Chapter 3: Negotiations

Michelangelo didn't sleep as much as he should these days.

This wasn't really a new development for the turtle, merely a continuation of a theme that had been going on for as long as he could remember. He and his brothers had often given their father many a headache when they were younger, as they seemed to have twice the energy of so-called "normal" children in spite of getting far too little sleep according to Hamato Yoshi's memories of his childhood, his life as a human, And the brief time he and Tang Shen spent raising their daughter. However, according to research performed by one Hamato Donatello, Master of Machines, on the subject, Red-Eared and Yellow Bellied Sliders (the two types of turtles his brother had diligently determined the four of them could have been mutated from) seemingly only required around four to seven hours of sleep instead of the seven to ten for human beings.

It was yet another way that the four brothers were different from practically everyone they had ever known, and it had given them a unique view on the world: they were awake in the few moments that the people of the Five Boroughs allowed the "City that never sleeps," to close its eyes and rest for a few minutes before the sun rose and the wheels of progress and business started up once again and the players of every version of the so-called 'Game' sat down for another round at the table.

With that said, Hamato Michelangelo knew that he needed more than the one or two hours of sleep he had found himself barely achieving in the years since he exiled himself from the tunnels and rooftops that had been his childhood home.

Nowadays getting a "good night's sleep" meant subjecting himself to the horror that was Rapid Eye Movement and the process of dreams. Dreams, Michelangelo mused in between his bouts of meditation and madness, were sadly more often than not just another way for him to revisit terrible memories and old nightmares that had long since come true.

And so he fought against his body's biological wants and needs to the best of his abilities: relying on the discipline his father and master had imbued into his body as well blessings and curses of the mutagen that ran through his veins to accommodate for the physical deterioration his choices inflicted. For the mental and spiritual respite he needed to recover from his guilt and the lectures from the dead, he retreated into meditation and the ever useful excuse of having a goal to work towards, a debt to be repaid.

Given that he still saw the ghosts of his brothers most waking hours of the day, it clearly wasn't working, but he still meditated regardless.

"You can stop pretending to be asleep now kid." he said to the only other occupant of the holding cells. "All the heroes left hours ago and the cops don't give enough of a damn to check up on us at this time at night."

The lump in the cell next door shifted around on the slab of concrete that many a suspect, criminal, and drunkard had been forced to use as a bed, but otherwise did not move from her spot.

The ronin sighed as he considered telling the young girl that he knew that she was awake due to the way she was breathing, but decided that the last time he had any reason to be concerned with the fate of teenage girls he didn't personally know was his fifteenth mutation-day, and was therefore long behind him. With his mixture of meditation and sleep complete for the day, he moved on the ever increasingly important series of stretches and calisthenics that kept his limbs as loose as they could be with the amount of scar tissue he had collected in his life.

Once the calisthenics were done and seeing as he had at least another two hours to kill before anyone would reasonably check on him he began to go through the various series of martial katas he had learned over the years, relying on muscle memory and the nagging of his brothers' shades to correct him as he went through his plan.

If Endeavor and the other two heroes that had captured him had followed through on his hint, then they should have at least three to four canisters of Mutagen in their possession.

Odds were that they were going to run a couple of tests on the wretched green liquid to see how full of shit he was. Once that was done, they'd probably debate amongst themselves for a few hours, then drag him back to that interrogation room once they came up with some kind of deal that would sound good to them, but would most likely end with him going to jail on a reduced sentence for his vigilante stint in exchange for giving up what he knew about the Foot Clan so that they could pursue them "through the proper channels" and "bring them to justice.

Mikey scoffed, and his brothers' spirits mirrored his sentiment even as one of them commented on the positioning of his feet mid strike.

There was a time when he believed that there was another way to deal with the damn Oroku's and their servants that didn't involve sneaking around in the dark of the night and steel being drawn with the intent to stain the world red. A time where he dreamt about peace and believed it in the same manner he believed that he and his brothers would be able to walk their city's streets in the light of day… but that belief had finally died within him when they had dragged Raphael's corpse out of the Hudson River. A sigh escaped his lips at the memory's recollection, and with it came a weight that had threatened to crack his shell for nearly three, cold, dark months where he had slept dreamlessly with the hope that he would never wake again. No, this feud was born in blood-stained footsteps, and it would end in the same way.

The sound of footsteps began to bounce off the walls of the police station, and from his position as the closer of the two inmates to the hallway he caught a glimpse of who was coming to check up on them. Seeing that it wasn't the visitor he was expecting or hoping for, he decided to fulfill his civic duty to his fellow prisoner and give her a warning. "Hey kid, I think this one's for you."

He was rewarded with a groan that proved she had been awake the whole damn time.

Kayama Nemuri moved through the police station with a purpose most people didn't assume she had in either her civilian attire or heroic persona. When most people saw regular old Nemuri in her comfortable sweater and jeans walking down the street

It was especially impressive considering she had pulled an all-nighter two nights in a row, with the first one being spent hunting down a lead regarding someone who had the balls to pull off an art heist in an age where spotting a forgery was easier than actually creating a halfway decent attempt at a masterpiece. Once that was done she patrolled for a couple more hours, stopping six robberies, two hijackings, and made sure a couple of young office women got home safely following what appeared to have been a long night of drinking.

With her civil and heroic duties being completed to her satisfaction, the R-Rated Heroine finally made her way back to her apartment. She gave her cat Sushi the necessary amount of affection he demanded in order to make up for not being home most of the day and began the lengthy process to go from stunning bombshell Miss Midnight back to regular bombshell Kayama Nemuri. She had only just gotten out of the shower when she got the call regarding the girl who had inadvertently saved her the effort of beating up and arresting her would be mugger.

She immediately made plans to check in on the girl the very next day…. Only for her plans to be hijacked by her boss in an effort to pursue his own agenda of hunting down the latest hotshot vigilante. Somehow this led to Nemuri being an accessory to an impromptu meeting with three of the best heroes currently in the business: Endeavor, Miruko, and Hawks. All they needed was an appearance from All Might and Best Jeanist and this mess would be the start of a Golden Age comic book crossover event complete with limited edition covers.

They even had a killer hook for a storyline, thanks to the rather interesting interrogation of one "Kame" A.K.A. the infamous "Thirty Minutes or Less" Vigilante, and the successful search and seizure of the eighteen wheeler he claimed was carrying the supposed "ooze" that could apparently give people quirks if they came into contact with animal DNA. The whole thing frankly sounded like the plot of a pulp-fiction novel, and not the fun ones she liked to buy with a hard-boiled detective turning down the wiles of femme fatales in favor of his equally beautiful and competent gal friday.

But there was something about the way the mysterious liquid in the canisters they had discovered seemed to crackle and glow with power that resonated with the horror story told during the interrogation of the turtle vigilante. It reminded her of Naruhaata, and the flood of Trigger that flowed from that district to the rest of Japan when she was in her last year at UA. She remembered the brutal conflict and devastation unleashed upon the streets as the "Instant Villains" went berserk on their latest high… followed by the howls of agony when they went into withdrawal.

So, armed with the potential threat of a new "Villain Factory," the excessive amounts of coffee she consumed earlier in the day, and a heavy case of ironically quirk-induced insomnia, Nemuri had decided to push her mind and body towards an investigation of one Toga Himiko and figure out why she was in that alleyway that night.

By the end of the night she wished she had tried to go to sleep instead.

If one simply looked at the surface, then Toga Himiko was an ordinary high school girl… if anything she appeared to be too ordinary, especially when one considered the fact that a great deal of the information surrounding her seemed to have vanished from the face of the earth, with only vague allusions to an incident surrounding her middle school graduation ceremony that lead to her house getting vandalized to such an extent that it had briefly made it to local news before being swept under the tide of political corruption and superhero gossip. Regardless of what happened Toga was still just a fifteen year old girl, and the fact that she had apparently been out on the streets for who knows how long… and she was going to get to the bottom of this mystery.

But first, she had to pass on a message.

Briefly stopping to check in on the girl in her cell and seeing that she was asleep, the heroine turned her attention towards the other "vigilante" in the precinct.

The strange man who referred to himself as "turtle"and "a ronin" was just as intimidating locked up behind bars as he had been in the harsh light of the interrogation room. Up close Nemuri could see all kinds of nicks and scars mixed across the man's skin and front part of the shell (she was an art teacher, not a biologist), with the most unique ones being a series of viciously jagged lines covering his hands from his finger(or was it claws?) tips to his wrists. His eyes were seemingly pupiless orbs of white that made following his gaze impossible unless he tilt his head, yet at the same time she felt the intensity of his gaze despite him seemingly staring at a space next to her. Unsure how to approach this situation, Nemuri decided to take a page out of her friend's book and start with a joke. "So old timer, what do they got you in for? Underage drinking?"

Now those strange eyes were directed onto her as the vigilante turned his head towards her with a quizzical look upon his face before the joke finally registered and he scoffed. "At my age that joke only works with Tortoises and Sea Turtles."

Now it was Nemuri's turn to blink quizzically "Really? I thought all turtles lived for a long time."

The self-proclaimed Ronin shook his head, "Most turtles in the wild only live for two to three decades, so going by that standard I'm a senior citizen."

'Huh, the more you know,' Nemuri mused as she filed away the fact that their mysterious vigilante was somewhere in his thirties before focusing on the task at hand. "As interesting as this discussion is, it's not the reason why I am here."

The turtle tilted his head towards Toga's cell, "You mean you weren't just checking in on the girl who's been staring at us since you walked in?"

The rustling of cloth as Nemuri turned back towards Himiko Toga's cell confirmed that the girl was awake and hiding her eyes underneath her dirty sweater. The fact that she had been tricked by a girl half her age spoke to either how badly her investigative and observational skills have decayed due to focusing on teaching, or the girl's ability to act and show people what they want to see.

"... She's not the only reason I came in today." Nemuri admitted as she turned back towards the grinning prisoner. "I also have a message from Principal Nezu regarding your situation."

"Oh? And what does the esteemed principal have to say to me?" Once again those eyes seem to focus on something just outside of her view. "Have the powers that be finally craft a 'deal' for me in exchange for my release? Or should I just break out and we can start this merry chase all over again?"

"Talk of a deal has admittedly stalled in light of your little tip paying off last night." The R-Rated Heroine shrugged as she recalled the arguments from last night. "Endeavor wants to run a couple more tests on those containers we found and then offer you a plea deal in exchange for more information on the Foot Clan and anyone else who profits from it, Hawks is pushing for us to leak your mugshot to the press and see if anyone reacts-" A flash of something like anger mixed with fear briefly flashed across the turtle man's face, "-and Miruko just wants a rematch and for you to explain quote 'just what the hell is a P.B.B?'and then work with you to catch "some real villains" before locking you up." That last one elicited a small grin from the turtle, before his expression turned serious once again, "and what does the principal want?"

"For you to teach Urban Combat at U.A. in exchange for freedom to pursue your vendetta." Just saying those words left a bitter taste in her mouth.

Sure the line between Vigilante and Hero was pretty much a legal dispute when viewed from the outside, hell two of her best friends outside of her coworkers were former vigilantes…. But Koichi had essentially been forced to flee the country to avoid being prosecuted by the government, and Kazuho ended up horribly traumatized due to the whole 'Bee Pop' incident (nothing makes you realize how dangerously fucked up your life had become like losing an eye and being forced to commit acts of terrorism by a sentient queen bee). On top of that, neither of them had the look that Kame had when he was discussing the Foot Clan during the interrogation.

Kame, Thirty Minutes, Ronin-whatever the hell his actual name is- was angry. No, anger didn't properly cover the emotion that had leaked out during the interrogation…. Obsessive mania was close, but not entirely accurate either. Once again Nemuri was reminded of noir detectives, more specifically the kind of grizzled veterans of the police force who were focused on "That One Case" they haven't been able to solve for decades, slowly growing isolated from their remaining friends on the force until they either die trying to solve it or were forced to retire in shame. To say that Kayama Nemuri had concerns about someone like that teaching anything to impressionable young minds would be an understatement… and those concerns only grew with the way the ronin responded to the request.

He laughed.

It was a thing that started somewhere between a low rumble and a demented giggle before ballooning in a head tilting wheeze that echoed off the walls. It wasn't the kind of laugh that Miss Joke elicited with her quirk, the manic thing that was like being exposed to laughing gas. No, it was a terrible thing born of madness and pent up grief finally being unleashed at the pure absurdity of her boss's request and made her take a step back from the cell. When the vigilante calmed down he looked at Nemuri with eyesfilled with purpose and he gave her his answer.

"Do I look like someone who should be teaching children anything? Tell your boss that I reject his proposal on principle, and that I'll take my chances with the Criminal Justice System."

Later That Day

If two days ago someone had told Hawks that his decision to hunt down the latest vigilante making his employers/overlords at the Hero Commision look like asshats while simultaneously spending time with his idol would lead to the unveiling of a near millenia long blood feud between two ninja clans, he'd have asked what they were smoking.

If you then told him that said vigilante would then reveal the existence of a drug that broke the laws of nature and genetics with impunity, he'd ask for a hit himself.

But if you were to tell him word-for-word the story that Miss Midnight just told the assembled heroes? He'd start looking for a delorean or a blue Police Box.

"He actually said that he'd take going to court over a job at U.A?" Hawks honestly couldn't blame the guy, from what he was told by his mentor when he first started killing working for the Commision was that normal heroic course kids were supposed to be super annoying to be around. But the U.A. Kids? Those were a breed apart according to Nagant-Senpai, and seeing how far some of that school's alumni had gone in the biz ...Hawks was more than willing to bet that they all had some built in Impostor Syndrome or Hero Complex. "This guy does know those vultures pride themselves on having a 98% conviction rate?"

"More importantly just what the hell do you think you're doing offering that asshole his freedom?!" Rumi was so pissed that she was doing that thing where she thumped her foot like a Thompson on the linoleum. There were a lot of things for his best (and only) friend to be pissed off about. The fact that she had been forced by both the cops and Endeavor to stay in the city instead of running back to her house like she'd normally do. The fact that she'd left her credit cards and phone at home and had to rely on Hawks' to cover the bill for two separate rooms (Rumi hated owing people anything, and it had taken a lot of bad jokes and innuendos to get her to relent)… but odds are she was still upset that the vigilante they'd been hunting for over these past few months was getting offered such a lucrative deal.

If Hawks was being honest with himself, it ruffled his feathers as well, but for a completely different reason: Kame was a wild card, oh sure his actions may seem to be rather isolated when viewed as a series of vigilante justice. But much like one of his non-mutated kin diving into a pond, the so-called ronin's splashing about had caused ripples in the Japanese Underworld while pursuing his quest for vengeance… ripples that caught the attention of Himself, Endeavor, and Miruko, and now the Principal of UA himself.

Sure it might seem strange to worry about a principal of all things, especially when said principal was a rather cute looking rat in a vest… with a greatly enhanced intelligence and lifespan as well as a keen ability in fostering loyalty and talent. Principal Nezu was essentially harmless outside of the walls of UA's campus, but under his guiding paws the once ordinary high school had risen to become an unofficial pillar of Heroics in Japan. The fact that the two greatest heroes in all of Japan had both graduated from UA and seemed to regard the rodent with a great deal of respect definitely helped to secure UA 's influence in the hearts and minds of the people.

Speaking of the top two… "How about it old man? You've been awfully quiet throughout this whole conversation."

Endeavor had seemingly been out of it since the bust at the docks, lost within his thoughts to such an extent that the air around him was a few degrees cooler than usual. But a question from his Number One Fan (not that the hero knew that) shook the older man out of his funk. "Why Urban Combat?"

Well, at least he was talking with them, "Did you finally cook your brain old man? Cause the rest of us are trying to figure out why your old princi-pal is so intent on getting a new class-pet." And now the temperature in the room was up and Hawks' grin was now a bit more real. "Well? Any ideas you want to share Enji-chan?" that last bit may have been a bit too far if the heat haze was any indication.

"... The fact that my former professor wishes to recruit a vigilante isn't unusual given his propensity to recruit talented individuals regardless of controversy and potential scandal." The fact that he was sitting across from Miss Midnight made the not-so subtle dig even more blatant, "But it's the name of the course that concerns me, UA has taught Urban Rescue and Urban Navigation courses since its founding, but to the best of my knowledge there's never been a course titled Urban Combat." The Flaming Hero began to stroke his beard, "Even the name of the class is concerning, after all 'combat' is a synonym for-"

"Warfare."

'Well speak of the furry little devil and shall appear' Hawks mused as the door to the meeting room they were using was opened by a man with shaggy-blonde hair who was a few shades off from being confused for a corpse to reveal the rodent of the hour. "Glad to see we are firing on all cylinders after last night's series of events." Then he turned towards the man who followed him into the room, a large suitcase seeming to burst with papers in his left hand. "I hope no one minds that I brought in a local expert on American Vigilantism and Crime, one-"

"Yagi Toshinori," Endeavor stood up to shake the older man's hand, "I thought the blonde idiot would have finally signed your retirement papers."

The walking corpse let out a chuckle as he shook Endeavor's hand, "Oh come now Endeavor, we've known each other long enough to know I'd be miserable if I wasn't working." he then walked towards detective Tsukauchi and shook his hand as well, before turning and giving a brief bow to the rest of the heroes "Greetings everyone, my name is Yagi Toshinori, Chief Private Investigator for Might Tower."

That was a rather humble way of saying that Yagi Toshinori was All Might's Aide-de-camp: Whenever the big man himself couldn't make an appearance, there was Yagi Toshinori with a smile as bright as the sun and a strong handshake, offering apologies and platitudes like they were candy. For as far back as anyone had been paying attention to these kinds of things, Yagi Toshinori had been working alongside All-Might since the Hero graduated from U.A. and went to America to further his education, being as important to the hero's success and longevity as David Shield over on I-Island. That he was taking an interest in this case was… concerning to say the least.

"You were bound to be coming here anyway Yagi-san, after all it's near the end of the month and All Might hasn't turned in three thirds of the paperwork he's supposed to have." Tsukauchi joked as he sat back down in his seat, followed by the blonde skeleton letting out his own nervous chuckle, which was interrupted by a cough from Miss Midnight, who was watching the whole scene with a carefully raised eyebrow. "Not to interrupt this heartwarming scene of male bonding, but could we focus on the roughly five foot six reason we're all here?"

"Yes of course," The blond man suffered through a severe coughing fit before apologizing and pulling out a collection of files from his briefcase. "Around 1 A.M. Last night I received a call from Nezu-Sensei-" yet another U.A. graduate loyal to the rat- "-asking if I could reach out to any contacts All Might and I still have in the New York Police Department to see if they were willing to share information regarding the mysterious liquid found last night, as well as the vigilante Endeavor, Hawks, and Mirko apprehended yesterday." He waited a few moments for each of the heroes to pass around the files amongst themselves. "The results were… concerning to say the least."

"Define concerning." Midnight muttered as she started to flip through the files sent over, most of which consisted of photographs of various men and women being compared to what she was assuming were the same people after their exposure to the mutagen. The results were disturbing to say the least, and Nemuri's mind went into overdrive trying to imagine how some of the more grotesque transformations took place.

"One of the officers we contacted responded to our enquiries by saying: Oh Holy Mother of Fucking Christ on the Cross! Are you telling me that the Ooze is in Japan?!" Toshinori's face was set in stone as he uttered this quote, a stark contrast to his earlier demeanor. "He then went on to describe his encounter with the mutagen, when someone recently unleashed an aerosolized version of the drug in the Central Park Zoo, infecting roughly three thousand people before they contained the area." He then shuffled around a couple papers in his own hands, "According to my source, the primary suspects for the attack was a one percenter biker gang known as The Purple Dragons, who're known for weapon and drug smuggling, but that was quickly dropped when various members of the Dragons called the police and provided them with evidence and information that proved otherwise."

"Hold on, how the hell did a whole zoo get gassed and we're only now hearing about it?" Mirko's ears drooped as her frown grew, "Also, aren't American groups really big on the whole 'snitches get stitches' thing? Seems really suspicious for a gang to break this rule en masse and not get punished for it."

"For the latter part of your question we can thank the fact that the Dragons' membership is primarily made up of New York City Natives." Toshinori explained, "Once the mayor proclaimed it "an act of terror" the specter of the Twin Towers reared their heads and every criminal organization was scrambling to make it clear they weren't involved, less the whole city turned against them in a heartbeat."

"As for why this event wasn't even more publicized, well I'm afraid it was simply swept up in the greater carnage of the Three Level War."

"You're referring to the six-month long gang war that consumed Brooklyn and Lower Manhattan seventeen years ago?" Tsukauchi asked as he poured himself another cup of coffee.

The white-furred principal nodded his little head, "Indeed! The Purple Dragons were a key component of an alliance known as 'The Strikers,' alongside groups such as the Street Phantoms, the Savate, and various local vigilantes against our new acquaintances: The Foot Clan." he then hopped onto the table and began to pace as if he was a lecturing a class. "What was interesting about this alliance is that every suspect and informant who has been questioned about its structure by the authorities agreed that it was founded and organized by one group, a group of brothers known only as 'the turtles" ."

That caused Miruko to perk up, "So you're telling me that we caught a mob-boss?" That was quite an accomplishment in this day and age of super-heroes and villains. Most organized crime outfits had either been decimated by decades of legal diligence or had gone underground, hidden behind walls of misdirection and technology to the point that no one but the highest levels of any group knew who was in charge. But at the same time the description didn't seem to match what she'd seen of the bastard they had locked up downstairs.

Once again the principal shook his head, "Not quite Usagiyama-san, you see each of the subjects interrogated stated that before the formation of the Strikers the Turtles had fought against nearly every faction within the alliance." he then flipped through the papers on the table until he reached the file he wanted. "In fact if you turn to page 23, you'd see a transcription of the testimony of a man named Eric "The Hun" Lee, the then leader of the Purple Dragons, and why the Three Level War began."

"We also have an audio recording as well, provided to us by the NYPD." Toshinori opened an app on his phone, a battered relic at least three to four generations behind and encased in one of those near impossible to break cases, and played a file.

"You're asking me why the Turtles created The Strikers?" A deep yet ragged voice asked before letting out a sarcastic chuckle. "Shit, I guess Jones didn't make it through the night?"

"For the record is referring to one Arnold Bernid Jones, AKA "Casey Jones," a 19 year old student at Eastman University." Toshinori explained as he paused the recording, "He also moonlighted as a vigilante and staunch ally of the turtles known as 'The Mad Goalie,' an alias given to him by the press due to his use of a hockey mask and equipment to hide his identity."

The recording started again, "At least that moron went down fighting, anyway where was I? Ah right, The Shot Heard Around New York."

"Everyone and their mother knew that the Turtles and the Foot Clan had been fighting each other since the latter started carving up New York." The Hun narrated, "That was until around seven months ago, when The Shredder-the guy who used to be in charge of the Foot- killed Splinter -the Turtles' pops- and then less then a day later was killed by the Turtles all medieval-like: rumor has it they chopped off the guy's head."

Hawks let out a low whistle and muttered "Well that's one way to end a feud." before being shushed by Miruko.

"Crazy right? What's even crazier is that Karai, Shredder's Daughter and chief lieutenant, managed to organize a truce with the turtles." There was a pause in the recording as The Hun coughed and the sound of hospital equipment breached the background noise, "I thought Morphine was supposed to make me numb? Anyways the heat dies down for a few months, peace is held on all sides, and the Game goes on… but apparently no one told Karai's younger brother this, since the brat threw a coup back home, and cemented his claim by launching a hit on the turtles' leader. It failed and instead another one of the turtles tried to kill Karai in retaliation."

"This was the one the dock cameras caught taking out twenty guys before falling into the Atlantic with Karai…. And we all know she was the one who walked away from that fight."

"With the truce broken and one of their brothers dead, the remaining three decided to end their feud once and for all. They came to every gang they had beaten, every crook who brawled with or against the Foot, and every vigilante they knew who was worth a damn in a fight and organized a resistance. By and large we all agreed to it, since if the Turtles won they'd at least let us go on with our lives so long as we didn't trade in the ooze anymore. Besides, we all knew if Shredder Junior was anything like his old man, a lot more blood was going to be spilled before he was done with us." Another violent wave of coughing filled the recording as one of the cops called for a nurse to look at their prisoner. "The war started off well enough, we'd hit one of the Foot's bases while they fought amongst themselves, took their supplies, and then vanished…. But eventually those bastards got organized, and they started hitting back… I don't know if it's still going on but trust me when I say so long as one of those freaks is still kicking, it won't end in anything but blood."

The recording finished to the sound of deafening silence as the heroes absorbed the information given to them.

It was Miruko who spoke first, "You still haven't answered Endeavor's question."

Now the rodent's eyes were locked onto the young woman, "Can you please elaborate on your statement?"

"Stop acting like a teacher for one second and I will." With that retort the Rabbit Heroine expanded on her answer, "All this has done has shown us that Kame, Thirty Minutes, Whater his name actually is isn't full of shit: We now know that the "ooze" is a legitimate threat, that the guy is apparently some kind of badass gang leader/vigilante on a revenge kick… but you haven't answered why we shouldn't throw away the key to the cell we have him in." she then pointed towards Endeavor, "Also why the hell do you want someone like that teaching a Combat Course? We're Heroes! Sure we might take self defense or martial arts courses on the side, but we aren't learning how to kill!"

"Because our enemies do not play by the same rules." The cheerfulness was gone from Nezu' voice, a cold monotone taking its place while keeping the mouse's beaming smile. "This may be a controversial statement to hear, but as it stands Hero Society is crumbling. Quirks are becoming ever more dangerous leading to a growing sense of resentment and fear within the population. Simply put, society will reach a point where the pros of our profession are outweighed by its cons in the eyes of the people, and I'm afraid that time is coming sooner rather than later." Nezu' ears twitched as he began to pack tobacco into his pipe, "Please understand that I do not wish to turn my students into killers, but I would rather they know how to defend themselves without relying on their quirks."

"But that doesn't explain why you're so certain that we're on the verge of some kind of societal collapse." Hawks' narrowed his eyes at the rodent before him, trying to decide whether or not it was worth finding out if his old hypothesis of mouse tasting like rabbits was correct. "Well? Come on now, what's the big secret that has All Might looking into a drug bust and UA preparing for war?"

Glances were shared between the detective, the principal, and the PI, a silent conversation taking place between them that slowly drained the sense of calm and professionalism that Yagi Toshinori had projected throughout the entire meeting. A weight fell upon the man, one that seemed too great for his frail shoulders.

Then he uttered a sentence that shattered the world.

When the Pretty Lady who claimed that she was a hero came for the turtle-man later that day, there was something different about her.

One of the first things Toga had noticed about the lady(her name was Nemuri, don't call her a nickname) early in the morning when she was pretending to be asleep (she didn't feel normal enough to talk to people) was that she was extremely calm. It was that sense of calm that had caused her to follow the lady two weeks ago. she was way too calm to be walking down the alley where Toga had been sleeping off a bad headache. It was a kind of calm and confidence that screamed "I know who I am and I'm proud of what I do," the kind of feeling Toga wished she had.

The second time she saw Nemuri-san had a sense of cold professionalism and detachment that was both really cool and absolutely terrifying to witness secondhand. She had been followed by two police officers with heavy duty handcuffs and had led the turtle-man away. That had been half an hour ago if the clock on the wall was correct, and she was honestly starting to regret not talking to him when the sound of footsteps started to echo down the hall.

It was the turtle-man again, though this time he was walking alongside Nemuri-san and another police officer without handcuffs on his wrists. For some reason they stopped outside of her cell, and the police officer stepped forward to unlock the door?

"What's going on?" She was starting to get nervous, why were they opening her cell door? She was where she belonged right? After all, monsters like her belong behind bars.

"Congratulations kid," The turtle's raspy voice answered her question, "You made bail."

Didn't bail mean that someone paid a fine? "But I don't have any money…"

"What our amphibious friend here means is that you've been released into the custody of UA while your… situation is discussed." Nemuri said as the officer stepped aside and she knelt down to eye level with Toga and playfully winked at her. "Besides, I still owe you for saving me from that mugger."

The blood rushed to Toga's face, "Really?"

"Really," the purple haired woman nodded, "Though you should also thank our friend Kame over here, he made it clear when we were negotiating his release that you deserved a second chance as well."

The Turtle snorted, "More like I gave them a way to turn their blackmail attempt into something a bit more pleasant for all sides." he commented as he started to walk away, "Now come on, let's get going before they change their minds."