Abandoned

27

(Y'all we're nearing the end of this book! Day by day, I'm running short on motivation to keep this story up and running, since I'm working on tons of other exciting stories! I'm planning on getting out a least four more chapters, before it will be drawn to a close.)

(I hope you all stay tuned for my next books!)

Izuku did not expect the best night of his life to be spent falling from the ceiling.

But, nothing in his life ever seemed to go his way now, did it? Just when things were getting good, just when things had started to look brighter, reality had to come waltzing in and smack him across the face.

He wished he could give life a good smack of his own. A One For All smack. With a side of 'fist to the stomach'.

They were only falling through the air for a brief moment, then they landed harshly on the cold floor. The sensation immediately brought back dark memories for Izuku, and the greenette immediately knew with sickening certainty where they were.

Izuku rolled to his feet, his actions being executed by the two pro heroes beside him perfectly. He spun around in a wide circle, scanning the large, dimly lit room frantically for the familiar door frame.

All too soon, a cold chill filled the room. Izuku's breathing hitched slightly, and the two pro heroes stood so the greenette was slightly behind them.

Light footsteps soon echoed down the dark hallway, and a horribly familiar head of light blue hair came into view in the doorway.

"Welcome home, Deku."

Pro hero Snipe wandered the ruins of the house, the horribly bright red and blue lights of the police cars behind him lighting the home to an extent.

He frowned, narrowed eyes finding nothing useful in the investigation. He didn't know why he bothered today.

A week had gone by, and pro hero's Eraserhead and Present Mic had still been missing in action. Not to mention that green haired ex villain, whom Snipe remembered well.

He had shot the boy the first time they came face to face. It was rather hard to forget.

Snipe sat down on the living room couch, turning slightly and running his gloved fingers over the large gashes in the couch cushions.

"I understand why the League would want that kid back," Snipe muttered, thinking aloud. "But why take the pro heroes? Surely, that would've cost them time and put them in more danger."

"That's what I was thinking."

Snipe sat up from the couch and turned to look at the figure in the doorway, a cup of coffee in the man's hands.

"What I don't get is why they didn't kill them," Detective Tsukauchi continued, running a hand over the kitchen counter, as if that would help his thought process along. "Did they really want that kid back so bad, that they risked taking two pro heroes to do it?"

Snipe took his fedora off tiredly, running a hand along his head, and then set the hat back in place.

"I'm gonna look around again outside." The pro hero said simply, and walked towards the back door.

Tsukauchi nodded, sipping his coffee. Then, he pulled away from the mug and stared down into the dark liquid.

Eraserhead had bought him a package of dark coffee once, for a birthday present.

The detective was drinking it right now.

The man sighed, shoulders sagging with tension. He walked into the living room, flopping down onto the couch tiredly.