family // bnha

thirty-five

Midoriya Hisashi stood in a worn-out bar, eyeing the other occupants with a gruff expression. He was here upon the request of a favor done to him a couple of months ago by an anonymous couple.

They didn't stay anonymous for long, there being a particular connection between the 3 adults that had to add a so-called 'underground' hero that's face was plastered on almost every newspaper and station. 

He couldn't refuse the offer. An all problems dealt with trip out of prison and all he had to do was join the supposed League of Villains, who'd gained a bit of popularity after the Stain incident with-

Hisashi rolled his eyes at the fact that his little stepdaughter had grown to what she was today. If he had any sense, he'd kidnap his own kid and get a good ransom out of her before he fled the country. 

But he couldn't focus on that right now, he had to focus on the meeting. 

Apparently, his 'saviors' had some close connections with this Shigaraki Tomura character. 

One look at him at Hisashi could tell he was nothing but a child in a big seat, but he shrugged, pulling a cigarette from behind his ear and lighting it with a blow from his mouth. 

He inhaled, and exhaled, carefully watching the scene. 

"Kurogiri, get rid of this guy," Shigaraki spoke, clearly uninterested in him. Hisashi only smirked a bit.  

"Now, now. They came all this way to visit, so let's at least hear him out Tomura," Kurogiri reasoned. 

"Plus, he was sent by some friends of Sensei's," Kurogiri whispered into Shigaraki's ear, making the man's red eyes widen before he quickly found Hisashi's eyes, the older man wearing a smirk as he breathed in the cigarette once more. 

"Then why aren't they here themselves?" Shigaraki grumbled, only a melodic chuckle to move through the room. 

Green mist suddenly became visible, and a woman with long green hair appeared behind a greenish transparent dome that had been hiding them. The woman was short(ish) and had glowing green eyes, a youthful face, and was wearing a tight black dress that loosened at her knees and flowed to the floor. 

As they stepped out of the bubble-like structure, the transparent mist dissipated with a wave of her finger. Her hair covered a side of her face, and from the angle, you could see the start of some burn scars. 

She had a smirk on her face and a deadly look in her eye. 

Everything about her reeked with death and had Shigaraki not had the upbringing he did, he would've been intimidated. 

But he was not. 

"Oh, we are," said the woman behind her a large man with a cocky smile on his face that went well with the other scars on his face. 

He was big, huge actually, almost head to toe in muscle. He had a bushel of curls on his head that was sitting on the top of his head in a bun, and ruby red eyes that shines brighter than Shigaraki's. 

He had a spray of freckles on his face, and in contrast to her the woman's elegantly tight black dress and 6-inch heels, he wore black cargo pants that hid knives and guns, he had long sleeves along his arms with most of his bare torso out, a small bit of fabric on his upper body. On his back, Shigaraki could see the start of a metal handle, that was so specific, Shigaraki had to assume it was a whip. 

"Sorry, my wife here likes to make an entrance," said the man, wearing an unsettling grin as he looked at Shigaraki. 

Shigaraki stilled as he stared at them, his hand reaching up to hastily scratch his neck, trying within all his might to lash out and dust something at the sudden newcomers.