The drive to the police station was filled with endless chatter between the pair. Percy had answered most of Izuku's questions readily, and suffice it to say, Izuku had a lot of questions.

He – well, Percy didn't speak much of his part in the 'Second Titanomachy', but the young god was a veritable treasure trove of information about the early quirk era, and even had a few snippets of knowledge to impart on even earlier histories, now lost to time.

The information he had on the emergence of quirks was invaluable, though some of it made Izuku sick to his stomach.

The emergence of quirks was not a happy or fun time, Percy's memories revealed. From genocides and human experiments that Percy skimmed over as he absent-mindedly drove through the grey and damp city, he made it seem that not a single government was innocent during the chaos of the Quirk Riots.

He wasn't really sure he was old enough to be learning about, well, any of this, but Percy seemed to think so. It's not like Izuku hasn't been searching up and reading on global history and maybe a few conspiracies since he could use the computer, either. He'll trust in Percy's judgement on this.

Eventually, their conversation died down as the rain picked up again. Percy huffed as it did, grumbling to himself as the sky darkened. Within mere minutes, lightning began to flash across the dark, suddenly cloudy sky intermittently, closer and louder than it had any right to be.

Percy whispered to himself sharply, "Oh, fuck off, old man." Izuku didn't think he was supposed to hear that.

They didn't say anything else, instead sitting in the silence together, listening to the pitter-patter of the rain on the roof of the car and watching the city lights reflecting brilliantly on the streets as they drove past.

Izuku – he had never liked silence.

It was dangerous. When Kacchan was quiet, when dad was quiet, when teachers or classmates were quiet, it was nothing but the calm before the storm. Silence was a warning.

With Percy, though, it was different. Silence was nothing but silence. It was just a short lull in their conversation; it held no promises of pain, no hidden tidings of any rising anger. Not even a full day of knowing each other, and Izuku was certain that Percy would never purposefully hurt him. The older man - well, god - was already acting like… like what Izuku had always wished his own father would act like.

Someone who would reassure him and help him follow his dreams. Someone he could trust. Someone he could rely on.

If he was being honest, Izuku still had a sliver of fear spiking through his heart that he'd wake up from this dream, back at Dagobah in the dreary, cold morning rain. Sat on a pile of trash, knowing that was all he was obliged to, going insane and imagining a release that didn't exist.

He's jolted from his irrational fears as Percy pulls into a parking lot, slowing down and parking haphazardly in a corner.

Opening his door, he said, "Well, kiddo, we're here." Stepping out, he lets the rain drench him, shutting the car door quickly.

Izuku unfastened his seatbelt and stepped out of the car as well, looking up at the Musutafu Police Station through the water already streaming down his face.

It was a massive building, beige and brown and unassuming. The entrance led to a small and bustling hall, filled with many clusters of hard metal seats, every single one occupied by civilians.

Locking the car, Percy places a hand over Izuku's shoulder, hovering like he's not sure he should.

"Okay. Technically, I think you're a missing child, so there's a possibility you'll be interrogated for a bit. Nothing too major – just a few questions about your whereabouts, they're not gonna handcuff you or anything." He says, ruffling Izuku's hair softly instead.

"We'll go in, I'll talk a bit, we'll see what happens. I'm not exactly too caught up on laws or anything these days, but we'll walk out with you as legally adopted by me, alright?"

Izuku nods, and Percy smiled, his lips gently upturned and his eyes bright even under the cover of darkness.

Izuku almost laughs; he can tell that Percy's very excited.

They walk through the glass doors together. No one spares them even a glance, all too consumed in their own worries and responsibilities.

A man rushes in behind them, muttering a greeting. "Hell of a rainy day we've been having, eh? Three times today?" he says, before quickly slipping into the throngs.

Sighing softly and looking at the crowded room, Percy tilts his head.

"You know, police stations weren't this crowded back in my day." He comments quietly.

"Well," Izuku begins, "Heroes were created to deal with the rise in organized crime, but the rise of heroes and hero society led to a decline in police funding, and a rise in petty crime. Heroes can't be everywhere, constantly on call – there just aren't enough, it's too exclusive. Musutafu's police are privately funded, though. They actually manage to deal with most cases the heroes can't." he mutters quietly, leaning into Percy's hand on his shoulder as they walk through the room.

"Cause' of that, police in other cities are pretty underworked and corrupt, but in Musutafu, they're overworked." He gestures to the crowd around them, mostly people coming in to report small crimes that the heroes can't – or don't want to – deal with.

Thankfully, Mustafu's P.D will probably be able to deal with everyone in the room. Eventually. Once they get through their near-constant backlog.

Percy shakes his head. "That's stupid." He sighed again. "Never thinking in the long term. Mortals are always so short-sighted, giving up what's good for them at every turn." He lamented, seemingly to himself.

They stood in the crowd themselves for a few moments. Percy got a lot of odd looks, but Izuku couldn't really blame them. He had debated on telling the young god, but it was kind of funny.

Everyone else had at least tried to dry themselves off when they entered, but Percy was walking around dripping wet and drenched to the bone, not noticing.

Looking at the milling crowd around them, Percy leaned down to whisper in Izuku's ear, water dripping into Izuku's hair. "You think anyone would mind if I pushed us up the line a bit?"

Curious as to what Percy would do, Izuku shook his head. Smiling, Percy straightened, before raising his hand and snapping his fingers.

The sound should have been drowned out by the chatter of the crowd and the bustle of the workers all around them, but it echoed in the room, and loudly. No one other than Izuku seemed to notice it though, until Percy speaks to one of the receptionists all the way across the room, his voice taking on an apologetic tone.

"I'm afraid we're your next clients, sorry."

The man the receptionist was already speaking to backed away quickly, returning to the front of the line without any protest. The receptionist motioned for them to come forwards, and they make their way through the room without anyone looking at them twice. It's almost like they don't exist anymore; that specific receptionist's line is completely halted, but not a person in it cares at all.

Izuku won't lie – that power was absolutely terrifying.

Like, incredibly terrifying.

He shook his head; Percy wouldn't use it for anything bad, would he?

Reaching the receptionist's desk, Izuku examined the room closer. The receptionist is behind a long, wooden desk that they shared with the others. Behind her, it seemed that the police station proper opened up, through a pair of large wooden double-doors. Leaning on the table nonchalantly, Percy said, "Alright, so I'm here to report a missing child that's been found?"

Nodding, the receptionists gaze flicks over to Izuku, tilting her head slightly.

"Name?" she asks.

Clearing his throat, Izuku says, "Midoriya Izuku."

Clacking away at her keyboard, she looks up, her eyebrows scrunched up, and shakes her head.

"I'm afraid no child under that name has been declared as missing. Uhm, why do you-"

Izuku's stomach sank slightly, but honestly, what did he expect? For his own father to report the kid he kicked out as missing? Besides, it's really only been a few days, and it's the middle of summer anyways.

Percy groaned softly, rubbing a hand across his face. His other hand raised and waved through the air lazily, shimmering and wispy mist suddenly flowing off his skin. "Let's just skip all this, hm?" he said, pulling his hand off his face and looking the receptionist in the eyes.

The receptionist's eyes go glossy for a moment, before she shakes her head rapidly.

"Of course, you'd like to finalize the adoption of Midoriya Izuku? You should've gone to the correct authorities, but we can finish it here, no worries." She says brightly, a stark contrast to her previous professional and stern customer voice.

Izuku blinks. He's like, ninety-two percent sure adoptions don't go through the police, but what does he know?

And, did Percy have to do that again? He's not sure he likes it.

He wondered if Percy would stop if he asked, or if that would be going too far, taking too much and giving too little? After all, he is a god; Izuku doesn't think he'd be too keen on having a child take away his powers.

As Percy nodded his head gladly, the doors behind her slammed open and cut her off abruptly. Over the desk, Izuku could see a man in a drab trench coat stomp out, his eyes furious. Despite himself, Izuku took a step back.

He was tall, well-built, and otherwise completely unremarkable, if it weren't for the anger coating his features. Wearing a beige trench coat straight out of the eighties and a fedora, he's got a hand grasping something in his coat pocket, and he's heading in a bee-line straight for them.

Seeming to calm down as he reaches the desk, he motioned at Percy over the desk. "You." He said, his voice calm despite his flurried exterior. Around them, Izuku can see people begin to turn and watch the conversation. "If you could join me in my office, please?" he offered, pointing a very accusatory finger at Percy. Izuku's – well, Izuku's confused. He's been confused for a few hours, though, so he took it in stride. Is this someone who knows who Percy is?

Percy, for his part, hid his face behind a hand and muffled a soft sound suspiciously like laughter, before nodding rapidly. The man turned, walking to open an unnoticed door across the room as he stepped away from the receptionist's desk. Keeping his distance, he gestured for them to follow him. Izuku noted that his eyes never left Percy.

Looking at each other, Percy with bright eyes full of laughter and Izuku with a confused gaze, they followed him through long and convoluted tunnels.

Who knew the police station was this big?

Eventually, they came across a glossy wooden door no different from the dozens they'd already passed. The man opened it for them, backing away and waiting for them to enter.

The office they entered was large and spacious, dominated by a large maple desk with documents and papers scattered across it. The walls are covered by awards, and one wall has a corkboard covered with what seem to be active cases. It was certainly a nice place, Izuku decided; the man is important in the police station, and he's got the feel of a detective. So far, he'd only followed him because Percy was and he trusted Percy, but he had a strange feeling about the man.

He was proven right when the door locked behind them, leaving them alone in the room with the man. Percy stepped in front of him protectively without any hesitation, surprising Izuku. He could just see as the detective drew a long… stick from his coat.

Pointing it at the god, he commanded, "Get away from the kid."

It was a stick.

What the hell was even going on in Izuku's life anymore?

Percy chuckled softly, the beginnings of a deep gut-laugh poking through before being smashed down immediately. "I'm not gonna hurt him, I swear."

Narrowing his eyes, the man continued jabbing his stick menacingly in their direction. "Forgive me if I don't exactly trust you – it's obvious you're not human, and my quirk doesn't work on monsters."

Behind Percy, Izuku recoils in shock. How did he know? And how dare he call Percy a monster? His fists balled up and he prepared himself to speak, but Percy got there first.

"Calm yourself, detective. Yes, I'm not human, but I think you can trust me, yeah?" Shaking his head in mirth, Percy continued, "Ah, magicians. So feisty."

The detective's grip on his stick tightened, his knuckles white across the wood. Izuku can tell that whatever the hell was going on in this conversation, he's definitely not comfortable with it. He even seemed… scared, almost.

Tapping Percy in the small of his back, he grabbed the attention of the young god. Percy turned to look at him, his eyes wide and frantic and strangely terrified. Unsure of what to do with that reaction, Izuku stumbled forwards nonetheless, "He, uh, he looks kind of scared? If he knows what you are, shouldn't you – I don't know, explain?"

The detective's stick almost fell out of his grasp and his jaw opened for a moment, before snapping shut. Percy took a moment to compose himself before turning back to the man with a half-ashen face. He looked contemplative for a moment, studying the other man's face. The calm expression almost seemed forced, though. As the detective rapidly moved forward, it fell just as quickly. Percy backed up, pushing Izuku further behind him until Izuku was practically sitting upon the desk, sending papers flying into the air.

"I don't know what the hell you've done to this kid, but it's not gonna stand." He said suddenly, his eyes sharp and distrusting below the rim of his hat.

Percy raised his palms in front of himself, in surrender. "Egyptian magician, member of the Two Hundred and Thirty-Fourth Nome. I'm of the Greek mythos, so you have nothing to worry about." he spewed rapidly. Izuku barely understood half of it.

The detective blinked, and his stick lowered for a second. Based on what Percy's said, he's beginning to think the stick's a wand, and the detective's… a magician?

God (Gods?), Izuku needed some sleep. It's been far too much for one day. The detective lowers the wand, still pointed towards them but more open to conversation this time. Percy didn't move away from his position in front of Izuku, though.

"Who are you? How did you know all that?" he asked, his eyes shadowed by his massive hat.

"Well, first of all, my name's Perseus, and I'm a Greek god," Percy said, a laugh building in his throat. It died quickly, though, as the detective's wand dropped to the floor with a heavy thump. His gaze stayed on Percy for a split second, before he turned to run, slamming into the door before remembering it was locked. He ruffled his pockets, panicking and searching for his key.

Percy's shoulders slumped, a soft sigh escaping his lips as the man opened his mouth - to call for backup, it seemed.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he said, spreading his arms. Still jamming the key into the door, the man turned slowly, still panicked and scared.

"I swear, we have such bad reputations nowadays," Percy complained, pulling three nearby armchairs towards him with a flick of his hand. He motioned for Izuku to sit in one and the young boy did, getting comfortable quickly. Despite the tense atmosphere, he could definitely fall asleep here – he's been awake for way too long. He wondered if Percy would mind if he did; the chairs were actually kind of comfortable, considering he's been sleeping on concrete for the past few days.

Slowly, the detective sat down on the edge of another seat, twitchy and fearful.

Percy narrowed his eyes. "I'm not going to hurt you." he repeated, more forcefully this time.

Gulping, the man nodded.

"What's your name?" Percy asked after a moment of silence, reclining back in the chair.

Taking a deep breath, the detective said, "Tsukauchi Naomasa – sir, I am so, so sorry that I insulted you, and that I ran! It was an error on my part from fear, and I hope you can forgive me!" His hands are laced in the air in front of him, and his head is bowed.

Percy looked at him, his eyes roving his pleading form contemplatively. "Tell me, Naomasa, what do you know of the Greek gods, that you'd be this scared?"

Looking up, the man gulped again. His eyes flicked between all corners of the room and Izuku watched, morbidly entertained. He thinks – no, he knows that Percy wouldn't hurt him. Almost as if he can tell what he's thinking, Percy's gaze landed on Izuku and he gave him a sad yet reassuring smile.

The detective spoke haltingly, "Well, my lord, I – I used to have a friend in the Seventy-First Nome, who accidentally insulted a Greek god and died. As well as that, I had sensed you to be a powerful being, but I had not expected you to be," he gulped, "a god." Despite his fear, Izuku thinks that he's managed to explain pretty well, although he himself is a bit more scared of his heritage now.

A Greek god killed someone for an insult? He wondered, had Percy ever done anything like that?

Could he bring himself to stay with the young god if he had?

Percy hummed. "Well, you're mostly correct," Tsukauchi flinched, "but I'm telling you, I am not that kind of god. Also, I'd like to know which god – perhaps you can tell me, later." Percy tilted his head, appraising the detective. "Pretty brave of you to take on a 'powerful being' all on your own, though." he paraphrased. "I haven't kept up with the Nomes in the past few years; who are you?"

Sitting up straight and proud, he replied haughtily, "I'm the director of the Japanese Nome."

Izuku nods to himself; that does sound like a high-up position.

"Interesting," Percy says, "and which god's path do you follow?"

Some of his previous bravado having slowly leaked back into him, Tsukauchi scoffed. "I follow the old ways." he said, pride evident in his tone.

Percy laughed again suddenly, the sound filling the room for many seconds. Wiping his eyes, he says, "Ah, I remember when following the path of the gods was the new way for the Egyptian side of the family. I wonder what the Kane's are up to – I should visit soon." He reminisced, staring up at the ceiling. Lazily, Izuku poked him out of his memories - he had the feeling he'd be doing that a lot.

Startling, Percy sits up and says, "Yes! Oh, right! Uh – help me adopt this kid!"

Tsukauchi blinked, returning to the façade of a normal detective instead of the fear-filled or the menacing magician.

"Come again?"

"You heard me the first time," Percy said, leaning forward and placing his hands under his chin.

"Um, well, I – what? You – you are a god, right?" he said, his eyes flicking between the two. They stay on Izuku for a few moments, but he can't bring himself to care - he's too busy resisting the urge to yawn.

"Yes. My name is Perseus, and I am the god of heroes, loyalty, et cetera, and I would very much appreciate it if you could help me out here."

The detective jolted up, and Izuku leaned back. It seems like he's going to help; that's good. Percy was pretty persuasive, anyways. He closed his eyes, giving into their heaviness and shifted to get more comfortable in the plush armchair/

When he opened his eyes again, he was swaddled in blankets on a massive bed. Through bleary eyes, he recognized it as his room in his house.

Groaning softly, he turned to the other side and promptly fell back asleep.


Miles away, a young god walked up to Camp Half-Blood for the first time in a decade. Even longer. He didn't really know it, anymore – all he knew is that the camp wasn't how he remembered it. Not at all.

He wondered if Chiron missed him.