I don't smoke

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/33371662.

Rating: Not Rated

Archive Warning: Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Fandom: 文豪ストレイドッグス | Bungou Stray Dogs, 僕のヒーローアカデミア |
Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Relationship: Dazai Osamu & Nakahara Chuuya (Bungou Stray Dogs), Dazai Osamu
& Oda Sakunosuke (Bungou Stray Dogs), Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead
& Dazai Osamu (Bungou Stray Dogs), Aizawa Shouta |
Eraserhead/Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Dazai Osamu & Fyodor
Dostoyevsky (Bungou Stray Dogs)
Character: Dazai Osamu (Bungou Stray Dogs), Mori Ougai (Bungou Stray Dogs),
Nakahara Chuuya (Bungou Stray Dogs), Class 1-A (My Hero
Academia), Port Mafia Ensemble (Bungou Stray Dogs), League of
Villains (My Hero Academia), Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Yamada
Hizashi | Present Mic, Fyodor Dostoyevsky (Bungou Stray Dogs),
Sakaguchi Ango (Bungou Stray Dogs), Oda Sakunosuke (Bungou
Stray Dogs), Kayama Nemuri | Midnight, Hakamata Tsunagu | Best
Jeanist, Shinsou Hitoshi, Hirotsu Ryuurou (Bungou Stray Dogs),
Yumeno Kyuusaku | Q (Bungou Stray Dogs), Midoriya Izuku, Hatsume
Mei, Iida Tenya
Additional Tags: Crossover, Infiltration, Vigilantism, Depression, Alcohol
Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism,
Alcohol, Suicide, Dazai-Typical Suicide Attempts (Bungou Stray Dogs),
Port Mafia Dazai Osamu (Bungou Stray Dogs), Nakahara Chuuya Is So
Done (Bungou Stray Dogs), POV Dazai Osamu (Bungou Stray Dogs),
Dazai Osamu-centric (Bungou Stray Dogs), Dazai Osamu is a Mess
(Bungou Stray Dogs), Drugs, Smoking, Underage Smoking, Underage
Drinking, Blood and Injury, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Addiction,
Betrayal, Character Death, Grief/Mourning, Angst, Living Together,
Hurt/Comfort, To An Extent, Teenage Dazai Osamu (Bungou Stray
Dogs), Teenage Nakahara Chuuya (Bungou Stray Dogs), Isolation,
Minor Dazai Osamu/Nakahara Chuuya (Bungou Stray Dogs),
Geniuses, Teenagers, Dazai Osamu Can't Cook (Bungou Stray Dogs),
Original Character(s), Murder, Mentions of Pedophilia
Language: English
Collections: Bungou Fics Normal
Stats: Published: 2021-08-20 Updated: 2022-12-24 Chapters: 29/? Words:
81944

I don't smoke
by Tinfoilhats

Summary

“You will both be undertaking long term stealth missions elsewhere, but you won’t be
operating together for the most part. Dazai-kun, you’ve heard of UA high school right?”
 “Of course I have, it’s like the most popular hero school in Japan or something. And now
you’re going to tell me I have to live my dreams and become a hero.” Dazai jokes.

The older man makes no sound, and Dazai turns to look at him.

“Wait. You’re serious?”

Mori sighs, “Dazai-kun, you will be infiltrating UA high school and posing as a student
there. You’ve already got experience in stealth training, but it will be a shame to let such a
valuable executive go..”

-------------

Dazai and Chuuya are sent on missions to infiltrate opposite sides of two parties that Mori
had deemed a threat to the mafia, and to just gather information from both sides. Is there
more to this assignment than what they were informed?

(editing the first few chapters atm to make them a bit better written, so there might be a
slightly inconsistent style of writing.. it does get better as it goes on though!!)

Notes

My discord is @Tin#7409 !! dm me!!

See the end of the work for more notes

 Leaving home

Dazai sprawls himself across the floor of his home, letting the breeze flutter over his hair through
the half-opened door. A few red leaves peek their way into his dark hunk of metal, with autumn in
full blast. His eyes track them as they settle onto a few stray half-written reports tucked away.

He’s thankful for the fact it is neither hot nor cold weather at the moment, which means his room
will stay at a fairly nice temperature during the daytime. Nighttime though… that’s another story.
At least the bandages keep him somewhat warm when the meagre blankets on his bed refuse to. He
needs to buy another quilt to add to the bed, now that he thinks about it. Ah, home sweet home.

There is a scarcity of exciting work to do in the mafia ever since the resolution of the Dragon Head
Conflict. Dazai never thought he’d say that. He hates work. He hates even looking at Mori, and the
conflict kept them apart frequently as the boss of the Port Mafia was continuously fretting over one
death or another. But now, everything is back to a tentative normal and it’s quite boring. Where’s
the excitement?

The sole good event in this past month is his newfound friendship between low ranking grunt Oda
Sakunosuke and suspicious information keeper Sakaguchi Ango by continuously meeting at Bar
Lupin at the same time in some freaky coincidence. Literally soulmates, he keeps telling them. It is
nice to have drinking buddies. Besides Chuuya (who had recently become a full member of the
Port Mafia), he didn’t really have any other acquaintances. Plus, Chuuya’s taste in wine can’t beat
a good old fashioned.

Dazai sits up in one swift motion, searching the floor for his phone. Should he go and bug Chuuya?
Dazai wonders if the ginger would slip on a banana peel if he conveniently placed them in every
doorway. Ugh but.. he already sees plenty of Chuuya during work hours, bleh. Grasping his phone,
he messages someone else,

Light shines through the falling leaves like a practised dance, painted with colours of red and
orange. Dazai’s footsteps patter along the alleyway in near silence, squeaking every few steps on
the occasional piece of trash or cigarette stub. Somehow, this alleyway feels more like home than
anywhere else ever was.

He enters the small bar to see Oda already there and sitting at his usual seat by the bar. He has a
contemplative look on his face, which is not uncommon for the adult.

“Odasaku!” Dazai calls out, waving excitedly with one hand as he takes a seat right next to him.

“Afternoon Dazai, how are you?” The older man smiles warmly at the teenager.

Sometimes Oda’s presence is exactly what Dazai needs.

“Why, I’m doing horrible! There’s nothing to do Odasaku, nothing!” Dazai’s hands shake Oda’s
shoulders back and forth. “My life is just so boring!!. Maybe I’ll jump off a bridge on my way
home today, to spice things up. ”

“If you die today, you’ll miss out on drinks tomorrow night.” Oda points out, raising his eyebrow.
“Wouldn't think you’d like that.”

“Agh, you’re right! Then it would be inconvenient for you two because you’d miss me so much!
Ah, whatever will I do? I guess I’ll have to save my bridge-filled activities for another time… A
shame, really.” He laments, hanging his head in mock defeat, before brightening up when a glass
of whiskey is placed in front of him.

Oda sighs contently as he sips away at his own whiskey tangled in between his fingers. Dazai
follows similarly.

“I adopted a few Orphans after the Dragon Head incident” He admits, staring into his glass.

“Oh? How predictable, Odasaku.” Dazai warmly says, a ghost of a smile on his lips. His hands pat
the other man on the shoulder as if to congratulate him

“…They needed a home, it was the mafia’s fault their parents were killed.”

They settle into a comfortable silence. It was often like this, the two of them would settle
comfortably in each other’s presence. Oda is a ruby surrounded by stone, it is always a shame he
refuses to kill. He’s just bound to the chains of desire. Dazai might find Oda’s idea of not killing to
appease the faraway dream of becoming an author foolhardily, but he never voices this. Maybe in
fear of upsetting the man, or maybe because he likes the determination in his eyes.

“That kindness is going to get you killed, you know?” Dazai turns to face his friend, seriousness
overtaking his usually playful demeanour.

Oda welcomes the scolding with amusement, but some element of surprise with the change of
attitude. “Maybe it will, only time will tell.”

An almost silence engulfs the small bar, minus the clinking of glasses and the bartend scuttling
around. Dazai’s phone vibrates, leaving him to abandon his drink in favour of answering that
damned thing. Unfortunately, it’s time for some sort of work.

He waves a cheerful goodbye to the older man before hurriedly heading to the Mafia headquarters.
The closer he gets, the harder he drags his feet until he is barely walking. He’s aware it looks
profoundly stupid, but so is Mori.

Dazai walks through the massive doors leading to the head of the Port Mafia’s office. Not a single
blind is down, leaving sunlight to stream in the masses through the glass. Dazai feels like an ant
compared to the massive ceiling.

“I’ve come to your beckoning call, unfortunately..” Dazai complains from the entrance of the large
room.

The doctor greets him with a disapproving stare. Dazai slumps onto the farthest chair away from
Mori, mindlessly fiddling with the silver ring that he stole from one of the traitors he tortured the
other day. The view from the office was a bittersweet sight. This was the room he was given a new
purpose, as well as the start of new chains pulling him down deeper into despair.

“Oi shitty Dazai! Why didn’t you check your texts, I couldn’t find the office!!” Chuuya’s familiar
voice echoes in the large room.

“My my, should Chuuya really be this rude in front of the boss?” Dazai grins sneakily as he pushes
a finger to his cheek in a thinking motion.

“Shut up.” He glares, opting to show respect by bowing shallowly to Mori.

The sly man only smiles, amused by their antics. He’s always found a strange fascination in their
dynamics, much to Dazai’s displeasure. Actually, anything to do with Mori is gross.
“I apologise for being late, Mori-san”

The redhead takes a seat next to Dazai and stares up at the boss expectantly. He’s always looked up
to Mori a disproportionate amount, in Dazai’s opinion, but that’s to be expected. Mori succeeded
where Chuuya failed, and even if he doesn’t recognise it, he’s in silent awe of his abilities.

“Alright, now that you’re both here, I have some serious matters to discuss.” Mori’s amused smile
drops down to a business smile, one that means he’s only smiling to try to put the other person at
ease.

Dazai straightens up his body. When Mori bothers putting on a front in front of him, it's never a
good sign. Dazai eyes the papers on his desk in an attempt to discern the motives behind the man.

“You will both be undertaking long term stealth missions elsewhere, but you won’t be operating
together for the most part. Dazai-kun, you’ve heard of UA high school right?”

“Of course I have, it’s like the most popular hero school in Japan or something. And now you’re
going to tell me I have to live my dreams and become a hero.” Dazai jokes.

The older man makes not a single sound, and Dazai turns to look at him, straight in the eyes. The
corners of his mouth turn downwards instinctively.

“Wait. You’re serious? Ah, I might really have to jump off that bridge, after all.” He says airily, but
he’s already planning out which bridge will be his best bet.

Mori sighs exasperatedly, “Dazai-kun, you will be infiltrating UA high school and posing as a
student there. You’ve already got experience in stealth training, but it will be a shame to let such a
valuable executive go..”

The bandaged executive recoils, about to say some very important choice words, when Mori
continues to speak.

“I’m quite sure you’re already aware as to why you’re heading there, but I’ll tell you again. You
need to gather information on the hero school’s plans regarding Yokohama, as well as when All
Might will be out of commission. Most of the time you’ll be monitoring any events during the time
you’re there”

“Right… Are you sure that’s it? What’s your other motive?” Dazai pushes, ignoring the warning
Mori sends from the corner of his eye.

“I haven’t the faintest clue what you’re talking about, Dazai. This is quite an important task. Plus,
if there is anything I’ve had the misfortune of forgetting to tell you, surely you can figure it out.”

Chuuya glances between the two geniuses. The tension in the air feels like it is about to cut off his
oxygen levels, so he tries to break it up by focusing the attention on himself. Dazai almost scowls
at Chuuya for breaking the anticipation. That was the one time he’d possibly get Mori to crack.

“Excuse me Boss, but if Dazai is busy doing some other assignment, why am I here?”

“Oh yes, Chuuya-kun! You will be doing an infiltration mission as well, but you’ll be joining the
league of villains. Easy work for a former gang leader, wouldn’t you agree?” He smiles, laying on
the compliments thick as to appease Chuuya.

Dazai is mildly surprised at the fact Mori is trusting the recent mafia member with this. He already
knows that he’s kept a tight leash on Chuuya in order to make sure he doesn’t rebel against the
mafia. Of course, Dazai knows the other fifteen-year-old wouldn’t do it. He’s sworn his loyalty to
Mori, much unlike Dazai who has sworn his loyalty to no one.

“The league of villains? What do they have to do with UA high..?” Chuuya inquires, racking his
brain for what he knows about the scarce ragtag group of criminals that had only recently started
making a name for themselves in the underworld.

Even though Yokohama is so secluded, the Port Mafia keeps tabs on the criminal groups near
them. Since Musutafu is only a few hours away, they are aware of a few criminal syndicates.
Although Dazai hasn’t the faintest idea why Mori is thinking they would be that important.
Unless… there’s something he’s not being told

Dazai interrupts the conversation, slamming his hand onto Mori’s desk in triumph. “Apparently,
the league of villains is planning to attack UA high! What a bunch of losers~”

“..Thanks for the input. It wasn’t needed, but yes, the league of villains will be attacking UA high
school sometime this year. You’ll both be sharing an apartment in Musutafu while you’re away.”

“And when will we start the mission?” Dazai raises his eyebrow at Mori, who only looks at him
with mild irritation at being interrupted again.

“You will commence operation three months from now, as the entrance exams for UA high will be
tested in late February. Chuuya-kun, I’ve hired a professional to teach you basic stealth and
infiltration tactics for the next couple of months. All you need to do Dazai is research and study.”

“Yes, Boss.” Chuuya bows his head.

“Agh, do I have to join some high school? What about my mafia duties? C’mon Mori, this is
torture! I’m so much more valuable to the Port Mafia.”

Mori sharpens his gaze to Dazai threateningly. “I expect you to do well Dazai-kun, or there will be
consequences that we both know you’d rather not experience.”

Dazai clamps his mouth shut, seizing up.

“Yes, Mori.”

Once the boss of the mafia appears content with the two, he pulls out two separate stacks of
stapled-together paper that had been laying on to the right of his person.

As he hands them out, he says “These contain all the information you will need for both of your
missions. Please take the time to read them. You are dismissed.”

Dazai grumbles a venomous thanks to Mori while Chuuya gives him a polite ‘thank you’. It’s not
particularly polite, but for a former street rat like Chuuya, he guesses it’ll have to do. He’ll fit in
with that wimpy organisation. The two young mafia members walk out elbowing each other. They
begin their training for their departure from Yokohama.

2 and a half months before Dazai and Chuuya leave Yokohama

“I can’t understand how you get away with such blatant disrespect towards Mori. Arent, you like…
somewhat indebted to him?” Chuuya comments during one of the days the two of them find
themselves in each other's company, somewhat willingly.

“But Chuuuuyaaaa~ That old man deserves it. Plus, if anything he’s indebted to me!” Dazai smiles
almost fondly as if he’s remembering something from a long time ago.

“Why do you hold such a grudge against him?” Chuuya grumbles, adding some chives to the
sizzling meal in front of him.

“A dumb dog like you wouldn’t understand genius intellectual reasoning” Dazai answers, not
giving any more information to the shorter of the two.

“Hahh?? I’m the one cooking here, I’ll literally serve you a cooked boot next time. I’m not joking,
Dazai.”

Dazai jumps up mischievously, twirling around. He bats his eyelashes at Chuuya, holding himself
daintily as he sprawls across the kitchen island. His hand moves to grasp the other’s calloused
palm, and Chuuya jerks away immediately.

“Chuuya would do that for me? How romantic!!” Dazai says, undeterred as he reaches for him
again.

“Go to hell.” He scoffs as he brings over two steaming bowls of rice, topped with what looked like
some sort of pork.

“And another delicious meal made by Chuuya! Hey Chuuya, ever thought of dropping out of the
mafia to become a chef~?” Dazai teases, lighting up in glee when Chuuya goes red in the face from
either embarrassment or simply because it’s his last straw with Dazai.

Although the food smells great, Dazai never has an appetite. Chuuya stares at him for slightly too
long as if he’s evaluating him. Deterred by the attention, he starts to eat.

“Shut up Dazai, I’m not a good cook, you’re just below average.” Chuuya deadpans, dragging
Dazai into the chair across from him.

“I’m wounded by your words, Chibi!”

Next time, Chuuya does serve Dazai a boot. It’s the part of the only pair Dazai owns too.

Two months before Dazai and Chuuya leave Yokohama

Dazai stares up at the ceiling of Chuuya’s apartment. Chuuya’s is much easier to get to than his
own, so he often lounges around in it when he can’t be bothered to lug himself all the way to the
junkyard. And, to piss the other boy off. It’s a real hobby of his. Also, the floor of this luxury
apartment is carpeted, which makes it great to sit on when it’s winter.

Since Chuuya’s pay is pretty high (Probably higher than most other members of his rank. A ploy to
convince Chuuya not to turn on the Port Mafia) he can easily afford a higher-end apartment in Port
Mafia territory. Dazai now has a resident sofa that he’s been using for everything, his favourite
piece of furniture. With fewer duties due to preparations for the mission, he’s been going over
information with Chuuya. Things like knowledge about heroes and history from after the pre-quirk
era. Dazai has also been begrudgingly teaching Chuuya about manipulation tactics.

Although today, that’s not why he’s over. Dazai’s eyes flicker to the bright lights twinkling on the
large pine(?) tree. It’s Christmas eve, and Chuuya insisted that he stay to celebrate. Dazai doesn’t
usually celebrate holidays, but apparently the Sheep celebrated every year and since it’s technically
Dazai’s fault Chuuya isn’t with them anymore, he’s insisted Dazai celebrate with him as a
replacement.
At first, he was unamused by the idea, but now he’s actually excited. He’s even bought gifts for
Oda and Ango.
Dazai perks up when the doorknob starts jiggling, pulling himself up from the lying position he
was just in to sit up curiously. Chuuya’s head pokes in, one hand holding a bottle and his other
carefully placing his hat on the rack at the entrance to his apartment.

“You’re here so early… Don’t tell me you’re actually excited? You?” Chuuya quirks his brow,
grinning at the idea.

Dazai crosses his arms as he shoves his head away from Chuuya. “Hmph! I’ll have you know, I’m
a very festive person.”

“You’re just after the gifts and alcohol.”

“Alcohol?” Dazai’s head swerves back hungrily. He clambers over the couch to stand in front of
Chuuya like a loyal dog, hands clasped together. “Let’s get this party started!”

Chuuya sighs but doesn’t disagree. “Wait until I get changed and get the cookies out of the tin on
the counter. There should be some candy canes in the pantry, too.” He orders as he places the wine
and some takeout on his coffee table. “Don’t you dare eat or drink anything before I get back. I’ll
know.”

“Yes, Nakahara Chuuya sir! Shall I dust the furniture as well?” Dazai salutes from his spot in the
doorway as Chuuya closes his bedroom door with no response.

Dazai shockingly obeys Chuuya’s orders, setting out all the snacks onto a cutesy plate next to the
takeout. He peeks over the plastic bag to try and figure out what it is. There’s definitely rice in
there. Whatever Chuuya bought Dazai will eat, it’s not like he has any preferences. He even goes as
far as to get out some wine glasses in his agonising wait for Chuuya to return. The shower has
stopped at least, so he must be close to getting dressed.

At long last, finally, Chuuya walks out with his hair in a tiny ponytail at the back and in some
loose-fitting pants and a sweater.

“Wow, I’m shocked. You did everything I asked.” Chuuya praises sarcastically.

He sits cross-legged on the floor and reaches for the bottle of wine to open. If Dazai has to guess,
its some sort of sweet red. He’s more excited to get drunk than to taste the alcohol though. Dazai
sits on the edge of the couch, melting onto the armrest like it’s the only thing supporting his body.

“Ok, time for presents. You’re supposed to unwrap them on Christmas day, but I don’t give two
shits about that tradition. Christmas day is usually spent nursing hangovers, so the real party is the
night before!” Chuuya points at Dazai, narrowing his eyes. “You better have brought one, or else
I’m not giving you yours.”

“Yes, yes, of course I did. Now, you go first!” Dazai orders, placing both palms facing outwards in
the direction of Chuuya. He closes his eyes in anticipation.

A somewhat heavy object is dropped into his palms, making his hands drop for a second before
grasping the object tightly.

“You don’t need to close your eyes. It’s wrapped, idiot.”

“...I knew that. I just wanted a bit of extra surprise in there.” Dazai defends himself, but his ears
still burn red and Chuuya can see it too.
He slowly unwraps the ugly red and green wrapping paper, tugging at it until the object underneath
reveals itself. When Dazai doesn’t say anything except stare at it, Chuuya starts to ramble.

“I thought, y’know, since you don’t value many material gifts, you’d want something that you
could use. And I don’t know… make memories with.” He trails off, waiting for a harsh or cruel
remark from Dazai.

“Hmm… I like it! Thanks, Chu-chu, you’re the best!” Dazai snaps a selfie with the two of them
with his newfound camera.

It’s a somewhat expensive model from what he can tell, but also practical. He knows with
Chuuya’s pay, he could afford whatever camera he wanted. But he’s still thankful for the gift,
considering he hasn’t been given anything for ages. Chuuya then slams his hands on the coffee
table, demanding his gift.

“But.. I’m so shy! What if Chibi doesn’t like my gift?!” Dazai cries out as he clutches his chest. “I
would be forever heartbroken… I’d pack my bags and leave… to Poland…”

“You better not play with me Dazai… or I’m taking your gift back.”

Dazai gasps, bringing a hand up to his mouth. “You… you wouldn’t! I guess… I’ll have to give it
to you. Close your eyes!!”

He brings the gift out from his secret hiding place (behind the Christmas tree), cursing as those
little prickly pine needles prick him like knives. But finally, he places the gift on Chuuya’s head
with a satisfied grin.

“What is this?! Why is it so long… DAZAI!!” Chuuya growls, pouncing at the poor form of the
bandaged teen. Dazai squeaks and catapults himself off his spot on the lounge in order to try to
stop his impending death.

He punts the abnormally long top hat at Dazai. The worst part is, it’s actually really nice looking
and exactly Chuuya’s taste. It’s just… well… as tall as an average skateboard. Perhaps even longer
than one.

“Help, help! I’m being attacked!!” Dazai screams as he ducks Chuuya’s ferocious kicks aimed at
his head. “The real gift it inside it! I swear! I really swear! Please spare me, kind sir…”

Chuuya stops abruptly, looking inside the hat suspiciously. He thrusts his hand in to find an
envelope.

“You better not be playing with me…” He warns Dazai who takes a few steps back as a precaution.

Out of the envelope comes a ticket to a sold-out concert Chuuya had been dying to go to. He
almost drops it in shock, whipping his head around to a now smug Dazai.

“Wow… thanks. I guess. I’m not going to even ask how you got this, because they were definitely
sold out on every website.” He says somewhat sincerely. “Ok, let’s drink!”

1 and a half months before Dazai and Chuuya leave Yokohama

Dazai would be away for up to three whole years. He didn’t particularly care about heroes, and
never did as a child. There was just something about their egos fuelled by fame that just annoyed
him. He sees nothing wrong with a desire for fame, but having a whole system built on it was
bound to fall eventually. Personally, Dazai never wanted to get involved.
He couldn’t get involved if he tried, anyways. His fate had been twisted by the underworld long
ago, and he is destined to stay on the dark side of society for the rest of his life. It’s just how it is, a
simple fact like how grass is green and water is needed to survive. There’s never been an
alternative to think about.

His attention turns back to his laptop. Dazai doesn’t find that much use for computers except for
the occasional soap opera or search for information. The latter reason is why he’s sitting with a
laptop on his legs on his residential couch at Chuuya’s. With one click, he finds the site he’s been
searching for. The official UA website glowers at him through the screen. It may prove to be a
challenge to hack, but he should polish up his skills.

Hours pass frighteningly quickly as the mafioso smiles at the screen in triumph. Finally… finally
he had been able to hack into the UA database! That goddam rat, Dazai is going to have fun
tormenting him after this stupid assignment.

The data provides is interesting, in his opinion. Nothing out of his expectations. They are going to
be fighting robots for the entrance exam, followed by a written test. He knows he’ll pass the latter
with flying colours, but Dazai is unsure about the practical exam. He’s never been great at the
physical stuff, that’s more Chuuya’s thing. Brutes aren’t ever very high on the hierarchy, regardless
of what side they’re on. Dazai prefers to have others do his bidding.

After looking through the actual UA website, he discovers that he can in fact bring support items
under two conditions. One: They have to be handmade, and two: They have to be approved by the
UA staff. Goodie!

He gets to work with a newfound determination to create something he can use as a backbone for
the practical exam. It’s never too late to become an engineer!

“What the fuck are those?” Chuuya asks, staring at the items haphazardly strewn around his own
living room.

Dazai’s attention is diverted from his current project to the newly arrived teen staring down at him
with his arms crossed threateningly. He waves in a friendly matter, hoping that it serves as an
apology for making a mess on his floor.

“Don’t be so vulgar, Chuuya! As a matter of fact, these are my wonderful support items for UA,
produced by yours truly! My house is just too small to cater to these things, so I turn to my knight
in shining armour, Chuuya, the Prince of ugly hats.”

Maybe it isn’t a good idea to provoke Chuuya, but it doesn’t really matter. He wouldn’t kick Dazai
out when the weather is this cold.

“Why you- ugh, just-” Chuuya fumes, about to storm away until Dazai catches his attention.

“Want me to demonstrate?” Dazai asks with a sly grin, luring in Chuuya who is obviously
interested, no matter how hard he tries to hide it. “I’ve got a few small knives for lots of different
uses. I also designed a gun that can fire an array of bullet types disguised as a grappling gun.”

Dazai holds up the small pistol look-alike gun. Chuuya leans towards the display of objects,
observing them. His hands run along the knives, moving smoothly while he hums in approval.

“I didn’t know you could make items like these.”

Dazai gives Chuuya a smug look while he points the gun at Chuuya’s hat on the dining table.
“Of course I can, this stuff’s all easy for a genius like me! Your little slug brain can’t keep up.” He
laughs boisterously, chest puffing out in pride.

He didn’t know he could make support items too until a few days ago… but Chuuya does not need
to know that.

“I shouldn’t have complimented you..” Chuuya sighs as he deflates onto his couch.

1 month before Dazai and Chuuya leave Yokohama

Dazai passes the remaining days leading up to the transition to Musutafu tinkering with mechanics
and reading up on Musutafu history. Naturally, he also makes time to visit Oda whenever he can,
sometimes convincing Ango to tag along.

His last drink with the two is slightly bittersweet, but he makes them promise to catch up with him
when he comes back to Yokohama. He ends up packing his bags that same night, still intoxicated,
but somehow not missing a single item.

The day Dazai and Chuuya leave Yokohama

The two boys peek through the door of the apartment they are going to be living in for the
foreseeable future. The home is fairly simple, a two-bedroom apartment with basic needs like a
bathroom and kitchen.

“I can’t believe I have to live with you…” Chuuya complains, dragging his own suitcase into a
room.

Dazai laughs evilly before answering, “I’m most excited myself, actually. I’ve always wanted a
roommate! Ooooh, I wonder if I can make coffee with energy drinks instead of water…”

Chuuya shudders and makes sure the coffee machine is tucked safely in his room.

Dazai doesn’t really have any reason to shop for personal belongings, but he knows they will need
some basic household items very soon. He is counting on his partner to buy everything they need.
Dazai just wants a blanket and some energy drinks. Oh, and some more bandages.

Dazai walks out of his room in his usual attire, noticing Chuuya is nowhere to be found. Strange!
He is quite curious about what Chuuya’s assignment is, and the specifics. Dazai sort of forgot to
ask, a bit preoccupied in those months. Sort of. He’ll see if Chuuya still has the information packet
Mori gave him.

The recruitment process most likely has to occur before the school year starts, considering neither
of them has any idea when they plan to strike UA. How will the league take him in though? Does
Mori have connections with them already?

As he leaves his home to do a bit of shopping, he realises there are very few people in business
attire like him. How strange… Maybe Musutafu has a new anti-suits trend on social media. Is it not
normal to wear them? He heads back home after buying a few probably not actually necessary
items.

A few days later, Dazai pokes his head around the kitchen counter to see his housemate looking a
bit distressed in the doorway of their shared apartment.

“Chuuya!” He exclaims gleefully, waving with his free hand.

“Dazai..”

Dazai grins at the short teen.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?? There’s smoke everywhere?!” Chuuya dashes into the
kitchen, waving his hat around in an attempt to clear the smoke.

“See.. about that... I was trying to make pancakes for dinner but obviously, that didn’t turn out very
well.” He holds up the burnt mush on his pan, waving away the smoke that almost makes its way
into his eyes.

“Can we please just get takeout..” Chuuya pleads, already putting his shoes back on,

Dazai opens up the windows near the kitchen.

“Sure!!”

Muttering profanities, Chuuya grabs Dazai’s arm as they take the elevator downstairs. It’s an oddly
small elevator, he thinks, as he stares at his reflection in the mirror. Why do elevators always have
mirrors? It’s a real mystery…

“While we’re here we might as well explore!!” Dazai suggests eagerly, pushing Chuuya out to the
ground floor with one hand on each shoulder.

“Hm.. that’s actually a pretty good idea..”

The duo walks along the streets in Musutafu. Despite it already being late at night, shops are still
bustling with customers. Laughter echoes through the streets as workers have their Friday night
drinks. Dazai marvels at the greenery in the particular part of the city they’ve found themselves in.
Seems like a tree rehabilitation plan, by what one of the signs says.

They both halt at a small-looking takeout restaurant to order food. It’s already got a small line, but
the service looks decently fast. Dazai forces Chuuya to stand in line for him and get whatever
while he runs off like a little kid. There’s vague yelling coming from the redhead, but since he
doesn’t want to lose his spot in line, Dazai is safe from his wrath.

Thankfully, Chuuya does end up buying food for Dazai even with him running off.

“Chuuya, Chuuya! Let’s eat on a rooftop!!” Dazai urges eagerly, pulling at his free arm (the other
has all their food in it) and pointing towards a mildly high building that has an easy to access fire
escape.

“I guess so..”

Dazai grabs their food as an apology (and an attempt to get on Chuuya’s good side) and they
saunter through an alleyway of Musutafu to get to their building.

“This is certainly different to Yokohama… Hey Chibi, is this your first time out of Yokohama?”

“Why do you care, bastard??” He huffs defensively, before wincing as he turns away from Dazai.
”Maybe it is.”

Dazai laughs as they clamber up a fire escape, offering a hand to Chuuya which he denies. The
metal is very cold at this time at night, compared with the chilly weather of winter. His hands feel
like they’re about to go numb.
“Am I not allowed to ask questions? Chuuya should stop jumping to such weird conclusions. He
won’t make any friends with that attitude.” Dazai tuts, wagging his finger at Chuuya who still
hasn’t reached the top of the building yet.

“I’m going to push you off this building. You’re so much worse than I am, you heartless
mackerel.”

Dazai chuckles at Chuuya’s comment as they devour the food Chuuya bought. The night stars
shine brighter than Yokohama. It does have a somewhat evil aura shrouding it, he guesses, but it’s
also home. He leans back as he supports himself with his arms, letting his legs stretch out. He can
see the stars better now. Chuuya sits crosslegged, too invested in his food to care about anything
else.

“Oh my god, this is way better than the cafe in the Port Mafia building.” Chuuya says as soon as he
finishes the food, slamming the takeout container down before floating in down to whatever
dumpster there is at the bottom of the building.

“For once I agree with you..”

The two mindlessly bicker as usual while Dazai continues to eat (rather slowly). He offers the
remains of his food to Chuuya, who gladly accepts.

“So how are you going to get recruited to the league of villains?” Dazai prompts, scooting forward
until his legs are hanging off the building.

“I’m pretty sure Mori just wants me to storm in or something… he told me they value strength so I
gotta show off a bit and complain about hero society or some shit they should recruit me.” Chuuya
shrugs.

“That sounds… easy enough. The League of Villains is a horrible name.”

“I know right!” They both laugh as they spend one of their only civil nights together, watching the
night take its course. Dazai sometimes wishes they’d stay like this forever.

Dazai sighs quite dramatically as the morning sun peaks through his blinds. Chuuya and he have
settled into their apartments well enough by now, and the UA exam is today. Chuuya is off to
recruit himself to the villain’s side while Dazai himself is unfortunately about to fulfil his task, the
gruelling job of going to school.

His bedroom is still plain, despite him inhabiting it for over a week already. He doesn’t really have
many belongings besides the whiskey bottles shoved into the corner of his shipping container.

He supposes it is time for him to start his adventures in the underground of Musutafu. A fake Id
would be a good asset, for some… less legal activities. Ah, but that should wait until after he does
the exam for UA. He’s going to have like… one month of free time until school begins.

Dazai idly hums a song he found on the radio yesterday, dressing in a simple striped long sleeve
black and white shirt over loose but flexible black cargo-style pants. He doesn’t plan to draw too
much attention to himself, if the teachers become too suspicious it would be undesirable. He has no
interest in bright-eyed hero hopefuls.

Dazai pockets an open cigarette box as he packs up his satchel bag. He opts to wear the clothes he
is wearing for the practical exam because changing there is a definite no… or at least for as long as
he can. He knows it’s sort of inevitable. Anyways, going to school in his combat clothes is just
more convenient. He can use that time for changing for other things, like killing himself. How
wonderful.

He puts on the fingerless gloves with spikes on the knuckles that can easily slice skin that he made
a while back. Good to punch robots' weak spots.

Dazai slides on his familiar black coat. It’s perfect for the entrance exam, with many pockets that
aren’t noticeable to the eye. Maybe a bit too… extra, but he does need the pockets.

He leaves the apartment with plenty of time to spare. UA is luckily only a fifteen minute walk
away, and he gets to enjoy that lovely cold air on his walk. He hopes he spots some cowering
students to make him feel better about having to do this.

He still cannot believe he has to do this exam. The sheer idea of him doing it is crazy! He lights his
first cigarette of the day.

As the smoke crowds his lungs, he feels his anxiousness fade away into a light buzzing under his
skin. Dazai allows himself to bask in the pleasant feeling.

As the large building of UA arrived in his line of vision, it settles in.

He’s going to a fucking hero school.

 Entrance exams...
Chapter Summary

entrance exams!!

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

How do they fund such a large school? He knows for sure the fees are dirt cheap in comparison to
many other top hero schools, but somehow they have the top facilities out of all of them. The large
towering form of UA does nothing to make him feel welcome. In fact, it almost feels like he’s
walking into a deathtrap.

Dazai hurries past the anxiety-filled examinees to find his testing hall. The negative energy is
terrible here! Dazai is (shockingly) a bit nervous about the practical because it’s inevitable that he
will stand out with his array of not so legal looking support items. It’s not like there are any other
options though, he’ll probably stick out during the actual classes either way.

Dazai arrives to see many desks and chairs lined up in rows with names on them. The UA hall is
massive, with large roofs and sunlight streaming in either side. It must be some sort of gymnasium.
He notices that each desk has some sort of name and student number on them, so he quickly finds
his own desk and sits down, eager to start. With twenty minutes before the official start, the hall is
barely filled. Dazai takes out his phone and idly answers inquiries from subordinates, then plays
some random game on his phone.

It seems like very few people have been notified about the details of Chuuya and his assignments.
It must be quite confusing to have both members of Soukoku gone from Yokohama. If an enemy
organisation feels like striking, it’s prime time. Dazai assumes that Mori has made up some sort of
cover story for them for now. The room quickly fills up and chatter echoes throughout it before a
quick mic tap by Nedzu silences the crowd.

“Good afternoon, today all of you are here because you’re aspiring heroes! This is the first part of
the UA high school exam. You will have an hour to complete the written test, which covers an
array of subjects. After the time is up, you will have a thirty-minute break before you all have to
meet at the auditorium for a briefing on the practical exam. Are there any questions?”

Nobody raises their hands, all eager to start the test. A few teachers hand out their test booklets and
once all distributed, a countdown starts.

It can’t be that hard, it’s only a high school exam.

Dazai gets to work on the booklet, shuffling through the questions. It is all easy work for him, he
isn’t named the demon prodigy for no reason. Since UA is such a top school, Chuuya isn’t smart
enough to even pass the entrance exam. That’s one of the reasons Dazai is stuck with the worst job.
As he approaches the end of the test, there are still almost 40 minutes left. Doing what he does
best, he confidently raises his hand and addresses the supervising teacher that walks over to him.

“Excuse me ms, I’m done with the written test. May I leave the testing hall?” Dazai asks, much
louder than necessary.

Some other contestants glance at him nervously. He can feel their eyes trailing his form and his
content smile. The hero that he addresses has long dark hair and red glasses. Midnight, he recalls.

“Sweetheart, are you sure you’re done?” She inquires as she leans in towards his complete test
papers.

“I am.”

“My, we certainly have a confident examinee right here.” She purrs, “You can head out of the hall
and into the cafeteria.” Midnight collects his test paper as he walks past his competitors with an air
of superiority.

Dazai sits alone in the cafeteria. He must be the first person to finish the exam, quite a feat of his.
Chuuya must hear about this! He’s pretty sure in the time before the practical exam, the lunch guy
is supposed to be serving snacks. Dazai searches the room for any sort of food, but finds himself
evaluating the room itself instead. One would think a high school as renounced as UA would be
fancier, but the halls are simple and the cafeteria is nice, sure, but not that nice.

A few examinees leave the testing room before the designated stopping time and they awkwardly
mill around the cafeteria area, much like Dazai did when he first arrived. Some group up to chat in
hushed whispers and others are content to go onto their phones or plug in their earbuds. As soon as
the exam finishes, teens storm the cafeteria eagerly. Deciding it is simply too busy, he slips into
one of the hallways to sit in peace.

Dazai waits and waits, reading his lovely suicide book again. At least he has the familiar red cover
as company. Hm… death by piranhas. Doesn't sound that appealing, to be honest. He’s always up
for drowning, but being eaten alive is a different story. It sounds way too painful.

He observes a few crowds of students making their way to the auditorium, chatting away. Dazai
had already registered all the weapons and tools he had engineered, so he has no need to change or
anything else. He follows the crowd as he shoves his book back into his bag. When he arrives, he
drops to a seat in the back and waits restlessly for the explanations to begin.

Lights dramatically switch on as the pro hero Present Mic jumps eagerly onto the stage. His hair is
slicked up almost comically, teeth baring in a jolly smile.

“Welcome to my show today! Everybody say ‘HEYYYY’!” Present Mic enthusiastically yells,
leaning back dramatically.

“HEYYY!” Dazai shouts back, pumping his arms into the air.

He likes this man’s energy. The two people beside him look vaguely uncomfortable, to which
Dazai huffs. No one has any enthusiasm these days. The hero gives him a thumbs up and a wink,
which Dazai returns eagerly.

“I like your spunk! Now, with the robots…” He begins explaining the point system. It is as Dazai
expected, robots.

Although what he should be doing is using all his lovely inventions, it may turn on him. If he relies
solely on support gear, teachers may be hesitant to reward him with points or place him in the hero
course. It could label him as incapable or dangerous… he is definitely capable! With a gun, that is.
Fighting robots usually isn’t on his daily agenda. That’s more Chuuya’s style, if anything.
An examinee raises his hand, and when Present Mic calls on him he stands up abruptly. Almost
like a robot himself.

“On the printout, there are four types of faux villains. If that is a misprint then UA, the most
prominent school in japan, should be ashamed of that foolish mistake! We examinees are here in
this place because we wish to be exemplary heroes.” He yells, then turns to a boy somewhere
farther up to point at. “ And you over there with the curly hair! You’ve been muttering the whole
time. It’s distracting! If you’re here on a pleasure trip, then you should leave immediately!”

Who put a stick up his ass? Dazai prays he doesn’t pass the exam and breaks his legs while he
walks down a flight of stairs.

The boy with green curly hair he points to squeaks out a response that Dazai can’t catch before
sliding further into his seat. The boy seems to be uncomfortable, but it didn’t seem that it was from
the embarrassment specifically. Dazai searches around the boy and his eyes land on a prudish-
looking boy who has spiky hair and the same uniform as the green haired one.

Green hair glances at spiky hair every few seconds with fear and uncertainty clouding his eyes.
The way he is acting toward spiky hair makes it obvious that there is some weird familiarity
between them, but also a clear power dynamic. The blonde is egotistical, judging by the way he
looks down upon anyone who turns his way as well as his body language. He’s confident that he
can ace the exam, so must have quite the powerful quirk.

Childhood friends to a bully and victim situation, Dazai guesses. Maybe he’ll ask if they’re dating.
Anything to piss off the Chuuya-but-worse guy. Dazai internally debates the best ways to anger his
soon-to-be classmate.

Present Mic diverts the attention back to himself once again, much to the relief of the green-haired
boy. The lights flicker to him like a spotlight.

“Okay okay, examinee number 7111! Thanks for the great message!” He puts his thumb up as the
projector lights up to show another few robots. “The fourth type of villain is worth zero points.
This guy’s just an obstacle! There’s one in every battle centre; an obstacle that will go crazy in
narrow spaces. It’s not impossible to defeat, but there’s no reason to defeat it either. I recommend
you listeners try to avoid it!”

“Thank you very much! Please excuse my interruption.” The uptight annoying blue-haired boy
says as he sits down.

A few whispers make their way through the auditorium, excitement and nervousness buzzing in
the air.

“Finally, I’ll give you listeners a present- our school motto! The hero Napoleon Bonaparte once
said: ‘A true hero is someone who overcomes life’s misfortunes. Go beyond. PLUS ULTRA!”
Present Mic yells perhaps a bit too excitedly “Now everyone, good luck suffering!”

The cheers that echo throughout the auditorium are half hearted and pathetic, obviously by people
who’s minds are occupied with more important things. The students are allowed a ten-minute
period to change into clothes more suited to exercise. Dazai looks down to his ID card, finding the
group D symbol on it. He looks around, spotting the sign to the bus.

The bus ride is short and awkward with muted chatter. UA had separated all the students from the
same schools into different arenas beforehand, so unless someone is really lucky, most people are
left to be friendless during their practical trials. He finds himself next to a boy with a manga panel
replacing his head, and he wonders what will happen if he nullifies him. Ah, but what if he kills
him? Worst case scenarios, cmon. He can’t be murdering people in plain sight.

Mori had put on his school record that he went to a small school in Hiroshima for middle school.
The school is uniform free, so he wouldn’t be required to turn up in one. It’s still risky to put down
a school that he definitely didn’t go to. If UA calls the supposed school and inquires about him for
some reason, it would be a very awkward situation

He’d stick out if he said he was homeschooled though, so either option poses the same amount of
risk. He’s sure if he simply blends in everything will be a-ok.

Dazai did go to school until about fifth grade, after that he was recruited by the Port Mafia. Sort of.
He didn’t officially join until the last year or so. He was in Mori’s care those years in between. It
was terrible.

Maybe the horrible things done to him were for the better. He wouldn’t want a monster like him to
thrive in society… no, he is much better in the shadows.

Everyone gathers near the starting line, shoving each other lightly to try to get a place at the front.
Dazai slides on his fingerless gloves, holding a knife in one hand. He plans to just lug around the
extra weapons unless he needs them desperately, or if he’s not racking him enough points. It would
be a tad confusing for the teachers to find a fifteen-year-old proficient in many types of weapons.
Better to stick with a plain, old dagger.

“Your ten minutes starts… now! GO!” Midnight, the same hero from the testing room, announces
enthusiastically.

Some other examinees freeze up because of the unexpected countdown, but Dazai’s reaction time
is greatly improved compared to a normal teenager. He pushes past his competitors and starts
running as fast as he can. Dazai takes the lead. Not for long, obviously. There are many quirks that
improve one’s speed, which is useful for a time-based exam like the UA entrance exam. Dazai has
nothing but his cursed ability, so he has to rely solely on his physical capabilities.

He approaches a one-pointer and searches for weak points in its bulky armour. The eye appears to
be a glowing target, probably set up to persuade examinees to aim for it. That’s exactly what Dazai
does, he jumps up and plunges his knife right into the robot’s eye. It splutters and then comes to a
complete stop, falling down.

He has to earn at least forty to pass he assumes, but that also includes the rescue points. If he
accumulates a bit over 25 villain points. he will be able to get another 25 in rescue points, more or
less. He is almost certain rescue points are part of a real, actual point system. It just doesn’t make
sense for there to only be points for violence when the whole hero idea is saving people. So,
Rescue points: Or hero points, are ones that are rewarded for helping other examinees. In Dazai’s
opinion, these are much easier to obtain than villain points. Less frolicking about involved.

Dazai directs his attention to the next two robots, both two pointers. He clambers up on one of
them, the robot attempting to fling him off. He reaches the head of the robot and crouches on top of
it, flinging his knife into the eye of the approaching two pointer and punching the one he is on top
of using his spiked gloves. They power down somewhat simultaneously as Dazai retrieves his
knife from the robot’s eye. He continues to pull similar stunts, pulling others out of the way of
harm in between attacking the robots.

He mentally tallies his point collection. 24 villain points, four minutes left. As he is about to
collect his twenty-fifth point, the whole testing area rumbles as if there is an earthquake.
 A massive shadow approaches like it is descended from the heavens itself. Examinees frantically
scurry away from the large robot. Dazai would be a bit more scared too if he weren’t interested in
the market of dying.

It must be the zero pointer, the one they were told held no worth. It’s probably true, but also it’s an
opportunity to spot people who stand out. Lucky he’s supposed to blend in then.

He follows the crowd, helping other injured examinees on the way. He still needs to secure his spot
with rescue points, after all. He makes quick work of a few stray one-pointers as he approaches the
exit. As he ducks into an alleyway to catch his breath, there is an announcement.

The exam finishes.

Chapter End Notes

thanks for readinnnggg

 An unexpected meeting
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Dazai walks out of the UA gates grumpily. What a waste of time, that exam was useless. No further
acquaintances, no valuable insight. It feels quite unproductive for someone who could have been
doing mafia work and contributing to protecting Yokohama. Ok, his motives aren’t that noble. It’s
just more fun than fighting robots and working up a sweat.

Dazai arrives at his apartment already past five pm. Chuuya is nowhere in sight, but that’s pretty
normal.

Dazai doesn’t do much in his free time. He doesn’t really have any free time, it’s usually filled with
new orders from Mori. Sometimes he wonders if Mori even thinks of him as anything but a puppet
for his own entertainment. His eyes slink around the apartment. He could eat, but it’s also not
particularly hungry.

Right now he can... Sleep. Yeah, sleep sounds good. He strips himself of his clothes and turns on
the shower to the hottest setting. The water runs down his scarred skin, burning it bright red. Steam
curls around his body and settles around the bathroom.

Pain is such an inconvenient way to divert his agonising life. Some may think he may sound full of
himself, or that he’s exaggerating, but there are simply no other words to describe how he lives his
daily life. His existence itself is unfortunate and isolating.

Dazai lazily steps out of the shower, wrapping his body with those familiar white bandages. He
makes his way to his room to find some fresh clothes from his untouched suitcase. Track Pants and
a long-sleeved shirt. The sun leaves orange light filtering through the only window in his room.
The warmth is somewhat pleasant, he supposes.

Chuuya will probably make his way home soon, at nine pm latest. If he isn’t home by midnight
Dazai might have to drag him back himself… it would be no good to have his dog run away.

His bed is soft, far softer than his one back in Yokohama. It’s like it’s swallowing him up and
trapping him. It's so odd to come back home to a real building with real aircon and electricity. And
coming back to Chuuya. Back in that dirty shipping container, there was only him. Now he’s
surrounded by people constantly, and it’s frightening.

With a lot of twisting and turning, he finally succumbs to sleep.

When Dazai wakes up, it is dark out. The moon shines brightly down upon his window and the
cold breeze ambles past the gap. Dazai shivers at the outside temperature. He must have left the
window open. The sheets on his bed are tangled far beyond imagination, so he kicks them to the
floor entirely. He’ll deal with that later… probably.

Dazai strides into the kitchen, looking for signs of Chuuya’s return. Sure enough, his ugly hat is
sitting on the dining table and there is a half-filled glass of water next to it. He glances at his
phone, where the time reads 2:07 am. Dazai takes a seat next to that stupid hat. He wonders when
Chuuya got home. Did he eat when he was out? There’s no sign of food around, so that’s the most
likely theory.

He sighs heavily, resting his head on the kitchen counter and starts tapping random patterns on the
stone surface. Why couldn’t he have stayed asleep longer? Now he’s awake and won’t be able to
sleep.

It’s no fun. It’s terrible. It’s life threatening boredom.

Well, he could go out… A walk never hurt anyone, except for that time he went out for a late-night
stroll and was attacked by a gang of local thugs hired by another small organisation to assassinate
the demon prodigy of the Port Mafia. They were easy to trick and he got away with a lovely jacket
as a souvenir.

He needs to buy some whiskey and another cigarette packet, anyway. Speaking of cigarettes, this is
a perfect time to go out for a smoke. He treads back into his bedroom to find his black coat thrown
into the corner of his room. There are already wrinkles on it. Usually, the coat is dry cleaned every
few weeks by Mori (Dazai couldn’t care less how his clothes look. Mori hates it when Dazai looks
messy). He piles everything he needs into the pockets on the inside of the coat, including his pistol.

The apartment they are staying in is quite nice, but it is not in the nicest area in musutafu. There is
no downstairs lobby or anything. Just a small door leading to the manager's room. That’s fine with
Dazai, it made it easier to go out. He takes a large breath as he inhales the night air around him. He
thinks the air always feels fresher at night when there are fewer people to breathe it in.

Streetlights illuminate the empty roads as he walks down them with no true destination. A stray car
or two speeds by every few minutes, pushing the wind onto his face and fluttering his hair back.

Today might be the day that death hunts him down. If it were to look Dazai straight into his eyes
and deny his wish after finding out what a vicious thing he is, that may give him the motivation to
wake up another day. To live and breathe like every other person. If death will reject him, then he
might be able to live with no other choice obtainable.

Dazai climbs up a fire escape to the top of an unknown building. It seems as if he’s always on top
of buildings. It’s an odd sentiment, but he likes to be up so high. Everyone looks like an ant from
up there. And if he falls off, everything will be gone in an instant. A snap of his fingers. The
weightlessness of liberation. And then absolutely nothing.

His bandages press against his bad eye uncomfortably as the wind whips his face. Dazai’s clothes
share the same treatment, flapping around uselessly. Goosebumps appear as the wind reaches his
skin like a piece of ice poking him. He lets his feet dangle off the edge of the building as he takes
another dull-witted drag of the almost burnt cigar. These moments are somehow horrible and
extraordinary when he’s alone.

There are so many people living here on earth. They live each and every day. But what is the
point? The everlasting cycle of it all drives him to madness. He can’t understand how they are
alright with the mundane routine of it all and not once strive to break it. They don’t have control.
No control at all, Dazai never has control.

The only thing he has control over is his life. If he can die, he will. Mori told him God won’t
forgive him, so he must face judgment for his sins sometime. He’s not afraid of punishment.

His train of thought is abruptly stopped when someone approaches him, most likely a hero.
Nobody comes up to random rooftops unless they’re trying to kill themselves or patrolling to make
sure people don’t kill themselves. Their footsteps are muted, even cautious, but the wind helps to
hide any traces of them. He blinks slowly at the empty space in front of him as he attempts to not
acknowledge the person.
“What are you doing out here so late? It’s unsafe to be on the edge of a building late at night.” A
rough voice comes from behind him, almost as if he’s a child being scolded.

Dazai turns his head to find a tall man in all black with a large grey scarf around his neck. His hair
is unkept and his eyes are a harsh dark colour that feels like they’re staring right through Dazai.
And he’s told his eyes are intense.

“You haven’t heard of living life to the fullest?” Dazai cocks his head at the man. “I’m just out for
a thrilling stroll.”

Observing the man, he is struck with the realisation he recognises him. His hero name is
Eraserhead, listed on the UA website staff list. He had previously researched all the staff just in
case one had a particularly troublesome power. To prevent Eraserhead from uncovering anything
he isn’t supposed to know, the conversation has to end. Fast. He drops the cigarette to the ground
and rubs his thumb into it to put it out.

“Kids don’t just sit on the edge of a building for fun. You seem troubled.” Eraserhead points out
(Invalidly, because he does do it for fun. And for the thrill of it.) His eyes trail slightly smoking
crushed cigarette and to his burnt thumb. “Smoking is bad for your lungs, it’s irrational to hurt
yourself over time with harmful chemicals.”

“You only live once, and I’m spending my brief life with black lungs. Besides, you’re the only
thing troubling me.” Dazai whines. “If I have to spend another second with you… I might have to
throw myself off this building. ”

He prays that the man doesn’t recognise him from the exams. Or worse, figures out who he is
when he goes to UA because of this conversation. He’s never been happier for the darkness acting
as a shield right now. His face is also hard to place… because of the bandages over it. He can’t
wear them to school anyways, it would be too alarming for the teachers to see them. Even though
he’ll be wearing his other bandages, they’ll only barely peek out.

Eraserhead lays a hand on his shoulder, gripping his slightly, but not enough to actually hurt. Dazai
freezes. His eyes soften at the defensive position Dazai finds himself in and retracts his arm. Dazai
scowls. Eraserhead instead crosses both his arms as he stares down at Dazai, but hovering near him
enough for Dazai to know why.

“Let’s talk about this away from the ledge.” Aizawa coaxes, eyes trailing Dazai’s form and then to
a spot further into the roof.

Dazai glares at Eraserhead, in a way that is almost childish. His nagging sounds worse than
Chuuya’s. He’s already talked to this hero for too long. As he turns away and shifts his position to
start leaving, the hero moves into a more defensive position, ready to catch him if he escapes. It’s
much different to the open body language he displayed minutes earlier.

“I didn’t think a hero would force me to hang around him. Who knows what he’ll do to me when
there’s nobody around?” He says in a light tone, tensing up.

Eraserhead frowns at the implications. “I just want to talk to you for a few minutes. Away from the
ledge.” He gestures to the middle of the rooftop.

Dazai narrows his eyes. He slowly stands up, hands behind his back as he tries to appear neutral.
No fear or anger. If the hero keeps him there, he’ll capture him and take him for questioning.
They’ll all call him crazy and demand he be put in a mental asylum. Maybe they’ll call a shrink in
to find out what’s wrong with him. But he doesn’t need help! There’s just something that’s always
 been wrong, that can’t be fixed.

“My business is not yours, Eraserhead.” He says like a gentle reminder or a light scolding, but the
intent is clear.

He’s not a child, not one who is in need of protection. He is not a child.

Eraserhead steps back. He gets a clearer look at all the bandages covering his face and gives the
boy a look that screams sympathy. It may be understanding, but it’s obviously not real. He can’t be
understood.

Dazai hates sympathy, he isn’t just some poor unfortunate boy who couldn’t take care of himself.
He is a cold-hearted murderer, cruel misery blending in with human beings. Although he does not
glorify humanity, he must be far worse. And that is a proud statement. Humans are dirty, but not as
filthy as him.

“Are you being abused? Or a runaway? Talk to me, why are you up here?” It is left unsaid why
people come up to places like these, but he’s thinking it. They’re both thinking it.

Eraserhead’s eyes scream kindness and despite his rough-looking exterior, Dazai can tell he meant
it. But Dazai did not need such kindness. He looks at Aizawa eye’s again, wide and curious like a
young child. He was wrong. Their gazes are nothing alike.

“How do you know I’m not a villain?” He questions the man, who looks slightly taken aback. It’s
barely noticeable though. Dazai can just read people like they’re picture books. “Tsk, heroes
should know better than to assume things just because I’m younger. You’re not that great of a hero
after all.”

Dazai unlocks his pistol and points it at Eraserhead. His eyes are as cruel as he always is, cold and
hollow. The hero backs away slowly, looking cautiously at him. Dazai steps forward in a chase.

Eraserhead thinks Dazai is bluffing. No, it may not be that. He doesn’t want to believe that a young
boy like him could shoot a man. The hero is still tense and on guard, regardless of the fact that he’s
not an adult. He doesn’t plan to kill the hero if Eraserhead leaves him alone, but either way, the
man isn’t going to just leave like this.

So with a quick decision, Dazai pulls the trigger and the hero jerks to the left. Dazai had already
figured out that he would favour his left side due to his posture. Most likely a byproduct of an old
injury, so he aimed slightly to the right. Killing him would cause UA to go on high alert.

As Eraserhead gets up from the abrupt dodging movement, he flings his scarf weapon out toward
Dazai. He feels it nip at his heels and back as the wind bows to the weapon and aids it. Still, Dazai
runs. Runs carelessly and dangerously in ways Eraserhead wouldn’t dare. Runs as fast as he can in
the shadows, and sprints to the dingy apartment he is going to be calling home for the next while.
The wind feels like it’s pushing him back to the rooftop, but he still makes it. He’s always been
good at running, after all. He’s been running away for years.

As he opens the door to his apartment, a thought crosses his mind: After all that, he forgot to buy
the whiskey.

Chapter End Notes

sorry this chapter is so short...
 What classifies a normal teenager?
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Dazai finds himself on the couch typing away on his computer. There is a certain boredom that is
felt at the back of his mind consistently, like being an adult who is given toys, which leaves him in
a constant state of vague unrest and unsettlement.

Considering his outing had been a failure, he’s left with time on his hands until the sun rises. Dazai
decides to research the hero he encountered just a few hours before. Double-checking the website,
there is no mistake about who he just met. There’s no other information on him there but there are
a few pictures circulating the internet. Dazai decides to watch them just in case he has to fight the
man someday.

He concludes that whenever he goes out for business at night he has to make sure he isn’t easily
recognizable. A moustache, perhaps? Maybe he’ll just stop doing illegal things. Nah.

His feet are cold, so he brings his legs up to sit cross-legged in a feeble attempt to warm them up.
The laptop is warming his cold clothes. Sometimes he has to question if he’s even living by his
gauzy hands and still eyes. He wonders if he’s slowly fading away, transforming into a speck of
dust by the minute until he multiplies and there is nothing but that heavy black coat and bloody
bandages left as a reminder. Would someone ever be able to put him back together one day?

The lights turn on in the living room and a tired-looking Chuuya meanders out toward Dazai. His
hair is frizzed up and he has a mark on one side of his face from where it was pressed into
something. It’s amusing that this same Nakahara Chuuya is housing a God of wrath. With how
unalert the boy is acting, Dazai could kill him. What if he could pick up the pieces of Dazai? He
doesn’t want to begin to entertain such a hopeful future.

“What are you doing up already… It's five in the morning. Wait.. have you been out?” Chuuya
groans as he squints his eyes at the back of Dazai’s head.

“Chuuuyyyya! I’m busy working hard here, can’t you see? How did the recruitment go?” He turns
to Chuuya as the shorter one of the two sits next to Dazai. He can pretend there is happiness
between them for a little while.

“It was fine. I barged into their dingy bar and yelled at them to recruit me. Acted like I hated
heroes and told them my ‘oh so tragic backstory’. Excluding the mafia bits, obviously. The leader,
Shigaraki, seemed super sceptical to have me, but in the end, he talked to his boss and his boss told
him to recruit me…”

“So there is a higher power in the playing after all... Does the port mafia have any theories on who
is pulling the strings for this ‘league of villains’?” He inquires, closing his laptop and letting his
fingers dance on the lid of it.

Chuuya sighs as he leans his forehead into his palm, his eyes creasing at the pressure. Dazai leans
forward to poke his hair, then leans towards him so that they’re leaning against each other. Chuuya
doesn’t protest.

“There’s a few people speculated to be the leader, but Mori seems to think it is the villain who
went missing years ago named ‘All for one.’”
“All… for One?” It’s almost as if his heart is frozen in time. So delicate that a single gust of wind
would knock it over and shatter it into far too many pieces.

He is known to be a powerful villain who has the ability to steal others' quirks, but Chuuya isn’t
worried. He technically doesn’t have a quirk… Arahabaki is a god. Dazai would not be in any
trouble either considering he can nullify any quirk, therefore immune.

Yokohama in itself is majorly quirkless, as it is one of the few cities that is closed off from the
world and has strict travel policies. Most cities had opened themselves up to the world of quirks
and superpowers, but Yokohama is a city that rejected those ways. In Yokohama, life is far
different there than it is in hero-heavy places like Musutafu. The lives of people with supernatural
abilities are far, far crueller than the ones without. There is a clear division between these people,
as people with abilities are often involved with criminal activities or the law.

In Yokohama, their ‘quirks’ are mostly called abilities. These powers have never been associated
with the word quirks, although they may be the same thing. Abilities usually manifest almost
randomly in Yokohama due to the lack of them, but often they have fewer limitations than quirks
and are more powerful.

“Do you want me to make breakfast?” Chuuya asks, noticing Dazai’s sullied mood. His fingers
flutter over Dazai’s arm for a second in a moment of weakness for the both of them.

“My my! How loving, my dear Chuuya is going to cook my breakfast!” Dazai jumps up in an
attempt to break any sort of connection they’ll ever have.

He’s always like that. Chuuya snarls at Dazai as he kicks him in the shins. Dazai clutches the limb
in agony as he rolls to the floor, complaining about the evils of the world.

“Maybe you’ll choke on the food I make and you'll die.”

Dazai shrieks in glee at the statement. As Chuuya scrounges the kitchen for anything edible, he
notes that he has to buy more food. There are only a few things in the fridge, so he makes simple
scrambled eggs for the two of them. It’s not like either of them care for fancy meals. Chuuya grew
up eating whatever he could and Dazai grew up not eating.

“Can you come shopping with me today? We’ll need to buy quite a bit to sustain us for a while.”
He comments as he slides the food onto two plates, bringing them over to their dining table.

“Gahhh Chuuya! How could you force me to do such labour?” Dazai whines but eventually agrees
after a few violent remarks from Chuuya.

They eat their breakfast in somewhat silence, with only a few rude remarks to each other.
Improvement, already. Usually, something is broken by now. Both are deep in thought about their
own work. Dazai still kicks at Chuuya’s legs under the table a few times, though.

“Chuuya! I know we love our respective types of liquor, but have given a thought to how we’ll
obtain it here in Musutafu?” Dazai says while smiling full of mischief.

The two find themself washing up the meagre amount of dishes together, neither wanting to do
more work than the other. Chuuya scrubs them and Dazai dries and puts them away. That’s their
usual way of tackling dishes. Or Dazai bribes the redhead to do it.

“I’m sure you have a way, knowing your tricks..” Chuuya grumbles and turns off the sink. “Get
me some expensive french wine when you get yourself something.”
“Ouch! No ‘please’ or ‘thank you’! Does Chuuya have any manners? What a barbarian!” He
whines, using the fork in his hand as a makeshift sword. “I’ll restore honour to our household.”

“You’re like a cow that never stops mooing. Just help with the groceries and then you can go off
and do whatever suspicious things you like to do.” Chuuya shoves past Dazai while the taller one
of the two just stands by with an amused look on his face.

A fairly large mall lies near their apartment, so the two take the opportunity to visit to get their
groceries for the week. Dazai makes sure to annoy Chuuya by adding an insane amount of crab-
themed foods, and over twenty cans of canned crab to their shared basket.

Chuuya argues that they don't need all of it, but Dazai pleads and insists he needs all of the crab-
themed foods. Chuuya eventually caves in after almost getting kicked out of the supermarket
because of their bickering.

The two walk over to the checkout with their two trollies’ worth of food and check out without a
problem. The lady at the counter almost drops the item of food she is holding when she notices
Dazai pull out a black card.

“Did Mori give you that card for our mission?” Chuuya inquires as they make their way out of the
supermarket.

“Yup! I can’t wait to waste all of his money~ Hey Chibi, let’s go to an amusement park today!!”
He says excitedly, slinging his arm around the other making cheering actions.

“I’m going to rip your vocal cords out if you call me that one more time….” Chuuya warns angrily,
pulling out his fist. “Why do you want to go to an amusement park anyways..?”

His sneaky grin only widens, pulling Chuuya’s head close to his and skipping along.

“Why not! We can spend money on super expensive prizes there!”

After a lot of persuasion from Dazai, Chuuya eventually agrees. They arrive at their apartment a
few minutes later, and Dazai stops in the middle of putting away the groceries. His hands hover
over the new carton of eggs that he’s supposed to put away.

“Hey, chuuya?”

“What is it?” Chuuya asks irritably, expecting some nasty remark from Dazai.

“Don’t you want to feel normal while we’re here?” He says something sincerely, raising his head
to meet the other’s eyes.

“Er... I mean…” Chuuya shifts his eyes to the side to avoid the intense state of Dazai, unsure what
to say. “Do we even know how to be normal teenagers?”

He sighs, putting the final few groceries away. Dazai opens the apartment door and takes one more
glance at Chuuya.

“That’s what I was afraid of.” He murmurs.

Dazai makes his way to the smoke shop somewhat hurriedly. He needs to top up on his cigarettes
here. Dazai’s fake id is top notch, he knows where to look and has the money to afford it… well,
Mori’s money.
He chucks three packs on the counter while eyeing the other products placed next to the counter.
Chuuya likes that brand of chocolate. With only a few contemplating seconds, he takes a pack of
them. Would Chuuya like two? Just in case, he picks up another.

The cashier gives him an obligatory smile, scanning each item with disinterest. Dazai takes out
some cash from his pocket. He doesn’t want Mori to get on his tail about smoking again, the
doctor doesn’t actually care about his well-being, he just doesn’t want his precious little servant to
die from lung disease. Grabbing his change, he leaves the store.

Dazai heads to the second stop on his agenda, the liquor store. He browses the wine section,
looking for the most expensive thing on the racks. It isn’t his personal money he is using, after all.
He finds a bottle of expensive-looking french red wine. He takes it without a second thought and
dumps a few other pricey bottles in his shopping cart. Now comes the fun part.

Dazai finds himself in the spirits section, searching for a few bottles of good-looking whiskey. A
brand made in Ireland looks promising, he inspects the label. High alcohol percentage too. He puts
one bottle of that and another cheaper whiskey, as well as a bottle of gin. Maybe he can try out
bartending if he decides to quit the mafia: a foolish thought, but one to entertain nonetheless.

Dazai arrives at his final stop, the first aid store. He just needs a few more bandages considering
he… covers the majority of his body with them. Dazai tosses a bunch of rolls into his arms and
carries them to the checkout. One almost falls out, but he catches it in the crook of his elbow. He
gets a few strange looks, but nothing he isn’t used to. He seems to attract attention wherever he is.

Dazai feeds off attention, it makes him feel alive. His eccentrics are all for attention. Bad or good,
he is there. People will remember him. They will think about him. He will exist in someone else’s
mind, instead of being forgotten about and left with endless souls he has murdered.

Dazai returns to Chuuya and his shared apartment, taking in the scenery around him. It is still early
in the morning, around ten. He dumps most of the alcohol in the kitchen and brings the rest of his
supplies to his room, leaving them to pile up next to his suitcase in the corner of his room.

“Chuuya~ Are you ready to leave? Aren’t you excited to spend the whooolle day with your
bestie?” Dazai hollers as he leans his head out of his doorway. Chuuya is standing outside his door,
foot tapping impatiently with that permanent scowl on his face.

“Shut up, you’re too loud. Don’t make me regret agreeing to this, I swear…”

Dazai laughs gleefully as he snatches Chuuya’s wrist and tugs him out the apartment door. Chuuya
tries to protest but Dazai holds a firm grip on him, rushing down the stairs in their building. They
set off on their journey.

“Um… I think we’re lost.” Chuuya comments unhelpfully, glancing around once again.

They stand under a tiny bus stop… in the middle of nowhere. Quite literally, there is nothing
around them except the bus stop and a long road stretching farther than the eye.

“What! Chuuya must be crazy, my genius doesn’t fail me! It must be the world plotting against me,
trying to mess up my handsomeness with all this dust in the air!” He defends himself bashfully and
leans on the structure of the small bus shelter. His eyes bore into Chuuya’s own, eyebrow raised.

“You’re just an idiotic mackerel. Good for nothing…”

Dazai steps back dramatically, clutching his heart. His fast movements kick even more dust up and
Chuuya retreats in order to stop inhaling it. He’s not fast enough obviously, the coughs coming
 from him giving it away.

“How could you say that to me?! Why would you compare me to a slimy creature like a fish? You
always call me mackerel!” Dazai pouts

“Your eyes.”

“Hm? What about them Chibi? Are they too charming for you~?” Dazai teases.

“No, they just look dead, just like a mackerel’s eyes.” He says bluntly. Chuuya doesn’t hold any
remorse in his words, but it feels like Dazai has just been slammed into a heavy wall. He can’t
figure out why.

“Ah…” Dazai replies, looking away. It’s such a stupid comment, he doesn't know why he’s even
upset.

The two awkwardly stand in silence for a few minutes. The few trees around them seem almost
wilted. Dazai draws circles in the gravel with his toes and creates a noose. He finds his eyes drawn
to Chuuya before quickly averting them. Chuuya fiddles with the cuffs on his sleeve, avoiding
Dazai’s gaze.

“Y’know what? Let’s catch the first bus here and go wherever that is!” Dazai points to the bus that
is steadily approaching the bus stop the two are at. He tries to ignore the lingering uncomfortable
feeling from before.

“Fuck yeah, let’s do that!” Chuuya cheers as the bus stops in front of them, eager to leave whatever
that was behind. They’ve never been good at being kind to each other.

The two boys jump on the bus, excited to see new places. They settle toward the back, planning to
get off at the next big city.

After an hour or so of the two bickering, over fifty rounds of rock-paper-scissors, and Dazai
accidentally breaking the seatbelt on the chair next to him, they are greeted with the sight of
skyscrapers and neon signs. They hurry off the bus only with their phones and wallets and set out
to explore the new city named Hosu.

Chapter End Notes

shazam! enjoy the new chapter

 Vacation in Hosu
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Dazai observes the city around him. It’s oddly plain, with some skyscrapers and greenery planted
wherever possible in between. They seem to have been dropped off towards the outskirts of the city
in a somewhat industrial area. He likes the look of the warehouses around them. The city itself is
definitely busier than Yokohama from what he can see. By how the sun is looking, it’s only around
midday. That means more time for sightseeing.

“Chuuyaaaa! I’m tired! Can we sit down?” Dazai groans, collapsing onto the nearest public bench
he can find. A shadow hovers over him threateningly.

“Already?! We just got off that damn bus and you're already complaining!” Chuuya cries out
exasperatedly. “Are you useful for anything at all?!? Do you… at least know any landmarks in the
city we can visit?”

He knows Dazai usually only says stuff to get a rise out of him, but every time Chuuya can’t help
getting furious at Dazai’s antics. It is like he exists to annoy Chuuya. A little fly on his shoulder
constantly buzzing into his ear.

“Hmmm…Nope! Hosu seems to be a completely run of the mill, average city!” Dazai says
cheerfully.

Chuuya sighs, frustrated. He’s so used to Dazai’s hidden agendas that he always assumes he’s got
something planned, but clearly, he is mistaken. He glances at the boy sitting next to him, the way
his expression relaxes when he closes his eyes and the small scars on his fingers that can be seen if
one looks too close.

Dazai is an ‘all-knowing demon prodigy’ according to the members of the port mafia. They cling
to every word he says like mindless little pawns. They’re driven by fear and respect. Wherever one
walks there are murmurs of the genius prodigy, the youngest port mafia executive, Dazai Osamu.
His cruel methods and brilliant ideas are well known. Chuuya sometimes wonders how isolated he
feels. Maybe Dazai is like him.

Chuuya knows why everyone is so terrified of Dazai, but he isn’t even that scary most of the time.
Sure he is intelligent and ruthless, but he’s also just an ass who gets off on aggravating others.

Chuuya’s first meeting with Dazai hadn't been pleasant. He honestly despised Dazai at first. Don't
get him wrong, he still definitely dislikes his partner. A lot. But… there are those moments when
they get along so perfectly that it makes Chuuya wonder why he hates Dazai so much. It would
work out so well until Dazai makes some stupid comment and it then reminds Chuuya how
infuriating Dazai is to be around. It’s just this never-ending frustrated feeling associated with him.
No, they could never be alike…

Chuuya takes his phone out of his pocket and begins to research places to go nearby. If Dazai
won’t help, then he has to do it himself. He gets onto a site with the title ‘top 10 things to do in
Hosu’, but they all seem to have the reoccurring theme of heroics or just plain tourism. He feels
himself wanting to crush his phone out of anger (and maybe Dazai) as every site has similar
attractions. If it's not any of that, it’s historical landmarks and shrines. That’s more for international
tourists.
Giving up, he opens an online map and pinches his fingers around it until he finds something
remotely worth visiting. It’s perfect. It’s something Dazai will hate.

“Whatcha doing Chibi?” Dazai asks as he drapes himself over Chuuya, obscuring his view of his
phone.

Chuuya shoves him off by his head. “Since your lazy ass didn’t find anything to do, I’m doing you
a favour and choosing somewhere myself.”

“Goody!” He claps his hands condescendingly like he’s a little kid. “Where will the mighty
Chuuya decide we go today?”

“We’re going to an aquarium.” Chuuya smirks at Dazai, sure that he will hate the option he chose.

Predictably, Dazai rears himself ready to complain. He drags his fingers down his face and pulls at
the skin as he frowns like an ugly clown trying to appease a group of kids. Or like someone trying
to fool everyone else in the room with his laughable antics. But when examined, it’s only an act
meant to please. Clowns are stupid and not even funny. Dazai confuses Chuuya sometimes.

“Chu Chu Chuuya! Why would you pain me with a trip to a place as bland as an aquarium? You’re
going to make me die of boredom there!” He whines. “Don’t you know how terrible they are? I
hear they cut up gingers and feed them to the sharks…”

Chuuya huffs and catches Dazai’s arm harshly as he searches for directions. According to his
phone, its supposed to be a short walk. He drags the bandaged man behind him without sparing a
single look back. Dazai is only going to complain regardless of where they end up. Chuuya is at
least going to enjoy this trip.

As they continue to hurry through the crowded streets, Chuuya can’t help but admire the
architecture and design of this unknown city. Yokohama is ‘underdeveloped’ in the eyes of the
world. It is a city that stays true to its origins, like a vintage photograph. Seeing a world so modern
is almost scary for someone like Chuuya, who has lived his whole life in Yokohama. The vast
difference in the number of supernatural abilities here is shocking to him as well.

“Hey dumb faced mackerel, is this your first time out of Yokohama?” Chuuya doesn’t spare him a
look as they turn a corner

“Nope! Unlike you, I am full of experiences and knowledge about places out of Yokohama~ I’m
like a super-expert!” Dazai boasts (too proudly).

Chuuya knows he shouldn’t have expected a simple ‘yes’ to the answer to his question. The two
stop outside a building. It has grand glass doors and advertisements for the aquarium attractions
posted up everywhere. It almost looks like it’s about to go out of business from the weak attempt at
attracting attention. Maybe people wish fish quirks don't like fish being trapped in class tanks…

Chuuya steps into the building and walks up to the desk that sells entry tickets. The inside has a
dark blue theme with painted bubbles and seaweed onto the wall. He feels way too old for this. The
line is surprisingly short, for someplace this nice. He guesses people don’t come to Hosu for the
sea life, then.

Chuuya demands for the other to pay and Dazai throws Mori’s card to him effortlessly. He pays
for two tickets for them and drags Dazai to the first exhibition. Since he made such a big fuss
about going in the first place, he would probably end up doing something stupid like sitting at the
door.
“Eek! Look at all the scary looking fish here!! Chuuyaaaa, come save me!!” Dazai whines, clinging
onto Chuuya.

Others around them give the two weird stares. He shoves Dazai off him and marches away to a
tank with ugly looking faded blue fish.

“Hey Dazai, I found your siblings! They’re as ugly as you are.” Chuuya sniggers childishly.

“How could you compare me to those… those fish! I am a divine beauty blessed by the heavens, I
cannot believe you’d compare me to a… to a…” He pauses. “Mackerel!”

“Yeah, yeah, total divine beauty…”

Chuuya doesn’t love sea life, but it is interesting to learn about it since he can’t remember ever
going to school. He must have… sometime ago though. He’s not stupid though, he took the time to
learn whatever he could when he was with the Sheep, and continued to follow that pattern in the
Port Mafia. Kouyou is always happy to indulge him too when he asks her to teach him something.
Unlike Dazai, he isn’t a natural-born genius freak, and Chuuya does love a challenge. So any
information he can obtain, he will.

A small tank off to the side catches his attention. They are small fish, but a deep blue that is
breathtaking. The fish have streaks of red painted onto their scales and their body flows like satin.
A presence behind him catches him off guard, the persons manicured fingertips pressing into the
glass on the tank.

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they? These are my favourite species in this particular aquarium.” A
velvety voice speaks.

Chuuya spins around to meet a woman with deep navy hair that falls all the way down to her lower
back.

“They’re alright, I guess. I’m not interested in a specific type of fish. Are you a local? You’d have
to come here a lot to have a favourite…” Chuuya inquires, almost excited to converse with
someone other than Dazai. He does enjoy conversing with people and being generally social,
contrary to popular belief. He guesses he can get a bit standoffish though…

“Oddly enough, I live all the way back in Musutafu! But I come up to babysit my nieces regularly
so I always make sure to check this place out when I visit! I’ve always had a fixation on sea life,
and used to come here with my girlfriend. Her eyes were a similar colour to these exact species.”
She doesn’t look remotely sad about it, but that’s the type of person she seems to be. Strong-willed
and confident. Her gaze narrows onto his face. “Actually, you have lovely coloured eyes too! Are
you Japanese?”

“Erm.. I don’t know… Probably.. Maybe french too..?” Chuuya answers awkwardly. His
childhood is always a sore spot for him.

The lady takes the wobbly answer in stride. “French aye? France is popular with the ladies, I here.”
She says mischievously, glancing at her phone. “Wow! Look at the time, I have to get back to
Musutafu soon! I gotta attend a meeting for my job… my two friends will kill me if I miss the
preparations for the new school year. More specifically, the no-fun one who sleeps around all
day… Who even brings a sleeping bag to class with them??”

The mysterious lady waves goodbye to him as she heads for the exit, heels clacking against the
hard floor with each step. Chuuya feels someone jump onto his back and he suppresses a groan. So
much for enjoying himself.

“Chuuya!!! I had to navigate my way around because you left me! How cruel, how cruel can you
be Chibi!” Dazai whines loudly, causing people to look their way yet again.

The lady who had been talking to him chuckles slightly before exiting. Chuuya lets out a frustrated
sigh, telling Dazai to stay put on one of the seats in the lobby if he doesn’t want to see the sea life.
Surprisingly, Dazai agrees and Chuuya lets out a sigh of relief as he explores the rest of the
aquarium undisturbed. He’s more interested in the facts written next to the tanks than the actual
fish, but whatever.

Dazai is bored. His eyes roam the room for anything remotely exciting, but there isn’t even a gift
shop he can browse. Actually, there probably is somewhere farther in. But then he’d have to walk
past the tanks. No thank you… He definitely does hate aquariums, that isn’t a lie. Fish are so
creepy, their little beady eyes. Funny how Chuuya compares him to them because of that…

“Oi bastard, I’m hungry. Is there anywhere to eat around here?” Chuuya declares while
approaching Dazai, hands shoved into his pockets.

“Oh my, have you finally finished staring at creepy animals? Well well, I knew Chibi would be
hungry, and because I’m so generous, I researched places to eat beforehand! You should really
thank me for being the most wonderful partner ever!”

“God, you make it sound like we’re a couple. Don’t refer to me as your partner again.” Chuuya has
the audacity to gag, when Dazai should be the one disgusted.

“My heart! I can feel it shattering into tiny fragile shards!” Dazai cries, clutching onto Chuuya
dramatically.

The two bicker back and forth as they travel to the restaurant of Dazai’s choice. The more they
walk, the fancier the scenery around them changes. As they stop in front of a building that looks
like one has to be filthy rich to even walk past, Chuuya suddenly gets a very bad feeling.

“Dazai… please don’t tell me this is where we’re eating.” His head slowly turns to a smug looking
Dazai.

He only giggles as he tugs Chuuya inside.

The building is massive, taller than the surrounding buildings. There are intricate chandeliers, gold
accessories, and fancy-looking people. In Dazai and Chuuya’s case, fancy-looking people glaring
at them.

“What the fuck are they staring at? Snobby rich people suck.” Chuuya grumbles as they take a
seat.

The two are not in attire that would be considered proper for this restaurant. Just to spite the
onlookers, Chuuya waves the waiter to their table and orders the most expensive thing on the
menu. If he ordered it a bit too loud, well, nobody was going to call him out for it.

Dazai scrunches up his nose when he hears Chuuya order a fish dish. Don’t get him wrong, he
loves crab. But crab only. Every other seafood tastes like the equivalent of cat food. He takes his
time looking over the menu, while the waiter hovers over him expectantly. There are many
options, but what he is looking for is crab, obviously. His face brightens up when he finds the crab
options. There is even a crab dish that looked far too complicated for crab. He orders it anyway,
because why not? He doesn’t have to eat it if he didn’t want to.
The two chat about the differences between Yokohama and the rest of Japan as they wait for their
food. Chuuya finds the vast amount of people with supernatural abilities shocking. There are so
many laws about them too. He tries to imagine not being able to use his ability in public without a
license! Since the information about abilities isn’t totally public, he can technically use it whenever
he wants. Usually, Chuuya sticks to not using his ability in public though, and that was common
among ability users. It makes it easier to keep the worlds of supernatural and natural apart, as they
should stay.

The waiter places the duo’s food down on their table and Chuuya swears he feels his mouth
watering. Surely if something is expensive, it will be good right? That is usually the case with
wine. But food doesn’t age like wine does either. Chuuya starts to have doubts.

He has no idea what he’s eating, but it sure is good. He eagerly consumes his meal, finishing
quickly. His knife and fork scrape loudly in a probably ill-mannered way, but he is just so starving.
He’s considering investing in high end restaurants more often. Kouyou would like a dinner like
this! In contrast, Dazai has barely started on his.

“Chuuyaaa… Canned crab is better than this!” Dazai complains sorrowfully.

“Just eat it, you spoiled bastard! You can have canned crab tomorrow, this is probably the only
nutrient-rich meal you’ll have in a while.”

“Ugh… fine! If you insist my dear Chuuya! So caring, so sweet!” The bandaged boy joyously calls
out to Chuuya.

“Gross.”

Chuuya watches as Dazai eats half of his meal, satisfied enough to ask Dazai if he wants to go.
Dazai jumps up, eager to get to a hotel and drink.

Sometimes he feels the world revolves around drinking. He is always thinking about alcohol like it
is a temporary escape from his life. It isn’t uncommon for mafia members to be alcoholics, it’s a
stressful job many are forced into. Even Chuuya is slowly descending into the reliance on wine.
Even dear Chuuya, the boy who is far too good to be on the side of evil. But things eventually
become stained and tainted, and it’s time to let that image of purity go.

The waiter is mildly shocked that they can pay for their meal. It’s an odd sentiment, why would
they eat there if they couldn’t afford to pay to eat there? Maybe he thought they would try to dine
and ditch. Honestly, if it wasn’t Mori’s money he may have. Actually, he wouldn’t have come here
if he wasn’t trying to waste Mori’s money.

Dazai picks out a hotel for them not too far away. It is nice, expensive but not crazily. They walk
there in relative silence. Dazai flashes his fake id, ‘proving’ he is old enough to rent a hotel room
and they hastily find their room on the third floor. The theme of it is deep red and gold. Too
colourful for his taste, but he can appreciate the design choices.

“Thank god there are two beds, I would actually throw you out the window if there weren’t.”
Chuuya remarks as he sets his measly amount of belongings on his bed.

The two separate to do their own things, letting the night fall upon them. As soon as Chuuya enters
the shower, Dazai gets up for a cigarette. He blows the smoke out an open window, staring at the
street below him. They look so small, but still so different to the view of a building in Yokohama.
Absurd hair, mutations, missing limbs, extra limbs. None of those things really find themselves in
Yokohama. Everyone tries to keep to themselves and blend in. Even people with powers don’t
 show them off in fear of getting caught up with things that they cannot handle.

The familiarity of the tobacco allows him to calm down. He’s about to take another drag when he
feels his phone ring in his pocket. With a dejected sigh, Dazai reaches into his pocket to check the
caller id.

What could Mori want right now?

Chapter End Notes

HI HELLO omg i did not realise i hadnt updated in forever so heres a chapter sorry for
taking so long to update!! and yeah, i know dazai hasnt even entered ua yet, but he will
soon!! enjoy the chapter, ill try to update again soon!!
 Unexpected situations
Chapter Notes

trigger warning for attempting S/A!

It's brief and doesn't have really anything sexual happening, but its mentioned. There
are also implied pedophilic actions (but no s/a, just general creepiness)!!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

“Hello, Dazai.” Mori’s voice says, cool and collected as usual. “You’ve been dearly missed by
both Elise and myself. The Port Mafia isn’t the same without you.” Dazai shivers at the eerie voice
coming from his phone.

“What can I do for you this evening, Mori?” He says, taking a drag as he watches the puffs of
smoke drift up into the atmosphere.

Mori’s sudden appearance is too unexpected. Maybe he had secretly imbued a tracker into his
phone? He should have taken apart his phone to check earlier. Mori is so governing towards Dazai,
as if he’s his dog. But it had always been like that, hadn’t it? Even before the Mafia, he’s been
wrapped around Mori’s finger.

“I see you’ve taken a bit of a vacation! He says, false cheer evident in his tone, “Glad to see you’re
having fun, but now that you’re here I have an assignment for you.”

--------------------------

He hates to admit it, but this has been the most fun Chuuya’s had in a long time. There isn’t much
time to take breaks in the mafia, and he had been sent on lots of small assignments to ‘prove his
trust’ or something as of late. He assumes it is just to keep him from planning an escape, but what
if there is another reason? Is there more to this task he and Dazai have been assigned? Infiltrate the
most famous hero school in Japan and a growing villain organisation. Surely Mori wouldn’t send
his right hand man and a literal vessel for a god. No, something else was brewing. Maybe Dazai
knows something, but god, he would never tell Chuuya what he’s thinking.

Chuuya blow-dries his hair, making sure to style it as he usually does. It’ll look better when it’s
grown out more, he thinks. Petty things like appearance never used to cross Chuuya’s mind back in
the Sheep, but he’s not fighting for his life all the time now. Presentation is important to the Port
Mafia and Mori. Finishing up, he walks out to see Dazai hanging up the phone.

“Guess what Chuuya!” Dazai says, turning to face the ginger, “Mori’s assigned us a little vaguely
important task to do. Yippie!” Throwing jazz hands, he continues to talk. “He knew we were here,
so I assume there's a tracker on one of our phones. I’ll take a look at both of our phones for us
tomorrow, but change into your work clothes right now!!”

Dazai throws his half-smoked cigarette out the window, irritation filtering across his face despite
the sickly cheery tone that Chuuya is used to hearing when the conversation is about a certain boss.
He hasn’t changed out of that formal attire he always seems to don like a second skin.
Chuuya quickly changes (again), sliding his gun into the pocket of his coat. Dazai huffs at his
phone, before signalling to Chuuya.

“Chuuya… I’m a bit concerned about you..” Dazai warns in a somber tone that causes Chuuya to
turn around and stop what he’s doing.

“Huh?!”

“Well… You’re taking so long to get ready, I’ve started to theorise that you’re turning into an
actual little slug. Omg, is there goo coming out of your shoes?!?! I knew it!” He slaps the palms of
his hands into his face and opens his mouth into an ‘o’.

“How do you even come up with this shit!?!?” Chuuya shrieks. Dazai must be an alien sent to
slowly torture him… “Shut your trap, Dazai. It’s way too late to listen to your voice.”

They exit the hotel, briefly nodding to the staff at the front desk. It may be a bit suspicious for two
teenagers to walk out into the dead of the night, but they’d be leaving Hosu before anyone could do
anything about it. Even at night, Hosu’s activities prevail. Chuuya’s pretty sure Musutafu’s
nightlife is much livelier than Hosu, but even that can’t compare to places like Shibuya (So he’s
heard… He’ll have to check it out).

“Oi bastard, are you going to tell me why we’re out at ass o’clock?” Chuuya groans, glaring at the
idiot beside him.

They’ve been walking for at least ten minutes, passing many bars that he could have definitely
stopped at. Fuck, anything is more exciting than hanging out with Dazai. As they travel closer to
their destination, the area becomes much more industrial.

“Hmm…” Dazai sniggers, “Since you asked me so nicely, I guess I could tell you… There are
people planning to attack a Port Mafia owned warehouse here in Hosu. How convenient we
happened to be here...”

Only Dazai knows the destination, checking his phone every few minutes or so. Their bickering
contrasts with the dead silence in the streets. Streetlights seem to blink at them as they pass under
them,

“Ughh… are we almost there?” Chuuya complains like a child on a long car ride.

“Tsk tsk Chibi, be patient!” He tuts with his fingers. “We’ll be there soon~”

Chuuya sighs, internally admitting defeat. Dazai won’t tell him anything useful anyways. He opts
to glare at the windows of each building they pass.

“Ouch! What was that for, you dumb mackerel??” Chuuya scolds as he crashes into Dazai, who
suddenly stops out of the blue.

“Tada! We’ve arrived!” He says, spreading his arms out to reveal a run down looking warehouse.

“Seriously? This is the place we got called out to??” Chuuya groans, opening the creaky doors to
reveal hundreds of boxes, filled with an assortment of goods to be transported to the Port Mafia
headquarters.

The place looks old, with cobwebs cluttering the corners of the room and between crates. Chuuya
is even sure he can spot a rat scurrying between a few packages. The room is dark with small
amounts of moonlight peeking through the windows. And dusty. Super dusty.
“Where is every-” Chuuya is interrupted by the sound of sobs distantly heard.

The two halt, slowly creeping towards the noises. Around the corner are children, around five of
them. There are shackles around each of their ankles, all chained to a point on the wall. Most of the
expression on their faces could be described as utter defeat. No one is trying to escape anymore, as
they’ve completely given up on their future. Chuuya can’t even mask the shocked expression that
leaks out of his stoic facade.

“What the fuck?” Chuuya spits out.

“Don’t act like clueless Chibi! It’s not like it’s a secret that one of the Port Mafia’s sources of
income has to do with trafficking.”

“I know…” He faces away from Dazai, “It’s just more shocking to see it first hand.” Chuuya
defends himself, clenching his fist.

Obviously, he knows, who didn’t? He was tricked into the mafia himself, but it was unnerving.
The poor faces of these kids, no older than ten all huddled up in a corner in rags. Chuuya knows he
is powerless in this situation. He can’t disobey his orders. He can't. Or is that an excuse because he
is afraid? He can’t look at the miserable children.

“C'mon. We don’t have all day.” Dazai shoves past Chuuya to greet the man in charge of this
warehouse. He’s typing on his phone urgently, brows furrowed at whatever is on the screen. Dazai
taps his shoulder.

“You must be Kageyama, I’m Dazai. My partner and I were informed by the boss that this
warehouse may come under a raid. To prevent this, we’re transporting our goods to another
location. You and your men wll load up the supplies into the trucks around the back of the
building, where the driver will take all of it to the drop off point. Nakahara will assist you with his
ability.” Dazai orders them around.

Everyone in the warehouse hurries to start loading up the vehicles after hearing Dazai’s name.
Chuuya complies with his orders, sending glances to the children looking at him with anticipation
in their eyes. He knows what they are hoping he will do, and he wishes he could help. Dazai had
told him he wasn’t cut out for the mafia. Chuuya denied it, obviously.

He still thinks he’s not the worst fit for it. Sure, this isn’t the life he would have hoped for but he
has a place to belong. And he’s never been that good of a person anyways. In some twisted way, he
compares it to the sheep, a group of miserable kids banded together in hopes to survive.

A large bang rocks the whole building. Chuuya flinches, running towards the entrance of the
building where the noise came from and uses his ability to clear some of the debris. Smoke clouds
his vision, rubble settling everywhere. He pulls a hand up to his eyes in an attempt to shield them
and to clear his vision, but it barely helps. A few figures stand in the distance.

He is about to shout out to Dazai before a hand clamps over his mouth and he is pulled back into
the hallway he had just come through.

“They’re here. I need to get out of sight, that nice lady at the aquarium you met? She’s a hero, and
more importantly, she’s a teacher at UA high. If I’m recognised by her during the school year that's
a big problem for us. Try to just hold them back for a while, we’re almost ready to depart.” Dazai
whispers, fiddling with his gun. “I’ll work from the sidelines and aid you when I can. Take out Pro
hero Midnight first, her quirk induces sleep if you breathe in the mist produced by her quirk. No
need to kill anyone, just rough them up a bit.”
“Guh… of course, you’re leaving all the combat to me. Fucking go already!” Chuuya shoulders
Dazai as he walks towards the looming shadows of heroes.

—-------------

Dazai retreats into the dark hallways and silences his steps. Its not hard, considering the gutteral
war cries coming from behind him. He seems to be having fun. Chuuya can take care of himself,
that’s for sure. Dazai glances at the scared children as he walks by them, internally debating if he
should really do this. Mori will totally punish him, but again...

Dazai double-checks the rooms, making sure all their supplies are packed into the trucks outside.
When he confirms that is the case, he gets out his gun and points it at the nearest person in the
room. The man jerks back with his hands up.

“Get out of here and leave the children. Argue and I’ll shoot your brains out.” Dazai commands,
waving his gun around.

One guy dares to stride forward, “You can’t boss us around little man. Regardless of your rank,
we’re the ones who make the rules ‘round-.”

A shot rings through the room as he drops to the floor, brain matter painting it pink. The remaining
men gape at Dazai, some with fear and others with disgust. Even with these feelings, they all
silently tread out. Dazai sighs, kicking the dead man to the side. He turns to the room which holds
the children. Their faces fill with fright as another new face comes into their view. He counts their
heads until he realises that one is missing. Ah, that’s not good. He takes one look at their shackles
and remembers that he needs a key.

Dazai crouches over the dead man and fishes through his pockets. He’s still warm. Luckily for
Dazai, a key is sitting in there. He assumes that this guy was the boss of the place, judging by how
he reacted to being ordered around.

He crouches to the lock and swiftly undoes all their bindings. Judging by filth of it, they must have
been in here for at least a week.

“You want to get out of here? Follow anything I say.”

They clutch onto each other, some nodding and others whimpering. What pathetic kids. He wasn’t
like this at ten, and he had to deal with Mori at their ages. But… He was still ten.

Why is he doing this? Maybe, some part of him felt scared of what will happen to them. Will they
grow up like him? Perhaps this is an attempt to make up for what has been lost. No, he knows that
isn’t it. He just doesn’t care that much about anyone. When Chuuya looked at them with immense
guilt and regret, Dazai decided he would do this for Chuuya. He knows it will bother him for ages
if he does nothing. Chuuya can’t perform well with other useless things on his mind.

“Go out there, wait for the heroes to finish their fight. Yell, scream, and get their attention. I hope
you learn from this.” Dazai says as he opens a side door and shoves them out.

He jogs around the facility looking for the missing child. Just as he is about to give up, he hears a
loud cry followed by small whimpers. Dazai creeps toward the sound, aiming his gun in front of
him.

“C’mon, stop resisting! You’ll like it soon enough.” An older voice coaxes.

Dazai sprints urgently. With a lack of hesitation, he pulls the trigger on the man cornering the
shaking child. One bullet embeds itself into his head, followed by another. It's crucial to make sure
that filth like him stays dead. He knows he’s smiling, a self satisfied grin. He can pretend that it’s
someone else, with long hair and a chilling smile.

Dazai is interrupted by a small set of arms pulling him down, begging him to stop. He clears his
thought, slightly embarrassed and slightly irritated. He sighs, before crouching to look at the
sniffling child.

“If you head back through that door and keep going towards the left you’ll be free. The heroes have
come to save you.” Dazai shoves him back into the building and slams the door.

The man in front of him, memories rushing past his mind, the little crying boy who just walked
out. Dazai can feel bile rushing up his body, the sickly taste making its way out. He throws up,
clutching the side of the building he came out from. Dazai lets himself sink to the floor. Surely a
quick break won’t cause any harm?

He doesn’t want to be reminded of how creepy Mori used to act, he’d rather bury it under the
bandages that wrap around his skin. Mori didn’t even do anything to him. He didn't think it would
affect him much, but he guesses the fleeting comments and subtle touches left more of an impact.
Maybe he’s weak. Dazai bets Mori's gleeful at the idea.

Dazai stands, spitting the taste of vomit out of his mouth. He lets himself bathe in the silence for
only a few seconds, before opening his phone up. The white light of it is a large contrast to the
pitch black darkness in the area around him. The fighting seems to have ceased outside, it’s quiet.
The only thing he can hear is the occasional car in the distance.

“Hellooo Chuuya! How’s my favourite ginger doing?” Dazai chirps obnoxiously as Chuuya
answers his phone.

“Unlike your unhelpful ass, I’ve got them all down and unable to fight. Are you ready to leave? I
could go for another shower…” He can hear the exhausted tone of voice from the other. Even
Chuuya would find it hard to fight a hoard of heroes and police.

“Chibi is so needy! I’m unsure if we’re being watched, so I’ll meet you back at the hotel. Make
sure to take detours! See you later~” Dazai comments, then hangs up.

He can’t notice anyone watching him, but it is always good to be careful. Dazai walks in the
opposite direction of the entrance, toward the port. It would be nice to see some scenery if he is
going to waste his time outside. He pulls out a cigarette as he walks, silence being interrupted by
his footsteps and long exhales.

Dazai can’t wait to lie down. He continues, twisting through alleyways and dark corners. Once he
decides that his feet hurt too much to care if someone is following him, he turns back. Chuuya will
be able to deal with this hypothetical person if it turns out they are real.

The walk back to their fancy hotel is thankfully a short one. He relishes that he’s the first one back.
He gets to shower first! Dazai sighs at the warm water, even if it burns his scarred skin a bit. As he
finishes rewrapping his bandages, the sound of Chuuya slamming the door startles him.

“Oh hi Chuuya! Long time no see!” Dazai laughs at Chuuyas' irritated expression.

After observing him for a few short seconds, Dazai comes to the conclusion that the children from
the warehouse are fresh on his mind. It’s grossly predictable.

As Chuuya is about to close the bathroom door, Dazai leans in and says,
 “Oh yeah, I led those five kids outside, I assume the heroes will rescue them once they get their
shit together!”

“You WHAT? Mori is going to be so pissed at you!” Chuuya gapes at Dazai, almost dropping the
bundle of clothes in his arms.

Dazai laughs as he flops onto his bed.

Chapter End Notes

HELLO!! wow i haven't posted in forever..... ive just been pretty busy and i didnt
really know how to write this chapter. But yep, its here!!
 Orientation (or not)
Chapter Notes

tw for self harm

dazai typical suicide mentions

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Blood is enchanting, Dazai decides. His vision flees past older marks on his arm, instead, he
inspects the vermillion beads of liquid drying on his skin. It is a good luck charm to him, per se. In
an odd, hard-to-explain way. Which to anybody else must seem totally fucked up, but Dazai is
content with his situation. It is sick enjoyment to him, to see how much blood will slip out of his
flesh.

Although the deep scars etched across him stay, he is never satisfied. A greedy little boy, they used
to call him. Always wanting more.

Dazai robotically bandages himself up, like thousands of times before. It is a miracle that Chuuya
and he were granted separate bathrooms. Or else it would be quite the bother to keep his bathroom
clean. He cleans up a bit and sits on their shared couch. Chuuya, eating breakfast, fails to notice the
fact that Dazai was not in his room anymore. When he does though, he bursts into laughter at the
sight of his work partner.

“You… you have to wear THAT? Hah…hahaha! Oh my god, you look like an idiot.” Chuuya
howls, ignoring the frustrated glare Dazai sends his way from the living room couch.

“Why does Chuuya have to be such a bully? You’ll see, all the ladies will be swooning over my
stunning looks!”

“Not with those bandages they won't..”

Dazai explains to Chuuya the attractiveness of bandages. It makes him look mysterious! Sort of…

“Chibiiii! Can I have a goodbye kiss? To calm my nerves!” Dazai squeals girlishly, puckering his
lips.

“No.”

“Wow, How harsh! Can you pass me my textbooks then instead?” He asks, sprawling across the
couch, “I’m just too tired to walk over there!”

Chuuya ignores him, opting to finish his eggs on toast.

“I guess I’ll just die then.”

“Have fun with that.” Chuuya scowls. He is clearly not a morning person either.

Dazai crawls over toward his small stack of textbooks, whining the whole way there. Chuuya, in
retaliation, kicks him in the direction of the books. He stuffs them into his backpack and sulks all
the way out of their apartment building.

Dazai feels his phone buzz in his pocket.

“Mori.” He sighs, continuing his walk to school.

“Good morning Dazai, I assume you know why I’m calling you. Why did you let the children
under the Port Mafia’s control be saved by heroes?

“Hmmm…. To piss you off!”

“If you really insist, I won’t push for an actual answer. I can… move past this little incident. Think
of it as a learning experience. If I were to punish you though… Well, let's just say you’d need many
more bandages.”

“What did I ever do to deserve such a kind and caring Boss!” Dazai sarcastically thanks him.

“It’s because you’re so cute Osamu!”

Dazai hangs up the phone. Bleh, this day is going to be horrible. Just like every other day,
unfortunately.

He wonders once again why heroes are so flashy, while he looks up at the towering building of
UA. Very uninviting.

Ok, he doesn’t really have room to complain. The Port Mafia has massive skyscrapers. But at least
they are somewhat covert! Wait.. hero schools don't have to be hidden though, cause they're,
y’know, legal.

He strolls into the giant building alongside many nervous faces. It seems like he isn’t the only lost
one. The 1-A door is huge!

It is loud. Like, very loud. Filled with eager kids chatting amongst themselves. He stands in the
doorway, unsure of what to do. Is he supposed to take a random seat? Dazai just decides to sit near
the back. He blames Mori for the lack of social skills with people his own age. Chuuya is not a
good person to have a nice conversation with…

Luckily he doesn’t have to awkwardly wait for class to start, because a caterpillar (?) slides in.
Dazai watches in morbid fascination as the yellow object slithers right behind the three kids having
a conversation. For some reason, no one else seems to notice! Is this normal in Musutafu?? The
caterpillar (?) pops up to reveal… an old homeless-looking man. Dazai almost mistakes him for an
intruder, before recognising his scarf.

Eraserhead, his mind supplies him. Holy shit, that is the hero that he shot at a few weeks ago.
Luckily he decided to not wear the bandages over his eye to school, or he would most definitely be
recognised. He doesn’t seem to look at Dazai weirdly either, so he takes it as a fairly good sign.

“If you’re just here to make friends, pack up your stuff now.”

He talks! What a shocking discovery. The trio hovering over near the doorway jump in the air.

“Welcome to UA’s hero course. It took eight seconds for you to shut up, time is precious for
heroes. I’m Shota Aizawa… your teacher.”

This guy really has a flair for dramatics. He could totally become an actor with a bit of training.
The rest of the class looks at him with varying degrees of disturbance. So it isn’t normal in
Musutafu.

“Put these on,” He reaches into his sleeping bag and pulls out a sports tracksuit (Who the fuck
keeps a sports tracksuit in their sleeping back?) “and head outside.”

There is a stack of uniforms that look identical to the one he pulled out near the chalkboard,
labelled with each person’s name. Dazai can’t believe his terrible luck! On the first day, he already
has to change in the locker rooms. Students hastily sort through the uniforms at the front of the
room, chucking them in random directions. Fortunately, Dazai’s uniform is one that had been
thrown to the ground, so it is easy to retrieve.

Honestly, he sucks at directions, so Dazai ends up trailing after the green-headed kid and his little
gang of friends. Speaking of friends, Dazai is still yet to make any acquaintances.

“Wow, our teacher seems wayyy too grumpy! Do you think all hero school teachers are like that? I
might just die if that's the case.” He says, approaching a yellow-haired boy with a black streak in
his hair and a pink-skinned girl.

“I hope not, I’m already nervous about school this year. What's your name? I’m Kaminari Denki.”

“And I’m Ashido Mina! I’m pretty excited, we get to train to be actual heroes!” She
enthusiastically says.

“My name is Dazai, it's a pleasure to meet you.” He replies with a charming smile.

He watches the two of them converse, adding in a word or two every little while. Dazai jogs to the
locker rooms when they enter his field of vision. Locker rooms… are going to be a total pain with
all his bandages. Unfortunately for him, the room is almost filled up with students. Dazai selects a
locker in a corner of the locker room and prays that no one notices his bandages.

“Dude… what's with the bandages?”

Ah. It was bound to happen eventually.

“Haven’t you heard? Bandages are very stylish at the moment, it’s a fashion statement!” He jokes.

“That’s so manly!” The red-haired boy answers, looking all prideful.

“That’s bullshit.” The spiky blonde boy exclaims to himself, “Nobody wears bandages for
fashion.”

Dazai chooses to ignore the quiet conversation drifting through the locker rooms, opting to change
as quickly as he can. Man, they are ugly. Even Chuuya has better fashion than whatever these
are… and of course, since the world hates him, the sports uniforms are short-sleeved.

He joins the small crowd standing around Aizawa and waits for the rest of his new classmates to
change. Once everyone is standing outside, he starts to talk.

“We’re doing a quirk assessment test now.”

A girl interrupts, “But we’ll miss orientation!”

Others nod their head in agreement. Dazai doesn’t particularly care, either way, he just wants to go
home.
“Heroes don’t have the luxury to go to things like orientation. UA prides itself on the flexibility it
gives its teachers. You did tests like these in middle school, right? Standard fitness tests that you
weren't allowed to use your quirk in. They’re still measured without quirks nationwide. It’s not
rational”

“Bakugou, you scored first in the entrance exam. What was your best score for the softball throw
in junior high?”

Ah, Bakugou is that boy's name. He decides he should at least memorises everyone’s names and
quirks, just in case Mori needs the information.

“67 metres,” Bakugou says.

“Then try doing it with your quirk. You can do anything as long as you don’t leave that circle.”
Aizawa motions to the circle next to him.

He takes the softball and inhales deeply, before aggressively screaming ‘Die!’. The ball flies out of
sight while the rest of the class looks vaguely scared and concerned about his outburst.

“Know your limits,” Aizawa says almost bored before holding up the device and measuring the
distance of Bakugou’s throw.

“705 metres? Seriously?” Kaminari speaks, shocked.

A few voices speak up about how it looks fun, but Aizawa quickly shuts them down.

“This looks fun? You have three years to become a hero. Will you have an attitude like that
throughout the whole time?” He grins, “Alright, then whoever comes in last place in these tests
will be judged to have no potential and expelled!”

The crowd all gapes, the threat of expulsion breaking their carefree attitudes.

“Welcome to UA’s hero course!”

Dazai really hopes he doesn't get expelled. That would be awkward to explain. And he is actually
quite enjoying his time away from Mori.

“But it’s only the first day! That's unfair, even if it wasn’t the first day it’s still going too far!” The
same girl from earlier argues.

“Natural disasters, big accidents and selfish villains. Life is unfair, get over it. Heroes are there to
combat that unfairness, and if you think you can just slack off over the next few years you’ll be
fast to leave UA.”

Dazai hopes he won't have to stay at UA for the whole time. Maybe he’ll die before his mission is
over! He observes the students around him. A few of them have faces filled with determination and
others seem like they are about to wet themselves. Dazai was actually looking forward to
orientation too, to get an idea of all the facilities. He hears UA even has a private gym! Not that
he’d use it though…

He's in the second race for the 50 metre dash, against Kirishima. He wishes the red-haired boy
good luck and shoots off when the timer rings. Dazai is surprisingly fast, considering his agility is
one of his better aspects. Unlike Chuuya, he doesn’t have some crazily strong physique. His mind
is his best weapon, so why become a brute too? 5.84 seconds is what the timer reads. Kirishima
comes behind him two seconds later.
He does slightly above average for the grip test and all the remaining tests following. Since he
wouldn’t do outstanding in any of the tests, he would probably end up near the bottom. As long as
he doesn’t get last, Dazai has no care for winning childish games like these. For the final test, they
go back to the ball throw. Dazai had observed his classmates throughout the previous trials and he
has to admit they’re all very creative. Uraraka (He finally learns her name after he overheard her
introducing herself to some other random person) throws the ball to infinity, earning awe-filled
comments from her classmates.

When Dazai takes his turn, he doesn’t really know what to do. His ability is non-combative and he
has no weapons to aid him. So he just throws the ball normally, which gives him a respectable
score of 58 metres. The green-haired kid Midoriya, Dazai recalls, walks into the circle looking way
tenser than anyone here. He is also the only other person besides Dazai who hasn’t used his quirk
yet. Maybe he is quirkless?

Midoriya moves to throw the ball, and Dazai can actually feel his quirk powering up. Until it just
stops. Midoriya isn’t expecting that either, he looks down at his hand.

“I erased your quirk,” Aizawa reveals, “The entrance exam obviously wasn’t rational enough for a
kid like you to be accepted.”

“You erased my quirk? Wait… those goggles! You can erase people’s quirks just by looking at
them! You’re the eraser hero: Eraserhead!”

The class whispers to each other, trying to figure out who the man is by his hero's name.
Apparently, Eraserhead isn’t a well known name. The only reason Dazai knows about him is
because of the unlucky encounter he had with him, and that he’s vaguely heard Eraserhead
mentioned in the mafia. Something to do with underground heroes poking their noses into things
that don’t concern them.

Aizawa continues his little monologue, “You can’t control your quirk right? Are you going to
become incapacitated every time you use it and have someone else save you?”

“That's not my intention!” Midoriya stammers as Aizawa pulls him in with his capture weapon.

“With that power, you can’t be a hero.” He says and silence persists in the area as Midoriya stares
in shock and disappointment. “I’ve returned your quirk. You have two tries for the ball throw,
hurry up and get it over with.”

Midoriya just stands there, shaken and attempting to figure out a strategy He begins to throw the
ball, and Dazai once again can feel this power. When the ball shoots out of his hands, Dazai feels
something like a ‘snap!’ register by no longer human. Like a rubber band being pulled back and as
soon as he let go of the ball, the rubber band was sent flying back to where it came from.

It soars through the air and students around him look captivated by it.

Midoriya turns to Aizawa caressing his broken finger. “Aizawa-sensei, I can still move!”

Their teacher grins sort of creepily if Dazai is being honest. But everything is over and Dazai is
very curious about this quirk of Midoriya’s. One that destroys the user's body? Sounds a lot like
Arahabaki. Is he a part of the reason why Mori sent him here…?

Dazai is about to turn back to the changerooms so he can go home and have a well deserved drink
(and maybe kill himself), but a flash of yellow catches his eye. Peeking out of the side of the
building is All Might, making a relieved face.
 Just who is Midoriya Izuku?

Chapter End Notes

wow! i post again!! sorry for the inconsistent chapter updates, ill definitely try to
update a bit more regularly
 Bottled Love
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Wow, that river is divine! It’s a perfect time to commit a joyous suicide with no one to stop him!
The weather is nice even, but what if he gets sunburned during his submersion and doesn’t die?
Then he’ll be sore for days after. Hmmm… a hard choice.

School at UA is so tiring, and it is only the first day. Even worse, it is only half a day. Although he
still has much to do, now that he had a good idea of most of his classmates' quirks he should
probably study up on them. And… He had to make time to discuss with Chuuya the real reason
they have been sent on this assignment.

Well, he can do that if he survives!

Dazai swiftly jumps into the river next to him, letting the tide pull him along. It was kind of
surprising, but Dazai can’t swim so drowning is much easier for him than for normal people! As he
floats along (he was kind of half sinking but y’know…) a few people stop what they are doing in a
panic to stare at Dazai. Before he can gather too much attention, Dazai feels himself get yanked out
of the water harshly.

“What the hell are you doing bastard!” Chuuya hisses, dragging Dazai out of the water. “You’re
drawing attention to yourself! WITH your school uniform. Kill yourself when you’re in regular
clothes.”

Chuuya towes Dazai by his now soaking wet shirt to where he left his groceries.

“Excuse me sir, is the man you have with you alright? I’m a Pro Hero and I can assist you with
getting that poor young man some medical assistance.” A man with what looks like antennas walks
up to them in a hurry, obviously startled by the attention Dazai was getting.

“Move it cockroach, I have things to do. He’s fine, just a total idiot.”

“Chuuya! You’ve come to save me my knight in shining armour!” Dazai swoons as he hugs
Chuuya.

“Gross.”

The two walk away noisily.

“Why must you always interrupt my joy-filled suicides, Chuuya?” Dazai whines.

“I ask myself the same question… seriously, I was just getting groceries, how did I come across
you?”

“We’re soulmates! The universe has fated us to be together!”

Chuuya scoffs, kicking Dazai in the shin.

The two of them (Reluctantly, Chuuya) walk back to their shared apartment. Chuuya shoves Dazai
into his room and orders him to not come out until he changes. Ugh, now he actually has to do
work thanks to Chuuya saving his ass. He rewraps his soaking bandages and tugs on a pair of
comfy track pants with a white turtleneck.

“Chuuya! Since I’m alive, I have some urgent matters to discuss with you.” He says, sitting down
across from Chuuya who is on the couch.

“Great. As annoying as you are, I really need information from you. But before that, there's
something that's pretty weird about the League. Shigaraki kept referring to someone named
‘sensei’. Word around is that All For One is rising to power again. Do you think they’re
connected?” Chuuya questioned.

“All For One has to be this ‘sensei’ Shigaraki is referring to.” He comments.

Dazai remembers whispers of a man that would grant a quirk to those who asked. A powerful man
who could also take a quirk away. Dazai wondered at the time if he had the power to take abilities
too. If that were the case he could be freed from the curse that was sewn into his body.

A boy, a few years older than Dazai himself with blue hair the colour of the sky on a sunny day
and eyes red like blood. Dazai searches until his legs tremble to find the man who can take away
quirks.

Dazai stands there as All For One walks away hand in hand with that small blue-haired boy.

“Ok my turn. So there’s this kid right, he’s in my class. I could actually feel the power from his
quirk! The issue was, well it was a similar feeling to Arahabaki. I suppose he’s somehow hosting
the quirk, as it also destroys his body.” Dazai explains.

“What! Are we dealing with a god?” Chuuya asks.

Dazai shrugs. It could be, but he honestly doubts it. He has suspicions about some sort of
relationship between Midoriya and All Might. He’d have to dig into things a lot, but there is a
chance that All Might’s quirk has somehow been shared with Midoriya. They do have similar
overpowered strength, after all…

“Probably not. He’s got some sort of relation to All Might, that's for sure. Subtly mention All
Might’s power around Shigaraki and see if you can get him to spill anything! Thanks, Chibi!”
Dazai bosses Chuuya around, getting up toward his room.

The bandaged boy slinks to his room, shutting the door behind him. He writes a brief report to
Mori before shutting his lights off and lying down, staring at the ceiling. He doesn’t sleep, because
demons don't sleep.

He wakes up from his half-slumber greeted with even more darkness. It is spring, but it still feels
like winter. He rolls out of bed, facing the bottled love beside him.

Dazai pours himself a large glass. He raises the glass, cheering to the air (who he honestly wishes
are Odasaku and Ango) and chugs. The burn of whiskey is a pleasant familiarity as the heat of it
pools in his stomach. He sinks to the floor and stares at the ceiling. Dazai hates his classmates. He
hates heroes. Some part of him, a fragile young fracture, curses them for not saving him. He
wonders, if he was saved before would he of kept his humanity? Or was he never human to begin
with?

He doesn’t want to know the answer, so he lays on the freezing floor until sunlight creeps through
his windows and his cup is forgotten next to him. Dazai walks out of his room to see Chuuya there
eating breakfast much like yesterday.
“Chuuyaaa!” Dazai drapes himself over the redhead.

“Have you been drinking?” Chuuya questions, “You stink.”

Dazai just laughs, waltzing out the door. His walk to school is peaceful, and uninterrupted. He’s not
particularly early, so that's good. He doesn't want to wait in the classroom for ages, that's boring.
Everything to do in Musutafu is boring. When he opens the classroom door, all eyes are on him.

“Dazai! Are you ok? You were on the news.” Sero waves his phone in front of Dazai.

Dazai squints at the article. Hm, that really was him in a river, floating along. There are no images
of Chuuya though, which is more important. No one can know they are connected. The title of the
article reads ‘UA student almost drowns’. It’s certainly one way to make a statement.

“Hm… Yeah. Wow, I’m so popular!” Dazai giggles, holding onto the table to stable himself.

He kind of feels like throwing up.

Before anyone can question his weird not-explanation of why he almost drowned, Aizawa (his
saviour) comes in and orders everyone to sit. The students all rush to their seats, not wanting to get
on Aizawa’s bad side.

The day is actually kind of regular. Well, at least that's what Dazai assumes, considering he was
homeschooled as a child. Teachers introduce themselves and outline the curriculum for the school
year. Dazai doesn’t mind some of the heroes here, he decides. They don’t seem like horrible
people, but who is he to judge? If he has to pick though, he definitely likes Present Mic, or
Yamada-sensei as he insists they all call him. Dazai loves his cheerful mood. It is always good to
have a little bit of fun in life, right?

Yamada dismisses them all for lunch and Dazai’s classmates eagerly swarm into the halls. He
assumes that everyone's forgotten about him until black hair comes into view and he doesn’t know
if he’s happy or irritated.

“Hey Dazai, come eat lunch with us! Mina and Denki are outside the classroom waiting.” Sero
says, referencing behind him where pink and yellow reside.

Dazai can't resist, because deep down he’s a people pleaser in some twisted way and he just wants
to feel ordinary.

“So charming!” He laughs, standing up. “Lead the way, my saviour! I thought I might have had to
eat lunch alone for a second there.”

Sero smiles at him as they meet with the others. He likes the hallways of UA, they’re spacious with
lots of windows.

“So… where even is the cafeteria?” Dazai asks.

“Actually, um-”

“We have no idea!” Denki interrupts Mina.

They wander around, eventually finding it after a bit too much time searching. The smell of food is
great, and Dazai thinks he may want to have something to eat after all.

“Wow! Lunch Rush’s food looks so good!” Denki drools over the hamburger he gets served.
 Dazai hums in agreement, poking at his fries. He munches on a few, letting the others lead the
conversation. He only eats a small amount of fries before lunch ends, and he does sort of feel bad
about wasting so much food. Oh well, he’ll ask for a smaller portion next time. The group pushes
him along back to class, chatting excitedly about Hero Training. The difference between the hero
couse and the other courses is the afternoons are dedicated to doing training exercises to get ready
to be future pro heroes. Or become child soldiers, whatever floats your boat. Dazai gets to his seat
just before a certain hero arrives.

“I AM HERE! Coming through the door, like a normal person!”

“It's All Might!” Midoriya fanboys (when is ever not fanboying?) and starts to mumble something
about All Might’s costume.

Everyone stares at him like he’s a god, which seems a bit extra. Dazai looks as bored as he feels.

“Today we are doing… BATTLE TRIALS!”

Chapter End Notes

HI!! this chapter is a bit short, ive been doing a bunchhh of assignments lately but
most of them are over soo....

USJ is up next chapter!!

EDIT: OH MY GOD I FORGOT ABOUT THE BATTLE TRIALS??? USJ ARC IS

NOT NEXT....
 Limited edition wine
Chapter Summary

battle trials....

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Do these kids even have a fashion sense? Some of their costumes are so ugly, unlike his well-put-
together outfit. Dazai opted for less formal-looking clothes than he would often wear and stayed
with a less flashy theme. He did consider wearing the most atrocious hero costume he could think
of for fun, but ultimately decided he doesn’t want to stick out that much. His outfit consists of
baggy black pants paired with a dark grey tight-fitting turtleneck.

He also requested a utility belt that would be on him at all times whenever he wears his hero
costume. It’s designed to hold an array of basic tools. He has steel-toed combat boots that he
equipped with these little knives that will swing out from the sole, near his heels if he pulls the
fabric tab at the back of his ankle. He was quite impressed with the woman he paid to manufacture
it.

To top it off, he bears his signature black coat. It may be a hindrance in combat, but it will serve as
a reminder to him that he is still Mori’s, and always will be.

For equipment, he has the handy grappling gun (that is also a real gun) that will slip into his coat.
He has a switchblade hooked into his belt and next to it are 4 throwing knives, around 15
centimetres in length. Not to brag, but he is quite skilled in knife-related activities. And of course…
some hot pink star-shaped sunglasses. He doesn’t think he’ll actually wear them, but where’s the
fun in such a boring outfit?

Looking around, he notices barely any of his classmates have gear that isn’t directly related to their
quirk. Oh well, sucks to be them. He’s sure they’ll add adjustments eventually. There are still
stares directed toward him and his bandages, but they have toned down since the first day. Dazai
joins the group in front of All Might (bleh, All Might) waiting for the lesson to start.

All Might starts complementing their outfits, telling them they all look like real heroes.

“Now that you’re ready, it’s time for combat training!”

Iida interrupts All Might (Wow, Iida’s costume looks horribly stiff…), “Sir! This is the fake city
from our entrance exam. Will we be conducting urban battles?”

“Not quite. I'm going to move you two steps ahead. Most of the villain fights you see on the news
take place outside. However, statistically speaking, run-ins with the most dastardly villains take
place indoors.” The blonde hero corrects. “For this exercise, you’ll split into teams of heroes and
villains and fight two-on-two indoor battles.”

Dazai’s classmates erupt into questions, he swears he hears Bakugou say ‘How much can we hurt
the other team?’. All Might looks strained and it makes Dazai snicker a bit. Then he pulls out a
script and Dazai thinks he might actually start laughing. Is All Might even qualified to teach? How
irresponsible.

“The situation is this. The villains have hidden a nuclear missile somewhere in their hideout. The
heroes must try to foil their plans. To do that, the heroes either have to catch the villains or recover
the weapon. Likewise, the villains succeed if they protect their payload or capture the heroes.
We’ll be choosing teams by drawing lots!”

“They’re being decided so erratically?” Iida (yet again) interrupts.

Midoriya combats his question, explaining that Pros often have to team up on the spot. Thankfully,
Iida appears satisfied with Midorya’s explanation. Dazai draws his lot, picking out team C. He’s
paired with Yaoyorozu, who seems competent. Unassertive and timid. He’s eager to work with
someone who will accept his orders easily.

The whole Midoriya vs Bakugou fight is overkill. Midoriya is smart, frighteningly so. It seems that
no one around him picks up on it. Now what is interesting, is that Bakugou called Midoriya
quirkless AGAIN. So Midoriya was given a quirk recently. By All For One? Dazai contemplates
his original theory about All Might and Midoriya. It seems bizarre, but their quirks feel very
similar to the whole ‘overwhelming power’ thing. Did Mori have any idea about it?

“You can create anything right?” Dazai inquires at Yaoyorozu as they walk into the battle trial
building.

Lucky for Dazai, they get to play villains.

“Yes, if I know the molecular structure of it.”

“Lucky, that’s so versatile! Ok, what I’m thinking is we hide the bomb somewhere they wouldn't
expect… What if we made a fake wall? Do you think they’d fall for it?”

She ponders his suggestions. It is a ridiculous way to play this exercise but has the potential to
succeed.

“Well… I guess we could, but it doesn’t make it fair for the other team!” She argues.

Dazai laughs at her. “We’re supposed to play villains! Fairness doesn’t exist to them.”

She considers his argument, and in the end, relents to Dazai’s constant pestering. They only have a
few minutes to complete the wall. Dazai suggests the bottom floor because the hero team definitely
will not expect it. It is a huge gamble though, because if they see through the fake wall it will
basically be game over for Dazai and Yaoyorozu.

“C'mon let's go! We can shove the bomb in this corner.” Dazai gestures to the corner nearest to the
staircase, which they can probably pass off a wall to hold pipes or something of the like.

Yaoyorozu efficiently produces a few pieces of white cardboard, enough to form two rectangles
connecting to the walls. Dazai scrapes a bit of plaster his partner creates onto the wall that connects
to the cardboard.

“Quick, we only have a minute left until planning time is up!” Yaoyorozu ushers Dazai up the
stairs.

The plan is to protect the ‘bomb’ on the top floor, pretending that the bomb is behind a door that
the two of them will be guarding. Dazai asks Yaoyorozu to create some metal slabs, ones that
could potentially confuse someone who uses sound waves to locate an object. He isn’t sure if it
will work, but it’s worth implementing. He knows both Jirou and Kaminari’s quirks, and he feels
like they stand a pretty good chance. Unless of course, Jirou could somehow sense where the bomb
was.

Dazai assumes she will use her hearing to pinpoint where the two of them are, which in theory will
lead them to the bomb.

The two of them jog up to the top floor and formulate a plan in hushed whispers. When they are
happy with it, they assume positions to get ready for an attack.

Dazai hears Kaminari and Jirou enter the building, even floors away their steps gave them away.
Should he act weaker than he is? Maybe he should look sloppier to reenact someone without
professional training. Ok yeah, that's it. Look slightly less trained than he is, easy peasy.

Jirou and Kaminari’s shoes clank up so loud it almost makes Dazai cringe, it’s like they are
purposefully walking loudly. But with that knowledge, it is a relief that they fell for the fake wall.
Now all Dazai and Yaoyorozu has to do is not get captured. He really hopes his partner will pull
her weight.

The hero team closes in at the top floor with five minutes until the timer runs out. Kaminari opens
the door separating the two teams, only to be met by Dazai throwing two of his knives onto his
costume to pin him to a wall.

“Tada! There’s no bomb here!” Dazai sings, dancing around the two for a second.

Jirou is a larger threat to Dazai. They both can attack long-range, but Jirou’s quirk has too many
unknown factors to leave her for second place. Dazai jumps Jirou, sweeping her off her feet with a
kick. He pins her arm to the ground and with his other hand, he secures the capture tape around her
arm.

—-----------

Denki feels bad for Dazai. He is, for the lack of a better word, weird. He is wrapped in bandages
everywhere, Denki wonders if he was in an accident. Maybe some crazy villain attack! He’ll be
pretty sore after being electrocuted, it was definitely a mistake to go after Jirou before him. Does
he really think knives will hold back his electricity? Plus, he is so frail! Denki is finally in UA, and
he won’t be beaten on the first training exercise. Going to UA has been his lifelong dream, and this
is finally his opportunity to become a hero.

Imagine all the fans he’ll have, he’ll be so popular with the ladies!

As Dazai sweeps Jirou off her feet (literally) it is Denki’s time to shine.

“You shouldn’t have underestimated me, Dazai!” He boasts, letting out a stream of electricity.

“Wh… What?! How, how are you still standing?!”

—----------------

“Wh… What?! How, how are you still standing?!” Kaminari stammers, “I should have output
enough electricity to incapacitate you!”

“Hmm… That’s a shame. It seems you need a bit more training, as you can see, I'm definitely able
to move” Dazai says, wiggling his fingers before whacking Kaminari on the head with the handle
of his pocket knife. He ties the lightning user’s wrists together with capture tape. It felt good to hit
something. It is such a shame they didn’t get to appreciate the effort that went into crafting their
fake wall, though.

All Might’s announcement booms across the building with the announcement of Dazai’s win.

Finally! Yaoyorozu comes out from her hiding place, surprise covering her face at her partner's
victory. Dazai is slightly offended. Does he look weak? Actually yeah, he does. The two of them
help the opposing team get up, and Dazai checks the two of them over for injuries. As expected, no
injuries that are dangerous.

When they arrive back in the viewing room, a few of his classmates bother him about his combat
abilities, which he waves off as being self-taught.

“Now, who is the MVP of this match?”

Yaoyorzu and Iida both raise their hands. All Might signals for Iida to explain.

“It must be Dazai! He truly embraced the role of a villain and fooled the heroes with his
underhanded schemes, just like a villain would! And he singlehandedly defeated the hero team.
Dazai is obviously the superior choice for MVP!” He explains with weird choppy hand
movements.

Thanks, Iida. It’s hard being an amazing Port Mafia executive, and even harder to act like a hero
student. Maybe he should take up acting as a backup career.

“Very good, young Iida! Young Yaoyorozu, what are your thoughts?”

“I also believe Dazai is the MVP of this match, he kept a cool head throughout the exercise and
battled the hero team with skill.”

All Might laughs heartily, praising the two students for their analysis. He calls up the next two
teams for their exercise and Dazai just sits in a corner to relax. The other exercises pass by quickly,
very uninteresting for Dazai. They all appear to rely on their quirks a lot, rather than using them as
a tool. Oh well, not his problem.

At last, it is time to go home. Dazai practically skips out of school after changing out of his hero
outfit (costume is just ridiculous to say, why do they call the clothes they save people in
costumes??). He wonders what Chuuya is up to. No doubt, something more interesting than UA
high school.

Chuuya had thankfully comprised a folder of all of the League’s members, with their names,
quirks, descriptions and any additional information about each person. Funnily enough, there were
like… three members, including Chuuya. What a pathetic villain group.

Both Kurogiri and Tomura Shigaraki have no official records for their names, Dazai had checked
as soon as he got his hands on their information. He will have to check the government database for
recorded quirks similar to theirs to find out anything about their existence. Maybe records of a
name that they don't go by anymore, or possibly family members.

He’ll do that on the weekend. Right now, he is going to annoy Chuuya, because what’s more fun
than that?

“Chuuya. Chuuuuya… Chuuya! Chuuya! Chuuya!” Dazai chants his partner’s name, trying to
distract him from his work.
So far, Dazai hasn’t had to take any extra methods of sending Mori information about his
assignment because nothing has really happened. Unlike Dazai, Chuuya has to take extra
precautions while sending reports back to the mafia because he is dealing with a potential terrorist
organisation.

So instead of sending information digitally, he has to give a handwritten report to someone

undercover in the area, which will eventually make its way back to Mori. There is no telling who
was following Chuuya around.

Even Dazai has to take roundabout ways to get home to avoid suspicion from criminals. Chuuya is
planning on making a name for himself in the Musutafu underground and he can’t be associated
with Dazai. Mori has voiced some concerns about them living together because it has the potential
to be a big risk if someone finds out. The reason they are living together in the first place is so they
can discuss information from both sides without being watched, but if the stakes go up too high
they might have to cut contact.

Now, Dazai is used to infiltration missions, he has experience with a few short-term ones in the
past, but nothing of this scale. He is prepared to cut contact with Chuuya or switch to minimal
contact in the future, but he did hope that they wouldn’t have to do that.

As much as he hates Chuuya, it will be worse to be alone all the time. How boring! Well, may as
well enjoy the time they have before they have to stop going out in public together.

Dazai somehow convinces Chuuya to go out for dinner with him (after promising to buy some
limited edition wine) and they make their way out.

“Will you be wearing anything to cover up your identity when you make public appearances with
the LOV? Because Chuuya, you’re pretty noticeable. Especially with your questionable fashion
choices…” Dazai inquires in a hushed tone as they sat in the high-end Italian restaurant Chuuya
chose.

“Hah?? My fashion decisions are fucking great, it’s not like you could do any better!” Chuuya
aggressively whispers, jabbing a finger towards Dazai threateningly. “And I’m not sure about the
identity issue. I’ll probably wear a mask or something.”

“Alrighty! It’s not my fault if you get caught anyways!”

They sit in silence while Chuuya stares intently at Dazai eating. Eating, really really slowly.

“Ugh! You bastard, we do something nice and you ruin it!” Chuuya stuffs a handful of fries in
Dazai’s mouth and drags him out to pay the bill.

“But Chuuya! We can still buy wine!” Dazai pleades for Chuuya to let him go.

“Ok fine. Let’s go straight to wherever sells it.” The shorter of the pushes Dazai upright with a
sense of urgency.

“So needy…”

The wine is good. At least, good according to Chuuya. All wine basically tastes the same to Dazai,
but he’ll take Chuuya’s word when it comes to fine wine. He rocks back and forth on the rusted
swing he is sitting on.

After finding an abandoned playground, Dazai makes the decision that it will be a delightful place
to drink. Chuuya disagrees, but can’t be bothered to find another place. So here they are, probably
 a bit too intoxicated, hanging out at some random playground.

“Dazaii… Do ya’ know how to get home?” Chuuya slurs.

Dazai giggles apologetically.

By some miracle, drunk and lost, they end up passing out on their couch at five am.

Chapter End Notes

OK YEAH SORRY FOR NOT POSTING EVER i always forget to write or i write
like.... a sentence a day... BUT HERE!!!! I FINISHED A CHAPTER!!! usj arc is
actually next
 Scarf weather
Chapter Summary

the start of the USJ incident !

Chapter Notes

HOPE YOU LIKE THIS LONG CHAPTER

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Dazai wakes up with a pounding headache and blurry vision. Maybe he’ll take the day off. No,
Mori won’t like that. So with a groan, instead of sleeping the day away and nursing his hangover
he groggily makes his way to his bathroom and washes his face.

He looks over to his almost dead phone. Oh, he is most likely going to be late for school. What a
bummer. Dazai continues to pack his bag for the day while lighting a cigarette. Chuuya is still
blissfully dozing, with not a care in the world. He puts a blanket over Chuuya before he leaves the
house.

Today is cold. He likes the frigid temperatures, or maybe he just likes the clothing he can wear
during winter. Every year Dazai counts down the days until summer is over and the temperature
drops ever so slowly. Happiness fills him because the cold is arriving, but soon after despair
chases him when he thinks about the fact that summer will arrive again, and again. Dazai was
always told he was an unnatural child. When he first heard of this, he was devastated. But as time
stretches on, he becomes desensitised to the remarks. Let them stare, let them talk! He will make
sure they will never forget him. He walks into his classroom, and he is not a killer, nor prodigy or a
wealthy child.

Classes go by in a blur as if he is turning pages of a book. He’s in class, and then he’s in a hallway
that he doesn’t know instead of the cafeteria.

He’s sort of enjoying staring off into space when the alarm rings, its shrilling sound only worsens
his headache. Something about a security breach, and Dazai doesn’t care. When has he ever cared
if something was going to kill him?

He can hear panicked voices rushing around a few hallways away, and is content with his choice to
sit in this hallway. Lunch will be over soon, and he really doesn’t want to go. Maybe he should
light a cigarette. There are probably smoke detectors or cameras. Or both. That rat is a sneaky
bastard. He just doesn’t think he can keep his eyes open for another second. How come sleep only
comes in the most inconvenient times? God must hate him.

“Hello? Listener, are you there?”

Dazai’s respite from living stops, and he’s startled awake by his English teacher. Present Mic is
hovering over him, with an expression Dazai can’t place. How embarrassing, he fell asleep. He
should kill himself.

“Yamada-sensei. Hello.” He greets the blonde adult.

He doesn’t like adults. They’re selfish and only want money or sex.

Dazai is selfish too, but he’s not like them. He can’t be, he’ll be dead before he’s 18.

“Dazai, was it? Are you alright? The school day is already over.” He says, in the softest voice
Dazai has heard from an adult.

He’s an angel. Or maybe Dazai is a bit too delusional today and just can’t think straight.

And as Dazai looks, really looks in front of him, he can see the orange hues colouring him and
Yamada.

“Yes, I’m… ok.”

He looks like he’s about to say something else, and Dazai really just wants to go home but he just
can’t think of anything to say.

“Why were you sleeping out here? Were you injured by crowds during lunch? It was pretty rowdy
out there!” He prompts Dazai to explain.

“Oh no no, nothing like that. I simply had a late night, it was thoughtless of me. Thank you for
waking me up, but I must be on my way.” Dazai counters and steps away as fast as possible.

He hears Yamada call something out to him, but he pretends he doesn’t for the sake of finding
somewhere to sleep.

Somewhere to sleep ends up being the rooftop of an apartment building. It is near his building, so
he can get back easily. He just wanted to watch the sunset, but he ended up dosing off again. He
can’t resist the pretty colours of the sky and the stars that start to come into view after it that
someone like him shouldn’t have the pleasure of seeing. But Dazai has always been selfish, so he
lets himself indulge.

Dazai wonders if he will dream tonight. He often doesn’t sleep well, he thinks he only properly
sleeps when he’s had too much to drink or he’s about to die.

So he sleeps, sleeps in the hope he’ll never wake up.

—------------------

Where is he?

That’s the first question he asks himself when he wakes up on a rooftop of all places. Well, it’s not
a first for him, but it’s still a shock. What was he doing yesterday? Dazai doesn’t really remember,
something to do with alarms and sleeping and a nice voice.

School, he had school yesterday. What a terrible day.

The stars in the sky are a reminder he still has hours until class, so he heads down to the roads.
Dazai moves his head around in an attempt to cure the discomfort bordering on pain on the right
side of his neck, but it ultimately makes no difference. If he goes home now, he will probably have
a few hours of free time.
He’s about to give up finding his way home when he spots a familiar park. That’s the one that he
walks past to get to school! His apartment should be… a few blocks away. Dazai quickly makes
his way to the building and changes into some comfier clothes.

Who is the most dangerous person in UA to him? Aizawa would be tricky, probably the hardest to
combat in the whole school. Dazai is curious, would Yamada’s quirk be nullified by Dazai from a
distance? Would the noise from the soundwaves just not be heard by him, but by everyone else? Or
would he not cancel it out until he touches him? He thinks he would have to be affected by the
quirk, because it’s just enhanced sound waves, not creating a new thing.

It is difficult to determine which abilities would affect him if they were unique. He wouldn’t be
affected by Midnight’s quirk, because his body would nullify the sleep-inducing chemicals as he
inhaled them. Maybe he can test that out sometime when they have to do hero training.

He makes a cup of instant black coffee, with two spoons of sugar. Settle the warm mug down, he
picks up the notebook with all the information he has about UA stored in it. After working with
Yaoyorozu the other day, he has come to the conclusion that she is definitely one to keep an eye
on. Paired with her extensive knowledge of molecular formulas and her versatile quirk, she would
prove difficult to fight. Especially because Dazai’s nullification would be useless as soon as she
completed the creation of the objects.

He readies himself for school yet again and heads off with his headphones on. Dazai bops his head
along to the metal music, in which he receives a few weird stares from people around him. He
doesn’t mind, opting to wrap the maroon scarf tighter around his neck. His breath turns into mini
clouds in the air. He thinks he will never be warm, his ability always gifting him an uncomfortable
chill. Like a snowman breathing down his neck.

Dazai arrives at school early, early enough that only Iida is in the classroom. Iida swiftly stands up
to greet Dazai.

“Dazai! Good morning! It gives me great pleasure to know that my fellow classmate is taking
school as seriously as I am by showing up early!”

Dazai internally snorts, at his seriousness.

“Iida! You’re admirable, but I could never be as great as that! I merely came to school early
because I did not sleep as well as I would have liked, unfortunately…”

“Well Dazai, if you’re having trouble sleeping, my brother always makes my chamomile tea before
I go to bed! It is quite sleep-inducing and really helps me get the recommended amount of rest for
the night. The bags under your eyes are quite prominent.” He says, and another voice pops into
Dazai’s world.

“Not as noticeable as Aizawa-sensei’s though! And while I was walking to class, I saw this purple-
haired kid with huge eyebags! Maybe you’re all related!” Uraraka jokes as she walks in with
Todoroki trailing behind her like a lost puppy.

Todoroki stops abruptly and stares at Dazai. Like, stares, like he discovered something
revolutionary. Dazai shrugs it off because frankly he’s dealt with weirder things. Instead of
focusing on whatever Todoroki is doing (is he mumbling now?!?), he turns back to Iida and
Uraraka.

“Whattt! My eye bags are not even that big, I can’t believe you’d compare me to Aizawa-sensei out
of all people. Jeez Uraraka, do you think I'm an old homeless man?” Dazai teases, which led the
brown-haired girl to quickly deny any claims Dazai held against her.

“Is that a cross necklace? No offence, but you don’t seem like a religious person to me.”

“Uraraka, you shouldn’t assume things like that!” Iida scolds.

Dazai waves off the two of them, opting to indulge their question. The two of them won’t read into
whatever he says. He is wearing a simple silver cross over his uniform shirt, that hangs slightly
below his chest.

“Oh, this! Well, I guess you could call me religious? I don’t go to church or anything of the sort,
but an... important person gave it to me, so I often wear it under my clothes. Guess I forgot to tuck
it under today.”

The brown-haired girl leans towards it, and Dazai steps back to avoid her touching it. She doesn’t
really take the hint so he grabs her hands and guides them upwards.

“Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?” He distracts her, holding their hands together.

She squeaks, and as Iida began to reprimand him for something to do with the hero code, Aizawa
creeps in, once again, and announces that everyone should get to their seats. It seems as the three
of them conversed, everyone else had filed in.

All chattering ceases because of how scary their teacher is. Dazai doesn’t really agree with the rest
of his classmates on that, but he does work around grown men all the time, so maybe he is used to
it.

“Good morning. As you all know, today class 1-A will be going on a field trip for specialised hero
training”

WHAT. What training? How did he miss out on this information yesterday? Whoopsies, Mori
won't be very pleased that Dazai had yet to inform him about the field trip. Maybe he can just send
him an email before he left? But that has risks. He’ll just leave it for later, what’s the worst that
could happen?

“All Might and I will be joining you, as well as the Space Hero: Thirteen. You can either wear your
hero costume or UA uniform, but make it quick.”

He dismisses the class, and they all rush to change. Dazai changes at a comfortable pace, in the
corner of the locker room. Actually, he should start changing in the bathrooms.

Iida tries to get them all to partner up for the bus ride, but Dazai ignores Iida and hangs around the
back of the line. When he gets on there aren’t many seats, but he makes due. There is an empty one
right near Aizawa and he sits leaning against the window. Some conversation is made between his
classmates, and he can’t believe some of the nerves they have talking about popularity. But that
isn’t his responsibility, so he just silently judges.

The bus stops and they all file out excitedly. Thirteen is waiting there already, and he can see how
excited some of his classmates are. Once again, he just does not care. He might have to start acting
like he wants to be a hero because that’s suspicious in the long run.

He has to admit though, it is super impressive. Thirteen explains what the place they are standing
is- “This is the Unforeseen Simulation Joint, otherwise known as the USJ!”

Aizawa and Thirteen suspiciously whisper in the corner, and Thirteen holds up three fingers. What
is that supposed to symbolise? All Might is nowhere to be seen, even though Dazai swears that
Aizawa mentioned that he would be here. It must be something about All Might, but what? What
does the number three have to do with the number one hero?

Thirteen and Aizawa finish their little suspicious chat and Thirteen stand up in front of the class.
“Before we begin, let me say one thing… or two, or three, or four… five… six… seven… I am
sure you all are aware of my quirk, black hole…”

She proceeds to talk about the dangers of quirks. It’s an interesting speech, and they’ve definitely
got a better point of view than a lot of other heroes, colour Dazai impressed.

Dazai decides to put that aside when he senses an unnerving presence. Uh oh. Electricity crackles
along the lights at the top of the dome and Dazai wishes he stayed home.

A deep purple portal blooms where a water fountain should be and one singular hand comes out,
followed by blue hair.

Blue hair, blue hair that he knows. Dazai thinks his world stops for a second, because all he can
think about is how much he wants to rip that man's throat apart. Shigaraki. But Shigaraki wasn’t
always his name, and Dazai just can't remember what All For One called him all those years ago.
But the rage is still ever so prominent, and he wants to murder Shigaraki, and maybe murder
himself.

The rest of Shigaraki’s villain group lazily walk out of the portal, Kurogiri’s portal (his mind
supplies him with), and they just keep on coming. Chuuya didn’t tell him any of this.

Chuuya didn’t tell him that that monster-looking thing with an exposed brain and fucking beak
would come out of a portal with Shigaraki. Dazai knows what's coming next, that all too familiar
red hair would come out of that portal next.

And it did.

All his classmates try to deny what was happening around them, and Dazai is sick of it.

“This is our reality, and we have to face it. Denying whatever is happening won't work, so shut up
and start using your brains!” Dazai orders, silencing his classmates.

“Did the villains only appear here, or at school too? Either way, if the sensors aren't responding,
there must be someone with a quirk that can do that. We’re isolated and the surprise attack was
carefully planned. They must have a goal.” Todoroki observes aloud.

Aizawa orders Thirteen to evacuate the students, even when Midoriya calls out that large crowds
are his weakness, he simply disregards his statement and jumps into the plaza where the lackeys
reside.

Kurogiri manifests, blocking the path out of the USJ.

“Nice to meet you, we are the League Of Villians.” He monologues about how they’ll kill All
Might and boring things like that.

Just as Thirteen is about to start fighting the mist villain, Bakugou stupidly blocks Thirteen's way.
Another person appears out of the mist, a short boy who looks around the age of his classmates.
His eyes hover over the girls a bit too long, and his eyes give away that he’s a total sleaze.

“I knew the girls at UA would be hot, but my expectations have been exceeded! I can’t wait to have
 one of you babes!” He drools and Dazai almost coils in disgust, like a few other of his classmates.

The unnamed villain throws these sticky purple balls from his head and clumps together people
from his class.

Dazai is yet to get hit by one, but before anyone can try to get them off, Kurogiri’s mist invades
Dazai’s senses for a few seconds. When the mist lifts, he is the only one left. Everyone has been
teleported to who knows where, and well… Dazai didn’t want to be singled out like that.

So he sprints down to the plaza (‘sorry Thirteen, it was either you or me.’) as fast as his legs can
take him like he is soaring down the steps.

His eyes lock with Chuuyas for the first time in days.

Chapter End Notes

OK SO I NEED HELP- I want to change the name of this fic but idkkk what to change
it to so yknow if you have any suggestions let me know

ALSO.... i posted an original short story on my account if you want to check it out....
it’s called snow touched eyelashes and it’s about 2k words long
 His name
Chapter Summary

USJ stuff..... and chuuya finally

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

The wind is whipping in Dazai’s face and he thinks this is the first time he’s felt alive in a while.
He doesn’t have his gun equipped with anything but a grapple, so he has to make do with the
knives. Dazai’s body is stinging, red painting his body. From older and new injuries alike, he can
feel it soak into his bandages. It seems as if his skin is consistently falling apart.

And god, Aizawa is pissed at Dazai for being down here. By all means, Kurogiri, warp him away!
He doesn’t want to come crime-fighting with Aizawa.

He’s closing in on Shigaraki and his little gang (plus Chuuya who is totally glaring daggers at him)
when that… thing rams into him with speed so fast that Dazai is caught off guard. It socks him
right in the gut and he swears he’s going to throw up as he’s flung into some bushes away from the
plaza. Bile comes up out of his throat as he gags continuously. God, that hurts. Aizawa yells
something to Dazai as they’re separated, but he’s already too far away to hear. Chuuya flies
towards Dazai at an alarming speed and punches him straight in the lip. He feels his lip crack, a
liquid slipping over his lips.

“Man, it felt good to punch you!” Chuuya remarks, slipping his hands into his pockets.

“You got lucky.” Dazai insists to irritate Chuuya, ”Why didn't you tell me you were planning an
attack on MY field trip? I thought we were supposed to warn each other about this sort of stuff”

“You didn’t come home! How was I supposed to inform you when you literally didn’t show up!?”

Oh yeahhhh. Dazai can admit that maybe that was his fault.

“So what’s up with that bird-brain creepy thing?” The taller of the two prompts the other to
explain.

“It was um,” He clears his throat. “A human experiment.”

Dazai can see the uncomfortableness in Chuuya’s facial expression, and it’s sort of painful to
watch.

“Ok, we’re going to destroy it then. How does it work? Judging by its abilities it has multiple
quirks, would my nullification damage it?”

Chuuya ponders Dazai’s question. He explains that he doesn’t know that much about the Nomus
(That was their name, according to Chuuya) because Shigaraki and ‘Sensei’ have been very
secretive about it. There is only one person who could have given an entity multiple quirks, so it is
confirmed at this point. All For One is working behind the scenes.
“There’s a chance your ability will stop the Nomu entirely. Since its capacity for quirks has
increased for the exchange of intelligence, the quirks may make up most of its brain. Your ability
could essentially make it brain dead.”

“Wow Chuuya, you’re so smart! Maybe the League Of Villains has knocked some brains into
you.”

Chuuya responds very sensibly. By grabbing Dazai’s arm and flinging him back to the plaza with a
yell.

The air is whipping him and it's exhilarating. Even when there is pain encompassing him, he
doesn’t care. But he’s a bit wrong in the head, so he doesn’t think his opinion is really valid. By
some miracle, he lands on his feet. When he looks up, he notices that Aizawa is in Nomu’s grasp,
and very very bloody.

“Eraserhead!” He yells, hoping for a response. If he responds he isn’t dead, and that’s a pretty good
thing.

Too bad he doesn’t respond.

His situation is complicated. The villains don’t know he’s part of a criminal organisation, so he has
no protection. Chuuya is there, but if Chuuya is to save him, the whole operation will be blown.
There is a possibility that Dazai’s death will be less important than the goal of this whole entire
scheme. He can tell that much because Mori has sent two of his most important members for this.

So basically, his safety isn’t guaranteed. And Aizawa being alive will boost his chance of living
through this, because if he is going to die it won’t be by Shigaraki. So, that’s his excuse for
standing in front of Aizawa in hopes to defend him from Shigaraki.

He’s bringing rubber bullets next time. All he has is a stupid grappling gun, which in hindsight is
not as useful as he thought it would be. Fuck undercover work, he needs a weapon that he can hurt
people with. So he decides to shoot his grappling gun straight into the Nomu’s eye, pulling himself
along until he’s in arms reach of the grotesque creature. He really hopes this works, because if not
he’ll probably die. His hand makes contact with the Nomu, and the world erupts into blue.

There is a sort of understanding between the two of them. Both inhuman, but one in spirit and the
other physically. Mutual understanding, for what they are not.

It's painful. It feels like there are beetles crawling across his brain. Dazai can feel who the Nomu
used to be, he can see their life. He’s sucking their life away as if he is a vacuum.

Her name was Yui Akiyama. She lived until she was 19 and was quirkless, growing up in Osaka.
Her childhood was rough, her father died at a young age and her mother was poor. They lived in a
small apartment, and as Akiyama grew up life became tougher for her because of her quirkless
status. Quirklessness became less frequent, and with that came awful discrimination. She was
denied jobs, forcing her to turn to crime, running errands as a member of a small-time crime
syndicate. She ended up becoming a morphine addict after being offered some by another member
and was handed over to All For One as a peace treaty between the two organisations.

Akiyama was experimented on continuously. She was definitely not the first person he (who was
he? A doctor with a funny-looking moustache and round goggle glasses) experimented on, but she
was the first to become whatever the Nomu was. All For One continuously forced quirks into her
body. The last remains of her humanity end with her own screams.
 Dazai thinks he can hear a voice calling to him.

“Thank you.” It says, repeating over and over again.

He doesn’t respond to it.

“You! What did you DO?” Shigaraki wails, pointing to the lifeless remains of the monster.

The brain had burst into a gross matter and the body wilted into a puddle like it was a balloon.
Dazai can finally relax a bit more, now that it is dead.

“You are supposed to be on my side! That’s not fair, it’s not fair! You’re cheating.” He complains
as if he is a child throwing a temper tantrum.

What? What is that supposed to mean? Does he know who Dazai is? Well, he knew who Shigaraki
was back then, but he shouldn’t know Dazai. (Shigaraki, which wasn’t his name. He knows, and
it’s on the tip of his tongue. He is not Tomura Shigaraki) But god, he hates whoever he is.

Dazai laughs, and Shigaraki stares. All of this bitter resentment for someone who barely knows
him. Mori would kill him for this, he shouldn’t let his emotions get the better of him during a
mission. He puts his little grudge against Shigaraki aside, shoving it down and locking it into a
safe.

Shigaraki leans his fingers in, before stopping them right before Dazai. He has this unrecognisable
expression on his face like he knows.

“What’s wrong Shiggie? Too scared to touch a student?” Dazai taunts the other.

“I know of you, Dazai Osamu Be warned, I will be back for you.”

Instead of replying, he chooses to sock Shigaraki straight in the face. Man, that feels good. He
hopes it leaves a bruise. He also hopes that he won't have to spend more time with this asshole.

All Might launches himself into the USJ. Dazai thinks this is the happiest he’s been to see that
annoying man because this can finally be over and he can drink himself to sleep.

“Young master, I think it would be wise if we left. At this rate, we will be unable to defeat All
Might.” Kurogiri suggests, coming back from wherever the hell he was before.

Shigaraki scowls, which turns into a fear-stricken expression when he notices All Might’s angered
face. He stumbles back into the portal quickly, and Dazai stops. That face.

Dazai drops to the ground and laughs. Quietly, next to Aizawa who isn’t awake. Maybe he’s dead.
All Might will do something.

Tenko Shimura. That is his name.

Chapter End Notes

HEY HEY new chapter

 Torn, bloody bandages
Chapter Summary

USJ wraps up

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

His head is killing him. Most of the UA teachers rushed to the USJ, but Dazai is quite unsure how
they managed to find out that they were being attacked. He’s still lying down next to Aizawa in the
middle of the plaza. He should probably get up, but everything is aching. God, there’s a lot of
blood on him.

Maybe he can just…

The water is cold, so cold that his limbs lock up. He throws himself into the man-made lake beside
him in an attempt to scrub as much blood off him as he can. The issue is- well his bandages, that
are about to come off. Excess blood makes them tear and so does water, so they're basically falling
apart. He can’t really do much about that, but thank god for the turtleneck part of his outfit. It’s a
darker grey colour, so if it gets water on it he can disguise the blood. He’ll patch his injuries up at
home.

He can hear voices around him, younger ones. Midoriya pops his head into Dazai’s view and he
waves as cheerily as he can. Apparently, he doesn’t look great because Midoriya jumps back. Dazai
gets up, spitting the blood from his mouth onto the pavement.

“That was so cool of you, I saw the end of the fight and I can’t believe you took out that thing!” He
gushes, then quickly shakes his hands in front of him. “But-But you were bleeding! And actually
flung across the plaza. I’ll get a hero to provide medical help-”

“Midoriya, it’s great to see you too!” Dazai grabs his classmate's wrist, “I’m barely even hurt,
lucky right? It wasn’t my blood. Somehow getting thrown gave me the opportunity to land with
only some bruising… I have a few scratches yeah, but Aizawa-sensei is the one who took the brunt
of the damage.” He refers to the man a few metres away from him surrounded by Vlad King and
Midnight, trying to minimise the bleeding before paramedics can arrive.

Midoriya rushes to agree with him, crowding Aizawa with tears in his eyes. He guesses Midoriya
looks up to the man, which is kind of weird. He doesn’t seem to have many good adult figures in
his life.

The texture of mushy bandages is really starting to annoy Dazai. He’s soaking wet, hurt, and still
pissed at Tenko Shimura. What does he call him? Tenko? Shimura, or Shigaraki? Maybe he’ll call
him Tenko to anger the frustratingly dumb man next time he sees him.

Dazai carefully slinks toward the entrance with the goal of leaving before the paramedics arrive.
He can let a classmate know that he’s leaving, bullshitting something about the teachers telling
him he can go. As he begins his ascent to the top of the freakishly long staircase, he feels a hand on
his shoulder.
He goes completely still, whipping his head around. To his surprise, he is greeted by someone who
he really doesn’t want to see.

“Where are ya’ going? You don’t look too good, kid.” His usual obnoxious voice is toned down,
which Dazai can appreciate.

Well, his head is kind of spinning. The hand is off his shoulder now.

“Oh. Present Mic, hi. What are you doing here?” He laughs, “I’m thinking of heading back to my
house because you see, Vlad King cleared me to go. He checked me over and excused me so I
could change my clothes.” Dazai bluffs.

Yamada stares at him, squinting. Dazai hates being analysed like this. Mori likes to pick his
thoughts apart like he is an experiment. All for finding out what will get the largest rise out of
Dazai.

“Can I touch you? I want to check if there’s anything that needs immediate attention, like head
injuries.” He asks after a few seconds.

“Um yeah, sure. If you want.”

It’s just a bit. It’s not like Dazai is seriously injured, and Yamada wouldn’t check under his clothes.
He wouldn’t. Heroes are often corrupt, but he has some semblance of trust in the teachers of UA.
Nezu isn’t an idiot, and even though he’s a bastard, he’s not evil.

Yamada guides Dazai to a place nearby and motions for him to sit down. The older man sits
behind Dazai and warns him he’s about to touch his head behind him. He offers Dazai a towel to
wrap around himself, which Dazai accepts eagerly. Yamada’s fingers weave between strands of his
hair, sorting them to search for bumps on his head. Dazai can’t help but relax a bit at the repeated
actions. He loves his hair being touched. It’s a secret he’s never told anyone because he fears they
will laugh. For what reason he himself is unsure, he just knows.

He hasn’t been touched in a long time. Not like this. Only rough hands that teach him lessons, or
smaller hands that grab his shirt and pull and push him. Not gentle hands.

“I don’t feel any bumps or lacerations around your scalp. Did you hit your head while fighting? Or
any other injuries that need to be treated? I trust you can determine what you need help with”
Yamada quizzes, slowing down the hands in his hair.

“No, I believe not. I was fortunate in staying uninjured. Will Aizawa-sensei be ok?”

Yamada hums to himself.

“I'm not sure listener, he took a rather hard hit. It’s all thanks to you that his injuries aren't worse.
By the looks of it, he’ll come out will no permanent injuries, but I’m not too sure about the other
injuries. It’ll depend on factors like if the breaks in his bones were clean. One last thing, I just need
to ask you a few quick questions to verify you don’t have a concussion.”

Yamada questions Dazai about trivial things, like his name and his age. Dazai answers them with
ease.

“That’s probably all I need you to do. Thank you for cooperating Dazai. I understand you want to
go home. Do you need any spare clothes? I can arrange it, your clothing right now seems awfully
cold.”
 “No, I’m fine to go home now.” He replies.

The two of them continue to walk up the stairs to the beginning of the USJ, where the paramedics
have finally arrived. He sees Aizawa carted off into an ambulance and many villains in handcuffs.
It fills him with satisfaction that those pesky stupid criminals will be put behind bars soon.

People may believe that since he’s considered a ‘villain’ that he would support any criminal, but
that is simply not true. Dazai believes himself to be a criminal for the sole reason that he is told to.
He will do it because if it helps him find a reason to go on in life, it’ll be worth it.

The only people worth entertaining are truly good people and clever people. Chuuya is the only
person he finds himself unable to categorise into either, but he still has this connection with the boy
like he’s never had before. If he lost Chuuya, his life might crash into itself like a black hole.

He groans at the woman who stops his journey to get home once again until he finds out that Mori
has been called to pick him up. All the student’s legal guardians have been called. He waits for
Mori with equal parts dread and relief. He hates Mori, truly, but there is a strange comfort about
that truly horrible man. Mori knows everything. Everything he knows about himself, Mori finds
out. It is as if he digs a scalpel into his brain and dissects everything.

They get into a car. Dazai does not know where Mori got this car from, as he’s never seen it in his
life. He doesn’t care either way. He sits in the back shivering while his boss sends him a sly smile.

“What’s wrong Dazai-kun? Are you cold? Oh, what a poor little boy you are.” He teases, with no
response from the latter,

He doesn’t speak, not until he gets to his residence, past Chuuya, and changed into clothes that
aren’t sopping wet. And of course, when he’s changed into bandages. He can’t seem to be himself
without them, as if they are his source of life.

It feels wrong, everything feels wrong. It’s contaminated. He needs to scrub this place until the
walls peel off and he’s left with the wooden structures. Mori is in his apartment, and it feels like
the man has breached his very soul. He doesn’t understand. His homes have never been important,
but it's different. He cannot do a single thing, and for this, he weeps in his mind. He would not dare
to weep in front of people, especially not in front of a man who knows everything about him.

Mori speaks, and Dazai wishes he had spent more time with his stupid partner.

Chapter End Notes

hope you enjoyed reading this chapter!

 Utterly alone
Chapter Summary

moving out??!?! declaration of war?!?!?!

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

“You’re changing living arrangements”

Sure, it made sense logically. Chuuya and himself could not be seen together after being
announced as a member of a villain organisation. It just, left something shattering in his heart. He
will be alone once more, and Dazai finds something truly frightening within the concept of that.
Chuuya is much too different to the people in this city, or even other mafia members. He is
sincerely one of a kind, an angel of calamity which Dazai is fascinated with to no ends. He is much
different to Odasaku, who Dazai cherishes for a reason that cannot be explained simply. Chuuya is
not good like Oda has a kind heart, nor good like Fukuzawa of the famed armed detective agency
who protects others. Chuuya is entirely human, aggressive and caring and ruthless. So many flaws
that make him inexplicitly the most human thing Dazai has ever experienced, and it leaves this
gaping hole where his heart is meant to be, filled equally with envy that scalds his chest like boiled
water and true delight to witness humanity personified. He is simply the opposite of what Dazai
embodies, but somehow shares the same desire to be utterly human.

So, he does nothing but agree, watching from afar as they make arrangements. Who is he to
sacrifice the important mission for his personal desires? Don’t be selfish, Dazai. Don’t be selfish.

It feels as if he has too much space without Chuuya to occupy it. Now, he is truly isolated. Chuuya
and he may not contact each other in person unless it is of absolute dire circumstances. They are
sentenced to messages and letters, like it is a punishment from god.

His new apartment is much smaller. There are only two rooms in his apartment, the bathroom and
the rest of it. The entrance leads into the kitchen and then continues to the living room, which is
technically his bedroom too. On the right side of the entrance, he has large windows overlooking
the east of Musutafu. This apartment, unlike his previous one, is on the better side of town. Not the
best, but more believable that a UA student lives there.

The bathroom is small but comes with a bath with a showerhead (You could just die in there. Die
and leave a bloody mess for some helpless janitors to clean up). It is inexplicably lonely to realise
he is the only one he knows, out of the hundreds of thousands surrounding him. He doesn’t own
furniture here. The previous apartment was already furnished, but this one came with absolutely
nothing but a built-in kitchen with a fridge, stove and microwave.

Dazai thinks this apartment must be an old room like a storage space because it seems every other
apartment next to him has at least a bedroom. He isn’t one to complain though, just to observe. To
idly take notes, free of judgment. It must have been significantly cheaper, because it makes perfect
sense for Mori to spend as little as he possibly could on Dazai.

He wonders if he is still going to get paid his normal salary, since he’s not doing his normal work.
Maybe it's different for long term assignments away from the mafia. He usually is uninterested in
his salary, opting to do work for his personal reasons rather than money.

Mori took his card back, too. A shame, but it was inevitable. Dazai is certainly not poor, and he’ll
just have to make due.

Dazai decides to go out by himself on his day off. The teachers at UA send an email out about
classes being cancelled for the next two days for recovery. They also recommend the school
counsellor, Hound Dog, to anyone who is having trouble recovering from the USJ. Dazai pays no
mind, happy to wander around instead of sitting in a classroom.

So he walks to his nearest mall and finds the cheapest coffee table he can find. If he’s going to
school, he needs a place to do work. His kitchen is well, small. Dazai makes sure to buy a kettle
and a pan (the essentials), then decides he’s been too productive so he heads back to his new place.
The coffee table fits nicely in the middle of what he likes to call his very versatile room. Dining
room, living room and bedroom! Three in one, what a deal!

He settles down with an obnoxious yellow cup with a bunny rabbit painted onto it (one of Oda’s
kids gave it to him as a farewell present) filled halfway with gin and draws, draws until the sun has
set completely and he can barely see his own hands.

Drawing is a hobby of his. Sometimes, he just sketches the scenery. It seems as if that is all he
actually does. His art is never completed, just messy lines upon lines of beautiful branches and
flowers, but also ugly trash and broken wine bottles. He likes to draw anything he sees, for he finds
they are all the same. No matter how hard he tries, his drawings do not produce emotion just like
himself.

Dazai once tried to draw Chuuya. To see if he could replica that burning humanity in him onto
paper. If Dazai could create that humanity with his own hands.

Chuuya scoffed at it, saying it made him look like a corpse.

He never drew a person again.

He allows himself a final smoke overlooking the city lights. His windows are floor-to-ceiling,
which is surprisingly pretty. It allows him to see everything. He snuffs out the flame on the tip of
his cigarette and drops it in the silver ashtray he brought from Yokohama, then curls up in the pile
of blankets he threw in the corner of his room.

The next day passes with relative quietness, surprising Dazai. He would have thought Mori would
make him do some work while he had an off day.

Dazai arrives at school with classmates asking about him. Midoriya rushes to him the moment he
appears in the classroom, panicking.

“Oh my god, you’re ok! I was worried because I didn’t see you after going to check on Aizawa-
sensei and I thought something may have happened-”

“It was very noble of you to protect Aizawa-sensei by yourself!” Iida buts in, putting a hand on
Dazai’s shoulder.

“Oh thank you, Iida! That short ugly ginger was so scary! Maybe he could have captured me if he
was less vertically challenged!.” He whines, clutching himself dramatically.

Iida ponders his words, “I must refrain from such insults, but he was indeed eye-catching with his
expensive hat. His outfit did not seem very… villainous.”

“Now now Iida, let’s not stereotype villains! They don’t have to look villainous to be evil.” Dazai
chides.

“But- you just insulted the hat villain’s height-”

Dazai waves him off, “Details, details! As much as I love chatting to you two, I have to make plans
for my next appointment with the local river, toodleloo!”

Before the two could say something (But Midoriya’s alarmed expression gave away what he was
about to say anyway), Aizawa tells them to sit down very sternly. Very frightening.

Everyone rushes to their desks out of fear for the bandaged man standing at the door (What is with
nullification abilities and bandages? Hey, at least they’re matching now) who seems resigned and
pretty tired. Although it was kind of hard to tell when Aizawa had an eye and most of his head
bandaged. The grim line of his mouth seemed to indicate he was already fed up with the class.

Cries ring out throughout the class about how Aizawa shouldn’t be at school in his state and he
shrugs them off.

“Recovery girl cleared me to teach. Besides, the sports festival is still going ahead despite the
recent attack.”

“But shouldn’t UA ramp up their security and stay alert for villain attacks? Sensei, I must voice as
the class representative, that the sports festival may put our class in danger.” Iida argues, earning a
few nods from students around him.

Clearly, UA was on edge from the villain attack, and more so were the students of 1-A. It wasn’t
often the top hero school in japan got struck by villains on a school trip. Rumours are already
starting to circulate online about the security of heroes. If villains could attack UA, then what was
next?

“While your points are correct, the sports festival is a very important opportunity for hero students
to get scouted by hero agencies for internships. The UA staff have discussed the possibility of you
first years taking internships this year due to your experience with villains. Because of the Sports
Festival, UA has granted all first year students access to the training facilities, as well as time put
aside for individual training. Of course, you will still be taught by All Might in foundational hero
studies to prepare for the festival. I expect none of you to slack off, or I will not hesitate to take
extreme measures.” Aizawa says before beginning to talk about different ways to restrain criminals
without using excessive force.

It's going well up until lunch when there is a small crowd around the 1-A entrance. Dazai
contemplates jumping out the window.

Bakugou riles them up, unfortunately, already giving the rest of 1-A a bad reputation.

Purple hair pushes through the crowd, sprouting obnoxious shit. “I came to see what the famous
class 1-A was like, but you all seem pretty arrogant. Are all hero students like this? I’m
disappointed”

The others in his class are quick to defend themselves but too scared to say anything as Bakugou
pushes his way past. Another student from 1-B with a hardening quirk Dazai presumes, starts
telling them not to get full of themselves because they survived a villain attack. How stupid can
these students be? The purple-haired boy continues his monologue, about hero students losing
places to general education. He’s just bitter, that guy. Dazai doesn’t believe for a second that he can
beat 1-A, judging by his lack of muscle and the way he speaks. He reckons that Shinsou has a
quirk that’s not physical, which are often quite powerful. The issue lies in his combat ability,
which, he has none by the looks of it. How boring.

“So I guess this is a declaration of war.” He finishes.

Dazai laughs. He really doesn’t mean to, but he was already trying to sneak around to get lunch and
he happened to hear it.

Shinsou looks deeply offended and looks like he’s about to start accusing Dazai of something.

“Ah, so the hero student is mocking me! I’m sure you’ve had such an easy life with one of your
flashy quirks, everything is always in your favour. The entrance exam was rigged so people like
me with a mental quirk that’s considered villainous, are useless during it!”

He seriously hates whoever this is. Easy life? Easy life? His life has been nothing but easy, and
certainly no thanks to his ‘flashy quirk’. God, if he could be free from his curse of an ability, he
could maybe live as a human. The gaping hole where his heart is supposed to be would be sewn
up. So Dazai does what he does best.

“How quaint, a declaration of war! Sorry to disappoint, but I simply must decline this invitation. I
don’t entertain self-righteous losers. I don’t care about your challenging life.” Dazai scoffs
(daintily), turning his head away and marching to the cafeteria.

There is not a single word uttered to him as he walks away, so he calls that one a success. Instead of
going to the cafeteria though, he turns his path down to the back of the school.

“A UA student smoking? Such shocking behaviour!” Dazai gasps at the student in the spot he had
been eyeing for the past few days.

“And what are you doing back here? Having a picnic?” She laughs sardonically. “Go play with
your other students.”

He tuts at her, walking closer. “What if I was looking for a place to commit a joyful suicide? See,
back here nobody would see me take my final breaths.”

The unknown girl falters, dropping her smoke.

“You’re a freak, nobody just offs themselves casually!” She declares while Dazai just shakes his
head condescendingly.

“Oh but I beg to differ! See, it is my one goal to commit a painless suicide that burdens no one.
Isn’t that delightful?”

She sneers at him in a way Dazai often gets when he talks about suicide. What is she going to do?
Tattle on him? There are no cameras in this spot at the back of the school, which is the reason he
made the trip out here in the first place. Plus, he has leverage.

“Yknow what? I don’t even care. Are you out here to have a smoke or what?”

Dazai laughs and plucks a cigar out of his own pack. He slides down the brick wall and lights it,
the girl doing the same.

“I’m Hishiro, by the way.”

 “Ohoho! Well, do you want to know my name? Hmm… it’s a secret!” He grins at Hishiro’s pissed
expression.

“Whatever. I’ll just call you a bandaged freak.”

Dazai clutches onto her, “How could you be so cruel to me, Hishiro darling! I thought we had a
connection, like Romeo and Juliet. Fated to be united for eternity-”

“I hope you successfully kill yourself.”

“Love you too!” Dazai retorts as he makes his way back to class.

Instead of staying in the comfort of his apartment, Dazai is tasked with sending out the reports for
both Chuuya and Mori, outlining recent events and information. An easy task, but important. Since
Mori can’t come down to Musutafu often and the risk of being sighted with Chuuya is too high, he
is left to other ways of receiving and giving vital information related to UA and the League.

He had earlier been informed of a location where he is to meet the mysterious mafia member who
will be passing on his reports. Grabbing his gun and written reports, he makes his way into a shady
bar downtown. Sure enough, Hirotsu is already sitting there in a discreet booth.

“Hirotsu, hello!” He greets, sliding into the seat across from him.

“Dazai, good afternoon. How have you been holding up at school?” He inquires before motioning
for him to hand over his envelopes. Dazai complies and in return, he receives two other envelopes.
The end of Dazai’s coat tickles his shin as he stares up at his subordinate. Being a trusted member,
Hirotsu is one of the few Port Mafia members who were informed about this assignment.

“You wouldn’t believe how boring it is! Well, there was that attack thanks to the League of
Villians; A stupid name, really. I surprisingly haven't gotten into any trouble, if that's what you’re
wondering.” Dazai reassures as he peeks into the first envelope, “Have you seen Chuuya yet?”

“I have great trust in you Dazai, you would not jeopardise the mafia’s position. As for the matter of
Nakahara, I came in contact with him a few hours back in another location. He is doing well, if you
were inquiring about his health. Although I don’t believe I can say the same for your lip.”

“Ugh! You won’t believe it, but Chuuya punched me on the lip. The lip! He wrecked my gorgeous
face, I swear he’ll pay for this!” Dazai swears, running a finger over the scab.

“I wish you a swift recovery..”

Chapter End Notes

YESS A NEW CHAPTER #WOW also I kinda edited chapters 1 and like 3 umm not
that much changed plotwise and all it just sounds a bit better cause wow my writing at
the beginning of this fic was notttt good
 A race
Chapter Summary

SPORTS FESTIVAL !!!!!!

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

It seemed Dazai would never stray too far from his black and dirty blood. He finds himself
continuing his utterly demonic acts in the form of standing in the middle of a room. His right shoe
slips across the floor and he tumbles down into a puddle of red liquid from one of the dead women
sprawled across the floor, smearing it onto his clothes.

He drops down to his knees, simply exhausted while the light of the moon peaks into the large
warehouse windows surrounding him. He unfairly hopes someone will stay by his side after
becoming the devil himself, which he has been likened to many times. Some say he is the
reincarnation of Beelzebub, who represents the sin of gluttony. He supposes it’s fitting, because no
longer human consumes abilities with no limit like Dazai consumes souls endlessly in his hunger
for a reason to live.

Dazai likes to pretend that someone will love him when everything's over. When the curtains close
and he is bathed in darkness, there will be one person who accepts his entire being. But it is just all
make-believe, like a child playing with dolls. He has school tomorrow, he distantly remembers. So
he leaves the mess of souls trapped in that singular room and makes his way home.

Living a double life in the darkness and in the light is no small feat. While his actions have always
been shadowed, it didn’t seem that bad in comparison to the people around him. But now he is
surrounded by awfully good people who would never take a single life, and he is self-conscious of
the blood staining his hands.

The streetlights illuminate in a way that feels like they’re watching his every move. One step after
the other, he slowly traverses the city. A presence follows him after a while, quietly trailing him.

“It is unbefitting of a young person to be parading around at such outlandish hours.” A voice
creeps up on Dazai.

He turns around slowly, to meet the stranger he’s definitely seen on billboards with his crazed eyes.

“Hm. What's the fun in that? How boring.” Dazai remarks.

Dazai tried to place the guy behind him. Someone famous, and without a doubt. Judging by his
ridiculous outfit, it must be a hero. He’s trained well by the way he stands but purposefully
slackens himself to seem more approachable. Denim covers most of his body and face, with side-
swept blonde hair.

“I do hope you were not engaging in illicit activities, though I do advise you to make your way
home swiftly… I… is this blood?” He asks, pulling his hand away from Dazai’s shoulder.

“It’s ketchup.”
“But-”

“It’s ketchup.”

“Somebody poured ketchup onto you?” The man utters.

“Yup. I’m into some freaky stuff.” Dazai argues back in perfect seriousness.

“Boy, this is highly unbelievable. If you are to avoid the question, at the least make it plausible.
Allow me to accompany you to your home, if it is not too far away. I am also able to hail you a
taxi. It would be unacceptable for you to approach danger, especially in an area such as this. I am
the hero known as Best Jeanist, it is my duty to make sure the youth arrive home safely.”

“Well, I guess I can’t say no. Follow me.” Dazai silently fumes as he walked toward his apartment.
What rotten luck.

Jeanist keeps the pace with him, just far away enough that it wouldn't be uncomfortable. But boy, it
is uncomfortable. Maybe Dazai is the only one who was feeling awkward here. There is one big
question Dazai has plaguing his mind.

“Best Jeanist, I am quite curious. Isn’t your agency in Tokyo? Why are you all the way out here in
Musutafu?”

“Ah, I am here on important business for a few weeks. My agency is plenty competent to keep it
running without me until internships begin.” He says fondly.

Honestly, Best Jeanist seemed like a pretty cool guy. But he is also very dangerous, to the point
where people often underestimate his quirk. Manipulating every fibre? Fibre goes a lot farther than
just clothes, like any singular fibre. It makes Dazai wonder if Jeanist has experimented with other
fibres, or if he just has never thought of using anything but fabric. If he manipulated muscle fibres,
he could essentially control people's limbs. A waste, really.

He couldn't manipulate any fibre touching Dazai, but he could manipulate say, his tie fibres. A
formidable opponent for any person. Dazai stops a block before his apartment, turning into an
apartment building he knows will not care that he comes in. He prays Jeanist does not decide to
come in, because the blood on him may be a bit more visible under artificial light.

Dazai waves at the man beside him and skips off into the building. It seems the hero is watching
him, so he goes up the stairs to walk to the back exit. From there, it would be easy to get to his
apartment and go to bed. To go to such extents to avoid Best Jeanist finding out where he lives may
seem foolish, but it is still an important precaution. If his occupation is revealed and there is a hero
who knows his residence easily, it would pose a great issue to his ability to escape.

The next morning, Dazai successfully makes his way to school without sighting the denim hero.
Though today is no ordinary day, the sports festival has finally arrived. Dazai doesn’t know if he
wants to participate because, on one hand, it must be more entertaining than sitting in a classroom.
On the other hand, more publicity means a larger chance of being recognised.
Now his public record may be clean, but that does not mean random criminals will not recognise
the demon prodigy of the Port Mafia. Dazai just hopes that since the Sports Festival is not
particularly popular in Yokohama, there will be very few viewers.

His classmates are chatting away excitedly, despite the early hours they had to arrive at school so
that the festival could be organised. Midoriya, who sits in front of him, turns to Dazai excitedly.

“Are you looking forward to the Sports Festival? This year is the only year in history that first
years have been granted permission to go on internships! I’m so nervous, what if I don’t get any
offers? What if I do horribly at the festival? What if-”

“Hahaha, it seems you’re a bit nervous too.”

“You’re nervous about the Sports Festival? No offence, but you seem so laid back all the time that
I thought you’d be eager to participate.” Midoriya wonders aloud.

“Well, I guess I don’t like the idea of it all being broadcasted. I don’t want everyone to know my
name, quirk and combat ability all at once. It’s kind of weird for me.” and if someone recognises
me, I’m actually doomed…

“Oh yeah, I guess that would be nerve-wracking, I didn’t even think about that! I’ve been so
worried about my own quirk that I forgot that there were going to be so many people watching.”

“Your quirk? Ah, you mean how it destroys your body? Hmm, that is quite strange. It’s almost as
if it’s not your quirk.” Dazai sharply smiles at Midoriya.

The boy tenses up, panic quickly spreading across his face before attempting to neutralise it. Dazai
can feel the aura of his mysterious quirk intensify, almost as if it is reacting to the statement. If
Dazai didn’t know better, he’d think it was alive.

“Wh.. what? How’s that even possible? That’s funny…” Midoriya trails off, quickly glancing
around for an escape from the conversation.

Dazai is about to keep pushing, but Sero beat Dazai to talk.

“Midoriya, dude you’re sweating a lot! C'mon, I’ve got some water” He hands the green-haired
boy a water bottle that is obviously Hawks merchandise. Eager to move away from his
conversation, he greedily took the water and chugged it down and started to converse with Sero
easily.

It seems that the conversation with Midoriya was over, a shame. It did give him more of a
confirmation that Midoriya’s quirk was either from All for One or All Might, and he is definitely
leaning towards the second option. The strength is just too similar to overlook, plus the obvious
idolism.

Aizawa finally calls them to head over to the arena where they would change into their sports
uniforms in preparation for the first round of the festival. Everyone is quick to change, eager to get
down to the stadium. Midoriya, still shaken up, gets the fright of his life when Todoroki all of a
sudden declares that he will crush Midoriya.

What is Todoroki’s deal? He’s kind of an emo loser.

They all gather before a stage where Midnight is announcing the sports festival activities, and
when Bakugou makes his speech Dazai starts to laugh at the outrage the speech brings with it.
Man, everyone hates 1-A, don’t they? Dazai thinks they’re all childish for holding a class to some
weird standard because they were unwillingly attacked, but they also get more media attention
because of it. What child doesn’t love attention? A long, long time ago Dazai was the same.

It’s a bother that it was his class that was attacked, but it was also crucial that Dazai was there
instead of the other class. He needs to learn more about Tenko Shimura and why he is Tomura
Shigaraki. Why he was chosen and why he is appearing now. Where is All for One? Where is the
doctor? He hopes to find the answers to his dying questions soon.
The first round of the sports festival is an obstacle course. When the buzzer to start is sounded, the
temperature drops icily. Damn that Todoroki and his ridiculous quirk, it was freezing! Dazai, like
most of 1-A, avoids getting frozen in their tracks. Todoroki is just very predictable. He starts off in
the higher half of the competitors until he reaches the first obstacle. Robots, again.

Dazai dodges around them until he can steal a long piece of metal from an already damaged robot.
It’s not much different to a type of staff, which will be quite useful. He traverses through the
robots, trying to avoid them if he can. The other contestants are catching up now, and one person
catches his eye. The purple-haired freak that ‘declared war’ on his class (Shinsou, he recalled) is
being held up by a few other contestants as if he is a king.

So his quirk was a mental one that could control others. Some sort of brainwashing, judging by the
vacant looks in the eyes of the students under him. Dazai jogs over stealthily until he is right
behind the brainwasher. He brushes his hand against Shinsou’s ankle and watches in satisfaction as
he gets dropped onto the ground surrounded by angry contestants. Whoops. There’s no rule about
sabotage, is there? Plus, it isn’t Dazai’s fault he is so fucking annoying.

Dazai gives the boy a knowing smile before jogging off with the boy's snarl engraved into his
mind. He hasn’t run like this in ages, but the wind against his face is a nice change to the usual
stuffy office of Mori’s or his cold hunk of metal, so he is not one to complain. After a hefty amount
of sprinting, he is greeted by the second obstacle: a canyon with ropes crisscrossing it. Dazai is
somewhat near the front at this point, especially because there seems to be a traffic jam at the
beginning of it. Because man, that is massive.

Dazai has always had a good balance, so it must be fate. And if he falls and dies, who’s to say he
cares? He jumps onto the first rope out of many, walking across it deftly.

“Are you crazy?! You’re going to fall and die if you keep doing it!” A voice calls out frantically at
his lack of hesitance to cross it.

“Great, I’m looking forward to it!” He answers back happily as he continues to walk across it.

The person is right in a way because Dazai does not think he is favoured by the gods enough to
make it across. So, when he sees a girl with bright pink hair soaring his way with jetpack-boots, his
opportunity comes.

“Yo, yo! Hoverboots girl, mind giving me a lift?” He yells as he waves his hands at her.

She slows down to hover near him, looking at him quizzingly.

“What’s in it for me? My precious baby can’t hold much weight!” She answers him

“You’re an inventor, right? I’ll use your shit in the next round to advertise them! I’m from 1-A, so
I’ll be getting lots of media attention.” He bargains while she puts her hand on her chin.

“1-A, you say? That’s perfect! Grab onto my leg, quickly! But don’t ever call my babies shit
again.”

Dazai grins, jumping onto her left leg and trying to avoid her massive boots. He wraps his legs
around the top of the boot in attempt to not mess up the mechanics. The fumes are blowing into his
hair and he’s hanging so high up he’d definitely injure himself if he fell, but the adrenaline is so
much better than any of it. The girl quickly takes off again, using a rope with a clamp on the end to
pull them forward. As they approach the end, Dazai drops off and quickly rolls to the ground as her
jetpack splutters. She waves to him.
 “You better get into the next round!!” Hatsume exclaims as she switches to contraptions similar to
roller skates in her boots to give her more speed from the ground.

Unlike Dazai, she’s probably not as athletically fit as him because she’s a support course student.
No matter. He still needs to qualify regardless if she does as well. Dazai approaches the landmine
and catches up to Midoriya, who like him has also stolen a piece of robot.

The landmines are an interesting obstacle, but also particularly annoying. Midoriya seems to have a
similar plan to himself by using the mines as an advantage rather than an obstacle. Unlike Dazai
though, he plans to blast himself across the field in one go. Dazai yells good luck to his classmate
before stabbing his pole into a mine as if he is pole vaulting. With the extra boost, Dazai vaults a
few metres forward before heading down to the ground and repeating.

As Dazai is about halfway through the minefield, he hears a massive explosion behind him and
sure enough, familiar green hair is soaring above everyone. Dazai can hear Present Mic screaming
into the microphone, talking about how great 1-A is. That’s sure to make some kids jealous.

When Midoriya slams himself right in between Bakugou and Todoroki, it is a sight to behold. The
two powerhouses go flying back as Midoriya once again takes the lead continuously until he’s in
the last stretch with two angry students behind him. Dazai is rooting for Midoriya because if he’s
being honest, the other two could use to be knocked down a peg or two.

And Midoriya wins, with cheers echoing in the stadium and tears welling up in his eyes. The other
two are huffing behind him while others start to make their way across the finish line. Dazai
finishes 11th, which is a good solid win for him. He’s not too sure when the cut-off is, but it must
be after at least 20 students pass. He’s betting around 40 students will move on.

Dazai lets himself observe as people go to congratulate the first-place winner, some with scornful
gazes and half-baked compliments. Midoriya soaks them up anyways, overwhelmingly happy. It’s
kind of fun.

The top 42 students will advance to the next round. Dazai wonders what’s next.

Chapter End Notes

wow hi guys im not dead i just did not know what to write but im back #omg enjoy the
chapter
i literlaly hate bakugou AND todoroki genuinly burning hate my god
 Shock
Chapter Summary

CALVERY BATTLE AND THE FIRST ROUND OF THE individual matches

whoohoo

Chapter Notes

WOW?!?! a new chapter so soon?? shocking

(btw i used to be @imbusysimping, but this is my new user)

Midnight announces that their fifteen minutes to find teams start, with their points displayed on the
screen.

“Sorry Dazai, I’m going to get 10 million over there to team with me! You still owe me though!” A
blur of pink passes Dazai and calls out to him, leaving him alone.

His classmates are slightly avoiding him because no one wants a teammate who takes away their
quirks. Hatsume and he would have been such a good match though, but he is supposed to lay low.
Dazai ponders just forfeiting this round just to avoid media attention, but then he would feel so
humiliated that he must show his competence. It would simply be too embarrassing to fail this
round.

Although he is not the only one who is at a loss about who their team should be. Dazai snakes over
to approach the person he has in mind for his team.

“Hm, well it seems no one wants to team up with you after they saw you slip off your tower of
contestants. You looked like a real failure, I bet people were feeling grateful that they weren’t you.
Poor Shinsou. I may be your only option. Unless you don’t want to advance to the next round…”

The boy in question glares at him, crossing his arms.

“Don’t act like you’re so great. I’ll team with you, but just for this. I’m going to get into the hero
course, no matter what.” Shinsou retorts.

“Splendid!”

Dazai advises Shinsou to brainwash other students if they fail to convince anybody else to join
their team. After a few persuasive words, Shoji and Aoyama hesitantly agree to team with them
without brainwashing, and that becomes their team. With just below 400 points altogether to start,
it would be difficult to climb the ranks. But Dazai is sure they could win with his strategy.

“Just keep our approach stealth based and we can easily rack up points if we steal from weaker
teams. Our quirks don’t interact particularly well, so instead of working together quirk-wise, we
will have to rely on teamwork. Shinsou, make sure to not be touching me because if you lose
control of people’s minds randomly it'll be a huge setback. I’ll try to keep my hands to myself
mostly and I’ll hold onto all your clothes. You’ll be the rider and Shoji and I will take the sides.
Aoyama will be at the back to boost us if we need a quick escape. Shoji, you will be our lookout
and the one who will take advantage of the confusion Shinsou and I create with our quirks.” Dazai
explains, making sure everyone was on board. To his pleasure, both his classmates seemed to agree
with his ideas.

Shinsou again seemed to be displeased with his leadership, but it didn’t particularly matter to
Dazai. As long as he didn’t mess anything up.

The start timer goes off suddenly and the field explodes into action. Bakugou and Todoroki’s team
take the lead with big flashy moves, which is good for Dazai. He orders his team to start making its
way to a team of two from class 1-B, a boy with a mantis quirk who gets himself brainwashed by
his brashness and carelessness. As Shinsou orders him to hold his teammate in place, Shoji reaches
out to put the other two headbands around his head.

They continue similarly with a close call from Bakugou’s team, combatted using Aoyama’s Lazer
to move them away quickly. Bakugou loses interest fast, only having eyes for Midoriya and
Todoroki’s team. With five minutes left, the field is dominated by Bakugou and Todoroki’s teams
having a full-on match. They’ve got enough points to qualify Dazai believes, and when the timer
goes off he’s satisfied to see his team on the big screen in third place.

Shinsou quickly departs away from the group, leaving Dazai to congratulate his other two
teammates before also leaving the arena. The final round, the individual battles would commence
after lunch. He is quite excited to test how his ability interacted with other students' quirks.

What are quirks? What are abilities? It is a problem that has stumped many, because what is the
difference? Many are unsure because quirks and abilities have so many different aspects, the only
thing that connects them is the fact that they’re supernatural. Yokohama organisations dabble in
quirk and ability based experimentation, but it is still rare due to the isolation of the city. There are
very few ‘quirk’ users in Yokohama, almost every supernatural occurrence being the result of
abilities. So far, the only trait that separates them totally is the fact that quirks are genetic and
abilities aren't.

Many would say being given a quirk is like a blessing, but abilities are the opposite. For ability
users, they live in such a different world to citizens it’s like stepping into a portal to an opposite
dimension. Ability users are forced to another playing field entirely, normal life forgotten and
turned to ruin. For some, this is a good thing. It gives people a purpose they did not know they
needed. But for others, it is simply a curse, a hindrance, for they will no longer have a place for
them except in the cruel world of ability users. Dazai does not know where he stands, because his
life has lacked substance in both worlds. So he will wait and observe until he can break through the
dullness.

—----------------

Izuku thinks Dazai is odd, in a way that he feels untouchable. How he rarely eats in the cafeteria
and is covered in bandages as far as the eye can see. Dazai smiles a lot, in a way that Midoriya
can’t place. Condescending or sad or far too cheerful. Dazai is quiet, how he does not make his
presence known until a switch is flipped and suddenly he’s all you can look at. Izuku thinks Dazai
is odd at how he doesn’t look particularly enthused about getting into the third round of the sports
festival.

Dazai is odd, but so are his other classmates. He is so undeniably happy that now he has friends
who care about him, but there is still a nagging doubt in the back of his mind.
What if they only like him because of his quirk? Because now that he has gained power, he stands
above the rest.

Izuku shakes out of his darker thoughts. He still has to prep for the festival, and he has to impress
All Might! He checks the brackets again, even though he knows off by heart that his fight is the
first one. Still, he can feel his legs shake with anticipation and anxiousness. He’s going to be
watched by so many people!

“You’ve got this Deku, we’re rooting for you!”

“I wish you luck in your fight Midoriya!”

His friend’s encouraging words calm him down a bit as he enters the ring. His opponent has no
distinct features that could give away his quirk, except the eyebags. That could be quirk-related,
but eyebags are also common features due to lack of sleep. Shinsou, his name is announced, looks
at him almost bored, which only continues to rile him up.

There are so many more things on his mind than just the sports festival- like Todoroki and his
parent’s quirk marriage and One for All. The more he learns about all the negatives of society, the
more he wavers in his opinions of ‘good’ and ‘bad’. Izuku just can’t look at Todoroki the same, not
after learning about how he has been treated his whole life. How can you do that to your son?! On
one hand, he can sympathise with Todoroki’s refusal to use his quirk. But again, at least he has a
quirk!

The bitterness continues to linger on his tongue as he wishes he could say that. He wishes he could
tell Todoroki that if he had even one of his quirks he would be so, so grateful. If he was born with a
quirk, he wouldn’t have been hated his entire life.

“This is a fight to test your strength of spirit. If I win, I can get transferred to the hero course…”
Shinsou begins talking, right before Present Mic yells out ‘start’, “I can’t stand people like you.
Born with a silver spoon in your mouth, with a fantastic quirk that’s loved by others! And you take
that for granted too, not ever needing to worry about people being scared of you or being disgusted
by you. C’mon, say something. Are all hero students this stuck up?”

And that angers Izuku, in a way that makes him feel irrational. Because how dare some boy that
he’s never met before insult his classmates, who have already gone through so much. He is so
devastated that someone believes he’s had a quirk his whole life, because now no one will know
how much he has suffered just because he was born unequal. Izuku is heartbroken for Shinsou,
who is so wounded and tested over years of hate from others. He knows because he has worn that
face many times.

So he talks back, even though there is this nagging at the back of his head screaming ‘don’t
respond! Don’t give him what he wants!’, because he just can’t say nothing. He wants to punch and
scream at Shinsou and give him a hug.

And then there is nothing.

—---------------------

Dazai watches Midoriya’s face go completely blank, and disappointment boils within his mind. He
had higher expectations of his analysis ability, which, in the end, did not live up to it. A shame, but
also an advantage for Dazai. If Midoriya was smarter than he looked, then there would be a much
greater chance of him connecting the dots with Dazai.
But again, Dazai was really hoping to meet someone intellectual. He’s most excited to meet Nezu
one day,

All seems to be going well for Shinsou until there is an alarming presence. Well, eight extra
presences that appear in the direction of Midoriya. Dazai whips his head around because it is not
unlike the ball of rage that lies within Chuuya, making its presence known all the time. No, they
are not gods though. People, or spirits. They hold great reverence that Dazai feels compelled to
bow before them as if they are rulers of all.

In a flash, the strange company disappears and Midoriya is left conscious with a broken finger.
Midoriya’s quirk is something far grander than he thought. It didn’t just start with All Might. Dazai
fights the urge to just leave and call Mori, to demand answers. The only person who is aware of
every nook and cranny of Dazai’s ability is none other than the boss of the Port Mafia.

But he does not have time to dwell, as his match is approaching. It was a matter for after the Sports
Festival. Midoriya’s win is in fact surprising. Todoroki and Sero’s match goes as everyone
expected, but it is still overkill. Dazai ponders why Todoroki was so worked up.

Dazai is not looking forward to the first match. Even if he is quite confident in his abilities, the
upcoming dread of being electrocuted still weighs heavy on his bones. It is not the pain that scares
him, but rather the damage to his brain. What good is he if he is stupid? Electric shocks have
always made Dazai think less clearly and it messes with his memory an hour or so after the shock.

Of course, he’s had training for it, but psychological effects cannot be trained away as easily. As
he enters the arena, he can already tell how the whole match will play out.

“Hey Dazai, are you ready to fight? I won’t hold back man!” Kaminari goads, to which Dazai
smiles cheerfully.

“Aghhh I guess so… Brawling is so brutish though, it reminds me of a person I hate. Hmph,
hopefully, you’re better than that slug.” He complains in a laid-back way.

Kaminari’s stance is defensive, he’s obviously nervous about the fight. He would usually be
confident in his abilities, but since Dazai has resisted his shocks before, Kaminari has probably lost
some faith in his quirk. Good. Hesitance is key for Dazai to win, after all, if he is fast enough there
is a chance he can avoid being shocked. The blonde boy’s usual plan would be just to go all out
with no plan.

So when the announcement to start sounds, Dazai rushes forward, eager to confront Kaminari. His
opponent, obviously not expecting that, takes a step back frantically. When Dazai closes in,
Kaminari lets out a shock that goes straight through Dazai. It’s not massive, his opponent is testing
the waters. Dazai pays no mind, because he just needs to touch Kaminari to get him to stop
producing electricity. Since it is in the air and separate from the user after being produced, Dazai
cannot nullify it unless it's from the source.

That means, unfortunately, he has to grin and bear the electricity locking up his limbs. After three
smallish shocks to Dazai, he finally gets close enough to punch his opponent in the face. Kaminari,
not expecting that, falls over and quickly crawls away. Dazai walks slowly, towering over the boy.
He can see the impending fear on his face, and Dazai wonders if he’s really that scary.

Kaminari looks like a cornered animal, continuously producing electricity that looks like it doesn't
affect the other. Once he gets close enough, he swiftly kicks Kaminari in the stomach and
continues to roll him out of bounds. He looks pathetic, Dazai realises. Just like people look before
he murders them.
With that, his victory is announced. The crowd’s cheers lag behind, obviously not expecting this.
Dazai assumes they wanted some big fights with colours and explosions everywhere, like the
previous fight. It doesn’t matter to him either way, so he leaves back the way he came, with
Kaminari shakily standing thanks to the help of field bots. His classmates look uncomfortable,
displeased even, which is slightly shocking. Deciding that if he returns to the stands he will be met
with awkward conversation, so instead, he meanders through the stadium hoping for entertainment.

Then, he sees a tuft of red hair amidst the crowds.

 The shame of losing
Chapter Summary

second part of sports festival...

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

It is unmistakably Chuuya who he sees, to which he drags the shorter boy into the bathrooms.

“What are you doing here? I appreciate the support and all, but my god, Chuuya you’re pretty
noticeable. And on a wanted list.”

“Jesus, you’re acting like I don’t know that! Shigaraki sent me to ‘scout out the competition’, but I
think he wants me gone for hell knows why. I wouldn’t come here to support you anyways, we
both know that.” He shoves Dazai’s hands off him, opting to fix his hair in the mirror in a petty
show of defiance.

They stand in silence for a few seconds, before Chuuya relents and turns back to Dazai.

“...How are you doing?”

“What?” Dazai stares at Chuuya dumbfounded.

“I’m trying to be nice!! How are you??”

“Oh my, Chuuya is inquiring about my health, how princely~ I’m… well. Shockingly splendid
actually, now that I don’t have to stare at Mori’s ugly face every day as well as that terrifying hat
of yours! Oh, I’ve been blessed!”

“Why do I even try with you?” Chuuya punches his arm.

“Oh no, a villain is trying to hurt me! Hero, where are you? Save me!” Dazai whines, clutching
himself.

“Oi! Are you trying to fuck up this whole mission? Shut the hell up! I’m leaving, go back to your
hero business.” He snarls, speed walking away.

Dazai smiles as he leaves, holding a suspiciously familiar wallet with a little hat keychain attached
to it between his fingers. He still has a little while left before his next round. A perfect opportunity
he would say, to maybe buy some hero merch. He’s got to ask Hirotsu for Chuuya’s address now!

After maybe purchasing a few too many items and stashing them in the locker rooms, he makes his
way to one of the announcement boards, checking who has won the matches previously. Ah, he
hopes Mori isn’t watching the sports festival. He needs to send him another report soon, but it’s just
quite infuriating when the man refuses to inform him why he’s stuck at some stupid hero school.
What's the point in being here? He’s more useful to the mafia.

All the matches have gone more-or-less as Dazai predicted, meaning his fight is after the current
one between Tokoyami and Ashido, which is quite mundane. He is mildly interested in the fight
previously though, between Midoriya and Todoroki, as it seemed to be quite the dramatic fight.
Personally, Dazai believes that emotions and battles should not mix. It’s common sense that you
cannot think straight if you are wound up.

So, that may have sparked a plan for Dazai’s next fight.

Iida is low on Dazai’s ranked list of classmates. They have opposing personalities, but unlike
someone like Chuuya, they simply just clash. Chuuya and he have an uncanny ability to work
together, much to both of their distaste, so it’s a different situation.

When the match starts, Dazai already plans to lose. He hates losing, terribly so. But he is not a fool,
and he knows he is too far into the competition already. Enough to make Mori angry. And he
cannot anger him anymore, for he needs the answers that Mori loves to withhold from him in a
silly game that he plays.

Iida comes charging at him, to which Dazai simply dodges. He can have a bit of fun, can he not?

“Iida, why so slow? For someone with a speed quirk, you’re having an awfully hard time catching
up to me..” He taunts as he continues to quickly dodge the other student last minute.

He figured out the trick, which was to quickly swerve as Iida approached him. He didn’t have
much mobility when he used his quirk, only really running in straight lines. Dazai was basically
hopping around.

“I am trying, however, I still have much training to do.” He replies, cool and unbothered.

“I don’t know… with that speed, I don’t think you’ll ever catch up to your brother..” He says,
which finally strikes a reaction in Iida.

He stills, just for a moment.

“I…”

Dazai slams his fist into Iida’s gut, and he hears the satisfying sound of the other person gagging.
Ah, he’s supposed to be losing. Dazai feigns concern, draping his shadow over the other on the
floor. He knows, of course, that the hit is not enough to knock someone down. Dazai is still weak,
regardless of his training.

Iida gets up rather quickly, rage and insecurity thriving behind his eyes. He activates his engines,
but it’s different. Some special move, he guesses. He is much faster, and to another person, they
would most likely not see it coming. But Iida projects his move impressively well.

Dazai can see that he’s aiming for a kick, hidden by the hands in front of his body that make it
seem like he’s about to push him forward. It is a plan that could work well with better execution,
but Iida fails to plan for Dazai’s ability. No matter, he isn’t supposed to win this round either way.
Dazai sends Iida a sharp smile as he stands completely still, simply waiting for the kick. Iida’s eyes
widen in the fact that Dazai already predicted the outcome, but he still follows through with the
kick that sends Dazai skidding across the arena and out of bounds.

The crowd cheers, while Iida hovers over Dazai with a funny look on his face. He offers a hand to
the fallen boy.

“Wow Iida, that was so impressive! You must teach me how to master those awesome kicks of
yours someday…” He gushes, making complete eye contact with Iida while he stretches out his
limbs. “Ah, well I do think I must be heading off, have fun preparing for your next match. Bye-
bye!”

He skips off, leaving Iida to walk back the other way. Although there is an uncomfortable burn of
shame for facing defeat in front of such a large crowd, he tells himself it’s for the better. He really
hopes Mori is not watching.

Dazai wonders if he can find a place to smoke here. Perhaps outside the venue? Maybe he should
just go home. But again, his classmates might take it the wrong way and think he’s upset over the
fact he lost. Then they’d comfort him or something, which would be so much worse. Ah, what he
does for the Port Mafia. Maybe he’ll find Chuuya again, or send him a bomb with the hero merch
he’s planning on mailing him. Maybe he’ll kill himself today. What choices he has!

His classmates all give him condolences for the match, but he can see the relief on some of their
faces. Dazai was quite a wild card with his ability, he guessed. The idea of people having their
quirks taken away scares many, and that does show how weak they are. The fact that most of his
classmates solely rely on their quirks is disturbing to Dazai. He comes from a workplace where
abilities are simply weapons and advantages to the very few people who possessed them. To see
them so widespread is a surprise in itself, but that the people who are training to become glorified
police don’t know how to live without their quirks is disheartening.

“It’s alright to lose! You have next year, man!” Kirishima reassures him.

While the sentiment is nice, he is sure he does not look remotely disappointed. He smiles in a way
that he hopes conveys a ‘thank you before going to chat to the others as if nothing happened. Dazai
does not like pity.

Even though the rest of the matches are uninteresting, it allows him to form new insights into his
classmates. Bakugou winning the festival does not come as a surprise when Todoroki refused to
use the fire side of his quirk. Dazai has to admit, that he is quite curious about the Todoroki family
drama. He’s only recently heard rumours about it considering heroes aren't mainstream in
Yokohama, but nonetheless it has grasped his attention. It’s the sort of thing that’s doomed to
collapse the hero industry.

When the winners stand on the podium, Dazai wonders where Iida went off to. Did his words hurt
the boy that much? Dazai doubts that Iida would be so butthurt by something as measely as that.
The fact that Bakugou is chained up like some sort of animal up there feels out of character for
UA. Aren’t they all about freedom? He still doesn’t particularly care, instead focusing on the fact
that they get to go home after this. The award ceremony ticks by agonisingly slowly until finally
it’s finished, to which Dazai eagerly changes into casual clothing and practically runs out of the
school with his bag of merchandise. When Midoriya asked him about it (“I didn’t think you’d be
such a hero fanboy!”), he merely smiles and says they are for a good friend.

He sends a letter to Mori after the sports festival. Maybe it’s because he’s been away for so long,
but he is quite done with the mind games. He demands a clue or something that will point him in
the right direction. Dazai hates UA.

Then, he tries to drink himself to death.

Obviously, it doesn’t work. He wakes up with a blaring headache and a sore back from the position
on the floor he’s found himself in. It is sometime before sunrise, so unfortunately he still has time
before school. Rats. He finds himself utterly bored out of his mind until it is a reasonable time to
start walking to school. He arrives early, hoping to see Hishiro. When he arrives at the fated spot,
she is nowhere to be found.
 He smokes anyways, making sure to not let the smell cling to him too much. He secretly hopes
he’ll get caught and expelled because then he won't have to continue hanging out at this stupid
school. He can’t tell what's worse: Hanging around kids at UA or hanging around Mori. It’s a
tough call, and he thinks he would rather just die than befriend either. Life is so difficult…

The noise of his classmate grates his ears as they chat about the sports festival. Then, Aizawa
announced internships, and Dazai finds himself slightly more interested.

Chapter End Notes

guys sorry my computer BROKE. i spilled water all over it and yeah its broken... I'm
using another computer atm but its old and does not work that well

ALSO HERO NAME FOR DAZAI?!?! SUGGESTIONS??

whatever anyways ill try to update soon!! i have something planned for internships..
lmk who you'd like dazai to intern with though because i actually haven't decided
funnily enough
 Mackerel
Chapter Summary

INTERNSHIPS AND HERO NAMES??

dazai vigilante arc?!

Chapter Notes

wow. are you surprised that I updated again?!?!? I am...

BY THE WAY. I noticed that I've kind of been going back and forth with present and
past tenses in my writing, so I've edited the whole fic and changed a few things toward
the beginning (not really plot-related things, just better dialogue and improving my
writing) feel free to go back and reread, or not... your choice

Internships. Dazai decides he does in fact want to go on internships because then he won’t have to
do any schoolwork AND doesn’t have to see Mori. Two birds with one stone. He has surprisingly
little information about the inner workings of hero agencies. He’s sure Mori would tell him if he
asked, but… he’d rather not owe that man anything.

They have to pick hero names first, unfortunately. Dazai really has no idea what he wants his hero
name to be. Maybe he’ll make it really stupid. Omnipotent fingers… or Handsome mummy. Wow,
choosing hero names is difficult.

“While these hero names can be temporary…” Aizawa starts.

“You’ll have hell to pay later!” Midnight interrupts, swinging the door open and sauntering in. “If
the hero names used by students stick with them throughout school, they end up becoming their
professional hero names too.”

“Yep. Midnight is here to help you pick out your names. When you give yourself a name, you get
a more concrete image of what you want to be like in the future, and you can get closer to it. I’m
done with this.” Aizawa says, zipping himself up into his sleeping bag.

What you want to be like in the future? Dazai has many names given to him, like Demon Prodigy.
It seems his names just set him up for failure then. Whiteboards are passed out while Midnight
explains stuff about names being friendly and open and whatnot.

Wait. He has an idea. Whipping out his phone, he sends a text.

[Dazai] Chuuya.

[Dazai] Chuuya.

[Dazai] Chuuya. Chuuyaa! Answer me rn

[Dazai] It’s very important

[Chuuya] What?! I’m busy. Go die.

[Dazai] My heart…

[Chuuya] What do you want?

[Dazai] Give me a name

[Chuuya] Bandage waster. Mackerel.

[Dazai] Hmm. Fine. Thanks, Chibi!

[Chuuya] Whatever.

[Chuuya] By the way, do you know where my wallet went?

[Dazai] What? No… that's crazy

[Chuuya] DAZAI!?

He decides to turn off his phone after that. All the other hero names are interesting enough. He’s
still unsure what makes a good or bad hero name, but he doesn’t actually care what he’s going to
be called. He particularly likes Uravity though, if he had to choose. It’s cute, sue him.

“The nullifying hero: Mackerel!” He says, a bit too proudly.

He can feel Midnight’s confused gaze on him, with cries of outrage from the class.

“Hmm… Why Mackerel? It doesn’t have anything to do with your quirk.”

“Ah, well, it’s to honour a good friend…” Dazai says solemnly, “He’s no longer with us…”

Midnight touches her heart and pushes Dazai empathetically back to his seat. Dazai tries to keep a
serious face. He loves pretending Chuuya is dead. Maybe he’ll make it into a whole thing.
“Chuuya would have loved this…” and “I need to throw myself into this river because Chuuya
would have thrown me in…”

At least he’s got a hero name now. Dazai wonders if he’ll actually remember to respond when
someone calls him Mackerel. Maybe he’ll burst out into laughter. Some of the names are definitely
creative.

What does catch his attention is Iida’s hero name. It’s simply his first name, which seems quite out
of character. Iida seems like the type of person to choose a ridiculously flamboyant name. Or
actually, he would use something to do with his family considering he values them so much. What’s
his brother's name? Ingenium, Dazai believes. Are hero names passed down? Ugh, he can’t even
imagine using a name related to Mori or his father at all.

Aizawa hands out their internship offers, to which Dazai realises he has only one. How
embarrassing… He checks the offer, to which he almost drops the paper in shock. Why would
Aizawa offer him an internship? Ok yeah, he can see why. But does he want to intern with his
teacher? Possibly… Dazai doesn’t think he has any other options though, considering there is one
offer.

His plans for the internship revolve around slacking off as much as humanly possible, which it
seems like Aizawa would not allow. Damn. But since their powers are similar, it makes perfect
sense for Aizawa to reach out to him. Dazai assumes they would work on strengthening combat
since his ability does not have room for growth like quirks do. Wait, does Aizawa even have an
agency? All it says is ‘Eraserhead’ which alludes to just the man himself. Dazai debates if that’s
even allowed.

Aizawa then explains that there are forty agencies that have agreed to take on any student that
wants to intern with them. So, he can choose from them too.

He notices other students looking either dejected or gleeful at their internship offers or lack of.
Some compliment Bakugou and Todoroki for their high amount of offers. Dazai filters through the
offers, none standing out to him. He recognises a few agencies by names, but most of them seem
irrelevant. Interning with Aizawa starts to look more promising. Maybe he can pester Aizawa so
much that he expells him! It was all coming together in his mind: Dazai Osamu, UA first year
expelled due to harassing his teacher during internships. A scandal that shakes UA!

Dazai does hope that he won’t have to share an internship with anyone though, since the whole
point of it is to get away from his annoying class.

Midnight and Aizawa leave after Aizawa tells them to turn in their choices by the weekend. Only
two days?! Then, Ectoplasm waltzes in to teach them math. Do heroes actually use non-monic
quadratic trinomials in hero work?

During lunch, Dazai seeks out Hishiro once again. He waits by the brick wall until a familiar head
of red and yellow messy hair pops up. He excitedly waves her over, to which she rolls her eyes and
quickens her pace.

“Saw you at the Sports Festival. I didn’t know you could fight like that!” She says, lighting up a
cigarette.

“Well, I, unfortunately, didn’t have time to commit suicide before the festival. A shame, I thought it
was positively uninteresting. Hey, what course are you in?”

“You don’t need to know.”

“Wow. So mysterious, I’m swooning!” He announces to nobody in particular, stealing her lit
cigarette and taking a long drag.

“I’m a second year.” She confesses like it is a massive secret, snatching it back with a glare.

“Boo. Boring. Second years are lame.”

“You’re still a first year, and short too. I’m basically a head taller than you at this point.”

“Gah! You’re giving me flashbacks, don’t call me short. My arch nemesis is shorter than me. He’s
tiny!” Dazai complains.

“Arch nemesis?”

“Yes. He’s terrible!”

“Whatever you say… I have to get back to class. Bye.” She says, handing him her half-smoked cig.
He gratefully takes it.

“Back to your mysterious class…” He mumbles.

Seriously, what’s her deal? Maybe she figured out that he’s a mafia executive and doesn’t want
him to have any more information on her. Fair enough, he did give off ‘mafia executive’ if he did
say so himself.

For hero training, Aizawa stands menacingly over the class, with All Might meekly behind him.
You’d think the number one hero would have a bit more confidence in him.

“Since All Might cannot criticise you all properly, I have made the logical decision to talk to all
individually and discuss your faults during the Sports Festival. All Might will go through some
basic physical training while I call each of you out. Get moving. Midoriya, you’re with me first.”
Aizawa drawls in that same lazy tone he always dons.

Although it sounds laidback, it somehow makes everyone feel quite intimidated. Dazai needs to ask
Aizawa how he does it. All Might directs them to do some stretches, which Dazai finds positively
boring.

“Ashido! Aren’t physical warm-ups terrible? They make me want to die.” Dazai whisper shouts to
the girl beside him, “Do you think if you push me over All Might will let me sit out?”

“You complain about everything Dazai, I like them. They’re fun! I do warm-ups like this for dance
actually! Also no, get someone else to aid your fake injuries.” She replies, turning away.

Dazai sighs dramatically, praying for when Aizawa calls him over. Anything is better than
stretches. He doesn’t even mind fighting physically, It’s just stretching that is boring. His limbs
just don’t move that way. When he does, he almost skips over in glee.

The first thing Aizawa says to him is, “You didn’t try your hardest during the Festival.”

“Aizawa-sensei, I have no idea what you mean. Isn’t it a bit cold to accuse your student of
something like that? I for one think Iida did splendidly in defeating me.” Dazai remarks while his
teacher frowns at him.

“If you continue to half-ass the hero course, you’ll be expelled. This is a serious career.”

“Of course… I’ll do my best.”

There is a somewhat awkward silence that permeates the air, but Aizawa looks anything but
nervous. He almost looks amused, if Dazai had to tell. He wants to ask the man about the
internship.

“About the internship offer… I didn’t know you played favourites, Aizawa-sensei! Am I the only
person who received an offer from you?”

“You know I don’t play favourites. I offered you an internship solely based on the fact that our
quirks are similar. I don’t care if you choose to accept.” He says, “Regarding your performance in
the Sports Festival, although I do not know why you chose to weaken yourself, you showed
promising intellect with the strategies used in the other rounds. Don’t sell yourself short.”

“Ah, Sensei is so nice. I’m definitely the favourite.”

Aizawa sends him back to class with daggers in his eyes while Dazai grins at him innocently. He
hates how perceptive Aizawa can be. How could he tell that he lost on purpose? To anyone else, it
was flawless. He was caught off guard by Iida and pushed out. Speaking of Iida, he’s acting
strange. He is smiling and talking like normal, but Dazai can see the complete hate in his eyes.
Must be because of the Hero Killer, that vigilante parading around murdering heroes. Iida’s
brother was a victim of him, it seems. Whoops, he probably shouldn't have made that comment
yesterday.

Stain is an irrelevant figure, at least to Yokohama. Dazai is sure he’s going to start a massive
uproar in Musutafu and other places similar. He’s already gaining internet traction, and people
are fascinated with his views. Separating heroes into ‘fake’ and ‘real’ is too narrowminded. Why
would someone not become a hero for the money? It’s an occupation like any other, it’s like saying
someone became a cleaner to clean rather than earn money. He doesn’t disagree that some heroes
are corrupt per se, but so are most people. It's too general to pick only on heroes.

He does want to meet Stain though, at least once. Despite hating his thinking, anyone who can
share their ideals is better than one who stays with the tide.

The day finishes uneventfully and Dazai lugs home the mounds of paper regarding internships in
his bag. Rules and more rules. Maybe he should change up his hero costume? If he’s going to be
doing actual hero stuff rather than playing around like he thought he would be doing, he’s got to
have weapons. A gun… sounds good. Why not? He’s got a perfect aim and can just switch them for
other bullets. What if he learned how to use some obscure weapon, like nunchucks? But if he lost
them, they would be hard to replace.

So many decisions. When he gets home, he first decides to send out the copious amounts of hero
merch and the wallet back to Chuuya. He wishes that he could see the look on Chuuya’s face when
he comes home to it, but the world just isn’t fair…

He goes on a nice walk when the sun sets so he can wear the scarf that he stole from Chuuya
before they moved houses. The air is nice and crisp, a perfect temperature where he can feel the
breeze in between his bandages ever so slightly. Dazai sighs and takes a deep breath out. He’s
looking up at the sky trying to spot stars when he feels a splash on his shoe, and in extension, his
pant leg. Looking down, there's a small puddle of blood. Looking back up, there’s a man in a
business suit with a leg bleeding out and two people with their quirks on full display.

“Jeez, you got my shoes dirty. Do you know how time consuming it is to clean these?” Dazai asks
irritatedly, pulling up his sleeves. “I hate brutes like you.”

“You’re just a kid. Leave us adults to our business.”

He pulls down the shirt of one of them, to take the knife out of his hands. He tries to retaliate with
some sort of mental quirk Dazai assumes, which obviously doesn’t work. The stunned businessman
is definitely affected by that quirk, staring at nothing with an oddly serene smile on his face. Kind
of like how Dazai looks when he’s about to die. Poising his now acquired knife, he slashes at the
man’s eyes.

He screams. Dazai smiles, satisfied. Pulling his (now useless) companion out of the way, the other
one, a woman, turns to him with an enraged expression on her face. Dazai can tell she’s the better
fighter out of these, but her lack of stability will be her downfall. She has this extra pair of eyes
springing up from her hair that doesn’t seem to do much. Or maybe they do, looks can be
deceiving. He stabs right into her stomach, pulling out the knife quickly. As he spins around to get
a quick look at the guy bleeding out, he hears the telltale click of a gun; He isn’t going to dodge in
time.

Bleeding out sounds tedious though...

Dazai tries to manoeuvre in the most unpredictable way in hopes she will shoot somewhere
unimportant. Or actually, maybe she’ll get a bullseye. A sharp pain passes through his left arm.
Good. Her gun needs to reload, so he can subdue her now. Dazai launches himself forward to
knock both of them to the floor. He can feel blood slipping down his arm onto his hand. It’s making
it quite difficult to get a grip.

The woman isn't faring much better, with her stomach squirting blood out of it every few seconds.
Her nails claw down the side of Dazai’s neck, ripping the bandages. He thrusts his knife straight
into her neck, narrowly avoiding the blood jetting out of her neck. The blood is warm and sticky,
unsatisfyingly so. He turns to the other guy, who definitely looks more alert now than he did
earlier. And throws a wallet that he’s 90% sure belongs to him.

“Helloo! Hi! Are you conscious? Ok cool, bye. Might want to call the police… or not. Bye-bye!”
Dazai skips off, giving a small wave to the man fumbling with his phone.

Wow. Is this is vigilante era now? First, mafia member, then, hero student, and next, vigilante.
Circus is next on the list!

He returns to the actual objective of his walk, even with his injuries. The bullet only grazed his
arm, he’s sure it’ll stop… sometime. He wants to see stars. Dazai doesn’t even know if he’ll be able
to see them because of the light pollution in the area. It’s quite densely packed around here. Either
way, it’s good to try, or something. Plus Ultra….

When he climbs to the top of the building, disappointment runs rampant in his mind for a second.
Then, he goes back to not caring. There are very few stars out, save for the brightest ones. Of
course, the sky is still quite nice without the stars, but they do make the sky seem a bit nicer when
they sparkle. The last time he was in Musutafu he saw the stars. It was years and years ago, and
under the same stars, He walked away from Dazai.

Those two days of debating over which internship he should take go by, and he is left on Friday
night to submit his choice. He’s expected to fill out some form via email, and in return, each
student will receive an info packet. He applies to the agency of his choice and sighs in relief.
Finally, he could have a drink.

Then, Mori’s caller id flashes on his phone screen.

 Bloody cigarettes
Chapter Summary

wow a little break before internships... Oda returns?!?! dazai backstory!?!?

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

“Mori? What do you want?”

“Be a bit nicer to me, I am your boss.” Mori chides.

When Dazai doesn’t grace him with a response, the man coughs into the phone and starts talking.
Dazai stares at the ceiling, counting the little imperfections on the ceiling. He debates hanging up
but ultimately decides not to. Best not to anger the man.

“Well, as I’m sure you’re aware, internships are next week. I need you up in Yokohama this
weekend, so if you’ll congregate around my office by noon tomorrow, I will be most pleased. This
is an order, by the way.” He tacks on the last part as if it is an afterthought.

Dazai, with no choice, agrees. On one hand, seeing Mori is a dreadful activity. But if he’s in
Yokohama, Oda and Ango will be there! And Musutafu is terribly boring compared to the port city
that he calls home. Dazai doesn’t pack any bags, just slides on a suit and his black coat and leaves.
He has enough time to get to Yokohama tonight, probably.

He forgot how time consuming the customs to get into Yokohama were. There is only one train
line that makes its way into the city, with security on either end that you need a permit to enter. Of
course, citizens can leave when they please with little fuss. Why would a citizen want to leave
Yokohama though? The majority of the population is quirkless. In a society where one’s status is
determined by your supernatural ability, it appears suicidal to leave when one lacks anything
supernatural about oneself.

Yokohama is actually quite lax regarding quirkless people entering the area. The customs are
mostly to stop the spread of quirks within the city. Some reference Yokohama as a haven for
quirkless people.

Dazai approaches the familiar alley hurriedly. With the time, they should be here. His hand curls
around the corner of the wall as he peeks into the bar.

“Odasaku, Ango! Hello hello, I take you missed me? Well, fear no more~” He greets, swinging his
arms around Oda’s shoulder. “Wow, you stink.”

“You’re back. I’ve been out all day working, I’m bound to be sweaty.” Oda says good-naturedly.

Dazai laughs, placing himself in the middle seat that so happened to be in between the two men.
The bartender brings him a brandy on the rocks. Something different, but Dazai can always
appreciate good liquor.

“I was enjoying the peace without you, to be honest.” Ango comments while Oda gives him a
disapproving glare.

Dazai grins at Ango, leaning closer until he is in the other’s personal space. “Oh, I know you
secretly missed me! No need to keep up the no-nonsense attitude around us, your best buddies.”

The man sighs and turns back to his drink, recognising it’s a lost cause to argue anymore. This time
it’s a scotch, unlike the usual non-alcoholic beverage he nurses.

“Soo… anybody want to volunteer to inform me of the latest gossip? What’s going on around
Yokohama?”

“Gossip…? God, I shouldn’t be sharing this. You’re a horrible influence. I’ve heard about an
organisation attempting to enter Yokohama illegally from Europe.”

“Oh, Mimic? Yes, there’s been a bit of talk around them.” Dazai waves off. “Nothing we haven’t
seen before. Everyone’s trying to get into Yokohama.”

“You may be correct, but the Port Mafia has set their sights on the group specifically. Personally,
I’m more inclined to trust the boss of the mafia. You may be smart Dazai, but you haven’t set foot
in Yokohama for weeks.”

“Gahh, I can’t believe you’d take that old man’s opinion over mine!” Dazai points, accusatory.
“Now you’ve got me thinking about Musutafu. It’s dreadful, horrible even! I couldn’t even kill
myself there, and I didn’t die when we got attacked. You’d think that one of those would reunite
me with death, but nope.”

“Sounds awful.” Oda empathises, raising his glass to ingest the remnants of the brown-tinted liquid
in it. “How long will you stay in Yokohama?”

Dazai ponders his question slowly, even though he already knows the answer. There is something
indescribably pleasing in making someone so uptight as Ango waste unnecessary time. Ah, it’s not
that he’s uptight all the time. It’s more that he has a reason to be on guard at any given moment.
Strange, but Dazai does not mind whatever Ango’s agenda may be. He is aware that Ango is not
stupid enough to collapse the Port Mafia if he, for some reason, has the resources to attain such a
fruitless goal.

“Dunno. Mori’s got some top-secret agenda for me.” He says, a bored tone slipping into his voice.
“Ah, but I have to be back in Musutafu on Monday. For school. And other stuff to do with school.”

“Have fun.” Oda teases, only to be met with a betrayed face from the other.

“I’d much rather die. Or resume my very important mafia-related duties.”

“I’m sure. Try to make the most of it.” He says with a vaguely amused smile on his face. “Stop by
to see the kids this weekend. They’ve been asking about you, my elusive companion.”

“Aww, am I your best friend?”

As the three of them settle into conversation as if it a day hasn’t gone by, Dazai thinks this is where
he feels most at home. He’s not sentimental, not usually. Dazai begs Oda to take him home with
him (“Please, my house is just too far away! You wouldn’t make me trek across the city just to rest
my eyes? How cruel…”), to which he relents with little persuasion. Ango sighs, already used to the
common antics between the two. Oda hails a cab for the two of them and guides an unsteady Dazai
into it. He’s had a few too many drinks.
“I hate UA.” Dazai says abruptly while Oda fishes the key to his house out of his pockets.

“Yeah?” Oda prompts, easing the intoxicated boy to the small living room upstairs.

“Yeah,” Dazai repeats, looking up to Oda with his big brown eyes. “Do you ever hate being around
those kids? Because all your evil acts seem so much worse when compared to people living in the
light.”

Oda pauses, contemplative. Looking at Dazai, he forgets how young he is sometimes. Oda knows
that Dazai is deeply troubled, but he is not a victim in all aspects. Of course, it’s much too difficult
to discern the true motives and desires of the eccentric man. Occasionally there is a morbid spark
of interest in Dazai Osamu, but if Dazai wanted to tell him about his life, he would.

They’re simply friends. Oda admits it is a strange friendship. A 15-year-old boy and a 19-year-old
man, a mafia executive and a low-level grunt. One may say the single trait that they share is the bar
that they are fond of.

“Sometimes. I used to, but I’ve become familiar with the feeling. I’m happy that they haven’t had
to spill blood and that they can live without guilt.” Is what he settles on, waiting for the other’s
reaction.

“I wish I was as thoughtful as Odasaku.” Dazai hums, closing his eyes.

Oda takes it as an end to their conversation and makes his way to his own bedroom. If Dazai isn’t
gone by the morning, he hopes he’ll play with the kids for a while.

Dazai leaves before anyone wakes up, as expected. The embarrassment of asking such a raw
question burns his cheeks, but he’s always been open to Oda while intoxicated. It’s strange that
that man is the only person he seems to slip up around, but no matter.

He opens the office doors hastily, much unlike his usual hesitance to enter. Mori smiles at him
from his desk like the serpent he is.

“Oh Dazai, I’ve missed you dearly. Our time apart has been unbearable.” Mori can’t help but look
delighted at Dazai’s blatant disgust.

“Does the name Tenko Shimura ring any bells? All for One?” He demands.

“Possibly.” Mori serenely looks up at him, then back down to the copious amount of papers on his
desk, “It seems like you should be finding that out for yourself.”

“Don’t play dumb with me. Ah, maybe the heroes will help me if I drop those names off to them.
It’s a shame that you’re keeping things from your loyal dog.”

“Who says I’m hiding anything? A smart boy like you should be able to solve one little mystery.
Besides, I didn’t summon you just so you could throw a tantrum.” Mori says in that condescending
voice he knows Dazai hates. “There’s a traitor at UA. You’re not the only mole. I’ve heard that
you’ve met them, even.”

A traitor? He’s entertained that idea already, but knowing it’s true sends a shiver down his spine.
It’s a perfect plan, to be honest.

“Let’s play a game, Osamu. If you can figure out who the UA traitor is, I’ll tell you anything you
want to know about… All for One. And his subordinates. You won’t get any information out of
Chuuya-kun, so I would refrain from trying. Let’s keep this between us. Who knows what might
happen to poor Chuuya if he were to be compromised.”

Dazai twitches at the use of his given name. Only Mori is brave enough to use it, knowing how it
ticks Dazai off. He doesn’t like either his first or last name, but everyone with his surname is dead
anyways.

Mori sniffs out weakness like a rabid dog, so he is forbidden to display even the tiniest amount of
discomfort. If his face betrays him, he fears Mori will punish him until he is finally satisfied. The
cold caress of the man’s scalpel always seems to incite dull acceptance in the other, and on
occasion, fear.

“Ok. Is that all?”

“Hmm… no, I suppose not. Do swing by Honda-san in the weapon trade division, I believe she is
expecting some drops in Musutafu, which you’ll be more than happy to take charge of.”

“Or I might throw myself out the window.” Dazai suggests, a half-veiled threat.

“You’re not behaving very well.” Mori tuts, “What happened to all that discipline? Do you need to
relearn it? Hm, I hope not. Q wants to see you.”

Dazai leaves with a heavy heart his right eye burning in phantom pain. God, Mori puts him in such
a terrible mood. More terrible than usual. He debates visiting Q. He should probably induce more
loyalty from them, and conversations are usually a good way to start. Before heading down to the
basement they’re kept, he stops for a smoke break. He needs it to deal with that demon, anyways.

Q is smiling creepily, as per usual. When Dazai arrives, they light up in sinister joy.

“Mr Dazai! You came to visit, I’ve been so, so bored. Will you play with me?”

“Not today Q.” Dazai waves off, opting to sit down next to them tiredly, “Have you been
behaving? You know, I have lots of excess energy that could go into disciplining you.”

That’s a lie, of course. He never has much energy these days, but he can make an exception to
make sure they don’t let their ability run rampant. For a young child, they have such a sadistic
streak. But Q does remind Dazai of himself in some ways. Less smart, though. A devil
masquerading as a human. Someone completely and utterly isolated.

Dazai thinks it’ll be easier to just kill Q earlier than later, but Mori disagrees. Dazai gets the asset
of their ability, but they’re too unstable. When Dazai kills himself, who’s going to stop Q?
Certainly not him! Maybe Chuuya and Q will have an ‘epic battle’ after the kid murders the boss
himself.

“Yup!” Q says, popping the p, but there’s hidden fear in those eyes, satisfying Dazai. “I’ve been
doing very well. Will you ask the boss if Elise will play with me, then? Did you know that I really
want to hurt you, Mr Dazai?”

“I might ask him.” Dazai hums, knowing he won’t pass anything on to Mori. “Don’t get too
excited. I can overpower you easily.”

“But I’m cute!”

“Sure.”

The jobs he’s assigned in Musutafu are boring, as expected. He flicks through the reports and
information regarding it. It’s similar to odd jobs he’s already doing, so it’s not a change. He does
get a bit of joy out of the venture though, with Honda-san jumping at his every move. The
everlasting fear he produces in the mafia lingers, even when being away for weeks.

He looks into Mimic, breaking into the room where they keep documents relating to foreign
operations. Edgeshot agency, Order of the Clocktower… ah! A folder, suspiciously bare, with
information on Mimic. A group of ex-soldiers, war crimes. Nothing he doesn’t know. No quirks or
abilities are listed yet, but that could be the reason Mori is so invested. Potential recruits? No, they
seem too unified. And deranged.

He is about to make his way to Bar Lupin once again when Mori all of a sudden assigns him to
oversee a nighttime operation. How dreadful. Dazai ponders ditching work, but comes to the
conclusion that he wants to keep his image strong. He’s only been recently promoted, it would be a
shame for his division to start slacking because he’s new. Fear should be continuously input or it’ll
lose effect. Except Mori, Dazai guesses. His methods are much longer lasting, but much more
personal. Dazai doesn’t think he’d find much enjoyment in having an apprentice.

Meeting Mori was an experience, certainly. One that he looks back onto with disdain and shame.
The doctor caught him in such an emotional state, it was almost sorry.

They all call him inhuman. A devil, or monster. It is as if his existence is purely blasphemy. The
maids, the gardener. Mother, father. He doesn’t understand. He tries to smile, and please others,
but it only induces more fear.

No longer human.

It is what they call his ability. Mother screamed when he nullified her own ability, which allowed
her to persuade anyone to do anything. He’s not sure how it works because she’s never told him.
He can’t remember the last time she talked to him when it wasn’t to scream at him or order him
around.

When his ability was discovered, a bright blue light manifested as if from the heavens themselves.
Osamu thought it was beautiful, a terrifying force. Mother was frightened, clutching the spot on
her arm where she’d touched him as if she had been burned. The other party, influenced by her
ability, came to consciousness and left in a hurry of curses. According to her, they were business
partners, valuable ones too. She refused to touch him again.

So he tries to kill himself. Is there a point in living when he is unwanted? Living is much too
uninteresting for him already. Doctor Mori, the family doctor, fixes him right up with a smile that
seems slightly too cunning, too interested in the boy. Osamu can tell. He’s always been smart.

He tries again, but it appears that he is cursed. His body wracks up bandages, through the
constant injuries from Father (Mother won’t touch him. Never) and his own attempts. It only
continues to fuel the rumours of the monster child of the Dazai’s. Mother and father only hate him
more, doing anything they can to get rid of him. Mother tries to drown him when he’s eight
wearing gloves, but Father finds them both and screams at her. They’re always fighting.

“Boy, get back here!” Father growls, anger veiled behind a slurring voice.

Osamu stands upright, his brown eyes looking almost innocent compared to the knife clutched
behind his back. One he’d taken from the kitchen and snuck past the maids. It had been under his
bed for a week, slowly collecting dust. Osamu had almost forgotten. Forgotten the burning anger
from a single week ago when father struck him, one that ate up his soul until there was a burning
blank feeling of nothingness. He prefers the rage over this hollow, hollow feeling.
He can see it. His mother, his horrible mother all bloodied and bruised, still like a sculpture. Eyes
blown so wide they look like they’re about to pop out and roll onto the floor she’s on. Hands that
are poised to grab whatever used to be around her neck, which is now just mottled dark colours
that one could call an ugly painting. It isn’t unsettling, which is slightly unnerving. Father killed
her. It was bound to happen, he guesses. Both are violent creatures, and it seems father had had
enough.

Osamu has seen a few corpses in the decade he’s been alive. Father and mother have never been
good people. He hates them. Or, he thinks he used to. He can’t tell. But that makes sense.

He doesn’t care for his mother, truly. He’s going to kill father because he killed mother, because
it’s an opportunity. If it was revenge, it was less inhuman, right?

His little hands clutch the handle with more certainty than they should have, and he charges. He’s
read Doctor Mori’s medical books. He knows he has to aim for the carotid artery to kill father. He
will retaliate if he doesn’t, and Osamu doesn’t want to die. Not yet.

Father’s blood narrowly avoids most of Osamu, except his hands and socks and pant legs. His
pants are deep blue, it’s barely noticeable. He sits, reading a book silently until he knows Father is
completely dead.

He takes the knife and puts it into a small satchel. Then, he leaves without looking back. There’s a
man who can take away quirks: supernatural abilities not unlike his own. Osamu is overjoyed for
the first time and makes his way to the faded address somewhere in Musutafu where the man is
said to be. He shoves his bloodied hands in his pockets in hopes no one notices the bloody and
beaten little boy that makes his way through the city like a rat in the sewers.

The man walks away, hand in hand with another boy. He was so close- but his legs are giving out
and his eyes are closing to the point where the two of them are just blurs down the alleyway. He
tries to cry out, to scream. But his voice is rusty with disuse and he can only croak as the numb
feeling of emptiness hits him once again like a ton of bricks.

Mori finds him bloody, smoking a cigarette stolen from father. The doctor knows it is not the first
time he’s smoked, and at such a young age.

“Oh dear, this doesn’t look good.” Mori tuts, undeterred by the silent and mourning boy. “Come
Osamu, I have a spare room in my clinic just for you. Unless you would rather stay here and have
the police question you?”

Osamu follows cautiously. Doctor Mori is nice. Not nice, but he acts nice.

And it’s never nice. Doctor Mori becomes Mori, the man who he frequently runs away from. But
Mori has a fascinating interest in the boy and his warped ability. The sheer lack of humanity
running through his blood. He pries under his skin, and experiments and experiments. They spend
the next few years with their fates entangled. Osamu runs, Mori finds him. He tries to die, Mori
stitches him back up. It’s a game on the edge of a cliff, a game of cat and mouse.

And at 14, Mori murders the boss of the Port Mafia and takes his place. Osamu becomes Dazai. He
joins the mafia, partly due to Mori’s persuasion and partly because he wonders if the anger from
all those years ago will come back. If he were to find a reason to live, the mafia seems perfect for
someone like Dazai.

Dazai returns to his apartment; no sightings of Chuuya over the weekend, no time to see Oda. With
internships tomorrow, he’s looking forward to a final long drink. He slides the door open, only to
 be greeted by someone unexpected.

“Dazai, care to indulge me in a game of chess?” The voice questions, lazy and calculated
simultaneously.

“Dostoyevsky? What the fuck, I thought you were in St Petersburg.”

Chapter End Notes

guys... who do you think the traitor is...

(I know there's a canon traitor but I may not write it according to canon sooo)
 Russians...
Chapter Summary

START OF INTERNSHIPS!?!> YESS

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

“My surname? What happened to Fyodor, or Fedya?” Fyodor taunts with a dangerous smile still
painted onto his face. “St Petersburg. I was quite indifferent to the city, but the low temperatures
were unsatisfying. I came here to ask you to join an uprising group I have made plans to come
about in a few years: The Decay of Angels.”

“Ugh, boring.” Dazai gags, pointing his gun at the other. “I’m not interested in world domination,
you know that! Or have you already forgotten everything about me?”

He slowly looks over his small apartment, to which he finds nothing is out of place. It is as if
Fyodor didn’t even step anywhere, instead simply appearing out of thin air like he was summoned.
Sighing, he sits down across from the set-up chess board on his coffee table. God knows where
Fyodor found it. Next to the man is a small duffle bag, which Dazai hopes is not a dead body.

“You’re correct. As a token of my gratitude for allowing me to stay here, I have prepared some
tea.” The Russian offers, pulling out a fine china teapot and cups (Dazai doesn’t actually own more
than one cup) from under the table, just out of his sight.

“Is it poisoned?”

“Perhaps. Taste it to find out.”

Dazai ponders his options. On one hand, it may lead to a painless death! On the other, it’ll
probably be some agonizing concoction that will take forever to kill him. Fedya is never that nice
to him.

“Tough choice. I’ll pass.” He says, moving the first chess piece.

He’s set up to play white, a generous gesture from the other. Fyodor never passes on the chance to
play first, unless he’s going to ask something of Dazai.

“Might you be hiding an extra room for my accommodation?” Fyodor moves his pawn to E5.
“Although, I have no objections to sleeping beside you.”

Dazai offers him an amused smile. “What if I murder you in your sleep? It would be so appealing
to see Fyodor dead and bloodied.”

“You wouldn’t make a mess in your own apartment. It’s too impractical to move apartments
without being recognised as a student of UA.”

“Ahh, you caught me. Why are you even staying? I’ve already declined the offer for the ragtag
group of terrorists.”
“I missed your company.” He states and Dazai gives him a deadpan stare at the blatant lie.

Fyodor and Dazai do not miss one another. Appreciation and friendship are vastly different
leagues, and the two of them have a shared understanding and sense of solidarity. They have come
to the understanding that eventually their goals will clash and they will become great threats to
each other.

Fyodor has still tried to kill Dazai, knowing he’s a threat. Vice versa, Dazai occasionally attempts
to murder the other boy. Of course, it is always fruitless. He knows that Fyodor would never let
himself die unless it is for a greater cause.

The stark difference between the two is that Fyodor is fueled to change the world, and Dazai would
rather stop living in the world altogether. It is the one thing they are simply not able to understand
about each other.

“I am sort of occupied at the moment by running from secret services. So I thought if I tracked you
down and stayed in this inconspicuous apartment I would find the opportunity to kill some time.”
He explains.

“How exciting! A big bad criminal wanting to take shelter with a UA student like me? Scandalous,
isn’t it?”

Fyodor looks at him blankly, and Dazai makes no move to do anything but continue the chess
game. If he’s going to be all difficult, then two can play that game. Fyodor can kill him here, but he
won’t escape. Dazai has things set up that if he is murdered in his apartment, the security cameras
will be triggered in a radius around it.

It is alarmingly obvious to Dazai: His dear Fedya has another agenda here in Musutafu. Fyodor is
simultaneously working on several ploys at all times, so it’s relatively unsurprising. But Fyodor is
not one to just give away his pursuits. If he didn’t want to be found, he could easily achieve it
without adding Dazai into the equation. The only plausible answer is that Dazai is somehow
involved now.

And isn’t that interesting? Fyodor doesn’t waste Dazai’s time, unlike others, he is truly a
fascinating monster.

“Make yourself at home, demon.”

Living with Fyodor is, unnerving. At least now that Dazai is aware that the teenager has an
objective, it actually lifts a weight off his chest. The probability of Fyodor seriously attempting to
murder Dazai has dropped significantly, now lying around 15%. He’s got a sadistic streak though,
so he might just try to kill him to keep him on his toes. He does make him pour the tea down the
sink though.

And it’s only been a few hours too. Fyodor chats to him about his time in St Petersburg, and the
cold weather. He also discusses some random elaborate plans he put together to ‘purge evil’.
Whatever that’s supposed to mean. And after a few hours, Dazai seriously considers killing
Fyodor. He’s almost giddy with joy when he remembers he has to go to internships for the entire
week.

But before that, he has a whole night. Dazai gives Fyodor a kitchen pot as his pillow and a curtain
as a blanket. He politely refuses, instead insisting he’s already brought sleeping arrangements.
Fine, be mysterious.
He crawls over to his little corner, instructing Fyodor to sleep as far away from him as he can. His
sleep is relatively normal, which includes waking up multiple times during the night. He never
seems to feel particularly rested most nights. Except for those peculiar nights where he sleeps and
dreams of nothing but pitch black. His favourite type of sleep, if he had to choose.

So with a very enthusiastic wave at five in the morning and a failed attempt to bludgeon that
demon to death with his only pot, he sends himself off with a duffel bag similar to the one the
demon has with him (he still hopes it isn’t a dead body. Or that he disposes of it before he gets
back), with the essentials and a bottle of half-drunken whiskey thrown carelessly in.

They’re supposed to meet at seven at UA’s front gates to do a final safety check before travelling
to their respective hero agencies. Dazai still doesn’t know if he’s even leaving his house, but all
students were told to pack a week's worth of clothes. Since Aizawa hasn’t contacted him for
anything in particular, he assumes he’ll be staying… somewhere.

The reason for leaving so early lies in the fact he wants to spend some time alone before
internships. Since Fyodor showed up out of the blue, it seems that time to himself is simply
impossible. Dazai spots a quaint park bench to claim, throwing his bag under it so he can pull his
legs up to his chest on it. He lights his first cigarette of the day, letting the smoke waft up into the
pristine air. He buries his nose into his blue scarf. Once he gets through one, he just sits looking at
the sky. Then, he busies himself with his favourite book: Suicide for dummies. A fantastic read.

He drags his feet down the sidewalk to UA in its shining glory. There, his classmates are mostly all
gathered together excitedly. He waits towards the back as Aizawa tells them strictly not to cause
trouble, to listen to their mentors, yadda yadda. He briefly wonders who the traitor is again.

If he’s ruling people out by people he knows, he is only acquainted with three people outside his
class. He’s confident it’s not Hishiro, her mannerisms are unguarded and untrained. If she were a
villain she would be warier toward him. Mei and Shinou are both first-year students in UA that
he’s had contact with. Shinsou obviously does have a quirk useful for villainy, but with how he
holds himself it seems he is incredibly opposed to any type of criminal activity because of the
quirk discrimination he’s faced. There’s a probability that it is only a lie to offput others, so he
can’t cross Shinsou off completely. The fact that he’s attempting to transfer to the hero course then
seems counterproductive for a villain. It draws too much attention. He’s really not thinking the
traitor is that guy.

And Mei, who is barely an acquaintance. Since she’s so focused on popularity and other goals, it
appears that she wouldn’t become a traitor. If one wanted to plant a mole, it would be best to put
them either in the hero course or general education. Other courses are too focused on other things
to be useful.

So that leaves class 1-A. One of his classmates is feeding information to the League of Villains.
The most logical course of action is to find anyone standing out in particular, and if no one catches
his eye, to pick them off one by one until he is left with the most probable answer. School during
internships will be more fun when he knows he’s up against another criminal. How fun.

Dazai thinks they’re starting internships way too fast, but experience is the best way of learning.
Apparently, they won’t be doing much actual combat, with many agencies focusing on the other
aspects of heroism like publicity. Aizawa most likely will teach very combat oriented, considering
he’s an underground hero.

When Aizawa dismisses all of them to make their way to their internships, Dazai hangs back
staring intently at the man. Then he just starts walking away with no warning. Dazai jogs to catch
up to him, raising his eyebrows at his exhausted look.
“Where are we going Aizawa-sensei?” Dazai quizzes.

“UA. We’ll be training during the afternoon and you’ll be shadowing me during the night, with the
exception of today. Combat is your weakest point, so that is the area I will be teaching you in.” He
assesses.

Dazai is sure he’ll die by the end of the week by how horrible that sounds. Some exercise followed
by more exercise. Dreadful. At this point, he may come crawling back to Fedya. He orders Dazai to
change into something light and meet him at the gyms. Being the complacent person he is, Dazai
follows the instructions. He finds some track pants at the bottom of his bag and a short sleeve shirt.
He throws on a red jacket that he thinks is Chuuya’s and makes his way to Aizawa who is lying in
his yellow sleeping bag.

The man raises his eyebrows at the jacket. It’s moulin rouge themed. Actually, he has no idea if it’s
Chuuya’s. The play doesn’t seem like something he’d watch.

“Do you have any formal training?” Aizawa asks him, to which Dazai nods. “Ok, try to punch my
face. I’m going to measure your ability so we can further it.”

No warmups? Wow. Dazai launches himself at the man, trying to embrace his inner Chuuya.
Chuuya brawls like a street rat, with the grace of a chicken. Dazai was never trained properly in
combat, but his way is distinctly different to street fighting. Dazai doesn’t fight, only using it as a
last resort. He’s a dirty fighter when he does though. Deception and careful planning to match his
agile body help him get through them.

Mori taught him to use his body however he can to obtain his goals.

Aizawa is large but doesn’t have the same quick feet as Dazai does. He grabs onto his tracksuit but
to no avail, Aizawa doesn’t tumble to the floor. He moves to flip the boy over onto his stomach,
which Dazai takes full force. He gags as he hits the hard mat. Before Aizawa can move again,
Dazai rolls behind him and tugs on his hair. His head comes flying backwards, and Dazai takes the
opportunity to thrust his arms around his neck and pull. The two crash to the ground, and Dazai
then wraps his legs around the other’s torso.

Aizawa seems to be not taking the fight seriously. Dazai is sure the man could easily overpower
his moves since he’s lacking in physical fitness. Either way, he aims for a punch straight into his
face. Aizawa sends him a creepy smile after the punch, then he goes slack and sits up to face him.
Dazai, sensing the fight is done, also sits back on the mat.

“You reek of smoke.” Aizawa accuses offhandedly.

Dazai freezes for a second before smoothening out his expression so it’s neutral. He’s so used to
smoking where it’s acceptable socially, that he forgets that teenagers shouldn’t have the scent of
tobacco ingrained into him and all his clothes. He quickly tries to deflect.

“Well, I tried this new form of yoga, involving these complex burning rituals. My soul is feeling
quite feathery right now. 10/10. ”

“I don’t see the logic in lying to me.”

“You don’t believe your student?! Your favourite, too!” Dazai gasps.

Aizawa furrows his brows but says nothing more. Not even to deny the notion of favouritism, but
Dazai thinks it’s probably not because he’s actually a favourite. Instead, he walks over to a plain
box and pulls out some equipment that appears to be used for warmups.
“As I have observed from that, you are severely lacking muscle throughout your body. I wouldn’t
put it past malnutrition.” He addresses, eyeing Dazai warily which makes him want to curl up
under his gaze. “We’ll get together some sort of diet plan, something loose but that will cover the
essentials. You appear to have some knowledge of combat and some experience, but we’ll still
cover that. I can’t build up muscle with only a week, so we’ll focus on short-term things and
develop some sort of schedule. Do you know what type of hero you want to be? With your quirk,
you may want to go underground like I am.”

“Ah.. good one sensei.” Dazai laughs, ignoring the deadpan stare from the other. “Shouldn’t I be
worrying about that later? It’s been only a month or so of school.”

“Consider your options.” Is all he says before he starts to instruct the correct ways to throw
punches.

Dazai can’t help but shiver when Aizawa touches him to adjust his posture. Although he does not
look or act similar to Mori, he can’t help but expect cold, calculating eyes that praise him
mockingly. But Aizawa isn’t like that. Mori wouldn’t sacrifice himself for his students or take the
time to help them. Mori only acts based on what benefits him, and if raising a demon is what he
has to do to accomplish his goals, then he’s achieved it.

It’s too dangerous to have such one-on-one time with a hero. But being taught properly does have
its advantages, unfortunately. All he has to do is get through one week, that’ll better his ability to
run a mafia. Or become a hero…

“Yield.” Aizawa cautions as he holds Dazai’s arm into the mat.

He clenches his teeth, still attempting to struggle.

“Yield!” He warns again.

Dazai simply gives him a gritty smile and continues to twist against his hold. Does it really matter
if he gets hurt? Just a little bit more- if he can move his body slightly, he can shove his foot under
the black-haired man and push him off balance. His arm is starting to burn, ouch. Just when he’s
about to attempt a risky move, Aizawa sighs, signalling a stop to the spar and letting up.

“Why didn’t you yield? You were in no position to move without injuring yourself.”

“It was only a little pain, Aizawa-sensei.” Dazai smiles at him like he’s about to explain something
fundamentally obvious, then tacks on, “I had a strategy in mind too, I would have been able to get
out of it.”

“Not without twisting something important. Look, I don’t want to damage your body. It’s illogical
to have you badly injured when recovery girl is unable to use her quirk on you.”

Injury? He can take a little pain, he’s not a little kid. Mori hits harder, even Chuuya can. Aizawa
must think of him as a frail poor boy like he used to be. No, he's different now. He’s stronger.

“I’m not weak. I can take it.” Dazai snarls.

“It’s not a matter of taking it, if you get hurt you need to recover. Heroes can’t be useful if they
don’t pay attention to their own well-being. You’ll just die one day.” He states emotionlessly as he
stares straight at the younger boy.

Lucky he’s not going to be a hero then. Work would be so much harder if he tried to keep himself
injury-free all the time.
 “Great. I’m getting chills, this is so exciting!”

“What?”

“I’m messing with you. Are we done yet? I’m so tired I think my limbs will fall off. Do you think
that happens to people?” Dazai evades.

Aizawa sighs and tells him to change into something casual. Dazai huffs and walks to the
changeroom. He skips in, taking revelation in the cool shower that follows. Ugh, then he has to
rewrap all his bandages. It takes him forever, but the idea of an irritated Aizawa brings glee into
Dazai’s mind. He walks out to Aizawa waiting on some steps.

“What are we doing now?” He asks cheerily, easily catching the energy bar he is tossed.

“You ask too many questions. Back to my apartment. You’ll be staying there, by the way.” He
explains, much to Dazai’s surprise.

Living with Aizawa for a week? A nightmare. The man looks like he can’t cook, or even has a
house. Well, Dazai can’t cook either, so someone is going to have to provide for them. On the other
hand, Dazai doesn’t particularly care if he starves to death. Aizawa looks at the energy bar and
then back and him expectantly. Dazai pretends to not notice.

“Eat the bar. You need to replenish your energy until we drop in to buy lunch.”

“Ah, I’m afraid I had lots for breakfast. Plus, I wouldn’t want to waste your precious food, take it! I
insist, Aizawa-sensei!” Dazai grins slyly as he pushes the bar into his hands.

Aizawa sceptically examines him and his refusal to take the food. He could just hate energy bars,
or maybe it’s poisoned. Aizawa quickens his pace. They drop by some cafe and when Aizawa asks
what he wants, Dazai shrugs. The hero's apartment is shockingly nice, with actual decorations.
Some band and artist posters. It even has a record player.

It's suspicious. Does Aizawa have a roommate? Is he in a relationship?! No…

“Sensei, are you dating anyone?” He boldly asks.

“I’m married, actually. My partner will be home this afternoon. Don’t cause trouble.”

“Shocking.”

“Go unpack your bag. It’s the room down the hallway to the left. I’ll call you out for lunch.”

Dazai sighs when he closes the door, rubbing at his already sore shoulder. Wow, even the guest
room is nice. Whoever decorated it needs to be complimented.

The most interesting thing during internships will be finding out who Aizawa’s mystery partner is.
(He has a few suspicions.) Maybe he’ll blackmail him when he finds out. Ah, he’s going to be so
sore by the end of the week.

Chapter End Notes

guys cmon... dont be shy... who do you think the UA traitor will be? it may not follow
canon..
 Roof hopping
Chapter Summary

internships!

“Yamada-sensei? You’re Aizawa’s mysterious partner?” Dazai asks with wide eyes.

“Wouldn’t expect it, right? Shouta’s so aloof all the time, but I swear he’s such a good husband.
Oh! So you’re the student staying with us then? He only bothered to mention he took on an intern
yesterday!” He complains, nudging the Aizawa softly in the ribs.

“Hizashi, don’t say things like that around my student.” Aizawa mutters.

Ohoho, is he embarrassed? His stoic teacher gives the blonde a small but pointed smile.

“So on-brand for Sensei.” He nods in agreement. “He should learn from you.”

“Just drop the formalities this week. It’s too weird being addressed as a teacher in my own home.”
Aizawa interrupts, effectively splitting up Dazai and Yamada’s conversation.

Yamada agrees exuberantly, ushering them to the dinner table. To Dazai’s mortification, they’re
going to eat together. It’s like a family dinner, except Dazai should not be here. He doesn’t think
he’s ever had a family dinner in his life, and his dinners with Mori are certainly unpleasant.

Aizawa and Yamada chat about their day, bantering back and forth casually. He doesn’t want to
eat, not really.

Both of them glance at him and his plate every few seconds, but Aizawa is much less subtle.

“When are we going on our patrol?” Dazai asks, only to try to draw attention away from the food
he’s been pushing around on his plate.

“Soon.”

“Sounds like I should get ready then! Something loose and dark, right? No problem!” Dazai
abruptly stands and brings his dish to the sink. “Thanks for the food.”

“Are you sure you’re full? You didn’t eat that much…” Yamada trails his eyes over Dazai’s figure
with a contemplative frown.

He wraps his arms around himself uneasily, turning himself away from their view. “Yep.”

Dazai scurries to his room, eager to change. Unsurprisingly, most of his duffel bag is stuffed with
bandage rolls. He has his gun, that one mug from Oda’s kids and random items of clothing. Not
many belongings to be honest. He did debate bringing his computer but dedicated in the end that he
didn’t want to carry that thing around. On second thought, now that Fyodor is in his apartment he’s
regretting it. Who knows what he could have done already? Hmm.. something dark and loose. His
hero outfit? May as well wear it, considering he packed it.
After changing, he sits on the floor and continues where he left off in the manual to suicide. This
one’s got something to do with snapping his spine in half by sitting in a barrel. Sounds too difficult.
Eventually, Aizawa knocks on Dazai’s door, asking if he’s ready to go. Dazai throws the book to a
corner somewhere and happily skips along. Aizawa is dressed in his usual tracksuit and Dazai
wonders if he actually wears anything besides that.

He leads him out the front door and once they’re a short walk away, they climb up a roof. He might
take the chance to jump off a particularly high building if the opportunity arises. Aizawa makes
him stay close behind, guiding his technique while climbing and jumping through commentary and
light touches where he can.

Dazai shadows Aizawa’s nighttime hero patrol. He has to say, jumping on rooftops is quite a
hobby. Aizawa abruptly drops to the fire escape, climbing down swiftly. Dazai follows, albeit
more lazily. There are no criminals in sight, Aizawa obviously just wants to keep him on his toes.
His feet hit the ground with an almost lack of sound, feathery and agile.

As they make their way through grubby backstreets with trash bags littering them, an alarm catches
their attention. It’s coming from a block away to their left, Dazai notes. By the sound of it, it’s
relatively cheap. Cheap alarms have a more grating sound to them in comparison to high-end alarm
systems that have a distinct blare that covers more space. There’s also a commotion that he can
vaguely hear, which means it has to be open. That rules out businesses like cafes. The most logical
answer is a convenience store of some sort that is easy to break into. Some don’t even have alarms
installed if the company is poor. The most likely reason is a break-in, a robbery.

Aizawa takes off toward the noise, barking out some orders to Dazai that he’s not paying attention
to. He chases after the hero, arriving at the newly identified convenience store. He can see two
people threatening a cashier and one other person who looks to be hiding.

His teacher quickly subdues one, deftly pulling them closer with his scarf. His hand tightens
threateningly as the other spins around. He’s panicked, judging by the look in his eyes and his
jittery body movements. He didn’t want to rob the bank from the start. Desperation? He has no
visible quirk, in comparison to the tangled-up woman in Aizawa’s capture weapon. The woman’s
eyes seem to have a gooey substance secreting from the aqueous humour from what Dazai can tell.
Potentially acidic or poisonous. He’s studied human anatomy very well. Her teeth are clenched to
seem almost defiant even though she can’t move from Aizawa’s weapon.

The man shakily pulls out a gun and aims it straight at Aizawa. It’s probably a good time to make
his move. Dazai tiptoes around the isles, waving to the other businessman- in a suit, his body
posture indicates fear. The woman spots him first, yelling at the other man.

“Behind you, Kojiro!” She shrieks, suddenly trying to use her quirk again.

The man, now dubbed Kojiro, spins around frantically and plants his foot forward to try to steady
himself. The gun is now staring down Dazai, how fun. Aizawa’s eyes widen as he loosens his grip
slightly on his weapon. The woman tries to take it as a chance to escape, but Aizawa quickly
corrects his mistakes. A real professional.

“This isn’t what I’d expect for a honeymoon. What an interesting couple!”

Both freeze and look toward him, but that’s all Dazai needs. He throws himself at the gun, tackling
Kojiro to the ground, one hand on his gun and the other on his wrists, to nullify whatever quirk he
has.

“How.. did you know that we’re married?” He shakily asks.

Dazai smiles and puts a finger on his cheek. “Hmm, it was just too easy. Your wedding rings,
they’re from the same label, a cheap one at that. They’re also relatively new. A robbery to salvage
a failed marriage?”

Kojiro looks away steadily, his answer was painfully obvious. How tragic.

Aizawa sighs, holding the woman in handcuffs and carefully approaching the man. He makes
quick work of tying them up.

“Mackerel, keep these two in place until the police arrive. I’ll collect the cashier for a witness
report.”

“Sure thing! Oh, there’s also a businessman in the second aisle at the back. He’s uninjured
though.” Dazai advises before going back to looking at the couple.

His hero name is hilarious. Having the stoic Aizawa call him Mackerel with a straight face! After
the police come and take their statements, they resume their patrol. That robbery is the most
interesting part of the night. All Dazai comes across are drunken brawls and attempted muggings,
with each time his teacher telling him something along the lines of ‘don’t engage’ that he
sometimes obeys. Listening to Aizawa becomes boring after a while.

By around two in the morning, they’re on their way back to the apartment, jumping from rooftop to
rooftop once again. They creep back into the dark apartment and Aizawa orders Dazai to go to
sleep. Apparently, they’re going to head to UA bright and early.

He walks out of his room in the morning to find his teachers together. Yamada is sitting on one of
the stools near the kitchen island with Aizawa’s arms wrapped around his waist and chin resting on
his shoulder. The blonde has a book written in English in his hands and normal-looking glasses.
Actually, he looks kind of mundane without his hero stuff on. There’s a nice breakfast of yoghurt
and toast that it seems they’re sharing sitting beside them.

It’s sickenly domestic. Dazai tries to tiptoe back into his room to pretend he’s still asleep but fails
horribly after he trips over a loose piece of bandage and goes crashing to the ground. He almost
smashes the mug in his hands, but saves it last minute by letting his head crash onto the ground
instead of his arm.

Aizawa pops his head around the kitchen to look at Dazai. Yamada follows curiously, already
reaching out to pluck the not broken mug from Dazai’s extended hand.

“Good morning!” Dazai chirps from his tangle of limbs.

“Morning…” Aizawa grouches at the same time that Yamada sings a much more cheerful
‘Morning!’.

Dazai looks around, noticing Yamada’s hero equipment splayed across the table. Oh yeah, he’s
still got classes to teach, unlike Aizawa. Agh, what time even is it? Seven?

“Eat something and get changed. We’re driving to UA in twenty minutes.” Aizawa informs him.

“We’ve got a few breakfast items up in the cupboard to the right.” Yamada gestures with his right
hand, the left placed firmly on his husband’s hair, combing through it.

Aizawa closes his eyes at the motion. Dazai quickly turns away, ready to eat. Breakfast is terrible.
Worst meal of the day, if he had to choose. Dazai peeks into the cupboard. Sure enough, there is
quite a wide assortment. He lands upon some bread, taking a slice out before realising he has no
idea where the plates are. He checks the drawers next to it, then the next ones over before finally
finding them right near the fridge.

Dazai stands in the middle of the kitchen with a single slice of bread with no toppings (he quite
likes the taste of plain white bread, surprisingly), contemplating where he should sit to eat this
delicious breakfast.

Wait.

“Do I have to pay for the food I eat?” Dazai asks aloud, in hopes someone will reply.

Yamada, being the lifesaver he is, replies from somewhere else.

“Of course not! Don’t worry about the costs, Shouta already agreed to cover everything.” He
assures.

Hm. He decides to just stand where he is and eat fast. When he finishes, he packs it into the empty
dishwasher. Nobody said he can’t be polite. Dazai only has bad house etiquette when it’s at
Chuuya’s because he’s Chuuya. Or whenever he’s living in the same space as Mori, but that makes
sense because Mori deserves it.

Aizawa knocks on his door telling him to hurry up, to which Dazai hustles out of his door only a
minute or so later. They all get into the couple’s car. It’s a bright red colour, it seems to align with
Yamada’s tastes. Dazai’s not sure how he convinced someone like Aizawa to purchase it. Dazai
glances at Aizawa who seems to be sleeping upright.

On second thought, Aizawa won’t care enough as long as it’s functional. Yamada idly hums to
songs running through the car speakers while Dazai stares out the window aimlessly. They arrive
at UA and they part ways, Aizawa and Dazai making their way to the gym. According to Aizawa,
they’re going to be adding parkour too to their little schedule.

There are these really tall rock walls in the corner of the room that Aizawa forces Dazai to go up.
Something about testing climbing ability to see what they can do while they’re out on patrol. Dazai
thinks it’s just an excuse to torture him.

“Do I have to wear a harness? They’re so ugly.” Dazai complains, gesturing to the bundle of straps

“Yes, now hurry up.”

He sighs dramatically, harnessing himself up. Rock walls are boring. Dazai expertly clambers up
the wall as gracefully as one can. At one point he feels his left foot slip and he loses his footing for
a second, before thankfully hanging on from his arms and swinging his foot onto a more grippable
fake rock. Soon after, he reaches the top.

“Sensei, do you think I’ll die if I fall on my head from up here?”

“Don’t test it. Jump off when I tell you to, I’ll lower you down slowly. Do not undo the harness.”
He stresses, eyeing Dazai wearily.

“Boring.”

Aizawa sighs.

Parkour is much more enjoyable than rock walls. His lean body is good for jumping and swinging,
although his core muscles are lacking. Aizawa notices this clearly and tries to teach Dazai moves
more suited to his physique. Some stuff to do with propelling himself using the environment
around him.

Aizawa sends him off to the cafeteria to eat lunch with the rest of the cohort and instructs him to
come to find him in the staff room later. Dazai agrees eagerly. He can’t wait to take a break. He
sneaks out to his little smoking spot instead of getting lunch because he hasn’t had the ability to do
it when he’s in two pro heroes apartments. It's like living under constant surveillance. He blanches
at the idea of doing things like this full-time. No thanks.

And once again Dazai gets beaten up by Aizawa until he finally decides he’s tired enough to take a
break. Not tired enough to get a cab home though… His teacher makes him walk the whole twenty
minutes. He’s advised to ‘take a nap or whatever’ until dinner. Dazai takes the opportunity to have
a drink out of his favourite mug.

He dresses up into his hero outfit for the second night and makes his way outside similar to the day
before. Aizawa’s patrol route is usually a loose area to cover, but it’s been cut down due to having
an intern.

Dazai follows Aizawa deftly as they run, boots trodding silently. He’s always had the skill to be
quiet, mostly learned from his childhood. It’s hard to sneak around Mori. The doctor has always
possessed an uncanny ability to track him down, just like that one day. It only served to spite Dazai
in finding more ways to navigate Mori’s clinic and the area around it, though, but now he knows
the streets of Yokohama alarmingly well.

The man ahead of Dazai slows down, crouching onto one knee. Dazai follows and squats behind
him, eager to find out what he’s looking for. Following Aizawa’s line of vision, he spots a brawl.
At first glance, it looks just like a drunk fight, but when he observes the people closer, a good look
at their clothing gives away they’re a part of some sort of business. Especially with the
coordination between parties.

“I’m going down there to break it up. Don’t draw unwanted attention to yourself.” Aizawa orders.

Dazai is content to watch as Aizawa swings down to deal with them until they actually start to get a
few well-placed hits in. Aizawa’s sleeve is slashed up and he’s been activating his quirk for way
too long. All of their quirks are minor except for one of the guys with a fire-breathing quirk that
could definitely roast his teacher if he lets his guard down.

Dazai sighs, sliding down the ladder rail to unsheath one of his knives. He jumps into the fray,
working alongside Aizawa but not hindering him. Dazai knows he’s less useful in a situation like
this, without his gun. That’s ok. His aim is the fire breather, if he can choke him unconscious that’s
one less person to deal with.

A woman comes up behind Dazai and digs their boot into his back, making him stumble and
swerve around to strike blindly in an attempt to distract the attacker. He nicks her collarbone
lightly. He rolls around another one to stab the fire-breather in the leg. It’s somewhere non-fatal,
with the intent to shock and distract him rather than hurt him. When his eyes trail downwards,
Dazai kicks him behind his knees and forces him to Dazai’s own level. They both lean against a
wall, and with Dazai both nullifying and choking him, he slowly loses oxygen. How weak. People
who rely on their abilities are so pathetic.

He slumps to the floor. Dazai gags him with something not flammable from the ground nearby and
ties his hands. He crouches around the ongoing fight, observing it. Aizawa’s tired, but so are the
others by the looks of their panting frames. There are four other individuals, clad in black to hide
their identity. Part of an organised criminal organisation? Two of them are slumped on the ground,
with two others fighting Aizawa.

Dazai shadows the hero, leading the weaker-looking of the two left to his attention. He’s got a nice-
looking dagger clutched in his hand. Judging by the way he’s holding it, he’s relatively new to the
organisation. The knife handle is specially displayed as a symbol of the organisation. It’s curved
ever so slightly, but the fingers of the man seem to shift around every few seconds. But he’s not
new to fights in general, but the type of fighting that he is used to is not anything like this.

He launches toward Dazai impulsively, tipping the younger boy off balance. As he’s falling, the
other’s knife meets his chest. It barely hurts, but a bit of blood darkens his grey shirt. The man
sneers satisfied. Dazai retaliates by kicking them in the balls from his position on the ground. He
goes down far too easily, with Dazai digging his boots into his stomach for further retaliation. The
straining of his muscles puts more pressure on his chest.

Aizawa’s already finished with the other. The distance sound of police sirens makes Dazai shift
uncomfortably, even if they’re not there for him. Aizawa takes a glance at him and then double
takes, scowling at the rip in his shirt.

“We’re going back early today.” Aizawa decides abruptly

“Alrighty!” Dazai walks alongside him carefully.

They arrive back barely past midnight, a stark contrast to the day before. Yamada walks into the
hallway blearily, rubbing his eyes.

“Shouta? Dazai? What are you two doing back so early?” He asks before zoning in on Dazai’s
bleeding chest. “Oh dear, what happened?”

Aizawa sighs heavily while Dazai just gives him a remorseful smile.

“Dazai got nicked during a fight I told him to not get involved in.” He said pointedly.

“Sorry, Aizawa!” He says unapologetically. “You told me to not draw unwanted attention, and I
didn’t. Not really. Plus, it was you up against five.”

“Must you get through one day without causing trouble? Take off your shirt, We need to treat that.”

“It looks painful, let us help.” Yamada chimes in, a steady hand leading him to the couch

“Oh, this? No no, I couldn’t trouble you with such a mundane task.” He refutes uncomfortably.

“I’m serious Dazai. I don’t care about whatever teen complex you have about not accepting help.
Injuries like those can become infected.”

Dazai thinks he’d rather die than take his shirt off in front of them.

“I’ll do it myself.” He argues.

“You’re a child. You don’t have to deal with things like this.” Aizawa counters angrily.

“I’m not a-” Dazai cuts himself off. “Your concern is unwarranted. I have adequate medical
knowledge, I swear. I grew up around a doctor. ”

“I- No, that’s not what I mean.” Aizawa exhales. “You shouldn’t have to treat your own injuries.”

“Sorry listener, it’s either us or Recovery Girl, a real medical professional that can help.” Yamada
empathically says.

Mori is a medical professional too, but the idea of him touching Dazai sends shivers down his
spine. His eye aches at the prospect of Mori treating him. Although it looks fine, it’s permanently
messed up. He never wants to meet Recovery girl if he can help it.

It’s terrible. There’s no way to get them to say no unless he murders them or something. And then
Mori would murder him. An endless cycle of murder.

“You really want to see under my shirt? Scandalous!” He tries a last-ditch attempt to deflect, but
their faces are still serious. “Alright. Just the wound area, right?

He takes a long and heavy sigh before lifting up his shirt. Yamada already has the medical kit
beside him, waiting.

The both of them pause, staring at Dazai. He’s not insecure about his body, far from it. It's just
different when two authority figures on the right side of the law are looking at his completely
bandaged upper body. Nobody really cares in the mafia. They’ve got other things to do, no time to
concern themselves with him and his issues.

There’s no way they’re not going to bring it up. Dazai waits for the questions and accusations, but
there’s only a light frown on Yamada’s face as he begins to inspect the wound, carefully not to
remove any more bandages than necessary.

They work in almost unsettling sync, with Aizawa passing out the correct equipment and supplies
and Yamada working on the wound. From what he can tell, it’s not deep enough to warrant
stitches. Just bandages, gauze and disinfectant, which is pretty close to what regularly goes on his
chest.

The silence is slightly awkward. He tries to avoid their gaze, searching the walls for anything
remotely more interesting that the slight sting of alcohol wipes. A clock, random band posters that
he’s not a fan of, a photo of them from high school? That’s more interesting, actually. He squints to
see an obvious Aizawa and Yamada, but also a blue-haired teen in the middle with hair that looks
like it’s floating. Like a cloud, perhaps.

He’s not in the other photos on the wall, or at least the ones where the couple is more grown up.
Dead? Possibly a friend who died during their time at UA. How tragic, really.

Aizawa clears his throat, steering Dazai out of his thoughts. Yamada has a roll of bandages in his
hands, presumably to let Dazai rebandage himself. It’s a thoughtful gesture, considering he
probably has more experience with bandaging people than the two of them.

“We’ll talk about all those… bandages… another time. Get some sleep.” Aizawa says with a
promise of an even more dreadful encounter.

He wants to die just thinking about it. Ah, maybe the devil will come to save him from those
dreadful questions. Or Fyodor will murder him on arriving back at his home. Same thing…

Yamada presses a warm mug into his hands and ushers him to bed. Dazai complies easily with a
not very successful attempt at a cheerful goodnight. He bundles the rest of his clothes in his arms
and quickly walks away from the tense atmosphere. When he gets to his room, he can hear hushed
whispers from the other two residents.

The next morning he bounds out of his room energetically, hoping to brush over last night. His two
teachers are on the couch bundled in some blankets and sipping coffee.
“What a lovely morning! Thank you for the tea last night Yamada! It was so good, I almost had a
heart attack!” He chirps, filling up the empty mug with cold water.

The other tries to match his energy, but he can see the glances they exchange.

“We’ll take a break today from morning training, just to make sure your injury doesn’t act up. If
you’re feeling up to it though, we may patrol lightly.” Aizawa explains, sipping from his now
second mug of coffee.

Yamada hurries to get ready, which leaves the two of them staring awkwardly at each other.
Suddenly, Dazai spots a chess set from the corner of his eyes.

“Aizawa… Do you know how to play chess, by any chance?”

“Yes.”

Dazai wins all three games, much to Aizawa’s displeasure. Dazai can tell he’s trying to act
indifferent, but his fists clench as he loses once again. Dazai pats his back placatingly, which only
angers the other more. He insists they play something else. Dazai would suggest some sort of
drinking game or something like ‘who can stab each other first’ but those games are more suited
for people like Chuuya or Fyodor.

He’s terribly bored. Aizawa is only marking assignments (he hasn’t actually turned any in so far
due to well-placed excuses.) Dazai looks over his shoulder. It’s the most interesting thing in the
whole house, minus the alcohol cabinet that Dazai’s still trying to find. Alcoholic preferences say a
lot about a person. Red wine enjoyers like Chuuya for example, are always so snooty. And ugly,
and annoying. Actually, that might just be Chuuya.

Aizawa finally relents to taking Dazai on patrol that night. He’s genuinely excited to get out of the
stupid apartment.

It’s all going swimmingly until Aizawa’s phone rings with an urgent message about Hosu. In
between his hushed words, the name Stain is mentioned. While he stops to panic or whatever,
Dazai checks the news.

Stain is striking again? Perfect. He does want to have a conversation with the man and what better
time than when the city is in chaos? Plus, he has a certain Iida to chase down. He’s almost sure
he’s going after the man who almost killed his brother, especially because he’s interning in Hosu.

Hosu in flames: It’s a popular headline across the news. He clicks on a video to find a Nomu
similar to the one at the USJ staring right back at him.

“Shit. Dazai, I need you to listen closely. I have no time to drop you back, so you’re going to have
to come to Hosu with me. I’m going to leave you at a hero agency and you will not engage.”
Aizawa warns him. “I need you to know this is a severe situation, with people's lives at stake. Do I
make myself clear?”

“Yes, don’t worry about me.” Dazai says, with the clear intention of following absolutely none of
those rules.

He’s got a few people to hunt down, after all.

 False ideologies
Chapter Summary

Stain arc is finally here!!

Hosu is roaring with red hot flames and panicking civilians. Dazai is vaguely reminded of the
Dragon Head incident, but when he looks closer the only real similarity is the injured or potentially
dead people littering the streets. It’s a gruelling scene. If Dazai wasn’t himself, he may have been
horrified.

But he’s not even disturbed as he treads next to a stressed Aizawa. Fair enough, Iida’s in Hosu.
Probably out for revenge. Which is exactly why Dazai is out here in the sweltering heat, about to
be dropped off to some babysitter while Aizawa fights Nomus.

Of course, he’s going to slip out the first opportunity he gets. He doesn’t particularly care about
Iida’s life; He’s much more interested in Stain’s ideology. Dazai wants to crush it. He wants to
watch his whole life’s purpose shatter before his eyes.

“Stay here. Do not move.” Aizawa orders, placing his hands on Dazai’s shoulders as he looks him
right in the eye. “Please.”

“Sure thing, Eraserhead.” Dazai smiles.

Aizawa’s shoulders drop in what seems to be relief, before flying off with his capture weapon
without a second thought. Dazai waves at his retreating figure cheerfully before spinning around to
evaluate the agency he’s at. There’s a sign near him that says something about a hero named
Manual.

Now, where has he heard that name before? It’s on the tip of his tongue. Whatever, he’s got more
important things to do. Another hero is eying him carefully, half distracted as she rapidly talks to
the one resting between her ear and shoulder. Her hands are occupied with scribbling things into a
notebook.

He tries to walk away casually, but she unexpectedly catches on and provides him with a glare that
could rival Chuuya’s. Scary. He sits back down on the sidewalk, waiting for his opportunity.
There’s got to be some distraction coming, right?

Almost as if his prayers are answered, a Nomu races past Dazai at breaking speeds. His hair flies
up and back at the winds coming from the pressure of the speed.

And finally, the hero is sidetracked. Her phone drops to the ground with a resounding crack as she
calls for backup verbally and abandons her babysitting duty. Thank God. Dazai takes off running
toward the alleyways around Hosu with his abysmal knowledge of the area.

According to the reports sent by Chuuya, the League sent out an offer to Stain to collaborate. Stain
predictably declined. Their views differ too much. It was a frightful encounter though, with tension
high. Chuuya was ordered to just intimidate and not to interfere with their bargaining.

Dazai doesn’t think the League is aware that Chuuya isn’t a mindless drone, but whatever.
Chuuya’s basically a loyal dog anyways, just not to them.

All he knows about Stain is that he likes to kill heroes and he operates in shady areas that aren’t
visited by the public. So if he finds one area, he’ll be led around to similar. Dazai’s feet pound on
the ground as he makes sure he’s not being followed. It would be worse if that hero caught him.

He wanders the alleyways until he hears a vaguely familiar voice. There he finds Iida and Stain
together, with a random guy slumped on a wall. A hero, most likely. Dazai approaches with Stain’s
back to him, stepping lightly with one hand trailing the wall. Iida’s on the ground, clenching his
teeth painfully.

Iida’s eyes lock with his and Dazai returns the look with a slight wave.

“Iida! Funny finding you back here. Is that Stain?” He says excitedly as the man in question turns
to look at him.

Almost immediately Stain rushes toward Dazai, pinning him against a wall with a knife to his
throat. Iida cries out while Dazai makes no move to struggle against the hold. He stares dead in the
man’s eyes and continues talking with a sharp smile. Wow, they both have bandages. Twinning.
Dazai’s running the fashion industry with these trends.

“Wow! I’ve been wanting to meet you for a while, I have to say Stain, your ideologies are quite
interesting. Of course, I have some faults I’d point out with them as well.”

“Who are you?”

“Just a classmate of Iida’s.”

“Another one of those fake heroes?” Stain spits. “I should just kill you too.”

“As long as it’s painless, feel free to! By the way, what makes a true hero?”

Despite making the news lots, Stain’s opinions and reasoning for going after heroes are vague at
best. All he talks about is heroes being fake. Looking into the backgrounds and reputations of his
victims, Dazai figures that it’s to do with people’s motivations for becoming heroes.

Dazai still doesn’t get it. If the situation is flipped and the mafia is considered, it doesn't make
sense for all mafia members to join because they enjoy violence. On the contrary, many join the
mafia just to make money. Unethical as it may be, not everyone’s motives are pure. The high
standard for heroes is frankly ridiculous.

“People who become heroes for shallow reasons like money and fame are disgusting.” Stain says.
“All Might is the only true hero. All others must be purged for the sins they have committed!”

Money makes the world go around. It's odder if someone didn’t want money at all than someone
who chose a job for the money. Actually, how much do heroes get paid? Now Dazai’s curious.
Surely there are less dangerous jobs that pay more than heroics. Why needlessly endanger oneself
for money?

Does Dazai really have an opinion? He’s not a part of hero society. He kills people selfishly for a
dream of his that will never come true.

“All Might sells merchandise, doesn’t he?” Dazai tilts his head, still locking eyes with Stain. “That
makes him lots of money, which means by your definition he’s a fake hero.”
Stain's eyes widen comically at the revelation, stepping back but keeping the blade poised only a
few centimetres from Dazai’s throat.

“You’re wrong!” Stain accuses.

“I’m wrong?”

“All Might is virtuous and a real hero who saves everyone! Other heroes can’t compare!”

“It seems your ideology is flawed, Stendhal. It was disappointing to come here.” Dazai leans
forward, pressing his throat against the knife to bring his lips to the man’s ear. “You think you’re
righteous, but you’re like a child clinging to a simple solution.”

“Dazai! Please leave, this is my situation to deal with!” Iida interferes pathetically.

His classmate slobbering all over the ground with tears dropping everywhere is hysterical. Iida’s
eyes are blown wide with panic and pain, clenching his teeth hard. The other hero isn’t much
better. He’s obviously lost consciousness but seems to be breathing shallowly.

The sound of heavy running catches Dazai’s attention, faint as it may be. Familiar energy is
humming in the air.

“Kill me, Stain.” Dazai taunts, ignoring Iida.

Stain rears his knife after gathering his wits, pointing it straight at Dazai’s throat. Iida cries out
hopelessly, attempting to move his arm out to reach for the other.

A punch flies toward Stain’s face, smashing into it with aggressive force and power. Midoriya’s
power is as volatile as ever, but now he can control it. Iida yells at Midoriya as he did to Dazai,
something about interfering. But instead, Midoriya talks about saving a friend. Yeah, they’re very
different.

“Do not interfere. It is my duty to cleanse the world of these two children. They’ve already been
corrupted.” Stain rasps out.

Dazai takes the opportunity to run to where Midoriya’s standing with Iida and notices him sending
a message. Dazai’s first thought is it’s to a pro, but when he feels his phone buzz a second later, the
only option is the class chat.

“As a hero, I have to protect my friends. He’s made a mistake! But so do others! Iida isn’t corrupt.”
Midoriya defends, quickly getting into a position to fight.

His green lighting fires up as he slides under Stain, maneuvering in the air to punch his head.
Dazai’s reminded of All Might with the actions. Their fighting styles are shockingly similar.

And then Midoriya falls as quick as he arrived with Stain towering over him. Dazai should
probably step in now. The issue is, his main weapon when he’s parading around as a hero is a
knife. With Stain, it’ll be more of a hindrance. His skills are drastically better than Dazai’s,
meaning any blade he uses can easily be turned against him.

He’ll have to play support in this fight. His ability will be useful at least. He should be able to stop
the paralysis if he touches Stain, considering there are no drugs involved in Stain's quirk. Just a
weird phenomenon with licking blood.

Dazai makes his move, approaching Stain easily. The vigilante spins around to take a jab at him.
Dazai dodges to one side but he prepares for that, striking his arm with a second blade. Dazai
swings his non-injured arm around to lightly tap his bare shoulders. Both Midoriya and Iida’s
paralysis wears off instantly.

The former jumps up to deliver a sharp roundhouse kick to Stain’s back while the man is caught
off guard. Iida on the other hand slowly kneels, clutching his injured shoulder. He drags the
collapsed hero toward the exit of the alley.

Then a fucking tunnel of flames comes charging at all of them. Dazai barely dodges, the end of his
coat singes from the flames. As he moves, he feels something tear in his chest. Shit. His chest
wound opened up again.

It’ll just be harder to navigate the fight with it, but he should be able to help.

“Todoroki?! Why are you here?” Iida questions.

He seems pretty unhappy considering they’re the people that are stopping him from dying. Maybe
he wants to die too.

“Midoriya. Be more specific in your texts.” Todoroki says, completely ignoring the rest of them.
“It took me a while to get here, I’m late. The Pros are coming in a few minutes.”

Heroes are finally coming! Great, now he doesn’t have to participate in combat for that long. The
injured hero stirs awake, eyes widening at the scene in front of him. Todoroki lets out a stream of
jagged ice, encasing Stain.

Midoriya and Todoroki fight together for a while, defending each other’s weak points. Dazai stays
to the side, really only watching the fight with rapt attention. He only needs to step in once they’re
paralysed, or else he’s more of a nuisance with his ability. Stain’s proficiency to fight is very
impressive, now that he gets an opportunity to analyse it.

He moves constantly, shifting around or spinning a blade. Whether it’s a battle tactic or just a thing
he does, Dazai doesn’t know. He easily slices up Todoroki’s ice, leaving his fire to the natural
solution. A shame he’s less adept with his flames, it would make the fight go smoother if he didn’t
have to focus so much attention on controlling it.

Iida is shifting around, clearly debating joining the fight again.

“Don’t join in right now, Iida.” Dazai cautions.

“Why!? I have to help, they’re fighting because of me!”

“Yeah they are, and you’ll make it worse. Just wait a bit, jeez. No need to be so impatient!” Dazai
chides, dragging the slightly awake hero away ever farther.

“Who are you, by the way?” He directs the question at the hero.

“My name is… Native.” He croaks, closing his eyes again.

For a professional, he’s kind of wimpy. Dazai could fight through those injuries, probably. Chuuya
definitely could. Shame on him for being bested by a short fifteen-year-old ginger.

“Wow, he’s kind of useless. What do you think, Iida?” Dazai turns to his classmate, watching the
fight with pale skin and wide, distracted eyes.
The boy in question doesn’t respond. Dazai sighs, getting Native to the almost front of the alley. A
nasty trail of blood is left behind him.

Stain finally nicks Todoroki’s leg, licking the blood up almost immediately. Todoroki goes stiff,
quickly collapsing on the spot. Midoriya shouts out. Iida tenses, clenching his fists. Yeah, he’s
probably about to jump into the fight. Dazai starts to run into the fight, past Iida.

Midoriya tries to take the attention off the other boy, flying around the air and on the walls with
that new quirk thing of his. Stain’s attention shifts, just enough that Dazai can drag Todoroki a
meter or two away and try to touch Stain again.

Dazai lunges for his shoulder with success, but Stain turns around fast. He dodges the first knife,
but another finds itself directly through Dazai’s stomach.
 Hospitals
Chapter Summary

Stain part 2 and the aftermath starts..

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

“Dazai!” Midoriya and Iida both yell as he stumbles back.

Dazai clutches his stomach as he slowly lowers himself to the floor. Shit, this isn’t great. He hates
pain, why couldn’t he have slit his throat instead? Bleeding out is so tedious.

Iida rushes to Dazai’s side as Midoriya and Todoroki continue their onslaught. It’s sloppier than
before, which means they probably don’t have much time until one of them runs out of stamina.

“Can you move? Wait, stay still!” Iida orders, picking Dazai up despite the obvious pain in his
shoulder. “I’m so sorry, this is because of me.”

“Ugh Iida, stop with the apologies. Hey, do you think I’ll bleed out and die?”

“Don’t say things like that! We’re all going to live.” Iida insists tearfully.

Ew. Dazai makes a face at Iida’s much too encouraging words. Maybe he would rather die than
deal with the aftermath of this situation. Actually, since the League of Villains is here, shouldn’t
Chuuya be tagging along?

Dazai is placed a few metres away near Native. The blue-haired boy uses his good hand to rip off
some of Dazai’s clothing to try to staunch the bleeding. It's a poor attempt. Dazai could do better
even while bleeding out.

His three classmates take turns attacking until one three-way attack knocks the hero killer out.
They all look at his unconscious body in awe, and then there is this realisation that they’re safe.
The fight drains out of them, but their guards aren’t let down completely.

“We need to make sure he is incapacitated.” Todoroki states calmly, already searching for
something to tie him up with.

Dazai drags himself over to the trio to congratulate them. From what he can tell, Todoroki is the
least injured. All of his wounds are superficial, with general quirk exhaustion catching up to him.
Iida’s arm is still messed up, bleeding sluggishly. That’s going to hurt when the adrenaline wears
off. Midoriya’s legs look bruised up. They’re even trembling a bit. Besides that though, his injuries
lie in a few surface scrapes and one or two somewhat serious gashes.

“We make a great team guys!” Dazai gives them a thumbs up. “Let's take his weapons first though,
then bind his wrists.”

“Um, Dazai… Maybe you shouldn’t be moving?” Midoriya squeaks.

“Maybe. I might die if I keep moving.” Dazai waves him off, opting to lean over Stain to get a
good look at him.

“Wh- What?! Please don’t stand up!”

“I was messing with you. Sort of.” He grins. “Wow, he’s got so many weapons. I’m jealous.”

Todoroki moves efficiently to remove all weapons from Stain, passing them along to Iida who lays
them out tidily. Dazai is instructed to not move, which he finds positively boring.

While he’s looking around, he notices a familiar red glow on top of one of the nearby buildings.
Squinting, he realises it’s Chuuya. That bastard, getting joy out of Dazai’s suffering. If Chuuya had
just joined the fight, it would have been over in a second. Dazai sends as much malice as he
possibly can in the direction of the short figure.

Todoroki digs out a random rope from a garbage bin nearby. He ties Stain up precisely and tightly
as Iida and him converse. Dazai’s too far away to listen in to their hushed apologies, but he can
infer whatever it's about. Iida’s apologising, again. They all gather their belongings and head to the
exit of the alley where the main road is supposed to lie.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t much help. Not very heroic of me.” Native says as he leans on Todoroki for
support while they make their way to the entrance of the alleyway.

“Totally. Lucky we were here. You should retire.” Dazai retorts easily.

“Don’t say that!” Midoriya stammers. “It’s ok, you did your best. The hero killer is a tough
opponent, and even us four could barely keep up!”

The hero laughs awkwardly while Dazai slumps into the hold of Iida. His blood is getting
everywhere, even after he’s tried to stench the bleeding. Was the world always this blurry?

They arrive at the street, which is almost empty. Not for long though. Dazai spots a small man
wearing yellow scanning the streets. Is this the backup Todoroki mentioned? When the man spots
the group, Midoriya lights up in recognition. The supposed hero flies toward them, kicking him
lightly.

“I thought I told you to stay on the bullet train!” He shouts.

“Who are you?” Todoroki poses a very important question.

“He’s the hero I’m interning with, Grand Torino!” Midoriya answers quickly. “But what are you
doing here?”

“I was told to come here suddenly. Well, whatever. I’m glad you’re ok.” He sighs.

Out of the corner of his eye, Dazai sees the hero killer stir. He’s awake already? It seems no one
else has taken notice. Actually, has this hero not noticed the four other injured people and one tied-
up criminal? Seems a bit lackluster. Stain is right there, half-awake and dangerous.

A few more heroes come rushing toward the group,

“Those injuries look serious,” One says. “I’ll call an ambulance right away.”

Their eyes trail over the students until their eyes land on Stain. Surprise and shock land on all of
their faces, but they quickly take control of the situation.
These guys seem to be more competent than the other short hero. Dazai tries to recall any of their
appearances. He and a hero make eye contact, and with dread Dazai realises that he recognises one
of them. She obviously does, because the moment they see each other, she rushes at him angrily.

“You! You’re that kid I was told to babysit! I had to search for you when you disappeared out of
nowhere.” She huffs, before looking at him closer.

“I got lost, of course. Hosu is very hard to navigate.” Dazai argues childishly.

“Whatever, I’ll save the scolding for your teacher. You don’t look so good.” The blonde hero
scrutinises him.

“It’s hard to not look good when you’re around.” He remarks flirtily.

At the same time, his body betrays him as he stumbles. Dazai hisses through his clenched teeth.
She steps forward quickly to stabilise him.

“Yeah, ok. Whatever deflection you’re trying here isn’t working.” She says, then calls out to the
other heroes. “I’ve got this kid with me, you guys focus on the hero killer and the other students.”

Dazai watches Iida apologise to all of them with half-lidded eyes. He can still feel both his injuries
bleed sluggishly, with the one that Stain inflicted being much more painful. He’s sure that the stab
wound missed any major organs. If he could just get a good look at it, he could sew himself up.

He’s about to close his eyes fully (When did he get so tired?) When a loud screeching noise jolts
him awake. He eyes a nomu, the one he saw earlier that day, come flying at the group. Before
Dazai can even move, Midoriya is snatched into the grasp of the bird monster.

He reaches out weakly to try to nullify the monster, but it flies away just as quickly as it came. A
bit of blood from the nomu flies onto the blonde hero that’s near Dazai. Stains shifts near him and
does something completely unexpected.

Stain licks off the blood of the nomu before leaping swiftly into the air to brutally tackle it as it
succumbs to his quirk. God, he’s so fast. To think that the man was probably holding back on
them.

Midoriya looks fear-stricken, similar to the others that are simply standing there and staring. It’s
pretty laughable, it seems Dazai is the only one who's not shocked. Ah, but he’s also the only one
who has really had to fight a nomu before. It’s dead anyways, there’s not much to fear.

Stain’s legs are shaking, it’s obvious he’s still worn out.

“I will serve justice! ” Stain declares crazily, albeit a bit frantically. “I shall cleanse the world of
filthy people.”

The heroes whisper among themselves.

“He just killed somebody with no hesitation…”

“He saved the boy?!”

“No, idiot. He took a hostage.”

“Prepare to fight!”

“Those bird things are called nomu. They’re not human. Well, not anymore!” Dazai informs them.
“Not… human?” One man trails off.

“What are you all doing crowded together?” Someone scowls from behind them.

Dazai turns his head to find a hero that he definitely does recognize. Endeavour is filled with as
much authority as he does in videos online. A no-nonsense type of guy. He turns toward the sound
of Midoriya struggling against Stain’s hold.

“Is that..?”

“Endeavour.” Stain spits, looking straight at the hero with quiet rage.

His face looks almost deformed, with his white mask slipping straight off his eyes. Stain’s drool is
dripping down his mouth in a way that can only be likened to a wild animal hunting its prey. As if
he has lost his mind completely. Dazai’s planted that seed of doubt in his head about All Might, but
he really did want to talk to him more.

“Hero Killer!” Endeavour roars.

He powers up a column of flames, only to be hastily yelled to stop by Midoriya’s mentor.

Endeavour’s narrow-mindedness could have killed Midoriya. A shame. Stain slowly stands up,
finally allowing Dazai’s classmate to move. He only takes a few steps toward Endeavour before
stopping.

With his ripped expression, he looks like an angry child. Dazai can’t help but feel a sense of
disgust at the man who calls himself a saviour. Stain is truly a pathetic man.

“You fake heroes! I must make things right. Someone must be dyed in blood. I will prove to you-”
He says in reference to Dazai, “That you’re wrong. I must show the world what a true hero is!”

The threat he emits is downright scary. The heroes are struck by his words, but Dazai just stares at
him with pity. He’s so utterly weak to be moved by a few words. A crazy man, hanging on by a
few last threads.

“The only hero I’ll allow to kill me is All Might!

Then he drops his knife. It scatters onto the ground, with the leftover blood staining the concrete.
All eyes shift to it.

Then, he stops.
And with nothing interesting left to think about, Dazai doesn’t catch himself in time for himself to
fall unconscious.

If he’s lucky, he’ll never wake up.

He’s floating for a while, then suddenly acutely aware of everything around him. Coming into
consciousness is usually quick and fast for Dazai.

The first thing he does is observe his surroundings without opening his eyes or moving. By the
smell, it’s a hospital. He hates hospitals. One may think he would have grown used to being in
them, but every experience just contributes to his distaste for the environment. But usually Mori is
there too, so that might be why.

The sheets are always too thin for his consistently cold body. The lights are too bright. There’s too
much equipment. It smells terrible and like death. There are too many reasons why he hates
hospitals. There’s not one good thing about them.

There are people talking, some familiar and unfamiliar. Does he hear a bark? Strange… Probably
someone's quirk.

He tries his hardest to focus on the voices while keeping his breathing neutral.

“You must be the UA students who took down the Hero Killer, right?”

Nobody answers, but the answer is pretty obvious.

“Regarding the Hero Killer we arrested, he had fairly serious injuries with burns and broken bones
and is receiving treatment under strict guard, woof. Since you are all UA students, I’m sure you’re
aware that when superpowers were becoming the norm, the police attached high importance to
leadership and standards and made sure quirks were not used as weapons.”

Agh, are they going to get fined? Wow, Mori wouldn’t be happy with him.

“And thus, the profession of ‘hero’ emerged to fill that gap. One’s power can easily be used to kill
or injure, acts that normally would be proper to denounce- to be accepted officially. Even up
against the Hero Killer, for uncertified individuals to cause injury with their quirks without specific
instruction from their guardians or supervisors is a clear violation of the rules.”

This guy talks too much. Dazai gets it, they’ve used their powers illegally. For a good reason, mind
them. He’d rather do illegal things than die to someone like Stain.

“The four of you and your supervisors must receive strict punishment.”

Todoroki, thank him (because Dazai was about to pretend to wake up just to argue back), protests
the claim.

“Hold on! If Iida hadn’t done anything, Native would have been killed. If Midoriya hadn’t come,
both of them would have died. Are you saying we should have followed the rules and let them
die?” He fumes.

“Are you saying it’s ok to bend rules when things turn out well?” The detective(?) or policeman(?)
retorts.

“Isn’t it a hero’s job to save people?!”

Todoroki is stepping up here. Dazai likes him a bit more now, he just doesn’t want to get charged
with fines.

“You aren’t fully fledged heroes yet. Goodness, what are Endeavour and UA teaching you?”

That sets off Todoroki, by the sound of his steps and yells of outrage. The other two try to console
him.

“But, this is all the public opinion of the police. And the punishment and such would only occur if
this information is made public. If this were to be made public, you would be commended for your
efforts. However, you would also receive punishment. On the contrary, if we pinned the defeat of
the hero killer on Endeavour and label you as victims, it would end there.”

Sounds like a good deal, Dazai thinks. If he were to make the news, it would be a disaster.
Someone has got to recognise him. Maybe he’s being too egotistical, actually. Although he is a bit
 of a celebrity in the ranks of the mafia, his influence is spread quite far.

He’s fading away to sleep again. He can barely keep his mind awake, it would be impossible to
move or open his eyes. Dazai just lays there in his own world in hopes everyone will just shut up
so he can sleep and heal or whatever.

Chapter End Notes

guys wow ive been writing real short chapters lately but don't you worry ill start
writing longer ones soon
 Dinner with a demon
Chapter Summary

Dazai finally awakes!! for real this time....

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

When Dazai comes to consciousness the second time, it’s much quieter. He opens his eyes
abruptly. He’s greeted by warm sunlight and a stark white ceiling. White invades his vision
everywhere like a disease. He is met with an intense urge to crawl out of the bed and search for
anything other than that dreadful colour.

The heart monitor beeps rather steadily, drowning out most of the other noise in the room. His
body is on fire and it feels as if he’s in Mori’s clinic after another attempt. His bandages are itchy.
They’re not his bandages, because he buys a specific brand that he knows the feeling of. Plus,
they’re hospital-grade. Different thicknesses and textures.

There are hushed whispers in the background. Dazai vaguely wonders if he’s been transported to
another room. The others seemed fine… whenever the last time he was awake.

The chattering ceases. It’s probably time for him to stop pretending to rest.

Dazai sits up, the white sheets pooling around him that reveal even more white in the form of his
bandages. His form almost looks swamped. Dazai raises his head to meet the intense gaze of his
teacher.

Aizawa rushes to him, his hands lifting up in an awkward gesture before deflating and massaging
his forehead. He takes a deep breath, sitting uncomfortably in a cheap plastic hospital chair. If
Dazai looks closer, he can see remnants of battle on him, like the grime and dirt staining his
costume and the way he’s holding one of his shoulders. There’s also blood, well hidden but still
noticeable to someone like Dazai.

“I told you to stay out of trouble.” Aizawa starts, rather angrily. “And then I find out that four of
my students had a run-in with the Hero Killer, one of them severely injured. The place where you
encountered the Hero Killer was not close to where I left you.”

Dazai barely has the decency to look guilty. Why does he care so much, anyway? He disobeyed
orders, but Aizawa wasn’t affected by it. Dazai was the only one who got hurt. When the boy
doesn’t reply, Aizawa sags.

“You’re not regretful at all, are you?” He asks, but it’s an answer they both know.

Dazai takes more interest in the white ceiling than he did when he first awoke. He traces the
shadows on it with his eyes. When he feels eyes bearing into him, he turns his head to the source.

“I didn’t know you were a detective too, Aizawa-sensei! A man of many skills.” Dazai praises the
older man with a crooked grin. “Are my classmates ok?”
He plays the role of a concerned friend, which Aizawa eats up. He can guess what’s happened to
everyone else based on the little conversation he happened to overhear, whenever that was.

“They’re all fine. Midoriya and Iida were discharged a day ago, and Todoroki the day before that.”

“What day is it?” Dazai questions, almost panicked.

He’s so used to waking up after an attempt or an injury from work with Mori there that he doesn’t
have to worry about dates and that stuff. But it’s different this time.

“Saturday. Internships are over.”

It’s a relief in some ways that there are no more internships. It’s a tiring act to live with adults.
Living with Mori was terrorising enough in its own way, but Aizawa and Yamada are worse. Or
better. Too much better, that he hates it.

“Do you think I can get discharged today? I have to… do my homework.”

“You’ve never handed in homework once.” Aizawa deadpans.

“I’m feeling generous today! While I was dying and whatnot, my life flashed before my eyes and I
saw all the unfinished homework I had piling up! Who would have thought English essays were
that fun?”

In return to Dazai’s quip, Aizawa suddenly looks downcast. He squeezes the phone in his hand
painfully. He was probably just on the phone with someone. Yamada, or someone from school.

“You provoked the Hero Killer as well. According to Iida, you goaded him into attempting to
murder you. Why?” He interrogates.

Did Iida say that? What else did he say… Dazai thought Iida was too far away to hear their
conversation, but he guesses not.

“Easy bluff. I could see Midoriya coming, so I was distracting him!”

“You shouldn’t compromise your safety for that. Stain could have killed you if Midoriya was just a
second late.” He states dully, before something shifts in his expression.

Would that have been that bad? Absolutely not. Stain could have severed his carotid artery if he
wanted to. Dazai hates heroes. They can’t just move on. The world won’t stop moving for someone
like Dazai.

“You didn’t care if Stain slaughtered you back then.” Aizawa phrases it as a statement, not a
question.

“God, Aizawa-sensei, I’m not suicidal!” He complains, with irony.

Aizawa can’t possibly understand anything about his life. It’s a simple concept to grasp that Dazai
cannot be helped. A lost cause from the beginning. Aizawa only stares at him with those sad, sad
eyes.

The hospital lights are bright and sharp, unlike the dull yellow glow of his temporary apartment.
It’s not like his real place has great electricity in the first place. He’d even call it a step up to the
battery-powered lamps in his room that connect to a comically long extension cord. He had to
power his fridge somehow.
“Your… bandages. Because of the severity of the injury, they had to be removed.” Aizawa starts
slowly, and Dazai freezes at the implications.

They’re going to question him. Is Dazai going to a mental hospital? He’s not crazy. Dazai’s eyes
dart around trying to find a distraction. He’s only on the second floor, not enough to die from that
height. Nothing in sight. Probably because he’s in a hospital.

Mori will rescue him. He hates that he finds comfort in the doctor, but it’s been driven into his
mind for years. Mori doesn’t ask questions. He stitches Dazai up with a smile, adding to the
numerous white bandages on his body. But he never makes Dazai do anything about his suicide
attempts.

“Self-inflicted injuries, burns, bullet wounds, and even more. Recent and old. I’ve never seen this
much scarring on someone your age.” He lists, looking straight at Dazai. “You need help, and UA
can give you that. I care about you. Talk to us.”

Dazai smiles mournfully at the absurdity of the claim. It's like Aizawa is looking at an iceberg. He
doesn’t know about Dazai’s life or his work. Or his relationships. Asking him to give everything
up for some random school is selfish of him. Can’t he see that Dazai just wants to die? It’s
ludicrous to ask anything else of him!

“Don’t feel bad. I’m a lost cause!” Dazai sings.

And then there is a crash and a familiar white fluffy hat amongst dark hair waving to Dazai
apathetically. Aizawa whips his head around, on edge with his capture weapon threaded between
his calloused fingers. Dazai widens his eyes at the intrusion.

“Here you are, dear Dazai. I found myself unfortunately unfamiliar with these halls.” He explains,
ignoring Aizawa and opting to pull out Dazai’s IV himself. “I’ve come to collect you. The house is
most dreary without your company.”

“Dostoyevsky-”

“Call me Fyodor.”

“Fyodor… What a pleasant surprise.”

Aizawa wraps his capture weapon around the Russian not a second later. Fyodor’s eyes move
toward him analytically, a somewhat cordial smile on his face. It’s unsettling and unnatural. Dazai
prefers it when he’s being an evil genius.

Dazai just stares at the two of them apathetically. Will Fyodor kill Aizawa? That would be a
hindrance to the assignment. He doesn’t… want Fyodor to kill him.

“Who are you?” Aizawa demands tensely, narrowing his eyes.

“A roommate of Dazai’s. Did he not mention me? How awful…” He pouts (pouts?!?!?).

All of a sudden, alarms blare throughout the building, sending shrieking bouts of pain to his head.

Aizawa curses, Fyodor and Dazai forgotten as he quickly tells them to stay put as he runs out of the
room. The alarm still blares like it is a holy song from the heavens and Dazai prays for his gun to
shoot the alarm system. Or go back to bed. It doesn’t seem like the latter would be very likely with
the lack of a peaceful atmosphere.
The more pressing matter though, is the teen in front of him.

“What did you do?” Dazai says, both amused and cautious.

“Nothing you need to worry about.” Fyodor muses. “Come, we’re leaving.”

With no choice but to follow, Dazai removes all wires attached to him and climbs out of bed
slowly. Fyodor grows impatient but makes no move to voice his disdain. Chances are, Dazai would
probably only take longer to piss off the boy if he did say anything.

The wounds on Dazai’s stomach still hurt, but it doesn’t feel like they’ll tear. It’ll be fine. It’s just a
dull ache, nothing compared to other injuries.

He turns to the mirror hanging near the door of the ward, taking the opportunity to observe
himself. He’s in an ugly hospital gown. He’s pale, deathly white and sickly. Not much different
from that how he often looks.

His bandages are wrapped wrong though, something Dazai finds simply irritating. He always
wraps his bandages a certain way. Even Mori knows that. Although usually he can’t be bothered to
bandage Dazai up unless it's urgent, opting to leave a roll or two of bandages for Dazai to do it
himself when he awakens.

Dazai really wants to change out of the hospital clothes, but the look on Fyodor’s face makes Dazai
think they’re short on time before Aizawa comes parading back in. With a sigh, he finds his shoes
and socks to put on and the remainder of the clothes he wore that night in a plastic back. They’re
pretty bloody.

Oh! And right next to his bag of clothes is the bag that he brought to his internship. Aizawa must
have brought them up a few days ago. That saves him the trip up, he was almost worried about
running into one of them after basically running away. He prays that they didn’t look inside. That
would be a whole can of worms that he is not planning to open. He clasps the tattered bag and
hoists it over his shoulder.

“I was concerned when you didn’t come back, and then I found out that you had been injured
during your school affairs! I had to find you after that, to check if my poor Dazai was ok.” Fyodor's
voice is full of mirth.

“I didn’t think of you once. You’re very creepy, Fedya. Perhaps I should file a restraining order.”

Dazai pretends to debate the notion with an entertained grin as they leave the room as if it was
never inhabited. Fyodor leads Dazai downstairs to the reception, where he and Dazai quickly sign
the brown-haired boy out. The front desk is surprisingly empty, but that would make sense.

Dazai sneers at the blood encasing his shoe. He just cleaned those…

“You’re a very messy killer today.” Dazai comments quietly as he stares at the man pinned to the
wall in a cross shape.

“I was putting on a show for you.”

“I’m flattered!”

“His death only betters society. A dirty quirk user.”

The two of them share strong distasteful opinions toward supernatural abilities. The difference is,
that Dazai only thinks of his own as something horrible. Why should he care about anybody else’s
bodies when he has his disgustingly empty ability sitting in his dirty blood?

Fyodor shares the same sentiment, but for all ability and quirk users. Dazai knows that the Russian
often finds himself in places with low supernatural levels, such as Yokohama. That’s more of a
special case though, but there are many other places that aren’t as filled with abilities. America and
Japan have the highest percentage of metahumans, while places like the Netherlands are similar to
Yokohama. There are many anti-superpower societies in the world. Most are smaller settlements
though.

Dazai knows he grew up in Moscow, which had about 50% of the population with some sort of
power. That's all he knows, really. He’s a very secretive person. The two of them met in
Yokohama, where he convinced Dazai to catch a flight to New Zealand. It was fun for a while, but
eventually, Dazai returned because their ideas and plans for the future clashed.

Dazai looks around the lobby as they exit, noticing the other bodies there. Clearly, it was just a
distraction to steal Dazai away. There’s a hero and a few medics crowding around the area, but they
pay no mind to the two that sneak around. Dazai ducks under the tape blocking off the scene and
he and Fyodor walk out. Dazai glances at the sign that reads ‘Hosu general hospital’.

“Ugh, we’re still in Hosu. You came this far for me? You sure know how to charm a guy! While
you’re at it, can you jump in front of that car?” He swoons, pointing to the truck barrelling down
the road.

“Unfortunately not, although I wouldn’t be surprised if you did that yourself.”

Dazai takes the lead, looking for the nearest train station.

Apparently, the trains are down. Great. Dazai sighs, staring at the sign like it had killed his family
(lol). There are replacement buses to Musutafu thankfully, so the two walk to the long line of
people.

“I could get rid of the line for us….” Fyodor suggests.

“No. I’m not going to jail because of you.”

The Russian sighs dejectedly, leaning up against a building. Dazai approaches a woman smoking,
asking (pleading) for a cigarette. Obviously feeling pity for his bandaged form, she gives in and
lights it for him. He thanks her cheerfully and makes his way back to Fyodor who scrunches his
nose at the smoke.

The two of them are a strange duo, one with an ushanka and grand cloak and the other in the
ugliest hospital gown possible with bandages covering everywhere in sight. If anything, he’d call
them suspicious. They finally arrive at the front of the line, with the replacement bus heading
straight to Musutafu.

When they arrive at a stop close enough to Dazai’s place, he makes sure to shove Fyodor off and
skip after him. Dazai instructs him to buy dinner if he wants anything, cause he’s certainly not
buying any. Fyodor, while grouching about it, caves and breaks off to buy something at the
convenience store. The other happily makes his way home, glaring at the entrance of his home.

Fyodor could have planted a bomb. Or bought a venomous snake to kill Dazai in his sleep. He turns
over the table in the middle of the room, realises there’s nothing there and gives up. If he’s going to
be killed, now’s the perfect time when he’s injured. Whatever. He doesn’t care enough.
Fyodor comes home only a few minutes later with a bag full of ingredients. Dazai is almost
shocked. A demon who cooks! Dazai lazily watches the other cook and he sprawls across the
coffee table. The apartment only has a pot and one mug, so he’s not too sure how one can actually
make anything edible in there. He makes some rice in the pot, rinses it, and fries up something else.
Tofu, Dazai thinks. He even cuts up some chives on top with a bunch of sauces. The only reason
Dazai is staring so closely at the other is 1. If he looks away, he might get drugged. 2. He’s so
bored. Seriously, there’s nothing to do. Ever. Maybe he should take a page out of Fyodor’s book
and start planning mass murders or something.

Being an evil mastermind seems too hard. Imagine always having to play into a certain character.
Boring! He couldn’t bare to act like Mr mysterious over there all the time.

The guy in question sets a mug of food down in front of Dazai and the rest of the pot in front of
himself. He also brings over that stupidly fancy tea set with some tea brewing. He hopes it’s not
poisoned this time. Dazai could go for some tea.

“I brought some chopsticks from the store. You should stock up, it’s as if nobody lives here.”

“Well, I wish you weren’t living here. And I wish I weren’t living at all, so in the best-case
scenario nobody will live here.”

“Your humour is very amusing, Dazai. I find great pleasure in interacting with you. It’s a shame I’ll
kill you one day.” Fyodor says, eyes flickering to Dazai’s neck.

“I’ll definitely kill you first, obviously. Are you that much of an idiot?”

“No, just confident.”

“You need more insecurity in your life. I’ll start a social media page dedicated to calling you ugly.”
Dazai announces, slamming his hands onto the table.

Some of the tea spills, which Fyodor looks vaguely annoyed at. He must love that tea set. Dazai
doesn’t understand material obsessions.

“Will you now?”

Unfortunately, he has to spend another day with Fyodor before he can go back to school. Both are
pretty terrible.

The moment he wakes up at a frankly ridiculous hour, seven in the morning, his mood sours. It’s
the weekend, he should be sleeping in! His temporary roommate obviously doesn’t share the
sentiment. A very dull and warm-looking grey sleeping bag is empty, so Fyodor must be out
ticking off his evil checklist somewhere. Dazai yawns, stretching his arms. He had only changed
out of his hospital gown before sleeping.

The idea of changing his bandages near Fyodor sends chills down his spine.

He drags himself to the bathroom and slowly unwraps his bandages to take a much-needed shower.
Dazai stands in front of the cold water, letting it warm up while he leans on the wall for support.
His stomach is gruesome, but not different from the rest of the disgusting marks on his body.

He turns off the shower quick enough, only just after it finished heating up. He stares at himself in
the mirror, hands clutching at the sink basin. His hair drips water into the sink. He just stands
there. Glancing at himself, at his cold and crazy eyes.
 How long does this have to last?

He doesn’t want to do any of this. He wants to go back to normal, back in Yokohama. With
Odasaku. With Chuuya.

Dazai can’t stand this. This stupid faking everything at a school made for good people. It makes
him want to claw his muscles apart and hang himself with the inside of his body. He would do
anything to just never wake up again.

Who is he?

The question becomes more prominent as the days go on until it’s screaming at him like a devil’s
cry.

He drags his bandages on when he can’t bear to look at himself any longer. They stick to his wet
skin uncomfortably, but he can’t find the effort to drag the towel over his skin. It would just catch
on it anyways, for his skin has never been smooth.

He leaves home after getting ready with one destination in mind. After finally getting the address
after lots of pestering, a visit is long overdue. He catches a bus to the place, getting off after ten
minutes or so. The place he’s looking for is higher end than his own place, much nicer. Dazai
daydreams about jumping off the top of one of the high buildings nearby.

He climbs the fire escape of the building, panting once he finally gets to the eleventh level. Why
does he have to live so high up? Dazai picks the lock of the balcony of his destination, taking great
interest in the magazines on the dining room table. An interesting choice….

Dazai makes himself comfortable and waits for his guest to arrive home.

He does start the social media page, in the end. It staves off his boredom sometimes.

Chapter End Notes

wow its been a good ten days or so since posting... ill probably be pretty busy for the
next month or so but ill still try to update regularly!! enjoy the chapter
 The setting sun
Chapter Summary

chuuya and dazai have a little chat

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Chuuya’s had a long day. From babysitting to attempting to gather information to acting like an
angsty teen, he’s had no break. But that’s been every day since he joined the stupid League of
Villains. At first, he thought it would feel like the Sheep. They were powerful altogether, feared by
others even without Chuuya’s overpowered ability. The League possesses too much power, without
the means to control it. Shigaraki is like a child toying with a gun. He has no knowledge of how to
work it, but that just makes him more unpredictable.

Chuuya is unsettled by the idea of Nomus. It hits awfully close to home, and he wonders if he
could have turned out like that. Mindless. Essentially dead. He’s glad Dazai killed the first one
during the USJ, which was horribly planned in his opinion. They didn’t even use Chuuya, the
insanely powerful sort of God (they didn’t know that but yknow), for any combat except that stunt
with fighting Dazai. He could have killed all of them if Shigaraki gave the signal. But no, he makes
Chuuya stand there like an idiot bodyguard.

The aftermath of the USJ incident was terrible. Shigaraki consistently whined about his bruised
face from Dazai. Dazai. Shigaraki made a few comments about him, something relating to his
teacher and how he was another player. Something to do with video game terminology, Chuuya
has no idea. He’s not a nerd. The games at the arcade are different to whatever he’s parading
about. But how does Dazai know Shigaraki? He’s never mentioned him, and he certainly doesn’t
seem like he’d ever befriend someone like him.

Next time he sees that suicidal freak, he’s going to run a whole interrogation. It’s like Mori and
Dazai are playing some game without him.

He thinks back to the meeting with Stain a few days ago. His character was interesting, but
Shigaraki and his ideals didn’t line up. Chuuya personally considered them to be more thought out
than Shigaraki’s, but both were incoherent. For a second there he was about to step in when Stain
pinned Shigaraki to the ground. It was a very tense encounter. Very undiplomatic. To think that a
group of teenagers protecting their turf could handle issues more maturely!

The most pressing issue though is Shigaraki’s benefactor. A mysterious man that hadn’t revealed
himself to Chuuya until a few days ago right before the Hosu incident. During his second visit to
Hosu, he ended up finding Dazai. Well, he saw him from a water tank with the rest of the League,
pretending to pay attention to the chaos around them instead of a certain brunet. He even got
stabbed.

Thanks to Dazai, they both had a good idea of who was behind the scenes. And he was right. The
man introduced himself as Sensei, even going as far as to give away his other name, All for One. A
mysterious man from centuries ago that was apparently defeated a few years ago. His voice is
oddly calm and collected, almost similar to Mori's way of speech.
Chuuya really only knew about him because there was some talk around Yokohama a while back
around him. Shirase told him not to worry, so he didn’t put any more thought into it.

Today he met Giran, an information broker that Chuuya was tasked with meeting. One of his
lackluster duties as a League of Villains member. Apparently, after Stain took the world by storm,
other people were now interested in the League. Chuuya won't lie, he’s curious about new
potential members. Maybe he’ll get along with them.

Even worse, he hasn't been able to find his wallet since that stupid sports festival! And now he has
a shitton of hero merch that he knows he didn’t buy. Right now it's piled up in one of the few
closets in his apartment. He even had to duct tape it shut to make sure it didn’t topple open with
the sheer amount of merchandise.

Back to his wallet though, that’s the real issue. He had such an awesome keychain of his favourite
brand of fedora on it. It was priceless! And all his change is gone, alongside his cards. A big mess.
He had to cancel his card and apply for a new one, which he had only picked up yesterday. On the
days in between that he had to scavenge throughout the draws in the apartment for loose change to
buy food. It was horrible.

When he joined the Port Mafia, he didn’t think he’d be stuck in another city. One filled with ability
or- quirk users. Places that aren’t Yokohama are strange, with the very idea that superhuman
abilities have to be restricted and limited. The concept is bizarre. He tries to imagine never using
for the tainted sorrow again, but he just can’t.

He and his ability are one; Chuuya is not human. Physically or mentally, he will never have what
he wishes for the most. He will never dream.

He sighs, fishing for the key to his new apartment. He hates to admit it, but he’s missing that nasty
bandaged bastard. He would never tell him that though. Port Mafia business is terrible when Dazai
is added into the mix, but it also keeps things exciting. There’s something exhilarating about being
Soukoku. To be feared by all. To have power.

To put his whole life in someone else's hands, who he knows will keep him alive. As much as he
wants to hate Dazai, he can’t help but miss his presence.

The presence that’s sitting in the middle of his living room… What?!

Chuuya screeches, slamming the door behind him.

“Oi! What are you doing here?!” He demands crossly, shoes forgotten as he points at the offender.

The offender in question doesn’t even seem startled, simply hauling himself off the couch and
throwing that pet magazine he was rifling through this morning to the ground.

“Chuuuya! Welcome home dear, let me get that hat for you.” Dazai greets, dusting Chuuya’s
clothes off.

“Thank you- hey wait, don’t touch the hat.”

“Aww.” He pouts.

“So? Spit it out, why are you at my apartment?”

“I can’t just visit my best friend?”

“No. Unlike you, I’m very busy.” The ginger scoffs, holding his hat close to his chest while he
scans the room.

Dazai never just shows up without reason. Obviously, he’s hidden something in his house, or he
has actual business to discuss. All Chuuya wanted was to have a relaxing bath and enjoy some
pinot noir.

“Hah!? I’ll have you know, being a high school student is very difficult! You just laze around all
day while I work my ass off doing math! I bet you can’t even DO high school-level math!”

“I’ll show you lazy-” Chuuya spits, hitting Dazai in the head. “Can’t do math with a concussion.”

Chuuya laughs evilly at Dazai sprawled across the floor. Dazai contemplates getting up, but then
decides to flop back onto it like a dead fucking fish. Unfortunately, this is the most fun he’s had for
about a week. Or two. He hates to admit it.

And that’s enough fun for Chuuya. He doesn’t want Dazai to interfere with the rest of his
afternoon, so he ties him up with some rope (“You’re so direct in your advances!”) and shoves a
few cotton balls in his mouth for good measure. He takes a step back to admire his work before
waving goodbye to take a nice hot bath. With the bottle of red wine, of course. The whole bottle.

He’s not an alcoholic, regardless of whatever Dazai and Kouyou tell him. Dazai can’t talk
anyways, Chuuya knows he always keeps a shot of something stashed away in one of his pockets.
He tells Chuuya it’s rubbing alcohol for wounds, but that’s barely believable. Chuuya on the other
hand enjoys the art of drinking wine. The perfect glasses, twirling it just enough to allow the air to
mingle with the liquid, taking delicate sips. It’s simply the most enjoyable thing he can do. If he
had it his way, he would always have a glass of wine in his hand.

When he gets out of the bath, Dazai is unfortunately still there. Except he’s somehow gotten out of
the rope. His eyes sweep over the floor.

“Where’d the cotton balls go?” Chuuya asks, swinging his towel around his shoulders to catch the
droplets of water off his wet hair.

“I ate them. Yum.”

He takes a double take at the floor, finding nothing but his shiny clean wooden floors and Dazai’s
leftover rope that looks like it's been chewed through. He sighs, dropping his shoulders as he
sweeps off a newspaper on the coffee table. Chuuya flops himself on the couch. He was going to
cook dinner after his bath, but Dazai firmly stays in place. He obviously wants something.

The sunset peaks through the windows near his balcony, lighting up Dazai’s hair and face and his
stupid dead eyes.

Dazai’s smile twists, cruel and saccharine in the seat opposing Chuuya. In a tone that he hasn’t
used in a long while, he speaks.

“Tell me everything you know about Shigaraki Tomura. You may be loyal to Mori, but I can make
sure every member of the Sheep will never wake up again.”

“You don’t get to threaten me. Just because you’re a psychopath or something, doesn’t mean I’ll
tell you shit.” Chuuya says.

He has strict rules to not talk about Shigaraki to Dazai. Well, anything besides his villain persona.
He doesn’t exactly understand why, but it’s the boss's orders. Something between them, made into
a game. Like the UA traitor.

“Well.” Dazai frowns. “That won’t do.”

He pulls out a printed photo of Yuan, tied to a chair. Chuuya can’t recognise the surroundings, but
it’s dirty. Underground, most likely. Trash litters the visible corners of the room. Blood smears on
one of the walls and there’s what looks to be a dismembered body poorly hidden. Yuan’s mouth is
contorted into a scream or curse, but there’s anger prevalent in her expression.

Chuuya’s hands go flying to Dazai's throat, pushing him into the couch and splintering it under the
weight. Dazai’s smile contorts to more of a grimace, but he continues to only look amused.

“What did you do?” He grinds out.

“She’s unharmed. And she’ll stay that way if you just answer a few questions.” He says. “Tell me,
do you value your leader or the girl who betrayed you more? I’d hate for my men to get their hands
on her.”

“I could kill you right now.” Chuuya tightens his hands around Dazai’s neck, nails digging into the
skin right under his jaw.

“You won’t. Not with Yuan’s life on the line.” He croaks, barely able to get the words out under
the pressure.

Chuuya grinds his teeth together, staring infuriatingly into that bastard's eyes. With a frustrated
noise, he punches the soft fabric next to Dazai’s head. His first rips into the inside, stuffing
springing out. They fly around the two before settling down around them.

“Fine.” He relents and relaxes his stance until he’s standing and Dazai is left pushed into the
cushions.

He can’t let the Sheep be killed. No matter that Mori took him in and moulded him into something
more. Yuan and Shirase helped him… for years. To just allow them to be killed? All because of
Dazai? He can’t. He sometimes hopes they do die, though. Or beg for him to come back. Chuuya
hates how they seem fine without him, even though they thought he was the one to leave first.

“Goodie!” Dazai claps his hands together.

“What do you want to know?” He asks, already wanting to wipe that smug expression off his face.

“His relationship with All for One. If he’s mentioned me at all. Does he know what he took from
me?”

“From you? What could a man-child idiot take from someone like you? Whatever. I met All for
One today. It’s true he’s the benefactor. Shigaraki talks about him like a baby trying to impress
their father. When All for One spoke to me over a screen, he told me to look after him. That he’s
still growing and learning. He… didn’t speak of you. Shigaraki did though. To, I dunno, himself?
He kept calling you ‘another player’. Mentioned something about you being misled and needing to
be recruited to his side. Says All for One can help you. Do you know him from somewhere else?”

“Hm? Maybe.”

“Is that it?? What are you going to do with Yuan?”

“I might kill her after all…” He ponders, bringing a finger up to tap his chin.
 “What?!”

“Just kidding! When I visited Yokohama last week, I paid her to pretend to get captured. She’s a
great actor. Much easier than making her sit in a basement for a week. The Sheep would have my
head! Or not, because you’re not a part of them.” He snickers.

Chuuya pummels Dazai with no regrets. Just bangs him up a bit, before ordering takeout. For two,
unfortunately. God knows when the last time Dazai ate was. He would steal Chuuya’s food
anyways if he only ordered for himself.

Chuuya refuses to talk to the other, his anger still bubbling at the surface of his skin. He almost
can’t tell the difference between his own rage and Arahabaki’s. He really, really, wants to kick
Dazai out. Chuuya’s tempted, but also knows that Dazai could just pester him in other ways. It’s
best to make sure he gets bored and leaves on his own.

His couch is ruined though. One of them. He doesn’t really need two, anyways.

Dazai eats the pasta Chuuya ordered quietly, slurping away on the floor while he stares out
Chuuya’s tall windows. He scowls at the content look on his face. Of course, he doesn't feel any
remorse for tricking Chuuya. He really does forget how cruel Dazai can be.

“You should be at UA.” Dazai speaks quietly, barely audible.

“What?”

Dazai shoves his bowl onto Chuuya’s kitchen island, stretching his arms back.

“What? Has Chuuya started turning into a real slug? Is your hearing failing you? I said I was
leaving.”

“Good! I didn’t want you here, anyways!” He growls.

Chuuya throws a fork at him with his ability, but Dazai dodges it easily.

“Hmph. Neither did I. I just came out of necessity, and now my day is ruined by seeing your face.”

“Don’t come back, you heartless bastard. I’d rather you kill yourself than have to be in the same
room as you ever again!” Chuuya exclaims.

“Kill me then!” Dazai says, walking out the door.

“I will, just you wait.” He promises.

Chapter End Notes

HII!! what do you think about the different pov?? i really wanted to have an insight as
to what Chuuya has been up to, considering he and dazai don't get to hang out much at
the moment..

tell me if you'd want to see more point of views of other characters, or if you prefer
mostly dazai povs!! (of course since it's dazai centric, it'll mostly be from his
perspective anyways)
thanks for reading!!
 Detective work
Chapter Summary

making friends???!?!? actually doing work for mori?? what is happening here????
(chapter 25 edit, read chapter notes for more info)

Chapter Notes

HI GUYS!!! so basically.. like two days after posting chapter 25 I was like 'wow. that
second half just does not fit.' (the part with shinsou after school and stuff) its just too
much of a filler to be significant RN but it's still going to be a canon thing!! just a bit
later!! so half of it you may have already read, but everything after lunchtime is
changed.

sorry for the inconvenience.. hope you enjoy the revamped chapter though!!!

Going back to school, for lack of a better word, is boring. He’s been sworn to secrecy by the police
and he’s not close enough to the other classmates involved to chat about what happened during
internships with them. When he crawled back to his apartment this morning to change, Fyodor was
nowhere to be found. Seizing the opportunity for a drink, he relaxed into the lovely feeling of
intoxication before begrudgingly heading to school. Now here he was, half listening to the morning
announcements during homeroom.

“Your final exams are coming up soon. There will be a practical and written test involved, so I
suggest you start studying. Good luck.” With that, Aizawa closes the door.

A man of few words, really. Aizawa had been side-eyeing Dazai for the whole of homeroom. It
was understandable after their unfortunate conversation. Dazai was just crossing his fingers that he
would drop it.

He attempted to act unnoticeable and interested in his studies to draw his teacher’s attention away,
but he ended up getting bored and folding his worksheets into paper boats. He picked up origami a
few years ago when testing a suicide method via papercuts. Normal papercuts didn’t cut it, so he
tried an array of shapes to see what would reward him with profitable results.

As soon as Aizawa shuts the door, the class erupts into chatter.

Ashido and Kaminari erupt into a surprisingly synchronised “I haven’t studied at all!”

Others, albeit a bit quieter, all start to converse with their neighbours about their tests. He glances
at Yaoyorozu who placed second. Of course, he placed first. What genius would he be if he didn’t
rank top of a class of high schoolers? If he makes up for his lack of physical everything with
intellect, then there’s less of a chance he’ll be expelled for lack of effort. Aizawa is bound to catch
on eventually in regard to his total lack of enthusiasm towards the whole hero business. Or God
forbid, the principal.
Midoriya, who has become a frequent source of entertainment for Dazai, doesn’t look that worried.
He would have thought the boy would be more stressed, considering how he consistently looks one
jumpscare from passing away. He turns his body to face Dazai.

“Ahh... With all the events lately, I haven’t had time to study..” Midoriya sheepishly admits,
jumping on the topic that everyone seemed to be raving about.

“I don’t need to study. I’m already too smart.” Dazai comments gleefully.

“You don’t study!? But you got first place in midterms!”

Kaminari turns to look at him with envy, and Ashido quickly follows. Actually, a few people are
looking at him in curiosity. He’s quite offended by the few surprised faces. He doesn’t look dumb,
that’s Chuuya’s job.

“Dazaiiii!” Kaminari whines, “Teach me, please!”

The yellow-haired boy brings himself to his knees in front of Dazai’s desk in a begging gesture. He
looks down

“Hmmm…” Dazai pauses in anticipation. “No.”

“Why?!”

Dazai has more important things to do, like playing detective for Mori. Finding out the UA traitor
can’t be that hard. All he needs to do is somehow get all their files. From that, he can investigate
their backgrounds and go from there. Easy peasy. If he has to, he’ll interrogate them one by one.

“A magician never reveals his secrets. Ask Yaoyorozu, she got second place. Plus she’s probably a
much better teacher than me!” He lays on the compliments thick.

Dazai isn’t a terrible teacher, he’s sure he could do it if he tried. Teaching just seemed so boring.
There was no point reiterating knowledge he always knows for someone else. With the attention
diverted, he thought he could finally relax. Ectoplasm walks in soon after Aizawa leaves, quieting
the class down as they all dejectedly return to their seats. Dazai twirls his pen around in his hand.
He silently hopes it’ll fly out of his hand and into his eye. Or Ectoplasm. Can he even see? All he
has are the whites of his eyes. No iris, no retina.

He’s droning on about revision for final exams. Dazai obviously doesn’t need it, but Kaminari and
Sero are looking at Ectoplasm like he just bought them a puppy. Speaking of dogs, Chuuya pops up
in his mind.

His chest tightens at the thought of seeing him again although it has only been a day. The longer he
and Chuuya part ways, the more his heart twists and knots when they cross paths. It’s not love.
Dazai has never been loved, and will never love in return.

He is lonely. It’s a surprising notion, considering a grotesque thing like him can feel such
emotions. Chuuya is different to Oda and Ango. The other two won’t understand like Chuuya does.

Loneliness is like an old wound, a scar; one day it creeps up behind you and envelopes your body
in an uneasy eternal hug.

He’s been lonely for as long as he can recall. He’s not special for feeling it; everyone does at some
point.
He’s hastily packing up his books so he can get to snooping around when he feels someone’s eyes
on him. Midoriya is staring at him with a strange look. He’s been doing that a lot today. He kind of
looks constipated. Midoriya is about to open his mouth to presumably speak to Dazai, encouraging
him to pack his books at the speed of lightning.

Unfortunately, his speed isn’t enough. The green-haired student poses a terrible question:

“Will you sit with us at lunch, Dazai?”

He could say no… but it’s suspicious that he never eats in the cafeteria. His sleuthing! His
detective work! Ruined, by one student. Well, he could try to collect information on them. Pry into
Midoriya’s life and whatnot like a schoolgirl harassing her crush. Plus, Aizawa won’t talk to him
about his everything around others. One point to Dazai.

“Of course!” He replies cheerfully.

“Thank goodness. I was so nervous you’d say no..” Midoriya mutters as they walk out of class
together.

For someone with that much power and intelligence, Midoriya is awfully shy. And not shy in an
anxious way. It’s learned anxiety, which strengthens the ‘Midoriya received a quirk from either All
for One or All Might’. Quirkless people get bullied all the time. He fits the category. Maybe he
should ask Bakugou, he would probably admit something about Midoriya’s life before UA.

“Am I really that unapproachable?” He teases, wagging his fingers at Midoriya.

The former stammers out some sort of apology before hardening his gaze. He grabs Dazai’s arms
hesitantly, touching him as if he’s fragile.

“Are you... Ok? After the um, incident, you were really injured. I wanted to stay until you woke,
but Aizawa-sensei made us all leave. Iida is worried too! We all are!”

“Yup! I know I can’t have Recovery Girl magically heal all my wounds, but I’m pretty tough.” He
says, patting his stomach. “It barely even hurts!”

Midoriya sighs with relief, giving him a warm smile. “I’m glad!”

While looking at Dazai, he fails to notice the loose shoelace on his left foot. He flares his arms out
as the book in his hands flies out. He rights himself quickly in a wobbly step, but the same can’t be
said for the book. It crashes to the floor in a flurry of pages fluttering open. Dazai bends down to
snatch it, taking interest in the page that had a fold on it.

Dazai’s own ability name stares back at him. It’s a page about him. About his wretched ability.
There’s little information on it, thankfully. He turns to the other pages in curiosity and his other
classmate’s quirks are all there. Bakugou’s page is clearly the most thought-out. That lines up with
evidence too. He really needs to have a conversation with that ass.

“You analyse quirks?” He asks, already knowing the answer as he hands the book back.

“Ahh… Yes.” He admits. “I’ve always loved analysing them. It’s been a hobby since my
childhood. Speaking of, can I ask you a few questions about yours? Is it in your blood? But if it is,
it’s a mutation because your blood cells would have to differ from the standard. How many quirks
can you nullify at a time? Oh, and-”

“You have something on your collar.” Dazai murmurs, gliding his hands under Midoriya’s blazer
collar.

He squeaks and his face lights up like a tomato. Dazai smiles amusedly at Midoriya’s shyness,
watching his eyes dart from place to place until he settles on the table where all of his friends are.
He quickly signals to them, giving Dazai a push toward it while running away to the lunch table.
He shrugs, taking a seat next to Iida. He’s sure they won't mind.

They all look at him with mild levels of curiosity. He gives a small smile and waves with one hand,
the other being used as a pillow for his chin.

“It is very good to see you here Dazai! I take that Midoriya’s invite turned out positive?” He says
enthusiastically.

“Yup.”

“I haven’t talked to you yet. It’s nice to meet you, ribbit.” Asui comments, taking a bite out of her
bread.

“Likewise, Asui!”

“Call me Tsu.”

Midoriya takes that moment to arrive back with a steaming Katsudon from the looks of it. He pulls
up a chair from another table to sit at the end of it, with Dazai and Uraraka on either side.

“You’re not eating?” Uraraka asks, directing everyone’s eyes to his lack of tray.

She’s chowing down on a bowl of rice. All of their food seems well prepared, Lunch Rush is
cooking, after all! He actually has no idea who that is, but Midoriya gushed about him so he must
be someone important.

“Hm? Oh no, not feeling it.”

“It is important for a hero in training to not be irresponsible with their eating habits! We must all
have a well-balanced diet to produce our fullest potential of ourselves! Personally, my diet revolves
largely around vegetables and high-quality protein. Although today I chose to eat the curry with
rice, I’m still eating a side salad to balance out the food groups.”

His diet literally only consists of crab and alcohol. And food with lots of msg. It’s kind of balanced
if he thinks about it. Just not really a balance of the right things.

“Has anyone ever told you that you talk a lot?”

“Agh!!” Uraraka throws her arms in the air. “I’m so nervous about the exams!”

“I should be able to manage the written exam because it’s just stuff we’ve learned in class but…
Seriously, what do we have for the practical?” Midoriya wonders aloud.

“It’ll probably be stuff we’ve learned in class.” Dazai chimes in.

“Yeah, like combat and rescue training.” The gravity user adds on.

“Aizawa-sensei hasn’t told us more than that.” Tsu says dejectedly.

Dazai can sympathise, but also could care less. He has bigger fish to fry than some little exam.
Actually, the practical may be difficult. He swears it’s been robots the past few years, not that he’d
tell anyone here. The worst-case scenario is that he does average and everyone does worse than
him, so he’s top of the class. But, because of the League, he suspects they’ll switch it up a bit.

Before anyone can say anything, a blonde student elbows Midoriya in the head. Is that… wine on
his plate?!?! He almost starts to salivate at the thought. He’s turning into Chuuya…

But, it is a school, he reminds himself. The teenager in front of them most likely selected a wine
glass to feel fancy. Why anyone would subject themselves to that stupid glass shape is beyond
Dazai.

“Whoops! I bumped into your head because it was so big!”

“Hey! It’s um, you from class b! Uh, Monoma! How dare you!” Midoriya fumes at the insult.

It was a pretty petty insult to get upset over. He would have laughed if Monoma told it to him.

“I heard you guys met the Hero Killer.”

Wow, what a punch to the gut, pun intended. He forgot that they were mentioned in the news.
Whoops. Dazai prays that he’s not recognised.

“Just like at the sports festival, 1-A has to have all the attention on them! But that attention isn’t
because people have high hopes for you. It’s because you keep attracting trouble, right?” His face
takes a sinister turn. “It’s scary that someday the rest of us may get caught up in trouble brought by
you all and become victims…

“Wow, you’re right! 1-B is so irrelevant I might transfer to get out of the spotlight… No more
news stories for me!” Dazai interrupts, gleefully watching Monoma’s face turn from cocky to
prideful.

Before he can retaliate, he’s knocked out by a giant hand with a pretty girl at the end of it. She
effortlessly catches his tray with the fake wine on it.

“Monoma, that’s not funny. Don’t you know what happened to Iida?”

“Kendo!” Ah, so that was her name!

“Sorry 1-A, Monoma’s, well… an ass. You were talking about what’s going to be on the practical
exams earlier, right? Looks like it’ll be a combat exam against robots like the entrance exam.”

“Really?! How did you find out?” Midoriya asks excitedly.

“An upperclassmen friend told me…” She confesses. “It’s kind of cheating, though.”

Midoriya begins to mutter about rules and debates whether it’s not cheating or is. Dazai takes that
as his queue to slip away. He’s making a beeline toward the file rooms, hoping to be able to get a
peek at the 1-A ones before lunch ends. But no, God hates him. The bell rings just as he passes his
own classroom. He groans, dragging his feet to his desk. At least he can sit out for All Might’s
class. Yay.

Dazai sits next to All Might, groaning at the sun blaring onto his face. Since it’s ‘such a nice day’
he forced 1-A to do their training outside. He wonders if he sits in the sun long enough, he’ll melt
onto the concrete. It’s a method of suicide that probably hasn’t been done before. He could make
world records!
The giant man next to him isn’t even sweating. And he’s got that skintight suit on. Dazai is amazed
by the tenacity of heroes. It’s inspiring. A commotion drives Dazai’s attention away from All
Might, straining to see the faraway event through the glare of the sun. All Might flies over, leaving
a gush of wind that significantly cools the bandaged boy down.

He begrudgingly jogs over too, his interest sparked. Ojiro is leaning up against Shoji’s many arms,
wincing.

“I’m so so sorry! I didn’t mean to drop you, I just got distracted and my control slipped!” Uraraka
cries, looking way more distressed than the actual injured person.

“It’s fine, really..” Ojiro trails off in a pretty bad attempt to comfort her.

All Might bends over to pat her on the back lightly, smiling softly. Her eyes tear up a little bit when
Ojiro tries to move and yelps.

“It’s alright, young Uraraka! Mistakes happen. I don’t want to carry Ojiro to Recovery Girl in case
I disrupt his injuries. Can anyone bring her here?”

Dazai taps his hand on All Might’s shirt. “I can do it since I’m not participating in class. Plus, I’ve
been to her office before so I know where it is.”

“Thank you!”

He skips off, eager to leave the sun. Even so, it’s the perfect opportunity for him. The halls are
desolate with all the classes in motion. He knocks on Recovery Girl’s door eagerly. Dazai waits a
few seconds, hearing shuffling and conversation from the other side of the door. She finally opens
it, looking up at him.

“What can I do for you, dearie? I hope you haven’t pulled any stitches.” She muses while ushering
him inside.

There’s a girl sitting on a bed in the room, looking at them with barely contained curiosity. She has
a few bloodied tissues around her, but doesn’t seem to be actively bleeding. Probably a nosebleed
then.

They make eye contact. She’s the first to jump up.

“Holy shit, you’re alive” Hishiro exclaims,

“Obviously. Do you really think I’d die easily?”

“No, but I thought you would have offed-”

“Recovery Girl!” Dazai cheers, turning his whole body to the short woman watching them with
interest. “All Might sent me to ask you to come to the PE grounds. One of my classmates injured
his leg.”

“Oh my. Hishiro, run along to your class. Try to manage your quirk use better. Dazai, come with
me to the grounds.”

“Yes ma’am!” He says, giving a side glare at Hishiro.

She rolls her eyes at him and gathers her blazer that she had discarded whenever she came in.
Recovery Girl closes the door behind them, walking to the PE grounds.
“What course is Hishiro in?” He inquires.

“Shouldn’t you already know? You’re good friends, by the looks of it. Oh well. She’s apart of the
support course, one of the top in her grade!”

“As I suspected…” He nods gravely, before noticing the signs that they’re making their way past.
“Excuse me! I really need to, do my business… Can you go ahead without me?”

Dazai acts almost bashful, avoiding eye contact with the teacher. She chuckles, giving him a ‘go
ahead’. He rushes in, slowing down to stand by the sink. He just has to wait until her footsteps
can’t be heard. Can she walk any faster? Someone’s taking a shit at the end stall and it’s stinking
up the entire room.

Yes, that is its intended purpose. It’s still unpleasant. Finally, the pitter-pattering of her steps quiets
down and he starts briskly walking the way he just came. The nurse’s office is nondescript and
bland from the outside. The pattern follows into the inside. Dazai rattles the doorknob, which
thankfully is unlocked.

He steps in, closing the door behind him immediately. He’s looking for the records room. It may
seem bizarre to keep it in the nurse's office, but Dazai is almost certain it’s there. Due to the
abnormal amount of injuries students obtain throughout the courses, things like student records
with allergies and past injuries are important to have on hand. Plus, they’re almost always protected
by Recovery Girl. Although her quirk is specialised in healing, she should have combat training.

But behold, there’s a thin door placed right next to the opening door. Since it opens inwards, the
door would have to be closed to access the records room. Smart placement. Villains open the door,
look around, leave and shut the door.

Dazai first grasps the doorknob, frowning when it doesn’t open. No worries. He kneels onto one
knee, slipping the bobby pin out from between his layers of bandages. After jiggling it around
inside the lock for a bit, the door pops open with ease. He coughs at the dust and stagnant air
pushing out of the small room.

The records are organised by class (thank god), so he takes all of them and shoves them into the
plastic bag that he brought along. He replaces them with the blank ones he crafted the day before.
They’re not his best work, but they’ll do the trick. Unless a teacher actually looks inside. He’ll
return them as soon as he can, anyways. Sometime tomorrow.

Recovery Girl might be on her way back. He relocks the door, sprinting out of the nurse's office to
class 1-A. If he can just put them in his bag-

“What are you doing here?” Aizawa questions from his sleeping bag as he first steps into the
classroom.

Dazai quickly moves the bag out of sight. Why is he here?? Doesn’t he have classes to teach?

“Erm… Well, Ojiro got hurt. I thought you may need to know!”

“Has Recovery Girl seen him?”

“Yes…”

“Then it doesn’t matter. I’m going back to sleep.” He ends the conversation there, turning back
over.
Dazai narrows his eyes at him, then decides he really didn’t see the bag. Dazai doesn’t see any
more reason to stay, so he walks off casually until he can sprint back to the bathrooms. Thank God
no one is there. He needs to hide the bag until the end of class. A stall? No, it can’t get wet.

He looks up, spying the air vents up high on one of the walls. If he stands on the sink he can reach
it and unscrew it. He takes out one of his knives, using it as a makeshift screwdriver to get them off
enough to slip the bags in. Dazai pushes them far enough back that they’re not noticeable, then
screws the bolts on lightly.

He steps back, admiring his work. A genius plan, really. He needs a smoke for this. Ah, he’s
probably been gone too long. That’s a really long shit he's supposed to be taking. Dazai wanders
out nonchalantly, speedwalking toward the PE grounds. Two figures approach in the distance.

“There you are Dazai, I was starting to worry.” Recovery Girl says.

“Ah… Well, I felt a bit sick. But I do feel better now! Must have eaten too much lunch.”

“You should have said something!” She smacks him lightly on the head with her cane, then sighs.
“What am I going to do with you all? Head back to your class.”

He grins and nods, skipping off in the direction of his class.

 Evil lairs
Chapter Summary

More secret revealing..

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

As much as Dazai would rather find a nice deep lake to jump into, he does have to do some work.
After all, what’s the point in being at UA if he can’t uncover a dirty secret or two?

Now that he’s got the student files, that’s one thing done out of two. He takes another quick glance
at Midoriya; He’s raptly watching Iida run around in circles. Dazai wilts into the concrete wall he’s
leaning on, bringing his legs up to his chest. Why is it so hot? He rummages through his pocket to
find his phone.

There’s a message from Chuuya, cussing him out for one thing or another. He decides to send one
last antagonising message to him before checking the time. 2:55. All he has to do is wait an
excruciating five more minutes.

Two minutes tick by, and Dazai creates multiple theories about the principal. What if he’s an alien
sent to Earth from a planet where animals rule the world?? What if he’s actually a rat specimen and
reports to Fyodor every Tuesday afternoon? Two more minutes pass by. He’s moved on to
speculating if Kouyou and Midnight could fall in love if he set them up elaborately. At some bar,
probably. With expensive drinks. Forbidden love! He sees it, if Midnight wouldn’t mind a scary
assassin as a girlfriend. Actually, Kouyou would probably have more of an issue with her. She’s
always on about separating ‘darkness from light’. He gets the sentiment, but it's also kind of
boring. Surprisingly, the last minute is spent doing nothing but going back to looking at the field.

In those few minutes, he’s found that he’s unfortunately the only one around. Everyone’s most
likely gone to change back into their uniforms. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices Midoriya
(not in his PE uniform) walk out of the changerooms. The towering hero near Dazai lights up at the
sight of the student, walking swiftly to meet him.

Dazai dramatically jumps into a bush next to where All Might approaches Midoriya. He tries to
imagine he’s flinging himself off a building, but it just doesn’t have the same allure. A branch
pokes into the side of his ribs. He clenches his teeth, biting on his tongue to stop himself from
violently snapping the branch. Dazai’s hearing fails him as he is only able to make out a few
words. Ones that include ‘chat’ and ‘office’. By the way Midoriya is nodding, it seems that he’s
finally going to get some answers.

The two walk off together while they chat idly. For someone supposedly close to All Might, he
seems so nervous around him. Midoriya has such a shy but excited smile on his face as if it’s
permanently sewn onto him. The blonde returns with a boisterous one. They both seem so oddly
cozy with each other.

Dazai follows casually, walking past them to quickly grab his schoolbag from the classroom before
turning back to his favourite place: The bathroom. Not just any bathroom. THE bathroom, the one
he carries out his master plan in. He’s tempted to decorate a stall and label it ‘Dazai’s evil lair.
Beware!’. While it would be hilarious, he doesn’t think some of the teachers would find it funny.

He walks into the room inconspicuously, double-checking for any lurking students before climbing
the sink to retrieve his stolen goods from the vent. If they’re even there. To his relief, they stand in
the same position he left them. Dazai squishes aside all his belongings to make room for the large
folders of paper. Wow, his bag is about to break open from all that space. Oh well. He can take the
files out of the plastic bag after he gets out of school.

After leaning over for a bit too long, he finds himself tilting sideways until his balance is
completely lost. Shielding himself as much as he can, he crashes to the floor with his bag landing
straight on top of him. A few choice words come out of his mouth as he cusses out the ground.
Who made bathroom tiles so hard, anyways? It’s a safety hazard for poor clumsy people like
Dazai.

If he wasn’t as dedicated to his line of work as he was, he may have just given up on everything
entirely. But no, he’s taken a personal interest in it now! Everyone involved should be fearing for
their lives right about now.

He crawls to the stall furthest away from the entrance. Once he locks it and makes himself
comfortable on the closed toilet seat, he pulls out the small box with a pair of headphones. It’s not
state of the art, but not that old either. Dazai’s pretty good with tech-related things. He brings the
headphones to his ears and tunes into the playing sound.

“I’m guessing you um… Wanted to talk about One for All?” Midoriya’s voice plays, slightly
muffled.

“You’re right, my boy!” All Might laughs heartily. “I was very impressed by the use of One for All
during your training, for both the obstacle race in Ground Gamma and the peer-to-peer training!”

“Ah- ah! No, it was just thanks to Grand Torino’s help that I’m able to control 5% of it. I’m still…
unable to control much of it at all. Will I ever be as strong as you?”

There’s a rustling sound and a surprised squeak from Midoriya, but that’s all Dazai can tell.

“I’m proud of you. You’ve only had this new power for a while and there’s no need to compare
yourself to me at the moment. You’re a smart boy who found another way to use One for All that
best suits you! Cherish your accomplishments! Even though my injury from All for One has
rendered me unsuited for heroics, I can still teach and guide you, just like my… mentor did for me.
You’re going to be a fine hero one day.” All Might says with an obvious fondness in his tone.

“Thank you!” He sputters. “Could you tell me a bit about your mentor? I never hear you talk about
her. She’s gone… right? I thought, maybe, it might be lonely.”

“My dear boy, you don’t need to worry about me. But, I can tell you about her. She was also the
past wielder of One for All, the seventh user. She was truly a kind woman who didn’t deserve the
fate that was brought upon her, one who stuck with me and supported me throughout our entire
time together. Her name was Nana Shimura, and I will always carry on her will with me!”

“That's… That's so incredible… but awful!” Midoriya cries out. “I’m sorry you had to go through
that, All Might! She sounded so kind and sweet.”

Sniffles start to fill up Dazai’s headphones. He can only imagine how useless any other
information that comes out of those two will be, so he shuts his device off and stretches his legs.
They’ll probably be in there for a few more minutes.

Dazai sighs, cradling his head in his hands. He cannot wait to drink himself stupid after this.
Tomorrow is the day. The sound of footsteps jolts his mind back into the game and he quickly
collects his bag from the dirty floor. The bathroom stall swings open as he speedwalks to the staff
lounge. Why is the floor so clean? Seriously, he’s never even seen a janitor around. But there must
be some sort of cleaning service.

Maybe it’s someone’s quirk. What a useless power… Actually, nothing is more useless than Kajii’s
ability. He’s only met the man once or twice but can appreciate his burning passion. Though every
time he talks about his own ability, he has to hold in laughter. At least he makes it work. He
remembers Chuuya convincing Kajii to trick him into holding one of his bombs a few months ago.
It wasn’t very discreet. Dazai could tell it was something dangerous, but also hoped it would kill
him. So it was a win-win scenario. Unfortunately, he just ended up in Mori’s clinic injured.

He turns a corner to face the staff room, where coincidentally Midoriya is walking from that
direction. He plants a cheery grin on his face, swinging his bag over his shoulder.

“Midoriya, hey! Didn’t think you’d be staying so late.” Dazai calls, walking over.

“O-oh!” He stammers. “Hello… I was just… checking with our teachers about the content of our
final exams.”

“I see!” Midoriya is not a great liar. “I’d rather die than study, personally. But each to their own.
Speaking of studying, are you going over to Yaoyorozu’s house on the weekend?”

“I think it’s really generous of her to offer to help us all like that, so I’m definitely coming. It’ll be
nice to see all my friends over the weekend.”

Dazai nods, leaning closer to Midoriya until he can pluck the recording device right from under his
collar, where he left it earlier in the day. His hand brushes the fabric to the side to imitate throwing
something off, grazing Midoriya’s cheek. While the green-haired boy flushes at the close
proximity between the two, Dazai leans back.

“You had something on your collar, again. Midoriya is such a clumsy person.” Dazai chides.

“Y-yeah…”

Dazai hums as he slips the device into his pocket, raising his eyebrow at Midoriya’s lack of words.
He looks away awkwardly. It’s almost as if he wants to say something. If he’s not going to say it,
then it doesn’t matter. Dazai waves slyly and starts to walk away.

“See you.”

In his apartment alone, he has time to ponder everything with a nice glass of whiskey. He’s sitting
in his own bathroom, which has a certain charm to it. He’s still avoiding the mirror.

Now that he has confirmation that Midoriya and All Might share the same power, he has some very
important things to look into. There are far too many questions and not nearly enough answers, but
Dazai has always loved a challenge. Nana Shimura, now that’s a familiar name. Unfortunately, he
might have to start digging back into Tenko’s past. A past he’d rather never speak of again, but
answers are more important. The result is always more important.

One for All. All for One. By the looks of it, they're mortal enemies. A power that is passed down
versus an immortal monster. Abilities nor quirks are supposed to be given away. The difference
 between this ‘One for All’ and the rest of society is astonishing. Even though quirks can be passed
down by genetics, no power simply transfers to someone else whenever they feel like it. Nana
Shimura was the seventh user. His first priority is to find the other users and figure out just what's
so special about this mysterious power.

He thinks back to the sports festival. What a stupid event. Maybe he enjoyed it a bit, but he
shouldn’t have. He had gotten too comfortable with his newfound freedom. During Midoriya and
Shinsou’s match, there was that one moment when he could feel multiple presences nearby.
Perhaps there were seven of them, which could correlate to the past users of One for All. But… he
thinks he saw eight. That doesn’t make that much sense unless All Might was there too. He’s not
dead though (duh). The numbers just don’t add up, but maybe there was someone else. A leader,
maybe?

It was frightening to experience them. The dead congregated together in an unnatural way. The
lifeless should stay dead, for they are not useful anymore. But Dazai should not be able to see the
dead. He can’t usually sense abilities very well unless they foster a power on an entirely different
level, like Arahabaki.

His ability only works on other abilities too, so unless the dead are part of Midoriya's ability… One
for All… might be much more than he thinks it is.

Why is Midoriya the chosen one? How can he care so much about a random woman he’s never
met, just because All Might treasured her? It doesn’t make sense.

It is deeply unsettling for Dazai to encounter a bond between two people that is warm. If liquid fire
is the warmth of love, all Dazai has ever known is frigid scalpels and frightening touches. Not a
drop of heat in the hearth.

Mori once told him, long before when he was no one. He said, “You will kill a man, and look
down upon him with no remorse. The only remorse you hold in your heart is for yourself.”

And look where he is now. Isn’t Mori always right? In the end, everything goes back to him with
his syrupy smile and scathing eyes. He was always forgiving though, wasn’t he? No matter how
many times poor little Dazai messed up, Mori always picked up the pieces. Dazai is just a killer.
He’s the boy who killed his father and never looked back.

He’s utterly out of his mind. If someone were to peer inside, he’s afraid he’ll infect them with
whatever incurable disease he’s been born with. Maybe the blood dripping onto the bathroom tiles
with urgency will spread and infect their awful disease into someone else. He’ll clean it up. If he
can’t, someone else will get sick.

Chapter End Notes

guys... im so sorry for not posting in forever

i had a bunch of exams and then I got really worn out, BUT I'm here now (yay..)
 Those stars in the sky
Chapter Summary

An investigation and a bar

Chapter Notes

yay woohoo a long chapter

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Dazai spreads the student records out across his tiny coffee table, checking through them in the
order that they were stored originally. His back strains from the angle he’s in, hunched over almost
as if he’s about to just lie on the table. Fyodor quirks a brow at the papers, peering over Dazai’s
shoulder, before retreating slightly when ends up inhaling some smoke.

“You haven't showered. The smell is clogging up my sinuses, and so is that smoke.” Fyodor
wrinkles his nose.

“I don’t think that’s an actual thing. Besides, it’s my new method of repellant against you.” Dazai
argues, tilting his head toward the Russian teen. “Is it working?”

“Only slightly.” Fyodor’s fingers move to bring his cup of tea to his mouth.

“Rats!” Dazai clamours, clutching his head in false anguish.

There’s a prolonged silence after Dazai’s outburst. Fyodor looks at Dazai unamused. He looks
different without his usual hat on. Dazai smiles back, taking a long drag of his cigarette.

“...That was not funny.”

Dazai waves his hand dismissively at Fyodor, turning to Uraraka’s file. Her family needed
financial aid three years ago, according to this. He recalls her phone being an older model too and
has made comments about not being able to ‘spend too much’ when out with friends. Her family
most likely still struggles with money, considering it’s a family-run business that makes all their
income. Dazai should check for shady deals within the business or general foul play. They could
have been offered money in exchange for her acting as a spy.

There are three ways All for One could motivate someone to become a spy. Money, Revenge
and/or Blackmail. Dazai is sure he has enough money to bribe anyone and could find out anything
he wanted about anyone with enough digging. Although Dazai is not closely connected to heroes
and villains in society, he is not blind to the injustice that goes on in this type of world. There are
many who seek justice for mistreatment.

“You just don’t have a sense of humour. Plus, I know you’re just interested in these papers instead
of talking to me. No need to hide it, Fedya.” Dazai teases, not looking away from his papers. His
fingers search through each piece skillfully.

“Perhaps I am.”

“Hmm, Thought so. You’re very cryptic.”

Now that he looks at the files, much like Midoriya, Aoyama was a late bloomer. Although not as
extremely late as fifteen years old, developing a quirk at age eight is rare. Combined with the fact
that his quirk also doesn’t act like it’s made for his body, it raises questions. That’s just speculation
though… considering the man named Dabi that Chuuya told him about. A body that’s not resistant
to his firepower that gives him terrible scarring around his body. Hell, even Chuuya’s body isn’t
meant for his power! But that’s slightly different.

Dazai leans away from his work to examine Fyodor. He takes the chance to ask a question that’s
been circulating in his mind for a while.

“If you tell me why you’re in Musutafu, I’ll kiss you.” Dazai murmurs, cupping Fyodor’s cheek.

Fyodor looks blankly at him, staring into Dazai’s eyes with his own. It would be almost romantic,
if they weren’t Dazai and Fyodor. Neither can love, not really. Maybe fleeting emotions that
cannot be placed, but never love. That’s what Dazai tells himself. Instead of romance, they’re both
most likely working overdrive to figure out each other’s thought processes. A game that’s always
running between them.

“I will not kiss someone who has just smoked a cigarette. It’s dirty.” He says like a stuck-up kid,
but his eyes flicker to Dazai’s lips in interest. Fyodor’s never had a lover, since he cannot be
touched by most.

“But you’ll tell me why you’re in Musutafu?”

“...Alright. As long as you will not interfere.” Fyodor hesitantly agrees.

“At the moment no, but maybe in a few months when I’m not busy I’ll drop by to mess things up.”
Dazai vaguely promises, pulling a thumbs up.

Fyodor sighs, consuming his tea for far longer than necessary. He looks somewhat at peace gazing
into the mug half-filled with the opaque liquid.

“There is a mafia here in Musutafu that is developing quirk erasing bullets. I have taken interest in
them, but since they are not complete yet, I have to infiltrate the organisation slowly. It will not do
to kill the people who are developing the project.” He stops, looking out the window to stare at
something that isn’t there. Sometimes Dazai pities Fyodor for his religious delusions. “Once it is
complete though, I will have no need for them. I will cleanse them of all their sins.”

Dazai’s eyes flit to the window, taking in the sun that’s unfortunately shining straight through his
windows. It falls over Fyodor’s face almost majestically.

“That’s interesting. If you do get them, try shooting me. I’d be ecstatic to get rid of my ability.”

“Dazai, your ability is the noblest of them all. Much like me, it was born from the heavens to
cleanse mankind of sin and power. Please dear, won’t you join me?” He says it calmly, but Dazai
can hear the pleading undertones buried somewhere far underneath that demon.

Dazai leaves Fyodor without an answer, as he has before. Fyodor accepts the lack of response.
Slowly, the sun begins to set.
Hagakure has a minor offence for shoplifting from junior high with that quirk, that makes sense.
That’s the first kind of offence he’s seen on any of the files yet. Her quirk is the best for
infiltration, but also means she can’t disguise herself. Disguise can be a very important aspect of
infiltration. People with powers that can be identified by their physical being make it harder to
blend in. So, her quirk has mostly pros and very few cons to it in regard to undercover missions.
He’ll take a look into the offences and find out what she was like in junior high.

A deep melodic hum rings out in a tune somewhat familiar. Dazai’s head twists to find thin dark
hair draped over maple and spruce. Fyodor is perched on the opposite end of the table from where
Dazai is. He can’t figure out the song being played on the cello, but it is nostalgic in a way he
cannot place. He’s surprised Fyodor bothered to find one of them in Musutafu.

Perhaps it is an apology from Fyodor for asking him to do something impossible, to assist in
making his future come true. He’s never been able to express remorse well, mostly because of the
rarity of that emotion.

“Is this an apology, Fedya?” Dazai guesses, tracing the smooth wood of the cello.

Fyodor ignores him, eyes glazing over as he concentrates wholly on his instrument. His pale fingers
weave through each string meticulously with utmost grace, but not without the methodical process
that shadows all his actions. The bow he is holding glides over the strings serenely, and together it
creates something breathtaking. Dazai is not one to appreciate live music more than recorded
music, but there is something about Fyodor’s playing that strikes a nerve in Dazai. To see someone
so cruel play something so captivating makes Dazai wonder if he could do something as wonderful
someday. Dazai closes his eyes so he can listen to the music for a few minutes uninterrupted.

“Your playing is always beautiful.” He hums as he opens another file and brings his break to an
end.

The Todoroki family is shady. Out of all his classmates, Todoroki should be the most likely to turn
to villainy. There’s an obvious family-related trauma: after digging into it a bit more, Todoroki Rei
is in a mental institute. Todoroki Touya is supposedly dead (although… Dabi has a similar quirk to
him when they’re compared). Todoroki Shouto hates the side of his quirk he inherited from his
father. No, the Todoroki family doesn’t paint a pretty picture at all. But with ties to heroes come a
lack of ties to villains. It would be hard for him to make contact with villains unless Dabi had
something to do with it. Apparently, he hates Endeavour just like Todoroki Shouto does.

“Thank you,” Fyodor replies with stifled mirth, pushing his mug of tea to Dazai. “Would you like
any? It’s green.”

The music ceases to be, causing Dazai to quirk his eyebrow at Fyodor because of the sudden
change. He sets the instrument

“No, I prefer whiskey.”

“Those are two completely different drinks.” Fyodor deadpans, taking his drink back protectively.

Dazai sighs, eying the drink. It’s not like he wanted any in the first place. Tea doesn’t taste like that
much to him, he’d rather something stronger in taste. The other boy always opts for weaker drinks
and food.

“Will you stay with me tonight, Fedya? I’m terribly lonely.” Dazai abruptly requests, toying with a
piece of deep black hair between his pointer and thumb. His eyes search Fyodor’s own.
“I cannot. I have business to attend to.”

Dazai’s eyes flicker downwards to the table following the rejection, tracing the dents and coffee
cup stains etched into it. He can’t tell if he cares, or if he just wants to push someone’s buttons.

“You’ve stayed with me before.” Dazai points out. “Even in the middle of that attack on that one
military group.”

“You’re right, but I won’t stay.” He runs his fingers through Dazai’s hair, nails scraping exactly
where they should. “I do not wish to.”

“You’re cruel to me, sometimes. Out of all the nights you’ve stayed over at this apartment, you
can’t fathom another one?”

“I have more important things to take care of. Goodnight.” Fyodor stands disruptively, brushing
Dazai’s hand off.

His steps are quiet as he picks up his ushanka from the kitchen island and packs the cello into a
pristine case. It rests in the corner where the rest of Fyodor’s meagre belongings pack together like
a mismatched puzzle.

Fyodor leaves the small apartment without another word, closing the door with a resounding thud.
Agh, whatever. Dazai’s cigarette is long put out, ash dusting over the cedar table. It might be nice
to go out to a bar, he thinks. Dazai’s fings rake at his hair, loosening the threads somewhat combed
by Fyodor.

So, his four most probable subjects are Uraraka, Todoroki, Hagakure and Aoyama. He can
investigate them all another day…

He organises all the UA student records and piles them right next to the satchel he takes to school,
knowing that he’ll most likely be too intoxicated later on. He’s really doing himself a favour here.
Maybe he’ll visit Chuuya on the weekend… or take the trip to Yokohama. Bar Lupin must miss
him by now. The three of them probably keep the bar running with how much they spend there, or
used to spend there. He vaguely wonders if Oda and Ango still go to the bar every day. He thinks
he’d feel disappointed if they all stopped.

He finally takes the opportunity to shower because he needs to rewrap his bandages either way.
Dazai roughly dresses in his usual dress shirt and black vest with pants, but decides to leave the
jacket. It’s too hot for it. He barely has any informal clothes, but it doesn’t actually matter. They’re
only clothes.

He makes his way downtown with some cash and the fake id he obtained a while ago looking for a
bar. It’s a bit of a nuisance to discover new places. It’s also the first time he’s had to use a fake id to
get into a bar. Back in Yokohama, they welcome him anywhere. Not that he goes anywhere but the
Bar Lupin most of the time.

The air has a humidity to it that Dazai dislikes. He can see a few mosquitoes under the newly
turned-on streetlights. He never has to worry about bugs like them, considering he’s mostly
covered in bandages, but they’re still an eyesore. He dislikes the buzzing sound they make.

Dazai stops and eyes a quiet-looking bar. If he leans to the side enough, he can see the inside that’s
decorated with red velvet furniture and deep spruce tables. His eyes trail to the bouncer at the front.
He’s less muscled than usually known to be, but Dazai doesn’t doubt any capabilities. He waltzes
up, handing the fake ID to him with full confidence. It’s flawless, as expected as the man moves to
the side to allow him in. Dazai nods and smiles as the ID is returned to him.

While the bar is still relatively unoccupied, he still finds himself moving to a secluded area of the
barstools. There’s a display of orange and white flowers near him that he finds himself staring at as
he ponders his first drink of choice.

He settles on a glass of whiskey on the rocks to kick the night off. Later on, he doubts he’ll care as
much. He groans at the prospect of school tomorrow.

The bartender places his drink in front of him and he mutters some sort of thank you in return. The
glass leaves a ring of water imprinted on the table. He supposes if it’s been coated in some sort of
resin, it won’t stain.

He props his elbow up onto the pristine wooden tables, resting his cheek on his hand. His other
hand plays with the glass of whiskey. It smells like just all whiskey does, but he hadn’t stopped to
ask what specific type. Or, he doesn’t really care. He wonders if they have some sake. Hmm… No,
that’s better at home. Dazai brings the glass to his mouth, drinking it all in one go. The burn down
his throat is awfully familiar but not unwelcome. The whiskey isn’t as good as Bar Lupin’s, but
that might just be his bias toward the atmosphere rather than the actual alcohol.

“Rough night?” She inquires, taking his glass for a refill at his request.

“Mm… Yeah, sorta.” He hums, paying more attention to the warmth instinctively spreading
through his body. “Would you commit suicide with me?” His tone is glum.

“What?!” Her composure slips at the absurdity of the request, but quickly regains her poise.
“That’s inappropriate of you to ask, sir. Please leave if you’re going to make any more comments.
And… you’re not alone. Suicide isn’t worth it. If you need to talk, I’ll lend an ear.”

She looks at him firmly and slightly sad. What a kind woman. Dazai stares at her dejectedly for a
good three seconds before breaking into a cheerful clap.

“Whoops! No problem… It was worth a shot. Don’t let me ruin your night!” He says, finishing off
his second drink. “A third, please? Oh, but make it a gin and tonic!”

She reluctantly serves him his third drink. He chats joyfully, much unlike his earlier mood. He
loves alcohol. How did he survive without it for a day? He’s never becoming sober again. He sighs
pleasantly at the buzz it gives him, allowing his vision to blur in the corners of his vision when he
moves. Soon enough, he’s on his fourth drink.

As soon as he finishes, he asks for another. But she refuses, so he begrudgingly pays and leaves.
He can walk fine because obviously, he’s better than a stumbling drunk. Although he can still
think, so he definitely hasn’t drunk enough. Dazai wanders down a street, shadow twisting under
every streetlight he passes in search of more liquor. His gaze finds everything much more
interesting than a few hours ago, from other shadows to stragglers on the road.

Once a shop comes into view, a bottle of sake in an ugly paper bag is his for the taking. The bag is
a stupid idea, regardless if you’re legally allowed to bring alcohol around in public or not. It’s so
late into the night any bottle wouldn’t be identified. He drinks and walks, admiring the sky above
him.

And finally, the dizziness catches up to him. After the amount he’s drunk, he can barely stand.
Dazai’s knees wobble as he makes his way into a park, spotting a few benches and tables.

Dazai collapses on a bench, watching the spinning world around him like he’s on a carousel. It’s
the closest he’ll ever get to one. The bottle crashes out of his hands onto the pavement, soaking
through the brown paper bag until its mush blends into the dirt.

He blearily tries to go back to counting the specks in the sky, reaching out his arm to point them
out to himself.

“Holy shit, it’s you. There’s no way!” A voice says accusingly, coming into Dazai’s side-view.

He turns his head lazily to the source. That purple hair is distinctly familiar, even with the hood
covering it. Looking at his warm clothes makes Dazai jealous. It was too warm earlier today, but
with the sun gone completely, the weather has cooled down significantly. He’s crossing his arms
somewhat angrily with a scowl on his face. Dazai’s arm is still outstretched upwards, so he brings
it down to wave at the newcomer.

“Shinsou!” He slurs, grinning at the boy above him. “Wanna play hopscotch? Oh, I love a good
scotch.”

“It’s one in the morning. Jesus, are you drunk?” He replies, glancing down at him with a funny
look on his face.

He can’t tell if it's disgust or even pity. Shinsou’s shoe kicks the ground impatiently

“I don’t know… Am I?” He giggles like a little kid. “Going to tell UA?”

“I could take your spot in the hero course if I told them.” He states threateningly before his face
crumples. “How did someone like you get in, and not me?”

He looks almost torn at the notion. Dazai’s not the only teenager who drinks, cut him some slack.

“Ah… I don’t want the spot. I just want to go back home. Oda’s waiting for me.” Dazai mumbles.
“How rude of me! Sit, sit. Wouldn’t want to disturb your hopscotch.” He scoots aside as much as
he can manage while still lying down. Now his legs have basically fallen off the bench.

“I wasn’t playing hopscotch.”

“Hmm… then what are you doing out here? There’s a bruise forming on your face. Didn’t think
someone as righteous as you would get into fistfights.” Dazai quirks his eyebrow at him as much
as he can manage.

Fear flashes through Shinsou’s eyes. He steps back, cradling his injured cheek. It’s going to leave a
nasty bruise. Dazai wonders how he’s going to try to cover it up at school. Shinsou presses into it
accidentally and bites down some sort of expression of pain. Instead of cowering, he becomes very
defensive.

“I didn’t fight anyone! I’m not a villain!” He growls, sending an accusatory glare at Dazai.

“Steady there buster! Guess we both have secrets then.” He laughs once again before his body
decides it’s a good idea for him to hurl.

Dazai’s body lurches forward, which sends Shinsou into a panic as he steps back.

His vomit is gross and liquidy, which does make sense. Shinsou, after knocking himself out of his
stupor, darts forward to hold onto his back as he pukes his guts out right next to his poor broken
bottle. There’s no point salvaging the leftover sake at this point. Once he’s sufficiently emptied his
stomach and the air around them smells terrible, he does feel slightly better. And a bit soberer.
“Don’t you dare pass out on me.” Shinsou warns as Dazai’s head droops.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He halfheartedly responds, spitting out the taste of vomit onto the
concrete.

Shinsou practically carries him away to the nearest fast food joint that's open. He’s surprised that
the boy didn’t just leave him half dead on the bench, but each to their own. He sets Dazai in a
booth and goes up to order. Dazai starts counting all the stains on the table as a form of
entertainment so he doesn’t have to move his eyes. His head hurts already, and he’s not even
hungover.

A cup of black coffee is slammed right in front of him. It wasn’t poured very well, there are at least
three drops of it running down the exterior of the cup. Shinsou doesn’t seem to mind the lazily put-
together drink, slurping down a matching one of his own with a large pack of fries in the middle of
them. Dazai isn’t usually one for fast food, but if he wants to make it home without Shinsou, it’s a
small price to pay. He doesn’t know what he’d do if the two of them walked into his apartment
only to find Fyodor performing a ritual. Or sacrificing a chicken.

He munches on his fries with a lack of conversation filling the air. There’s some pop music quietly
playing from a speaker across the room. It’s supposed to make the joint more welcoming, but all it
does is bring Dazai closer to wanting to die. At least grant him some peace and quiet.

“So, why were you out there?” Shinsou starts the dreaded conversation while chewing on an
abnormally large fry.

Dazai hides behind his coffee, slurping extra loudly. His eyes wander to the outside of the fast food
joint. He realises it’s attached to a gas station, something he did not take notice of fifteen minutes
ago.

“You’re going to make me tell you? What happened to our mutual secrets?” Dazai whines loudly,
clutching his chest in pain before doubling over in actual pain as coughs rack his frame. Heavy
drinking does not help one’s throat.

“I paid for the fries and coffee. And didn’t leave you on that bench.”

“Touche…” Dazai sighs, accepting defeat. “I was hoping to drink so much I’d die of alcohol
poisoning but… my wishes haven’t been granted. Lame.”

“What?!”

“Yeah, bet you didn’t expect that one. Well, thanks, but I have to get going. I’m not paying you
back by the way. And if you tell anyone, I’ll let everyone know about those bruises on your face.
I’d hate for a home visit to happen for you.” Dazai stands suddenly, finishing all of his free coffee
and dashing out of the building.

Even when intoxicated, he’s very efficient at avoiding and escaping others. A trick learned from
the mafia. His walk home is quite difficult, to say the least, but he makes it back in one piece. As
soon as he opens the front door, he collapses onto the cool kitchen tiles. Not a bad place to sleep
for the night, he thinks.

Dazai wakes up with the sorest neck to exist. He curses his impaired, drunk mind for even thinking
it was a good idea. He’s also predictably hungover, but somehow has a vague memory of the night.
It’s definitely looking a bit blurry the more he thinks about it though…

He hauls his ass to school with great effort. It’s shocking, but he’s actually early. A good… thirty
 minutes early. Dazai was so out of it this morning he forgot to check the time until he was already
halfway to school. He couldn’t really turn back at that point, so he found himself arriving
atrociously early like those teacher's pets.

Dazai sits at his seat, massaging his temples to try to ease the tension in his head. He’s sure he
somewhat smells like whiskey or sake, but it must have clung to him for so long he can’t notice it
himself. He almost groans at another spike in his head as Iida’s naturally loud voice acknowledges
him.

Except, it’s more subdued than usual. Quite odd.

“Hello, Dazai.’ He greets sternly, his eyes darting around the room to search for any other
listeners. “Can we have a chat?”

He feels like there’s definitely some red flag going off in his mind somewhere about whatever this
chat is, but he’s ignoring it for the sake of trying to not throw up again. He can barely think at this
rate. So he agrees, following Iida into a secluded hallway to chat.

“Soo… What do you want to talk about?” Dazai asks, stretching his arms with his fingers
intertwined. He eyes the engine boy with no anxiety, completely opposite to Iida’s emotions.

“Well, you wanted the Hero Killer to um, kill you and I’ve been thinking about the way you talked
to him like-” He cuts himself off, taking a deep breath before looking Dazai straight in the eyes.
“Dazai… Do you need help? Are you a villain?”

Chapter End Notes

GUYS HI READ THIS PLS: ive decided not to follow the plot of the canon traitor so
it's more suspenseful and so there are no spoilers for the non-manga readers!! but do
take a guess, I'm curious what everyone thinks!!

anwyays... hope you enjoy the chapter!! this fic isn't fyodor/dazai btw.. even if they're
flirting. they just do that sometimes

comments are appreciated!! thanks for readinggg❤️❤️

 That dented handgun
Chapter Summary

Iida and Dazai chat

Chapter Notes

bffs... can someone tell me if they found this fic from tiktok its my dream to be on
those little tiktok rec accounts but Id literally have no idea if mine was on there EVER
ok enjoy the chapter... also I'm editing the older chapters in case anybody wants to
reread the first few when I'm done editing (guys how did some of you read that shit a
year ago it was TERRIBLE.)

Tenya likes to give his classmates the benefit of the doubt. His brother is always telling him it is in
a hero's duty to save and protect first, then ask questions later, so he’s applied that to most things he
does. When a friend is in a pinch or a civilian looks uncomfortable with another person, he’s
always found himself unable to ignore that they are in need. Tenya still wants to save people even
if he can’t save them as a hero just yet. Even though he still wants to save everyone, he still cannot
stand people who break the rules.

Rules are what keep the world running and disrespecting them only makes life more difficult for
everyone. He understands that sometimes the world isn’t always that black and white, but it’s hard
to digest. He’s grown up in a family where things are either ‘right’ or ‘wrong’.

So when he meets Dazai, he finds his ideals twisting and turning and he doesn’t know how to save
them.

At first, Tenya didn’t think much of him. He was a little eccentric or even spooky, but that didn’t
mean anything that bad. The bandages wrapped around most of his body were the only suspicious
thing about him. When he saw them, he jumped to the conclusion that he had been in an accident in
the past and he covered the remnants of his injuries with them.

Everything started to change in Hosu when Dazai met Stain.

For a second during that battle, Tenya felt threatened by Dazai. His words were ruthless and
villainous, calling the Hero Killer a name that Tenya himself didn’t know of until he asked his
brother about it. Dazai was so frightening because everything he said seemed genuine. More
genuine than how he acts at school. His actions were wrong, but he’s supposed to be good if he’s
in a hero school, right? The teachers wouldn’t have allowed him to join otherwise.

Paired with the numerous side comments about Native, Tenya had one thought circling through his
mind: Who is Dazai?

When he started to think about him, all of his other odd habits struck out. Dazai doesn’t eat lunch.
Dazai has no interest in heroes. Dazai never talks about his family. Dazai wants to die. Even the
name of Dazai’s quirk.

There were just so many reasons Dazai didn’t fit into what he was supposed to be. It was as if he’s
an actor playing a part or even a puppet on strings. That got Tenya thinking: What if he didn’t want
to be a hero? If he didn’t want to be a hero, why was he at the school? The only probable answer
was that he was at UA for another reason.

It had been a stroke of luck, really. His brother and he were eating dinner together while their
parents were out.

“Tenya, you won’t believe what has been circulating at work.” Tensei sighs in what could be
disbelief and shakes his head. “There’s been sightings of a mysterious known criminal from
Yokohama, apparently. One that’s famous enough that most people who have illegally visited have
come back frightened by him. Some of the police think it’s just someone messing around, after all,
why would someone like that leave Yokohama?”

A foreboding feeling makes Tenya’s stomach swirl as if there are ants crawling around the inside
of it. Something seems wrong. So unbelievably wrong. He grips his chopsticks harder until he’s
sure his hands have turned white, but he doesn’t dare to look. He gulps and regards his brother
with one question.

“What does he.. Look like?”

“He’s said to have bandages covering every inch of his body, and even one over his eye. I’m not
quite sure about anything else though… That’s what he’s famous for.” He laughs earnestly, before
noticing Tenya’s pale face. “Are you alright Tenya? You look pale.”

And somehow, he just knows. His spirit cracks a little bit and out with it comes everything he’s
ever known. The idea of being friends with someone who murders people makes him so sick to his
stomach that he sprints to the bathroom, stumbling across furniture and walls to heave into the
toilet. Tensei comes rushing after him, rubbing soothing circles on his back until his stomach is
emptied.

His brother is about to question him, but stops at the heartbroken look on Tenya’s face.

“We’ll talk about this tomorrow. Let’s get you into bed.” He almost carries Tenya, despite being
plenty tall and heavy. He should be able to take care of himself, but Tenya just can’t bear to think
about anything else but those bandaged arms and wicked smile.

Tenya knew that it was idiotic to assume about others, so he needed something that points Dazai
towards being a villain. He only found one thing that could act as evidence. During Hero Training
a few days back, Dazai didn’t come back with Recovery Girl. He took it upon himself to go to the
bathroom where he was supposed to be since he had been taking a while. But when he arrived,
there was not a single soul.

There was no other path to the training grounds, so Dazai must have left the bathroom in pursuit
the opposite way. He walked quietly down the hall until he noticed the boy opening Recovery
Girl’s office. He had a terrible feeling that if he got any closer, he’d be found out, so he returned to
ponder his thoughts. It still made him anxious knowing Dazai could have done something
villainous.

So he just had to confront him. To ask about it in hopes that it won't be true. But Dazai just stands
there stupidly for about a second, then begins to laugh.
“I didn’t know you could joke!” Dazai pats him on the shoulder, still snickering. “And you’re
bringing me all the way out here! Seriously man, you have an odd sense of humour.”

Tenya suddenly feels stupid. With how carefree Dazai is, how can he be a villain? But.. since he’s
already asked, he feels compelled to go all the way. It shouldn’t matter if he’s guiltless.

“If I searched for a criminal from Yokohama with bandages everywhere, would you come up?
Would people recognise you as a wanted villain? Please… Dazai, don’t lie to me.”

Nothing is betrayed by Dazai’s expression, it’s almost playful despite the accusation. Tenya
grimaces. He’s never had to confront something this serious.

“Nope.” He says, leaning back onto the wall casually.

“I can tell my brother. There are criminals and government agencies from Yokohama that are in
contact with his agency. If you are innocent, then you will have no problem with this!” He pulls
out his phone, typing out a message. “One click and everyone will investigate.” Tenya continues to
push. He doesn’t know what he’s hoping for.

Dazai’s demeanour shifts completely, his face torn as if Tenya had just slapped him. He takes a
step back, then collapses as the stench of vomit fills the bin next to them. The bandaged boy grasps
it like it’s a buoy in the middle of the sea.

“Iida!” He begs, voice cracking like he’s never heard before. “Please, please don’t tell anyone.”
Dazai’s voice feels raw, clutching onto Tenya so tightly he can feel his nails through his uniform.

“I-” Tenya looks torn, eyes furrowing. “Why are you at UA? What do you want with us?!”

“I can’t leave. I didn’t come here by my own choice. They’ll kill me and my family!” He stutters
over the last word, like it’s foreign to his lips.

He hesitates for a second or two before sighing. Tenya has no idea what to do. He’s scared, but he
knows he has to remain calm. “I’ll hear you out. If I find your reasons unacceptable, I will have to
say something to the heroes. I refuse to put UA in jeopardy.” Tenya says with a tone of finality,
marching to an exit of the building.

Dazai trails after him like a lost puppy, eyes downturned in an attempt to look at anything but
Tenya. He settles for marching straight ahead, turning to make sure the other is still following him
every minute or so. They settle behind the UA building on some grass, where Tenya is staring at
Dazai intensely.

“An explanation would be required, Dazai.”

“I’m not a spy for the League of Villains!” He blurts out frantically. “It sounds suspicious, but I am
from Yokohama. I was sent to keep tabs on the newest generations of heroes and All Might.”

“You mentioned that it wasn’t your choice, the heroes can help! Your family, even yourself, if you
just let me tell my brother-”

“Don’t you understand?! They’ll die. I’ll die.” Dazai clutches his head, pulling at his hair. “No, I’ll
kill myself. If you tell anyone, I’ll kill myself.”

He reaches into his bag, pulling out a small handgun. It’s well worn by the lack of shine on the
metal and the dents in the shape of it, but he presses it right to his temple willingly. Dazai doesn’t
look scared of the gun, but rather scared of Tenya. Like Tenya is the villain.
He tries to open his mouth, but nothing comes out. His hand extends toward Dazai, whose eyes are
glistening and it’s obvious to anyone he isn’t thinking straight. His hand hovers over the trigger.

“Or... If it would make you feel better, you can kill me yourself right here. Murder me now like
you will when you tell the heroes. It’s the same either way. Just make it quick, please.” Dazai
prays, clutching one of Tenya’s hands and bringing it to hold the gun.

The metal is cool to touch, his fingers forcefully pressed onto the machine by Dazai’s other hand.
Tenya’s fingers tremble as he can feel the sweat collect on his forehead and on his fingertips. He’s
going to leave a sweat mark when he takes his hand off the machine. He’s never touched a gun
before this. He hopes he will never have to touch one again.

“I can’t kill you.” Tenya takes his fingers away from the gun and cradles them with his other hand.
He swallows. Is he really going to murder Dazai if he tells a teacher or his family?

Tenya doesn’t want to be a killer. He’s always wanted to be good, to save and protect. What would
Tensei do? Would he sacrifice a boy who is a victim for the sake of everything else?

Dazai sighs, looking disappointed. “You’re doing the same thing by blowing my cover. It’s ok. I
can do it for you.” His own fingers trace the barrel of the gun, all while placed right on his temple
still. He looks scary, Tenya thinks. He looks scared.

Dazai looks like he needs to be saved. And what is a hero who can’t save one person? His finger
finds itself right on the trigger once again, toying with it. And when he looks at Tenya with those
big, sad eyes, he already knows what choice he’s made.

“Stop!” Tenya almost yells, tackling the gun from Dazai’s clutch. He makes no signs of moving.
He looks up at the sky on the grass with resignation. His hair billows in the wind, but he looks like
he’s just died. His eyes flicker to the gun again, just to make sure nothing went off, even though
there was no sound.

Tenya can’t get those eyes out of his head. The readiness to die. “I will refrain from informing
anyone.” He breathes out quietly, almost too quietly to hear. “For now. But, please talk to me. Why
do you want to die?”

Dazai reaches for the gun in Tenya’s grasp, but he pulls away, throwing it far enough from both of
them. Dazai smiles in a relaxed way, but his words are cruel.

“I’ve never had anything to live for. I should have been discarded a long time ago, like a doll that
has stopped working. You cannot fix me. You will never be a hero to me.” It’s like an awful strike
to the chest. He will never be able to help someone.

Dazai’s words are harsh, but Tenya can tell it’s all true to him. He can’t give up, because
eventually, Dazai may change. He might accept help. Tenya just has to convince him in time. So he
allows them to part ways, with flimsy promises of talks to come and secrets held. Tenya hopes that
he’s making the right choice. It’s a heavy burden to hold in his heart.

The only thing he’s done to help was telling Aizawa-sensei about Dazai egging on Stain. He
thought, if anything, his teacher would know what to do. But nothing seemed to have changed
since that day Tenya was discharged from the Hosu general hospital. And from that conversation,
there has not been a change. A pro hero couldn’t get through to him.

He wonders if he could have done anything else when he watches Dazai fade into the distance.
When he looks around to take the gun, he realises it’s gone. The other boy took it back. He follows
Dazai back to class.

—------------

Homeroom is about to begin when Dazai makes his way into class. He can pretend that he just
arrived, that he’s excited for another day of heroics. Before arriving in class, he took a detour to
Recovery Girl’s office. Well, he put up a small camera near her door. All he needs to do is wait for
her to leave, and then his plan is set.

Uraraka takes a seat at the desk near him and Midoriya, starting up a conversation as usual.

“How are you two going today? I am like, so tired.” She yawns, at a rather perfect time. “I’ve been
up all night studying for those finals lately, but I really really don’t want to miss the training camp.
Even though it’s for hero training and all, it’s got to be so fun! Especially with everyone here.” She
pumps her fists.

“So tired.” Dazai agrees with her, leaning his head onto the desk to try to get rid of his blaring
headache. Acting is tiring. That talk with Iida was tiring. But he fell for Dazai’s act.

He’s disappointed that he didn’t get to kill himself. It was really appealing, with the weather being
so nice he could just die with his body laying on that soft green grass. He really was tempted at
that moment.

“I’m great!” Midoriya replies, blushing like usual. “Ah, have you been practising the martial arts
you learned at Gunhead’s Agency?” He addresses Uraraka.

“You betcha! I’m getting pretty good with the punches, but I’m having trouble using my legs.” She
sighs, cheeks puffing out as a sign of frustration. It’s something she always does when she’s
frustrated.

Midoriya perks up at the mention of training. He’s never shy when it comes to learning and
training techniques but actually cannot make small talk. Dazai trails his form while he plays with a
strand of his own green hair.

“Really? I’ve been learning a few styles of kicks, we could um… train together if you’d like?”
Midoriya meekly suggests, looking away. He kicks his legs awkwardly in the air.

“Really? You are a lifesaver, Deku!” She hugs him briefly, smiling widely. Then, she bends down
to Dazai’s level and looks him in the eyes. “Dazai, are you working on anything special for the
practical exam? We all know you’re a genius or whatever, so I guess you’re not stressed about the
written exam..”

“I’m dreading it. I’d rather die than take that practical exam.” He sighs. It doesn’t take much for
him to want to die though.

“C'mon, it won’t be that bad!”

“You are pretty dramatic, Dazai.” Midoriya tacks on, shaking his head with a smile on his face.

From his place on his table, he can easily notice their teacher slide into the room like a caterpillar.
He smiles to himself and decides not to say anything. Dazai sits up though and gathers his things
with his phone in his pocket. It’ll alert him when motion is detected. Iida follows after Aizawa with
a forlorn look on his face but smiles wearily at Dazai and the other two. They try to wave to him,
but homeroom begins before they can.
“Good morning.” Aizawa’s voice booms. About half of the class yelps and runs to their seats in
fear. Uraraka waves goodbye to both of them and hurries back to her own spot. She doesn’t even
seem to be afraid of Aizawa anymore.

Dazai half pays attention to whatever Aizawa is saying, instead, waiting for his moment to strike.
He pulls his phone out, resting it on his legs while his eyes flicker to the screen every few seconds.
A buzz almost startles him. Glancing down, Recovery Girl is leaving her office in the direction of
the cafeteria or bathroom. He can’t tell, both are in the same direction.

Using that queue, he bends down to pretend to get something out of his bag. When Dazai’s sure
nobody is looking, he punches his nose as hard as he can.

Slightly dizzy, he sits back up. Dazai raises his hand but doesn’t wait for a response.

“Aizawa-sensei, my nose is bleeding.” He interrupts like he’s talking about the weather. The blood
drips down onto his school shirt in a steady flow. He can feel the pitter of each drop as it lands on
the fabric. Aizawa stares at him for a few seconds.

Midoriya whips his head around, panicking at the blood. He rips out a tissue from wherever and
quickly hands it to Dazai. He accepts gratefully, bunching it up to his bleeding nostril.

“Thanks, you’re the best.” He pulls a thumbs up at Midoriya, who doesn’t look any more
reassured.

“Go to Recovery Girl. The next period is in the support wing of UA, so take your bag. I’ll send
someone to collect you if you’re not back by the end of homeroom.” He orders, looking unfazed by
the blood and injury. Makes sense, he’s a pro.

“Yes sir... Bye-bye!” Dazai waves, skipping away with his bag.

He walks quickly to the room, swiping the camera up from its place and knocking on the door. As
predicted, it’s unlocked. Dazai had heard that Recovery Girl is always a bit forgetful in the
mornings, before the cup of coffee she collects during homeroom. So, she’s most likely at the
cafeteria, but there’s no worry about being careful. Either way, he should have enough time.

Dazai closes the door quickly, pulling out a pin to pick the lock of the student record room. In
record time, it clicks open and out comes the dust and smell of old paper. He doesn’t mind it much,
pushing through so he can take all the files out of his bag and place them where he found them.
Once arranged (a bit hastily, but good enough), Dazai shuts and locks the door and makes himself
comfortable sitting down on the bed nearest to the front door.

A few minutes later, the door creaks open. Recovery Girl looks surprised that he’s in there, before
tutting at the sight of the blood. She walks over to him and places the coffee on her desk, before
giving him a much closer look. He finds it mildly uncomfortable.

“Oh dear, what have you gotten yourself into again?” Recovery Girl sighs.
 Smoking hunks of metal
Chapter Summary

dazai returns a favour from the sports festival

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Dazai still cannot get himself to like Recovery Girl. Even though she doesn’t remind him of Mori
at all, he’s always been weird about doctors. He can take care of himself.

After the bleeding in his nose comes to an end, she dismisses Dazai from the office and orders him
to go back to class. He agrees readily, slinging his bag over his shoulder and dashing out. The
hallways are already starting to fill up, which means homeroom is over. Dazai should be able to
catch the rest of his class if he hurries along.

He slows his walk as he notices the rest of his classmates walking along in what looks like a line.
He’s surprised Iida isn’t having a hissy fit about it, but instead, he’s staring right at Dazai. It’s
almost degrading, he’d rather kill himself than have to act like a victim. But he’s on the verge of
being found out. The best thing to do was guilt Iida to keep it a secret, or else he wouldn’t let it go
and would tell his brother and others. Killing him was also not an option- they’d figure out it was
him from some of the security cameras.

Iida isn’t the only one looking at him though- Aizawa is also staring at him. He’s noticed it over
the past few days, but it’s starting to bug him. If he had to say, it might be guarded. Or suspicious.
Or pitying. He goes through the possibility that he somehow found out about the school files, but
scraps it. Dazai doesn’t make mistakes when it comes to work.

And so he makes his way to the line, walking with everyone else and ignoring Iida’s persistent
gaze. Every time he makes eye contact with the boy he makes sure to sadden his eyes slightly and
tug his mouth into a grimace. Iida catches up with the group.

“Good morning everyone! I hope you are all well rested and prepared for another day of class!”

“Are you well rested? You almost came to class late!!!” Uraraka exclaims, clutching his forearm.

Iida looks to the side, and quickly to Dazai. Almost like he’s begging for a cover. Well, Dazai
won’t help him.

“Yeah Class Prez, I’m shocked. I could have sworn that a few days ago you were yabbering on
about tardiness..” He quickly agrees with her and puts his arm around Iida’s shoulders. He doesn’t
miss how his usually stiff shoulders tense up. In fact, he seems to be avoiding eye contact, from the
way his eyes are shuffling between Midoriya and Uraraka.

Usually, he hates physical contact. The only reason he initiates it is to seem normal: If human
beings center themselves with touch and physical connection to other people, he will follow like a
baby trailing their mothers. He can only copy what others do to try and delude himself into his
humanity.
The simple fact is that he craves it so badly that it repulses him.

A deep seated repulsion of himself rather than anybody else that he can’t fathom being close to
someone; emotionally or physically. Nobody but Father dared to lay their hands on his distorted
self. He begged, prayed so hard for someone to love him. And at the end of that thin delusion he
was marching on, he sank. Nobody can be heard at the bottom of the ocean. Nothing matters when
you’re drowning. It’s a mind numbing nothingness. Dying must be better than pathetically
attempting to gasp for air that doesn’t exist in the ocean.

Everyone drowns eventually.

Iida pauses, meticulously trying to figure out what to say in response to the questioning. Even in a
situation like this, he wouldn’t want to lie.

Dazai really only picked this little bunch to hang out with because Midoriya’s quirk was suspicious
at the start of the year. Now that he’s got confirmation, he’s going to try to get the boy himself to
open up to him through trust. The other two were useless to him at first, but now that the gravity
girl is one of the potential suspects of the traitor, he’s had to pay closer attention to her. And Iida
has been added to the mix of people he has to keep a closer eye on. What a tiring group.

“It was disgraceful of me to not arrive at least five minutes early! I became so caught up in a
conversation with my brother that I did not notice the time! It is truly shameful of a hero in
training…” Iida bows his head in shame, but Dazai can see that he’s just trying to disguise the lie.

The others nod in understanding. Ever since Ingenium had his encounter with Stain and became
paralysed from the waist down, it’s been hard for him and his family to adapt to the sudden change.
Iida had mentioned that they had to move due to the lack of wheelchair accessibility in their old
home. He’s been doing a lot of physical therapy and testing because of his injury, so Iida hasn’t
had time to spend time with his brother.

“Aww, no sweat Iida! We were just kidding around.” Uraraka pats him on the back while Midoriya
nods furiously. Dazai just smiles at him.

They arrive with the rest of the class at the first-year's support area. Each department had a
separate section of the campus that’s facilities correlated with their needs. Just like how the hero
classes are closest to the gyms, the support classes are close to their own testing halls. They all
crowd around a workshop area and Dazai takes the opportunity to peek into the regular classrooms
as well.

The support classrooms are similar to the 1-A ones, but instead of singular desks, there are benches
with room for two every few meters. He eyes a sink at the back of the classroom and a chalkboard
at the front of it. They must do most of their regular work here and small practical tasks.

The workshops are large. Dazai thinks there’s probably one per year group. There are different
types of machinery everywhere, computers, 3-D printers, etc. Clearly all the 1-A students are
impressed by the number of items in the space. In fact, their combat suits were probably made
here. Dazai knows some of his outfit was.

The room also divides up into smaller areas for specific needs. He spies clamps and saws on a few
tables that seem like a woodworking station. Near it looks to be a station to work with hot metals,
judging by the tools.

By the entrance lies a massive shelf with so many different drawers he still isn’t able to read all of
the labels on them. Dazai gets the gist of it though, judging by a few of them. Most of the shelves
contain common parts for engineering. Nails, wires, batteries etc. A wall next to it holds a bunch of
tools. He thinks he can see a soldering iron lying on a bench near it, along with a hammer and drill.

The technology is high quality and up to date all around the workshop. That’s expected. He also
spots some sewing machines and fabric strewn around. It’s by far the messiest section, with patches
of fabric pinned onto a massive corkboard. Many pieces of paper litter the board as well, with both
of them also sitting on tables and other surfaces haphazardly. He does notice one or two familiar
designs up there though.

On the right, a rather small and empty gymnasium lies through a set of double doors. The wall
around it has clear windows directly displaying the inside of the gym.

Looking to his left, Dazai finds himself intrigued by the doors lined up. He reads a sign above
them, labelled ‘private rooms’. A bit ominous. The only thing he’s actually interested in though is
the loud tinkering and possibly explosions coming from one of them. He has a feeling about
exactly who it is.

Hatsume Mei comes out of that door covered in soot and oil. She obviously recognises people in
the class and a few other 1-A kids and waves enthusiastically. As she marches over, Aizawa starts
to talk.

“The support industry works closely with heroics.” He starts, grasping everyone's attention. He’s
obviously referencing the students around the room as well. “Support gear is crucial for pro heroes
to use. It would be foolish to refuse it. Working closely with the students here at UA that actually
assist in the designing and engineering process of your gear is a great opportunity to both make
connections and get more involved with the actual designs of your gear. Today you’ll be observing
how the students work for a few hours, take the opportunity to talk to them. Oh, and I expect a
full-page essay about the connections between the support and hero industry.” He ends, earning a
few groans from some of Dazai’s classmates.

His eyes swerve back to Hastume, who has an enthusiastic jump to her step. She quickly eyes
Midoriya first, clutching both of his shoulders.

“Hey you! How are those babies I made for you working? Do they need any tweaking?” She grins,
searching his body for any sign of her ‘babies’.

Everyone’s jaws drop. Even Aizawa looks shocked for a millisecond. Dazai would be shocked if
he hadn’t already heard Hatsume call her inventions her children. Hmm, he wonders if she
remembers him.

“You have kids?!?!” Ashido screams, whipping her head around to the pair.

“No, I-”

“Midoriya gets more girls than me!??!” Kaminari cries, dropping to the ground in despair.

Midoriya just looks more flustered by each remark and stare, frantically stumbling over his words
to try to explain the situation. Hatsume looks at the rest of them curiously, before realising why
they’re freaking out.

“My inventions are my babies!” She proudly states with her hands on her hips.

Everyone deflates in an instant. Aizawa sighs, shaking his head tiredly. Midoriya also sighs, but
it’s more relieved. As she pulls the green-haired boy into a conversation, the class disperses into
groups to tour around.
Just as Dazai is about to walk away, a muscled grip yanks him back. He waits for the inevitable
doom of Hatsume making him do something crazy and dangerous. That doesn’t sound too bad.
Maybe they’ll be an accident and he’ll explode. It seems like there are plenty of explosions
following her around.

“Oh no, don’t think I forgot about you! Except for your name. You are coming with me,
bandages!” She grins in his face as she drags him into a position facing her. “You owe me for the
sports festival and I need somebody to test out my babies.”

“Sure, sure. I’m happy to help!” Dazai cheers. “Do your inventions blow up a lot?”

He trails behind Hatsume as she enthusiastically leads him away from the group. Midoriya walks
over to another group of support students with a notebook in hand, obviously forgotten by the
inventor. Dazai’s eyes roam the numerous inventions on her person. It’s clear she is a talented
craftsman and knows her way around the workshop despite the short amount of time she’s used it.

“All the time!” She says unabashedly as she opens the door to her private room. The mess is much
worse than the rest of the public area, with machinery and half-finished inventions lying
everywhere. Definitely a hazard. “You may remember this from the Sports Festival, but it’s new
and improved.” Hatsume slaps her gloved hand onto the sleek metal of the jetpack.

“Does it come with a built in ice cream machine now?” Dazai knocks his knuckles on the engine
area.

He vaguely remembers this invention, Iida used it. He looked like an idiot. It takes a certain kind of
stupid to accept help from your opposing team. Although the design hasn’t changed much, there
looks to be more power on the inside and the metal looks slightly sleeker.

“No, but it doesn’t explode anymore! Wait… an ice cream machine?!?! That does have the
potential to regulate the overheating of the fuel compartments!! There is already a cooling system
in place, but that could work too. But, since it’s counteracting the heat, the ice cream will need to
be made in much lower temperatures. It’ll be a great attraction for customers! Let’s begin working,
my test subject!”

“I’m all for impractical things that annoy other people!” Dazai celebrates.

He and Hatsume work hard (Dazai sits reading his favourite book while she becomes so immersed
in her work that she forgets about him). Occasionally he peeks at her to observe whatever
adjustments she’s making. He does wonder if it’ll blow up though, judging by the state of her room
and clothes.

“Do you trick people into using your inventions a lot?” Dazai lazily inquires, turning another page
of his book. The one thing he likes about Hatsume is that she minds her own business.

She turns to him and slides her goggles onto her pink hair. “It’s not tricking people, it’s free
advertisement! That student I versed was just dumb enough to fall for it.” Hatsume dismisses him
easily, not giving in to Dazai’s attempts to rile her up.

He sighs, leaning against one of the walls next to a well used red toolbox. One of those mega sized
ones with everything you could possibly need.

“I guess. Booo, I’m so bored.” Dazai groans as he throws his book at the other wall. If he can’t
start a fight, what else is there to do?

“I’m almost done with the prototype of this! Since you owe me from the Sports Festival, you’re
the one flying it.” Hatsume grins.

“I’m not the physical type.” He smiles uncomfortably.

“You’re in the hero course.” She argues joyfully, already getting the straps ready. And the ice
cream liquid? Dazai has no idea when she decided to get that and why it was ready made.

He is tempted to cause a massive scene and leave, but on the other hand, having her on his good
side could be great. Who knows what Hatsume will be able to cook up in a few years? Weighing
his options, he goes with helping her.

“I’ll fall backwards if you put it on me.” He complains, holding up one strap while the pink-haired
girl grips the other as they walk across the public workshop to the gymnasium. A few of his own
classmates seem intrigued and excited, while the other support course students seem to inch back
at the sight of Hatsume’s jetpack.

“Just get it on already!!” She yells excitedly as soon as they walk through the doors. Dazai sighs
but compels, already feeling the weight of it. He’s going to have such a sore back.

Hatsume explains how to fly with it and how he’ll know when the ice cream is done (Honest to
God, he does not care about the ice cream. He regrets suggesting it). Dazai nods along, vaguely
listening. He already figured it out a while ago, regardless of the lack of clarity on the actual
machine. She’s lucky he’s so smart.

“Ok so, go up and down a few times, then fly a few laps. I’ll tell you when to come back down!”
She gives Dazai a thumbs up, fastening her goggles and stepping back. He takes it as his queue to
start.

Starting to hover is quicker than necessary. The controls are definitely shaky and he keeps having
to jerk the buttons to keep himself from slamming into the floor or roof. Hatsume doesn’t seem to
be bothered by it though as she takes notes in a little notebook.

Dazai starts to fly forward at a low speed. It’s much more smooth than the up and down functions,
so he finds himself going a bit faster. The only annoying thing is how hot it is on his back. And the
churning of the ice cream machine. It’s loud and near his ears. He can barely hear anything else.

And seriously, it is hot. If he didn’t have such a high pain tolerance, it would be unbearable. But he
really doesn’t want to have to owe her again, so a bit of pain doesn’t matter.

One look at Hatsume yelling at him tells Dazai that there may be something wrong. Obviously he
can’t hear anything because of that stupid ice cream machine, so he’s left to guess. He glances
back to see the jetpack smoking like it’s roasting a whole barbecue meal, and something is
definitely wrong with it. He tries to fly closer to her, and can just make out the word “Jump”. He
takes that advice.

Dazai feels the heat increase tenfold, and dives as far away as he can from the hunk of metal as it
actually explodes behind him. Unfortunately, he’s never that lucky, so he plummets into the
ground right next to the haggle of tools they brought to adjust the now destroyed jetpack.

He slams headfirst, no matter how hard he tries to break the fall with his hands. He wasn’t even
that high up, so it’s not too bad. The right side of his eye stings though. That whole side of his head.

Everything’s slightly too blurry for him, but he does manage to feel Hatsume poke his leg. Ouch.
Dazai rolls over to stare at the ceiling, shielding his right eye with his hand. He’s never been more
pissed off at how bright lighting is in gyms than he is now. It’s like every grievance he’s ever had
has come back with vengeance.

Dazai finally urges himself to sit up (It was definitely only a few seconds that he was lying there
for) and finds that Hatsume isn’t there anymore. He didn’t think she’d be the type to leave
someone injured alone, but he guesses he was mistaken. Oh well!

He spots the remains of the jetpack lying a few meters away. The smoke stinks. There’s also goo
that he’s pretty sure was supposed to be ice cream mixed with the machine. Dazai’s head whips
around when the doors to the gym open abruptly. Two figures stalk in this time, with many people
crowding around the entrance. He hears someone bark orders to stay back, while firm footsteps
grab Dazai’s attention.

Aizawa bends down with a slightly angry frown on his face. He examines Dazai for injuries while
he resists the urge to squirm under the scrutiny.

“God, why are you always injured?! Sometimes I feel like you do this on purpose to make me
grow grey hairs.” Aizawa utters disbelievingly.

Everything just moves too fast with his slow-ass brain, so without even thinking, Dazai jumps up
and leans away immediately. Obviously that’s a terrible idea, as he sways from the sudden
movement. His teacher sturdys him a second after, grabbing his arm lightly but firmly.

“I’m just a bit dizzy from taking that terrible nosedive, but I’m not even injured.” He sighs. “I don’t
think I can do the homework you assigned for today though, Aizawa-sensei!”

“Your head is bleeding.” He grumbles. “I need to hold onto you so we can get to Recovery Girl
without you falling again.” Aizawa states, but it’s almost like it’s a question. Dazai doesn’t protest
at all, so he takes one of Dazai’s shoulders and the other wrapping around his shoulder. He doesn’t
particularly get why, but there’s no use in fighting.

It’s still a bit embarrassing to see all those students gawking at him when he’s almost hugging his
teacher.

They get to Recovery Girl’s office with little fanfare. Dazai argues that it’s only a scratch and that
he actually feels much better. It’s true. Most of the dizziness has left and now he’s left with a
bruising head.

As soon as they step in though, Recovery Girl starts to berate Aizawa.

“You need to stop pushing your kids so hard! Out of all the classes, 1-A has had to visit me the
most by far.” She argues as she leads Dazai to a bed. “Now, what happened?”

“I came in to find a smoking pile of metal and Dazai with a bleeding head. I have no idea.” Aizawa
looks even more fed up than before.

“I was testing an invention of Hatsume’s, from the support course. It blew up.” He explains idly. “I
had to jump off. Oh, but I’m not dizzy anymore.” He shrugs.

Recovery Girl runs a few tests, proving Dazai correct. It’s only a head wound and a bit of damage
to above the eye. No real damage, no lasting damage.

“You kids need to stop being so reckless.” She tuts as she wraps bandages around his right eye and
the side of his head. “You can take these bandages off tomorrow, it’s just to prevent more
bleeding.”
 “Sure..” He agrees unconvincingly with the first statement. Nobody seems to believe his oath to
not get into danger all the time. He would prefer to wrap those bandages differently, but whatever.
He’ll rewrap them at home if he really needs to.

As Dazai turns to Aizawa to make another comment, he stops at the stunned look on his face. He
looks straight at those bandages, then right into Dazai’s cold eyes.

Chapter End Notes

GUYS... :: AIZAWA POV IS NEXT CHAPTER!!!!! FINALLY!!!

OMG ok wow sorry for taking SO long to update.. i got sick like three times and then I
just lacked motivation to write (and I could not figure out the exact plot for the next
arc at all it was all jumbled but I've got it now #yay) but now that I finally have better
direction I've got more stuff worked out for the plot yada yada

AND I always appreciate comments (I never mention this but they're great I love you
all talking about this fic)

hope you enjoyed the chapter and Merry Christmas and Happy Hanukkah!!

End Notes

If you want to contact me, my discord user is @tin#4709 !!

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