Crimson Murders

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Honestly, I enjoy this chapter. It's short but bittersweet. Um, I have an outtake at the end, I suggest reading it. XD I don't know why I even have it. And my updates may slow down a bit, but I will do my best to keep up with them.

The two enemies—the two friends sit next to each other, burning holes into each other's forms. If looks could kill, the two would've been dead ten times over. In the food court, in one of the booths, Tomura is holding Izuku hostage without anyone's notice. One hand on his waist with a finger hovering over the hip. Izuku is rigid, staring into the depth of his drink as if it held the answers to the world—some deep psychological proverb that can magically get him out of this situation, but nothing is there. The silence between them is deafening. Shigaraki is studying the boy that he can easily kill, tightening his hand on his hip and earning a sharp intake of breath and a snort. He squirms under his touch which lets the villain know something he did not want anyone to know. He's ticklish. Damn. He hopes the man-child doesn't have the brains to figure it out. Oh thank god, he doesn't. Midoriya glances away, hoping to catch sight from one particular person from his peripheral vision to no avail.

  "What do you want to know Shigaraki?" Then a sly and cheeky smile comes to his face. "And what makes you think that I will give you any true answers?" He reaches up and takes his sunglasses off, revealing toxic eyes. He knows that this insane man-child can kill everyone around him and he has to play his cards right, or a massacre will occur and he can see just how many. They hold shadows that cling to them like a lifeline, for they are signs of the end of the people's lifeline.

  "You're the type who always goes to the heart of the problem." The fortunate thing is, Beetle is not there to make a statement like saying hearts are delicious or something dumb like that. The only fortunate thing, but seriously, he needs assistance that damn bastard. "You're right. Of course, you don't have to be truthful or anything, you just won't learn anything useful for your—ah—beautiful Crimson Artist."

  There is no way you know anything about her. You are lying, trying to get into my head. "I know enough about her," he lies in attempt to sound convincing.

  "Yes, but do you know who exactly she is?" He grins slightly in victory when he sees the contemplative gleam in those eyes. Curiosity is the key to one's downfall. "That's what I thought. An exchange of information. That's all I want," he proposes as he grips his hip tighter. "And I won't lie to you as long as you don't lie to me."

Midoriya clenches his teeth. He cannot take the deal no matter what. He can't. After all, he can't know who she is. How could he? "You've met her?"

He shrugs, moving his hand up to his shoulder. "I'm here because of her. She wants you in her grasp, but that's never going to happen. No, I won't let her get her dirty hands on you." He gives him a sickly sweet smile as he drags a finger down the side of his face. "She will have to pry you from my cold dead hands. You interest me, Izuku."

His body goes rigid, tension filling his muscles. His eyes on the tall villain who is ready to kill him at any moment. "Why?"

"Why? Because I don't take orders from stingy witches, and like I said, you interest me." I mean, someone who can't die? Well, I want to know how many times you have to die before your mind gets muddled with a variety of memories? Yes, I watched you that night in Hosu, I saw you take that blade and rise right back up, like it was nothing after three minutes. You can't hide anything from me, Izu.

"Witch? Did she—? Never mind. I don't believe you. You don't know who she is."

He clicks his tongue at him, wagging a finger in front of his face. He enjoys this. He dangles everything the boy needs to know in front of him and yanks it away. He just needs to continue playing. "You don't know that and we're running out of time."