Chapter Text
The sound of Chuuya’s foot tapping against the hardcover floors in anticipation strung its way throughout the relatively quiet office of the Mafia boss. His mind was practically open and ablaze for all (Mori) to see. Filled with reasons as to why his boss decided to call in Soukoku for a mission.
Chuuya had to force himself to reign in his expression—as not to smirk.
Despite popular belief, the Mafia didn’t bring out Soukoku often, such ‘weapons’ (as Mori called them)were needed only about twice each month, even less than that sometimes. The reason for this is that they: ‘just cause far too much destruction.’ (Mori’s words not his) Which was an incredibly stupid reason in his opinion, as they’re Mafia, a place made off of destruction.
(From deep within him, he could sense Arahabaki’s agreement.)
So, truly, Chuuya couldn’t wait to see the mission Mori had assigned them.
Just then, the door to Mori’s office slammed open and closed with just as much force. Snapping him out of his mind. Chuuya didn’t have to turn to know it was his partner (in crime).
Not so much as flinching at his door being slammed, Mori beamed. “Dazai-kun! Glad to see you made it on time!” The man practically squealed and Chuuya couldn’t help a grimace from sliding onto his face at his bosses…weirdness.
That’s the amount of excitement you should be greeting the pretty lady with, moron.
Shut up. Chuuya grit at the voice in his head, already pissed despite it talking for the first time this week.
Chuuya doesn’t know why or how the god in his head had decided it wanted to start speaking to him using actual words—instead of grunts and screeches. But to say he doesn’t like it would be an understatement, he loathes it. The stupid thing talks all day and about one thing and one thing only, and that’s Dazai. Chuuya finds it stupidly idiotic (yes, he’s to the point where he’s combining words, he’s that fed up.) so he tries his best to ignore the thing at any given chance.
“Mori.” Was Dazai’s reply as she stalked her way over to Chuuya, her posture slumped as she stood beside him, her shoulders flushed with his.
Arahabaki practically squealed at the tiny bit of (pathetic) contact.
(And maybe Chuuya did too–internally. Because Dazai could’ve chosen anywhere to stand, yet she chose to stand right beside him.)
“Mori?” The boss whined. “Why not papa? You haven’t called me that since you were a little girl! Look!” He reached into the pocket of his suit, pulling out a picture of a younger-looking Dazai. In the photo; she was smirking up at the camera with a knife in hand. The picture looked downright sinister yet the boss gushed over it as he rubbed it against his face, like it was a prized possession.
Snapping a hand over his mouth to stop himself from laughing, Chuuya side-eyed Dazai whose face was the same as always; blank. Though Chuuya didn’t miss the slight twitch of her eye as she responded.
“Mori, I think you forget that you’re not my biological father. At times like this, I like to remind you of that fact.” Her reply was smooth as if her words were practiced hours before the meeting.
“But-!”
Chuuya, the ever-impatient type, decided to cut in at that moment with a low cough. “Boss, the mission?”
The man only sighed before straightening up in his seat, sliding papers tucked nicely into a folder towards Dazai. He began to talk.
“Well, Chuuya-kun, since you’ve asked so nicely, allow me to fill you in.” The man’s demeanor suddenly shifted, consuming a dark aura that wasn’t there a moment before. “There’s been some… problems—if you may call it—recently in the outside world. Heroes and Villains alike seem to have grown quite bold, bold enough to try and waltz into Yokohama. I can only assume it’s for bad reasons, but one can never be sure with only assumptions. Which is why I need you two to step in.”
Furrowing his brows, Chuuya tried to get a glimpse of the papers. But Dazai only turned them downwards when he tried to get a peek, after the fourth time he just sighed and turned his attention back to Mori. (trying desperately not to yell in front of his boss.)
“So what does that mean, boss?” He asked with a quirk of a brow.
“Stupid slug, it obviously means we’re being sent to Masutafu to find out what those heroes and villains are planning.” Dazai huffed, finally giving the papers to Chuuya. Ex: shoving the papers into Chuuya’s face.
“…what?” Chuuya asked, catching the papers as they slid off his face, then throwing them at Dazai. Ignoring the distressed whines from his partner about how he was domestically abusing her, he looked down, placing a hand on his chin.
Chuuya—and Arahabaki—frowned, he thought he’d be able to destroy things on this mission, but instead, he’s being sent to a damn city where little things like using your ability out in public are illegal. “Boss, no disrespect, but I really don’t get how this is a Soukoku mission. Aren’t we usually used for destruction?”
The boss only smiled wide. “Yes, but as you said, that’s only usually. But rest assured, Chuuya. There'll still be destruction on this mission,” Arahabaki yipped in delight (like a dog), “but you’ll still have to do some undercover work as well, everything you’ll need to know is provided in the documents I gave you. Please, take a look at them when you have the time. You’re dismissed.” The boss finished with the whip of a hand.
And like that, they were shoved out of Mori's office.
Once outside, Arahabaki growled out his resentment. What a bitch, I’m still yet to understand why we’re working for such a man. I’d rather work for the pretty lady.
At the sound of the voice in his head, Chuuya immediately frowned, huffing in anger, he answered. Shut the fuck up, that’s my boss you’re talking about, which makes him your boss too. Just because you have a kiddy crush on Dazai doesn’t mean you can be disrespectful. Which; is possibly true. There’s a (large) possibility Arahabaki truly does have a crush on Dazai. She’s the only thing Arahabaki talks about after all, spouting nonsense to Chuuya about how he and Dazai are fated to be together, corrupting his mind. Which in turn, makes Chuuya do stupid stuff that could be considered out of character for their dynamic. One of those things is actually caring for Dazai.
Not that he means any of it.
It’s obviously just Arahabaki projecting his wishes on Chuuya.
Nothing more.
Don’t act as if you don’t care.
I don’t.
The god snorts. Yeah ok.
“Slug.” Snapping out of his inner turmoil, Chuuya flicks his eyes up to meet Dazai’s. They’re a beautiful shade of hazel, beady, and framed by heavy lashes. Yet seem dark—much like her long hair that reaches her butt that she still refuses to cut—in the Mafia’s halls. Her lips, much different from the rest of her, are a light pink, they’re glossy and look impossibly soft (not that he’s actively looking). “Let’s go, we still have to pack.” And before he even gets to reply, Dazai’s walking away, her heels clicking with her.
Chuuya dumbly follows along. “Dumb bitch.” He mutters under his breath.
A hot dumb bitch.
Fuck off.
Stuffing a pair of black boxers into the suitcase in front of him, Chuuya huffs. “So,” he looks over to his right, at Dazai who’s playing on her switch, her legs propped up on his coffee table. “What’s the plan?”
Looking up from her game briefly, Dazai scoffs. “Did Chuuya not look through the document?”
Shoving another pair of clothing into the suitcase, Chuuya reaches for the second and larger suitcase he’d bought. “Nah, I knew you’d explain it anyway, no point. I just finished with your case by the way.” He shoved the smaller suitcase towards Dazai, listening to the wheels scrape against the hardwood floor before stopping completely.
“Mhm.” Dazai agreed, taking the case by the handle. “Well since you’ve waited so patiently like the good dog you are, I’ll explain it in a way your small dog brain can understand!” She grinned, placing her switch down to look over the couch straight into Chuuya’s eyes. He tried desperately to ignore how white her teeth looked and how one of her canines dug into the plump flesh of her lip. “I’ll be playing hero and you’ll be playing villain.” She pointed to each of them while saying this. “In order to spy on the boring heroes I’ll be going to school, specifically UA High School as a student on a rehabilitation program. My files have already been sent to the school, so they’ll know me as a sad little young girl who’s been groomed into the Mafia by a big bad man!” She says the last part with a pout and a high-pitched voice. “Which is boring! But whatever! You’ll be sent to infiltrate a villain organization! The League of Villains to be specific, they’re a new organization trying to make a word for themselves! It appears their main goal is to attack All Might, and he’ll be teaching at UA this year! So, you’ll be hidden as a villain who wants to make a name for himself while getting revenge on the heroes who’ve wronged you in the past. So you’ll still be able to be a dumb brute.”
Nodding along to her words(and ignoring the obscene amount of insults), Chuuya shoves a toothbrush into his suitcase. “So, what you’re saying is I’m the brawn and you’re the brain as always?”
Dazai smiles softly at this, her face almost proud. “Correct, it’s just that we’ll be on different sides. I’ll probably still have to take villain work on the side, though. I’ll have to keep in contact with you somehow.” Dazai’s silent for a moment when she's done speaking. But then–out of nowhere–she perks up as if remembering something. She then touches around the eye covered in bandages, as if looking for an opening. Whenever she finds whatever she’s looking for; she tugs. Which as a result, rips the whole bandage off. Revealing her eye underneath. It looks red and irritated and Chuuya can’t help but stare.
He must’ve been quiet for a while though, because eventually, Dazai lifts a brow, silently asking what the hell his problem was.
He only shakes his head and continues talking, ignoring the brow entirely.
“Why not just use our phones?”
Dazai huffs as she falls back onto the couch, her body bouncing with the force. “Yeah, we could if we want to get caught easily. Knowing you, you’ll forget to delete the messages and cause us a hell of a lot of trouble.” She willingly leaves out the part that mentions how all rehabilitation students are monitored closely. He’s a big boy, he can figure it out.
“Fuck off, I’m not that dumb.”
Dazai beams. “So… the slug’s admitting he’s slow?”
“Hell no!”
Chuckling a bit, Dazai picks back up her switch, un-pauses her game, and continues playing.
Shoving the final piece of clothing into his suitcase, Chuuya frowns. Realizing something. “Hey,” Dazai looks up. “So this means we won’t be living together, right?” And really, It’s not that he cares all that much. But Dazai has a knack for not taking care of herself. And he’d rather not have to cut the mission short because his partner decided she wanted to die from starvation or dehydration and he had to save her.
(Arahabaki preens at the thought of saving Dazai.)
Furrowing her brows a bit, Dazai pauses her game once again as she looks back over the couch to study Chuuya’s expression closely. She must find something because she then sighs. Waving Chuuya over with one hand.
The boy comes immediately, much like how a dog would when its owner calls for them(Dazai snickers eternally at the thought.). Chuuya now seated next to her on the plush couch, Dazai takes the opportunity to place a hand on his head, fixing his loose strands of hair.
The boy was surprisingly docile when all this happened, after a year of knowing the girl, Chuuya’s gotten used to the touchy signs of affection she gives. (Not that he’d let anyone else touch him like this—no, never.)
“No, we won’t. I’ll be living with some Mafia grunts who’ll act as my parents.” She answers, her voice oddly soft. “Which sucks! Because then there'll be no one to bathe me, wash and braid my hair, and cook me food!” Her voice switches back to a whine, a high-pitched one that’s loud enough to crack windows. The; ‘because I trust no one but you to do those things for me.’ goes unsaid, yet Chuuya heard it loud and clear anyway.
He doesn’t focus on that though (because if he did, it’d send him into a frenzy), instead opting to insult Dazai.
“You’re acting like I’m your mom, bastard. You can do most of that shit yourself!” Chuuya growls, whacking Dazai in her stomach.
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I want to!” She whines again. Not so much as flinching at the direct hit, instead opting to shove Chuuya into her breasts.
Groaning in distaste, Chuuya removes his face from her breast. (Ane-San taught him long ago to not be embarrassed by Dazai’s antics, claiming she’s not a modest girl.) “Fine, how about this, I’ll cook your food and find time to come over to your place every day to drop it off. When I’m there, I’ll do all that extra shit too. I probably won’t be able to make it there all the time so you better do some of that shit yourself!” He finishes with the point of a finger, ignoring Arahabaki’s excited squeal at the arrangements.
Grinning like a cat who’s eaten the canary, Dazai answers. “Deal! No takebacks!”
Sighing, Chuuya hops off the couch. “The next train to Masutafu is in two hours. You need to start getting ready now . ”
Nodding her head vigorously, Dazai gets up fast, rushing towards her room to get dressed in clothes better than a big ‘Korn’ t-shirt.
The walk and ride to Masutafu was nothing but silent, both Dazai and Chuuya being undoubtedly irritated at the arrangements in which the mission was set up. Working with each other but not with each other was something foreign to them. It felt wrong almost like they weren't meant to be apart from each other, like their souls were being split in half and thrown in separate places. It was weird.
Or maybe that was just Chuuya’s interpretation of it.
Two hours into the train ride, his head had started to pound annoyingly. Arahabaki had been in a bad mood, screaming for god knows how long. Words weren’t even being said, it was just pure, inhabited rage. Urging him to hurt, and destroy until his body could no longer move.
When the train finally stopped, Chuuya was a bit reluctant to get up. But one look at Dazai’s face made him sigh with resignation.
He could lie to himself and say he was glad to be separated from Dazai, and most of the time he would be. But as of recently, Dazai has been kinder (if such a thing was possible.) for some reason. And he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying the change.
“Slug,” Dazai’s voice is the one that snaps him out of his trance, as always. Her messy braid flows in the harsh wind and she looks pretty, “see you.” She smiles. And Chuuya can do nothing but say it back.
“Yeah. See you.”
???
Her feet skidding against the dirt of the pavement, Dazai walks towards UA with nothing but annoyance.
(It didn’t help that the Mafia grunts supposedly posing as her parents ended up being extremely late, Dazai ended up having to sit in her room for a couple of minutes to not kill the two as they’re the ones who had the key to the house. It wasn’t entirely their fault, after all, the train just ended up being late.)
To be frank, she isn’t interested in playing ‘hero’, not at all. Being ‘good’ isn’t something she’s exactly good at. (if the name ‘Demon-prodigy’ is anything to go off of.) And heroes are all about being good.
Which ultimately turns her into an outsider inhabiting a place where she’s not fit to be. Making her feel not much different than an invasive species; spreading its sickly ways onto everything it can get its hands on, eventually eating all it can until there's nothing left.
She can act as one of them all she wants; prey and not predator. But it won’t change the skin she’s in, it will not make her any different.
But people do say she has a knack for adopting any and every title she's meant to.
And her title now is an abused young girl. Who wants nothing more than to redeem herself for her past actions, and to live among those of the light. Hoping that she too, can one day blossom like them.
The thought alone makes Dazai gag.
Once she comes into sight of UA, Dazai shifts her whole demeanor. Changing from a strong, confident young lady, (much like Kouyou taught her to be) into a meek, and abused sixteen-year-old child. Her steps were mere shuffles, and her sight pointed towards the ground, shifting up every few seconds to see what was in front of her.
When the large UA gates are what greet her, along with a fairly tall man with long jet-black hair and tired eyes along with a tiny mouse, Dazai knows she’s exactly where she needs to be.
“Hello.” She mutters, adopting awkwardness like a second skin as she avoids eye contact. More so with the man in particular as she sneaks peeks at the creature several feet shorter than her.
(Dazai Osamu;
One key characteristic of hers is her avoidance of men—in other words being afraid of them. Make sure to implement this.
Description; ‘Growing up around strong and scary men with guns her whole life that did nothing but scold and hit her, Dazai gained a fear of men, finding comfort in animals instead.’)
The tiny mouse grins at the young girl before speaking. “Why hello there, Dazai. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” It extends a tiny paw, supposedly asking for a handshake. Dazai obliged, reaching out to shake the animal's hand. Speeding up her heart rate in the process in order to make her cheeks flush a bright pink. Making it seem as if she adores the creature due to its pink paws. Yet in truth, the only thing she feels for it is disgust. Its dark and beady eyes cause her to frown internally. (Maybe it’s because they remind her much of her own.)
“Me too!” She shouts out of nowhere, surprising both the man and the mouse. She then reels herself back in, making herself seem as small as possible. “It’s uh… It’s a pleasure to meet you too.”
The mouse is studying her, Dazai can tell by the way his eyes are traveling her body, obviously checking for any movement that would go against her files.
Which must be why he’d brought her new teacher here. A man on the bigger side, a test of sorts to see if the files are truthful.
“I sure hope it will be, Dazai.” The mouse smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach its eyes. “I’ve brought your homeroom teacher with me, as I’ve read about your problem with men.” Dazai makes sure to flinch at the mention of her past. This doesn’t go unnoticed by the man, who’s taken great interest in her bandages. Eyeing them with secrecy that wouldn’t have been noticed by anyone other than a trained member of the Mafia. “I’m sorry if this is rude, but I’d like you to get to know him a bit or at least know who he is so you’re not frightened once you get into class.”
Shaking her head vigorously, her braid flying with it. Dazai mutters. “Uh, no it’s fine.” Her gaze is set on the ground as she speaks, and the man takes this exact moment to extend his hand with abnormal speed for a handshake. But before the hand can even land in front of her, Dazai makes sure to flinch back so hard, she stumbles to the ground.
She then makes her body shake ever so slightly as her lips quiver.
She paints a look of absolute fear as she stares up at the man, more so looking at his hand, as the man and the mouse look at her with a mixture of shock and pity.
(Dazai assumes they didn’t think the files were true. And they’re right, she’s just one hell of an actor.)
As if snapped out of a trance, Dazai stops shaking and her lips stop quivering. She makes a move of flinching as if she realizes what just happened before she stands. Her face is dark with embarrassment as she looks down. Seemingly disgusted with herself for flinching at a handshake, she bites her lip hard enough to bleed. “Sorry.” She grits out.
The word feels weird in her mouth, she’s not quite used to saying the word ‘sorry’. Back in the Mafia, thousands would die before ever hearing the demon prodigy mutter any form of apologetic wording.
“You’re fine, it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have moved so quickly.” Aizawa (yes she did research.) apologizes. Retracting his hand in an act of shame. It’s obvious he was in on it (reluctantly it seems), he just didn’t expect that big of a reaction. But to make sure no one tries to test her again, Dazai really needs to sell it.
Tears welling in her eyes, Dazai shakes her head again. “No,” her voice is shaky and thin when it comes out, “It’s my fault, I’m sorry.” She attempts to take the blame, and the man’s face flashes with hurt. It made Dazai preen, knowing she’d gotten the desired reaction.
The man must think she has some kind of inferiority complex, as many who apologize for things that aren’t their fault do. Dazai had done her research and found that most who do were heavily abused or at least raised in broken households and or situations in their childhood. Apparently, they often felt as if their situation was a result of their own ‘wrongdoings’.
A dumb thought indeed.
“It’s not, Dazai, you’re perfectly fine. It’s a natural reaction. Come, let’s get everything ready for you.” Nezu sighs, his everlasting smile dimmer as he walks away, Aizawa following.
“Ok…” Dazai shuffles after them, her hands clenched as the duo walks much faster and with much more purpose. Aizawa looks back briefly, seeing her walking much slower, he slows down along with her in faux comfort Dazai would laugh at any other day.
The man seems to be truly sorry for his actions.
The pathetic sight makes her feel almost sorry.
Almost is the key word, because instead, Dazai just thinks she should thank Mori for touching up her acting skills.
When Aizawa had first set eyes on the young girl named Dazai, he’d thought the wrong student had shown up for the rehabilitation program.
He was stunned to say the least, because how could such a meek and geeky-looking girl possibly be affiliated with the Mafia? She seemed so very thin and frail as if she would collapse at a mere whisk of the wind.
And when she jumped back from an extent of a hand for a handshake, he knew he was correct. The girl trembled like a leaf as she stared at him in complete horror, her hands twitched and clawed at the ground as if she were attempting to pick something up. A thing that must’ve been on reflex. He’d be lying if he said the sight didn’t make his heart twinge with pain.
Initially, he’d been against the idea of testing a child's trauma, as if the files were true, he wouldn’t want to trigger something and possibly send the kid into a frenzy. But as Nezu kept talking–explaining to him that it was for caution and the safety of his students, the more he caved. But now, he’s come to regret that decision greatly.
Guilt resonated in his chest, and he couldn’t help but feel mildly horrified from being stared at with such fear by such a young girl. (How could he be suspicious of such a small child? And with such lifeless and sorrowful eyes at that. Looking into them made him feel empty, he couldn’t imagine what having them would feel like.)
It was at that moment that he’d decided he would do his best to teach the young thing. Such a child didn’t deserve to be treated like a wild animal ready to lash out at any given second. It was inhumane. (Everything about this child screamed ‘inhuman’ something wasn’t right. But what wasn’t? What’s wrong?) While he wasn’t going to dispel all of his suspicions, he’s going to tone it down and try to truly understand the child.
Which was why he’d decided to slow his walking to not leave the child behind. He set a slow pace much like the child beside him, walking that way all the way to his classroom where his other children were.
And now standing outside of door class 1-A, Aizawa took a deep breath, eyeing the girl beside him. He knew his students weren't going to accept the girl so easily. The only information they’d received was that she was a villain who randomly decided she wanted to be a hero. Which is why she’s here now.
He couldn’t blame them if they were cautious, the whole thing screamed trouble. (She screamed trouble as well.)
That doesn’t mean he’ll let just anything slide though. He’ll make sure to step in when necessary.
Opening up the door, Aizawa told the girl to stand outside as he got everything situated.
As soon as his foot hit the door, the class quieted down. He walked his way over to the podium in complete silence, only breaking it when he was situated. “Class.” His monotone voice spouted. And everyone listened intently. “As you know, we’re getting a new student for the rehabilitation program.” At the mention of the program, Aizawa could see many of his students' eyes harden, some even going as far as to scoff. “I know, I know. I understand how this could make some of you uncomfortable, but I ask you to treat her with respect as you would anyone else.”
Standing up out of her chair, Mina whined. “But Mr. Aizawa! Why do we have to let a villain into our class? What if they attack us? Plus! They didn’t even have to go through the same exam we did! I bet they got something much easier!” She slammed her hands onto her desk, which caused the rest of the class to stand up and voice their complaints as well. The class only quieted down when Aizawa leveled them with a glare.
“Yes, I understand. But this is still a human being. And I expect you to treat her as one.” At the harsh, but honest words, many students froze. Faces shaping into ones of sorrow and guilt.
“…yeah, guys he’s right.” Momo agreed after a while. “They want to be a hero just like the rest of us, so who are we to shun them?” She spoke louder, getting more confident.
Her words only served to make her peers even more guilty as they frowned in shame. Mostly because such words didn’t change their opinion, others because they felt bad for even thinking such horrible things about a person they’ve never met before.
“...Yeah!” A student with brown hair nodded. “Mr. Aizawa and Momo are right! Bring ‘em in!” She huffed, gathering her hands to pump them in the air.
The other students remained silent with their heads down.
Huffing, Aizawa shook his head a bit before motioning the young girl in. She walked into the classroom slowly, her posture was closed as she stood next to Aizawa. The man could tell she was trying not to get too close to the point where they’d be touching with any sort of erratic movement.
The realization sent a pang through his chest.
“H-hi… I’m Dazai Osamu. It’s nice to meet everyone.” She muttered, bowing a full ninety degrees.
(No one seemed to notice her calculating gaze sauntering over all the students when she stood.)
A few students sent her smiles, all taking their turns to introduce themselves and welcome her in.
The brown-haired girl smiled as she received the welcome. Welcoming them back with fake enthusiasm. The atmosphere was calm, causing the worried students to loosen up a bit.
That was until a boy with spiky hair spoke up. “Alright. Cut the shit, what the fuck do you want here, villain?” He grit, and Dazai could admit, the words took her a bit by surprise. Which is why she genuinely took a second to pause and think.
What did the Demon Prodigy want? Better yet, could the Demon Prodigy want? She’d never felt such a thing before, pure untamable want. She could only assume it was beaten out of her long ago, lit up into flames, and then turned into ashes. The process repeated until there was nothing left. (She says this yet inside her she can feel it, the aching yearning for something. It sang and tainted her blood. But what was it? What does she want? What does she yearn for?)
Well, if she were to answer his question honestly, her reply would be to finish her mission earlier than expected.
But alas, she couldn’t say that.
So she feigned confusion.
“What do you mean..?” She asked.
“Don’t play dumb with me, no villain just decides they want to be a hero all of a sudden,” the boy raises his voice, “I mean, she’s killed people, hasn’t she? Why’s she here? What’s her goal?” He growled, slamming his hands on his desk.
Dazai could admit, the boy was smart. Smart enough to know he shouldn’t trust a ‘villain’ so easily. But sadly, he’s not as smart as her.
The class was silent for a moment, mulling over what their classmate had said. Stealing glances at the rehabilitated villain.
But through the stolen glances, that’s when they saw it.
Tears.
Fat, crocodile tears running down the girl's face. Her face was flushed as she cried, her nose scrunched as the droplets fell. It was as if time had frozen, the students remained motionless, and even Aizawa froze up.
“I-I’m sorry…” and just like that, the trance they were stuck in was broken.
“A-are you alright?!?” A student yelped, rushing to her side as she took out a handkerchief and handed it to her.
“What the hell, Bakugou?” One of the boys yelled. “How could you make such a pretty girl cry?” He rushed to her side, patting her back.
Dazai chose to ignore how the touch made her skin prickle.
“The hell?!?” The blonde screeched when he snapped out of his daze. “Ya'll seriously on her side?! Just because she turned on the waterworks??” By the time he’d said this, all the students were by the girl’s side, reassuring her. (All save for three, the blondie, a boy with two-toned hair, and a boy with green hair.)
“Bakugou… that was rude.” A boy with spiky red hair scolded, meekly glaring at his friend. The action caused Bakugou to gape.
“Are you fucking serious, shitty hair?!?”
“Bakugou.” His teacher's voice cut in. “I understand your suspicion, but now you’re going too far.”
Growling, the boy looked over his classmates. Are they fucking dumb? They’re just trusting a villain blindly, just like that! Couldn’t they see they were being fooled? How could they trust a fucking criminal so easily? Standing up, Bakugou stomped out of the classroom. “Fuck! Believe her then, you’ll fucking regret it!”
Smiling to herself, Dazai couldn’t help but agree.
Walking the streets of Masutafu felt like walking through some kind of freak show.
The amount of mutated body parts Chuuya has seen disturbs him greatly and makes him wish he could go home already.
(Eternally, Arahabaki screeched; ‘Me too!’)
But he can’t. And he’s stuck skipping alleyway to alleyway to find some leads on the ‘LOV’.
Based on the files Dazai had sent him, the LOV isn’t exactly the most secretive place. Apparently, if you’re a villain looking to take down All Might, then you’re welcome to join in.
But Chuuya isn’t an idiot, he knows that there’s a possibility he’s not going to just get accepted immediately. There’s no way an organization made of villains would just let anyone join, no matter how dumb they are.
So there must be some kind of trial he would have to pass. He’s guessing it has to do with strength. They’ll evaluate him and depending on how strong he is decides which category he’s in; if he's strong enough to hang with the actual main villains, or if he’s just a grunt.
Luckily, such a thing was right up his alley–speaking of alleys, Chuuya walks into the next one he sees, his hands are stuffed tight in his pockets and his hoodie (he’d decided against bringing his hat, instead bearing only his gloves and choker.) is shoved over his head.
Peeking out the side every once in and while, Chuuya sees there are more occupants in this alleyway than the others he’s seen the further he goes on. Which must mean something big’s about to happen here. Walking a bit faster, Chuuya evaluates all the people he thinks are worth noticing. A young girl about his age with platinum blonde hair who looks a bit too happy to be here, a man with major burn marks on his skin that must’ve been left to sit for a while as they’re now dark purple. Another man who’s wearing some kind of suit, seemingly content to chat with the blonde girl. And the last and most interesting one in his opinion; is a magician. Or at least Chuuya thinks he is. He has a large hat and is actively playing with cards. So yeah, a magician.
Other than those few, everyone else looks fucking soft. Their arrogance seems to be through the roof though, as some of them occupy themselves with chatting about how many they’ve assaulted or killed.
Not only is that fucking weird, showcasing your crimes for all to see and hear, but Chuuya can also bet money that they aren’t all that. It only takes a quick look over to be able to notice a person who’s ready to murder at any time, the way they carry themselves, their interactions with others, and even their fighting style.
It’s all so easy to recognize once you know what you’re looking for.
And Chuuya can tell ya right now; these guys are nothing but pussies. He could probably attack them all at once and they wouldn’t start fighting back until someone orders them to.
Like the fucking grunts they are.
But hey, if they really think they're that tough, Chuuya would love to see for himself just how far their ego will go. After all, actions speak much louder than words. And he’s been itching for a fight.
Chuuya snaps his head around when he feels someone’s presence behind him. After one quick look over, Chuuya recognizes him as the man with the burn marks. He looked mildly surprised that Chuuya had sensed him, though it left his face as quickly as it came when he grinned.
“Yo kid, you’re letting off some pretty heavy bloodlust there. Scaring all the other applicants.” He whistles. And Chuuya takes that time to look around the crowd once again, everyone looks tenser than before and is staring at him with what looks to be wariness. (Chuuya doesn’t miss the word ‘applicants’, could it be they were trying out for something?)
Chuuya curses internally but keeps his calm facade. “And? What’s it to you?” He grits, glaring at the man who frowns at the hostile treatment. Chuuya ignores the frown completely though, he’s used to it at this point as anger clings to him like a second skin. It’s much easier to express anger than any other emotion after all, and people seem to spill their hearts out more often than not when they’re met with malice anyway. So it’s a win-win for him.
“Whoa there, let's calm down.” He says with a grin and a light air surrounds him before it falls completely. “You wouldn’t wanna get burned.” And now he’s glaring, and it makes Chuuya want to laugh instead of running away in fear.
Fucking Dazai had a scarier pout than that.
“Yeah,” he snorts and the man looks taken aback, “whatever, old man. I have a question.” He turns to face the man completely, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets. The man looks offended that he shoved off his threat so easily, but Chuuya can see the amusement hidden in his eyes.
“And what’s that?” He asks.
“Nothing much, I just wanna know what this whole meeting is about.” He says nonchalantly, but the man doesn’t show the same reaction as his eyes go comically wide–and suddenly he looks like he’s on the brink of laughter.
Chuuya doesn’t know what he finds so funny, so he snarls. “The fuck? What’s so funny?”
“You–you don’t know why we're all meeting up here. Yet you’re here? In this sketchy alleyway?” The man asks, attempting to hold back laughter but failing miserably.
Chuuya only levels him with a look. “I wouldn’t be asking if I knew, old man.”
The man turns around for a second and Chuuya can see his shoulders shake for a moment. Chuuya sees him take two deep breaths in and out before he turns back to him. “Ahem–well, this is uh–tryouts? I guess? For the League of Villains, kid.” He answers, a small grin on his face as he speaks, obviously still extremely amused by the situation. Chuuya ignores his antics, instead soaking in the information.
Chuuya couldn’t help a small grin from forming on his face at the mention of the LOV. Seems he was right before with the ‘tryout’ thing. (Wow, he deserves a pat on the back.) So it was a good idea to search random alleyways after all. Damn, he’s lucky. “Sweet.” He mutters under his breath before he can filter himself and the man stares at him for a couple of seconds before cracking a mini smile.
“What’s your name, pipsqueak? Mine’s Dabi.” He introduces himself.
Chuuya only bristles at the nickname, ignoring his question entirely. “Pipsqueak? Fuck you! Jackass! I’m still growing!” He growls, yet the man only looks amused.
“Ok, pipsqueak. If you want me to call you anything else, you’ll have to tell me your name.”
Rolling his eyes, Chuuya thinks for a moment. He’s not about to give this jackass his actual name, what if he was a weirdo or some shit?
So instead he decided to make up a fake one.
But what would he want to be called? It would have to be something important to him, something that only he could do.
Fuhai. The god in his mind recommends. (corruption in Japanese)
Eyes widening for a fraction of a second at the solid recommendation given to him by the voice in his head, Chuuya grins with newfound excitement. Because that’s a pretty sick fucking name.
So, with newfound vigor, he looks up at the man in front of him, his two different-colored eyes shining with smugness. As he spoke, a huge grin formed on his face.
And it was the first time Dabi caught a good glimpse of the boy in front of him. He had freckles, heterochromia, and a kiddush facial structure. He looked like a regular teenager at that moment, with such a large smile on his face.
He seemed… happy , almost pure.
And Dabi could think one thing only–
“Fuhai,” His voice changed at the first word, seeming almost dark before shifting back to normal. “Call us–no me, Fuhai.” He beamed.
–How could someone hiding in the darkness of villainy look so impossibly normal?
“Alright…” Dabi spoke after a moment, shaking his head to remove all those stupid thoughts he was having before. “It’s nice to meet you, Fuhai.”
The kid grinned at him again and it seemed as if he was about to speak before he was cut off by a man(?) appearing out of a portal in front of everyone.
Chuuya tensed almost immediately and he could feel the man beside him do the same. He only loosened up a bit once the man started talking.
“Hello everyone. I’ll be the one deciding if you’re strong enough to join the League today. I ask for everyone to line up, once everyone is situated I want a display of your quirks one by one. After that, further instructions will be given.” The man explained, and everyone rushed to get in line. For some reason, everyone seemed hell-bent to get to the front. Meanwhile, Chuuya took to staying in the middle, Dabi following along with him.
Once everyone was in their place, they all took turns showcasing their quirks. Most were as useless as he’d predicted. One dude’s quirk was just having long legs, The hell is that? How does that even count as a power?
But what he hadn’t predicted–and came to him as a shocker–was that almost all applicants are as useless as their quirks when it comes to battle as well. How the hell did these people survive on the streets for so long without getting arrested? They couldn’t even hit a damn brick wall if it was right in front of them!
Some had no control over their quirk and others were just downright idiots with them! What the hell does the LOV expect to do with these people? They can’t do shit right, if it was the Mafia they would’ve been fired or even shot dead already.
The man who came out of the portal didn’t even flinch at the useless skill sets though, he only told them to stand to the side when they were done before calling the next person.
And about an hour and a half in, Chuuya could feel himself dozing off. Well, that was until someone he recognized from before was up.
It was the girl with blonde hair, she had a tiny knife in her hand and was grinning like a maniac as she spoke. “For my quirk, I’ll need someone to help me with it.” She spoke calmly before her face shifted, and suddenly she was blushing hard. “I’ll need someone’s fresh blood.” She put her hands on her cheeks and looked almost shy despite how sinister her words were.
Everyone seemed to cringe away from her at the fact, all spouting about how she was a freak. But the girl's everlasting smile stayed as if that’s what she was expecting. The sight made Chuuya feel a bit bad for her, the girl would end up getting out before even trying, and she was being made fun of.
The more he thought about it, the more he felt himself frown.
Don’t do it. Don’t fucking do it.
I won’t.
…
…
You’re about to do it, aren’t you?
Yeah.
Sighing, Chuuya raised his hand. “You can use my blood.”
Everyone’s eyes snapped to him in an instant, including Dabi. They seemed shell-shocked he’d volunteered, even the girl looked a bit surprised.
“Very well.” The teleporter spoke. “Come.” With the command, Chuuya walked up to the front of the line to where the girl was standing.
Once he was next to her, he spoke, ignoring her shocked and confused expression. “So, how do ya wanna do this?” He asked.
The girl seemed to snap out of her daze at that moment as her cheeks flushed a dark red. “Your arm.” She grinned. “Give me your arm.”
Look what you’ve done now. You’ve gone ahead and decided to give our blood to some weirdo, sick mortal. The deity whined, reluctant to let the girl touch him, much less drink his blood. Having our blood consumed for the first time was supposed to go much differently. Like in a candle room with the pretty lady standing over us, bite marks on our skin as she licks each one. It sighs dreamily before screeching. BUT NO! You ruined it by giving it to some bitch! Oh, how you’ve ruined us.
Cringing at her expression and the voice in his head, Chuuya rolled up his sleeves and held out his arm which was riddled with different kinds of scars. The girl practically squealed at the markings as she took his arm into her hands. And Chuuya had to fight every muscle in his body to not flinch, the main cause being the god screeching in his head to take her head off.
KILL HER, KILL HER, KILL HER, WHO IS SHE TO TOUCH US? TO DRINK OUR BLOOD? I AM A GOD. MY BLOOD IS SACRED YET YOU’RE GIVING IT OUT LIKE SOME CHARITY CASE, FOOLISH HUMAN, INSOLENT BEING! It raged, and Chuuya felt his fingertips twitch.
The girl was still flushed a deep red as she looked up at Chuuya, blissfully unaware of his thoughts to take her head off her shoulders. Her mouth then opened a bit to showcase fangs. “Thank you…” She whispered, and then there were fangs piercing his skin.
Chuuya hissed as the girl drank his blood with a happy expression. The pain lasted for about ten seconds before she pulled off and softly licked the wound, blood at the corner of her mouth.
DISGUSTING, REPULSING, KILL HER, NOW. NOW. NOW! Chuuya ignored the being in his head, instead opting to watch the girl.
Because then she was shifting. A bright pink smoke covered her, and when it cleared, there was a double of him standing where the girl used to be.
The sight sent a ping of disgust and fear through him, he felt his heart rate speed up as his breath labored.
(His twin,
a clone,
another him.
Kill it.
KILL IT,
BURN IT,
ONLY US! He felt the god agree in his mind.)
He only noticed he was spacing out when he heard the sound of claps and gasps of amazement, even the teleporter looked pleasantly surprised as he told the girl to go to the opposite side of everyone else.
The girl giggled at the attention as she turned to Chuuya. She then took his hands in hers as she leaned in close to his face, Chuuya cringed back. “Thank you, Fuhai-kun! Your blood is amazing! I hope you let me drink it again!” She kissed their intertwined hands and giggled at Chuuya’s disgusted expression before skipping to her spot. “Can we wrap this up soon, please? This form will only last for thirty-five more minutes and when I change back I’ll be completely naked!” The man only nodded his head and turned his attention to Chuuya.
She’s disgusting. If she touches us again, burn her.
Not sure if I can do that. She’s talented and will most likely be an active member of the LOV. I can’t have my co-workers hate me.
We shouldn’t care about what those weaklings think.
You see, that would be correct if we weren’t on a FUCKING MISSION right now. We have a job to do so–
“Since you’re here now, please display your quirk.” The teleporter's monotone voice commanded, breaking his argument with Arahabaki. And Chuuya could do nothing more than comply. (No matter how much he wanted to spit in the fuckers face for trying to boss him around.)
Furrowing his brows, Chuuya decided he wouldn’t go all out, that would end up with a couple of leveled buildings. Instead, he used a bit of his power; his red glow enveloping him as he crushed the ground beneath him, he then used his ability to pick up the loosened debris before flowing in the air and launching it at the nearest wall, destroying it. He then dropped himself back onto the ground, his hands still in his pockets.
He could feel the stares but he didn’t show any reaction to them, instead looking at the man whose barely noticeable eye slits widened greatly as he clasped his ‘hands’ together. “Perfect!” The man said. “Just perfect.” He then motioned Chuuya over to where the blondie was.
Nodding his head, Chuuya walked over to his area. Plopping down on his butt.
Well, that was easy.
Almost all the contestants after that were boring, most with mediocre abilities and skills. Well, save for a few. Like Dabi who made blue fucking flames. That was sick. And the man who could clone himself, Chuuya’ll make sure to stay clear of him just in case he can clone others as well. And then there was the magician who he was still a bit confused about. His ability wasn’t the easiest to understand.
All three of those people made it over with him and the girl he found to be named Toga who just wouldn’t stop fucking talking for the life of her.
He didn’t like her much if that wasn’t obvious already. She’d stayed in his form for the better half of the ‘exam’ and it pissed Chuuya off greatly. It didn’t help that Arahabaki fucking hated her like he hates almost everyone he comes across, but he just loathes Toga.
So when he’s even remotely close to the girl, the god screeches in his head, yelling about how Dazai’s the only girl for him.
Whatever the fuck that meant, Chuuya didn’t know.
And then finally, after two hours, everyone was situated in their columns.
There were only five people in his group. Those five people are; clone man, Dabi, Toga, magician, and him. Meanwhile, everyone else who tried out was grouped in a different place. The teleporter then explained that the column with the bigger number of people was grunts–he didn’t say that exactly, but Chuuya knew as much. After giving them a brief explanation of their planned attacks on All Might, the teleporter told them to leave with a stern voice. Once all of the grunts had left, he’d turned to Chuuya’s group and opened a portal.
“You five have been selected to be official members of the LOV. Come, I must show you our leader.” The man walked through the portal, not so much as sparing a glance to see if they followed.
Chuuya shared a glance with Dabi before sighing and walking in.
The world shifted around him for a moment, everything clouded with purple before his vision cleared and he was inside of a base. It seemed to be a bar of some sort.
Once everyone had walked through, the teleporter closed the warp. “I’ve made rooms for all of you. Once you’ve met the boss, I’ll allow you to see them.”
“Free rooms? Sweet.” Dabi nodded.
Humming in agreement with his words, Chuuya turned his attention to the man with white hair who’d just walked into the living area.
“The new players are here, huh?” The man’s voice was scratchy as he itched his skin vigorously. Chuuya didn’t know how to feel about being called a player as if he was some sort of pawn in a video game.
“Yes, they are.” The teleporter agreed.
“What are their quirks?” The white-haired man asked, eyeing them.
“We have a shapeshifter who’ll be of use to us when in need of infiltrations, a magician with a compression quirk. He uses marbles. We then have a fire user and a clone maker. And then, the one I think he’ll like the most; a gravity manipulator.” The man grinned at the end when addressing Chuuya and the boss’s eyes turned comically wide as he turned to Chuuya. A wide grin on his face.
“Perfect.”
Chuuya scowled at the treatment, feeling like a weapon ready for others to equip at any time again. Chuuya had to remind himself that this was a mission, and when it was over, he could kill them all.
“How about we all introduce ourselves!” The clone man interjected as if sensing Chuuya’s bad mood. “I’ll go first, my name’s Twice!” He beamed.
“I’m Toga!” The girl screeched, attempting to get closer to Chuuya without him noticing. “And I love Fuhai-kun!” She then turned to him. “Hey, Fuhai-kun, do ya wanna room with me!?” She excitedly squealed. And Chuuya had no clue when they’d gotten so close, but it looked like the girl already liked him a lot.
Arahabaki groaned in distress.
Chuuya ignored him, instead furrowing his brows at the girl beside him, trying to read just why the girl liked him so much.
After a small inspection, and the girl squealing under his gaze, Chuuya sighed and shook his head, still confused.
(But to the girl, it was much more than just ‘like’, it was true love. And Chuuya had to love her back! He gave her his blood willingly after all, the pure, warming feeling of having another’s blood running through her veins sent sparks down her spine and made her face heat up. There’s no love purer than tasting the one you love fully. And people didn’t usually understand that–not her mama, not her papa, not her teachers–. But Fuhai-kun did, and he gave her his love. She would be a fool not to take such a thing.)
“Fuhai.” Chuuya grits when everyone seems to be staring at him.
“Dabi.” He was much like Chuuya, the only difference being he yawned out his answer.
“And I’m the Compress, the best magician in the world who’s done many wonderful things! Yes, that Compress!” The man gloated, frowning when mostly everyone ignored him.
What a bunch of fucking losers.
I can’t agree more. Chuuya chuckled eternally.