The air suddenly feels thin, when that man steps onto the scene. Izuku had felt it earlier, too, in the way Eri clung a little tighter. Now, in the trembling fear of his own men. Almost disregarding the young hero entirely in favor of cowering.
If eyes are the windows to the soul then looking into Chisaki Kai’s held proof that he has none. They are deep, bottomless, empty. Even as his voice betrays his anger those eyes hold no light.
Even as he shreds one of his own allies into gorey ribbons.
It sends a shiver through Izuku, making him falter slightly. Letting loose the previously carefully aimed arrow. It sinks uselessly into the mud and he takes a step back, notching another arrow; shakily aiming it at Chisaki.
“The bullets have no effect on him-”
“He can still use his Quirk?”
So that’s what they were? Not sedatives like his arrows, but quirk suppressants? How had they even managed to create something like that? There were quirks, like Eraser Head’s that could temporarily disable quirks, but a drug that does the same thing…Izuku had never heard of something like that.
It was good news, though, because it meant a few things. First, they don’t know who he is. They don’t know he’s a UA student and they don’t know he’s quirkless. He’d gained a moderate amount of fame after the Sports Festival, but not enough notoriety that he’d register even as a blip on their radar. Which means he still has a couple secrets left. He doesn’t know how he’s going to use that, yet, but it’s an advantage; however slight.
Second, now he knows what those bullets do. They won’t effect someone like him, someone who relies on weapons. But what position would these guys be in if they can’t use their quirks? If Chisaki can’t turn someone to mince meat in seconds? If he can just get his hands on one of those guns…it’s over, he can do it; he can win.
Third, backing down is absolutely not a choice now. More than Eri who knows what kind of damage could be caused by quirk suppressants in the hands of villains?
Plan formulating quickly, Izuku shifts again, aiming towards the one with the gun; the one next to Chisaki. It proves to be futile, though, as the next second he’s encompassed by a stone prison; unable to move. It forces the bow and arrow out of his hands and digs into his skin.
Involuntarily, he lets out a hiss of pain, unable to respond to the leader who was now addressing him directly. It hurts, but he’s certainly survived worse. And this guy has shown he could kill him in an instant. He’s still alive, though, and he doesn’t know why but he knows that means he has the chance to fight.
Struggling just deepens his wounds, blood covering the stones and dripping into the mud.
Why wasn’t he dead yet? Think, think. What reason could he have for keeping a trespasser alive when he was willing to dispatch his own men easily. Perhaps his quirk’s effects were temporary? The large one now seemed to be whole again. No, even then, all he had to do was close these jagged stone bars in and Izuku would be toast.
Information. That small advantage. Izuku doesn’t know how much it’s worth to Chisaki, but he needs a distraction. His arrow supply is at his hip. If he can use one of the bombs to dispel the stone prison, he’ll have the chance to obtain those quirk suppressing bullets.
He needs a distraction, and he knows of one person who’s excellent at poking the buttons of his opponents.
Always intense, always serious, and now instilled with fear and adrenaline; Izuku’s own imitation of that cocksure smile is more of a nervous grimace but he continues anyway. Making eye contact with Chisaki the best he was able to from his current trapped position.
“Are you sure you guys are really Yakuza? These guys sure got smacked around pretty easily by a kid,”
“And after all that you still haven’t figured out that a quirk suppressant isn’t going to work on someone who’s quirkless,”
“You casually told someone like me that there’s an underground to your base, too. Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”
“Did you really think I’d let you live, let alone leave this place? Pretty optimistic of you, th-”
A realization makes him pause. Quirkless, truly? He had heard of a rare percentage of people who still failed to manifest Quirks, but they were practically an outdated form of humankind... His plan did, naturally, revolve around ridding society of Quirks altogether and ‘resetting’ humanity back to such a state. Relying on Eri’s quirk had always left a sour aftertaste in his mouth, not because he saw anything innately wrong with the lengths of which he had toiled to even get to this stage. Having a Quirk, needing it’s power and capabilities to ensure his plans would finally, finally come to fruition- He’d endured it, tolerated the hypocrisy of it all to prove to the Boss that his path was the right choice. That it was the road that lead to the salvation of their kind. No more hiding in the shadows, no more dismissive jeers about how the yakuza equated to a tired old dog that had lost it’s fangs.
To think that such a pivotal piece would fall directly into his lap like this.
“Nemoto, take Eri. Hari, get over here,” he commands with an edge to his tone, grabbing the other man’s mask roughly and reducing him to a fine crimson mist. Blood rains down upon the leaves and stalks of plants, staining the clothes of his underlings in a morbid display. Kurono gasps as soon as his body is reformed, falling to the ground on weary legs that couldn’t support his weight just yet. Those fresh muscles needed time to limber up and stretch before he’d be able to walk.
“I’m giving you a chance to make up for your spectacular failure... Be grateful,” Chisaki warns his 2nd in command, stepping past him to approach the boy. He looks almost corpse-like, nothing but lean muscle and bony limbs, dark and heavy bags beneath each eye. Plain and dull, wouldn’t even stand out in a crowd, and yet what his genetic makeup might hold was nothing short of absolute perfection.
“This is gonna hurt, kid. But consider it a contribution made for a charitable cause,” he chuckles, staring down at the ill-fated hero in training with an expression that could only be described as psychopathic.
“What should I take first? Decisions, decisions...”
A long case made of lacquered wood is brought to his hand by Shin, Kai running a finger down the rows of polished and sterilized surgical tools waiting inside.
“It’s been such a long time since I’ve been able to harvest from a fresh specimen,” he breathes almost reverently, all semblance of trying to hold back his perverse excitement thrown to the winds.
“Get Eri ready in the lab- it’s time for her daily collection, as well.”
