Chapter 7: Chapter 7

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A gentle knocking at the door drew the owner of the small apartment to scurry over and open it up for Mitsuki Bakugo. "Hey, Inko, I got your messege! How are you doing?"

"Oh, I'm fine, I'm fine!"

That was a lie. Mitsuki knew that for a fact. The sight of Inko Midorya was enough to tell how she was doing. 

Ragged and tired. Bags under eyes. Hair a tussled mess. 

She'd even put on a few more pounds. 

It was too clear to her that Inko was not fine, but Mitsuki kept her friendly smile up for the sake of her old friend.

"I got your message. Is everything okay?" The glycerin woman inquired, cautiously keeping her oblivious act up.

"Oh, that! I was just hoping you could come by and have dinner with me, that's all."

Another lie. Mitsuki made her way inside the stout woman's home and spotted what Inko had made for dinner, laid out on the dining table.

Katsudon. Izuku's favorite.

Mitsuki quickly learned that whenever Inko made that specific dish, it meant that the day had been rough on her. 

Though every passing day where Izuku never came home was rough for the distraught mother, the katsudon would be a clear sign that the day had been particularly horrible.

"O-Oh! Katusdon! Well, I suppose I could stick around for a while!" The bomb boy's mother's mask nearly cracked at the sight of deep-fried pork and rice. 

The two mothers took a seat each at either end of the small table and began to dig in.

The tension was so thick in the air, you could cut it with a chainsaw.

The two women took small bites of their food as if eating too much would set off some invisible bomb they were somehow aware of. 

Inko would stare into her dish with a distant look in her eyes, looking up from time to time to see her friend eating as slowly as she was. 

For the sake of appearances, Mitsuki would shoot the green-haired woman a quick smile before taking another bite, with Inko giving a weaker one back before returning to her dinner.

The silent eating went on for another five minutes. 

Inko closed her eyes and set her chopsticks down to one side, a resolute frown on her face.

"I talked with Hisashi today..."

Mitsuki stopped mid-bite. "...Oh, no."

The levitation woman's face scrunched up in emotional pain as tears began to fall from her eyes. "He said it was my fault...It's my fault I lost him! It's my fault he's gone!"

The glycerine woman slammed her chopsticks down on the table, letting her anger boil over. "That stuck-up, yellow-bellied, son of a-!"

"But he's right!" Inko interrupted. "It is my fault!"

"NO!" Mitsuki shot out of her seat and rushed to her friend's side. "Inko, no! It is not. Your. Fault!"

Yes, it is!" The distraught mother wailed back. 

"He was four years old when he was told he wasn't Quirkless! That he wasn't like everyone else!" Inko ranted as she gripped her hair in exasperation. 

"When we got home, he rushed right to the computer and kept on watching his favourite clip of All Might for the rest of the day. He looked me in the eye, tears running down his face, and asked me...begged me...if there was any chance he could be a hero without a quirk! And what did I say?... What did I say?!"

"Inko!" Mitsuki tried to break her friend out of her self-inflicting rant.

"'I'm sorry!'" The plump woman blubbered. "That's all I could say! I drove him away! I gave up on him! I didn't believe in him!"

"You didn't give up on him!" The glycerine woman objected. "You were trying to protect him. He could have gotten hurt if he tried to be a hero!"

"But I should have just let him try!" Inko argued back. "My boy, the world's first Quirkless hero! Wouldn't that have been something! But I ruined it...I broke him!"

All Mitsuki could do was hold onto the mother who lost her child, letting her cry her soul out. 

They both completely forgot about their plates of katsudon, until they had gone cold.

The Quirkless boy woke up with a start.

He looked to his digital clock, which read '9:41' on the front. He immediately sat up in a frenzy. "Oh, shoot! I'm gonna be late!"

The green-haired boy scrambled out of bed and made his way to the bathroom, passing by a wall completely covered in disoriented papers and notes, all revolving around heroes and how their quirks work.

The boy took a quick shower, then headed over to his sink to brush his teeth. 

He took a moment to observe the scar he got after his endurance match against Rappa. 

The medics at the Masquerade did a great job healing him up with their quirks, but the scar turned out to be too deep to fade away. 

Rappa's only reaction was to tell Deku how 'boss' it looked.

After taking care of his hygiene, he went over to his tiny makeshift kitchen and put on some toast. He put in his black slacks and signature green hoodie when he heard the toaster pop. 

He grabbed his breakfast and took a quick bite as he slipped on his favourite red sneakers.

As he grabbed his backpack and made his way for the front door, taking a final inventory for everything he needed. 

Satisfied, he made his way out the front door, passing a side table on his way out.

A small framed picture sat on top of the table's surface. 

A picture of a stout woman with hair the same colour as his own, smiling sweetly. 

She was hugging what looked like a small child in her arms, but the face of who it was had been torn out.

Deku blocked a kick to his face with his left arm. He dodged a punch to his right and threw his own. 

He leaned back to avoid the blow, but it only gave Deku the chance to swing a kick into his mid-section, causing the Dragon Breath man to stumble on his feet.

The young analyst kept his eye on Drunk Lee, a fighter of the Masquerade. 

The Dragon Breath man wore a black Chinese dress shirt, a matching black cap with a black ponytail running out the back, an eye mask, where a fierce gaze could be seen, and a tendril moustache pointed down with his focused scowl.

"That's it, Deku! Remember to keep your guard up!" Rappa lectured from outside the ring. Lee regained his balance and rushed in close to the boy. 

He ducked down and drew back an open hand. Deku predicted where he was aiming for, snapping his head back quick before Lee's palm could connect to his chin.

"Eyes on your opponent!" Rappa called out quick, but his warning came too late. 

Deku suddenly lost his footing as Drunk Lee swept his leg through his feet, sending the boy tumbling to the mat. 

The boy saw Lee leap into the air, coming down at him fast with a foot thrust forward.

The villain-in-training rolled out of the way as Lee landed with a stomp, where Deku's head once was. 

Deku found his feet once again, and launched himself at the fighter, throwing a hail of fists at Drunk Lee, who merely dodged and blocked each one with relative ease.

Deku didn't see the man's fist coming in his blur of attacks. The blow to the chest sent him falling onto his back. 

Before the boy could get up, Lee's fist came rocketing toward his face, only to stop mere inches away from touching his nose.

Sweating from both exhaustion and anxiety, Deku stared at the fist before relaxing. The spare was over.

Rappa began clapping his massive hands from outside the ring. "Nice work, little man! You lasted longer than I thought!"

Drunk Lee stepped back and opened his fist into an offered hand. 

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Deku took his hand appreciatively and let the martial artist lift him up. 

The boy gave Lee a nod of thanks before sighing. "Yeah, but I didn't win..."

"Well, duh! Of course, you weren't gonna win!" The Strongarm man blew off his student's words. 

"Lee's been a fighter at the Masquerade since you were in diapers! He's had way more experience at busting skulls than you. 

But don't beat yourself up, my man! You've made tons of progress since you showed up. I mean look at you! You've got the body of a pro-fighter already!"

Rappa did have a point as he gestured to the boy's newly developed figure. 

Deku's body was once nothing but skin and bones at the beginning of his training. 

But now, after two months of being put through the wringer by his new defence coach, the villain-in-training had built a surplus of muscle mass. 

For the first time in his life, he had a real definition in his body structure.

"Gotta hand it to you, little man, I thought you'd throw in the towel on the first week of my training. But here you are, still taking what I can throw out!" Rappa laughed as he made his way over to the boy with his hands on his hips. 

"Tell you what, how's about I set you up for a match? It could be your big opening bout into the Masquerade!"

"What?! No way!" Deku waved his hands in front of him frantically. 

He stopped and lowered them. "I wouldn't last five seconds in the ring!"

"What are you talking about, Deku? You'd be great!" Rappa appealed. 

"From what I've been hearing, you've beaten a bunch of heroes already! How would this be any different?"

"Those were all times when I had a plan of action, or when I had the element of surprise on my side." The young analyst reasoned desperately. 

"There's no way I'd stand a chance against someone with a...without a quirk."

Rappa and Lee turned to one another in confusion when the boy stopped talking. 

Deku cased his eyes down to the floor with a look of grief on his face. 

He then looked back up to his coach, putting on a forced smile. "Could I take a five-minute break, coach? I think I could use some fresh air."

"Uuuh...sure, little man." Rappa allowed. The green-haired boy bowed in gratitude and walked out of the ring, unwrapping the sports tape from around his knuckles. 

He made his way over to a bench with his backpack, picking it up and heading for the front door. 

Rappa and Lee watched him walk out the door, feeling the grief walk out with him.

"Jeez...And everyone says I got issues..." The brawler voiced out loud before he got an idea and turned to the Dragon Breath man. "Hey, Lee! How's about you and me go a few rounds while we wait for him to come back?!"

Drunk Lee stared at the blood-thirsty brawler for a total of five seconds, then turned and walked away.

"AW, C'MON!" Rappa roared as he randomly charged toward a punching bag and blew a hole through it with his fist. "SOMEONE FIGHT ME!"

The clouds were thick and grey in the sky, refusing to let a single ray of light shine through. 

Deku leaned on the outer wall of the warehouse where the Masquerade was held, doing what he usually did to take his mind off things; scribble in his notebook.

However, this didn't help in brightening his mood as it usually did. After all, this was the only thing he was good at wasn't he? 

Taking notes. 

It wasn't like he wasn't aware of how much they were worth. Not to mention, he'd been training in mixed martial arts for the past two months, as well as Gentle's training in acrobatics.

But at the end of the day, was that all he could amount to? A big brain and good health? Was his life as a villain doomed from the start, just like his former life? Did he stand any chance of accomplishing anything in this world without a quirk?!

"Hey, kid! Why the long face?"

Izuku yelped and shot his head up when he heard a voice talk to him. 

There, standing before him, was a man with shaggy grey hair, wearing thick circular glasses sitting on a weasel-like nose, a pale wool scarf around his neck, and a tacky-looking purple suit. 

A thin moustache and goatee were framed around a crooked, gap-toothed smile, where a cigarette dangled off his lips.

"Woah, Woah, Woah! Take it easy, kid!" The shady man raised his hands in defence, mistaking the boy's wide eye for ferocity. "The last thing I wanna do is get into a scrap with Deku, himself!"

"Y-Y-Y-You know me?" The green-haired boy stuttered in his state of surprise.

"Kinda hard not to after the splash you've made over the last few months." The gap-toothed man chuckled at the boy's nervous behaviour before waltzing up to him and offering his hand. 

"Name's Giran. And boy, do I have an offer for you!"

Deku looked between the man and his outstretched hand. 

His wide shocked eyes shrunk down to a look of suspicion. 

Deku may have made friends with a few criminals since his disappearance, but that didn't mean he was going to trust every crook that he crossed paths with.

Deciding to keep this man at an arm's length, Deku reached out and shook the stranger's hand. "Giran? I think I've heard that name around the Masquerade before."

"I'd be surprised if you didn't." The broker smirked as he pulled his hand back to pinch his tobacco stick and tap the ash off its end. 

"I've got a bit of a reputation, you see. Being the humble, legitimate, everyday businessman that I am, who just so happens to end up working with the odd... 'unsavoury character'...here and there. Out of mere coincidence, of course."

"'Unsavory?'" Deku brought his fists down as he mulled over the man's words. "Wait, so...you're a villain?"

Giran chuckled. "Now, did I say anything about villains?"

"Okay..." Deku raised an eyebrow at the man's suspicious choice of words. "So, how do you know about me?"

"Are you kidding?!" The 'businessman's smile grew two times when he heard the question. 

"How could I not have heard about the Quirkless kid who had 'The Rappa' wail on him for five minutes, just so he could get him to be his coach?"

Deku rubbed the back of his head at the mention of that gruelling night.

It turned out the La Brava and Gentle had tuned in to the Masquerade website and caught his endurance match against the Strongarm man. 

La Brava was livid the next time he met up with her and Gentle. She beat on his chest with her tiny fists until she ran out of breath, and Gentle lectured him on pulling such reckless stunts. 

However, when all was said and done, the dazzling duo was proud of him for holding his own and getting a new mentor on his path to villainy, as they put it.

"I've also heard talk of a kid villain who's managed to foil a couple of heroes while on a few jobs." The gap-toothed man added with a smirk, taking a little joy in the way the villain-in-training got flustered from hearing about his secret lifestyle.

"H-H-How do you know about that?!" Deku babbled frantically.

"One thing you tend to pick up in this life, kid, is the ability to put two and two together," Giran explained as he let the fumes of his fag waft lazily into the open air. 

"For example, folks say that he wears a green hoodie, and I aim to guess you wear that thing everywhere."

Deku was once again frozen in shock at how easily he got found out. He brought his hands to his face in an attempt to hide his shame. 

Giran chuckled at the boy's reaction as he dropped his used up tobacco stick and stomped it out on the ground.

The young analyst brought himself out of his mortification to look back at the shady businessman. "Excuse me, Mr Giran?"

"Please, just Giran." The broker waived off nonchalantly.

"Giran..." The boy corrected. "Pardon me for asking, but what is it you want from me exactly?"

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