The Flap of a Butterfly's Wings

Vivamus

Izuku is terrified, and anyone who says anything different is a fucking liar. He's always scared. Whether it's an extra thump of his heart or a cold sweat that transitions into a storm of anxiety. He doesn't remember a time where he hasn't been scared. Perhaps that's why he's survived for so long. And it's important to know that Izuku doesn't hate fear, it reminds him that he's human, but it's not the easiest feeling to deal with.

    Especially when he's supposed to be acting casual in front of a villain group.

    Izuku is without a mask, wearing only black cargo pants and an oversized navy sweatshirt as protection. He has throwing knives hidden in his red shoes, but that's it. Not unless you count four quirks, but he's trying to stay discrete to remain quirkless.

    It's been three days since the meeting with the heroes and everything is set in place, waiting to take motion. He has a hidden earpiece and a small black button to alert the heroes what's going on. For obvious reasons, the earpiece is to talk to heroes and to inform them of any necessary information. The black button, smaller than his thumb, is for emergencies. It'll alert any hero on the mission immediately after pushing the button down for three seconds. It also serves as the signal for when he's ready to bust out with Eri.

    So here he is, standing near the front gates of Shie Hassaikai, urging his hand to move and press the doorbell. Which, to him, is so weird that a villain organization would have a doorbell. Who's going to ring it? The pizza man?

Breathing in, Izuku rings the doorbell. It doesn't take more than a couple of seconds for the intercom to come on, a high pitched voice speaks through, "Who are you? What do you want?"

Izuku releases his breath and pulls his shoulder back. Standing as tall as his five feet and three inches will let him. "I'm homeless, and am willing to do anything. I need a job. I don't care what it is or what kind of... business you need me to do," he says. His voice is desperate, but not too desperate. He has a semblance of losing control, but hasn't quite yet.

A new voice comes through the intercom. This one the exact opposite of the other person: low and impossibly scratchy. Like he screamed for hours on end and damaged his vocal cords.   
   
"Anything, ya' say?" The man asks.

Izuku nods even though they can't see it, or, he doesn't think they can't see it. He didn't notice any cameras when he scoped the place the day before.

"Yes. I'm tired of being out in the dirty streets, having people look down at me in disgust."

"How old are ya'?" The deep voice questions.

Izuku winces at that question. He doubts that they would let a fourteen year old into Shie Hassaikai, so maybe he should lie. He does look older for his age. Maybe he could pass as sixteen.

    But if they catch him on that lie? Then they would surely turn him down.

    He takes the risk and answers, "Fourteen, sir." Both of the people on the speaker laugh at this, probably thinking he's lying. Izuku doesn't say anything, knowing that they would find out that he was telling the truth sooner or later.

    "Yeah, right," said the squeaky voice. "You got some nerve coming here. Pretty fucking stupid if you ask me."

    Good thing Izuku didn't ask him, then.

    "Le' me ask the boss," the other man says. Izuku waits, hands in his sweatshirt's pocket, trying to get them to stop shaking.

    He hears footsteps coming from inside that property, and then a door closing. The steps come closer until Izuku could hear the other person's breath and smell the sanitizer practically washed over them.