A/N : I don't own the rights to MHA or anything of that sort. We've been over this for decades now.

June 10th
1600 hours

Midoriya Izuku wasn't exactly what you would call an old and wizened hero. An argument could be made for popular—quite a big and important argument could be made for popular, considering he was the current number one hero on the Japanese Billboard Charts—but popularity was more of a curse than it was a blessing, especially these days.

Case in point: he wasn't what anyone would call old and wizened, but he had a certain element of street smarts around this one particular thing. That thing was All for One, and years of the chase had forced Izuku to grow and learn. They had forced Izuku to grow up. And this—this growing up he had to do early on, all of this, was why he knew . He knew that this case was tied to All for One, as much as it didn't seem overtly nefarious to anyone else (it was always nefarious, because people disappearing en masse couldn't be anything but nefarious), but people disappearing was usually tied to human trafficking—in this case, particularly for underground fighting rings, since most of the trafficked were young and had powerful Quirks—and not evil overlords.

And to add the cherry on top of the entire bullshit milkshake, there was his thousand times cursed popularity.

"You're far too high profile for this case, Atlas."

And wasn't that something too, hearing that phrase with that name. Far too high profile, for a man that was meant to hold up the sky. Ha. He found suddenly that he couldn't help but think of Bakugou and his jealousy, his stream of serious questions that Izuku would never answer, a constant query about where exactly Izuku's Quirk came from open in his mind. Bakugou had been doing his best to ask since Izuku ran from him the first time, had chewed on the one single clue Izuku had given him after their battle trials so much it was probably just mush, and yet Izuku evaded him as he had evaded him since he was fifteen and a little too familiar with the way his bones felt when they'd been crunched by his own Quirk—

"There has to be something I can do," he said instead, scrubbing a hand across the top of his head and subsequently aggravating the curls that resided there into a terrible frizz. "I mean, isn't that the whole point of being popular? You get access to more cases, right?"

"Sorry, Atlas, but you have to understand." His agent was a brisk woman with a sharp tongue, and she always had been. It was why Izuku had hired Suzuki in the first place. "Even if we were able to add you on despite the fact that the investigators are trying to keep a low profile, the case is full. They aren't looking for any more heroes to add onto the investigation, and throwing your weight around isn't going to cause them to change their mind about that. Besides, and no offense here, Atlas, but most pros aren't willing to work with you, since you're so, ah, particular about how things are done."

Izuku grimaced. All for One was slippery and time had made him desperate, which was a rabbit hole that had led Izuku to a somewhat dark place, career-wise. He was number one, and he was the young Symbol of Peace just like he'd promised All Might he would be, but he had one goal and that one goal had never changed since back then, since he was a teenager watching titans battle on the television screen in his room, his arms still aching from his most recent training session. He remembered the feeling of a victory that was half-won at best, Shigaraki defeated but AFO on the run. He knew what this probably meant for him, before All Might ever asked him to meet on the beach, before anything.

"Besides," Suzuki continued, inadvertently interrupting Izuku's inner turmoil. "Creati is a very competent hero, Atlas. You shouldn't worry about the fate of the case—as long as it's in her hands, it will be solved."

"Creati?" Izuku asked, perking up. "Creati is the one in charge of the case?"

Something about Izuku's expression must have caused Suzuki to doubt herself, because she double checked one of the papers on her clipboard and then adjusted her glasses. "Yes, Creati is in charge. Is that important in some way?"

Izuku paused, studying the lines of Suzuki's face and her stern bun, weighing the outcomes of every word he could say in this instance, of the value the truth held and in what hands. Suzuki already didn't understand—she was his agent, not his friend, and even if she was his friend the secret of his Quirk was something that only he and Toshinori (and Toshinori's old colleagues) knew—and telling her what he planned to do…well, she would probably try to stop him. Most people would, honestly.

"I suppose not," he said, drumming his fingers softly against the desk. "I just respect her a lot as a hero, that's all. If it's in her hands, well, then I'm sure it'll turn out just fine."

Suzuki dithered, pristinely manicured nails tapping out a rhythm on the back of her clipboard. She apparently decided to move on, though, because move on she did. "Right. It's as I said, Creati is incredibly competent. In any case, there was an offer that came in from another underwear company that is willing to sponsor you in exchange for product modeling, I assume it'll be a no like the others, but you know procedure, I just have to run it by you anyway—"

Izuku nodded along as Suzuki continued her report, drumming his fingers against the desk. Creati, huh? Well, didn't that work out.

Izuku put his chin on his other hand and thought. It was a stretch, a far stretch, but he'd been in the same class as Yaoyorozu Momo once, even if it was only for a few months, and their most meaningful interaction had been him shaking at her side after the class leadership elections, before he handed the position off to Iida as quickly as he possibly could. Maybe, just maybe…there was a chance that he would be able to worm his way onto the investigation, if he wormed his way on through her instead…

Well, here's to that boyish charm I supposedly have , Izuku thought, as he made plans to send Yaoyorozu a message as soon as Suzuki was gone.

June 10th
1900 hours

It had been a long day for Yaoyorozu Momo. Filling out paperwork, poring through old dusty files to chase down leads on behalf of her sidekick, arguing with her agent over her continued "glam" image in the media (an unfortunate holdover from her Uwabami modelling days), and after all that, getting dumped with a dead end missing persons case by her Police liaison on reaching the precinct was just bitter icing on the cake. If all that wasn't enough, she was out of her favourite protein bars, and far too tired to go and grab a few from the premium outlets.

It was disturbing how quickly Heroics had become yet another job. A thankless one at that. To be sure, it was the core of heroics to be selfless, to put someone else's well being in front of your own. That feeling of moral superiority soon wore away when washed with the drudge of everyday bureaucracy.

A sorry state of affairs, to grimace at casualties of an operation, not because they got injured... or worse... under your watch, but because each casualty meant yet another report to be filled out. Still, she was done for the day. She wouldn't be needed unless the world was ending.. and if that was indeed the case, she would severely scold the world for its horrendous timing.

Then her phone rang.

She was half-resolved to simply ignore whatever it was—she was off the clock, and there were literally hundreds of heroes who could pick up the slack, just this once. Unfortunately for her, her heroic instinct won over her reluctance, and with a grimace, she flicked the device to life.

In the dark of the room, a familiar name flashed on the bright screen : Midoriya.

Whatever did the Number One want with her?

'Can we talk?' the message simply said. Innocuous yet ominous.

Her thumb danced swiftly across the screen as she answered, 'Sure. Call? Or do you wish to text?' She hesitated just a minute at her presumptuousness, but finally hit 'Send'. It was a bit unprofessional on both their parts, but the normally unflappable Number One seemed to be in a bit of an urgency, to have bypassed their respective agents and approached her directly.

Her phone tolled once more, beckoning her out of her thoughts.

'Too risky. Can you meet me at the Teppanyaki near your agency? I have a favour to ask.'

Well. Now that complicated matters.

Sighing, Momo stretched and slowly walked over to the window, frowning at the flashing of thunder across the night sky. It was going to rain soon. It would be easy...and well within her bounds to refuse this. The Number One was being cagey about the whole thing, and a part of her wondered if this was some elaborate way to date her. It sadly wouldn't be the first time.

She discarded the thought as easily as it had intruded. While she might not know Midoriya that well, or at all, but from what she had gleaned of his personality from interviews and passing meetings, he was a focused individual. Such frivolity was beneath him.

Guessing would get her nowhere. The choices before her were balanced on a knife's edge. She could accept, and be mired in whatever had gotten even the top ranked hero riled up... or she could refuse, let this opportunity pass her by, and forever spend her life in curiosity and regret. When put like that, it truly was no choice at all.

Momo teetered over the knife's edge and chose to fall.

'Be there in fifteen. Don't be late.' she answered, and manacled her decision. No backing out now.

Steeling herself, she grabbed her raincoat and stepped outside, locking the door behind her, remembering to pocket the keys. To fill the empty moments with banal routine, she gave her appearance one quick check in the elevator's mirror. Tired eyes gazed at her out the mirror, and she turned her back on her accusing reflection.

After what felt like minutes, the elevator doors opened, and Momo hurried out into the street. The rumbling clouds were her companion, and the first drops of rain greeted her just moments before she reached her destination. It was with relief that she ducked inside the bright, welcoming door.

She had a few misgivings about being recognized and mobbed by fans, but her worries were unfounded. The restaurant was quiet and catered to a more eclectic clientele, and the heavy rains had taken care of the rest. While the greeter at the door recognized her, he had the courtesy to not react much more than a slight widening of the eyes. It seemed as if he had expected her coming, as he took her coat, and led her to a quiet, private booth that had been reserved and laid out with a pitcher and a couple of glasses.

She took a seat facing the door, poured herself a cup of cold barley tea, and waited.

He came in from the gloom and the dark, looking dishevelled and uncertain as he stepped into the light. His steps were slow and measured and his shoulders were hunched, his head weighed down.

This was the Number One Hero? Momo was used to the monolith that was Atlas, personable and charismatic, standing atop all other heroes with irrepressible good cheer and always going above and beyond what was asked of him. Out of costume, Midoriya was in a simple beige raincoat over his dark salaryman suit, as if determined to fade into the background. What was more shocking however, was how he seemed almost worn down. His tired eyes looked around him, wary of his surroundings, and his haggard bearing spoke of long days and very short nights. it was easy to see that he truly lived up to his name, holding up the world and weary of its toll.

Then he looked up at her and smiled, and his eyes lit up with genuine warmth and enthusiasm.

Ah...well, Momo could understand the appeal now.

Perhaps she had judged him too harshly and hurriedly. It wasn't like she was any better off, all things considered.

"Sorry, hope I didn't keep you waiting." he said breathlessly, sliding heavily into the booth in front of her, "The traffic's a bit heavy, what with the All Might Fête..."

Right, that was today. She had almost forgotten. The festival had sprung up shortly after the Kamino debacle, perhaps to raise morale, perhaps to distract people from HPSC's growing incompetence. Was it a credit or a black mark against the Legend, that the charade was successful? She never could decide.

Shelving away her thoughts for later, she poured out an extra cup for the number one, and focused on what he was saying.

"-I know it's a bit out of the blue, but I really need this, Creati." he all but demanded, his gaze steady if a bit frazzled. Was that nervousness as well?

She furrowed her brows and leaned forward, a growing unease in her gut, "And what exactly are you asking of me?"

"Your new case... the missing persons one. I want in."

The unease returned, and brought its friends to roost. Something was not right about this.

She leaned back, crossing her arms in front of her. "Why? Something like this is too low profile for you." And for herself as well, she thought but left unsaid. "It's a simple enough case. Both the disappearances are of teenagers, with supposedly 'heroic' quirks, who went missing around the big hero festival. They've most likely just run away with delusions of grandeur. I'm sure we'll find them within a few days, scrounging for shelter behind a dumpster terrified and in way over their heads."

She knew this from prior experience, and it wasn't hard to see the pattern repeat itself once more. What she hadn't expected was Midoriya's sharp look and exasperated exhale.

"Is that what you truly see, Creati? Couple of kids with big dreams, who overstepped their limits?" He paused to collect himself, "We all were those kids once. I think they deserve your consideration more than your scorn."

She narrowed her eyes at his judgement, unwilling to admit how deep the sharp scalpel of his words had cut. "If you have something to say, or some lead to offer, do so, Midoriya."

He matched her gaze for a long moment, unwilling to back down, before he acquiesced and began to rifle through his custom shoulder pack, lifting a worn, beaten notebook in triumph. Slamming it down in front of her, he began flipping through the pages. Ignoring the bright grinning All Might on the cover, she instead focused her attention on the contents of it, which Midoriya had painstakingly compiled, judging by the mess of scribbles, edits and article cutouts from newspapers.

"On the 8th of June, three years ago, three teenagers from Ferushia City disappeared while coming home from school. Were registered officially missing two days later. All three were hero school aspirants, and had applied for UA. They haven't been found, even after all this time." She caught a glimpse of toothy grins and hopeful faces, before the dry pages closed on them, burying their memory once more. Midoriya wasn't done yet, however.

"7th of June, two years ago...one adult from Hosu, and on the 8th of June, two children, aged seven and eight from Endol. Once again, all three had notable quirks, and once again, their cases went unsolved. It happened again last year, with over five potential disappearances. And nine this year." he finished, looking more troubled than she had ever seen him.

One thing he said didn't add up though. "Nine? I just have two reports!"

Midoriya chuckled bitterly, "Four were quirkless, taken from a quirkless shelter...so they don't matter, of course. Two were from the police force, so they would go unreported or their files would be misplaced just long enough for them to be declared 'presumed dead'...and the last one...well, let's just say HPSC would voluntarily resign rather than admit to anything related to that poor man."

His next words were a dirge to her composure, and she couldn't help but gasp.

"It's been ten days since his last check-in with his handlers. If he had been killed, someone…some villain…surely would have taken credit for it. Gleefully."

He closed his eyes, turning away from the truth that his lips uttered.

"As things are, I am afraid that Hawks is among the missing too."

16th June
2030 hours

Izuku left his meeting with Yaoyorozu with heavy shoulders. He ducked his head and relaxed his expression, not quite blending in with the crowd today but not necessarily drawing attention to himself either. There would have been a time, years ago, when Izuku would have been on the streets celebrating along with everyone else, wearing All Might themed clothes instead of roaming the streets in a sleek but simple suit.

The suit, though it would usually seem an odd choice for someone attempting to blend in with the crowd, was intentional. People associated suits with having somewhere to be, whether they realized it or not, which meant, in the event that he did get recognized, people were far less likely to approach him for autographs. Besides, it was good business to dress nice when asking favors from coworkers, even if Izuku did miss his days of jeans and cheekily labeled T-shirts sometimes.

Izuku dodged a street vendor calling out to him. They were everywhere, with the celebration going on, trying to sell food and trinkets in All Might's likeness. With age and time on his side, he could recognize it wasn't a meaningful use of his money or his time to stop and look, but some part of Izuku would always be a fanboy, and that part quietly yearned to stop at the different booths to peruse the vendors' wares.

Izuku decided to appease his All Might desires by calling the man himself—there were a lot of reasons for this, in truth, the least of which being the festival he was wading through. First and foremost, Izuku needed to wish his mentor a happy birthday, and, secondly, he needed to talk to him about the things that he'd discussed with Yaoyorozu earlier, too.

Yagi picked up on the second ring with a cough but a lift to his voice that made it clear to Izuku he was grinning despite it, even if he couldn't see him. " My boy. And here I was, thinking you'd forgotten about an old man like me."

"Forgotten? Never," Izuku said, feigning a short little gasp as he did. He smiled too, adjusting the strap of his bag as he walked. "I don't think my fourteen-year-old fanboy self would ever let me forget about you, especially not today. Happy birthday, by the way."

"That much is most likely true," Yagi agreed, pleasant and amiable. " And thank you, my boy. I've been wondering what you've been up to today. Normally you stop in to see me."

"Ah," Izuku said. He sighed immediately afterwards, combing his fingers through his hair to smooth some strands back over to the correct side of his head where they'd gotten a little tousled. "Some things came up, Yagi. I'm sorry. I did send flowers to you in advance, though, just to say happy birthday."

"Naomasa brought them in ," Yagi said, his voice quiet and fond in that way it always was when he talked about Tsukauchi Naomasa. Izuku was happy for him, sincerely, even if it did mean he felt a little bit lonesome sometimes himself.

"I'm glad to hear it. Are you enjoying your birthday?"

"I certainly have no complaints, my boy. But you called for a reason, so, you might as well get to it. No need to chat about these trivial things first."

Izuku sighed again. "Yeah, alright. Well, it's about that case."

"The disappearances you think are connected to All for One?"

"That's the one," Izuku said. He bit his lip for a moment as he mulled over what to say. "They have Creati heading the case. Ridiculous, honestly, considering her skill level and how unimportant the Hero Public Safety Commission believes this case is, but it worked in my favor, I suppose."

"Did it?"

"Well, we might not have gone to school together for long, but went, we did," Izuku said. "Plus I've seen her around often enough at other things, events and awards shows, that I think it helped my case when I met with her to ask about joining today."

"Ah, so she agreed?"

"She did."

Here there was a pause, short but heavy, and then Yagi asked the question that Izuku knew he was going to ask. "…Does she have any inkling of what the case is really about?"

"No," Izuku said. "She doesn't. It's not information I can just go…dumping on everyone I meet, Yagi. You know that."

"I know. But if she's heading the case, things could turn dangerous for her as well. "

Izuku bit his lip again, not really believing the words he was saying himself. He knew what a threat All for One was. If he could take down Hawks…Creati wasn't really a match for him. She was undeniably skilled, but she wasn't a match for him . "Creati will be able to handle herself, I'm sure of it," he said. "And I'll be there, now. I can oversee things a bit, pull some strings if strings must be pulled, you know the deal."

"I do. " Yagi was silent for another moment. "I still regret that I ended up dumping all of these problems of mine on your shoulders, my boy. It was never meant to be this way."

Izuku rubbed at his jaw, itching at a bit of the stubble growing there. "There's no need to apologize for that," he eventually said. "Heroes have to fight, anyway. I've accepted that. Besides, I have a good feeling about this one. It feels like I'm getting close to the end game, Yagi. I'm so close I can taste it, and at the end of this fight, at the end of this battle, I'm pretty sure All for One will be mine."

"I certainly hope so," Yagi agreed, his voice somber and quiet in the same way that it often was these days. "It's gone on long enough as it is."

Izuku could certainly agree on that point, at least. "No, really," he said. "I have him cornered, here, I feel it. This is going to be the one."

"You say that every time, my boy."

"And if I continue to say it every time, then one day it'll be true," Izuku said, grinning cheekily even though Yagi wasn't around to see it.

Yagi laughed, a dry chuckle compared to the boom it once was. "Such confidence, young Izuku. You've grown so much, you know."

"Thank you," Izuku said, sobering up a bit as he did. "It's hard to believe sometimes…ah, well. Things worked themselves out in the end, I suppose." They lapsed into mutual silence after that, comfortable, in that way silences often were amongst comrades and equals.

"I really do mean it," Izuku said at the end of the silence. "I'm going to get him this time."

"I believe you, my boy," Yagi said, his voice heavy and sincere. "If anyone is going to get him, it is going to be you."

A/N : Welcome to this little Noir/Detective style story. It's written with help of and in collaboration with JoWithTheFlow, originally posted in AOOO. Hope you enjoy your time with it, and please leave a review if you liked it.