Chapter 20: Weekend

Izuku's mother greeted her son with a yawn as she walked into the kitchen. Izuku, who was sitting on the couch watching TV, craned his head around and smiled brightly.

'Good morning.' he said cheerfully, 'That was some storm last night, eh? According to the news the seawall was swamped and the beach front flooded! The mayor declared a state of emergency and they're bringing in additional disaster response heroes.'

'Oh, my.' she croaked hoarsely before clearing her throat, 'A state of emergency you say? Hm, I wonder why he would do that…' she said leadingly.

'Huh?' he said, tilting his head in confusion, 'What do you mean? The beachfront is a wreck right now.'

She merely nodded, 'Yes, yes. I'm sure he has the best of intentions.' she said before changing the subject, 'So, did you get any sleep? The thunder kept me up all night.'

'Yeah, I slept okay.'

'Mmm. Good.' she said.

Now came the awkward part. Shifting himself around on the couch so he could face her, he waited while she filled up the coffee pot with water. Hovering the pot over the sink, she opened the cupboard and her mug came floating out into her hand. When she turned, he caught her attention with a fresh smile.

'Sooooo, remember how yesterday you suggested I go out, have fun, see the town?' he prompted.

'I suppose.' she said slowly, eyeing him sideways. She recognized that voice.

'Well...the, uh, the b-best things in life might be free, but...'

She stared at him. Behind her the coffee maker started to hiss.

'C-Can I have some money?'

She let out an exaggerated sigh. 'Ugh...get my purse.' she said, her chiding tone only half-hearted. Izuku hopped out of the couch, 'It's by the front-' she started, but he was already moving. He knew where it was.

Retrieving the small black purse, Izuku tentatively set it down on the table before nonchalantly turning his gaze back to the distant television. To ask for money from one's mother was an elaborate ritual for Izuku crafted after years of buying overpriced All Might merchandise. He was never any good at it.

The news reporter continued her coverage of the destruction at the beach before switching to that day's events. The footage changed from flooded buildings and broken windows to the gleaming UA Stadium where the reporter stated that despite the storm damage to the city, the Sports Festival was still slated to occur as planned on Monday.

'So, are you meeting your friends today?' she asked as she counted out some bills.

'I'm still waiting to hear from everybody. To be honest they're probably all exhausted too. Maybe I'll run into them on Sunday.'

'Well okay. Try not to hurt yourself. Stay away from construction sites!'

'Yeah, yeah…'

Amidst the sound of construction vehicles and shrieking gulls, Izuku watched as man, man-animal hybrid, and animal alike worked to remove the ocean debris from the waterfront. Great flocks of seabirds covered the beaches and buried roads, feasting on the helpless sea life disgorged from the storm, scattering only when waves of water were once again rolled back into the bay.

This invisible tide was the work of one blue and white costumed hero (Riptide? Surf? Izuku couldn't remember) who, with a motion like rolling an invisible carpet, sent swathes of detritus and water tumbling back into the bay. Surrounding him were younger heroes, probably his interns, who similarly moved trash and debris into the backs of waiting dump trucks.

He had thought that the area would be swarming with curious onlookers given the powers on display, but the overpowering stench of the ocean's vomit seemed to have driven everyone but the children away. Standing in the crowds of cheering youngsters, Izuku began to feel self-conscious and he too left.

I wonder how many of those guys were support heroes? Considering how I can't remember their names, probably all of them…

Wandering away from the boardwalk, he found himself subconsciously being led back up into the slums. As he walked, he stepped over a fallen banner advertising the Sports Festival and the reminder caused him to start worrying again. In order to get any kind of payout on his bets he would need to get to the third event. However, even if it meant losing all of his and Weasel's money, he could not use his enhanced strength or speed. Just using his inhuman reflexes and spider senses might get him into trouble. This wasn't going to be like fooling his teachers or classmates. Everything he did would be videotaped, catalogued, and analyzed. Millions of people were going to be watching and if he acted superhuman in the slightest way, he would be discovered.

I need to keep my head down, always. I can't ever let myself forget that. Hell, never mind the money, what if Dr. Akatani sees me win and decides to do a little investigating? He knows me. Or at least he used to anyway. How difficult would it be for him to discover that I was at the Quirk Research Institute that day? I'm sure a genius like him would put two and two together real quick.

As he thought over his situation an odd sense of déjà vu came over him. Over to his side, he noticed a vacant three-story apartment. He stared at the building. It had long since been destroyed by some fire or explosion and faded police tape could still be seen fluttering around some of the windows.

Why does this all feel so familiar?

As he racked his brains trying to remember why the building stood out, a girl came jogging his way. Upon spotting Izuku the runner slowed. Pulling out her earbuds, she took a moment to catch her breath before resuming her run.

Just as Izuku felt he was about to remember why the building stood out to him, his concentration was abruptly broken when he sensed someone approaching him. Glancing back along the sidewalk, he was immediately taken aback by who he saw. About a half block away and jogging closer was the pretty brunette girl from class 1-A.

Ochaco Uraraka?!

Izuku felt his sense of déjà vu grow stronger.

'Should I go talk to her? I should probably say something, shouldn't I? It would be weird to just ignore her. Although I-'

Izuku's mutterings were suddenly interrupted by Ochaco herself.

'Hey! Izuku Midoriya, right?' she called, waving her hand.

'H-Hey!' he called back, raising his hand in greeting and smiling. He attempted a carefree grin, but his uneasiness must have been showing as instead he just looked queasy. He stood numbly as she jogged up to him.

'Hey.' she greeted again, stopping in front of him, 'Whew! I've never seen you around here before! Do you live in the projects?' she asked, wiping some sweat from her brow.

'Uh, no. No. I-I don't. I just came back from the beach.' he said.

'You were at the beach? What were you doing over there? Were you volunteering or something?'

'No, I was just curious about the storm damage. It was a little bit hectic over there though so I left. I mean, obviously I left. I'm standing here now and I, uh, yeah…' he trailed off weakly.

'Ah. So,' she eyed him mischievously, 'I heard you guys in support have got some secret plans to take out the hero classes. I don't suppose you can give me a few hints as to what you've got up your sleeves, can you?'

'Wh-What secret plans?' he gulped as Ochaco crossed her arms and eyed him skeptically, 'What have you heard? Who've you been talking to? There are no secret plans!'

As he sputtered trying to think of something to say, she laughed and tapped his arm.

'I'm just messing with you.' she said with an easy smile, 'I don't buy into the whole "class rivalries" thing. It's easy to think that everyone has it in for class 1-A, but I know that's not actually the case.'

She laughed and he smiled back weakly. The truth was that class 1-H had done far more than merely plan to take down the heroes. Quirks had been researched, match-ups considered, and weapons built. What would Ochaco think if she knew about the surprise they had devised for her?

'Momo tells me that you're one of the top contenders for the Sports Festival. Do you think you'll win a medal?'

Izuku shook his head, 'No. I'm going to try my best, but I don't know if I'll even make it through to the third round. From what I've heard your class and class 1-B is really strong.'

'Oh, stop.' she said dismissively, 'I heard about how you fought at the USJ.'

He felt himself blush at the praise.

'I had my gun back then though. During the competition I can only use my grappling hook. No rubber bullets allowed.'

'Still, I saw on Facebook that one of your classmates had posted a bunch of pictures of jetpacks, and bombs, and all sorts of weird stuff-'

Izuku felt his eye twitch.

Mei! Couldn't she wait until after to start showing off her gear?!

-so I'm sure you've got a few other gadgets you're not sharing.'

'Well, maybe.' Izuku said, grinning before he could stop himself.

Before either of them could continue their conversation, Ochaco and Izuku spotted a pair of rough looking men approaching them. They walked with no particular urgency, but they had seemed to have taken an interest in the two. Ochaco turned back to Izuku, still smiling.

'Here walk with me, talk with me. I need to keep my heart rate up.' she said and Izuku nodded. He followed beside her and set into step as she started to jog. 'So, where are you headed?'

Together the two jogged towards the subway station, talking as they ran. Their conversation carried them from life at UA and the upcoming school festival, to their classmates and teachers. As they spoke Izuku became convinced beyond all doubt that he had met Ochaco at some point, but try as he might he couldn't place her. She was so familiar it was maddening.

Before long, they arrived at the station and the two said their goodbyes. Each promising the other to meet again during the third event of the festival. As he left aboard the subway, he pulled out his phone.

I should get my phone fixed while I have the time. He thought with a flicker of annoyance at the sight of his cracked screen, but as usual the thought vanished as quickly as it had arrived. Checking his inbox, he saw that he had no messages.

Well at least I got to hang out with someone today. And it was a girl too!

Later that night Izuku took his web-shooters out for some live fire practice. Crouching sideways along the wall of a building, he hummed to himself with satisfaction as he fiddled with a captured smartphone. He was continually amazed at his newfound efficiency. Before, crossing from one end of the slums to the other could take as long as twenty minutes (if he was moving at full speed). But now, thanks to his web-shooters, that time was halved. As an added bonus web slinging was also far less exhausting than running and jumping everywhere not to mention he could keep a better eye on the streets from on high.

So far tonight he had already disrupted a number of Shocker's crews, and to make things better there was no escaping this time. They were firmly secured in place with his web solution.

'Gah! What-what the hell is this stuff!' cried one of the stuck thugs, struggling in vain against the white goop that had ensnared him and his four comrades.

'It's my web!' Izuku proclaimed proudly as he at last bypassed the password on the phone, 'I don't know if you've noticed but I have this whole spider thing going on. A man spider if you will.' he said, as he dialed the police.

'This shit's nasty!' cried another one of the thugs, 'Tell me your body doesn't make this…stuff!' she begged.

'Shhh!' Izuku hissed as the dispatcher answered, 'Hey, it's me.' he said in his deeper, questionably effective Spider-Man voice, 'I've got five waiting for you on 69nth and Pike. I webbed them to the side of the stree-'

Suddenly the gang started shouting.

'Help! Help us!'

'We didn't do nothing wrong! He's a psycho!'

'He planted drugs and guns on us! We're innocent!'

Izuku frowned over at the thugs. Shielding the phone with his hand from the frantically yelling criminals, he continued speaking.

'Sorry. Anyway, anytime you want to get these guys is cool. They're not going anywhere. Bye.'

Izuku dropped the phone down to the pavement below. Upon impact it's screen and casing burst apart.

'Hey! My contacts asshole!' cried the thug whose phone he had borrowed. Izuku regarded the five reproachfully. Their struggling had only managed to get them more entangled.

'Are you serious? I'd be more worried about the police if I were you.'

One of the thugs snorted and spat.

'You think we're going to prison? For what? What are they gonna charge us with, dipshit? We got assaulted by some costumed freak-'

Izuku rolled his eyes. Before the thug could continue, he shot out a web strand at a neighbouring building and leapt.

'-who aint even a pro! None of this'll stick in court! None of it!' the man screamed after him.

The man's words chased after Izuku as he swung away. The thug was right of course. The police wouldn't arrest him or his pals. Vigilantism was not grounds for citizen arrest and any evidence connected with vigilantism was inadmissible in court (unless you were prepared to testify, and face criminal charges yourself). Izuku could see the sense in this of course. Pro heroes were agents of the peace, vigilantes were not.

I wonder if once all is said and done the cops will just let Shocker off too? He thought as he swung between two high rises. No, there's no way. He has too much blood on his hands. I'm sure they'd arrest him. They would have too.

He felt his spider sense start to twitch. There was a police helicopter getting dangerously close to his position. Altering his course, he started off towards a more distant region of the slums.

Even if the police let all these guys go though. I'm still chewing through Shocker's guys. He has to run out of foot soldiers sometime, won't he? I mean, how often can you get beaten up before you call it quits?

The next morning Izuku awoke with a haggard yawn. Sluggishly pulling off his sleeping mask and popping out his ear plugs, he reached over to his bedside table and switched off his vibrating phone alarm before flopping back into bed. He couldn't let himself doze the day away. He needed to get as good a night's sleep as possible for the Sports Festival tomorrow.

After a few tempting moments of lying motionless in his comfortable bed, he rolled out of his sheets and made his way to the dining room.

'Mom?' he said before yawning, 'Hey, Mom…'

But there was no response. To his surprise, the apartment was empty. Besides the dull thrum of the appliances and his neighbours' moving around, all was quiet.

Still clumsy from sleep, he wandered around the small flat for some sign of her whereabouts. Entering the kitchen, he spotted a small note on the table. Written on it, he saw the tiny, perfect, telekinetic print of his mother. It read:

"Going to get groceries. Run errands. I will be back for supper. I'm making something special. Love, Mom."

He set the note back on the table. A special dinner could really only mean one thing. Katsudon, his favorite. Just the thought made his stomach rumble. Invigorated, he walked with a bounce in his step to the fridge and scrounged himself a sandwich. Retreating to the couch, he plucked the remote from the cushions before settling in. He hadn't had the apartment to himself for a while, and he was looking forward to just relaxing.

He turned on the television. The screen displayed a large, muscly man, flexing and winking in front of a hooting audience while the television host smiled vapidly beside him.

'Returning to the Hero Kitchen is everyone's favourite cactus themed superhero, The Needler!' the host said loudly, and the audience cheered anew.

Izuku rolled his eyes. Selecting guide, he started to browse for something else. To his dismay, there was an endless list of hero themed reality TV. There was Hero Kitchen, the Hero House, Hero House Flippers, the list went on and on.

Finally, he spotted something that got his interest. Selecting "The UA Sports Festival Spectacular: Pregame!" Izuku leaned back and bite into his sandwich.

This ought to be interesting. Maybe I'll learn something useful for the competition tomorrow.

He watched as the camera panned over the UA sports stadium while the two hosts - both former pro Heroes and graduates of UA - spoke at length about the history of the games and the stadium itself. Izuku only half listened. He was about to change the channel again when the hosts finally started talking about the contestants.

'Of course, what would be the point of all this without the competitors?' said the burly, mustachioed, retired hero Bob Cat.

'Oh, yeah you-you know you just, uh, got to have em!' said his counterpart, Lenny Lemon Thrower.

'So let's take a look at our roster. You've got a lot of upcoming talent here folks. All of them new blood. They're young, they're hopeful, they're hungry.' Bobcat said.

'Yeah. Yeah, it's what they are. Why they're here.' Lenny affirmed, bobbing his head.

'So, lets pull up the graphic. First up, it's class 1-A.' The screen shifted from the two seated hosts to a list of class 1-A students who each had their face next to their name, 'Now we've got to talk about these guys.'

'Oh, yeah. No two ways about it Bob.'

'First off we've got to talk about Shoto Todoroki. He's Endeavour's son. Now Endeavour, love him or hate him, you've got to respect his power. But get this folks, Todoroki Jr. here? He's even more powerful. He's got two quirks. Not only can he shoot blasts of fire like his father, he can generate ice as well. Do you know what that means, Lenny?'

"It means he's, uh, got no weaknesses Bob.'

Izuku studied the picture of Shoto on the screen. He was looking at the camera aloof, almost uncaring in his casualness. His cool confidence was not unwarranted. During the USJ incident Izuku heard that Shoto had instantly defeated all of his opponents by encasing them in ice.

Even as Spider-Man I'd have trouble against someone like him. If I run into him during the tournament contest, I'm doomed.

'So besides Shoto, whose got your eye Lenny?'

'Me, I like Katsuki Bakugo.' The screen shifted from the calm, distant face of Shoto to the angry scowl of Bakugo. Izuku snickered slightly at the contrast.

Bakugo never liked having his school picture taken. I wonder if he would have smiled if he knew his picture was going to be used for the media? Izuku considered for half a moment. Naw. He would never.

'He's got explosions. He's got durability. What more could ya' want, Bob?'

'Mmhmm. Y'know, I'm glad you mentioned durability because like you said, he's generating those explosions from his sweat pores, essentially blowing up bombs right next to himself. His body has got to be able to cope with that and in Bakugo's case, it can.' Bob said.

If anybody can take down Todoroki its Bakugo. Izuku thought before taking another bite of his sandwich.

He continued to listen as the pair went through each member of class 1-A and 1-B. Finally, they finished going through the hero classes and Izuku sat forward eagerly. Logically, the support hero class was next.

'So there you have it folks. That's the first-year hero roster. A lot of untested potential, a lot of eagerness, excitement - these guys are in it to win it big. Of course, there are more competitors than just class 1-A and 1-B, isn't that right Lenny?'

'Uh, yeah that's right Bob. There is, uh, general education, the support department, and the business classes as well.'

Izuku felt his heart rate increase.

I wonder what they'll say about general education? I don't know anything about them. Or maybe… maybe they'll even do a segment about me! I mean, I am the first quirkless support hero at UA.

'Yep. Yeah, it's really great to see those guys compete.'

'Mmhmm.'

'Really shows the inclusiveness of the games and how we all work together…side by side. Um, yeah.'

'That's right Bob.'

The two hosts looked to each other blankly. After a moment they started to reshuffle their notes and a generic rock jingle started to play.

'So anyway, stay tuned until after the break. We will be going through the second years, and our favoured match-ups.'

Izuku's excited face quickly fell and he sat back in the couch while the program cut to commercial. As far as the media was concerned, all that mattered was Class 1-A and 1-B.

I guess I can't blame them. The hero classes always win. Still though, not even an honourable mention?

He scoffed. If everything went according to plan, those announcers were going to be in for a hell of a surprise tomorrow. Grabbing the remote, he started browsing again. Not seeing anything particularly interesting, he selected the hero alert channel.

The screen displayed a well-dressed reporter standing in front of a pockmarked brick wall, a worried expression on her face. Immediately his interest was piqued. In scrolling text on the bottom of the screen were the red alert warnings of a major incident underway. The reporter had her hand to her ear as some information was being fed to her. He waited with baited breath for her to start speaking.

'I've just been told that the death count has just climbed to fourteen as yet another group of victims has been found.'

Adrenaline began pumping into his body. Fourteen people was no joke. This had to be a serious incident.

'This latest group of five was discovered on the corner of 69nth Street and Pike Avenue.'

His face drained of colour and his whole body went numb.

Five victims… 69th and Pike…

'Similar to the other victims these were found immersed in the same unidentified chemical compound trapping them against a wall.'

His head started reeling. Pushing his head in his hands, he slouched over unblinking.

My web solution! It can't be! They were all conscious and breathing when I left them! Could it be toxic? No that's impossible! This can't be happening!

His mind flooded with images as he poured over every detail that he could. The reporter said that there were fourteen victims. How many had he defeated last night? There were five dealers on Pike, two enforcers on 77th, another three on Cable Junction…

'Authorities say the victims were killed after being immobilized then methodically executed with an edged weapon.'

He tore his head up.

An edged weapon?

'So far, the police have only one suspect; the renegade street fighter Spider-Man. Each of the locations where the victims have been found were called in to police by the masked villain himself last night in a sickening attempt of intimidation. We have a recording of the message here. We warn you that the following audio is disturbing.'

He remained still as he listened in horror. Sure enough the clip was his voice telling the police where they could find the criminals he had subdued while they shouted for help in the background. Devoid of context, the message made him seem like a total monster; making his opponents beg for mercy before slaughtering them, leaving their corpses hanging for the police to find. The recording finished and the television displayed the reporter again.

'We will continue to update this story as it develops. Police are warning everyone in the inner-city area to exercise caution while they investigate. If anyone has any information, please call-'

With shaking hands, he turned off the television. Standing, he began to pace back and forth across the tiny apartment. His mind reeling with what he had just heard.

An edged weapon…

After a few moments, he decided that he couldn't just sit and do nothing. He needed to get out there and find some answers. In a flash he went to his closet and put on his spider suit. Pulling on some jeans and a hoodie overtop his costume, he pocketed his mask and ran out. Come what may, he would figure out what had happened last night no matter what.

Detective Naomasa Tsukauchi reluctantly double parked his car next to an unregistered, unplated, piece of shit brown sedan. The crime scene was still a half block up, but this was as close as he was getting. All of the locals were out in droves trying to catch a look at the bodies and he wasn't feeling particularly lucky when it came to parking (or anything else for that matter).

Reluctantly stepping out of his car, he briefly considered writing the brown sedan he had parked beside a ticket before he sighed and started walking along his way. There was no point in ticketing anyone out here. As he trudged forward a laughing swarm of children sprinted past him, eagerly running towards the police barricade.

'Do you think there'll be blood?!' asked one of the children to his friends as they ran.

'I hope so!' came the excited reply.

He merely shook his head. He wasn't surprised that the children were so interested, he was just envious of their energy. For the past six hours he had been driving from crime scene to crime scene, taking photos of the gore and trying not to puke on his trousers.

As he walked, he felt his feet start to hurt again. He'd worn out his shoes trying to hunt down a witness last night, not that there was any point. The people in this neighbourhood didn't talk to cops and especially not to detectives.

It wasn't long before he reached the police cordon. Pushing his way through the crowd, he stooped underneath a strip of yellow police tape. An angry patrolwoman who had the poor misfortune to be assigned crowd control turned to him angrily. Before she could say a word, he raised his badge and without a second glance she turned away from him and resumed her fruitless shouting ('Disperse! Disperse!').

Stepping past some uniformed officers and going around a blocking police van, he came face to face with the crime scene. Stuck to the side of a pawn shop like bugs on a fly strip were five young adults -four male, one female- bodies split from naval to throat, their dried guts dripped out down the building into a pool of viscera at their feet. Just like the others they were all disembowelled and left hanging, like pigs at the butchers.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his pack of cigarettes. He was down to his last cig. Taking out a finely engraved lighter, the only keepsake he had left of his failed marriage, he lit up before looking back up at the stiffs.

'Hey! Detective Tsukauchi' said a chippy, cloyingly high-pitched voice behind him.

He scowled. Swallowing back his disgust, he turned to the voice, his face carefully masked in apathy. Swaggering towards him was an old colleague of his, Detective Shibō. With his expensive coat and unbroken, shiny shoes, Shibō looked particularly out of place amongst the surrounding squalor. Hell, he'd look out of place at a tailor's wedding.

'Detective Shibō,' Tsukauchi greeted emotionlessly, 'I heard you got promoted to homicide. Congratulations.'

Shibō waved his hand dismissively, but his eyes alighted at the praise. Tsukauchi could see the folds around his fat chin grow slightly tighter as the large man resisted a smug grin. Back when he was a green faced rookie, Tsukauchi's old mentor had told him that any respectable detective ought to have a healthy gut. If that were true, then Shibō was Sherlock Holmes.

'Oh, it's nothing.' Shibō said, shrugging in a poor attempt at humility, 'When ol' Tsuryo kicked it and the position became available I figured I was due mine. I popped in the paperwork and presto, new badge.'

'Hmm.' Tsukauchi said, 'New car too.'

Shibō followed his gaze. Parked neatly on the side of the road was a brand new 6000 SUX, pink slip still on the window. Shibō turned back to Tsukauchi proudly.

'You like?' this time Shibō was unable to keep from smiling, his stained yellow teeth matching the gaudy jewellery on his fat fingers, 'Yeah. The missus old lady died. Had a heart attack, fell down some steps, and broke her neck. The wife got lucky with the inheritance and we decided to treat ourselves.'

'My condolences.'

Shibō shrugged again, 'We weren't close. Honestly, I'm surprised that's all it took to do the old hag in. I thought anything short of a silver bullet wouldn't cut it!'

Shibō burst out laughing and Tsukauchi managed a thin-lipped smile.

I thought you and your wife divorced over a year ago, Shibō? I thought she busted your cheating ass and took you to the cleaners? Stupid bastard. In any other city, any other police force…

After a few moments Shibō recovered himself. 'Anyway, what brings a fancy downtown detective like you all the way out here? Isn't there some depressed stockbroker's murder-suicide for you to solve?'

Tsukauchi took a drag of his cigarette before responding.

'Not today.' he said, breathing out a cloud of smoke, 'The mayor's office told the commissioner that it wants the good people of the slums to see that the city is taking the murders seriously. So that means more police, more visibility, and yeah, you get me too.'

Shibō spat than swore angrily. Throwing his hands on his hips, he glared over at him as though it was all his fault. Tsukauchi guessed that whoever was lining Shibō's pocket nowadays wasn't going to be too happy about extra police on the streets.

'This is some bullshit, Tsukauchi! No offense, but you don't know these streets like I do. You don't know the people like I do! This isn't like one of your nice, clean cases over in Palm Heights or wherever the fuck. This is the Grey Towers! You have no idea what it means to…'

Tsukauchi waited patiently for the fat man's angry rant to end before rising his hand placatingly.

'Shibō, detective, please. I never asked for this. The last thing I want to do is step on anybody's toes, but it's out of my hands. The good mayor wants voters to see people in suits walking around and asking questions. We both know that as soon as he's re-elected, I'll be back downtown anyway, so what's the harm? You'll only need to bear with me for a few weeks, a month or two tops, before I'm back where I belong.'

Tsukauchi watched as Shibō mulled his words over, lips pursed in concentration. Eventually, he appeared to reach some sort of conclusion.

'Alright, Tsukauchi but you follow my lead! I don't want you running off and stirring up trouble. Leave the questions to me, you understand?'

Tsukauchi took another long drag on his cigarette. Exhaling a deep cloud of smoke, he stared down at Shibō. After a moment of silence, the pudgy man began to fidget nervously. Just as Shibō opened his mouth to speak again, Tsukauchi answered him.

'Yeah, I understand. Now that the formalities are over with, why don't you take me through what happened here.'

Shibō dabbed away some sweat on his face before pointing up at the bodies.

'What's there to say? These guys were working the corner, the big guy,' he said pointing to one of the bodies stuck to the wall, 'was the dealer, the others lookouts and muscle. Spider-Man catches them on his turf. Slices them up. Case closed.'

Tsukauchi rolled his cigarette in his hands.

'Spider-Man doesn't kill though. Whose to say it wasn't some other gangster?'

'The fucker called us mid act.' Shibō said moving out of the way of a forensic officer, 'He's guilty.'

'Hmm…' Tsukauchi murmured, looking back up at the bodies.

In one night Spider-Man goes from slapping up thugs to gutting them like pigs? I doubt it.

'Were there any witnesses?' Tsukauchi asked turning back to Shibō.

'Yeah there was one. Some junky the responding officers nabbed. He said he saw a guy in red jump down from the rooftop with a sword of all things. He carved them up before running off towards the Towers.' Shibō gestured vaguely towards the four massive eyesores looming in the distance.

Tsukauchi frowned. Walking back past the police van, he looked down the street, over the heads of the crowd, and in the tower's direction.

Not much of a lead…

Suddenly he noticed a person in the crowd. A teenage boy with green hair and freckles. He had turned to look at the towers at exactly the same time as he had. He seemed out of place. His clothes were too nice, his face too clean. Before he could do anything though, the boy must have noticed him because he promptly disappeared back into the crowd.

Super hearing quirk maybe? Probably nothing…

Tsukauchi walked back to the bodies. With no leads, a corrupt partner, and the mayor's office riding his ass like a twenty-dollar whore, he had his work cut out for him. Taking a final drag on his cigarette, he flicked it aside and loosened his tie. It was going to be another long day.

Izuku's heart pounded as he sprinted up the side of the Grey Tower; his body flooded with adrenaline as he struggled to restrain his emotions. He was terrified of being out in the daylight, police were swarming everywhere, and yet he was too angry to turn back. Whoever was holed up in the towers had made him an accessory to murder. Not just one, but fourteen.

In his haste he found that he could barely form a coherent string of thought. Running and jumping up the spire, his mind blared with alternating messages urging caution one moment and speed the next, whispering him to be calm then shouting at him to get revenge. All the while his spider sense thrummed, covering his body in pricks and needles as it barraged his subconscious with sensory information.

He didn't know for certain who he was looking for, but he had a hunch. It was Stain. Who else carried a sword around? Who else would cut down fourteen criminals without a second thought?

In less than half a minute he reached the skeletal crest of the tower. He wasted no time in standing around. After a brief search of the concrete infrastructure that formed the core of the building, he located an ancient, rusted maintenance shaft. Effortlessly tearing the steel covered hatchway from its hinges, he tossed the crumpled metal covering aside like it was weightless.

For a moment he hesitated as he stared down into the pit before him. He needed to calm down, gather his thoughts. He wasn't even sure what had led him here. Between them, there were hundreds of floors in the Grey Towers with thousands of rooms. Why was he so sure that he was on the right track?

A sudden chill ran down his spine and he crouched down onto all fours. This was no time to be arguing with himself. Something was leading him and he didn't intend to waste it. With predatory grace he crawled into the dark hole. His senses razor sharp and primed. Not for danger, but for his prey.

As silently as a shadow, Izuku crept through the vertical maintenance shaft. He couldn't tell what he was following specifically, but he knew he was getting closer. Unhampered by the pitch darkness, he glided through the vents unseen and unheard by the clumsy humans around him. He passed by a hundred different openings, leading to a hundred different rooms, filled with untold masses of people, any one of which could have been his target but he ignored them all. Occasionally a waft of air would rattle through the vent, stirring a gentle cloud of dust motes in its wake. He would stop and breathe in. What was that flavour? Was it dried blood? Was it sweat? He himself could not tell, but it was becoming stronger.

Izuku had never felt this anticipation before, this pressure! He had given himself over to instinct, his genius intellect overruled by the inhuman creature inside of him. The other half of his namesake, the spider.

The air was thick with emotion. So thick it almost made him gag. He passed over desperate families, bickering neighbours, philosophising junkies, screaming madmen, and the broken. The stench of fear and sadness was intoxicating; dangerously sweet. Occasionally he would detect an earthy almost mouth-watering aroma that sent tremors racing through him. Just a little further.

Without realizing, he began to move faster. The air was getting fresher, the taste sharper. He was so close now. Slowly he picked up a new sound, a rhythmic and slow thumping. It was the growing sound of a heartbeat. It was slow and steady. Unaware. At ease.

He moved as close to the sound as he could. Pressing his ear against the wall he could hear breathing, a whetstone pass over metal, the crackling static of a muted television. His target was on the other side of the wall.

Realigning his body so he faced towards the sound, he gripped the concrete around him as tightly as he could. He tensed his muscles causing them to bulge and flex as power built throughout his body. Bracing himself, he leapt. The concrete wall exploded in front of him, rebar bending like plastic as he shot forwards with explosive force.

Amidst the shower of concrete fragments, he saw a man's face, his eyes widening in surprise, a gleaming sword in his hands. The concrete had slowed Izuku, but he was still a blur of motion. Before the man could even adjust himself, Izuku was upon him. With contemptuous ease he grabbed his sword arm and squeezed, crushing his bones.

In that same quarter second, Izuku kicked the man high in his thigh. The man flew backward, the skin on his arm tearing free where Izuku still gripped him. Tumbling end over end, the man smashed through a tool bench, scattering tools and scrap metal across the room before sliding to a standstill near an empty window.

Izuku felt his perception speed up again as the concrete shards fell on the floor. While the man lay struggling, he quickly took in his surroundings. Unlike the rest of the tower, this room was cleared of the layers of grime and filth that seemed to ooze from the walls. Besides cinderblock shelves piled high with books, there was little furniture. A simple but tidy stilted bed lay in one corner, opposite a rack full of deadly looking knives and blades. Amongst the ruins of the workbench Izuku spotted disassembled electronics. A police scanner perhaps?

Izuku cleared his head. He wasn't finished yet.

He strode over to the crippled man who was now fumbling with his sword arm, desperately trying to transfer the blade from his mangled right hand to his left. Before he could unclench his fingers from the handle however, Izuku kicked aside his left hand and stepped on his wrist, pinning him to the floor. The man snarled, though with pain or rage Izuku couldn't tell.

Izuku studied the man. He had long black hair, loosely swept up into a ponytail and chiselled well defined features alongside hard, piercing eyes. He would have been quite handsome if not for the mangled lump of scar tissue where his nose once was. He gave the impression of someone who offered few compromises and asked for little in return.

The two looked at each other for a moment before Izuku broke the silence.

'Stain.'

Stain struggled to push himself up on his elbows, but his body was too damaged. In a huff, he collapsed on his back, gasping.

'How did you find me?' he asked, wheezing.

Izuku was silent for a moment. He had no answer for him.

'Does it really matter?'

Stain grimaced as he adjusted himself.

'No. I guess not. I take it you're here because of those criminals I killed? I get it. I can see now that you're quite young, you haven't realized the real nature of the city. I-'

'Just stop.' Izuku said, 'I've spoken with Knuckleduster. I already know about your crusade. I'm not interested in your motives or your narcissistic ideology. Let's not pretend that this is about anything more than you and me.'

Stain grunted in acknowledgement and Izuku scowled under his mask. Stain was remarkably composed for someone with a crushed arm and twisted hip. His resoluteness was irritating.

'Its personal then.'

'Personal?' Izuku said incredulously. An image of Shocker suddenly flew in his mind. Either Stain was a complete fool or he was trying to get under his skin because he sounded genuinely surprised.

'Yes! Yes, it's personal! You killed fourteen people and made everyone think I'm to blame! Now when people think of me, they'll think I'm some sort of mass murderer like you!'

Stain looked on passively.

'They were criminals. If I didn't kill them, they'd be back on the street right now.'

'Maybe! But they didn't deserve to die!' Izuku yelled. In his anger he pushed down with his foot, crushing down on Stain's free hand. However, Stain continued to look on nonplussed. He seemed totally unconcerned for his safety.

'What are you going to do here, Spider-Man? I did what I felt was necessary, and so did you. We're enemies. We're supposed to be. I'm sure you've come across other killers besides me, was it personal for you then too?'

Izuku gritted his teeth, 'This. Is. Different!' he hissed, 'I'm trying to make the slums safer, not cause people to look over their shoulders in fear! All that does is put everyone on edge!'

'I suppose we'll have to agree to disagree then because I can guarantee you that all fourteen of those rats were irredeemable. The only message they respond to is fear of reprisal and you sticking them to a wall-'

'Shut up!' Izuku shouted, 'How can you be so stupid? Can't you see what you're doing? Rule by fear? What kind of world is that? You were a vigilante once, I know you admire All Might as much as I do. So how're you so fucked up? We have a responsibility to show people a better way!' Izuku said, leaning down and grabbing the man by the throat, 'You're just another psychopath!' he spat throwing him back down on the floor.

He watched as Stain winced and gasped in pain. Eyes rolling, he took a few shuddering breaths before looking back up at Izuku, 'I thought…I thought you didn't want to debate ideology?' Stain said before letting out a hacking laugh.

He made to grab him again, but Stain spoke before he could lay his hands on him. 'Wait. Look. Me and you? We're both just doing what we're supposed to be doing. You think it's personal - what I did to those nobody's - because you're trying to show everyone there is a better way. Good! I hope there is, but I know that's not the case. Otherwise you wouldn't be forced to hide yourself, would you? You're a good guy, but you're not considered a hero. I don't know what your reasons are, but there has to be something rotten about our society making you put that mask on. Meanwhile so-called pro heroes are inspiring the people with shampoo commercials and fast food.'

Stain jutted his chin out towards the window.

'Even before I killed those scum everybody already considered you a villain, Spider-Man. For all our differences, to the people we might as well be the same thing. Where's your righteous indignation for that injustice, hm?'

Izuku leaned back up. Shaking his head in resignation, he regarded Stain with something approaching pity.

'There is no point in talking to you, is there? Knuckleduster told me to let him handle you, but I guess the police will have to do.'

Stain smiled but was otherwise silent. With a flick of his wrist Izuku webbed Stain's legs and feet down to the concrete floor. After rummaging around the room for a short while, he found a small cache of burner cell phones. Stain had remained still during his search, perhaps he knew there was no point. He must have seen firsthand that struggling for freedom in the webs amounted to nothing last night. Instead he merely watched curiously while Izuku dialed the spider hotline. Izuku wondered how busy they were today. Maybe they had received a thousand calls about him running up the side of the building.

'Hello, this is th-' began a cool policeman's voice, but Izuku interrupted him.

'Yeah, hi it's me. I'm in the Grey Towers, the one on 72nd and Prosperity, the uh…' Izuku was silent as he counted the floors from the neighbouring Grey Tower, '…43rd story, on the north east side. Stain's here to by the way. Me and him have been having a party and he needs a ride home.'

'Sir, it is a felony to impersonate a known villain for the purposes of mischief. If you-'

'Well you'd better come and arrest me then. Oh, and incidentally Stain is the guy who killed those fourteen people, not me.'

'Sir, I-'

Izuku turned off the phone and gave himself a stretch. He'd made a hell of an entrance, but next time maybe he would have to consider climbing through the window instead of jumping through six inches of reinforced concrete.

'I'll probably get the death penalty you know.' Stain called over.

Izuku looked over at him and sighed. He probably would, but that was the last thing he wanted to be thinking about.

'I doubt it. Any sane person can see you're crazy.' Izuku said wearily.

Stain didn't reply. The two waited in silence while the sun continued to creep down to the horizon. Eventually Izuku's spider sense alerted him of several men wearing combat boots stealthily moving through the stairwell nearby.

'Well, they're here.' Izuku said quietly.

Stain craned his neck over his shoulder and paused, as though listening.

'Yeah... I believe so. You'd better run, they might confuse us.' Stain said in an oddly upbeat tone.

Izuku turned towards the destroyed concrete wall and began to walk away. Before he could exit however, Stain called out to him.

'Goodbye, Spider-Man.'

Out of habit Izuku waved over his shoulder and left.

Upon arriving home he found that his mom had indeed made Katsudon, and the two attempted to enjoy themselves before the big day tomorrow. However, try as they might, their conversation was strained and stinted. Izuku spent most of the night wide awake, staring up at his All Might posters. He couldn't help but think about what Stain had said. How many other people like him had there been over the years? Did the good get mixed in with the bad like Stain?

He hardly slept and he got up from bed as the sun rose. That morning his mom wished him luck before tearfully hugging him goodbye. The whole commute to UA he was bombarded with advertisements for the Sports Festival while everyone on the train excitedly yammered away about the upcoming events. More than a few people noticed his gym bag and guessed he was a student but thankfully they didn't approach him. Unless you were in class 1-A or 1-B, you were just another extra as Bakugo would have put it.

Once he had arrived at school, Izuku joined up with the rest of the class in their homeroom where he found all his classmates nervously talking to one another. Before they knew it, Power Loader arrived and they were instructed to change into their gym uniforms and proceed to the UA stadium. The moment had come.