A Hero's Dirty Work (Villain Deku / Vigilante Deku au)

Return of the King

Principal Nezu looked calm, his paws resting comfortably on his desk, but his eyes were grim. Michi Hamasaki... Nezu had known he was replaced by a clone since the day after the internships, after he'd called him in and discussed the matter with Hawks. The student had told him a lot, although Nezu wasn't sure if it was everything. Because he was a clone, he'd admitted, he didn't have any of the brainwashing quirks active on him, so he was able to disclose much more information about the League of Villains, their members, and their quirks. 

Most importantly, and the item on his mind right now, was that he'd been abducted by the Shie Hassaikai—also known as the Eight Precepts of Death—directly after the incident in Hosu. Because the clone was still alive, that meant that the original was also still breathing, so they'd kept their hopes up.

Two days ago, he'd gotten a call that told him the clone was gone. It had melted into nothing right in front of his class, leaving behind a holographic video that told them a watered-down version of everything he'd told Nezu, minus all the horrifying details. Still, Nezu held out hope. There was a strong possibility that Overhaul had killed and revived him, which meant he could be alive despite the clone getting destroyed.

He sighed, turning back to his computer, but the door of his office slamming open startled him. Nezu blinked, realizing he was more distracted than he'd thought to not notice someone approaching from outside.

"We found the Shie Hassaikai," Sir Nighteye gasped, panting from his sprint all the way here. Nezu's eyes widened, a victorious smile spreading across his face. It faded just as quickly, however, as he saw the dark look Sir Nighteye's face.

"It looks like your student managed to escape," Hawks said grimly, wings fluttering as he glided in behind him. 

"There were no survivors."

*                *                *

"Cauliflower," Bakugo blurted, not knowing what else to say. Izuku blinked in shock, pulling a strand of his hair down over his eyes and staring at it for a moment. 

"Fuck."

"That's my word," Bakugo found himself saying again, instinctively trying to treat Izuku like a child. Something about Izuku's appearance gave off an aura of innocence and purity, and it was jarring to see him swear. Now that Bakugo thought about it, though, he'd sworn all the time as Michi. That didn't sit right with him, for some reason.

"You know what, Kacchan? You can go fuck yourself," Izuku shot back, affronted.

It was Bakugo's turn to blink in shock, trying to bring himself to terms with the reality that this was Izuku now; he'd been forced to grow up in probably the worst way possible. Bakugo finally processed the fact that it was Izuku really standing in front of him, and he almost used an explosion to propel himself over to him before remembering his shattered wrist.

"Oh, I can fix that for you," Izuku said, noticing how Bakugo had flinched, his hand still dangling at an awkward angle. Before Bakugo even had a chance to respond or question him, Izuku was grabbing the broken wrist—somehow, it wasn't painful. 

"There you go," Izuku said, checking it just to be sure. Bakugo stared at him; had Izuku just healed him so fast that he didn't even notice it? "Actually..." Izuku said, trailing off with a frown. Bakugo felt a strange tingling flow down his arms, as though his hands had fallen asleep but not quite as unpleasant. It faded after a few seconds, and Bakugo straightened his back; he felt refreshed and full of energy, completely ready to finish his fight.