A story to remind me that this is a hobby rather than an obligation. Especially after how the Patrangers were treated in-series, I thought it would be fun to put the focus on them and the police aspect of BNHA. I was surprised to see that I couldn't select Lupinranger vs. Patranger as the world under the super sentai category, but oh well.
While certainly not unknown to crime – the advent of Quirks meaning none could claim such an honour – Musutafu was a relatively peaceful city. While some may claim it was because there was little worth taking villainous action for there, it was undeniable that compared to its neighbours, Musutafu enjoyed a healthy absence from ne'er do wells. Even then, with a few burgeoning names in the pro hero scene establishing themselves and a surprisingly competent police force, those few who decided to test their luck often ended up falling short. Indeed, unlike the frequent chaos that affected over cities and prefectures, Musutafu maintained itself well.
Regardless, outliers existed in every corner of society and Musutafu was no different. Take, for example, the haggard figure in the alleyway grasping the remains of a broken bottle, snarling at the young man who dared tend to his daughter's wounds before him. Though the moon remained low in the sky, the entertainment district's location on the other side of the city meant that few were present to see the blood that dripped from the shattered glass, the deafening silence bringing a flush of confidence to its wielder's face.
"Look… no need to make this – this difficult." The figure slurred, a voice still wet from whatever alcohol came cheapest at the nearby store. With the sheer amount of liquid flooding his body, it was honestly a miracle that he restrained himself to a single burp mid-sentence. "All I need is the cash you promised, and we can call it a day! What do you think?"
"I-I'm telling you, I don't have the money!" came the stuttered retort, a silent yelp of fear escaping the father when the chill of the bricks behind him spread across his back. As much as he wished otherwise, the truth could not be avoided; he might have been able to make an escape under the right circumstances, but could the same be said for his daughter? Of course not. One wrong decision and it wouldn't only be the pathway that came to a dead end. "Besides, I still have a month on our agreement, r-right? You, you said I had four months to make the repayment!"
"You ain't wrong." Met with such a blunt admission, the father nearly fell over himself in surprise. Thank goodness he didn't though, for it would've made the incoming swing far more difficult to avoid. As it was, the stinging across his cheek made it clear just how fortunate he was that their attacker was inhibited by his drunkenness. "Problem is, I know your type. Talk big and then run at the last minute, that's what you lot love to do! Nowhere to run now though, is there? Won't ever be 'til I get my cash back, you understand?"
Absolute bull. There could be no better term for what spilt out of the haggard figure's mouth, and both men knew that full well. Whether the father was able to do anything about it, however, was a completely different story. Without a quirk nor any sign of nearby assistance, the odds couldn't have been more visible, the father left with little opportunity beyond hugging his daughter closer. Such was why when the haggard figure let out a roar of pain as the glass in his hand exploded, the two victims could do nothing but gape without sound.
"Now, now, isn't this a rather dreary scene?" a youthful voice mused from above, no small amount of amusement dripping from their tone as they blew the smoke from a golden barrel. Naturally, with the haggard figure too busy screaming in agony as he cradled his shredded hand, no response came, eliciting a tut from the latest arrival. "Extortion and assault, child assault at that. I never thought my first impression of Japan would be so… substantial."
"…Hang about, you ain't no pro!" the haggard figure eventually managed to scream between gritted teeth, eyes threatening to burn a hole through the silhouette upon the rooftops. When his cry did nothing but draw out a slow clap from them, that anger only festered. "The hell do you think you are, huh? Don't you recognise this face? The Court ain't exactly going to side with a vigilante like you over someone like me!"
No verbal answer came. In fact, before the haggard figure even realised, there wasn't even a silhouette. Blinking owlishly, the man swivelled his head around like a mad man, but the shadows of the night meant that any sign of the mysterious defender had been erased without a trace. Only the sound of a light switching on managed to signal their new position, the haggard figure whirling round to be met by an outlandish sight.
Like a spotlight upon the stage, a random house's security light cut through the darkness, the shine bringing an ethereal sparkle to a silver suit. An incredibly elaborate pattern had been embroidered onto the fabric, the white shirt underneath carefully dusted off as the illuminated individual turned around with a tip of a top hat. Paired with a silver birdlike domino mask to complete the image, the figure let a smirk appear as gloved fingers gave a flick, the haggard figure left frozen as a crimson card dug into the wall just beside his ear.
"Oh, no need to worry, Mister. I'm already quite familiar with your background," they replied. "Itsuki Asahi, known for his charming smile, successful software business… as well as working in underground auctions, selling off stolen artefacts for exorbitant prices and trying to gouge out even more after the event. Yes, I'm sure the courts will be perfectly happy to cooperate with you when they receive so much juicy gossip. As for me…"
The father's subtle escape attempt was paused when the weapon wielded by their saviour was revealed, the harsh glare of the security light making sure that every contour of the steam-engine shaped barrel was visible. It was hardly the most outlandish armament he had come across, not with how so many pro heroes realised too late that their childish designs from school would remain iconic to them far beyond graduation. The second train attached to it, however, moulded in a completely different style and pointing in the wrong direction, certainly made it a contender. It took a hand reaching out to twist the barrels round before it began to make any sense, a flamboyant voice piercing the air.
X-NISE!
KAITO X-CHANGE!
"…Consider yourself lucky, Mister. You'll be the first to witness the return of the solitary, sterling phantom thief-"
LUPIN-X!
"So, consider this my warning. I'll be taking everything you have!"
"Why," said he, "why should I retain a definite form and feature? Why not avoid the danger of a personality that is ever the same? My actions will serve to identify me."
Then he added, with a touch of pride:
"So much the better if no one can ever say with absolute certainty: There is Arsène Lupin! The essential point is that the public may be able to refer to my work and say, without fear of mistake: Arsène Lupin did that!"
Izuku couldn't quite tell what it was about those words that first drew his attention. Perhaps it was the thought that someone without a quirk could prove so capable, even if it was for nefarious purposes. Perhaps it was the allure of being able to live as someone else, someone who would not be as disparaged as the person known as Izuku Midoriya. Perhaps it was the overwhelming confidence that dripped from the character's words which drew his envy. All were perfectly reasonable options. Whatever it was that compelled him, it had compelled him with all its might.
While Izuku had managed to put a fair number of books under his belt – for there was little that could… disturb him under the librarian's stern supervision – none had ever held the same allure as the book containing those lines did. In fact, Izuku didn't even pause for a single moment until he was flicking through the final pages, such was the depth of his immersion. Thus, when a rough hand suddenly wrenched the book from his hand, Izuku couldn't help but lash out for it.
"Ooh, okay. Looks like Deku has some fight in him!" as soon as Izuku heard that taunting statement, his hands froze mid-movement. When had they managed to surround him? When had so many managed to surround him? Being a group formed of some of the rowdiest Aldera Junior High had to offer, stealth wasn't exactly their forte. "What, did having that hag watching over you make you think you stood a chance against us? Give me a break."
Whatever reply Izuku could've formulated was smothered when the hardback met his face, a muffled cry escaping as Izuku was thrown backwards. With the force that his head smashed against the floor, there was no way a quirk wasn't involved. It wasn't enough to cause major damage, thank god, but it was more than capable of leaving Izuku reeling as a swarm of silhouettes huddled around him.
"Hey Katsuki, you sure Mrs Shikibu isn't going to run in on us?" one of them muttered.
"That Hag won't be back for the rest of the day." Came the reply, laced with a viciousness Izuku had long since become acquainted with. "Something about making her own book or whatever. We can take all the time we want."
"…Why?" Izuku hated how much effort it took to force those words out. It had been one hit. Sure, it had been enhanced by a quirk – probably Hayate's wind seeing as Katsuki's explosion would've made way more of a mess – but it was still only one strike. In a world where people could be punched through several buildings without a scratch, being downed by a book to the face was nought but humiliating. Thanks to the cruel hand of fate, however, there was woefully little Izuku could do to defend himself.
"Why? You start spouting off nonsense in class and you're asking why?" Katsuki replied, a firm foot to the leaving Izuku without breath. "Deku, you can't even take a book back without crying and you think you can be a hero? Don't kid yourself! You can't even hurt a damn fly! Anyone you try and save might as well just walk up to the villain!"
"Quirkless people aren't even allowed in the hero schools. You couldn't become a hero if you tried!" Another eagerly taunted, a sort of snivelling laughter escaping his lips. For someone whose quirk was essentially having long fingers the amount of confidence he held was astounding. How Izuku wished for the day he could actually utter such thoughts. "The best you could be is a crappy vigilante in the middle of nowhere."
"Aren't vigilantes illegal though?" Another voiced. "They're lawbreakers, one step away from being villains!"
It was a stupid comparison. Beyond both being frowned upon by the government, vigilantes and genuine villains couldn't be any more different. Anybody could've told you that much. For a child though, where being a hero meant everything? Logic was thrown out of the window. Any connection to being a villain, no matter how tenuous, was something to be reviled. Izuku and his peers were no exception.
"Guess that means we've got to make sure Izuku doesn't go down the wrong path." Yet another chimed in, the fleshy spikes upon his knuckles growing and contracting with a malicious vigour.
With those words, Izuku's fate was sealed. Without the barrier that was authority to protect him, there was no stopping the incoming attacks. Curling up into a ball managed to mitigate the damage somewhat, yet that didn't do anything to reduce the effect of the assailants' quirks. It didn't take long before Izuku's entire body was marred with bruises, only his face and hands remaining untouched lest a few inquisitive teachers take notice. Even so, the viciousness of an unrestrained child was not to be dismissed. That which could be struck was struck with debilitating might, might which should not have been possible for a group as young as Izuku's assaulters were it not for some inventive quirk use.
If he wasn't still jarred from his head hitting the floor, then Izuku would've put up some sort of resistance. After all, were his passion for heroism so easily crushed, then Izuku wouldn't have dared to try and be one without a quirk.
Even so, the rationale behind their words could not be ignored. In a world of superpowered heroes and villains, those who stepped out of line risked not only their own lives, but the lives of those who had to rescue them. Recklessly throwing yourself into situations you aren't prepared for could mean death, and when you didn't have a quirk of your own? You aren't prepared for much. That much made sense, even if the justifications Katsuki and his gang gave for their bullying didn't.
Such was why Izuku remained silent as the boys continued their torment, the kicks and punches only ending once Katsuki threw his arm up. Whether it was out of boredom or some instinct that their jobs were complete, Izuku wasn't certain. Nor, quite frankly, did Izuku care. At that moment, anything beyond trying to escape the pain didn't matter.
"Remember this, Deku. Remember how defenceless you are." Katsuki's words came as a snarled whisper, yet they might as well have been blades to Izuku's ears. "Remember how useless you would've been if we were villains. Anyone you were trying to save would be dead. You would be dead. A weakling like you won't even cut it in the police force, so quit while you're ahead. Let's go."
With one final strike in the form of throwing Izuku's book on his beaten body, Katsuki began to walk away. Eager to remain on his good side, the rest of his posse soon scampered after. It might have taken a beating to get there, but peace finally returned to the library. If only Izuku had the strength to appreciate it.
As he was, however, even moving an arm proved to be an ordeal. That Izuku was able to reach for his book was a miracle in and of itself. Painfully drawing it into view, Izuku was helpless as his tears blurred the title he had yet to see. Such was the final sight burned into his mind before his consciousness eventually gave out.
That meant Izuku wasn't aware of an aged door's creaking as it filled the air, nor of the slender arms that reached out to adjust his position into something more comfortable. Not even the scanning from binoculars of inhuman construction was able to stir him.
"Hmm… perhaps a little scrawnier than I expected. Even then, more baby fat than muscle. Average intelligence, fragile as anything… but passionate. Passionate is good. We can work with passionate…" the intruder muttered, her hand reaching out to gently stroke Izuku's cheek. "With your disposition, you'll make a fine partner for La Vitesse Du Son. Well, maybe once we get your body in better shape at the very least."
"Hey! How did you get in here?"
The dull thud of books hitting the ground soon put a stop to those musings, however, the intruder quick to throw her hands up before turning towards the teacher staring at her. A charming visage could only achieve so much though, for the caution in the teacher's face had yet to fade. Considering the heavily injured young child at her feet, it was more than justified. That didn't stop a small tut passing the intruder's lips before she reached behind her back.
"What can I say? In-tru-der window." She retorted, cocking her head towards the open glass. That the security locks preventing it from being opened more than halfway, let alone wide enough for a human to fit through, were unbroken went unspoken. It was almost enough to distract the teacher from the shining badge that was being pushed in front of her. "No need to worry though. Well, maybe that's not exactly true. The name's Léa Takao, member of the Global Special Police Organisation's French Branch. I was just passing through the area when I managed to catch a glimpse of something through your window. Imagine my surprise when it turned out to be a boy, heavily injured and abandoned. Seeing that this is a school, I thought it would be best to initiate my own investigation – I hope you don't mind."
"Globa-? No, no, of course not!" The teacher was quick to assure, the books at his feet completely forgotten as they scrambled to call for further assistance. What else was he to do – ignore the woman? For sure, the fact that she had entered the school building like a thief was something to be condemned, but the badge she held could not be faked. No matter how eccentric their officers were, the authority that the GSPO held was undeniable; Léa's innocence was more than evident. Ignoring her orders would be tantamount to facilitating whatever brutal acts had resulted in Izuku's current condition. While perhaps some of the teacher's… 'colleagues' (and he used the term in the loosest manner possible) may have been willing to do so, he certainly wasn't so callous.
Even so, it wasn't as if he was in control of the actions of others. Caught off guard, the teacher had gathered anyone nearby at the time and the brief glimpses of disdain in some of the other teacher's eyes could not be restrained. Momentary as they were, anyone less attentive might've missed it – how else would they have managed to retain the jobs that they did?
As for Léa? She couldn't have ignored them if she tried.
Still, there was a time and a place to act. Proper procedure existed for a reason after all. First, establish the extent of the child's injuries. Then, figure out their cause. If it was what Léa expected it to be, then those troublesome kinds of people wouldn't have a leg to stand on anyway.
"Now then, let's see what we're working with…"
Super hero time! See you next time!
