Midoriya tries to ignore his pounding head and his heart's sinking sensation as soon as his eyes flicker open. His white, immaculate ceiling stares back at him.
Raising one arm in the air, Midoriya examines how his fingers flex, the motion prudent and slow. To think this hand killed someone sounds like a dream. Yet this hand grabbed a doorknob that led him out of the interrogation room, leaving a witness defenceless. This hand wasn't fast enough to reach out for Schmidt as she became dust in front of his eyes. This hand was unable to stop Tomura.
But isn't Tomura your ally?
Midoriya curls on himself, staring this time at his desk a few feet away from him. He assumed Tomura and the Judge have an alliance. What he forgot was that he wasn't interrogating Schmidt as the Judge but as the fervent policeman. Thus the attack wasn't against the Judge but against this weaker side of him he desperately wants to abandon. Why couldn't he shed this skin he was born with for a stronger, better one?
Midoriya scratches his wrist. The skin turns a light shade of pink before darkening as his scratching turns to scrubbing. Although his nerves scream at him to stop as pain kicks in, Midoriya keeps on rubbing the same spot. His wrist is raw red but the colour doesn't disturb him as it should. If he keeps on scrubbing, perhaps his skin will peel away and reveal what lies beneath? He doesn't want to see muscles and blood; he wants to see fire and metal.
He's beginning to see the first pearls of blood leaking from his scratch when his cellphone rings. He should change the melody, as outdated as it is. He remembers stumbling upon it and being filled with elation; it's been the perfect ringing, back then, since it's a fanmade composition titled 'I'm here!' to honour All Might.
Midoriya fumbles around in his sheets, the vague memory of falling asleep in front of his phone's screen coming back to him. Listening to the sound, he finds it in a precarious position on the edge of his bed. He stretches to take it and almost drops it when he sees Tsukauchi's name.
"Hello, Tsukauchi-san?" His voice's hoarse as he answers and he curses himself for not clearing his throat beforehand.
The detective doesn't seem to mind as he goes straight to the subject. "Midoriya-kun, did I wake you? I texted you an hour ago but I don't know if you saw it."
With eyes still blurry with sleepiness, Midoriya realises it's ten in the morning. Checking the text message, he feels chills rolling down his spine even if the location Tsukauchi sent him is unfamiliar.
"I apologise, I didn't see it but I'm leaving now. Should I bring anything in particular?"
"No, it's alright. Think you can make it in thirty minutes?"
"Of course sir."
He doesn't have time to finish his sentence that the detective hangs up. Midoriya listens to the disconnected line emitting a dull, repetitive noise. It's similar to a heart that stopped beating. He looks down at his chest, putting one hand above his own heart to feel it pulse. He blocks everything out, focusing on its rhythm. He can almost convince himself he's fine.
Breathing out a sigh, Midoriya gets out of his bedroom. His mother's cooking fills the house, sweet spices tickling his nose.
"Good morning Izuku," she calls from the kitchen.
He trudges up to the table, seeing her face light up. He returns her smile even if his lacks of luster.
"How's your injury today?"
"It stings a little when I stretch but I won't do any abrupt movements. I have to meet with Tsukauchi-san in an hour though."
"Ah?" Worry makes his mother's face go colourless. "I thought you didn't have work."
"I don't. I have to meet him somewhere in Chiyoda."
"I guess it can't be helped… Promise me you won't do anything rash."
"Yes, okaasan," he promises, kissing her on the cheek.
He takes a banana from the fruits basket and a drinking yogurt from the refrigerator before heading to the door. Inko follows him, her hands curled around her apron. Midoriya slips in his shoes, grabbing his coat and burying the food in his pockets.
"I don't know when I'll be back so don't wait for me for lunch."
"Be careful," is the last thing he hears before he shuts the door behind him.
It takes him forty-five minutes and two shinkansen transfers before he reaches the address. He stares at Tsukauchi's message, then back at the building in front of him. It's a hotel, a luxurious one on top of it. With his salary as as policeman, he's not even sure he could afford one night in the cheapest bedroom without blowing a hole in his budget.
With no sign of Tsukauchi, Midoriya enters in the lobby. It reminds him of Tozawa Anri's apartment because of its vastness but this time there are couches and tables to fill up the space. Chandeliers dangles from the ceiling, figuring more as decorations than sources of light. His eyes sweep the lobby but don't catch sight of the detective. Midoriya lingers near the entrance and does his best to ignore the clerk keeping on glancing his way with distrust.
Fortunately, Midoriya doesn't have to wait for a while. One or two minutes later, the doors open once more and he's face to face with the detective.
"Ah, Midoriya-kun, right on time."
"Tsukauchi-san," Midoriya greets with a bow, "… and Todoroki-san."
Todoroki offers him a polite nod. "No need to add a honorific. It's rather strange, to be honest."
So much for this truce.
"Todoroki-san, Midoriya-kun, please follow me."
They skip the lobby, going straight to the elevator. The numbers indicating the floors light up as the machine transports them higher, silence reigning.
"Chief Tsuragamae has decided to suspend you for a week," Tsukauchi declares. "He also wants you to announce to Natsuhiko Arata, Schmidt's fiancé, that she died under your watch."
Midoriya's eyes close as the judgment falls. As light as as it seems, the sentence has to be one of the worst Midoriya can think of. If the guilt isn't gnawing his soul right now it will definitely devour it whole once he faces her betrothed.
"Will this be the first time you'll announce someone's death?"
Their silence suffices as an answer. The elevator dings once they reach the fifteenth floor, the doors sliding open. The corridors follow the lobby's aesthetic, spacious with monochrome colours. Their footsteps are muted against the carpeted floor leading them deeper in the building's core.
"You introduce yourselves, confirm Natsuhiko's identity and then announce the news. I'll have a few questions to ask afterwards and I'll ask for you to wait outside. Tsuragamae's orders."
Todoroki leans down, whispering, "You should announce the news. After all, it's because of you that we left Mrs Schmidt alone."
"And whose idea was it that we interrogated her?"
"Boys, please."
Their discussion is cut short by Tsukauchi's knocks on the door. Midoriya stiffens and instinctively moves behind the detective. Todoroki, however, remains immobile by Tsukauchi's side. The door swings open, revealing a tall man with short, spiky black hair with a huge smile that fades away once his eyes fall on Tsukauchi's police badge.
"Yes, sirs, what can I do for you?" His tremulous voice can't conceal his worry, eyes darting on the three of them before settling back on Tsukauchi.
"Are you Natsuhiko Arata?"
This time it was Todoroki who spoke. Natsuhiko's focus shifts to him, blinking out his confusion.
"Yes. Did something to Liliana? She's my fiancée and she was supposed to come back yesterday but she hasn't…" His face blanches. "Don't tell me…"
"Your fiancée, Liliana Schmidt, was killed during an interrogation. We're terribly sorry."
Todoroki bows to a full ninety degree, hands shaking by his side. His bangs fall in front of his eyes, hiding whatever expression he's making. Tsukauchi glances over his shoulder, eyebrows rising as he notices Midoriya's frozen, eyes unable to look away from Natsuhiko's face.
His mouth is slack, as if the muscles holding his jaw had melted. An earthquake's raking his body, making his legs quiver until he crumbles down, his foundations gone. One hand's clamping his mouth yet isn't enough to mute the sobs bubbling in his throat. When his head snaps up, there's enough water streaming down his eyes to water Medusa for an entire month.
"During an interrogation…? Why were you interrogating her?"
Todoroki seeks approval from Tsukauchi who nods before answering, "She came to us willingly. She had information concerning Tozawa Anri's death."
"They were close but I didn't know… We always promised we would tell each other everything."
"She didn't."
Midoriya doesn't know why he talked. Natsuhiko's distraught expression morphs into rage, mouth curling in a snarl and his body regaining enough energy to make him stand up. He's taller than Midoriya but to the latter, he seems small because of the vulnerability shining in his eyes.
"I want to know."
"It was Mrs Schmidt's wish not to divulge anything to you. She didn't want you to be involved," Todoroki clarifies.
Natsuhiko's demeanour changes like flipping a switch, his ferociousness ebbing away. "Please, I want to know what Lili told you before she died."
What were her last words? Midoriya can't remember but he remembers his own. He told her she couldn't leave Japan since she was a witness but truly, he wanted Schmidt to stay to ask her more personally about Tozawa and her role with the yakuza. Maybe Schmidt knew if others Heroes collaborated with Schmidt, maybe the network ran deeper and corrupted more souls who pledged to protect innocents yet condemned them with the implication with the mafia.
But Tomura had to kill her. Now that he thinks of it, Midoriya can't fathom how the League of villains can benefit from removing her from the map.
"Todoroki-san, Midoriya-kun, wait for me in the lobby."
The last thing Midoriya sees from Natsuhiko is his tear-stained face and his slumping figure receding inside his hotel room.
"I'm hungry. Want to grab a bite somewhere afterwards?"
Todoroki doesn't even glance at him, staying focused on his clasped hands. They're sitting on a couch, far from apart from each other, and while Todoroki looks glum Midoriya only feels the ache in his stomach as it demands to be fed.
"What's wrong with you, Midoriya?"
He frowns, wondering why it was wrong to be hungry. "I didn't eat much for breakfast."
"Dammit, Midoriya, I'm not talking about this. I'm talking about your stoicism."
Stoicism? He's not stoic, far from it. In his eyes, Todoroki's the one lacking emotions with his expression always set in marble. The few times where he sparks to life are provoked by intense moments, often when Midoriya pushes him too far. He's quite his opposite. While Todoroki remains impassive, the slightest things upset Midoriya.
"That's the problem with you."
Midoriya's eyes dart on Todoroki, bemused. The Pro Hero's still looking down but his eyes are glowing coals of amber.
"Tsukauchi can be fooled but I'm not. "
"What are you talking about?" Midoriya smiles.
Todoroki straightens, eyes flaring. "There. Your smile can't conceal what's beneath it. I've seen enough of them to know."
Midoriya doesn't know where this conversation's heading but forces himself to shrug nonchalantly. "Then please enlighten me."
"You provoke me and find it entertaining. You interrogate a woman and remove her freedom. You see a man crumbling down and you shrug it aside because you're hungry."
"What are you trying to say?"
"The last time you urged me to be blunt you didn't like it and this time again I can't guarantee you'll like what you'll hear. You seem to derive a certain satisfaction from seeing others powerless."
Midoriya stares at Todoroki but the latter doesn't move. He's serious. Midoriya chuckles and soon it escalates to full laughter, loud enough to attract the clerk's disapproving gaze. He can't care less. Todoroki's so far from the truth it makes his ribs and cheeks ache.
"What is this? You're a psychologist now?"
"I'm a man of logic. I gather facts and I make deductions. From what I saw, you—"
"I don't want to hear your diagnosis, I'm perfectly fine," Midoriya cuts him off, one hand waving in the air in dismissal. "But seriously, do you want to eat once Tsukauchi-san is done? Since we're partners we should at least try to get to know each other?"
Todoroki grunts but doesn't reject his offer. His head jerks up, his attention riveted to the elevator. Tsukauchi was walking towards them, eyes downcast.
"How was it?" Todoroki inquires.
"It wasn't anything," the detective sighs, one head holding his forehead. "Natsuhiko doesn't want anyone to know about Schmidt's involvement with the criminal world. However, her connection with Tozawa makes her tangled in the Judge's web. I feel like the closer we're getting to catching that bastard, the farther we are from unravelling the truth."
"We'll catch him." Todoroki's voice is unequivocal and his eyes, unmerciful. "We always do."
Midoriya nods slowly, lips twitching. We'll see about that.
"I have to go back to the office now. You two…"
"Todoroki and I are going to eat."
"Oh?" Tsukauchi's broad smile implies he's pleased with the news. "Where are you going?"
"We didn't talk about—"
"We're going to my house. We didn't get to talk about what we're going to eat though. It'll depend of what my mother will cook but no worries, she's an amazing chef. Maybe we can request your favourite dish, Todoroki-kun. What is it?"
The main concerned has trouble hiding his surprise, eyes going wide of a fraction. His lips even part as he struggles for half a second too late to come up with an answer. Midoriya can't be sure what shocked him most between his eating suggestion or the new honorific.
"Soba noodles. The cold one."
"You have good taste. I don't think we have some so let's go to the supermarket first."
"Alright."
Even if Todoroki's answer is dull, Tsukauchi looks overjoyed. "I'm glad to see you two are bonding."
They part ways at the train station, the detective going northeast while they head towards the south. The subway ride is silent, Midoriya not even trying to strike a conversation. With Tsukauchi gone, there's no pressure to act friendly.
Of course it's an act. As Todoroki worded it so eloquently before, there's not much to gain from this partnership but to accumulate enough information to frame him in a believable way. To know everything about him, to know what saddens him, to know what ticks him off, to know the deep darkness in his soul… and to unleash it.
When they reach the supermarket, he lets Todoroki choose the soba noodles, watching from afar. It's unreal to see him standing in the middle of an aisle, fingers lodged under his chin in a pensive position, contemplating the many variations of noodles. The Pro Hero belongs to a dimension superior than his, or so Midoriya thought. Both Pro Heroes and Quirkless people live in the same world although the number of privileges they're given are far from being similar.
"Who's going to pay?"
Midoriya blinks, grinning, "It's my treat. Next time you can pay."
"So you're entailing I'll have to treat you as well."
"Of course. Aren't you the type to prone equality and justice? It'd be just to return the favour, no?"
"Indeed," Todoroki murmurs but it's devoid of any conviction. "How about this one?"
He holds up a brand Midoriya's never tried before so he shrugs with a vigorous nod.
"Sure, why not? You call the shots."
If Todoroki's weirded out by Midoriya's familiarity he doesn't utter a sound.
By the time they walk home it's already eleven thirty. The neighbourhood is bustling with life, business men hurrying to cross the street, a jogger making his daily race with his dog, a group of friends lazing around, tourists taking snaps at the trees coloured with red, orange and yellow hues. If Midoriya forgets he's actually a murderer and hanging with Todoroki of all people he can almost fit in this idyllic life.
Midoriya's apartment is empty when they enter, no shoes to be seen on the carpet in the entrance. Todoroki is quick to point it out as he removes his own shoes.
"Your mother isn't there."
"Maybe she's eating at her job. It doesn't bother you, does it, Todoroki-kun?"
He shakes his head, waiting for Midoriya to lead him further into his home. Since his mother's the one who tends to the house, the main room is clean and the scent of laundry detergent lingers in the air. While Midoriya's bedroom isn't chaotic with clothes strewn on the floor and a desk drowning under papers, it's still much messier than the other rooms in the apartment.
The soba is ready in about fifteen minutes, Midoriya sliding two plates on the table. It's silent as he pours two glasses of water and then sits in front of Todoroki.
"Itadakimasu," Midoriya murmurs before digging in.
Todoroki repeats the word with a slight bow of the head and then begins eating as well. Midoriya watches him from the corner of his eye, gauging his reaction. No emotions cross Todoroki's face as he hums, nodding while slurping his noodles.
"It's good," he declares, as if surprised.
"My mum's training me to be a good cook. If you find this good, you're going to find hers heavenly."
Todoroki's too busy devouring the noodles to answer. Midoriya waits for him to talk, for Todoroki must be asking himself why Midoriya dragged him in his house, but the Pro Hero only opens his mouth to shovel more food in it.
"How about we ask each other questions," Midoriya offers.
Todoroki looks up from his plate, frowning. "Questions?"
He nods, "To get to know each other, yes."
"I don't see any point in doing this."
"If we're to become partners, then I want to know who I'll be fighting with and fighting for. Tsukauchi-san keeps on saying trust goes both ways and I'm willing. Are you?"
Todoroki's quietness seems to go on forever before his cool voice asks, "Who starts?"
"Since I made the suggestion, I'll do." Midoriya feigns deep thinking although he's stringing questions one after the other, weaving the crucial ones with the innocuous once. "Are you a cat or dog person?"
He wouldn't have thought that with this first question already Todoroki would be tilting his head to one side, puzzled. "Are you asking me if I'm more like Tamakawa-san or Tsuragamae-san?"
"What? No, I'm asking you if you're more like a cat or a dog according to your personality."
It looks like Todoroki's never heard of the expression because he keeps on sending him unsure glances. Midoriya sighs.
"For example, I'm more of a cat person. I value my independence and sometimes prefer solitude to people's company, I'm sensitive and kind of neurotic."
"I assume I'm a cat person as well."
Midoriya expects Todoroki to elaborate but it's wishful thinking. He's starting to get used to this feeling, the expectation of nothingness. Todoroki's already moving on to his first question.
"What's your favourite colour?"
"I like grey."
"Grey?" Todoroki repeats. "I'd thought it'd be something much livelier, like green or yellow."
"It's a neutral colour. It can either tend towards black's mysteriousness or silver's redemption yet it stays in the middle, balanced, in control."
"A statu quo," Todoroki murmurs. "I see."
Midoriya's starting to be annoyed by what Todoroki can see. "What about yours?"
"Blue."
"It fits you. It's better than red."
He catches Todoroki straightening, as if attacked by the comment. "Why would the second colour coming to your mind be red?"
"Why wouldn't it be?"
Red may be a colour for some, but for Todoroki it may symbolise the Quirk he half inherited from his father. Blue, on the other hand, represents his mother's. By using colour psychology and a tad of extrapolation, Midoriya's discovered more about his relationship with his family than any words coming out of Todoroki's mouth.
Midoriya sees as well.
"It's my turn to ask a question. If you get a tattoo, what would it be?"
One of Todoroki's eyebrows rise but it settles back quickly to its relaxed position. "I considered getting a tattoo once."
"Really? What kind? Where?"
"A snake curling around my left wrist."
Midoriya will have to look for more symbolism after that because it's not like Todoroki to get something meaningless inked permanently on his skin.
"Why didn't you do it?"
"I overcame it."
Somehow Midoriya knows that Todoroki's not talking about the tattoo but about something bigger, deeper, something he can't wait to discover.
"What's your favourite…" Todoroki stops, pondering, "…sound?"
"Sound? Are you serious?"
"It's a valid question."
It is. Most sounds in his life are aggressive: his alarm clock blaring at five thirty in the morning, subway brakes screeching, police sirens growing louder as he approaches the office, harsh keyboard smashing as he edits reports… Otherwise, there are the background noises he doesn't pay attention to, like people's mindless chatter or his mother's cooking sounds as she chops vegetables, stirs sauces and grills fish. Even when he lies down to sleep, he's not alone because he can hear his mother's snores from the room next to him and sometimes crickets or laughter drifting to his window.
But the noise he always hears and can never stop is own voice soughing in his ears.
"Silence."
Todoroki does the eyebrow thing once more. "Silence?"
"Yes." Realising how contradictory he is, he adds, "Like the silence when you pray in a shrine or when you're on top of a mountain and gazing down at the clouds."
"I've never experienced either of those but I understand."
"You've never prayed in a shrine? Not even on New Year?"
"I don't see why I'd pray for a God who doesn't listen."
"Maybe you didn't pray enough," Midoriya shoots him, shrugging.
"Did He listen to you when you prayed for a Quirk?"
Midoriya is too surprised by Todoroki's counter to be offended. He prefers not answering, rather skipping to the next question.
"Now that we're talking about New Year, did you ever keep a New Year's resolution?"
"Yes."
Midoriya nods encouragingly, "So? What was it?"
"I'm not telling you."
It's not like Midoriya feels like he's being slapped but he leans back, lips pursing. It appears he'll have to reveal more about himself if he wants Todoroki to do the same. Trust truly goes both ways.
"Alright. I never did. Keep a resolution, I mean. It's not that I lack the will to do it, it's just that I don't really take this thing seriously. New Year may be the beginning of a new year but you can create resolutions and change your life whenever you want."
Todoroki doesn't seem moved by his thought. Midoriya interprets his silence as a polite manner to tell him he's already aware of that.
"Are there any bad habits you want to break?"
"Well, I mumble a lot when I'm anxious." This one's such a easy question it's laughable. It's almost a miracle Todoroki has yet to witness his infamous mumbling. "I don't always realise I'm doing it so feel free to tell me to shut up. I won't take it personally."
"Are you prone to mumbling a lot?"
"Yes," Midoriya admits with a sheepish chuckle. "I told you I'm kind of neurotic."
"Does it reduce your stress when you mumble?"
"I never thought about it but I think it does. It's like repressed energy bursting out, you know?"
"Then people shouldn't tell you to shut up."
There are definitely many sides to Todoroki Midoriya isn't familiar with. To see him… perhaps caring isn't the most suitable word but it's the only one popping in Midoriya's mind for the moment. To see him caring, or perhaps it's his logic speaking, is surprising yet there's no denying the respect instilling in Midoriya's mind.
"Who would help you hide a body and why?"
"Yaoyorozu. She's one of my old classmates and honestly the only one I can think of. Still, I can't guarantee that she won't bury my body after that."
"She sounds formidable."
A hint of a fleeting smile curls Todoroki's lips as he whispers, "She is."
"It's your turn," Midoriya reminds him as the silence between them stretches.
"How would you describe the person you'd like to spend your life with?"
Midoriya isn't sure if there's a link with that Yayorozu girl and the current question.
"They have to be kind, compassionate, patient. Loving me for who I am, not who I could be."
"You'd be ready to bare your soul to this person?"
"Of course. If they accept to do the same with me."
The condition's always the same. It's equivalent exchange. If one does something, the other must reciprocate in a certain way. If one gives and the other receives, then the latter must return the favour to fulfil this unspoken debt.
If a Pro Hero takes a life, then the Judge must take his.
"What's the one thing you'd change in society?"
I'd change the way our society judges people.
"One-sided perspectives." Todoroki announces after a few seconds of silence. "Society is based on communication. What we know and how we're shaped is because of our family, friends, teachers, colleagues and other people we're interacting with. We're always in contact with someone through the news, the social networks and even the food we buy at the supermarket. Yet we're not able to communicate properly because we can never know what the others think, how they feel, what they lived through, how they perceive the world and their impression of people."
"So you'd… like us to be all linked telepathically?"
"I want more understanding, more empathy, more wondering, more trying. I know it's impossible to fully comprehend what goes through someone's mind but we should make the effort to acknowledge their opinion and consider their perspective."
"Did you acknowledge the Judge's opinion?"
"It's hard not to so he imposed it by killing three people. However, we're missing pieces. Even if it's clear that he committed crimes and that he'll probably be incarcerated, I want to know what pushed him to go this far, to grasp his character."
"There's not much to see," Midoriya smiles mirthlessly.
"Perhaps, but I want to see what there is. I want to understand."
"Don't we all? The thirst for knowledge sometimes is bigger than the one for money or power."
"And you, Midoriya, I assume the one you'd change in society is how the majority of people are blessed with a Quirk but others like you are not."
The conversation has shifted to him before he realises it. He underestimated Todoroki, after all. He may not be a person who talks a lot but when he does, he knows how to.
"I never said—"
"So answer my question," Todoroki continues, "what Quirk would you want to have?"
Midoriya's never thought about it. He dreamed of having one, yes, but he didn't have a definite idea. He desires the essence, what it entails to have a Quirk, the sense of belonging it procures. Stripped bare, a Quirk's but a power you're born with. You don't get to choose it. You have it or you don't, it's that simple. It's a bit like talent. Some are talented singers while others can never hit the right notes, no matter how hard they tried.
A tone deaf person wouldn't know what to answer if asked what song they'd like to sing if they suddenly possessed a musical ear.
"I'd take anything," Midoriya confesses. "It goes without saying that I'd like to have a Quirk like All Might or like yours but that's not the point. It's the wielder who brings out the best of his Quirk, not the other way around. So I'd take anything and I'd work with it to help people."
"That's a good answer."
It never occurred to Midoriya before this precise instant that Todoroki could also be testing him. The man's smart, a frighteningly rational smart type, who occasionally trials him.
Midoriya smiles. He's starting to like this.
"My turn," he declares, bubbling with zeal. "Who's the person who influenced you the most?"
"What do you mean by 'influence'?"
"The one person who had the most impact on your life, whether positively or negatively, and who shaped you the way you are."
Midoriya marvels at the brooding expression overtaking his features. His entire body is like a coiled spring, tense, and his jaw is clenched hard enough to crack nuts. Shadows catch his face, highlighting his turquoise eye's gleam in contrast with his scarred, purplish skin.
"Following this definition, I'll have to say my father."
Midoriya keeps on pushing, "It must've been intense to have Endeavor as a father, no?"
"Intense is the right word."
"After all, you possess his Quirk on top of your mother's. I guess he trained you to become a Hero even before Yuuei, so you must be thankful for his teachings."
Todoroki's eyes darken. "It is true he did train me."
"The world of Pro Heroes was already yours the second you were born. It's like a dream, isn't it?"
"I also thought it was too unreal to be true."
"But it is true and that's why it's amazing. You owe your father a lot. I hope you realise it."
This time, Todoroki doesn't answer. He rises, taking the now empty plates in his hands, and carries them to the kitchen. Instead of coming back, he remains planted where he is and turns the faucet, hot water gushing out in the sink where he dumps the dishes. He fumbles with the drawers, looking for the liquid dish detergent and the sponge.
"I can wash them later, Todoroki-kun. Besides, it's my job since you're my guest."
"How do you judge people, Midoriya?"
Midoriya's smile is frozen as he hesitates. Perhaps he misheard. That must be it. Todoroki's causing a ruckus by grabbing more cookware and tossing it along with the plates.
"Todoroki-kun?"
"Please answer the question."
The sound of flowing water fills the room. The friendly atmosphere has soured. Midoriya senses it, like the clouds covering a clear sky a little too fast, or the slight breeze picking up speed and blowing through the fields. Even if seeing Todoroki washing his dishes in his own kitchen makes him want to laugh, he feels nothing but skyrocketing dread.
"I wouldn't change how some people have Quirk while others don't. That's not the root of the problem. What bothers me with society is the way to judge, the criteria with which we determine a person's worth. According to them, I'm more of a liability than anything since I'm Quirkless. That's something I was led to believe and that I believed until very recently."
Todoroki's listening attentively, even if he's drowning the dishes with soap and scrubbing them clean. Midoriya's grateful he doesn't have to stare at Todoroki's face and unblinking eyes. His back's much more welcoming.
"I also concede that one sided perspectives plague our society, and that makes it even harder to judge a person. There's no correct way to judge a person without being omniscient. I think there'll always be a slight margin of error that can be fatal in condemning people or letting them roam free. However, there are actions that differentiate people. Your helpfulness, for example."
Todoroki stills for a second, grunting, "What do you mean?"
"You cleaning the dishes while you're the guest demonstrate that you're a generous nature. Most people would shrug it off, saying that since they're the guest they shouldn't help. It's a sign of benevolence and of a polite behaviour."
"This is nonsense."
"It's not. You'd be surprised how much we learn about someone just by observing their actions and reactions. It still baffles me, to be honest."
Todoroki puts a plate on the dish rack, watching his work. His hands are red, glistening with water, and foam coats his knuckles.
"Why didn't you put the rubber gloves? They were right next to the dish detergent."
"It's your turn," Todoroki tells him, ignoring him.
"What did you first think of me when we met and has your view changed?"
The Pro Hero meets his eyes. "What I first thought of you?"
"Be honest," Midoriya confirms, although Todoroki's always been honest with him.
"I thought you didn't quite fit in. You don't have the body, the eyes, the presence of a police officer. Despite having none of these attributes, I think I know why Tsukauchi keeps you around. You're perspicacious and astute but you're a loose one. The second he looks away, you'll be gone."
"And now?"
"And now, nothing. I don't know enough about you to add anything more." Todoroki turns to him, bowing. "Today was insightful. Thank you."
Midoriya stares, then reveals, "I thought you were giving yourself mysterious airs when we first met. On the phone, you sounded half-asleep, as if you didn't care much about your Hero Office. Then we… disagreed on many things but you always were so composed. I wanted to break what I thought was a facade but it seems you really always are silent and poised."
Todoroki sits back in front of him, again proving Midoriya right by expressing no emotion whatsoever. There's a pause, as if Todoroki's bracing himself, then he offers him a smile. It's more a line with its edges pointing upwards than a natural curve but Midoriya appreciates the effort.
"Actually, I was sleeping when you called me. My Hero Office's my apartment."
Midoriya would've thought a Pro Hero as powerful and experienced as Todoroki would be working in a building twice the size of the Police Force's with a horde of sidekicks.
"If I gave you the impression that I was arrogant, I apologise. I don't consider myself arrogant but I believe in my abilities. I also may appear standoffish since I'm not used to working with people."
"But didn't you have teamwork assignments at Yuuei?"
It's a false question because Midoriya knows exactly what the lucky Yuuei students learn. Once in a lifetime, when he believed he had a chance of passing the exams, he devoured the academic pamphlet talking about the numerous classes offered to those in the Heroic program. It's more demanding since a supplementary class is added at the end of the day and on top of homework, students go through simulations and summer camps, but in Midoriya's eyes it was paradise.
Teamwork is one of the basics of Yuuei's Heroic program. Pro Heroes have to help each other since they're striving towards the same goal. Yuuei teaches its students how fundamental it is to put aside any animosity or competition between Pro Heroes when lives are at stake. If Todoroki says he's not used to it, does it mean he focuses on himself?
"I prefer battling one on one while others rescue civilians. Yaoyorozu berated me when I acted like that. 'Trust your comrades', she always told me."
Midoriya chews his lower lip, cursing himself for thinking so fast, for judging so fast. With Todoroki's terrific power, Midoriya has no doubts that he can fend for himself just fine but this Yaoyorozu is right. Pro Heroes have to collaborate. There may be situations where his Quirk will be handier to save civilians instead of fighting, thus Todoroki must have faith in his comrades' skills and and accept his position.
Of course, in their situation, Todoroki will most likely distract criminals while Midoriya sneaks around and sabotages. But should come a time when the roles are reversed…
"You can trust me, Todoroki-kun. I may not look like much but I—"
Midoriya jolts, his phone buzzing in his pocket. He's ready to mute it when he catches the name on the screen: Moonstone. He excuses himself to Todoroki and doesn't wait for his answer, slipping away and locking himself in his bedroom.
"What do you want? I'm busy."
"Oh, so you're done weeping? I need you to come at headquarters now."
"I'll gladly come later because we have to clear some things but right now I'm—"
"Kozo, don't force me to drag you here by myself. That Hero you're with doesn't stand a chance. Do you want a second round of our last encounter?"
His breath hitches, his hand unconsciously moving to where his injury's healing, fingers ghosting over his shirt. It's not that he worries about Todoroki but it would be hard to explain to his mother that a Pro Hero was murdered in her house.
"It won't be necessary. Give me five minutes."
"Make it two. Kurogiri's contacting your agents and then it's your turn."
Midoriya storms out of his room to see Todoroki already in the entrance, putting on his shoes. The latter perks up, offering him once more his strained smile.
"I figured my presence has become an inconvenience."
"What are you saying? I enjoyed this conversation."
It's the truth. Todoroki isn't a bad guy, not even a bad Pro Hero. His silence may be intimidating but once it's broken, despite his curt answers, he's pleasant to talk to. He doesn't have his mother's overprotective nature or Tsukauchi's awkward boss-trying-to-be-friendly attitude. While they might not entirely be equals, it's refreshing to feel like they are. Todoroki doesn't belittle him, doesn't walk on eggshells and doesn't worry too much as if Midoriya's a helpless child.
"I didn't expect it but I enjoyed it as well."
As blunt as ever. He walks out with Todoroki up to the stairs, leaning on the banister as he watches the Pro Hero leaving.
"We'll see each other in a week at the office?"
Todoroki looks up with narrowed eyes. "Don't I have to treat you as well?"
"It doesn't have to be in the same week, you know."
"I insist." Midoriya can't fathom how he can remain so calm while asking this. "I'll text you the date and location."
Midoriya nods distractedly before shaking his head in realisation.
"Wait, how come you have my phone number?"
But Todoroki's already left the building, the door closing noiselessly behind him. Midoriya sighs, retreating inside his apartment. He falters when he sees Kurogiri's putting away the plates Todoroki washed in his kitchen. Midoriya doesn't what's worse between the fact that Kurogiri's acting like his mother or that he knows exactly where the plates go.
"Midoriya," the villain bows once he notices him. "It's time."
"Are you sure it's alright that I'm wearing my police uniform?"
"I don't see any problem. Now, step forward. Tomura's impatient."
Midoriya complies, the gut-twisting sensation he feels each time he's stepping through Kurogiri's warp gates almost makes him puke his lunch. His entrance isn't very dignified, with one hand over his mouth and the other clutching his stomach, his face turning as green as his hair. Dabi's snickering while Toga lunges at Midoriya, a wide grin splitting her face.
"Congratulations on your first kill!"
"T-Thanks," he manages to choke, asking Tomura for help by sending him a desperate glance.
The villain wrenches him from Toga, growling, "It's enough."
As soon as he's free, Tomura wraps a arm around his neck like a wrestling headlock. Midoriya winces at the harsh grip but doesn't try to pull free since any resistance could result in his neck being disintegrated by Tomura's Quirk.
"What's this little tryst about with Endeavor Number Two?"
"It wasn't anything romantic. We were discussing. I want to frame him for the Judge's crimes."
Tomura breaks into a grin, swirling around to face the other villains.
"Attention, gentlemen, lady," he adds as he snorts towards Toga. "I present you… the Judge."
Toga claps excitedly, her shrill peals of laughter as painful as Tomura's hold. Dabi rolls his eyes, clearly questioning himself why he's here, and Kurogiri blinks in silence. Tomura releases Midoriya, then pushes him forward. He stumbles and almost falls flat in his face but catches himself on the sofa. He looks up to ravenous eyes, a bored moue and a stoical expression.
Midoriya's aware he's supposed to make a speech but his lips are sealed, no words coming in his mind. He startles when Tomura's hand falls on his shoulder.
"The first blood has been spilled by the disciples, proving their worth. Now that the Judge himself has bitten the sweetest fruit, the forbidden one of murder, the ball is officially open. Tell me, Judge, have you chosen your next victim?"
"I…" The list was long and cleansing would take time but… he doesn't know. "I made categories. There are three infractions that can be done and for now, I've… we've selected people who broke all of them. I call them the duties"
"You did mention on your website the type of crime the Pro Heroes you selected committed," Kurogiri notes.
"Yes. There are three duties: duty to act, to rescue and to honour. The duty to act urges Pro Heroes to take action when they witness villainy. If they think their being alone won't suffice, then they're bound to call for reinforcements and evacuate the civilians present.
"The duty to rescue entails that they have to save and protect civilians who call for help and those they find on their path. If Pro Heroes face the choice of pursuing a villain or saving a life, they must choose the latter.
"Finally, the duty to honour consists of being transparent and committing no crimes, whether it corresponds to violating the duties mentioned above or to crimes related to their personal life. Pro Heroes mustn't get involved with any crimes of any kinds and of any gravity.
"I was thinking we could all strike in one night with a few hours between each crime, targeting one who failed in each category. It would reinforce the message that Pro Heroes who are guilty must be judged and will be judged."
The reactions he receives aren't the most enthusiastic but it also isn't plain rejection. There's hope.
"I'll select the victims this week," Midoriya declares, pouring authority in his voice. "Let's meet here around ten in the evening and I'll tell you the plan."
"Because there's a plan?" Dabi interjects. "Didn't know we were following one."
"This is so exciting, I can't wait!" Toga cackles.
Yes, there is hope.
"If you may, I shall take you back to where I picked you."
Toga's the first to leave after sending a butterfly kiss in Midoriya's direction, hopping in Kurogiri's portal without hesitation. Dabi's slower as he approaches the swirling gate, glancing over his shoulder to glare at Midoriya.
"I don't know why I bothered coming here."
He disappears with one last snort, leaving Midoriya alone with the League's members. Tomura's quick to drop on the couch at his usual spot, sprawling his legs on the table before him. It's a new one, Midoriya notices, not made of glass like the previous one but of sturdy metal.
"The brat will come back," Tomura assures him. "He would've left before if he wasn't interested."
"What was your agreement with Tozawa?"
The villain isn't fazed by Midoriya's abruptness, rather nodding pensively as he scratches his neck.
"Ah, yes, you killed her. A regrettable choice and a poor execution. Tozawa was our information broker, providing us with some Heroes' whereabouts and future meetings. But we don't need her anymore since we have you, do we?"
"Why did you kill Liliana Schmidt?"
Tomura's smile doesn't waver. "Because Liliana Schmidt knew who you were."
Midoriya's heart skips a beat. It can't be. She would've recognised him when he entered with Todoroki. She would've said something.
"She saw you getting out of Tozawa's apartment. I assumed she wanted to tell the police but when she realised one of her interrogators was in the room… well, her hands were tied. When you left her alone, it was evident Todoroki was about to send you away while he would resume the interrogation and she would've told him. So I killed her."
Something's wrong.
"You know too much."
"You are right, my dear Judge."
Midoriya stiffens, moving into a defensive stance. The voice came from behind Tomura but there's nothing there except for a computer. Midoriya's never seen it active, for not even Tomura touches it, even if he likes to play video games on any type of console he can find. He classified it as a forgotten object gathering dust in the corner. He should've known the League disposes of anything that doesn't fulfil a specific goal.
"I say he fails, Sensei," Tomura declares, his attention fixed on Midoriya.
"He doesn't, on the contrary."
Midoriya's convinced now that the voice comes from the computer. He lowers his fists but can't shake the tension out of his body. For someone as childish and stubborn as Tomura to call a man his sensei, a revered master, he must be the true League of Villain's leader.
"I've been observing you from afar," the voice continues, addressing himself to Midoriya. "Schmidt was endangering your position so I asked Tomura to neutralise her. It would've been a shame for your journey to be cut so short. I've seen everything there is to be seen from the birth of your concept, its realisation, your doubts, your fear, your awakening…"
A shiver rakes Midoriya's body. "Pardon me but who are you?"
"You may know me as All for One but if you don't, it doesn't matter. You'll learn soon enough who I am."
"Sensei, he's not worth it," Tomura growls. "His plans don't make sense."
"Hush, Tomura. The Judge has exceeded his first impression and passed the test."
Midoriya feels like he's intruding, like he's eavesdropping a secret conversation he shouldn't be hearing, and Tomura's glower doesn't help. He considers asking Kurogiri to take him home when the voice — All for One — speaks again.
"Midoriya Izuku, it's time for society to consider you seriously."
Midoriya has trouble breathing. He wonders if it's his imagination or if the temperature climbed of a few degrees, making his palms clammy and his clothes stick to his skin.
"How about I grant you your deepest wish and give you a Quirk?"