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On a certain street in a certain city, was a certain store.It was a large two-storey building with glass windows that let the sunlight in, and patterned wallpaper that turned yellowish with age. A thick purple curtain hung in front of the windows, tied back with red string. Tables laden with old antiquities and racks on the wall displayed the merchandise; dolls hewn from wood, bronze teapots older than time, an expensive-looking persian rug.The bell above the door chimed when people walked through the front door, alerting the clerk from her daydreaming haze.She had some form of spider quirk. Where her mouth would be was instead replaced with snapping mandibles. Eight beady yellow eyes followed every footstep. Her arms, all eight of them, folded delicately atop the counter she sat at. “Welcome!” she hissed, though not unkindly, in a sing-song voice. “Tell me if there’s anything you’d like, anything at all.”In front of her was a tall, intimidating man, and a wide-eyed teenager. Well, he would be wide-eyed if his eyes were visible beneath the bleak grey hood he wore. It was clearly not his size; the sleeves were too long and the fabric hung awkwardly past his thighs, almost reaching his knees.But it hid his messy green hair, and shielded his face from recognition.The man beside him cleared his throat. It was easy to pay attention to him; he gave off the feeling of death and humans who naturally feared death, would always turn their wary eyes on him.Like the kid beside him, he obscured his face. A medical mask covered everything below his eyes. Stringy strands of black hair poked out from underneath the beanie he wore. Aside from the red of his eyes, nothing more could be made from his figure. A thick jacket covered every inch of skin, hiding the muscle beneath cloth.The spider clerk, Akifusa, knew how to take a hint. She kept her eyes low and away from their faces. “Here to see Ken?” A nod. Akifusa smiled. At least, she seemed like she smiled; the mandibles clacked against each other and it was hard to tell. She pressed a button on top of the counter. A small bulb beside it glowed. “Ken?” she spoke pleasantly, “there are some people here to see you. Open the door?”Behind the counter, a panel slid open and revealed a dimly lit room. Nodding their thanks, both figures walked through.The panel slid shut once again with nothing more than a dull click.The carpet muffled the sounds of their shoes.“Stain?” the boy, Izuku, started. His mentor, Stain, gave a grunt in acknowledgement as a signal for him to continue. “Musutafu is a large city. I used to think I knew it well before I met you, then we started going on rooftop runs.” The feeling of the wind against his skin, of the cold night air breezing by, and the glittering lights Izuku could almost see when he closed his eyes brought a smile to his face.It dropped quickly into a grim expression. “There’s a lot of crime though, too. Shady spots everywhere, stores selling illegal goods like drugs and weapons and other contraband, and I get why we can’t go to a regular store since you’re you and we did just take down Kingsman, plus a bunch of other small-time villains in unsanctioned vigilante work and it makes sense to go to some black market shop, but why did we go all the way to Corscan?”Were Stain a different man, he would have likely bemoaned at the spitfire mumbling, a gun of thoughts rattling bullets one after the other. But he trained Izuku, spent every afternoon with the boy teaching him the difference between a punch and a kick. When Izuku wasn’t desperately gasping for breath at the physical exertion, he mumbled.Stain was used to this.“Ken is the best weapons dealer for the underground,” he instead explained with a voice like shattered glass scraping across a chalkboard. “Getting into UA is difficult and you need decent weapons that can withstand whatever test they throw at you. If he worked in Musutafu, we wouldn’t have had to take the train.” He muttered the last sentence almost reproachfully.The hallway soon came to an end. A door stood alone, painted atrociously in ‘hideous orange’ with uneven purple pumpkins in blotchy paint.“Why?” Izuku sighed under his breath.Stain heard and scoffed in amusement as he pushed the monstrosity of a door open.The room beyond knocked Izuku’s jaw to the floor.Much like the previous room with the dozens upon dozens of antiquities, there were tables on the floor, and racks on the walls. Instead of antique jars and dusty clocks, the racks held aloft powerful guns and wicked blades.With a jerk of his head, Izuku tore his eyes away from a particularly shiny pair of nunchucks to look Stain in the eyes. This is why I brought us here, his face said. Stain gestured to the far side of the room.There was another door, just as hideously painted, but the trashy pumpkins were replaced with trashy witch hats. Or candy corns. Whatever the painted decor was, it was triangular in shape and severely lopsided. A few feet in front of the door was a sleek glass counter; several smaller gadgets were inside. Pellets, grenades, flashbangs, throwing knives.It was overwhelming, honestly, and Izuku swayed, eyes ravenously drinking everything in. The far door creaked open. Izuku latched onto the newcomer, mentally taking notes just as he did with the clerk in the antique section.The man, Ken presumably, looked like a desiccated corpse. Or a cadaver for scientific research. His skin clung close and was pulled taut, eyes sunken deep and lips pulled back to reveal ghastly yellow teeth. All of his body was stick-thin; if the Izuku from three months ago -the one without Stain, without drive, and without training- came inside and tapped Ken, the man would probably collapse.Still, he must have a good quirk. If Stain was right about him being the best weapons dealer in the underground, so much so that they went all the way to the neighbouring city of Corscan for his weapons, then he had some way of protecting himself.Ken stiffly walked to the counter, leaning on it just as stiffly. He adopted a clearly rehearsed pose and sighed in a blank voice. “You’re mumbling, child.” Izuku froze. Stain moved in front of him to break Ken’s line of sight. “Here for the usual, Taro Yamada-san? Or are you getting things for the kid?”Hearing Stain’s alias, Taro Yamada, dissolved the steadily growing bubbling of anxiety that rose in izuku’s stomach. He had to stop himself from laughing as Stain answered. “Both. Get the practice room while you’re at it.”Ken shrugged. “Didn’t expect you to be the type to take care of children, Taro Yamada-san.” Still, as requested, Ken fiddled with his keys in front of the witch-hat painted door, throwing it open to reveal stairs. “Pick something you like,” he said to Izuku with a carefully neutral voice.Izuku didn’t even bother to wait until Ken finished speaking before he flitted around the room, expertly maneuvering around the tables to inspect his options.In the background, Ken filled the silence with metal.Stain’s list contained an order to replenish the throwing knives he lost in fights, along with several blades for Izuku. Combat and throwing knives to assist Izuku in hand-to-hand fighting. A tanto to be slipped out of sight as a hidden weapon. A kodachi to be strapped across his back in an imitation of Stain's katana. Izuku wouldn’t like it, but the survival of Stain’s pupil preceded petty emotions.Izuku didn’t notice the hefty amount of sharp objects Ken attentively tucked into a chihuahua-print tote bag. His hands were reverently tracing a wooden staff. “How hard would using this be?” he asked Stain who followed him closely around the store to keep him from knocking anything over with his clumsiness. “I mean, it’s blunt, so I won’t kill anyone with it, and it gives me a mid to long range option of fighting.”“Your pacifism will kill you one day.” It was an argument that they had frequently. Despite accompanying Stain throughout Musutafu, taking out petty criminals and relatively harmless gangs, Izuku adamantly refused to take a single life. But the look in Izuku’s eyes kept Stain from arguing. Instead, he took Izuku’s hands off the wooden staff and handed him a metal one. “Get something more durable. If you think you can half-ass competing against other people from UA then you don’t deserve my time.”The harsh words stung, but not as much as they used to. Three months of being in Stain’s presence taught Izuku that man didn’t mean offense. He simply threw his brain-to-mouth filter out the window, along with any tact and sugar-coating. “I need to be prepared to fight other people if I get into UA,” Izuku translated, taking the staff in his hands. It was heavier than the wooden staff, but not as heavy as he’d expect. “This one is lighter than I expected. Metal must not be dense enough.”Putting the staff back, Izuku and Stain continued searching. “Aim for soft spots.” Stain stopped Izuku from moving and held up a staff beside him. It was far too tall. He put it back. “A staff is different from a sword or your fists. We’ll need more training if you don’t want to swing it around like a blind child.”The casual conversation was nice. It was warm, like Mom whenever she sat Izuku down on the couch and they both watched some mindless program on TV while they talked about their days. A store full of dangerous weapons wasn’t quite the comfort of a couch, but Stain was a comfort nonetheless.Earlier that day, they boarded a train late afternoon, bound for Corscan. It was only an forty-five minutes away by train, but Izuku, who had never been apart from Mom every since he was declared quirkless, found her absence palpable. Being with Stain lessened the weight of her absence somewhat.Stain calmly handed him two staves, chasing the loneliness away with an intimidating stare. The medical mask didn’t help. “Both of these are retractable. Durable. Heat-resistant. Heavy enough?”The staves were also the perfect length; not too long for Izuku to handle them poorly, not too short for it to be a glorified walking stick. “I think so.” Before Izuku could figure out which one he liked better, Stain took them both and hurled them at Ken.The clerk, thankfully, caught both staves with nothing more than a disgruntled look.“Training area upstairs,” Stain offered in explanation, already picking through the mess of other weapons. “You need close-range weapons.”Izuku sighed as he picked up a knife off a rack. The point pricked his finger when he tested its sharpness. “I’m assuming you got me a blade?” Izuku put the knife he was looking at back on the rack. When he glanced at Ken, he blanched. “Or several blades, rather.”There was a look on Stain’s face that meant… something. The man was pretty stoic. Understanding what he meant with his barbed words was a continent apart from deciphering whether the twitch of his eyebrow meant irritation or exasperation. If he was once again questioning why he had to have such a moralistic disciple or simply debating how he’d teach Izuku to use a staff.A minute passed. “A hero must be able to adapt to any situation,” he said finally. “And they must be prepared to sacrifice everything to do what is right. If you have to kill a villain to save a life, would you do it?” Izuku remained silent.“Pick a weapon.” It wasn’t a request and while Izuku’s head twisted and turned the moral dilemma of killing someone to save somebody else in his head, his body moved mechanically, going from weapon to weapon.The warmth Izuku was feeling ebbed.Izuku’s thoughts fought and warred and debated as he ran his fingers over a knuckle duster. At least Stain didn’t ask him to get a gun. The mere thought of firing one at another living person made Izuku want to throw up.“Do you think I can use these?” Izuku asked, his voice growing dull. He held a pair of tonfas in his hands.The dark shadow that had settled on Stain’s face passed. “They won’t be too different from knives.” Stain brought the tonfas closer to his face and nodded in approval. “These will do.” He tossed them to Ken. “Do you want anything else?”Izuku shook his head.Together, the two of them followed Ken up the staircase.Tatami covered every inch of the second floor. It was a wide open space, the only furniture being the shoddily constructed training dummies. Straw men with wooden frames stood guard around the room. They were more useful as decoration than actual tools.Ken set down two bags near the stairs. “Come down when you’re done.”Stain grunts. Izuku bows his head in thanks as Ken disappeared.The knife was slotted in Izuku’s hand. His fingers found the hilt and curled tightly around it. Izuku trembled when Stain took a defensive position before him. “You’re not going to die from lack of training, Midoriya.” His voice, despite being the same glass-grating quality as it always had been, flowed with an undercurrent of something else, an emotion that Izuku had yet to recognize in his mentor. “Come at me. I’ll teach you how to use a knife.”As an afterthought, Stain added, “And how to avoid killing a person when using it.”“Thank you.” The words were automatic, at this point. Izuku had a lot to be thankful for. Stain believed in him, made him feel like he could be someone, despite being quirkless. Izuku refused to kill; even if Stain told him to, he won’t.This was all for the sake of being a hero. And heroes don’t kill people; they should always strive to help and rescue as much as they could. But from Stain's words, it seemed that his mentor didn't expect Izuku to kill anyone either.With a deep breath, Izuku steadied his arm and charged.The sound of fighting filled the building, footsteps thudded on the ground in a frenzy as Izuku and Stain clashed. The depressing train of thought was derailed, smoke billowing to nothing, and the tracks slowly became undone.Izuku couldn’t think on his negativity when Stain flicked his wrist. “Aim for the tendons and ligaments.” Stain showed him how, expertly demonstrating a move that went through most defenses. “If your opponent can’t move, they can’t fight. Then your pacifist code won’t have to be broken by killing someone.”In a strange way, it felt like Stain was getting him to take his mind somewhere far away, in a world where Izuku didn’t have to debate on killing another person. Where the knife in his hand could simply be used to incapacitate instead of kill.The buzz of his mind was quickly overtaken by the thrill of fighting and Izuku stopped thinking. With fluid movements, they fought and traded words. Stain was brutal as he always was, yet careful to keep the knife away from deeper cuts and fatal injuries. A thin line from Izuku’s right cheek trailed down to his neck. A few more inches down, and it would have hit Izuku’s pulse, thrumming with adrenaline.It was at that moment Stain decided to stop training. “We’ll get you something to practice with,” he announced with no room for debate. Izuku, secretly, was glad. Stain was always in control of his movements, never letting their training spiral out of control, but three months wasn’t enough to rid Izuku of his fear and doubt. Stain understood that and he blessedly didn’t comment on it. “Until you learn how to use these weapons without hurting yourself, we’re practicing with foam and wooden weapons.” Izuku watched as Stain sheathed the blade and returned it where it belonged.“But if, for a second, I think you’re not taking this seriously…” he trailed off, but Izuku didn’t need Stain to finish the statement. I’m going to leave you to train on your own. That’s what Stain always said. Izuku didn’t know if he was being serious or not; he never disobeyed to see if Stain was simply bluffing.Next was the staff. Both of them. "We'll test them both out and see which one you like more." They took their stances. "Attack."When they got through all the weapons and returned down into the store proper, the door leading up to the training area shut on its own with a decisive click. Ken waited by the counter, leaning against the glass, again in an obviously practised (and rather uncomfortable) posture. “Welcome back.” Ken smiled, pulling his lips back and exposing all his teeth. If not for the blankness of his voice, Izuku would have thought him cheerful. “Want to get more things, or is this it?”The two bags wouldn’t be as bulky if not for the careful wrapping around each of the weapons. Most of the weight was from bubblewrap, and not the weapons themselves. Stain lifted both bags easily onto the counter. “Wait outside, kid.”Again, it wasn’t a request, and again, Izuku obeyed. He exited the room and walked down the hallway to the antiquities, steps muffled by the carpet. His thoughts trailed off, excitement and anxiety fighting for dominance in his head.Akifusa greeted him brightly. “You’ll have to wait for your companion before you leave,” she said. It wasn’t a suggestion, but Izuku planned to look around the store anyway. Mom allowed the trip to happen, despite her doubts, and Izuku wanted to get something for her. A souvenir, since she almost never has the time to take a break, and enjoy a vacation out of Musutafu. It was easier browsing for something Mom would like than it was picking out a weapon he’d use in the UA exam.Just as he narrowed down his choices down between a jade pendant and a lovingly painted tea set, Stain returned. He looked comical carrying two chihuahua-print tote bags with his grim expression. Izuku had to hide his grin behind the teapot he inspected. Akifusa didn’t bother hiding hers, laughing unabashedly. Stain continued to be grim.Izuku still mulled over the souvenirs. “Get the necklace,” Stain grunted. “Your mother works most of the time, right? Give her something to think of you when she’s not at home.” Well, Izuku couldn’t argue with that logic.They walked out of the building. Stain carried two chihuahua-print tote bags in each hand. Inside, resting against the weapons, were several arm and leg guards, along with support sleeves to keep Izuku from getting hurt too much. Izuku loosely held the handle of a paper bag in one hand, the necklace safely tucked inside. With the other, he sent a quick text to his mom. ‘Be home soon!’She was probably at work and couldn’t respond, but Izuku wanted to let her know anyway.On the way to the train station, they passed by a takoyaki stand.As they waited for the train back to Musutafu, Izuku took the time to really look at Corscan. Like any city, it bustled with life. The murmur of the crowd blended in with the chorus of footsteps. A small child held her father’s hand tightly as they sat down on a bench. A woman sipped her coffee as a pair of fuzzy antennae twitched atop her head. Somewhere else, Akifusa chittered in the antique store, all eight limbs arranging and rearranging her wares as she kept one finger of one hand pressed firmly on the button that let her talk to Ken. Her mandibles clacked against each other.And in the train station, Izuku waited patiently with Stain as he ate from a small box of freshly made takoyaki.Corscan was a beautiful city with interesting people.He and Stain should visit again sometime.