Chapter 4


"Ne, Shouto! Take a look at this!"

"Ah, Onii-san! Father wants me to study!"

"So what? Study later. I wanna show you a cool trick."

"A cool trick? Um…"

"Don't worry, Shouto. He won't be back for a few hours, anyway."

"O-Okay. What is it?"

"Here, see? I can light my hand on fire!"

"Whoa! Doesn't that hurt?"

"Not at all!"

"That's amazing, Onii-san! How did you do that?"

"Ah, just a trick I learned from—ack! Ouch!"

"Ah, Onii-san!"

"What is going on in here? Shouto, why aren't you studying?"

"Ah… Father…"

"Don't blame him. He didn't do anything wrong."

"Don't speak to me with that tone. Get out of my sight!"

"Ack!"

"Onii-san!"

"Don't bother with him, Shouto. He's nothing like you and will never be at your level."

"B-But…"

"No more foolishness! Get back to studying!"

"Ah, no! Father, don't, that hurts! Father!

"Father!"

Shouto awoke with a small jolt, his entire body shuddering from the dream. Or a nightmare. Or maybe was it a memory?

He sighed and slowly sat up, noticing how his body shivering from sweat that had formed along his arms and neck. He had kicked the covers off of himself during the middle of his fit, he presumed. Perhaps that was why he felt like he had just been hit by a dump truck.

He rubbed the scar on the left side of his face, the skin feeling tender and itchy, and he reached for his phone.

His heart leaped when he saw that it was almost midnight.

Shouto remembered that he had gone home after Inasa spilled his piping hot coffee all over him, and Midoriya had to…

Shouto's cheeks flushed and he pressed his palm to his forehead.

He remembered the cold cloth to his chest, the burn cream, and the flush on Midoriya's face…

The distinct smell of strawberries.

Shouto held his breath in his chest as he shook his head, wanting nothing more than to forget those memories forever.

He glanced back down at his phone and noticed that there were nearly 20 missed calls and several unread texts—all from the same unknown number.

Hi, Todoroki! I got your number from Kirishima. I hope that's okay.

This is Midoirya, by the way.

Shouto's lip twitched. Even his texts were mumbly. He scrolled through a few more texts from his newly acquired partner and stopped at a text that he had received almost twelve hours ago.

We're still meeting at the precinct at noon, right? Did I get the time wrong?

Shouto's heart dropped straight into his gut.

Shit. He completely slept through his meeting with Midoriya.

He scrolled through several more texts—all frantically wondering where he was and if he was okay—before he decided to jump out of bed to throw on a pair of pants. He grabbed a hoodie and threw it over his simple white t-shirt and hurried to the front door of his apartment.

Sure, Midoriya was annoying. And he talked an awful lot.

But no one deserved the rudeness that he displayed today. How mortifying.

He swung open the door, ready to race down the hall towards the elevators, but he stopped dead in his tracks, the momentum nearly sending him toppling over and onto the person hunched over on the floor.

It was Midoriya. Still dressed in his uniform, the man was huddled next to Shouto's apartment door, his head leaned back against the wall, fast asleep.

Shouto stood stiff as a board, his mouth agape as he stared down at him. Did he even knock? How long had he been out here, anyway?

He took in a sharp breath through his teeth and let his door shut behind him softly. He knelt down next to Midoriya and peered down at him. His uniform was untidy, his tie crooked, and his hair was in more disarray than usual.

But the sweat and grime of the day didn't seem to drown out the delicious scent of strawberries hanging in the air.

Shouto sighed. Not the time.

He reached forward and gently shook Midoriya's shoulder. The man jerked slightly, his face scrunching up as a yawn escaped his lips. When his green eyes opened and looked up at Shouto, he took a moment to process, and then he sat up straight, his eyes blowing wide.

"Todoroki! You're okay!" Midoriya exclaimed.

Shouto's stomach squirmed with unease. The guilt was somehow eating away at him more than it usually did.

"Yeah. Sorry. It appears that I… slept all day," Shouto said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Midoriya's face twisted into bewilderment. "You've been sleeping this whole time?"

Shouto sighed. "I suppose I was very tired."

Midoriya blinked at him, his brows creasing in worry. He pushed himself up, using the wall for support, and Shouto mirrored the action.

"That… seems like more than just being tired, Todoroki," Midoriya said. "That's more like… exhaustion."

Shouto shrugged, not wanting to speak of it anymore. He looked at him, ready to change the subject.

"Anyway. I still want to regroup and go over what we know about the case," he said. He averted his eyes. "But we can do it tomorrow if you want."

Midoriya's eyes lit up with a new passion. "Actually!" he stuttered, and then he picked up his bag that was on the floor. "I have all of my notes with me right here! We can go over it now if you're feeling up to it."

There was a giddiness in his eyes that wasn't there before. Shouto's guilty conscious was already eating at the inner lining of his stomach. He didn't have it in him to turn him away.

Shouto relented with a sigh and opened his apartment door back up, nodding his head to encourage Midoriya to follow.

"Do you like tea?" Shouto asked.

Midoriya beamed.


"The manager of the nearby motel said that no cameras caught anything."

"Nothing? How can that be?"

"Don't know. The manager didn't really want to talk to me all that much."

"Tch. Probably decided to go cheap and he got poor cameras."

The two of them sipped their teas quietly at the small table in Shouto's dining room. Midoriya's notes were spread out on the table, neatly organized and labeled in file folders and notebooks. They were actually extremely helpful, giving Shouto insight that he hadn't thought of before. But, even though the notes were extensive, it still gave no leads on a suspect.

"Do you have anything else?" Shouto asked him, flipping through one of Midoriya's notebooks. "Or what about witnesses?"

Midoriya shook his head and took a sip of his tea. "Nope. No one saw anything. Not even Officer Nagata's partner."

Shouto sighed and rubbed his eyes. "That's disappointing."

"I know. It seems we're stuck for now until…" Midoriya paused, his face pulling into a wince.

Shouto already knew what he meant.

They would have to wait until the killer struck again.

"I really don't want to have to resort to waiting for another murder to happen," Shouto said.

"I don't, either," Midoriya said. "But… that's what they're all saying to do at the precinct."

Shouto leaned back in his chair and stared up at the ceiling, running a hand through his hair. What a mess this had turned out to be.

They sat in peaceful silence for a few moments. Out of the corner of his eye, Shouto could sense Midoriya's head moving back and forth in the room.

"I like your apartment. It's very you," Midoriya said.

Shouto twisted his lips, wondering what that meant. He gave a cursory glance around his apartment and then his eyes gazed back down at his tea.

"I didn't want anything fancy," Shouto said. "I had too much of that growing up."

He expected Midoriya to start jabbering immediately, but instead, his partner remained quiet and thoughtful for a moment. He held his tea close to his chest and stared at Shouto from across the table.

"I guess having the Chief of Police as your father has its perks," Midoriya said.

Shouto frowned, looking down at his cup of tea, still full. "That's one word for it."

Midoriya's frown was still on his face, but his brows scrunched up in concern. He placed his cup of tea on the table and rested his arms next to it.

"Do you… not get along with him?" Midoriya asked. Shouto looked up at him sharply, eyes a little wide, and Midoriya was quick to explain. "N-Not to judge or anything! I just noticed that your interactions with that guy at the diner seemed…"

Shouto held his breath in his chest. His stomach was churning too much for him to drink any more of his tea. It wasn't the greatest brew. His mother's tea was always the best…

He pushed those thoughts aside to focus on the man in front of him, noticing that green eyes were still peering at him curiously. Shouto supposed he owed him an explanation, especially since the scene at the diner made things… awkward.

Oh well. It wasn't like his old man was there to hear it.

"My father… always wanted to become Chief of Police. It was a dream for him," Shouto started, the story starting to make his limbs stiffen. Midoriya leaned forward in his seat, taking Shouto seriously. "He waited for that promotion for years, wanting nothing than to take over the system so he could do it his way. He worked his entire life to become the best. It became an obsession for him and it drove him mad."

Shouto risked a glance at Midoriya, taking in his wide eyes, and then immediately glanced away. He couldn't do it while looking at him.

"Anyway. He got to a point where he felt that he would never get the promotion, so he decided to try to groom his children for the position so his legacy could live on," Shouto said. "None of my siblings were good enough for what he wanted, though. So he got stuck with me. His last resort."

Midoriya flinched. "Last… resort?"

Shouto nodded. "I'm the youngest of four. My oldest brother had the most potential, but he was diagnosed with a disease, which made it difficult for him to be physically active. He always had a weak body, so… that didn't work out. My sister didn't have the physical capabilities, either. My other brother had potential, but his grades were poor."

Shouto paused and took a deep breath, looking down at his hands.

"So, he started training me instead."

"Stop crying and get up. You're not hurt."

"Your grades are lacking. No dinner until you've studied for all of your classes!"

"Don't you want to get into the police academy when you're old enough?! This is unacceptable!"

"Shouto! Don't become a failure!"

"You're my most prized and talented son!"

Shouto shivered and looked away, his shoulders hunching. He was getting locked into his own headspace again.

Midoriya's jaw opened and closed as if he wanted to say something but was unsure of the exact words he wanted to say. He cocked his head and paused to think for a moment, and then he looked to Shouto again with pain laced in his eyes.

"By training, do you mean… like running or cardio? Weights?" Midoriya asked.

Shouto shook his head. "Combat."

"C-Combat?" Midoriya echoed, and when Shouto nodded, he swallowed thickly. "How… How old were you when you started?"

Shouto's stomach nearly bottomed out. "Five."

"F-Five?!" Midoriya yelled. After Shouto nodded in affirmation, Midoriya sat back against his chair, rubbing his cheek. "Did your mom approve of that?"

"No, don't! He's just a child! You shouldn't be treating him this way!"

Shouto inhaled sharply. He shook his head and reached up to touch his face, his fingers gently touching the scar on his cheek.

"No. She didn't," Shouto said softly. "She… tried everything she could to protect me. But if she got in the way of his training, then she would get his wrath, too."

Midoriya's brows creased, his lips parting slightly. His hands that rested on the table curled into fists.

Shouto moved his hand to touch the scar more, his hand covering it. "She finally lost it one day, driven to madness, and she poured boiling water on my face."

Midoriya's eyes shined suddenly, and his lips wobbled just a bit. He reached out his hand but stopped, hovering it in the space between them.

"Todoroki…" Midoriya called sadly. "I… I don't—"

"Calling any units in the east block area. There are reports of a disturbance at a factory, over."

Midoriya's radio on his shoulder interrupted him, and the crackle of the machine caused them both to jump. He scrambled for the radio, giving Shouto a quick glance, and then pressed the button on the side to speak.

"Officer Midoriya is in the east block area. What is the status, over?" Midoriya asked.

"Officer Midoriya. A nearby resident heard gunshots and an explosion. There's the possibility of a fire."

Midoriya's eyes snapped up to meet Shouto's, and Shouto nodded in response. They were both thinking the same thing.

Fire. The killer's signature weapon.

The killer could be there. This was their chance.

"Officer Todoroki and I are on it," Midoriya said to the radio.

Shouto stood up from the table and hurried to his bedroom to grab his uniform.


There were no other officers on the scene when they arrived—only a single fire truck. Smoke was billowing up into the sky, and Shouto could see specks of orange flames trying to eat away at the roof. Their adrenaline was pumping as they slid to a stop near the front doors of the factory, watching as firefighters hurried to put out the fire from the outside.

Shouto glanced at Midoriya and nodded towards the doors, ready to run in, but a fireman quickly stopped them.

"Sorry, boys, but this is too dangerous," the firefighter said.

"We were called to investigate," Midoriya tried to explain. "There's a possibility that this was no accident."

"Well, you're going to have to wait until we put out the fire," the fireman responded. "There's already been one explosion."

"But there could be a murderer inside!" Shouto yelled, pointing to the door.

"Sorry. This factory has highly flammable materials inside. It's not safe for anyone to be near it," the firefighter said. "Now step back. It's safer to be as far away as possible."

He pushed the two of them back behind the lines and then returned to directing his fellow firemen to aim their hoses to the rooftop.

Shouto felt his hands curl into fists by his sides. "We have to get in there."

Midoriya startled next to him. "Huh?! Didn't you hear what he said? We can't go in there!"

Shouto glanced to Midoriya and then back to the building. If he could catch the criminal now then he could gain the title of Detective in no time at all.

He wanted to best his father and beat him to the punch. That way, he could proudly and truthfully say that he did it all without his father's help.

"Fine. You stay here," Shouto said.

He took off towards the door.

"W-What?! Wait a minute! Where are you going?!" Midoriya called after.

But Shouto ignored him and ran past the same firefighter, who also shouted for him to stop, and he went right inside the hot factory.

He coughed and lifted up his arm to block the smoke and he quickly reached for his small flashlight on his hip. He turned it on and quickly maneuvered around the large expanse of the factory, avoiding the flames that were quickly eating up the walls.

Damn it, Shouto thought as he shifted through the debris that had fallen from the roof. It was so hard to see.

Suddenly, he heard a shuffling next to him, and then he felt a hand on his shoulder.

Shouto whipped his hand back, ready to strike whoever decided to put their hands on him, but the person behind him quickly caught them by their elbow, lifting up their other hand.

"Todoroki! It's me!"

Shouto blinked through the smoke and lifted up his flashlight, shining it right into Midoriya's face.

"Midoriya," Shouto called, lowering his light.

Midoriya coughed and released Shouto's arm. "Are you crazy?! This place could go up in flames at any minute!"

"We have to find this killer!" Shouto explained desperately. He had to find him and arrest him before his old man could get his paws on him.

"I know you want to catch this guy, but you're acting insane!" Midoriya yelled. "Does this have anything to do with your father?"

Shouto recoiled as if he'd been struck. "What?"

"Your father," Midoriya started, taking a moment to cough. "Are you trying to prove a point to him?"

Shouto's brows furrowed. Sweat beaded on his neck as the flames got closer.

"I…" Shouto stuttered.

"You don't need to, Todoroki!" Midoriya said. "You're not him! So you have nothing to prove! You're already great as it is!"

Shouto's breath hitched, smoke going right into his lungs. "Midoriya…"

"We can finish this talk later. But for now, can we please leave?" Midoriya asked, tugging on his sleeve.

Shouto bit the inside of his cheek and looked around the burning building. He sighed and nodded, feeling a little defeated.

"Okay," he said. His eyes traveled towards the door. "Let's go before—"

Suddenly, a black shape moved out of the corner of his eye, grabbing ahold of his attention. He scrambled for his gun on his hip and drew it, pointing towards the corner of the room.

"Freeze!" Shouto yelled.

"H-Huh?" Midoriya yelped, also reaching for his gun. "I-Is that him?!"

"I don't know. But who else would be in here?" Shouto asked. "Come quietly and we won't shoot! Keep your hands up!"

The figure was still in the corner, moving slowly towards them.

Shouto stood straight, still feeling the heat licking at his skin. He reached for his cuffs on his hip, but the heat from the room had made the metal unbearably hot. He yelped and dropped them straight to the floor.

The figure suddenly shifted, using the noise as a distraction, and he kicked over a barrel right into a pool of flames.

Shouto's eyes widened. "What the—"

"Todoroki, get down!"

Midoriya pushed Shouto's chest back and lifted up his arms to try to shield them both.

The barrel exploded right in front of them, the force flinging Midoriya's body right into Shouto's chest. It knocked the wind right out of him as they both tumbled backward into the wall and fell to the ground.

For a few moments, Shouto's vision went black around the edges, but it quickly cleared as he sat up and felt his head.

"Damn it," he muttered, looking around. The room was swaying slightly, still bright by the flames, but there were no signs of that figure who had just tried to kill them. "Damn it…"

Shouto sighed and glanced around gently so the room wouldn't spin.

His eyes stopped to the body next to him, his breath catching in his throat.

Midoriya was lying motionless beside him, his right hand a bloody, shrapnel-filled mess.

"Midoriya," Shouto called, hurrying to his side. "Hey, Midoriya. Wake up!"

He held his head and leaned down, putting his ear to his mouth. Shouto breathed a soft sigh in relief when he heard strained puffs of air coming from Midoriya's mouth. He shook his head and carefully lifted Midoriya up in his arms.

"Hang on, Midoriya! We're getting out of here!" he said. He glanced around one last time for the killer and cursed, hurrying towards the exit. "Damn it. Why didn't I listen to you?"

He rushed them out of the burning factory and nearly collapsed to the ground in front of the few firefighters that were on the scene.

"Please help, he's hurt and unconscious," Shouto told them, and was he slurring his words?

Blurry figures of men in white shirts quickly took Midoriya from him, and as soon as the weight was gone from his arms, he fell to the ground, his vision still spinning and spinning. But nothing felt worse than the guilt that was eating his stomach alive.

How could he have let this happen? Had he learned nothing at all?

Midoriya was wrong.

He was no better than his father.

When another man came over to help him sit up, he immediately threw up.

And there went his second clean uniform.


Shouto sat in the hallway on a bench, just down the hall from the intensive care unit. His head was less fuzzy than it had been when he had first arrived. He supposed the IV that was attached to him on a portable cart was helping.

He sighed, remembering the angry nurses and doctors that were insisting that he stay the night for evaluation, but he refused. He only had a minor concussion. He's had those before and he didn't need a hospital to treat it. Besides, he was too restless and… uneasy to just sit in a bed.

Shouto swallowed as he gazed down at the needle taped to his hand.

"I'll be okay, Shouto. Really."

It was all too familiar, making his stomach flutter uncomfortably. He sighed and hunched over, trying to quell the nausea and dizziness that still persisted.

Hospitals… always made him feel uneasy.

He tried to focus on the sounds of the hospital—the pattering of feet, the soft whispers of the nurses, the crying baby down the hall…

Ugh, when would this torture be done with?

"Ah, Todoroki-san?"

Shouto jolted and straightened his back, a wave of dizziness crashing over him.

"Ah, be careful, be careful!" the woman said, gently grabbing ahold of his shoulder to steady him. "We really should keep you overnight."

"I'm fine," Shouto said, rubbing his head. He blinked up at her and finally noticed her scrubs. "How's Midoriya?"

The woman smiled and gestured down the hall. "You can see him now. His surgery went very well."

Shouto swallowed. "Surgery?" he asked as he stood up.

The woman nodded as she slowly led him towards the hospital rooms just down the hall.

"Yes. The explosion sent several small pieces of shrapnel through his hand and wrist, and it ended up breaking a lot of his bones," she explained. "But the surgery was a success! And with the medicine we give him, he'll be able to recover in just a few weeks."

A few weeks? Shouto wondered. Midoriya would have to lay low for that long? He won't like that one bit.

Shouto sighed and hung his head, the guilt eating away at him once again. Everything he touched seemed to turn to ruin.

"Here we go," the woman said, sliding open a door. "You can stay as long as you like. Just make sure you let him rest, okay?"

Shouto nodded and entered inside, allowing the woman to slide the door shut behind him. When he faced the room, his back stiffened.

Midoriya was lying on the hospital bed, still out cold, and his right hand was in a thick cast that went all the way up to his elbow. There were some cuts on his face and arms from the explosion, but other than that, he seemed okay.

Shouto wanted to feel relief from it, but the feeling never came.

He pulled his IV cart with him as he sat down in the chair next to Midoriya's bed.

"You're not him! You're already great as it is!"

He sighed and slumped forward, feeling his eyes prick with tears.

"I'm sorry, Midoriya," Shouto apologized softly. "I should have listened to you. I shouldn't have jumped in without thinking. I put both of our lives in danger."

He gripped his knees with shaking hands and hung his head shamefully. He felt like he was going to puke again.

"And now you're hurt because of me," Shouto added. He closed his eyes and closed in on himself again. "I'm so sorry. This is all my fault."

"Are you… done apologizing yet?"

Shouto flinched and raised his head, eyes wide as he stared back at a pair of dim green eyes and a lopsided smile.

"Midoriya," Shouto called. "You're awake. Should I get a doctor?"

Midoriya shook his head. "I'm okay. The pain meds are working great!"

Shouto swallowed and creased his brows. "How can you smile at a time like this?"

Midoriya looked at him. "Old habits, I guess. My stepfather was a great influence, I suppose."

Shouto hesitated, not wanting to pry into any of… whatever that was. He simply sat back in his chair and bowed his head.

"Midoriya, I'm still really sorry for—"

"If you apologize again, I'm going to punch you."

Shouto flinched again, his eyes snapping up to meet Midoriya's sharp gaze.

"Were you an idiot for running into a burning building with explosive materials inside? Yes," Midoriya said bluntly. "But your actions… They weren't all in vain."

Shouto blinked at him, eyes wide. "What… do you mean?"

Midoriya glanced around the room, his eyes studying for something, and then they cleared when he gazed in the corner.

"There. Check the pocket of my uniform," Midoriya said, nodding towards his pants hanging on the rack.

Shouto quirked a brow and stood up from his chair, hobbling slowly towards his pants. He stuck his hand inside and grabbed a tissue paper. Disgusted, he glanced at Midoriya for confirmation. Midoriya nodded and gestured for him to pull it out, so Shouto did and opened it carefully.

Inside the wadded up tissue was what looked like a surgical staple.

"A… staple?" Shouto asked.

Midoriya smiled knowingly. "Yep. I found it just outside the doorway to the factory before I chased after you." Shouto gazed down at the staple, turning it over in the tissue. "I'm surprised I caught it! But the fire must've reflected off of it and the shine caught my eye."

Shouto blinked at him, quirking a brow. "So… What does this mean exactly? Why is this so important?"

Midoriya huffed out a small bit of laughter and then immediately regretted it as his bruised body protested. He coughed a bit and used his good hand to point at the baggie.

"Look closer. See anything on that staple?" Midoriya asked.

Shouto blinked and then peered down at the staple again. On its pointy edges was a rust color, dark and red. Almost like…

"Blood?" Shouto asked, whipping his head back to Midoriya, who smiled in return.

"Not just any blood," Midoriya said. "This blood could belong to our killer."