The walk home went by as usual. The cool breeze of the air wafting the smells of the city into his nose. The fierce and gruesome fighting that took place in these streets could be said to be forgotten from an aesthetic point of view due to how very little scarring was visible. However, those scars, much like the smells, never went away. No matter how well the municipality renovated, rebuilt, removed, the blood, sweat and smoke lingered.
He jerked his head to the side as he barely noticed something zipping by.
"Dang it, I missed!"
Izuku grit his teeth and took a deep breath before turning towards the offending voice. Seeing the scraggly runt and his small rag-tag group of friends in the usual alleyway around his block, he felt his blood cool a bit and offered a smile.
"You do know that it's rude to throw trash at others, right?" he chided them.
"Not when it's being thrown at other trash!" the runt shot back with a smug grin, his buddies hollering and jeering. Izuku checked his watch and sighed.
"Well kids, this walking piece of trash here lives in an apartment and would like to return there soon. How about you head home as well? It's getting late and alleyway grime isn't exactly the best thing to smell like," Izuku told them before waving them goodbye. He could not help but grin when he overheard curses and the scurrying of feet behind him.
He dusted himself off once he entered the familiar sight of the apartment lobby. The faint hum of the fluorescent lamp above complimented the sparse décor around him, buzzing in his ears. The off-putting bright neon-red digital clock above the elevators told him that it took him about an hour to reach home since he left the office. He gave himself a raised brow and a smirk. Not bad.
Looking at the empty newspaper dispenser, his mind began to drift towards a time when the simple machine was filled with news. A young lad who just moved in with sunken eyes and a suitcase, grabbing a paper and reading each article featuring heroes and villains with scrutiny. Come to think of it, the lad was also carrying a bag containing a convenience store ready-made meal. Not to say that times were simpler back then, if anything they were harsher, but Izuku found the act of reminiscing the past to be…nostalgic? The proper terminology escaped him.
But, being sentimental never got him home any quicker so picked up his pace up the staircase beside the elevators, going up four steps at a time. Not a bead of sweat could be found on his brow and not a puff of hot air escaped his lungs when he reached his floor in less than a few minutes. Good. That meant more time he can spend relaxing.
It still did not prevent fatigue from setting in though and thus Izuku shuffled to his door with a mask of exhaustion, slightly crushed katsudon and water in one hand and suitcase in another. He sighed as he fumbled to get his keys, trying to flit his fingers through the suitcase's handles and snag the keyring. The old man was right—he did have a rough day. He barely slept after finishing the job the night before due to tending to his old classmate's injuries. His co-worker, however well-intentioned she may be, also caused him to miss his lunch and not to mention her rapid word-per-minute rate of yapping away by his cubicle every other day. The anxiety stemming from the kid at the lobby being alive only added to his weariness.
"I'm home." As expected, no answer.
Setting his suitcase and dinner on his dining table, he noticed signs of his kitchen having been used based on the dampness of the items by his drying rack. He allowed a soft smile to come out. Momo didn't need to clean up after eating but she did so anyway. She also managed to finish the vegetables given by the old man. He frowned. While he knew she was not a fussy eater, she was a fan of the sweeter side of gourmet. She must have been famished! Poor thing. What have they done to her?
Well, he knew what. More than a dozen things come to mind, none of them pleasant. No, what really bothered him was the why and how.
Why did they abuse her? Why did they take her?
How did this happen? How long was she treated this way?
Those were questions that he might have to ask her later down the road. Not like he could tell exactly when he could because she should be in the hospital by now. A single tear rolled down his cheek. Battered black and blue with not an article of cloth to cover her dignity, scars marring once flawless skin and a broken rib, withered arms and chafed lips; the woman he rescued that night was the husk of the proud and awe-inspiring Yaoyorozu Momo. As harsh as it may sound, it was not her appearance that made him think so.
"At least, finish the job before you go."
That line. The way she said it. It was the finality and acceptance of her fate that struck him. What have they done to reduce her to a point where death seemed better?
To want to die.
The crinkling of plastic made him realise his fists were clenching hard. Good thing it wasn't the katsudon casing. In any case, he did not feel hungry anymore so he put the katsudon into his microwave oven to reheat later. Now, all he wanted to do was take a nice long soak in his hot tub and crash.
"Damn it," he muttered. The thought of having to fill up the tub and wait for it to reach optimum heat added to a list of minor annoyances that have been building up the whole day. He just wanted to let all of that stress and uneasiness dissolve in the comfort that was the hot tub. He yanked his tie loose and set his hand on the bathroom door knob.
Let's get this over with.
He swung the door open with the determination of a tired salaryman.
"AHHH!"
And slammed it shut with the embarrassment of a chided child.
"I'm sorry!" Izuku's face flushed bright. He could feel heat filling his senses and he was not certain if the steam from his bathroom had anything to do with it. "I didn't see anything, I swear!" he added after a while. He did not hear any response coming from the bathroom. Every perceived second made him more anxious. While he did want to bathe, he felt dirty. These eyes have seen what should have been seen. And the steam did little to cover the milky skin that dripped with water-NO! Stop it, Izuku Midoriya! No! Bad Deku!
He gulped audibly. As a Quirk data analyst, every situation must be taken with a rational approach. So, he started off with the first question that popped up.
Oh Lord, why is there a woman in my bathroom?
o-o
After cleaning up the kitchen after fixing herself dinner, Yaoyorozu Momo decided to take the opportunity to indulge in a luxury she had been denied for quite some time: a proper bath. If her benefactor was kind enough to let her use their kitchen, there should be no harm in using their bathroom too which was why she took it upon herself to fill up the hot tub prior to making dinner. Locking the door behind her, she undressed and plopped her clothes by a corner of the bathroom. A huge pile of one-oversized All Might t-shirt.
On a side note, whoever this person was, they were probably vegetarian. How else could one find it reasonable to fill up a fridge with that much green? Pudding is vegetarian, right? Why wasn't there a single pudding in the fridge then? Caramel pudding after a long day at work would have been a blissful way to unwind.
I should probably wait till they come back so that I can thank them properly for their hospitality, she thought as she let the soothing hot shower rain down her body and hair. A sad excuse of a hero she may be now but she was still a daughter brought in prestige. Etiquette and good manners instilled in her upbringing shall never leave her no matter the circumstance. That was how she carried herself when she led her friends in class 1-A as Vice-President, that was how she carried herself when she was assigned to her squad when the fighting broke out and that was exactly how she intended to carry herself now. A reason to live had been granted to her and she'd be damned if she was not going to use it.
The dirty water that flowed into the drain gradually became clear, Momo finishing up scrubbing her skin clean. She wiped the steam-covered mirror to check up on herself. She felt pleased to see that her complexion was rid of the grime that accumulated throughout her time in captivity. She lost track how she was kept in the slimy grasp of Hiko nor did she remember the number of blows that have struck her. With that in mind, it was amazing how well she looked in the mirror, bruises and broken ribs aside. Tears welled at the corners of her eyes as she dipped into the hot tub.
The calming warmth of the bath seemed to have removed the walls that she built to keep her sane in the face of the horrors that she went through. The bone-chilling sensation that sent her hairs on end when the monstrosities that wiped out her entire team in that burning apartment, the chaos that ruled the streets swept in the madness that was the Escalation, her weak and battered self being captured by one of the new rising figures of the underworld; it was hard to believe that she would have ever thought she would be relaxing in a hot tub, staring into the beige tiles of a humble bathroom. The purifying water she soaked in allowed her mind to wander. And thus stumbled on a lingering shadow that refused to let itself be forgotten.
At first it was a mild inconvenience in her throat, then it became a choking sensation that wanted escape her mouth. As much as she tried to hold it back, she let forth the quiet sobs and tears out of her system.
Why? Why? Why? Why was I allowed to live when my friends perished? If only I did not hesitate when I saw the old lady's face on the creature, my team would have lived. If only I was strong enough to save the tenants of the apartment. I let them die because of my weakness. Do I even want to return to service after such a disgrace? Wouldn't it be better if I pushed away the masked man's embrace and remain in that room? I'm being a nuisance to him. If only I just-
She quickly shook her head and slapped herself. She spent soaking in the tub long enough and now it was time to get ready to look fresh. The apartment's tenant might return anytime soon so should not look miserable if she were to be thanking them.
Grabbing a towel, Momo started to dry her hair. She grumbled a bit at the long hair that she now possessed. A hair cut was long overdue. So caught she was in her post-bath ruminations that she could not help but scream when the bathroom door suddenly swung open.
Only for it to slam shut with equal brevity.
Momo's face in the mirror's reflection looked about as red as the tomato she ate for dinner. How long did she spend in the bathroom? Stupid, stupid, stupid! Why did she have to cry in the tub? Of course she was going to use up more time than she intended with her private display of emotion. Wrapping the towel around her wet frame, she opened her mouth to apologise only for the person to cry out, "I'm sorry!"
That voice! Could it be? Momo suddenly couldn't form coherent words as a surge of memories flooded her mind. Memories of the gentle and timid representative for General Studies in UA. Messy tuft of green and determined green eyes. The sparkle in those eyes when she saw him talk about Quirks during the annual UA tournament. Midoriya? It might not be him or it might be. Panic and shock did wonders to disorient a person's perception after all and she did never thought herself as being above such human weaknesses.
"I did not see anything, I swear!" the person behind the door exclaimed, his voice cracking toward the end. Momo could not help but giggle and smile. There was no mistaking it; only Midoriya had a voice like that. Thus, it was only fitting to imagine the face he had when she proceeded to call out, "Of course you didn't, you saw everything when you put clothes on me!"
o-o
"M-M-Mo-Mo-Momo?!" Izuku's face was now a bright red tomato. His lips felt dry and his hands were shaking. His gut dropped into a pit he never knew he had. He didn't mean to! She was already naked when he found her and he tried to keep his eyes closed when he tried to put clothes on her but he decided seeing was the lesser of two evils when he realised that putting a shirt on another person blind will result in accidental contact. But then, a realisation struck him back to his senses.
"Why aren't you in a hospital right now? Your ribs are broken!"
"Can't a lady enjoy a bath before going? The place you found me isn't exactly the cleanest, you know?"
A twinge of guilt twisted his gut. Even though Izuku knew that she meant it as a joke, he felt like an idiot over this tactless oversight. "Oh, right," was the response that he came up with. "In that case, I'll be in my room. Give my door a knock once you're done and I can give you something more proper to wear."
He then retreated into his room and slumped onto his bed. His mind and body were not in sync as the former raced with thoughts whereas the latter felt as though the essence that kept it moving was slipping away. The body yearned for rest but the mind would not let it. So, he decided to lay in his bed and wait for the knock to come.
Knock, knock!
Okay, maybe not. He got up, with surprising difficulty, and opened the door. To say that he was stunned would be an understatement.
His body frozen in place and his tongue incapable of forming coherent speech, Izuku was greeted with the sight of Momo in a snug red open-chest sweater that showed a bit more skin than he expected. The overwhelming synergy between her pencil skirt and stockings served to summon another imaginary lightning bolt to strike him dumb.
W-what a sight!
Anyone looking from the outside in might have thought that the young man had been struck by this woman's beauty and had difficulty looking away from her chest. They would not be wrong either but for the wrong reason..
The necessary exposure of skin to maximise the utility of her Quirk, the ability to materialise any inanimate object from any exposed part of her body. Her choice of fashion fascinated Izuku because he saw it as the optimal blend of aesthetics and practicality. The aesthetics were a no brainer but the practicality of it all was that it was decent enough to pass as civilian clothing yet also exposing enough to allow a degree of combat readiness should her Quirk be needed.
"Hello? Midoriya? Are you okay?"
There was so much beauty in the smooth blend of practicality and beauty of the choice of attire Momo adorned. If there was one word that he could describe it, it would be…
"…breath-taking."
"What was that?"
"I-I said I'm fine let's go to the hospital now!" He fixed his tie with shaky hands and dashed past her to grab his suitcase and possibly his wallet.
He filed the information away in his mental database for later use. Maybe in a report.
Momo stood by Izuku's room with a smile, her cheeks a shade of pink.
o-o
"…and you are sure that is all you remember?"
"For the last time, yes! That's all I know, okay! I covered for Mike's shift because he was sick and he agreed to call in a favour to increase my part-time pay. By the time I got there, nothing much was going on and I was bored outta my skull. Next thing I knew, this masked man kicks the doors open and stares at me while holding a bloodied bat.
"Oh god…that mask….it was something outta a horror film. Those small simple eyeholes and that grin, it was evil itself, I tell you. Evil! Heck, even if it was some sick out-of-season Halloween prank, I'd still slam the panic button!"
"Anything about the man?"
"No. Not much. Just that he wore a suit. One of them business types and had green hair. Then I got a bat to the face and whaddaya know? Everyone around me is dead—no—slaughtered."
Detective Naomasa let out a heavy sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. Yet another vague clue on the Masked Maniac and still nowhere near conclusive. "Very well. Thank you for time. The doctor's told me you will be allowed to go next thing tomorrow."
"Yeah, yeah, I know. Good thing I won't have to sit through another one of those psych-eval sessions. Like, I spent most of it out cold! Why would I be bothered by much of it? God!"
Another sigh. "Well, get some rest, son. Take care."
The detective then made his leave from the ward and took the elevator down. This man… He can't be working alone, that he was sure of. There was no way that one man had the resources to stake out several gangs and had the firepower to wipe each of their hideouts and bases. Last night's hit had been the worst one yet. Whoever made the hit, he definitely did his homework. That particular luxury apartment complex was the regional headquarters for Yokohama's branch of the Quirk supremacist gang, the Heaven's Chosen Ones; the largest crime syndicate in the country. Whoever was responsible for this had to know their security policy as anyone with a powerful Quirk would not even make it past the security at the main entrance into the complex itself.
This meant that the suspect must have a weak Quirk or was Quirkless though his money's on the former. According to the recent Quirk data reports, anyone who knew how to utilise their Quirks to the fullest, no matter how weak or strong, can be a threat though the reports also helpfully show how much a threat a person depends on the type of Quirk. These data reports, while they have been around even before he started work, have now become standard issue since the Escalation. That incident woke everyone's eyes up to the real and ever-present danger of an all-out fight with the Quirk holders. The phrase, 'knowledge is power', had never been truer. Having relied on Heroes for so long had dulled the government's judgement on needing to find counters against Quirked individuals. After all, when you have the Symbol of Peace, who neatly divided people into Heroes and Villains and the people who needed saving, why should they?
He grimaced at the thought of his old friend.
Toshinori…you won the fight but you lost the war. Is this the world that you envisioned?
Ding.
The elevators opened and he proceeded to make his leave. Just as he left, he noticed a bespectacled balding man enter the elevator after him. He thought nothing of it. He also noticed a young man with green hair along with a young brunette who looked like the spitting image of the missing Hero. It might be her but that would be too much of a coincidence. Seeing the suit the man was wearing, it's probably some yuppie making sure his new flame wasn't knocked up.
o-o
The newspapers the following morning reported that Ren Nakajima, part-timer at the Holden Apartment complex, had died.