Tooru had heard his descent, the tackle that had taken the vigilante down, and had seen through pseudo vision the way he tossed the body into a dumpster. It probably should have freaked them out, but it didn’t. Instead it piqued their interest. The lenses of their mask zoom in on where his face would be, taking in the details of the silhouette made of light that pseudo vision presented to Tooru. A thoughtful hum passes their lips, muffled by the mask.
“Not technically, no. I don’t see.” Humor seeps into their voice, metal talons on gloved fingers tapping against the side of their mask, where their cheek would be. “And yet, I did. The light refraction and all. Why? Is there something you intend to do about it? Or do you always just ask questions with obvious answers?”
A chuckle, then the tapping stops. “Who are you, anyway? Some kind of Stain follower? Killing heroes and vigilantes and whatnot? And here I thought Shigaraki had all of them in his pocket. Guess he missed one.”
“Shigaraki? Urgh I want nothing to do with him. I don’t fuck with the League or the Yakuza. I’m part of a different group.” He paused. “I’m not a stain follower either. I just kill to kill. My leader doesn’t like to kill villains so we all just follow that.” He shrugs. “If we were allowed to, I’d be doing it. I guess it also depends on the villain too.” Another shrug.
“I don’t really have an opinion. My leader has a good head on his shoulders. I don’t exactly have a side. I just hover.” A small smile touches his lips. “My name is Chi, and I’m known for asking stupid questions.” He snickers, raising his hands and arms, placing them behind his head. He taps the tip of his right shoe on the ground.
“May I ask who you are? You seem rather unfazed about me killing that guy. First time I’ve seen something like that.”
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