Gets on to writing because if I delay Stygian Fire again people are going to strangle me
ends up finishing this instead.
Wat.
Lady .exe has made an error.
Chapter 5: Tsukauchi Naomasa
Naomasa's bad, no good, very tiring night starts late in the afternoon with a phone call.
Grabbing his phone off the desk, he glances at the number displayed on screen, questioning who could be calling at this time of the afternoon when he was just about to clock out. The corner of his lips twitch upwards in recognition, and he is quick to accept it.
The moment the line connects, he goes right for it. "And here I thought you would come see me in person. Or are you getting on the years, old friend?"
A snort is his answer. "I actually am." Toshinori's voice echoes smoothly through the call, faintly amused. "On my way to your station, if you have the time. I have a few questions for you."
Naomasa bites his lower lip. The way Toshinori spoke, he knew what his friend was aiming for. He hadn't approached the topic of telling the truth to Izuku, so he tries to evade. "You should come over another day," He says a bit too fast, and he has to wince at his own stupidity. "I'm working-"
Toshinori cuts him off all too excitedly. "Good, good! I have a villain at hand that needs processing!"
"Drop it off the front-"
Someone knocks on his door.
"...door."
Toshinori is being suspiciously silent on the other side of the call.
Naomasa blinks, pulling his phone away from his ear. Frowning, he glances between the open phone and the door. There's something in his belly that doesn't quite sit well -a gut feeling the detective is not enjoying.
With a creeping suspicion, he gets up and slides the door open.
A man his size shouldn't be able to pull off a sheepish puppy expression but somehow, Toshinori did look exactly like one as he held up what looked like a bottle of soda filled with something green and murky. Naomasa jolted as he saw two yellow eyeballs floating in the liquid, little x over where pupils were supposed to be.
Naomasa openly stare, forcing his face to remain as neutral and flat as he could muster. His eyes drift between the soda bottle of all things to his friend's brilliant smile, which wavers upon seeing the unimpressed expression on the smaller man's face.
They gaze at each other in silence, each waiting for the other to make a move.
Naomasa finally breaks the staring contest.
"Tomaki," He barks, startling Toshinori. The officer who was darting across the hallway behind All Might, clearly trying not to get in the middle of the conversation startles and looks at him. "Here."
With one smooth, flowing move that reeked of exasperation, Naomasa plucks the soda can and tosses it to his fellow employee. The man barely manages to catch it. Satisfied, he turns to the bemused pro-hero.
"Go with him. Process the villain." Toshinori opens his mouth to speak, but Naomasa lifts a finger. "We'll talk after that."
With his piece said, he stalks out into the hallway and walks off.
Toshinori splutters like a wet cat behind him. "W-where are you going?"
"Getting a latte."
He ends up getting a black coffee with barely a drop of milk and sugar. It's not the whiskey he desperately wants, but he consoled himself with the knowledge that that day will come. Hopefully, soon.
One of the interns looks faintly horrified as he watches him force the coffee machine into making this monstrosity, but the detective had spent enough years working here to have long passed the line of giving a shit about what others thought. Half of the officers here had a caffeine addiction anyways.
Naomasa nurses the drink in his office while he waits for Toshinori to finish the processing. Thirty minute later, the pro-hero steps back into Naomasa's office, closing the door behind him.
"So." Naomasa begins as his friend sits down on the guest chair. He closes his eyes, inhaling the sweet, sweet aroma of caffeine. "Anything I can do for you, Toshinori?"
"Can't I come see an old friend?"
Naomasa peaks at him from over the coffee cup. He takes a sip instead of answering. "Hmm."
Toshinori barrels right through that lukewarm response. "I thought about coming in earlier, but I got sidetracked."
"...really?"
"Yup." Toshinori hums. Naomasa takes another drink. "I met a wonderful fan today. We had a nice conversation, and he gave me some advice about teaching!" Then he smiles and twists around, fumbling with his coat before pulling out a small, yellow book from one of the pockets. Naomasa sees Teaching for Dummies written on the cover in thick black lettering. Huh. How nice. "I hope I see him again. People like Midoriya -they remind me of why I am a hero." The grin on his face is blinding.
What.
A lesser man than Naomasa would have spat out the gulp of coffee he'd just taken. Only years of training and exposure to his charge's shenanigans kept him from covering his last report in his drink.
Goddamn it Izuku.
So this was the source of the not good feeling in his gut.
"Really?" Naomasa inquires with a painfully wide smile his friend somehow didn't pick up on.
"Yes," Toshinori continues, unaware of the tiny heart attack he was giving his friend because shit, Izuku wasn't supposed to be out alone what if he slipped and got hurt he had nothing to do with it but Miss Midoriya was going to have his head- "...it was a most wonderful conversation. Quite quaint. I wonder if I'll end up seeing at Yuuei someday."
"Not everyone has a Quirk suited for heroics." Naomasa reminds him gently, a contrast of the restless panic he was trying to keep down because this was not what he needed this late in the afternoon.
He was old, damn it. Or at least, he felt old at the moment. Naomasa could feel the grey hairs coming in.
God damn it, he should have taken the whiskey instead.
Discreetly, he flipped his phone open and ran through his mail looking for any mention of his charge wandering out of the hospital again. By now, the secretary knew to message call him directly instead of going to the police when it came to Izuku. He'd fixed that up with the hospital's owners with just the slightest bit of badge-waving.
To his consternation, there was no message from the hospital in his mail. Naomasa sighs quietly in relief and flips his phone closed.
Alright. He knew what it meant; Izuku returned to the hospital just fine in less than three hours after his escape. There had been no need for him to step in. Izuku was safe and well.
Well, it didn't do anything for the early grey hairs Naomasa was getting but good for him.
"True." Toshinori murmurs thoughtfully, reminding the detective that he was still, in fact, very much so in the middle of a meeting so no, it was unprofessional of him to lean down and retrieve the bottle of hard whisky tucked in the lower drawer of his desk.
No matter how tempting it sounded.
"He sounds young. Was he alone?"
"Huh, yes?" Fuck. That's it, he wasn't bringing him pastries next time. Izuku was supposed to know better. Screw the almond tarts he enjoyed so much, Izuku would have to subside on hospital food for the next week if he got Miss Midoriya in on it. "He left quickly, so I did not manage to catch him. He seemed to know his way around though. I think he lives by Dagobah beach?"
Naomasa barely restrains a scream. Try halfway across town.
"Interesting and completely accidental meetings aside," Naomasa leans back, ignoring the soft, confused sound Toshinori made at that. "I'm guessing this isn't a social call."
He watches through half-lidded eyes as his friend lowers his head, only to jerk it back up after a moment. Their eyes meet.
"That's right." Toshinori's voice is low and firm, a rarity outside of briefings that makes Naomasa straighten in his seat in attention.
There it was.
"I want to talk about the Sybil."
("Why that name?" Naomasa had asked long ago, peering at the young boy fiddling with a notebook.
"Well," Izuku began, pausing to flip a page. "Sybil comes from ancient Greece. Those were the name of the old women who spoke of prophecies." Izuku lifted three fingers. "It's a good diversion. I'm neither a woman, or old. By picking that name, villains are expecting a dusty old lady."
A diversion.
"Smart." Naomasa chimed.
A pause.
"You do have the creaking joints of one, now that I think about it."
Izuku throws a stuffed All Might at him in response.)
It was one thing know what All Might was after -it was another to have the confirmation.
Toshinori's suddenly sharpened eyes bear down on him, questioning.
There was no use beating around the bush, was there?
"They live here, in Musutafu." Naomasa swallows, minding his words as he spoke.
He'd need to be very careful of what he said during this conversation. Izuku would never forgive him if he let something slip -well, he would given his young friend's merciful personality, but Naomasa would expect to give up most of his last paycheck to bride him with hero collectibles if he wanted the child to ever talk to him again.
Toshinori perks up like a dog. "Really? Do they-"
Naomasa interrupts him, looking down at his desk.
"-know that you are here? Trust me, they know." And they will have a stern talking to after this call. "I told you, Toshinori. They will talk to you directly if they need to."
A low, disappointed sound left his friend.
The detective squints. "Toshinori, please don't tell me you're just in town to harass my-"
Immediately the blonde starts spluttering.
"Not at all!" The hero exclaims, slightly indignant as he hastily attempt to explain himself. Naomasa didn't look up, but he could bet his paycheck that he was waving his arms around like a frantic child attempting to hide a broken vase from their mother. "Well -yes, seeing the Sybil was one thing, but I also came back in town to teach."
"At Yuuei. You got the job in the heroics department's training class. I know."
Silence.
Tiredly, Naomasa looks up to see Toshinori's wide eyed expression. Here we go.
"Yesterday." The pro-hero states blankly, bewilderment slowly creeping in when he spoke next. "I only confirmed with Nedzu today."
"If you're moving here, you're going to have to get used to this." Naomasa takes a sip of his drink. "Their range spans far and wide. You moving here to teach causes ripples. Draws attention."
Not only from Izuku, he thinks solemnly, remembering the teenager's warnings. There's many who which you harm, friend. Many more that wish to tear the society you've helped build down.
Silence.
A sigh leaves the taller man. "I just wish I could meet them. I never got to thank them for saving me." For the greatest hero in the world, Toshinori acted and sounded like a kicked puppy. There was no way a grown man like him should look so downtrodden. Especially knowing he was capable to turning mountains to rubble.
Naomasa chuckles at his hopeful expression.
"I passed the message along the last fifty times, friend. They know your gratitude."
"I'm sure." Toshinori murmurs. His hand drifts down, fingers running on his left side. Naomasa feels his throat tighten at the thought of what could have been, if Izuku hadn't almost killed himself to get the message to him. "...but, I don't feel like that's enough."
Naomasa opens his mouth to speak -but that's when he hears his phone ring.
.
.
.
Izuku wakes from a light slumber at the sensation of Omniscience screaming in his head.
At first, he can only press his palms into his eyes, trying desperately to relieve the pressure to no such luck. It's not the first time this happened, that Omniscience decided to keep him awake at night because it wasn't satisfied with the information it gathered during the day and it thought nighttime was the perfect opportunity to shove what flavor of chips Mui from down the hall liked to eat and why down his throat, regardless if it's host needed sleep to survive.
So, grumbling and hissing under his breath, Izuku goes to fetch his painkillers.
The moment he stands up from his bed however, the nausea sets it.
It's only then that Izuku registers what exactly had his Quirk in such a frenzied state.
Too many paths were spitting off at once, faster than he was used too -he'd long learned how to tune out the billion of different divergence that happened every fraction of a second, the minuscule little changes that rarely affected things in the grand scheme. In the case of those changes, his Quirk worked very much like one's sight would if they were high up in the sky; the biggest, most contrasting landmarks would be the only thing their eyes would pick out.
For someone standing so far above, it was impossible to glimpse a single blade of grass from the billions that composed the landscape.
But this was different.
This time large branches were veering off, spluttering and breaking away and twisting all around each other until Izuku couldn't focus and lost the careful grasping understanding of the future ahead. He can't focus on where he was, which path was his and which was-
The world goes sideways.
the crushing pressure of a hand over his mouth
panic, things shouldn't be like this if they found out he would be
the sharp burn of a blade sliding over his throat
the sting at the corner of his eyes as he struggles to breathe through the thick arm wrapped around his neck
wide green eyes, teary and wet as the boy gasps through the blood dripping down his neck, gurgling as more and more red spreads on his clothes
Omniscience flickers and falls blessedly silent, if only for a moment.
His free hand flies to his throat.
Izuku quietly dry heaves.
Stupid, stupid Deku, he should have been more careful-
There's something bitter and acidic threatening to crawl his way up his throat. His grip on the bed's railing tightens to the point of near pain, barely able to stand on his own. His mind is unpheaved, a whirlwind of disorganized thoughts that swirl and twist and break and he can't hold on.
A single thought however rises from the chaos, commanding and cold that pierces through the madness in his head.
I have to get out of here.
He can almost hear the footsteps through the walls, the minute left until those feet reach him -until his position in the timeline reaches this sudden splinter he hadn't seen, too caught up with Kacchan and All Might to see the danger approaching. And now he was paying for it.
Maybe with his life, even.
But what could he do now? He had only seconds left before the choice was taken away from him.
His eyes dart to the panic button the wall. For a moment, his fingers twitch with the urge to reach for it, press it and have the nurses come running -but then he remembers his attacker's panic and a bloody smile and he can't breathe-
For the briefest moment, he wants to curl up under his bed. Maybe then he won't be found.
Omniscience twists like a agitated snake at the back of his eyes. Images flow in -hand dark grip pain scream knife -and no, Izuku thinks almost emptily as he feels this other Izuku die a drawn out death from the panicked stabs to his stomach, it won't do. There's no hiding.
But he has to let someone know.
He has to do something.
If he gets here and nobody was warned...
Omniscience burns. menace car knife bind black mask pain torn out no no no-
Stop it! He screams inside his head fruitlessly. I need to focus! I can't, I can't...
His Quirk brushes against his mind, unrelenting. From the barely restrained river Izuku lets through, it shows him another section of the splintered road. He falls silent, breath faltering as his mind scrambles to grasp how these paths moved, what he needed to do. What he could do.
Because when it came to humans, there was always, always a margin of error.
Izuku takes a deep breath and stumbles over his nightstand. Quickly, the green haired boy reaches into the drawer and grabs hold of his phone.
(The paths rippled and break again, appearing and fading and twining into something else than a abrupt death. It's not a relief, to know that they didn't want him dead. Not yet.)
Secured in this knowledge, he flips it open.
It takes only a moment to send his location.
Then he shoves it back into the drawer, walks over to the door and waits in the dark, with only his thundering heart and ragged breath as companions in a room that suddenly didn't feel safe anymore but caging him in, keeping him trapped at the mercy of the approaching danger.
Izuku can hear the footsteps now.
Slow, measured. Apprehensive.
His legs feel like lead under him. Like a deer caught in the headlights of a approaching car, he can only stand there, wide eyed and stiff as the door soundlessly slides open.
There's a man standing in the doorway. He's wearing a nurse's clothes, which contrasts with his thick black boots that are decidedly not part of the uniform. They're still dirty from walking outside.
He's also holding the very same knife Izuku had seen carving a bloody smile across his throat.
Stygian Fire's next chapter drops in like 2 hours tops, don't kill me ;m;
Also the previous estimate of the story lasting 10 chapters was wrong, I think. I see it going 20 chapters at most. So cheers?