Shinso's POV:
Crack
My head banged against the brick wall, a sickening crack and crunch resounding from the injury.
"Shit..."
I could feel something drip down the back of my neck, shoving past the forest of purple that was my hair. Blood.
My head oozed large amounts of blood, staining my purple hair, spreading down to my uniform in the process. That cracking noise didn't sound so great.
I may be internally bleeding as well. My head feels lighter too... despite the newfound pain that decided to arrive at full swing.
"You stupid brat!"
"Idiot!"
"What were you thinking?!"
Punches and kicks were thrown in between each and every insult.
I was swiftly gagged with a piece of cloth. I wasn't allowed to speak. Not only did speaking mean disobedience, but it was villainous.
My words are inherently villainous. It's true by nature. By my nature. That's what I've grown up to believe and accept.
Speaking led to the likelihood of a villainous act being performed. At least, that's what it meant here, and it was only applied to me.
My quirk. It makes people scared. It makes people disgusted. It makes people hateful.
I'm not a human being like the rest of them, because a human being can't possibly be born with such a horrible, evil, vile, villainous quirk like mine.
I wanted to scream and shout. I fought back the tears. I wasn't allowed to cry. Not in front of these people.
I was inhuman. I can't cry. I don't have the right to experience such humane behaviors.
I clenched my fists tight, as I laid on the ground, accepting my undeserving punishment.
But it was deserving. That's the whole point of this.
I was just to villainous to realize that.
I had broken the law. I had. That made me a criminal. A villain. I couldn't deny this. Everyone who called me a villain were not too far off.
They were right. These people are right. I used my quirk illegally in apprehension of a villain, which could've easily backfired.
It doesn't matter that it didn't backfire, what matters is that I still did it. Even though I never once interfered with a pro's hero work during it, I am still being punished.
This was now on my permanent record and the foster home had to take full responsibility for my actions. They had every right to be angry. They had every right to hate me. They had every right to kill me.
I spat up blood as a boy kicked me in the stomach at full strength. How could I tell it was full strength?
The way he kicked back his leg, the way he motioned his body to fall into the strike, the way his muscles clenched before impact. He struck me with full force, and I accepted it.
I couldn't not accept it. There was nothing I could do. Even if I could use my quirk right now and even if they were to fall for it, I could only brainwash one person at a time.
I brainwash one, all the others punish me for it.
I thought back to Eraserhead. Meeting him was a joy and a honor. I couldn't have asked for a better person to meet at that moment.
But... before I could talk to him, he had to immediately talk to the detective, leaving no time for me...
So I was vulnerable, with no one to possibly back me up, to cover for me. I should've ran. But I couldn't run. If I had, I would definitely be a villain in the law's eyes.
I had to allow myself to be arrested. I had to get the entire local police precinct's eye on me. Now they're looking into my school life, and are bound to soon find rumors about me, rumors that paint me as an actual villain.
Once that happens, I don't even know what I could do.
I couldn't do anything.
So was the story of my life.
Unable to do anything.
I gritted my teeth in anger and frustration, mostly at myself.
What would mom think if she saw this? The mother who gave up her life to make sure I lived a proper one.
She must be so disappointed...
I allowed for a slight smile to grace my lips, which prompted one of the other aggressors to stomp my face into the wooden tiles below.
I could feel splinters piercing my left cheek and ear. It wasn't enough to draw blood, just enough to induce a perpetual stinging sensation throughout one half of my face.
I winced in pain and discomfort, desperately trying to push myself off of the ground, but I couldn't. Physical strength isn't really my forte. I can't fight back in a one-on-one confrontation even if I wanted to, let alone a whole group hanging up on me.
The insults, derogatory words and terms, phrases and sentences and statements that would make the average citizen's stomachs churn in disgust.
But they were all things I heard before, and they were all things that I was going to continue to hear for the rest of my life.
My breathing quickly turned shaky as my body began to tremble under the pressure and attacks.
But... all I could do was take it.
No one was going to come and help me. No one cared to. The police certainly wouldn't, and neither would the heroes.
It was times like this where I couldn't help but wonder wether or not heroes are as righteous as they advertise.
They certainly don't seem to care about those they hurt the most...
<•——————•>
Detective Tsukaiuchi's POV:
Breaks aren't something I could experience often. Not in this line of work. I often mess with Eraserhead for not getting enough sleep, but nowadays, I honestly feel bad for the man having to put up with my teasing.
Now that I knew what it was like to constantly be in the same state as Eraser, I couldn't blame him for wanting to sleep all day and never have to worry about any more problems.
I took a long, exaggerated sip of my coffee. Not black coffee. I'm not that despicable. Not that much like Eraser.
But I'd likely reach that point soon if these cases don't waver.
We desperately need a breakthrough in the slayer organization case. We aren't making much progress, despite our little victories here and there, as well as a few theories Nezu has come up with.
These theories are likely correct. Nezu is almost never wrong. I'd honestly be more surprised if these theories don't end up proving to be true.
Emerald would eventually be the death of Eraser and I. So problematic...
Couple all of that with this new slayer member basing caught on camera? Yeah... way too much paperwork.
And despite not covering her face, we are unable to identify her. She may not be a citizen of Japan... either that, or her birth and information have not been governmentally documented.
We have no proof of her using a quirk, although it could possibly be a strength quirk as she seems much more physically stronger than your average teenage girl.
Speaking of teenage... what is with all of these kids being associated with this slayer organization? First Emerald, and now her. As well as a few others we've encountered... it is unlikely we've ever even heard of a slayer member over the age of... 30.
Not that we can be sure of any of their ages, were only going off of facial and physical features, which is not always a good idea to do, especially in a case like this.
Rumble
Stomp
I froze in place, carefully placing my coffee down onto my desk, facing the door to my office.
I narrowed my eyes.
"Sir, you cant just barge in li—
A familiar voice frantically spoke from behind the door.
"Like hell I can! Get out of my way before I report you for the interference of heroism!!"
Yet another familiar voice barked right back at the other. Unfortunately, this voice was a bad type of familiar. The kind of familiar that you'd rather forget about and never think of again, and yet it always seems to come up again and again.
That annoying kind of familiarity that you can never quite escape from. The voice... it belonged to—
Bang
Boom
My office door crashed open, nearly snapping from its hinges.
I swiftly leapt to my feet, eyes narrowed and focused at the man in front of me.
A towering, muscular, brute of a man with flames surrounding his body. A flaming beard blazing perpetually on his face, like a symbol of power and unwavering will.
Red hair topped the man's head, along with aggressively shimmering turquoise eyes.
Endeavor. The No.2 hero in Japan.
I secretly gulped down as a lump began forming in my throat from nervousness.
Endeavor is never in this area. Never
Not even mentioning the fact we've rarely spoken to each other in person. The last time we have was over 5 years ago.
I began wondering if I had done something he wasn't a fan of. That was the only explanation as to why a brute like him was currently in my precinct.
I didn't dare speak first, not when facing Endeavor.
"Tsukaiuchi..." the man said, fury and ill will lacing that one word.
"E-Endeavor... what brings you here?" I questioned, attempting to come off as polite, however, the man swiftly saw through my ingratiating act.
"Cut the crap. I'm not here for a leisurely conversation. I want information. Everything you have on Emerald and the slayer organization, immediately."
Endeavor pointed one of his massive fingers at me, eyes sizzling through my flesh, and looking into my soul.
It was terrifying.
I looked to the officer who was quietly hiding off to the side. Officer Sansa. I couldn't blame him, I'd do the same in his position.
I glared up at Endeavor in response, my mouth drying as the heat Endeavor gave off finally began affecting my body.
"I can't do that, Endeavor," I responded simply.
Endeavor simply scoffed, dropping his still pointed hand down to his side, eyes still locked onto me.
"I don't think you know who you're talking to, now do you?" He questioned, a condescending, yet threatening tone backing up his already intimidating demeanor.
It took a couple of seconds for me to pull myself together and actually respond to the man once more.
"I know exactly who you are. But you are not a part of this case, and I sure as hell won't allow you to join our efforts," I spat out, a bit more venom lacing my voice than I had actually wanted.
The room went silent for a few moments. In this amount of time, one could hear a pen drop on the other side of the room.
We continued our intense staring contest, in which I was so horribly losing.
...
...
...
...
"Aagh!!"
I was slammed up against a wall, shelf and desk brushed off to the side as I was forcibly pinned, unable to do much outside of kicking my legs out in an attempt to break free of this powerful hold.
I grunted in pain as I could feel my ribs crack ever so slightly.
"Listen here, Detective. I am Endeavor, you are an officer of the law. If I tell you to do something, you do it. If I want in on a case, I sure as hell better be recognized as an active member of said case," Endeavor said, crushing grip loosening.
He leaned in close to whisper into my ear, flaming beard just centimeters away from setting fire to my skin.
"The HPSC has grown tired of your constant failures and have lost faith in you, Nezu, and Eraserhead. They see you three as worthless. They want me to do your joke of a job for you. If you don't want me on this case so badly, you should've done a better damn job!" He yelled, venom in every single word, no lapse or pause in between.
My body trembled. "The HPSC...? I should've known they'd do something like this eventually... but I thought we'd have a bit more time..." I thought to myself.
Eventually, I was let go, body dropping to the ground, as I struggled to regain my composure.
"On behalf of the HPSC, I am officially the main hero on this case. Eraserhead will no longer be needed. If he's seen with Emerald at any point in time, it is very likely he'll be punished by the HPSC," Endeavor states, turning his back on me.
My eyes shot wide open at his words. This can't be true, can it? It can't be!
"You'll now be reporting directly to me. So get used to it."
<•——————•>
Shinso's POV:
"Oh look, it's the villain."
I hung my head low, ignoring any and everything around me. The daily life of a villain. The daily life of me.
"Puppeteer."
Puppeteer, eh? I've heard that one before. In fact, it was the one insult I'd hear the most. I couldn't escape it. That title... Puppeteer, it is the bane of my existence. It'll never leave me.
So many rumors have spread throughout my prefecture in Tokyo, rumors about a supposed villain named Puppeteer. Me. Me? A villain? Yes, me.
Everyone sees me as dangerous and villainous simply because of the power my quirk holds over people. It isn't because of anything I've done, but because of the things that I can do. That's the basis of these rumors. My potential danger.
What I can do and not what I have done.
But it's fine. I don't blame the foster care workers for kicking me out. It's been a long time coming. Honestly, they were likely planning on doing this even before the charges put onto me for illegal quirk usage. It just gave them a good excuse.
Only problem is what I'm going to do from here. I no longer have a place to stay. If the police or the pros find out that I am a so-called "villain" because of these rumors then I'll be arrested immediately.
And because of that... I can't just join a hero school. I have a serious crime on my permanent record now. UA is never going to accept me. What's even the point?
I can't risk getting in trouble with the authorities again, can I?
If I do, I'm screwed.
I looked down at my hands in frustration, balling them into fists, and tightening my grip, as my thoughts and concerns continued to increase by the second.
My chances of becoming a hero were already astronomically low, but they weren't zero. Now though? That may as well be in the negatives. All because I wanted to help that vigilante. Or at least, that's what the officers said that girl was.
But what else was I supposed to do? If I didn't help, that villain would've won. But... I am also an accomplice in murder. It's a miracle I'm not in jail right now. At least, Eraserhead helped in that department.
He couldn't convince the authorities to let me go without any consequences. They wouldn't charge me for co-op murder, but they would make sure I couldn't attend any hero school ever with this now on my permanent record.
How was I going to make any money? How was I going to be able to pay for any necessities, now that the foster home would no longer be housing me?
Where was I going to sleep? In an alley way? That'd be my best bet...
"Hey, kid!"
I stopped in my tracks, still hauling my bookbag over my shoulders, not wanting to turn around and face this new voice.
Only when I heard this unfamiliar voice did I realize that I had been blindly walking in one direction for a long time. I looked around, only being met by the darkness of the night sky and unfamiliar scenery. Was I even in Tokyo anymore?
Have I really been walking for that long? Did I really get that lost in my own thoughts? And why did this new voice have such a presence to it? It was commanding. Intimidating. Powerful. Like the owner of the voice has had experience living out here.
This looks like a very dangerous area. Likely away from any major cities. Likely no heroes are patrolling around this area, apart from maybe a few underground heroes.
I turned my head to face the source of the threatening voice that called to me.
It was a tall, muscular man with short, spiky, sand-colored hair, along with small black eyes that bore into my own. He had a wide sadistic grin on his face, eyes not straying away from me.
A sharp, cold shiver ran up my spine, as I witnessed large red, fiber-like tendrils popping out from underneath the man's skin. He was the predator and I was the prey.
It was only now that I came to realize something truly terrifying. I do recognize this man. The voice was familiar. This man... He's an infamous S-class villain, Muscular.
"What's a dead-eyed kid like you doing out here in the Hosu red-light district?" Muscular questioned, threateningly as he rose his right arm up menacingly.
"A red-light district? I walked straight into a red-light district? I knew our foster home wasn't too far from one, but I didn't know it was this close," I thought to myself.
But everything was fine. I could easily escape this confrontation unharmed. I wasn't scared of possible death, I was more scared of actually being face to face with such a powerful and dangerous villain.
I gulped as the man began to charge.
This villain's personality... I know exactly of the statement that would get him to respond.
"And what is a weakling like you going to do to me?"
"Haha! Confident, huh? I li--
A wide, sadistic smirk of my own graced my lips as I watched the man's small black eyes suddenly go wide and turn dead, and white in color.
I took a large, careful deep breath in, and then a deep breath out.
But I couldn't lose focus. Not like last time.
I looked into the villain's eyes, noticing the slight confusion in the man's eyes, which swiftly turned into anger. But there was nothing the villain could do.
"Now, go to the nearest police station and turn yourself in like a good little villain," I ordered.
And sure enough, the massive, muscular beast of a man turned heel and walked away slowly. He'd be under my control for a while. I'd have to make sure to maintain control over him for at least an hour.
Luckily, my quirk doesn't really have a time limit, I just need to dedicate a portion of my thoughts to keeping him under my quirk's control.
I thought back to what my classmates and fellow foster children would always say to me. Sometimes even the neighbors too.
Puppeteer
Puppeteer
Puppeteer
Puppeteer
Puppeteer...
All of a sudden, that title felt... fitting, instead of derogatory, and I had no idea as to why. I'm not sure if I like this new though process. I'm not sure if this is the right or wrong thing to believe. But...
Clap
Clap
Applause?
No... it was dead, somewhat mocking.
It didn't have much energy, and the spaces in between them were intentionally long and drawn out in order to produce an eerie sensation. And whatever this was, it was succeeding.
"Not bad, kid," a new, condescending and mocking voice spoke up, although the voice seemed a bit... off.
I turned to the direction of the voice once more, and I immediately knew why.
This new figure clearly had a cigar in between his teeth, offering me a huge, wide grin, flashing a few golden teeth.
The man was gruff. His clothing was fancy yet ragged at the same time. A stop watch wrapped around his wrist, along with a pair of glasses covering his eyes...
He gave off a sense of importance yet obscurity. Confident yet cautious. Foolish yet smart. Abrasive yet tactical all at once. It was strange just how much I was picking up about this person solely based on a simple glance.
Almost as if this man wants me to notice all of these things and is somehow making each feature about him very clear.
It was... strange.
"Fending off Muscular... impressive. Even if it wasn't a fight... not just any mental quirk can overpower that freak's bloodlust. You must be something special, aren't ya'?" the man snickered, blowing out a puff of smoke.
I narrowed my eyes at the man. Who was he? What was he here for? Why is he even talking to me right now? I couldn't tell. I couldn't figure it out. One thing's for sure though...
He may not look like much, but I get the sense he's nothing to scoff at...
<•——————•>
Author's Note: Done, and done. Not a very eventful chapter, but still very important to the overall plot. Again, no Deku in this chapter, but he will be in the next one. As you can see, this chapter mostly followed Hitoshi Shinso as he gets kicked out of his home that was the local foster care shelter.
He likely can never become a hero due to illegal quirk usage. Although that's not all this chapter was about.
The scene with Tsukaiuchi and Endeavor. How do you think this new development will effect the overall situation of the heroes and the slayer organization case? Now that the HPSC has made Endeavor the main pro hero on this case instead of Eraserhead, how will this effect both Deku's and Eraserhead's desire to get information on one another?