Last time: Kirishima reaches out to Bakugou in face of Izuku's unknown status, meanwhile at the hospital, waking up from surgery, Izuku confesses a deep-seated hatred for quirks in his conversation with All Might.
"I'm sure you've thought about it; I have this feeling only quirkless people ever do but…" Young Midoriya is laying down on the bed, raised the tiniest bit so that he can look Toshinori in the face, not that he does. He's pale, and his brow is crinkled in pain, his voice soft but steady. "What is the worth of a quirk, All Might? Is it worth a life? A dream? What would we live like if no one could do anything extraordinary?"
"That would depend on the person."
"Imagine that… I wish I was born before," the teen confesses, "in a world that didn't think you needed to be special to be worth it. Where we keep making more and more rules to name an ever-shrinking amount the 'best few.'" He looks directly at Toshinori as he speaks; his freckles are dark against swallowed skin, almost translucent in its paleness. It's hard to see Young Midoriya in the ghost that sleeps on this bed. He almost died. It's that thought that makes Toshinori face him now; Young Midoriya almost died. "I once read that if everyone's special, then no one is, but that's not true, is it? Human beings will always find a way to separate a few from the rest. It's like we cannot live as a society without stepping on the weaker man."
"That's why heroes work so hard to protect innocents. They lead by example to create a better society, bring people hope," it's an idea he hadn't come up with, rather one he had inherited from his own teacher, one Toshinori thought Young Midoriya shared with him.
"Heroes are the exact example of everything that's wrong with quirk society," Young Midoriya denies, shaking his head lightly. He doesn't look angry, more tired than anything. Uncomfortable, but if it's because of the pain or his words, Toshinori cannot tell. "Glorifying and vilifying a person's innate ability instead of their character. There're many better heroes than those in the top ten, but you will never hear of them because their quirks are not good enough. Meanwhile, Endeavor is the number one hero."
"Todoroki…" Toshinori prepares himself to defend. Todoroki has flaws, like everyone, but he is not - at heart - an evil man. He looks at the boy lying on the bed. Such a thought brings forth the question: is Young Midoriya evil at heart? Toshinori considered it, of course he did, that maybe Young Midoriya was misguided, tricked… he wouldn't be the first child who slipped into the wrong side of the law for trusting the wrong person.
"Isn't an exception," the other cuts him off, something burning in his eyes. Resentment, which Toshinori profoundly regrets, "...just a very public example. You can't tell me you agree with it, the way people are cast into heroes and villains for their quirks, like Shinso or... or Kacchan." Toshinori is surprised that the childish nickname escapes Young Midoriya's mouth so carefully. Maybe it shouldn't matter when he has never called Young Bakugou anything else. "My lack of quirk left me living on the fringes of society; it literally made me a villain when there was nowhere else to go. Acquiring a quirk threw me into constant danger and pain; it made me a hero. All this time… All this time I just wanted someone to see me. Why is… why is that so hard?!" he gasps out, a cuff ranking as a hand lands short of easing the pain in his chest wound. Toshinori throws out a glance to the door's window, but neither guard has even turned around. He waits for the wave of the villain's pain to subside, counting his failure a little in each wracking breath his former student takes. How has he failed so spectacularly?
At inspiring a young man. At teaching. At choosing a successor. At seeing Young Midoriya.
"I don't know, Young Midoriya," he admits to the both of them, but one thing remains steadfast in his heart and cannot go unsaid: "but it does not excuse the things you've done."
"I've never claimed that," the scoff he grants is mild-mannered, pained, barely a whoosh of air escaping in between his bared teeth, "I've done terrible things."
"Then, why?" It all comes down to that, doesn't it? Toshinori regrets the question as soon as he voices it. He's kept himself from asking all this time, scared that the reason is himself.
"So have you," the phrase sinks down into his bones.
"Is this about telling you that you could not be a hero?" follows next, because Toshinori was not raised to be a coward.
"Partly but no," the young boy dismisses, "but we should definitely talk about Shimura Tenko sometime."
"How did you…"
"But then again, so has Kacchan." Now, lost in his mumblings, he reminds Toshinori of the sweet child who he'd trained more than ever. The image is tinted by the wistful embrace of the words, pacing tinged in desperation. "He used to bully me, did you know? Things have certainly changed since I got a quirk. I wonder what would've really happened between us if I hadn't inherited One For All." He lets his head hit the pillow from where it's been steadily rising with his rambling. "You know what's messed up?" He stops minutely as if waiting for an answer. "I'm glad I have a quirk, if only because it finally, finally put me on even ground with Kacchan."
"You're never going to tell me why."
"...Aizawa sensei has also done terrible things. If you're following… All Might, everyone's done them. Especially heroes."
"A Hero must sometimes make hard decisions," it's not even a genuine comment, a PR phrase he has uttered so many times Toshinori's not even sure what it's supposed to mean even when it's his entire career summed up in a couple of words. It sets Young Midoriya off in unexpected ways. The first real human reaction Toshinori has seen in him, nothing of the controlled rebel he sells himself as. All spitfire and none of the impulse-control.
For the first time in his life, Young Midoriya yells at All Might.
"Are you listening to yourself?! What do you think I've been doing?! At what point did any of this look easy to you? Do you think I'm happy that I know you wish you'd never granted me a quirk? I've looked up to you my entire life. Do you think I'm a villain because of money? Fame? Murder? Fun?" He grimaces, biting down on his lip, but Toshinori's form does not move. He sneaks a glance at Midoriya's bandages, half-covered by the hospital blanket. They still look clean, but his outburst had valiantly pulled on the stitching if the pure agony on Midoriya's expression is to be discerned. "... There's no other way," he whispers, and if he's trying to convince Toshinori or himself, the former hero cannot confidently say.
"For what?"
"Doesn't matter now, does it?" Young Midoriya shakes his cuffs meaningfully. "Just ask. We both know why you're here, and it's not because you're worried about me. If anything, me dying would tie up several knots now that All For One is behind bars."
"Young Midoriya," All Might's voice is as close to begging as it's ever been, a humiliating thing but one worth it all the same, "would you please return One For All to me?" Despite prompting him into asking, Young Midoriya's eyes go wide.
"To you?!"
"Yes."
"I thought Mirio-senpai would get it," he murmurs, leaning further back into bed, green eyes disappearing behind the shutters of his eyes.
"You said it yourself," Toshinori replies, "now that All for One won't see the light of day, One for All has no purpose."
"You cannot take it with that body; it'll kill you."
"..." The former number one hero has nothing to say to that, and so he doesn't.
"Definitely not, then," green eyes burn fierce in defiance.
"Would you pass it on to Young Mirio then?"
"...No."
"Young Midoriya, I might be asking, but truthfully, your eventual release depends on this. As I'm sure you're aware, we will not release One For All to a villain. Think of it as a second chance." Here, Toshinori's prep indicates dangling Young Bakugou's continued affections, but Toshinori had known from the second he'd heard so that no such thing would come out of his mouth. His students had suffered enough as it is. "The police are willing to cut you a deal; it would be your only chance for a clean record." He does add the following, if only because he believes it to be true: "I'm sure that there are people in your life who want you back." At his earnest words, Young Midoriya looks withdrawn and pensive, Toshinori wonders. He knows why Young Midoriya turned himself in; will that be enough?
"Sometimes, I think you ruined me." Even though his words fester inside Toshinori, they are uttered without any anger or mischief. "What I told you back at the prison? Do you remember? What drove me to the brink wasn't that everyone who knew me thought me a traitor, that I had just given up on ever being a hero or a member of society, that I had betrayed my teacher, my family, my friends, my boyfriend... it was that I couldn't feel One For All coursing through my veins, that's the first thing to drive me off the edge." He closes his hands, blunt nails burying into scarred palms. "You feel it, I have no doubt. The emptiness, the crushing weight of impotence."
"I do not," Toshinori denies, but Young Midoriya only smiles bitterly, eyes poison green as he laughs mirthlessly.
"I guess that's what healthy self-esteem will do to you. I never had any of that, you see."
"I thought you were happy," Toshinori murmurs. He's unsure why of all the things he's wanted to say to Young Midoriya, this is the one that slips out.
"So did I," he whispers, almost to himself, "but I've learned that you can't have everything. Some things, some things are more important than being happy."
As All Might leaves the room, he meets Tsukauchi's grim face in the fluorescent lights of the hallway, ignoring the awe looks of Young Midoriya's guards. The door is heavy as it slams shut behind him.
"Young Bakugou will have the desired effect."
"Thank you," the detective nods, offering the guard-staked door a calculating glance; when he catches Toshinori's eye, he must find something he doesn't like because he provides: "And I'm sorry."
Even when out of his charge, Izuku Midoriya cannot stop giving Shouta trouble. What a problematic child.
"No," Shouta repeats.
"Mister Aizawa," Detective Tsukauchi pleads, following Shouta's sharp footsteps down the hallway. It only serves to annoy the underground hero more. "I understand that you dislike the idea."
"Dislike it?" he replies with disdain, almost halting in his rush for homeroom, "no," he voices adamantly, "this is beyond that. I find it abhorrent and completely unethical, if not for Midoriya -who's underaged despite being some kind of career criminal - then certainly for Bakugou who is not supposed to pay for his mistakes. My class of kids has been through enough."
In the end, they both know it's not his call, and so when they reach the classroom, Shouta interrupts Yamada's unnecessarily loud English class and summons Bakugou. Shouta expects him to be annoyed, if only because it's Bakugou's knee-jerk reaction to incertitude, but instead, he looks grim. He barely greets them and is fast to follow them into Shouta's office. When he sits down on the couch opposite his homeroom teacher and the detective, his hands are clenched. The pro-hero is sure: something's not right, but there's little chance Bakugou will tell him, especially not with Tsukauichi in the room. Just one more reason why this entire idea is inappropriate.
"Mister Bakugou," the detective begins, but he is quickly interrupted. Bakugou sits up in his chair, straightening out from the careless slouch.
"Is he dead?"
"Excuse me?"
"Don't beat around the bush," he growls, every inch of him coiled like a spring, "is he dead?"
"How do y-" This time, it's the teacher who interrupts the detective.
"He's fine, Bakugou." Red eyes pin him down, gauging his truthfulness. "He got out of surgery the day before last and woke up this morning." He doesn't bother asking how Bakugou knows. There's only one source he could have, and Shouta will have very strong words with Shinsou about mission confidentiality later. "He'll make a full recovery." Frankly miraculous, when Shouta returned from chasing down the villains to find a bleeding Midoriya in Shinso's arms… he was sure he was too late.
"Fat load of good that'll do him," Bakugou says bitterly, but even as his walls come up, he buries his expression in his palm. He sits pressed to the chair, head raised towards the ceiling, and Shouta can see the mixture of pure grief and relief travel down his body. It's painful to watch, and it only serves to make Shouta angrier about what they're going to ask him. It takes a minute, but Bakugou composes himself. His eyes are dry, and he looks significantly less hostile than before. He must've been stressing about Midoriya's condition the past few days. Shouta pictures Midoriya's distraught expression when he found out about Bakugou's kidnapping and wonders where any of them went wrong. "So, what do you want?" he directs the question to Tsukauchi, powering through his previous wave of emotion.
"It's good to see you Bakugou, I'm Naomasa Tsukauchi; we met briefly before." Only a grunt greets his polite greeting. "We are seeking your cooperation to interrogate Midoriya." The answer is given without fanfare, Tsukauchi catching on to Bakugou's naturally thin patience. Blonde eyebrows frown in displeasure.
"I thought he confessed?"
"Only to the crime of villainy, which is a broad-spectrum," the detective explains, all things Shouta already knows. "His entire case actually hinges entirely on his word and a couple of coincidences between a notebook and politically-charged murders." Bakugou's expression does not change, focused as he takes in the information. Shouta wonders how much he knows about Midoriya's alleged crimes. "It's weak evidence, truthfully, and it would've never gotten a conviction without Midoriya's own acceptance of guilt." Shouta does not miss the way Bakugou tenses up at the statement, mind turning at the odd reaction. "Now, because of this week's occurrences, we believe this might be an opening to get more accurate information from him. Although he has collaborated with the police in the past, we believe we haven't even scratched the surface of Midoriya's knowledge and involvement in large-scale, organized-crime operations. At this point, we haven't been able to link him consistently to any one villain group or determine the length of engagement in criminal activity."
"The nerd's in jail, though; what do you care?" Shouta sends him a warning glance, the line between reasonable frustration and rudeness chafes in the room.
"Linking him to groups can potentially incriminate further individuals for one, and allow us a better idea on how to negotiate with him; he can be particular in his requests."
"Particular how?"
"Last time, he asked for you."
"...Of course he fucking did."
"Language, Bakugou."
"Whatever." The teen crosses his arms to his chest, pondering the information. "He's not going to tell me jack shit -sorry-" he throws in carelessly before refocusing on Tsukauchi, "you know this?"
"You still have a better chance than anyone else according to our legwork. We've been trying to bargain for the League's hideout ever since he got arrested. With your kidnapping, he gave up three different locations; 17 villains are behind bars now in the simultaneous raids across the city."
"Are you serious?"
"Your conversation with him has two prongs. A couple of years ago, some villains - when apprehended pulling off fantastic schemes- would pin the masterminding of their plans on a third party. This mysterious figure's only consistent characteristics were young and freckled, but the earliest suspected accounts of Freckles describe him as a dark-haired child.
"They seriously call him Freckles?"
"Bakugou," Shouta admonishes.
"So you think Deku is this guy," he steamrolls right through the correction. Problem children all of them.
"We believe it's plausible," the detective agrees, "though that puts Midoriya's first recorded involvement with villains over 5 years ago."
"Bullshit."
"We're not putting anything off the table yet," he tags on, honest in their suspicion. Shouta finds baffling that a child would be consciously working for villains at such a young age, impossible really. "The second prong is that for as long as he's out of Tartarus, Midoriya is considered a flight risk. He might attempt to lure you into helping him escape." The teen bares his teeth at the insinuation.
"That's not happening," Bakugou growls out, red eyes feral.
"Your integrity is not in question, Bakugou," Tsukauchi assuages quickly, "If it were, we wouldn't be asking for your help."
"The nerd would never count on me to break him out; he's dumb but not that dumb."
I just need to see that Kacchan's okay with my own eyes.
"Regardless, you're still our best bet," the detective offers diplomatically, "can you do it?"
"Tch," Bakugou grumbles, but he nods once, sharp and willful, one more 3-A kid that's grown much too fast.
We're almost at the end, Izuku and Katsuki see each other face to face next chapter!
Take care,
Dee