Be Careful What You Wish For

Anatomy of a Villain

"Don't leave me!"

If he had to rate his landing technique, he'd give himself a seven out of ten. Could use some work, but pretty decent all thing considered.

He patted Kota's head with a hum. "Go and wait behind that tree over there, please. I'll be back soon."

"What?" Kota gaped at him. His pupils narrowed to pricks and he glowered with something akin to betrayal. "No, don't you dare—"

"Don't worry. I've got a pretty good idea of how to deal with this guy... I think."

"You think?!"

"Eighty percent sure?"

"Quit your blabbering and face me, you brats!"

Izuku cocked his head. He scowled at Muscular, who stood flexing his biceps behind the duo. Izuku pushed gently on Kota's shoulder.

"Come on," he urged, casting a beseeching look the other's way. "I promise I'll be back for you."

Kota's lower lip trembled. He looked like he wanted to interject, but when he glanced over to the posturing villain, a heart stricken expression jumped his face. His hat had survived the fall this time, so he pulled it over his eyes before leaving with hurried steps to hide behind the trunk of the closest tree, as per Izuku's instruction.

The teen turned to his adversary. He took a moment to consider his options. With a pull of his mouth and a shrug, he went ahead and asked what had been on his mind since the last reset.

"I'll fight you, but before that... what can you tell me about the other villains that came here with you?"

Muscular tilted his head. "Hm... them? I don't really give a shit about them so I can't tell you much. Not that it would help anyways, since you—"

"—'ll be dead soon, yeah. But come on. There must be something you can tell me about them. How many are there? What are their quirks?"

Muscular made a strange face at the string of questions. It was something like a pout while simultaneously showing of his clenched teeth. He looked like he was itching to punch something, but evidently liked the sound of his own voice enough to humor his would-be victim.

"What is this, an interview? But fine, fine, I'll play along... not counting me, seven. No, wait, eight! Maybe nine."

Izuku kept a frustrated sigh at bay. He waited for Muscular to continue digging his party's own grave.

"There's the crazy bitch—not sure what her deal is, or her quirk for that matter—and then there's the fire fuck. Asshole think he's cosplaying a scarecrow or something. There's also the ninja turtle wannabe and... ugh," the man shook his head. He creased a thin ash-blonde eyebrow. "I changed my mind. This is boring. Why the fuck am I answering some little punk's questions when I could just pound him to dust instead?"

Izuku widened his stance but kept his arms by his sides. "Because you're such a nice, upstanding citizen?"

Muscular raised a brow. Apparently, he didn't see fit to deign Izuku's banter with a response, settling for a silent scowl. The bushy haired boy bit into his cheek. He raised his guard.

"Well... let's see if you could answer one more question for me."

He jumped. With a horizontal launch, he raced fist-first toward the man like some two-bit amateur. Or like a student with no prior fighting experience. Muscular grinned, raising his pulsating red-threaded arms in front of him. Just before the moment of impact, Izuku unclenched his fingers and switched from the perfectly televised punch to a grapple. He curled the digits around a bulging wrist, so thick his thumb didn't even touch the tips of the rest of his fingers. Muscular's face changed from already assured victory to surprise as Izuku used his secure hold to swing his legs up like some kind of circus act, the tips of his feet aimed for a single minded goal.