Chapter Text
Sometimes, in the privacy of her mind, Tsu would admit to herself that
being part frog sucks.
Having a fauna-type mutation wasn’t atypical, but neither was it common. So it stood to reason that not many knew in-depth of the complexities that came with it. There was more to having large horns than lowering heads when passing through doorways, buying shirts with holes to accommodate the feathered appendages on their back, or elongated S’s usually accompanied by a peeking forked tongue.
Dietary restrictions, colorblindness, sleep cycles—the few of many that had to be accounted for once ensured what animal the quirk was similar to.
Tsu couldn’t drink coffee and had a particular liking for flies as a snack. Poorly illuminated areas were hardly a problem with her enhanced scotopic vision. And, to put it simply, she was a
very
light sleeper.
Right now, those were the least of her worries. No, what bothered her most was the instinctual fear response.
People would think that animals would defer to either fight or flight reactions when faced with a stimulus. Not a frog, though.
They
freeze,
which brings her back to what could be the worst possible outcome.
All she could do was stare at the approaching manifestation of death that set sights on her crouched figure. She saw what it could do, what it had done to her now incapacitated sensei. It could kill its target instantly. She would die if she didn’t move.
She couldn’t move.
Never had she ever hated a part of herself as much as that moment. If she could rid one quirk-induced instinct, it would be tonic immobility.
Her body stalled at the sheer concentration of dread that flooded her veins. The paralytic-like reaction froze her limbs and halted the movement of her diaphragm. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t blink. It was as if she was in a state of near-death before her impending actual death.
Perhaps that was why Tsu’s life flashed before her eyes.
Chatter at the dinner table was unceasing of tales of recent events. The dry taste of tree bark on her tongue during the long hours of training for the entrance exam. Sleepless nights whenever the neighbor’s dog endlessly barked at loitering alley cats. An in-person meet-up with All Might from a fight that occurred near her middle school.
Relief blanketed every person in the vicinity. Panic dissipated from the air immediately.
Why? Because he was there.
So where was he now?
The villain was a foot away.
Who will protect them?
An inch away.
Who will save her?
A sudden shout shattered the illusion of calm in her addled mind. The shock was enough to stop her from jerking away from the arms that pulled her back by the waist. The hand didn’t follow her. Instead, it stopped, and so did the man in his quick approach.
Once she had her bearings, Tsu watched everything unfold from a semi-safe distance. It didn’t mean whatever was happening was understood.
The shout wasn’t the three words she was expecting to hear, never mind the fact that it wasn’t three words at all. It didn’t originate from the forcefully opened gates of the USJ or said by the hero everyone was waiting for.
There was no relief or ease of tension.
Tsu was… confused, more than anything. From who spoke to what they said, nothing was making sense.
"ATROPHY!"
If not for the tear tracks that stained his cheeks, one wouldn’t have thought that the hero-in-training was crying a few moments earlier. With a wide stance and set shoulders, he met the eyes of her would’ve-been-killer. His hands were raised, but not to fight. No, his right hand was raised to shield her and Shinsou from the still-existing threats.
“I, Shepherd, put Midpoint under my care.” If the mention of the word atrophy had the man stop where he stood, then the name shepherd had him lower his defenses. She heard Shinsou mutter a curse from where he was behind her. “Effective immediately, in exchange for two favors with the League of Villains.”
Her classmate took a step forward, redirecting both of the villains’ attention away from them. Past the pair was the warper observing the exchange, their sensei beside him long passed out before this unprecedented interaction began.
In other words, three witnesses; of the three, she seemed to be the only one that had no idea what was happening.
"So, the Shepherd owes me?”
"Master Shigaraki, we are the ones who owed the Shepherd."
The man’s head snapped towards the other. "Since when?!"
"Since you asked for safe routes and spaces for your gathering."
Thoroughly forgotten, the villain called Atrophy—or was it Shigaraki?—was wide open. A hit could be brought down on his back and the warper wouldn't be able to see where she was aiming. If she struck at the shoulders or knocked him out with a blow to the nape, then it would be over.
Tsu would have prepared for an attack, discreetly positioning her legs for a jump, if it weren't for the stubborn arms still wrapped around her.
"Shinsou?—"
"Later." He met Midoriya's gaze and nodded. "I'll explain everything later but from now on
you can't attack the League.
"
Before she could argue against it, the long-awaited slam of the doors shook the USJ.
"I AM HERE!" All Might bellowed, and everyone jumped back to their roles as if nothing out of the ordinary occurred. At least, no more unordinary than the surprise attack at UA.
Everything after went as one would expect.
The hero fought villains. The hero struggled valiantly. The hero won. The villains lost.
Throughout the entire process, Tsu didn't feel the relief she had been expecting at All Might's arrival. As much as she loathes some of her instincts, the permeating cloud of uneasiness refused to dissipate. That sixth sense has not once failed her before.
Shinsou's arms didn't leave her waist until the League escaped.
“...Did you hear the trades, Hermes?”
“I always do, Cryptid.”
“Shepherd took another black sheep under his care.”
“I know, the name he gave was Midpoint. What type did you see?”
“Fauna. My quirk thinks so too. Who did Shepherd trade with?”
“The League of Villains.”
“
That
group?”
“The same one.”
“Didn’t you hear the rumors, Hermes?”
“I always do, Cryptid.”
“I don’t think this is the last time we’ll see them.”
“It won’t be.”
“I haven’t seen a Nine yet either.”
“I heard Eight is still looking for one.”
“...I hope he doesn’t choose a black sheep.”
“He won’t. No one ever does.”
“Did you hear the murmurs, Hermes?”
“No, not this time, Cryptid.”
“Then… until next time we see each other.”
“Until next time we speak to one another.”