Chapter 3

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Third Person POV

Hitoshi sat quietly on a crate in the warehouse he'd acquired through very legal means. He'd innocently persuaded the previous owner into selling it to him for a very low price.

It was relatively small for a warehouse, a main room (about the size of an elementary school gym), an office and a bathroom. But it suited his needs perfectly.

The warehouse was almost bare, save for a few empty crates on the floor and chains swinging from the rafters.

Hitoshi would furnish it a little soon.

Hitoshi turned his attention to the roughly 13 year old boy he'd managed to pick up. He'd deduced that the prayer that had- embarrassingly enough- sent him to his knees had been the boy's.

Judging by the varying degrees of burns and their locations, Hitoshi realized this was probably the kid who'd become the villain Dabi. Touya Todoroki. Hitoshi'd become decently well acquainted with his youngest brother Shoto Todoroki on his first run. The family resemblance was definitely there.

"What's your deal?" Touya asked, (he wasn't Dabi yet) Hitoshi stayed silent, he continued to stare at the boy's features, memorizing them.

Touya shifted uncomfortably, "I'm- I'll just be over here." He wandered off to the corner furthest away from Hitoshi.

Hitoshi suppressed a grin, one of the most feared villains afraid of him? How absolutely delicious.

Hitoshi watched the boy for a few more minutes. Touya's eyes kept flicking to Hitoshi before quickly flicking away.

Touya wasn't outwardly scared, simply uncomfortable. But he was going about dealing with it entirely wrong. By hiding in a corner he was making himself seem scared, which was not true. To the dismay of Hitoshi of course, he'd been so sure a future villain was scared of him.

The boy clearly had something on his mind, which is what the eye flicking was. The boy had also opted to lean against a wall in a corner to limit any uncomfortable or nervous movement. While that wasn't necessarily stupid, it was still better to pretend. Pretend you're perfectly comfortable and people will either fear you, respect you, or both fear and respect you.

Human beings by nature trust their eyes. It was easy to manipulate and fool them that way. It was a trick Hitoshi was using right now. The high that had come from indirectly killing his parents had worn off. Meaning, Hitoshi was beyond exhausted.

He'd truly wasted no time in crossing number one off his list right after time and dimension travelling.

Hitoshi's solution to the bone deep exhaustion he was feeling, was to not blink. This was probably also a reason Touya had retreated to the corner farthest away from Hitoshi. His mind was slowing down. Hitoshi wasn't sure how much longer he could avoid blinking, he was certain that the moment his eyelids drooped down he'd be out like a light.

"Touya," he called.

The boy froze, "H-how do you know my name?"

Hitoshi let his face split into a grin, "I know a lot of things." His left eye twitched.

Touya opened his mouth to say something, but didn't. He stayed silent.

"You're welcome to leave whenever you want, Touya. But you're also free to stay." Hitoshi wandered over to the warehouse's office room, he was losing the battle.

"Wait!" Touya took a few quick steps towards Hitoshi, "Can I really stay?"

"That is what I just said. Don't be excessively loud and I don't have a problem." Hitoshi closed the office door behind him and shut the blinds. The hard warehouse floor was looking increasingly inviting.

He signed in content, he had full confidence the boy would stay, but those thoughts could wait.

He leant down against the nearest wall and let his eyelids fall.

-+-

Touya smiled, a genuine, happy smile.

Zoldyck might be the strangest child Touya had ever met, but he would get used to it.

He finally had a place to stay, a roof over his head. A fully functional bathroom, albeit without a shower or bath, but anything was better than nothing.

Touya didn't entirely know how Hitoshi was planning to pay for electrical bills, but he figured he didn't need to worry.

Touya had watched the interaction between the purple haired child and the previous owner, the child was good. Very good. Infact, the kid was so good Touya couldn't even put words to what had happened. It was like he'd blinked and suddenly the warehouse belonged to a five year old kid.

Touya suspected the kid had probably used a quirk of some kind, he's not sure which kind though. He figured he'd know in due time.

Thinking about the kid's quirk allowed his thoughts to drift back to his own. He had a fire quirk, but he couldn't use it to its full extent because he'd kill himself. It was stupid, his father gave up on him the second he'd found out he wasn't resistant to fire.

He'd stomped all over Touya's hopes and dreams. Then he'd left him to die, consumed by his own flames. The ending would've been rather poetic, had it not been for Touya's will. He wasn't about to let himself die, he wouldn't die before he became greater than his father ever was.

His father was a pathetic man, if he thought about it. Unfortunately, he'd been too blinded by hero worship to realize it sooner. A small part (read: large part) of Touya still sought his father's approval and desired to be a hero.

He hated himself for it. Why did he seek the acceptance of a man who threw him away like nothing? Maybe Touya was the pathetic one, maybe his father's words had merit.

Touya loved hated his father with a fiery passion. He'd destroy him. Brick by brick, until there is nothing left of the man he used to be. Touya would spare his siblings and mother, they were victims of Endeavor as well. The hero didn't deserve happiness, and Touya would be the one to take it from him.

'I'll end you.'

-+-

Two shadowed figures stood in front of a house. The house was freshly abandoned, the stench of a corpse covered the property. It was a wonder no one had investigated yet.

"Our Lord walks this plane." The first figure stated.

"Are you certain?" The second asked.

"Yes. We must welcome him."

"Sacrifices?"

The first figure closed its eyes momentarily, before snapping them open with a certain clarity. "Three. An elderly woman, a middle aged man, and a newly born babe."

"They will be found." The second figure assured.

"Our Lord was not created to save desperate souls." The first figure said.

"No," The second agreed, "our Lord is no hero, but nor is he a villain."

"He holds the power of the ever changing universe. He needs sacrifices worthy of his position."

"Quirkless sacrifices?" The second figure inquired.

"Yes, they are pure, untainted by power."

"The babe?"

"It will be pure enough, with or without a quirk." The first assured.

The second figure bowed its head, "I will see to it."

The second figure vanished, leaving the first standing alone. The first figure continued to stare at its Lord's childhood home. The people who'd brought him into this world had never deserved its Lord.

The first figure's only regret was not having rescued its Lord years prior.

The first figure's gaze lingered on the house a moment longer, before it too, vanished into the night.



Thoughts?

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