MHA: Undying

Debut Redo



Ok, to be fair, All For One never told me how I should make my debut. But yes, in hindsight it does make sense that he intended for me to make a spectacle of it to get my name out there. Not to mention putting the combat skills I’ve been learning to the test.

Neither of which had gotten done after my attack on Slugger. The news only reported that “A new villain murdered the pro hero Slugger and his sidekick.” No mention of my villain name at all!

And as for skills… well, at least I got to test my parkour and stealth skills in a real life environment! Stealing Shiggy’s hands and hiding them around the bar can only give me so much practice, after all. Even if the consequences of -in his words- failing a stealth check are more serious than out on the streets. Depending on who you ask. Probably.

Anyways, since my first debut was lacking any actual debut-ness, I’m back to try again a week later! My new target? The hero known as Red Gauntlet! His quirk lets him ‘connect’ with two objects of his choosing and control them with his mind. It’s honestly pretty impressive, and his skill with manipulating them shouldn’t be underestimated.

Of course, the weakness for it should be obvious. If someone manages to immobilize them, then he’s basically fighting quirkless. At least if my theory about how long it takes to make and break connections is right. But it should be since he never tries to connect with anything in the environment when he fights.

Still though, I don’t think he’ll be an easy opponent. Especially in an open space with a crowd watching. Acrobatics are much harder to perform in open spaces, but I can take comfort in the fact that all the signs littering his patrol route mean I’ll still be able to put my hops to good use.

As for how I’m going to start my challenge to him? I’m still thinking about that. “I don’t want it to be boring or generic. It’s got to stand out enough that I can trademark it as a ‘Midosagi special’. But if I try to make it too showy then it will just come off as ridiculous. I don’t really have a reason to attack random people when I’m specifically targeting the hero either.”

“Sure, I don’t really care if they get caught up in what happens, but attacking them just to declare my challenge to the hero feels kind of tasteless. I wish Himi was here, she’d have an idea of what I could do. But then again, she would probably just go up and stab him, which would mean that I wouldn’t get to test my skills again. Still though- whamlagnat!”

I’m pulled from my thoughts by a hand tapping my shoulder, causing me to jump in shock while making a weird noise. Now, normally this wouldn’t be particularly noteworthy. I do get lost in my mutterings way too often, according to the League. But in this situation, it’s pretty unexpected!

Not because I’m hunting a hero. Not because I think someone could have heard me, most people aren’t really able to understand my mutterings, I’m told. And certainly not because I’m dressed in my villain outfit.

No, it’s unexpected because I’ve been muttering on top of a lamppost, so there shouldn’t have been someone up here! As I fall from my position though, the person grabs a hold of me and nudges me back into position on top of it, saving me from needing to try and flip myself midair to try landing on my feet. Could I do it? Yes. But it still would have been embarrassing since I’m supposed to be testing my skills.

With my footing secure, I turn to the person who surprised then saved me. Though I’m not sure whether I want to thank them or stab them. Maybe both.

But those thoughts are thrown out of my mind and shock takes over when I see who’s behind me. Hovering in the air while flapping his crimson wings is one of the most dangerous heroes in Japan I could have possibly met.

The number three hero, Hawks.

Seriously!? I’m barely going after someone in the mid-hundreds rankings, and all of a sudden the number three hero shows up!? What the heck!? Does life just hate me or something? His patrol route isn’t even anywhere near here! Is he here for a special job or something!?

“-d. Kid!” I’m snapped from my thoughts of depressive disbelief at the sound of the hero’s voice. Looking back at him, I can see the concern subtly masking the caution on his face. Which makes sense. He found a teenager dressed in a suspicious outfit crouched on top of a street lamp while muttering to himself. It would honestly be weirder if he wasn’t on guard.

Tilting my head to show I’m listening, I wait for him to continue talking. He sighs before he does. “I asked what you were doing up here. It’s not exactly a good place to hang out.”

“Then why are you up here?” I ask, then my eyes alight on what he’s holding in his hand. “Wait, were you planning to perch on here for your lunch? And isn’t eating fried chicken kind of cannibalism? Though hawks do generally eat any animals that they can carry away, which includes smaller birds so I guess it makes sense. But you’re not actually a hawk despite your name, so is it more of an image thing? Or-”

I’m silenced by one of his sharp feathers poking at my throat, and his voice is cold as he warns me. “You didn’t really think I couldn’t see you reaching for that knife under your jacket now did you? You don’t get to be number three without at least that level of observational skills.”

I chuckle, heedless of the blood that trails down my throat at the action. “Nah, I knew it wouldn’t be that easy to get the drop on you. You were trained by the HPSC from childhood, after all.”

The feather digs just a bit deeper, causing the thin line of blood to get a bit thicker. “And how exactly would you know that?” Though cold, his tone wouldn't be out of place if he’d run into an unpleasant work acquaintance. Certainly not how you would think someone would sound holding the equivalent of a knife to your throat.

Then again, Himi holds a knife to my throat all the time. And she did a lot more than just that last week for her ‘second present’. Let’s just say that it’s a good thing I have complete regeneration for when she gets too excited. Though it wasn’t unpleasant in the least since I don’t feel pain. Still though, I ended up putting a couple of boundaries to make sure she doesn’t go overboard.

After all, I show up in the afterlife how I’m dressed when I die. So dying during or just after our time and appearing like that in front of the receptionist is…

Even if she did say she was used to it -which is concerning for a variety of reasons- I’d rather not make it a habit.

The point, I suppose, is that the pressure he’s continued to put on my throat with his feather while I contemplate all this, to the point where a steady trickle of blood is flowing now, doesn’t bother me whatsoever.

Anyways, since it’s obvious that he’s getting impatient for an answer, I flash him a grin. Before realizing that he can’t see it because of my mask. Sighing, I decide to just give a precise and simple explanation.

“Notebook number 12.” A quirked eyebrow is his response while I continue. “Which reminds me; is it true that you were originally part of a group, but the others died because they couldn’t handle the training?”

He’s shocked, and rightly so. In fact, he’s shocked enough that his focus on the feather wavers for a moment. A moment I’m not going to waste. “Of course not! They just didn’t become-”

I cut him off with a flick of my wrist to drop a knife into it, and in the same motion toss it underhand at his face. Though it misses, he still flinches back. It gives me a split-second to move where I don’t have to worry about an instant feather to the throat. So obviously I gently push off the post and hop backwards, giving him a small wave as I drop.

It’s not long to the ground, so I bend my knees to absorb the force and rebound it so that my jump backwards launches me out of the way of the feathers that impale the ground. Sort of like a trampoline. If a trampoline had a good chance of breaking your legs if you don’t know what you’re doing. So exactly like that, actually.

But dodging the initial volley doesn’t do me much good considering he has literally hundreds of feathers that he can control growing from his back. Which is attested to with another volley, though this time some are aimed parallel to the ground so that they won’t get embedded and become useless..

I’m stuck doing small, quick hops backwards to avoid them, since turning around and trying to run from them would take too much time. Still though, I have enough freedom to look around for anything that can help. But all I can see are the cheap plastic signs in front of the various buildings that would barely give me a second of time, which I would spend just trying to get back my balance from using it to block them.

Then I realize I’m being dumb and nearly slap myself, but after I duck to dodge some feathers Hawks sends at me from the side to do just that I think I’m good.

Instead, I keep hopping backwards, only this time I have a goal in mind. It doesn’t take long for me to reach one of the stores that are mainly brick with smaller windows. Judging by the hanging sign above the door, I think it’s some kind of cafe? Maybe I’ll check it out later after I get away from Hawks. I’m not nearly arrogant enough to think that I can beat him, so I just need a way to stall him long enough to run away and call Kurogiri. Although…

My hands brush along two pouches on opposite sides of my waist, only for me to dismiss the thought. Instead, I pause my hopping and crouch down, giving the feathers the seconds they need to catch up to me. “Hopefully my timing’s right.” I mutter before flipping backwards.

I plant my feet on the wall, legs bending as far as I can make them. Which is pretty far when pain isn’t a factor. I feel my muscles tensing, my skin stretching as I condense myself as much as possible to keep the momentum from my jump so that I don’t fall off the wall. And just as the feathers are about to reach me, I push off with all the force I can.

One of the feathers skim my flapping jacket as we go in opposite directions, tearing a hole in it before they bury themselves in the wall. I turn my jump into a roll as I hit the ground, bouncing back to my feet after I bleed off some momentum. I pop up with my arms outstretched in a ‘tada’ pose, waiting for the applause.

Instead, I get a swarm of feathers stabbing into my shoes to keep me pinned. Others strike me while twirling so that I don’t get stabbed, useful! I didn’t know he could do that, my flailing arms doing nothing to stop my fall. And once I do, more feathers pierce my jacket, pinning me to the floor. I try to move, pushing against the ground to try and dislodge them, but I get nowhere.

With a huff of frustration, I look up at the birdman looking down on me. Though from my position, it looks like he’s upside down, making me giggle and getting another raised eyebrow from him.

“Something funny?” He asks, his earlier cold tone nowhere to be found now.

I nod happily. “Yep! It looks like you’re hanging upside down in the sky from here.” I blink. “Wait, can you actually do that? Since you don’t actually need to flap your wings, it should be possible, right?”

He chuckles. “You’re a strange kid, you know that?”

I huff in annoyance. “Who are you calling kid? You’re barely six years older than me!”

Another chuckle before he gets a bit serious. “Putting your age aside, what was that you said about a notebook?”

I beam at him, which admittedly feels like it would come off awkward given our positions. “I’m always happy to talk about quirks!” I try to adjust to a more comfortable position, but give up after a couple moments of awkward squirming. “So, I have thir- well, fifteen now, I guess, notebooks all about heroes and their quirks! I do put down some personal details that I manage to dig up on them and how they might have influenced how they use their quirks though. I filled number twelve with the top ten at the time, though given how fast Mirko has been shooting up the rankings I think I should revise those heroes’ information soon.”

He pauses as if trying to recall something, and I tug once again at the feathers. But nope, they’re stuck in there pretty well. There is something I could do, but…

I don’t decide one way or the other whether I’ll do what I have in mind by the time he speaks again. “I’m pretty sure that Nezu mentioned for certain heroes to be on the lookout for notebooks with a dangerous amount of information.” He eyes me speculatively. “The one you’re talking about wouldn’t happen to have been written by Izuku Yagi, would it?”

I growl at hearing that name. It’s been half a year since I’ve heard it, and being called a Yagi causes anger and disgust to bubble up. Emotions that fill my words as I speak through gritted teeth. “Izuku Yagi is dead. If he really even existed in the first place.”

His eyes practically glow with interest at how vehemently I speak the words. “So sure of yourself aren’t you. Now, why exactly would that be?”

I chuckle darkly, enjoying how he ever so slightly tenses at it. “Why, because I’m the one who killed him. And three months ago, my girlfriend made it official. Now?” A smile stretches across my face. Not one of the ones that I’m told makes people wish for sunglasses, no. It’s one that nearly splits my face in half. One that Himi said sends an eclectic shock through her body when she sees it. One that doesn’t belong to anyone sane.

So it’s a good thing that crazy is fun.

“There’s only Midosagi.” And I pull the pin on the grenade in my left hand and roll it towards the hero.

His eyes widen, and the object is immediately covered in tightly packed feathers to try and contain the explosion. But that’s not enough for the hero, since anyone with a lick of knowledge about evolution knows that human bodies have improved to such a degree as to be considered superhuman when compared to pre-quirk era people. Even the quirkless have these improvements.

Which means that weapons needed to be improved just as much. Though not as noticeable with guns, grenades make it easy to see the difference when compared with old videos of their pre-quirk counterparts.

Though it isn’t that hard, Kachan needs to actually put in some effort to match their power.

Which is why in addition to wrapping it, he has a multitude of feathers carry it high into the sky where it won’t harm our audience. He’s so focused on it as it explodes that he’s barely paying attention to me. After all, I’m already incapacitated, and I’ve already used my trump card in the grenade.

Which is why he’s taken completely by surprise when the second one gently bumps against his foot.

But he’s not a pro for nothing. What feathers he has left pour off of him in a wave and shoot towards the civilians on the sidelines, snagging onto their clothing and flying them to safety as quickly as possible. The few that aren’t mostly have enough sense to run for cover to try and avoid dying.

All except for one dedicated idiot who just stares at us wide-eyed with his phone held up, apparently recording the whole fight. There’s no doubt in my mind that he’s going to be as dead as Hawks and me.

If it was a ‘real’ grenade, that is.

When it explodes, it’s not in a fiery explosion. Instead, it’s a sparkling one! Glitter flies through the air at speeds too fast to dodge, and the entire area becomes covered in the frustratingly stubborn decoration. I have no doubt that the storefronts closest to us will still be sparkling even a month from now. That’s not even mentioning the spot on the street where the explosion originates from.

But that’s for someone else to deal with! While everyone is disoriented, I slip out of my jacket and shirt, cut the laces on my shoes while holding back tears at my unavoidable betrayal and start running as fast as I can. “It’s going to take forever to get the glitter out of my hair,” I grumble to myself as I pull out my phone. “Seriously, couldn’t Hawks have just ignored the incredibly suspicious guy standing on a street light?”

“He could have just gone and cannibalized his cousins in peace, but noooo! I bet the glitter got all over his chicken,” I chuckle. “Serves him right, making me leave behind my shoes, shirt, and jacket. Though it is odd how I could just pull out like that. Though I guess most people would be put off when the feathers cut into their arms while taking them out.”

I shrug the thought away as Kurogiri answers, a portal of darkness appearing not long after. I walk through, wondering if this could be considered a successful debut. Not many people can escape Hawks unless they have a fire quirk, so I guess I could call it a win? We’ll see.

`~`

Hawks stares at the abandoned clothing where the villain was just minutes ago. He coughs, a small cloud of glitter puffing into the air as he does. He just stands there for another moment, staring at the glitter contaminated blood stains around the pierced parts of the clothing where the villain was cut pulling his arms out.

He looks down to his side, where the bucket of fried chicken that was meant to be his lunch is still held in the crook of his arm. It sparkles just as much as he figures he does at the moment.

Popping off the lid, he’s pleasantly surprised to see that it’s been unaffected by the glitter bomb. As he pulls out a leg, he’s never been so happy that he had the bucket custom made for him out of incredibly lightweight and resilient metal.

Taking a bite, he can’t help but gloat. “Shows them what they know. ‘A waste of money’ my ass. ‘Who gets a bucket of chicken hermetically sealed?’ The guy who gets to enjoy his chicken instead of having it get covered in glitter like himself!”

He quickly polishes it off, sighing as he seals the lid back in place and tosses the bone in a nearby trash can. Despite his cavalier attitude, he knows how serious the situation is. He’s one of the few who knows the full situation regarding the notebooks Nezu told them to be on the lookout for.

Good news, he knows who has them!

Bad news, the situation regarding the suicide of Izuku Yagi might not be as simple as everyone believed.


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