With the exception of her pale horns, there was very little that made Izuku believe that Ori was related to Tanaka. 

 

The summer yukata she had on in the middle of winter was half-falling off of her body, revealing her pale smooth skin in far more places than Izuku would have thought possible. A traditional white chest binding preserved her modesty as one sleeve of her dress dangled uselessly at her side; the edge of a tattoo could be seen on the top of her shoulder and a bit on her upper arm as well. Her right thigh was exposed, revealing the top part of a cherry blossom tattoo that appeared just as life-like as the dragon on Tanaka’s chest. The sharpness of her lone blue eye seemed to stand out amidst her long snow-white hair that was tied into a wild ponytail held in place by several large pins, somehow concealing her left eye from him. 

 

On her cheek was the Kanji for dumbass, and the still wet brush in her hand was the most likely culprit. The scowl she wore on her face seemed like it was simply meant to be there. 

 

She basically looked like the insanely beautiful girlfriend of a Yakuza member, and she probably wasn’t the sane one in the relationship. 

 

Ori glared at him for just a single second before glaring even harder at Tanaka, the wet paintbrush in her hand ready to be flailed around like a deadly weapon. “What the hell are you shouting for, dumbass? I was this close to coming up with something to paint!”

 

Is that why she had ‘dumbass’ on her cheek?

 

“And who the hell is this?” 

 

Izuku found himself facing the moist end of the brush. “Uhh.”

 

“Oh! Well, I was trying to figure out how to inspire you!” Tanaka scratched the back of his head, and the image of the gruff Yakuza muscle that Izuku had first seen was completely replaced by a bone-headed and doting brother. “And I found Izuku! He’s—”

 

“I don’t care who he is!” Ori pointed the brush at her brother again. “Why the hell didn’t you call? We have cellphones! Just because your skull is twice as thick as normal doesn’t mean your brain is any smaller.”

 

“Actually, it is!” Tanaka answered proudly. “Remember, we got those X-rays?”

 

Ori’s arm fell and her face took on a slightly sour look of defeat. She let out a sigh and looked towards Izuku again. “Alright, kid.”

 

Why was everyone calling him kid?

 

“Why the hell would you follow someone that looks like that,” she gestured towards her brother, and then towards the compound in general, “into a place that couldn’t be more clearly labeled Yakuza? Because,” she looked him up and down, “I don’t think you have what it takes.”

 

The fact that Ori had at least an inch or two on him—without her horns—became very important, in large part thanks to her smug look that was amplified by her single visible eye, especially with how deep of a blue it was. 

 

“I came because I want a tattoo,” Izuku said firmly. If it was some scary Yakuza guy or Tanaka, he might have been a bit more gentle, but there was something about the smug condescending nature of Ori that was driving him crazy. 

 

“Oh?” Ori crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. “And what makes you think I’ll just give you a tattoo?”

 

“Because you’ll want to.” Izuku rolled up his sleeve and presented his arm to her.

 

“Want?” Ori let out a laugh, “What makes you think I’ll want to ink you up? There are plenty of other people I give a shit about that would make a better canvas than you. Why would I waste my quirk on you? Shorty.” 

 

Izuku winced at the term. It wasn’t that 5’8” was short, but that Ori and Tanaka were simply tall. Hell, Izuku was pretty sure he was taller than Sho, and he was the guy that guarded the front gate. He let out a deep breath and then looked at her brush. “My quirk can make the things drawn on me real.”

 

“Bullshit.” Ori spat glaring at him. She looked at her brother for a moment. “Is this why you brought him here?”

 

“Well yeah, he sounded desperate, and I figured that something like that would get you excited!” Tanaka flailed his arm around. “I mean, it sounds cool right! Just imagine like a dragon coming out of him! He’d be like that panda in that movie we like to watch!” 

 

“Did you see it happen?” Ori shook her head and rolled her eye. 

 

“You have a brush,” Izuku pointed towards her hand. “Why don’t you draw on my arm?”

 

She looked at her brush, and then looked at his arm. With two quick stomps that caused her bound chest to bounce more than a bit, she stood in front of him and grabbed onto his arm. “Fine, but I’m going to draw a dick.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Do I look like I’m mature enough to not draw a penis on some cocky brat?”

 

Well, she did have ‘dumbass’ on her cheek. 

 

Her brushstrokes were smooth, even, and fluid. In a single motion, he had a crudely drawn penis on his arm. 

 

“Well?” Ori whacked his arm with her brush again. “When’s it going to work?”

 

Half of him was tempted to take the dick off his arm and tell her to go fuck herself. With a sigh, Izuku grabbed the penis and held it up off his arm. 

 

Silence.

 

“Well?”

 

“So you’re laminated, big deal. I’ve seen youtube videos like that.” Ori remained unconvinced. 

 

“Is that all it does?” Tanaka’s shoulders slumped. “Man, now you’re making me look like a chump in front of my sister. I thought you were cool Izuku. Now I see why you failed the U.A. entrance exam.”

 

He should have done this from the start. He tossed the dick behind him and grabbed one of his temporary tattoos, he still had a dozen or so left from the exam. 

 

Lick. 

 

Splat. 

 

Press.

 

Peel.

 

A flexing All Might showed up on his arm, faded as hell thanks to how poorly he applied the temporary tattoo. 

 

Once again, he was greeted with silence as All Might moved on his arm, flexing and acting like an arrogant asshole, just like he always did, only this silence was in awe. “See?” He asked and then forced All Might off of his skin. The small tattoo version fell off of his arm and looked more than a little stunned at everything. “This is what my quirk really does. This is just a crappy temporary tattoo that I put on with my spit, so he’s a bit weak. But the better the tattoo is the stronger they are. Well?” He asked, holding his arms out wide. 

 

The look on Ori’s face told him that while he might not regret working with her, that didn’t mean the process was going to be pleasant. 

 

“Tanaka?” She said in a very pleased voice. 

 

“Hmm.”

 

“You’re a great older brother, now go hang out with the others.” She grabbed Izuku’s bare arm and pulled him towards her. He caught a glimpse of her left eye when her chest met his, a slight red glow filtering out from beneath her snowy hair. “I feel inspired.”

 

“Heh, alright. Good luck Izuku, you’re going to need it.”

 

Luck never was one of Izuku’s strong suits. 

 

In a whirl of white-haired chaos, Izuku found himself tossed inside that small traditional-style house. He was sent spinning, his coat and then his shirt promptly tossed to the side, and his shoes had somehow come off before he hit the tatami-matted room. The inside of the house looked like it belonged to Ori; art supplies rested on every piece of furniture, and dozens of empty canvases sat waiting to be used, while many more only had black, angry marks that occasionally looked like curse words. 

 

The door clicked shut, and Izuku turned to see Ori looking at him.

 

She looked hungry. 

 

A wide smile dominated her face, distorting the ‘dumbass’ on her cheek, and the dim light of the room made her red eye all the more apparent. She pulled out the pins in her hair, letting it down before she gathered it up into a ponytail that would stay out of the way that revealed her pointed ears. If it wasn’t for the fact that she looked like a yandere character, it might have been erotic. 

 

Actually, it was. 

 

It was very erotic. 

 

“Congratulations, little boy,” Ori all but purred as she walked over to him, a small needle appearing in her hand. “You got what you wanted, you’re going to be my canvas.”

 

“Stop calling me little boy, I’m almost eighteen.”

 

“Whatever,” She waved her hand at him. “I’ll call you a man when I feel like it. Now lay down unless you want to be here all night.” She paused and gave him a smug smile. “I’m sure that’s the first time a girl ever said that to you.” 

 

Despite the fact that she was right, it was still easy to be offended by that. “You’re kind of a bitch, aren’t you?”

 

She shrugged again and walked over to the wall where she flipped the light switch off, bathing the room in only what little natural light came from outside. “You’ll be calling me worse soon enough, but once we’re done you’ll be thanking me.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because when I use my quirk on someone, several things happen.” the glow of her red eye lit up her face and dominated the darkening room as the sun began to set outside. “You see, normally it’s more painful than a regular tattoo, and the more detail I put into the tattoo, the more painful it is, but it’s also brighter, and the boon is greater.”

 

“Boon?” Izuku asked, raising an eyebrow as Ori pressed her hand onto his bare chest. Her push was subtle and barely there, yet it was enough to guide him to the ground.

 

“You saw Tanaka’s tattoos, right? The dragon on his chest protects him, or at least it should. It’s hard to tell, but my tattoos are more than just tattoos.” The last thing he saw before he flipped onto his back was Ori’s eager smile. He had several regrets at the moment, but they all paled to the failure he suffered at U.A. “And on you, they’ll be even more. So you’re going to be getting my best work yet.”

 

“Okay, so, can you give me a—” He stopped when he felt her straddle his back.

 

“You can decide the next one.” She leaned forward, her breath against his ear. “For now, just be my canvas and you will not be disappointed.”

 

It might have been the virgin in him. It might have been his own indecisiveness on what to ask for. It might have been the fact that no matter how bad Ori’s personality was, he still thought that she was cute, or it could have simply been the curiosity about what she would produce that led him to nod his head and say yes. 

 

A beautiful tattoo. 

 

The promise of a second one.

 

And whatever the hell a boon was as well.

 

“You know,” He started, smiling at the blank canvas he could see across the room. “With how our quirks work we might make a—”

 

A scream escaped him as he felt her needle press into his back. 

 

When she had said it would hurt, he did not think that it would be quite so bad. A light prick maybe, like a shot at the doctors, maybe a nasty scrape. But this felt like his skin was being burnt and peeled off all at once, only to be stitched back on with a rusty needle. The pain came and went like waves, giving him just enough time to come back to reality before he succumbed to the pain once again. Only the slight touch of Ori’s hand that was like a cool ice pack on his burning skin kept him grounded as to why he was here.

 

He was going to get a tattoo.

 

His first tattoo.

 

He would bear through this pain and prove to himself that his quirk was amazing. 

 

Still. 

 

It felt like it was taking forever. 

 

“Oh?” He heard Ori and felt her pause for a moment. “Well, hello there. Can you move your head just a bit?”

 

Izuku tried to move his head but found Ori held it tight. 

 

“Not you, your tattoo.”

 

She could talk to his tattoo? It was already moving? He wanted to see it.

 

“Thank you.” She said sweetly and the pain resumed.

 

He no longer screamed with the pain, but that didn’t mean he could speak either, at some point he had been given a leather belt to bite into to help with the pain.

 

He wasn’t sure if it did. 

 

Pain and time blurred into one existence of pure suffering that seemed inescapable. 

 

And then.

 

It was over.

 

“Done.” Ori let out a long yawn and stood up from his back. He heard one of her joints pop at least once. “Now come on, let’s go outside, I want to see him.

 

Izuku could only nod as Ori pulled him up with a firm hand. He barely managed to walk, his shoulder still aching with echoes of pain that might never go away. But as he stepped outside, he saw something on his upper arm move for just a moment. 

 

He had a tattoo. 

 

He glanced up at the sky. It was orange, just like it had been when he first entered the building, only this time it was sunrise. For her part, Ori looked dead tired, her already scattered appearance looked even more so with her white hair a wild and untamed mess and the ‘dumbass’ on her cheek reduced to a mere smear. 

 

Despite how tired he was from the pain and from not sleeping, he never felt better. 

 

Was this her boon? Or was he just so excited to finally be able to do this? 

 

“Come on out!” He nearly felt his arm fall off as a great white fist grabbed onto his shoulder and pulled itself out. Sparks of blue electricity appeared as the creature landed. A massive gorilla stood in front of them, its pale blue skin outlined by a thick black line that looked like a living brush stroke. Even when slouched over, the gorilla was easily over twice Izuku’s height and larger than most of those villain bots he couldn’t do anything against.

 

But this guy looked like he could rip those bots to shred with ease. 

 

As though in agreement, the gorilla pounded on its chest, a sound that boomed like thunder and sent sparks of blue electricity around him. 

 

“Well.” Ori let out a long stretch as she walked over towards his tattoo. She touched the gorilla with a large smile on her face before she looked back towards him, her red and blue eyes shining in the early morning light. “What are you going to name him?”

 

Izuku watched for a moment. Did the gorilla recognize Ori as its creator? Were they both the creators? What was his name?

 

“Kong?”

 

The gorilla shook its head in disgust and made a grunting noise. 

 

Alright, so it could have opinions. 

 

“How about, Raijin?” Ori offered. 

 

Raijin nodded, and Raijin was amazing. 

 

By the time Izuku got home, he had barely enough energy to crawl into his bed and plug his phone in. At some point last night it had died. 

 

There were countless missed phone calls and texts from his mother. 

 

With the last bit of his energy, he managed to text her back. 

 

“Home safe. Sleep now.”

 

He’d deal with her tomorrow.