The Warped Hero - A MHA Fanfic

Call Me Maybe

AN:  I'm sorry it's been forever! If you've read Vigilantes you'll like part of this one, if  you haven't read it, I suggest you do because it is so good! FYI it's a spin off of MHA, and lots of stuff has happened that impacts the main storyline, but for now, enjoy the small amounts I've put into this.

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Noir sipped her coffee, the local place she'd stopped in void of customers. Perfect for her though, no one to watch her.

Wearing some jeans and a gray jacket over a simple white tee-shirt, Noir looked inconspicuous as a civilian, but the weird looks the servers were giving her didn't settle right. It was probably just because they got locals and they'd never seen her before, let alone at such a slow time.

Noir peeked up as one of the servers approached her table. They had a mutant quirk, giving the person distinct pray mantis features. His face was slightly more human like, but he had the legs, arms, hands—or lack thereof—of a pray mantis.

But it was impressive how well he pulled off the shops uniform.

"Could I get you anything else ma'am?" He asked, Noir smiled up at him like any good old civilian.

"Nah' I'm good. You guys have a pretty good cup of coffee though. Haven't had something like this in a while." Investigation began with intel, and flattery had gotten Noir plenty of places before.

He beamed down at her, "Thank you! Though I'm not the one who blends it." Looks like it worked.

Noir quirked an eyebrow, "Oh? Who does?"

He nodded in the direction of another guy messing with some coffee beans behind the counter, "The Hoppers brothers, this place used to be a recycling shop, but one thing lead to another and now it's a coffee shop! Oh, I'm Kamyan by the way!"

"Tantei, nice to meet you. How long've you guys been in business?" Noir asked, sugar coating her voice just enough to seem innocent.

Kamyan smiled proudly, "Seven great years! Er, give or take. We've all been here since the beginning! Everyone here, we were all in a group of friends. Though one of em's not here anymore. He's the one that gave us the idea though."

"Really?"

Kamyan nodded, "Oh yeah, he was actually a pro hero. He'd come by this place when it was still a recycling shop and the owners would let him have some coffee. Always black. Eventually we all decided to get together and start up this shop because the owners got so good at making coffee."

Noir quirked her eyebrow, "That's some story, so you guys get a lot of locals I'm assuming?"

"Definitely, we—" The bell over the shop's door rung and Kamyan peeked over his shoulder. He smiled, then turned back to her, "It's gotten to become pretty popular, if I do say so myself. Now if you could excuse me."

"Sure, sure. Don't let me stop you from doing your job," Noir said.

Kamyan nodded, then went over to serve the newly arrived customer. Noir turned back to her cup and frowned. It was unlikely any of these people had any info on the Hero Killer before he became a murderer. Chances were he'd never even encountered these people before.

Still, the reports she'd dug up about the last ten to fifteen years concerning vigilantism had been shocking to say the least. The area had seen several unlicensed people using their quirks, categorized as mainly just helping people around the neighborhood. That was, until a bit later where the cases got a bit...messy, for lack of a better term.

Noir had discerned none of the more permanent vigilantes had quirks like the Hero Killers blood quirk. Plus, the pictures she'd gotten her hands on, albeit blurry, were definitely not the Hero Killer.