Checkmate (ShinDeku)

24

*Warning: Violence, Mentions of Death, And Gore.

Were there moments in Izuku's life where he questioned how his life decisions had led up to one exact moment?

Did he ask himself if he'd been slightly less of a smartass, would he have gotten punched in the face? If he hadn't gone out of his way to prove he didn't need anyone, would he have more than three friends? If he hadn't once made an offhanded remark along the lines of "sleeping is for lame people" in front of Tsu would he have not had to run away like a coward from a furious green-haired girl while dodging the crackers she'd been hurling at him?

No.

Not usually.

But he sure as hell was now.

---

Darkness crawled around the space in thick waves, encompassing every inch except for a small circle in the very middle, where a single orangy-red light shone down. It was only bright enough to see a foot or so on either side, casting shadows across Izuku's cheeks and neck. 

The sweatshirt was gone, only a thin white tank top protecting his skin from the cold. Although the chill running down his spine and goosebumps speckling across his arms seemed to be the least of his worries. 

Thick chains wrapped around each side of the metal chair, forcing his forearms down. He couldn't lift his hand at all, no matter how hard he pulled, the metal just dug further and further into his wrists and arm. 

Understandably, waking up alone here hadn't put him in the best of moods; but it wasn't the kind of bad mood where he got shit done and knew all the right things to say so he played the role of confident hero, and they of floundering villain. His confidence had left him the second he realized he'd willingly clung to the enemy and thoughtlessly thanked him, or maybe it had left when he lost sight of Hitoshi. His weakness had been the League's gain. The roles were no longer black and white and he didn't know how to win when colors blurred. 

They'd gotten Hitoshi, or at the very least, separated them. Maybe he was still walking in the streets looking for Izuku, or trapped somewhere under the fallen shambles with no hope in sight, or he was simply gone. 

How was he supposed to play his fucking role without knowing if the person he loved was okay? 

Izuku was scared. 

Metal on metal scraped and for one deafening second the room was filled with light, but just as quickly the door closed and the room blinked back to darkness. Footsteps sounded and all too suddenly there was someone in the room with him. He could feel their silent presence, cold and calculating, somewhere in front of him. 

"Occult. The Secretive Hero. Real identity- unknown. Connections-unknown. Quirk-unknown." A file dropped to the ground, the edge falling into the light just enough to where he could see his name printed across the front. 

He swallowed.

"So tell me, how does it feel to have the entire world fascinated by you? Do you find pleasure in their pained curiosity?" 

No.

Yes.

Sometimes.

The footsteps came closer until the tip of one leather shoe was basked in orange. 

He didn't know if he'd even be able to answer. Everything felt fuzzy.

"I understand you might not want to talk right now, but I feel it is vital you know it's in your best interest to not ignore me." As the words came out a painful shock flew down Izuku's spine, the anticipation almost worse than the underlying threat.