"Always be yourself.
...Unless you can be a superhero.
Then always be a superhero."
-Pop Culture
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It was a big mountain. Pathways of chiseled rock, winding around the mountain like Mother Nature's rendition of a winding staircase. Underneath, towering trees of rich evergreen pointed upward threateningly, as if they were swords. A single misplaced step could spell your doom, leaving you to tumble down into the depths of the abyss, only to watch as you were skewered helplessly. Or perhaps you'd be given a false hope; you'd tumble down to the ground, slipping seamlessly through the trees' branches, only to clobber your head on the granite-like earth.
It was on this very mountain that a figure was framed by the moonlight's bare lighting. He was at the very tippy-top of the summit, like a regal monarch looking upon his subjects from below. In a way, that wasn't far from the truth, although the people below were not subjects, nor was he a king. They were a group called the League of Villains, and the figure outlined by the moon was their strategist.
His name was Deku. It was not his real name, of course, but it might as well have been.
Currently, he was sitting on a mountain, doing nothing as his peers slaved away below.
Of course, there was a reason he was simply allowed to stay on the mountain, away from all of the action. The moment more and more actually skilled people began to appear in the League of Villains, he had chosen to fall into a more background role. No-one could really object to it because he was supposed to simply be their strategist. The only reason they had managed to get away with it in the first place was that they were severely lacking capable manpower. Instead, Dabi had taken up a more leading role, but he had slowly but surely gained the respect of the firey man, so there was no major issue on that front.
(If he wanted his plan to work, it was necessary to gain some distance first and foremost.)
Although, he didn't exactly want or choose to be here. In fact, he vehemently opposed this plan in particular, but his objections were dismissed with a single word. It was the (supposed) final order of All for One, and for all that he had slowly been gaining influence, All for One's was still far superior. He had power, he was the leader's literal master, as well as the group's sugar daddy. The fact that he had been able to put up a fight at all was a testament to his skills. Regardless, the hunt for Bakugo Katsuki was happening.
(He suspected it was simply because of the relationship they shared, and All for One wanted to irritate him because of that. It was working.)
He was forced to back down, but he had managed to gain some 'concessions', by framing them as logical objections. They were absolutely not allowed to overtly hurt students, the only exception being if they were truly being beaten by them. They couldn't psychologically damage them beyond all compare either. God knows that it had taken quite a lot of BS for that to be accepted as an actual, valid reason. At the very least, the (most of the) new villains who joined weren't completely unfeeling; they were just very much Pro-Stain.
There was a bit of a worry there that they would find out it was him that took away their precious Stain, but the only people at the scene were Iida, a corpse (that he couldn't save), the Hero Killer, and himself. Iida, no matter how much he had taken a shine to him, wasn't the type to willingly talk with villains. For the conversation to even steer itself in that direction was an almost statistic impossibility. Their chances of meeting Stain who was locked up deep in the dungeons of Tartarus were even slimmer. As such, Deku took a relaxed, yet alert approach to the situation. It wasn't like worrying would help very much.
With a pop, the telescope in his hand expended outward, ensuring that he was doing his duty. That was his self-assigned mission for this whole mess of a situation; surveillance. That, and making sure no-one escaped. With enough charging time, he boasted the largest range out of anyone in the League. It also meant he didn't have to stare in the eyes of children as he hunted them down. He didn't doubt that combat would be unavoidable, and while he most certainly could do it... If it wasn't necessary, then all the better.
That had been the plan, at least. If only he hadn't heard a child crying underneath his perch. It was faint but unmistakable. Perhaps they had skinned their knee or something of that nature? It didn't sound overly shriek-ish or terribly frightened. He wouldn't leave a real child alone, no matter how severe the scenario was or was not, however. That didn't even question why a child was present in the first place.
'Less thinking, more action.'
He stowed away the telescope in the inner-pocket of his trenchcoat (he rather liked the design, maybe he could continue to use it outside of this mission), and set off to investigate. If someone escaped or caused trouble in that timeframe... Well, he could always say that he couldn't run interference because of the foliage. It wasn't like they were going to climb all the way up the mountain to spot-check him. Now that he had a reasonable excuse, it was all the better. He rushed down the slope, eyes turning cold as the crying continued to increase in volume.
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It didn't necessarily mean anything bad - as good as a child crying could be in the first place - but his hypersensitive nerves were sensing something... wrong with the situation as a whole. He poured more on the speed, crackles of lightning following his footsteps. He could apologize for frightening them further with the sound later; he was more preoccupied with finding out the source. It was a good thing he did because even a moment later, the child would have been plaster on the ground. He let the anger deep within him flood his system but didn't let it take control. He knew better than that, but he was incredibly tempted. Incredibly tempted to just kill the bastard in front of him now.
Muscular; he was a new recruit vetted by Shigarki personally. Deku had never liked him from the start. He didn't have any 'noble' ideologies or a duel-based method of combat favored by some of the more combat fanatics, no, he simply enjoyed killing. Relished it even. It didn't really matter if the opponent was weaker than him (defenseless, his mind hissed), but he did enjoy it if it was a stronger foe. A personal quirk of his was that he despised those who overextended themselves, in other words, trying to do something outside of their capabilities.
'...A genuine bonafide murderer in the flesh.'
The kid - who was an actual child, what kind of person do you have to be to try and kill a child? - could only let out chocked sobs, as large globs of tears fell out of his eyes. He was shaking. The anger burned even brighter in him. He was beginning to see some merit in the whole 'let's just kill the bastard and be done with it' plan. Then the little guy said something, a desperate plea for help, almost. His eyes burned.
"Papa..! Mama..!"
In an instant, the anger within him was doused like water to a flame. Moreso than Muscular, his first priority should be the kid.
"I promise I won't let him hurt you, alright?" The boy turned towards him in a defiant, questioning manner, and Deku resisted the urge to laugh. The little brat's instincts were pretty spot on. "His quirk has a lot of splash damage, and while I'm sure I can defeat him, I don't really want you to get further caught up in this mess. Once the fight starts, run. I'll provide an opening for you. Don't worry, I can handle myself."
He lightly patted the kid's head, mindful not to touch his hat's spikes, before turning around to face Muscular. (Judging by the shocked sound that came from his mouth, the kid wasn't exactly expecting it and he would possibly have hell to pay later, but at least he wasn't crying anymore.) His eyes burned alight with liquid nitrogen, freezing the surroundings in a non-literal, but very much noticeable way.
They were very cold eyes.
Muscular wasn't going to get off scot-free, not if he had anything to say about it.
"Haha, you have very scary eyes, dear strategist. Almost cold enough for me to ignore that you're just a big softie. What do they call people like you... A tsundere? Frozen cold on the outside but a mushy mess on the inside? It looks like we have a match, Mr. Strategist."
He ignored the insults with the ease of someone who held no regard for the individual in question's opinion.
"Muscular, what are you doing?" His eyes were ice. "I'm fairly certain that I made abundantly clear that innocents weren't to be touched. This operation lives and dies on speed. Our only objective is Bakugo Katsuki. So what are you doing here? I asked you a question, Muscular."
"...Hahahaha. Why are you bossing me around? You've been pissing me off for a while now, first, we can't kill, and now implying that you can beat me..?"
Deku was incredibly serious, not an ounce of tomfoolery in him. He was just stating a fact.
"Because I can. Don't tell me you thought that Shigaraki listens to me simply because I'm the 'strategist'? You're rather naive yourself, aren't you?"
He took that moment of stunned silence and risked turning around to look at the kid. It wasn't a very pretty sight; the boy was practically frothing with distrust. He sighed a little, ignoring the faint sting in his heart while keeping in mind that it was expected. He was a villain.
"I understand how it would be hard to trust me at this point, but I need you to run away regardless. It really isn't safe for you here."
The boy nodded, but the flame of distrust still burned brightly in his eye. He supposed it was the best he was going to get.
It looked like he was smart enough to run, at the very least.
The blatant dismissal, alongside all of the other things Deku had said, pretty much sent him into a blind rage. Layers upon layer of pure muscle emerged out of thin air, as a sickening bloodlust contaminated the surroundings. His artificial eye burned a blinding red. It was throughout all of this that Kota stood off to the side, conflicted. He hated heroes, and everything they stood for, but he didn't like villains either.
And yet... Now, it was a villain of all things that had saved him. He knew that he would have died if the green-haired villain didn't save him from his punch. The same guy who had killed his parents. His small feet took off running at the harsh nod of his savior, scurrying away from the scene. Not a moment later, he heard several booms and crashes. His face turned pale. What if-... What if he was going to be killed too?
He knew he was small and weak, and the best he could do was only shooting a stream of water, but-...
There had to be something he could do to help!
His lungs burned with the exertion, his mind screaming at him for running right back at the danger, but he didn't stop. If anything, he was almost running at a faster speed than when he was running away. His pathetic, clumsy fell to the ground in his haste, likely tripping on a stone embedded in the mountain path. His knee was a little red and a little raw, but he stood up regardless. A scratched-up knee was nothing-!
He ran through the loopy path, the scene he ran from coming into view for the first time.
Muscular wasn't moving.