Chapter Text
Izuku rolled out of the orange sheets of his ex-best friend/ex-tormentor/now casual hook up, and quickly grabbed his belongings. The soon to be #1 hero in Japan didn’t like him staying over, saying that he didn’t want the paparazzi catch him leaving and putting two and two together. Izuku was surprised no one had questioned it yet considering the blonde man called on him whenever he got a break from his hero duties, but it appeared that Izuku’s quirkless status quickly squashed any rumours because to the media it was completely unrealistic that the rising star in Japan would shack up with someone like him.
Izuku quietly pulled his clothes on, not wanting to wake the irritable sleep deprived blonde and grabbed his phone. He looked at the time, seeing that it was close to midnight and knew he would have to hurry if he was going to catch the last train. He made his way out of the two bedroom apartment, Katsuki sharing it with his pro-hero flatmate, Kirishima, and made sure to close the door so all you could hear was the click of the lock. Izuku pulled out the key the hero had given him and stared at it for a moment. He had had it shoved into his hands a few months ago, the man telling him it was easier for Izuku to have it but expressed that it did not mean they were dating.
Izuku sighed, hating that their ‘non’ relationship could potentially hurt the hero’s rankings and that whatever it was they were doing continued to be kept under wraps like a dark skeleton in the closet, even though all of Katsuki’s friends knew exactly what went on between them and treated Izuku like he was actually his boyfriend. It didn’t bother Izuku much, he was too busy to be dragged into the spotlight anyway and he’d rather not be on the radar of the press considering his line of work.
Izuku put his key into the lock, making sure to do the deadbolt lock as well and shoved it into the front pocket of his backpack that he carried around with him. People thought it silly seeing a grown man carry around a backpack, but it was easier to take documents home in than a briefcase like the other psychiatrist at Tartarus. He spun on his heel, phone in hand again and scrolling through his emails to double check nothing urgent had come up that needed some prep work done before he started his day tomorrow.
Thankfully nothing stood out, just a few script requests that could wait until the morning and a run down of quirk related incidents that had been quickly resolved thanks to their strict forensic management plans. Tatarus was a high profile prison for the highest level of dangerous criminals, but a few years ago they had opened up positions to see if there was potential for rehabilitation to occur. Izuku had jumped at the chance, keen to use his skills in a more challenging environment.
Izuku originally had wanted to be a hero, but that had been quickly squashed in middle school after a run in with Japan’s historic #1 hero, All might. After that meeting he had been crushed, but he still enrolled in UA, going into the general studies course, and was soon picked out by the principle, Nezu, for his quirk analysis capabilities. The rat like man had mentored him, directing him towards a career path Izuku had not thought of, and after a few years helping the hero commission build profiles on their most wanted, Izuku got a free scholarship to study medicine which led him to being the youngest employed psychiatrist at Tatarus.
Initially people at the prison had looked down at him, scoffing at his age and his perceived lack of experience, but he quickly shut those voices down when their assaults on staff from prisoners started to take a downward trend. It hadn’t surprised Izuku just how many in the forensic system had some serious underlying mental health conditions and it just reinforced his resolve.
When he reached the lobby, Izuku gave a small smile to the security guard who nodded back in return and unlocked the front door for him with his swipe card. Izuku stepped out onto the street, knowing it would be unlikely he would come across any trouble as not many villains were stupid enough to cause trouble in an area where a large population of heroes lived. The small statured man pulled his hoodie up, covering his unruly mop of green hair and made his way quickly towards the train station, keeping an eye on the time on his phone. He had a few minutes spare if he hurried and could pick up a hot drink to keep him warm on the journey home.
Izuku picked up his pace to a light jog, spying the stairs that would take him down to the rail and made quick footwork down them. He pulled out his train card, swiping through the barriers and was glad when he saw the coffee kiosk hadn’t closed yet. The woman behind the kiosk did not look pleased to see him, but she made his drink quickly and handed it to him without a smile. Still, Izuku regarded her with warmth, understanding this was probably the last place she wanted to be this late at night.
Izuku went to his platform, drink to his lips and happy to wait the last few minutes when a scuffle behind him drew his attention. There was a man leaning against the wall, scraggly white hair hanging over his face and appearing to find it difficult to stand. He quirked his head, eyeing the man and assumed he was drunk until he saw a small puddle of wet blood that had formed on the ground, clearly from a wound as it was directly under the man’s hand which had a trail of blood to his pale fingers. Immediately Izuku went over, putting his drink on the ground as he helped the swaying man sit.
“My names Izuku,” he started, eyes focused on trying to find where the blood was coming from, noticing a darker patch on the black jumper in the middle of the man’s forearm.
“Tomura,” the man grunted, shifting his position slightly to get more comfortable.
“Do you mind if I take a look at your arm? I’m a medical professional,” he was soft with his tone, not sure what the situation was and not wanting to alarm the man and cause him to lash out.
“If you have to,” the man’s tone was gruff, like his throat was dry, but he offered his arm up by pulling his jumper sleeve back.
Izuku quickly opened his bag, pulling out the small med kit he kept in it out of habit for when Katsuki refused to go to the hospital after some nasty run ins with villains. The cut was deep, the blood flowing freely still and indicating it was fresh. It would need stitches, but it hadn’t cut through anything important thankfully.
“This is pretty clean. I’m assuming it was a knife?” Izuku mumbled, eyeing it closer as he pulled out a small bottle of saline and gently squirted it into the wound to make sure there wasn’t any debris in it.
“An NPC caught me off guard,” the white haired man hissed and Izuku looked up apologetically, noticing for the first time that the injured man had bright red eyes, similar to Kacchan. Izuku shook his head, the timing not appropriate to dwell on his confusing romantic situation.
“You got off lucky,” Izuku hummed. He got some gauze and packed it on before grabbing a bandage and wrapping it around to keep it in place. “It needs stitches, so you’ll have to go to the hospital.”
“No hospital,” the man grunted out.
“If you don’t it will leave a pretty nasty scar and I can’t guarantee it will stop bleeding anytime soon,” Izuku hummed, used to coming across people who would prefer not to enter an imposing medical centre like a hospital.
“No hospitals,” the man growled in his throat, red eyes narrowing and Izuku swallowed thickly, nodding his head slowly. It took a lot to intimidate Izuku considering where he worked, but he was acutely aware there was no one else around and that he was quirkless. If this man lunged at him, he’d be completely helpless.
“Alright,” Izuku grabbed out a sling, the man watching his movements carefully and he held it up. “We need to keep it elevated, it will help with the bleeding.”
“Guess I caught some luck today if I ran into an actual capable human being,” the man chuckled, leaning forward so Izuku could get around his back. Being so close to him Izuku could smell the stale smoke in his hair and he couldn’t help but wonder if he had a fire based quirk.
“I don’t,” the man, Tomura, chuckled under his breath.
“Ah, crap, I’m so sorry,” Izuku blushed, continuing to work on the make shift sling. “I have a habit of analysing quirks. It’s gotten me in trouble a few times because I mutter when I get lost in my thoughts and people don’t like that.”
“A quirk analysist and a doctor,” the man, Izuku assumed, was smiling from what he could tell by the small quirk upwards on the corner of his lips. “You’re an interesting one, Freckles.”
“I’m not that interesting,” Izuku pulled back into his own space, eyeing his handy work and noting the bandage was starting to get soaked through a tiny bit. “We really do need to get that stitched up. My place is only one stop over and I have some supplies if you’re more comfortable with that option.”
“Not like I have any other options,” the man replied, holding out his other arm and Izuku noticed he had a leather glove on that covered two of his fingers. “Are you going to help me up or not?”
“Oh, sorry,” Izuku quickly scrambled to the man’s side, putting one arm around his waist and sliding himself under the man’s non-injured arm. “Do you think you can walk by yourself?”
“Unfortunately, yes,” Tomura rasped out, pulling himself out of Izuku’s grip but not before the shorter man felt a soft, dragging touch across his back. It made Izuku nervous and question if he was doing the right thing, but he would be going against every fibre in his being if he abandoned the man.
The train arrived not long after and Izuku lead the way, taking a seat in the near empty train after helping his newly acquired charge to sit down. They didn’t speak much during the short ride, Izuku mainly listening to the man’s breathing just in case his body started to try compensate for the blood loss and indicate he was in far more trouble than originally thought.
Tomura followed him quietly to his apartment. It wasn’t flash like Kacchan’s, but it was nice and homely. It was on the top floor so Izuku was able to make a make shift garden on the small balcony he had and fill the inside with items that was unique to him. He had a bit of hero merch, not as much as he used to, but enough to indicate he was a fan, and he noticed the dark scowl on Tomura’s face when he eyed the limited edition All Might figurine tucked away safely on his book shelf.
“Make yourself at home while I get what I need,” Izuku forced a smile, completely on edge and he pulled out his phone to flick Kacchan, aka, Katsuki, a message about what had happened just in case he needed help. He was sure the man would still be asleep, but it was a small comfort to know if something did happen the hero would have some idea of what had happened.
He went into his bathroom, grabbing his suture kit that he kept for emergencies and made his way back into the small lounge area. Tomura had settled himself on the couch, gaze firmly fixed still on the statue.
“Not a fan?” Izuku couldn’t help but ask and he sat down on his coffee table.
“You are?” the man shot back, finally looking away from the statue as he scoffed.
“I used to be a huge fan when I was younger,” he hummed, thinking back to the day he had been told by his idol to give up his dream. “You know what they say though, never meet your heroes.”
“Then why do you have that stupid statue?” his head quirked to the side, watching Izuku with an intense curiosity.
“Childhood nostalgia I guess,” Izuku shrugged. “Also, it’s limited edition so it’s pretty rare. Only 100 were made and it was given to me as a gift.”
“I see…,” the white haired man let out a hiss as Izuku removed the gauze from the wound.
“Sorry,” he cringed. “This isn’t going to be painless I’m afraid,” he apologised in advance. “As I said before, it’s a pretty clean wound so it should heal nicely.”
“Just get on with it,” his guest huffed.
Izuku nodded, going to work, inspecting the wound again before grabbing a pair of clean gloves and unwrapping the dressing pack he had on hand. He opened it as he had been taught in medical school to keep it sterile and put everything in the right places to prevent cross contamination. With quick precision he had the wound cleaned properly and was setting up what he needed to start suturing.
“I don’t have any local anestitic,” Izuku muttered, feeling guilty that he was about to unintentionally hurt someone.
“Can’t be as bad as getting stabbed,” was the quick witted response. Izuku couldn’t help but laugh.
“I guess you’re right,” he gave Tomura a large, bright smile, and it caused them to lock eyes. There was surprise in the other mans, shock that quickly turned into amusement and something that made Izuku’s lip pull between his teeth and cheeks warm. “I…uh…I’m going to start now, if that’s alright?”
“I don’t have all night, Freckles,” his informal patient scoffed, leaning back into the couch to get more comfortable.
Izuku was surprised that Tomura didn’t even flinch when the needle pierced the edges on the wound, but he tried his best to be as gentle as possible while working quickly. When he was done, he checked it hadn’t pulled the skin to taut then added steri-strips to support the stitches and covered it with a clean dressing.
“Done,” Izuku sat back, taking his gloves off with a snap and putting them amongst the small pile of waste he had created. “Keep an eye out for infection. Redness, swelling, heat, and soreness. In a few weeks you should find someone to look at it again and have the stitches removed.”
“Can’t I just come back and have you look at it for me?” Tomura asked, inspecting Izuku’s handywork with appreciation. “You seem to know what you’re doing.”
“I mean, if you want to,” Izuku lifted his hand, scratching at the back of his neck. “But my field is usually in mental health so I’m pretty limited in what I can access if you needed any medication for it, such as anti-biotics.”
“I’m sure it will heal fine,” his comment was quickly brushed off.
“Do you want me to call you a taxi to get you home? It’s pretty late now and the trains won’t start up again for a few hours,” Izuku stood up, going to grab his cell phone when he heard the man move off his couch and move towards the front door.
“No need, Freckles, I can get my own transport,” Tomura grabbed his door handle, turning it and opening the door but didn’t step out. “I’ll see you in a few weeks, Freckles.”
“Ah, yeah, see you,” Izuku squeaked, completely flustered, because again the man had that look in his eyes, the one that screamed that he wanted to playfully bat Izuku around like a mouse before he devoured him.
……………………….
The next morning Izuku was exhausted. He had only managed to get a few hours of sleep as he couldn’t stop thinking about the man he had patched up. The more Izuku thought of him, the more curious he was himself. His hair was unnaturally white, but it was obvious that it hadn’t been bleached that way, and his skin was dry, almost flaky, and he had a number of scars that littered the skin he could see. He seemed familiar as well, but Izuku couldn’t place where from, and that annoyed him to no end. He was usually so good when it came to faces!
Izuku poured himself a large thermos of coffee, knowing he was going to need it if he was going to get through the day. He grabbed his lanyard from the hook on his wall, shoving it into his backpack and headed out of his apartment. Tatarus was a good 30 minutes train ride away and then another 10 minute walk from where he got off. Kacchan was always berating him, telling him he should get a car as there were times he finished late and his path to work could be pretty dimly lit, but nothing had happened to him so far so Izuku felt he was in the clear. No one wanted to go near Tatarus anyway, villain or civilian.
He caught the train with ease, eyes flicking through a new journal article that had been released on the theory that some quirks naturally made some people more aggressive by raising adrenaline production in an attempt to compensate for the strain on the body. It was an interesting theory, but Izuku liked to believe that people had choices and that kind of thinking only helped to divide society into ‘good quirks’ and ‘bad quirks’.
His phone chimed, indicating he had a text and he smiled when he saw the name Kacchan pop up on his screen.
“Just checking you’re not dead, Nerd,” it stated, showing that the hero had finally checked his message from last night.
“Still in one piece,” he replied back, grin still in place as a warmth flooded over him. Kacchan may like to hide what was going on with them, but it was moments like these that showed Izuku that he did care. “Did you sleep well?”
“Like a log,” was the quick text back. Izuku knew there was no point in trying to continue the conversation past that. Kacchan was a man of little words. He showed his emotions through his actions, although brash those actions were at times.
The short lived text conversation put a bit of pep back in Izuku’s step and the walk form the train didn’t feel as dragged on as it could have. He made his way through the security checks, saying good morning to any staff members he passed and headed to his office.
It was a small space, tucked away in the back of the building as it had been hastily put together, but Izuku didn’t mind as he really only used it when documenting his notes. He sat down, opening his schedule on his computer and made quick work of his admin tasks before grabbing his first case file and flicking over it.
His day went quick, his time with prisoners in hour slots with small breaks in the middle where he attempted to keep up with his documentation, but as usual, he stayed late as there was always something that was more time consuming than the rest. Once he was done he shut everything down and grabbed his coat and back pack.
The walk to the train station was not ideal, the rain deciding to make its presence known about halfway into the trek, and Izuku wanted to kick himself for not being more prepared. Usually the night before he checked the weather reports, but with his random encounter it had been the last thing on his mind. With no choice, he broke out into a jog, the hood of his jacket up to try and keep the rain off of his hair. If it wasn’t for that, he probably would have noticed that a few minutes back, someone had started trailing him
It wasn’t until he got to the train station that he realised something felt off. Through his short work life at Tatarus he had learnt quickly to be aware of your surroundings, particularly what was behind you, so when he positioned himself with his back against the wall, he caught sight of a small, blonde woman darting off behind a pole. Izuku frowned, noting the odd behaviour and deciding to keep an eye on it just in case it turned into something more.
Izuku felt his phone ring in his pocket and he fished it out, not looking away from where the woman had hid as he raised it to his ear.
“You free, Nerd?” Kacchan’s gruff voice came over the speaker.
“Just about to get on the train home,” he replied. “Do you want me to come over?”
“Mina’s talked Kiri into having a party, she said to invite you,” Izuku let out a short snort. He knew that while Mina would have suggested it, the fact that Kacchan extended the offer meant the gruff hero actually wanted him there.
“I’ll head home first to get changed then be around,” he finally looked away from where the woman had been, content that she seemed not to want to bother him and focused on his phone call.
“You sound off,” his non-boyfriend stated, the tone on the line dropping which to Izuku he knew it meant he was concerned. “Is everything alright after you played doctor to some random?”
“I’m fine,” he reassured, knowing how protective the man could get. It was one of the reason’s he was such a good hero. “I thought for a moment someone had followed me to the train station, but it was nothing.”
“You’re being followed?” he could hear shuffling from the other end of the line and some jingling of keys. “Where are you now?”
“Thought, Kacchan,” Izuku groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. The other man could be overly paranoid at times and Izuku really didn’t want him coming all the way to the train station just to pick him up and get berated again for his lack of personal transport. “Oh look, the train’s arrived!”
Izuku pushed himself off the wall and made his way forward, eyeing the pole where the woman was now surprisingly gone from. Izuku must have missed her moving when he looked away, but she had seemed to disappear completely, which was strange, but there were a few exits in the train station she could have slipped away to.
“I’ll meet you at your stop,” Izuku groaned into the receiver.
“I’m fine!” he insisted. “Really, it was noth-,” he froze, eyes wide and looked down. He swore he had just been stabbed by something sharp but there was still no one around.
“Zuku, you there? What’s wrong?” his boyfriend/not boyfriend sounded concerned, and Izuku let out a small yelp when he felt his side and notice a small patch of blood forming on his white shirt. Nothing too big, but enough to indicate that he had been stabbed by something. “Nerd!”
“Sorry!” he squeaked, attention refocusing as he touched the area. It was sore but nothing major, almost like he had been pricked with a large needle. “Just tripped on the edge of the train platform,” Izuku lied, not wanting to concern the hero with something so minor.
Once he was on the train he looked back to the station as the door closed, trying to see if he could catch a glimpse of the woman, but the station was empty. It confused him even more, he knew he felt something, but maybe he had bumped into something and it wasn’t until he moved in a certain way that it irritated it. That had to be it, he tried to convince himself, even though an uneasy feeling had set in his chest.
“Idiot. Hurry your ass up. I don’t want to hang around all night at some stupid station,” the line disconnected and Izuku rubbed his face. It had been a long day and combined with a poor sleep, it was no wonder he was on edge and over reacting.
Kacchan was waiting for him at his train stop as expected, leaning against the wall next to the turn tables with his arms crossed against his chest and a deep scowl set on his face. When he saw Izuku he dragged his eyes slowly over him, and the green haired psychiatrist moved his arm to cover the small speck of blood because he knew the hero would ask him about it.
“You really didn’t have to come,” Izuku reached to the back of his head, scratching it with a lopsided, awkward smile.
“You forgot your umbrella,” the blonde growled. “Didn’t you check the weather report?”
“It didn’t cross my mind,” he replied honestly, falling into step with the blonde as he led them out towards the entrance. “Sorry if I worried you.”
“Worried me? Ha, as if, Nerd,” Katsuki scoffed, nose in the air as if the notion offended him. “Just needed a reason to get out of party set up.”
“Yeah, of course!” Izuku hummed, an understanding between them for him not to bring it up again.
“So tell me about this guy last night,” he tried to play it off again, but Izuku watched the man roll his shoulders back which usually meant he was tense. “He didn’t try anything funny, did he?”
“Not much to tell,” he shrugged. “Had a cut on his arm that needed patching but he didn’t want to go to the hospital.”
“A stranger doesn’t want to go to the hospital and your first instinct is to take him back to yours?” the man shot back at him, his eyebrow raised but teeth grinding. “Could you be anymore stupid? He could have been a villain!”
“Well…he needed help…,” he trailed off, opening the passenger’s side of Katsuki’s car and hoping in. “It wasn’t a big deal.”
“You’re an idiot,” the blonde growled back, red eyes staring at Izuku with clear irritation. “Next time, you call me before you make anymore dumb decisions like that.”
“Let’s just drop it,” Izuku blushed, the scolding he was getting showing that the man did actually have a soft spot for him.
“I swear to god, Nerd, you pull a stunt like that again and I’ll kick your ass myself,” he was staring him down, refusing to turn the engine over until Izuku agreed.
“I promise, Kacchan,” he couldn’t help but grin. It was times like these that actually felt like they were a proper couple, but just as quickly as it came it went, and they fell into an awkward silence.
Katsuki pulled up to his apartment building and Izuku quickly made his way up to his apartment. He dropped his bag in its normal place beside his couch then grabbed a dry pair of jeans and a dark green dress shirt. He hadn’t grown out of the habit of wearing t-shirts, but Mina was always a stickler for people dressing up and he was not going through the hassle of the pink skinned hero throwing clothes at him from Kacchan’s closet again until she was happy.
He went to his bathroom, re-styling his hair with a light covering of moose, and then when he was happy he grabbed his wallet, keys, and phone. He paused briefly, eyes trailing to an item that was out of place and bent down. A delivery card had been shoved under his door with a number to call for him to reschedule. He couldn’t remember ordering anything, but his mother did send him care packages every now and then. He tucked it into his wallet and made a mental note to call the number tomorrow and hurried back downstairs to the car.
…………………………….
Tomura Shigaraki was not impressed when Toga Himiko waltzed into his room and wrapped her arms around his neck, draping herself over him with a childish giggle in a voice that wasn’t hers. He could feel the softness of the green curls that sprouted from her head, and when he slid his eyes to her face he could see a dusting of freckles over lightly tanned skin.
“I told you to get his blood, not use it,” he growled out, shoving her off before swinging around in his computer chair.
“But he was so cute I couldn’t help myself,” the girl whined, still not transforming back into her usual self. The girl held her arms out, spinning around slowly in a playful manner. “I can see why you like him, Shiggy!”
“Change back, now,” he hissed, not interested in her games.
“Fine,” she snapped, her skin starting to melt and eventually the image of Midoriya Izuku fell away and in place was one of his long term companions standing sheepishly in his place.
“Did you give the sample to the doctor?” he asked, hating that he was somewhat disappointed when Toga changed back into her youthful self.
“I did, and I didn’t keep any for myself either,” she rocked on her feet, hands behind her back and Tomura knew she was lying but he really didn’t care. As long as they had enough for the doctor to get a profile on the man he was happy. “Why did you want it anyway?”
“Because I can find very little information on him,” he growled back, turning back to his computer and pulling up what he did have. “I have his UA records, but even then some of the information has been blacked out, and there’s a period of time where is employment record is completely blank. It’s like until he started his medical degree he had completely dropped off the face of the earth, and that makes me nervous.”
“But didn’t he help you?” Toga leant forward, staring at high school picture of the man.
“Yes, and that is exactly why he unnerves me,” the villain bit out. “No one is that good, no one!”
“He is a doctor, Shiggy, isn’t that like, what they do?” the girl pressed again, still not understanding that this green haired man had him on edge.
“He didn’t even recognise me!” he spat back, eyes narrowed and nostrils flaring. “Me! Shigaraki Tomura, leader of the Paranormal Liberation Front!”
“We’ve been under ground for a pretty long time, boss,” Twice entered the room, joining the conversation as he had obviously heard Toga’s voice and followed it. “Last time most people heard of you we were still the league of villains and even now you have re-destero being the public face.”
“That’s not the point!” he slammed his hand down on his desk. “He should know who I am!”
“Somebody has a crush,” Toga sung out, hands together and batting her eyes.
“Oh, a crush!” twice joined in on the teasing. “You want us to kidnap him, Boss?”
“Get out!” he snapped, sick of them already, and they didn’t need to be told twice. They bolted out of the room and their leader slumped down in his seat, hands together and glaring at the screen.
He hated it but they were right. The man had gotten under his skin and it was the first time in a long time that he felt the inconvenient feelings of need and desire flare up in him. When the man was suturing his arm up all he could do was stare at the man’s face, taking in every little detail like the way his lips moved as he muttered to himself. It took everything in him to leave that apartment, to not do what Twice suggested and kidnap the man, but Tomura had learnt that it wasn’t wise to make brash decisions, not with so much hanging on the line.
The heroes were sniffing at his heels, digging into his business in an attempt to find out their plans. Hawks being on of them, which was inconvenient but convenient at the same time as it meant he could drop false bits of information to twice knowing it would get back to the hero. Then there were the up and comers, like Lemillion, All Might’s protégé and what some people were calling his nemesis. The idea of it made him snort. Lemillion was nothing but an All Might rip off, right down to the tacky smile, and it was only due to poor timing that Tomura hadn’t decayed him. What was an issue though was the Endeavour agency. They had some of the strongest up and coming heroes, their quirks more powerful and developing quickly, like Dynamight. The villain hated to admit it, but the brat had gotten a clean shot on him a few times and each time they met he gave him more of a challenge.
“Tomura,” a knock drew his attention and he craned his neck back to see the stoutly doctor at the door. “I have the information you wanted.”
“Give it here,” he reached out his hand, snatching the papers once the doctor was close enough.
He scanned it a few times, mouth going dry as he read it before looking up over the report and looked at the Gakuri with some shock.
“He’s quirkless?” he asked.
“He is indeed,” the man chuckled. “It took me a moment, but I even assessed him myself when he was a pre-schooler. Poor kid, wanted to be a hero.”
“And now he’s a psychiatrist at Tatarus…,” Tomura drifted off, that fact churning away in his mind. His old master was locked up there and he had been trying to decide if he should break him out. He knew All For One wanted him to carve out his own path, that he had given him his blessing to go his own way, but there was a loyalty there that made him hate the idea of his mentor rotting away in a cell.
“That’s not all,” the doctor was grinning wide, his hand on the rim of his glasses as he adjusted them. “I had Chikazoku look into him. It appears he has close ties to Nezu and the hero commission.”
“But he’s quirkless. What interest would they have in him?” he found himself musing out loud, looking at the employment history that had an alias jotted down as a quirk analyser.
“Quirkless, yes, but not having a quirk doesn’t mean you can’t excel in other areas,” the ambitious man pointed out. “If you’re thinking of recruiting him, I’d approve of it. He could even be of help to our research with his expertise.”
“That’s not-,” he stopped himself short, not wanting to admit that he had been planning other things for the man that happened behind closed doors.
“It also appears he has a number of friendships with pro-heroes,” a brown envelope was handed to him and Tomura tore it open. Inside was a number of photographs of the man with different young heroes, like Shoto Todoroki and Uravity. He paused when he got to the photos of a familiar, annoying blonde, his grip tightening on the pictures and accidentally decaying them. “Dynamight and Mr Midoriya seem to be extremely close. The media brush it off, but they spend an unusual amount of time together.”
“Are you saying they’re a couple?” he bit out, jaw clenched and hating the idea of it.
“There’s no concrete evidence, but it seems to be a possibility,” Gakuri mused, hand grasping his chin. “If you could get him on our side, he will have a wealth of knowledge on his pro-hero friends’ quirks. It would give us an advantage as we plan for the future.”
“Enough,” Tomura groaned, feeling a headache forming. He honestly had only been interested in finding out more about the green eyed man for his own personal benefit, but now it seemed like it would be far more difficult if he was surrounded by such high profile people. It wasn’t intimidating, and the benefits would be substantial, but it would require delicate planning to ensure he didn’t run into the man’s associates.