One Day Later
(UA Sports Festival - Day 2 )
"Here you go."
The middle-aged man searched his pockets for his wallet. It took a moment. After all, these weren't his normal pants. Those were at the dry cleaners. But soon enough, he discovered what he was looking for. And after handing over the exact amount of money plus or minus a couple of yen, he grabbed the plastic-wrapped sandwich and decaffeinated soda off the counter, told the clerk to keep the change and walked through the doors and back onto the streets of Musutafu.
"What a day."
His messy blue hair, disheveled to the point one could successfully argue he hadn't taken a shower in weeks, stood out in a crowd. Gait unsteady, shoulders hunched and five-o'clock noticeable at just past twelve thirty in the afternoon, he tucked the sandwich underneath his arm. The UA sports festival was in full swing after a surprisingly popular first day. There was hardly anyone on the streets. Eyes hidden behind a pair of sunglasses and tie loosened so he could breathe, he began the long and boring walk back to Musutafu Community College.
Only someone was standing in his way.
"When you said you wanted to talk, I assumed you would attend my lecture on support gear development, then meet me afterwards," caught with his hand inside the metaphorical cookie jar, Aikuro Mikisugi's eyebrows rose over his sunglasses as the school-aged girl standing between himself and where he needed to go frowned, "Not interrupt my lunch break."
Ryuko ignored his sarcasm.
"Oh, boy, well, I suppose I have some time to talk," he really didn't. Between setting up the presentation involving volunteers possessing Heteromorphic Quirks and a few last-minute changes, he was a little strapped for time. But a quick look at his watch, which involved maneuvering his sandwich and soda, proved he'd wildly overestimated how long it would take to walk across town and get lunch, "There's a park near the community college. If you're willing to walk with me, we can talk about whatever you want over there. Sound reasonable?"
It took all of five minutes to reach the park he mentioned.
Freshly blossoming trees covered the park with shades of pink and red.
It was relaxing.
It was peaceful.
And downright miserable, hands tucked into her jacket, Ryuko desperately tried pretending she wasn't following some stranger through a mostly empty park, "Well?"
"Don't be impatient," sandwich in one hand and soda in the other, the man known as Mikisugi lazily shrugged, "There's still plenty of time for us to get to know each other."
"Get to know – " Ryuko stumbled mid-step, caught herself and promptly snapped, "This ain't a date!"
"Who said anything about a date?" as they passed a statue of All Might holding a globe in one hand, pigeons and assorted birds camping on its shoulders, Mikisugi's amusement was obvious, even if she couldn't see his face, "Hey, you're the one whose mind went straight to the gutter, not mine," tendrils of blood trickled between her fingers, which the crusty old teacher ignored, "Besides, you wouldn't hurt a defenseless old man over a bad joke, would you?"
"Depends on what you have to say," her own rhetorical question was accompanied by a not-so-rhetorical manifestation of her Quirk.
He was unfazed.
"Using your Quirk in public without a license?" there was something about his voice that didn't piss her off so much as make her question her sanity in following him, "Pretty risky. If someone saw you, you could get into serious trouble."
Scratch that.
She was pissed and questioning her sanity in following him.
"Oh, really?" begrudgingly, and with great restraint, Ryuko deactivated her Quirk, "Last I checked, using my Quirk to take down a creepy old man is perfectly legal."
A single blue eyebrow rose above the aviator sunglasses, "Geez, you really are scary, Matoi."
His sarcasm was dry enough to start a fire.
Without missing a step, Mikisugi sauntered towards an out-of-order fountain off the beaten path, leaves and branches clogging murky brown water and sat down, "Well, we're here and my lunch is getting cold. So…what do you want to know?"
"Let's start with the obvious," hands jammed inside her jacket, Ryuko glanced to the right, then the left, then snorted, "How do you know my dad?"
The man scratched his stubbled chin.
"Figured you'd ask that," he rubbed the back of his neck, "Well, do you want the long story or the short story?" it wasn't so much a question as asking for permission he didn't actually need, "It all started when I was but a humble graduate student at Tohoku University. Your father was my advisor. Even back then, his knowledge on Quirks was second to none. If you asked him a question about a Quirk, he'd have twenty different answers," a crinkle of plastic reached her ears when Mikisugi unwrapped his sandwich, "It wasn't easy. But if it weren't for your dad breathing down my neck twenty-four hours a day, I never would have earned my degree in mechanical support engineering."
An eyebrow rose as she absorbed his unkempt, unshaven and all-around unattractive appearance.
"Now, now, you shouldn't judge a book by its cover," turkey, ham and cheese were waved in her general direction, "After all, who do you think designed the Seki Tekko?"
"That was you?" disbelief tore its way out of her throat.
"I'm no high-order tailor, but I have a few tricks up my sleeves," his awkward smile was almost reassuring in the same way a rabid dog made you drop your guard, "When Isshin asked me to design a support item for you, I was honored. If only I'd known how difficult your Quirk was. I had to call several people and cash in some rather expensive favors to collect the necessary materials. Really expensive favors."
"Yeah, that's a real shame," ignoring her own stomach growling at the smell of his food, Ryuko rolled her eyes, "Can we get back on track?"
"Patience is a virtue, you know."
She ignored that.
"Well, after graduation and spending a couple of months traveling the country, I accepted an offer to work at I-Island while Isshin left Tohoku University to accept a research position at Revocs," the guy's chewing was almost obnoxious. Each bite slower than the last, "For a while I was content designing groundbreaking support gear. But then I met someone really special. And I realized spending twenty-three hours a day in a lab wasn't for me," he almost sounded proud of himself, "So, I handed in my resignation and moved back to Japan, got myself a job at Shiketsu High and, after only a couple of years, was promoted to head of their development studio. Pretty neat, huh?"
It wasn't neat because she couldn't care less.
Yet she pushed that aside to focus on the important questions, "Dad worked at Revocs?"
"Support development is a cutthroat business. If a company misinterprets how somebody's Quirk works – for example, creating fire versus heating the surrounding air – they can lose customers. Sure, Revocs was fine most of the time, but every now and then, someone with a Quirk like enhanced regeneration or petrification walks through the front door. That was when they'd call Isshin for a second opinion," his sandwich was little more than crumbs as he scratched his chin and stared sideways, "So, when your father decided to retire, you can guess Revocs wasn't thrilled. The way I heard it, his boss offered him quite a lot of money to stick around, but Isshin cared more about raising you than a cushy seven-figure salary."
Ryuko opened her mouth, thought better and looked away with a pout, "So, you seriously know nothing about anything?"
"I'm sorry I couldn't be more helpful, Matoi," shaking his head, Mikisugi offered an apology, "I'm just Isshin's former student. Not an underground vigilante or a disguised pro hero."
"Yeah, right," she muttered, annoyed by her treacherous brain imagining gun running around in spandex.
"But it's the truth – huh?" oblivious to what she was currently thinking, the half-dead professor looked at his cheap watch, which had a visible crack on the glass, "Time sure does fly when you're reminiscing about the past," groaning as he stood up, Mikisugi scratched someplace south of his back, "It's been nice chatting, Matoi, but I better get going. If I don't get back soon, someone might think I'd been kidnapped by a nefarious villain."
She'd long since stopped caring why the man said.
Which was her first mistake.
Because when she blinked, he was already on top of her.
"Remain calm," the way he whispered into her ear was downright flirtatious, "And act perfectly natural."
Caught by surprise, Ryuko tried backpedaling out of the situation only for her foot to catch against the edge of the fountain, sending her falling onto algae-covered stone, "N-Natural!?"
"That's right, the less noise, the better," she refused to believe it, but purple light was shining from his goddamn nipples, "As long as you remain calm, Fascination," with an impossible accent, he swept a hand through his hair, removing his sunglasses in the same motion, "Should keep our conversation private."
Blood gushed through her skin, solidifying into a sword which she immediately used to defend herself, "W-What the hell are you doing!?"
Mikisugi's smirk was almost seductive as he curled his fingers around her Quirk and gently pushed it away from his face, "Why, acting naturally, of course."
Eyes widening under the aggravating assault on her personal space, Ryuko reared one foot up and slammed it into the freaky bastard's stomach, "Nothing about this is natural!"
"Try not to raise your voice," as a middle-aged woman jogged down the sidewalk only a couple dozen meters behind him, engrossed in her music rather than the display unfolding in immediate view, the pervert sighed sensually as the top button of his shirt spontaneously unbuttoned itself, "It would be weird if someone saw us like this. An older man with a young and vulnerable teenager is perfect material for the tabloids."
Pop!
Another button popped open.
And she saw a nipple.
A blush quickly infected her cheeks while her arm slowly rotated counterclockwise , "F-Fuck you!" the pervert's head whipped sideways, courtesy of her misshapen sword impacting his face, "You keep strippin' and your shirt ain't the only thing coming off! Now start talkin' or start dyin'!"
"Geez, isn't that a little harsh?" his cheek was smushed yet the pervert was unfazed, "I promise I'll tell you everything you want to know. I just have to know one thing first."
"Oh, yeah?" she grabbed his tie and pulled him closer, "And what's that!?"
Inches from his face, close enough to smell his rancid breath, she found his scandalous smile anything but reassuring.
"Are you – " the pervert continued ignoring the blade poking at his neck and the tie she'd used to strangle him if he did anything remotely inappropriate, " – an avid reader?"
That was it.
She was finished.
But before she could turn the freak into a pincushion, he pulled a book out of nowhere, "The Three Musketeers by Alexandre Dumas, one of the greatest French authors of all time."
Pop!
Her blush deepened when another button on the pervert's shirt popped off, "Like I give a crap about a stupid book!"
"Aren't you at least curious?"
The sound of metal sung through the afternoon when she readjusted her grip on the sword, "I'm more curious about what's going to happen after I shove my Quirk up your ass!"
"For someone attending one of the most prestigious hero academies in the country, you're surprisingly unwilling to open your mind to new experiences," she almost stabbed him. It was touch and go. She wanted to stab him. Or, at the very least, beat him senseless since murder was unfortunately illegal, "Besides, this book belonged to your father," her Quirk, halfway transformed into a blunter form so she could bludgeon him, froze midswing, "He sent it to me a few weeks before his untimely passing."
Something like that would have normally been enough to make her reconsider turning his face inside-out.
But the light shining from the pervert's nipples overrode any possible mercy.
"Nice try," sarcasm gushed from her mouth as she twisted his tie and pulled him closer, "But just because you said it doesn't make it true."
"No, I suppose it doesn't."
There was something odd about the pervert's reaction, which was answered when he flipped open the front cover of the book, "Isshin's signature, on the other hand, makes it true."
"Anyone can forge dad's signature."
Mikisugi's face fell, "You really have trust issues, don't you?"
She deactivated her Quirk, pulling every last drop of blood back into her body so her fist was free to pound some sense into the bastard, "Says the exhibitionist."
"You, of all people, should know better than to judge a book by its cover."
Several things happened at once. Some of which Ryuko would never be able to explain to herself or anyone else. In a blur impossible to follow, the bastard rebuttoned his shirt, fixed his tie, un-swept his hair, regrew stubble and pulled out another pair of sunglasses, "For all you know, you might actually find it enjoyable," somehow freeing himself without so much as telling her fingers they were no longer holding him, the self-admitted exhibitionist waved over his shoulder, "Anyway, good luck with your studies, Ryuko. Stay in school and don't forget to brush your teeth."
Ryuko said nothing as the closeted pervert walked away like the last five minutes never happened.
Because what she wanted to say would have probably gotten her into a lot of trouble.
A bird chirped.
A handful of pigeons cooed on the nearby grass.
Several people walked by, including an old woman who offered a toothless smile she awkwardly returned before retreating in the completely opposite direction of her apartment, if only to avoid the possibility of running into the freak and his perverted glowing purple nipples.