Deadpool X Boku No Hero Academia

Fred & Bill

"Maybe his parents lightened up?" Bill suggested, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Maybe," Fred mused, unconvinced. "But that stench was something else. Why wouldn't they at least notify the school about his absence? It doesn't sit right with me."

Bill shrugged. "Could be a lot of reasons. Maybe they forgot? Or maybe you're overthinking it?"

Fred leaned back, a contemplative look on his face. "I suppose so. Well, I'm going to dig deeper. Maybe get in touch with the kid's parents."

===

"I've got it!" Fred exclaimed as he hurried back to the common area, plopping down beside Bill and dropping a thick yellow file onto the coffee table.

Bill peered over, setting aside his book. "Is that the kid's file?"

"Yeah, and you won't believe this," Fred said, flipping through the papers. "Check out his parents' info."

Bill leaned closer, scanning the page. His eyes widened in surprise. "Holy... What the heck?"

"Exactly," Fred confirmed, pointing to the details. "The kid lied. His parents are both deceased."

"Why would he fabricate that?" Bill pondered, perplexed.

Fred shook his head, a frown creasing his brow. "I don't know, but it's definitely something significant."

"I'm going to speak to the captain about this," Fred declared, rising swiftly from the couch.

===

In the captain's office, Fred laid out the startling discovery. "Captain, we need to look into this kid's situation. His story doesn't add up. His parents are deceased, yet he claims they're overprotective and alive."

The captain regarded Fred with a serious expression. "Do you think he's lying?"

"I don't know, but there's more to this than meets the eye," Fred replied, determined.

"Alright, gather more information discreetly. We'll see where this leads," the captain instructed, a glint of intrigue in his eyes.

Back in the common area, Fred sat back, mulling over the puzzling case. There was definitely more to this UA student than met the eye. As they delved deeper, Fred couldn't shake the feeling that they were about to uncover something unexpected—a mystery that might just unravel the carefully constructed facade of a young man with secrets to hide.

===

{Nine days in the past...}

I collapsed into the bed face down, not bothering to remove my katanas, which I'm pretty sure have become part of my skeletal system by now.

{So... Um, what's the plan?}

I ignored the voice, spun around, and flopped onto the bed like a deflated balloon. The wallpaper looked like it had lost a fight with a badger, revealing wood panels that probably had more personality than this dump. And that rug? Let's just say it's seen things. Awful things. Dead rat things. And don't get me started on this bed. It's like a crime scene where the only witness is my sense of regret. Oh, and I'm almost certain the neighbor's room is hosting a salsa dancing competition right now.

{Remind me why we rented a gross motel room when we literally have a house?}

"Ah, yes, a 'gross motel room'... How fitting. A gross person in a gross motel room!"

{Is he drunk?}

(Nope, just sad.)

{Well, this is just pathetic.}

"Well, I don't freaking care!"

{Look DP, we ca-}

"NAH, NAH, NAH, NAH. I CAN'T HEAR YOU," I shouted, slapping my hands over my ears.

{You know we are voices in your HEAD, right? If you cover your ears, you will still hear us.}

"Shaddap..."

I buried myself in the sheets, attempting to smother my misery with fabric-softener-scented dreams. The problem with being Deadpool? Even when you shut up the voices, they just whisper louder.

===

{Next day...}

"Hey Ma! What is this man doing?"

"Just don't make eye contact, Andy..." The woman hurried her child along, avoiding the scene like it was a sale on responsibility.

"S-should we wake him up?"

"I'm pretty sure he's awake."

Onlookers gathered around the road where a big red truck had decided to salsa with a lamppost, spilling its oceanic cargo onto the asphalt.

"What a waste of some good fishes..."

A man lay in a puddle of fish, faceplanting the road like it owed him money.

"Is that smoke?"

Turns out, the man also had a cigarette.

"Wemmoksoksikeshes..." The man mumbled.

"What did he just say?"

"I dunno, dude. This is getting weird. Let's go."

(Umm... What are we doing again?...)

"I'm sleeping with the fishes!"

{Yeah, okay, We heard you two minutes ago... But don't you think it's a good idea to maybe get up and not ruin our reputation?}

"It's not like I'm wearing our suit right now."

(PLEASE, get up.)

"Urgh, fine."

"HE WALKS!" The priest yelled, wielding a cross in my direction as I staggered away, tossing my cigarette into the bin and missing by a universe.

===

{The next da- No, you know what? I'll just do a quick summarizing for you readers. Deadpool was sad after remembering the Workshop and arguing with his best friend, so because he's Deadpool, he did some weird shit. And on the last day, he went to an arcade where he got the phone call, okay? And yeah, the weird smell that came from him in the police station was the fish stink from the first day. Now, he did not shower for nine days after he bathed in FISH, FISH I TELL YOU. What a bad time to be a voice in his head. I mean, seriously, who does that? I tried to suggest some sensible activities, like, I don't know, hygiene? But no, here we are, smelling like a marine disaster. It's like living in a sushi restaurant that forgot to take out the trash. And then, of course, he wonders why people give him strange looks. Oh, I don't know, maybe it's the aura of rotting seafood surrounding you, Deadpool! You try being a disembodied voice in this madness. It's like being trapped in a fishy nightmare!}

(Deep breathes, White, Deep breathes)