Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was supposed to be a normal job, killing some members of a low-level cartel in the southern part of Red Grave. He wasn't used to taking such easy jobs, but he needed the money, and kicking some mobsters' asses seemed like enough entertainment for the 16-year-old at the moment. And to make things even better, some demons showed up, making things a little more exciting.

Killing demons and teaching lessons to underworld bosses through violence was a normal weekday for Tony Redgrave. What wasn't normal was the scene unfolding before his eyes. In the dark, enclosed space where the cartel he had just destroyed was located, there was a huge crack in the ceiling—not just a crack in the ceiling, but a glowing crack, and strange sounds were coming from it.

Tony was staring intently at the thing on the ceiling as if its very existence were an personal attack on him. And it kind of was. Because it could only be a hellgate, and that in itself was absurd, since his father Sparda had sealed off all possible connections between the human world and hell.

"There's no way I'm going to have to deal with any more of your mess, old man", the silver-haired boy thought irritably.

The demons who'd arrived to spice up Tony's party while he was dealing with the cartel had long since disintegrated, but one thing was bothering the young man. The scumbags hadn't come from the rift, but were trying to get to it. Obviously, Tony wouldn't allow that to happen. He wondered for a moment if the rift was the work of the cartel, but quickly dismissed the idea. The losers didn't seem like the type to dabble in the occult, only drugs and bank robberies (Tony had done his homework and minimally researched his target).

Well, it doesn't matter who opened it, maybe it just spawned here alone. This thought made Tony groan in frustration. He had to solve this; he couldn't let it escalate. It would eventually become a bigger problem, and it would become his problem anyway.

Scanning the deplorable place, littered with bodies that had once been foul-mouthed mobsters, he found an armchair. Quickly removing the body, he realized he would get his new boots dirty. "Great, just what I needed", Tony sighed.

Using the armchair as a sort of ladder, Tony approached the crack in the moldy ceiling. What he didn't expect was that the moment he got close enough to touch the opening, a massive suction force caught him off guard.

"Oh fuck," was the last thing the young albino said before he was completely swallowed through the rift and his vision went black.

When Tony regained consciousness, he expected to be in a putrid place, filled with hideous creatures, red and bloody ground, and a strong smell of sulfur. Instead, he smelled garbage and, looking up, saw a nearly cloudless blue sky. He was in a trash can.

"Oh shit, my coat!" he said as he quickly got out of the trash can. He dared to sniff his coat and quickly regretted it. "Oh, that's disgusting, I'm going to have to take a shower after this," the young man said tiredly, picking up the guitar case that was lying nearby.

After checking that everything was correct with the case, he turned to the trash can as if it had personally offended him.

"I'm not an expert on religion or anything like that, but a dirty alley wasn't what I expected hell to be like," Tony said running his hand along the sticky wall of the alley, "why is it sticky? Oh, I don't want to know, how disgusting", he said quickly pulling his hand away and walking quickly out of the alley.

The sight the albino saw made him freeze. Contrary to his initial impression, he didn't seem to be in hell, as there were people walking around normally. This made Tony breathe a sigh of relief; he wasn't as screwed as he thought. However, something made his apprehension return: these people weren't speaking english, but japanese. The realization hit him like a truck.

"I'm in Japan?!" Tony exclaimed in shock and without even realizing it, also out loud, making several people look at him. Uncomfortable with the sudden attention, he simply lowered his head and began walking down the street.

"That thing sent me to the other side of the world? Oh, what a pain, I had to pick up a new package with the old lady today, she's going to kill me, I need to find a way to call her and buy a ticket back, thank goodness I had received 50% of the money before, but this was definitely not how I wanted to spend it... Oh, what a terrible day, at least I know the basics of Japanese because of that job I did with Grue some time ago", he thought, putting his hands in his pocket and walking to look for some kind of public telephone.

Meanwhile, he began to notice some slightly worrying things. The phones people passing by were very different from the ones people in Red Grave had; perhaps it was some kind of new technology he simply didn't know about because he had no interest in cell phones. Tony tried to get one once, at Nell's insistence, but it broke the same day he got it, and the old lady wouldn't repair his guns for a week because of it. Tony found the punishment quite unfair; it's not his fault the thing was so delicate.

But that wasn't all. He passed an electronics store with TVs on display, and it seemed like every news channel was reporting the same thing. From what Tony could tell, it was an attack on a group of students from a local school. Nothing too special for Tony Redgrave, of all people, until they showed footage of the alleged attack. And Tony can admit, this wasn't one of his finest moments, but the moment he saw the students' garish and extremely colorful costumes, he started laughing out loud. "They were attacked during a costume party? What kinda of clothes are these?" he said, doubling over with laughter. There was even a boy wearing a bird mask, which made him almost choke.

Unfortunately, this earned Tony some unpleasant looks, which signaled it was time to continue his search for a payphone. But before that, he felt a sharp object jab at his back. "Hand over your wallet, foreigner, or you're done for", he heard someone say behind him. "At least he's saying something I understand", the young man thought as he allowed himself to be guided into an alley; after all, he couldn't handle the guy in the middle of the crowd.

When they were finally out of sight, the man armed with what Tony thought was a pocketknife prepared to say something, but before any sound could come out of his mouth, the albino, with inhuman speed, ducked and tripped the robber, who fell to the ground in fright. Before he could even react, Tony stomped hard on his chest, knocking the air from his lungs. "A tip: next time you try to rob someone, be more charismatic. That was the most boring robbery attempt I've ever been a part of. I mean, that wasn't even scary, you didnt do it right—" Before continuing, Tony finally noticed something.

Something that left him slightly disturbed.

The hand where Tony thought his assailant was holding a knife wasn't a hand at all, but a blade. This guy had no fingers. "A demon?" But the young man quickly dismissed that idea. The man in question smelled too human for that, and demons were never about stealing people, but more about killing and tearing them apart. And if it was a demon the guye wou alredy have called him "The traitor's blood!", or whatever.

"What the hell is this? ", Tony said, a little disconcerted, looking at the hand in question. This reaction seemed to make the robber, who was still trapped under his boot, irritated. "I know it's ugly, you don't need to humiliate me more than I already am, I didn't wish to be bron like this, alright?"

"That sounds really sad, but I'm not a therapist, man, and I don't believe your lie either. After all, that thing is metal," Tony said, crouching down on the chest of the man who was still stuck on the ground to inspect the strange member. "It's my quirk, man, that thing," he said, huffing in frustration.

"Your what? Quirk?" Tony said with a look of genuine confusion that caught the thug by surprise who replied, "You know your quirk, the powers you inherit from your parents?"

This made Tony get off the man who, looking better, didn't seem much older than him. He scratched his head, "Powers? And everyone has them?" The thief still on the ground nodded and added, "Most of them at least." This made the mercenary run his hand over his face, "I'm definitely not in hell, but this is definitely not my home".

Now it was the man's turn to look at Tony in confusion, "why do you seem so baffled by this, this is all basic information and like you have a quirk", the man said finally getting up from the ground, for a second he wondered what the strange teenager's quirk was, "something involving speed for sure".

"Obviously I have a quirk, a really cool one that's none of your business," Tony said, quickly turning to face the boy with a hand on his chest and a confident smile. "Look, I was going to beat you unconscious in this alley, but change of plans! You're lucky I need to know where there's a library around here, and you're going to help me in exchange for your well-being. It seems fair to me," the gray-haired boy exclaimed, looking at him slyly. Suddenly, the atmosphere in the alley changed completely, and the other man felt suffocated and hot out of nowhere. "Are we clear, bro?" The mercenary asked with a smile, but his tone was extremely cold. The robber nodded tremblingly and left the alley. Tony promptly followed him.

After pointing to a huge, futuristic-looking building with lots of windows, the pale robber ran off as fast as he could. Tony chuckled at this and entered the building. Inside were several shelves with many books arranged in what he assumed was alphabetical order. Beyond the shelves were several things that the young man could only assume were computers. "Not bad", he thought.

Before heading to the computers, he walked through the shelves until he found an English-Japanese dictionary that he would definitely steal from that place. As he strolled through the library, he finally began to notice how clean the atmosphere of this place he found himself in was, unlike all the places he had been before. Because no matter where he went, there was always that trail of demons hunting him, however, that seemed nonexistent here. "A place without demons, is that really possible?" he whispered to himself, running a hand over his face. He didn't know whether to laugh or knock over the bookshelf in front of him.

But then he remembered the scene of the demons trying to pass through the rift before. This made him grip the dictionary in his hand tighter, "whatever is happening is definitely not good and it will definitely fall on me", the mercenary sighed tiredly.

Leaving that question aside for the moment, he went to the computer area. The computers were sleek and futuristic, and after an embarrassing three minutes of trying, he finally managed to turn one on. "aha!", he said excitedly, until the information on the screen made him stop.

The date on the monitor.

August 12, 2256.

Tony looked at the computer as if it had slapped him, color completely draining from his face. He wanted to puke. But instead he suddenly started laughing, not because it was funny, but because it was such an absurd situation that it was the only thing left for him to do now: laugh. Tony only remembers feeling as hopeless as he did now only once in his life before. What could he do now?

His laughter caught the attention of the librarian, an old woman who looked normal and wrinkled like any other old woman. She made a face at him, which reminded him of a certain Methuselah, but he couldn't care less now. Sighing, he sat down in the chair and began researching. During his first few attempts, he managed to change the language to English, which made finding information much easier.

Apparently, one day, for some reason, people started being born with superpowers out of nowhere, and about 80% of the world's population had them, but the vast majority were quite weak. And there were some people with "quirks" that manifested physically. "So, that kid on TV really had a bird's head? How does he eat pizza with a beak? Or maybe he can't? So many questions". People who had strong quirks became "heroes," which made Tony laugh again, earning another dirty look from the librarian.

Heroes. Maybe he's been transported to a comic book after all.

Licensed heroes who worked for the government, "how boring", Tony couldn't help but think. They even had a ranking of the best heroes, with the top spot going to a guy named All Might, a super muscular blond guy with spiky hair.

The mercenary watched some videos of the so-called "#1 hero," and he really looked like the kind of superhero that come from kids imagination: smiling, confident, strong, and with extremely embarrassing moves. "Why is he shouting the names of the American states? Jackpot has much more style, modesty aside". This All might actually looked quite strong, with one of his moves shaking an entire city block in the video. "I have to admit, impressive," he thought, clapping his hands.

Second place went to a guy named "Endeavor," a red-haired guy with an angry face and fire powers. Tony didn't want to see any videos about him.

From then on, the heroes began to seem increasingly annoying and uninteresting, until he reached a certain hero with giant red wings. "Hawks," was his name. "Is he a cross between a bird and a man, or just a guy with wings?" Tony wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer, but the hero's videos caught him off guard. He was fast. Really fast.

An ordinary human probably wouldn't be able to keep up, but that wasn't a problem for the red-coated mercantile. The way he also seemed to control his feathers with his mind and use them as a sword "They're much tougher than they look", he thought this guy left Tony slightly intrigued.

Suddenly, however, the young man sighed.

"Enough studying, I can't take it anymore," he said, looking at the time. It was already nighttime. He'd spent hours reading, but before leaving, he looked for a cheap hotel nearby to spend the night. He memorized the address, then deleted the history of the last few hours and tucked the dictionary into his coat. He looked around and saw that the library lady was busy tidying up a shelf. He ran through the shelves to the exit.

Tony Redgrave was very tired. So tired that when he got to the cheap place he found ,on a more dangerous part of the city it seemed, he didn't even try to negotiate the price he just paid for the cheapest room in dollar and crashed into the bed.

Unknown to Tony on the other side of the city on the roof of a tall building, a certain hero with disheveled black hair and tired eyes was on the phone.

"An energy pulse that left three blocks of Tokyo without power for hours, what a problem," the man said with a huff. "Okay, okay, I'll investigate, but I have my students first, remember that," he said firmly.

One more thing on his endless list of things to solve.

Chapter Text

A dream, it could all have been just a dream. "It's more like a nightmare", the silver-haired figure thought, getting out of bed. It was neither. Unfortunately for the mercenary, he had a dreamless, nightmare-free sleep. Looking outside, it seemed to be almost nighttime; the boy would guess around six or seven o'clock. He slept for over ten hours. For some, that would be worrying, but it was common for him.

Tony Redgrave wasn't dreaming, but oh boy he wished he was, anything would be better than being in a completely crazy world where "ordinary" people could have animal heads. Maybe he was too fixated on the "animal people" part, but who can blame him?

If it were any other person of his world in the same situation as him, they would have the same reaction.

Damn, it was at times like these that he missed Bobby's Cellar. Bobby was a reasonably nice guy who made great drinks and strawberry sundaes and didn't complain much about his growing debt at the bar. Besides, it was the place where he always got jobs, either through some other mercenary that no longer wanted said job, or through Enzo, or through Grue.

Tony shuddered at the thought of that last one as he brushed his teeth with the hotel's free products (which he would definitely take with him). "Oh, Grue and I had a job together next week... I wonder if he'll think I'm dead? I wonder if the old lady will think that too?" He then decided to stop thinking about it and focus on what was necessary.

Tony really wanted a drink.

So after taking a decent shower, he grabbed his guitar case and that's what he went looking for: a bar.

It took a while, and his stolen dictionary from the library proved quite useful as he asked for directions, but in all modesty, Tony could argue that his Japanese wasn't bad. The cheap hotel receptionist who had to ask him to repeat himself four times would probably disagree.

But that didn't matter.

He found a bar.

From the outside, it looked like it was falling apart. It even had a broken window, loud rock music coming from inside, and a neon sign that kept flashing. Tony couldn't make out what it said. It looked like Bobby's Cellar, but it didn't have the familiar faces or the sign on the door, but it was probably the closest thing he could find.

Opening the door, he surveyed the place. The air was heavy with the smell of stale beer, sweat, and cigarette smoke that clung to the peeling walls.,"ugh, great, I hate cigarettes", he couldn't help but wrinkle his nose. A rusty ceiling fan rotated slowly overhead.

The place was packed with rough-looking, loud men. Some hunched over chipped tables, drinking what Tony assumed was cheap beer, while others crowded around a battered pool table, arguing over every shot. Their voices blended into a low, steady rumble, punctuated by harsh laughter and the occasional slam of a glass against the counter. The mercenary could identify one of the men at the pool table in particular who appeared to be made entirely of metal. "That's...kind of cool", he couldn't help but think.

Behind the counter, a tired bartender moved mechanically, cleaning the same dirty glass over and over, barely looking up as more orders were shouted in his direction. The whole place felt heavy, like a room where bad decisions were made and forgotten night after night.

That was exactly what he was looking for.

The young man in the red coat approached the counter and ordered a beer with a smirk and improvised Japanese that he wasn't sure would be understood. For a second, he thought the man was going to ask for some kind of authentication, and that made Tony slightly apprehensive. He had a (fake) ID, but it showed he was a resident of Red Grave, not Tokyo, and the young man really didn't want to answer questions.

But the bartender simply went to the black refrigerator behind the counter and grabbed a bottle. He flicked the cap, opening it, and handed it to him across the counter.

Tony nodded and quickly drank from the bottle, feeling genuine pride, he'd actually managed to order a drink in Japanese! And he hadn't even used the dictionary, which had lightened the mercenary's mood at least a little.

He needed to investigate and find a way to get home, but first, he needed to figure out how to survive in this world. He had money for now, but it wasn't infinite. He wasn't a registered citizen, so even if he wanted a formal job, that wasn't an option. The only thing Tony could think about as he drank the cheap beer was finding a way to continue as a mercenary in this world, but how would he find work?

He was a complete nobody here. When little Tony first arrived at Bobby's Cellar a year and a half ago, full of confidence and pride, claiming he'd be the best mercenary Red Grave had ever seen, he was embraced by the other mercenaries in the bar, despite their laughter. He was initiated, and with that initiation, he suffered his first and only loss in a drinking contest, but to be fair, it was also the first time he'd ever drank and gotten drunk. He still remembers waking up with no money in his pocket the next day.

Tony chuckled at the memory.

As if the universe had finally decided to do something that might be even remotely interesting, the guy who was probably made of metal was suddenly thrown into the bar. He was on a collision course with Tony, but he quickly moved out of the way and let the guy crash with everything in the counter.

Looking at where the attack came from, he saw a group of five men with mohawks and tattoos, slapping and punching each other's arms, as if in some type of commemoration .

"Hey, I don't know if you guys know, but you need to put metal in the recycling bin," Tony said, downing the rest of the beer in his hand in one gulp. He usually doesn't like getting into bar fights, but he wanted to see more of the so-called "quirks" of this world, and what better time than now? And despite being in another world, Tony was still a mercenary. He knew how his world worked and doubted there was much difference between the one he was used to and this one. In places like this, if you throw out the bait, the sharks come to you.

The entire bar fell silent for a brief moment, as if everyone there had held their breath, trying to understand what the hell had just happened. The metal man's body was still stretched out across the bar, knocking over glasses and bottles, as Tony removed the guitar case from his back and placed it on the floor. He looked at the group.

"Okay, I have to ask," he said, spinning the empty beer bottle in his hand, "how the hell did you guys manage to get RoboCop flying here?", RoboCop was something in that dimension, right?

Right?

There's no way he wasted such a good joke on an audience that couldn't even understand it. That would be a shame.

A skinny guy with a red mohawk and tattoos covering his neck smirked and started walking toward Tony. "Some kind of leader, maybe?".

"None of your business, foreigner. Get lost before I throw you over the counter too," he said, but the young albino could hear the tension in the man's voice.

"Foreigner, huh?" "Is it that obvious? Is it my accent or what?" Tony wondered. "Interesting, because where I come from, threats like that usually come with broken bones," he said with a smirk.

The guy nodded and two of the mohawks stepped forward first. One had a layer of stone covering his arm. "Oh, so it was him, they look a lot like tattoos", Tony couldn't help but point out, while the other one sent sparks flying from his fingers, "energy?".

Tony spun the bottle one last time and threw it upward. When the first one tried to lunge forward with a punch, the mercenary snorted, "Even with powers, people are still predictable", he dodged to the side, grabbed the stone fist, and twisted it, making the guy grunt in pain. With his other hand, he delivered a swift punch to the jaw, so precise the entire bar heard the crack. The guy passed out instantly and fell at the teen's feet.

The second one came with his fingers sparking, trying to electrocute him, but Tony caught the bottle he had thrown up, broke it on the guy's arm and grabbing the pointy hair of the unconscious guy on the floor threw him on top of the shocked guy sending them both flying to the other side of the bar.

"Two down. This party's gettin' crazy", Tony said, smiling and adjusting his red coat.

The other two men made a move to approach, but were stopped by the leader, who raised his hand and began cracking his neck. Suddenly, a layer of bony spines began sprouting from his shoulders and arms, forming a carapace.

Tony blinked slowly.

"Oh, so your 'quirk' is turning into a human porcupine," he said with a chuckle. "Congratulations, you're officially the second ugliest thing I've seen today."

"Second huh?", the man asked, walking slowly, "and what was the first one?"

Tony leaned over and reached over to the counter, grabbing one of the few beers still untouched. Quickly opening it and taking a sip, he grimaced, "This beer for sure."

Suddenly, the man lunged forward, aiming to land a spike-covered punch directly at the albino's face.

Tony didn't even flinch.

At the last moment, he tilted his head slightly, dodging the blow by inches, and grabbed the man's arm with one hand. He twisted his wrist with a movement as simple as opening a door. A sharp crack echoed through the bar. The mercenary could hear the terrified gasps of the other men in the bar.

The porcupine-faced man let out a guttural scream and fell to his knees.

Tony sighed in disappointment, "That's what all that attitude was about? I wasn't expecting much, but holy shit."

One of the other members of the nervous group started approaching and tried to attack him by throwing quills at him. "Kind of like the porcupine over there, I wonder if they are related?", Tony wondered, remembering his research from the previous day.

Tony quickly dodged the desperate attempt and grabbed a metal tray from one of the tables and simply threw it towards the man at such an absurd speed that the man was knocked unconscious when it made impact.

The last member then extended his arms and a brutal gust of wind began to head towards Tony and also caused the walls of the bar to shake, however all it really managed to do was get a laugh out of him, "a human fan, wow you sure must be indispensable on hot days", he said as he calmly walked closer to the gang member who was getting paler by the minute. However, before he could do anything, Tony threw a quick punch to his chest, thus causing the last man standing of the gang to collapse.

The entire bar was still silent.

The leader was still on his knees, sweating coldly, staring at Tony as if he'd seen something otherworldly.

"Okay, please stop", he said with difficulty and the albino would be lying if he said he hadn't felt a little bad for a few seconds, but that quickly passed, after all, they were the ones who started all the trouble.

Then, as if nothing had happened, Tony returned to where he'd originally been sitting, grabbed the beer he'd just opened from the bar, and took another sip.

The bartender, whom unlike the other guys in the bar didn't seem at all surprised by the incident, grabbed a broom and dustpan from behind the bar and began to pick up the glass. "he must have seen a lot working here", Tony thought, feeling slightly guilty about the mess.

But Tony did what he did for a reason.

That reason was creeping up on him right now. It wasn't long before a short, overweight man in a rumpled suit approached, holding an unlit cigar in his teeth. He had an old leather briefcase under his arm and a strong smell of sweat and alcohol. "My God, I've found the alternate Enzo", he thought amusedly.

"Nice show, kid. It's been a while since I've seen someone deal with the White Fang so effectively," the man said, stopping on Tony's right and sitting on the bench.

The mercenary lightly raised the bottle toward the man and took a sip.

"Show, huh? I prefer to call it a warm-up." He looked at the man with a cynical smile. "Who am I talking to now?"

"Call me Kuroda. I'm someone who connects talented people with clients who have problems to solve. Problems that official heroes don't touch," the man said, bowing slightly in greeting and adjusting his tie.

Tony arched an eyebrow at that.

"Let me see if I understand, so you recruit people to do the dirty work while the "professionals" save cats from trees?", giving an impressed laugh he continued, "I think we speak the same language then, man"

At that, Kuroda smiled broadly enough to show his yellowed teeth. "Dangerous work, but it pays very well, but I usually only go after people who have some proven effectiveness."

Tony whistled, "You want proof of effectiveness?", he said, pointing to the White Fang men still lying prone and their desolate leader on the ground. "There you go."

Kuroda looked at the pandemonium, chuckled softly, and opened his leather briefcase. He took out a manila envelope and placed it on the counter.

"Simple. A second-rate businessman refuses to pay the toll for our people. You go in there, scare him, and take the money. Half for you, half for the client", he said, clasping his hands.

This isn't the kind of work Tony usually accepts, too boring for what he's used to. It reminds him of the times Enzo begged him to do jobs he said he wouldn't do, "don't tell me I'm starting to miss that guy?", coming back to the present, the teen realized he doesn't have much of a choice at the moment and lets out a weary sigh.

Tony picked up the envelope and glanced quickly.

"What if he has some kind of hero as a bodyguard?", he imagined it wasn't common, but during his research, he'd seen some heroes working like that.

"I don't think that will be the case, but if it is, I don't think it will be a problem after what I saw here today," the man said with a satisfied smile.

Flattery. This made Tony give a lazy smile as he put the envelope away and stood to get his guitar case.

"Great, easy work, easy money, that's what I needed," he said resignedly as he slung the case over his shoulder. But before leaving, he stopped near the man. "One last thing," he said.

"Any questions?" the man asked.

"No, it's just that after this, I want you to get me more... interesting jobs, you know?" Tony said with a wide smile.

Kuroda stared at him for a moment and then nodded.

"We have a deal then", the young man said, walking toward the door.

"Oh, kid, wait, what's your name?", the middle-aged man (or at least Tony thought he was middle-aged) asked.

"You can call me Tony Redgrave", the boy in the red coat said, leaving without turning back.

Chapter Text

Warehouse number 34 sat at the end of a dark street, surrounded by abandoned buildings. The distant sounds of the city didn't reach here, and Tony knew that kind of silence usually meant trouble for most people, but for him, it at least meant he'd have a relatively peaceful job.

Throwing the now-empty beer bottle into the air, he read the message again:

"Mr. Tanaka is hiding in warehouse 34. He's been late for three months. If he tries to escape, break his legs. When you're done, find a way to call xxxx-xxxx."

"Oooh, that's scary", the young man laughed mockingly at the last part of the message. People who hired mercenaries always tried to sound so threatening; Tony found it hilarious.

But it was kind of pathetic to see his situation now.

He, a famous mercenary who instilled fear and dread in people like the Denvers, having to serve as a rent collector. Tony smiled amusedly, remembering Mad Dog's group. He'd already tried to kill him, what? Ninety-eight times? Tony couldn't wait to see what the former Olympic shooting champion had in store for him.

He looked forward to seeing it.

There was no security outside the warehouse, and there were scorch marks on the asphalt, a great sign, he thought. He kicked the steel door, which crashed against the inner wall with a loud bang.

Two henchmen reacted immediately. One had multiple arms with sharp claws—"looks like a spider", Tony thought. The other sported metallic skin that reflected the few rays of moonlight coming through the window. " Quirks that turn people into metal are either very common or this is a huge coincidence."

"Who are you? Identify yourself!", Spider-Man shouted.

The mercenary lifted the envelope and cleared his throat. "I'm just the mailman, here to pick up a package, you know how it is?"

The disfigured spider-man advanced first, throwing punches with his many arms. Tony dodged them all as if dancing, grabbed two of his arms, and spun the man like a beyblade against the day's number two metal guy. The two collided with such force that they were instantly knocked out.

"If this is what this world has to offer me, then I can't wait to get back to mine, because here I'll die of boredom", the frustrated albino thought.

But he should have known better than to think about such things at this point.

At the back of the warehouse, Genji Tanaka was hiding behind a sort of barrier made of tables and boxes. "How pathetic", Tony thought with a sigh. You'd think people in a world with superpowers would be at least a little braver, but so far, everything had indicated otherwise for the mercenary.

Upon seeing Tony, the man's eyes widened.

"Did K-kuroda s-send y-you?" Tanaka said, trembling.

"No, he sent your mother," the young man said, his patience already out of whack. "Obviously it was me, right? Go ahead and give me the money or I'll have to break your legs, and trust me, it won't hurt me any more than it will hurt you."

Tanaka opened a safe in the corner, tossing the bundles of bills onto the floor. Tony picked them up, counted them roughly, and stuffed them into his coat.

"If you'd just done this from the start, none of this would be necessary. I think this is a valuable lesson for you," he said, placing a hand on his hip, "or maybe not, I really don't care."

Then it happened.

A loud crash echoed outside, followed by a guttural roar that shook the windows.

"DANTEEEEE"

"DANTEEEEE"

"DANTEEEEE"

The atmosphere filled with the smell of sulfur and putrefaction in seconds.

Tony felt the air leave his lungs. "You're kidding me," he said more to himself than to anyone else.

Out of nowhere, the ceiling ripped open like paper, and three winged creatures fell into the middle of the warehouse. Twisted skin, sharp claws, glowing eyes. The silver-haired young man froze for a second.

"THE BLOOD OF THE TRAITOR"

"No no no no," Tony said in shock, "I didn't let you reach the rift! This world shouldn't have any of you!" He mentally slapped himself. He didn't check whether Sparda existed in this world or not, as he was overwhelmed by the idea of ​​being in such a different world.

Did his father… exist here? Tony should prepare himself for that possibility.

But it didn't make sense; this place seemed so much cleaner than his world. If demons were a regular here, he'd know it right away.

What's going on?

Tony let out an irritated growl.

The first demon charged, roaring. Tony punched it squarely in the chest, and the creature was knocked back with a violent jolt. He quickly opened the case he was carrying and pulled out his sword.

Rebellion.

His lifelong companion, he had had this sword for as long as he could remember, given to him by his father Sparda when he could barely walk.

Rebellion had a sister.

Just like Tony once had one.

But it wasn't time for that.

The second demon came from above, and the young man grabbed the ancient sword and charged with everything, eventually piercing the beast's skull and turning it to dust.

The first returned to action, and Tony, with a precise swing of his sword, severed his head in a clean cut.

The third, without a second thought, tried to dive from a greater height and catch the young man unnoticed, but the mercenary grabbed the vile creature by the neck, thrust his sword into its belly, and twisted. The demonic creature writhed and disappeared like smoke shortly thereafter.

The silence was devastating.

Tanaka was white as a ghost, unable to breathe properly. Tony was amazed the man was still awake. He glanced at the dissipating remains and turned to grab the case and put Rebellion away.

"Shit", he ran his hands through his silver hair, "this shouldn't be happening, none of this."

Before he could think any further, he heard sirens in the distance. The police were coming.

Tony took the money, gave Tanaka a cold look, and said, "If anyone asks, tell them it was some weird quirk. If you say anything more than that, I'll know, and you'll wish your legs were the only thing I'd break if that happened, okay?" The irony wasn't lost on him; now who was trying to sound threatening?

Tanaka just nodded and promptly passed out.

"Better this way, maybe he'll think it was a dream", Tony thought.

Tony left the warehouse before the police arrived, but one thing was clear in his mind: something was wrong.

Something involving him, because it obviously involves him, right?

———————————————————————————--

The street was nearly deserted. Only the muffled sound of sirens cut through the night air, growing louder by the second. Tony shoved his hands into his coat pockets, the weight of the money not nearly enough to distract him from what had just happened.

"Shit," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

He'd known from an early age that his presence attracted confusion. But he didn't know how to feel if the idea of ​​him bringing more confusion to a world that already seemed chaotic enough was true.

This world was strange, but as far as he knew, it was nothing like the hellish chaos he'd come from. Here, people solved everything with "quirks", heroes and villains made headlines, and the biggest threats seemed to be rubber-armed bank robbers or neighborhood pyromaniacs.

Tony looked up at the night sky. No hellgate, no trace of demonic energy. Those three had appeared out of nowhere, calling out to him, as if they knew exactly where he was. But this wasn't new, they always do.

"THE BLOOD OF THE TRAITOR," this memory made Tony retreat a bit. His father always came back to him. No matter the world.

He put it aside when he found a pay phone. The albino quickly dialed the number written on the letter.

On the second ring, Kuroda answered.

"It's done", Tony said dryly.

"Okay, kid, no problem, I guess?", the man asked through the line with an amused tone.

"Nothing major happened", the mercenary said, purposefully hiding the chaos that had occurred and was now disturbing him.

"Great then," Kuroda said with a snap, "you were quick, go back to the bar and I'll split your share."

"Okay then," Tony said with a sigh. "What a long night", the teenager thought bitterly.

The bar was a little tidier and emptier when Tony returned. The White Fang crew had left, and the counter no longer had a centerpiece shaped like a metal man on top. The smell of cheap alcohol was still strong, but the mercenary much preferred that to the smell of sulfur and decay seared into his memory.

As soon as he walked in, a few people turned to look, recognizing him from the earlier fight.

"Look, isn't that the most stylish debt collector around?" Kuroda said, waving at him, no longer at the bar, but at a table in the left corner of the bar.

"Still flattering", Tony thought with a tired smile and said, "Not a debt collector, man. 'Outsourced financial consultant.' The title is more appealing."

The middle-aged man laughed and motioned for him to sit at the table, which the mercenary in red promptly did.

"Mr. Redgrave", Kuroda said without raising his voice, "I assume Mr. Tanaka cooperated."

Tony tossed the bundles of bills from his coat onto the table.

"He cooperated after I knocked out his two extras. No drama, no resistance." The boy then decided to make a risky move, but he needed information. "Everything was normal, until the demons fell from the ceiling."

This made Kuroda look up at the ceiling. "Hero-like demons? Or a new group of villains?", he asked, sounding slightly dumbfounded.

"No, I mean like demons", Tony explained in the most casual tone possible. "You know? Wings, claws, glowing eyes… the whole package", he said as he ordered a beer.

This made Kuroda glare at him. The silence lasted for a few seconds until the man burst out laughing. "What are you talking about? I didn't think someone like you was the religious type, Redgrave", he said, counting out the ten bundles of cash and setting aside half for Tony.

"Either he's a skeptic like Enzo, or demons really aren't a thing here", that made him pause, "or they weren't until, well ."

Kuroda calmly sorted the money, but glanced at Tony out of the corner of his eye as if to confirm he was serious. When he realized the albino wasn't laughing, there was no sarcasm on his face, the slight smile at the corner of the boss's mouth disappeared.

"Wait a minute… you're not kidding", he said quietly.

Tony considered denying it, offering some kind of excuse, but he knew Kuroda was smart; no one survives in this world being stupid. Even if he denied it, the man in front of him would already know it was a lie, and he couldn't let his first job opportunity go to waste.

Tony made a risky move; it's time to see if it was worth it.

The bartender brought the beer and, sensing the tense atmosphere at the table, quickly left. The mercenary took the cheap drink and opened it, taking a sip too calmly.

"Man, if I'd been making it up, I'd have made it a much more entertaining plot, trust me," he said, then took another drink and leaned back in his chair. "But, alas, no. Three demons. Winged. Glowing eyes. Smelling of sulfur. They dropped from the ceiling and onto me."

Kuroda blinked slightly, trying to process the information. Tony didn't seem to be lying, and even if he was, what would he gain from it? What would the silver-haired boy gain by spouting off about demons and risking looking like a psychotic lunatic?

But at the same time, it didn't make sense.

Demons? If they were real, he would know.

"Redgrave," he began, but paused, trying to find the right words, "this is Japan. Here the media covers every hero's move, every villain's incident, every quirk's accident. If anything like what you're describing existed… the government would have sent half a dozen heroes to put an end to it. It would already be on the news. This doesn't exist."

Tony set his beer down and stared at him.

"I don't have a reason to make this up. Kuroda and besides", he said, tugging at the bottom of his coat. "If I'm lying or just crazy, then please explain to me why my coat is stained with something that definitely isn't human blood." The boy said, gesturing to the coat with the purple stains on the hem.

Kuroda frowned, eyeing the material carefully, as if expecting it to catch fire on its own.

"This can't be something? A quirk?" the other man pointed out, trying to grasp for a rational explanation.

Tony let out a frustrated sigh. "There's nothing quirk-like about it, believe me. The way they moved… the way they disappeared when I finished them. There was no body. They turned to dust", the boy said, making a small jazz sound with his mouth and hands.

One of the men at the pool table widened his eyes, exchanging glances with another. The bartender, who was mopping the floor, pretended not to be paying attention, but he hadn't cleaned the same spot in three minutes.

Kuroda leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. His tone grew more serious, colder.

"Are you trying to tell me there are biblical threats going around now?", he asked.

"Biblical? Whatever that means", Tony thought for a moment. "I'm saying three of them fell from the warehouse roof and tried to kill me", he countered without pause.

For a moment, no one said anything. The entire bar seemed to hear Tony's breathing and the sound of ice in Kuroda's glass.

Finally, the man let out a long, resigned sigh, as if accepting that he wouldn't understand anything that night.

Looking around, he finally said something, "Redgrave, whatever happened in warehouse 34, don't tell anyone about it." Lowering his tone, he continued, "Here, anything that seems out of the ordinary falls under the radar of the police and the heroes. And trust me: you don't want that kind of attention."

Tony was silent for a moment, picking up the bundles of cash and stuffing them into his red coat.

"Don't worry about it", he replied with a tired smile. "The last thing I want is more people involved in this", he added bitterly.

Kuroda thought for a moment, then pulled out a manila envelope and placed it in front of him.

"I have another job for you tomorrow", he said flatly, "simple. Just pick up a bundle and birng it. No confrontation. I'll look for more 'interesting' things, but that takes time."

"Do you have a cell phone?" the man added.

Tony then said without looking at him, "I don't, but I'd rather not. I'd rather meet you here tomorrow after the job is done."

"Okay, then it's up to you," the older man said neutrally.

Tony took the envelope but didn't look at it. His thoughts were elsewhere.

He downed the rest of his beer and headed for the door, but before leaving, he stopped near the bartender and asked, "Do you make strawberry sundaes?"

The man stopped sweeping the floor and looked at Tony curiously. After all, who orders a strawberry sundae at a bar? "No, but I can try later."

"That's what I like to hear, man", the young mercenary said, patting the other man on the back and finally turning to leave."

"If someone like Kuroda didn't know about the existence of demons then there's no way they existed here before, Enzo and Grue didn't believe in their existence, but from his defense I don't think that's the case", Tony thought as he walked back to the hotel. He ran a hand over his face in frustration.

He knew he couldn't run from this. Something opened that rift, and now demons are here in this place with him. Was attracting demons here the goal? Or just some kind of side effect? ​​Was he the side effect? ​​Or was the rift actually meant for him? Was someone trying to bring demons here?

So many questions and so few answers, but he knew one thing.

There must be more rifts if there were demons here.

Very well.

"Whoever made this mess is so screwed", he thought angrily.

Aizawa wasn't having a good day.

He could have been sleeping, but no, he had to be here interrogating a criminal underworld loser who refused to say anything other than that he was attacked by guys with weird Quirks because otherwise someone would finish him off.

"You don't understand!" the man yelled desperately. "He's going to-"

""Finish you off, you already said that", the black-haired man said with a frustrated sigh. "You're under the protection of heroes. I don't think you should worry so much about a random mercenary."

Honestly, Aizawa didn't understand the panic; the guy in front of him was more concerned about the random guy than the fact that he was now a criminal in custody.

"I'm not going to trust a crazy guy with a sword!"

A sword?

This made Aizawa pause. "Are you sure you haven't encountered a more obscure hero or a vigilante?"

The guy shook his head so strongly that Aizawa was afraid the man would break his neck. "Besides coming to collect on what I owed, he seemed too good at killing things to be a hero-", he suddenly covered his mouth with his hands.

The hero Eraserhead stopped and stared hard at the man.

"I've already said too much!" he said, bursting into tears.

Great, now, besides all the weird stuff, Aizawa would have to deal with a crazy killer who walked around with a sword? "What's the chance he's talking about Stain?" The hero knew it wasn't very high.

Great.

Really great, just what he needed with the U.A. Sports Festival drawing ever closer.

Aizawa wanted to sleep.

Chapter Text

Tony tossed his hotel room key on the dresser, placed his guitar case on the chair by the window, and flopped onto the rumpled bed, but soon felt restless.

He decided to take off his shirt and noticed that…it smelled. Obviously. He should have thought of that sooner.

It was too late for him to go out and buy a new shirt, but he would do it early in the morning before he even went to do the work Kuroda had assigned him that night.

He made a short mental list: new clothes, some toiletries, finding somewhere to wash his clothes, and two .45-caliber firearms, because his had broken again before he arrived in this world.

The old lady would ground him if she knew he was looking to buy weapons somewhere other than her shop, but it wasn't like he had a choice. He'd apologize to her later.

He would apologize to her later.

He repeated this statement to himself a few more times.

He closed his eyes, trying to sleep, but the smell of sulfur remained in his memory. And on his clothes. And on his body.

He got up and went to take a shower.

Stepping into the shower, he quickly turned it on to the coldest temperature possible. He closed his eyes. "This world is a zoo of people with superpowers, but so far I haven't seen a soul that smells like a demon", he thought, feeling the water run over his body. "So where the hell did you guys come from?" He whispered softly, more to himself than to anyone in particular.

Picking up the soap from the small recess in the shower, all he could think about was the guttural voice that haunted him, "DANTEEE", always like that.

There was no way it could be a coincidence or an accident, all of it. Tony was unlucky, for sure, but this was too much. It made the boy tighten the amulet around his neck a little.

Getting out of the shower, he quickly grabbed a clean towel and tied it around himself. Looking at the bed, he realized he would have to put his dirty clothes back on.

He really needed to buy clothes.

After putting on his clothes and arranging the amulet, he looked at the case where Rebellion was kept.

"Okay, girl, we're going out tomorrow, what do you think?" he asked, as if the sword could answer. But don't judge him; he's been doing this since he was a kid.

He had a plan, that's what the young man told himself.

But deep down, he knew he had no plan at all.

Meanwhile, at the police station, Aizawa stared at the report on the "warehouse 34 case" with a cold cup of coffee in his hand.

"This is getting more and more stupid", the weary-looking man said as he flipped through the pages.

After some time and a few threats, they finally managed to get Tanaka to come clean.

"Supposed non-humanoid creatures", the first thing that came to mind was the creature that appeared in the attack on class 1A a few weeks ago. They even showed a photo to the man who now slept in his own cell, but he said it wasn't that.

"Instant disappearance of bodies", that made Eraserhead freeze. That's why they found no trace or any clue as to what happened in the warehouse; the bodies disappeared. That was a problem. What kind of quirk made bodies disappear?

"Unusual odor at the scene", that at least persisted at the site of the "incident" when they got there. It was nauseating.

"A guy with silver hair and a giant sword who killed the things", and to make matters worse, besides the creatures, there was someone else involved, but at least he didn't seem to be on the creatures' side.

Aizawa was familiar with villain patterns and unique quirks (especially now that he'd become a teacher). He knew them all very well. But none of this fit with anything Aizawa knew.

The pro hero could say with certainty that he'd never encountered anything like this before, and that was bad.

A veteran hero, a man named Kanda with a quirk focused on crime scene recognition, had conducted the initial analysis of the scene, and his description of the smell and texture of the debris found made Aizawa frown even deeper.

"It looked… burned. But not like burnt flesh. Something different."

The tired hero slammed the file shut.

"Something tells me we're not dealing with a problematic quirk", he muttered.

One of the department assistants looked at him in confusion. "What did you say, Mr. Eraserhead?"

"Nothing," he said, leaning back in his chair. "Continue your work."

The day dawned, and Tony got out of bed earlier than he'd like, but he had things to do.

Even so, he'd never understand why some people like to wake up early; there's no point in trying to convince him; it's not something he'll accept as long as he lives.

Tony left the hotel with the guitar case where he kept Rebellion and breathed in deeply, smelling the scent of people. And not the sulfur that had permeated his brain after what happened in warehouse 34.

First item on the list: clothes.

He didn't need anything fancy, just something that wouldn't let him down when he needed to fight, and that was red, of course, but he'd also accept black.

After getting a bit lost in the streets of Shibuya and having to use the dictionary stolen from the library to ask for directions, he finally arrived at a mall. A huge, crowded mall. Tony wasn't a big fan of crowds, so he decided he'd buy what he needed quickly.

But before stopping at a clothing store, he went to an electronics store. On one of the computers on display, he opened the browser and searched for what he'd been dreading.

"Sparda"

He didn't realize he'd been holding his breath until he saw that none of the results were a huge demon.

"The demons really are from my home", Tony already knew that, but it was good (or bad in this case) to have it completely confirmed.

Leaving the store as quickly as he'd entered after closing the search tab, he began browsing the stores, quickly assessing the items.

Finally, he entered one and picked up a few t-shirts (all always a shade of red), some pants that looked moderately sturdy, some underwear, and a black hoodie that looked comfortable for sleeping. He paid for everything using the money from his last mission, cash as always.

It was easier that way.

After leaving the store, he went looking for a shop that sold basic hygiene products. As he walked, he noticed a few people staring at him, but he was used to it.

Tony had always attracted attention in his life, not just demonic, but human as well. He could understand why though, the young man was aware that he was extremely attractive and different because of his longer white hair and blue eyes.

It was something he was used to. He ignored it and walked away.

Finally, after finding a store that looked promising, he grabbed soap, shampoo, a toothbrush, toothpaste, and deodorant. Many people might say Tony Regrave smelled, but that wasn't true!

He took regular showers!

It wasn't his fault he regularly got covered in human blood or demon guts. Those things stunk.

But it didn't change the fact that he showered every day!

As he walked through the mall's floors, the albino noticed something that made his heart race: a large TV screen showing images of destruction, smoke rising from distant buildings, and reports of attacks reminiscent of the chaos at warehouse 34.

The news anchor (who had antennas) specifically said that no trace of the guilty "villain" had been found. So it had to be what Tony thought.

"Hmm, so it wasn't an isolated incident", he thought, hand in his hair.

Trying to distract himself, the teenager decided to take another stroll around the mall.

Until he saw it.

An ice cream shop.

Tony walked faster than he cared to admit toward the counter, which startled the girl behind it. "Sorry! I just need to know something urgent!" He looked anxiously at the woman, who responded with a worried look, "Yes, how can I help you, sir?"

"Do you serve strawberry sundaes?"

The woman blinked a few times, confused, but quickly smiled.

"Yes, sir. We have strawberry sundaes. Do you want them with whipped cream or without?", she said, relieved. Looking closer, she could clearly see that what she thought was a tall, worried man was nothing more than a teenager with baby fat still on his cheeks.

"With whipped cream and lots of strawberries, and don't be cheap with it, you know?" he said with a genuinely happy smile.

Tony then sat at a table on the far left side of the retro store. It was a pleasant atmosphere.

When the waitress placed the sundae in front of him, Tony quickly grabbed the spoon and almost inhaled the ice cream. The sweet, cold taste contrasted sharply with the memory of the sulfur in the warehouse. For a few seconds, he almost forgot everything. Almost.

Back at the hotel, he finally managed to change his clothes and put on some deodorant. He'd left most of his things in the bags; it was more practical that way.

He still needed to find a place to wash his clothes, but for now, it was best not to draw too much attention; he could see about that tomorrow. Now he'd wait until nightfall to go to the work he had to do.

The city outside still shone, bustling and bustling, but at the same time very organized and controlled. A world like this wouldn't know how to handle the definition of demons; they already had their own "villains," but Tony knew the two were very different. A human, no matter how bad, was still a human; demons weren't.

This world was accustomed to dealing with human threats, many of them, it seemed. But something completely inhuman? It would upset the already extremely delicate balance of this place.

It wouldn't be pretty.

"If they showed up and they're going to show up again", he thought, "if anyone here finds out, it's going to be a mess. If these people with tight colants and sense of justice find out there are interdimensional monsters on the loose… it won't be long before they come after me too."

Tony picked up the envelope for the next job. He opened it slowly. Just a package to collect, no confrontation.

He chuckled to himself.

"Simple, I can't stand 'simple' things anymore," he said, looking at the paper with offense.

In the U.A. teachers' lounge, Aizawa leaned his head against the desk, seemingly asleep, but with a pen between his fingers.

All Might entered the room with his usual exaggerated energy. "GOOD MORNING, EVERYONE!" He said to no one in particular. The black-haired hero groaned at the noise.

"Eraserhead! Asleep again?" The blond said, lightly slapping the other hero on the back. "The sports festival is coming, we don't have time to relax!"

Aizawa opened one eye, staring at him with that usual dead look.

"All Might, have you ever heard of creatures that disintegrate when they die? Bloodless, bodyless, nothing but dust?" he asked, still thinking about the investigation into the warehouse 34 case.

The symbol of peace became serious for a moment. It wasn't common to see him like that. After a few moments, he said, "That doesn't sound like a quirk. Who told you that?"

"It doesn't matter who", the hero said wearily, laying his head on the table, "just tell me If there hasn't been anything like that recorded in the last fifty years. If anyone knows, it's you."

All Might hesitated. He glanced to the side to make sure no one else was listening.

"There isn't", he said in a serious tone uncharacteristic of the symbol of peace.

"I figured", Aizawa said, closing his eyes.

Just before leaving for work, Tony decided to walk around the neighborhood and try to find a place that sold guns. It turns out that finding guns in Japan was apparently much more difficult than in Red Grave. Which makes sense, since the teenager's hometown was a den of unsavory things.

He spent hours wandering around trying to find a store that looked promising.

Seeing that his work deadline was getting closer, he decided to give up looking for a gun for sale.

Kuroda would probably know where he could find guns, so he decided to ask the man after he finished work.

Midnight.

Tony leaned against the damp wall of the narrow alley, fiddling with the silver chain amulet around his neck as he discreetly observed the activity. Kuroda's letter had the address of an old building on the edge of Shibuya.

Two cameras above the entrance swiveled in opposite directions, and a large man in a suit and sunglasses stood out front. No sign, nothing to indicate anything other than a seemingly normal building. But the mercenary knew this was the place.

"What a boring job", Tony huffed, "I can't do this kind of thing anymore."

The albino mercenary usually had three conditions for accepting a job:

First, it had to be interesting;

Second, no unnecessary massacre;

Third, he had to have a certain feeling regarding the job. It was hard to explain, but something deep inside him had to tell him it was worth it.

This job and the last one he'd done only met one of those conditions, and it was frustrating Tony. He knew he couldn't ask for much right now, but he did it anyway.

Finally deciding to approach, the silver-haired teenager, almost white, adjusted the guitar case on his shoulder and headed toward the building. When he got close enough to the entrance, the man in the suit stopped him. "Permission?"

"Kuroda didn't say anything about that, really, Enzo from the alternate universe." Unsure of what to show, he picked up the envelope with the job descriptions and handed it to the man.

The man took the paper and then lifted his glasses, his eyes glowing blue, making Tony widen. "Is he checking the paper with his Quirk?!" That was pretty useful for a security guard, he had to admit.

"You can go through", the man said, pulling the teenager out of his thoughts. He nodded and entered the building.

The building smelled faintly of dust and carpet, but otherwise was fairly well-maintained. The hall leading to the elevator was quiet, and the elevator was, well, an elevator. One thing Tony noticed in this world was that while technically he was in the future, technology wasn't as advanced as it was in his own world. Yes, there were things that were very different, like cell phones, but cars looked the same. "Almost 200 years in the future and still no flying cars, hmm", the teenager mused as the elevator took him to the third floor.

Heading to apartment 304, the door was unlocked. When he opened it, he expected a surprise, but no. There was only a box on the coffee table in the living room. "Maybe I really am becoming a mailman", Tony thought with a frustrated sigh.

The teenager took the box and checked the number printed on it and left while complaining.

The bar remained unchanged since Tony had been there the day before, but the moment he sat at the bar to wait for Kuroda, instead of a cheap beer being placed in front of him, something else appeared.

A strawberry sundae.

The teenager's eyes widened as he watched the bartender, who was pointing a spoon at Tony with an anxious look.

The boy quickly took the spoon and ate the dessert, then let out a satisfied sigh. "Man, this is really good", he said with a slight smile.

The bartender's shoulders relaxed considerably at the compliment, which made the mercenary chuckle a little. "Redgrave! I guess you already opened the proceedings with", Kuroda paused, "strawberry ice cream?" he asked, confused, sitting down next to the young man.

"It's a strawberry sundae, much more sophisticated", the boy replied, taking another spoonful of the dessert, the corners of his mouth dirty.

"Since when do you make desserts, Yuki?" Kuroda asked in wonder. The bartender just shrugged. "No one's ever ordered one before", he said, grabbing a cloth and leaving to wipe down the tables.

"So, how was it?" the short man asked as he picked up the package. "And before you ask, I don't know what's in here", he said, passing a handful of money to Tony.

"It was nothing, and I wasn't going to ask. I don't care", the boy said with a mouthful of ice cream as he took the money and put it in his coat.

"Kuroda, I can't take any more boring things." He paused to spoon another spoonful of whipped cream into his mouth. "Please don't make me be a mailman again."

"I'll write that down, trust me, kid. But you can't just come in out of nowhere wanting the big fish, you know," he said, patting the albino on the shoulder, who sighed.

"Kuroda, do you have a quirk?" Tony asked as he cleaned the bottom of the ice cream cup. The question caught Kuroda off guard, but he smiled and nodded at the boy. It was obvious the boy was going to ask at some point, the curiosity of the youth.

"Yes, I do. Do you want to know what it is?" the man asked with an amused smile.

"If I didn't want to know, I wouldn't have asked", the teenager replied, turning to face the man.

"You should work on that attitude of yours," he said in a dissatisfied tone, "Anyway, it's called 'Ocular Value'." Pointing two fingers to his eyes, he continued, "I can tell how much something is worth just by looking at it."

The young man's eyes widened, which impressed Kuroda a little. His Quirk was extremely useful in his line of work, but it wasn't a big deal. Nothing that had opened doors for him when he was Tony's age. "I wonder how old that kid is."

"Wait! So you know how much?" He paused and looked around, finally deciding to pick up the ice cream cup. He continued, "This is worth?"

Without a pause, the man replied, "432 yen." Tony's mouth dropped open at the information and began to laugh, "That must be awful in fancy restaurants."

"Why do you think I come here, kid?" he said, winking at the teenager, who laughed a little more before becoming serious.

"There's something else I wanted to know", the young man said in a more sober tone. "Where can I guy get some guns around here?"

And at that moment, the illusion of a curious boy in Kuroda's vision was completely shattered, reminding him that he was talking to a highly trained mercenary who had humiliated the White Fang. Kuroda stopped to stare at the young man.

"Are you crazy, Redgrave?" he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "This is Japan, kid. Not even most licensed heroes are allowed to own weapons. The Hero Commission controls everything with an iron fist."

"I sense a 'however' coming", Tony said with a smirk.

"However, you can get them", the man said, looking around. "There are some people, former military personnel, who sell them, but it'll cost you money and it's risky. They usually supply lesser-known villains or smaller gangs."

"It'll work for me", the young man said, cracking his neck. "Where can I find them?

The Japanese man let out a harsh, dry laugh. "Easy there, cowboy. First, you need to prove you're not a Commission agent. Then, you'll have to pay dearly."

"Yeah, I figured, no problem", Tony said, remembering that he still had the dollars from his last job in his world and that for some reason they work perfectly in this universe. "At least I had some luck."

"I don't doubt it." Kuroda opened his jacket and took out a cigar, which made Tony's nose wrinkle and he looked disapprovingly at the older man, who shrugged and lit the cigar. "The place you're going to have to go is Sumida, a small, unattractive place that they call the 'Blind Market' these days."

"What a bad name", the boy thought, grimacing. He had a bad feeling.

The Japanese man continued, "The hero patrols are hitting all over the place because of the attack on that gang at U.A." He said, puffing smoke forward.

The mercenary smiled at that. "Great, finally a challenge in this place."

"Redgrave", Kuroda said seriously, "if they catch you with illegal weapons, you won't just go to jail. You'll be handed over to the Commission, and those guys won't be nice to you."

"I can imagine, don't worry about it", he said as he adjusted the amulet around his neck.

Chapter Text

The mist and the cold, dry night wind helped set the tone for what Tony Redgrave was about to do in Sumida. The young man walked with his guitar case slung over his shoulder and his hands in his pockets. He didn't look worried, but at the same time, he was trying to be discreet.

However, it was difficult for the boy to be discreet when he had white hair, blue eyes, and a face that drew attention from afar.

The blind market was hidden behind a noisy nightclub filled with neon signs. As he walked past, Tony thought he was definitely too young to go there, not that that had ever stopped him from doing anything before. Passing through the alley next to the establishment, he found a brown door with a small door. When he knocked, a man opened the door.

"What's the password?" a deep voice asked.

"Plus Ultra", the mercenary replied, trying to hide his smile. From what Kuroda had explained, this was the motto of a "hero school" (the existence of a school for heroes made Tony burst out laughing, the kind of thing he'd see on a low-budget TV show) and was used by the "blind market" crowd to allay suspicion.

The man then opened the door that led to a set of stairs. After descending them, he stopped in a room filled with a cigarette smell that made Tony's nose itch. The place was full of people, everyone speaking in low voices, and the air had a bitter taste.

The teenager looked around a few more times and concluded that the clientele was indeed made up of low-level villains, some mafia members, and even some random guys, probably pawns paid to do commissions. Tony let out an irritated sigh; he hated giving money to these losers.

The criminal underworld wasn't something the young man relished. Yes, he was a mercenary, but he had principles. Principles that most of the bosses in Red Grave didn't appreciate, so they tried everything to bribe him, but it never worked. It wasn't about money.

Many, after their attempts to buy his loyalty, tried to kill him, but the fact that he's here today indicates that none of them worked. And right after that, well.

Let's just say that Red Grave saw a huge drop in the number of active gangs and cartels; after all, Tony wasn't the type to take insults in silence.

So the fact that he was here now having to buy weapons from the same kind of people he refused to work with most of the time and who wanted his head hundreds of times in his world left a bitter taste in his mouth. The fact that he was in a different dimension didn't change that.

Swallowing the bile rising in his throat, the white-haired young man walked over to the table where a relatively tall man with hair as white as his own, though looking at his face, which was lined with age, and a cigarette in his mouth, sat. On the table was a large collection of weapons, refills, silencers, and even a shotgun.

"Two pistols, caliber .45, nothing too flashy', Tony said in a cold tone.

The man raised his tired eyes and, with a frown, assessed the teenager up and down. "Foreigner?"

"Tourist", the mercenary replied without hesitation, "and I don't like fireworks. I just want something that works when I need it", something he wouldn't use very often either, after all, Methuselah wasn't here to fix them when the guns inevitably broke.

The seller smirked.

"Forty thousand yen each. Cash."

Tony sighed again; he'd been sighing a lot these past few days. He pulled the the from his coat and tossed them on the table.

After counting the money, the man promptly handed him the two guns. They were no different from the ones he used at home. "Thank goodness", the albino thought as he put them away in his case with the Rebellion. He didn't usually do this, but it was better not to attract attention. The man pointed to the magazines, and Tony just shook his head.

He was about to turn to leave when a shout echoed from upstairs:

"Hero Commission raid."

"Are you kidding me?"

Chaos ensued. Crates of contraband fell, people ran in all directions. The mercenary looked back to see the reaction of the man who sold him the weapons, but he had already disappeared. "Maybe it was his quirk?"

A shadow descended the stairs, and suddenly, red feathers hovered in the air, making everyone in the room stop what they were doing. Tony recognized the man's power and face from the research he'd done the day he arrived.

Hawks.

One of Japan's most popular heroes, a relaxed smile on his face, walked over and stopped in the middle of the room. Soon, other agents also filled the room.

"Look what we have here", the pro hero said, crossing his arms in a tone of mock disapproval, "a bunch of misbehaving civilians with forbidden toys."

The villains began pulling out makeshift weapons, but Tony knew it was a premature declaration of doom after watching the videos he'd seen of the hero, so instead he just sat at the table behind him and waited for it to be over. The mercenary wasn't going to lift a finger to help those people; it's not like he liked them more than the "heroes" anyway.

Hawks's feathers were already moving on their own seconds later, disarming the first idiots before they could even pull the trigger. This made the young man chuckle a little, which caught the hero's attention.

When the hero noticed him, a flash of something passed through his eyes for a few seconds, unnoticeable to most people, but not to Tony. "That's not a good sign."

When Hawks inevitably approached him, the mercenary gave a relaxed smile and improvised, "Relax, boss. I came to this address thinking it was a music store", he said, pointing to the guitar case and hoping the hero wouldn't ask to see what was inside ,"but it wasn't, I think they misled me." He said in a forced, innocent tone.

The teen knew this wouldn't work, but he had to try. If he had to, he would just knock the hero unconscious and get out of there, but better to avoid an unnecessary show.

Hawks looked at him with an unreadable expression.

"Music?" he tilted his head and scratched his chin. "You're young", he said, not as a question, but as a statement. "Well, kid, I hope your music isn't too loud. The neighbors might complain, you know? And if that happens, I'll have to talk to your parents", he said, gesturing for him to leave.

The young man gave a genuine laugh at the comment about his parents, but it didn't make sense. He knew the hero had seen through his blatant lie, so why let him go? Instead of relief, Tony felt a certain apprehension as he left what had once been the blind market.

After walking down the street for a while, the dry night air changed, bringing with it an unfortunately familiar scent. Sulfur.

"Great, I've got a famous hero on my tail, and now this? Just what I needed", he said, running a hand over his face.

He began walking faster toward where the smell was strongest. After all, even with the possibility of being followed, he still had to deal with the demons. Either he went to them or they came to him; there was no middle ground.

On top of a building in Sumida, Hawks was on a call, looking over the report papers on today's operation. However, that wasn't what his call was about. "It is him Eraserhead, white hair, blue eyes, very tall, a bit of a bad boy vibe, but I didn't see any swords", he said, pausing. "But he's not an adult like the guy that was in the warehouse number 34 said. I'd say he's the same age as your students, he's just very tall."

After the worrying information that emerged from the man's testimony about the Warehouse 34 case, the Hero Commission had Aizawa pass the case information on to other pro heroes. Hawks was one of them.

This drew a sigh from the man on the other end of the line. "A teenager? Are you sure?" he asked seriously.

"Absolutely", the winged hero replied. "That also surprised me negatively. He's not from here either. He has an accent I can't quite place where is from, but he's definitely not Japanese."

Aizawa felt the world tilt a bit. What was a foreign teenager doing fighting monsters they didn't even know what they were and going to arms smuggling joints?

The teacher didn't know, but the winged hero was wondering the same thing.

"So what did you do with him then?" the black-haired hero asked, already going to Sumida; he wasn't far away.

Hawks scratched his head. "I thought about taking him into custody, but his age caught me off guard. I was prepared to deal with an adult." Placing his hand on his chin, he continued, "So I let him go, but I'm following him. Relax." He said, looking at a tiny white dot on the ground. Its birdlike appearance made his vision impressive.

"But the kid's good," the hero continued. "He realized the moment I let him go that something was wrong", he said, genuinely impressed.

"Where is he going now? Send me the location", the man at the other sid of the line nasked as he walked.

"I don't know?" The blond hero paused. "He seems to be looking for something, but he might be trying to throw me off."

The smell of sulfur grew stronger and stronger, permeating the air like a virus. Tony hurried through the streets of Sumida, Rebellion tucked away in his guitar case and one hand on the amulet around his neck.

The young man stopped at an empty intersection and closed his eyes for a moment, trying to filter out the sounds of the city. The distant honking, the hurried footsteps, the engine of a motorcycle passing by. Beneath it all, he could hear a low rumble calling, "danteeeeeeeee."

He clicked his tongue. "You guys can't live without me, admit it", he said, opening his eyes and giving a relaxed smile.

Permitting to a landing on a nearby building, Hawks watched the boy's every step, his wings high around him. "Eraserhead, he stopped. I think he's going to do something", he said in a more serious tone.

"Don't take your eyes off him, I'm almost there," the hero replied dryly.

Tony started walking again, but slower this time, following the scent to a dimly lit alley. The ground was damp and covered in torn garbage bags, and the dumpster was completely overturned. The boy crouched down, touched the concrete with the tips of his gloves, and brought them back to his nose. "Yup, it's here."

A crack echoed ahead, and then something fell from the window of the building to the left, landing with enough force to crack the asphalt. The mercenary opened his guitar case and pulled out his sword as he stared at the creature. It was large and looked like a xenomorph from the movie "Alien."

"DANTEEEE"

"Yeah, I know, I know", he said, making a quick movement with his sword and quickly severing the demon's head.

"I know it's not just one, so you can stop trying to catch me off guard. You're predictable", he said, turning to the three shadows behind him. Tony spun Rebellion around, the blade reflecting the dim moonlight in the alley. "Now, try not to die so quickly, okay? I've been waiting for something interesting for a while now."

From the top of the building, Hawks's eyes widened.

"Oh wow", he said, genuinely impressed by the boy's speed, "I found the sword, Eraserhead."

"What? What happened?"

"We have a problem", the winged hero replied, "a big problem."

Before he could say anything else, one of the creatures soared directly toward Tony. He spun, bringing the sword up, and slashed at the creature, cutting it in half, the halves of its body turning to dust before it even touched the ground

Hawks finally launched himself into the air, gliding near the alley, scattering feathers like living sensors.

"Hey kid!" he shouted, "those things don't look like people, what are they?"

Tony dodged a claw strike and fired at another creature's head without even looking. Ignoring the hero's question, he said, "I knew you weren't fooled, but I didn't think you'd blow your cover so soon", the young albino said sarcastically.

Hawks decided to ignore the teenager's comment.

Another creature appeared behind Tony and tried to attack, but he spun his body and, using the wall as impulse, piercing the demon with a quick, precise cut. The body dissolved, leaving only the strong smell of sulfur in the air.

"They're definitely not human", the winged hero said, finally landing on the alley's ground with a soft flap of his wings, "and I've never seen anything like this, not even in my worst missions or in the Commission's worst reports."

The young man in the red trench coat drew the enormous sword he carried and thrust the tip into the ground, looking at the blond hero with a bored expression. "Yeah, but lucky you, chicken wings. These things aren't your problem. They're not villains, as you can see, or kittens in trees, so your services aren't needed."

The hero narrowed his eyes at that, crossing his arms. "My 'services' aren't necessary, are they? Oh, but they are when there's trouble in my country and my jurisdiction, attacking civilians under my protection."

"Okay, that was a good argument", Tony couldn't help but think. "Look, man, I get it, but they really are not your problem. If they were, you'd already have a manual on how to kill those things, fried chicken. But look, that doesn't exist." The teenager replied with a neutral expression.

The red-winged hero raised an eyebrow. "You're speaking with a lot of confidence for someone I could arrest for illegal weapons possession", he said with a smug smile.

The mercenary laughed at the statement, and when his fit of laughter finally subsided, he gave a mocking grin. "You can try."

Before the blond hero could retort, three more creatures emerged from the shadows, these larger, with black, knife-sharp claws and a loud roar that vibrated the air around them.

Tony pulled his sword from the ground and sneered. "Yeah, I knew more would come." He said this more to himself than to the man beside him.

Hawks released two larger feathers and caught them with both hands, using them as double swords. He launched himself into the air, dodging an attack from one of the creatures. "You're still going to tell me what the hell those things are!"

As the young man worried about cutting off one of the demons' claws, he considered denying it, but after dodging a blow, he thought about what the hero had said. "Ah, but they are when there's trouble in my country and my jurisdiction, attacking civilians under my protection." It was true; he remembered the news he'd seen while shopping yesterday.

If the demons were just making his life difficult, that would be one thing, but they're spreading fast, and these people in this world don't know what they're dealing with. Knowing about the demons could tear this place apart, but making them fight things they don't understand wouldn't help either.

The albino sighed and made a decision he hoped he wouldn't regret.

"Demons", he replied, cutting off the larger demon's head in one swift stroke, "literally. Born in hell, only seeking to cause more pain, suffering, nightmares, destruction, and all that lovely vibe."

The hero waited for laughter and mockery.

None of it came.

Chapter Text

"Demons," he replied, cutting off the larger demon's head in one swift stroke, "literally. Born in hell, only seeking to cause more pain, suffering, nightmares, destruction, and all that lovely vibe."

The hero waited for laughter and mockery.

None came.

"Demons," Hawks repeated, as if it were a bad joke, and it could only be a bad joke. To say he wasn't convinced was an exaggeration, but the serious expression of the young man who had been mocking him less than five minutes ago caught him off guard. And the winged hero thought, "why would he tell a lie like that now?"

"Demons, let's say I believe that, which I don't," he said, looking at the young man as he dodged several arrows with impressive speed, "why do you seem to know how to handle them so well?"

"You learn a thing or two when they're all over you," he replied, hurling his sword at the last demon's chest and hitting it squarely. The monster let out a groan before disappearing.

The young man walked over to his sword and drew it again. "Don't let your guard down, I don't think that's all it will be. They only get this brave in large numbers."

The boy spoke about it as if it were something he'd been dealing with for a long time, which made it much harder for Hawks to dismiss it as a desperate joke or an attempt at deception. Before he could say anything, a black-haired figure jumped onto the scene from the roof.

"Eraserhead," the winged hero said.

"A friend of yours?" Tony asked. "Great, that's what I needed, more of them."

"A colleague," the black-haired man replied without pausing, looking the mercenary up and down. It was hard to see in the moonlight, but he really was a teenager. The realization made him sigh.

"You look good for a funeral," the young man said, looking at Eraserhead with his pale blue eyes.

Aizawa decided to ignore the comment and move on to the main topic of the evening: "demons?" he asked in a tone that didn't accept, but didn't dismiss the idea either.

As if the weary hero had summoned them, the manhole exploded on the street in front, and several, definetly not human creatures emerged.

"DANTEEEEE" they screamed.

Aizawa and Hawks didn't say anything right away. The winged hero wielded his feathers like swords, and the bandaged hero activated his quirk and immediately noticed something that made him freeze.

His quirk didn't work on the creatures.

Hawks noticed this and promptly let out a disbelieving laugh, "don't mess with me."

"What? Was that fish-like stare supposed to do something?" Tony asked, genuinely curious. "Maybe he shoots lasers from his eyes, that would be kinda cool."

"It was supposed to cancel the qui-" Upon hearing this, the mercenary raised his hand, silencing him. "Look, man, I already explained, they're demons. They have no quirks, no DNA, and no medical records. Just flesh, bones, and a really bad breath."

He finished by drawing one of his pistols and firing at the demon running toward him. This caught the two heroes off guard; it looked like a semi-machine gun, but it was a regular pistol.

The shots slowed some of the demons, so Tony drew Rebellion and charged at the horde. Hawks and Eraserhead weren't far behind.

The winged hero launched several feathers at the creatures and launched himself at one, cutting off its arms with incredible speed. "Not bad fried chicken," he heard from behind the demon, who suddenly had no head.

Meanwhile, the hero Eraserhead was immobilizing a demon with his special bandages. "Send it here!" he heard an overly excited voice demand. He ignored it and launched himself at the albino boy, who jumped on the head of another demon and split the flying one in half.

"Fighting demons with other people is… different," he thought for a second.

Hawks then broke the atmosphere by slicing open the neck of another smaller one. "You seem in your natural habitat, kid. You know too much about all this," Hawks said suspiciously.

Tony sighed at that. "I know enough to know that if you don't stay out of my way, someone's going to end up dead," the teenager said as he threw himself at another demon. "And spoiler alert: it won't be me."

Aizawa watched the boy as he fought. He was undoubtedly skilled, possessing superhuman strength, reflexes, and speed. But he was reckless; he threw himself into danger headfirst and with a confidence most professional heroes lacked. Much less villains. Not only was he reckless, he was energetic, violent, and brutal. As the talkative teenager ripped the monster to pieces as if it were nothing, the hero couldn't help but wonder what his life had been like up until that moment.

A deep roar echoed through the deserted street, so loud that the windows of the surrounding buildings shook.

Tony closed his eyes and took a deep breath, feeling the sulfur smell thicken. A slow smile spread across his face.

"There he is, the boss."

Across the street, the asphalt cracked and something immense began to emerge. A four-meter-tall demon with two pairs of arms and a body covered in a grotesque mixture of horns and bones rose as if it had come straight from hell, and perhaps it had. Its eyes glowed a pulsating red, and each step made the ground vibrate.

"DANTEEEEE"

Eraserhead flinched slightly, his bandages coiling like a viper. Hawks had already thrown several feathers into the air, preparing an attack.

Tony? He just smiled.

"Finally, something worthwhile."

The winged hero, snorted in disbelief. "You have serious problems."

"It's called talent, man. I know you wish you had it, but I can't give you mine." The young man replied with an amused smile as he took off running toward the giant demon.

Hawks just looked at Aizawa, who said nothing, but his eyes said it all: this just got a lot more complicated.

"Okay, ugly face, let's dance," the teenager said. The demon advanced with absurd speed for its size, four arms trying to crush Tony like a bug. The boy dodged the first blow with a sidestep and used the wall beside him as momentum, spinning his body in the air before plunging the blade into the creature's shoulder. A deep cut opened, releasing a jet of purple liquid that instantly dissipated in the night wind.

Hawks let out a low whistle, landing next to the black-haired hero. "Okay, he doesn't fight like a kid his age."

"You just noticed that now?" the other replied without venom, but looking at the fight scene before him with a worried look. "He doesn't fight like a hero either." "He fights like a survivor," he didn't say that part aloud.

Tony swung his sword, letting it ricochet against one of the demon's claws, and stepped back just enough space for another blow. At the same moment, one of the creature's arms came down like a sledgehammer, shattering part of the ground where he had been seconds before.

"You guys don't know how to play, do you?" the teenager grumbled as he threw himself to the side, drawing one of his new pistols. Two shots echoed through the dark street; one straight into the creature's eyes, the other in the jaw. Not meant to hurt, but to distract.

The demon screamed, lifting its face to the sky. That's when the mercenary seized the opening: he ran straight ahead, quickening each step, and, with a push from the nearby streetlight, leaped into the air, spinning his entire body before slamming Rebellion hard into the creature's chest. A sharp thud echoed, and instantly, black fissures began to spread across the demon's body, like cracks in glass.

"Time to go back to the rot you came from, big guy."

With a desperate groan, the demon's body began to disappear into thousands of fragments until it turned to dust.

Hawks flapped his wings and descended into the street, landing beside Tony. The boy twirled the massive sword he carried like a pipe, placing it back in his guitar case with a sigh.

"Not a scratch," he said, as if bored.

"That was impressive, kid," said the winged hero, who was being escorted by the weary-looking hero. He wore his usual smile, but his golden eyes were much more serious than before. "But now we're going to have a little talk, because this," he pointed to where the demon's body should have been, but only smoke remained, "...doesn't exist in my reports, nor in the Commission's database. It's not a Nomu, it's not a villain with a strange quirk, it's nothing we know about. 'Demons.' Next time you'll tell me there are angels, dragons, and unicorns out there too, right?"

This earned a disapproving look from Eraserhead, who thought, "That's no way to deal with teenage, genius."

"I already told you what it is," the teenager said, looking at the pair of heroes with a frustrated expression. "If you don't believe me, it's not my fault. I did my part. In fact, I did more than I normally would." He looked genuinely hurt, and this made the winged hero rethink what he was going to say next.

Tony regretted talking about the demons; now these two guys he'd never met in his life think he's crazy even after everything they've seen. The teenager hated to admit it, but it hurt a little, but nothing he wasn't used to.

The mercenary took a deep breath, running his hand over his face as he put the case back in his shoulders. The silence of the street still carried the smell of sulfur, but now it was tempered by the tension emanating from the two heroes. Both were watching him closely, clearly processing the boy's small emotional outburst.

"Look, I don't need any of this, okay? I tried to help, now you're on your own," he said, turning in the opposite direction and preparing to leave when a hand landed on his shoulder. Turning his head, he saw the man with long black hair standing there. Before he could say anything, the man cut him off, "I believe you."

This made the teenager's eyes widen, and Aizawa continued. "After everything I've seen today and everything you've done, I'd be crazy not to believe you."

That moment was one of the first times Tony Redgrave was at a loss for words. What was he supposed to say? Thank you for not thinking I'm crazy? Should he say something?

The young man blinked rapidly a few times, still trying to process what had just happened. He was used to most people looking at him with suspicion or fear, which was fair considering his career, so hearing those words from a hero whose name he didn't even know felt strange, but in a good way. He took a deep breath and let out a short sigh, almost a restrained smile.

"Very well," he said, his voice hoarse and with a hint of tiredness, but he was trying his best to sound relaxed. "Acceptance is always the first step," he said with a chuckle.

Aizawa raised an eyebrow, serious, but there was something in his eyes that showed a hint of approval. "Yeah, I think you're right about that."

Hawks then took a step forward, hands up as if defensively. "Look, I might be a bit skeptical, but Eraserhead has a point." He paused, running a hand through his hair, and continued, "Not only are you freakishly fast and strong, but you proved with your skills that you knew what you were talking about, kid. Hitting is one thing, knowing where to hit is another. And you knew exactly where to hit. I might have some issues with your story, and you still have a lot of explaining to do, but I'm impressed."

To say Tony was dumbfounded was a gross understatement. "I hope this is something good for me?" he said, remembering Kuroda's words about the Hero Commission.

"It's good," the black-haired hero replied, "very good. But it's also a cause for concern." This made the teenager roll his eyes, "here it comes," the man decided to ignore the boy's small attitude and continued, "you are dealing with threats that even we cannot classify. This puts you in constant danger. And if you continue alone, the result will be inevitable."

"I think you're underestimating me, old man, with all due respect," the mercenary said, somewhat irritated. This man had no idea what he was going to say to him.

"I'm going to propose something to you," he said calmly. The teenager already knew what he was going to say, and he already hated it. "You need guidance and a safe place—" This made the young man laugh and simply say, "no." Before starting to walk in the opposite direction of the heroes.

"The audacity of this guy?" the mercenary thought as he walked away. "He doesn't even know me, and he already wants to tell me what to do? And what am I going there for? To be used as a lab rat or a mini-soldier? No way."

Hawks snorted, "He won't accept Eraser, there's no point." In response, he only received a look that said, "don't get involved."

Aizawa started walking behind the mercenary.

"Okay, let's take it easy, wait," the hero said when he finally caught up to the boy, who kept walking, but didn't tell him to leave.

Which was already a good sign.

Aizawa thought it was a good sign, at least.

"Let's take it one step at a time," the winged hero reached the two in a whisper. "what's your name, kid?"

"You can call me Tony Redgrave," he said without looking at the man.

This made both pro heroes pause. "Tony Redgrave." That didn't make sense. If Tony was the boy's name, why did the demons call him Dante when they saw him?

This, especially for Hawks, set off alarm bells in his head. He knew this wasn't the time to comment on it, but he wouldn't forget.

"Okay, Redgrave, demons, let's get on this supernatural journey of yours. How did they get here? Because, guess what, this is Japan, and I'm pretty sure the local underworld isn't really demonic," the blond man said sarcastically.

Without pausing, the white-haired young man remained silent for a few seconds, the smell of sulfur a little better now. "I don't know yet," he finally said seriously. "But someone opened a rift, some kind of corridor. I thought it was just one, but apparently not," the mercenary said, purposefully leaving out the part about him also passing through the rift. The heroes didn't need to know everything, just what was necessary for now.

That sentence made Hawks stop smiling completely. "Woah, that's a serious accusation to make, kid."

At that, Tony stopped and stared at the flying hero with a sarcastic smile. "I guess so, but one day a place that has no demons suddenly has demons. It's not hard to come to that conclusion, fried chicken."

This made the hero stop flying and land next to the young man. Eraserhead also stopped beside him. "Indeed," the blond hero admitted, "but it's a lot you want us to believe in one night."

Aizawa was about to make fried chicken today.

The albino took a step forward, staring intently at the pro hero. "I don't want anything from you. I don't need anything from you, 'heroes.'" He said, turning to the long-haired hero as well. "I'm just telling you what I know. I only tried to help. These demons don't follow human rules, they don't care about pain, and they have nothing to lose. If you try to face this like you face villains, not only you, but many people who have nothing to do with this will die. It's that simple. And that's not my problem, since you don't take what I said seriously." He finished, looking specifically at the red-winged hero.

Hawks bit his lower lip uneasily. Despite his relaxed posture, it was obvious he was processing every word. "The Commission will want a report on this," he said, but he seemed to be talking more to himself than to the other two.

"Good luck with the paperwork, fried chicken! I wouldn't want to be you," Tony said with a wicked grin.

Before the other hero could intervene, the winged hero's communicator beeped again with an urgent message:

"Requesting backup for an urgent situation! People injured in Shibuya, by unidentified villains with animalistic features."

Hawks's eyes widened. "You think-"

"Oh, sure. They seem to be in good spirits today? For some reason," the young man said with a sigh, trying to hide the fact that he found a second attack so far away from where he was very strange. "Good luck to you guys, okay? I hope you two don't die, okay?"

"You're not coming?" the blond hero asked, stunned. The teenager, despite having a demeanor that needed fixing, knew how to handle all this better than anyone. If these were really the things he saw here, then they needed him there.

"Give me a good reason, and I might consider it," the mercenary said, crossing his arms. "And don't come with that 'it's the right thing to do,' it doesn't work with me. Nor with 'or I'll arrest you'. We both know that wouldn't work for you."

This made Hawks pause.

He knew how to get this kid to help.

"I'll give you anything you want," he replied, looking the teenager straight in the eye. "Information? Deal. Weapons? No one's going to bother you with that. Just help us out."

Aizawa and Tony were wide-eyed. Neither of them expected the other hero to go this far.

But the young man smirked. "Okay, I'd be crazy to turn down a pro hero like that. Consider this a job I'm going to do for you, okay, man? But no spotlight, my shows are private, send the rest of your people away first."

The black-haired hero frowned at the mention of a "job," but decided not to comment.

This made the winged hero snort, he'd definitely regret it later, but he did as the boy asked. "Are you coming, Eraser?" He decided to change the subject.

"Obviously." He still had a few things to work out with the teenager.

"That's great, the whole band going together," the albino said with an amused smile, "but how do we get there?"

Chapter Text

The icy wind cut Tony's face like razors as Hawks held him by the shoulders, gaining more and more air. "Why didn't I go with the dead fish stare guy on the motorcycle?" he wondered as he dug his flying fingers into the hero's arm as if his life depended on it.

And it kind of did.

"THAT WAS A BAD IDEA," he said, his face almost the same color as his hair. "IF YOU LET ME FALL, I'LL COME BACK TO PULL YOUR FOOT."

Hawks laughed out loud at the threat. The best part of all this was that the kid chose to come with him like this instead of riding the motorcycle with Erasehead. Maybe out of curiosity, or maybe to avoid the elephant in the room that was the other hero's proposal. Maybe a combination of both?

"Oh, come on, kid! It's your first time flying, isn't it? Relax and enjoy the view!" He said playfully. Even though he was worried about the situation in Shibuya, something told him getting a reaction like that from the boy was rare.

"ENJOY IT?! I'M TWO INCHES AWAY FROM THROWING UP ON YOUR HAIR, YOU CRACKASS!" The mercenary said, his reaction completely proportional to what was happening at the moment.

Over the comm, he heard a laugh that could only be the other guy, the one named Eraserhead. "Redgrave, if you fall, Hawks won't even have time to rescue you. So try not to do that, okay?"

That was a lie. If the boy fell, Japan's fastest hero would definitely have time to rescue him easily. Aizawa knew that, but that didn't mean he couldn't joke about it.

Tony felt his heart skip a beat. Immediately after the minor heart attack, he dug his fingers deeper into the winged hero's arm. "YOU'RE NOT HELPING!"

"You seemed used to worse things not long ago," the laughing hero said, adjusting the boy, "he really has a strong grip." Suddenly, he dove forward hard to gain more speed.

Redgrave, for a moment, let out a choked scream that almost made Hawks laugh again. "I'LL KILL YOU IF WE GET TO THE GROUND ALIVE! FUCK THAT PROPOSAL YOU MADE!"

"What a dirty mouth," the flying hero replied disdainfully, but he had a smirk on his face. "You face giant, four-meter-tall demons without blinking, but you're scared of a scenic drive. This is pure gold."

The teenager squeezed his eyes shut, trying to focus on anything other than the open sky. "I know how to kill a demon. If I fall from here, the only thing that will happen to me is become pancake on the asphalt." Would his regeneration even work? It was something he didn't need to know.

"You're having fun with this, aren't you, Hawks?" came the weary voice from the communicator.

"You have no idea," the blond man replied, chuckling softly.

Suddenly, a female voice appeared from another communicator channel, "Multiple confirmed casualties in Shibuya! Unidentified, non-humanoid villains on the perimeter! Reinforcements immediately!"

"The situation seems to have worsened," the winged hero heard the other man say over the radio.

"Remember what I said, birdman, no audience, my performances are private," Redgrave reinforced, trying not to look down.

"I know it, when they see me, they'll leave. I've arranged that," Hawks said, remembering the little deal he'd made with the teenager. "Being insulted by a teenager is just what I needed at this age," he thought with a snort.

Aizawa was already at the perimeter when they landed, instructing the less relevant heroes and the police to leave the area and head to a safe area. The winged man then stopped high above the ground and carefully released Tony. The boy, however, stumbled upon touching the ground and fell to his feet, breathing heavily.

"Dry ground. I swear I'll never complain about public transportation again."

"The sulfur here is strong," he thought as he stood up. The blond hero extended a hand to help him up, but he ignored it, pushing himself off the ground. The teenager drew Rebellion, spinning the sword in a single fluid motion, and looked at the two heroes with an expression more serious than usual.

"Okay, chicken, dead fish face, no messing around now. This is going to be ugly."

Hawks crossed his arms, staring at the boy with an expression impossible to decipher. "Ugly, like how much?"

Tony scratched his chin, "Hard to say, but by the smell." He pointed to his nose, "I'd say like, remember the 14-foot ugly one? Multiply it by three."

Aizawa let out a long sigh, preparing the bandages. "This is only going to get worse, isn't it?"

Tony smirked. "Look, I'll be honest, I've never seen them this active here before. It's like something's making them crazier than usual," he said in a tone that betrayed his relaxed expression.

"Or someone," Hawks said, his expression darkening.

"Or someone," the teenager said, walking into the now-empty streets of Shibuya.

The lights in the famous Shibuya district flickered like a battlefield. Sirens screeched, smoke rose from the streets, and a deep roar reverberated between the buildings. Chaos had taken over.

The teenager, accompanied by two adults (or, in this situation, two adults accompanied by a teenager), were walking the streets, analyzing the chaos and searching for its cause.

"I'll say it again, just to make sure there's no more trouble," Tony said, with a crooked smile that didn't match his serious tone. "It's not a villain. It's demons." He said, looking specifically at Hawks.

"I'm going to ignore your attempt to irritate me for the third time today, kid," said the winged hero, sending feathers to inspect the place. "We need to contain these things—"

He was interrupted by the boy with the sword making a honking noise with his mouth. "What did I say would happen if you treated this like villains? You'll die if you do that." He said, pointing at the two of them, "Containing them won't work; these things need to die."

This part was spoken in a much darker tone than Tony intended, but from the looks on the two heroes' faces, the message seemed to have gotten through. "Finally," he snorted.

A louder roar made the three turn. In the middle of the street, the asphalt cracked like glass, and something emerged from its own grave. Goat-like legs and a jaw that gaped too wide to be natural. Behind him, four more creatures of different shapes emerged, their eyes glowing sickly shades of red and green.

"Five bosses right off the bat? That's bullshit," Hawks grumbled, letting out a low whistle.

Redgrave smiled, as if he'd received an invitation to a party. "Sounds like friday night to me."

Without waiting for orders, the boy jumped and used the heads of the smaller creatures as a ladder, spinning in the air before plunging his sword into the chest of the first creature. The impact was so strong that the ground shook. The demon roared and tried to grab him with its massive claws, but Tony rolled off the beast's arm, drew a pistol, and fired three shots into what appeared to be its weak spot: the glowing red eye in the center of its chest. The monster screamed, backing away.

The winged hero didn't stand still. He launched himself from the street, hundreds of sharp feathers flying like missiles toward the other two demons. The feathers pierced the creatures, but to his surprise, the wounds healed quickly.

"Oh, great. They have an accelerated healing factor. This will be fun," the blond quipped, narrowly dodging a claw that tried to rip off his wing.

Aizawa promptly used the scarf around his neck to immobilize one of the creatures that was trying to escape through another route. He then pulled it close to the winged hero, who decapitated it in an instant.

As he tore the big guy apart, Tony noticed something strange. The demon's scent wasn't just sulfur, there wasn't something else there, like the smell... of a hospital? The smell of hospital and sulfur combined, an ideal perfume. And since when do demons have regeneration? Still inferior to his, certainly, but what?

"Wait, he didn't say anything?" His eyes widened.

There was no "DANTEEEE" or "TRAITOR'S BLOOD" or any other demonic curses directed at him, unlike the demons before. No reaction to his presence, which left the mercenary's mouth dry.

They were also in a very well-formed group. Since when did demons do that?

The young man felt his stomach drop.

"Something's wrong," he finally concluded.

"Wrong how?" Hawks asked, quickly reaching the boy after hearing him mutter this through his scattered feathers.

Tony stood up, swinging his sword and finally cutting off the demon's head, with that he couldn't regenerate. "Demons don't regenerate, and they don't act like that, in groups. Most of the time, demons are selfish beings, you know?" The demon's body was disappearing, so Hawks grabbed the boy's arm and placed him on the ground. "Oh, thanks, continuing. And when they act, they're usually smarter than this one. When they're this stupid, it's disorganized too. Despite their formation, they don't counterattack properly; in other words, they're dumb." He kicked a piece of broken asphalt, as if irritated. "These are different. Like someone messed with them." The moment that sentence left Redgrave's mouth, he felt like an idiot. Who could even do something like that?

Still, it's the only explanation he has at the moment.

Hawks let out a humorless laugh. "You mean someone's modifying demons?" He rubbed a hand over his face.

The teenager snorted. "That's what it looks like to me. Whoever's doing this is an idiot who doesn't know what they're messing with." Shooting each remaining demon in the head, he hoped his gun wouldn't break in the process. "Hence the rifts, to catch demons. I was just really unlucky, I guess?" He clicked his tongue at that.

Someone messing with the demons? He didn't like the way that possibility made him feel.

But he had to admit, a tension he hadn't known was in his body had left him. It probably wasn't his presence's fault this time.

It wasn't.

Aizawa watched the boy more closely than he let on. He noticed the details: the way Tony analyzed each piece of clue, as if he were piecing together an invisible puzzle; the way he didn't seem surprised by the creatures' existence, but rather by their behavior; and how he was clearly bothered by the answer he'd arrived at. The way his shoulders seemed to relax for a moment, as if he'd been holding a breath he'd finally managed to exhale.

He put the pieces together mentally. The boy knew too much, fought like no other, had superhuman strength and reflexes, and now he was clearly intrigued by something not even Japan's greatest heroes understood.

It was the blond who broke the silence, "whoever's messing with this is doing hellish good job." The albino teenager admits that the little joke brought a genuine smile to his face.

Hawks continued, "The Hero Commission is going to go crazy over all this," he said, running a hand over his face.

That's when Aizawa had an idea. "Don't tell them, at least not yet. Tell them you think it was a Nomu like the one from the Class 1A attack."

The blond hero's eyes widened. "And why would I do that, Eraser?" He said, crossing his arms. "Isn't it better for them to know all about this?"

The black-haired hero looked at Tony, who was now wiping the purple blood from his sword, but who didn't have a scratch on him. "This kid knows more than he's letting on. And whoever's behind this, I don't trust the Commission to handle it properly just yet."

Tony looked up, stopping cleaning his sword and leaving it on the ground. "And what does that mean?"

"It means," the man began, with that slow, controlled tone only his possessed, "that you're coming with me. Because of what happened in the warehouse incident, it's the best way to help you until we can think of something better."

Tony blinked, irritated. "This again?" "Oh, sure. Because getting into a stranger's car always ends well," he said sarcastically.

Hawks smiled sarcastically. "Relax, he's just a little weird. School is worse," he said, even though he had no experience with U.A.

"School was all I needed, a quality education at this point in my life," the teenager laughed dryly and incredulous. "Look, dead fish stare, this isn't how I do things, okay?"

"And the way you're doing things, will it help solve the problem?" This…caught the teenager off guard; he didn't have a good answer for it.

Don't be fooled, he doesn't really care what's happening here. It didn't seem like it was his fault anyway, and he cared even less about the heroes and villains, but the idea of ​​someone modifying and changing the demons made bile rise in his throat and his stomach churn.

And unfortunately, the man also had a point. He'd found a bar very similar to Bobby's Cellar and Enzo 2.0, aka Kuroda. He was definitely getting by. But he wasn't making any progress on his "return home" mission. The only thing he'd done was become a pseudo-postman with a sword.

Anyway, to return to his world, he'd need more help than he'd care to admit, especially if they were messing with the demons. And that person probably didn't appreciate his interference in their evil plans.

The people here wouldn't be like Red Grave either. The police here and at least a few "heroes" seemed to genuinely care about people. They wouldn't let any death caused by demons go unnoticed, and sooner or later, the smell of decay permeating him because of them and the involuntary connection he had with the demons would bring trouble.

He concluded that the glimpse of normalcy he'd had with Kuroda and that bar whose name he couldn't pronounce was nice, but it wouldn't help in the long run.

Seeing that the teenager looked thoughtful, Aizawa decided to go ahead with the idea. "You don't have to become a student, just stay with me. It'll be easier to keep you updated on any new information and it'll give you a better support network."

With that, Tony turned to the adult. "So, no heroic stuff for me, right? And no literature?"

Eraserhead nodded.

"And that's not an excuse to make me a lab rat, is it?"

Both adults widened their eyes at this question. "No, kid, that won't happen to you, you have my word," the black-haired man said softly.

Tony narrowed his eyes, trying to read if the man was lying. The hero's weary gaze didn't waver in the slightest, which, in a way, bothered him.

"Okay, but I don't want to be a student. If you try to push me that way, I'm leaving," the teenager said finally, putting his sword back in its case.

The teacher nodded. He couldn't force the boy to join the school; the fact that he was open was already a victory.

"And if I wake up one day and there are people in lab coats trying to draw my blood, I swear I'll tear the whole place apart. And there won't even be a chalkboard left," the mercenary said in the most serious voice in the world.

Hawks let out a short laugh. "Geez, kid, you trust people, huh?"

"Trust is the quickest way to die." The young man replied with a mocking half-smile, but his pale eyes held no humor. There were only two people he placed his complete trust in, and neither of them were present at the moment.

The comment made Aizawa narrow his gaze, but he decided not to press him. Instead, he adjusted his scarf, looking at the chaos around him. Sirens still echoed in the distance, the rubble smoked, and the smell of sulfur lingered so strong it seemed to stick to his skin.

“Anyway,” the black-haired hero said, “if what you’re saying about these creatures is true, we’re going to need all the information we can get. Everything you know about the demons’ behavior, their attack patterns. Anything that might help.”

Tony took a deep breath, running his hand over his face. He looked at the ground, where the black dust from one of the modified demons still spread. The texture stuck to his gloves like wet ash.

“You’re getting too technical for my taste, man,” the young man said dismissively. “I usually just shoot and stab them until they die. You’re confusing this with villains again. Villains are human, this things aren't.” he said, looking at the man with a bored look.

“Not only that, but these are apparently modified demons,” the boy added. “They’ll probably be different from normal ones.” This realization made him lower his head wearily. “These ones don’t even talk.”

The winged hero (who didn't look so winged without a large portion of his feathers) raised an eyebrow. "They don't?"

The albino nodded, tightening the amulet around his neck. "Most demons are stupid, but they talk, you heard them before. They curse, scream, call names, these ones just attack. As if they were programmed to do so."

"Programmed," the blond repeated, crossing his arms and tilting his head. "You're basically saying someone is controlling them."

"No," the mercenary replied seriously. "I'm saying someone messed with them. How did they do it? I don't know, but there's an extra scent on them now."

"An extra scent?" the black-haired man asked, making a note to ask how the boy could smell those things in the first place later.

Tony nodded. "Instead of sulfur like it usually is, this is sulfur combined with that kind of smell only hospitals have? It's hard to explain, but it's not like it belongs there." He said, rubbing his nose.

Aizawa exchanged a quick glance with Hawks. They didn't need to say anything: they both thought the same thing.

Something that attacked with orders and had the cognition of a lab rat.

Something they had seen for the first time only a short time ago. These events were too close together to be coincidence.

Nomus.

Chapter Text

Seeing the two heroes exchange a silent look, Tony clicked his tongue. "I feel like you just shared something I don't know, and that's not fair!" he pouted. "You wanted me to tell you what I know, now it's your turn. Or I'm leaving," the teenager said with terribly hidden irritation.

The boy was right; both heroes knew it.

It was Eraserhead who spoke first. "You saw the attack that happened against a U.A. class, right?"

The boy nodded.

With confirmation, the black-haired hero continued, "So who caused this attack was a group of villains called the League of Villains."

The name made the teenager chuckle, "everyone really loves cheesy names here."

Ignoring the boy's laughter, Aizawa continued. "They weren't alone; they were with this creature called a Nomu. Very strong, very agile, but with extremely reduced cognitive ability. Not much else is known."

This made the mercenary put his hand to his chin. "Very strong, you say? I don't think the demons were any stronger, but it's a good start." A villain messing with demons, great.

This eased some of the tension in Hawks's shoulders. "Well, at least that," he said, clasping his hands together.

Sirens began to wail in the distance. "Well, I guess that's my cue!" the boy said, starting to walk. Noting that the black-haired man wasn't walking either, he stopped. "Aren't you coming? I agreed to accompany you, dead fish, don't be rude."

"Where are you even going?" the hero asked, his eyes weary.

"Get my stuff, obviously?" the young man said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "I just bought a lot of things, I'm not leaving it behind."

"Want me to take you, kid?" the winged hero asked with a mischievous grin.

Redgrave barely glanced at him as he smiled and said, "I don't think you can do that anymore, little wing." At that, Hawks looked at his wing, which was much smaller without its normal number of feathers, and rolled his eyes. "I can still fly, you annoying thing."

Ignoring the children's bickering, Eraserhead looked at the other pro hero, "Are you coming? Don't you have to talk to the commission now?"

The hero with tiny wings now grimaced. "It would be better, but they can wait until morning. Someone has to make sure the kid doesn't run away from you just yet."

This made the young man crack a smug smile. "That's a lie," he said, pointing at the blond. "You just liked me. It's okay, I'm that good."

"If that's going to make you sleep better, kid," the winged man said, trying to contain the laughter rising in his throat.

While the two of them were bickering, Aizawa pulled out a phone to call a car.

The hotel where the mercenary was staying was in one of Tokyo's most criminally active neighborhoods. This caused the two pro heroes to exchange glances.

Arriving there, Hawks decided to wait in the car while Eraserhead went upstairs with Tony to get his things, even though the boy insisted it wasn't necessary.

When he arrived at the relatively small room, the black-haired man saw several bags scattered around. "Oh, if you insist, then grab these while I go put the bathroom stuff away," he heard the teenager say as he grabbed a bag and disappeared into the bathroom.

Aizawa sighed at this. "That attitude, that would be Bakugou if he were more passive than aggressive." He thought as he noticed the clothes inside the bags. The man had expected something much worse.

When he finished grabbing the bags, the silver-haired boy came out of the bathroom. "Okay, let's leave these in the car. I need to go somewhere before we go."

"Wait, but is that all?" The teacher regretted letting the question slip when he saw the teenager's expression sour.

"Yes, that's all," the boy replied dryly, without any jokes or sarcastic remarks.

Even at home, Tony didn't have much. He always preferred to spend his money (which wasn't a lot due to his debts) on non-durable consumer goods like strawberry sundaes, pizzas, guns, some nice clothes, and the inevitable repair of his red coat.

Without another word, the two left the room.

Descending the stairs, the hero broke the silence first. "So, this place you want to go?"

Aizawa considered asking about the boy's parents, but decided against it at the last second, after thinking more about the situation and the young man's already volatile mood.

"A place that wouldn't appreciate a visit from heroes, you know what I mean?" Redgrave asked, adjusting the amulet around his neck. "Look, you have my things. I'm not running away. I won't even take long." He said in a neutral tone.

"I trust you," the pro hero said without hesitation, which left the mercenary even more confused.

He decided to mask his confusion with a sarcastic smile. "Let's see if you don't regret this, dead fish face."

After some convincing, Hawks agreed to wait in the car with Aizawa.

The bar was bustling in the ungodly hours. The neon sign was still flashing, and the walls still smelled of cigarettes and cheap beer.

Tony had only known this place for a short time, but it still reminded him of home. Knowing he wouldn't be returning here anytime soon, if ever, left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Seeing him enter, the tired bartender immediately began arranging a large strawberry sundae, which made the silver-haired boy's stomach growl. He hadn't realized he was hungry.

"Can you pack it to go? I can't stay." This made the bartender pause before nodding and pouring the contents of the glass into a plastic one.

"Can't stay, huh?" the mercenary heard from behind him. Kuroda was sitting at a table near the window, the small man twirling a still-unlit cigar in his fingers and wearing a curious look.

"Yeah, let's just say my services have been enlisted long-term," he said, sitting down while waiting for his dessert to be ready.

"Too bad, I had something else for you," the Japanese man said with a frustrated sigh. "An 'interesting' service, I imagine."

"Hire someone else to be your mailman, man," Tony said with a smirk. ""Interesting", I hope it is, at least."

The silence lasted a few seconds. "Does what happened in Shibuya just now have anything to do with this?" Kuroda broke the silence.

"Who knows?" The mercenary replied, "But remember what I told you about the demons?"

The Japanese man stared at him, but before he could say anything, the bartender Yuki handed him the glass and a plastic spoon.

With a wave, the young man stood and said goodbye. "I hope things continue to go well for you, man. We've only known each other for a short time, but it wasn't that bad, I guess," he said as he took a spoonful of the frozen dessert and walked toward the door.

"Take care, Redgrave," he heard the man say as he walked toward the door, "Don't let the demons pull your leg."

This made Tony laugh.

Returning to the car still parked in front of the hotel, Hawks rolled down the passenger window with an irritated grunt. "I can't believe you made us wait half an hour to buy ICE CREAM in the middle of the night!"

Opening the back door and placing the guitar case on the seat next to him, Tony glanced at him in the mirror. "First; you jealous bastard, this is a SUNDAE, more respect," the young man said, shaking the almost empty plastic cup. "Second; priorities. That's all I'm going to say."

The blond hero let out a frustrated huff at this.

Eraserhead just looked at him with a reprimanding expression as he started the car.

The car glided silently through the streetlights of Tokyo, but inside the vehicle, a peculiar kind of silence reigned. The winged hero sat in the passenger seat, his arm resting on the open window, drumming his fingers on the dashboard. Aizawa drove with that permanently exhausted expression, his eyes half-closed as if he were ready to sleep, although the mercenary was almost certain he rarely did by the depth of the dark circles under his eyes.

The boy in the backseat was finishing scraping the last traces of the sundae with the plastic spoon, the dry, repetitive sound filling the air. The blond sighed loudly, casting a sidelong glance at the black-haired man, who solemnly ignored him.

"You know ice cream at this hour will give you a stomachache, right, kid?" the hero commented, just teasing.

The teenager looked up from his empty cup as he bit into his spoon. "I'd rather die happy from an overdose of strawberries and whipped cream than live sadly eating salad."

"Exemplary education," the man Tony was beginning to doubt was actually older than him murmured, running his hand over his face. "You'll do well in school."

"I'm not going into the school," the teenager replied without hesitation, sinking into the seat. "I'm just going to, I don't know? Exist there. Whatever the dead fish guy thinks."

Hawks was about to retort, but after seeing the look the teacher was giving him, he decided not to.

Putting his empty plastic cup aside, he leaned his head against the window, wanting to take in the scenery. However, the rocking of the car and the drop in adrenaline were making that task difficult.

Tony tried to resist the weight of his eyelids, but it was a struggle he couldn't win.

"I need to find your brother," a blonde woman said, holding the closet door and looking at him with all the love in the world.

"Mom," he started to say something, but a sob cut him off. He was so scared.

"You have to be strong, okay?" she said, forcing a smile with tears in her eyes as she hid him in the closet and the fire grew. "A man."

"If I don't come back," she said, her voice trembling, "you have to run. Run. And change your name." She started to close the door, "a new beginning."

After making sure the door was closed, she started running out of the room. "Vergil!" she screamed. "Vergil, where are you?!"

Suddenly, a scream of pain cut through the air.

"Mom!" he screamed, and it was the only thing he could do as he listened to demons kill his mother.

The car shook slightly as it hit a speed bump, and Tony woke with a jolt, his eyes flying open. His chest rose and fell rapidly, his fingers clutching the silver and red amulet around his neck as if it were the only anchor keeping him present. The muffled sounds of the city slowly returned, mixed with the low rumble of the car's engine.

He blinked a few times, trying to shake off the haze of the nightmare, but the sensation of fire and the smell of sulfur wouldn't go away.

He knew this all too well.

"Everything okay back there, kid?" Hawks asked without looking back, his voice casual but with a hint of curiosity.

The teenager took a moment to answer, which made the winged hero frown. Eventually, he heard a dry chuckle. "Everything's great, japanese fried chicken," the boy said with a smile neither of the other two companions in the car could see. "I just fell asleep."

Eraserhead glanced quickly in the rearview mirror, his eyes half-lidded but alert. He didn't say anything, which was worse than if he had. Tony could feel the silent judgment hanging in the air.

The boy cleared his throat, trying to change the subject. "Is it going to take long for us to get there?"

"No," Aizawa replied simply, turning the corner. "Ten more minutes."

The car plunged onto another streetlight, but the silence now seemed thicker. The mercenary tried to focus on the landscape passing quickly outside the window, as if that could dispel the flashes of the nightmare. But with every blink, he still saw the closet, his mother's face, the smell of smoke and blood.

He gripped the amulet tighter, his knuckles turning white.

"You're sweating." The hero with the now-tiny wings pointed, "I told you eating ice cream at this time would make you sick. If you're feeling sick, you'd better say so. I don't want to have to clean up teenage vomit over everything that happened today."

Redgrave snorted, trying to sound cool. "Worried about me, man? Relax, it's just the heat."

This made the hero look at him in confusion. "Hot, kid?" He asked with a frown. "It's the middle of the night."

Tony decided to ignore this statement.

The blond gave a half-smile, about to poke him again, but stopped when he noticed the boy's hand wouldn't let go of the amulet, not even for a second. He exchanged a quick glance with the man driving, who pretended not to notice, but his grip on the steering wheel betrayed that he had.

To break the silence, Aizawa spoke first, "Just for the record, you're spending the night at U.A. until I think of something better."

"I thought we had arranged something, man?" the boy asked suspiciously.

"Just today, kid," he said, trying to reassure the teenager.

The boy let out a low laugh. "Really? Me, at school? It doesn't suit me, Professor. I'll look like a shark in an aquarium." The only time he'd been in a place that felt more like a school was when he was on Morris Island and he had a teacher. "But that was a long time ago."

"It's just today, and it's not an option," Aizawa retorted dryly. "You saw the demons. That already puts you on the Commission's radar, and now you're on ours too."

"Radar, observation, security." Tony sighed and sank back into the seat. "This all sounds a lot like prison." He came to a conclusion.

"Exactly, kid," the winged hero said.

"You're not funny," the boy muttered, closing his eyes again.

The rest of the drive was silent. He tried to keep his eyes open, but the weight of his eyelids overcame him. The car rocked gently, the low rumble of the engine lulling him, and before he knew it, he was back in that closet, in the fire, in his mother's voice.

When he woke again, the car was already passing the gates of U.A. The view of the school at night was imposing—a massive building filled with windows, security spotlights, cameras at every possible angle.

The boy looked up at the main facade and let out a low whistle. "It looks more like a military complex than a school."

"That's basically it," Hawks replied, getting out of the car with an amused expression. "Let's go."

Tony grabbed his guitar case and the bags of clothes and jumped out, but he didn't take three steps before he realized the two heroes were watching him more closely than he would have liked.

"There's a 'rare animal at the zoo' vibe going on here, you know?" he commented, adjusting the amulet around his neck.

Aizawa ignored the irony and started walking. "Let's go straight to the infirmary. Then we'll talk to Director Nezu."

Tony huffed but continued. As much as he grumbled, something deep down told him that maybe things would be easier after this. For now, at least.

Chapter Text

The U.A. infirmary was silent, lit only by cold lights that made the room even more sterile. The strong smell of antiseptic permeated the air. Tony threw himself onto the nearest bed, dropping his guitar case to the floor with a thud.

"I don't have a scratch, I don't need this," he grumbled, crossing his arms. "If they try to draw my blood, they'll lose their finger."

"Calm down, wild animal, no one's going to do that," Eraserhead said, leaning against the wall in front of the apple. "I know you don't need it, but it's always good to check."

It was then that a short woman with a gray bun walked through the door with a lollipop in her mouth and a cane in her hand. Recovery Girl stopped beside the bed, looking him up and down with an expression that oscillated between weariness and curiosity.

"You're the boy who survived the attack?"

"I survived the attack?" The mercenary wondered what the man in front of him had said to his fellow heroes. "I prefer 'boy who survived a bunch of nonsense,' but yes, that's me." He smiled, but she didn't return it.

"Arm," the woman said simply.

Tony blinked. "What?"

"Arm." Recovery Girl pointed at him impatiently with her cane.

Sighing, the boy extended his left arm. She picked up a small device, similar to a portable monitor, and placed it on his wrist. The screen beeped a few times, displaying complex graphs and readings that the teenager didn't understand at all. Recovery Girl, on the other hand, frowned.

"Blood flow accelerated, blood pressure a little low, temperature a little high, but nothing to worry about," she said, looking at the black-haired man and moving away from the boy, using the cane to tap his leg.

"Can you translate into language I understand?" the boy, now sitting, asked.

"It means you are fine," she nodded, then began tapping his knee with the cane.

"Hey! What's the point of violence? I'm fine here!" the albino exclaimed, bringing his knee to his chest.

"Get up," the cruel (in Tony's opinion, at least) nurse instructed, "I need to check your reflexes."

The teenager grumbled, but did as she asked. Until the part where she asked him to take off his coat and used the cold stethoscope to listen to his heartbeats and lungs, the mercenary couldn't prove it, but he knew she was doing it on purpose.

Once she finished her exams, Recovery Girl simply nodded. "Physically, he's in perfect shape," she declared, looking at the other two adults in the room. "Healthier than the average student here, actually."

Hawks, who was leaning against the window, smiled with one hand on his chin. "Not bad, kid."

Tony narrowed his eyes and let out a sigh. "Can I go to sleep now?" The boy asked. He usually woke up around this time and slept during the day in his world, but too much had happened today, and he hadn't had a good nap before arriving here.

"Soon, okay?" the school teacher promised, his eyes soft. "The principal just wants to talk to you first."

"Principal?"

"Don't worry, brat," the winged hero said, approaching the stretcher where Tony was sitting. "He's a pretty interesting guy."

"That doesn't comfort me," the boy said, putting his red coat back on and picking up his guitar case.

The office was cozy, decorated with books and maps scattered across the walls. Tony walked in with his hands in his pockets, his eyes scanning every detail until he froze in place.

Behind the desk, sitting in an impeccable suit and holding a cup of tea, was an animal. A small, white rodent (it looked very much like a rat), refined in appearance, staring at him with a calm smile.

Tony blinked a few times, processing. "This is a joke, right?"

"Not at all," the small creature said politely. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Redgrave. I'm Principal Nezu."

Tony looked at Hawks, then at Aizawa, expecting an explanation, but they both seemed to think everything was perfectly normal. "And demons are hard to believe?"

"Principal," the boy said, more to himself than to the others in the room.

"Yes," the rodent said, finding the young man's reaction quite amusing. "I'm glad he finds it amusing," the school teacher couldn't help but think.

"This place gets more interesting with each passing moment," the teenager said, trying his best not to make eye contact with the little animal. If he did, he would start laughing.

"First, I want to thank you for your help with today's incident. Aizawa told me what happened, but don't worry, the rest of the school staff thinks you were just a teenager caught in the crossfire. I won't spread the word about what you did. What I mean is, if it weren't for your intervention, the situation could have been much worse," the little white mouse said softly.

Tony felt a little uncomfortable about this; no one had ever thanked him so much for a service. "Being a mercenary certainly doesn't help."

Hawks noticed the boy's reaction, but did nothing but smile.

"Look, I was just passing by, it wasn't much," he said, still not looking the little creature in the eye.

"For us, it was," Aizawa said, finally speaking. "And that's why we want you to stay around."

"I already told you I don't want to stay at school. I agreed to stay with you, not here." The teenager pointed at the black-haired man.

"I work here, so for you to stay with me, you'd come here too."

Tony felt betrayed by this; this wasn't the deal he'd imagined. "That's not what I thought was on the table. I'm leaving." He said, getting up from his chair. "I asked for one thing: not to be part of this circus," the boy said, looking hurt at the teacher.

Before he could leave, he felt a hand on his shoulder. "Calm down and listen to what they have to say." The blond hero said in a calm voice, "A lot happened today, and I know you're tired, but calm down."

The teenager just let out a huff and sat back down at the table, resigned. "Okay, I'll finish listening."

Hawks then nodded to Eraserhead, who continued. "I remember what you said, Redgrave, believe me. I believe what you say, but you need to believe me too."

The mercenary simply hated how everything the man said always made sense; it was irritating.

The school principal then cleared his throat. "You wouldn't be a student in the first place. There's no way that's an option since we've just started the semester," he said, choosing to ignore the previous outburst.

This made the albino a little more relaxed. "Then what would I do?"

"You'd be a sort of monitor/teacher's assistant. That way, you could stay with Aizawa while still having a minimal connection with the school," the rodent explained, clasping his hands.

"Basically, you'd help me with some things and be present, but without having to be responsible for the school itself," the teacher said, explaining better. "Your only responsibility would be to remain within reach."

"That seems kind of boring," the young man said, as if pointing out the obvious. "I'll get paid for it at least?"

The winged hero then let out a frustrated huff. "I know teenagers are hard to please, but this is ridiculous—"

"I didn't say I wouldn't accept it." The boy pointed again, his tone making it seem like he was saying the most obvious thing in the world. "I said it was boring; it's not the first time I've taken a boring job."

Aizawa frowned at the mention of "job" again, but decided not to bring it up yet. The director also decided not to comment.

"Great then, we can look into this 'payment' thing later," Nezu said, clapping his hands together. "Is there anything else I need to know? Your parents-" At that, the boy stood up abruptly.

"Look, I'll be part of this circus for a while, but I'm not a clown like you guys," Tony said, finally looking the director in the eye. "We're not friends. Don't start asking questions I wouldn't answer even if we were."

The director simply waved it off.

"Great," the teenager said, yawning, but Hawks immediately realized it was a fake yawn. "Can I sleep somewhere?"

"In the teacher's lounge," the teacher replied. "There's a sofa bed there. I just need to finish something with the principal, and we'll be on our way."

"I'll go with him, Eraser, no problem." The winged hero responded, taking a step forward. "I remember where it is from the last time I came." It was a brief inspection, but Hawks had a good memory.

Before Tony could say anything, the winged hero was already pulling him out of the room.

The two of them walked in silence to the room in question, which was actually quite spacious. There was a table near the door, a small kitchen to the side, and a TV in front of the sofa. It looked more comfortable than the hotel Tony was staying at.

Hawks quickly pulled the sofa out, practically turning it into a single bed.

The boy took off his coat and placed it on the table near the tiny kitchen, then sat on the sofa that was now a bed to take off his boots. "Don't think I forgot, you still owe me a payment, bro," the teenager said, narrowing his gaze at the pro hero.

"Relax, brat, I haven't forgotten, but I'm going to have to owe you. They'll soon be bugging me to go back to the Commission headquarters, and someone will have to start forging the Nomu attack reports," he said, waving his hand.

"I've never had anyone owe me anything before," the teenager said in a monotone. Most of the time, he was the one who owed people money.

But he was going to pay.

At some point.

Hawks stared at the boy for a few moments, his expression hard to read, before finally pulling something out of his coat. A card.

"To prove I don't go back on my word, I'm giving you this. It's my agency number. If you want to charge me, just call-" Tony snatched the card from the hero's hand abruptly and put it away before he finished, as if he felt like he might pull his hand back at any moment. The blond sighed before continuing, "Or if you need help, too."

This made the teenager raise an eyebrow.

"Why are you doing this? You don't even believe or trust my story completely." The young man really didn't understand. He knew the winged hero found him suspicious and that they had a bit of a rocky start.

A neutral expression, but with a hint of melancholy, crossed the hero's face. "You remind me of someone. I may not trust you 100%, but that doesn't mean I don't see it."

This knocked the breath out of the mercenary's lungs. He opened his mouth to try to retort or mock the hero, telling him he wasn't a child, but no sound came out. For the second time that morning, Tony Redgrave was speechless.

"Don't think about it too much, okay?" the hero said, getting up and walking to the open window. "Be careful, okay brat?" he said before throwing himself out and disappearing into the night.

The brat in question sat there for a while longer, staring at the ground before finally lying down on the couch.

"The people in this place are all really strange."

Tony woke to the sound of a coffee machine and the smell of coffee. Muttering softly that it was too early, he finally opened his eyes, which were promptly blinded by the morning sun. He really wasn't used to waking up at this time.

Looking to the side where the smell and sound were coming from, he saw the black-haired teacher standing in front of the machine. Without even looking at him, the teacher broke the atmosphere, "You snore, you know?"

"No, I don't," the teenager retorted, sitting up. He instinctively searched for his red coat on the table, but found nothing. "My coat?!" He asked as he searched, he was sure he'd left it there. "It was expensive, where is it?!" The young man asked irritably.

"I asked a staff member to wash it, relax," Aizawa said, unimpressed by the small display of attitude. "He and Bakugo are going to get along so well," he thought sarcastically.

"If they stain my coat, I swear."

Ignoring the boy's minor drama over the item of clothing, he pointed to a door next to the TV. "There's a bathroom over there. Take a shower and brush your teeth, and put them on," he said, pointing to a pile of clothes on the counter that Tony recognized as the black jacket and sweatpants he'd bought earlier.

"At least they won't try to make me wear a uniform," he thought with a sigh.

Grabbing the clothes and heading to the bathroom, he tried to see what Aizawa was doing, but to no avail.

After a 20-minute shower, at least 15 of which he spent thinking, "What the hell is going on in my life?" He returned to the living room and found the teacher sitting at the table eating, a plate with toast and eggs on the table.

"Anyone else going to join you, man?" the young man asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Yes, you." The man replied in a neutral tone, "Come on, eat."

"Oh, it's for me." The teenager felt a bit silly for not noticing earlier as he sat down.

As he ate, his eyes widened. "This is really good?!" Tony said, his expression genuinely impressed.

The teenager quickly finished his toast, swallowing the last piece barely chewing. He wiped his mouth with his hand and looked at the pro hero, who was now simply sipping his coffee without showing any expression of approval or disapproval.

Trying to make conversation, the mercenary blurted, "So what are we doing today?"

"You're going to meet Class 1A and introduce yourself as my assistant, simple," the teacher said, placing the cup on the table.

"I can't believe I'm going to have to babysit at this point of my life," Tony blurted.

Aizawa could have pointed out how the boy was the same age as most of his students, but he decided not to.

Chapter Text

Leaving the teacher's lounge with his guitar case slung over his shoulder, Tony walked through the vast hallways of U.A. alongside Aizawa. "You don't want to leave this somewhere else," the man said, pointing to the case where Rebellion and his pistols were stored.

"No," the mercenary replied promptly. He would never leave Rebellion lying around in a strange place.

The serious reaction told the teacher everything he needed to know, so he decided to continue without pressing the issue. "There will be a regular class in the classroom, and I'll watch this one with you," he said, changing the subject.

"A normal class?" the young man asked, intrigued by the concept of normal in this place.

"Art history," the professor explained calmly, his voice weary, making Redgrave wonder if the man had slept at all.

The man continued, "This classmate of mine is a bit", he paused, trying to find the right words, "eccentric, so don't pay her too much attention."

"Eccentric?" What could be considered eccentric in a place where there were people with animal mutations? "That could mean a lot of things, dead fish."

"You'll understand when you see it," Aizawa said, already dreading the interaction between the troubled teenager and his longtime classmate.

As they approached the classroom, the sounds of voices and laughter began to become audible, mixed with the occasional clang of school equipment. Then, outside a specific classroom, stood a woman who made Tony nearly choke.

Eraserhead sighed at this.

In front of them stood the heroine Midnight. Her flashy, revealing, and scandalous outfit and pointy glasses contrasted with Aizawa's seriousness, and the heroine stood with her arms crossed, a wide, playful smile on her lips, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. To say Tony Redgrave was open-mouthed was an understatement.

"Wow, what kind of art class can someone like her teach? Artistic nudity?" the teenager couldn't help but think.

"Oh, they're finally here!" The long-haired heroine blurted out, "Aizawa and the boy who survived that weird attack in Shibuya, right? You're under Eraser's wing now, right?" she asked in a friendly tone.

Shaking his head and doing his best not to stare at the woman, "My name is Tony Redgrave," he replied, looking at the tired hero in shock.

"You get used to it," the tired man replied, already knowing what the boy must be thinking. Walking to Midnight's side, he continued, "This is the history of art teacher, the heroine, Midnight."

"Nice to meet you," the teenager said, clearly disconcerted.

"Aww, he's adorable, Eraser," she said, making Tony blush a little. Normally, whenever women said things to him, the teenager would have a neutral, even disinterested reaction if he wasn't interested in them first, but a dominatrix saying that wasn't something he was expecting today.

Deciding not to point out the inner conflict the teenager was definitely having, the heroine continued, "You'll be Aizawa's assistant starting today."

Shaking his head again, a little harder, he nodded.

"Great! I'll calm the class down so you can introduce yourself, okay? Don't be nervous, they're a great group!" Midnight said excitedly as she entered the room.

"Wow," was all Redgrave could say after she left.

"You did well," the professor said, patting him on the back. "She's eccentric, but a good teacher and hero. After the initial shock, you'll realize that."

"What a crazy place," was all the young man could think as he nodded and entered the room.

Tony sighed deeply before walking through the door, clutching Rebellion's case tightly. The room was full of students, most still murmuring among themselves, anxious and curious.

"So, class, as I said, we have a new addition to the U.A. staff, be nice!" Midnight said from a lectern. Suddenly, the eyes of at least twenty teenagers were on the teenager standing in front of the door next to the other teacher. The young man tried his best to appear casual, but deep down, the attention made him a little uncomfortable. Even though he was used to being the center of attention, something about the situation made him feel extremely self-conscious.

Noticing this, Aizawa walked to the front of the lectern where the outrageous heroine stood and cleared his throat, drawing almost all the students' attention to him.

"Good morning, class," he said without any enthusiasm, "as Midnight seems to have already explained, today you'll be meeting a new member of our staff."

"This is so cool!" One of the girls, who now that the teenager looked at her, realized she was completely pink and looked like an alien from a movie, said.

"Wow, I still don't understand why demons are the most shocking things," he thought, wrinkling his nose.

"We have a guest today, who will be a recurring presence for an indefinite period of time," the teacher continued, gesturing for the teenager to join him in front of the board. He did so with a snort.

"This is Tony Redgrave, my temporary assistant." The teenager nodded, feeling the gaze of a group of teenagers on the back of his neck.

Looking at the group, he saw several unique features besides the pink girl. He recognized the bird-faced boy from the newspaper he'd seen a few days ago. There was a boy with red hair, another with hair half red and half white, and also, a guy with tentacles? And…flying clothes? Tony decided not to ask.

In a row, a green-haired boy stared at him, mumbling things the teenager didn't understand.

Aizawa was looking at him in a way he couldn't describe, a little worried or apprehensive, yet with a look of understanding and calm that made the teenager clutch his amulet.

Only after a while did he realize he'd spent a lot of time silently observing the other teenagers, which made him mentally slap himself.

The teenager finally sighed deeply, trying to calm the feeling of being studied like a rare specimen. He gripped the handle of his Rebellion case tighter and lifted his chin, staring at the class with an air of indifference, but it was obvious that everyone's attention was making him slightly uncomfortable.

Scratching the back of his neck, he finally began to speak, "Well, as Aizawa already said, my name is Tony, I'm not from Japan, and I'm going to help the teacher here for a while."

The green-haired boy raised his hand quickly.

"Here we go."

"Yes?" Tony said, pointing to the broccoli-haired boy.

"Where are you from, Mr. Redgrave?" The boy asked so quickly he had trouble understanding.

"I'm from the United States," he said. But he wasn't sure. Redgrave would fit in in the US, right?

Suddenly, a tall boy with glasses and a girl with black hair stood up.

The tall boy, with impeccable posture and glasses glinting in the classroom light, bowed politely before speaking, his voice as serious as his expression, "Welcome to U.A., Mr. Redgrave! I'm Tenya Iida, class representative of Class 1-A!" the teenager said, gesturing exaggeratedly.

"Let's forget about 'Mr. Redgrave', just call me Tony," the teenager retorted, looking at the scene.

The girl next to the other teenager nodded. The girl with neatly groomed black hair bowed gracefully. "And I'm Momo Yaoyorozu, vice class representative. It's a pleasure to have you with us. If you have any communication problems, you can talk to me or my classmate," he said calmly and politely.

Tony blinked a few times, feeling like he was in front of a makeshift diplomatic committee. He scratched the back of his neck and forced a half smile.

"Thanks for the welcome, I guess?" he replied, his voice laced with a slight sarcasm that seemed to go unnoticed by both of them.

Meanwhile, a few giggles began to erupt among the other students. The pink girl whispered something to a blond boy, who let out a muffled laugh. Another blond, sitting further back, snorted loudly, crossing his arms and glaring at Tony with narrowed eyes.

"Tch, just another extra who'll want to get in the way," he muttered, loud enough for everyone to hear.

The albino looked away, arching an eyebrow. A barely perceptible smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Look how dangerous he is," he replied sarcastically.

The entire room erupted in a mix of laughter and surprised murmurs. Bakugo jumped to his feet, his hands flashing, catching the mercenary's attention. "Quirk," he thought.

"WHAT DID YOU SAY, YOU LITTLE SHIT?!"

"Bakugo, sit down," Eraserhead cut in, his voice low and threatening, his eyes already shining with fatigue and irritation. The boy obeyed, but not before giving Tony a deadly glare.

"If these are going to be tomorrow's heroes, this world is screwed." The teenager couldn't help but think. He just shrugged, as if it had been nothing.

Sighing, the tired teacher turned to the albino, "Don't provoke them."

The young man automatically raised his arms in defense, "I didn't provoke anyone, that chihuahua over there started it."

The comment made a few people laugh again.

"WHAT DID YOU CALL ME?" The reaction made Tony laugh too; it was so easy.

"Bakugo!" Aizawa exclaimed, then glanced at the other teenager, who stopped laughing.

"Sorry, sorry," he said, placing his hands in front of him again in surrender.

Midnight chuckled at this, causing the other teacher to raise an eyebrow. "You're loving this, aren't you?"

"Just a little," she admitted, then looked at the young man standing there. "You can sit at the teacher's table today. We'll definitely find something for you tomorrow, okay?"

The young man nodded, a little calmer now after laughing a bit, but still avoiding looking at the heroine for a long time.

He removed the guitar case from his shoulders and placed it on the table before sitting in his chair.

Midnight once again took control of the class, giving examples of hero names, each more embarrassing than the last in the mercenary's opinion, while Aizawa was...

Packing a sleeping bag?

Tony blinked and stared at the man as he climbed into the sack. "What are you doing?" He finally worked up the courage to ask.

"Going to sleep," the tired hero said in a tone that indicated this was an extremely common occurrence.

"In the middle of the classroom?"

"Yes," he replied again in the same tone.

"Okay then," the young man said resignedly. "I'm definitely in a mental institution."

The break bell rang, and with that, Tony followed Aizawa and Midnight out of the classroom. "I didn't do so badly," he affirmed, looking at the teacher, who was no longer in a yellow cocoon.

"It wasn't, but I could have avoided some conflicts," the tired man stated.

"Oh come on? I didn't start it." The albino responded with a pout.

The heroine next to Eraserhead nodded, "That's true, you have to give him credit for that, Eraser."

"I admit that, Bakugo is a bit much sometimes," the teacher said, taking a deep breath.

""A bit much" seems nice to me," the teenager couldn't help but think, but then suddenly he felt a tap on his shoulder.

Turning around, the boy saw Tenya Iida, standing next to a brown-haired girl and the boy with broccoli-green hair. "Yes?"

"Mr. Redgrave, as class president, it's my solemn duty to ask if you're familiar with the school's perimeter yet!" the young man said, waving his arms emphatically.

"I already told you to stop calling me 'Mr. Redgrave,'" he said first, then added, "No, I don't know the whole place."

He'd arrived there yesterday, and despite walking through a few hallways, seeing the infirmary, and even sleeping in the teacher's lounge, he hadn't really stopped to see the place, but he didn't really care.

But it seemed the class representative did. "This is unacceptable! Professor Aizawa, how could you let this pass?! I insist you come with me and my classmates!" he said, waving his hands. "Why does he do this?" the teenager thought.

"No need, man, it's fine," Tony said, waving his hand.

"No, Iida has a point," Aizawa said, interjecting himself into the conversation. "So much has happened that I let this pass." He looked at the albino with an amused look.

"What?" the teenager asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Iida, Uraraka, and Midoriya, please accompany Tony on a tour of the school and be nice to him." The professor asked with a mischievous smile that only the mercenary and Midnight could notice.

"This guy!" The teenager let out an irritated grunt when he realized what the man was doing.

"Don't be like that, Redgrave, socializing will be good for you," the heroine said, winking at Aizawa.

Tony looked at Midnight with an expression that mixed boredom, resignation, and a touch of desperation. He knew that, no matter how hard he tried, he wouldn't get out of this. The woman winked at him, clearly enjoying the situation, which only made the mercenary snort.

"Okay, right" he finally said with a sigh, shoving his hands in the front pocket of his black hoodie; he missed his red overcoat. "But if anyone tries to make me sing the school anthem or anything like that, I'll jump out the window," he added, looking seriously at the tired hero.

He wasn't kidding.

The girl, standing next to Iida, widened her eyes and let out a nervous giggle. "There's nothing like that, Tony! We're just going to show you the main sites. It'll be quick. It'll be fun! I promise."

The other boy, on the other hand, looked ready to explode with excitement. He stared at the albino boy with shining eyes, as if he were standing in front of a living legend. "It's such an honor to be able to show you U.A.! I still have so many questions about your position and—"

"Breathe, little guy," the mercenary cut him off, holding up a hand. "One step at a time, okay? First the tour, then the questions."

He stopped, blushing up to his ears, and nodded frantically. "Sorry, sorry! You're right!"

"Okay, okay," Tony said dismissively.

Iida cleared his throat loudly, drawing attention to himself.

"If everyone's done with the unnecessary digressions, we can proceed with the plan!" he said, adjusting his glasses and gesturing so energetically that the albino had to hold back a laugh. "Follow me! Our first destination will be the Beta training camp!"

"Beta camp?" the boy repeated, arching an eyebrow. "Sounds like the name of a bad movie."

Chapter Text

They began walking down the halls, with Iida marching ahead like a general, Uraraka at his side, thinking of how to strike up a conversation, and Midoriya behind, still furtively observing every detail of the guitar case Tony carried.

"So, Tony, huh? My name is Ochaco Uraraka!" the girl began, smiling amiably. "Do you really play guitar, or?"

"I kown how to play guitar." It wasn't a lie; he really did know how to play the guitar; he just didn't mention that what was inside the case was a thousand-year-old sword, not a musical instrument.

In his defense, the girl only asked if he knew how to play the guitar, not if it was a guitar inside the case.

Details.

"That's cool!" She said, clapping her hands.

"It's actually pretty cool, Tony! My name is Izuku Midoriya!" The green-haired boy joined the girl, walking beside her while jotting something down in a notebook.

"I guess? Just don't ask me to play, Aizawa would eat my liver if I made a mess here," the young albino said, hoping they'd change the subject. But he didn't need to hope for much because they soon reached their destination.

When they reached the Beta camp, Tony stopped and whistled softly. The space was gigantic, almost like an entire city reconstructed within the campus. Fake buildings, streets, cars, all designed to simulate real combat scenarios.

"Are you kidding me, all this inside a school?" the young man asked in disbelief.

"Of course!" Iida replied proudly. "That's where we do our most intense training! Here we test our Quirks in situations that mimic the real world!"

"Wow," the albino commented, rubbing his chin. "I guess that makes sense?" he said thoughtfully. Until he noticed himself looking at the class representative.

"You have a motor attached to your legs?" he said in shock.

"Oh yeah, that's my family's Quirk that I inherited too! It's called 'Engine'! Thanks to that, I can run at incredible speeds!" the boy said proudly, his glasses shining.

"And what happens when you get a leg cramp?" the teenager asked curiously.

"There's a special cream for that!" Iida said, nodding excitedly.

Tony nodded back, genuinely impressed, and then turned to the brown-haired girl. "I just discovered his, so I think it's only fair to ask about yours."

"Oh yeah! My quirk is "Zero Gravity"! I touch things and nullify their gravity! And by bringing my fingers together, I release it." She said with a proud tone.

"Zero Gravity! No way." The boy thought, stupefied. "Can you demonstrate?"

The girl sat down and picked up a rock from the ground, which promptly began to float, making Tony's eyes widen. "That's so fucking cool!"

"Language, Redgrave!" the bespectacled boy exclaimed.

The girl blushed at the compliment. "It's no big deal; if it's something too heavy, I'll end up throwing up," she said, a little downcast.

"It's still pretty cool," the mercenary said genuinely as the green boy waved emphatically at his side. "Can you touch my arm?"

"Redgrave! No!" Iida pointed.

"Relax, no one needs to know," he said with an amused smile as he linked arms with Uraraka, who then touched him.

He waited a second, and suddenly his white hair began to float, and his body followed shortly after.

He blinked a few times, staring at the ground, which was now too far away for his liking. "Okay... this is weird," Tony muttered, spinning slightly in the air like an astronaut out of control. "But it's weird in a fun way."

Midoriya watched in fascination, his eyes shining and his pen racing across his notebook as if he were going to jot down every detail of that moment. "This is truly amazing! Uraraka's Quirk completely reduces her effective body mass! This could be combined with high-speed jumps to-"

"Little bro!" the albino interrupted, floating upside down. "I know you want to turn this into a lesson, but I literally feel like a plastic bag in the wind here, okay?"

The girl started giggling softly, covering her mouth with her hand, while the class representative continued to be indignant. "Redgrave! It's not appropriate to use other people's quirks without a safety check! You could get seriously hurt!"

"I'll be fine, man! But thanks for your concern," he said before adding more quietly, "I think?"

"Do you want me to let you go now?!" Uraraka screamed.

"Wait!" The flying boy replied, flapping his arms as if he were swimming toward a spot near a streetlight. "Okay! Go for it!"

The girl hesitated a moment before doing so, but then she linked her fingers together. Suddenly, Redgrave felt gravity take over his body, and he began to fall.

The three students on the ground looked apprehensive, but then the mercenary grabbed the streetlight and did a little twirl before using it as a fireman's pipe and landing. "Very good," he declared with a whistle.

Midoriya practically glowed with excitement, his eyes wide as if he had just witnessed a historic feat. He scribbled frantically in his notebook, muttering to himself, "Precise movements, uncanny reflexes, no sign of hesitation upon landing. It's almost like he's had years of training in high-risk situations! This is… this is incredible!"

"Little bro," Tony tapped him on the shoulder, "you're talking to yourself."

This made the green-haired boy blush in embarrassment.

"He does that a lot, don't worry." The girl responded by patting her friend's shoulder. "You almost killed me for a second there, you know? I thought you were going to crash to the ground!" she said, laughing.

"Oh, relax," he said with a mischievous look. "If it had gone wrong, at most I would have broken about five ribs? And maybe my leg? No big deal." He finished, purposefully ignoring his regeneration.

"That's not funny, Redgrave!" Iida interjected, adjusting his glasses so tightly it looked like they were going to fly off. "Even though you have excellent reflexes, that was extremely irresponsible! If it had been any other student, they could have been seriously injured!"

"But it wasn't just any other student, man," the mercenary replied with a lazy smile, leaning against the pole he'd used to climb down. "It was me."

Iida opened his mouth to retort, but only sighed heavily, giving up. Uraraka exchanged an amused glance with Midoriya, and they both began to chuckle softly.

Looking at the green-haired boy, Tony pointed at him. "And your quirk, little guy? What is it?"

The boy blinked a few times, as if he hadn't expected the question. For a moment, it seemed like the boy had locked eyes wide, his mouth half-open, and the pencil poised in midair. He looked around, as if searching for a way out. This made the albino frown.

"You don't have to say anything if you don't want to, I won't take it personally, relax," he said, looking at the boy understandingly.

The green-haired boy seemed to relax a bit, shaking his head and scratching the back of his neck. "It's just that my quirk is a bit complicated. I don't have full control of it yet."

"Control? You go around beating people up and destroying everything?" the mercenary asked, but his tone was nonjudgmental and actually curious.

"No, no, it's not like that!" Midoriya waved his hands, almost stumbling over his own words. "It's just that when I use it all at once, my body can't handle the full load of energy and… well, I kind of break my own bones."

"You what?" "What a horrible quirk, poor thing," the mercenary thought, his eyes widening.

"Yeah, Midoriya here even had a problem with Professor Aizawa over it," Uraraka explained, patting his friend on the back.

"I'll ask him about that later," Tony made a mental note.

The albino was silent for another second, just staring at the disheveled-haired boy. Then he whistled softly. "You break your own body to hit harder? Is that it?"

The green-haired boy nodded shyly, a little embarrassed.

"Wow, little bro," the young man commented, crossing his arms. "That's insane. Kind of stupid too, but insane. I can respect that."

Midoriya blinked a few times, surprised by the choice of words, but a small smile escaped. It was rare for someone to speak of his quirk like that without pity, without exaggeration, just a direct statement.

"Thanks, I'm trying to improve my control," he said, the boy nodding determinedly. "I still have a lot of practice to do to be able to use it without hurting myself..."

"Well, I'll just ask that you don't try to kill yourself in front of me, okay?" Tony said, approaching him and patting the shorter boy on the shoulder.

"And where do you want to go now?" the albino asked.

"There's the library!" Iida stated, adjusting his glasses.

"Booooriiiing, how about you guys show me where the cafeteria is here?" the young mercenary asked. He wasn't hungry after breakfast, but he could use a sweet treat. Strawberry if they had one. And ice cream. Or a pizza, what are the chances of having pizza here?

"Sure! Follow me! And we can stop by the library on the way!" the class representative said, quickening his pace.

But Midoriya seemed lost in his own head until, as they walked, he finally found the courage to ask. "What about you, Tony? What's your quirk?"

That made the mercenary stop.

He should have known this question would come to him.

The three teenagers looked at him hopefully, the green-haired one especially, his eyes sparkling.

"Oh, damn, I have to think of something fast." He thought, trying to form an idea in his head. When finally, one came.

"Jackpot!" the albino exclaimed.

"What?" the three students asked at once.

"It's the name of my quirk, Jackpot!" the boy said, proud of his creativity.

Maybe he wasn't very creative, but he still thought of it in record time.

Midoriya began writing quickly in his notebook while whispering something.

"And what does it do?" Iida decided to ask.

"Do you remember how cool I was falling from that height?" the young man said improvisingly.

The three teenagers nodded in unison. "Oh, great, now they're a collective consciousness." The mercenary scoffed in his head.

"So basically, the cooler and more stylish I am, the more things I can do," he said, Tony spouting what he thought was a load of nonsense, because that didn't explain the other part of his abilities, like regeneration and instant weapon mastery.

But that was what he'd managed to come up with on the spot.

"That's amazing!! Does it have a limit? How do you know it's active? Or is it active all the time? Does it change your appearance?" The green-haired boy began to ask, fascinated, his eyes shining.

"There he goes again," Tony thought, staring at Midoriya, as if he were staring at an alien who had just landed on Earth. The green-haired boy fired off questions so fast it was impossible to answer any of them, even if he had answers.

Which he doesn't.

"Dude, breathe," the mercenary said, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender as Uraraka patted his classmate on the back. "You're asking questions I don't even know how to answer." He decided to be partially honest about it.

The student froze for a moment, blinking several times, until he slowly lowered his notebook, with an expression of someone who had just seen logic explode into pieces. "You, don't you know how your quirk completely works?"

The mercenary smirked, crossing his arms and tilting his head slightly. "I don't know, I have no idea, and I don't care. It works, and that's enough for me."

The girl put a hand to her mouth, trying to hold back a laugh, but failed. Iida, on the other hand, looked completely indignant. "That's incredibly irresponsible, Redgrave! A U.A. student should know every detail of their abilities! Not knowing the limits of your quirk could put you and others in danger!"

"It's a good thing I'm not a student," the only one not wearing a uniform said in a tone without venom, "and I don't intend to be."

This made the green-haired boy think. "Why are you Professor Aizawa's assistant if you don't like it here? If you don't mind answering, of course!" The question had an innocent tone.

"I wondered that too," the girl in the group said, also curious.

This made Tony glance at the amulet around his neck for a second. "You could say my home situation isn't the best at the moment." That wasn't the reason Professor Eraserhead had insisted on taking him in, but it had been the reason he'd accepted.

Uraraka frowned a little, clearly worried, but didn't insist. Midoriya, however, continued to stare at Tony with a mixture of curiosity and empathy, his notebook still open but his pen still. Iida seemed to freeze for a moment.

"What a strange reaction," the mercenary thought.

"Ah... sorry, I shouldn't have asked," the green boy said, scratching the back of his neck and looking away.

The boy gave a half-smile, patting him lightly on the shoulder. "Relax, little bro. You meant well. There are just some things you can't explain in a few words, you know?"

"Let's lighten the mood by going to the cafeteria, okay? Whoever loses buys me dessert!" he said, sprinting ahead.

"No running in the halls, Redgrave! And you don't even know where this is-this is supposed to be a tour!" the class representative emphasized.

"I'll find out!!" the other replied from a distance.

"Come on, Deku!! I don't want to be last!" the girl said, starting to run, Midoriya close behind.

"Not you two either!" Iida said before breaking into a brisk walk.

Little did the teenagers know that a tired figure was eavesdropping and listening to their conversation.

Entering the teachers lounge with his discoveries still weighing on his mind, Aizawa went straight to make himself some coffee.

He was going to need a strong one.

He had discreetly followed the group since leaving the room, not out of suspicion, exactly, but because he'd imagined something like this would happen. That Midoriya would probably ask a question that would make Tony talk a little more than he normally would.

The teenager wouldn't answer any of his questions directly, so this was the best way for him to find out.

Well, Aizawa did find out.

"Jackpot," huh?

The teacher sighed softly, crossing his arms. He'd known from the start that Tony wasn't ordinary. There was no record of him in the japanese database, and every tourist had one with their quirk, and there weren't any recorded abilities that fit the improvised description the boy had just invented; he would know. Still, he had to admit: the boy managed to sell the lie with absurd confidence.

"The cooler and more stylish, the more things I can do…" He almost rolled his eyes. "What a lame excuse."

But there was something bothering Aizawa beyond the obvious fabrication. He noticed the hesitation in Tony's gaze before answering, the carefulness with his words. This wasn't just someone hiding a trick, it was someone hiding an entire story.

But that wasn't what caught Aizawa's attention, certainly not.

"You could say my home situation isn't the best at the moment."

These words echoed in the teacher's head like a bell. It was obvious that the boy's situation was unusual, something he'd understood from the start.

The "demons" were just the tip of the iceberg. The finite amount of things, the lack of identity, the total of zero mentions of his parents, not to mention the teenager's outburst when Principal Nezu mentioned it, the fact that he went to places that "didn't appreciate the presence of heroes," the way he fought, the nightmare in the car, and the boy's reaction when pressed against the wall.

"Could his parents be villains?" It wasn't impossible.

The teacher closed his eyes for a moment, processing. He'd known from the start that Tony had no family present, but hearing the boy admit, even vaguely, that his relationship with home was problematic, confirmed a long-held suspicion. He didn't want to talk about it. He didn't want to bond. He didn't want to open up.

And that explained a lot about his behavior: his exaggerated self-sufficiency, his mocking manner, his constant habit of avoiding answering direct questions. It was pure self-defense. The boy wasn't just closed off, he was a safe, impossible to open unless he wanted to.

Aizawa let out a small sigh, adjusting the capture strap on his shoulder. He knew this type of student. He'd seen dozens like them: the ones who hide their wounds behind sarcasm, the ones who lie reflexively, the ones who try to make the world believe they don't need anyone.

But Tony wasn't a student. Not officially.

That complicated everything.

The teacher knew the boy had the potential to be a problem, but at the same time, seeing how he fit in with Midoriya, Uraraka, and even Iida, even though he mocked the latter mercilessly, he wasn't a bad kid.

A bad kid wouldn't be here right now.

He sighed again when the coffee machine beeped, signaling the coffee was ready. There was no point in confronting him now. Tony didn't respond well to direct pressure; he withdrew even further.

"Jackpot, demons, complicated house, zero records, and a giant sword," the man muttered to himself. "This is going to be a headache."

Deep down, he knew he should report everything to management and the commission, but he couldn't. Not yet. Not when the boy had just begun to trust him, even if it was just a little. And, more than that, he felt that if he made a mistake, if he forced Tony to talk, he might lose him completely.

The coffee was quite bitter.

"Perfect," the man thought. He took a long sip and let the liquid slide down his throat, trying to gather his thoughts.

He wondered how someone like that boy could remain so calm and confident in the face of everything. Even when facing literal demons.

The way he joked, teased the students, and at the same time hid entire layers of himself. It was almost irritating. But Aizawa knew this kind of behavior. He'd seen teenagers like that before, but rarely had an outsider, someone not officially a student, been able to move among them so naturally.

The teacher looked out the window of the staff room, the world outside going about its normal routine, oblivious to the complexity of that boy hidden inside U.A. He thought about the other students, how impressed Midoriya was, how Uraraka reacted, and how Iida, despite being bossy, seemed happy to be participating, trying to balance empathy with concern. Tony had charisma, but he was dangerous not because of what he could do, but because of what he carried inside.

Aizawa sighed again, taking another sip of the especially bitter coffee. He knew he should keep an eye on him, discreetly, of course. And the boy, as playful and mocking as he was, wasn't just a curiosity. He needed someone attentive, someone who could spot signs others might miss.

The U.A. professor leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms, and allowed himself a moment of silence. He thought of the amulet around the teenager's neck, the way he'd clutched it in the car yesterday, his face paler than usual, as if it were the only thing capable of providing him with a semblance of comfort at that moment. He thought of the sword, which he'd made a point of carrying everywhere with him at school.

Another sip of coffee, another sigh. Aizawa closed his eyes for a moment and muttered to himself, "We'll have to be careful with you, kid. More than I thought."

He knew this day wouldn't end with just coffee and observations; it would be the beginning of something that would require patience, attention, and, above all, discretion. Tony couldn't know he was worried.

Not yet.

Aizawa was still leaning back in his chair, savoring his hot coffee, when he heard light footsteps approaching down the hallway to the staff room. He remained still, his eyes half-closed, attentive but unmoving.

Tony crept in, carrying a small tray with some desserts: a piece of iced strawberry cake, a cookie, and a tiny pudding. As he entered, he bumped into the teacher and gave him a wicked smile.

"Gravedigger face, look what I made one of your students buy for me?" He said proudly, "That Iida guy lost because he refused to run in the hallways; it was funny." He chuckled as he sat down on the other side of the table.

The man only raised his eyes, keeping his expression neutral, as Tony approached the table with the dessert tray.

"And why did you come here?" the teacher asked, his voice clear.

"Because the kids had another class and I didn't want to watch this one, and since you weren't there, I came here." The boy explained, starting to open the strawberry cake package. It wasn't a sundae, but it was the closest thing they had in the cafeteria.

Ersehead continued to stare at him, motionless, but observing the boy's every move.

"Okay," he said, his voice low, almost drawling, unhurried. "Do you want to share, or do you just want to show me the conquests you've made over my students?"

"I'll let you have the pudding if you want, but the cake and the cookie are mine," the albino said, pushing the tray toward the man. "Although, I don't know if pudding and coffee go well together, but that's not my problem," he said, taking a bite of the cake.

"A little dry, but I think it's fine for a school cafeteria." Tony concluded, speaking with his mouth full.

"Coffee and pudding aren't a good combination," the teacher said, but he took the pudding, "but I'll have it anyway."

"All you want," the mercenary said, focused on the cake. "You should get the cafeteria here to start making strawberry sundaes."

"Strawberry sundaes?" The teacher arched an eyebrow at that.

"It's a much more sophisticated dessert. And pizzas too, but without olives," the boy said, making a disgusted face.

"I'm just a teacher, brat, I don't have the power to do that," the pro hero said, trying not to smile.

"But you seem like friends with the principal, you convince him." The boy pointed it out as if it were a fact as he ate the last piece of strawberry cake.

"That's not how it works, Redgrave." Aizawa shook his head at the boy's idea. Putting sundaes in the school menu, there was already a pizza day but he decided to keep that information to himself.

As he picked up the chocolate chip cookie, Tony grimaced. "You don't seem very impressed by my achievements."

"Not all achievements deserve a reaction," the teacher replied, opening the pudding and picking up a spoon from the table. "But some can be interesting."

The boy frowned, trying to decipher if that was praise or just apathy. "Interesting, huh?" he repeated, biting into the cookie now. "Okay, I'll take it as a compliment then."

The chocolate chip cookie was also dry, but again better than he'd expected from a school cafeteria. "Congratulations, U.A, at least you're good at this."

Eraserhead ate a spoonful of pudding. "It's not a compliment. Just an observation." He replied in a neutral tone.

Tony smirked, pleased with the vague answer, as if it were a riddle he enjoyed trying to decipher; he'd always liked puzzles.

"So that's why you always seem silent, just staring. Like a cat," the boy commented, trying to make conversation, but without pressure. "Always attentive, but never really engaging."

"Cats are efficient too," Aizawa said, finally looking at the boy, his eyes narrowed. "They observe more than they act."

The boy shrugged, seemingly satisfied, and went back to eating his cookie, but this time in silence, as if part of a tacit pact: the mercenary would allow himself to relax a bit, and the teacher would simply observe, without pressure.

Silence fell back into the room, broken only by the clink of the spoon in the pudding and Tony's subtle snort, satisfied with his small achievement.

At the end of the day, Tony finally got his red coat back; it was clean, stain-free, and smelling great. "They did a great job!" he exclaimed as he pulled it on over his sweater.

"Won't it be hot under all this?" the pink girl, whose name was Mina Ashido, he'd later learned from Aizawa, asked.

"Nah, it's no problem," he said as he slung the guitar case back over his shoulders.

"If you insist, bye, Tony!" she exclaimed, leaving the room with a wave.

"Get these papers for me," came the tired teacher's voice from the door.

"Not me! You have two working arms for that," the boy exclaimed, grimacing.

"You're the assistant, so do assistant things," Eraserhead pointed out, as always with perfect logic.

Tony snorted, but picked up the papers and began walking beside the teacher down the school hallway.

"Hey, Aizawa?" the boy asked without looking at the teacher's face.

The teacher kept his pace, his eyes narrowed, and replied only with a "Hmm?"

"Where am I going now?"

This caught the dark-haired adult off guard; the teenager still wasn't looking at him as he continued, "I mean, we got the things from the hotel I was staying at, so I'm asking, what's your plan?"

"You're going to live with me, kid, for now at least. After all, you're in my custody for now," the hero replied after a moment.

"What?! You're really going to let me stay with you?" Tony looked at him wide-eyed.

"Yes, it's best for now. Your things are in my car already," the man said, his expression weary, but his eyes were kind.

"That… was kind of obvious. I should have thought of that possibility sooner," the teenager admitted.

It wouldn't be the first time he'd stayed at someone else's house; he'd slept on the old lady's and Grue's couches more than once, especially in the winter. But it would be the first time someone he barely knew had allowed something like that.

Tony shook his head, trying to keep from thinking about his acquaintances from back home. Did they think he was dead? Or were they looking for him?

He didn't know which option made him feel worse.

"Redgrave?" Aizawa snapped him out of his thoughts, making the mercenary mentally slap himself for the second time that day.

The teacher looked at him with a look of concern; the boy had suddenly gone pale.

"Sorry, I was just thinking about the mess I'm going to make in your apartment," the teenager said, deflecting any question Eraserhead might ask.

"And you'll have to clean up if you do. I don't have a big apartment, but I do have a guest room, and that's it." He said, not pressing on about the incident that had just occurred.

"Aren't you like a badass pro hero and a teacher at a badass school? How come you're not rich?" the albino asked in surprise.

"That's not how it works, kid," Aizawa replied, shaking his head.

Chapter Text

Shota Aizawa's car was exactly what Tony Redgrave expected. Black, unobtrusive, and despite a few disposable coffee cups, quite tidy. During the drive, the engine didn't make much noise.

The teenager in the passenger seat had his head leaning against the window, staring at the street, and every now and then he'd make random comments about the sights outside, like a big black cat he swore looked like the teacher driving.

"So, you live alone?" The boy decided to change the subject after the fifth death glare the man gave him.

"Yes," the man replied, keeping his eyes on the street, "it's nothing fancy, like I said."

"I think it suits you," the boy in the red trench coat said with a wicked smirk.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Eraserhead asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Nothing, nothing." The mercenary responded by raising his arms in surrender, but he had a smirk on his face.

A few minutes later, the car parked in front of a nondescript, inconspicuous building. The facade was simple, well-kept, but not flashy. Tony arched an eyebrow. "It's relatively close to school, makes sense," he thought.

"It's here," Aizawa declared. "You'll need these for now, they're the copies," the man said, handing the boy keys.

"Are you really going to give me your house key?" the mercenary asked, somewhat shocked.

"If you mess with this, I'll kick your ass, but for now, yes," the professor replied with his usual neutral tone.

"Hah, reminds me of the old-" Redgrave cut himself off before finishing that thought and abruptly getting out of the car. "Open the trunk!" he shouted, wanting to grab his things.

The pro hero did so before getting out of the car and opening the back door.

"Hey, I think I'd better carry my case, no problem." The boy interrupted, opening the other door and grabbing Rebellion's case before the professor could protest.

"Okay then," the tired professor replied with a sigh. Instead, he decided to grab some papers from the backseat and some bags containing teen's belongings.

Entering the building, Eraserhead stopped at the doorman for a few minutes to explain that this was his foreign nephew who had come to stay with him for a while. The teenager shook his head with a mocking smile when he saw the pro hero lie, but decided not to comment.

The doorman seemed friendly and welcomed the albino, who responded with a simple handshake.

After they entered the building, the elevator rose silently to the fifteenth floor. It wasn't the top floor, but it was higher than anywhere else the boy in red had stayed.

"So this is your 'castle,' huh?" Tony said as the elevator door opened and he found himself in a small hallway. "Nothing fancy, but comfortable, from what I can see."

"Comfortable enough," Aizawa replied, his voice calm. He carried his bags steadily, showing no sign of irritation at the boy's comment.

As they entered the apartment, the boy dropped his bags on the floor and began exploring. Every detail seemed intriguing to him: the simple arrangement of the furniture, the books lined up on the bookshelf, the mug of cold coffee on the coffee table, the strange cat-shaped rug under the coffee table that made him chuckle a little in amusement. "This is the fanciest place I've been in a long time," he couldn't help but think.

"Take off your shoes!" the teacher said with a look that could have shot daggers. The teenager promptly returned to the entryway and did so.

"Hm… I could get used to this," the teenager muttered, putting his guitar case in the corner and sitting on the gray sofa.

"You got the copies of my keys, Redgrave." The adult pointed, picking up the bags and placing them on the kitchen counter facing the couch. "But that doesn't mean you can do whatever you want."

The albino raised his hands in surrender. "I know, I know. I promise not to bring any shit into your house," he said, but in a sincere tone.

Aizawa nodded at that.

Tony smirked, satisfied with the answer, and leaned back a little on the couch. His shoulders relaxed, a rare sight. "So... is this how teachers live outside of school? Silence, order, coffee, and a constant frown?"

"It's not a museum for your jokes, Redgrave," Eraserhead said, but there was a slight hint of amusement in his voice that almost went unnoticed by the boy.

Almost.

The teenager laughed, the sound echoing through the apartment, and finally settled down. "This could be fun for a little while."

The silence that followed wasn't heavy, but comfortable, as if the space had found its own rhythm with the two of them present.

Tony watched the professor's every move, and despite all his teasing, there was a trace of something else in his eyes.

Tony looked tired, but his body still displayed that natural restlessness, as if he were always ready to get up and leave at any moment. And he was, if necessary.

It didn't seem like it would be for a while, but it was always good to be reassured.

"Are you going to sleep here on the couch or do you want to try the guest room?" Aizawa asked, his voice calm, almost slurred. He watched the boy from across the room, still holding a cup of coffee he'd brought from the kitchen after putting the teenager's bags of things in the room in question.

"Hmm… the couch sounds good," the albino replied, stretching. "But I don't know if I'll be able to sleep well." He replied, not realizing his eyes were already closed.

A few minutes later, the teenager began to doze off, but his body still twitched slightly, a reflection of sleepless nights and dangerous habits. Aizawa remained seated in the armchair next to the sofa, his eyes half-closed, watching the boy's every breath. He knew any slip-up could be serious. Tony still wasn't completely trustworthy, and the boy didn't completely trust him either, and being alone in the apartment could lead him to test boundaries he shouldn't.

As the night wore on, the teenager stirred, mumbling something incomprehensible about shadows and voices. Aizawa, without moving, simply adjusted a blanket over him, partially covering Redgrave's shoulders, before heading to his own room.

And so they continued and the days went by.

It wasn't long before Tony bumped into Bakugo again after noticing him interacting with Midoriya. The explosive boy then began challenging the newcomer with sarcastic comments about the albino's mocking attitude, teasing him about his "overconfidence," and the mercenary always made a point of returning the insult, but the nickname "slenderman" was the last straw for the albino.

He didn't know what a "slenderman" was at first, but Mina showed him a picture of the thing on her phone.

The audacity of this chihuahua.

"Who do you think you are, slenderman?" Katsuki said, unleashing his quirk after the other teenager lightly shoved him.

"Kacchan, stop it!" the green-haired boy said, wanting his friend to stop bothering his new friend.

"Shut up, you chihuahua with anger issues!" the albino teenager replied, feeling his hands itch a little.

"Tony!" The green boy tried to interrupt.

The situation only stopped from escalating into a physical confrontation thanks to Aizawa's intervention, separating them with his typical authoritative calm.

Two days after moving into Professor Aizawa's apartment, Tony was in the staff room trying to catch what would be his second nap of the day. Mid-morning light streamed in through the tall windows, reflecting off the floor and neatly arranged desks, but he seemed oblivious to it all, his chin resting on his crossed arms on the desk.

It was then that a sudden loud bang of the door slamming against the wall, followed by a "GOOD MORNING!", made the teenager nearly fall out of his chair, his eyes wide.

He was about to yell at whoever had caused such a scene when he stopped and saw a very muscular, tall, blond man with spiky hair. "Oh! I know you!" He remembered the little research he'd done less than a week ago when he'd first arrived here.

It seemed much longer ago now.

The albino blinked a few times, still trying to process the scene before him. The man at the door looked more like a force of nature than a real person. The blue uniform, the gold and red details, the wide smile, and the impeccable posture all screamed "symbol of peace."

"You know me! I'm glad to hear that, young man! I think I've heard of you too!" The man said, entering with an unusually light manner for someone with so much muscle. "You're the boy Professor Eraserhead took care of after that chaos in Shibuya, aren't you?"

This made the boy grimace. Oh, how the mighty has fallen.

"Yeah, that's me," he said resignedly, "Call me Tony."

With a bright smile, All Might took one of the albino teenager's hands and shook it. "Nice to meet you, young Tony! I hope you're enjoying it here."

The mercenary just shrugged.

"Come on, be more energetic and say Plus Ultra!" The peace symbol said, raising his hand in a fist.

"Yeah, I'm not going to say that," Tony said, sitting back down in his chair.

"You need a cell phone, kid," the hero Eraserhead said, after Tony returned from one of his nighttime walks.

He didn't do anything unusual on those walks, okay?

Sometimes he needed some fresh air (well, at least as fresh as it gets in Japan) and maybe he'd have a drink or two, but not too much.

Nothing major, definitely the most peaceful life he'd led in years.

So he grimaced at the idea.

"No need, I'll just end up breaking it by accident and you'll have wasted your money." He gestured, taking off his shoes and going to the kitchen to get a glass of water.

Tony drank quickly, feeling the liquid cool his dry throat. The house was silent, only the low hum of the refrigerator filling the space. He leaned against the counter, still absorbing the idea that he now had a nice place like this to stay, even if it was temporary.

"It's just a cell phone, not a spy device," Aizawa retorted. "And there's no point in saying it would be wasted money because I already bought one."

"What!?" The teenager said, spitting water and nearly choking in the process. "You shouldn't have done that. I don't want it. I'm not going to pay you back when it inevitably breaks!"

"You don't have to pay me back," the teacher said, arching his eyebrow.

Setting the glass down on the counter, the albino grimaced. "Good thing, because I wasn't going to anyway, fish face."

Still arching his eyebrow, the teacher continued. "If you break it, it'll be your problem, but you don't have to pay me back." He said again, getting up from the couch and placing a box on the kitchen table.

It was a thin, red device with buttons on the side and a screen that covered the entire thing. Tony looked at the thing as if offended by it and huffed, crossing his arms and leaning against the counter. "Oh, great. Now, I'll have to deal with technology I don't even know how to use properly, perfect."

"You better learn fast then, or you'll be screwed when it comes to warning anyone," the pro hero said honestly.

The mercenary clicked his tongue, but something in Aizawa's tone made him bite his tongue. He knew further protest would be futile. So he sighed, picked up the phone, and began to tap on it, still grumbling about how the device "wasn't made for someone like him."

It was a normal day. Tony was walking to school with Aizawa this time. It wasn't that far, so it was okay, but it was still too early to think anything of it.

"Huh?" he said when he finally noticed he was no longer in the teacher's presence.

He took a few steps back to try to find the man and found him crouched beside an alley. "What's he doing?" he asked, tilting his head curiously.

As he approached, he saw the pro hero in front of a box, a box containing two kittens. The tired man was... feeding them milk from a small bottle.

"When I said heroes seemed to spend too much time saving cats, I was being sarcastic," Tony said, blinking as he watched the scene. "They're actually cute…"

"Are you really giving milk to stray cats?" he asked curiously.

Aizawa looked up slowly, as if caught red-handed, but instead of pushing the kittens away or feigning indifference, he simply continued calmly holding the bottle. One of the kittens, unsteady on its paws, was trying to reach his hand, meowing softly.

"They didn't ask to be born here," he replied dryly, as if it were the most obvious explanation in the world. "If I don't do something, they won't last the week."

The mercenary let out a short laugh, then crouched down beside the teacher. "Damn... the terror of the classroom and villains, the pro hero Eraserhead, doubled by two little furry creatures who barely know how to open their eyes. I'm going to tell all your students."

"You won't tell anything," Aizawa replied without changing his expression, but there was a hint of playful threat in his voice.

It was then that Tony tried to pet one of the kittens, but all it got was a small hiss and a tentative scratch. He should have expected this, animals don't like him very much. He quickly pulled his hand back.

When he looked to the side, he noticed the teacher was looking at him with that hard-to-read expression. "They must know I prefer dogs," the teenager said with a sarcastic smile.

Aizawa's gaze narrowed a bit at this, but then he noticed the milk bottle was already empty and stood up. "Come on, or I'll be late," he said as he started walking.

The teenager caught up quickly. "You seem to like cats, why don't you have one?" he asked genuinely.

"I don't spend enough time at home to take care of one fully," Eraserhead replied honestly.

"Oh, that's a shame."

Tony had agreed to go to the cafeteria with Midoriya, Uraraka, and Iida at lunchtime instead of hiding in the staff room like he'd been doing for the past four days. The idea of ​​socializing with teenagers didn't appeal to him much; there was no need to mention that he was a teenager too.

It was different.

The albino grabbed one of the available trays and started walking around, looking at what was available when he stopped.

Pizza.

There was pizza in the cafeteria.

The world seemed to slow down and the sounds muffled when he noticed it right there. Pepperoni pizzas, and none of them had olives.

It had been almost a week since he'd eaten his last pizza.

The mercenary's eyes lit up for a brief second, and his moment was interrupted by a certain chihuahua yelling that he was holding up the line. "You can try, chihuahua, but today I'm in my happy place." He quickly composed himself, trying to appear indifferent. He took four slices as if he didn't want anything, but in reality, he was celebrating inside.

"Do you like pizza, Tony?" the green-haired boy asked as he took two slices himself.

"Pizza is one of the only good things left in life, kid. If anyone ever tells you otherwise, don't trust them." The other teenager quickly replied.

The girl giggled, and the class representative adjusted his glasses, a little confused. "I didn't know you had a pizza-based philosophy," he commented, trying to sound neutral.

"It's not philosophy, Iida," he stopped to sit at a table, "it's common sense." The teenager added as he finally bit into the first slice, looking at it like he was reuniting with an old friend. "It's not the best I've ever had, but it's pretty good," he muttered to himself, but loud enough for the others to hear.

This caused the other members of the group to chuckle collectively.

Tony was returning from the staff room to Classroom 1A when he saw a large commotion at the classroom door. A group of students were gathered, voices mingling in a tense murmur. The albino arched an eyebrow, balancing a can of soda in his hand as he approached slowly.

"What the hell is this? The cafeteria cake isn't all of that to start a fight over it," he muttered as he approached the small chaos.

When he finally got closer to the door, the albino saw a boy with messy purple hair and a sleepy look standing before the class. His expression was calm, but there was a strange weight in the air, as if every word carried a veiled threat.

The young man's eyes widened at the sight of this particular boy. "There's no way this guy isn't at least related to Aizawa, he has the same fishy face!"

"I really came to check on the kids here," the boy said, his voice low but firm. "Don't you think you got lucky?"

The murmuring stopped for a moment. Midoriya, who was a little further back, blinked in confusion, and Iida immediately adjusted his glasses, already assuming a defensive posture. Bakugo, on the other hand, was staring at the boy with a death stare

"What's up, you loser?" Katsuki retorted, his fists shaking.

"There are a lot of students who end up in the general education department or other departments because they didn't get into the hero one."

Tony thought about this. As he sipped his soda, he admitted he couldn't care less about how the japanese hero school worked, and he didn't even know there were other departments here.

It seems he wasn't the only one who was like this. But in his defense, he didn't even care enough about the hero departament to begin with. But then again, he couldn't care less; the only thing that really mattered to him and was ruining his sleep was the lack of demon attacks since Shibuya.

After a major attack against him, the demons always took a little longer to regroup; normally, the albino would be enjoying his free time. But the fact that someone was out there capturing demons and pairing them with those Nomus put a sinking feeling in the mercenary's stomach.

He hoped whoever was doing this was simply out of raw materials, aka demons to use, and not that this delay was the prelude to something bigger. He mused as he unconsciously clutched the amulet to his chest.

It was when the purple-haired boy began walking forward that he snapped out of his head and realized he'd missed a large part of the boy's speech. "Hey, how about I knock some heroic children off their white horses. Consider this a declaration of war."

"Why are there so many edgy teenagers here?" Tony wondered, rolling his eyes, but he decided it was time to break the war-like atmosphere a bit before Katsuki had an aneurysm.

"Wow, what an inspiring speech. I almost felt like standing up and applauding," he said, entering the room and throwing the empty soda can in the trash. "But I'll give you some advice, purple: if you want to make an impact, start by toning down the drama. Otherwise, you'll just look like you're trying to be a villain in a cheap movie."

A few students from 1-A stifled giggles. The boy looked away from him. "Who are you?" he asked, his voice still calm, but with a slight edge of challenge.

"Tony Redgrave. Aizawa's assistant, part-time problem child, full-time genius," he said, approaching the door, crossing his arms. "And before you ask and launch into an elaborate speech, no, I'm not in hero school, so keep it to yourself. I couldn't care less about the departament, actually."

Bakugo snorted. Midoriya tried to say something, but the purple-haired boy simply tilted his head, studying Tony for a second longer. Then, without another word, he turned and walked out of the hallway, leaving behind a trail of tension and exchanged glances.

"Definitely Aizawa's, oh god. Why isn't he living with him? Did he lose custody in a bad divorce, too?" He couldn't help but think; he would confront the teacher about this later.

The mercenary watched him leave, clicking his tongue. "This guy might have potential," he said quietly, almost to himself. "But... someone should teach him that walking into a room spewing threats and declaring a war isn't exactly the quickest way to make friends, from personal experience."

Bakugo huffed again, crossing his arms. "I'm going to beat him at the festival."

Tony smirked, kicking Bakugo's chair lightly. "Good luck, chihuahua. Just don't blow up half the school in the process."

"Tony!" the green-haired boy shouted from behind.

Half the room burst into muffled laughter; the sports festival was going to be a little bit nicer than the albino had imagined.

The end of the day was silent in Aizawa's apartment. Tony was sprawled on the couch, a half-empty bottle of soda in his hand and the Rebellion propped up in the corner of the room. The professor sat at the desk, reviewing some papers. The only sound came from the ticking clock and the low hum of the refrigerator.

The boy twisted the bottle cap in his fingers, thoughtful, until he decided to blurt out what had been on his mind since earlier. "So, you have a son," he said quickly, as if ripping off a band-aid.

The professor stopped writing, slowly looking up, his expression impassive as ever. "What are you talking about, Redgrave?"

"Don't give me that," the teenager pointed with the bottle, his tone mocking. "That kid with the purple hair, the look like he hasn't slept in three days, and the "if you piss me off I'll ruin your life" vibe. His face is identical to yours. The way he talks, the dead fish look, even the "I don't want to be here" attitude. There's no way to convince me he's not your kid. The way he just kept looking at me, JUST like you."

Aizawa let out a long sigh. "I don't have children, Tony."

The boy arched an eyebrow at that. "Yeah, and I'm a responsible citizen who pays taxes."

"I'm serious," the professor said, his tone a little firmer. "He's just a student in another course."

Redgrave frowned, still suspicious, and took another sip of his soda. "I don't know about that…"

"Don't make shit up, Redgrave." Aizawa focused back on his papers. "And stop making conspiracy theories."

Tony stared at him for a few seconds, narrowing his eyes. "Hm. Okay. He's not your son."

"…But if he turns out to be, I want to be the first one called to family dinner," the boy added, with a mischievous smile.

The professor just let out a long sigh and went back to writing, completely ignoring the comment.

"Go to sleep, Redgrave."