumphant aura surrounding him.

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

Second Round: Ochaco Uraraka vs. Kyoka Jiro

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Ochaco rushed forward, collecting any debris caused from the first round. Sadly, it was only pebbles available to be picked, but considering Jiro had yet to act, the auburn teen decided it’s best to have the first move than not. Especially when most battles are won by the person who hit first— but only if their attack was able to disorient the other. Now, all Ochaco had to worry about as her chunky heels clacked along the ground, occasionally hitting it harder for a speed boost was to avoid Kyoka’s earphone jacks. Just as she got close enough to risk the dangers of being whipped by the jacks, she made herself weightless and pounced, hands out for the taking. Kyoka’s face turned more determined while finger pads reached closer to her face. The extensions of her ears reached to her boots and plugged themselves into the stereos.

Abruptly, intense heartbeat sounds pierced Ochaco’s ears, making her mind disoriented. Due to her gravity being nullified, she was also shot meters away from her opponent. Thoughts of canceling her gravity shouted in her mind, but the pain of sound abusing her ears subconsciously caused her hands to shakily reach and plug her ears. Then the feeling stopped. The sound of a beating heart was no more.

Shaking and dazed, Ochaco checked her surroundings to find herself out of bounds. A defeated sigh escaped her mouth as she gladly flopped on her back. Her ears throbbed and overall? She was now tired.

The muffled voice of Aizawa calling the match only made her more exhausted.

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

Third Round: Izuku Midoriya vs. Rikido Sato

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Sato ripped open a couple packets of sugar, dumping the contents in his mouth and swallowing without much of a face as his muscles grew in capacity. Izuku got into position, green electricity surrounded his body erratically; his brain was going at high speeds as he remembered the weaknesses of his opponent's quirk: hypoglycemia — effectively lowers his cognitive functions, decreases his intelligence, and lethargy. So really, all Izuku had to do was wait until the sleepiness hits him then take his flag for the win!

Sato comes rushing toward him, fist ready to strike before Izuku jumps into the air, over his head, and lands behind him at a safe distance. Sato still has a good level of intelligence (not enough considering his actions), so he quickly turns and charges back at the green hero, ready to strike again. A dance of evading punches and jumping high into the air ensued before Sato completely forgot about the flag and began groaning and swaying, mumbling the words “sleepy,” and “I’m tired” repeatedly like a witch laying a curse. Finally, he fainted to the ground and Izuku quickly grabbed his flag, victory glazing his eyes.

Aizawa called the match.

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Fourth Round: Momo Yaoyorozu vs. Mina Ashido

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Momo had spent the past minutes reading her book and understanding newer things all the way down to their molecular levels as a just in case. There hadn’t been a moment for her to fight Mina; she never assumed she’d have to, but an acidic quirk proves troublesome considering it’s acid. Not many things are built to work against it, or rather, not many things that she knows down to the molecular level, but that’s not to say she didn’t study acidic resistant objects. She could easily go for a Teflon-covered shield, or something with Neoprene, but– an idea sparked in her mind.

Mina stood stretching, widely grinning. There wasn’t much of a plan in her mind; she was planning on going with the flow since that proved to be beneficial for her. Just when Momo finished creating a shield and pole, the timer began and Mina immediately rushed forward, creating non-corrosive acid from her feet as a makeshift slip-and-slide. Forming small acid balls (and making sure the solubility wasn’t too dangerous), Mina began throwing them toward the vice president.

Instinctively, Momo raises the shield.

The quick sound of acid hitting metal, along with a slow sizzling sound as it ate through it slowly caused Momo’s face to grimace before her eyes widened at the distance gained by Mina. She was a pole’s length away, so quickly, she struck out her pole, side-arming it, but Mina, with her agility, dodged each hit sent her way. Another acid attack was sent to the black-haired teen, inciting her to raise her shield again, but the acid this time was a tad bit stronger and tore through the metal more quickly.

Swinging the pole again, Momo’s eyes narrowed immensely. Her plan was coming together in front of her simply due to her classmate's reckless behavior. As discreet as she could, Momo quickly began working on something more prominent against acid, sparkles of pink and blue forming at her left shoulder all the way down to her wrist (the back), another at the palm of her hand, and finally, her back thigh while she swung her pole at Mina’s feet. The excessive use of her quirk didmake her feel sort of weak, but luckily, she had a hefty breakfast and lunch.

Mina has difficulties using her acid on living beings due to her lack of mastery with the corrosive properties of her quirk, so it’s obvious she’s keeping her attacks aimed at the shield and pole to put Momo at a disadvantage; however, if Momo puts her in a tight position, it could work in her favor and victory can be enacted. The plan itself was simple, but effective if right. Momo just hopes she has the full courage to pull it off.

Mina continued to effortlessly throw balls of acid Momo’s way. Each attack was met with the pang of metal then sizzling. Currently, she can’t get as close to Momo with her pole and shield in the way, so she’s working on making them unusable. Using the acid at her feet to dodge swings or strikes, even jumping when it’s a foot-sweep, Mina was sure she had it in bag. Suddenly, just as she was about to throw another acid attack Momo’s way, Mina’s eyes widened and her hand lowered. Momo had set her shield (it couldn’t be called that anymore; it was too hole-ridden to protect) down and struck her pole at Mina, but due to the lack of protection, Mina wasn’t as sure about sending a ball of acid her way— even if she lowered its corrosiveness. After a few more advances were made and Mina was in a tight position, the pole was dropped. Mina had expected the girl to be more resistant than that, but– Mina’s eyes narrowed. Momo had pulled out yet another shield and pole.

Eyebrows furrowing, realizing what Momo had done, Mina raised her hand again and began firing off acid shots, only this time, the shield hadn’t melted as planned. Momo was now determined and rushed forward, taking advantage of the momentary surprise on Mina’s features. Pole in hand, she swung her pole out. Expectantly, Mina had evaded the attack, but Momo quickly threw a small container out. Eyes widening, Mina used her acid to destroy the small flash-bang before it could erupt, but that only worked in Momo’s favor as she pulled out her actual secret weapon: a net gun.

Shooting it off, the webs unfurled like a deadly dance of silk and steel. Spiraling through the air, it latched around Mina like a claw-hand, trapping her instantly within its web-like snare. Forming acid from her skin, Mina prepared herself to dissolve the web and get back up to continue before Momo rushed forward with all her might and narrowly grasped her flag, snatching it out of her right boot.

Silence overruled them before Mina began laughing, “oh, man! I hadn’t expected that at all!” She cackled, holding her stomach the best she could in the web. Momo, now awkward, yet happy with herself, quickly made work of releasing her classmate from its mechanisms.

“I was worried I wouldn’t pull it off…” mumbled the black-haired teen, her cheeks flushed a rosy tint. The two chatted a bit, even as Aizawa called the match, and instructed them to return to the viewing area. Mina was ecstatic, yet curious about the plan Momo had made, and Momo tried her best to explain it, especially the part involving the empty flash-bang.

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

Fifth Round: Osamu Dazai vs. Denki Kaminari

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Dazai yawned; he was tired, and quickly wanted this over with.

Kaminari had a childishly determined look to him until it shifted just as quickly. Now, he adorned an unsure expression, remembering that his quirk was pointless against Dazai, and the distance between them was quite impractical even if he could use it.

He’d have to rely on his fighting skills if he wanted to win this, and sadly, he didn’t care much to pay attention to the other’s style much in the past since any mock battles fought, Dazai always relied on trolling his opponent into submission, or purposely losing when the fight wasn’t interesting.

Perhaps Dazai would do the same for him?

The buzzer began and before Kaminari could even think to do anything, he heard something being shot then he felt something sharp stick him in his neck. Yellow eyes widened before his body became heavy and his mind drowsy; he could barely lift a hand before nearly eating shit. Luckily, the tell-tale sound of sprinting was heard, and not-very-strong arms caught him in time, laying him on the ground. His eyes struggled to stay open as he saw the brunette happily grab his flag, even waving it to him with a victorious smile.

The brunette’s lips moved, but Kaminari didn’t bother trying to understand as he allowed sleep to take over.

(“Thank you for being my test subject…”) Dazai looked smugly at the sleeping teen before succumbing to the ennui of the situation. Aizawa quickly called the match, and Dazai reluctantly dragged the other to the camera room, sighing the entire time despite it being his fault for sedating him.

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Sixth Round: Tsuyu Asui vs. Yuga Aoyama

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There was a loud ‘thud,’ and the match was over. Tsuyu merely wrapped Yuga in her tongue, throwing him out of bounds and forcing him to forfeit his flag, proclaiming her the victor of the short battle.

In the viewing area, Todoroki and a few others moved away from the cameras, either losing interest in the fights or preparing for their own.

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

Seventh Round: Hanta Sero vs. Mashirao Ojiro

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“Wha–!” Mashirao called out as tape immediately wrapped around him; his arms, tail, and legs were bound in an awkward, hard to get out of, angle. The match had just begun, and he was facing defeat. Wiggling himself in the sticky tape trying to break it before Sero comes to claim his flag, Mashirao found the situation hopeless and gave up, laying his head on the ground, he watched as Sero claimed official victory.

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

Eighth Round: Minoru Mineta vs. Chuuya Nakahara

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Mineta was a trembling mess as he stood across from his opponent: one angry dog. Perhaps the universe was telling him something when he got onto the nerves of not only the ginger, but the brunette, too, and this was the gods from above finally cashing in his ticket.

Chuuya didn’t bother even stretching, there was no need to; his flag was in his fist, his foot tapping the ground impatiently. The thoughts of causing as much pain – but not enough to garner trouble – to the shortest kicked in; he’d been getting on his nerves tremendously and the threats fed to him only seem to stick for some time before bouncing off like water to cocoa powder. If whatever gods are watching over him has decided to bless him with a moment to shut his trap, who is he to not take it? That’d be sacrilege, right?

A grin casted on Chuuya’s face, serving to make Mineta cower until he was comparable to liquid on the floor— which is what he will be the moment Aizawa gives them the “go-ahead.”

Just as the timer began, a boom sounded, startling everyone in the viewing room.

“Huh–?!” Hagakure squeaked out. Anyone who’d lost interest in the battles crowded the cameras to find Mineta stuck to the ground in a small crater like glue, tears streaming down his red face while Chuuya walked calmly to him and plucked the flag stuck to his sticky hair, the stickiness of it not lasting long as Chuuya shook the grape-like ball still attached to the #19 flag to the ground. Aizawa quickly called the match, allowing Mineta to be released from the chains of gravity. Typically, while Chuuya is a-okay with any length of a battle, this one felt too short and not as savory as any other one he’s been in, and he hardly got to let the little perv suffer from gravity.

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

Ninth Round: Fumikage Tokoyami vs. Toru Hagakure

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

This round ended fast as Dark Shadow overwhelmed Hagakure into dropping her flag before swooping to get it, proclaiming Tokoyami the victor as the match was called.

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

Tenth Round: Mezo Shoji vs. Iida Tenya

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

This round ended quickly, too, as Iida used his engines to boost his speed across the arena, quickly allowing him to grab Shoji’s flag. The limb user was quite stunned, but accepted his defeat regardless as Aizawa called the match.

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

Eleventh Round: Shoto Todoroki vs. Koji Koda

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

Before Koda could even summon animals to his side, Todoroki had quickly frozen the arena, calmly walked to him, and carefully melted the ice enough to take the flag that was previously fiddled with due to nerves.

Aizawa called the match, and all winners were expected to meet up while the disqualified were to change out of their hero costumes and wait in the viewing area.

Bakugo, Jiro, Izuku, Momo, Dazai, Tsuyu, Sero, Chuuya, Tokoyami, Iida, and Shoto all lined up, looking toward their teacher with anticipation.

Each of them now had two flags, meaning for the next battle, if they were to win, they’d gain four, then the next, six.

Dazai had a small smile on his face, Chuuya had a grin on his face like a dog, Bakugo was smiling arrogantly, Jiro was unfazed, Izuku was determined, Iida was nodding along to what was being given, Momo appeared awkward, yet ready to give her best, Sero had an easy-going smile, and Tsuyu, Tokoyami, and Shoto had attentive expressions on their faces. Aizawa began the draw, and these were their new pairings:

Tsuyu Asui vs. Fumikage Tokoyami

Bakugo Katsuki vs. Momo Yaoyorozu

Kyoka Jiro vs. Osamu Dazai

Izuku Midoriya vs. Iida Tenya

Shoto Todoroki vs. Chuuya Nakahara

It was a tad cramped considering Sero hadn’t a partner, so Aizawa did another draw, earning confused gazes.

“Due to the uneven number, we will have a twelfth round. Whoever wins will have to give up their flag.” Aizawa drew the name.

Tsuyu Asui

A small ‘kero’ left her mouth while Aizawa instructed them to the arena again.

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

Tsuyu was the victor of the round, leaving her with the advantage of four flags; it put quite the target on her back, but sadly, this wasn’t a free-for-all training session, leaving a few cursing under their breath. Sero sulked as he trudged back to the locker room. He’d be fine.

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

Tsuyu A. vs. Fumikage T.

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“Feel the wrath of the void!” Fumikage shouted, dark shadow lunging outward toward Tsuyu, “tremble before my power!” Tsuyu jumped out of the way, dark shadow striking air below as Tsuyu made two small hops backwards for safe measure.

“Kero,” Tsuyu croaked, her tongue hanging loosely in her mouth as she jumped high, slinging the extendable muscle in an attempt to grab at Tokoyami’s flags; however, the chuuni edge lord was quick, using dark shadow to evade the attack as the shadow grasped the frog-girl’s tongue, yanking her forward as she crashes to the ground. Eyes wide, Tsuyu uses her body to brace herself as a thud is heard, numerous people wincing in the viewing area. Luckily, she wasn’t at a height that could cause any serious injuries, so she got back to her fours, hopping skillfully as to evade incoming attacks as her feet skidded along the ground as dark shadow delivered claw attacks her way. Jumping high, Tsuyu delivered a kick toward the conscious shadow.

Dashing to the side, dark shadow continued to strike hits. Slashing at the air as Tsuyu continues to hop away from the violent attacks. Whipping her tongue, the same as before enacted, and due to the unwavering grip, Tsuyu was unable to retreat her tongue safely. Eyes widening, she began to accept her fate as the shadowy manifestation grew closer.

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

Katsuki B. vs. Momo Y.

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There was minimal time to react once continuous explosions blasted in the room, dust cluttering the air like it had before on the first round, making it stuffy to breath in.

Yaoyorozu’s shield was raised, blocking all the ruthless attacks sent her way; however, instead of having a full proof plan, she was backed into a corner. With Mina, it was certain the girl would be at a disadvantage using her quirk directly on a person, but Bakugo doesn’t care as much as one should for the regards of others’ safety. Raising her shield high, Bakugo’s attack was evaded as she quickly jumped away from a leg blast.

The sound of explosions hitting metal, causing it to reverberate from the material into the hands of Momo, making her hands to feel weirdly numb, repeated in the room, not once catching a break; getting pushed back repeatedly, nearly tripping over herself, and unable to find the perfect opportunity to strike. Swinging her pole blindly, wanting any upper hand she can get, a squeak escaped her lips as the pole was blown out of her hands, flying meters away, out of bounds. Out of her reach.

‘Okay, that hadn’t worked,’ thought Yaoyorozu, iridescent pink and blue forming on her forearm, spitting out a pole. Her unoccupied hand grabbed it, quickly using it to swing at Bakugo, who’d expected the attack and blasted himself back, scoffing. Narrowing his eyes, his hands cackled before grinning like a battle lunatic.

“You’re finally taking this seriously?!” He shouted at the girl, grinning so sharp, his canines might break his teeth. Lunging forward, propelling himself with explosions, Momo brought her shield up, protecting herself from the attacks as heat began building up around her. Sweating profusely, Momo began formulating another plan, constantly having to save herself from tripping or receiving burns until the buzzer ran, frightening her before a relief engulfed her as the sparks halted.

‘At least it’s a ti–’ Momo’s eyes wandered to her shoes, seeing her left heel out of bounds. Flicking her gaze to meet with Bakugo’s, the man smiled victoriously as he held out his hand, a silent, yet loud, demand of her flags. Momo gave them up without a fuss.

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

Kyoka J. vs. Osamu D.

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Dazai’s shoulders sagged slightly. This was a tricky battle; it doesn’t take a genius to know that the darts won’t hold much weight against Jiro if she chooses to use that heartbeat method of hers, and while No Longer Human stays true to not letting him get affected by powers, there wasn’t a sure way to get her flags without putting his hands on her, and while he has no qualms about hitting a woman, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to put too much thought or action into these tournaments. Everyone was taking them so seriously… for a moment, he was ready to just forfeit– Dazai’s face soured. Chuuya wouldn’t ever let it die if he lost now; he sure as hell would keep bringing it up even when they’re in hell together burning and getting tortured by hell’s worst— or would they be hell’s worst? Who knows? — especially since he’d be made to clean.

Grumbling under his breath, Dazai waited patiently for the timer to begin. Mahogany eyes narrowed, preying upon his opponent like he would your typical mafia enemy. Everyone has flaws; everyone has weak points, weaknesses, blind spots, etc.… no one is truly invincible, if they were, he’s sure all his plans to annoy or torture Chuuya would prove pointless.

Jiro cannot use her quirk for long without risking overuse; that’s a major flaw with her power because no matter how powerful, she still must be careful with the output. Another was her less-than efficient close combat capabilities. Again, Dazai was only above-average regarding physical combat, so he’s sure defeating her would be no issue, but ennui is a hard emotion to get rid of and Dazai quite likes it in his life; it stops him from being a brute.

As the timer began, Dazai shot a quick dart as a distraction, but as predicted, Jiro quickly plugged her jacks into her stereos and busted one concentrated heartbeat to deflect the weapon. Dazai couldn’t tell what the girl was thinking, but if he had to guess, it was her falsely assuming her heart beats would affect him and using it to make him rethink his actions.

As Dazai was about to rush forward, he was met with another dilemma. The information he gave of his quirk was the bare minimum; it didn’t reveal all secrets. Yes, it was touch activated, and yes, it was resistant against anything that touched him— power or owner, doesn’t matter, if it has an effect when touching him, it gets nullified— but he never said anything about the little glowing effect No Longer Human gives when he’s surrounded by a power; it’s not often that it happens; the last time he can remember was when Verlaine forced Chuuya to open his gate and the earth became sort of distorted (if that’s the right word) around him as gravity increased, but it happens.

Rushing forward, his little theory proved right; however, it sucks for her because only one man has been able to work around No Longer Human and succeed. Instantly, once he entered the sound waves, No Longer Human surrounded him, creating some weird effect of everything surrounding him appearing distorted as heartbeats blasted through. Jiro’s eyes widened and her mouth fell agape; her eyebrows also furrowed as she watched Dazai advance without a hitch in his movements. Not even getting pushed back slightly

In an instant, the two were on the ground, fighting like toddlers over their flags. Jiro pushed her hand onto Dazai’s face while using the other to try and reach the flags placed neatly in his bandages; Dazai palmed her face, pushing her further into the ground as they rolled around. Everyone in the viewing room, sans Todoroki and Bakugo, watched with immense amusement— except for Mineta and Kaminari, who both looked distraught by the distance of the two.

On the field, Dazai and Jiro stared at each other, waiting for one to make the first move. Their flags were out of their grasps, sprawled on the ground like litter. Jiro crawled first, but face-butted the ground as Dazai grabbed her leg, dragging her back as he haphazardly got to his feet and ran, bending down to pick up two random flags: one that was in his possession and another that was not. Jiro made it to her feet, too, and began trying to kag the brunette for leverage, but Dazai jumped over her feet, even stuck his tongue out at her like a child as they continued the overall childish battle.

The childish fight ended with Dazai being the victor, all four flags in hand and a cheerful smile on his face.

Once they entered the viewing room, Dazai remained indifferent to the looks of confusion and shock on the majority faces. Chuuya was the exception; the grin on his face said he’d never let it down. Mineta, too, was an exception considering he was glaring heavily at Dazai, but who cares about him? Jiro had a faint blush on her face, a tad embarrassed by her actions, but she tried to stand proud for the decisions she’s made today.

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

Izuku M. vs. Tenya I.

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

Iida and Midoriya danced around each other, trying to land hits on one another or take each other’s flags. Electric green fused with the smoke of engines as a precise kick aimed at the strict blue-haired teen, missing due to said teen running out the way. Midoriya kneeled to the ground, hand cupping his chin as he thought. The most reliable weak point was over-usage; if Iida relied too much on his quirk, they began overheating and can hinder him, but then again that could take a while, so Midoriya could also rely on clogging the mufflers.

Flashing his gaze around the court, there were many pebbles and decently sized rocks that he could trap inside the engines if he were tricky enough. Jumping as a hefty kick was sent his way, Midoriya skidded across the floor, green electricity following his movement. Determined, Midoriya quickly jumped across the court, collecting a couple pebbles in hand. Iida stared curiously, taking the moment of weakness to dash toward, preparing a nasty kick towards Midoriya’s arm.

Emerald eyes widening, Midoriya jumped out of the way, but not before having the pebbles kicked from his hands, scattering across the floor like marbles. Kneeling again, Midoriya assessed his hand, pushing aside the throb, a new plan formed in his mind. Rushing forward, deciding that taking the flag would be easier than immobilizing the other, Midoriya jumped frantically whenever Iida strikes, and once he’s high enough, his leg raises high into the sky before slamming down, being countered by Ida’s own kick before the engine-user gets thrown back, sliding across the floor as a duckling of smoke trails behind him.

Midoriya sprints at the opportunity, crouched next to Iida in less than two seconds and victoriously taking his flags.

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

Shoto T. vs. Chuuya N.

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

Todoroki shot ice out at Chuuya the instant the buzzer began, determined to trap him within the icy blue, but Chuuya launched off the ground, floating safely in the air before delivering a kick to the ice, breaking it into shards and using his gravity to launched them toward Todoroki, decreasing their gravity as they became closer to the dual-haired teen, but the taller narrowed his eyes, putting up an ice wall in defense. Shooting out a hand, fire flooded the area, but Chuuya used any leftover ice shards, kicking them to dodge the flurry before increasing his gravity, dropping to the ground and decreasing it as he kicked back, launching himself at break-neck speed with a grin as he continued to dodge any fire or kick at any ice sent his way. Chuuya could’ve gave the teen the same treatment Mondays received, but he felt he deserved more respect than that, so he’ll put energy into this fight. Kicking himself into the air behind the dual-toned teen, twisting his body and lowering the gravity on his anchor foot as he swung, everyone in the viewing room awaited the sound of a painful thud but was met with the sound of ice shattering, Chuuya’s foot grazing Todoroki’s face, who leaned back harshly. Chuuya merely smiled, using the pieces of ice to kick himself through the air as Todoroki sent another blast of fire.

Skidding on the floor as he comes to a stop, Chuuya turns to face Todoroki, a fire blazing in his blue eyes as a canine smile showed off his determination. The distance between them wasn’t great, so this plan should prove easy. Sprinting forward, Chuuya busted through the continuously built ice walls before meeting face-to-face with Todoroki, aiming a high kick to his head before the teen dodged, his eyes wide, not expecting the distance gained. Todoroki’s eyes went down to the ginger’s hands once an attack was made in his stomach, sending his into the air briefly as he coughed up spit, but they were in his pockets. Cozy. It was the same leg that was aimed at his head a couple seconds ago— how did it end up there so fast? He didn’t have time to think before another kick was aimed at him, sending him flying; he didn’t think his gravity was any different, so this was the ginger’s brute strength. Saving himself with a wall of ice, Todoroki clutched onto his stomach, coughing, yet still willing to get up and continue; he didn’t want to lose, so if this ended as a tie than that’s better than less.

Making the resolve, Todoroki was ready to strike again before the buzzer sounded, confusing him; he wasn’t out of bounds and… looking down, Todoroki’s shoulders slumped slightly. His flags were gone. Looking toward the ginger, he was holding them triumphantly, and that’s when it clicked; when the ginger attacked, his flags must’ve been loosely hanging, so Chuuya kicked him again, making them fall. Looking down, a tad disappointed, Todoroki gave a slight bow before retreating to the locker room.

“So strong; I don’t believe he used his qui— sorry, ability— during the ending of theroundwithallthekicks,” Midoriya mumbled, jumbling words together as he wrote viciously in his notebooks gaining fond chuckles from his classmates while Dazai had to stare at him. The kid was smart; too smart and too observant. Both are not dreadful things, but both are dangerous when together. Someone who’s smart but not observant? Risky, and a tad hard to trick but doable. Someone who’s observant but not smart? Not as risky and remarkably easy to gaslight. When it’s both? Doable— anything is doable, especially for Dazai— but will take some time to make them crack or even evade their gaze.

Aizawa nodded at the surviving group approvingly before beginning his draw again, not bothering to wait for them to calm down from the current adrenaline due to “heroes not having the luxury to calm themselves in dire crisis” or whatever.

Bakugo K. (4) vs. Fumikage T. (6)

Dazai O. (4) vs. Nakahara C. (4)

Midoriya I. (4) vs. (blank)

Dazai stared blankly as the results left his teacher’s mouth. The universe was cruel in its ways of hosting him; not letting him kill himself despite all the precautious he takes whether it be alcohol poisoning, swallowing hundreds of oils, drowning in dirty rivers, etc., etc., the universe enjoys laughing down upon him. Chuuya, however, was as cocksure as ever; he knows he can beat Dazai in a fight, and Dazai knows the chance he stands against the biggest martial artist in the mafia is nada. Would it be scary of him to give up? Nah, Chuuya wouldn’t let it go while also making fun of him. That type of ammunition is better off outside of the hands of his dog. Thank you very much.

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

Bakugo K. vs. Fumikage T.

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

Bakugo wasted no time throwing himself at the bird brain teen. Lighting up the arena with sparks, constantly fending off dark shadow from appearing or gaining a good hit had out Fumikage in a tight stop. The distance gained in such a fleeting time was phenomenal, and deadly had this been real. Bakugo sent punches after punches fueled with deadly sparks toward the shadow manifestation, keeping it in an endless cycle of “attacking” and retreating. All with a wide grin on his face; he knows he’s going to have the most flags when he wins, and he plans to keep it that way.

Dark shadow tries its hardest to defend the flags, using its body as a shield around Fumikage anytime a current of fire is sent toward its master, yet that was not enough to stop the pure brute of the blond’s actions. Fumikage blinked and Bakugo was in front of him, triumphant as his fist winded back.

“DIE!” He shouted out, punching into the bird man’s stomach with enough strength to make him double over until the undergoing of explosions kicked in, and Tokoyami was sent flying before skidding across the floor like ice.

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

Dazai O. vs Nakahara C.

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

There were two options Dazai had at this very moment: walk out of bounds, forfeiting the match, and potentially ruining whatever reputation he may have (not that he cares all that much, but it seemed logical enough to include), OR stay and overall get his ass beat by a tiny ginger, but then again, he can try dragging out the battle so neither of them loses, giving him joke material against the slug… eh, it appears his mind is made up.

Chuuya was grinning ear-to-ear like a mad dog, a fire in his eyes that’s only ever present whenever he’s entering a fight he’d been hoping for deep down. Wow, he knows how to make someone feel special. As the buzzer began, he, at once, charged toward Dazai, sending a sharp kick toward his chest, but the bastard moved out of the way, smiling gleefully. It made Chuuya want to punch him in the face.

Taking his hands from his pockets, Chuuya threw one at Dazai’s face, but the bastard dodged again, gliding across the floor to create distance.

“Chuuya, you’re just punching all over the place. Tsk, tsk, I should’ve known a slug like you lacks–” Dazai ducked, evading left at a kick— “coordination,”

“Can you shut it!” growled Chuuya, sending a barrage of punches and kicks at Dazai that were missed, only two hitting Dazai, but he recovered quickly, only wincing slightly. Swerving his head left, Dazai stuck his tongue out, glee in his eyes as Chuuya became more agitated. Screw the universe for pairing him up with an annoying nullifier with brains.

“If I go out, you go out with me!” Laughed Dazai, putting distance between him and the ginger, pissing him off immensely.

“Ugh!” Chuuya collected a couple pebbles, firing them off like bullets at the brunette, who tried his hardest to dodge, but was hit by many pebbles, and was now doubled over, holding his stomach, yet still smiling like a lunatic. Was this guy sure he dislikes pain? Using this as an advantage, Chuuya delivered a sharp kick into his side, sending him flying several feet. A sharp gasp escaped Dazai’s mouth as the wind was kicked from his lungs. Curse the universe for pairing him up with a naturally strong gingered brute. Rolling across the floor, coming to a stop deathly near the boundary line, Dazai casually got up despite his bones feeling like they’re close to shattering at the slightest inconvenience, and smiled cheerfully at his partner.

“Chuuya! That kick wasn’t strong enough,” he pointed down at the boundary line, tilting his head mockingly, “are you getting weaker perhaps?” Chuuya furrowed his brows, now fully pissed at the younger. Sprinting forward, no one in the viewing room had seen it coming, though they were all watching with bated breaths; they had yet to see someone withstand against the brunette; much less take a kick and get up casually like it’s Tuesday. They watched as Dazai happily dodged the other’s attacks, many missed punches, kicks, yet a(n) (nearly) equivalent amount that landed, injuring the brunette, who continued to have adequate space between the two of them. Chuuya was red in the face from the continuous taunting, so the next action of his shouldn’t have been a surprise, but 1A doesn’t know the norm for these two.

Chuuya lunged forward, yanking Dazai by his shirts collar and throwing him; the brunette hadn’t even appeared shocked or scared, instead, smiling and laughing his head off, though the “fun” of the situation depleted when he was brought close to the boundary line, again. Standing shakily to his feet, Dazai huffed amusedly, turning around to taunt the ginger again only to find him close to his face, delivering a sharp kick toward his sternum.

‘Oh,’ was all he thought before pain enveloped his body and his body felt light. Not due to Chuuya’s ability working on him, but due to him getting kicked through the air. His chest hurt heavily from the impact of a tiny man’s foot, and the sliding across the floor hadn’t helped, especially when the sliding turned into staggered rolling. Aizawa called the match and Chuuya smiled proudly at his victory, strolling over to the younger and bending down to happily take his flags.

“Chuuya’s so rude!” Dazai coughed out, willing his muscles to stop shaking.

“Ah, suck it! And I will be telling everyone about this,” grinned the shorter.

“No fair! Besides, they know you can beat me up; you’re such a brute, it’s practically your entire reputation!”

“Oh, fuck off!” The two bickered as Dazai got up from the ground, dusting off his clothes, and wiping the small amount of blood to escape his nose (it was not a small amount, Aizawa had to force him to go to the nurse).

Aizawa allowed everyone to go on a small break before he figured out Midoriya’s opponent, meaning that left time for people to crowd around Chuuya, praising him for his strength as Bakugo stood on the side, scowling. Or was he grinning? It was hard to tell. Chuuya answered whatever questions he could, biting back eye rolls or scoffs since Kouyou taught him better than his street ways. Then there was Iida, who scolded him to hell and back about how violent he’d gotten, and Chuuya listened, even if it made him want to scoff in the teen’s face since he means well. After the robotic-like teen had left, believing the conversation over, Mina, Kirishima, and Kaminari crowded around him again, having backed away like mice when a cat enters.

“You’re crazy powerful, dude!” Mina complimented, Kirishima next to her, publicizing him up as well.

“How’d you get so strong? You threw him!” Kaminari boasted like the teen he was before suddenly remembering where he was born and dimming slightly. Chuuya stared at him confused, “how tough is Yokohama?” The teen whined out, and suddenly, everyone praising the ginger’s strength dimmed, too, the rumors circulating around the place re-entering their minds.

“Yokohama is as tough as any other place on earth; it’s not special. Trust me,” Chuuya scowled, “the only reason I’m strong is so I can protect my loved ones. Not some cruel environment.” Though that last part is a technical lie (since growing up a street rat isn’t exactly a delightful way to live and will teach you some things about life), the protecting part is factual; he first used his strength to protect the Sheep, he now uses his strength to keep Yokohama as a whole safe, and by association, the Port Mafia, too. Him being weak is why the Flags aren’t here, and it’s something he never wants to be again if it means his friends don’t meet senseless deaths. He wasn’t going to say all of that to wannabe heroes. That’ll bring their mood down and stone down the views they have of the city. Chuuya thought to himself for a moment: what if he changed their views? The last time they brought it up, it put Chuuya in a bad mood, so they are a tad more careful when mentioning the city; however, if Chuuya gets them to change their crude opinions of a place they’ve never visited— and probably never will— then they’ll be on more equal footing and he doesn’t have to rethink being their bodyguards (this is a joke! (Just in case someone can read his mind or something)).

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

Dazai sat on the infirmary bed, kicking his legs slightly as they barely hanged above the ground; he was growing too tall. Not that it’s an issue since any upper hand against a certain brute was welcomed, but it does take away the fun of swinging your legs so fast you hurt them. The nurse had informed him that his sternum was bruised (no shit) and to keep ice on it for 48 hours (about 2 days) while dismissing him from any class activities until further notice. Dazai was ecstatic. His classmates or teacher probably won’t be, and he’s sure as hell the nurse isn’t since Dazai’s positive she takes pride in healing injuries to the best of her capabilities, and to have an anomaly like him in front of her saddens her slightly. Anyhow, he can focus whatever time out dragging out the traitor and currently, he’s in the perfect place. The infirmary. Nurse’s office. Whatever you want to call it; it has everyone’s medical records, parental phone numbers, etc. Dazai racked his brain for the potential traitors Chuuya sniffed out.

Toru Hagakure — self-explanatory; she’s invisible, so she could make a good spy.

Yuga Aoyama — there’s something off about him; he’s funny with his dramatic phrasing, but other than that, he’s awfully lonely. There was also some other stuff included about his quirk being very incompatible with his body.

Mezo Shoji — His quirk is good for spying. Not much merit since he’s incredibly selfless, but who knows?

Kaminari Denki — rather dull in the mind category, yet he has vivid details of things.

Dazai will have to find a way to get their student files, but taking advantage of the medical room is the best thing he can do right now, especially since the nurse wants him in bed rest for some time until the pain meds kick in. Not that they will; she hadn’t given him a good dose. A reasonable dose, yes, but it won’t do much.

Glancing around the room for the short elder (not shorter than Chuuya; she deserves better than to be shorter than a dog) and not noticing any sign of her, Dazai’s eyes tracked the room for any cameras. There were a few (what a shocker), so he couldn’t act just yet, but then a thought traced his mind; Nezu is aware of their jobs here, Nezu has informed teachers of the special rules set in place for them, so if he were to get caught snooping, surely the mutt would come up with something because if they get caught, he goes down with the ship, too. Yet no matter how logical it sounded, Dazai was too paranoid to place such trust in a mutt who is suspicious of him.

Dazai will just have to commit a break in at the end of school, meaning he won’t be going to the dorms later.

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

It was the ending of the class and Chuuya was the victor of the final round. Midoriya had gotten unlucky and had Chuuya as his battle partner, so that wasn’t much of a fight, especially since Chuuya got the results he wanted from the very beginning: Dazai having to clean the classroom. Bakugo wasn’t happy when he lost to the ginger, demanding a rematch since Chuuya barely put in any effort and used gravity against the blond, but Chuuya honestly couldn’t care; if they had a rematch, the outcomes would be the same with the same amount of effort put into it.

Then, Aizawa had asked him to visit him after class once everyone who lost busied themselves with the cleaning. Chuuya was slightly confused before recalling he had sent Dazai to the infirmary.

“Sensei,” Chuuya greeted once the door closed, making a deep clicking sound.

“Chuuya,” Aizawa returned the gesture, looking as he always does; indifferent.

“Is there anything you need?”

“Yes, while I understand that Nezu instructed you to not hurt our students, it would be beneficial for you to tone down your hits against Dazai,” he answered, “Recover Girl has informed me he has a bruised sternum and will need four to six weeks of rest to heal it.” Chuuya should’ve felt bad, but in all honesty, he thanked the lord for the break, but then a thought crossed his mind: Dazai won’t be required to clean. God fucking–!

The school halls are quiet and dim, the only noise being from teachers exiting the premises after last-minute grading while checking the halls for any stragglers. They hadn’t found any — mostly because they checked in the wrong places, but you can’t shame the dumb. Dazai peaked from around a corner; it led to nowhere special, a bathroom that’s out of use due to someone getting scared and activating their quirk. Recovery Girl told him that he should keep movement to a minimum — below even the bare — with his sternum injury; however, Dazai’s been through much worse in worse places, so he doesn’t listen. Honestly, Dazai wouldn’t be able to tell you why doctors recommend things to him… oh, Dazai-kun, you can’t drink all the medicine in the medical cabinet; oh, Dazai-kun, stop trying to slit your wrist with dull scalpels; they won’t do the trick… anywho, Dazai blended with the shadows as he kept to the wall, making his way to the infirmary; he would try his luck and break into Nezu’s office, but that doesn’t seem smart. In the future perhaps. Standing close to the wall, the figure of recovery girl leaving her office had Dazai’s eye narrowing.

To most, the situation would seem disconsolate, and it technically would be had Dazai not spotted a mechanical pencil on the ground. Stalking closer to it, keeping close to the wall as Recovery Girl busied herself, locking her door, Dazai quietly bent down and picked it up; it was fancy — not that it mattered — and Dazai hopes whoever lost it won’t be pissy about his next actions.

Once he sneaked to a different spot, his arm drew back, torso slightly twisting, and the pencil flings through the air.

THUD

It hit a nearby window, garnering the nurse’s attention with a violent flinch. Dazai hid, clutching his chest in pain.

“Is anyone there? You shouldn’t be on school grounds at this time,” she called out, leaving behind her door as she plodded toward the noise. Dazai quickly leaves the spot in case she decides to investigate where it came from, holding back a few winces.

Gently opening the door, being mindful of any creaks, and slipping into the antiseptic-scented room, closing the door again. A silent buzz vibrated his pocket, annoying him slightly. What if his ringer wasn’t off?

Cat Post:

Meet at the usual hideout; we have someone we’d like you to meet.

Normally, Dazai would brush off commands from those who’d have a much better time commanding a bored cat, but Dazai was also curious.

In response he wrote back:

I’ll be there in ~twenty minutes.

Dazai tucked the phone away into his pocket and resumed his goal. Creeping over to the desk, Dazai, upon noticing the lock, smiled happily and reached into his bandages, pulling out a paper clip and bending it straight with his fingers. Crouching, he smoothly inserts it into the lock, wiggling it around for less than four seconds before a satisfying click sounds. Grinning victoriously, Dazai pulls open the drawer, pushing back folders to read their names.

3-K…2-D…1-A!

Dazai pulls out the folder, skimming through all his classmates for the few suspected before coming across his and Chuuya’s. There wasn’t much information put onto them other than their grievances with hospital-like settings; however, Dazai does faintly recall Recovery Girl staring at him oddly since he never appeared distraught and walked around like he owned the place. Eh, whatever. Putting back their files, resisting the urge to add bogus information to Chuuya’s (would it really be a crime to put “is allergic to chocolate, alcohol, and caffeine” on his medical file?), and quickly snapped clear photos of what he came for — front and back — before locking everything away and sneaking out the room. Looking left and right, Recovery Girl wasn’t where he’d last seen her, nor did he hear anything of her searching for the pencil thrower, so not wanting to stay like a dumbass and get caught, he closed the door quietly and scurried away.

***

Maneuvering around the security bots have never felt more tiring; Dazai slipped through the gate, making his way down to the hideout agonizingly slow. He did not want to go, yet his gut was telling him he’d be pissed if he misses this opportunity, and who is he to not listen to his gut?

Walking away from civilization, the bright, flashy lights and late-night heroes posing as small crowds surrounded them became mere background noise the deeper he goes into the run-down parts of Musutafu. Now, instead of cheerful people surrounding the approved arrogances of society, the sound of coughs, begging, or fighting (over what? Who knows) became the majority. Dazai paid them no mind.

“Hey, you! Pretty boy!” Dazai continued to pay no mind, even as the sound of footsteps got closer — staggered footsteps, like the person’s injured. It was only when the stranger touched his shoulder did he react, grabbing ahold of his arm, and yanking it, making them lose balance, falling to the ground pathetically. Bending his arm, Dazai glared at the stranger.

“While I appreciate the compliment, I don’t appreciate you touching me,” the tone of voice was cold; the man was trembling, “is there anything you need?”

“Just some money! I broke my foot a day ago!” The guy cried out, trying to escape before painfully sobbing out; he made the wrong move and now his arm’s dislocated. Whoops. Dazai huffed, letting go of the man, dropping ¥2,889 near him (just in case they ever see each other again; it’d be sad to have your cover blown by a random person) and walking away, uncaring of the looks sent his way by other, long uncared for fools. He sighed heavily. Eyes widening, his chest felt like it would implode, making his breathing harder as he clutched onto the wall. Inhaling felt like thorns stabbing into his lungs, causing his breaths to be shallow and unsatisfactory. Could he die from this? No, yet would it be painful if he could? From the looks of it, yeah.  Boring. Honestly, Mori’d never let a sternum injury get this bad since that’d hinder his field work, but the doctor-turned-mob boss wasn’t here to strap him down on a bed and force recovery upon him.

Tumbling his way to the hideout, more people looked upon his situation as he slowed his strut toward the run-down building; they were all staring in pity or in a “got you” way. Dazai just can’t stop making enemies! How lovely.

Standing in front of a molding building that even an architect wouldn’t want to be near, Dazai slowly pushed open the creaky, broken door, revealing the LoV sitting about, whispering to themselves as Shigaraki scratched at his neck, visibly unpleased with whatever’s being suggested.

“You texted?” The dull voice spooked a few in the room, Toga reaching for her knife before realizing who it was, smiling creepily at him. Dabi hadn’t much of a reaction, sitting bored and arms crossed. The others, Dazai hadn’t cared much to note. Shigaraki paused his scratching, looking at Dazai head on through the mask covering his face before reaching up slowly, taking it off to reveal a manic grin. Dazai showed no reaction to the chapped face, strolling over to a stool and sitting as if he wasn’t the anomaly in the room.

Shigaraki didn’t answer Dazai, instead, motioning for Spinner to bring someone out. The gecko human obliged, going to a back room covered by a withering blanket. They continued to stare at one another, no one daring to speak, even as silent chatter came behind the cover before begrudging footsteps followed Spinner out of the room.

Now Dazai isn’t one to get surprised easily; the person was on the suspect list, but his mahogany eye couldn’t help but widen slightly before relaxing into indifference.

“I’m sure you know Yuga Aoyama,” Shigaraki grinned, “Dazai.” The sound of his name would’ve made anyone stiffen, but Dazai  wasn’t anyone; it’s obvious he got it from the blond staring at him in shock, and what could he do with a name? Dazai tries not to put such power on things you could change on a whim.

“Oh, wow, you know my name! Well, so do I.” The corners of Shigaraki’s terribly chapped lips faltered, the “got him” satisfaction dissipated, and he now looked close to throwing a fit. Grumpily, he turned toward Kurogiri, whispering something to him as the misty second-in-command consoled him to not throw a tantrum.

Shigaraki, still pissed but slightly relaxed, reached for his whiskey glass, all fingers touching it, and sneered down at it as it decayed into dust.

“Well, while this all seem lovely, I’d like to know why I’m here.” Dazai paid no attention to the still-wide gaze of Aoyama’s; the teen looked as if he wanted to say something to Dazai, yet he wasn’t given a glance to begin.

“I want you two to work together. Aoyama is here as a spy on our behalf, and you are there as a spy for whatever agenda you may have; I believe we can benefit each other,” Shigaraki began, taking a careful sip of no-good whiskey, Kurogiri having replaced the decayed cup. Dazai scoffed.

“Don’t you remember why this alliance started?” Grinned their leader, “so we can benefit each other; this is a good thing, right?” Dazai pursed his lips at the words; the alliance didn’t start until Dazai shot him, but whatever.

“And if we betray each other?”

“Too much to lose on either side; you don’t help us gain victory over the heroes and we can’t assist you on your personal agenda against said heroes. There’s also the loss of spies on both ends.” Shigaraki grinned, thinking he has sway. Dazai leaned back, tilting his head, finally gazing at Aoyama, who’s eyes are wide with confusion and hidden fear. So, an unwilling accomplice.

Pulling out his phone, Dazai quickly checks the medical records for the blond, confusing everyone in the room, yet they waited patiently (or as patient as they could muster).

His quirk not sitting right with his body despite having it for a long time… similar to the way Midoriya’s quirk wouldn’t cooperate until the teen found better ways to regulate it… Aoyama working with the League… the leader of the League having the power to steal and transfer power(s) like candy… ah, makes sense. He didn’t point out his findings, instead storing them away for safe keeping. Shutting his phone off, Dazai gave a playful grin to everyone in the room.

“And if I decline?”

“Well, I don’t believe you lack the brains to do so,” Kurogiri spoke, watching him eerily quiet. Waiting for him to become a threat. Waiting for something, yet it’ll never come. Alert. Smart he is for being so, dumb he is for not understanding who’s the bigger threat.

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“We can always expose you worldwide for this meeting and every other one. Remember, we have information on you,” threatened the chronic scratcher, grinning madly; his “smile” could kill if it wants to. That’s not a compliment.

“Everyone has some form of information on me; you guys aren’t that special.”

“Oh, then it appears you aren’t that secretive then.” Shigaraki thinks he has him in a trap, but he merely misunderstood what Dazai was implying. “Especially now that I know you’re Yokohaman — thanks to him.” Shigaraki gestured at Aoyama, grinning like he won the lottery. Too bad it’s rigged.