Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Excerpt from “Supporting the Heroics Industry” by Seiko Koichi, published November 6, 2218.

Accessed: April 2, 2232.

“Heroes often forget that they are not lone pillars in a sea of villains. Even Japan’s Number 1 Hero, All Might, once had sidekicks doing the legwork for him. Heroes everywhere are supported by intricate webs of people, created to put them in the exact right spot at the exact right time.

“It is our job, as Support, to make it look like the Hero has done that on their own.

“The life-saving piece of equipment attached to their belt may have been one that they vehemently refused. The mission that puts them in the rankings might be one that they begged to get out of. The Villain that takes them out might be one that their sidekick told them not to engage with.

“Support teams are the invisible strings that guide our Heroics industry.”

Excerpt from the Daily News website, posted April 1, 2232, 05:00.

Accessed: April 2, 2232.

“Recent footage has surfaced of the catastrophic arson of the Greenview apartment complex in Hosu. Preliminary police reports say that there is one perpetrator of the incident, who may have been spotted at the scene of the crime hours before. The footage suggests a tall, skinny humanoid with short, dark hair. This person was wearing a long trench coat or dress. If you have any information on the Villain, please contact the Hosu police department.”

Excerpt from the Griffin Potholder Case, No. 84 (2231).

Accessed: April 2, 2232.

PLAINTIFF: Article thirteen of the Constitution of Japan promises equality before law.

DEFENDANT: I realize this.

PLAINTIFF: When I was assaulted, my rights were infringed upon. I, and others like me, deserve to live safe, happy lives. I will suffer permanent damage to my hands, due to this attack. Your laws prevent me from prosecuting the one who is truly at fault.

DEFENDANT: Japanese law extends to those of humanoid features.

PLAINTIFF: Do I not deserve the opportunity to pursue life, liberty, and happiness? Do the claws on my hands, or the feathers on my face prevent me from feeling pain?

DEFENDANT: It is not the place of the law to determine the feelings of an individual. It is the place of the law to protect the majority.

PLAINTIFF: Your laws protect criminals, and prosecute mutants.

DEFENDANT: Objection!

Midoriya is sweating like a stuck pig. His palms, the back of his neck, and his armpits are slick with it. This is partially because of the Villain with his hand on Midoriya’s wrist, and partially because Midoriya’s prone to nervous sweating.

He vaguely knows where the teacher’s lounge is. He’s never been there, but he’s pretty sure it’s in the Heroics tower, on the fourth floor. All the offices are on the fourth floor, hence the sky bridges that connect them. In fact, Nedzu’s own office is on the fourth floor of the Heroics tower.

The villain mutters to himself as they walk.

“This fucking place… why’s everything so huge? Is it made for genetically engineered super soldiers? Oh, wait…” he chuckles dryly to himself. “Hey, kid. NPC. Midori-kun.” He jerks Midoriya’s arm, making him stumble back into the Villain’s chest. Midoriya tries not to flinch at how close the Villain has come to his actual name.

Through Midoriya’s uniform, and the man’s baggy hoodie, Midoriya can feel the solidity in his body that you can’t see at first glance. Under his arm, muscles bunch rigidly.

Midoriya has none of that. He’s a bird, with hollow bones.

“That’s what I’ll call you,” the Villain says, satisfaction licking at his words. “Midori-kun, who’s your favorite Hero? And if you say All Might, I swear to God…” The Villain’s grip on Midoriya’s wrist tightens painfully, squeezing the space where his joint juts out.

Midoriya draws a blank. For a stunned, panicked second, Midoriya can’t remember the name of any hero besides All Might, and he’s scared that he’s going to have to say it, even though he was just warned not to.

“B-Broadcast,” Midoriya croaks. Then, a blush so hot that the tips of his ears burn with it climbs up his overheated skin.

The Villain raises one pale blue-gray eyebrow. Midoriya’s heart gives a solid thud against his ribcage. “And you seemed like such a stand-up guy, Midori-kun.”

“N-not—not because of his motif!” Midoriya protests, but then cuts himself off. Who cares what a Villain thinks he likes in a Hero? Plenty of guys would call Midnight their favorite Hero shamelessly.

“Oh? Then enlighten me. NPC dialogue can be insightful, sometimes. Do you have a sidequest for me?” The Villain asks, somewhat rhetorically. His video game metaphors only make sense to Midoriya half of the time.

“I—I like Broadcast be-because… well, a lot of things!” Midoriya says, terrified into honesty. “He’s got excellent Quirk control, and a well thought-out gimmick that works for his Quirk and his rescue style. He’s a pretty good teacher, from what I’ve seen.” Something else pops into his head that he’s been thinking about recently. “He’s also a Hero with a Quirk that people commonly think of as Villainous.” The man’s hand clenches around Midoriya’s wrist, stopping his words right as Midoriya registers who he’s said them to. He could slap himself.

“What do you mean by that?” the Villain asks, voice a deathly chill.

For a moment, there’s just the sound of their footsteps on the stairs. Midoriya stares at their matching shoes as they climb, the Villain a half-step behind him.

“My friend, he’s got this Quirk. It’s called Brainwashing. He really wants to be a Hero—has his whole life, just like anyone else. Only, everyone he’s ever met has told him he can’t do it, because Brainwashing is a Villain’s Quirk. Then there’s someone like Broadcast, with a Quirk like Attraction, proving them all wrong. Broadcast’s Quirk is literally emotional manipulation. Imagine growing up with that, and trying to tell people you wanted to be a Hero.” Midoriya’s mouth twists. “But he did it. He may play with sensuality, and paint himself as a sex icon, like Midnight-san, but that’s just to help him with his Quirk control.” Midoriya stands firm for a moment, fully invested in saying his opinion, no matter if it’s to a man who’s literally holding him hostage. “I think that, if something helps you control your Quirk, people should respect that. There’s a lot of hate in the world to people with so-called villainous Quirks, but I don’t think such a thing exists.”

The man’s grip slackens for a heartbeat, and then redoubles to a bruising, constrictive grasp. Midoriya gasps in pain.

“Oh, yes,” the man breathes, tugging Midoriya back so that he stumbles down into his sturdy chest again. Their eyes meet, and Midoriya can see the fervor in the Villain’s. They’re blood red, just like Kacchan’s irises. Midoriya chokes in his next breath, inhaling nothing but the smell of him—that brittle paper scent of an old book. His skin burns where the Villain holds it. He wants to rip himself away, but doesn’t dare to.

“You do have a sidequest for me. Tell me, Midori-chan, what’s your Quirk?”

Midoriya goes bloodless. It makes him woozy, and he’s steadied unintentionally by the hand holding him as they resume their ascent, slower now. The Villain keeps his eyes locked on Midoriya, now, and his skin tingles with it. Anxiety pushes nausea into Midoriya’s throat.

“Are you sure you want to know?” Midoriya whispers through numb lips.

“Why wouldn’t I?” the Villain asks joyfully. He’s like a kid, bouncing on his toes as they climb. “If it was something physical, you’d have used it against me right away. If it was something telepathic, the Heroes would have been here ages ago. I’m curious about you, NPC. The mods put you so perfectly into my path—like you were made for me.”

That doesn’t sound good. Midoriya rushes to distract him. 

“I—I’m Quirkless,” he says. They’ve reached the fourth floor landing.

The Villain laughs.

He pulls back, takes in the look on Midoriya’s face, and laughs even harder. It’s like the cawing of a crow, and the hair sticking to Midoriya’s neck raises. The Villain takes a moment to pat Midoriya’s cheek condescendingly, keeping his thumb pulled away so he doesn’t disintegrate him. Midoriya’s blood turns to ice.

“You really were made for me, Midori-chan. Now, why don’t you tell me how a Quirkless got into Yuuei while I loot the teacher’s lounge for any rare drops.”

Midoriya leads them on, down the glass bridge, and straight into the lounge. Words stick in his chest. These last two days, no one has reacted the way he thought they would when he’s told them he’s Quirkless. All his life, people have physically recoiled when he’s told them.

Never once has someone looked at him with pure glee, the way the Villain had.

The Villain drags Midoriya along by the wrist, unwilling to let him go. At this rate, the bruise on his tan skin will be permanent. He still doesn’t dare to even tug against the Villain’s grip, letting himself be led limply like a lamb.

“I, uh. I threw myself in front of Nedzu-sama’s car,” Midoriya says distantly. The Villain pauses in rifling through files to turn and shoot Midoriya an incredulous look.

“You know, you say such amazing things with the most boring look on your face,” the Villain says. “I’d almost think you were lying, if I couldn’t feel your heartbeat.”

In his chest, like it’s heard his words, Midoriya’s heart trips and misses a beat. The Villain laughs, throwing his head back. Over Midoriya’s pulse point, his fingers squeeze. He goes back to searching, and Midoriya tries to pay attention to what he pauses at.

There’s no way Midoriya is telling him that he’s Nedzu’s personal student, so he stays silent.

The Villain seems to be searching for things having to do with All Might. In the filing cabinet, he only searches through the “A” section before moving on. He scours the papers sitting on top of desks. Finally, in the very back corner of the room, on an undecorated desk, he finds something.

“Ha!” he squawks. “Here it is.” He shunts Midoriya to the side, snapping a quick picture of the entire desk before Midoriya can see what he’d pinpointed. “All right, mission accomplished. I think my distraction timer is probably running low, or I’d stay to talk with you longer, Midori-chan. You’re so very interesting, for an NPC.” For a moment, the Villain looks deeply into Midoriya’s eyes. “You’re not a Player Character, are you?”

Midoriya has no idea how to answer this.

“Nah, didn’t think so,” the Villain sighs. “Maybe I’ll catch you again when I’m destroying All Might.” He pokes around on his phone with one hand, texting someone.

Suddenly feeling desperate to know what the Villain had taken a photo of, Midoriya blurts, “He’s been spreading himself a little thin lately, hasn’t he?”

Slowly, so that Midoriya can feel his veins ice over with every passing second, the Villain looks up. He cracks a smile—and Midoriya means that literally. The vertical scar on the left side of his mouth stretches wide, exposing his gums. The little beauty mark on his cheek disappears into a smile line.

That had definitely been the wrong thing to say.

“Now, how do you know that, Midori-chan?” the Villain purrs in his hoarse voice.

In the air beside them, a rip appears in the fabric of the universe. Midoriya thanks God for the distraction. Within the unnatural darkness, swirling like an up-close galaxy, two yellow, vaporous eyes peer out. Midoriya shrieks. God isn’t being nice to him, today.

“Shh, Midori-chan,” the Villain hushes.

“Shigaraki Tomura, I have heeded your call. Are you bringing your guest along with you?” asks the void with eyes.

The Villain, Shigaraki Tomura, grins again. “Nah. I have a feeling the game devs will put him in my path again. Besides, he knows plenty of interesting things, and I want to see how long he lasts here. Quirkless.” He laughs again, exposing the long, ravaged line of his throat. “Come visit the League of Villains when the Heroes kick you out on your ass, okay?”

He steps through the void, hanging onto Midoriya’s hand until the very last second.

“Oh, fuck, ” Midoriya says to the empty room. His heart beats unevenly in his chest.

Midoriya is excused from classes for the remainder of the day. He sits on a sofa in Principal Nedzu’s office that he hadn’t even bothered to look at the day before, his backpack clenched between his knees tightly. There’s a steaming cup of tea sitting on the coffee table in front of him.

Delayed tremors are shuddering through his hands, so he leaves the teacup where it is for fear of spilling the entire thing on himself.

The room is slightly overcrowded with people. There’s Nedzu, standing on his desk, Power Loader by the bookshelf, Broadcast leaning against the window, and Present Mic on the other end of the sofa from Midoriya. All Might is there, too, in his skinny form, which Midoriya doesn’t know what to do about. Everyone seems full of nervous energy, but unwilling to do anything with it.

At last the door creaks open, admitting one final person. Midoriya’s fingers go numb, and he’s glad he’s not holding the teacup.

“Sorry for the holdup, everyone! Thank you for waiting for me,” says the police officer. It’s the same man who once visited Midoriya, with his tan duster sweeping the floor in a very official manner.

Midoriya’s eyes flick up to Nedzu. Nedzu, who is the foremost expert in jumping to conclusions, possibly because of his Quirk, seems to put the pieces together instantaneously.

“Hello, Detective Tsukauchi-san! I regret to say that it isn’t quite a pleasure to see you under these circumstances, but I welcome you to Yuuei, again. I believe you may be familiar with Midoriya-kun, here. I have taken him on as my personal student this year.”

Midoriya grips the straps of his backpack until his knuckles go white, and his hands stop shaking.

Nedzu is right. Midoriya is his personal student, and he’s got to prove that he’s still worth it, even after Shigaraki.

“Hi, Detective-san,” Midoriya greets with a shallow bow. Tsukauchi blinks at him, and Midoriya can see the recognition click into place in his head.

“Oh, hello Midoriya-kun! I trust you’ve been staying away from foreign Quirk databases, since I haven’t been back to speak with you again.”

Midoriya decides to take a chance on the tea, avoiding making eye contact with Tsukauchi. Across the room, Broadcast chuckles.

“Unfortunately,” Tsukauchi says, tactfully moving on before the silence can stretch longer, “I’m here to take your statement on what happened today, not to make pleasantries. I see your guardian isn’t present—would you like us to notify anyone, before we begin?”

Midoriya shakes his head. “My mum was worried enough about me coming to Yuuei. She would be really… upset to know what happened today.” Midoriya picks at the zipper of his bag.

“And your father?” asks Present Mic.

Midoriya shakes his head again, and Mic lets out a thoughtful little hum.

“Okay, Midoriya-kun. I will be recording this conversation on this device,” Tsukauchi says, wiggling a little black recorder that he places on the coffee table. “If at any point you need a break—for anything, water, bathroom, to catch your breath—just let me know, and we’ll pause the recording. I’m also going to be taking notes. Like a therapist, you won’t be able to know what I am writing, but I promise that my aim is to get all the details of the case, not implicate people.” He taps his pencil against the paper of his pocket-sized notepad. “I am also legally obligated to tell you that my Quirk, Lie Detector, is always active. When I ask a question, I can determine whether your answer is true or false, so if you don’t want to answer a question, please just say ‘skip’ and we will move on.”

Midoriya nods.

“I’m going to need verbal consent that you have heard, and understand how this interview is going to proceed. Do you understand?” Tsukauchi asks.

“Ah, y-yes. I underst—understand,” Midoriya says.

“Great. Let’s begin with something easy. Is your name Midoriya Izuku?”

“Yes.”

Tsukauchi marks something on his notebook. “What did you have for lunch today?”

“Ah, um, sashimi. But I didn’t eat very much,” Midoriya says, thinking back. It already feels like so long ago that he was at lunch, but it was an hour at most.

“Can you explain why not?”

“Well, um, I was nervous about seeing a guy I know from middle school. I was explaining to my friends—Hatsume-san and Shinsou-kun—who he was. So, so I didn’t have much time to eat anything before the alarm went off.”

“And when the alarm went off, what did you do?”

“Well, I was the only one who knew what the alarm meant. Shinsou-kun was asleep for that part of the welcome presentation, and Hatsume-san is Support, so she wasn’t there. I told them we were supposed to get to a secure location, and we stood up. Everyone was going into the Heroics tower, and we tried to follow.” Midoriya blushes, holding his still-sore jaw. “I, um, I got hit by someone in the crowd, by accident, I think, and stopped for a second.” He bites his lip, editing Kacchan’s involvement out of his decision to leave. “I decided that I would go up the General Education tower, since almost no one was going that way. And, um, my class was that way, too.”

“So how long do you think it took you to get up to the second floor of the General Education tower?” Tsukauchi asks.

“Um, prob—probably about two minutes.”

“And, how long would you say it had been since the alarm had begun?”

“I think maybe around four or five minutes? By the time I got up to the second floor, the alarm had stopped making any sound, and the emergency lights had stopped flashing.”

“Alright. What did you do once you got there?” Tsukauchi asks.

“Um, I took a second to catch my breath. The stairs take a lot out of me,” Midoriya says, flushing again. “But, ah, at the other end of the hallway, there was a man.”

“Can you describe the man for me?” Tsukauchi interrupts.

“Um, yeah. He was probably around a hundred and seventy five centimeters tall, maybe a hundred and seventy six. He was wearing all black—black skinny jeans, with holes in the knees, and a black hoodie, with the hood pulled up over his head. His shoes, though, they were red. They looked a lot like mine.”

“And did you see this man’s face?”

“Yes,” Midoriya says shudderingly, thinking of the feverish light that had been in Shigaraki’s eyes when Midoriya had told him that he doesn't think villainous Quirks exist. “He had, um, very cracked skin. Dry. His eyes were red, and the left—no, it was the right. His right eye had a scar through it. His mouth, too, on the left side. And he had a little black beauty mark, right here,” Midoriya says, tapping the spot on his own face where Shigaraki’s mark was. In his head, he can see the mark folding away into a smile line.

By the desk, All Might twitches.

“Were there any other defining features? Hair color?” Tsukauchi presses.

“Um, hair color was gray, I think. It was kind of blueish, but more gray than anything else. And um, defining features…” Midoriya shakes his head. “Aside from his skin condition, and maybe the scratches on his neck.”

“Explain, please.”

“Well, like I said, he looked really dry. His voice, too, like he was dehydrated. His skin was cracked and flaky around his eyes and mouth, like eczema. His neck had all these deep, red scratch marks, and peeling patches. It was hard to see with his hood up, though.”

Tsukauchi writes frantically. “Perfect. Thank you, Midoriya-kun. That’s all very helpful. Now, back to where you left off. You had just seen the man at the end of the hall.”

“Um, yeah. I stepped forward, and I said, ‘Hello?’”

“Any particular reason for engaging?” Tsukauchi asks.

“It was pretty obvious he didn’t belong there. He was looking at the floorplan layout on the wall, I think. I thought… well, at the time, I didn’t know about the press being inside the gates. I thought that he had set off the alarm, and someone would be looking for him. I thought maybe I could stall him, since he obviously hadn’t reached his goal, yet.”

Tsukauchi’s face remains impassive, but the Heroes in the room don’t.

“That was very risky of you, Midoriya-kun,” says Broadcast, eyebrows angled disapprovingly.

“Yeah, lil’ listener. Engaging with a person you thought had broken in isn’t the smartest idea,” Present Mic tells him.

Midoriya burns with shame. He hugs his backpack closer to his chest, pressing his cheek into it.

“Okay, guys. Save the lecture for after the interview, please,” Tsukauchi says. “Continue, Midoriya-kun. After you said hello, what then?”

“I, I asked if he was a student here. He turned around, and said, ‘Do I look like a student here?’ I told him no. I think, um, I think he called me an NPC, then.”

“NPC?” Tsukauchi cocks his head quizzically. “And do you know what that was in reference to?”

“Ah, uh, yes. NPC is a video game term that means non-player character. Basically, the characters that are programmed into a game with set dialogue, and set actions or tasks. He was insulting me, and insulting the press outside by calling us NPCs, and meaning that we’re like sheep,” Midoriya clarifies.

“You understood that right away?” Tsukauchi asks.

“Um, y-yeah. I play video games, sometimes,” Midoriya says.

“After he insulted you, what did you say?”

“Nothing, actually. He didn’t really give me a chance. He said that the school was a maze, or something, and all of a sudden he was in front of me. He was so fast,” Midoriya says, remembering how his heart had leapt into his throat. “He told me to take him to the teacher’s lounge, and he wouldn’t turn me to dust.”

“What did he mean by that?”

“Well, I didn’t know, but he showed me. He grabbed my tie,” Midoriya says, mimicking the gesture. “He pulled me forward a bit, but then my tie fell apart. It turned to ash—or, more likely, dust.”

Tsukauchi raises his eyebrows. Behind him, Nedzu turns to stare out the window, towards the front gates of the school. “And what did you do?”

“I, I told him okay. I didn’t really know where the teacher’s lounge was, but I thought that it was probably where the rest of the offices are, up on the fourth floor. So I took him up the staircase, and he grabbed me around the wrist, as collateral.”

“Excuse me, Detective-san,” Nedzu says, turning back. “I would like to interrupt for a moment.”

“Absolutely. Interrupt away,” Tsukauchi says, sitting back to run a hand through his brown hair.

“Midoriya-kun, I would like to hear your hypotheses on his Quirk, and how it works, please,” Nedzu says. Midoriya blinks in shock.

“Um, are you sure? He didn’t explain it to me,” Midoriya says.

“Quite sure. I would like to know your thoughts.” Nedzu’s eyes glitter.

“Ah, well… He said he would turn me to dust—not ash. His Quirk was obviously five-point touch activation. It took my tie about half a second to begin crumbling, starting from where he’d touched it, and spreading to the rest of the fabric. However, it didn’t affect any of the rest of my uniform, though they were in contact. Before the tie turned to dust, it lost color and became flaky, kind of like his skin. I think the dehydration of his skin is very telling. A tie isn’t an organic item, with cells to suck moisture from, but I believe that’s the true function of his Quirk. I think, on a molecular level, his Quirk aged my tie. It mimics what would happen if I left my tie outside for an extended period of time—the loss of color, the fragility, and eventually turning to dust. I think he, like the Sun does, sucked all the moisture out of the molecules, which made it brittle and then it broke apart.

“It would make sense, then, that he would need so much extra moisture. His skin being so dry and flaky can be explained by not getting enough of it—possibly because he doesn’t really understand the mechanic of what his Quirk is searching for when it dehydrates things. I wonder, though, if it is possible for him to only partially dehydrate something. What happens when he touches water? I don’t think it would work correctly on a liquid, being five-point touch, but that’s a myth, anyway.” Midoriya taps his fingertips together. “It’s just a mental block. But, how much finite control does he have on the level that he uses his Quirk to? Can he only slightly dehydrate something? What is the range of the dehydration? If he were to put his hand on the ground, how far would his Quirk stretch, before giving out? Does it return the moisture it gathers to his body, somehow?”

“Thank you, Midoriya-kun. That will do, for now,” Nedzu says, startling Midoriya out of his muttering.

The people in the room stare at him, mouths agape.

“Holy shit,” skinny All Might says, in English.

“S-sorry,” Midoriya says. “I got carried away.”

Tsukauchi sits, stunned, before he regains his composure. “Sheesh, Midoriya-kun. No wonder you were researching foreign Quirk databases. I think ‘an interest in Quirk biology’ is kind of an understatement. “Let’s… let’s get back on track, why don’t we? You left off when the villain grabbed you by the wrist, you said as ‘collateral.’”

“Right,” Midoriya confirms. “I led him upstairs, and he held me so that I wouldn’t run away, I guess. He kept making these derogatory comments about the size of Yuuei, and saying that the students are genetically engineered super soldiers, or something. He tried to get my attention, and yanked me back a bit so that I fell on him. He said he was going to call me Midori-kun, and asked me who my favorite Hero is. He hinted that if I said All Might, I wouldn’t like what happened.” Midoriya blushes. “I, uh, I said Broadcast-Sensei is my favorite. He made me explain why, when I said it wasn’t because of his gimmick. I said a couple things, but he made me explain what I meant when I said that he’s a Hero with a Quirk that people consider villainous.” Midoriya covers his face with his arms.

“Are you alright, Midoriya-kun? We can take a break, if you need one,” Tsukauchi says.

“No, no, I’m fine. It’s just really embarrassing to talk about this like he’s not standing right there,” Midoriya mumbles, face aflame. Broadcast has his arms crossed over his chest, and a smug little smirk on his lips that keeps tripping up Midoriya’s heartbeat.

The room at large chuckles at Midoriya’s embarrassment, and he tries for a wobbly smile.

“Anyway, I explained that Broadcast-Sensei breaks all kinds of stereotypes just by being himself and a Hero. And at the very end, I said that… well, I said that his gimmick is partially based on the fact that Broadcast-Sensei needs people to find him attractive, to use his Quirk to maximum potential.” Midoriya licks his lips. “I said that, that there's no such thing as a villainous Quirk.”

Nedzu gives a little grin. Tsukauchi blinks. “Was that important?”

“Um, yes,” Midoriya says, thinking about how close Shigaraki had pulled him. They’d breathed the same breath, and Midoriya had stared right into Shigaraki’s intense eyes. “He said that I had a sidequest for him—another video game reference—and asked me what my Quirk was.”

Tsukauchi frowns. “What did you tell him?”

“Well, I asked him if he was sure he wanted to know. I always ask that. He told me that he knew it couldn’t be something physical, because I would have used it against him already. It couldn’t be telepathy, because I would have called the Heroes right away. He said… he said it was like I’d been made for him. That the mods—that’s moderators, like of a game or a chat—had put me there for him.”

In his notepad, Tsukauchi circles something. Across the room, the Heroes grimace.

“So I told him I’m Quirkless.”

“You didn’t lie?” Tsukauchi asks.

“No. I got the sense…” Midoriya closes his eyes, and takes a breath. “I wanted to be honest with him. He seemed to like my honesty, and I didn’t want to upset him. We’d reached the teacher’s lounge, and he told me to tell him how I’d gotten into Yuuei without a Quirk. So I said that I’d… I’d thrown myself in front of Principal Nedzu-sama’s car.”

Tsukauchi’s eyebrows shoot up. All Might spits blood in surprise. Midoriya jumps in shock, and the man waves him off, pulling a handkerchief out of his suit pocket to dab at his mouth. Power Loader, who has been utterly silent, gives a startled cough, while Broadcast and Present Mic both turn to look at Midoriya more fully.

Midoriya flushes.

“That’s true,” Tsukauchi blurts, his eyes wide. “You actually threw yourself in front of Nedzu-sama’s car?”

“Um, yes. But it was just a light car crash!” he says, and immediately feels foolish.

“Young man, there is no such thing as a ‘light car crash,’” All Might says, sounding remarkably like Recovery Girl.

“Let’s move on,” Midoriya says hurriedly.

“Alright,” Tsukauchi laughs incredulously. “What happened after you told him you’d done… that ?”

“Um, well, he told me, ‘You say the most amazing things with the most boring look on your face. I’d think you were lying, if I couldn’t feel your heartbeat.’” This sobers the room up instantly. “After that, I just stayed quiet until he found what he was looking for. On the desk in the back corner of the room, he found something. He pushed me behind him so that I couldn’t see what it was, and took a picture with his phone. Then, he asked me if I was actually a player character.”

“What did you say?” Tsukauchi nudges.

“I didn’t say anything. He kind of sighed, and said, ‘Maybe I’ll catch you again when I’m destroying All Might.’” This part of the conversation is engraved on Midoriya’s psyche, word for word. He grimaces down at his backpack. “I got a little… I guess I panicked. I’d been trying to figure out what he was looking for, and it was pretty easy to tell that he’d been looking for documents about All Might. But what did he find?” Frustration tears through Midoriya again, and he grabs at his fringe with one hand. “So I said, ‘He’s been spreading himself a little thin lately, hasn’t he?’”

The silence is suffocating. Midoriya looks up from under his hair, and Tsukauchi has another inscrutable look on his face.

“He smiled, and asked me how I knew that. Then, some kind of portal opened up next to us.” Nedzu hops forward interestedly at these words. “I screamed, and he shushed me. The portal was a man—or it had a voice, I guess. The portal said, ‘Shigaraki Tomura, I have heeded your call.’ He asked—”

All Might lunges forward, his gangly body nearly knocking into the corner of the coffee table in his haste.

“Wait, wait—” Tsukauchi starts to say.

Skinny All Might swells up, his muscles ballooning and expanding into his normal All Might form. He grasps Midoriya by the arms like Hatsume does, and lifts him off the sofa, backpack and all along for the ride.

“Did you say Shigaraki?” All Might demands, his chiseled face terrifyingly stern.

Behind All Might, Tsukauchi puts his head in his hands. Present Mic has leapt to his feet, and stands rather unsurely by All Might’s right arm.

“A-All Might! Ah, um, yes? The portal called—called him Shigaraki Tomura, I’m sure of it,” Midoriya says, his legs dangling limply. This doesn’t feel at all like when Hatsume picks him up. In fact, he’s not really enjoying being in All Might’s grip—though that might have something to do with the fact that his face looks so scary.

“Toshinori,” groans Tsukauchi.

“Yagi-san, please unhand my student,” Nedzu says pleasantly.

Tsukauchi pauses the recording device. “I’m sorry, everyone. This investigation just went up a threat level—or three. I’m going to have to finish taking Midoriya’s statement with just All Might.”

“No way!” Present Mic says. “I think All Might-san needs a break, and to let Midoriya-kun down. That’s not how we treat students, here.”

Midoriya’s feet lightly touch the floor, and All Might releases him sheepishly.

“I agree with Yamada-san,” Nedzu calls. “At the very least, I will be present for the rest of this interview. As both Midoriya-kun’s sponsor, and someone who is privy to a great many secrets, I believe there is no reason to exclude me from the proceedings.”

All Might takes a step back from Midoriya, who gingerly rubs his biceps where All Might had grabbed him. He deflates back into his skinny form with a bloody cough, which he wipes on his suit absentmindedly.

How big of a deal could the Villain really be? Granted, he wasn’t harmless, but his name—such an innocuous thing—has All Might scrambling. What does the name Shigaraki mean?

Broadcast raises his hands deferentially. “I think I’ll bow out of this one, gentlemen. Midoriya-kun, I hope you feel better, and I’m sorry you got put in this situation. I’ll see you in class tomorrow.”

Midoriya blinks curiously at the Hero as he slinks out of the office.

Power Loader shakes his head. “This is above my pay grade, Nedzu-sama,” he says. “If you need anything from me, give me a call. Don’t be late for homeroom, Midoriya-kun—Hatsume-san will blow a gasket. I think you’re the only thing preventing her from exploding the entire Support studio.”

Okay, seriously, what the hell? They’re really going to leave, all because of a name? Maybe Midoriya doesn’t understand the Heroics industry as well as he thought he did.

Present Mic, on the other hand, holds his ground, crossing his arms over his leather jacket. “I would really feel more comfortable if Midoriya-kun had a guardian present. Especially if the reason you’re kicking us out is because it’s “too dangerous,”” Present Mic says, making sarcastic quotation marks with his fingers. “In case you’ve forgotten, we’re all Pro-Heroes—Midoriya-kun isn’t.”

Tsukauchi and All Might exchange a tense glance. Midoriya’s mind starts to run—they’re a little too familiar with each other. Tsukauchi even knows All Might’s name! They must have worked together on a case in the past, but which one? All Might has defeated thousands of Villains, and saved hundreds of thousands of people. He’s interrupted before he can get much further than that.

“I believe I have a solution,” Nedzu says. Everyone turns to look at him. “Yamada-san, you need to return to your classes.”

“But, Sensei! ” Mic cries. Nedzu holds up a paw.

“Yagi-san also needs to return, and get prepared for his first class of the semester. I believe that if you,” he tells Present Mic, “were to alert Aizawa-san, he would be able to provide a similar presence to Midoriya as yourself.”

Present Mic’s face clears instantly.

“Nedzu-sama, are you certain that I should not be involved?” All Might asks nervously. “I would really feel better—”

“No, no,” Nedzu interrupts. Present Mic takes All Might by the shoulders and starts steering him out of the room aggressively. “You must be there for your students, Yagi-san! Remember your purpose here on this campus. We will fare just fine without you, and you can be debriefed later.”

“Thanks, Sensei! ” Present Mic says, suddenly on-board with the plan. “Don’t worry, Midoriya-kun. Aizawa will be here in no time, and he’ll have your back for sure!”

The door closes behind them, and it is quiet. Midoriya blinks.

“Nedzu-Sensei , who is Aizawa?” Midoriya asks, setting his backpack on the floor.

Tsukauchi lets out a breath, and settles himself back into the armchair he’d been occupying. He starts flipping through his notepad, reviewing his notes.

“Aizawa Shouta—” Nedzu begins to say, but Midoriya suddenly recognizes the name.

“Oh, it’s Eraser Head-san! Wow, I didn’t know he taught here, too—though I guess it’s obvious, with both Present Mic-Sensei and Midnight-san being professors here. Man, Yuuei’s retention rate for students to professors is insane.”

“Plus Ultra!” Nedzu chimes, unbothered for having been interrupted.

“Plus Ultra!” Midoriya replies, pumping his fist. Tsukauchi laughs at them.

They fall into silence, waiting for Aizawa to show up before they resume the interview. Midoriya goes back to wondering about Tsukauchi and All Might’s relationship. Something about this whole name hangup is tickling Midoriya’s mind, but why?

He tucks his chin into his hand.

As soon as Tsukauchi had heard the name, he’d upped the threat-level of the case. Shigaraki must be connected to a past crime, or some kind of syndicate that Midoriya doesn’t know about. All Might’s visceral reaction stumps him. Midoriya knows all of All Might’s documented battles, especially the ones that were large enough to qualify as gang activity—whether that means an organization, yakuza, or even a religious group at one time. The only case he doesn’t know about was the one that All Might himself had told Midoriya about.

The one that had given All Might his scar.

“Oh,” Midoriya breathes. Nedzu, who Midoriya is pretty sure has been watching him the entire time, twitches an ear in his direction. “Shigaraki is the one that gave All Might his injury, isn’t he?”

“Excellent job, Midoriya-kun,” Nedzu says.

“How do you know about that?!” Tsukauchi cries, leaping to his feet. He barely manages to catch his notepad as it tumbles out of his lap.

Midoriya’s arms flail wildly. “A-All Might told me! Well, not about Shigaraki, but about their fight, and how he’d been hurt. I accidentally caught him when his time was up, and he transformed in front of me. I thought he was a fake, but he explained what had happened, and warned me not to become a Hero.”

“When was this?” Nedzu asks. His ears perk in interest.

“Um, a while back. About ten months ago, so June of last year.”

Tsukauchi snaps his fingers. “I knew I recognized you when we first met,” he says, pointing at Midoriya. “You were involved in the Sludge Villain Incident, weren’t you?”

Midoriya picks at a thread on his cuff sheepishly. “Ah, um, yeah. And my friend from middle school—the one that goes here, too—was the victim.”

Tsukauchi nods, relaxing back into the armchair. “No wonder Toshinori told you about All For One. He’d told me that he saved a kid, before the Bakugou boy, and—I really should have put this together earlier—that you were Quirkless.” Seeing the look on Midoriya’s face, he says, “It’s really not as common as people make it seem. A lot of the statistics in Japan are out of date.”

“Trust me, I know,” Midoriya mutters. “But who is All For One? All Might-san never mentioned any names, only that he’d had a battle, and that it wasn’t publicized after the fact.”

Tsukauchi blanches, and looks to Nedzu for help. Nedzu grins with his sharp little teeth, clasping his paws behind his back, staying silent. The detective buries his hands into his hair and groans.

“Can we pretend that I didn’t say that name? I take it back,” Tsukauchi says, his voice muffled in his sleeves.

Midoriya blinks, concerned.

“I believe it was going to come out, one way or another, Tsukauchi-san,” Nedzu says pleasantly.

“What came out?” a low, exhausted voice asks.

“Ah, Aizawa-san! What excellent timing you have,” Nedzu cheers.

Standing in the doorway of the office is none other than the Erasure Hero: Eraser Head, and he is looking at Midoriya like he’s the biggest inconvenience on the face of the Earth.