"So you couldn't get a look in the refrigerator?" Nighteye asked him, humming to himself.
Izuku shook his head. "I won't be able to, not without doing something drastic," he replied. "Though we might be able to get a search warrant at this point." After last night's dream, he would have been more than happy to spend most of the day huddled in a heap, but alas that was not an option.
Nighteye cracked his knuckles. "I will coordinate with the detectives," Nighteye assured him. "There are several ongoing investigations related to Green Mountain and it is possible that this will prove important in the big picture. In the meantime, please keep doing what you are doing. Your work has been quite good so far."
Well, it was nice to be appreciated.
Izuku arrived at the lodge later than usual, well after dinner, and lingered around a few fireplaces before losing at pool ten times in a row. The guy he was playing against kept shooting behind his back or bouncing the cue ball in improbable ways to emphasize that he could waste time showing off and still beat Izuku. Fossa scowled; he didn't really care, but he had a persona to maintain.
A door crashed open and Fossa jumped a solid three feet in the air, landing in a defensive crouch as a deep voice roared, "licensed heroes! We have a warrant! Get your hands up!" Huh. Green Mountain was being raided... was this a result of Fossa's intelligence being passed up the line to someone who didn't bother to inform the agent's handler of the upcoming action? Or was this unrelated?
Izuku raised his hands, face a mask of total confusion, as the adrenaline began to fade--and then there was a gunshot and the insidious hiss of an emitter quirk activating and the initial jolt of terror returned vengefully. Izuku threw himself under the pool table, hands over his head. The raid team
probably didn't know about him. Standard operating procedure for an undercover operative caught in a situation like this was to surrender immediately, be arrested with the lot, and sort out the mess at the police station later. It was only under very rare circumstances that an undercover hero caught in a surprise raid should attempt to join with--or oppose--the invading team--only if the undercover hero had a villainous persona that absolutely must be maintained even at the risk of serious injury, vitally important information to impart, an easy chance to capture an extremely dangerous opponent, or an opportunity to save a life. Izuku, having none of these things, removed himself from the situation as best as he could.
Small arms fire continued. A wall exploded and someone came flying through the resulting hole in a hailstorm of splinters before sprawling in a heap on a bearskin rug in front of the fireplace. More shouting. More gunfire. A shriek.
Combat boots clunked across the floor. It seemed the fighting was mostly over already. "You! Get out from under there now!" Someone shouted.
"Me?" Izuku asked.
"Yes you! Hands where we can see them!"
Izuku wriggled his way out into the open and stood slowly, hands tucked behind his head. It was Yoroi Musha of all people... What was a top twenty pro doing at a place like this? Whatever was going on here must be way higher pay grade than Fossa had thought.
"Midoriya?" a familiar voice half-shrieked. Right... three of Izuku's classmates were interning with Yoroi. Ashido stared at him, open mouthed, as if unable to comprehend what her eyes were telling her. "What in the world are you--"
A glove slapped Ashido's cheek and Hagakure hissed, "Shut up Pinky!" "Are you armed?" the Equipped Hero asked Fossa, ignoring the interns.
"No sir," Izuku replied to Yoroi, trying to sound as dazed and shocked as possible. It wasn't difficult at all.
"Are you injured?"
"No sir."
"Invisible Girl, take him out front with the others."
Hagakure pushed Fossa's shoulder, guiding him towards the front of the building. "What are you doing here?" she whispered in his ear as they went.
"I was supposed to watch two suspected drug kingpins," he whispered back after making sure no one else was within earshot. "Supposed to be an easy, low risk job."
"What am I... I mean I know who you are... what am I supposed to do?" Hagakure asked, borderline frantic.
"Just let them take me to the station with everyone else, not a word about who I am. I'll get it sorted out when we get there," Izuku told her.
"O-okay. If you're sure."
"I am," he replied calmly. "That's standard operating procedure."
The ride down the mountain in the back of a police van was unbelievably awkward. Whatever had been going on at Green Mountain, most of these people--including the now trembling man who had been beating Izuku at pool--didn't know a thing about it. Hopefully someone with a truth quirk would sort that out quickly. Otani sat across from Izuku, face pale, eyes darting from side to side, lips drawn in a tight line. He definitely knew exactly what had been going on.
"Are you alright?" Izuku asked Otani innocently as the vehicle lazily swirled its way down the winding mountain roads. "They didn't hit you on the head did they?"
"Just fine young man," Otani answered awkwardly, fiddling with the quirk-cuffs binding his wrists. The man had not fought back; the belligerent prisoners--including those that had,if rumors were to be beleived, tried to set the lodge ablaze to destroy evidence--were being transported with greater security. That did not suggest that Otani was innocent, just that he had paid other people to do the fighting for him.
"No talking," their police escort told them firmly. The greenette closed his eyes.
The prisoners were split immediately upon arriving at the precinct. Izuku found himself alone in a small room that caused him significant deja vu. More than a year ago, back when everything started, he had waited for Detective Tsukauchi and his mother in a room like this, waited for someone to tell him what had happened to him, or rather that they didn't know what had happened to him... and they still didn't know, even after all this time.
Depending on what exactly was going on, Fossa might have to wait a long time. Perhaps he should take a nap, or just reflect on how amusing it was that they had quirk-cuffed him. Almost before he could finish that thought, the heavy door swung open on silent hinges admitting Ashido, Hagakure, and Aoyama as well as one haggard police detective.
"These three say you're their classmate?" the detective asked.
"Yes. Midoriya Izuku. I'm working for Sir Nighteye," Izuku replied. "No license on you..." the detective hummed.
"I'm not that kind of hero."
The detective nodded. "I'll give Sir Nighteye a call."
The door swung shut. Izuku stared awkwardly at his three classmates. "What the hell, Midoriya? What were you doing at a place like that when you're supposed to be on work-study?" Ashido demanded.
Izuku blinked and exchanged a glance with Aoyama and then a virtual glance with Hagakure. "Really, girl?" Hagakure asked.
"He is on work-study my friend. He was spying on them," Aoyama said with a roll of his eyes.
"He's probably the one that tipped us off about what was happening there," Hagakure said as Ashido blinked and then began to blush in embarrassment. "Remember that whole thing about him passing the Undercover Auxiliary Exam?"
"Right," Ashido said in a small voice. "Right... I... sorry, Midoriya..."
Fossa shrugged. "It's all okay, except in the future please don't yell the real--or work--names of other heroes that you meet in unexpected places. You could blow someone's cover and get them... or their partners... killed." Ashido gulped and nodded rapidly.
"Were you seriously all alone there, Midoriya? Or were there others we didn't know?" Aoyama asked. Why had the detective allowed the three of them to stay in here with him? That must be a breach of protocol. Well, whatever. They all knew who he was and what he was doing and he was going to be uncuffed and out of here in a matter of minutes.
"I was alone," Fossa replied. "It was supposed to be a very low risk assignment."
"We're sorry about... all this. Getting you arrested and... all this," Hagakure repeated, pulling on the hem of her glove.
Izuku shrugged. He didn't much care about being handcuffed. He hadn't done anything wrong; he wasn't really under arrest. It didn't mean anything. False Flag had talked with him about this. Apparently she got arrested all the time, so much that it was almost a running gag. "I don't really care. Our kind of heroes get arrested every once in a while. It's going to be part of my job."
The detective stepped back in. "Nighteye confirmed your identity with us," the woman said, unlocking the cuffs with a master key. "Your car has been impounded. I'll have an officer take you to the lot." Izuku flexed his wrists as he took his keys back.
"Thank you. Have a nice day." In retrospect, that was a pretty weird thing to say when being released from a holding room. "I'll see you guys back at school, okay? Don't follow me. We don't want it to look like we know each other."
Izuku fought back a yawn as Nighteye debriefed him the following morning. He'd only got a few hours of sleep in the end. "I am very sorry about the raid. I had not been informed of their plans," the hero told him. Nighteye looked angry. Someone had snubbed him by cutting him out of the loop. "I would have messaged you to leave."
That was a given. "Well, it worked out okay. It was useful experience." It really was, although it would have been nice to have a pro as backup when the insanity started. "But what was going on at that place that they raided it with a top ranking pro?" Izuku wondered. "Am I allowed to know?"
"There was, as you suspected, illicit trade in products of protected animals, but the crime that resulted in the high-powered raid was organ trafficking, believe it or not. I passed your information to the police and it was, apparently, the final piece of a puzzle they had been working on for some time."
"Oooh," that was... utterly insane, almost unbelievable, the kind of thing that just couldn't happen in your own backyard, but it also made a lot of sense. "Were they actually doing... organ replacement surgeries at Green Mountain or just... storing things there?"
"The former. The basement of that place hides a surgical suite." Nighteye worried his lip before continuing, "I do apologize. I considered it safe for you to work this job alone because I was under the impression that it was extremely low risk and that turned out not to be the case... I..."
"Situations often aren't how they appear. And they can change fast," Izuku mused. Izuku probably shouldn't have been working alone in any case, but whatever. It was done now.
"That is far more true than you know," Nighteye sighed. "I apologize for... all of this week. I am... not sure if you have noticed but I am... incredibly distracted after... I was already distracted because of, well, it doesn't matter," the hero worried his lip again and continued this odd, nervous rambling, "but then what happened with Hawks... and perhaps I stopped worrying about you because I saw you in that vision, too--"
"You did?" Izuku interrupted. "Why am I in Hawks' future?" Nighteye gave him a haunted look and the greenette shivered.
"It's... I don't know if I should--"
There was a clatter in the hallway. "Nighteye!" said Lemillion, shoving his head through the door rather than opening it. Izuku found that he had jumped up, causing his chair to fall in a heap, without any conscious decision to do so. "Uh, things are--uh, you might want to turn on channel five..."
Completely shocked by this sudden entrance, the hero did not hesitate to reach for the remote. "Sweet mercy, what now," Nighteye mumble-whispered under his breath. That wasn't the kind of thing you wanted to hear an authority figure say...
The small television in the corner snapped on and an obviously angry anchor continued what must have been a long speech, "...leaked HPSC records stretching back decades. Some papers have been heavily redacted but little is left to the imagination. Chilling evidence that the HPSC has regularly worked with villains under the table can be seen alongside explicit instructions to train child soldiers and commit grievous abuses against them."
By this point, Mirio had opened the door and he, along with Bubble Girl and Centipeder, had entered the room. "No, they couldn't," Nighteye hissed under his breath, staring at the television, face twisted in a mix of revulsion and helplessness.
"Current number two pro hero Hawks, real name Keigo Takami, was part of this program, and the photographic evidence is very unpleasant. Viewer discretion is heavily advised for the remainder of this segment. Several documents indicate that the HPSC swept complaints against popular heroes under the rug, even quashing criminal investigations into extreme cases of excessive force, extortion, and domestic abuse."
Nighteye swore and slowly shook his head. "We are in so much trouble," he said quietly.
"I can't... I can't believe the HPSC would... that they did any of this," Mirio said, lips slightly parted with shock. "It has to be fabricated, right?"
Images of Hawks as a child of perhaps seven, beaten bloody after a "training session" had been censored by the network, the wounds softened by a blur filter, but the greenette's imagination filled in the gaps with pieces from a thousand other atrocities. Hawks used to be a battle slave... might still be... how many people did the HPSC do this to? "No wonder the HPSC takes a hard line against Isomorph operating in Japan," Izuku mused aloud. No one spared him a glance.
"There is a strong suggestion in several documents that the HPSC trained assassins, some of whom may have killed civilians and minor criminals with impunity, the leadership turning a blind eye as long as the operatives continued to do the organization's dirty work without complaint." Hirano. They knew then, didn't they? They knew about Hirano and they did nothing. Bastards.
"Records of internal investigations indicate that the new HPSC Director and her administration have, in fact, been working to clean house and put a stop to these practices."
"Oh thank god," Nighteye slouched. "That is going to be our saving grace."
Was it? "I think she's about to say 'but,'" Izuku said. The anchor still did not look happy. There was more bad news to come.
"But old habits die hard. The following statement accompanied the released documents: 'Although I have sympathy for the reformers and for those who have been hurt by the conduct of the HPSC in the past, I would call your attention to the following documents. The HPSC has known who killed Best Jeanist since practically the day of the assassination. Their belief that they could use this information to manipulate the situation to their advantage is ludicrous, nothing more than an excuse to avoid a high profile arrest and possibly the exposure of their gross misconduct.
'Much sympathy as I may have for the Winged Hero, his abusive childhood does not excuse murdering an upstanding coworker as a show of loyalty to a fringe group of soulless radicals. Sorry, Hawks, but we children of the trees must stick together.'"
"The evidence that Hawks, who was himself a member of the protection team for heroes recuperating after Kamino Ward, murdered Best Jeanist," the anchor sounded as if she were one sentence from being sick, "is quite conclusive." Oh, it was beyond conclusive. There was a video, short but no less impactful for its length, of Hawks posing beside the fiber hero's limp body--the whip-snake build, emerald eyes and familiar golden hair plenty distinguishable even without any denim. A blood soaked primary feather hung casually in the winged hero's hand as he smiled for the camera. Even the heavily censored version for public consumption, blurred over the blood, was fairly disturbing and Izuku had very high standards for that. It was the grin that made it so upsetting, wasn't it? The traitor's self-satisfied smirk...
"Oh my god," Bubble Girl raked her finger nails down her cheeks. Mirio looked as if he had been repeatedly smacked in the head with a crowbar. Centipeder was the only stoic one in the group, or maybe Izuku just didn't know how to read his body language. How did the HPSC get that video in the first place so that it could be leaked along with the rest of these files? Hawks would have had to do something amazingly, stupendously, just unbelievably stupid to allow that to happen.
Hawks... Hawks, cheerful, happy-go-lucky but actually not happy-go-lucky, former child battle slave, Hawks... killed Best Jeanist as proof of loyalty to some villain group... probably the remnants of the League of Villains, finishing what they started at Kamino. All For One... ruining everything even when he was rotting behind bars. "Who leaked all of this?" Centipeder wondered as damning information scrolled across the screen in an endless, redacted and censored collage.
"'We children of the trees must stick together,'" Izuku breathed. Children of the trees... Black Forest... "War Dog," he whispered, shards falling into place. The reason Best Jeanist knew all kinds of off the book things about MLA generals, enough to make snarky comments over Kacchan's shoulder while Izuku's friend read a guide book, was because the fiber hero was from the Rebel Isles. Like War Dog... and she had done this in solidarity for her fellow emigrant... though perhaps she would have released them in any event.
"War what?" asked Mirio.
"War Dog," Izuku repeated. "She's a triple-S villain or vigilante, depending on your perspective. She broke into UA just before the Cultural Festival, and the theory," or, the theory Aizawa had implied, "was that it was to get direct access to networks so she could steal HPSC files. I guess she only now managed to decrypt them or... decide what to leak and what to keep under wraps..." He needed to sit down; dizziness was getting the best of him. The world was shifting suddenly, radically, like Kamino Ward all over again, the foundation of everything washing away.
"Continuing developments on this story, live," the anchor's face gave way to video from a helicopter showing a fight in the street. A flash of red--Hawks. Hawks was fighting with Gang Orca...
A street level view replaced the fuzzy, helicopter camera. The two top ten heroes--could he call Hawks a hero? No. No, he was like the one who had revealed him; he was like War Dog now, triple-S and existing in the border world between villain and vigilante--were locked in a death- match. Why didn't Hawks fly off? It would be the smart thing to do. Maybe another quirk was in play? Several other heroes were nearby and the news helicopter was keeping its distance... It looked like there might be a barrier of wind above the street, some kind of weather control quirk. Perhaps that explained it.
Izuku heard Gang Orca roar, but couldn't make out any of the words. He couldn't tell if most of it was words at all, but he was pretty sure that he caught "bastard" in there somewhere. Apparently this was live and the network censors had been too shocked to do their jobs correctly. Barely missing Hawks with a mad lunge, the whale hero clawed at the air.
There was a sudden gust of gale-force wind--the camera was forced to the ground and by the time the lens returned its focus upwards the fight was over. Gang Orca had Hawks pinned down by his throat and for a good five seconds it seemed that there was going to be another top ten on top ten murder, this time on live television, but Gang Orca ground his teeth, got a hold of himself, and rather than snapping Hawks' neck as he had seemed poised to do, roughly pulled the Winged--not Hero--Individual's arms behind his back and bound the slim wrists with the pair of quirk-cuffs. For the briefest instant, the greenette caught sight of Katsuki standing in the crowd, a feral snarl on his face, two people who were likely Gang Orca's sidekicks restraining the blonde.
"Well," Nighteye said after a moment. "As previously stated, we are all in a lot of trouble."
No kidding. "But not as much as Hawks," Bubble Girl replied grimly. Nighteye gave a short, desperate chuckle. It wasn't funny. Not at all.
"Is this," whispered Mirio, "what you saw? When Hawks was here... you looked at his future, right? This is... what you saw that upset you so much?" Oh, that must have been horrifying, knowing this reveal was coming but also knowing it couldn't be stopped, probably not knowing when it was going to happen with no idea of what to do or how to prepare. No wonder he'd been distracted this week. The burden of Izuku's visions was nothing in comparison to--
"No," Nighteye said dully.
"What?" Izuku balked.
Nighteye shook his head. "No, I didn't see this. Not much of it, anyway."
"W-what did you see, Sir?" Bubble Girl asked, wide-eyed. What else was in store for them then? What could be worse? Well, plenty of things...
Nighteye stared at the television, silent, reading the damning tickers at the bottom of the screen, biting his lip. Finally he answered, "Romeo and Juliette."
"Who?" Mirio furrowed his brow.
"'From forth the fatal loins of these two foes, A pair of star-crossed lovers take their life,'" Izuku quoted from someone else's memories. He had never read Shakespeare himself, but Bit Weasel, Destro, Switcher, Epona, and Influx had all been fans. Epona had been very fond of Romeo and
Juliette, hadn't she, after her own star-crossed lover's death.
"Star-crossed lovers?" Centipered asked, cocking his head.
Nighteye nodded slowly. "There's nothing I can do. There's nothing I can say. If I tell you, if I don't tell you... I could tell you," and he gave Izuku a look as he said this, something in his eyes filling the greenette with still deeper foreboding, "but it would only force you to share the burden... of knowing that nothing can be changed." There was a long pause. The HPSC director was brought in for questioning by the police. She made no protest, seeming resigned to it, resigned much as Nighteye was. "How good are you with automatic weapons, Midoriya?" the hero asked him.
Well. This was going frightening places quickly. "I might be rusty," Izuku admitted.
"Get certified to carry one," the hero told him. "Quickly. I'll sign you up for the proper tests... Snipe can probably help you. We need to get it done in the next few weeks."
Izuku didn't like that. He really, really didn't like that. In fact, he disliked that so much he wanted to refuse. "What if... I don't? That would by definition mean that if you saw me carrying a submachine gun or an assault rifle or something," which he had implied, "it couldn't come true."
Nighteye sniffed dismissively. "Do you think I've not tried things like that? And... I don't know what would--just trust me. Some visions... it's better if they come true."
"Oh." So Izuku would probably be killed if he didn't have such a heavy weapon... or someone else would.
"Now what?" Mirio asked quietly.
"Now," Nighteye replied, "we turn off the television and get back to work." What else could they do?