Chapter Text
Izuku was casually typing away on his laptop in the dorms common area, when he heard Aizawa call his name.
„Midoriya, your father called to take you out for the weekend.”
The essay on the screen became a blur as his mind processed the implications of that sentence. He already reported this week to his father and while he didn’t include any particularly useful details, there was no new information he thought he should share, considering Vicious told him to lay low for a while, until the sports festival is over. His thoughts raced with the speed of Lightning McQueen for any slip-up, word or even a glance that could have given Vicious some doubt about his ‘undying loyalty’.
Maybe Masami went ahead and told Vicious after all… his heart rate climbed even higher at the thought, but he stopped himself short. No she would be just as fucked as I am. But still, there are a million other reasons Vicious would want to see him, none of them being “what a good boy you are Izuku, here, have a lollypop”.
Because it is him, who wants to see Izuku, not his father, that’s for fucking sure. Izuku almost scoffed at the thought of his father wanting to spend a father-son bonding weekend at some theme park eating cotton candy and… yeah not in a million years, if he can help it.
“Izuku?” Ren’s soft voice laced with an ample amount of concern pulls him out of his downward spiral and Izuku turns his head to him and Aizawa.
“S-sorry I’m just having trouble writing this part and I got lost in thought.” He himself winced at the weak excuse over his minor freak out but hopes Ren will take it and leave it at that.
“Well anyways, he’ll be here in half an hour,” Aizawa continued, then misinterpreting the horrified look on Izuku’s face, he rubbed his temple and sighed “Look, I know you are under a lot of pressure both from studying and the upcoming tournament but after what you been through, you and your father deserve some time together. I’m sure one weekend spent on something other than training is not going to hurt.” His voice is almost kind at those last words, which makes Izuku swallow away a lump in his throat he didn’t know was there.
“I better go get my stuff then.” Izuku tried to make his smile as genuine as he possibly could given this might be his last hour on planet earth. He scrambled to his feet and made a beeline to his room before Ren could even get the first syllables of his mandatory ‘Are you okay?’ out.
Once the door closed, he started pacing frantically in his room, not knowing if a heart attack or an aneurysm’s gonna kill him before Vicious gets to first. What’s his plan? Take him out for a whole weekend to have plenty of time getting rid of his body? No, he’s too valuable of an asset, he has no reason to get rid of him, not yet anyway…
An even uglier thought reared itss head in the back of Izuku’s frantic mind. What if he needs me to do something? It was naïve of him to think he could just live the carefree (and crime free) life of an undercover UA student, sometimes reporting barely useful information until his rouse is discovered and his days are up. Well not barely useful, it got the League of Villains into the school didn’t it? It got Aizawa sensei almost killed among many other students, his friends…
No. Not friends, not considering what he’s done to them, he doesn’t deserve to call them his friends, not with their blood on his hands.
There’s no point in guessing, he knows, but can’t help his racing mind as he makes his way down to Hisashi’s waiting car, carefully avoiding Ren, knowing he must feel his absolute panic from miles.
His father barely glanced at him before setting his eyes back on the road and turning the car to drive through an all too familiar route to the lair.
“I don’t suppose you know why I’m wanted on Friday night this suddenly?” Izuku tried to make his question seem as nonchalant as possible but failed miserably.
“Vicious asked for you, so I’m taking you, that’s all I know and all I care about.”
There was a bit of a nervous edge in Hisashi’s voice, but considering he’s talking about Vicious and that he has the integrity of a cup of Jell-O in Izuku’s eyes, that doesn’t tell him much, albeit it doesn’t make him want to jump out of the car window any less.
They arrived at the front entrance and Izuku got out on his own even though his legs are shaking like a chihuahua on cocaine. “Thanks for the ride,” he said sarcastically and Hisashi looked like he wants to say something, but after a moment seemingly decides against it. That’s what I thought. His father’s not even going to bother to say his son goodbye.
Walking to Vicious’s office feels like walking into a lion’s den on the best of days, but now it’s like an outer body experience. Izuku knocked on the door and prompted by a cheerful ‘come in’ he entered said den.
“Sorry to ruin your weekend plans like this,” said Vicious, lazily propping his head up with an elbow on his desk. His tone and posture was laid back but Izuku knew better than to take that at face value. Just because he seemed like a perfectly content lion, almost purring as he said those words, he’s a predator nonetheless. One that likes to play with his prey before he eats them. He surveyed the room, noting Masami’s absence. So, this isn’t an interrogation. Or maybe he sees no need for one. He tried to keep a neutral but respectful expression knowing full well Vicious can smell fear from the smallest of signs.
“Come on boy, what’s with that face, you should be celebrating after all” Celebrating? Izuku couldn’t think of one reason a visit to Vicious’s office would call for a celebration. “It’s your dream come true isn’t it? To be in the Hero course.”
Izuku choked on his breath as he tried to form some words of protest, but it felt like the air in the room has been replaced with something thick and slimy that makes it impossible to get any syllables out. His libs started to feel cold, he couldn’t move even if he wanted to. Right now it took up all his energy just to stay upright.
“You forgot to mention that in your weekly report now, didn’t you? Impressed your teachers soo much with your heroic acts of bravery during the attack, that they absolutely must have you amongst the young future heroes of the next generation”
“N-no I-I just- t-they just-“
“Or maybe, you offered them something they absolutely couldn’t resist. Information? My head on a silver platter perhaps? No, I know you just wouldn’t go that far, now would you? “Vicious slowly got up while talking, his smile still present but a cold glint in his eyes told Izuku all he needed to know.
He didn’t think to include the offer simply because it wasn’t going to become a reality. It’s not like he was going to make the cut anyways but a little bit of extra practice and attention from one of the heroes, -one that very much interests Vicious- wouldn’t hurt would it? Well, it would apparently. A lot.
He was going to tell him eventually, not like he purposefully withheld that information. But how has Vicious known? Does he have another spy in UA? Izuku found that unlikely given how hard getting one into UA has been. Do I have a bug on me? He felt sick at the thought of the man listening to every conversation he had with his classmates, teachers with All Might even no matter how brief and impersonal. But Izuku was pretty meticulous about checking regularly for anything of that sort. Growing up in a criminal organization, where the slightest misstep can mean the difference between life and a painful, painful death and everyone is just waiting for a chance to stab you in the back will do that to you. Although a knife in the back sounded pretty appealing right now, considering the alternative.
Vicious’s smile only widened as he casually strode over to Izuku, as if he knew what was running through the teen’s head right now. “Your sensei called your father to discuss your promotion with him and get his permission”
An unexpected flame of anger rose inside Izuku. Hisashi doesn’t have the right to decide anything about his life, he shouldn’t even be in his life in the first place.
“He was very excited of course and called me right away. Just like you should have done.”
Vicious finally arrived next to Izuku, smile still lingering on his face, body language open and as non-threatening as one can be. Izuku wished he had crooked teeth, scars, or something to justify the absolute terrifying aura this man had. But his face was almost angelic, not a wrinkle of disapproval, even his leisurely clothing and fading hair-dye suited him, giving the impression of a businessman going out for a few drinks after a long workday.
The flame was snuffed out quickly by the cold sweat beginning to break out all over Izuku’s body as a few fingers lightly grazed his shoulder. Vicious stood behind him now, and every cell in Izuku’s body screamed turn around, don’t let him behind you, runrunrun. But after years of playing this game, Izuku stayed put, trying to keep him in his peripheral, while carefully adjusting his body to be able to move away from his touch in an instant if necessary, knowing full well, he’s not going to.
Vicious put both hands on his shoulder, lightly massaging it like a coach would to his pupil before sending him back into the ring. “I was more than excited of course, this is a wonderful opportunity for you to infiltrate even deeper into UA’s inner circles! Never in a million years have I thought I could get one of my men into the hero course, a quirkless one at that. They wouldn’t have even accepted you into UA have they known you were a quirkless little runt, but under my guidance it seems like all of your dreams are coming true. The irony is thick here don’t you think?”
“W-wait you want me to get into the hero course?” For a moment, the surprise overcame the fear and Izuku couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This is why Vicious wanted him here? A text message would have sufficed, sparing him from a heart attack on a Friday night. Before he could stop himself he muttered “But then why-“
“Why have I dragged you out here, away from your very important hero duties?
“Th-that’s not w-what I-“
Izuku cut himself off but he knew he fucked up. Just like he fucked up in his mission somehow, giving Vicious the impression he was in over his head, too good to be some lowlife villain when; in reality, he wasn’t even good enough to be a pawn apparently. He had no idea how to remedy this situation. How did he ever think to outplay Vicious, save his mother and not end up in jail at the same time? He was walking a very tight rope already and with his two left feet, the fall was inevitable. To be honest he deserved whatever was coming to him, having failed everyone so miserably.
A light chuckle escaped Vicious’s lips behind his ears. His hands slowly, almost intimately, slid up to his neck, under his scarf, ever so lightly touching his skin. Izuku felt like ice water was trickling down his spine, his vision blurred at the edges and his heart rate climbed to impossible heights. He’s surely going to have a cardiac arrest one of these days. Not that many are left of those.
“I feel like a reminder is in order about our… your situation.” His breath was hot on his ears, but his tone was ice cold, “I’m sure at the academy, they filled your head up with honey sweet lies like ‘Everyone can be a hero’ and ‘what’s on the inside that counts’ and all that jazz.”
Vicious was gently guiding Izuku by his neck to the table in the back of the room. He didn’t put up any resistance, too focused on not letting his legs give out from under him.
“But I never lied to you son. You are a criminal with a more impressive track record than most of my employees could ever dream of. I gave you a job, told you the conditions and let you decide. Sure, you could run to them, play the hero for all you like but know this: at the end of the day, you’re just another criminal in their eyes. As soon as they have no use for you, they will get rid of you faster than you could say ‘I am here’.”
Izuku shuddered at the venom with which he said those three words but was even more horrified at the thought that Vicious might be right. He knew he deserved to rot in prison for all the things he did, but thinking about the faces of his classmates or teachers as they realize what an unforgivable scumbag he is, seeing the disappointment in Aizawa sensei’s eyes made his sting with the hot tears of shame. He quickly blinked them away, now is not the time to give in to those thoughts. He might not be able to do much in his current situation, but he owes it to everyone to at least die with some dignity. In the end, Vicious can do everything in his power to hurt him, but he’s not going to break him.
“Sure, I would get rid of you too, if you proved no longer useful to me, but I was always very clear on that front. And you always proved to me time and time again, that you are an irreplaceable asset. Not counting that oneslip-up of course, but everybody makes mistakes right? I’m just making sure you’re not making another one right now”
Izuku felt sick to his stomach, not knowing if it was because of the soft fingers on his neck or the praise for his crimes. But it was nothing compared to the dread he felt when he saw what was on the table in front of him.
Three photographs.
One of his mother -looking smaller, and more fragile than he remembered her, but with a content smile on her face- as she was talking to a blond haired lady, who Izuku was horrified to recognize as Bakugou’s mum.
The next one was of Mrs. Nakayama exiting her apartment with a few grocery bags, presumably before Izuku offered to do her shopping for her.
The last one was a family photo of a tall man and a woman with curly brown hair and soft features, holding a young girl and between them stood- Ren. Izuku thinks he’s going to throw up for real this time.
“Here’s what I’m going to do: I’m going to order you to get into the hero course. Make them think you’re good enough but don’t draw too much attention during the tournament yada, yada, I’m sure you know the drill by now. Then I’m going to give you a choice: you can choose to follow my orders or fail them. In which case I’m going to need you to choose who’s going to suffer the consequences of your actions.”
Vicious lovingly guided Izuku’s gaze with his fingers on his neck, down at the three pieces of paper.
“Choose”
Izuku could barely make out the faces in those photographs from the tears, but he can vividly imagine their expressions under Victoria’s strong and precise hands. Those images flash in his mind, getting mixed up with Ren’s warm smile, Mrs. Nakayama’s stern kindness as she gives him another serving of homemade soba, his mother’s hand stroking his hair… Then he sees them screaming, eyes wide with fear, pain and betrayal. He watches them get tortured in the harshly lit rooms of the basement and he can do nothing to help.
Because Vicious is going to make him watch. Make him watch the person he condemned succumb to a fate worse than death.
“No.”
He knew what was coming, only a small tingle to warn him before the searing hot pain exploded in his nape, making every thought in his head scatter and leaving only ithurtsithurtsithurtssomuch. But it faded before he could black out, leaving a ringing in his ear and blurs in his vision. He gasped for air, trying to swallow down the bitter bile in his throat.
“Well now, lets see,” Vicious continued as if nothing happened, “You are not going to choose your mother, we both know that.” His voice is condescending like a disappointed parent talking to his unruly child.
“I heard poor Mrs. Nakayama has some issues with her hips. It would be very unfortunate if she slipped and fell while doing her shopping wouldn’t it? I see why you volunteered to do it for her now. Old bones don’t heal that easily, if at all.”
Izuku doesn’t move but doesn’t say a word either. He heard him. He’s not going to send anyone to the lion’s den, but himself. If this is the price for their freedom, so be it.
The next round of pain brings him to his knees but Vicious knows his quirk well. He always pulls back at the last possible second, before the forgiving darkness would envelop Izuku’s vision, giving him just enough time to hurl and heave on the floor until he starts again. Victoria might be the torture master but Vicious is a master of torture both physical and psychological.
“You only need to choose one son. Come on now, we don’t have all weekend- oh wait”
Through the pain and nausea Izuku realizes why has he been ‘taken out’ for the whole weekend. Vicious knows him, he knew he was not going to give in easily. What he doesn’t know is that he’s not going to give in at all. He uses that thought as a lifebelt in the raging sea of pain as Vicious asks him again, and again:
“Choose.”
He loses track of time and after a while even Vicious’s amusement turns into annoyance at his refusal. He’s on the ground now, shaking in his own vomit as Vicious pulls his hand back to rub his face in disappointment.
“This isn’t fun for me neither you know. We both know you can’t keep this up forever, my knees are aching from crouching, I’d like a hot bath and you desperately need a shower son. Just choose someone at random and be done with it”
“I’m not going to fail.”
Izuku could barely get the words out but still raised his head to meet Vicious’s eyes, determination burning inside of him, almost making the burn of his muscles feel like nothing compared to the heat in his eyes. He doesn’t avert them, meeting Vicious’s almost curious gaze for what feels like hours. The silence stretched and filled the room, only disturbed by his harbored, uneven breathing.
Vicious raised an eyebrow -a very rare action on his behalf- signifying that what he says next will decide Izuku’s fate once and for all.
“We’ll see about that. But if you do fail, I’ll choose for you. You had your chance.”
Izuku can’t help but feel de bittersweet taste of victory at those words. He might not have many options; he might have to do things he’ll regret for the rest of his life but that doesn’t mean he won’t use everything at his disposal to put up as much resistance as he possibly can.
He might not be a hero but he can pretend to be one.
The satisfaction of besting Vicious in his own game was short lived as he reaches for Izuku’s head once again and he screams until blackness takes over his vision finally letting him settle into the loving arms of unconsciousness.