Chapter Text
“Excuse me? Care to repeat that?” Chuuya hissed angrily, pausing his work to glare up at the dickhead who was casually leaning on the front of his desk, an idiotic grin plastered on his idiotic face.
“I think I misheard you. We’re going to do what now?”
“You heard me right, Chuuya~” Dazai remarked, pushing himself upright with a smirk, his only visible eye glinting with the promise of mischief. Holding up his hands to form a heart and kicking up one of his back legs–a move that starkly contrasted with his everything–he continued gleefully, “Orders directly from the boss. We are going to UA! Plus Ultra!!! ♡♡”
After his declaration, Dazai began to cackle, much to Chuuya’s chagrin. Unfortunately, Chuuya could feel another Dazai-induced stress migraine coming on, and it was only ten in the fucking morning. Was peace of mind really too much to ask for when he was stuck inside doing fuckass paperwork?
Chuuya let out a soft breath and forcibly released the tension in his shoulders. No. He would not be falling for Dazai’s idiocy this morning. Instead of reacting to Dazai’s provocations, he responded as coolly as the flames of irritation building in his chest would allow.
“What the actual fuck are you rambling about now, Dazai? And how the hell did you-” Chuuya cut off his question with a sigh and put his pen down on the desk, his paperwork forgotten. “Has living in that radioactive shithole you call a house finally gone to your head? Have you finally lost it for real?” he demanded, glaring up at Dazai.
Dazai placed his hands on the desk and stared down at Chuuya, his grin unwavering.
“You know I wouldn’t joke around about Mori’s orders, right, Chibi? Besides, isn’t it every kid’s dream to be a pro-hero?” Dazai withdrew from Chuuya’s desk, his smile falling away. “And here I thought you would be excited to get out of here for a bit,” he pouted, crossing his arms.
Chuuya continued to glare at Dazai, eyes narrowed.
What the hell is he on about now?
Chuuya thought he was used to Dazai’s unpredictable games played at the expense of his unsuspecting victims. Really, with the amount of bullshit Dazai put him through, he should be fucking immune at this point. And yet, here they were. Again.
(Hell, even just last week, Dazai sent Chuuya on a “very important” mission to find a left-handed screwdriver, and it took Chuuya hours before he finally figured out what Dazai was playing at. Chuuya may have looked like a fool, but he managed to catch Dazai off guard when he sent every screwdriver he could find in the building careening at mach speed at Dazai. Watching him dance like a monkey to dodge all of them had been the highlight of his week. Totally worth the lecture he got from Ane-san.)
But this. This was new. However, this time he would not be fooled. Even now, when he had no mental energy left, he knew that no one in their right mind would allow two Yokohamans–members of the infamous Port Mafia, no less–into one of the most prestigious hero academies in Japan.
No, I ain’t gonna fall for it this time.
Chuuya huffed out another sigh and counted slowly to ten in his head. He needed to cool his frustration lest he get another lecture and lose out on the bet he’d made with Ane-san. If he could just go another forty-eight hours without attacking Dazai, he’d get free rein of her wine cellar for a night. Chuuya was not about to lose out on that prime opportunity because of a headass mackerel with a propensity for bullshit.
“Yeah, okay, sure, whatever you say, Dazai,” Chuuya said dismissively, glancing back down at his work.
Calm thoughts, Chuuya, calm thoughts. The stars at night. A leaf floating down a river. The city lights-
“Hmm? But I’m being serious this time?” Dazai replied, his head cocked to the side as he watched Chuuya.
Chuuya felt his eyebrow twitch in irritation, but instead of letting it show and giving Dazai the satisfaction, he put on an air of disinterest. He waved a gloved hand dismissively and glanced back down at the work on his desk, pointedly ignoring Dazai’s words.
“If you aren’t gonna help, get out, asshole. I have more important things to do than fall for your tricks again.”
Dazai shrugged and moved closer. When Chuuya glanced up again, he noticed that the mischievous glint in Dazai’s eye was back. But before Chuuya had a moment to wonder why the fuck Dazai was still being like this, he unceremoniously tossed a case file on Chuuya’s desk.
“Chibi-Chuuya~” Chuuya felt a vein in his forehead pulse, “We’re gonna have some fun!” Dazai cheered.
And Chuuya hated that tone. It was bad news. Real fucking bad news. Dazai only spoke like that when he knew something Chuuya didn’t and wanted to lord it over him. He felt something within him beginning to crumble (it was probably his self-control), and as if to remind him that he was fucking irked, Chuuya felt his hands begin to twitch. Fuck.
Chuuya took another deep breath and cautiously picked up the case file. As he began to flip through it, his face slowly began to fall further and further. Finally, he could read no further–he didn't think he could stomach any more. This-this had to be fake, right? It was another one of Dazai's shitty pranks.
“This is a fucking joke, right?” Chuuya growled, throwing the case file down on his desk with extreme prejudice. “Haha, very funny, Dazai. Us? Hero students? Sign of good faith?”
He glanced back up at Dazai, but Dazai’s grin had not wavered.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Chuuya groaned, “I have to go to UA. With you?”
Dazai responded to Chuuya’s look of absolute disgust with two-finger hearts and an irritating laugh.
Motherfucker.
-
About a month prior
Shizuoka Prefecture was a bright and colorful place–bustling, warm, and overflowing with the mundanity of everyday life. Like many other Japanese prefectures, its streets were plastered with multi-colored neon billboards, posters, and murals glorifying whatever hero was popular that month. It was, after all, the home of the famed UA, the number one hero school in all of Japan. And the Hero Commission, the government organization that regulated all heroes–active and retired–wanted every villain to know that Japan was not short on heroes. That Japan would stop at nothing to rid itself of its rotted roots in favor of presenting everyday citizens with a better, brighter tomorrow.
And just like the villains lurking in the shadows, the people, too, were aware of how safe and protected they were.
(Ah, yes. Protection. Safety. What interesting buzzwords. But what is a facade without a little garnish?)
All across the prefecture, people of all shapes and sizes were buzzing about, keen to enjoy the warm summer afternoon. On such a busy day, heroes wearing garish and tacky suits were out in droves, patrolling the streets. The city had a lively atmosphere, one that seemed to perfectly match a world of superheroes and supervillains. Its brightness, however, marked a stark contrast to the out-of-place row of black sedans that lined the street. Yet, somehow, no one paid them much mind, even when twenty men all dressed in suits stepped out of the cars and into the daylight. The driver of the fourth car, an average-looking man of average height, opened the door to the backseat, and out stepped a decidedly un-average-looking man.
The long-haired man was dressed in a long dark coat, a three-piece suit, and a red scarf–certainly out of place in the early July heat. He carried himself rather elegantly, poised with an enigmatic air and plastic smile. Anyone who looked at him for a little too long was overcome with a sense of dread–nothing good would come of acknowledging him, so those on the street purposely moved out of his way.
He strode forward confidently, his men rushing to open the doors to the office building in front of him, before disappearing inside. His men trailed silently along behind him, and soon, the sidewalk in front of the building filled with pedestrians again as if the enigmatic man had never been there in the first place.
An hour passed.
Then another.
Then another.
Then anoth-
Boom.
What was once a perfectly normal twenty-story office building now had a gaping hole in the side of the 14th floor. From the street, the characteristic laugh of everyone’s favorite number one hero could be faintly heard.
“Hahah! I AM HERE!”
____________
Yokohama–the enclosed city–had always remained veiled in mystery. While quirks had become more and more prevalent in society, Yokohama remained the sole place with a majority quirkless population. There were many rumors regarding Yokohama circulating, but little was actually confirmed. Some believed that it was a city of villains. Others said that Yokohamans hated not only heroes, but quirks as a whole. Others whispered about so-called ability-users–those with powers that were similar to quirks, but were strikingly more...primal.
However, the most prevalent rumor was that the city and its government were controlled by the Port Mafia, a villainous organization. And no one believed in this rumor more than the country’s own number one hero: All-Might.
All-Might, the Symbol of Peace, friend to all, was decidedly not a friend to Yokohama. To say that All-Might’s relationship with Yokohama was contentious was an understatement. He was always uncharacteristically aggressive whenever Yokohama was brought up, emphasizing that as a symbol of peace (and justice), he would not stand still should Yokohama or its citizens (ahem, Port Mafia members) engage in any less-than-legal behaviors on Japanese soil.
However, throughout his whole career, All-Might had never once been to Yokohama nor had he had any interaction with the city or its citizens. As a beacon of justice, he could not break the law, and that included the long-standing peace treaty between Yokohama and the rest of Japan. At the dawn of quirks, Yokohama had encased itself in an impenetrable barrier and declared itself an autonomous region. Japan had (begrudgingly) acknowledged them, and as such, a few rules were put into place:
- No hero or Japanese citizen could interfere with the city or its government
- Yokohama could not interfere with Japan or the HPSC (Hero Commission)
- The leaders of Japan and Yokohama must communicate regularly regarding any incidents and to report intrastate affairs, officially meeting twice a year in person
- While Yokohama was functionally autonomous, it could not engage in foreign relations, authorized only to engage in domestic policy
But, on that fateful summer afternoon, All-Might broke that tacit agreement. He had intruded on the bi-yearly meeting between the regions’ leaders under the false impression that the Port Mafia was up to something. Apparently, he’d heard from a trusted source that the head of the Port Mafia was meeting with business partners to expand their influence on Japanese soil. And, while he was not entirely wrong–Mori Ougai, the head of the Port Mafia, was indeed participating in the meeting–All-Might was entirely incorrect in his assumption regarding the contents of the meeting.
So, when All-Might came smashing through the wall, all hell broke loose. Many ran for cover, but the Port Mafia members–all twenty of them–pointed their weapons at the seven-foot hulk of a man who dared to grab the Boss by the collar.
Mori Ougai was not a man to take an affront lightly. And, he was even less inclined to forgive and forget when the affront was committed by a spandex-clad man who lacked the mental faculties to comprehend that even the head of the mafia could engage in above-board business dealings. So, when he found himself dangling by the collar at the hands of Japan’s Number One Idiot, he couldn’t help but let out a bitter, mirthless laugh.
Only those directly involved know how exactly the meeting ended, but everyone in Japan soon discovered the consequences of All-Might’s misstep. That evening, the Yokohaman government released a statement:
Today, both the authority and the integrity of the Yokohama Autonomous Zone were challenged by the Japanese number-one hero All-Might. While All-Might’s attack on Yokohaman citizens may have come from a sense of justice, this act of disrespect towards Yokohama will not be tolerated. Yokohama and the Tripartite Framework will do everything within their power to make sure that this mistake is rectified and never repeated.
While the statement contained no direct threats, the warning was obvious. However, most average people scoffed and took All-Might’s side.
(Why wouldn’t they? He was their savior. When had he ever steered them wrong?)
Besides, what was the leader of the Port Mafia even doing in Japan? How was All-Might supposed to know that this was an above-board meeting? It’s the mafia for pete’s sake. All Might was just trying to prevent a malicious criminal organization from invading Japan. And anyway, it’s not like a single legal meeting absolves the mafia from being, well, the mafia.
And what was with that threat? What could the so-called Quirkless City even do, huh?
Yet, the Hero Commission and the Japanese government took the threats much more seriously. Unlike the rest of the population, they knew just how much Japan would suffer should they turn their back on Yokohama.
And thus, Yokohama would begin to interact with the world once more.