Warped

Gran Torino

     "We're... Here?" Midoriya asked tentatively, looking up at the older brick building with a broken welcome sign over it.

     "Mmn, " she nodded approvingly, "It's quite inconspicuous for a hero. Better than those big headquarters in plain sight."

     "Wouldn't it be shady if they weren't...?"

     Sakura just ignored the boy, opening the door without a care.

     "Aren't you supposed to knock first?" It was just common courtesy to go into someone's home if you're invited.

      Instead she waved him on in, watching as he sped up a bit to stand by her side. Before them was a short old man, dressed in white, yellow, and grey. A huge splatter of ketchup was on the floor and so were sausages and broken pieces of... Ceramic?

     "I'm Sakura Haruno, " she greeted to the man, "I'm here with special permission from the Principal."

     He eyed her knowingly. "I know of your case already."

     Then he turned to Izuku who was frozen at the door. "What about you?"

     "I-I'm Izuku Midoriya!" he stuttered out, "I'm a student from U.A."

     "What?" he asked, putting his hand near his ear.

     Sakura just snorted at the old man's farce. Poor Izuku just didn't realize that he was being made a fool of slightly. The man was wearing a hero's costume and was more than likely the person that they were interning with. He wouldn't be so weak to be shaking all the time and struggling to hear.

     "Aren't you going to help me clean up?" Gran Torino questioned to her with a scornful expression.

     "I don't want to insult someone that's fully capable of doing it himself at such a tender age."

     No, she wasn't there to be slaved around like Deku. He needed to be shown that Sakura was indeed different than anyone else he has encountered throughout the years. 

     "S-Sakura-san?"

      Plopping down on the couch, she laid her body across it, lazily having her head hang off to watch. "I want to watch the show..."

      "Too bad you can't control One for All yet, " she grumbled to herself, a bit irritated.

     Then the case numbered '18' was grabbed out of Midoriya's hands. Looking through it, Gran Torino came to like the costume, appreciating the craftsmanship.

     "Do you have a hero costume?" he asked Sakura.

     Thinking about it in her head, she could probably whip up something decent enough to fit the 'hero costume' category. Rummaging through scrolls and what they're labelled, she took out certain articles of clothing as if they had been originally packed into the suitcase.

     In the end she stuck with sandals, a black sports bra, a fishnet top, and knee-high shorts. She stayed with the all-black look, obviously not the most heroic of colors, but if Aizawa could pull it off, so could she. "Well, here you go."

     Inspecting the clothing, a small smile formed on the retired hero's face. He had noticed the flexible, metallic material padded into the non-see-through clothing for armor.  There was also the chance that he saw the protective layer of gloss over the fishnet to prevent it from being cut.

     "This is well made, " he complimented, "Though it shows too much skin."

     "I can't be too picky, " she sighed, "I just had to throw things together."

     A glint caught in his eye as he realized what she meant. Sakura had other clothing armored like this for a peculiar reason. Though Nezu never specified her quirk, she was oddly prepared on the defense.

     Finally, he turned his attention back to Midoriya, wanting to test how far he had gotten in mastering his inherited quirk. Sakura, on the other hand, didn't flinch as Gran Torino suddenly stopped his momentum on the wall, causing it to crack.

     "I don't want this place to crumble around me, " she commented, flipping over to find a more comfortable position on his couch. 

     Finally the welcoming of the incapable hero-in-training had ended.  While that had happened, she had been busily shoving food into her mouth that she had pulled from her luggage bag. 

     The boy was laying on the floor, clearly winded. Chuckling softly, she put away her food and went into an empty room to change. "I'll see you all later. My entertainment has been filled for the day."

     "Sakura-san, where are you going?" he asked her confusedly.

     "My other reason for coming with, " she informed before shutting the door.

     Midoriya just wasn't her only reason of coming after all. She had things to do and Gran Torino just seemed to be the person that would let her do her things. He looked like the type to understand.

     Although she didn't need to change, all she really needed was a genjutsu, she once more changed herself to look like her alternate identity, Tsunade Senju. There had been hushed news of a miraculous miracle worker that managed to heal something that normally couldn't be. Still, anyone in the underground had to have heard about her.

      Her fans had been stored in an extra storage scroll since they were her weapons as Sakura. The last thing she wanted was to have Tsunade connected to Sakura so early in her plans.

     Donning on a baseball cap and black-lens sunglasses, she sped off to a bigger city that was  over an hour away. Although it wasn't a prominent city like Tokyo, they had a well renowned mafia boss that still hadn't been caught by the heroes. Even more so, they had connections all over, making it one of the biggest information dealings in Japan.

     Why would they even let her in the door in the first place?

     Well, by investigating just on her own on how far the identity had gotten out, she found traces of the same group looking into her. So, just by that it was easy to confirm that the boss was intrigued by her. Depending on the way the deal goes, he would have a great ally or a terrible enemy.

     Thank everything holy that she had herself appear as a young lady just old enough to drink, because the stereotypical place that a member would be at is a bar. Walking in through the entrance, she watched as all the sounds suddenly stopped, and they were all looking at her. Of course a young, pretty woman in odd, revealing-looking clothing would look out of place.

     "... I'm looking for the Dead Eyes group."