The plan is simple and in its simplicity are thousands of ways things could go wrong.
The villain may not be alone when he comes to get them. The girl's quirk may be too weak to cause the villain any harm. It may be too strong and end up incapacitating Yuuto as well. Or she may not be able to use her quirk at all.
He doesn't have any contingency plans for any of those occasions so he desperately hopes things go well.
And for once, they do.
The second the villain steps into the room, the girl uses her quirk and he freezes. His eyes glass over and his arms jerk like he doesn't know what to do with them. The villain sways in place, his head tilted to the side like a cat, except cats very rarely look so lost. It's almost as if he's forgotten why he's there and isn't sure whether he's trying to enter or leave.
Yuuto takes the opportunity to dart forward and snatch the syringe out of his hand. He stabs it into the man's arm, hoping it hits a blood vessel, and pushes down on the injector. The transparent liquid leaves the syringe far too quickly for it to be normal, and after a few seconds of Yuuto staring up and the man staring down, he collapses in a heap.
For a second, it feels like they all stop breathing.
"That- is he dead?" asks the girl.
Yuuto stares down at the man.
He should check, he thinks idly. If he's alive, he might have to… do something. What, he isn't quite sure, but something so he doesn't have to worry about the villain coming after them. And if he's dead- Well. At least he won't have to worry.
He doesn't want to check. He isn't sure whether that's because he wants him to be dead or alive.
"I don't know," he answers honestly, his feet planted firmly in place and his hands still by his side.
The girl shudders before scooting forward to grab onto his hospital gown. "I don't like this," she whispers.
It's uncomfortable. Her hand twists in the fabric so it simultaneously pulls across his shoulders and hitches up to brush against the back of his knees, and he's hyper-aware of the way it scratches at the scars. He feels an urge to shrug her off, make her let go, but memories of wrapping his arms around her, holding her hand, whispering comforts keep him still. He knows she's only holding onto him because she's scared and he's familiar and safe. He knows if he pulls away now, she'll cry. But knowing and feeling are completely different things and Yuuto finds he can't quite do the latter.
Still, Yuuto raises a hand and despite how it feels wrong like he's pretending to be someone he isn't, he pats her on the head twice.
"It's going to be fine," he parrots after the memories of whispering the same thing over and over again. "We'll go home."
He must have done something wrong because unlike his memories, the girl doesn't seem comforted. She looks up at him with wide grey eyes that slowly, yet still far too quickly, fill with tears.
Was it his tone? Should he have pat her on the head once more?
He doesn't know.
The tears don't fall and the girl's mouth tightens in a thin line that wavers far too much.
"I'll make things better," she says firmly as her hand moves down to grab his own. Yuuto tries to hide his relief. "I'll tell Mama and she'll fix you."
He doesn't need fixing, he thinks, but the girl looks so determined that he decides to let it go.
"Okay," he says, and the girl nods.
"Let's go home," she says, and after Yuuto carefully fishes the keys to his cuffs out of the villain's pocket and takes them off, they leave.
The girl looks back once.
Yuuto doesn't.
The restraints aren't on his wrists anymore but the girl's hand is just as binding when all he wants to do is sink into the shadows.
Leave her, whispers a voice.
It's tempting. Awfully tempting. It would be so easy to get out of the hideout if he was on his own. Every shadow that leads into another is a road, a path that's open to him and him only, and he remembers a time from long long ago when he took that path and left. All he had to do was give a slight tug and he'd be free.
But would he?
It isn't only the girl's hand that binds him.
Memories, empty and shallow but still there nonetheless, churn through his head, keeping every step grounded upon solid concrete. Yuuto remembers reading through fables Aizawa and Yamada sent him where everything is right or wrong, or smart or stupid. He remembers listening to Hakamata and Blue Jay as they talk about work and he remembers how they automatically know when something is a 'should' versus a 'could.' He remembers days and nights of promising the little girl he'd get her home and how she'd always seem to sleep better afterwards.
He doesn't remember the 'why' (and it's her fault, a voice hisses) but he still remembers.
So he doesn't let himself pull away.
The minion he sent out before them shakes its head violently, catching his attention.
He pulls the girl with him behind a corner. She's startled, but she doesn't let out a sound and sits crouched down on the ground behind him. Yuuto closes his eyes just as he creates another minion. This one scampers out into the still empty hallway right besides them, while the first carefully follows the two villains that are slowly, casually, but steadily heading their way.
It's confusing, trying to keep track of which minion he's seeing through. Even though the bond with the very first he created before he was taken back to the lab had weakened until he could barely get anything more than wisps of colours and shapes, the other two are still fairly new. He sees the villains walking down the hallway right next to them and he feels his heart jump to his throat - until they walk through a wall and he realizes he's mixed up the minions. They're not here. They're still at least a few turns away.
His fingers momentarily slip into a shadow cast on the wall beside him before he pulls them back. He wishes he'd bothered to check if it were safe to take living beings with him into the shadows, because if he had, then he'd be able to take the girl and hide until they left.
Or not. Depending on how his quirk worked.
Thankfully, the villains take a turn that leads away from them and the hallway that's closest stays clear. Yuuto gets back to his feet and his newest minion returns. He reaches out a hand and the minion disperses as soon as his fingers brush against its arm.
"Is it safe?" the girl whispers and Yuuto winces as her voice echoes in the too-quiet hallway.
He gives her a jerky nod and her shoulders slump. The minion that had been following the villains goes back to looking through the hideout for an escape route.
But then there's a scream and every single window in the hideout shatters. A shard of glass hits the minion and it disperses.
Not before it sees.
"They're here," Yuuto breathes and the girl grabs his arm in a tight grip.
"Who?" she asks. Her voice is much too loud but it doesn't matter, not when Yuuto knows they're probably the least of the villains' worries.
"The heroes," he answers.
Something warm and bright rises in his chest and he thinks it might be hope.
-A few days ago-
Who has it harder? The person kidnapped or the person left behind?
The rational part of Tsunagu's brain knows it's the former. The emotional part that can't keep quiet insists it's the latter.
Yuuto's gone.
When they rushed back from the hideout (fake hideout) it was to see Gang Orca's agency up in flames. Not completely - most of the lower levels were fine - but he could see a flicker of red from behind a thick cloud of black and grey rising from the windows on the third floor. Three of Gang Orca's co-workers died and another seven ended up in critical with burns and damage from inhaling smoke.
Kugo was devastated.
And Yuuto's gone.
It took them three hours to put out the fire. In that time they managed to rescue most of the people who worked in the upper-stories. Including Queen who'd been shot.
Spinal damage, the doctor told Tsunagu after hours of surgery. She won't be able to walk again.
He doesn't know how he's going to tell her she's going to have to go into early retirement.
That and the fact that Blue Jay's dead.
It's been years since he last had to attend a funeral. He can't remember how he got through the last one.
And Yuuto's gone.
"Tsunagu?"
A voice breaks into his thoughts and he looks up to see Kugo. He looks tired. The reasons, Tsunagu thinks wryly, are rather obvious.
"How are you?"
A snort escapes before Tsunagu can keep it in. It comes out dry and flat so at least he doesn't think Kugo will be offended. "I should be asking you," he says.
Kugo lets out a small sigh as he takes a seat next to him. They're in Tsunagu's office - though since he'd offered to let Kugo's agency work with his until they get their agency rebuilt, he supposes it's technically 'theirs' for the time being.
"You know how I've been," says Kugo and the exhaustion in his voice is so thick it's almost tangible.
"I'm sorry," says Tsunagu.
"It isn't your fault," says Kugo.
But isn't it?
"I should have stayed with Yuuto."
"You couldn't have known it was a trap," Kugo counters immediately.
Tsunagu considers pointing out that in hindsight, they should have expected it since the villains should have known Yuuto would have told them, but he stays silent. He doesn't think it's him, Kugo's trying to convince, not really.
"All evidence pointed to the fact that the hideout was still in use. There were villains going in and out on a semi-regular basis. Some were even big-shots. And we caught them. Every single one of them except for four, and those four were small-fry that ran as soon as we got on-site."
He shouldn't say this, he knows that but- "That hardly matters when it wasn't even why we were there, does it?"
He sees Kugo's mouth turn down. "What do you mean that's not why we were there. We're heroes. It's our job to bring in villains."
"No," says Tsunagu. He shouldn't do this - Kugo's looking for comfort and someone to tell him there wasn't anything they could do, not someone to make things worse - but sometimes when he least wants it his mouth takes on a life of its own. "It's our job to save people, not bring in villains. We were there for the children. The ones that were being experimented on, are being experimented on. We were there to bring them back. I was there, specifically, to bring them back safely. And we couldn't. We couldn't save a single, damn child, because there wasn't anyone there. We lost the only child we managed to save - and fuck, we didn't even save him did we? Yuuto saved himself, and we lost him."
Kugo tries to interrupt, but Tsunagu doesn't give him the chance.
"The villains we caught? None of them is directly involved in the actual process of kidnapping children and experimenting on them. All they do, all they know is that they're supposed to guard the hideout - the empty hideout so we have gained nothing. You've lost people, I've lost people, we've lost Yuuto and we've gained nothing. I should have stayed," he's on his feet and has begun pacing without even realizing it. "I promised I'd keep him safe but I left him because I decided I needed to be a hero and save everyone else when I specifically promised him, and fuck, what was I supposed to do. I am a hero, I can't focus on only one person but when I try to save more I end up saving less."
The scar on his chin throbs. It pulses like it has a life of his own, and Tsunagu subconsciously tilts his head down so his collar comes up to right below his eyes. It doesn't feel like it's enough, though. He feels like he's been laid bare, like Kugo with his far too knowing eyes can see through the thick fabric right into his soul.
"What's this about?" Kugo asks, and though his voice is carefully neutral, Tsunagu feels like he's being interrogated.
"You know what this is about," he snaps back.
Kugo frowns and for a second, Tsunagu thinks he's about to snap as well (for good reason) but he visibly reins himself in before continuing in a deliberately level voice. "I don't, actually. Tell me."
He doesn't want to; it's stupid, unprofessional, unnecessary- but it's like a toxic gas building up in his chest. It pushes and prods and grows until it fills every single space in his body until the only thing he can do is let it out if he doesn't want to break.
"We're heroes," he starts and Kugo's brows furrow. "It's our job to save people so that's what I was trying to do. Because the last time I focused on saving a person, it, it went wrong so this time I was trying to save people but fuck, what am I supposed to do if that goes wrong as well?"
For an entirety of two seconds, Kugo looks confused before the confusion melts into realization. "This is about Misaki," he says and Tsunagu looks away. "It's been thirteen years," Kugo continues, simultaneously disbelieving and pitying, and Tsunagu's scar burns. "And it still bothers you?"
"Yes, it still bothers me!" The threads on his costume don't move - he has too much control over his quirk for that - but it still feels like they're closing in on him. The high collar he wears to hide the scar, to hide his mistake, feels like it's tightening around his neck. Like a noose, he thinks and he resists the urge to pull it up higher.
"It was my fault. I was stupid and arrogant and went after a villain that was holding one child, one, and I left him alone to deal with half-a-dozen villains and twice as many civilians."
As faded as the memories had become, he still remembers the sequence of events that happened that day, almost as if they had been ingrained in his mind. He and Misaki had been going back to the agency after the pro accompanying them had left to take care of an emergency. They saw a bank robbery take place. They, in all the arrogant stupidity of seventeen-year-old hero-hopefuls with their shiny new provisional licenses, decided to intervene.
Things had gone fine, at first. They were good - quite very good, even by pro standards. He used his quirk to pull most of the hostages to safety while Misaki took care of the villains. It was easy. Until one of the villains managed to break out of the net Misaki had thrown over her.
She'd dashed forward to grab an awe-struck child right out of her mother's arms and made a break for it. Tsunagu followed. Despite knowing he was leaving Misaki to deal with two, as of yet unneutralized opponents, he'd left because he was such a hero and decided he needed to save the child. And he did.
He got her back, receiving his scar in the process, but then-
The entire building shakes and he reaches out a hand to steady himself. The child clutching at his costume lets out a terrified shriek that hurts his ears and he can't help but wince. There's screaming and shouting - that's nothing new - but it's different from before. It's less 'startled' and 'worried', and more 'terrified' and 'panicked'.
It shouldn't be either. Misaki was still there. He should have things under control.
Except when Tsunagu stumbles into the lobby, he finds that he doesn't.
A part of his mind notices the fire spreading across the many papers littering the desks. Another notices the sprinklers have gone off and he can hear a siren in the distance. Most of his mind is preoccupied with the villain standing over Misaki.
That and how his friend's legs are a good six feet away from his body.
"Thought you could take us on all on your lonesome, eh?" the villain says as he leans forward to sneer down at Misaki. "Fucking hero brats, thinking they're the best thing in the world."
He isn't talking to Tsunagu, hasn't even noticed he's here yet, but each word hits his ears like they were meant for him.
"Too bad you were wrong, eh? Should have thought better before you sent your friend after Rose."
But he didn't. Misaki never sent Tsunagu. Tsunagu's the one who left.
"If you hadn't, you might've saved half of the people here. But how are you going to save them now? Eh?"
The villain laughs but his voice is drowned out in the little girl's scream as she starts to struggle in Tsunagu's arms.
He lets her go and she runs off to a piece of rubble. He looks and-
There's a woman caught underneath. The girl's calling her 'Mom.'
It doesn't take much to realize she's dead.
"It was my fault," says Tsunagu and Kugo doesn't disagree.
"I made a mistake and it cost lives - and I don't just mean in casualties. Misaki - he still doesn't talk to me. My best friend since middle school and he still doesn't talk to me, and do you know what's worse? I can't blame him. He lost his legs, his entire career because I left without checking to see if he had things under control. I was short-sighted. I couldn't prioritize. I was too focused on saving a single child that I didn't realize there was a choice, that what I was doing was choosing. And that choice had consequences."
"So you made a different choice," Kugo cuts in. "You decided to try to save other children when you could. You didn't make a mistake."
"Didn't I? You know the results - can you honestly say it wasn't a mistake, even now?"
"So what if it was?" Kugo looks at him with his mouth pulled into a thin, tight line. His shoulders are tense, almost to the point that he can see a slight tremor run through them, and if Tsunagu was anyone else he might have thought Kugo was angry. He knows better, though, and he knows what he's seeing is more frustration than anything else. "You didn't make a mistake. You did make a mistake. Does it matter?"
"I don't know what to do anymore-"
"Bullshit."
Kugo was frustrated before. Now, Tsunagu realizes, he's angry.
"I thought you hated excuses. Do you even hear yourself? 'I don't know what to do anymore,'" he mimics, his voice high and mocking and Tsunagu feels his hands tighten into fists. "You're a hero. I don't care what you do - save a person, save a group, hell, save an entire country - as long as you're still saving someone. You might not know how to do it and you never really know until the end whether your actions actually save people, but you're still trying."
"What are you going to do if you don't know what to do? Sit there twiddling your thumbs? Play with clothes? Feel sorry for yourself? My agency's gone up in flames. I really don't want to measure grief with quantity, but I've lost three of my sidekicks and may lose seven others. You don't get to feel sorry for yourself if I don't. If I won't."
"Yuuto doesn't die," says Kugo, his voice harsh. "He's waiting for us. He's waiting for you. And there may be other kids that are waiting to be saved as well. Don't tell me you're just going to leave them to mope."
But what if he makes things worse?
He doesn't say anything, but Kugo seems to see something in his expression. The fury in his face dies down into something softer. Still frustrated, not quite gentle, but less accusing nonetheless.
"Think of it this way," he offers. "Yuuto's already gone, so you can't worry about losing him again. He doesn't die - and no, that doesn't mean it's fine if he, well, dies, but at least you don't have to worry about it sticking. And as for other kids," Kugo hesitates like he isn't quite sure he wants to say what he's thinking, but after a moment he blurts out, "it's not like they'll survive if we can't save them anyway."
"Kugo!"
"I'm sorry, but it's true!"
That was highly, highly inappropriate of him as a hero, but it does manage to get them both to relax. Kugo scratches the back of his head sheepishly while Tsunagu lets out a long-suffering sigh. He'd rather Kugo had phrased that in a different manner, but, he does have a point.
He can't save anyone if he doesn't even try.
Heroes aren't people who try to keep things from worsening. They're people who actively try to make things better. Sometimes, it's inevitable that they make mistakes. You're bound to fall once in a while if you keep running, but the point is, Tsunagu realizes, that you've gone that far ahead. If you fall, you risk the chance of bringing down the people around you, but if you stop running entirely, you can never reach that person hanging on the edge of the cliff by a thread.
It's a simple thing. Simple and obvious and something he's heard countless times since he was a student.
And yet, he's been so afraid that during the past decade whenever he was given a choice, he's only ever played it safe.
That was why it was always Yuuto who came to him.
This time, he intends to go to Yuuto.
"But how?" he asks aloud, and Kugo stares.
"What?"
The answer comes to them in the form of a text a couple of days later.
"Why," it reads, even as Tsunagu practically runs into the meeting room, his hands shaking as everyone else looks up in thinly-veiled hope, "is there a minion outside the window of my classroom. Why is it waving. Tell the kid to stop, it's distracting my students."
They have a lead.
A/N: I am so, so sorry about the late chapter. I was so sure I'd be able to juggle writing my fics (and yes, they're plural - I should have known better but, human) and school but I'd been procrastinating on a couple of essays (I do not recommend that) and they all caught up to me recently so I was awfully (and by awfully, I mean both 'very' and 'awful') busy last week. That, plus chapters are getting really harder to write. I'll try to make sure it doesn't happen again.
If I'm ever really late, there should be note in my profile so check that?
On a different note:
a guest reviewer left a very good question in their review (thank you by the way!), and it's not critical in understanding the plot, but it is fairly important so I'll try to explain.
The reviewer asked how Blue Jay was supposed to be in Yuuto's head when he didn't have a quirk that absorbed people - the answer is that technically, he isn't. I think I mentioned this in an earlier chapter, but Memorize isn't really a memorization quirk. It's more of a memory box that stores everything Yuuto experiences and Yuuto can rifle through it whenever he wants to. The memories of other lives are from when he got his other quirks, as people probably guessed - think of it like when he got the quirks, the boxes came along with them so he gets a separate box of memories for each.
Rationally speaking, there's no reason why he should be able to hear the voices. When people watch movies, they don't hear the characters talk to them when they go to sleep, do they? But he's still ten and alone and scared so, as a way of coping, his mind took the memories and based on them, it created personalities that would talk to him and walk him through any problems he had and distract him when things got bad.
When Yuuto got taken back to the lab, his mental health took a nose-dive because he got out but now he's back again and so, the voices took on the depressed hopelessness plus guilt that was prominent in his mind, so they stopped being a safe haven and took on a more malicious turn. Blue Jay's voice is kind of a result of that. Kind of.
The other voices were based on his quirks' previous owners' memories - Blue Jay(and Best Jeanist)'s voice is based on Yuuto's own memories of the sidekick. He loved him and he feels guilty about his death (he doesn't know for sure, but he's smart enough to guess) so tada! Blue Jay becomes one of the voices. Blue Jay's voice is a weird mix of being kind but also gently making Yuuto feel guilty. (I know, it probably doesn't really show in the fic...)
I tried to allude to this in previous chapters, but yeah, it probably wasn't enough. That's completely on me as the writer so I'm sorry about that. I've written a handful of fics before this, but I've never actually gotten so far in the plot before so it's probably from a mix of inexperience, too ambitious an idea, and my lack of ability to build things up clearly. I'd considered trying to clarify things in later chapters, but I couldn't think of a way to fit it in without it turning into an info dump out of the blue.
So, ridiculously long author's note it is. Again, sorry for not being clearer (I'll do better next time!) and thank you to the guest who pointed this out to me! I really appreciate it and I love your review. Thanks :)