Oh God, there's another one.
The thought came unbidden to Toshinori's mind, and it engulfed him in the closest thing to pure dread he had felt in years. It had taken two centuries, the sacrifice of seven One For All users, and two of his own major organs to take down a single All For One wielder, and now a brand new one had somehow sprouted right in front of him.
Now. Now that he had finally decided to tackle the hurdle of entrusting a relatively stable Japan to a successor, now that he was weaker and less capable than ever of defending it from a new threat. Now that the deadline of Nighteye's prophecy was drawing closer and closer. His own gruesome death on the battlefield, and the sudden reappearance of All For One's quirk. The unavoidable connection between the two facts almost robbed him of his breath.
Toshinori couldn't tear his eyes away from the boy's hand. It looked diminutive in comparison to his own, and completely inoffensive. It had the soft, unblemished appearance that suited someone who had never hit anything bigger than a fly, whereas the hero's skin had long since been roughened by calluses, and his joints slightly thwarted by the occasional fracture. Yet, that single, unassuming dimple in the middle of its palm made it more potentially destructive than a hundred of Smashes combined.
A sort of choked whimper made Toshinori finally raise his gaze. He realized he had stopped trying to school his expression only when he saw his own strung-out stupor mirrored in Midoriya's features.
"I-I… Sorry, I r-really have t-to…" The boy took a step back, his hand slipping from the man's grasp, then he suddenly turned on his heels and motioned to sprint away.
"Hey, hey!" Toshinori reached forward, grabbing Midoriya's wrist by sheer reflex. He had already wasted enough time and energy chasing slimy villains and rash teenagers all over the town that day, thank you very much. "Where are you going?"
Midoriya froze on the spot, as if shocked by an electric current. His arm was rigid in Toshinori's grasp, pulling away from it but without any real conviction. His head turned slowly towards the hero but not fully, letting him see only half of the boy's face. The unmistakable terror etched in those wide eyes made something constrict in Toshinori's chest.
"I-I'm… I'm so sorry…" The boy's voice was down a trembling, barely audible whisper."I didn't mean to d-do that… I've never… I won't do it again, I swear, j-just…"
Midoriya's free hand hovered over the hero's, maybe having half a mind of prying it open, but he didn't even dare to touch it. Toshinori let go of him immediately. The kid wasn't expecting it, judging by his flabbergasted expression, and all he did with his regained freedom was backing away from him with a couple of uncertain steps, bumping into a nearby electric pole with his backpack and just standing there, pretty much like a cornered mouse cowering before a lion.
The sight jolted Toshinori back to reality with brutal efficiency. God, what was wrong with him today? He was handling this abysmally. That was no two-hundred-year-old manipulative slaughterer, that was a child. A child rapidly working himself into a panic, if his onsetting tremors were of any indication. Ironically, the realization grounded Toshinori even more. Frightened victims and distraught relatives were a daily occurrence in his line of work, and his professional composure slipped back in place almost subconsciously.
"You don't need to apologize. Quite the opposite. You saved everyone. The hostage, the bystanders… even me. I'm not sure I'd have had the energy to keep up appearances after another smash." He put up his hands and showed his palms with slow movements, keeping his voice low and level. "You did nothing wrong back there."
Midoriya slowly slumped down the pole, his limbs huddled in a distressed heap. He blinked quickly as his eyes shied away from Toshinori's, hands bunching up the fabric of his trousers nervously. "...I-I can give it back. The quirk. I want to give it back to its owner."
"That can be easily arranged." Something about the whole situation was nagging at Toshinori, but he pushed that feeling aside for the moment. The boy wasn't holding himself in any way that hinted at specific injuries, but fear could be one hell of an anesthetic. He gazed up and down the road, finding it completely deserted. He still felt slightly abuzz with the adrenaline rush caused by his second encounter with the sludge villain and the recent revelation of Midoriya's quirk. He gauged that he could probably (possibly, maybe, hopefully) abuse One For All for another twenty seconds or so if need be, just the time to scoop up the boy in his arms and power run back to the ambulances at the site of the accident. That was likely to cause even more distress to the poor kid though, so he'd rather hold off on it unless clearly necessary. "Are you sure you aren't in any pain?"
"I-I'm f-fine." The boy wiggled the backpack off his shoulders and rummaged through it shakily, a few tears rolling down his cheeks and his hiccups becoming harder to contain. "I'm fine…"
"Hey, kid. Look at me. Deep breaths." Toshinori finally ventured a step and a half towards Midoriya, squatting at a reasonable distance to his side instead of right in front of him, to make sure he wouldn't feel too crowded. Toshinori offered him a couple of tissues (always plentiful in his pockets) while the boy tried to regain a semblance of calm. "It's all right. I am here."
That got the boy's attention. The catchphrase had slipped out of him automatically, without his trademark panache or blinding smile or overflowing optimism, but Midoriya looked at him like he'd been thrown a lifeline nonetheless. The dam broke and big, shiny tears erupted from his eyes as he accepted the tissues and buried his sobs in them. They remained like that for a while, the kid quietly working through his sniffles while Toshinori sat cross-legged on the dusty asphalt, reminding him to take his time whenever he got a little fidgety.
"Sorry if I spooked you." Toshinori eventually offered with a small smile, after Midoriya had finally settled down. "I'm a little out of it myself, today. Not the most auspicious first day in my new neighborhood, but what can you do?"
"Uh? Do you mean you're moving here?" Midoriya asked while he accepted the fourth tissue and wiped away the remaining dampness from his face.
"Mh-hm." After the debacle on the rooftop, this didn't feel like too much of a sensitive bit of information to share. Besides, the kid was a fan, so maybe throwing him a bone would help him relax a little more.
"Why? Isn't it inconvenient for you? I thought you lived in a penthouse above Might Tower, in Tokyo's Minato Ward, Roppongi 6-12-"
...Ah, he was that kind of fan. Obviously. "Indeed, but I've decided to move to… broaden my professional horizons, so to speak."
"Oh! Are you planning to open a branch of your agency here? Or are you joining some local long-term operation?" That spark of morbid curiosity in the boy's eyes made Toshinori regret bringing up the topic in two seconds flat.
"I'm afraid that's all I can say on the matter, everything's still under tight wraps. You'll hear all about it from the news, eventually." He stood up and patted some dirt off his hands and pants. "Do you live far from here? I'll walk you home if you're feeling better."
"Oh, uh…" The boy gaped at him in surprise. "Thank you, but there's no need for you to go out of your way! I'm fine, really!"
"Think nothing of it." Toshinori hooked three fingers under the strap of the boy's backpack and hauled it over his own shoulder. It hit his back with unexpected oomph. What did kids even put in those things, weren't textbooks all digital these days? "Clearly this isn't your lucky day either. I'll sleep better tonight knowing that you reached your house safely without being run over by a truck or abducted by aliens."
The joke got a half-smile out of Midoriya, at long last. He held out his hand to the boy to help him back on his feet. The obvious hesitation and near disbelief he couldn't hide before gingerly accepting the proffered hand gave Toshinori another small wave of unease. There was definitely something strange about all this, aside from the obvious. He gestured for the kid to lead the way, and they set off towards their new destination.
Toshinori granted him a few minutes of silence before breaching the pivotal subject. "So… you have quite the interesting quirk."
"...Mh." Midoriya visibly stiffened. So it had been the quirk talk to give him cold feet, rather than a generic reaction to the day's stress...
"Why didn't you use it against the villain the first time he attacked you?" Toshinori asked, opting for a more roundabout approach.
"Ah… I'm sorry. I really should have. You wouldn't have had to waste your power if I'd-"
"Forget about me! Why didn't you use it to defend yourself? Did you panic?"
"Uh, well, not too much." The kid shoved his hands in his pockets and dropped his gaze to the ground, his voice lowering to a droning mutter. "I can take quirks, but I don't automatically learn how to use them. The villain's quirk looked like it may be difficult to handle. What if I couldn't maintain a solid form and just turned myself into a puddle of goo? What if some parts of my slime got detached from the main body during the scuffle, and I found myself missing chunks of flesh upon turning back human? What if the sludge was only an outer layer over my body, and without fine control I ended up drowning in it? Stuff like that… I should have just taken the villain's quirk without activating it, but I was afraid that he'd get even angrier and he'd just beat me up anyway. I'm not, uh, strong. Or fast. At all. I didn't consider that he might freak out long enough for me to run away…"
Toshinori blinked. "...Sorry, how long had that guy been harassing you before I showed up?"
"Oh, not long at all. Twenty or thirty seconds, I think."
"And you went through all of that in twenty seconds. While being ambushed and choked."
Midoriya just shrugged.
"That is… some quick thinking, all right." Toshinori commented. He omitted the fact that it was a brand of quick thinking that was more likely to get you killed rather than saving your skin during an emergency. Apparently Midoriya would hesitate to protect himself from a violent attacker, but he'd run for the hills the moment the Symbol of Peace gave him a bit of an odd look. The kid's fight-or-flight response was all over the place.
"I would have used my quirk to fight back eventually, if you hadn't arrived so soon… probably…"
"...But?" Toshinori encouraged, sensing the unspoken addition.
"But… not many people know about my quirk. Very few, actually. And I'd like to keep it that way. If it's possible."
"Why?"
"...It's not a good quirk." Midoriya frowned, hunching his shoulders a bit. "One could do really bad things with it."
"I could squash a man's skull with my thumb and level a city block with a punch." Toshinori countered plainly. "It doesn't mean I'm going to."
"It's… it's different. You can choose to use your quirk only for good, but mine requires…" The boy trailed off, then hazarded a glance at the hero. "You know what I mean. You understood as soon as I told you, I saw it."
Toshinori couldn't argue on that point, unfortunately. Still…
There could be a perfectly innocent explanation for Midoriya to wield All For One. For one, it could be a different quirk altogether, one that simply mimicked Toshinori's nemesis', but that wasn't quite the same, maybe with some unmentioned limitations (although the palm marks made for quite the uncanny similarity). Moreover, much like look-alikes, duplicate quirks between unrelated people weren't unheard of, although said quirks were usually quite simple ones, like basic physical enhancers or elemental emitters.
What really bothered Toshinori were the boy's evident sense of guilt and fear of exposure. Virtually any moderately powerful quirk could be employed to 'do really bad things', but hardly any children grew up to be so blatantly scared and ashamed of their own abilities. Family and school usually nurtured a degree of confidence and trust in their own capabilities. Toshinori's knee-jerk reaction was a byproduct of specific knowledge and experience, but Midoriya's? If only few people knew about his quirk, it must mean he hadn't used it much, if at all, in the past, ruling out peer pressure as well. What explanation, what innocent explanation could there be for such a strong negative bias, aside from knowledge and experience he wasn't supposed to have?
"At least your parents know about your quirk, I hope?"
"My mother doesn't. My father… isn't really around." Toshinori couldn't decide if that last bit of information was a good or a bad sign.
"So… who did you tell?"
"Just one friend and my father." Ah, we had one likely culprit then. A father that was around but not really. Suspicious. "And now you, I guess. And… everyone who saw what I did to that villain… including the police…" Midoriya looked just about ready to dig a ditch and roll in it.
"Well, as I said, everyone seemed to think I took care of the matter, so-"
Midoriya shook his head, utterly demoralized. "Kacchan will tell them."
"Kacchan?"
"Ah, the hostage. He's my friend, the one who knows about my quirk. I don't think he'll lie to the police for my sake."
"Ah, I see. I hadn't realized you two were acquainted." Toshinori offered him a supportive smile. "I guess that explains your burst of heroism."
"...No one else was doing anything. I saw you among the crowd, but… I thought you couldn't help."
The boy had an almost tortured expression, which reignited the deep-seated guilt that had plagued Toshinori in those harrowing minutes. "...I thought I couldn't help either."
"But you did jump in though. Even though… it hurts you?" Midoriya scanned him from head to toe in concern, as if looking for unnoticed signs of damage. "Why?"
"Why did you decide to intervene, despite your fear?"
"I… I just couldn't let my friend suffer because I messed up."
"Well, there you have it." Toshinori simply said. The boy stared at him thoughtfully, apparently weighing his words carefully, before nodding slowly and resuming his perusal of the ground. Toshinori let the silence stretch for a minute. There was still plenty he wanted to ask, especially regarding Midoriya's father, but-
"I really do want to give the quirk back." The kid mumbled. "Should I just… go to the police and ask them? They'll come looking for me anyway, I guess, but…"
Toshinori pondered the issue for a moment, then he pulled his phone out of his pocket. The least he could do was make this whole ordeal as smooth as possible for the kid. "I think I can help with that. Give me your number. I'll text you to let you know when we can visit the villain. If we're lucky, it may be as early as tomorrow."
Toshinori registered the boy's contact information as they entered a quaint residential area with neat little rows of numbered buildings, pleasantly tinged with the warm hues of the sunset.
"Ah, that's where I live." Midoriya said afterwards, pointing at a nearby apartment complex. "Thank you for everything, All-"
Toshinori shushed him with a sharp gesture as he gazed around the street nervously. "Please, don't call me that when I'm in this form."
Midoriya froze, then bowed respectfully. "R-Right! Thank you, sir! I'm sorry for causing you so much trouble, and taking so much of your time, and-"
Toshinori waved the upcoming barrage of apologies off and bid him a good evening, waiting for the boy to leave. Which he didn't do.
"Uhm." Midoriya pointed at Toshinori's shoulder with an awkward smile. "I need that…"
Oh, right, backpack. "Whoops, there you go." He tossed Midoriya's belongings to their owner and watched the kid bustle up the stairs of the building and into one of the apartments. Then he fetched his phone and picked the third number on speed-dial.
"Tsukauchi? Do you have a moment? ….Ah, fine, thank you. Listen, can I drop by your place this evening? Something's come up and I'd rather not discuss it on the phone… No, but definitely worth looking into sooner rather than later…"
He hung up a couple of exchanges later, after agreeing on the time for the meeting. Toshinori decided he had enough time to make his way back home, shower and have some sort of passable dinner before ruining his friend's evening. And then he would head back home and he would sleep, even if he had to repeatedly bash his head against a wall to achieve that. He inhaled deeply and let out a long-overdue, exhausted sigh.
What a day.
Hopefully tomorrow wouldn't be quite as taxing.
"THIEF"
Izuku was stuck on the spot, his feet and ankles wrapped in a thick layer of sludge that stretched on the ground as far as the eye could see. The faint light filtering from both ends of the underpass gave it flickering, changing hues, now green like bile, now brown like vomit, now black like tar. It smelled like sewer and dirty toilets.
"BASTARD"
The slime clung to the walls of the underpass, climbing on them as if endowed with its own will. It crawled up higher and higher, and then went on to expand onto the ceiling. Its surface boiled and squirmed producing disgusting squelching sounds. Izuku looked away from the revolting goo-coated structure he was boxed in, he looked towards the exit, hoping that something, someone would show up to drag him out of that hell.
"GIVE IT BACK"
Someone emerged from the sludge, a few meters ahead of him. A man. A flabby, hairless, mucky man, with haunted eyes and a mouth open in a silent scream. He sweated slime, cried slime, drooled slime, from every orifice and every pore of his body. He waded towards Izuku slowly, an arm extended before him as if to grab him. Izuku couldn't stand that sight either. He aimed his gaze at the ceiling, right when a huge bubble of gunk popped right above him, and chunky dollops of filth splashed on his face, into his nose and mouth.
"OR I'LL RIP IT OUT OF YOU"
Izuku coughed and heaved, trying to expel the repulsive substance from his pipes, but two cold, slick hands clamped around his throat, trapping it in his body. He could feel the ooze drip down into his lungs, his stomach- he could feel it wiggle and push, like a living parasite trying to break free from the flesh constraining it. Izuku scrambled to tear the man's hands off him, but those too melted under his fingers like the same fluid that was everywhere, closing down on him, choking him, pulling him apart from the inside-
Izuku woke up with a whole-body lurch that nearly sent him rolling off the bed, sweaty and breathless. He took in the familiar shadows of his room, and the red numbers of his alarm clock floating in the darkness at his eye level.
6:20 AM.
Izuku turned on his belly with a frustrated groan, sinking his face into the pillow. Sure, he'd had a pretty harrowing day yesterday. It was bound to leave him a little shaken and maybe disturb his sleep for a while. But seven nightmares in the span of as many hours seemed slightly excessive. Especially seven instances of the exact same nightmare, sentient goo and Munch-like villain and all. The boy fumbled blindly for his phone to check if he'd received any new messages in the last fifty-five minutes. He hadn't, of course. He prayed that All Might would contact him soon, it didn't take a degree in psychology to guess the nature of the 'unfinished business' his subconscious was so keen on grilling him about.
He stared at the screen blankly, wondering, for roughly the hundredth time, if he should call his father. On one hand, he very probably should. If the man had deemed that little scuffle with Kacchan emergency-worthy, surely a mess this humongous in size warranted a call as well. On the other hand… Izuku didn't really want to.
The previous night's news broadcast had covered the sludge villain incident rather haphazardly, it being a relatively contained accident with no serious consequences or injuries. Izuku was sure they had bothered to touch on the fact in the first place just because All Might had been involved, and the number one hero would receive prime time coverage even for something as trivial as being spotted buying soda at a convenience store. Curiously, Izuku hadn't been mentioned at all, not even indirectly. Kacchan had been named and shown as the victim, the other heroes had been acknowledged, but All Might had been appointed as the sole person responsible for the resolution of the mishap. Not a word about any irresponsible middle schoolers joining the fray.
Izuku had taken it as a promising sign. All Might had likely interceded for him with the police and obtained a modicum of discretion about his involvement, at least in regards to the media. The hero had been so very understanding the previous day - just thinking about it made the boy almost tear up anew. He had barely reacted to the shocking revelation of his quirk, he had tolerated his unseemly outburst, he had spoken to him as if… as if Izuku was just another innocent victim caught up in a bad situation, rather than a potential menace. He hadn't hesitated even for a second to offer him his hand, despite knowing the threat that Izuku's own hands posed. He had… he had made him feel safe, and trusted. He had allowed Izuku to hope that maybe, just maybe, this whole thing could be fixed, that Izuku could handle it with his help, even without subjecting his father to undue sniveling.
And, objectively speaking, what could Izuku's father do at this point? Izuku doubted that, regardless of his governmental position, the man could prevent the truth from spreading once it had reached both the police and the number one hero. Izuku could make an educated guess about his reaction too, and it wasn't all that encouraging. It was too late for stern recommendations about secrecy, or for disappointed sighs and gratuitous snark about Izuku's blind faith in All Might's mediation skills. And, to be perfectly honest, Izuku dreaded the possibility of finally and completely alienating the sympathy of the one person that had supported and advised him for his whole life, in his own peculiar way. Yes, it was childish of him. Yes, he would have to tell his father anyway, eventually. But he'd rather do it after the matter had been settled, hopefully for the best, and after he'd had a little more time to gather his thoughts and figure out how to word it a little less unfavorably for himself. So, there. It was the 28th of April too, he could wait another day or two, at least. No biggie.
By breakfast time, Izuku had reviewed the issue three more times, had another nightmare, and accepted the fact that this was going to be a long day.
School went by in that typical hazy fashion that was the result of intellectual activities synergizing poorly with a sleep-deprived brain. Izuku kept eyeing Kacchan warily throughout the first three classes, harboring the half-baked notion of addressing yesterday's events. He regretted doing it the very moment he opened his mouth to greet him during recess.
"What?" Kacchan growled without sparing him a single glance.
"Uh, ah, I…" How are you was one possible conversation starter. A bad one, for sure. Worrying about Kacchan's well-being implied that he may not be okay, which implied weakness, which invited aggression as a counter-argument. Did you tell anyone else about what I did yesterday was downright rude, as if Izuku's quirk was more important than his friend being almost murdered. In fact, any reference to the villain incident was a minefield. Braver classmates than Izuku had already made their inquiries during homeroom, and Kacchan hadn't taken kindly to their snooping. This really was a bad-
"WHAT?" Kacchan barked, turning sharply towards Izuku and banging his fist on his desk for emphasis.
"Uh, nothing! Just saying hello! Hi! Bye!" Izuku fled the classroom without looking back before Kacchan decided to force-feed him his own shoes.
The first bit of good news of the day reached him during lunch, under the guise of a text.
Hey kid! We can drop by the police station this afternoon at 5 if you're free
Izuku brought up the virtual keyboard to reply, but he stopped with his finger poised over the screen. He blinked at the unlabeled string of digits identifying the sender.
He had All Might's phone number. One of many, probably. Definitely one of the lowest priority lines. Or maybe just some sort of burner phone for communications with civilians only. Still. He had All Might's phone number. All Might was texting him. The realization made him half-choke on his rice.
Should he save it? Would that be a breach of confidentiality? Even if he used a not-too-obvious handle? N1? SP? AM? Ante Meridiem? ...That would just make it more suspicious, wouldn't it? He'd just… commit it to memory for now. In case he ever needed it again. For purely altruistic reasons.
Sure, I'm free! Thank you very much for the help!
Izuku's phone chimed again a couple of minutes later.
We'll come pick you up at your place
That 'we' raised a small wave of anxiety in Izuku, but he willed himself to suppress it. He couldn't expect All Might to shield him from any and all interactions with the force. It'd be fine. He could handle this.
The perspective of visiting the villain revived Izuku's attention for the remaining lessons, only for him to crash back into fidgety inactivity as soon as he got home and found himself without anything to do for almost two hours before the agreed time. Homework was out of the question, he was too distracted. He figured a nap would be the most inoffensive way to while away the time while also recovering some higher brain functions. And so it was only with a mild heart attack that Izuku was roused by the ringing of the doorbell at 4.50 PM.
"Young Midoriya! Good afternoon!" Even at a glance, Izuku could tell that All Might was in better shape than the previous day. He stood a bit straighter, his smile was a bit wider, his hair was slightly less chaotic. He was also wearing slacks and a button up shirt that, while still dramatically oversized, made him look a bit less like a phthisic hospital runaway. "Are you ready to go?"
"Yes! Thank you so much for going out of your way to take care of me!" Izuku declared with a rigid bow to All Might and to the other man standing by his side - definitely a detective, judging by his stereotypical trench coat.
All Might patted the man on the back with an even bigger grin. "This is Naomasa Tsukauchi, my favorite detective on the force! You may speak freely before him, you won't find anyone more trustworthy in the whole of Japan!"
"A pleasure to meet you, Midoriya." Tsukauchi politely removed his hat and shook the boy's hand with an amused smirk, a sign that he was probably familiar with the hero's odd choice of an introduction. He then peeked behind Izuku's shoulders towards the inside of the house. "Isn't your mother going to join us?"
"Ah no, she had a doctor's appointment booked for today. It's fine though, I'll just send her a text to let her know where I'm going." Izuku had warned his mother that he may have to visit the precinct soon. He had had to justify his singed and grimy school uniform the day before, so he had told her that he'd been marginally involved in the sludge villain incident, and the police was likely to want to collect his statement on the matter. It was only by pure chance that the news broadcast hadn't outed his abridgment of the facts.
"Ah… We were hoping to have a few words with her too, actually." Tsukauchi glanced at All Might, whose eyes darted briefly between the detective and the boy.
"I… may have forgotten to mention that." All Might scratched the back of his neck with an apologetic grimace. "Well, I guess it can't be helped. We'll catch up with her another time, if necessary."
Izuku had the sneaking suspicion that being All Might's favorite detective came at a price. Tsukauchi just sighed, before regarding him with a gentle smile. "Well, if you are sure you don't mind coming with us all by yourself…"
"I don't mind at all!" Izuku hurried to reassure them.
A minute later he was in the backseat of Tsukauchi's speeding car, typing a message to his mother and struggling to suppress a monstrous yawn, courtesy of his interrupted nap.
"Tired?" All Might asked, intercepting his gaze in the rearview mirror.
"A bit. I didn't sleep well last night."
"Ah, I know that feeling." The hero's expression mellowed in sympathy. "I'm sure you'll rest more easily once this is over and done with."
"I hope so." Izuku pocketed his phone and gazed at the moving buildings out of the car window, mostly just to break eye contact. Somehow All Might's open kindness felt undeserved, especially for something as trivial as a bunch of spooky dreams. He focused on more urgent matters. "So, uh… how are we going to do this? Does the villain know I'm coming, will I explain things to him? Will you, uh, keep an eye on things from outside or accompany me...?"
"Well, we were thinking of throwing you into his cell, locking the door and letting the two of you fight for dominance and ownership over the quirk- " All Might grinned widely in response to Izuku's exasperated gape.
"Yagi!" The detective reprimanded him, only mildly scandalized. The name bounced a few times around Izuku's brain, plain and mystifying at the same time.
"Sorry, just trying to lift his spirits."
"You have nothing to worry about, it'll be perfectly safe." Tsukauchi provided, clearly having a much better understanding of the state of Izuku's spirits despite knowing him for a scant ten minutes. "The villain will be in his cell and we will escort you inside, of course. You won't really interact with each other, as he'll likely be deeply asleep."
"Asleep?"
"Yes. The apparent loss of his quirk has upset him greatly. He's barely spoken since we took him into custody, and he's spent the whole night in severe emotional distress. We would have transferred him to a hospital this morning if you hadn't agreed to help so promptly. As things stood, we simply had a doctor prescribe him a strong sedative. Hopefully he'll settle down spontaneously after you return his quirk."
The man's words weighed on Izuku's heart like a ton of bricks. Damn, that was… horrible. He'd been holding onto someone else's quirk for barely a day, and it had already caused that much sorrow. That wasn't how Izuku's power was supposed to be used. It would never be, as far as he was concerned.
"I'm sure he will." All Might commented, all traces of humour vanished from his demeanor. "Don't worry, kid. It'll be a matter of a minute."
Izuku nodded, and didn't speak again for the rest of the trip. When they reached their destination, he let All Might guide him towards the detention area of the complex while Tsukauchi wandered off somewhere else, probably taking care of the bureaucratic side of things. He reappeared relatively soon, and they entered one of the cells all together.
The cell was small and mostly barren, furnished with only the most essential goods and surfaces for a relatively short stay. Idly, Izuku wondered what systems they had in place to prevent a… slippery criminal such as the current occupant from escaping from toilets or sinks. Surely they were prepared to- he realized he was spacing out. He should just get on with it.
The villain was indeed sleeping, huddled in a small foldable bedding on the floor. Izuku had barely caught a glimpse of the man's human form the previous day, yet he was identical to how he'd envisioned him in his dreams. His subconscious was just that observant, apparently. It suddenly occurred to Izuku that he hadn't even asked for the man's name yet. The news broadcast hadn't reported- he was procrastinating again. Just do it, Izuku.
The boy glanced questioningly at the detective, who made a small gesture to indicate that he was free to proceed. He approached his assailant and crouched beside him. The villain's hand was sticking out from under the blanket, next to his head. Izuku rested his palm against the back of it, and simply willed the quirk out.
Just like that, it was done. Izuku stood up and stepped back as the man's body swiftly changed its texture and color, morphing and rearranging itself until a vaguely man-shaped, green heap of goo had replaced the slumbering human. The villain remained dead to the world throughout the entire process.
"...I'm done." Izuku whispered, quite redundantly. He peered back at the two men at the opposite side of the room, and he didn't miss the quick, sharp side-glance they'd just quietly exchanged.
"Thank you very much for your cooperation." Tsukauchi said with the utmost honesty once they were again in the hallway. "While you're here, would you mind if I collected your statement about the incident? It won't take long, we already have a clear picture of the situation thanks to All Might."
"Uh… Okay." Izuku had hoped, rather optimistically, to skip that part, but he had no reasonable excuse to refuse. Tsukauchi led them to an empty room a couple of corridors further ahead, and held the door open for them. All Might lingered on the threshold.
"May I sit in?" His question was aimed at Izuku for some reason, rather than at his friend.
"Of course!" Izuku confirmed, when both adults just stared at him in silence, clearly waiting for his permission. The hero thanked him with a small nod and an equally small smile.
They all sat around the desk in the middle of the room, Tsukauchi on one side, and Izuku and All Might on the other. It struck Izuku as a little strange, automatically expecting the two upholders of the law to face him side by side. He wondered if it may be a setup for some sort of good-cop-bad-cop routine. Not that either of them seemed especially suited to the latter role. Tsukauchi was very much the embodiment of professionalism, and All Might… All Might looked especially non-threatening in that moment, almost meek. He was sitting very tidily, big hands folded in his lap and long legs pressed against each other, occupying a remarkably small space considering the size of his frame. It made Izuku straighten his back and sit more neatly by reflex.
The questioning did proceed very smoothly at first. Tsukauchi let Izuku narrate his version of the events without interrupting at all, just humming and jotting down a few lines in his notepad now and then. All Might was just as unobtrusive, volunteering a sentence or two when Izuku happened to stumble on his words, or when he openly allowed him to recount the little scene on the rooftop, since the detective was already in on the big secret. Smooth sailing all round, until the point when Izuku had to bring up his quirk.
"On the subject of your quirk… when did it first manifest, exactly?" Tsukauchi asked.
"A little less than two years ago."
"Ah, you're quite the late bloomer! And you've only shared that fact with your friend Bakugo and your father, is that correct?"
"Yes."
"And your father is one... Hisashi Midoriya, right?" Tsukauchi fished out a sheet of paper from the folder he'd retrieved before beginning the interrogation. He slid it across the table so that the boy could read it.
"Yes." Izuku blinked, an undefined sense of unease gripping him all of a sudden. "...Why did you bother printing his personal details?"
"You've been filed as quirkless in the national registry after a routine medical examination when you were four years old. Your registration hasn't been updated since then, as far as I could ascertain." Tsukauchi explained calmly.
"Y-Yeah. I know."
"...That is a punishable offense, I'm afraid. An accurate quirk registration is mandatory for all citizens." Tsukauchi's expression softened when Izuku utterly failed to hide his dismay. "This has no consequence on you, as minors aren't expected to take care of these things by themselves, especially since quirk recording is often carried out when they're extremely young. Your mother bears no blame either if, as you say, she's as clueless about it as the rest of the world. But if your father knew and neglected to sort out the necessary paperwork for so long-"
"Oh." Oh. Oh crap. Izuku had never thought of that. Why on earth had he never thought of that? Why, in almost two years, had he never considered the legal implications of all that secrecy? Why hadn't his father? "Are you going to press charges against him?"
"Not yet. We're at least going to get in touch with him and hear him out before taking any further steps." The detective gave him a genuinely reassuring smile. "But even if we did, there is no cause for concern. These bureaucratic hitches are usually settled with a small fine."
"I-I see." Izuku gulped. He wasn't going to wait until May. He was going to call his father as soon as he was alone. This probably wasn't going to snowball into a lengthy legal conundrum, but still…
"What's his occupation? I'm reading 'administrative assistant' here, which is a bit generic…"
"I don't know much about that. He works for the government, I think, and he always says that all his activities are classified, so I try not to pry... Too much…"
"That is very judicious of you. I wish you could teach some of that tact to my sister…" Tsukauchi sighed, only half-jokingly. All Might let out a low chuckle at that. "Does your father know that you've been so reserved about your quirk so far?"
"Yes."
"And he didn't find it odd in the slightest?"
"...No."
"Why do you think that is?" Izuku was suddenly very aware of both adults observing him quite intently. He really didn't want to make things look any worse for his father. He could… slightly reframe the truth, maybe.
"I, uhm… Mine is a bit of a unique quirk. Difficult to use without, uh, stepping on other people's toes. And I've been quirkless for most of my life, and… it's no mystery that I envied other kids a lot because of that. I was worried that my schoolmates could be wary of me if they knew that I could… act on that envy now."
Tsukauchi hummed, twirling his pen slowly between his fingers. "I can understand your concern. But quirk counselling is specifically designed to help children cope with such issues, and you've been missing out on it because of this extreme discretion. Your father should have realized he was doing you more harm than good by letting these fears fester in your mind."
Izuku dropped his gaze on his father's profile sheet. Detective Tsukauchi had a point, but… the matter was more complicated than that, as well as intricately intertwined with his father's job and the troubled history of their quirk, and… Izuku didn't want to delve into any of that at the moment.
"We'll definitely schedule some counselling sessions for you in the future, I'm sure you'll find them beneficial." Tsukauchi hesitated. "...Did something catch your attention?"
Something did, in fact. Izuku was idly skimming through the content of his father's profile, and a couple of details were giving him pause. The first was, unsurprisingly, his father's listed quirk. Fire Breathing.
...nor do I have it printed in bold letters in my personal documents…
Yeah, Izuku wasn't going to bring that up. The other thing, a little more surprisingly, was his photo.
"Oh, it's nothing, just… I haven't seen any photos of my father in a long time."
"You haven't seen 'any photos' of him?" Tsukauchi cocked his head curiously.
"Yeah… I've never met him in person, he travels a lot because of his job and he never has enough time to stop by. I only know what he looks like because of an old photo my mother showed me. I haven't seen it in years too, so…"
"Only a single photo, uh? And this picture here doesn't strike you as familiar?"
Izuku observed it more closely... No, he was surely mistaken. "No no, there's… there's definitely a resemblance. Mine was a very old photo, taken before I was born. And it wasn't even a photo of him specifically, he just happened to be in it, at an odd angle and in the middle of a crowd… I'm sure this one is more accurate."
"Are you still in possession of that photo, by any chance?" All Might chimed in unexpectedly, his bright eyes narrowing slightly.
"Yes, I think so… Hang on, let me check." Izuku fetched his phone, opened the internet browser… Crap, it really had been a long time since he'd looked at the thing. Back then, he'd saved the file his mother had passed him on a free online storage site that… hopefully still existed? He hadn't used it in at least four years. Was his account still active? Could he even retrieve the credentials with his current email address? "Uh… Actually, I don't think I can get it right away. But I printed a copy of it once, it should be at home… somewhere…" Stashed in one of those boxes of old notebooks and magazines on top of his wardrobe, right? Or had it been thrown away when they had moved to their current apartment…? He fiddled with his phone with growing discomfort, acutely aware of the utter unhelpfulness of his babbling.
"We'd certainly be grateful if you could retrieve that photo for us, when you have a minute." All Might finally conceded, taking pity on Izuku's floundering.
"Sure! I'll try to find it as soon as I get home."
"Much obliged." Tsukauchi flipped quickly through his folder. Izuku was about to ask why the mention of that photo had sparked their interest so much, when Tsukauchi put Hisashi's file back into the folder and closed it with a snap. "Well, I think we've covered everything. Again, you've been immensely valuable to us, Midoriya."
Izuku let out a breath he hadn't noticed he was holding. All Might positively beamed at him and flashed him a thumbs up, which was its own, heart-warming reward. They all stood up and made to leave, when Izuku remembered he owed the two men a proper thanks.
"Ah, I really appreciate that you used your influence to… to get the papers off my back. It was… unreasonable of me to ask, but I really appreciate you humoring my hope for discretion anyway. I hope that it wasn't too much of an inconvenience."
Tsukauchi and All Might traded a puzzled glance.
"We did nothing of the sort, kid. What makes you-" All Might stopped, as if struck by a sudden thought. "Ah! You did mention it yesterday, didn't you? That you were expecting your friend to expose your quirk…"
"Yes. I… I imagine Kacchan told the journalists, and you took care of, uh, correcting his version?"
"No, no, there was no need to." All Might waved his hand dismissively. "Your friend didn't mention you at all. He was on the verge of fainting when you rushed in, he'd been strenuously fighting back against the villain for a while by that time. He was too exhausted to notice your intervention, and you bolted immediately afterwards. He never realized you were there."
Izuku's jaw dropped half-way open, but he shut it immediately with an audible click.
"...Ah." Kacchan hadn't realized. The bystanders hadn't realized. The police hadn't realized. All Might hadn't really realized. That meant that no one, no one, would know about his quirk right now… if he hadn't gone and spilled the beans about it himself. If he hadn't dumped an unnecessary confession to the number one hero out of sheer, emotional anxiety.
...Boy, that next phone call was going to be one for the ages.