The Middle of April
The middle of April, exactly two weeks after the school year began, around 8:34 in the evening. Izuru was acutely aware of his surroundings, as he always was. He had planned his course of actions right down to the minute, as he always did.
Currently he looked different, an intentional disguise. His hair was braided and hidden underneath one of his brother’s spare uniforms. A black half mask on his face, the black gloves his brother had bought for him two years ago were adorning his hands. When the two of them were little Hajime would always joke that he could blend in the night like some sort of demon, this time it was intentional.
Izuru was a man on a mission, one that had already started. It took a bit of time for him to memorize the schedules of the people in his dorm building and those of his three targets but it was worth it.
He moved through the cracked walkways of the Reserve Course campus, looking, analyzing, as he always did.
The spike in beatings in the Reserve Course was a well known fact to him, even before Yukizome had told his class about them. With this pathetic display of power over the first years came a lot of sloppy jobs, no one in the Main Course faculty cared or noticed the very easily solvable cases. But Izuru knew, Izuru watched, Izuru noticed. Mistakes upon mistakes upon mistakes, everything he saw, everything he noticed was a mistake.
For example, a beyond obvious style in some beatings led him to the three third years who attacked his brother.
They were the most obvious culprits he had ever seen, pathetically flaunting their weakness. Tonight they had organised themselves, something Izuru was very surprised about, since he couldn’t imagine such flimsy creatures having enough brain power to know how to organise themselves. Their “plan” was to meet in the back of the school, all of them coming at different times, and from there to pick someone random and proceed with their idiocy. Mistake.
As he observed his first target exit the dormitory he made a move, flowing from the shadows of the night into the shadows of the worm he was following. The target took one step, Izuru took two, slowly, surely, gradually, until he was close enough.
A calculated movement of his hand slammed the pathetic thing right into the side of the building, robbing it of its consciousness for some minutes.
His second target met the same fate, so did the third. He dragged them all to their meeting place behind the school, then dropped them on the ground like Sunday garbage bags.
Here came the part he was expecting most. Izuru had thought about how he would approach this moment for a day, maybe two. He didn’t waste any time and with a planned swing of his leg his heel came crashing down on the second guy’s nose. A satisfying pop vibrated through his ears.
Before the guy could even process what was happening Izuru brought his foot down on his jaw, applying enough pressure to hear another pleasant pop. He quickened his pace, bringing his foot down on the student’s neck, once, twice, then applying more pressure on it’s chest, stomping once, twice, three times, four. He heard a rib cracking.
Izuru kicked the guy one final time in the head before he moved to the one next to him. This one received a broken nose as well, a few well placed kicks in his neck and chest and for good measure, Izuru had decided this on the spot, he came around and broke both the boy’s legs, twisting them just enough to be disturbing to the unfortunate passerby who discovered his handiwork.
The third guy received much the same treatment, a broken nose, a battered neck and chest. It was starting to get dull to Izuru so he took it out on the thing’s jaw, kicking it a bit harder than he originally planned and taking out a few teeth.
By the time he was done there was three times as much blood on the floor than when he found Hajime. His shoes were splattered red, like he had just raided a wine cellar without knowing what he was doing. His gloves were clean, he took them as a “good luck charm”, not that he would need it but it felt pleasant to have them on his hands anyways.
Izuru looked at the moon, exactly 6 minutes before curfew, plenty of time. He didn’t bother looking at the carnage he left behind the school, it wasn’t satisfying enough but he had to set boundaries. It would be of no doubt that Hope’s Peak wouldn’t care less for the death of three Reserve Course students but it would cause more suspicion in his brother and the two SHSL Detectives than he would like to deal with.
He directed his eyes at one of the backpacks that had fallen to the ground, it’s contents everywhere on the dirty ground, among them a pack of tissues. Luck was always on his side, it was fact. Although he couldn't care less for his shoes he wiped them clean, dealing with bloody shoe prints was not something he wanted to deal with right now.
He stepped into the Main Course’s dormitory, no one was around to see his unusual appearance, just like he expected. With light feet he stepped into his room, Izuru had to wash his brother’s uniform and return it before he noticed it was missing, else he would get accused of trying to steal his identity again.