A blade sliced through the air, not a sound beyond the thin whisper of air splitting. A glint of dark steel in the garage's low light and the thick, choking smell of oil. The blade strikes metal, and the near silence is cracked open by the sound of wood tearing.

Another few knives follow in close succession, a pack of angry bats spilling blood at their master's beck and call. They slice cleanly into the target, mercilessly lacerating the human-shaped wood with deadly injuries.

He paused, approaching the target with a cold and analytical gaze. A click of his tongue, and he began roughly pulling out the knives.

Disappointed, that's how he felt. Izuku had one more day, no, only a few hours until the test at UA. He had lost a month of prep time, and had a week to pull himself together. Many of his gains, gone. Many of his honed skills, gone. His endurace, gone. He had an even worse chance to get in than he did even two months earlier.

What would happen if he was rejected? He had spent the past year training and preparing to be a hero, and so what was he supposed to do if it all went to waste? Mom wanted to send him to a special needs school, as if that would "save" him from his quirklessness. Izuku grit his teeth, and threw another knife with all the strength he could muster, burying it in the wooden target.

She couldn't save him from his quirklessness. He didn't even need to be saved. Running from it, hiding from it, being ashamed of it, that was how to let it control his life. He wanted - no, needed - to live in spite of his weaknesses, not in the shadow of them. That's why he couldn't afford to think about failure. Every thought he dedicated to his doubt was a thought not going into planning, strategizing, and eventually, succeeding. But what if that didn't help? What if he still failed?

Gritting his teeth and furrowing his eyebrows, he launched another volley of knives into the target. Four hit vital areas, and one hit just below the arm. He totaled 103 hits to 21 misses.

Consciously, he knew that was decent , maybe even good. After all, knives do well in the hit-and-run style HImiko helped him hone, and not many of his opponents would know how to defend against them in the first place. But…

He was still a Deku. A Deku fighting tooth and nail to justify his existence in the most elite of hero schools and, eventually, the highest ranking of heroes. He couldn't just "not fail." He had to win. He had to-

"I'm sure you'll do great!"

Izuku screamed, a hair's width away from throwing his knife at Himiko. He spun on his heel, his eyes wide. "H-Himiko, when did you get there?!"

"About five minutes ago." She beamed, her sharp white teeth displayed in pure amusement as she sat in the garage's single black bean bag, her legs folded up criss-cross-apple-sauce. A giggle escaped her lips, but Izuku didn't think she was trying to contain it in the first place. "You just seemed so focused, I didn't want to interrupt!"

"I nearly threw a knife at you!"

Himiko cast a coy glance towards the target, with two knives sticking out of it, and then back towards Izuku, a mix of smugness and a challenge in her sunflower eyes. "Are ya in the mood for a fight?"

Izuku just let out a defeated sigh. "I know, my knife throwing could still improve a lot... But I thought it might be useful…"

"... It will be. You don't need to be so worried, though." Himiko's smile fell a bit, becoming softer and more careful, before it's teasing edge returned. "You've been fighting me all year, after all, and I'm a lot more dangerous than anything they'll throw at you!"

He weakly chuckled, more at her unflinching optimism than from any restored confidence. Still, he joined her on the bean bag, his muscles limp and sore.

Himiko giggled, snuggling into his neck and ruffling his damp hair. Honestly, Izuku would never understand why she liked cuddling with him after he practiced. But he most certainly wouldn't complain.

Himiko hummed, and then looked up at him from his chest. "You'll succeed tomorrow. I just know it."

"Why? H-how?" The fire that had filled his eyes the entire day had slipped, his eyes just becoming heavy and nervous.

She smiled, as though it was the most simple on Earth. "Because you only lose when you give up. And I know you won't."

"... I hope so..."

A few minutes passed before they spoke again, the two simply enjoying each other's presence. But Izuku noticed how Himiko looked at him when she thought he wasn't looking. She looked… nervous. Afraid. And more anything, sad.

Her look, it dug into his soul. Leaning back, he finally closed his worried eyes.

"Ya know what we should do?" Izuku's eyes flickered open at the sound of her voice, and he was greeted by Himiko's wide smile.

"Uh…" He grasped for any answer that made sense. Of course, as he was dealing with Himiko, that strategy was bound to failure. "... head home?"

"Nah, it's only seven!" She laughed, shaking her head. "You need a good luck charm!"

)ooOoo(

The bus rumbled down one nighttime street after another, but the only sign that it was past sunset were the stars directly up. The sidewalks and people were well lit by neon signs and street lamps, as filled by people at night as at day. Izuku relaxed in his seat, lazily watching open-air ramen bars and antique shops pass..

Musutafu wasn't a big city; certainly not compared to nearby cities like Shizuoka or Nagoya. But it was still large enough to have different areas, like the East Strip and the West Gate. But the one right outside the bus window, the one Izuku liked the most, was Steel Town.

It was usually a quiet area of town, its last old steel mill long since gone silent for the last time. Instead, it's goliath steel and brick factories have grown new life, filled with old-style cafes and tea shops, hundreds of little start-up stores tucked within the district's brick-laid labyrinth. To the south was the packed steel towers of downtown, and to the north stretched a seemingly endless forest of suburbia.

But that wasn't why he liked being here. No, that reason was the heroes.

Steel Town was where Warp and Dragonbreath were typically stationed, two local heroes that were the stars of north Musutafu. Dragonbreath was an older man, a last-generation hero, in the same vein as All Might and Endeavor. He used his fiery abilities in an older, power-based style, his heavy samurai armour holding back his speed, but his raw strength more than making up for it. Warp was newer, though; She graduated from a local hero school two years ago, making a name for herself with her ability to seemingly be able to out-maneuver and out-pace any opponent with, as it appears to Izuku, the ability to teleport for short distances. Her strong kicks and space-themed uniform set her apart from any other hero in the area, only overshadowed by the downtown heroes like Mt. Lady.

Izuku sighed, looking from the bus window to the blonde snuggled up against his arm. A slight smile slipped past his exhausted sigh. He knew she was awake, but she looked like she was asleep, making it impossible for him not to watch her with bittersweet eyes.

When she slept at his side, she looked at peace, as though she had solved everything that bothered her. But in reality, when she was awake, it was apparent that she was constantly trying to solve something unbearingly terrible, even behind her happy smile and warm eyes. There was something wrong, something that had been haunting her for weeks.

Izuku just wished he knew what it was.

"This is our stop!"

"Huh?"

He snapped out of his trance, realizing that Himiko was dragging him out of his seat and toward the bus door.

"Oh, uh, sorr-!"

Himiko just laughed. "Just come on!"

The bus driver simply rolled his eyes.

And like that, the two teens stood on the sidewalk, and the bus squeakily closed its doors, giving a tut-tut as it pulled back into traffic.

Izuku turned around, seeing the FamilyMart behind them, and raised an eyebrow. "... A good luck charm from here..?"

"Nope! Though a snack might be nice after!" She snickered at the thought. But before he could say something, she grabbed his hand, guiding him into a nearby backalley, and then another, and another. It took several minutes of walking to be out of the bright neon lights that defined the area, instead replaced by the pitch black alleyways that seemed abandoned by society.

Finally, after enough walking to make his legs become sore again, they reached what seemed to be a dead end, with only a single, blood red neon sign.

GATEWAY

Izuku froze, but Himiko skipped forward, an excited grin on her face as she knocked in rapid succession on a steel door. Izuku didn't know how, but he knew that this wasn't a place where people were supposed to be. It was a gut instinct, he should grab Himiko and just retrace their steps back to the bus stop, as fast as he possibly could. But he just stood there, a mix of fear and grotesque interest folding his feet to the ground.

There was some shuffling behind the door, before a viewport slid open, revealing a set of tired, scarred eyes. "Who is it?"

"It's meee!" Himiko waved, as if greeting a friend.

The man groaned, followed by a variety of curses, before responding. "You better have money this time, girl."

"Yep, we do!" She nodded, gesturing to a still motionless Izuku.

The pair of eyes watched Izuku, a shark smelling fresh meat in the water, but simply groaned once again and closed the viewport with a loud scrape. The door opened, a scream in the quiet alley, and the men waved the two in before closing and locking the door behind them.

Izuku wasn't sure what he was expecting; something grimy, something sinister? Darker, maybe even bloodstained.

Whatever it was, it wasn't this.

A few tables, three short shelves neatly lined up in rows. A cash register and a stack of paper bags. A well swept tile floor, and some recycling bins.

And rows upon rows of guns, knives, incendiary bombs, brass knuckles, and seemingly every illegal weapon Izuku could imagine.

His stomach dropped like a lead ball in the ocean.

"H-H-Himiko, is this a black market? Izuku, whipped around, speaking in a whispered panic. "We shouldn't be here!"

"Don't worry." Himiko twirled around a nonchalant smile on her face, as if they were brave little children exploring a cave near their house. "I've been here plenty of times, and nothing has ever happened. I just thought you'd like something!"

Izuku glanced around, the cold, dull reflections of pistols and rifles attracting his eyes. Want something? What was she expecting him to want?! And she had been here before? How often? Why?!

His internal panic was broken by the shopkeeper's gruff voice.

"All American imports. All of them guaranteed to get the job done well." He glanced over at Himiko, tired irritation in his eyes. "You's better buy somethin' before you leave, though, and don't touch anythin' unless ya intend to buy it. You hear that, girl?"

Himiko gave a big, innocent smile, a child in a candy shop.

For a moment, there was a bit of silence. Himiko crouched, looking at a cluster of small revolvers, like toys through the window. The man leaned back in his chair, lighting a cheap cigarette, but his eyes never left the two kids. Izuku licked his lips, still shaking, but beginning to calm down.

None of these were loaded. The shop owner wouldn't shoot them either. Hopefully. Looking at the man from the corner of his eye, He didn't look like a thug. He was skinny, really, but a big gash-like scar did cross over his left eye, and his hair was pulled back in a ponytail. No tattoos, no big muscles, he even seemed to have a gentle face if you looked past the scar and ragged mustache. But the "nice old man" idea fell flat with any closer examination. His steel-toed boots and concrete gray camo brought an air of casual confidence and casual violence to him, only emphasized by the pistol at his hip. It didn't look like the type just designed to disable. The cute puppy dog callender beside his cash register was mirrored by a box of makeshift bomb parts on the other side, and a flag hung on the back wall, a black star on a white strip, flanked by crimson red stripes. Izuku frowned, facing the man directly and placing his hands politely by his sides.

"... Sir, why do you do this?"

"'Sir?'" The man paused, surprised, but then let out a hearty laugh, rocking back in his seat. He roughly combed his long coal hair back with his gloved fingers, and smiled with a set of leathery lips. "Damn, son, you're makin' me feel ol'. Just call me Shiro. I wanna help my people, and there ain't a better way than this."

Izuku cocked his head, genuine confusion in his green eyes. "What do you mean… 'your people?'"

Shiro grunted and rolled his eyes. "All ya damn quirkies, wandering it my shop, without the slightest clue why I'm here. Didn't ya tell him, girl?"

Himiko popped her head up from behind a row, holding back a giggle. "I must've forgotten!"

"Ya damned liar." Shiro clicked his tongue, then turned back to Izuku. "Do ya know a single thing about bein' quirkless?"

"... Huh?"

"Yeah, yeah, the two of you are a sweet little pair of quirky kids. Ain't never had to deal with the big bad world." He leaned forward, setting a pair of heavy arms on the counter as a dark scowl crossed his face. He suddenly seemed so much larger, so much… angrier.

Izuku flinched.

"I-" Fear tried to freeze his limbs, but he forced the words out, chewing on his lips and glancing between Shiro and the floor. "I'm quirkless too."

Shiro paused, surprise in his eyes. "Well damn. Youngest I've seen had to of been double your age." he leaned back in his seat, puffing his cigar and nodding slowly. Finally, He took out the cigarette, snuffing it out on a well-scorched piece of the glass counter.

He looked Izuku up and down. A glint of interest in his chocolate eyes. Then, he started speaking, slowly and heavily. "Son, you are one of my people. I sell this to defend people. This world is a damn dangerous place for people like us."

He tapped right under his scarred eye, drawing Izuku's eyes to it.

"W-what happened..?" Izuku stared at him.

"Fighting for my people." Shiro's dark smile simply widened, in the sardonic, crude way of someone showing off battle scars. "A group down in Kitakyushu. Some nationals got into our group. Came for our guns and bombs while we packed meals for some locals. Fuckin' blew through the window, guns a-blazing. I was honestly a lucky kid, only got this scar. A lot of the others lost their lives, and the unlucky ones lost their freedom."

Izuku's eyes went wide, watching the man. It was only then he saw the details, tiny scars all over Shiro's body. The flag suddenly clicked. He knew who this man was. He was part of the Vanguard.

This man was a terrorist.

He gulped, his whole body shaking.

Shiro continued, seemingly entertaining himself by watching Izuku's reactions. "We're still out there. Some of em are planning to do it again, but," He rolled his eyes. " I ain't that idealistic."

Izuku quickly nodded, his mouth refusing to speak. Not that he had anything to say. He just wanted to get out, to disappear and pretend he had never seen this place.

"Nah, those new kids are idiots." Shiro continued, Sucking on his cigarette. He waved his hand at his merchandise. "I sell this to locals, the people that need 'em. You call 119, there are three options: the police show up, who ain't got the money or organization to do shit, a hero shows up, who puts on a show and break every damn thing to look better, or three, no one shows up in time, meaning you're fucked."

He tapped on the glass counter, looking at his pistols. "This option, number four, is the best, 'specially for us quirkless. They might have fancy moves, some magic powers, but I have yet to see one that can out-do a bullet." Another set of his bombastic laughter filled the room.

"T-thank…" Izuku bit his lip, then bowed. "Thank you Shiro, for, uh… the new perspective."

"'Course, kid. Hell, since you're such a youngin', I'll give ya half off your purchase!" He smiled like the fun uncle everyone seemed to have. "Now then, what're ya interested in?"

Huh?

No.

Nononono.

He was not buying something from here.

Even if the man said he had to.

He couldn't.

But all his traitorous mouth could stutter was "I, uh… I don't know…"

Shiro laughed. "No need to be so nervous, kid. I won't bite ya!"

Somehow, Izuku didn't quite trust that.

"How about this," The man stretched and stood up from his chair, revealing his tall, barrel-like body. "I'll take a look at ya, and ask a few questions. Then I'll find ya somethin' good."

Izuku meekly nodded, casting a nervous look at Himiko. She simply squatted, her chin in her palms as she watched with glee.

Shiro walked around the counter, grabbing Izuku's wrist and pulling up his sleeve. Izuku shuttered as the man ran his fingers down his arm, earning a chuckle from Shiro. And as fast as he looked at Izuku's arms, he slid the sleeves back down.

"Well now, those are some well developed bi- and triceps." He stole a quick glance at his legs. "And from what I can see, your calves and thighs are well built too, givin' you're a teen. Ya ever boxed?"

"N-no, sir"

"I said call me Shiro."

"Sorry."

"Well, ya should try it. You got the body type for it." Shiro stood back up, scratching his stubbled chin as he looked over the boy. "Ya have any skills? It's obvious you've worked out plenty."

"Well, uh…" Izuku watched the ground with nervous intensity. "... Not really… I can throw knives, I guess..?"

Shiro whistled. "That's a new one. Not many people use it. Why'd ya choose it? Or was it just to be cool? Not a good idea to do that.'"

"Of course not." Izuku snapped up, almost offended. "I worked it into a wider strategy!"

Shiro quirked an eyebrow, and Izuku shrunk back, realizing he shouted.

"Well then," He leaned back, balancing on the counter. "Let's hear it."

Himiko's smile widened, a proud glint in her eyes.

"Looking at my abilities,I know I'm at a natural disadvantage in straight up fights, and most other fights, really," Izuku sighed, knowing he would have to explain it in detail, or this military man would dissect him with questions. "So that means I have to control the environment and situation of the fight more than anything. Strike where they're weak."

"Basically the underlying tactic of the Vanguard, yes." Shiro nodded, as if in approval. Izuku shook, the similarities drawn were less than comforting. The man gestured to continue.

"So, uh…" The smell of gunpowder and steel suddenly seemed far more present than before. "Because of that, I rely on stealth and lure tactics, and try to only attack from mid to long range, in order to limit the attacks of opponents."

The man smiled, brushing dust off his camouflage pants as he stood up. "So, stealth and mobility, huh?"

Izuku paused, but nodded. "I, uh, I guess."

"I can work with that." He turned and began marching down the aisle, waving for Izuku to follow.

The shop was deceptively small, actually significantly larger once the two turned a corner and entered through a steel door. The somewhat pleasant shelves and soft white light of the front room was replaced with what appeared to be a repurposed parking lot. Dull, flickering lights hung from the concrete ceiling, bathing the chilly room in unreliable, cold light. At the end of the room an exit had been boarded and taped over, labelled "CONDEMNED", but the whole thing rested on hinges, as if nothing more than a decorative door. The soft hum of electricity filled the room, along with the stench of oil and metal. In the room sat rows upon rows of weapons, an even wider and deadlier variety than those in the front room. Izuku's eyes flicked back and forth, unable to comprehend that weapons like this existed in his hometown, while Shiro merely scanned the shelves, searching for something.

The two didn't speak. Izuku was dead silent. Shiro muttered to himself. But finally, the man broke the silence.

"Not everything in here is American imports." He paused, looking down an aisle, and Izuku joined him. "Take a look at the selection."

And there sat dozens of old, unmarked hero gear.

"W-What!?" Izuku rushed in, grabbing pieces he recognized. They… they were almost identical to the actual ones! Some minor color differences, but… these weren't costumes or replicas. Looking back towards Shiro, Izuku gave him an uncertain look.

Shiro chuckled, putting another smoke in between his lips and lighting it. "They ain't originals, if that's what you're askin'. But if ya got connections, you can get damn near anything." He took a long drag from his cigarette, closing his eyes briefly, before returning to the present. Finally, he gestured behind Izuku. "Far back, bottom left. Those ones might help ya. They don't rely on quirks."

Izuku turned to see, but held himself back. This wasn't right. It's all illegal, that was obvious. Not only that, this was hero-level gear. The sort of stuff that could kill people. But…

He had never been this close. Not to a hero, not to their equipment, not since his encounter with All Might. If nothing else, he could try to see what he could, and write down notes as soon as he got home. That… That was okay, right? That wasn't nearly as illegal.

Creeping towards the equipment, slow and steady as an adventurer discovering an ancient temple, Izuku began to sift through the shelf. Flamethrowers, dart guns, enhancers and lock-breakers. They all felt smooth and fresh, unused and ready to go.

But one in particular caught his attention. A mask.

On the surface, it seemed perfectly normal. Something dramatic teenagers would buy, maybe. Smooth black leather coated the surface, glistening in the garage's low light, decorated with long, golden fangs. Picking it up, he ran his fingers up on of the wolfish fangs-

"Ouch!" Izuku pulled his hand back, seeing blood bubble out of his finger.

"Careful, it's sharp." Izuku's head snapped up, catching sight of Shiro joining him in the aisle.

Kissing the blood off his finger, Izuku stared at the mask. "... What is it?"

"Dangerous, that's for sure. The hero that used it had their license suspended for fatally injuring too many villains, which says somethin', considering how loosely those laws are enforced." Shiro laughed like a hyena. Ruffling Izuku's hair, Shiro dragged him to his feet. "That thing's a messy little bastard, but not a doubt in my mind it'd serve ya well."

The blood drained from Izuku's face. "What does it do?"

"It's not what it does," Turning around, Shiro began to head back to the front room, leaving Izuku to scurry to catch up. "... It's what you do."

Opening the door, Shiro shouted. "So, what the hell did ya do this time, Girl!?"

Izuku entered just in time to see her recognizable 'far too innocent' smile. "Nothing at all, sir!"

The man groaned, but dropped down into the torn up office chair behind the counter. "Come here, kid.

Timidly, but with more ease than Izuku had felt since he entered the store, Izuku joined the man at the counter, and Himiko joined them.

With well-practiced speed, Shiro rang everything up, including the half-off discount, as promised. Money exchanged hands, but no receipt was given. Finally, he leaned forward, scooting Izuku a single card, white with a black star pressed into it. "Quirkies are a pain in the ass. I may have only a little hope in my generation, but maybe yours will be better." His smile seemed strange, as if endowing Izuku with the mission he failed at. "Call if ya ever need me."

)ooOoo(

The walk through the alleyway was quiet. Himiko was circling him, abuzz with energy, but Izuku… he felt sick. Like seasickness and a rollercoaster all tied up in one, with an extra pinch of insanity. He just bought a who-knows-what from a black market terrorist. A black market terrorist that Himiko had met. And that same terrorist offered "help," whatever that meant.

Oh god. Ooooh god.

Izuku tried to stop his head from spinning, but it was a slow march. Looking at the card, it was simple. A black star on one side, a phone number on the other. Neatly folding it, he tucked it away in his pocket. He should've thrown it away, he knew that. But, he just… didn't. It felt wrong.

"Put on the mask!"Himiko interrupted his thoughts, a wide, catlike smile on her face. She was… casually excited. As if this was a birthday party. As if this was… normal.

"Uh… not yet. Please."

"Aww…" she pouted, but soon returned to her normal, giggling self.

Izuku watched her happy twirls with fear.

When she smiled at him, he noticed her fangs again. He noticed her thin, feline eyes and their toxic yellow irises. He stumbled alongside her, unable to ignore the bloody references she made, of the knives she always carried with her.

He had almost forgotten.

This was the girl that wanted to see him jump from a building.

His easing stomach tied itself back into knots, memories of every off putting thing she'd said in their year returning with a vengeance.

After several minutes of walking, Himiko stopped in front of him, and Izuku noticed the concern in her expression. It didn't seem to fit with her normal face, like a rainstorm in the desert.

"Izu-kun, what's wrong?" She slipped between his arms, giving him a deep hug and nuzzling into his chest.

But it didn't feel good.

Not… not in the same way as before.

It felt wrong. Twisted.

But he couldn't say no to her.

He couldn't resist as she bit his neck, ruffled his hair, and quietly led him forward. But just before they left the alley, she stopped him.

"Do you.. Want to try it on?"

He looked down, his eyes tracing over the mask. Black leather, well shined, and two rows of golden wolf fangs. They were sharp as razors, and ice cold to the touch, even compared to the chilly evening.

Himiko's raw excitement seemed to warm around her, and looking at that smile, Izuku still couldn't resist.

He slipped the mask on, hoping to whoever ruled from above that it wasn't a weapon. He couldn't afford to hurt anyone, not here, not now, not with people passing as they spoke. The material touched his skin, and-

Nothing happened.

The mask just rested on his face, a decorative little thing. As thankful as he had been,he was also disappointed. It had cost 8 000 yen, after all.

But Himiko looked happy, her smile returning.

Izuku didn't know how to feel about that.

"It looks good on you!"

"Yeah... thanks"

Even with the noise on the street, it felt eerily quiet to Izuku. Unnaturally so.

Finally, the two left the alley, standing beside the bus stop, neither knowing how to break the silence. He scratched at the mask. It was comfortable, even a bit warm, but he had never really worn masks. Izuku shivered. The night was cold. The road was loud. The city was still alive. But Izuku was drowning it all out with his internal murmuring.

He was still reeling, and he eyed the girl beside him. He could see in her eyes that she knew she'd messed up. But in what way, Izuku didn't know what she was thinking. Things were starting to add up in a way Izuku wished they wouldn't. An orphan that had lived homeless for months, showing up to watch his suicide, who taught him how to fight in what could only be called a deadly style, taking him to a black mark-

Stop. Would his brain please stop! He didn't want to think about it! He didn't want to-

… He didn't want to know he loved a villain.

He looked around, watching the many nameless people of the city pass and trying desperately to ignore the puzzle that was falling into place in his head.

Musutafu may not be the biggest city, but it was still too large for him to grasp. So to imagine Tokyo, or the whole Kanto region, or Japan as a whole…

Izuku was a kid. A single, lonely, weak kid. He had trained, he had pushed himself to his limits over and over again, but it was still true. Even as a hero, that would probably be true. So how on earth was he supposed to change anything, let alone every hero in the nation?

His dull eyes stared across the street, watching a small store. An old man sat behind the counter, and a large, mammoth, grey-skinned man stood opposite to him, twice the old man's height and with a set of massive tusks protruding from his mouth. It wasn't interesting. It was mundane. And mundanity was something Izuku much preferred to his current thoughts.

But it wasn't as mundane as Izuku expected. The elephantine man bowed deeply, like a samurai asking his daimyo for good graces. The old man scowled, shaking his head. Showing the contents of his brown paper bags, the elephantine seemed to beg, his dark eyes full of fear. But the other still refused, picking up the phone and pointing at it. The large, grey skin man seemed to panic, shouting loud enough that Izuku could hear the gruff, angry screams, even with the dozen-meter distance between them. The old man continued to dial the phone, before speaking into it.

Izuku looked on, confused. A thief? Maybe a burglar, bluffing a threat? Either way, this man was doing something the store clerk didn't want. Feeling the cold steel of his throwing knive's handles, he slowly began to cross the street, determination in his eyes.

"Izu-kun?" Himiko followed close behind him. "Where are we going?"

"You see that store?" His voice was low.

Glancing in the same direction as him, it clicked, and she gave a predatory smile. "I hope we have some fun!"

Izuku couldn't do much. He knew that. But he could at least try.

Looking between the bags and the old man, the large man grit his teeth and snatched up the goods and ran.

He bursts through the doors, eyes darting back and forth in pure panic. "Shitshitshitshit!"

A villain! Izuku knew it! He clenched his jaw, reaching for his knives. He would probably be able to greatly slow him down with strikes to the calves and-

Before Izuku could even grab a knife, the man ran.

His legs moved before his mind did.

Pumping his legs like pistons, Izuku's eyes locked on the man.

Gray hoodie.

Shaved head.

Seemingly unarmed, but definitely dangerous.

Goal: Intercept and arrest.

Pushing people out of his way, he weaved through Steel Town's crowded sidewalks, his eyes never leaving the villain. He needed to catch up! This area was far too dense to risk a fight with a villain of his size!

A back alley? It would be better; less people, and would strange his maneuverability. How? Push harder! The villain slipped out of sight, but Izuku's legs were already screaming at him, demanding he let them rest after the runs he already did today.

No! He wouldn't stop!

Skidding to a stop, Izuku made a hard turn into the back alley, weaving in and out as fast as he could.

Right!

Right!

Left!

Jump!

Kicking off from against the wall, Izuku leapt a gate blocking the alleyway from the main street, before catching the top of it and landing on his feet only strides behind the running villain.

Continuing the chase, a hungry smile spread on Izuku's face. The villain was slowing down, and panting hard as he shoved people out of the way. He was so close! Just a moment more and he could-

"Stop where you are, villain!" A young woman seemingly appeared from thin air, dropping in front of the villain like a paratrooper and making him freeze in place. Her voice was as bold as her smile, and her very presence exuded a sense of confident control. Slipping a baton from each thigh with a stylish twirl, she flicked them on, their bright blue electricity illuminating her like a vengeful sea siren. "Warp has arrived, ready for combat!"

Izuku skidded to a stop, awe in his eyes. It was Warp. He- He had never seen her in person before! All he had seen was blurry WeTube videos and news reports! Any sense of relief that a professional hero was on the scene was instantly overtaken by excitement at the opportunity to study a teleporter up close.

Himiko slowed to a stop behind him, panting just as much as Izuku. "Who-" she paused to catch her breath- "Who's that?"

"That's a local hero, one I've never gotten to study before!" His voice was muffled through his mask, but his weak smile shone through clearly enough. Pulling her with him and he shuffled to the front of an already-forming ring of civilians, he didn't see her sudden frown.

Why hadn't he brought his notebook? He knew heroes frequented this area! His heart still racing from the run, he wiped the sweat from his brow, attempting to focus his eyes on key details. Thick but snug astronaut boots, which seemed to contain boosters on the bottom. Were they for combat or mobility? They were larger than most mobility rockets, or at least seemed like it. Her gloves were made of a similar material, but obviously thinner and more decorative. That makes sense, considering that she supposedly used her legs and stun weapons primarily. Her jumpsuit was a fiery orange, vacuum-sealed and marked with the JAXA insignia. Did JAXA sponsor her? It would make sense, using her as a source of funding for their research. But still-

"You're muttering again." Himiko bumped shoulders with Izuku, but there was nothing lighthearted in her voice.

No, there was fire in her eyes, white hot and deadly. And every drop of it was aimed at the hero in the center of the ring.

"H-Himiko, are you okay?" Izuku frowned, worry in his voice. She rarely got angry, and even less of the time showed it.

"I'm fine." Short, simple, and even more concerning.

"Brutes like you have disturbed the peace before!" Warp shouted over the crowd, as if speaking to them instead of the villain himself. "And I've caught them every time before! You cannot escape the law!"

Izuku's eyes flashed to the villain; his reaction would be important here. Professional villains usually brushed it off and prepared their next move; amatures would panic, either attacking or running without thought.

But the villain did neither. For several seconds, the villain just stood there, terror in his eyes as he looked between the crowd and Warp. Very briefly, the villain met gazes with Izuku. He was a giant, twice Izuku's height. He had thick grey skin and lethally sharp tusks. But he looked like a scared, uncertain child.

Just like he had in the store, bowing to the clerk.

Izuku furrowed his eyebrows. Something here wasn't right.

Then the air popped, a firework exploding in air, and there was Warp, directly above the villain.

"Surrender, villain!"

There was a flash of light, the air ruptured with the sounds of electricity and filled with the sudden smell of burning flesh as Warp brought down her batons on the giant's shoulders. He let loose a loud, groaning scream, stumbling back, and the villain's fear quickly transformed into anger, a bloodcurdling roar. "You little bitc-"

There was another pop, and Warp suddenly appeared behind him, delivering harsh kicks to the backs of his knees. The villain dropped the bags he was clutching, falling to his knees with a loud thud. He was off balance, but he twisted, wildly swinging at her like an angry beast. Dodging, Warp laughed, and the crowd cheered. All except Izuku and Himiko.

Izuku was simply horrified, staring at the dropped bags.

It wasn't valuable goods.

It wasn't alcohol, or jewelry, or computer parts.

It was food.

A bag of rice, some basic fruits and vegetables. Not even any meat.

This man wasn't a villain. Izuku didn't know what to call him, but…

Not a villain. Of that he was certain.

"Ow!" Izuku looked down, slipping his hand away from Himiko. "Why'd you bite me?"

Himiko grimaced, a strange expression to see on her feline face. "I feel we're gonna need it."

The giant stumbled to his feet, scrambling to collect his ill-acquired goods, but there was yet another pop, and Warp appeared in front of him, her feet aimed for his face. The giant grabbed her by her legs, spinning and throwing her into a wall. The crowd gasped, but he simply grabbed his bags and jumped the loose ring around him, sprinting for freedom as cars around him screeched to a stop.

"Oh no you dont!" a bit battered but not injured, Warp once again popped out of existence.

The giant only made it half a block before Warp caught him, returning to her brutal subjugation. As Izuku rushed to catch up with the pair of fighters, he watched Warp land hit after hit, the crowd cheering every time. By the time he closed half the gap between them, the giant was stumbling like a broken wind up toy, covered in bruises and burns.

Why? Why on earth was Warp being this brutal!? This man was a petty thief, but she was attacking him as if he was a dangerous, deadly criminal!

'A hero shows up, who puts on a show and breaks every damn thing to make em look better'

Izuku heard it more clearly now. The crowd chanting Warp's name. Who knew how many were recording it on their phones, let alone how many would see it on the news and social media. The brave Warp, defeating the large and impressive elephantine villain.

Amazing battles meant more coverage.

More coverage meant more fans.

More fans meant more money and fame.

It all clicked in Izuku's head, like the final puzzle piece dropping into place.

Heroes were businessmen, and their business was violence.

In that moment, something in his heart, something very small and delicate, was crushed. Stomped under the feet of reality. Ground to dust.

And all that remained was hatred. He had been lied to, all his life. Lied, deceived, tricked, betrayed. His lungs began to burn, a match struck in his heart, and his muscles flared, begging to be used. The mask tightened around his mouth, hot leather smooth against his skin, and the golden teeth fastened around his jaw, protruding into large, deadly fangs.

"Surrender, and I assure you swift justic-" Warp's proclamation was cut short by a set of golden jaws tearing into her side, Izuku slamming into her with all his force. She screamed in terror and pain as she crumpled to the ground, and the wet sound leather and skin being ripped in open filled the air. Warp brought down her batons, slamming Izuku on the head over and over until he released, and kicking him away.

Some part of Izuku was terrified, both of Warp and himself.

There hadn't been a plan, nothing thought through. He could feel it in his heart, in the way his veins pulsed, the way his breathing was sharp and fast. The only thing moving his body was adrenaline.

And he had attacked a hero. A pro-hero. This wasn't a test fight with Himiko, not a brawl with Bakugo. This woman was trained, and as much as Izuku watched heroes fight, the only training he had gotten was in a back alley.

Oh no.

Warp popped, teleporting a half dozen strides away and on her feet. "You son of a bitch! What the hell do you think you're doing, huh!?" She tried to hold a defensive stance, but she was clutching at her side, and Izuku could see the blood spilling out from under her hand.

But his regret and fear would not sate his anger.

"Look at this man! Look at what you've done to him!" He screamed at her, almost snarling with rage. The giant had stumbled back, leaning against the wall with a pained expression and heavy, labored breathing. Large purple bruises spotted his skin, along with burn marks and painful swellings. Izuku's head spun, but the words kept pouring out. "Is this what heroes are supposed to do? Attack the powerless? Make a show of it?"

"Look, I don't know what the hell you're on," Warp glared at him, continuing the conversation, but Izuku could see her looking for weak points. "But you just attacked a hero of the law. You better not think you can preach as if this villain is the good guy!"

With that she popped out of existence.

And popped back in right behind him.

Izuku just barely dodged a kick to the head. She swung, twirling and spinning like a deadly dancer, and Izuku stumbled back, acting as her inexperienced dance partner. Duck, jump, spin. His boiling blood filled him with raw fury, snapping at the hero with his razor jaws and punching at her even as he dodged and tried to slip from her range. He snagged her leg, but she didn't hesitate, flipping and kicking his neck with her other boot, sending him crashing to the ground.

He hated her.

He hated, hated, hated her!

Izuku would make her pay! For this man and all the others she had hurt! For everyone every hero had unjustly broken under their uncaring heels!

His jaws snapped at her, his hands itched to strangle her, his fingers cried to make her bleed!

He dodged another strike from her electric batons, his stomach flipped inside out. What on earth was he thinking!? He would, couldn't hurt people! It was against everything he stood for! But sweet whispers came from the back of his mind, promising power and pleasure.

Izuku threw up in his mouth.

A plan, a plan, he needed a plan! He was trying to think, but he couldn't even navigate his own mind, filled with an unpierceable red fog of fear, panic, and a disgusting level of bloodlust.

She was a close range fighter with high mobility, how could he-

Warp teleported in front of him, and Izuku tackled her, only to meet the feeling of electric batons burning his shoulder blades. Slipping a knife from his leg, he stabbed her in the shoulder, tearing through her suit before she kicked him off of her.

How was he supposed to counter that!? He coughed, the taste of iron on his lips. His or hers, he didn't know. Something had to activate her teleportation ability! She couldn't just teleport anywhere! But what was it? Sound, knowledge, sight-

She teleported again, but he rolled out of the way. Every muscle on his body screamed, the fire in his lungs spreading. But, in the corner of his mind, he noticed.

Warp wasn't getting slower. But she seemed slower. He could see her more clearly, the red fog clearing. He could hear sharper, every person's cheer or scream, every footstep or camera click. He could smell blood, but more than that. He could smell different bloods, along with oils, smokes, foods, and any number of things he couldn't recognize.

The pain, the bruises, and burns, he couldn't feel them at all.

But the red fog remained.

Izuku spun, kicking Warp's legs out from under her, but she didn't even look at him, popping away. Izuku glaved to where she had been looking, just to see her appear there, landing on her feet.

Despite himself, he smiled. She had one trick, but Izuku had figured it out. Maybe by luck, maybe by study. He didn't have time to contemplate. Before she popped again, he threw one of his knives, hoping the practice had been worth it. It cut through the air, faster than either of them could react, and-

Bullseye.

Warp screamed, wailing incomprehensible words as she staggered back. "My eyes! Fuck, my eyes!"

Her one good eye looked down towards a small watch-like device on her wrist. "Dragonbreath, I need backu-" A second Izuku slammed into her, driving knives into her uninjured side and tearing the device off. He threw it to the ground, smashing it under his heel.

Himiko.

Looking up, the second Izuku shouted. "We need to get out of here!"

Izuku's eyes went wide, but he nodded, grabbing the giant by his hand and half-dragging him into the nearest alley. "Sir, Follow me!" The man stumbled behind Izuku, confused, half unconscious, but not resisting. Himiko followed them in after, her disguise melting into gray goo the moment she entered the alley.

Izuku ran as fast as he could, trying as hard as he could to ignore the blood on his hands.

)ooOoo(

It was late.

Really late. Maybe even early. Izuku didn't dare check.

In the narrow back alleys of Steel Town, it was impossible to tell where you are, let alone where someone went. It had been hours, and no one had come.

No police.

No investigators.

No heroes.

Izuku sighed, his heart flooded with a mix of relief and regret.

Himiko snuggled up to him, half asleep on his arm. After they'd stopped running, the giant had collapsed against a wall, passing out. From pain or exhaustion, they weren't sure. But Himiko had some bottles of ibuprofen and neosporin, so they did what they could. It wasn't nearly enough, not even to cover all of his burns, but it was better than nothing. Probably.

Leaning his head back, Izuku watched the stars. Little pinpricks, he always called them. White pinpricks in a velvet black sky. They looked the same, tonight. It was a comfort, in some way.

He hissed, his sore shoulders acting up. In the past few hours, he had yet to find part of him that wasn't injured. A sick chuckle escaped his lips. Every time he fought, he seemed to put himself out of commision. He knew the entrance exam was tomorrow, but for some reason, he couldn't muster up the ability to panic about it.

No, the thing he was worried about was in his lap.

A little, black leather mask. The material had loosened, the teeth had retracted, but this was the same mask he had worn earlier, the teeth were still stained with Warp's blood. He lifted the mask to his nose, and took a sniff. It smelled like blood.

But it didn't smell like her blood, like it had earlier. He frowned.

This mask had done something to him. He knew that. But he didn't know how much. It had enhanced his senses, that was for sure. But how much? And which ones, and why? How? Too many questions to answer in one night. But one was too large to leave unanswered: had it impacted his emotions?

He had felt it. A hatred. A fury. A desire to kill, to hurt others, to make them bleed for the sake of it. It was… alien to him. Unacceptable.

But it had been there. And now Izuku had to piece together what was him, and what was the mask.

A sound broke the silence, and Izuku's head jerked towards it. The giant was moving, stretching his shoulders and attempting to stand.

"Whoa whoa whoa!" Izuku tried to stand up, gently laying Himiko down and ignoring his complaining leg muscles as he rushed to help the giant back down.

The man groaned. "... Where am I..?" His voice was deep and smooth, but uncertain.

Izuku looked around for a moment, as if he'd suddenly know, but came up empty. "... Safe, I can say that much. How're you feeling?"

He coughed. "Like I've been hit by a truck." His large eyes flickered open, large and dark in the nighttime shadows. "Who are you?"

Izuku hesitated. He shouldn't say his name, but to say nothing at all, or worse… he couldn't. Swallowing, he just said the first thing to come to mind. "I'm… a victim. Just like you."

The giant snorted, rolling his eyes. "You don't know half the stuff I've had to deal with, let alone understand it. Call me Zou." Then he stiffened, "Wait, what time is it?"

"Uh… Really late. Maybe even early morning."

"Shit!" Zou attempted to stand, but his leg gave out under him, forcing Izuku to catch him. "I need to get home! I promised them I'd be home soon! They have to be worried sick!"

"Hey, hey, it's okay." Izuku lowered him to the pavement, unsure what to do. "Who're 'they?'"

Zou looked like he was about to yell, but the sound died in his throat, replaced by a choked, fearful thing. "I-, Well-, My family. My wife and kids. They, I, I promised I'd come home with groceries for dinner. Behind his razor tusks and needle teeth, Zou seemed doeish, skittish and afraid.

Izuku grunted as he sat down beside the giant. "Was that why…?"

"Why I tried to steal from Old Man Jonzu?" Zou sighed, shaking his head. "I promised to pay him as soon as I could. 'Course, that didn't mean shit to Jonzu. He knew I'd lost my job."

"... I'm sorry." There was nothing else Izuku knew to say. The two sat, both looking at the dark pavement ground.

"It was a shit job anyways." Zou huffed, shaking his head. "I just wanna apologize to Jonzu. I… He didn't deserve to be stolen from. But my fuckup ass panicked. But… I just didn't want to tell them. I didn't want my kids to know their father was a broke failure."

"Did you check the food bank?"

"They only have so much, and when they see an elephant walk in…" Zou laughed, but in the way a dead man does before his hanging. "Well, their available food suddenly shrinks a lot."

They fell back into silence, each trapped in their own messed up minds. But, slowly, quietly, Zou began to sob.

"Zou, are you oka-?"

"I was raised on the streets, ya know that?" He spoke through choked gasps. "My old man was a fast food worker his whole life. And he always said-" he struggled to hold himself together. "- He said, I was the hope of his. I was the smart one. He told me to work hard, work my way up, and make sure my kids could have what I didn't. Good food. A good education. A place where the gangs didn't roam and where it was safe to walk the street at night."

Izuku patted Zou's arm, watching a deep concern in his eyes.

"And ya know what? I did. I worked damn hard. I got top of my class, went to college on a full ride, because lord knows my family could barely afford the roof over their heads, let alone that. And I did it. I graduated with honors. But that doesn't matter." He slammed his fist against his leg. "It doesn't fucking matter! Who the fuck pays attention to that when someone that looks like a fucking demon shows up and offers to teach your eight-year-olds! No one! That's who!"

A sort of horror was sinking in for Izuku, but not horror at the new or strange. Horror of the familiar. Horror that stemmed from understanding.

Zou sighed, wiping snot from his nose. "For the past decade, I've worked in construction, along with all the other mutant guys. Some of 'em, I'd known since elementary school. A few did drugs. None had degrees. It wasn't their thing, they'd say. As if they ever had a shot. We'd been fucked long before college." Zou turned, teary eyes watching Izuku. "And a few weeks back, they said they didn't need me anymore. I've been looking and looking, but no one wants someone like me in their workplace. My family still has bills. Car insurance, rent, water, electricity, food. Something had to give."

He looked down, regret in his eyes. "What would you do?"

… Izuku wasn't sure. His family had always been secure. Never rich, but secure. Mom worked hard, and dad sent paychecks. And so, to imagine…

"I wish I could help you."

"Unless you have a job to give me, you can't"

Zou groaned, his limbs twisting as he stood up and leaned against the wall. "Thank you, though. I'm sorry for any trouble I caused you." Pushing forward, he limbed his way down.

"Wait!" Just before Zou turned the corner, Izuku called out to him, and the man paused. "Can… Can I at least get you something?

Zou gave a humourless laugh. "Kid, How old are you? Sixteen? Maybe seventeen if I squint enough? I ain't gonna take your money. You've done enough tonight. Stay safe." Zou gave a nod, and left, the shadows engulfing him.

Izuku sighed, and leaned back against the wall.

"Now, how are you feeling?" Himiko spoke up, herself sitting against the wall.

"... I don't really know." His mouth was dry.

She smiled softly. "You were amazing today."

"I don't feel like I was."

"You defended someone." Himiko scooted closer, nuzzling into him. "Just like you had always wanted to.

That seemed twisted. A distortion of his dream. That dream he had as a kid, people cheering as he saved people, a smile on his face. But…

That dream, it was twisted too. Those heroes, those pure good individuals, they were fake. Actors putting on a show when people's lives were on the line. Izuku would never want to be that, not anymore.

He scowled.

"Himiko, I know who I am."

"Hm?" she perked up, curious.

"I"m not a hero. I won't ever be a hero. I don't have a quirk, I don't have any sense of flare, I don't want to deal with money or fame. All I've ever wanted was to help people." There was determination in his eyes. A mature fire, embers fed fresh wood to burn. "No, my whole life I've been the victim. The weakling, the joke of the class. And the more I see, the more I realize it's not just us two. There are others, so many others. The abused, the abandoned, the oppressed. And those are the people heroes don't save. The ones heroes take advantage of."

"We've had enough heroes." Sitting up, he looked Himiko in the eye. "I am the Victim. And I'm going to tear down this corrupt society."