I do not own BNHA or its characters.
Enjoy Chapter Six of "Collapse"
Cowritten and coedited by aoimikans.
The Waiting Game
Naomasa took the stairs two at a time, foam cup of coffee in hand. He checked his watch. 6:03AM shined up from the clockface.
"Still early." Nodding, Naomasa slowed as he reached the top of the stairwell and pushed the door open.
"Sir!" Sansa greeted him in the hall and jogged up to him.
Naomasa quirked a lopsided smile at the officer's appearance. His fur stuck out at all angles and his right ear was flipped backwards.
Shaking his head, Naomasa pointed in the direction of the locker rooms, "Go home, Sansa."
Sansa blinked blearily, "S-sir? Wait, no, I can-"
"You look exhausted," Naomasa chuckled and reached out, carefully fixing his subordinate's ear, "Did you stay here all night?"
"Y-yes, sir," Sansa's ears pressed back guiltily. He rubbed his gloved hands together, shoulders bent in exhaustion. He gestured behind him, toward the bullpen, "Those kidnappings, sir… There's been another, and I'm trying to map out the a-" Sansa yawned widely, blinking and rubbing at his face, "Sorry. I'm trying to map out the area to narrow the search parameters."
"Already thinking like a detective," Naomasa commended softly, "Thank you, Sansa. But please don't burn yourself out. I need everyone at their best for this case, and you still have your separate duties as an officer."
Sansa bowed his head, "Sorry, sir."
Naomasa clapped his hand on Sansa's arm, "No need to apologize. I appreciate the help. How about this, you can come back after getting at least a solid six, alright?"
A soft trill came from Sansa's throat, and he smiled, "Thank you, sir. I'll do that. Oh, and Alb- Wright's team got here an hour early. They're already hard at work and should be ready for the morning briefing."
Naomasa nodded, patting the officer's back, "Thank you. Get some rest, Sansa."
"Yes sir!" he chirruped, continuing down the hall.
Naomasa watched Sansa go before walking to the conference room. Taking a long swig of coffee, he knocked and entered.
"Good morning," Naomasa greeted.
Wright's team sat around the conference table which was shoved to the front of the room to make space for the large whiteboard in the back. Boxes of evidence and files sat on the far end of the table, a couple open. Their contents were strewn across the wooden surface. Colored tabs stuck to the tops of each smaller pile.
"Morning, Detective," Mary Shin grinned up at him as her peers returned the greeting. She brushed a lock of white hair behind her ear and tapped the stack of papers in front of her, "Court order came through. Rishi General Hospital just had the rest of their supply records sent over, including any supply contacts with the Espa Clinic."
"Good," Naomasa turned to Vera Lang, "Any luck with the clinic?"
Lang's fingertips brushed over her digital braille terminal, and she nodded, "The clinic's owner has a spotty history. I wouldn't be shocked if he was a straw owner, renting out the building's old maintenance tunnels as a hideaway. Either way, shady business. Reminds me too much of Montgomery's opioid case in the UK."
"Mary, I finished this stack," Genji Tsuda said, quietly sliding the papers to her, "Some of these don't make sense. They are labeled as surplus, but don't show up in the storage count. It's fishy."
Naomasa leaned across the table, tilting his head to read the highlighted supplies.
Intravenous fluids, calcium supplements, iron supplements…
"These are some of the supplies found in the room where Yagi was kept," Naomasa felt a wave of energy rush through him, "Great find, Tsuda."
Tsuda glanced up at Naomasa, and a small, bright grin lit his face as he dug into the next stack of paper. The small fern at the center of the table doubled in size.
"Tsukauchi," Bellamy called from across the room, "Could you come see this a moment?"
The empath stood next to the whiteboard. On it were pictures of four people, two men and two women, with one of the women off to the side.
"Since Yagi's second abduction, four people have been reported missing in the nearby Wards. Officer Tamakawa was working to find a possible connection between these recent missing person cases," Bellamy tapped on the picture separated from the rest, "This woman here is Mirai Shimeno. We can't be certain that she's involved, but her disappearance is suspicious to say the least. She was reported missing after she failed to show up to work. Her supervisor noted that on her last shift, she never clocked out."
Naomasa nodded, committing the woman's face to memory, "Fair enough. Where does she work?"
Bellamy pointed to a pinned spot on the map, then stepped back to gesture at the marked edge of the circle surrounding a cluster of other colored pins, "She works in a senior care center just outside of our search radius. The fact that she went missing in a medical facility was reason enough for Tamakawa to include her on our list."
Naomasa's expression darkened, "A senior care facility…"
He glanced at Wright who gave him a knowing nod.
Isamu Sato's words echoed in the back of Naomasa's mind, "I used to work in a cancer ward for terminal patients. It was one of my night shifts…"
Naomasa pinched his lip in thought, his gut urging him as he asked, "Bellamy, what was the time frame of Shimeno's disappearance?"
Bellamy hummed, picking up a file, "Roughly between 10pm to 2am. Apparently she was going to cover for another coworker in the morning, and no one could reach her when she didn't show up. 'Uncharacteristic' according to her supervisor's report.
"There was something else," Bellamy continued as his fingers moved along his rosary, "I went to get a feel for the place. There was a sense of loss - an emptiness. Now, it's not uncommon considering the nature of the facility, but after a little asking around, I discovered that one of her patients passed away in his sleep during that same time frame."
A chill worked its way up Naomasa's spine.
He was there. All for One.
Bellamy turned, gesturing to Wright, "Go ahead with your theory."
Wright set his pen down and stood, frowning as he made eye contact with Naomasa, "While I realize my… error in how I handled Sato's interview, the information gathered remains valid. This is his M.O. Taking quirks from those close to death like a scavenger. A senior care facility is one place with easily accessible quirks." He pointed to the picture of Shimeno, "If she was anything like Sato…"
"Wrong place, wrong time," Naomasa murmured with a nod, brows furrowed in thought, "Was Sansa able to find something connecting the rest?"
Bellamy hummed, turning back to the map, "The rest were taken off the street. Souma Ogawa at midday and on film. Kousuke Shiga vanished in the evening according to his friend who had planned to meet him for their Sunday drinks. So far, he's the only person with a criminal history. He robbed a convenience store four years ago and did his time for it. Tayori Yamadori was last seen by her grandchildren when she dropped them off at their home. Yamadori runs a flower shop but hasn't opened the store in a couple days."
Bellamy gestured to each pin marking their homes, places of work, and frequently visited locations, "It's a bit spread out, but one commonality between them is their pharmacy. Each opted to pick up their prescriptions here-" he tapped on the single red pin. Then he sighed, "Granted, any number of people could be using that pharmacy for any number of reasons. Still… it isn't something that should be overlooked."
"Now, to be clear," Wright abruptly spoke up and moved to Naomasa's side, "You believe these people were captured by the man known as the Good Doctor and All for One?"
"Yagi believes so," Naomasa said, approaching the whiteboard. He considered each missing person's face, "Something he remembers the Doctor said while he was at the Espa Clinic makes him think as much. Unfortunately, I think he's right. He has a good sense for these things."
"Why not bring him in?" Wright asked with feigned nonchalance.
Naomasa pinched the bridge of his nose, "He -"
Wright held up his hand almost apologetically, "I know he's been injured, but he is the most valuable asset to this case. You both believe these people are being abducted to recreate what was done to Yagi. So, why not use what he knows?"
"We already have what he knows," Naomasa insisted, "I was also there at Kamino. I know what All for One's transmission quirk looks like," he added, pointing at the blurred screenshot of Ogawa's abduction.
Sighing, Naomasa went to the coffee machine and refilled his foam cup, "Please keep in mind, Yagi was a pro hero and knows what sort of information we need for these investigations. If he remembers anything more, he knows to contact us."
Just let him rest, Naomasa thought, stirring the still steaming coffee. He deserves to distance himself from this.
Wright rounded the table and gestured to the many stacks of paper, "Then perhaps as an extra set of eyes?"
Lang huffed a frustrated sigh, "Will-"
Naomasa barked a laugh, earning startled looks from each of the team members - though Bellamy's was more bemused.
"Toshi- ah, Yagi and paperwork don't mix well," Naomasa said with a chuckle. He sipped from his coffee before taking his place at the table, "Listen, if I believe we need Yagi's consultation, I will ask for him myself. For now, we are fully capable of working this case with the information he has given us and what we have found."
Wright crossed his arms and frowned, but Bellamy pat his shoulder and squeezed gently.
"That sounds perfectly fair," Bellamy said, humor twinkling in his dark eyes as Wright dropped his hands and argument.
"Thank you." Naomasa turned away from Wright, "Speaking of bringing people in,Vera, any luck with your Rishi Gen supply logs?"
Vera huffed, "I've noticed inconsistencies similar to those Genji found, as well as what look like hidden transactions, but they all lead to dead ends-" She waved her hand in Wright's direction, "Yes, yes, Wright, I know how you feel about dead ends , but like you said I could use another pair of eyes so to speak. I suspect Miss Shiire knows more about the inner workings of this log than I do."
"I thought as much," Naomasa hummed, considering the whiteboard, and nodded, "Alright. I'll bring her in. We have enough on her through Sato to at least make a case for theft and fraud. She may accept a deal and agree to help us for a lesser charge. We need to find where these hidden transactions lead."
Unbidden, the memory of Toshinori stumbling, pupils blown wide, and drugged out of his mind came into sharp focus.
The bits and pieces taken from him still sat in evidence.
Determination fired in Naomasa's gut.
Never again. That damn Doctor will not have free reign.
"I agree," Bellamy flipped through his notes, "With these new kidnappings, the Doctor and All for One will face a drain in their resources. If we manage to unravel this puzzle, and if we can get the cooperation of other nearby medical facilities, any attempt on their part to obtain materials through these hospitals will lead us directly to their hidden location."
Naomasa grinned fiercely, "Exactly."
"Alright," Wright frowned but took his place at the table, steepling his fingers, "So Tsukauchi will see to Miss Shiire. Mary, if you would, accompany him."
"Me?" Mary blinked, "I- well I have spent more time in the logs… Yes. I should be able to tell if she's trying to lead us astray. I wouldn't mind joining you if that's alright, Detective?"
Naomasa's lips twitched with amusement, "I wouldn't mind at all. Any other suggestions, Wright?"
Wright gave him a blank stare, "I'm ready to get to work if you are."
"Great," Naomasa said, clasping his hands together. Just as he reached for a free file, his phone binged merrily. He gave it a quick glance and grinned.
"Here we go," Naomasa pocketed his phone and at the questioning looks he explained, "A meeting was just confirmed with Ryukyu, the Dragoon Hero. She is familiar with the area around Espa Street, often dealing with the rival gangs there. It's possible she will recognize the small time villains guarding those old tunnels and know if they are connected to any larger organizations."
Any lead is progress.
"Good luck," Tsuda said, his sharp focus never wavering from the logs in front of him.
Naomasa smiled and nodded, "Thank you. I'll send an officer in when I'm ready to head back to Rishi, Mary."
"In the meantime, I'll try to identify as many of those strange transactions as possible," she replied.
Taking one last swig from his cup of coffee, Naomasa stood and straightened his jacket, "Thank you everyone. I trust your skills. We are going to find the Doctor and recover the people he's kidnapped."
Naomasa bowed swiftly before exiting.
The clock is ticking.
Toshinori glanced down at his new, updated watch and raised an air horn high in the air.
And… now!
The air horn blared, the sound echoing across the disaster zones of USJ.
From his place at the top of the stairs, Toshinori could see the students leap into action. His tail swayed, and he grinned.
This felt right.
Classes 1-A and 1-B were split into groups of five, students intermingled to give them a variety of unfamiliar quirks to work with. Each group was set out to locate, treat, and retrieve a U.A. teacher acting as survivor and instructor.
Lowering himself onto the top stair with a grunt, Toshinori turned and elbowed Aizawa's leg.
"I still say I would have been fine acting as a survivor out there," Toshinori said, his tail thumping the ground with excitement.
Aizawa glanced down and gave him a flat look before returning his attention to the four fields, "You're already injured."
He suddenly winced, yanking his earpiece out and giving it a red-eyed glare.
"HEEEEEEELP!" The drawn out yell echoed loudly from the rockslide area.
"Present Mic is really going all out," Toshinori joked, hands over his sensitive ears.
"I'M TRAPPED! SOMEBODY HELP!"
Toshinori's attention focused on the screen showing the kids approaching Mic's location. Their hands covered their ears as they cast nervous looks at the loose and shifting rocks. Young Kirishima and Tokoyami pointed to the rocks most likely to shift, and redirected their team, choosing a safer route to Present Mic.
"HEEELP!"
The students barely dodged a sudden rock slide knocked loose by Present Mic's shouting.
Toshinori grinned fiercely, "When the person you are trying to save is using a volatile quirk in panic, it can create a far more dangerous situation - if you don't calm them down first."
He recalled the boy who turned water to vinegar and a certain explosive incident.
"Calm down!" Bakugou roared, hands smoking, "We're coming already!"
Speak of the devil. Toshinori chuckled.
"YOU CALL THAT REASSURING?" Present Mic scolded.
"If he doesn't learn to inspire confidence in those he tries to save, he's going to continue to struggle," Aizawa grumbled, marking something on his clipboard.
Toshinori quirked a smile, warily glancing at Aizawa's notes, "Every student has their weaknesses. He will learn."
"Don't worry! We're coming to save you!" Kirishima called out.
"You'll be safe soon, sir!" Shiozaki promised, clasping her hands together and sending her vines into the ground.
"Hey, hey, hey," Toshinori's smile widened, "They've figured something out."
Tokoyami darted forward, Dark Shadow shielding Present Mic from the shifting stones above.
Monoma touched Kirishima's arm, and they both ran forward. Their arms hardened and they dug Present Mic out from under the rubble. Shiozaki's vines appeared from the ground, steadying the space left open when Kirishima tugged Present Mic out.
Monoma and Kirishima laid Present Mic down.
Kirishima looked over Present Mic for 'injuries,' spotting the fake blood painting Mic's pants, "Where are you hur-!"
The ground suddenly shook.
Shiozaki tensed, sweat beading from her forehead, "Hurry!"
High above, a giant boulder suddenly came loose.
"Where do you think you idiots are treating him!?" Bakugou leapt forward.
"Tokoyami! Shield!" he growled, throwing up his hands.
Dark Shadow burst forth, expanding overhead.
Bakugou's AP Shot burst from his hands with a catastrophic boom! The boulder exploded, debris showering the area. Kirishima and Monoma stepped in front of Present Mic with hardened bodies as Dark Shadow shrank in the harsh light.
When the dust cloud settled, Toshinori grinned as Bakugou appeared in front of Present Mic, hand outstretched, "Come on. I'll carry you somewhere safe."
Present Mic nodded satisfactorily, grabbing the young hero's hand.
Toshinori chuckled softly, "He's learning."
Aizawa hummed, but Toshinori spotted the proud glint in his gaze.
Toshinori jolted as his tail thumped the ground loudly, and he snatched the limb up and pulled it onto his lap. The tufted tip still wagged eagerly.
He coughed, ears heating as the long tuft swat against his chest.
Behave, he pat his tail.
"Looks like the other groups are wrapping up," Aizawa said.
Toshinori's ears perked and he scanned the disaster areas. In the shipwreck cove, he spotted Izuku and Jurota Shishida helping keep Cementoss's head above water as they were pulled to shore by Yaoyorozu and Tetsutetsu. Manga Fukidashi ran forward, words of concern popping up where his face would be.
"Looks like a successful rescue," Toshinori hummed, "I imagined that area would pose an issue for young Tetsutetsu. With his quirk and body type, I wonder how well he can swim without sinking."
Aizawa nodded, "That's why I put Yaoyorozu and Midoriya on his team. With their planning skills, they can make up for any weaknesses if they put their minds to it."
Toshinori smiled and suppressed a sympathetic chuckle as Jurota shook off the water coating the fur on his body once they reached the shore. He ran his fingers through the ridged mane along his tail.
Scooting back, Toshinori pushed himself up with a grunt and, leaning on his crutches, focused on the arriving students.
"Well done," he called, tail swaying happily as the first of Class 1-A passed by.
His students smiled brightly, energized by the chance to use their skills. A few of them sported small scrapes and burns from their practice run.
"Students with injuries report to Recovery Girl," Aizawa said, gesturing over his shoulder at the tent by the exit.
"Go on over," Toshinori nudged Ojiro toward the tent, "That's a nasty burn. You too Jirou. Aoyama, good thinking utilizing your laser to get up on the roof. Keep working on your landing."
Aoyama nodded, smile intact but strained as he clutched his gut.
"I can't believe that's All Might."
Toshinori's ear twitched back, but he continued to usher injured students toward Recovery Girl.
"Cut that out. Of course he's All Might." He heard another student say, "You heard what happened. That's the risk that comes with being a hero. Show some respect."
Toshinori quirked a lopsided smile and sighed. All in all, 1-B was taking it fairly well. Better than Toshinori had expected. He asked Blood King to give a brief announcement to the class about his condition. Even so, Toshinori saw the astonished looks that the students of 1-B sent his way.
Ah well, these things take time.
He turned and pointed young Monoma toward triage, "Have Recovery Girl take a look at your head. Looks like you have a bump."
Monoma clicked his tongue as he covered the bleeding scrape and turned to Kirishima, "Man, what's with your defective quirk?"
"Practice makes perfect," Kirishima grinned challengingly and hardened the skin on his arm, "You gotta work to level up!"
"Boring." Monoma huffed dismissively.
"It's manly!" Kirishima sputtered indignantly.
Shaking his head, Toshinori snorted at the bickering.
So much energy.
Itsuka Kendo waved at All Might as she passed, catching his attention. She bowed her head briefly, "It's good to have you back, All Might-sensei."
Toshinori smiled softly at the familiar voice. 'Some respect' huh? I see why she's called the 'Big Sister' of 1-B.
"It's good to be back," he said, and gave her a knowing look, "Thank you."
There was a soft buzz in his pocket, and he excused himself, allowing Aizawa to take over for the moment. He hobbled a little away and pulled out his phone.
[How was class?] Naomasa's text read.
[Just wrapping up. Not bad for the first day back.] Toshinori replied, [I observed for the most part.]
[You need your rest] was Naomasa's quick reply.
Toshinori's tail swayed as he grinned, [Either way, I'll be glad when I can be more active.]
[Just take it easy until then.]
Toshinori's ears twitched when he heard a bang and students laugh loudly.
[With these students?] he joked, chuckling to himself.
[Right…]
Toshinori went to pocket his phone, then hesitated. He lifted it back up.
[Have there been any leads in the case?] he asked.
There was a long pause, and for a moment Toshinori thought Naomasa had put his phone away. Then:
[We've found a few things connecting the four recent missing person cases. While that isn't a confirmation that the Doctor has them per se, we can't ignore it.]
Toshinori furrowed his brow, [Four? I thought it was two?]
[Another person was reported missing under suspicious circumstances, and a nurse reported missing earlier this week may be connected.]
[But listen, Toshinori.] Naomasa continued, [We'll find them. We are working on a few possible leads now. It's going to be alright.]
[That's my line,] Toshinori replied. His gut twisted painfully, and he fished a small ball of aluminum from his pocket and popped it in his mouth.
[Is there anything I can do to help?] he asked, his grip on his phone tightening.
It's been days for Ogawa… How many quirks -?
Naomasa's text popped up on his screen, [You can focus on getting better.]
A jolt of frustration zipped down Toshinori's spine, and his hackles bristled. Then, he sighed, shoulders slumping. He's right…
Swallowing the last of the aluminum, Toshinori rubbed at his chest. It was nearly time to empty the acid sac. It pressed uncomfortably at the base of his ribs and left a sour taste in his mouth.
"Ah, wait." His ears perked, and he quickly typed, [William Wright. I ran into him at the station. I forgot to mention it before, but he gave me his card.]
[...] The pending dots bounced for a moment, and Toshinori could almost hear Naomasa sigh.
His broken hock throbbed dully in its brace, and he shifted his balance on his crutches as a wave of fatigue washed over him.
His tail curled uneasily.
Phone buzzing again, Toshinori looked down at the screen.
[He asked to bring you in today. I told him just what I told you. Rest first.]
Damnit. Toshinori lowered his phone and scrubbed a hand down his face. Four people. He's taken four. How can I just… ?
His leg ached.
[I know you want to do more,] Naomasa's next message read, [But you have your students, and they need you more. You've already given us great leads to follow.]
[I know. You're right.] Toshinori conceded, despite the old call to action pulling at his chest.
[I'll keep you updated,] Naomasa said, [and if you think of anything, you can tell me. We're still going to catch him, Toshinori. He's not getting away.]
[We'll get him, I know. Thank you, Nao.] Toshinori replied.
He pocketed his phone with a sigh.
Glancing up, Toshinori's lips twitched with a small smile as he watched Aizawa and Blood King round up the students and issue homework based on the day's trial.
Warmth cautiously bloomed in his chest, There are still things I can do.
Isamu pulled the freshly made key from his pocket, turning the sleek metal over in his palm. The key slid solidly into the deadlock, and with a smooth twist, he unlocked and opened the door.
Midday sun shined through the windows of Isamu's new, campus apartment. It was a one bed, one bath apartment with a spacious kitchen and living room - a far cry from his old, cramped apartment. A small pile of boxes sat in the corner of the living room. Everything he owned neatly labeled "Kitchen," "Bedroom," "Bathroom," and "Other."
Isamu checked his watch.
All Might has class for another half-hour. Plenty of time to unpack the essentials.
Opening up the "Bedroom" boxes, he smiled, "At least I won't have to live out of a duffle bag anymore."
Earlier that morning, Principal Nedzu had come to him in the infirmary with a genuine apology for the delay.
"Delay?" Isamu had asked.
"For your housing!" The principal chirped with a cheery smile, "It took us some time to collect your belongings, but you're all set now!"
Isamu's cheeks burned, "H-huh?"
"Third floor, sixth door on the left," Recovery Girl said, patting his hand as she dropped the key in his palm.
"The accommodations should be to your liking," Nedzu said, whiskers twitching.
Isamu shook his head. The principal hadn't been kidding.
Finding his washed bedding, he hoisted up the box and carried it to the western style bedroom. He glanced around the bare room.
A clean slate.
In Isamu's back pocket, his cellphone buzzed. He quickly fished it from his pocket and grinned at the caller ID.
"Hey Mom," he answered, tucking the phone against his shoulder, "How are you?"
"I'm just fine, Isamu," Koharu said, and Isamu could hear her smile, "How are you doing? They aren't making you do anything dangerous, are they?"
"No, no. Nothing dangerous, Mom," Isamu laughed, pulling out his fitted sheet and wrestling it around his mattress, "While I am around some of the hero course students, I'm just making sure All Might doesn't strain his leg for now."
"I see," Koharu sighed in relief, then gasped, "Oh! You aren't working now, are you?"
Isamu grinned, throwing his comforter over the bed and patting it flat, "No, I'm setting up my apartment on campus which… was a pleasant surprise."
"Oh, yes," Kohana hummed, "I think we got a call about that. Is it nice?"
Isamu tossed his pillow on the bed and left his bedroom. Rummaging around, he found a bathroom box and collected his towels and soaps.
"It's like twice the size of my old place and cleaner," he said, then looked up, spotting a sliding door, "It has a balcony."
A giddy flutter filled his chest as he set the bathroom supplies aside and slid open the balcony door. A rush of unseasonably warm air blew past, swirling inside his living room. He laughed aloud at the view.
His balcony faced a U.A. training forest, like a rolling sea of green, orange, and yellow.
"There's so much to see here, Mom," Isamu huffed a disbelieving laugh, "You know my last place? My window faced an alley, but this… This is incredible!"
"Oh Isamu," his mother sighed, delighted, "I'm so happy for you. A new, safe job and studying under Recovery Girl. Are you enjoying your work?"
Isamu paused.
That blonde student's glare flashed at the back of his mind.
"Y-yeah!" Isamu quickly replied despite the unease in his gut, pushing the memory aside, "I mean… I'm not working with as many patients as I'm used to, but I'm still helping. Learning from Recovery Girl is a dream come true. Did you know she has to consider exactly what she is healing and how the mending process works? It's not just accelerating the healing process of the patient. She has toknow exactly what she wants to have healed and to what degree."
"I'm sure you can learn a lot from her," Koharu said. In the background there was a high pitched whistle, "Oh dear, water's done. Well, I just wanted to check in and give you some exciting news."
Isamu straightened, "Oh?"
"Well, when your father and I dropped you off at the station, we … happened to run into our old friend who works in child services. And we decided to open our house and foster again."
A bright grin split Isamu's face, "That's amazing!"
"Oh good!" Koharu huffed a sigh of relief, "I was worried over nothing."
"Mrs. Sato! Can I help?!" came a distant shout.
"Yes, Hatoko dear. Would you like to take that basket down the hall? I need to pick some squash," Koharu answered, "Just be care- be careful with your wings. You don't want to bump them on the table."
"Sounds like you have your hands full," Isamu joked.
"He's a delight and a sweet boy. A lot like you, actually," Koharu laughed, "Goodness, it's nice to have a little chaos in the house again. He's so vibrant. Once he was washed up, we found pink feathers in his wings. He said his mother's were the same color… That's all he'll say about her, but that's alright. He just needs time and a little love and care."
"You and Dad have always had more than enough to give," Isamu said with a grin.
"Hmm, he's still a bit skittish around your father, but I'm sure he'll warm up to him once he knows he's safe. Poor child…" Koharu tutted softly.
There was a distant fluttering of wings and an excited yelp.
"Oh dear, he's found the greenhouse," Isamu's mother giggled, "Oh! Hatoko, dear - hold on, Isamu - Hatoko stay away from the kiwi. You're allergic."
"Aw! But it's yummy!" Came the distant shout, "And my mouth didn't itch that long…"
Isamu snorted and suppressed a laugh, "Good luck. Can't wait to meet my new foster brother."
"Thanks, Isamu. I'm sorry, I'll call you again later. Have fun at your new place!" Koharu laughed again, and placed her hand over the receiver, "Hatoko, that's not how allergies work…"
"Talk with you and dad later. Love you, mom."
Koharu paused and took a steadying breath, "I love you too, Isamu. Take care of yourself, okay?"
Isamu smiled, looking out over the balcony, "I will. I promise."
His mother sighed on the other end, "Thank you. Bye, honey."
He nodded, "Bye, mom."
Hanging up, Isamu stretched his arms and took several deep breaths. He frowned and twisted at the waist, rubbing his side when it pulled.
I really am lucky. This… His fingers traced the outline of his scar - a pale asterix dimpling the skin under his shirt - and he reached around his back, feeling at the smaller exit wound. He laughed and ran a hand through his hair. I'm lucky to be alive. And here.
Isamu shook off the inkling of uncertainty and collected his bathroom supplies. There was still more unpacking to do.
Toshinori walked across campus, his stride long but still uneven - crutches clicking on the sidewalk. His breath puffed in barely visible clouds, the air crisp but not uncomfortable.
Tail flicking in agitation, he frowned at his fractured hock. The urge to jog, to run, to leap itched at the back of his mind.
Huffing, he kept up his hobbling pace.
At least it isn't throbbing anymore.
A cold wind rushed through the nearby wooded area, leaves rustling and fluttering to the ground. Toshinori shivered, and his hackles bristled as the wind blew through his light jacket, nipping at the bare skin of his tail.
"Goodness, it's brisk!" He sped up and ducked into the live-in staff building. Rubbing at his arm, he pulled out his phone, double checking his texts.
[All Might, would you meet me at my new apartment? Staff apartments, room 306. There's something I'd like to give you.]
[Ah, and please bring your shed spike!]
Toshi brushed his hand over his breast pocket - the small spike still sat at the bottom.
Curiosity put a hop in his step that had nothing to do with his crutches as he ducked into the elevator and walked down the third floor hall.
"Three .. 'o six," Toshinori murmured, stopped at the door. He raised his fist to knock, and paused. A lopsided smile twitched on his face as he knocked.
Isamu swung open the door, looked up and grinned, "You got my text!"
"I did," Toshinori replied, stepping into Isamu's apartment when he held the door open, "Sorry I took so long getting here."
Isamu waved off the apology, "No, please. You're still on crutches." He moved further into his apartment, "I just unpacked my cups. Do you want something to drink?"
"Just water, if that's alright," Toshinori said.
Glancing around, he grinned at the simple setup of the apartment. A couch, loveseat, and coffee table sat in the living room. Dappled sunlight shined through the balcony doors and dotted the walls and floors. A few collapsed cardboard boxes leaned against the wall, and a pair of boxes still sat half full of miscellaneous objects.
Toshinori smiled softly, tail wagging.
"Looks like you're getting settled in nicely," he said.
Isamu emerged from the kitchen with two cups of water, "There's still some work to, but yeah. It's exciting." He set the glasses down and gestured to the couch, "Please, sit down. I just need to grab some supplies. You brought your spike?"
"Yes, I did," Toshinori fished it from his pocket as he sat and held it up. The cream color had faded a little but the rippling base was still the same light brown.
Isamu nodded eagerly, "Fantastic."
Toshinori grinned as Isamu darted off, footsteps thudding dully against the hardwood floor.
"When I heard that spike fell out - Well, I thought it was time to show you this," Isamu called from down the short hall. He reemerged with an old, wooden chest. It was ornately carved on all sides, little relief carved gardens stood out from the dark polished wood. It rattled faintly as Isamu set it on the coffee table and sat beside Toshinori.
"Back before the appearance of quirks, my family passed down a tradition of carving. Wood mostly, but when our quirk emerged in the family line -" Isamu unlatched and opened the lid - "We added bone as a carving material."
Toshinori's ears perked as he stared at the contents of the small chest. On one side lay a carefully wrapped tool roll. Isamu lifted it from the chest and unrolled it. Carving tools with worn wooden handles peeked from their individual pockets. Then he reached back in and gently lifted a larger roll. It rattled softly as Isamu unrolled a portion of it.
Shed spikes were tucked into velvety sleeves, each ornately carved, some with dark resin filling the grooves. Isamu slipped one from its sleeve and held it out to Toshinori.
"It became tradition to carve our shed spikes," Isamu explained, laying the carved spike on Toshinori's palm.
The spike was nearly the length of Toshinori's palm and as thick as his thumb. The relief carved image wrapped around the length of the spike . Toshinori carefully rolled it, following the image down to the base.
His tail twitched as his brows rose, "Is this me?"
Isamu grinned bashfully and rubbed the back of his neck, "Y-yeah. I would have given it to you sooner but it was probably my most complex carving to date."
Toshinori stared at the spike, rolling it across his palm. The image was of him running, starting with his clawed hand on the base, continuing with his body winding up and around the middle of the spike. His tail twisted toward the top, the tuft of his tail curling and fluffing at the tip. His names - both his given name and hero title - were engraved in the sides along with what looked like billowing clouds. It shone faintly in the dappled light, polished in a clear coat.
"It's incredible," Toshinori breathed, running the back of his capped claw down the side.
Toshinori suddenly jolted, and his gaze snapped to Isamu, "Wait. You said 'give'?"
Isamu grinned and bowed his head, fingers still tracing around the divots in the back of his neck, "That's part of the tradition. We keep most of our own shed, but some are given as gifts to people close to us, usually family. And well, after what - after all that's happened … You have my quirk and… some of my DNA. That kind of counts as family, right?"
"I…" Toshinori huffed a disbelieving laugh, reaching back and tracing the spikes on his neck with his claws.
Isamu smiled, gesturing to his neck, "You've even got my nervous tick."
Toshinori's hand froze on the second spike, and his cheeks reddened. Grinning, he barked a laugh, "I suppose I do!"
Returning his hand to his lap, his tail thumped against the couch, and he turned the carved spike in his palm, "Thank you, Isamu."
Reaching out, Isamu nodded toward Toshinori's shed spike, "Could I see yours?"
Toshinori passed over the smaller spike with a nod, and watched curiously as Isamu pulled a few measuring tools from his tool roll.
"My family's always made a big deal about our first sheds," Isamu explained. He pulled out a few smaller tools and a small table clamp, "The very first spike is always made into a pendant. Yours is -" he laughed softly - "a bit bigger than the usual first baby spike but that actually makes working with it easier. If you would like me to get it started for you, that is."
"Please," Toshinori urged with a grin, ears perked in fascination, "It was originally your quirk so -"
"It's your quirk," Isamu interrupted. Looking down, he nodded to himself and clutched Toshinori's spike, "It is my family's quirk, and now it's your quirk… I hope our tradition can be yours too."
"Of course," Toshinori said softly, brows raised. His tail wound around Isamu's waist and squeezed gently. Running his claws over Isamu's carved spike, he released an awed sigh and said, "I'm honored you would share this with me, Isamu. Please, continue."
Isamu placed his hand on Toshinori's tail and let out a shaky sigh, "Thank you."
Toshinori watched as Isamu set up the small clamp and lined up the small spike between the vise jaws. Secure, he drew a small circle on the base and pulled up a small hand drill.
Checking the narrow bit, Isamu glanced up at Toshinori, "I'll get the pendant hole drilled, then you can decide how you want to carve it. I'll teach you."
Souma shifted uncomfortably under the low glow of the morgue's flickering lights. He checked his watch and cursed quietly, dropping his naked wrist.
The Doctor had taken his watch away, a punishment for not cooperating despite his kindness in allowing Souma to keep his street clothes. That had been six ignored meals and several sleep cycles ago.
Whatever that means, he thought bitterly, steam puffing out of his mouth as he sighed.
His life revolved around the clock. Wake up at 5AM. Eat, shower, dress, and be out the door by 6:30AM. Arrive at work between 7AM and 7:05AM depending on the train and the pedestrian traffic. Check delivery lists after clocking in, and organize the most efficient routes for the day. Pick-ups began at 9AM, so there was time to pick up the company truck, top off the gas, and drive to the suppliers. The small truck was easy to fill with one supplier's goods in under thirty minutes. Then it was on to the next and the next. By noon the truck would be full, and Souma would return to his building where the supplies would be unloaded and repackaged for individual hero offices by the sorting staff. While they worked, Souma went on his hour lunch break and ran his errands. At 1:30PM, he was back to work and delivered the repackaged supplies to the hero offices that ordered them. Then it was back to his office to log in the successful deliveries, check emails, file any necessary reports, and clock out at 4pm.
This place with no windows, no watch, no clock, and sporadic visits from the Doctor was a nightmare.
Movement caught Souma's eye, and he looked up.
Mirai waved from her cell, then carefully signed, "You need to eat. Keep up your strength."
Souma grimaced and glanced at the tray of food to his left, ignoring the empty ache in his stomach. He shuddered and signed slowly - his hands trembling as his stomach clenched, "Why? We're trapped." He shook his wrist and gave the chains a weak tug to emphasize his point.
Mirai frowned stubbornly, leaning forward and pressing her hand on the glass between them, "Because we need to escape. Please… " Her eyes squeezed shut, and she inhaled sharply, hissing through her teeth. She pressed her free hand to the mahogany brown horns jutting out from her forehead. They shifted, visibly growing longer, and curved over her hairline. They were almost a half-circle now.
Mirai shivered and pointed to her lips, "Sorry. I'm tired too… But please, don't give up, Souma. If you give up, that bastard wins."
Souma rubbed at his stomach, giving the food a sour glance, "And if it's poisoned?"
"I don't think he wants to poison us," Mirai shook her head slowly, a hand steadying her horns, "Eat."
"Fine," he signed sharply.
For you. And a chance to get at that doctor.
Souma's hands shook as he ripped open the packaging for one of the sandwiches he was given, and gave Mirai a look before taking a bite.
"See? Eating." Souma huffed even as relief washed through him and raised his brows in question, "Happy?"
"Yes," She smiled and nodded, signing a clear, "Thank you."
Making quick work of the sandwich, Souma tossed the wrapping on the tray and pushed the tray into the corner of his cell. He glanced at Mirai, catching her shivering again.
"Cold?" he signed.
Mirai rubbed her arms and nodded.
" Do you want some steam? " Souma asked, gesturing to the row of vertical slits in the cell's glass near the floor.
Nodding again with some difficulty, Mirai snagged her thin blanket from the metal table serving as a cot and wrapped it around her shoulders. She moved close to the wall and held out her arms, elbows pressing against the glass and making an improvised tent.
Souma lowered himself onto his stomach and took a deep breath. Holding it, his lungs heated the steam building in his lungs. When his lungs burned, he pressed close to the vents and blew the steam through.
Mirai sighed in relief as she relaxed into the warmth trapped by her blanket.
Souma took another deep breath and blew more billowing steam through the vent -
Mirai's hand slammed against the vents and patted frantically. Souma jerked back and looked up. Mirai pointed over his shoulder. He twisted to look, expecting the Noumu creature.
Instead, black ooze erupted midair in the next cell.
An older woman stumbled from the sludge, coughing as she collapsed to the floor.
Another!? Souma scrambled to the opposite wall, waving and knocking against the glass.
The woman coughed and gagged, shivering as she pushed herself to sit up. She looked around, grey eyes wide and half-moon glasses slipping down her narrow nose.
Souma waved again, and the woman turned to him.
She was petite, with a round, handsome face. Faint laughter lines crinkled around her eyes despite the shock and confusion shining in them. Her greying hair was pulled back in a loose braid that frayed in places where the locks were knocked loose. Thin hands clutched her thick, cable knit cardigan as she stared at Souma.
"Who…? What just happened?" she asked, leaning to look over Souma's shoulder to Mirai's cell. "Where am I?"
"I'm Deaf. Do you sign?" Souma asked quickly.
The woman stared at his hands, "Very little. Know… children's books."
Souma moved back, turning to Mirari, "Can you…?"
Mirai nodded, then waved at the woman.
"Can you hear me? What's your name?" she asked.
Souma looked back to the woman as she glanced between them.
"Y-yes… My name is Nozomi Shishiki," she spoke clearly, lips easier to read than most. Nozomi pushed up her glasses, "Where … is this?"
Souma didn't need to look back to know that Mirai began to explain. Nozomi's reaction was more than enough. His heart ached as Nozomi's eyes grew wide with horror, hands covering her mouth as she shook her head. Shivering, she pulled her cardigan tighter around her bony shoulders and folded in on herself.
Then Souma spotted her watch.
He scrambled forward, tapping urgently on the glass, then spun, signing frantically at Mirai, "Her watch! Tell her to hide it!"
Mirai jolted and nodded, glancing at the door.
"Nozomi, listen," Mirari pressed her hands to the glass, "You need to hide your watch. He takes them away."
Souma looked back at Nozomi, heart hammering in his chest.
Nozomi frowned, but she unbuckled her watch. Clutching it close to her chest, she scanned her small cell, twisting uncertainly. She paused, gaze lowering to the vents, and then she looked up and met Souma's gaze.
She bit her lip, then held out the watch, "You take it."
Souma nodded, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw it was an analog watch with the time and day.
Nozomi moved forward and carefully threaded the watch through the gaps in the vents. It was thin and small, the tan leather strap barely as wide as Souma's pinkie finger. Souma pulled the watch through, reverently cradling it in his palm.
Thursday. 10:37am.
It's been almost four days since I was taken. Okay. Okay.
"Thank you," Souma signed with one hand.
Scooting back and crossing his legs, he looked around the cell, leaning to feel under the metal table serving as his bed.
No ledges or crevices… He did a final cursory glance around his cell and pinched the bridge of his nose.
Not the most comfortable hiding place, but…
He blushed, turning away from the older woman, and slipped the watch down his shirt and shoved it under his binder.
Mirai caught his eye and signed discreetly, "Maybe we can take turns hiding it. Just in case you… need a break."
Souma smiled wryly, awkward resignation fluttering in his gut at the thought of changing out of his binder in front of another stranger. Despite his anxiety, he pulled at his shirt and sighed, "... Fair enough."
We're all stuck here together anyway.
Rubbing his arms, he held his breath until his core temperature was pleasantly hot. He exhaled steam through his nose and watched the clouds expand and rise in the chilly prison. The small watch ticked against Souma's heart, a calming constant that cleared his head.
He turned his attention to the door across the room - the only way out.
I'll figure out that Doctor's schedule. So far, it's just been him.
One man. One routine.
If… Souma glanced at Mirai and Nozomi, If one of us could escape…
His stomach growled, and his cheeks reddened. Scooting over, he leaned back against the back wall and grabbed the second wrapped sandwich left on the tray.
He waved to Mirai, "Tell her… about the noumu creature. There might be a way to get past it. I'm thinking."
Mirai's eyes widened and she nodded, turning her attention to Nozomi.
No one deserves this. He munched on his sandwich, thinking of their escorted - seemingly random - bathroom breaks and formulating plans, I'll get back at him.
The Doctor brushed black transmission ooze from his coat and glanced around. He was in the morgue hall, just outside his subjects' room. By the sound of scrambling on the other side of the door, Ogawa and Shimeno had discovered their new neighbor.
"Doctor."
The Doctor turned.
All for One sat back, hands folded loosely in his lap.
"I take it your errand was successful," he said.
"It was," the Doctor confirmed casually. He took his place behind All for One and began to roll him back to his temporary living space.
"We're halfway through collecting these subjects. I won't be imposing upon you much longer, Sensei," he said, voice bouncing faintly down the blue-grey tiled halls.
"Imposing?" All for One hummed and chuckled darkly, "No. You would know if I felt you were imposing."
The Doctor shivered, grinning at the rush of adrenaline. The ancient man would never admit it - perhaps kill anyone who'd insinuate it - but the Doctor knew transmitting multiple people drained his energy.
"I'm certain I would," he said, rolling All for One into his room.
He made careful work of hooking All for One back to his life support systems. Once finished, he returned to the door, "I have my subjects to tend to. Excuse me."
All for One inclined his head and turned to the specialized monitors with practiced ease, dismissing him without a word.
Once out of the room, the Doctor chuckled, reaching into his pocket as he stepped down the quiet hall.
He's in a better mood. The change of scenery probably helped.
The benefit of Jedha Central Hospital was its age. It was originally a mission hospital opened in 1902 and grew into a large teaching hospital. After the emergence of quirks and the increased need for medical study and attention, it was renamed and doubled in size to accommodate the variety of quirks.
The Doctor shook his head in awe. Due to a certain donor years and years ago, several of the older buildings were left mostly unchanged.
Including the old teaching mortuary.
The Doctor leisurely flipped through his keys, selecting one and unlocking the third door on the right.
"Hello again," he said as he swung open the heavy door, "Have you warmed up to your new accommodations?"
The two residents of the room looked up from their places on the floor.
"Screw you, asshole," Shiga spat, standing in his cell. Dual chains hung from his wrists and attached to the back wall.
The Doctor suppressed a smile and turned his attention to the clipboard dangling from the front of the man's cell.
Kousuke Shiga. 48.
Medical History: Appendix removed at 16. Broken right arm twice.
Allergies: Soy and peanut intolerance.
Quirk: "Thorny Body" - Produces thorn-like protrusions made of keratin from his skin where hair is present.
Glancing up, the Doctor took note of the small, dark thorns dotting the man's arms and fists.
Could use some enhancement, he thought, mildly disappointed at the thorns' size, Nothing I can't fix.
He replaced Shiga's chart and lifted the one hanging from the neighboring cell.
Tayori Yamadori. 64.
Medical History: Birthed three children. Fractured hip in a rock climbing incident. Hysterectomy.
Allergies: N/A
Quirk: "Language of the Birds" - Ability to understand and command birds. The more intelligent the bird, the better the communication.
Inside her cell, Yamadori sat in a seiza with her eyes shut, and her dark calloused hands lay neatly folded in her lap. Her breathing was slow and even despite the shackles circling her wrists and the racket from her neighbor.
"Hey! Look at me, yah prick!" Shiga roared, straining against his chains, "Let me out so I can kick yer ass!"
The Doctor considered the man. Short in stature but broad with muscular arms and back. Physical traits that were handy for a deep sea fishing, crabbing, and construction - a few of the many odd jobs listed in his history.
He glanced back, gesturing toward himself, "Noumu."
His masked noumu, N-057, jerked at the sound of his voice, and it stood. It lumbered over from the corner of the room, long arms swaying.
The Doctor held out his hand to halt it, and he walked over the the small cooler off to the side.
"I think you're ready, Kousuke Shiga." He reached inside and plucked a blood-filled vial from the rack.
"My name is Kou, yah fucking walrus," Shiga snapped.
The Doctor prepared a syringe, tapping it as he turned and opened Shiga's cell.
"Noumu, restrain him."
N-057 darted into the cell, slamming into Shiga and pinning his arms roughly to his sides.
"Shit! Let go!" Shiga shouted, baring his teeth. Half-inch thorns spread down his arms and beneath N-057's hands.
Not that the thorns would pierce the noumu's Tough Skin Quirk.
Shiga bucked under N-057's grip, "Get OFF!"
"Kou…"
The Doctor looked over.
Yamadori stood, her knotted hands curled in fists at her side, "Please, don't hurt him."
"That all depends on him," the Doctor stated flatly, "Noumu."
N-057 loosed a gurgling screech and gripped tighter until Shiga cried out in pain and finally stilled.
"That's more like it," the Doctor smiled, brandishing the filled syringe.
"Don't yah touch m- Ah!" Shiga grit his teeth as the noumu squeezed his arms in warning.
The needle slipped into Shiga's skin with ease, and a jolt of anticipation rushed through the Doctor's veins as he pushed the plunger.
How will you adapt? How will you change? Will your mind survive like his?
Grinning, the Doctor pulled the emptied syringe from Shiga's deltoid. He stepped back out of the cell, "Noumu, come."
N-057 shoved Shiga back and stepped out of the cell.
The Doctor closed the cell door, the automatic lock clamping shut.
"What did you just do to me?" Shiga growled, but the Doctor could hear the trembling of his breath.
"You'll find out soon enough," the Doctor replied with a smug grin.
How long? How long?
He was eager to find out.
Waiting is always the hardest part.
Shiga rubbed at the injection site on his arm, and Yamadori pat the wall between them as if the action could comfort him.
"Fuck you, yah shit doctor," Shiga spat, brown eyes hard with rage, "It don't matter when, the moment I get the chance I'm knockin' out yer teeth."
Antagonistic. Stubborn. The Doctor recorded the Quirk injected and the time on Shiga's chart, Like him then. That's promising. He may flourish.
The Doctor then shrugged with a grin and turned away, "Noted. Have fun nursing your own wounds, Kousuke."
"It's Kou!" Shiga roared.
The Doctor shut the door without a backward glance.
Sighing satisfactorily, he straightened his coat and continued down the hall.
"One last task," the Doctor hummed, flipping to his next key.
Souma Ogawa, Mirai Shimeno, and Nozomi Shishiki looked up and tensed. Each displayed slightly varied reactions. Ogawa stood and glared. While he could not stand in front of the two women, he moved to the front of his cell - as if that would be enough to shield the others. He, like Shiga, was short in stature, but broad. His legs and arms were muscled and toned from lifting daily orders of hero support items. An asset in his favor during the Doctor's selection process.
He would likely not see it that way, the Doctor thought with quiet satisfaction. He'd chosen well. Ogawa was a prime candidate.
Souma Ogawa. 24.
Medical History: Born deaf in both ears like his parents. Regular use of prescribed hormones to aid in transition. Asthma which all but disappeared after the development of his quirk. Broken wrist at 17.
Allergies: Mild cat allergy.
Quirk: "Blow Off Steam" - Ability to exhale hot steam. Limited to lung capacity. The stronger the emotions and/or the longer the breath is held, the hotter the steam. Can cause 2nd degree burns.
The Doctor turned his attention to the far right cage and suppressed a grin.
Shimeno's reaction was far more promising. While she did not rise to her feet, Shimeno kept a sharp eye on the Doctor as he moved to the table to pull Shishiki's file. More than that, she kept her horns facing him.
A natural show of defense from someone with that kind of quirk.
Behavioral adaptation to the Ram Horn quirk. Interesting. It's settling in surprisingly well. The Doctor clasped his hands together, Perhaps there is benefit in not drugging them.
He needed to update her file.
Mirai Shimeno. 32.
Medical History: Use of generic anti-vertigo medications. All vaccinations up to date.
Allergies: Sulfa allergy.
Quirk: "Fast Forward" - Ability to see into own future from the 3rd person in fast forward. Limit 6 hours ahead. Causes vertigo if used too often, used to look too far, used to search slowly for details.
Quirk(s) Added: "Ram Horns" - Curved, bony protrusions grown from the forehead - resembling ibex horns. They will continue to grow in length, but can be trimmed to make them manageable.
Once the Doctor collected Shishiki's files, he attached them to a clipboard and hung it from the door of her cell.
Shishiki struggled to stand, still disoriented from the Transmission quirk and her current situation.
Nozomi Shishiki. 57.
Medical History: Multiple x-rays as a child. Pronounced infertile after a miscarriage.
Allergies: N/A
The Doctor hung the clipboard on the outside of Shishiki's cell, his fingers brushing over the last filled box.
Quirk: N/A
He turned away in order to hide his grin and returned to the fridge.
Quirkless. Just like you, All Might.
The Doctor, eager to change that, rummaged through the selection of vials. He paused.
But it isn't your turn, Shishiki.
He settled on one and plucked it from the rack, rolling it between his fingertips and smiling at the label. He reached in and pulled out Ogawa's hormones, setting the smaller vial alongside the first and sterile wipes on a tray. He returned to the cells.
"Stand back from the door, Ogawa," the Doctor ordered, hand hovering by the cell door latch.
Ogawa glared suspiciously back, signing sharply "Not going to sic your monster on me?"
"I'm not unreasonable," the Doctor said with a smile, "I thought perhaps leaving Noumu out of this conversation would show that."
"What do you want?" Ogawa asked, brows furrowed.
The Doctor gestured with the tray, "To give you your medication, of course."
Ogawa eyed the vials, hands twitching and curling into fists. He looked up and glared, lips pressed in a firm line.
"And a little something else," the Doctor continued, "You get both. Or neither. Your choice."
"That's not a choice," Ogawa signed, teeth bared, "You know that's not a choice."
The Doctor shrugged, waiting patiently.
"No."
Shimeno shook her head, realization dawning across her face. She waved and knocked frantically, "Souma, no! Leave him alone!"
Ogawa bit his lip, his hand running through his short auburn hair. He glanced at Shimeno, shivering in her cell.
The Doctor pounced, "You have something else you want? I can be… flexible."
"How do I know you won't go back on a deal?" Ogawa asked.
"I could, but I won't. Trust is important between doctor and patient," the Doctor replied easily, gesturing to either side of Ogawa, "If you refuse… There are others who can take your place."
Ogawa's eyes widened, and he grit his teeth, fists shaking. He rubbed at his arms, looking away - anywhere but the tray in the Doctor's hands.
The Doctor suppressed a smile.
Sighing, Ogawa released a burst of steam that briefly clouded his cell. When the steam cleared, his shoulders slumped, and he took a half-step back.
"Excellent," the Doctor reached for the handle, but paused when Ogawa held up his hand, "Oh? Changing your mind?"
"Let me inject my own hormones," Ogawa signed forcefully.
"Hmm," the Doctor smiled, "I could allow that. Under my direct supervision." He nodded, "Alright, yes. Any other requests while we're at it? Within reason of course."
Ogawa blinked, caught off guard, and took another step back, "What?"
"You obviously haven't cared for the food I brought - oh! Would you look at that, you have eaten. Good. But yes, special requests, extra privileges, et cetera. I am not unkind."
The Doctor glanced at the other two, thankful their shock rendered them silent. He leaned forward, focusing on Ogawa, "It's your choice."
Ogawa swallowed roughly and frowned, looking to Shimeno who shook her head in warning. He gave her a weak grin and stood taller.
"Mirai… and Ms. Nozomi. Give them something warmer," Ogawa signed carefully, "... It's freezing in here."
Easy.
The Doctor's smile widened.
All for One was right. Those in the hero industry are just too easy to manipulate.
He gripped the cell's doorknob firmly, as if shaking Ogawa's hand, and nodded.
"Deal."
Souma sat on his metal cot with his knees drawn to his chest. He rubbed at the site of the second injection and blew a puff of steam.
His skin crawled.
Hours had passed - exactly ten hours and twenty-four minutes - and both Mirai and Nozomi were asleep - bundled in thick blankets provided by… that doctor.
Trust.
Souma ran a hand through his hair and frowned, He's being awfully 'nice.' I don't like it, but perhaps we can take advantage of it.
Scratching behind his ear, Souma thought of their last escorted visit to the restroom.
That noumu creature… He frowned and scratched at his wrist, huffing with irritation, It doesn't seem too… aware. If one of us could find a way to trap it…
Souma hissed under his breath, steam billowing from his lips, as the itch spread up his arm and down his back.
What the hell?
He looked down at his red, irritated skin and rubbed. White flakes peeled back and a shine caught the light.
He yelped.
"M-Mirai!"
Tears pricked in his eyes, and he slammed his knuckles against the glass, knocking furiously and jolting Mirai awake.
"Mirai! What is this!" He held up his arm, and tears streaked down his face as the unbearable urge to scratch nearly overwhelmed him.
Mirai blinked owlishly, rubbing at her eyes and staring down at his arm.
She looked up in shock, "Scales…?"
Souma's breath caught.
He looked down and rotated his arm. It was the same light tan color as normal, but -
His chest burned, and he felt his cheeks heat up. Coughing, steam whooshed from his throat then stopped. He wheezed, core temperature still rising.
His breath quickened, but no steam came.
"Wrong!" He panted and signed frantically, "I feel -!"
The heat in his core bled to the rest of his limbs, and he stared at his arm in shock.
Faint trails of steam seeped from the - the scales on his arm.
The edges of his vision bled white, and he gasped for breath, surrounded by his own steam.
Hot…
He swayed and fell forward, hand and forehead pressed against the cool glass.
White and gray filled his line of sight.
Too hot...
His lower back ached.
Water…
Toshinori frowned, scrolling through his phone, and glanced at the upper right corner of the screen.
3:28AM.
Kicking off his covers, he huffed, turned onto his stomach, and propped himself up onto a few pillows. His tail flicked in irritation as he shook the thin blanket off his good foot, claws catching on the fabric.
He heaved a tired sigh.
Looks like I'm not getting sleep anytime soon.
He stared at the article on his phone, the headline a glaring red.
Breaking News! Another Abduction Leaves Strange Residue and Growing Unease
Is there a serial abductor in Musutafu? Police won't confirm.
Another woman was abducted off the street, leaving only more of All for One's transmission sludge on the sidewalk.
Naomasa called just before dinner to give Toshinori the news.
Nozomi Shishiki, a local librarian and after-school tutor for young children. She showed up for work in the morning, left for a late breakfast, and never returned to her desk. Her husband reported her missing when she didn't come home or answer her phone that afternoon.
The police were taking missing persons cases more seriously, forgoing the standard 48 hour window. When they were informed of the new missing persons call, Naomasa's team was deployed and found the transmission residue just outside the library staff exit.
Toshinori locked his phone and pressed the top of it against the deep crease in his brow. Glancing over to his desk, his crutches glinted sharply in the clear graytones of his room.
He grunted and sat up, swinging his legs off the bed.
"I need some air…"
Grabbing his coat and a single crutch, Toshinori limped over to the sliding glass door and onto the balcony. He closed his eyes, leaning on the railing, and took several deep breaths of the crisp night air.
He sighed and frowned at his hock, itching to move.
If it's not one thing, it's another with this body.
He winced at the slip, running a hand through his hair, and he forced a smile, "My body."
And what abouttheir bodies? A quiet voice whispered in the back of his mind.
Toshinori shoved his hands into his pockets, tail lashing.
Something sharp pricked the palm of his hand, and he frowned.
Curling his fingers, he felt a small business card and pulled it out curiously.
Ah… 'William Howard Wright. Investigator.' Toshinori read, recalling their brief conversation.
"We share a mutual interest it seems."
Toshinori knew bait when he saw it. Regardless, the call to help pulled and pulled .
He tucked the card away and gripped the handrails.
Souma Ogawa. Mirai Shimeno. Tayori Yamadori. Kousuke Shiga. And now… Nozomi Shishiki.
He grit his teeth, Those are just the ones we know about. He may have taken even more!
How many quirks could the Good Doctor give them in the time they'd been missing?
How many more would he take?
How long…?
I have to find them. I can't just-
He flinched as his tail crashed against the railing, the loud clang ringing out into the night air.
Shit. Shit. He looked around at the neighboring windows and sighed in relief when no lights turned on. Rubbing his sore tail, he squared his shoulders.
Naomasa is looking. He's the best at what he does… and if he needs me, he'll call.
Exhaustion weighed down his shoulders, but he smiled limping back into his room. Sitting on the edge of his bed, Toshinori pulled out his phone and turned up the volume, resting it next to his pillow.
He'll call if he finds anything, like always.
Toshinori tossed his coat back onto his chair and sunk back onto his bed.
He'll find them...
Until then, he would have to wait.
Unease stirred in his gut, and he rubbed at his wrists.
Waiting is always the hardest part.
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