Disclaimer: Both Street Fighter and My Hero Academia belong to each of their respective franchises. I claim no ownership whatsoever.

If there was one thing Toshinori was truly thankful for, it was that they were there to catch Midoriya Inko before her body could crumple to the floor. He picked up the poor woman in a bridal carry while Tsukauchi stood guard. The last thing they wanted was for someone to catch a glimpse of them, prompting him and Gouki to move quickly. If it came to that, they could just allay any suspicion by flashing a badge, though the officer would have preferred not to.

Toshinori knew that what they were doing could hardly be called heroic; or hell, legal. Without the resident's consent, this was plainly trespassing. The only thing that would have sold this was if they were wearing balaclavas. But if Gouki was right, and the child held within him a power that could potentially cause an insurmountable amount of damage, then what else was a hero to do but see such a dilemma through.

All three of them were dressed to impress, or just to avoid being mistaken for criminals or villains. Toshinori was wearing his best suit, as was Tsukauchi. Gouki, on the other hand, had donned a traditional yukata. They would have gotten him a suit of his size (and there had been plenty to choose from, which Interpol was more than generous to lend), but the man had expressed his distaste for such garb, as he had never worn one in his life and had no plans to anytime soon. The colors of the yukata were an indigo blue, with striking wave patterns that painted the ocean. His once unruly white hair was now pulled back into a neat topknot, giving him a more dignified appearance that greatly contrasted the animalistic style they found him in.

They had become so engrossed in their conversations that they had neglected a most pressing quandary, one that came to them only after the tension had completely subsided the following morning.

Gouki stunk.

Years in the ice had obviously not done wonders for the man's hygiene, prompting the three of them to scour for the bath. Fortunately, and perhaps knowing his brother a little too well, Gouken had previously installed one that was more than adequate for its new resident. Gouki was more than capable of taking a bath on his own. In fact, when he was done, they could swear that there was a sheen to him. Not that they were bold enough to voice it out.

Charlie volunteered to give Gouki a haircut, only to have the man refuse as well, since he was used to cutting his own hair. Toshinori had read in his file that Gouki had no fixed address, a vagabond that was self-sufficient and lived off the land. Toshinori asked if he ever had a roof over his head, and the man admitted that he took refuge in caves, otherwise he was content to lie under the stars if there was a grassy field.

Toshinori then asked if Gouki had any legal documents to speak of, only for Guile to answer in the negative. All they had to go on were the statements Gouken made when Interpol came to question him about his life before his training. As far as they knew, he and his brother Gouken were born to a couple of rice farmers who lived off the grid. One night, when Gouki was no more than 13 years old, they were attacked by bandits who specifically sought out their father, who had been a friend and fellow practitioner of their future master, Goutetsu. His name was Yoshinori, while her mother's name was Akiko. Normally, Toshinori wouldn't have pried in a man's life like this, but he felt that he had to take steps to understand Gouki better. It had been a private conversation out of earshot while Gouki was busy getting himself in order.

However, Yoshinori was but an alias. Their father's true name was Gyūki, and when he still went by that identity, he had worked as an assassin for hire in the underworld. The leader of the bandits that had come to their home was the son of a man that Gyūki had killed, seeking vengeance. With the exception of their father who chose to remain in order to confront their attackers, the two of them with their mother managed to escape with their lives, but had been forced to live in the wilds out of fear that the bandits would find them.

Not long after their lives were upended, Gouken would argue with his brother, who grew upset over their situation, not solely because of the bandits, but also because they had not been strong enough to fend them off. Things would take a turn when Gouki began disparaging their mother, who had fallen to illness from the trauma of their ordeal, and it would be one last dispute over food that Gouki would leave to hunt by himself, for they were barely scraping by. To his regret, Gouken should have stopped his brother that day.

For it was there that their fates had truly begun to untwine.

When Gouki did not return from his hunt, Gouken worriedly went looking for him. He had searched for days, but could not go too far nor for too long. As luck would have it, or perhaps fate, he found Gouki under the care and tutelage of their father's friend, Goutetsu. Satisfied, he chose to watch his brother from afar while he continued to care for their mother.

That would be Gouken's second mistake.

In a few short years, and after their mother had succumbed, Gouken would seek out Goutetsu to train under him as Gouki did, who had left for Tokyo.

"He went to Tokyo?" Naomasa asked, sitting on a stone bench in the front yard. "What did he do there?"

"Interpol had done some digging in the past to try and catch Gouki, investigating where there was even the slightest trace of him, and what they found was that he had lived in the city for a few years, getting by on part-time jobs and manual labor, but there was one place that had the most to say about him. It was an old underground fighting arena that he sometimes visited," Charlie replied. "The owner, as it turned out, had invited Gouki, hoping to make money off of him. In his debut match, however, he killed his opponent, an American".

Toshinori pressed his lips grimly. "So even back then…"

"Did he stay there?" Naomasa asked, moving the conversation along.

"No," Charlie said with a shake of her head. "He left shortly thereafter and returned to Goutetsu's dojo, where he underwent the final phase of his training. After that, the rest is history."

"That's…it?" Toshinori prodded.

"Sorry, but that was the most that Gouken was willing to part with," Charlie finished, righting herself from a stone lantern she was leaning against with her arms folded. "I have a feeling you're not gonna like the rest if he did."

Toshinori was sitting next to Naomasa, who was having his own musings over this new information. It would seem that Gouki was a man that had come to be defined by his past, for even as a boy, there already seemed to be a spark within him. A spark that, through trials and hardships he had overcome with unwavering tenacity, grew into an inferno that burned away all that he was attached to. His home, his family, and eventually, his humanity. Yet, the Gouki of the present might as well be a different man. Sure, he still seemed pretty rough here and there, but overall, he was calm and pensive.

Still, none of them had any illusions that Gouki was a good man, but perhaps through his wanderings, he had gained a wisdom that had tempered his fierce soul. In any case, his obsessive drive to satisfy his hunger for carnage seemed to be long behind him.

Charlie was grateful that her words had failed to trigger Naomasa's Quirk. Gouken had indeed revealed what had happened after they had both completed the final phase. Though he could never bring himself to forgive the men for what they had done to his family, he refused the lure of revenge.

The same could not be said for his younger brother.

Gouki went down the mountain to a neighboring village where the bandits had made their home. It had been a test, a test to see if they would give in to the darkness, and Gouki had indeed fallen, killing not only the bandits, but also their families and the rest of the villagers. Only one managed to survive, whom Gouken had rescued on time.

Charlie perked up when she saw someone coming out of the house, and it could only be Gouki, dressed more formally in a dark purple yukata under a haori of the same color. His white hair, which had been wild and unkempt, was now shorter and pulled back into a traditional top knot.

Both Toshinori and Naomasa could hardly believe it was the same man as he marched up to them, for Gouki had discarded all of his old trappings, the only thing remaining being his disregard for footwear. Now, in the current society, certain items of clothing were not as mandatory or enforced. Either you couldn't physically wear clothing, or it had to be custom made. The most common reason was being a heteromorph or some other form of mutation. Less common was that custom clothing cost extra, which forced many to sew their own.

It was still a surreal sight, they had to admit. Like an actual 'Before, After' catalog.

"He…actually looks pretty good," Naomasa remarked in disbelief. "Now if he could just do something about his face."

"No," Charlie said. "Not his face. His feet." She shot a pointed glance down at said appendages. "You can't go around barefoot, Gouki."

Gouki gave the girl a long look, inciting some tension from the other two men. That was before he turned around, presumably to put on a pair.

"What now, Agent Guile?" Toshinori turned to the young woman. The agent raised a finger as she pulled out a phone.

She flipped it open, pressed the speed dial, and it rang once before there was an answer. "It's me. Yes, sir. No, sir. Yes, they're with me." She looked to the duo, who stood back in silence. "There were no complications. No, I'm asking if it's done. Uh-huh. Right. Yes, sir." Guile then ended the conversation. "That was Headquarters. What now, gentlemen, is that Gouki is no longer off the radar. Interpol has taken the liberty of forging an identity for him. Publicly available records, ID, the works." From their curious looks, she continued. "He can't exactly be a ghost forever. Given what we learned last night, he's going to need a paper trail in case people start asking questions or poking their noses where they shouldn't."

"Wh-Seriously?" Naomasa blinked in amazement. "That fast?"

"Well, it's not like we didn't have much to work with," Guile pointed out. "Oh, we've tweaked a few things, but really just minor details."

"Is that even adequate?" Toshinori questioned in worry, leaving unsaid if it was even legal.

"Let's just say it'll make things a bit easier," Guile answered.

"Easier," Naomasa griped sarcastically. "Don't tell me we're actually going through with that. I mean, a kid?"

"It's not like we're gonna abduct him," Charlie said in a serious tone. "That is the very last thing any of us would want." She then turned to Gouki, who had arrived shortly, now wearing a pair of wooden geta sandals. "Right?"

The imposing man merely grunted, but said nothing, which did very little to allay them.

"I'm still against it," Naomasa vouched.

"And none of us object to that, Naomasa," Charlie assured him. "If things were different, we would just leave the kid be. But as things stand, the incident that happened before Gouki showed up cannot simply be understated."

"Incident?" Toshinori repeated in confusion, before it dawned on him. "The bullying."

"Right," Charlie nodded. "Some of our guys checked out the playground where it happened. According to what witnesses were there, Midoriya Izuku retaliated violently against Bakugo Katsuki after the latter destroyed the swingset with his Quirk. While Izuku was on it."

Toshinori gaped. He did see the wreckage, but for a boy to even torment another like that. "If sufficiently provoked, Young Midoriya might lose control once more. Is that right, Miss Guile?"

"It might not even be from provocation," Charlie speculated. "The Satsui no Hadō could prove itself unpredictable. Like Naomasa mentioned last night, the kid is a ticking time bomb. As he grows older, the more dominant the power might become and overwhelm him without the proper training."

Toshinori contemplated deeply on this conundrum they had in their hands. If they were going to go through with this, they couldn't afford the wrong course of action. The last thing they wanted was for a hero to get a whiff of their activities. He almost chuckled at the irony of it all, since his train of thought wasn't exactly all that different from a criminal or villain planning a crime. On the other hand, how they were going to do it would have to be as legal as possible.

Midoriya residence…

Toshinori seriously reconsidered his decisions, as this was not getting off to a good start at all. Sure, he had held some reservations over this, but they were all in agreement that if left on his own, Gouki would undoubtedly choose the alternative. It was largely the reason why they had accompanied him.

Gouki himself stood in a corner, his arms crossed over his broad chest. Midoriya Inko lay on the couch with Toshinori at her side. The Number One Hero got up and went to the door to check on Naomasa, just before the door opened again for the detective to slip in. Silently, they went back to the living room where, to their alarm, Inko was already stirring. Toshinori cast a quick glance at Gouki out of the corner of his eye before slowly shuffling towards her, stopping only when he was about two meters away from the woman. When she awoke, her eyes slowly shifted, a glazed look of confusion on her face.

It was at this moment that Toshinori decided to speak. "Midoriya-san." The woman blinked, closing her eyes tightly before opening them to look in his direction to follow his voice.

"Wha..." Inko croaked, her foggy vision slowly clearing to find a very emaciated looking man staring down at her with concern in his sunken eyes.

Toshinori cleared his throat. "Midoriya-san, are you alright?"

The poor woman slowly turned her head to the ceiling, her mind scrambling over what had happened to find herself on her back, apparently lying on her couch, and with a man...

It was then that her most recent memories came flooding back, and she sat up with a gasp, whipping her head around as her peripherals caught a very familiar figure standing across her living room, his red eyes boring holes into her and causing all the air in her lungs to leave. Another gasp and she shrank back into the couch, scared speechless.

Toshinori's shoulders dropped, while Naomasa could only sigh defeatedly. "Midoriya-san, calm down."

"Wh-Wh-Wh-Who a-a-a-a-are y-y-y-y-you people?" Inko stammered in panic, curling up into a ball and pulling a pillow into her arms for safety. "Wh-Wh-Wh-What do you want?!"

"Midoriya-san, w-we mean you no harm!" Toshinori stammered, his hands gesturing for her to calm down. "Y-You fainted after you opened the door."

This seemed to catch the woman off guard, yet her eyes were still wide with panic. "Eh?"

Seeing his chance, Toshinori pressed forward. "Midoriya-san, do you recognize us?" He pointed at both himself and Naomasa, who reluctantly revealed his badge.

Trembling, Inko looked at both of them, while shooting a few glances at the man behind them. "Y…Yes," she fumbled, memories of the two men slowly coming back to her. "Wh-What are you doing back here?"

"First, just calm down," Toshinori gently implored. "Like I said, we're not here to cause you any harm. Not at all. Far from it. The reason for our visit back here was that something came up after the police did their investigation in connection to what happened to your son."

"I…Investigation?" Inko repeated questioningly, refusing to let her guard down. "Wh-What about my son?"

Toshinori gathered his wits and shot a meaningful glance at Naomasa. The detective stepped forward to introduce himself to the woman once more. "Ma'am, as you may recall, I'm Inspector Tsukauchi Naomasa. I came here in response to a disturbance that was phoned in by Yagi-san." He gestured to Toshinori, who bowed respectfully. "And…you may also recall…Gouki-san."

Gouki did not offer the same courtesy, simply keeping his silence as he averted his gaze from them now.

The woman still looked frightened, but otherwise gave a gentle nod. "This is going to take some time to explain, for the matter we are about to discuss with you... involves what happened last we were here," Naomasa continued. "Is your husband home?"

Inko swallowed. "He-He's at his workplace."

Naomasa nodded. "Good. It's better that he's here in order for both parents to be informed. D-Don't be alarmed, ma'am." He sputtered when he saw a shift in the woman's expression. "Trust me, we're not here to cause you any harm. We just want to speak to you in order to clarify a few things."

Inko regained some of her bearings after hearing this. "Sh-Shouldn't you…have…a warrant for something like this?"

"That's true, ma'am," Naomasa replied with a sigh. "But under certain circumstances, your given consent would have sufficed, since we only came here to talk. Unfortunately, well..."

Inko winced in slight embarrassment, but she only fainted when she saw the man who had come to her home with her son and Katsuki in tow, doing God knows what to them before they ran into her arms. His wild appearance was a big part of the impression they got. A crazed homeless man, a kidnapper, he could have been either, and he had not said a word to explain himself or to dispute their assumptions before he was taken by the police.

"Ma'am," Naomasa began again, "if you're worried about Gouki-san, you needn't be. We took him to the station and questioned him. As it turns out, he had no intention of harming the boys that day. But, there was a reason as to why he was there."

"A…reason?"

Toshinori decided to take it from there. "Yes," he said with a nod, "Gouki-san works as a martial arts instructor. He runs a dojo in Gifu. He stopped here in Musutafu as part of a training trip when he found your son being bullied. He intervened and took it upon himself to bring him home. Unfortunately, due to some...rather tense misunderstandings, he didn't have the opportunity to explain himself properly." Or that he hadn't bothered speaking at all.

Inko's eyes widened and she looked at Gouki again, the fear that had been on her expression slowly giving way to awe. He hadn't meant to harm the boys? He had only been there to help her son?

"You…were helping Izuku?" She choked out, some tears welling in her eyes. Toshinori acted immediately, bringing out a handkerchief. She took it from him gratefully. "I…I'm sorry, but we were just scared."

"Understandable, and Gouki-san does not hold it against you," Toshinori assured her. "He probably doesn't care, either."

"U-Um, and…you are?" Inko asked the emaciated man.

Toshinori, having waited for this, smoothly brought out a business card and presented it to her, "My name is Yagi Toshinori, I work as a Secretary-Manager at Might Tower."

Inko's eyes bulged after processing what the man had said. Might Tower? The Agency of the Number One Hero?! In her apartment?! She was tempted to call for her son, but he was in his room, resting from their trip to the clinic. "Might Tower? Wh-What brings you here?"

In the days before following his homecoming, Toshinori had invited Gouki to Might Tower, who reluctantly agreed after some persuasion. From there, he hoped to gain some insight. The building was a luxury skyscraper in Roppongi, where more than five hundred people were employed. It had been years since Gouki had set foot in Tokyo, and to his indifference, not much had changed in his personal opinion. It was still as extravagantly decadent as he remembered. Even more so when he looked up at the building once they arrived, which... reminded him of another he had once raided.

The walk through the lobby was fraught with awkward looks and wary stares, which Toshinori had to feebly wave off as Gouki being a guest that he invited. He was in his powered down form, wearing a gray suit, while Gouki was garbed in an equally gray yukata under a black haori. To those who saw him, many of them were expectedly intimidated, mostly not because of his appearance, but of the aura he seemed to exude, coupled by his sharp red eyes.

They couldn't help the curiosity that managed to seep through the tension. Who was this man? A hero? An associate set to meet with their boss? Questions rang through the staff once word spread, and Toshinori just knew that Mirai would be having a field day of his own if he ever set his sights on Gouki, or worse, used his Quirk on him.

That is, if Mirai was still with him.

Once they entered the elevator, Toshinori adjusted his tie, sending some looks Gouki's way as the man had remained taciturn the entire time. "This is a hero agency. Erm, my hero agency, you could say."

"..."

"..."

Toshinori stopped himself from clearing his throat, the air around them noticeably more uncomfortable than it had been on the first floor. "I'm sure you're not really interested, but hero offices like this provide a valuable service to the community. Not only in terms of employment, but also as responders in times of crisis. Offices like this also serve as a hero's base of operations. This is where I do all my business. Getting ready for hero work, attending meetings, and the occasional interview. We also have state-of-the-art training facilities and a medical infirmary. Pretty good cafeteria too, in case you're feeling peckish."

Toshinori spoke a bit more animatedly as he trailed off, but his friendly smile fell when Gouki remained unresponsive. "You're probably wondering why I brought you here." There was a moment of silence before he added, "I thought I could give you a tour of the place. Give you a firsthand glimpse into what drives society these days. Heroes. People using the gifts they were born with to help others, give back to the community and maintain peace."

"..."

"I know you're the furthest thing from a hero anyone, including me, could ever call," Toshinori admitted. "But after hearing about your life, I think I understand you better than I can accept you."

"My life…?"

"Uh, yes," Toshinori fidgeted. "Charlie…told us a bit about your past."

"...There is very little that you understand," Gouki proclaimed flatly.

Toshinori's gaze fell. "I suppose."

"...It's been so long since I ever cared about the past," Gouki continued. "I threw away everything that mattered little in the pursuit of my goal."

"Your goal?"

"To reach the pinnacle of strength," Gouki declared. "To achieve the ultimate enlightenment through nothing but the purity of battle. To this end, I trained relentlessly, meditated, and fought countless adversaries. I spared those who did not deserve death, only imparting them a warning to spread the word so that others may come to challenge me. This is how I began after I left my master's dojo."

Toshinori felt a chill run through the elevator. "Your master, Goutetsu. He took you in after you left your mother and brother."

Gouki huffed through his nose. "That has no longer any bearing to me. Once I saw the path to take, I never looked back".

"I can't imagine a life like that," Toshinori admitted. "It sounds lonely."

"As if you are a stranger to such loneliness," Gouki shot back, earning a look from Toshinori and just as the elevator opened.

They walked the rest of the way to Toshinori's main office. Before his hand reached for the doorknob, he heard Gouki say. "It was never meant for me."

Toshinori kept his eyes on the door. "A life that you and many others would consider...normal. It was not the life I was meant to live."

Toshinori hesitated for a moment longer. "You killed your master. Didn't you?"

A silent yes was his answer.

"That is not something I can ever forgive."

Toshinori's tone was cold for the first time that Gouki had heard it, yet he remained unrattled.

The door clicked open, and Toshinori motioned Gouki inside, and he would have entered had he not trained his sights straight ahead, his visage illuminated by the window. Someone was already there.

"Toshinori."

Toshinori froze, still facing Gouki. "When did you get here?"

"Inside. Now."

It took them a full minute to comply, the tension having reached its peak. As soon as the door was closed, the man standing by the window, hands clasped behind him, turned around, a sharp glare meeting Gouki's behind pointy-rimmed glasses. "Is he a guest, Toshinori?"

The Number One Hero, who was hanging his suit by a coat rack, paused before replying, "You could say that. Mirai. This is Gouki." He saw no point in denying or hiding it, but perhaps he could mitigate the fallout, if not delay it. "He's a martial arts instructor from Gifu. I invited him here after seeing his work in person during a visit I made the previous week."

Mirai's flat stare was boring deeply into Gouki. "His work?"

Toshinori moved behind his desk and threw himself into his chair. "I thought I needed to broaden the scope of my physical therapy, so I went looking for someone who could help me stay in shape."

"You've had plenty of that already," Mirai pointed out, his eyes never leaving Gouki's as he shuffled closer, stopping three meters away from the desk. Red eyes between black sclera met yellow unflinchingly.

"I wish, Mirai," Toshinori lamented. "I need all the help I can get."

"Quite a change of tune," Mirai remarked loosely. "Cut the crap. Who is he?"

Toshinori snorted, adding a bit of humor as he replied, "I never took you for the jealous type."

"I'm serious, Toshinori," Mirai gritted. "He is not what he seems."

"Calm down," Toshinori warned. "It's a testament to his skill that even you seem wary of him at first glance."

Mirai had not moved, his body rigid. A less experienced fighter would foolishly assume that he wasn't the least bit ready should the need arise, relaxed but his reflexes as sharp as ever.

Gouki wasn't remotely intimidated though, but rather annoyed by the man's stare as if he was being read, and he was, although Mirai wisely refrained from using his Quirk right then and there. "I just came here to pay you a visit," Mirai revealed, though Toshinori could sense that that wasn't the full reason.

"You've…been keeping tabs on me," Toshinori realized, which the other man didn't bother denying. "How much do you know?"

"Only up until I was caught by Interpol snooping around," Mirai admitted, pushing up his glasses. "Who is he really, Toshinori?"

Toshinori lolled his head back, closing his sunken eyes in mild frustration. "It will take some time to explain."

"Then do it," Mirai demanded, his own black suit clashing with the gray. It must have been the matching colors that added to the man's irritation.

Toshinori did explain. All of it. From the day Gouki burst out of the water to getting a little history lesson provided by Charlotte Guile. Mirai was nothing but subdued the whole time.

"A man from before the rise of Quirks," said Sasaki Mirai, or Sir Nighteye to the general public. "I almost believe you have a talent for creative writing, or maybe not, because that was probably the most ridiculous story I've ever heard."

"I wouldn't lie over something like this," Toshinori insisted. "You can talk to Naomasa to clear any doubts you may have."

"Yes, he was with you that day," Mirai confirmed, his gaze still fixed on Gouki as he threw something at the man in a flash of movement. To Mirai's astonishment, Toshinori didn't bother to move from his seat out of the corner of his eye. But that was minor compared to what also didn't happen. With only two fingers, his index and middle, Gouki caught something that nearly collided with his chest. He spun the object around and brought it closer to examine. A black metal object resembling a stamp, the flat head circular and the handle ergonomic. With a grunt, he cupped it in his hand and clenched tightly before dropping it to the floor. It harmlessly bounced twice before resting, reduced to a much smaller lump of metal.

That was all that Mirai needed to see.

"He's dangerous," Toshinori's former sidekick stated in a dry tone, as if he hadn't just attacked a man without provocation.

"Yes, but a fight isn't on the table, Mirai," Toshinori declared. "He is not to be trifled with."

"He's also a murderer," Mirai pointed out. "You think I haven't been busy on my end?"

Toshinori did not respond.

"Surprisingly, there wasn't much in the way of information I could find on this Gouki through the usual channels," Mirai admitted. "So I had to call in a few favors. People with no compunction about getting their hands dirty."

"That better not mean what I think it does," Toshinori said.

"You can relax," Mirai told him. "To be honest, I was under the impression that they would have to resort to hacking a government server. That was not to be. As it turns out, Gouki is a rather…infamous figure in the underworld martial arts circuit. To this day, there are legends of his exploits and prowess that no one dares to forget."

"That's why you're here?" Toshinori mused. "To convince me to wash my hands of him?"

Mirai did not answer immediately.

"Mirai," Toshinori began. "I understand your reservations..."

"Refusal," Mirai snapped frostily. "He will only prove to be a liability at best, and a danger at worst. He is not to be trusted."

"I don't trust him," Toshinori declared. "None of us do. Only a fool would, and I believe Gouki himself thinks the same."

"Then why?"

"That's the part I'm afraid you'll have to listen carefully to," Toshinori said soberly.

Recognizing this, Mirai moved to his old desk, which Toshinori had never found the heart to move because he always felt as if his old sidekick was right next to him even without his physical presence. Besides, the man would probably pull at his ear if he had moved it.

Gouki stayed where he was, not that it bothered him. Nothing of their conversation, let alone the fact that they were in the office of the Number One Hero, meant anything to him.

When Toshinori was done, Mirai was sitting calmly at his desk, elbows propped and fingers entwined. The room was clear of bugs and all surveillance deactivated. None of them were taking any chances.

"This…Satsui no Hadō," Mirai began. "Yes. There was…mention of it from the information I had gathered. Granted, it was scarce, and sounded more like the name of the martial art that he uses."

"Ansatsuken."

Both pairs of eyes landed on Gouki. "The Satsui no Hadō is simply the power I have at my disposal. My fighting style, on the other hand, is known as Ansatsuken. A martial art created for the sole purpose of killing."

Toshinori's eyebrows furrowed, while Mirai's gaze grew colder than ever.

Gouki then grunted, his perpetually worn frown cracking for the first time since Toshinori had met him. "Although, after practicing it for as long as I have, it admittedly does not fit the... conventional trappings of an assassination art. It is more of a lethal variant of combat karate mixed with kenpō."

Toshinori blinked, not really expecting that amendment from Gouki. "So, it's more of a hybrid style? Like in MMA?"

Gouki snarled, his arms crossed as he rolled his shoulders to express what might have been discomfort or irritation at having to say it out loud. In his younger years, he would have torn his own heart out rather than admit that their fighting style, supposedly developed over centuries for the sole purpose of taking life, was more of a hodgepodge of techniques that any self-respecting assassin would barely consider adding to their repertoire. On the other hand, many of the hard techniques were aimed at vital areas, so it…still technically counted?

Then again, he had managed to take the style and perfect it to such a degree that even the soft techniques could be life-threatening, so there was that.

With a sigh, Gouki admitted, "Yes, like in MMA. Or whatever you may call it these days."

"We still call it MMA."

Gouki ignored the; hopefully unintentional, jab at his age. "Regardless, it is an art for the purpose of taking life. My brother, on the other hand, reformed the style to be non-lethal…which he imparted to two of his disciples."

Which only meant that Ryu and Ken were not bound by the traditional aspects of the art. Perhaps Toshinori should have only expected such from those who fought against Shadaloo. That they were not murderers, but warriors.

Mirai had been contemplating in silence. "And…you wish to learn from this man, Toshinori?"

Toshinori flinched, then fidgeted out, "O-Of course not. What kind of hero would I even be if I learned such a fighting style?" If he did, he would have preferred the non-lethal variant belonging to Gouken.

"What of the boy?" Mirai reminded him. "This Midoriya Izuku."

Toshinori hung his head in deep thought. Gouki said that he would help the boy learn to control the Satsui no Hadō, but should there be more? Of course not. He was a child, and to be taught killing techniques at such a young age was completely out of the question. "Other than learning to control his power, no. As far as we know, Gouki is the only one capable of mentoring the lad. If there had been others…"

The office fell into silence. Mirai stood up from his seat and walked over to his friend. "He is to only be taught how to control the power, and nothing else." He strode past the back of Toshinori's chair, then directed his signature cold look at Gouki. "Are we clear?"

Gouki said nothing, only meeting the man's gaze with his own perpetual scowl. If that is all that will be required of him, then he will meet such a demand. However…

"If the boy were to ask for more?"

Mirai's cold gaze became murderous, veins popping around his temples. "You will refuse."

"Why would you even think that, Gouki," Toshinori asked, now sporting a glare of his own.

"..."

Midoriya Hisashi arrived late in the afternoon, his shoulders slumped in exhaustion. He had spent the last few days since his return in meetings. The demand for support items was endless, which meant more profits for a company that produced all the support items people could need. Now that he was back from the overseas branch in Canada, he thought he could get some rest and time with his family, but he figured that another day was really just another dollar, as the age old saying goes.

"Hey honey, hey blonde guy, hey inspector, hey scary guy," Hisashi said in exact order as he passed all of them from the lobby, only to backtrack fast enough that he blurred back into the living room. His wife, Inko, could only smile nervously as she waved him a shaky welcome.

"H-Hey…honey…"