Izuku worked through everything he could get his hands on.
Read every thriller about the topic, watched every episode of every crime series that could give him a hint, movies, police notes he got from a hacked server.
He had everything double and triple-checked and analysed.
Everywhere was a mistake.
That was the point.
He had to do it flawless. It had to be perfect.
But that seemed simply impossible!
Groaning he buried his head in the mountain of paper stacks on his desk that was surrounded by three computers and two laptops.
He was driven to despair.
He had tried to find a method on how to let a person vanish from the face of earth and even found a book with the title: 'How to get away with murder - simply: How to let someone disappear forever'.
But as good as the methods and hints in the book were, he couldn't stirrup this wasp nest that way or he would get stung very badly.
Wasp nest? Damn shit, this publishing house was a fucking hornet nest holding some especially aggressive specimens!
If only one hair was to be placed in the wrong way and lying in the wrong place these maniacs would notice it and would be starting an inquisition that could end with his capture. And he couldn't allow himself to be captured now.
So it had to be either an open kill, or a suicide.
But if he killed them on the open street, he wouldn't gain anything, because he'd contradict his own ideals and move more into the public eye than he wanted to.
He could force others to commit the murder - with his knowledge and contacts it would be a trifle - but it seemed wrong to him. It was his problem, not that of others.
That's why he also told Akaguro just the large scope of the situation and told his teacher he wanted to clean up the situation himself.
Stain had been impressed.
If his father had seen him now he definitely wouldn't be anymore.
So it had to be a suicide - but to force somebody into committing suicide was extremely complicated.
The person had to be vulnerable to blackmail.
Had to have a family, that they loved more than anything else, or something more valuable than their own life.
Therefor the person had to be already confronted with the manner of death, so he could acclimate with the thought fast.
It gives one the possibility, to decide for oneself when to end it and how and the majority of the society nevertheless likes to end its life rather self-determined, instead of getting forced into it.
But only few people hate their life enough to throw it away voluntarily.
And as far as he knew, this women didn't have anything that was more valuable to her than her life.
Except...
Hectically he digged threw his notes until he found the notes he made on 'Sherlock'.
The first episode. The one with the cab driver.
Maybe he could do something like that.
This way he could eliminate the whole publishing house. A mass suicide of conspiracy theorists wasn't anything new or surprising.
He only had to prepare everything for saturday.
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
Relaxed he sipped on his cocoa with cream and marshmallows.
It was more than earned.
It was a beautiful morning that wrapped the streets in soft, warm light and let the fog over the parks and meadows fade away.
Besides him there were only the staff of the coffee shop and a young woman in sport clothes who bought herself a fruit smoothie.
He thought about ordering her drink next, it looked very delicious.
Izuku was rather proud of himself.
After days and nights filled with research, phone calls and planning he only survived thanks to energy-drinks and coffee he was free to say that his journalist-problem was about to solved.
The little bell above the door tinkled clearly and brightly when the small ambience was entered by four people.
Three women and one man.
One of the women had lilac tentacles instead of hair and another had a third eye on her forehead which wasn't blinking but still following movements.
The only remarkable thing of the man was his eye-catching clothes and a styling that hollored 'gay' all over the place as if it necessary to stay alive.
He was able to identify the woman who entered last as Yoko, she had the showiest Quirk with hooves instead of feet.
The shop got livelier after the arrival of the little group that sat down at the table behind Izuku which had been reserved.
He didn't really focus on his preys in favour of relishing his hot cocoa which had costed him much more than he actually would have liked but it was totally worth it.
With closed eye he took the next nip.
"So, what did you find?"
"I've looked into Surveye a bit more. There a rumors of him changing his path and becoming clean."
"I've heard something similar. And I've been told that he finally appeared in public under his name, it was to find another broker. It seems that he's search his notebook."
"And I've read said notebook.
This guy is seriously sick in the head! Each spread is filled with him taking apart Quirks, fighting styles, mind and life of a person and he's writing down pointers how to use all that against someone.
To think that he's selling something like that without considering the consequences! And I've got number 47! That means that there are at least 46 more!"
The man, who was sitting right behind Izuku whistled.
"The squirt doesn't seem to have any hobbies."
"Squirt?"
"Jup. I've grown curious as well and listened around. Everything we wrote was confirmed. Male, minoir, limping and everyone is saying the same: he's friggin small."
The women started to giggle and the one-eyed who listened in on all this without being noticed gritted his teeth in annoyment.
Yes, he was small, what's the big deal?! It wasn't making up his whole life! He would grow some day!
"So this is going to be a special-edition only about Surveye?"
They mumbled their confirmations.
"Could I get you something else?"
The teenager flinched at hearing the voice of the nice waitress.
"W-wah? … ah… uhm… yes. I'd like this red fruit smoothie."
Damnit! He didn't even notice that he finished drinking because of listening so intently to the conversation.
The woman smiled friendly and went to fetch his orderm
"... read something out loud of this notebook!"
He froze at hearing the whispers behind his back.
"But… okay. So-"
And then Yoko read his notes about Sir Nighteye and he couldn't stop himself from making a face when he heard the journalists comments.
They really didn't grant him his hard work.
He got his second order and payed for it directly after receiving it just like he did with the first one.
Everytime he wanted to yell that they understood something wrong he swallowed a bit of his drink instead and lightened his mood this way.
The smoothie was really delicious.
Fresh and fruity with a light sour and a sweet note.
It tasted like raspberry and pomegranate even though the greenette was pretty sure to sense some cherry as well but he wasn't entirely sure.
But after a time his smoothie was, sadly, empty and he didn't have the money for another so he had to listen with clenched teeth how the four behind him badmouthed his second identety.
And then they finally grew quiet to get ready to go.
He followed the little group more or less unnoticed to the house of Yoko.
He waited some more minutes after the adults entering before he rang her bell.
"Hello?", sounded a distorted female voice through the intercom, "Who's there?"
Izuku cleared his throat.
"Hey. I… uhm… I heard you talking in that Café and… well… so… I- I'm a really big fan of your magazine a-and… I think, I think you're right! And… well… uhm… I - I would like… I want to help! I saw Surveye! With my very own eyes! I heard him talk! He's INSANE! And… well..."
"... enter."
A quiet buzz signaled him that the door was open and Stains student opened it without a second thought.
It was easy to play the fanboy.
It was exactly that way he reacted to heroes for ages.
Now that he thought about it it seemed stupid but he's been too naive to realize how dumb he acted.
The man of the group welcomed him with a serious look and guided him up the stairs silently.
From now on everything would have to work out correctly.
His breath was a little shaky.
Don't loose you mind over this, Izuku! You'll make it! This are just some dumb citiesens.
He wished his inner herokiller was right but he knew that his Senseis voice was lying for his sake.
The fact that he heard voices was lost in the panic.
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
And then he sat on a comfortable sofa with a hot chocolate in his hands the four journalist opposite to him and eight little tins in his bumbag which seemed to weight several tons by now.
"So… you saw Surveye?", draweld Yoko skeptical with raised eyebrows and scorn in her eyes.
"Y-yeah! He… I am… well…. I'm a vigilant… and… there's this bar for anyone who isn't green with the laws and who wants to meet people with same experiences.
I could't see very much of him - he's rather plain - but he ordered a water and was limping badly.
Because of my… side job… I'm pretty observant.
He talked to the barkeep and started to walk away a short time after, then he said who he was and that he wanted some message to be delivered. Everyone grew silent because… he's like, a phantom! A legend! No broker was able to stay as hidden as him!"
Was this enough? It had to be enough.
"A-ha. I don't believe you.", sayed to woman with three eyes, she sounded patronizing.
With a sigh his shoulders and head fell and he started to play with his gloved fingers.
"OCD?", asked the woman with the tentacle hair and pointed with one stand at his hands.
"W-well… where… where I come from it's reaaaally dirty and I want to hide my hands as well. They're unsightly.", he mumbled rushed.
Was he over-egging to pudding? He was pretty sure he was.
"Show me your face, squir-"
"Do. Not. Call. Me. Squirt!", he growled and threw a look with murderous intent at the group from beneath his hood,
"I hate being called that! I hate that my work and talent gets forgotten because of my height!"
The other adults flinched back but Yoko stayed still.
"Please take off your hood."
Angrily he shoved it down from his head and showed his blind eye, his scarred face. Things, a kid of his age shouldn't have.
His functioning eye was boiling over with anger, hatred and scorn while the other one was staring straight ahead without seeing anything at all.
The sight was a shock for the journalists and the woman with the three eyes ran out of the room to not vomit in her friends and bosses living room.
It took some time until they accepted the sight they saw.
"Your eye...",
whispered Yoko unbelivieingly,
"Your eye… like… like in the notebook. I don't understand… what?"
His smile was thin and the mood in the room was tumbling as the three-eyed woman returned.
"Of course you don't understand.
I was pleased at the attention I received but sadly you badmouthed all my work and dragged it through the mud. And right now you own something that belongs to me and saw something that wasn't dedicated for your eyes.",
his voice was smooth like silk and sharp like a scalpel and at the end of his little speech he pointed at the notebook that was lying on the table,
"I invested a lot of time and patience in this notebook. I do that for all my notes but you had nothing better to do than to rediclue it!"
He took a deep breath to calm down and only then he pulled out eight transparent tins that were tied together in pairs and placed them on the table.
"One pill is poison the other is shugar.", he explained with a smile as he saw the confused expressions,
"All the pills and tins look exactly the same you can examine them if you want. I don't know which of the two tins contains which pill."
- No. He knew. -
"If you want to escape this flat living you only have to take the correct pill. I'm going to tell each of you one important thing about me and then you're allowed to choose. I take four pills, you only one. Each poison is unique and lethal and kills in the matter of a minute without any antidote.
If you don't want to play my game-"
-He drew his knife and buried its blade in the table with one slam -
"- I'll kill you this way and you won't even take a secret into you grave."
He leaned back in his seat and a sickeningly sweet smile adorned his scared face in the most cruel way.
The four looked at each other and nodded hesitantly.
"We… we're going to to do it."
"Perfect."
Slowly he stood up and walked towards the first woman in whose ear he whispered: "I'm quirkless and I was bullied and abused for it since being four."
The second woman heard the following: "I didn't kill a single person directly, no poison, no firearms, no knives - you'd be the first."
The man: "My birth name is Izuku Midoriya. I am fourteen and I almost died 38 times, most of them through my own hand."
And Yoko: "I stopped taking drugs after the herokiller Stain choosing me as his successor."
With a false smile that didn't even try to reach his eyes he sat down in front of the group.
"You've all heared reasons why I want to die -"
-he started to move the tins on the table. Some of them he pulled closer to himself and others he nudged towards his victims. It was simple psychology and analysing -
" and why I want to live."
The last tin found its place and he looked into Yokos dark eyes before ending with a: "And now, decide."
He didn't worry and was completely relaxed instead while one after the other grabbed the dadly pill.
Humans aren't complicated to manipulate, Quirk or no Quirk and with his intellect Izuku had the upper hand in mindgames like this one.
"Well then.", the greenette took the four tins he decided to be his from the start.
"Just take in in the mouth, bite down and swallow. If it's sweet you're safe.", he explained happily and demonstrated with all four pills at the same time.
Satisfied he tasted the pure flavour of icing in his tongue while the journalists took their pills and swallowed.
They all looked so relieved.
"Ah, yes.",
he said with a smirk and stood up,
"Maybe I should have mentioned that the poison tastes like caramel."
It was hilarious to see their confusion turn into realisation as four pairs of eyes widened before the symptoms started to kick in.
He packed away the tins neatly while the bodys on the floor and sofa twitched and gasped for air.
They were already dead when he cleaned the sofa before taking his notebook and the mug he had sipped at so that he finally could leave the flat.
Without being noticed he left the house and went down the street.
It took three days before the rotting corpses had been found thanks to the smell.
It was a group suicide of fanatics which was only mentioned in a sideline of the newspapers.
But that had been his plan.