The next day dawned miraculously clear for how dark it had been the night before. The alley
where they'd fought Stain had seemed a place of perpetual midnight, but the sun on Shouto's face as he woke from a light, fitful doze was warm and bright. As he looked around the room at his friends their cuts and bruises from the fight looked more severe in daylight, but that might have just been because they were covered in thick layers of bandages. The pad on his cheek felt heavy, and he felt the weight of it more keenly than he had felt the cut itself.
"Did you sleep Izuku?" Shouto asked, sliding his legs over the side of his bed so he could face the others.
"No, not really," Izuku admitted, in a subdued voice. He had been hurt the worst of all of them, but he was sitting up in bed, even if he was clearly trying not to jostle his injured leg.
"I figured," Shouto agreed. "Me neither."
"I slept great," Hitoshi chimed in, then stretched into a huge yawn. "Apparently all I need to sleep is to tire myself with complete, life-threatening terror."
"You picked a good career for it," Izuku pointed out, and Hitoshi and Iida both laughed lightly.
Shouto found himself smiling slightly as well. Leave it to Hitoshi to break the awkwardness of the moment with a joke, and Izuku to be there with the follow-through. Even with the bruise blossoming over half Hitoshi's face where he'd hit his head on the sidewalk when Stain had broken free of his capture weapon, and the damage to Izuku's leg from where Stain had jammed a knife into his calf, the two of them were in good spirits.
Izuku looked up at the ceiling contemplatively. "Thinking about that fight now, we did something pretty amazing."
"Yeah, I agree," Shouto replied.
"After everything that happened back there, it kinda feels like a miracle we're even alive," Izuku said, then looked down at his injured leg. "With my leg messed up, I was an easy target. He probably could have killed me if he really wanted-"
"Don't be dumb," Hitoshi cut him off. "He was going to commit a murder in that alley, and you stopped him. Whether he meant to murder you or someone else doesn't matter. You still won."
"We still won," Shouto corrected him.
Hitoshi looked over at him in surprise. "I meant you too-"
"No, I mean all of us," Shouto said, shaking his head but keeping eye contact with Hitoshi. "Every one of us in that alley had a part to play, you included. The victory belongs to all of us."
A blush stole across Hitoshi's cheeks, and he looked down. "I-"
"It's true," Iida interrupted, before Hitoshi could deny his involvement any further. "I can't . . . I owe all of you . . ."
Before Iida could finish the door to their hospital room slid open. Shouto and the others looked over to see Manual, Eraserhead and Junebug standing out in the hallway. Present Mic wasn't with them, but Shouto assumed he was still being treated elsewhere in the hospital. He probably wasn't fit to be out of bed and scolding his student just yet.
"So you're all awake," Aizawa said, glaring around the room with an eye of indiscriminate irritation, like he'd just walked in on the class and not one of them was in their proper seat.
Shouto bowed his head. "Junebug," he said respectfully.
"And Manual too," Iida said, real anxiety in his voice.
Nearer to the door, Hitoshi and Izuku both bowed their heads as well.
"I think it goes without saying that you're all in a lot of trouble," Aizawa went on. "Before I go into how UA is going to handle the consequences for your actions, the four of you have a visitor."
The three Pros filed inside, to make room for a fourth man who had been waiting just around the door. He was almost impossibly tall, towering over Aizawa and Manual, and barely able to fit through the door. He made an imposing figure in a sharp, tailored black suit, with a white tie with uneven black spots. The most striking thing about him though, was that his head was that of a dog.
"This is Hosu's Chief of Police, Kenji Tsuragamae," Aizawa introduced the man.
Immediately Shouto stood, and he saw Hitoshi and Iida do the same. Izuku tried to get up, but before he could get his feet on the ground Tsuragamae cut him off.
"No, please, stay seated, woof," he said.
Izuku hesitated, but in the end apparently decided against aggravating his injury and merely dangled his legs over the side of his hospital bed.
"So you're the UA students who brought down the Hero Killer, huh?" Tsuragamae began, with a carefully neutral tone. He sounded neither praising nor accusatory, and his dispassionate attitude put Shouto on edge.
The police chief came all this way. Shouto thought. Why?
"Stain has some serious injuries," he went on. "Electrical burns and several broken bones, not to mention the damage to his ears and his cranial nerves from a sound-based attack. Right now he's in the hospital under strict guard, woof."
Izuku made a small noise of apprehension, which Shouto was inclined to agree with. This did not sound like the lead-up to a congratulations.
"Here's a lesson you should have already learned," Tsuragamae continued. "When quirks became the norm, the police force sought to maintain the status quo. They decided we wouldn't use quirks
as weapons. That's when heroes came in. They could do what we couldn't, if they were licensed of course, woof."
Shouto's hands clenched into fists at his sides. If the chief was saying what it sounded like he was saying, Shouto didn't know how he was going to keep his anger in check.
"It would be impossible for the police to condone the use of deadly quirks," Tsuragamae told them. "After all we're here to stop such harm from being done. The only reason Pros can use their powers now is because of the strict code of ethics that the early heroes chose to abide by. That's why it's against the law for uncertified people to use their quirks to cause injury."
Shouto grit his teeth, feeling his lips pull back in a grimace. Was he honestly saying this? Was he going to tell them they should have done nothing? It was one thing to be scolded for going off alone and failing to follow instructions. It was quite another to imply that the act of defending their teacher was itself immoral.
"Whether you were up against the Hero Killer or not, none of you had the authority to harm the villain," Tsuragamae said. "That means the four of your, and your supervisors -- Present Mic, Eraserhead, Junebug and Manual -- should receive harsh punishments for this gross abuse of your powers."
Shouto opened his mouth to speak, ready to point out the obvious flaw in Tsuragamae's logic, but before he could do so suddenly another voice spoke first.
"But Izuku doesn't have any powers," Hitoshi said, sounding mildly confused.
All eyes turned to him, and Shouto shut his mouth in surprise. His anger had burned so hot he'd had to move or be scalded by it, but he had not expected support. Hitoshi spoke calmly, not at all as though he meant to argue. He was merely drawing attention to a point of uncertainty, and this seemed to throw the police chief off balance.
"Well," Tsuragamae blustered, "that's true, I suppose. Still he is a hero student, under direct supervision from Present Mic, and-"
"And Present Mic was there supervising," Hitoshi countered evenly. "I don't think failing to listen to a supervisor is against the law. The legal issue is that we used quirks when we weren't supposed to, but Izuku didn't use a quirk."
"He used a hero's support item," Tsuragamae shot back, but he was clearly uncertain. "That's considered the same as-"
"The force lance was built by Mei Hatsume," Hitoshi explained, voice still carefully placid, "who is not a certified designer of support items, so I'm not sure that anything she builds can be considered a real support item. Technically you could argue that even the attempt at developing something like a support item without a license is illegal, but she was under the supervision of Power Loader, and really all she did was put a taser in a metal rod."
"The taser discharges fifty thousand volts of electricity," Izuku piped up. "It's the same as a standard issue taser anyone could order online for basic self defense."
"That's enough you two!" Aizawa snapped, activating his quirk to heighten his glare. "Don't argue with the Chief of Police! He's trying to offer you an alternative to legal repercussions!"
Hitoshi cowered under Aizawa's gaze, but held his ground. "What legal repercussions? Izuku didn't break the law."
"But the rest of you did," Tsuragamae said, clearly trying to regain control of the situation. "However, any punishment would only be necessary if this went public. If it did you'd probably be applauded by citizens everywhere, but there's no way you could escape from being reprimanded."
"Reprimanded for saving our teacher?" Shouto burst out, unable to contain himself any longer. "If Iida hadn't stepped in Present Mic would have been murdered, and if not for Midoriya both of them would be dead! We were in Hosu to apprehend the Hero Killer and we acted under the supervision of the leader of the operation! Are you saying we should have stood there and watched people die?"
"So it's OK to break the law as long as it goes your way?" Tsuragamae said coldly.
"Again," Hitoshi put in, "it's not against the law to tase someone, and given that the leader of the op was present, I don't know that you can really say we used our quirks illegally either. I only used my quirk on a consenting schoolmate and teacher, and Shouto never even got in a clean-"
"Be that as it may, it is the official stance of the police department that actions such as yours should be punished!" Tsuragamae's voice was nearly a growl, but then took a breath and straightened his jacket. "On the other hand, we could say Endeavor saved the day. We could pretend you weren't involved."
"No way," said Hitoshi immediately.
"Problem Child," Aizawa said warningly.
"No way!" Hitoshi repeated, more heatedly now that he had been at any point in the conversation. "I'll take the punishment, whatever legal consequences you want, but I'm not giving credit to that scumbag."
For a few moments Shouto was completely floored. He himself had wanted to say something similar, but he wasn't about to put his own desire not to boost his father's reputation above the other three and the potential consequences for them. But here was Hitoshi ready to stick his neck out, ready to tank any damage to his new, fragile reputation, if it meant that Shouto's father wouldn't get the credit.
"I'd urge you to reconsider," Tsuragamae told him. "I don't want to damage any promising young careers. Legal action would have to be taken."
"Not against Izuku," Shouto argued, drawing the attention of the adults onto himself. "He doesn't have a quirk, so there's no interpretation of the law that can say he broke it. Give him the credit, say it was him and Present Mic, his supervisor. Stain's concussive injuries and electrical burns support that story; if you say it was Endeavor the lack of burns makes it suspicious."
"I believe Endeavor's already told the press he was the one who defeated the Hero Killer," Tsuragamae protested, clearly wrong-footed by Shouto's vehemence.
Shouto's heart leaped. If Endeavor had already told the press he was the hero who apprehended Stain, then being contradicted by the police department didn't look good for him. It was at best self-aggrandizement, the actions of a social-climber and a gloryhound. At worst though, it was fraud, an open attempt to collect money for the capture of the Hero Killer when it had not been his takedown. This could be enough to open an investigation against the Endeavor Agency or even Endeavor specifically. This could be the break that they'd been waiting for.
"Has the police department given a statement?" Izuku asked suddenly.
"Well, no," Tsuragamae admitted.
"Then let me take the blame for the actions of all the interns," Izuku said, with a surprising amount of steel to his voice. "Mic-sensei and I have already gone on record as being in Hosu for an undisclosed reason, but we didn't go into detail about the heroes we'd be working with. If the police department backs the story that it was Present Mic and his intern that took down the Hero Killer, then all the press needs to know is that we were in Hosu for that mission and we accomplished what we set out to do. No one needs to know about the other heroes who were involved in the op.
"That is-" Izuku looked back at the others, Shouto included, "-if it's alright with all of you?" "Works for me," said Hitoshi at once.
"And me," Shouto nodded.
Then he looked at Iida, to find the other boy looking back at him with wide, bewildered eyes. Shouto did his best to communicate silently how badly he wanted this. Iida was clearly confused, unaware as he was of the bad blood between Shouto and his father, but he turned to the police chief nonetheless.
"Me too," Iida said, bowing his head. "Midoriya should have the credit. He was the one who designed the op, and he struck the final blow against Stain. It's only fair."
Tsuragamae blinked, then looked over at Aizawa, Junebug and Manual. Aizawa had gone quiet, looking at Hitoshi contemplatively, and the other two just looked bemused. Finally Tsuragamae lifted a hand to scratch at his snout with one finger.
"I suppose I'll go . . . give a statement then," he said, sounding completely nonplussed as to how he'd arrived at that conclusion.
"We'll leave it to you," Shouto said politely, and inclined his head. In the periphery of his vision he saw the others doing the same, and then Tsuragamae sighed and left the room.
"So," Hitoshi said once Tsuragame was gone, sounding a little more nervous than before, "what's UA's punishment?"
Aizawa sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "To be determined," he said simply, "by Principal Nezu, when internships are over."
"So I take it we're not being expelled," Hitoshi ventured.
"Don't push your luck, Problem Child," Aizawa instructed. "You weren't here on the first day of class, so you don't know, but UA sees fit to give the teachers our heads. If I felt it was necessary, it's well within my power to expel you all."
Hitoshi looked appropriately chastened, but Iida spoke up instead. "But, you said your threat to expel one of us was just a logical ruse?"
Aizawa huffed but said nothing.
The more Izuku thought about the story Tsuragamae was going to feed the press, the more airtight it seemed. Stain's major injuries were the concussive damage from the sound attack and the
electrical burns from the force lance. He didn't have any burns that could have been caused by an open flame, and the damage from Iida's Recipro Burst could have easily been done by Izuku's own steel toed boots. All the physical evidence suggested that Stain had been taken down by someone with a sound-based quirk and a close-range fighter with a taser. As for injuries to the heroes, Izuku and Mic clearly had the worst of them, and any damage to Iida, Shouto and Hitoshi could easily have been caused by the Nomus.
Izuku's thoughts turned to those Nomus as he laid in bed, listening to the others discuss the events of the night. The newsfeed he'd brought up on his phone was certainly reporting the story that Endeavor had taken down the Hero Killer first and foremost, but they were also discussing the three villains who had started the various riots all over Hosu. They all had a definite physical resemblance to the Nomu that Shigaraki had brought to the USJ, and a news helicopter had caught two people watching the chaos from atop a water tower. They were hard to make out, but Izuku was almost sure they were Shigaraki and the warp quirk villain, Kurogiri.
It all pointed to a connection between Stain and the League of Villains. Izuku, however, wasn't so sure. The news was certain that Shigaraki had caused the riots to draw attention off Stain's latest murder attempt, but Stain had never needed such a cover before. And then there was the issue of All Might. Stain had said All Might was the only true hero, the only one worthy of killing him. Shigaraki, however, wanted to kill All Might, had been so hell-bent on destroying him he'd attacked a secure facility inside the UA campus. Their actions seemed to align, but their interests didn't.
Izuku turned the problem over and over in his head. He couldn't help but feel as though he was missing the bigger picture. It was like he was short one crucial piece of information, and if he only had that it would all fit together and-
The door slid open, and Izuku looked up, knocked out of his contemplations by the sound. His eyes went immediately to about head height, but then had to stray lower until they met the gaze of a man in a wheelchair. Izuku had never seen his face before, but it was so similar to one he knew that it was immediately obvious who the man was.
"Ingenium!" Izuku exclaimed, hurriedly sitting up in bed and turning to face the newcomer.
"Brother!" Iida said at nearly the same time, and he stood up from his hospital bed to make for the door.
"All of you sit," Ingenium instructed, wheeling himself into the room. It took a bit of maneuvering for him to close the door behind himself, and he clearly wasn't used to getting around in the chair, but eventually he sat facing the four of them.
"Are you sure you should be out of bed Brother?" Iida said anxiously. "Your injuries-"
"Were stabilized days ago," Ingenium cut him off with a wave of his hand. "They're not nearly as bad as you worry they are, Tenya."
Iida sat reluctantly back down on his bed, but he still looked very concerned.
Ingenium turned to Izuku. "I believe I have you to thank for that, don't I?" he said with a smile. "You're Midoriya, right? The kid with the notebooks?"
"Yes," Izuku said, nodding. "That's me. And, yes, they're my notebooks."
"You've got a real eye for quirks," Ingenium's smile widened. "I'd have liked to have had a friend
like you when I was in school. Maybe then I wouldn't have gotten myself so messed up."
"I don't think any one person could take on the Hero Killer," Izuku said consolingly. "I'm just glad your injuries weren't worse. I'm honored that you tried a special move I proposed, and grateful that it worked."
"I'm grateful too," Ingenium said, with a slight laugh. "You've done a lot for our family, Midoriya. I just got off the phone with my parents, and they said if you were in the same hospital as me and I didn't come thank you myself I shouldn't bother coming home."
"It wasn't anything that special!" Izuku protested hurriedly. "Really, I didn't do very much, and-"
Ingenium interrupted him with a loud, full-throated laugh, throwing back his head as his smile forced his eyes shut. Izuku stop rambling and watched, feeling anxious and a little like an imposter. Surely Ingenium had overestimated how much impact he'd had on the way things had played out.
Eventually Ingenium stopped laughing and looked back at him, his smile warm and genuine. "I'm glad you're going to school with my brother Midoriya," he said. "It makes me feel better knowing he has friends like you to look out for him."
At this Ingenium turned to the room at large. "I'm grateful to all of you for saving Tenya," he said, addressing Shouto and Hitoshi as well. "I know it's a lot to ask, but I feel I can trust the three of you, so please continue to look after my foolish baby brother."
With that he bowed to the three of them, as low as he could in his wheelchair, nearly bending in half as though to simulate getting down on the floor. Izuku hoped he hadn't wanted to get down on the floor.
"Of course," said Shouto diplomatically, bowing his head slightly in turn.
"I didn't do much, but if it'll make you feel better," Hitoshi said, also bowing.
"We'll do our best," Izuku promised, lowering his own head to Ingenium.
There was a moment of silence, during which Izuku felt at least a little bit better and less like a fraud now that everyone was being thanked. Then Iida said, "That's not true, Shinsou."
Izuku looked up at him, to find him staring down at the floor. The others all stared, watching him contemplate the tiles, but he didn't say anything else for a few moments. Then he took a deep breath and looked up.
"All of you came to save me, in that alley," Iida said solemnly. "When I came across the Hero Killer, I stopped thinking rationally. The first thing I should have done was call for help, but I got lost in my own anger. When the three of you came to help me, it reminded me of what a hero is supposed to be: someone who puts the wellbeing of others above their own ends. You saved me; not just my life, but also my heart."
There was a moment of silence following this declaration. Then Hitoshi said, "Jeez Iida, we were just trying to stop you from getting yourself killed, don't get all weird about it!" and Iida and Ingenium both laughed.
Hitoshi was by far the least injured of all those who had been in the fight, so he had the luxury of stepping out of the shared hospital room. It was too crowded, and the visitors there were getting
progressively more intense, and he just wanted to call his mom and let her know that he was alright. Thankfully his name was being kept out of the news, even the newer wave of stories reporting the version of events given by Tsuragamae, so he didn't think his mom knew he'd been involved in the chaos. He wasn't even supposed to have been in Hosu.
"Problem Child," said a gruff voice from just behind Hitoshi's head.
Hitoshi jumped and spun around to find Eraserhead standing just behind him. He'd thought he'd found a quiet, out of the way corner to call from, and he had no idea how long his teacher had been there. He weighed his options and decided it was better to assume 'not very long.' He'd already given away that he didn't know he was being followed.
"I was just going to call my mom!" Hitoshi held up his cell phone as though it were some kind of evidence of his claim.
"You should be resting," Eraser said with a scowl.
"Why?" Hitoshi blurted, then hastened to qualify his question. "I mean, my injuries weren't that bad. I just fell on my face is all, I didn't actually do anything."
Eraser narrowed his eyes, and Hitoshi wondered if he was about to get scolded both for diving into the fight and for not doing enough fighting when Eraser said, "What do you mean? The others said it was your quirk that overrode the Hero Killer's and got Mic back into the fight."
"Well, yes," Hitoshi admitted, squirming under Eraser's gaze, "but I didn't do any actual fighting."
"That's the one thing you did right," Eraser told him, and though his tone didn't soften, the words made Hitoshi's heart flip.
"What do you mean?" he asked, and whether it was out of genuine confusion or a desire to hear more of that line of thinking, he didn't know.
The feeling of warmth when Mic had responded him, reaching back for Hitoshi to brainwash him, still made guilt coil in his gut. He felt as though he'd used some kind of trick without meaning to, like he'd chosen to use his powers on allies rather than enemies out of some warped desire to do harm. It couldn't have been the right thing to do.
"You're not an experienced fighter," Eraser explained, "so you concentrated on doing what you could to get as many skilled combatants into the action as possible. That's what you should have done, if you were dead set on acting."
"But . . ." Hitoshi struggled to wrap his head around what Eraser was saying. "Wouldn't it have been better if I'd been able to capture Stain right away? I could have ended the fight then and there."
"It would have been a risk though," Eraser countered. "If you hadn't managed to capture Stain, or he'd broken free somehow, his attention would have been focused on you. If he'd paralyzed you, or worse, you wouldn't have been able to help the others and the advantage you provided would have been lost."
"But . . ." Hitoshi protested again. He trusted Eraser, but something inside him rebelled at the idea that using his quirk on a Pro Hero was the right thing to do. "Isn't it better to use my quirk on a villain?"
"Not always," Eraser said, and maybe Hitoshi was imagining it but his voice seemed less irritated,
more gentle. "You prioritized the wounded over the villain, the rescue over the fight. You're clever; you found a way to use your quirk to heal injuries rather than cause them. A hero's job is first and foremost to save people, not to punish those who break the law. Your first thought was for your teammates, not your own personal glory, and that more than anything proves I was right about you."
Hitoshi stared at him, trying to digest what was being said. His heart felt like it was ready to pop, so full that it ached and throbbed. There was a strange, pleasant fogginess to his head, and he wondered if that was what it was like to be brainwashed. His vision swam with tears, but he blinked them away and kept staring.
No one had ever said anything like this about him before. No one had even come close.
Still, there was one more thing.
"Right about what?" he asked hoarsely.
Eraser lifted a hand and brought it down on Hitoshi's head. He didn't pat or ruffle his hair, but his hand was a solid, comforting weight, keeping Hitoshi grounded.
"You have more potential for heroics than half the students I teach," Eraser said, "and more than half of the ones who get in because they have powerful physical quirks. Remember that."
Hitoshi nodded, but said nothing. He had no idea what to say. Eventually Eraser took back his hand and put it in his pocket, then turned and began to walk away.
"Call your mother," he instructed, "then get back to bed. You need to heal quickly so you can make the most of the rest of your internship."
"Yes sir," Hitoshi said, but he didn't move until Eraser had disappeared from view. *
"That's awesome green bean!" cried Hatsume, as though she was trying to shout to be heard all the way from Musutafu rather than talking to him on the phone.
"Yeah," Izuku said quietly, giving an apologetic smile to an old man who was glaring at him from a nearby row of chairs. "Is it really on the news already?"
"According to the TV going in the workshop," Hatsume confirmed. "They're retracting their statements about Endeavor, and the new official story is that it was Present Mic and his intern Dekiru who took down Stain! Not a bad day's work for your first internship!"
"It's all happening so fast," Izuku admitted. "It's kinda hard to keep up with everything that's going on. This news story is going to attract a lot of attention."
"You're gonna do great!" Hatsume gushed. "Just make sure you mention that it was my super cute baby you were using when you beat up the bad guy!"
"Hitoshi and I were sure to tell the police chief you made it," Izuku assured her. "It should be in the official report, but if any reporters ask me I'll mention your name."
"You're the best!" Hatsume chirped.
"I'm not sure if anyone around here is going to let me in front of a camera though," Izuku admitted.
"I think I'm getting a reputation as a bit of a wild card."
"What better reputation for showing off a wide array of unexpected gadgets!" Hatsume crowed.
"I'm getting right to work on more babies for you!"
"Don't push yourself," Izuku tried to stem the tide of Hatsume's enthusiasm. "I know you've still got Hitoshi's support item to finish."
"I already finished that!" Hatsume protested. "I've got lots of new ideas though, I think you two are gonna love them!"
Izuku let Hatsume chatter about inventions for a few minutes before begging off to let her get back to work. Hatsume was more than happy to do so, and Izuku ended his first phone call with an actual, real live girl with the impression that it had been a success. He was just wondering if he should tell Hitoshi his new support item was finished as he hobbled back towards the elevators on his crutches when his attention was drawn by a loud voice and the smell of something burning.
"What do you mean I can't see him?!" boomed Endeavor, making the comparatively much smaller receptionist cower.
Izuku immediately limped around the corner leading to the elevators and peered back out at the lobby, where Endeavor was standing at the large front desk. He was in his hero uniform, his customary flames not at all dimmed for a hospital environment, and he was glaring down the small blond receptionist even as she tried to hold her ground.
"I'm sorry sir," she said, voice quavering, "but Eraserhead is the one who checked them in, and he said no one was to be allowed upstairs without his permission. If you just let me call him-"
"I don't need permission from the likes of Eraserhead to see my own flesh and blood!" Endeavor shouted. "I'm the Number Two Hero! Eraserhead isn't even Shouto's supervisor!"
"I'm sorry," the woman repeated, but she looked ready to crack. "A hero gave orders about who is and isn't allowed to see him, and unless-"
She was cut off again, this time by a the sound of a ringing cellphone, and Endeavor immediately abandoned his conversation to take out his phone and answer it right there.
"What is it?!" he snapped at whoever was on the other end, completely oblivious to the glares he was attracting from other people in the waiting room.
Izuku couldn't hear what the other person was saying, but Endeavor paused a moment to listen.
"I'm at the hospital in Hosu," he said as though in answer to a question. "I only need to assess the damage to my masterpiece, and then-"
Whoever was on the other end of the phone apparently cut him off, and Endeavor scowled in annoyance but went quiet anyway. He listened for several moments, the other person apparently talking at length about whatever they were discussing, and in that time Endeavor's face began to change. His look of irritation morphed into surprise, and then into confusion. Finally he bared his teeth in a snarl, his eyes blazing with white hot fury and the flames coming off his face and body flaring dangerously.
"WHAT?!" he demanded, after the person had gone on for a while. "What do you mean they contradicted my story? The police captain promised me that-"
He went quiet again as the person on the other end of the phone resumed speaking, but now Endeavor no longer looked insensate to his surroundings. He threw a suspicious glance at the receptionist, then swept the room with his gaze as though looking for threats. Izuku ducked back behind the corner for a second, then after a few moments of silence peeked out again.
Endeavor was looking vaguely at the reception desk, his expression still absolutely murderous. Suddenly he gave a wordless growl of rage and hung up, then shoved his cellphone into his pocket and stomped back toward the front entrance. As he went his boots left scorch marks on the polished floor, but once he was gone the receptionist breathed a sigh of relief.
Izuku turned and made his way carefully to the elevator. That had almost certainly been someone calling to inform Endeavor of the change in the news cycle, and he had probably decided it was better to get out of the open quickly than to force the issue of seeing Shouto. Izuku was grateful that if their scheme had accomplished nothing else, it had spared Shouto having to see his father in this state.
Still, the event made something tug at Izuku's brain, and he knew he needed to stop messing around.
He rode the elevator not up to his own floor, but to the very top floor, where the rooms were bigger and more secure. As he made his way down the hall he could see the very last room on the ward was guarded by two police officers and one hero, with many more doubtlessly inside. The room where Stain was being kept. He stopped at a room much closer to the elevator, as far away from the Hero Killer as could be arranged, and opened the door.
"Hey there 'lil listener," Mic said weakly as Izuku limped into his room.
Mic had been right: without his shades and with his hair washed and down, he was nearly unrecognizable. Izuku had to remind himself that this pale man with hair past his shoulders was really his teacher. Mic's smile was one of genuine happiness, even if he was reclining fully with an IV in his arm and an oxygen monitor clipped to his finger, and he beckoned Izuku inside with something approximating his usual animation.
"How're you feeling?" Izuku asked, nervous to come too near, but Mic gestured at the chair by the bed and Izuku sank reluctantly into it.
"It looks worse than it is," Mic assured him.
"A punctured lung is no joke," Izuku countered.
"Eh, he just nicked it," Mic scoffed. "Recovery Girl's making a trip out to see us, just so we can get back on the air before the week is out."
"I'm sorry this whole thing got so out of control," Izuku said quietly. "It was my idea that you should be the bait-"
"It was a good idea with the information you had to hand," Mic cut him off firmly. "You didn't know Stain would be working with the League of Villains. There was no way you could have predicted the attacks."
Izuku paused. "About that . . ."
"Oh?" Mic prompted, head tilted to the side. It made his waves of hair shift strangely against the covers.
Izuku bit his lip, then decided there was no point beating around the bush.
"I was wondering if I could talk to the Hero Killer," Izuku said, trying to sound humble and contrite.
Mic opened his mouth, probably to deny the request, then hesitated. "Why?" he asked. "What do you want to say to him?"
"I wanna ask him if he was really working with the League of Villains," Izuku said. "Some things just don't add up-"
Mic, however, was already shaking his head. "No," he said, "the police will interrogate him. It's not your job."
For a moment Izuku didn't say anything. He wanted to argue, to explain and plead his case, but his mind couldn't help but turn to all the arguing he'd done to organize the Hero Killer op in the first place. He swallowed his curiosity and nodded his understanding.
Mic gave him a smile, then reached out a hand toward him. Izuku ducked his head slightly, and Mic patted his unruly green curls. He hadn't bothered to put oil in them today.
"You did good, 'lil listener," Mic told him quietly. "You're reckless and careless and too selfless for your own good, but . . . you made me proud to be your teacher."
Izuku's eyes grew hazy with tears, but he blinked and didn't let them fall. Not trusting himself to speak, he gave Mic a shaky smile and nodded.
Dr. Chiyo came in the late afternoon, but she insisted that all her patients stay in the hospital one more night for observation, so Hizashi found himself perfectly whole and healthy but still cooling his heels in his top floor room. The sun seemed to want to take forever to set, and Hizashi wondered how he was supposed to sleep as keyed up as he was. Even being healed hadn't managed to sap him of his nervous energy, and he stared at the white tile of the ceiling, trying not to let himself be consumed by doubts.
He had done the right thing, OK'ing the op the protect Tenya.
He had done the right thing, trying to send Izuku away from the fight. He had done the right thing, refusing to let Izuku talk to the Hero Killer.
No matter how many times he tried to tell himself these things he couldn't make himself feel they were true. The head and the heart were always communicating by snail mail, and nothing he said would make him believe in his heart that he'd done everything he could. Watching Izuku face down the Hero Killer while he'd watched helplessly had been worse than any catastrophe he'd ever witness, and seeing him get picked up by the flying Nomu had been like . . .
Hizashi got out of bed. He stripped out of his hospital gown and put on his hero costume, bloodstains and all. He didn't have any hair gel with him, and it would have been too much to use it anyway, so he threw his hair in a high ponytail and pulled on his boots.
Then he stomped down the hall to the room where the Hero Killer was being held.
The Pro sitting outside gave him a disapproving look as he passed, but the police officers stood at
attention as he opened the door. There were more inside, and they all looked up when he entered, but none of them seemed surprised to see him. The last few rays of sunlight came through the window -- bulletproof glass, impenetrable, no chance of escape -- and fell upon the hospital bed where the Hero Killer lay.
Stain looked up at him as he entered, but said nothing. He looked different without his scarf and his mask and all his weapons, but he still had the same aura of blood and death around him. He looked at Hizashi with dissatisfaction, but he made no attempt to struggle against his restraints to get at him.
"I'm not here because I think you have anything of value to say," Hizashi said evenly. "I'm only here because my student has a question for you, and there's no chance in hell I'm letting him ever lay eyes on you again."
"Ask it then, fake," Stain invited coldly.
"Were you working with the League of Villains." Hizashi said. He did not ask a question. He demanded a response.
For a moment Stain was quiet, and he looked Hizashi up and down as though sizing him up. When he spoke his voice was raspy and low, like there was any chance of privacy with six cops stationed around the bed. Still, Hizashi felt strangely isolated, as though he and Stain were alone in the room.
"No," Stain said. "I wouldn't work with that aimless weakling Shigaraki. He has no conviction, no principles. I would never align myself with him."
Hizashi swallowed the inquiry about what kind of principles allowed for the murder of children and turned to go.
"You're a fraud," Stain said as Hizashi walked toward the door, "you'll always be a fraud, but your student has the potential to become a true hero. That's why I'm going to tell you this."
Hizashi stopped with his hand on the doorknob. He should leave. He shouldn't listen to any of this murderer's nonsense. This man had no care for Izuku, and what he said about Izuku didn't matter.
Hizashi turned back.
"I spoke to Shigaraki," Stain told him, "and when I did, he had little bit's picture. He has some kind of hatred for the kid, something personal. He won't stay underground for long. He'll be back, and he'll be gunning for him."
"Thanks for the head's up," Hizashi said, then turned and swept from the room, leaving Stain and his cryptic warnings behind him.