random updates ftw ^-^

also above is my (attempted design of) assassin hizashi (dang he doesnt even lOOK like him xD)

NOTE: You now need to slide to the next image to see the art lol

hahahahaehashzexdjah

*cough*

aAAAAAND NOW WE START B)

---

Hizashi took in a breath, cold air filling his lungs as the wind ran through his tangled hair.

His father's voice echoed in his mind, goosebumps raising on his skin. "Remember, Zashi," he had whispered in his ear, voice coiling around him, "You can't afford to mess this up."

The black-haired boy remained still for a moment, staring out into the endless expanse of the night sky, only to give a nod a moment later.

His ears perked up at the sound of glass breaking from below, eyes scouring the area before falling upon a terrified man that ran through the alleyway. Pulling his mask over his lips, Hizashi leapt down, hand hovering over his knife holster.

As soon as his shoes touched the asphalt, Hizashi began racing towards the man, watching as he heaved while trying to get away. Not tiring, the boy continued following him until he found himself cornered in an alley, with Hizashi blocking the exit.

He remained silent as his fingers wrapped around his knife, a single name playing repeatedly through his mind, only getting louder each time it appeared. Hōjiru Sozoku.

"P-please," the man sputtered, forehead sweaty and whiskers twitching. "God, please! I didn't... I have a wife and daughter. I just..."

While he frantically searched for words, Hizashi leapt towards the man, holding his knife to his throat and watching as blood bubbled to the surface of his skin. His eyes were void of emotion, but seemed to emanate a sharp toxicity.

Before the man could say another word, Hizashi slid the knife across his throat, wiping the blade off with a cloth as the man fell to the ground, choking on his own blood.

His boots splashed in the growing pool of red as he bent next to the man, listening for a pulse. After a moment of silence, Hizashi stood, pressing his finger to his ear and stepping away from the puddle of blood.

"You're done, then?" a voice crackled in.

Hizashi didn't bother to respond, instead tapping his finger on the piece three times.

"Good," the voice said smugly. "You may return."

Hizashi nodded to himself before rushing out of the alley, only to find himself skidding to a stop right before taking a hit.

"Ah!" a small voice squeaked, causing the boy to look down. A little girl, probably about 7 years old and with half-grown whiskers sprouting from her cheeks backed up, brown curls bouncing as she startled. "Sorry, mister!" After a moment, she shook her head, looking into Hizashi's eyes with a pleading look in her own. "Have you seen my daddy? He's got a mouse quirk like mine... Ah..." She bit her lip, raising her hand above her head. "He's about this tall and he's got the same hair color as me..."

Hizashi's mind briefly flickered back to the man's mention of a daughter.

He opened his mouth to speak, only to quickly close it and shake his head. After a moment, however, he pointed behind to the alley behind him, causing her to beam.

"He went that way?" Only waiting for a nod of confirmation, she bounced on her toes, running off as she squeaked happily. "Thank you, mister!" It'd be unnecessary to dispose of her, he thought rationally, not a hint of remorse within his mind. She'll help to spread a sort of warning about the family.

Hizashi watched as she scampered off, hand falling to his side. Once she left his vision, he turned, weaving in between the streets and hopping from rooftop to rooftop before he slipped into the darkness, swallowed by the shadows.

His knuckles rapped against the metal door. Two knocks, then one. Pause. Then three.

The boy stepped backwards as a slot above opened, eyes glaring through. They took in Hizashi's appearance before a voice spat out.

"Name and business?"

Hizashi remained silent, simply raising a pinky.

After a moment, the eyes sunk downwards and a series of clicks filled the air. As the door creaked open, Hizashi stepped forwards, eyes trailing the man as he stepped to the side.

"Your father wishes to see you," he said, motioning for him to move forwards.

The black-haired boy's eyes lingered for a moment, seeming to scan the man. Just as he was becoming nervous, though, Hizashi's head snapped to the side, feet swiftly carrying him to the next room.

He ignored each pair of eyes that fell upon him, uncaring towards the harsh glares and jealous scoffs, and even holding an indifference towards those who looked upon him with a sort of proudness. Instead, he simply kept his head straight before making a sharp turn and heading into the dimly lit hallway where his father's office sat.

Once. Then four times. A pause. And a snap.

The sound of clicking heels came from the other side of the door, and Hizashi quickly met the eyes of his father's assistant (and Hizashi's personal trainer).

"Welcome, Young Hizashi," Mamoru voiced, "Your father is at his desk. Head straight over."

The black-haired boy nodded, stepping up to his father's desk and placing his hands behind his back. He didn't dare make a sound, simply waiting for the man to raise his head.

His father's hand swiftly moved across the desk, pressing ink onto a page as he shuffled his papers. After five minutes, the man raised his gaze to meet Hizashi's, a sort of radioactive spark igniting within his irises as his pupils thinned. "Ah, Zashi," he said. The words might've sounded fatherly if it weren't for the crooked smile that was spread across his cheeks, along the hollow undertone of his voice. "I trust you took care of Mr. Sozuku well?"

Hizashi replied with a simple nod, hands clasped firmly behind his straightened back.

"And," he said in a buttery sort of voice, eyes trailing across Hizashi's face as if he were dissecting the boy, "You made sure there were no witnesses?"

The boy nodded.

His father's gaze lingered for a moment, but he gave a pursed-lip smile before glancing downwards. "Alright, then. Well, I know you've just gotten back, but I have a new mission for you. And," he cleared his throat, eyes flicking towards the back, "This'll be a longer one."
Hizashi recognized the sound as the second door of his father's office shutting, a sort of unease worming its way into his stomach.

"I'm sure you recognize the name 'U.A. High School," the man said sharply, his toxic gaze peering into Hizashi's weaker, emerald eyes. He no doubt picked up the way his eyes widened by a fraction of an inch. "And more recently," he said with a twitch of his lip (which was a disturbing change from his usual calm demeanor), "They've gained traction for helping to mold the newer generations into the great heroes of today." His tone towards the end became a sickly sweet, more poisonous than anything.

Hizashi stared at the man, waiting for him to continue as his hands clenched against his back.

"And now that you're about to hit 14...," the man said with an unnerving smile, "It'd only make sense that you go."

The black haired boy froze, blinking confusedly. Hizashi was an assassin and nothing more - so why would his father send him to a school for heroes?

His father smirked. "I can see you're confused. Well the reason for this, Zashi," he spoke sharply, causing the boy to involuntarily straighten, "Is that collecting information about U.A. would be in our best interests. Not only could you put a damper on the strengthening of heroes as an inside man..." The man paused for a moment, sending a chill down Hizashi's spine with his wicked smile. "But you'd be able to do it for years. All until the hero world crumbles." He sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Of course, this'll be a long haul. You'll have to scope U.A. out, so I've already prepared everything for you."

Hizashi didn't bother even raising a brow, knowing that his father would explain.

"You see, Zashi," he said, pushing an envelope towards the boy - something that he didn't dare to look at until told to - "You now have a last name! Congratulations," he said with a sort of sadistic tone. "I've created a new identity for you. Something that you'll be able to use to get into U.A."

The boy, with a nod from his father, slowly reached down to pick up the envelope. He glanced up for further confirmation, only opening the package when he received said permission.

Slowly, he peeled the top of the envelope open before reaching inside and pouring out a variety of items onto the table. His eyes first fell upon a fake I.D., calling him by the name of 'Yamada Hizashi.' His picture was a heavily edited version of himself, yet oddly realistic.

His gaze drifted to the side, where he spotted the next items. It was a bottle of hair dye - explaining the altered picture - and a pair of tacky sunglasses.

He then glanced to the other side, where a pair of earbuds sat by their lonesome. However, a few inches away lay a stack of papers - a costume design sat at the top of the pile. Hizashi's nose scrunched as he raised his head, mask covering his confused frown.

"I'm sure all of these items seem strange," his father chuckled, "But they're all for good reason. You see," he said in an all-too happy voice, "While you're at U.A., you won't be doing any other missions.

Hizashi's eyes widened, and he nearly stumbled over himself.

"I've worked way too hard to create your fake identity, and it'd be a shame if a U.A. student was noticed killing people around town," he mused, "So I'm expecting you to take this part seriously." His eyes settled upon Hizashi, causing him to gulp at the toxic flash that appeared in his eyes. "Think of it as nothing more than a long time act. I mean, it's not like you're foreign to the concept of pretending to be someone else for a job. It'll just be longer this time."

"Oh and," his father said after a moment, eyes flicking upwards, "You'll obviously be expected to use your quirk."

Hizashi froze, heart stilling. His mind filled with the image of bleeding ears as a bone-chilling scream rang throughout the air. A woman fell to the ground, pressing her fingers to her ears as she gritted her teeth before they fell limply to her side. She splashed into a puddle of blood, eyes cold and dead. Days passed. Maggots and other bugs crawled over her carcass as it grew more disfigured and-

"Zashi," his father said sharply, causing the boy's eyes to snap upwards. He hadn't realized that he had been staring, heartbeat faster than ever before.

Throat dry, the boy swallowed and bowed an apology.

His father's lips pursed, and his voice became softer than normal. "I know, Zashi, But this is important. You're going to have to use it." His eyes flicked towards the back, and his tone returned to its normal coldness. "I'll have Mamoru train you."

The ringing in Hizashi's ears dissipated as he nodded.

Mamoru stepped up, placing his hand on the boy's shoulder, a kind look in his eyes despite the stone-like expression he wore.

He gestured towards one of the items on the table, and Hizashi sucked in a breath as he turned his attention towards the earbuds that he had seen before.

"These," his father explained as he picked them up, "Are for you to use so your hearing isn't damaged by your quirk. Additionally, it'll help to train you to regulate your pitch. Mamoru," he said, placing the earbuds down, "Will have a similar pair that'll make sure his hearing isn't damaged while you train."

Hizashi let out the slightest sigh of relief.

"Now," he said with a smile, looking straight into Hizashi's eyes. "You'll do this, correct?"

The boy paused for a moment. He wished to say no - he wanted to have his normal, safe routine.

But he knew his father wouldn't take kindly to such an admission.

So, instead, he lowered his eyes, offering a simple nod.

"Hmm?" his father said. "Sorry, I think you're going to have to answer aloud."

Hizashi froze, eyes wide as he stared at the man. He choked on the lump in his throat, pressing his fingers against his neck. Speaking...?

The man broke out into a smirk. "Well?"

The boy trembled as he opened his mouth, barely letting out a strangled whisper.

"C'mon, Zashi," his father pressed with a bone-chilling voice, "I know you can do better than that."

Hizashi squeezed his eyes shut, fists clenched at his sides. "Okay...," he whispered, wincing at the weakness of his voice.

The man paused for a moment before sitting back in his chair. "We'll have to work on that. Anyways," he said, waving towards Mamoru, "Take Hizashi back to his room. He'll need to get plenty of rest for tomorrow. Wake him up at 5am sharp - and don't waste any time."

Mamoru bowed as Hizashi stood still, only to turn around and lead the boy back to the set of doors. The boy felt as if his skin was on fire as his father's eyes pierced through him, the sensation only dampening once he had left the room.

"It'll be okay, Young Hizashi," Mamoru said quietly, causing the boy to look up with a sort of surprise in his eyes. After a moment, though, he simply nodded, removing any trace of emotion from his face.

The man's eyes lingered on his face for a moment, but once Hizashi had made it clear that he was done socializing for the day, he quietly led the boy back to his room. "Remember," he said as he closed the door, "Don't stay up."

Hizashi didn't wince as the darkness cloaked over the room, instead finding a sort of twisted comfort in the removal of his sight. Slowly, he trudged over to his bed, robotically putting his items away before falling into his bed with a thunk.

It wasn't difficult to fall asleep after that.

He just wished his nightmares weren't filled with those ear-piercing screams.

---

"Young Yamada," a calm voice said, causing Hizashi's eyes to flutter open. He looked at the man with confusion present on his face - not bothering to mask it in front of Mamoru.

The man allowed for the hint of a smile to cross his features. "Your last name."

Hizashi pursed his lips as he remembered the fake identity that his father had created for him. After a moment, the boy nodded, pushing himself up from his bed and pulling his mask over the bottom half of his face. A sort of instant relief washed over him once he did so, and he rose to his feet without further issues.

"Get ready within 5 minutes," Mamoru said, turning around. "I'll be waiting in the training hall."

The boy didn't bother to reply, instead waiting for the door to close behind the man before slipping on his gear. Just as he was about to leave, though, his eye fell upon a note placed on his desk. Brows furrowing, Hizashi leaned down and read over the sticky note, throat becoming dry as the words set in.

"These are your earbuds. You're going straight into quirk training. Don't forget to wear them."

With one fist clenched, Hizashi forced the other to swipe the earbuds off the table, trembling as he pressed them into his ears. The boy froze for a moment, suddenly realizing that he couldn't hear. It was unnerving, to say the least. To suddenly feel the world around him become silent - not even the muffled voices of those outside to keep him company.

Hastily, the boy began to fiddle with the device, letting out a breath that he hadn't remembered holding once the sound came rushing back. And, with that, he allowed his (admittedly trembling) hands to fall to his sides before heading outside and to the training area.

Having been there countless times, it didn't take long for Hizashi to arrive.

However, he couldn't help but notice a few key changes.

Number one, Mamoru was wearing the provided earbuds.

Number two, every launching area of the obstacle course was removed.

Number three, there were more targets in the aim-training area.

And number four, every glass surface was covered.

"I can tell you've noticed the changes, Young Yamada," a voice said from beside him, though the only startling fact was how he addressed him. Otherwise, the boy simply turned his gaze towards the man, taking in his training outfit before his eyes settled upon his face. "Unlike your previous training sessions, you won't be dealing with hand-to-hand combat or weapons. Instead, this will be primarily quirk based."

Even though Hizashi had known about the training beforehand, he couldn't help but clench his fist.

"First," he said, gesturing towards a device that had been put in front of the obstacle course, "We'll be testing out the power of your quirk."

Hizashi took in a deep breath as he was led over to the item which, upon closer inspection, was a simple box with a sound recorder built in.

Mamoru stepped back, adjusting the setting on his earbuds with a blank expression. "Please, Young Yamada," he said after a moment, "Go ahead."

The boy's eyes slowly turned to face the box, a sense of dread settling in his stomach. His fingernails dug into his skin, breaths quickening as he pulled the mask from his lips. Slowly, he opened his mouth, wincing as if the action itself might cause his doom.

Once a few moments had passed, he pulled his hand back and snapped his mouth shut, shaking his head as he swallowed the lump in his throat.

Nervousness intertwined with unease, both working together to make his stomach flip. He could only shake his head again.

"I understand, Young Yamada," his mentor said in a calmer tone, "But your father has forbidden you from leaving until you at least do this much. If it were my choice, I'd allow you to wait. However...," he said, pursing his lips and allowing Hizashi to fill in the rest for himself.

His throat felt dry and his soul felt as if it might rip apart at the seams if he did so much as to even spread his lips apart, but despite the burning sensation under his skin, he forced himself to do that much.

Taking in a deep breath, he squeezed his eyes shut and attempted to bring out his voice.

The attempt was a failure.

A hand fell upon the black-haired boy's shoulder, causing him to stiffen and raise his head. "Young Yamada, remember: nobody is around to get hurt, and I have sound-cancelling earbuds that'll keep me safe. As for the items around," he said, gesturing towards the padding, "They'll be fine as well. I know it's difficult, but please try not to stress too much." After a moment, he offered a kind smile - one that he could hardly ever give due to his father's presence most of the time. "Your fear won't go away in one day. However, I believe you can overcome it - even if it's just for a moment. So please, Young Yamada," he said, stepping away, "Do your best."

Hizashi's stare lingered on the man for what seemed like years, only for the boy to turn towards the box with a mixture of determination and fear. With a step forward, he opened his mouth and pressed his fingers to his throat, shoving away all of the doubts in his mind for a single moment.

And he screamed.

A loud, thunderous shout rang throughout the hall but, true to his word, Mamoru and the items around remained unaffected.

While Hizashi panted, and winced at the throbbing pain in his throat, the device before him ticked back and forth between numbers.

"Around 120 decibels," Mamoru said calmly, removing his earbuds. "It seems as if you're unconsciously limiting your highest potential."

Although not a single muscle in the man's face twitched - besides when he spoke - Hizashi's stomach churned at the underlying disappointment in his voice.

He bowed in apology.

"It's fine," the man replied, and, rather than holding further disappointment, he sounded kind, leaving Hizashi to wonder if he had imagined the previous emotion. "You'll work up to louder frequencies, I'm sure. Besides," he smiled, causing the boy's heart to stutter, "This'll allow you to focus on your control for now."

The boy remained silent for a moment before nodding.

Mamoru nodded back, fixing up the device and placing it to the side. "I'd like to give you a break, Young Yamada," he said with a slight sadness in his voice, "But as you know, your father's words are final."

Hizashi's heart sank, but he didn't protest.

"However," the man chuckled lightly, "I wouldn't be opposed if you were to take it easy. After all, I can't exactly force you to work hard."

The boy felt his lip twitch upwards before he shook the feeling away.

Mamoru almost seemed saddened by the boy's reluctance to disobey, but he was careful to hide it. The man sighed, straightening himself and walking towards the dummies that Hizashi had spotted before. "For now," he explained as the boy's eyes followed him, "I'd like you to simply try to attack these training dummies with your quirk. However," he said, raising a finger, "You may not hit more than one at a time, as this is a test to train your directional capabilities."
Hizashi looked somewhat unsure, but still nodded.

"Please," he said, stepping away and putting in his earbuds once again, "Begin."

Sucking in a breath, Hizashi stepped in front of the first dummy. However, just as he parted his lips, he froze.

His mind screamed at him not to use his voice. You'll hurt someone. You'll hurt someone you love and they'll despise you for the rest of your life. You'll kill another. This is why you stopped speaking, isn't it? So you wouldn't hurt anyone anymore? So nobody would hate you?"

What makes you think that you have more control now?

The boy's forehead became slick with sweat - clammy hands shaking at his sides. "I...," he heaved, barely able to stand, "P-please... No m...more..."

He ran his fingers through his hair and stumbled backwards to the wall, remembering how his voice echoed around him moments earlier.

How, if he made a single slip up, everything could fall apart around him.

It didn't make any sense. It really didn't, and he knew that. After all, what was so different about killing someone with a quirk versus with a weapon?

But still, he couldn't bring himself to use it again. Just the thought forced him to break into a cold sweat. The test was a one-time use.

He was done.

The corners of Hizashi's vision darkened, and he found himself falling into a wall as his sight became blurry. His voice slurred, a mess of words tumbling from his lips while Mamoru rushed towards him.

A single thought appeared in his mind as he felt his consciousness slip away - the feeling of which sent a shiver down Hizashi's spine.

His father would no doubt be disappointed.

---

Sei Mamoru

Quirk: Shield

Quirk Description: Energy can be pushed through the user's palms and rapidly expanded / hardened into a sort of shield. The energy is taken from the user themselves, so fatigue is expected from repeated use.

i made mamoru up but i love him

also hizashi is an assassin for some reason B)

yeh

sorry if this sucks but B)

Thanks for reading! <3

also, extra info!

- Maggots, bugs, etc. on the woman's corpse.

The reason behind Hizashi's hatred for bugs.

- Silence.

Hizashi, ironically, doesn't speak. In fact, he hadn't in years until his 'father' forced him to.

- Uncaring.

Hizashi didn't kill the little girl, but he wouldn't have minded if he had to. He simply didn't so she would later spread the word about the family he was contracted by (for a growth in fear for disrespecting them). Obviously, she would see the body.

- Appearance

Hizashi has not long, but kind of medium black hair (at least for most bois + seen at the top) and obviously green eyes. The yellow hair in his later years is dye, and he uses tons of gel to get his hair to do whatever it does in the future (pffft). He's almost never seen without his mask (exceptions: Mamoru [who he trusts] and his father [when he's made to] very rarely). He wears a lot of blacks and less-colorful, fitting clothing.

His 'father' also has green eyes but has shorter, brown hair. They are not biologically related - the eye color is mere coincidence. He's decently tall and is usually wearing nice, expensive clothing.

Mamoru doesn't have a definitive appearance, but generally he's pretty old. Probably like 60. I'll make up an appearance for the meme, literally right now B)

Mamoru has violet eyes that lightly glow when his quirk is used (his palms also give off a faint, purple light), along with grayed hair. He's usually found wearing a butler-like suit and is pretty pale. He looks kinda young and is much more agile than people his age, but not to a ridiculous extent. Further explanation? Sorry am dumb B)

- Any other questions?

I forgot what else I was gonna say, so just ask if you want xD