I do not own BNHA or its characters.
Enjoy Chapter Four of "Control"
Cowritten and proofread by aoimikans on Tumblr.
On Track
"William Howard Wright," he flashed his pass to the evidence technician, "I need the Yagi-Rishi case files and evidence."
The young evidence technician adjusted her large, round glasses and squinted at the pass. After a moment of consideration, she nodded and pressed the lock release with a polite smile.
The lock clicked with a loud buzz, and William yanked the heavy door open.
"Noriko Shuuka," the technician introduced herself, bowing slightly. Her shoulder-length, tightly curled brown hair bobbed about her face, "You're with the visiting team?"
"I am," William echoed her bow.
"I figured," she said, "You all are the talk of the precinct."
"Oh?" William quirked an eyebrow at the small young woman. "Do I want to know?"
"It's not that interesting," Shuuka deadpanned with a shrug. "We just don't get international teams often, and people enjoy a fresh conversation topic."
William huffed but smiled politely. His quirk, Aura Sight, pulsed pleasantly at the back of his eyes. The black aura of truth overlaying the image of the woman remained constant.
A refreshingly honest person, he thought as he followed behind her.
"Just over here," Shuuka said, turning around the last set of shelves, "Yagi… Yagi.. Ya- Ah, here." She reached up, standing on her tiptoes, and pulled down a white, cardboard box. Something metallic inside rattled.
"You think you can hold two of these? There are three boxes total," Shuuka passed the heavy box to William.
"I can manage," William said, shifting the box in his arms lower so the technician could stack the second box on top. "Thank you."
Shuuka pulled down the last box and lead William to the front. Gently placing her box onto a dolly, she gave it a pat.
"You can use this to take the boxes," she said, taking the top box from William and placing it beside the first, "Let me grab the proper forms, and you can be on your way."
William signed the boxes out of evidence and rolled the dolly toward his team's office. Ringing phones and conversations buzzed in the background as he passed through the police bullpen. One officer led a woman handcuffed toward her own desk.
"I'm telling you, I don't know how trigger got in my purse!" the young woman exclaimed, wriggling against the officer's firm grasp. "It's not mine!"
William grimaced at the woman's lies. White light swirled around her, growing brighter as she spewed falsehood after falsehood. Pain prickled at the back of his eyes as he hastened away. Gritting his teeth, he dug into his jacket pocket and pulled out an orange pill bottle. Shaking out two pills, he tossed them into his mouth and swallowed them dry. He stuffed the bottle back in his pocket as he shoved the conference room door open.
"Welcome back, Will," Vera Lang said cheerfully. Her fingers danced back and forth across her braille terminal as she read the digitized files on her laptop.
William grunted in reply, making a beeline for the coffee pot. He poured himself a mug, sighing into the pleasant steam rising from its contents.
Bellamy shot him a concerned look, "Are you alright? You're irritated."
Snorting and taking a long swig from his mug, William nodded.
"A criminal playing dumb," he said simply, rubbing at his eyes. The prickling sensation always lingered after witnessing a falsehood. On the bright side, there had only been one. Had there been more or, God forbid, a roomful, a little prickling would be the least of his problems.
Bellamy nodded in understanding, lifted an evidence box and removed the lid. He shifted through its contents and passed a couple files to Alba and Mary.
"Find anything from the digital files?" William asked, setting his mug down at his place at the table.
"An estimated timeframe of the abduction which matches with our information regarding the presumed mugging, a link to another case involving the homicide of one Hibiki Genji," Vera listed, patting the Genji casefile box sitting beside her, "and a record of operations that took place with pro-heroes searching for All Might. Most of the heroes were his co-workers from U.A. Hero Academy."
"Makes sense considering they wanted to keep things close to the vest," Mary chipped in. "Especially with all the bad press the school has been getting recently." At the odd look she got from Alba, she shrugged, "I like to keep tabs on U.A. Watching the Sports Festival is kind of a tradition in my family."
Alba clicked her beak thoughtfully, "I suppose close friends and peers would help keep news from getting out. There was enough uproar in reaction to his retirement alone."
William nodded absently, "So, no mention of anything that would imply Bad Bad was involved?"
Bellamy shook his head, "So far, no."
Damn it. William sighed, brushing his hand over his breast pocket, right above his heart, and the small photograph tucked inside it.
"There's no such thing as a dead end, Wright." His mentor's laugh echoed through his mind, "Maybe a split end, but if you look hard enough, you'll find a connection."
"Keep looking," William said, earning a chuckle from Vera and smiles across the table. Returning his attention to the box in front of him, he dug to the bottom. Curiosity piqued, he pursed his lips and pulled out a handheld recorder. Sitting back and plugging in his personal set of earbuds, he prepared a notepad and pressed play.
"If at any point you need to take a break -" Detective Tsukauchi's voice sounded tinny in William's ears. There was a rustling of cloth and faint background noise… Beeping?
"I'm alright." A man's voice, low and a bit raspy. So different from his hero persona, All Might. "I'm not as fragile as I look, Tsukauchi."
The detective in the recording snorted with humor.
So, this is Yagi. William thought.
He jotted down quick notes as the interview continued.
"...Was she the only person you saw?"
"No. There were two others. All for One, the villain from the Kamino Ward incident, and this young man, Isamu Sato. He was coerced into working with his supervisor, Inoshita, and the villain, who Isa- ah, Sato- only knew as," A slight pause, "Sensei…"
The tape continued to roll, but William wasn't listening. He was staring at the words written on his notepad.
ALL FOR ONE.
A title only heard in whispers of fear or reverence. Old. That name is old.
A shudder ran down his spine, and he shook himself, pressing rewind. He hit play and heard the detective continue.
"What were the roles of the three?"
There was a shuffling movement, a quiet thump.
"To be brief, All for One provided the quirks forced -"
William's brows furrowed as he tried to focus in on the background noise during another long pause. Forced? Quirks?
"Do you need a moment?" Detective Tsukauchi asked softly, a slight crackle muffled the speaker.
A hand brushing over the mic, perhaps.William pushed against the earbud, listening intently.
"Just growing pains. All for One provided the quirks forced into my system. Inoshita personally administered one and regularly changed my IV solution. Nurse Sato was made to deliver meals and ensure that I survived the quirks that put a greater strain on my body."
William blinked, pressing pause.
What?
He pulled out an earbud, "Mary, pass me the photos we showed Tsukauchi."
Mary raised an eyebrow, setting aside her papers.
"Sure thing, here," she said and passed along the folder she pulled from her bag.
William stared at the photos, and the detective's pitch black aura resurfaced in his mind's eye, "There's been a misunderstanding. The man in the first and last photo is Toshinori Yagi."
"Quirks…" he muttered softly. He hadn't really believed…
"Got something?" Bellamy asked.
"I might… One moment." William said, almost breathless. A shaky smile pulled at his lips as he pressed play.
"Survive?" Tsukauchi sounded… worried.
William gripped his pen tightly as he waited for Yagi to reply.
"The tail quirk-" His eyes shot to the second photo, "-added a significant amount of body mass… Without that young man, I would not have lived through the change."
William grinned, "We have him."
Genji looked up, pale, "Are you sure?"
"I'm certain," William nodded, predatory glee bubbling in his chest, "Big Bad was here. And - And Montgomery's quirk theory was correct. We have our living proof." He smacked the second photo as a laugh escaped him.
Eleven goddamn years… He pat the photo in his breast pocket, But you were right.
He carefully pulled out the earbuds and set the recorder on the table, speaker up.
"Listen to this."
The whole dorm smelled of curry. It brought a smile to Toshinori's face as the elevator door opened to the first floor. Adjusting the strap of his gym bag on his shoulder, he looked down at his phone as it buzzed.
Power Loader sent his reply:
[Yes, I can meet you at the faculty gym. Let me just gather some measuring supplies.]
[Fantastic!] Toshinori quickly texted back, [I'm on my way now.]
He looked up just in time to see a green mop of hair disappear around the corner and into the kitchen.
"Midoriya, my boy!" Toshinori called out. He chuckled at the sudden thumping scramble of footsteps as the boy rushed back around the corner.
"Yes?" Izuku asked. He was dressed in his running clothes, much like Toshinori was now.
"Heading to the training fields?" Toshinori asked, approaching him.
"Y-yeah! I was just grabbing my water," the boy gestured to the fridge with his thumb.
Toshinori nodded, "I'm headed that direction myself. Why don't you grab your water and walk with me?"
Izuku blinked up at him, brows raised, and nodded, "Sure!"
Toshinori could have sworn he saw the telltale light of One for All as Izuku dashed to the fridge and back, water bottle in hand. He smiled and led the way to the front doors.
The day was bright despite the thin layer of overcast clouds. Blue sky peeked between great swaths of grey. A cool wind brushed over Toshinori's skin, rustling his sweatpants and t-shirt.
I should have grabbed a jacket, he thought before remembering none of his jackets were tailored. Regardless, being outside felt … He didn't have the words.
Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, smiling at the cool, crisp air filling his lung.
He opened his eyes, blinking in the sunlight, and movement caught his attention. Izuku stretched his left arm and rubbed at his neck.
"How's your shoulder doing, my boy?" Toshinori asked quietly.
Izuku quickly pulled his hand away from his shoulder, "It's fine! Really," He took a deep breath and sighed, "It just tingles, but that's Recovery Girl's healing side effect really. Um, but you'd probably know that."
Toshinori chuckled, "Oh, would I?"
Izuku's face flushed red, and he bowed his head, "I- um-"
Toshinori ruffled the boy's hair, grinning at his stammering.
"I'm teasing," he said with a laugh.
"O-oh," a small smile twitched on Izuku's face before it faded to something more serious, "How's your - um - How're you feeling?"
"Well," Toshinori adjusted his bag strap again and smiled down at Izuku, "I'm walking again, and I'm pleasantly full from earlier. Definitely a positive turn of events, considering..." His smile fell, and he looked the boy in the eye, "I want to apologize. You should have never seen that… I was hoping you - and your classmates, for that matter - would never have to see that side of my… condition. I," he traced the uppermost spike on his neck, "I should have taken proper precautions. If I had, you wouldn't have been hurt."
Because of me… Again.
Toshinori glanced at the scars lining Izuku's hands and arm, "For that, I am sorry."
Izuku looked up at him, a pensive frown on his face. Then he bowed and shook his head, "Thank you. It's really not your fault though..."
A small smile softened Toshinori's expression, and he clapped a hand on Izuku's shoulder. "I also want to thank you for listening this morning. Everyone's acceptance," he paused, searching for the right words, "It helps."
Izuku grinned, eyes a little watery, "I'm glad to hear it!"
For a short distance, they walked in comfortable silence. Toshinori's tail found its way around Izuku's waist, giving it a small squeeze before swinging back into place.
Rubbing his stomach, Izuku laughed, "Does your tail still have a mind of its own?"
"Of course," Toshinori said, swatting the boy's back with his tail. He darted to the side with a laugh when Izuku attempted to catch it. The boy righted himself too slow, and Toshinori snagged him, holding him against his side with the crook of his elbow.
Izuku sputtered and hopped along with Toshinori's long strides, and Toshinori shot him a cheeky grin, suppressing the laughter bubbling in his chest.
"So…" Izuku said between a small hop and a skip in his uneven gait, "What's on today's training menu?"
A sudden overwhelming sense of familiarity brought a wide smile to Toshinori's face.
"What have you worked up to?" he asked, looking down at the boy trapped against him.
Izuku smiled proudly, "A mile warm up, no quirk. Six mile run at five percent. Three miles at eight percent. A mile cool down, no quirk. Weightlifting with and without One for All. Cementoss built a fairly simple obstacle course, and I try to complete it three or four times as fast as I can. It changes every week, and sometimes he'll offer to change it while students run it. Adds adapting and quick thinking elements to the course."
Toshinori nodded as Izuku counted off the parts of his regimen on his fingers, smiling with enthusiasm. He hummed thoughtfully, and Izuku quieted. The boy looked up at him expectantly, and Toshinori playfully ruffled his hair earning himself a small squawk of protest.
"Not bad, my boy," Toshinori's tail swung cheerily as Izuku sputtered and squirmed his way out of Toshinori's headlock, blushing to his ears.
"Sounds like you've got your own menu in order," Toshinori grinned as they reached the training field and gave the boy a small push from behind "Go on then, I'm off to meet Power Loader. Your warm up and cool down are important, so make sure to do them properly."
Izuku nodded, smiling wide, "Right! See you later, All Might!"
The tip of Toshinori's tail flicked with his amusement as the boy dashed off.
The faculty gym was large, much like the rest of U.A. The building had once been an armory and used for training young military officers before the founders of U.A. bought the property around it. Its rectangular base and high, curved roof was large enough to house a small blimp, though it never did in its history - at least, not to Toshinori's knowledge.
He pulled open one of the many doors lining the sides of the old brick building and stepped inside. Immediately, Toshinori was greeted with the smell of rubber, dusty heating vents, linen-scented cleaning solution, and sweat. It was warm, familiar, and sent a pleasant rush of renewed energy through his long limbs. He chuckled at himself as his tail swung excitedly. Dropping his gym bag and slipping the prototype sandals from his feet, he jogged onto the track.
Toshinori carefully sat and stretched as Recovery Girl showed him.
"All Might!"
Twisting in place, Toshinori raised a hand in greeting, "Good morning, Power Loader."
Higari Maijima was out of his mechanical suit, instead wearing his casual clothes, a grey shirt and a pair of thick, tan work pants dotted with welding burns. Behind him, he rolled one of his mobile tool cases.
"Good afternoon," he said, rolling his case up to a bench by the track. Maijima grinned as he came to sit near Toshinori, giving him enough space to swing his long tail around to stretch it, "You're looking better."
"I'm getting there," Toshinori said with a grunt, nearly folding himself in half to touch his clawed toes. New muscles pulled, but he couldn't help grinning at the familiar ache. "Working my way up to running again."
Maijima hummed thoughtfully, "The prototype shoes working at all?"
"They're a bit loose," Toshinori admitted, "Slides a bit."
"I see," the inventor tapped his chin, "Maybe something more form fitting. May I?" He gestured to Toshinori's feet. "I want to do some more measurements."
Toshinori nodded, shifting to face Maijima. Pulling Toshinori's foot into his lap and starting from his hock, Maijima stretched measuring tape across each joint.
Maijima muttered under his breath, "Your claws present the biggest issue, but one I've worked with before…" he wiggled his own fingers, blunt iron claws flashing in the sunlight streaming through the large windows. He pressed the pad on the ball of Toshinori's foot, watching as his toes curled before spreading each and examining the partial webbing between them. "In warmer weather, I would say your pads would be fine barefoot - though etiquette demands footwear. Hm. Do you have a preference where style is concerned?"
Toshinori shrugged, "Just something comfortable that won't overheat. So, breathable material. That may be too much to ask, though."
"Not at all," Maijima replied, "Breathable material that's strong enough to withstand pressure from your claws. I may have just the thing back in my workshop."
Toshinori grinned, "Only if it's not too much trouble."
Maijima moved to wave him away, but he paused, "Ah, multiple pairs are a given, but having a separate athletic pair will definitely be useful. If you don't mind, would you allow me to observe how you run? To see how flexible the material will need to be."
Toshinori's ears perked, and his legs itched to move. Running.
He nodded.
Maijima pulled his gear from the track and dusted off his pants, "Alright. Whenever you're ready."
Toshinori pushed himself to stand, shifting from all fours to two as quickly as he could.
He walked to the starting line, the rubber path felt rough against his toes. The track stretched out ahead of him and he took a slow, deep breath. His legs tensed and his tail whipped behind him. Claws digging against the track, Toshinori leapt forward. He started at a fast jog, feet thumping against the track and getting a feel for his stride. It was longer, bounding and pressing forward. His heart pounded, strong in his chest, as his body warmed to the movement.
He sucked in another deep breath and let it loose, charging ahead.
His mind felt so clear.
Grinning, Toshinori sped up, arms pumping at his sides and tail curving as he made the wide turn of the track. His breath puffed around his face, blood roaring in his ears.
Faster.
He ducked his head, pumping his arms - almost leaping through the air.
Faster!
His chest burned, and his back muscles pulled. Bending forward, he relieved the strain, grinning ear to ear.
He loped along the track, wrists and arms bending - softening each impact. The sidelines blurred with his speed. Focusing on his breaths, his steps fell into an easy rhythm - One, two, in. One, two, out. Nice and even.
Reaching the turn and digging his right hand into the ground, he -
He blinked, noticing the track inches from his nose, and jerked back.
Shit!
His tail thrashed as he stumbled through the turn, hands and feet scrabbling for purchase.
Shit-shit-shit!
His foot crashed against the back of his arm, and he tumbled to the ground. Toshinori grit his teeth as he ducked into a roll and slid across the track. When he came to a stop, he coughed, tasting copper.
Rolling with a groan, Toshinori sat up on his haunches and rubbed at his scarred side.
"Ahh," he hissed through his teeth, "That smarts."
A sharp pain pricked the back of his neck. He quickly brushed through the mane and felt around his third spike. It was still there - loose, but still there. Toshinori breathed a sigh of relief. He would hate to have to tell Isamu he'd already knocked it out.
"All Might!" Maijima jogged across the track and came to a stop beside him, "Are you alright? That was quite the tumble. Not used to running on all fours, huh?"
Toshinori's ears drooped and he rubbed his palms together, grateful for the thick calluses on his palms built up over years of hero work.
"I-uh, no," he frowned at his claws. A few of the caps had slipped off.
Just different, that small mantra repeated quietly in the back of his mind, Just different.
"All Might, it just so happens that we have several students who do the same. One of which walks and runs as a quadruped full-time," Maijima smiled down at All Might and held out his hand.
Toshinori took it and let his peer tug him up to stand.
"I've got something for you," Maijima said, beckoning Toshinori to follow. He led him to his tool case, opened it, and dug through it. "Recovery Girl mentioned the dual nature of your stride, and I figured you might be able to use a pair of these."
From the case he pulled a pair of fingerless gloves. Maijima handed them over, smiling as Toshinori curiously turned them about and prodded them with his claws. Thick, tough pads were sewn into the palms of the gloves.
"They're running gloves," Maijima explained simply when Toshinori gave him a questioning look. He grinned a toothy grin, eyes sparkling from behind his long, shaggy bangs, as Toshinori carefully slipped them on and flexed his fingers.
"They'll help grip the ground during those turns," Maijima continued, "There are also a few running videos I know of that could help you figure out how to steer with that long tail of yours. If you're interested, that is."
Toshinori's tail swayed thoughtfully, and he nodded, "I think I'd like that."
Maijima smiled contently, then suddenly jolted, "Oh!" He bent and dug into his tool case, "Nearly forgot. I noticed you used to do a fair amount of boxing in here, but I imagined your claws would make it difficult to make a fist." He pulled something from the case, "And I made something for that."
Toshinori stared down at the gloves Maijima held out and grinned.
Since listening to the taped interview, William's team worked with a feverish energy, searching for any and all mention of All for One. The Emperor of Darkness whose name was only whispered by the few foolhardy enough to cave during interrogation.
Their "Big Bad."
Arch Montgomery had been one of many to go after the man called All for One.
"Yes," Montgomery had said so often, looking at William over his thick-rimmed reading glasses, "All for One is as much of a man as you or I."
William still remembered the late nights searching for whispers of his name on the wind, pouring over books and police records, following the trail of bodies he and his subordinates left behind.
For a retired history professor, Montgomery had a surprising number of contacts and more energy than men half his age. He kept in near-constant touch with dozens of investigators, private detectives, and police worldwide.
It had been a woman from Uruguay who theorized that All for One was merely a title, passed down from person to person. While some quirks provided longevity, it seemed unlikely that such a quirk would make the man live for generations. Especially not with the horror stories from scant witnesses. They spoke of a man in a suit with a highly destructive quirk, though the exact nature of said quirk was never consistent.
"So, naturally, Lucia believes that there is no consensus on All for One's quirk because there is not only one quirk - There is not only one man," Montgomery had said in his London office, reading the email Lucia had sent him. "All for One is both a man, or perhaps a woman, and a legacy. A title." He gently tapped his bourbon glass, leaning back in his wooden desk chair, "An interesting theory."
A theory William - a man in his early thirties at the time - was quick to accept as the most obvious answer to the mystery of All for One's apparent longevity.
Montgomery… had not been so quick to accept that answer. His own theory was born of the mad ravings of a quirkless man.
All for One was a man who stole quirks away.
"There are too many different stories." He rambled, pacing the floor of his library and leaning heavily on his cane, "Distinctly different accounts with contradictory quirk descriptions!" Montgomery ran a hand through his usually impeccably combed white hair. "Think, Will! Think! There are at least forty descriptions of the same man with different quirks."
"Maybe you should lie down," William had cautioned, holding out his hands.
"I've not gone senile, Will! Do not-" Montgomery collapsed then, cane slipping and clattering across the floor.
William had to keep him in the house and using his oxygen tank, not that the retiree thanked him for it.
Stubborn old man.
"Wright?"
William blinked, looking up and tucking the small photo into his breast pocket. Bellamy stood beside him, another file in his hands. His kind face crinkled with worry, but he kept his empathic observations to himself.
"Detective Tsukauchi is here," he said, giving William's shoulder a covert squeeze.
"Thank you," William said quietly, sending a significant look to Mary. She quickly flipped through the small pile of papers and pulled out the transcripts of the Yagi interview.
"Good morning," Tsukauchi greeted them with a respectful nod. His dark eyes swept over the room and halted at the boxes of evidence. "Already hard at work then?"
"We took the liberty of going through the Yagi case files to better familiarize ourselves with them," Vera Lang said, smiling in the direction of the detective.
Mary handed William the transcripts, and he turned to Tsukauchi.
"I do have a few questions regarding your talk with Yagi," William said, moving to stand beside the detective. He tapped down on the name in question, asking, "This nurse, Isamu Sato, he was integral to keeping Yagi imprisoned. Why hasn't be been detained?"
Detective Tsukauchi frowned slightly at the page before moving to the coffee machine and filling his mug, "He was integral in Yagi's escape, and as per Yagi's request any charges against him have been dropped."
William hummed, turning to look at his own case files. He pulled out a stack of photos, spreading them across the table, "Nurse Sato was in an out of that building the most. Here, we have several pictures and videos of him carting supplies into the building - and yes, I made sure to double-check his identity. In fact, he's the one who drew our attention. Are you certain you have all of the facts?"
Tsukauchi glanced over the photos, sipping from his mug.
"I trust Yagi's judgement," he said simply, the black aura around him unwavering, "However, I still intend to question him. He suffered grave injuries at the hands of Yagi's captor, and I've been waiting for his doctor's approval."
Trust him? All Might, the man who shined the brightest.
William frowned at the clear, black aura, "And you believe this nurse is without guilt? After what he put your friend through?"
Tsukauchi's shoulders stiffened.
Mary sighed as her plant withered in its jar on the table, and Bellamy shot William a stern look.
Then Tsukauchi straightened and turned, "I am sure Sato is convinced of his own guilt. He freed Tosh- Yagi. A man who did not feel guilt or acknowledge the wrongness of the situation would not have acted." His voice was even, expression firm, aura unchanged.
The corner of William's mouth twitched. Touché…
"Fair enough. I would like to be present when you interrogate Sato," William said with a pleasant smile, moving to the coffee machine and refilling his own cup, "Along with Genji, if you don't mind."
Tsukauchi took another sip of his coffee, eyeing William over the brim of his mug, and for a moment William envied Bellamy's insight.
Tsukauchi's stare remained blank, a well-practiced emotionless mask, "Alright. Prepare a list of questions you would like addressed, and have them ready by 4:00 sharp. I have business to attend to this afternoon, and I'll see if Sato is ready to be released from his doctor's care on my way back."
William nodded, "Sounds reasonable. Thank you."
BAP! Toshinori's gloved fists sent the punching bag swinging on its squeaky chain, Bap-bap! Bap-bap! Bap!
Shifting his stance with a couple featherlight steps and a sway of his long tail, he threw another hard punch. Bap!
Toshinori panted. Drenched in sweat, his shirt and ridged mane stuck slick to his back. Every fiber of his body ached and burned, and his scar twinged with effort.
He'd never felt better.
Shaking his head and blinking sweat from his eyes, Toshinori whipped his tail from side to side and struck the bag again.
"Your form is shit."
Toshinori jolted at the gruff voice and turned -
"Gloves up!"
Toshinori twisted, arms up in a block. He stumbled back at a sudden impact on his forearms, claws digging into the padding on the floor, but he did not fall. He dropped his arms and looked down in surprise.
"Torino?!"
Gran Torino frowned, giving Toshinori a careful once-over and leaning to the side to look at his swaying tail. Toshinori's tail stilled and hesitantly tucked closer to his legs.
"Reflexes are fine," Torino huffed, crossing his arms, "A bit slow."
"A bit- ?" Toshinori's hackles bristled a little apprehensively, but he grinned, "Are you sure you're not the one slowing -oof!"
He landed on his side in a tangle of long limbs and wheezed, clutching his abdomen.
Gran Torino stood above him, a stern frown on his masked face, "I'm sure."
"Go easy on him, Torino," a familiar voice called out.
Toshinori grunted and waved weakly to Naomasa, who raised his hat in greeting.
"You couldn't have warned me?" he shot an accusing gaze at the detective, though his tail thumped happily against the mat.
Naomasa shook his head with a grin.
"He knew better not to," Torino waved his hand carelessly.
Toshinori nodded, conceding to the fact. Rolling and pushing himself up, he sat back and stretched out his legs. His tail swung around and draped across his lap, tufted end flicking nervously.
"What brings you to U.A.?" he asked, not missing the hard glare Torino was giving each change.
"I can't check on my dumbass student from time to time?" Torino grumbled.
Ah… Toshinori's eyes widened marginally, He was worried.
"Tsukauchi and I were here to see Nedzu. Don't get any ideas!" Torino scolded, pointing sternly at Toshinori's wagging tail tip.
But you didn't have to visit me here.
Toshinori grinned, tail wagging faster, "Good to see you too."
Torino bristled and stalked away, "Yeah yeah, you're fine. Don't know why I bothered dropping by. I'll meet you by the car, Tsukauchi."
Toshinori quirked a lopsided smile as his old teacher exited the gym, griping about youngsters giving him cheek.
Naomasa sat beside Toshinori on the mat, grunting softly as he did, "Torino's getting soft in his old age."
Toshinori whipped his head around, hackles bristling nervously.
"Don't let him hear you say that!" he said in a hushed voice, gesturing downward with his gloved hands.
Naomasa chuckled, leaning and bumping Toshinori's shoulder with his own. His laugh and the gesture soothed Toshinori's nerves and hackles.
"Feeling better?" Naomasa asked.
Toshinori nodded with a contented smile, "I was able to speak with Midoriya and his classmates about everything - well, nearly everything. They didn't need any gorey details. They've got enough on their plates as it is."
Naomasa hummed in agreement, "I'm glad."
"Me too," Toshinori's tail shifted and wound its way around Naomasa's abdomen.
Toshinori cleared his throat awkwardly, "Sorry, it does that," he said, the tips of his ears heating a little, "And you? How're you doing?"
Naomasa huffed a laugh, absently resting his hand on Toshinori's tail, "I'm alright. Doing better now that I've seen how much you've improved."
Smiling, Toshinori pulled off his boxing gloves and flexed his hands.
"You were right," he said.
Naomasa shot him a cheeky grin, "When am I not?"
"Shut up," Toshinori elbowed Naomasa, "I meant about the restlessness."
"That so?" Naomasa asked, tone suspiciously innocent, "So, just another thing I was right about then?"
Toshinori scoffed, then jolted when Naomasa gave the end of his tail a playful tug.
Naomasa grinned, but coughed when Toshinori gave his abdomen a squeeze. Dramatically flopping his back and patting Toshinori's tail, he wheezed, "I tap out!"
Toshinori snorted and unwound his tail from Naomasa's waist, "That tap out was too fast!"
Naomasa laughed, hat falling off, and rubbed at his belly, "Maybe I'm the one going soft."
Shaking his head, Toshinori barked a laugh, "You're fine the way you are."
Naomasa shook with laughter, rolling a bit on the mat before sitting up and pushing at Toshinori's shoulder.
"Hey! I mean it!" Toshinori grinned wide, "If you disagree, you could always train with me like old times."
"I might take you up on that," Naomasa said seriously, smiling.
For a moment, they sat in comfortable silence. Then Toshinori shifted, pulling up and resting his arms on his knees.
"So," he paused, rubbing at the back of his neck and tracing the spikes there, "What were you meeting Nedzu for?"
Naomasa sighed, picking his hat up from the mat and tapping it against his leg, "There are rumors that the Villain Alliance is on the move, preparing for something. We just had a standard, be on the look-out, meeting with Nedzu," he frowned, "Especially with the recent spike in media attention. I'm assuming you've seen the news?"
Toshinori grimaced, "I have. I need to write a press release to publicly address," he gestured to himself, "this. Though I am certain Nedzu already has something prepared."
"It would be like him," Naomasa said with a small nod. Then he glanced at Toshinori, a small frown pulling at the corner of his mouth.
"What is it?" Toshinori asked.
Naomasa's frown deepened and he furrowed his brows in thought, "Wright - he's with the international team - he went through the evidence, and he wants to interview you and nurse Sato. I'm here to pick up Sato, if Recovery Girl gives her leave, but… Something's off with Wright."
"Gut feeling?" Toshinori asked.
"Yes," he replied, dark eyes far off in thought, "I'm still not sure what his motives are."
Toshinori hummed, "Can you ask him?"
Naomasa snorted, "Oh, I've probed. He and his team are a rather secretive bunch, but Tsuragamae trusts them. They're not bad. Just… I suppose single-minded would be the word."
Toshinori nodded, "Do you know what they would want to question me about? Ah," he frowned, "More importantly, you will be the one to interview Isamu - ah, Sato - I assume?"
"Yes," Naomasa said, "I still lead the investigation, and the international team is technically under my supervision. Though Wright asked to sit in with one of his subordinates. I thought it'd be best to see for myself what they're after, so I agreed."
Naomasa shrugged, "That's all I have for now. I'll save your interview for a later date," he paused, glancing at Toshinori, "Unless you have more to add right now."
Toshinori shook his head, "No. Nothing you don't already know about." He paused, furrowing his brows and looking down at his claws, "There is something..."
Naomasa quirked an eyebrow, "What?"
"You remember the USJ Noumu? There were multiple sets of DNA in its body," Toshinori rubbed his palms together, then asked, "Would there be a way to find out where, or rather, who my quirks came from?"
Naomasa stared at Toshinori, looking a bit taken aback.
"I know where my spikes came from. Nurse Sato," Toshinori continued, gaze fixed on his claws as he fidgeted, "A student asked where the others came from. I suppose it piqued my interest, and…" he furrowed his brow, "I need to know, Naomasa. They're victims of All for One. I need to know their names."
Who they were… He ran his thumb over the claw on his forefinger. If… if they're still alive.
"Okay," Naomasa said.
Toshinori's ears perked as he turned to his friend, "Okay?"
Naomasa let his hand fall roughly on Toshinori's shoulder and gave it a squeeze.
"We'll find them," he promised, "If you come with me to pick up Sato, Recovery Girl could draw some blood I could take back to evidence with me. We can run it through our system and the quirk registry."
"Thank you," Toshinori sighed, a small smile brightening his features. He rocked back and pushed himself up to stand, pulling Naomasa up after him.
Naomasa paused, brushing off the seat of his pants, and gave Toshinori a cheeky smile, "You should probably hit the showers first. You reek."
Toshinori sputtered, and Naomasa barely ducked in time to avoid being swatted by Toshinori's tail.
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