Oni and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Night

The sun had finally set, and Izuku was preparing himself for his nightly venture.

First, he changed, physically, back into Oni. His snake tail shrank back and split into human legs. His wings shrank slightly and changed in color. Facial features shifted and changed until they were no longer recognizable as 'Izuku's.' And his hair receded back into his head, turning pitch black as a pair of equally dark horns emerged.

Next, he got dressed into his usual outfit. Undershirt, then red dress shirt, tucked into black slacks that sat over his boots and were secured by a black belt with a silver buckle. Then came a pitch-black tie around his neck, followed by a matching button-down vest, and finally, his black leather gloves. To top it all off, he donned the metal kitsune mask, lined with foam and leather on the inside and secured with a simple strap buckled behind his head.

With the exception of the boots and the mask, everything was a fresh duplicate of the items he had worn the night before. He made sure to have plenty of copies of everything he liked to wear; what with the nature of his work being particularly risky to clothing.

As he stepped out onto the balcony, breathing in the cool night air, he picked out a few quirks from the bundle in his chest, pulling them up to stay for the night.

Two general strength and speed enhancers, two durability enhancers, and the newest addition to his collection, 'Spectrum.' He figured that he might as well get some live practice with it.

There were others that he picked out but didn't activate just yet, ready to be pulled to the surface at a moment's notice, such as his claw quirk, should they be needed.

These all combined with those that he normally kept active, whether he was Oni or Izuku. His intelligence quirks, energy stockpilers, 'Insomnia,' 'Proximity,' 'Appraisal,' two of his strength and speed quirks – one each – and a few other quirks that had a bit more specific activation requirements, but whose effects were greatly useful.

After spending years training and experimenting with his natural quirk, he knew what his limits were, and having all those quirks active at once was well within them.

He could still experience quirk exhaustion of course, but he'd found that it wasn't necessarily based around how many quirks he had, or how many he had active at a time. There weren't any drawbacks to simply having a quirk active, but when he used it, he needed to keep in mind the limits that came with it. He could have any number active at once, but however many there were, he had to be careful of the limits and exhaustion brought on by using them.

For example, the strength quirk he usually kept active relied upon the body's energy to enhance strength, rather than increasing muscle mass. Having it active didn't drain him so long as he wasn't exerting it.

If he had several active but wasn't using them, or at least not extensively, then it wasn't an issue. But if he was using them, the exhaustion would compound with their effects.

Additionally, regarding his own quirk, the only exhaustion he really experienced as a result of using it was from how fast he activated other quirks. It was based around how long he went between individual quirks, not how fast a single one activated – that was always instant.

As far as he knew, he could potentially have all of his quirks active at once, so long as he didn't try to do it too fast.

The quirks he always kept active were all relatively low drains on his stamina. Really, the biggest drain was 'Insomnia,' and even then it wasn't an issue.

Between his constant use of his quirks, and a select few of those, such as his energy stockpilers, he'd increased his limits quite a bit.

That was why he started the night by activating quirks. So that, if it became necessary, he'd be fresh to pull on as many quirks as he needed.

Finally prepared for the night ahead, he hopped up onto the balcony railing. Smirking, he leaned forwards, falling off the building. His wings flared out after a moment, catching the air as he glided into the night.

---

Oni frowned as he took in the scene in front of him. This was not how he saw tonight going.

Right there in front of him, in some random, insignificant alleyway, was a corpse.

It wasn't just any corpse, either. It was a Pro Hero.

Tectonic, the Earthen Hero. A mid-level pro that could control rocks, going so far as to be able to tear up chunks of roads or buildings to use against villains.

He'd had his eyes on this hero for a while, and not only for their interesting quirk. For some time now, Tectonic had been stealing money using a fake charity. People would donate money and it would just go straight into his pocket.

Oni had considered paying him a visit, or maybe just simply exposing him, but ultimately decided that it wasn't worth it. The man was still a hero. He did his job and he did it well. Besides, the only people that he hurt with his little scam were the people that made the mistake of donating to him. If they were stupid enough to not thoroughly research a charity before giving it their money, then that was their fault. The benefits of keeping him around outweighed the crime.

Even if he had decided to intervene though, the man hadn't deserved this. To die alone in some dirty alley.

He moved closer, crouching next to the body and taking in the details to attempt to work out exactly what happened. The man wasn't in his hero outfit, and at this time of night – with the blood still fresh – he had probably been out drinking. The cause of death was obvious enough; the single stab wound directly through the heart. Aside from that though, there wasn't much to see. He could see a single long cut – really more of a scratch – along his cheek, but nothing else. He expected to see something that indicated a struggle; maybe pieces of disturbed earth from his quirk, more injuries, or even bruises on his hands or dirtied clothes; but there was nothing.

He knew how capable Tectonic was when it came to combat. Even drunk, the man would've been able to put up a fight. So to see the man dead with seemingly no struggle of any kind…

It didn't paint a pretty picture in the slightest.

Oni could think of a few people off the top of his head that might be able to pull something like this off, but to his knowledge, none of them were in his city. And, from that list, there were even fewer that would even have a reason to do something like this in the first place. It would've taken effort, which means they had real motive.

Really, going through the list and narrowing it down with what he knew – especially with the wounds the hero had – left him with only one real possibility. He put his head in his hands with a groan. If it was who he thought it was – and damn how he hoped it wasn't – then he wasn't ready for that headache at all.

"Phantom." He called out the nickname he and Rei had chosen for if he ever needed to address her while he was out as Oni. He thought the name was a bit boring, but it served its purpose.

He'd wanted her to take the name Medusa, but she thought it was a bit on the nose.

"What is it?" came the response.

"We have a problem. Potentially a major one."

"How bad?" She asked, tone taking on a more serious edge.

"There's a good chance that he is active in Musutafu."

"…Oh."

They had discussed the possibility of this situation enough for her to know immediately who he was talking about. That man was the only person he'd ever found that might actually present a true danger to him, even with his quirks. Or at least, the only one that was free. There were plenty of monsters locked up in Tartarus that he'd much rather avoid.

"Start looking for him please. The faster we get a handle on this, the better. He's already killed at least one since he got here, I'd like to make sure he doesn't get a second."

"I'm on it. What are you going to do?"

"For now, I'm going to try my best to find him so I can get him out of my city."

"Be careful."

"…Yeah."

He took out his phone. Before he started his search, he had to make a call that he more than likely wasn't going to enjoy.

He held the phone to his ear after choosing the contact, listening to it ring. He didn't have to wait long.

"Oni, what have you done now?" Tsukauchi complained as soon as the call connected, sounding as exhausted as ever. "I haven't even finished dealing with last night's mess. I wasn't able to credit Eraser for t-."

"Tsukauchi." He cut in, not wanting to have to listen to the lecture continue on.

His uncharacteristically serious tone succeeded in shutting the detective up. "Oni? What is it? What's wrong?"

"You need to send someone to my location. Now." He answered. "I found Tectonic. He's dead."

"You- what?" The detective floundered. "You-. You didn't kill him, did you?"

He scoffed. "Of course I didn't. I've not killed anyone in the entire time I've been a vigilante and, what? You think all of a sudden I'm just going to kill a Pro Hero out of nowhere? I know I'm not exactly a saint, but give me some credit, Tsukauchi. Shit."

"Right, right. Sorry. I'm just-." He sighed. "This is just a shock. We found another dead hero just last week. I don't like the trend that you finding another one indicates."

Oni just grunted in response. Damn, so there was already another one that he'd somehow missed. This was worse than he thought; If the other hero had been killed by the same person, then they'd already been in the city for at least a week without him noticing, maybe even longer.

"So, tell me what happened. How did he die?" The detective questioned. "And do you know who did it? Obviously they weren't there when you showed up. Otherwise you'd probably have dealt with them."

"From what I can tell, it was a single stab wound through the heart. And I'm not really seeing any signs of a struggle."

He sighed. "As far as who did it? I have an idea, but it is by no means a good one."

"Well? Who is it?"

"I'm not going to tell you right now. You'll have to wait until after I've confirmed it. If I told you, you'd no doubt have Eraser, or some other underground hero, out searching for them. And that's not a showdown I want to see happen."

"…Fine. I'll trust your judgement, Oni." The other responded after a moment. "If you think it's someone that bad. Just keep me posted and please be careful."

He hung up at that, before quickly sending his location. Sparing one last glance at the unfortunate hero, he spread his wings and took off, straight into the air. He wanted to get an aerial view to start planning his search.

He didn't make it very far.

Just as he reached the roof of one of the adjacent buildings, he felt something wrapping around his torso, pinning his arms to his body along with one of his wings, the other thankfully folding properly against his back.

An instant later, he was being flung through the air, slamming into the roof on his side, and unfortunately right on top of the wing that was pinned. He grit his teeth at the audible crack that rang through the air and the sharp pain that immediately bloomed from the appendage, sending stars across his vision.

"Are you okay!?" He heard Rei's voice in his ear. "What the hell was that noise!?"

Choosing to ignore her for the moment, he lifted his head, directing his attention to the person – he already knew who it was – who had decided to throw him into a building as a greeting. He saw the scowl – paired with red eyes and floating hair – decorating the usually apathetic face.

"Nice to see you too, Eraserhead." He said through gritted teeth, doing his best to work through the pain.

"Shut up!" The hero snapped, surprising him. He'd seen the hero annoyed before – his quirk was usually a good indicator of that, flaring with his mood – but he didn't think he'd ever seen him truly angry before. "What? Did you get tired of just fighting criminals? Decided that you'd start killing heroes?"

Dropping his head back to the ground with a groan, Oni wished his arms weren't pinned; he really wanted to hit something - or at least give Eraser the finger. He settled for an annoyed sigh instead.

"I didn't kill anyone, Eraser. As I was JUST explaining to Tsukauchi, not even two minutes ago, I found him like that."

"And why should I believe you? You're exactly the type of person to start a fight with someone just for kicks. And finding you next to the fresh corpse is pretty convincing evidence in my opinion."

Oni bit back a groan as an involuntary twitch brought a fresh wave of pain from his wing. This fucking night was really starting to get on his nerves, and he was only an hour into it.

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe because it's the fucking truth? You dumbass." He snapped, watching as the hero recoiled slightly at his words, not expecting the anger. He normally wouldn't be so crass – he made an effort to maintain his happy, carefree persona when he was out as Oni, even if he was fighting people and terrorizing criminals – but being accused of murder twice in five minutes, plus the possibility of a serial killer running around his city was putting a serious damper on his mood. Not to mention the pain that was radiating from his broken wing, which he was still laying on.

"Call Tsukauchi if you really want to." He said, practically growling with how strained his voice was. "But I've literally not killed a single person the entire time I've been a vigilante. I'm not about to start with a hero that I've got no reason to even dislike."

Not entirely true, but that wasn't important; he had reason enough to dislike Tectonic, but not enough to warrant their death.

"Not to mention, he was killed by a stab wound. I don't use weapons. I don't even own any for shit's sake."

Again, not entirely truthful. He did have a blade quirk. But it wasn't like Eraserhead knew that.

He saw the hero hesitate, before taking out his phone, causing him to growl in equal parts frustration and pain.

"Could you at least let me get up?" He questioned. "I can't exactly go anywhere. Your friendly greeting broke my wing and I'm about ninety percent sure it's a compound fracture. Y'know, the wing I'm lying on top of?" He heard Rei's panicked exclamation in his ear at his words.

The hero winced ever so slightly at that, and he felt the capture weapon loosen around him. He went to sit up, doing his best not to jostle the wing any more than necessary. He wasn't very successful, as the resulting burst in pain made his vision flash white and almost knocked the wind out of him.

He could hear Eraser talking to someone – presumably Tsukauchi – as he looked over at his injured wing, now splayed awkwardly across the ground next to him.

'Yep. Definitely compound.' He thought to himself as he inspected the injury.

Both the Radius and Ulna were broken; that part of the limb was bent in a very unnatural way. He could see where the two bones were poking through the skin, exposing themselves to the night air. This meant that there was a fair amount of blood dripping onto the roof beneath him; he could see where it was staining the capture weapon too.

'Great.' He thought with resignation. 'As if tonight hasn't been fan-fucking-tastic enough already. Now I'm going to have to wash blood out of my clothes too.'

At the very least it wouldn't stain; fortunately, his aesthetic just happened to be colors that couldn't really be stained by blood.

Just as he was contemplating how he would go about setting the bone back in place so he could start healing it, he noticed Eraser looking at him, phone now put away. The anger that had been present in his face just a minute ago had been replaced by something else. Guilt, if he wasn't mistaken; Eraser's emotions were normally hard to read, and right now he was preoccupied by the spike of pain driving into his mind.

After a moment of the two staring at each other, Oni threw his hands up in frustration, ignoring the flare in pain even that little bit of movement caused. "If you're not going to apologize, the least you could do is make yourself useful and help me set the bones back in place."

Eraserhead started towards him, phone still out and ready to dial someone. "Let me take you to the hospital so you can get that looked at."

Oni forced a single, harsh laugh from his throat. "No thank you. I don't need to go to a hospital. I can handle it."

"Kid, seriously. You need to go a hospital for that. That isn't something that can be fixed easily."

"Right, because you are obviously an expert in wing anatomy and biology." Oni responded, pouring as much sarcasm into those words as he could. "Of the two of us, which one actually has wings, and therefore would be more likely to know about this shit?"

He huffed in frustration when the other didn't move, slamming a fist down onto the roof just to dispel some of the pent-up energy. "Dammit! I don't need a fucking hospital, Eraser. What I needed, was to not be hurt in the first place! But apparently you decided to act without using your fucking brain first. Attacking me even though I would've stopped to talk to you anyway if I knew you were here!"

He slumped down where he was sitting. Damn, his wing was really hurting. Even the breeze brushing across the exposed muscle and flesh made it burn. And it hurt to even fucking breathe. "I know what the fuck I'm doing Eraser. Are you going to help, or not?"

He hesitated for a moment, before walking towards Oni. "What do you need me to do?"

"Just, fuckin', grab the end of the wing and pull. It needs to fully extend so I can reset the bone."

The hero knelt on the ground and grabbed the wing, as instructed – just that little bit of movement already hurt like hell.

"This is going to hurt." Eraser oh-so-helpfully informed him.

"Yeah, no shit." He snapped, shooting a glare at the hero. "I've got it covered, just start pulling when I tell you." He practically threw his gloves off, and started fumbling with his shirtsleeve buttons before deciding it was taking too long.

'Screw it.' He decided with a huff, before pulling on 'Demonic Claws.' The scales tore through his shirt as they traveled down his arms. Once that was done, he put his now claw-covered hand in his mouth, biting down on the knuckle. At the same time, he dropped the strength quirks he had in place; he didn't want to bite through his hand.

He took another moment to brace himself, before gesturing over at Eraserhead.

Immediately, his vision went white and this time, his breath was actually knocked out of him as the pain exploded in his wing. Through the pain, he pulled another quirk from his chest and tried his best to focus on it. He groaned past his hand as the fire in his limb flared even further, the broken bones popping back into place with a mighty 'crack!', before slumping in relief as the pain began to dissipate.

The quirk he'd used – and was still using – was a low-power healing one. It was useful of course, and he was glad to have it, but it wasn't nearly as good as he wished it was.

It wasn't any use for fights, only the aftermath. It required conscious effort to activate, and would only work while he remained focused on it. Meaning it was difficult to use in the chaos that fights normally dissolved into.

Despite that, he liked it because it could heal just about any wound, new or old, over time. Scars would fade and disappear, and lost limbs would slowly return over the course of weeks or months. So, it really was useful, but at the same time, he'd been on the hunt for a better healing quirk for some time now. Self-healing quirks were so much rarer than those that healed others.

After a few moments, the pain finally lessened enough for him to draw breath again. He dropped his hand to the ground, panting as he tried to catch his breath and steady his heart. Glancing over at where the wing had been broken, he could see that looked as though it was healing properly. The bones were still visible where they had torn through the surrounding muscle and skin, but even as he was watching, the damaged flesh was knitting itself back together to cover it. The pain was fading away to a dull throb.

A glance at Eraserhead showed the hero staring on in almost-concealed interest and shock.

"I didn't know that enhanced healing was a part of your quirk." The hero said, a rare show of slight emotion in his voice.

"There's a lot you don't know about me." He responded, voice rough from the pain he'd just felt, and the resulting exhaustion.

'If only you knew what my quirk really was.' He thought to himself as he watched the wound heal. 'You'd probably try to break my wing all over again before you dragged me away.'

They lapsed into an awkward silence for a minute, Oni still on the ground, resisting the urge to shudder at the odd sensation of muscle squirming around beneath his skin as it healed, and Eraserhead, still with his wing in hand, staring at the ground.

"How long will it take to heal?"

"It'll be functional in a few minutes – so long as it's not anything too strenuous – but it'll likely be sore for the rest of the night."

It was another few minutes before either spoke up again, then. "I'm sorry, Oni."

He looked over at the hero, who had finally stopped staring at the ground.

"For accusing you of killing them and for breaking your wing."

Oni let out a long sigh as he considered his response.

"Don't worry about it, Eraser. You had plenty of reason to suspect me; I'm not exactly someone who can be considered 'morally sound'. Besides, it's fine now." He said. "I apologize for my sour language."

"You don't have to apologize for that, kid. You were in pain, that's to be expected."

"All the same. I was already in a foul mood from observing the crime scene; if the culprit is who I think it is, then they are going to cause me no end of headaches."

"That's right. Tsukauchi said that you'd told him that you know who it is."

Oni shook his head. "I don't know for sure. I have a pretty good guess, but it is still just that; a guess. I hope to whatever gods people believe in that it isn't them."

He looked over at Eraser. "And before you ask, no, I won't tell you who it is."

"Why not? It'll help take them down quicker."

"No, it won't. It'll just make sure that you or some other hero encounters them that much faster. I don't want to see another hero killed by them."

He let out another sigh. "Let me put it this way. I'm not sure that even I could take them on and walk away unscathed. And you've seen me fight, you know what that says about them."

"Are they really that dangerous?" He asked with a slight look of surprise.

"Yes. Their quirk, combined with their skillset, and sheer amount of damn willpower makes them incredibly so. If any one of those things were missing, they wouldn't be nearly as much of a problem. But as it stands, I would almost be tempted to say that it would take All Might, or maybe a dedicated combination of heroes, to be able to take care of them."

"…Shit. So, what're you going to do?"

Oni got to his feet, Eraserhead following a moment later. He worked his wing around, testing it, and let out a satisfied hum when he found nothing wrong. At the same time, he pulled his strength quirks back out.

He turned back to the hero. "I'm going to go find them, and do whatever I can to get them out of this city."

He got a raised eyebrow in response. "Didn't you just say that you didn't think that you'd be able to handle them?"

"Yep~." He responded, popping the 'p'. Stepping back, he launched himself into the air; he made sure to launch with mostly just his legs, to take unnecessary strain off of his wing.

With that, he flew off into the night, already working up a plan for where to start looking.

He had just finished climbing through the air, settling himself so that he didn't have to do much more than glide, when Rei spoke up again. She'd been listening the entire time.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah." He replied almost immediately.

"…" Rei didn't respond to that. It was clear that she didn't believe him and was waiting for the truth.

A sigh. "I mean, yeah, it hurt, both my wing and the two of them accusing me of killing the hero, especially after working with them for years now, but I've healed, and they both apologized, so it's fine."

"If you say so, but once this mess is taken care of, I expect you to take at least one night off to relax."

He managed a small laugh. "If this ends up being the kind of mess I'm expecting it to be, I'll take an entire week off."

"Good. We both know that you deserve it. Now be careful out there. I'll let you know if I find anything on my end."

"I will."

With that, he shifted direction, moving off towards the first area he wanted to check.

---

Shouta watched as Oni flew away into the night. A frown on his face as he considered the vigilante.

He still felt the guilt burning through him at what he'd done. Just as Oni said, once he saw him next to the fresh corpse of a hero, all reason and logic left his mind and he attacked. He was supposed to be a pro hero. More than that, he was supposed to be someone that taught future pro heroes. And yet he'd failed to even think before he acted.

He'd just felt so angry. So betrayed. That Oni had done something like that when Shouta had known him for so long.

Shouta had first met him about five years ago. He'd been young; – too young, way too fucking young – short and scrawny with a high-pitched voice. His clothes had been a tattered pair of sweatpants and a stained hoodie rather than the suits he now wore that each looked more expensive than Shouta's entire wardrobe. And his mask had looked like some shitty plastic one that could be found in just about any store.

But despite his appearance, and the fact that he seemed like he couldn't be any older than ten, he hit hard enough to send thugs flying and tended to move faster than Shouta could even follow. Not to mention that his quirk never seemed to be erased by Shouta, with the exception of his clawed hands.

Pair that with his chaotic tendencies and the fact that he seemed to thrive off of the fear he inspired in others, and it didn't take long before his goal to capture Oni had become just as much about saving the random petty thugs of the night, as it was about getting the fucking crazy child somewhere safe.

Eventually though, he'd stopped really trying to capture the vigilante. As much of a pain in his side as the kid was, and as much of a paperwork nightmare as he was for Tsukauchi, it quickly became evident that Oni could handle himself. Although it wasn't like Shouta could even do much to capture him in the first place. The closest he'd come was when Oni had somehow been paralyzed by some thug.

Oni's partner – who he hadn't even been aware of until that moment – had called Shouta that night so he could go save him. Of course, he'd tried to take them in while he had the chance – as capable as Oni was, Shouta just wanted him off the streets where he could be killed – but he hadn't even gotten halfway there when Oni shred his capture gear and ran away.

Most of his attempts to capture the other either ended with Oni escaping, or with his capture gear getting damaged or stolen from him – strangely though, whenever the latter happened, it always turned back up at the precinct by the next night.

But Oni had never once actually fought Shouta. He would run and dodge, or destroy his gear if necessary, but he'd never once actually attacked.

Because of that, and because of the fact that, despite putting nearly every one of them in the hospital, he never killed any of the criminals he went against, Shouta had given up on trying to capture him. It simply wasn't worth his time. Underground heroes generally tended to be a bit more lenient when it came to vigilantes anyway. So long as they weren't killing people and were actually competent enough to not be a burden on them, it was too much of a hassle to do much about them.

Actually, after all the interactions they'd had and the fights they'd been in together, Shouta could almost say that he trusted Oni to a degree. Not that he would ever admit that out loud.

The kid still annoyed the hell out of him at times, and was more deserving of the title "Problem Child" than any of his students could ever be, but he'd had Shouta's back in enough fights to earn some trust. And yeah, maybe part of it was the fact that the kid was very open about Shouta being his favorite hero.

Obviously he wasn't a hero for the recognition or rewards, but that didn't mean it didn't feel at least a little nice to hear something like that.

Sue him. He was human after all.

But that trust he'd formed had been what made him so angry when he found Oni tonight. He trusted the other enough to not do something like that, to not cross that line despite his chaotic – bordering on sadistic – tendencies. So to come to the conclusion that he'd killed someone…

He sighed. Now that he'd acted so rashly, he wouldn't be at all surprised if any trust the kid had in him was now damaged, if not gone completely.

He shook his head, dispelling those thoughts. He could worry about that later, when he wasn't on patrol. For now, he could hear sirens in the distance, most likely coming to pick up Tectonic's corpse. He'd worry about the kid later.

---

Oni was just about at his wit's end. He'd spent the last few hours flying over what was probably half of the city, scanning the streets, rooftops, and alleyways with his thermal and night vision, hoping to catch a glimpse of his suspect, but there was nothing.

Absolutely nothing. He hadn't even seen any of the normal criminals that usually prowled the streets, let alone the person he was searching for. Between Oni and his suspect, it was as if everyone instinctively knew that it was too dangerous to be out and about right now, and had stayed in whatever hole they called home.

He hadn't exactly expected it to be easy to find them, but it was annoying nonetheless. Every second that passed without finding them only made the situation worse. And they'd already been in the city for at least a week.

What's more, is that his wing was starting to throb again. He didn't think it would break again – he was confident he'd healed it enough to be safe from that – but it still hurt enough to be a constant presence in his mind; he'd probably accidentally left some hairline fractures or something similar, and flying around for the last several hours certainly didn't help.

He grimaced. This night was really starting to try his patience.

---

"Screw it." He declared to the empty sky.

"What?" Rei asked.

"Screw it." He repeated. "I'm not having any luck with this, and I'd rather not end the night without getting something done."

"Alright, so what's the plan?"

"Same as it was before. The Trigger dealers."

"You sure you want to deal with them after everything else tonight?"

"Yes, I am." He responded. "If anything, I want to do it more after what's happened. Like I said, I don't want to go home without getting something done. If nothing else, then this'll help relieve some stress."

"Okay. Go for it. I'll keep an eye on everything through the cameras as per usual."

"Alright."

He adjusted his course, directing himself to the location he'd found.

He hoped that this would help improve his mood. Maybe he'd find a new, interesting quirk? Or maybe the people there would, at the very least, give him an interesting fight.

A few minutes later, and he was circling over the building. Unlike the night before, it wasn't a warehouse.

He thought it was rather amusing that most groups like that found refuge in abandoned warehouses. He supposed it made sense, warehouses dotted the entire city. They were huge, numerous, and more often than not, abandoned. There were few better places for the run-of-the-mill criminals to set up shop.

This group, however, had chosen a much better location. A skyscraper that had been halted mid-construction for some reason or another; not an especially tall one but still obviously a tower. All of the floors were there, along with the proper support to keep it standing and most of the walls, but none of the windows were there, leaving it open to the night air and providing clear lines of sight all around; good for keeping a lookout. On top of that, being in a skyscraper like that meant that any invaders would have to work their way up level-by-level in order to reach everyone – assuming they didn't have wings. Much better than one single floor, or worse, one single, large room.

There was the obvious downside of having less routes for escape, but the increase in defensibility made up for it.

He could tell, just from those few points, that these criminals were more competent than the ones from yesterday. Not too surprising really; dealing Trigger was a few steps above the normal recreational drugs.

Switching to his thermal vision, he could make out several figures walking or standing along the edges of some of the floors, keeping an eye out for people. He even spotted a few on some of the adjacent buildings.

That caused a smile to grow on his face. These people would be much more fun to play with than the ones from yesterday.

He was about to move, to start with the sentries on adjacent buildings, when something incredibly wrong in the corner of his eye caught his attention.

Since he was still using thermal vision, he could see the faint glow from the rooftops where they'd been absorbing heat the day before. Most had faded to very faint green, where they'd cooled in the night air.

In one spot though, he saw a void. There was nothing at all. The darkest color he saw in anything else was a deep blue, indicating almost no real heat, but this one spot was a mass of pure black; a void in the world.

He could see that the shape was vaguely humanoid, but focusing too hard on it was starting to give him a headache. Switching over to night vision, he could see that there was nothing there. Or rather, it almost felt like there was something there, but he couldn't see it. It was almost as if he couldn't get his eyes to focus on that one spot. Switching back to thermal eased the strain a little, at least like this he could tell that there was something there.

His mind started racing as he circled through the air. Given the humanoid shape, it was likely that this was the result of a quirk. It couldn't be a normal invisibility quirk, otherwise thermal would have revealed them.

It also wasn't a matter of something being cold enough to not show up, either. It was something that was directly making it so he couldn't look at it. The only reason he could even perceive them at all was by observing the lack of presence with thermal. Then there was the headache from trying to force himself to focus on them.

"So, a mental quirk then?" He mused. "Those are always fun. Something that erases one's presence perhaps? Or forces others to ignore your presence?"

His smile grew even larger at the thought of such a quirk. "Let's find out."

He dropped through the air, aiming for the rooftop with the void.

A moment before hit the roof, he pulled on a quirk that created a cushion of air beneath him, slowing him just enough to make his landing silent.

The instant his feet touched down, he launched himself forwards, hands outstretched.

As soon as he was close enough, he swung his arms through the air; almost scooping for them. When he closed his arms over his chest, he grew even more confused; he didn't feel anything. He saw the void in front of him, within his arms, but felt no physical sensation of any kind that would indicate he'd caught someone. The only confirmation he had, was noticing that his arms wouldn't come all the way to his body; there was a resistance of some kind.

"Oho. So it completely erases any kind of presence, not just visual but physical as well– and auditory, I'd guess, given that I've not heard you react."

His smile dropped a fraction when he realized he wouldn't be able to take the quirk like this. If he couldn't feel them in any way, then there was no way to know if he was touching their skin directly. Plus, there was a chance that it was also capable of hiding itself from his own natural quirk as well; that would count as having a presence.

"Here's how this is going to work." He announced to the empty space in his arms. "I know you can hear me. Release your quirk, now, and I won't slowly crush you to death in my arms. And just in case you were wondering, right now I have about enough strength in my body to snap you in half." He squeezed just a bit tighter as he said that.

"Alright! Alright!" Suddenly, there was a struggling person in his arms. Switching back to his normal vision, he saw a seedy-looking man with greasy hair and sunken eyes.

His smile returned full force. "Wonderful. Thank you for your cooperation. It'd be a shame to lose out on such an interesting quirk.

"Wha-." Their question was cut off by his hand clamping over their mouth – and damn. He just realized that he'd left his gloves back on the roof with Eraser. – Now that he was actually touching them, he could feel the quirk. He grabbed onto the warmth and pulled, gently this time, unlike how he had the night before. He saw them wince slightly at the uncomfortable sensation as he pulled the quirk into his chest.

As much as he would've loved to watch the disgusting little man writhe and scream as he took their quirk, he had the other sentries to think about. He didn't want to give himself away just yet just to punish one person.

He let the man go, and almost immediately they were scrambling to get away from him.

He saw a confident smirk on the man's face, just for a moment, before it was replaced by confusion and a bit of fear. He saw the exact moment that they realized they couldn't use their quirk; an involuntary shiver ran down their body as they tried to draw on the warmth that wasn't there anymore. They looked down at their hands, as if they held the answers.

"What?" They said, more to themselves.

"Ah, yes. Don't worry about that too much. I'm sure it'll come back eventually."

Just as they were looking back up at him, he leapt forward once more. His hand clamped over their face again, and an instant later their head impacted with the roof.

"Now then." He said, looking down at his own hands. "Let's see here."

He pulled on the newly acquired heat, feeling it spread across his body, and activated it once it had. As he did, a strange lightness suffused his limbs. It was strange – extremely so – his body still definitely held the same amount of weight, but at the same time it felt inexplicably lighter.

Well, he wouldn't know if it worked until he tested it.

He took off back into the air, heading to the closest sentry. When he touched down behind them, they didn't even react. He moved closer, intentionally scuffing his feet across the ground in an attempt to get a reaction, and still nothing. Moving directly beside them, he reached out and poked the side of their face, cautious in case it was a trap. Aside from a brief moment to scratch at their cheek; as if sating an itch; they didn't react.

Somehow, his smile managed to grow even larger than before. "Oh. I am going to have so much fun with this one.

After a quick use of 'Appraisal' to determine that they didn't have anything useful for him, he dispatched them just as he had the other.

Pushing down his quickly rising excitement, he took off into the air, moving to deal with the rest of the outside sentries.

Once they were all taken care of, he flew up to the roof of the tower. Most of the criminals were moving about on the topmost floors, with a few others spread out below. He wanted to see how many he could deal with before they started panicking.

Finding the stairs to begin working downwards, he double checked the quirk to make sure it was still active, before starting forwards.

He saw a few people moving around, most not really doing much of anything while a few seemed to be inspecting containers full of what he assumed was trigger.

A quick scan showed no quirks of value. But honestly? He didn't really care. He'd stumbled across this absolute gem of a quirk. It was so incredibly useful; if he had to rank it amongst all his others, it would probably place in the top five, along with those such as 'Insomnia' and 'Appraisal'. If he didn't get anything else out of this venture, then it wouldn't bother him all that much.

Walking over to one of the criminals, he grabbed them by the throat and slammed them into the ground. Another, standing a few feet away, met a similar fate as he headbutted them, sending them flying.

By the time he dispatched a third, the others had started to realize that something was wrong. Three of them ran over to the fallen to check on them, and he moved to meet them. Two fell with a punch to the head, while the third was sent flying with a kick to the chest, slamming them into a support pillar.

Now the rest were panicking, seeing three more of their comrades go down for seemingly no reason. They were scrambling, a few were calling out at 'him' to show himself, and most were readying their quirks. And, much to his amusement, he saw a couple actually inject themselves with a dose of Trigger.

The party was really starting now.

He watched on as they scrambled around him, his excitement rising with each call and panicked shout. Another kick sent one flying that had wandered too close. A laugh managed to escape his throat when he watched the one that juiced themselves accidentally swat one of their comrades into a stack of crates.

He couldn't help it after that, seeing the petty criminals scramble around like a disturbed anthill while he watched, completely hidden right in the middle of it all was just too much. He started laughing. Giggles, at first, but soon he was letting out deep, nearly maniacal laughter at the panic and confusion.

He didn't notice the light feeling in his limbs slowly fading away the more his excitement rose. Nor did he notice the one person that managed to notice him in the confusion of everyone rushing around.

Oni didn't notice the man approaching him from behind slowly raising their arm. Even the internal alarms given off by 'Proximity' were drowned out in the haze.

Not until said arm was flying through the air at him.

Instincts developed over years of fighting and surviving in the harsher parts of the city, both as Oni and Izuku, had him reacting before he fully realized what was happening.

The fist passed harmlessly over his head as he dropped to the ground, already spinning to look at his attacker. His mind was racing, trying to figure out how they were even seeing him right now. But, unfortunately, he didn't have much opportunity as another punch was sent flying, forcing him back; closer to the others, he noticed distantly.

Sidestepping yet another punch, this time able to move closer to counter, he kicked at the back of their knees, sending them to the ground. He gripped at the back of their head, forcing them down the rest of the way as he slammed them into the ground.

He didn't get any time to think as, once more, his instincts yelled at him. He spun around, ready to assess whatever was coming and move to dodge or attack as needed.

It was one of the few who'd juiced themselves. He could see the veins bulging across their exposed skin and the pupils that had dilated so much that the irises weren't even visible.

His eyes widened as he saw the fist already inches from his head. Evidently, he'd misjudged how fast they were with trigger coursing through their body.

The impact sent him flying backwards as pain exploded across the side of his face.

Of course, he couldn't just fly across the room and land on the floor, could he? No. That would be far too easy, and this night was proving to be anything but.

Before he could even think to try to get his bearings as he flew through the air, he was crashing into one of the support columns. Headfirst.

The pain of the impact, along with the harsh landing, jarred through his entire body and knocked him out of the chaos-fueled haze he'd been in, leaving him to analyze what had just happened, ignoring the pain flaring across his face as he lay on the ground.

Obviously, he'd become visible again, but how? He knew it most likely wasn't because someone had seen through it. If he couldn't see through it with thermal vision, and couldn't hear, or even feel the person using the quirk, then it was unlikely that anyone else could either.

A brief check told him that the quirk was still present in him and active – he dropped it, no sense in focusing on it if it wasn't working – so it wasn't that. The only thing he could think of, was that maybe it was his lapse in focus. Maybe the effectiveness of the quirk was dependent on his mental state.

'Damn. I should've used "Appraisal" on him before taking it. I don't know any of the finer details of it yet.'

Well, that was a mystery for later. For now, he had to address the fact that he had been thrown into a concrete pillar.

He stood up off the ground, brushing the dirt of his clothes and cracking his neck. Rubbing at the side of his face that was hit, just below the edge of his mask, he looked up and saw that all of the criminals that were still standing were now staring at him. The one on trigger looked like they were barely restraining themselves from charging.

"Hm? Oh, don't mind me, I was just-." His voice died in his throat when he looked down the nose of his mask.

The nose was crumpled, noticeably so, as was the entire right side as far as he could tell. No doubt from where it had slammed into the pillar. He could also see where paint was scraped and chipped off. Bringing a hand up to feel it, he almost winced at the dented, crumpled metal.

He felt his frustration at all of tonight's events beginning to return where it'd been forgotten in the face of discovering a new quirk.

He didn't really care that he'd been hit. The pain was superficial, given that he could still see and speak, and it wasn't like he'd never been injured before. But his mask…

This, more than anything else, annoyed the hell out of him. This mask was one of his most treasured possessions. Despite the fact that he took it out every night where it could be damaged – or rather, it was because it was a treasured possession that he took it out at night; something such as the mask did not deserve to sit stored away somewhere.

He'd been using it for years without it getting damaged. And now, because of some petty junkie criminal – and himself, he would admit – it was damaged in such a way.

Just one more thing added to the pile.

He could handle being accused of murder; it sucked that the ones who had done it were just about the only two people he trusted outside of Rei, but it wasn't the end of the world.

Having his wing broken by his favorite hero? Again, it hurt that someone he trusted �� and who he assumed at least tolerated him – had done it, but he could handle that as well, he supposed.

The possibility of a serial killer running around his city killing heroes? A massive headache, sure, but still manageable.

If he was being honest with himself, even the mask wasn't too big of an issue. It wasn't as if it couldn't be repaired; just take it to the right person with the right amount of money and it would be good as new.

The problem, however, was that all of this was happening to him in a single night. Any one of the problems he'd faced tonight, had they happened on their own, wouldn't have been a huge issue.

But no. Of course it all had to happen in the same night, one fucking thing after another.

He grit his teeth, grinding them together with the force of it. 'Fine. Time to stop playing nice.'

As he let go of everything that had been building up all night, he felt one of his quirks – rarely used with how specific its requirements were – begin to flare with it, accompanied by a definite surge of strength in his limbs and causing the throbbing pain in his face and wing to fade to background noise.

He took a step forward. To the criminals, it was as if the temperature in the room – open to the night air as it was – had just dropped several degrees and Oni had just grown by several feet with that one step.

"Y'know." He growled, the noise warbling through the air as the grip he had on 'Siren' began to waver. It sent sweat rolling down their backs. "I've been having a pretty shitty night tonight. But I was trying to move past that and ignore it, and I'd hoped that coming here to take care of you all would help."

He took another step forward. The criminals were now struggling to breathe in the face of his overwhelming presence.

"But now you've gone and fucked that up. You could have just rolled over and accepted that this was over, but you didn't. So, you know what? Fine."

He took a deep breath, lifting up his leg, before slamming it back down, cracking the floor beneath it.

"FUCK IT!"

Reaching into himself, he drew out a handful of quirks from his chest. Several strength quirks, and the speed quirks to match, each one falling into place in quick succession, burning like a bonfire under his skin. Lastly, he pulled out the quirk that filled his head, 'Quick Thinker,' and with it, the world slowed.

Then, he moved.

He launched towards the first criminal – the one on trigger that started this -, with enough force to crack the floor with each step. As wired as they were on the drug, he saw their eyes tracking his movement and the fist they tried to send to intercept him. Stepping around to the inside of the wild swing, he caught the arm in a grip harsh enough to all but shatter the bones beneath. He swung the brute up and over his shoulder, sending them flying into the same pillar he had hit.

With them dealt with, he moved on to the next. Moments later, every person on the floor had either been slammed into the floor, thrown into a column, or punched hard enough to break bones and knock out instantly. None escaped without suffering a broken bone or two.

Then, once they were all incapacitated, he didn't waste time searching out the stairs that led down to the next level. The anger burning through his veins was too hot to allow for something like patience. Instead, he simply stomped his foot down, sending cracks spiderwebbing across the floor as a section fell down.

Once he touched down onto the floor, he moved again, going from criminal to criminal, each one appearing to move half as fast as they should be, and putting them down.

On and on he went, through each floor, searching out the criminals and dispatching them. He was only just barely thinking enough to make sure he didn't use too much force.

He didn't stop until he hit the ground floor, shouting out his frustration loud enough to hurt his throat, and slamming the final criminal into a wall hard enough to crack it.

He stood there panting, trying to catch his breath as the dust settled around him. The anger and adrenaline were beginning to fade away, taking the surge from the quirk with it and leaving him with heavy limbs and a throbbing face.

Once his heartbeat had begun to settle, he took a deep breath and pulled the quirk away that was slowing everything. With the world running at its proper speed, he began pulling away the quirks he'd brought out. With each one, the last remnants of frustration bled away, and was replaced by exhaustion.

"Feeling better?" He heard Rei ask softly. Right, he'd forgotten in the midst of all that, that she was watching.

A sigh. "No. Not really. Now I just feel shitty and tired."

"Then come home and rest. You deserve it, after all the shit that's happened tonight. I'll let Tsukauchi know to go clean everything up."

"Right. Thanks."

He took off into the air, rising until he was well above the surrounding buildings. Angling himself in the right direction, he started gliding back home, making only lazy attempts to circle back to throw off anyone that might be trailing him.

When he finally reached his balcony, he landed with a less-than-graceful thud, stumbling forwards ever so slightly.

Entering through the glass door he began shedding his clothes, now partially covered in dry blood, and his mask, the front and side of it now crumpled inwards and missing large chunks of its coloring.

He stumbled over to his bathroom and into his shower, turning the dial randomly, not bothering to pay enough attention to set it to a proper temperature. Thankfully, it was hot water that came out instead of cold.

When the blood and sweat were finally washed off of him, he moved over to the mirror as per his usual process, only about half awake at this point, and set about correcting his appearance. He didn't bother changing his face back; just taking care of his horns, hair, eyes, and wings. Half of his face was covered in mottled bruises, and he didn't think he had it in him to heal them tonight.

Once he was back to being Izuku Etsumi – mostly –, he sluggishly made his way back into his room. He didn't have the energy to do much of anything right now; he'd exhausted himself with that stupid move, activating all those quirks at the same time after already having a long night.

He really didn't feel like doing anything.

Instead, he moved over to the pile of pillows and blankets in the corner of his room that made up his 'bed' and collapsed into it.

Sure, 'Insomnia' might make it so he didn't need to sleep in order to survive, and he might be able to counteract the exhaustion through energy stockpiling quirks, but exhaust those and he would feel it all the same.

He wanted to sleep.

So that's what he was going to do, coiling around himself, and wrapping up in a blanket as he settled in.

Suddenly, the floor beneath him started heating up, as it had in his office the day before. He sighed as he soaked in the heat. It had cost him a small fortune to have the system installed across most of his apartment, but damn was it worth it in moments like this.

He pulled 'Insomnia' back into his chest for the first time in months, and it wasn't long before the exhaustion fully took hold and he drifted off to sleep.

---

Rei watched from the door to his room as Izuku settled into the corner. She clicked the remote in her hand and watched him nearly melt in the resulting heat, falling asleep almost immediately after.

Even if the circumstances weren't ideal in the slightest, she was glad to see him relaxing after the night he'd had. It was probably the first time in months that he was actually sleeping; that 'Insomnia' quirk of his usually making it so he never slept.

He always pushed himself so hard, especially when it came to his vigilante work. She couldn't remember the last time he'd actually gone a night without going out as Oni to patrol the city.

She knew why he did it, of course. After everything the two of them had gone through growing up, up until just a few years ago, now that they were in a better place, he was doing what he could to right the wrongs of the world.

Where no one had come to save them from the monsters in the world, he was doing his best to make sure that never happened to anyone else.

She shuddered at the unwanted memories that were drawn to the surface by that train of thought. Shaking her head, she flicked off the light to Izuku's room and made her way back towards her office. She had a few hours to get some more work done before she would get some sleep too.