Licensed Villains

Push

Izuku's not really sure how long it's been since he ended up in the cell. Charlie says that's a side effect of their containment; time is without existence here. Hours can drag on like days and flash by like seconds. Izuku tells him it could be a mind trick the commission's playing on them. His new friend laughs at that. 

There is some truth to what Charlie says. Grey walls and dim yellow lights stretch at time like it's an elastic band, forcing it to feel longer and longer till he starts questioning if he's counting at the right pace for a clock. It's agonizing in the sense that he knows what hour it is shouldn't matter. Time is relevant, and yet he finds himself lost without it's presence. 

Or maybe that's just the boredom getting to him. 

It's a shame the commission took away all his possessions. He's missing his notebook immensely right now (and also the fidget cube that used to be stashed in his thigh pocket). He tried to make a game out of the bland food they're given but realized food was more valuable in his stomach than as an entertainer. 

He busies himself instead with pestering Charlie. The man doesn't seem to mind when Izuku starts asking him where he learned how to hack. Apparently it'd been his hobby since he was a kid; he won all sorts of competitions for it when he was young before he aged out of most programs. After that he got scouted by some shadier groups and started to do work for vigilantes and select villains (always depending on their motives and targets). 

When he turned the questions on Izuku, the boy had only shrugged and claimed to learn through online classes. He was baffled, asking him how he gets so much high security information, like Ayumu's existence. Izuku felt his ears turn red when he answered that all he had to do was walk through the front door. People are so worried about online information nowadays that they forget about the paper copy. Charlie had laughed at that too. 

Izuku thinks Charlie likes him. He fusses over his bruises and cut lip too much not to. Charlie's not so bad either. If Izuku had met him anywhere else, he wouldn't have thought him to be anything but a middle aged man living his best life. One of those older people who talk about their kids and job a ton, except replace kid with niece in Charlie's case. Komori is going to kill him if he ever finds out the sorts of stories Charlie has been sharing with him. 

So he has Charlie, but that's it. Ayumu's stopped by twice to deliver food and water though she never stays long, always rushing away before he can talk to her. He thinks she feels guilty. He wants to tell her not to be. 

There's the guards too, he supposes. They're not interesting though. They simply stand on either side of the cell for hours on end, rotating shifts and never saying a word to him. The guards that beat him up the day before never come back but that doesn't keep Izuku from moving to the shadows each time a new set of guards walk in. 

He was expecting another beating after a day passed. Instead, he found himself sitting in a whole other room, no guards in sight. 

Izuku isn't proud to say he's uncertain how he got there. He has half the mind to consider the empty room a trick of his thoughts; a hallucination brought forth through boredom. He knows better than that though. 

There's a large glass pane nailed in place directly in front of him. Through it, he can make out Charlie in a chair not too different from his own, plastic arms winding into an equally plastic seat and set of legs. Charlie's body is hooked up to several wires connected to some odd machine with dozens of dials. His hands are strapped to the chair, eyes wandering off into the distance. 

Izuku can guess how they got there. 

"Charlie!" he shouts. He waves, hoping to catch the mans attention. He doesn't like the idea of them being stuck in here.