The Grand Musutafu Mansion was ablaze with excitement and anticipation as the annual celebration hosted by the esteemed owner, Mr Dakamoto, unfolded. It was to be a night of opulence and extravagance, the chandeliers casting a warm glow over the scene, reflecting upon the marble floors and the glittering masks concealing the identity of the guests. Each mask was as elegant and elaborate as those who wore them, resembling various animals in a menagerie of colours and decoration. Though their faces were concealed, their voices were loud and lively. The entire room was filled with the sounds of laughter and conversation, not a single stomach or wine glass was left empty.

From atop a high balcony that overlooked his guests like a king addressing his loyal subjects, Mr Dakamoto welcomed everyone with a sharp smile and a toast. He raised his glass of champagne and said, "Eat and drink, my friends! Delight in the company of one another!" His slicked back hair created a striking contrast with his tailored bone white suit, a lavish golden wolf mask covering half his face, leaving his mouth and chin exposed.

Among the celebration stood a tall and slender woman, her beautiful shoulder-length red hair cascading in waves, framing her face. The blue and black fox mask she wore was as captivating as the elegant black cocktail dress. She moved gracefully through the hall, mingling with others and making inane small talk. Unbeknownst to them, she had meticulously identified and determined the patrol patterns of every undercover bodyguard and hired muscle scattered throughout the venue, all in the employ of Mr Dakamoto. To her, uncovering their identities was child's play. Genuine guests wouldn't be carrying concealed weapons under their clothes or scanning the room for threats

She engaged in seemingly casual conversation with a fellow guest, one too drunk to notice her subtly manipulating and guiding him towards the entrance to the kitchens. He was slurring his words, as she pretended to be dreadfully interested in what he had to say. With the amount of alcohol he had in his system, the untraceable drug she had slipped into his latest glass of wine seemed almost unnecessary. The man stumbled as he tried to stand up straight and she caught him under the arm.

"Oh dear," she said with a fake tone of concern. "I'm so sorry you're feeling unwell, this event can be quite overwhelming for some people. Let me help you find a place to rest." With her unsuspecting accomplice now successfully guided to just outside the kitchens, she loosened her grip under the arm just enough for the man to tumble to the marble floor. "Could I have some assistance please?" She called. As a group gathered to find the man a seat, she deftly disappeared through the kitchen doors.

A busy kitchen was a treasure trove of opportunity for someone who had chosen this unique career path. It was a veritable hive, teeming with movement and noise, the air filled with the aroma of expertly cooked food. Each scent that wafted through the air could serve as a mask, utilised by someone who knows how to time it correctly. Focused, the mysterious woman casually moved through the kitchen navigating her way through the crowd of waiters. She had learned long ago that the concept of "it's someone else's problem" could be a powerful tool of camouflage, allowing her to blend seamlessly into the fabric of the culinary chaos.

Her keen eyes caught a glimpse of a discreet doorway tucked away to the side of the kitchen, an entrance that, if her intel was accurate, would lead to the hallway concealing the kitchen staff locker room. Careful not to arouse any suspicion, she slipped around the corner, her movements swift and silent as she made her way toward the lockers. In a matter of moments, she shed her previous identity and donned the uniform of a staff member, becoming indistinguishable from the busy workers who buzzed around the kitchen. The fact that they too wore masks almost made this job too easy. Now armed with a tray of meticulously arranged appetisers and a bottle of wine, she was poised to carry out the task at hand.

After approaching the gentleman stationed at the bottom of the grand staircase, she uttered, "For Mr. Dakamoto," her words accompanied by a subtle nod of her head, drawing attention to the 2270 bottle of Hosun preserve. A vintage renowned as Dakamoto's personal favourite according to the numerous articles written about his lavish lifestyle. The man nodded in silent acknowledgment, granting her passage to the upper floors.

Ascending the staircase and leaving behind the bustling commotion of the party below, she felt the air grow quieter, the sounds of her footsteps echoing in the hallway. She felt free to drop the prim posture she'd maintained as both a guest and a member of the waitstaff. It was here, amidst the hushed upper corridors, that she could afford herself the luxury of speed, breaking into a nimble sprint down one hallway before effortlessly transitioning back into a composed stride as she turned a corner.

Two formidable looking men stood guard outside a pair of imposing oak doors, their presence clearly meant to be a deterrent. However, their attempts at blending into their surroundings were non-existent.

As the enigmatic woman approached the doors, one of the guards raised his hand to halt her. The other man remained vigilant, ready to step in at the slightest hint of trouble. "Wine, for Mr. Dakamoto."

"Nobody's getting in to see Mr Daka-hrgh"

The two men's eyes widened in disbelief as they gasped for air, hands clutching towards the pair of forks that had found their way into their necks, leaving them crumpled and lifeless on the floor. With the path now clear, she pushed open the impressive oak doors, revealing Dakamoto's opulent and spacious personal office. With the wine bottle and appetisers in hand, she said "Your wine, sir."

Startled by the intrusion, Dakamoto quickly ended his phone call and looked up, confused. His gaze immediately dropped on to the lifeless guard slumping into full view of the doorway. As he quickly rose from his chair, the woman followed his line of sight and tsked softly to herself, regretting the mistake that had jeopardised this carefully crafted mission.

With fast reactions, Dakamoto aimed his wrist toward the intruder, and from it shot three bone-like spears, the size and shape of toothpicks, hurtling toward her with alarming speed. Reflexively, she deftly used the wine tray as a makeshift shield, intercepting the projectiles in mid air and flinging the wine and cutlery to the ground.

"Who the hell sent you?!" Dakamoto's voice thundered, as he reached for the gun hidden within his desk drawer, a final attempt at controlling the situation.

The woman maintained an expressionless face as she calmly replied, "You've lived a fortunate life Mr. Dakamoto, but your luck has come to an end." With a swift flick of her hand, the pile of cutlery strewn across the floor sprang to life. With pinpoint accuracy, forks whizzed through the air with unbelievable speed, finding their mark. Dakamoto was dead before his mind could even process the danger.

Slipping out of the office window and landing gracefully in the mansion's front courtyard, escape was effortless.

"It's done," she murmured, pressing a finger to the small earpiece nestled discreetly in her ear.

"Excellent work, Diner. Return to The Market for debriefing." the slightly garbled voice of an older gentleman requested.

"Understood." With those simple words, she vanished into the shadows.

Codename: Diner.

Quirk: Tablesetter.

Diner has limited psychic control over all forms of tableware, including cutlery, drinking vessels, plates and bowls. Her abilities are limited by the functionality of the item, so she can't control knives intended for combat. She also can't control decorative or unusable items, and once an item is in motion she can't affect the trajectory.

Inko Midoriya returned to the Aldera General Store after enjoying a well-deserved lunch break. She quickly grabbed her apron from the coat hook, ready to tackle the afternoon. Meanwhile, the young store assistant Yuki Haro bid farewell to the latest customer, expressing gratitude for their patronage. As the sliding doors slid closed the store was left momentarily empty, only Inko and Haro remaining.

Nestled in the heart of a suburban area near Izuku Midoriya's former school, Aldera General stood as a quaint shop, a stone's throw from Takoba Beach. Embracing its local roots, the workers sought to give it an atmosphere of warmth and familiarity, the air infused with the subtle scents of fresh cut flowers and brewing coffee. Inko prided herself in the welcoming aura of the store she supervised.

However, on this particular afternoon, Inko's attentive gaze had detected a slight emotional distance in her young coworker. A gentle sigh escaping Haro's lips as the store lay empty triggered Inko's motherly concern.

She approached Haro with a warmth in her voice. "Is everything alright, dear?"

Haro snapped out of her thoughts, startled slightly by the question. "Hm? Oh, yes, thank you ma'am." she replied, her mind elsewhere. Haro's distracted look intrigued Inko, prompting her to dig a little deeper.

"You don't have to call me ma'am, dear," Inko responded, her tone laced with affection. "But are you sure you're okay? You've seemed a little preoccupied today."

"Oh gosh, I apologise. I'll make an effort to concentrate more. I just had quite a late night," Haro confessed, her polite demeanour shining through. Inko and Haro had been working side by side for several weeks now, and the older woman couldn't help but wonder if her young colleague would ever drop the formalities. Nevertheless, she found it endearing how she maintained her politeness at all times.

"A late night, hmm?" Inko teased playfully, a mischievous grin tugging at the corners of her lips. "A gentleman friend?"

Caught off guard, Haro's cheeks flushed, and she stumbled over her words. "Well, he wasn't exactly a friend..." Quickly realising the implications of her statement, she blurted out, "Oh! Oh no, nothing like that!"

Inko chuckled at the expected reaction, "I'm sorry Haro, I'm just teasing you."

"Oh, I-I see." Haro's mouth snuck out a smile. "I was actually up late, working on an assignment."

"For college, yes? My son Izuku has just started high-school, I don't envy the workload the two of you must have now." Inko replied with a shake of the head.

Haro looked at her with recognition. "He's a UA student, isn't he?"

A warm pride glimmered in Inko's gaze as she confirmed, "Yes, he's in the support course at UA. I'm very proud of him."

Haro sighed softly, her voice tinged with a hint of fatigue. "I don't think I'd be able to handle a school of that renown. My courses have been difficult enough. It can be a little overwhelming, especially when it's an important mission- I mean, assignment."

"How does your quirk work again, dear?"

"Oh, it's a weak lie detector quirk. If I'm feeling a person's pulse I can tell when they're lying."

Inko extended her hand, her wrist upturned invitingly. "Try it on me, please."

Hesitant, Haro contemplated for a moment before carefully placing two fingers on Inko's wrist, attuning herself to the rhythmic beat of her mentor's pulse. A moment of silence passed.

Inko's voice conveyed genuine support. "You are a hard worker, a capable student, and you can do anything you put your mind to,"

Haro accepted the compliment with gratitude. "Oh, th-thank you, ma'am..."

Inko's kind smile deepened, radiating warmth. "Was I lying?"

A bashful smile graced Haro's lips as she confirmed, "No, it was the truth."

"Then you have nothing to worry about!" Inko declared, her voice brimming with confidence, as their heartfelt bonding moment began to fade. However, their connection was abruptly interrupted by the shrill ring of Haro's mobile phone. Inko, ever understanding, gestured for Haro to answer the call, granting her a brief reprieve from their duties at the store. "You go ahead and take that, dear. The store can do without you for a few moments."

Haro bowed politely, expressing her thanks, before hastily making her way outside to answer the call. Standing in the secluded loading area, shielded from prying eyes, her demeanour and personality underwent a striking transformation as she answered the call with a short "Yes?"

"Diner," The digitally distorted voice on the other end of the line began. "You have a new assignment."

"I am ready." She said, voice devoid of any hesitation.

A cryptic silence enveloped the conversation for a fleeting moment, before the voice continued. "Main Street has predicted a future in which the underground hero Eraserhead plays no part."

Diner affirmed, "Understood." And with a decisive click, she ended the call. As the weight of her new mission settled upon her, Diner effortlessly shed her alternate persona, slipping back into the familiar guise of Yuki Haro, the diligent store assistant. She took a deep breath, anchoring herself in the present moment.

With composed grace, Haro reentered the bustling store, her true identity concealed.

Dinner at the Midoriya's that evening started off poorly. Inko could sense that something was bothering her son. He seemed oddly distracted and kept rubbing the back of his hand as if he was making sure it was still there. Inko had no idea what was going on, but after her phone call with Maijima, she could sense his unease and decided to address the issue as delicately as she could.

She placed a hand on the table between them in an affectionate manner as Izuku poked at his dinner, and said with a concerned voice "Izuku, Mr. Maijima called me today and said that you left class in a hurry. Is everything alright, sweetheart?" She hoped that he would open up to her, but the boy seemed hesitant to share.

The grip on his fork seemed to tighten and his gaze stayed fixed on his plate. He didn't really know how he could breach this subject with his mom. She only knew half the story after all. True, he had abruptly left class after hearing he'd have to enter the sports festival. But she didn't know his hand had turned into a chisel for a few hours afterward! She didn't know about the lies he'd have to start telling about the secret All Might left him with!

He took a deep breath, and contemplated his response. "I'm sorry, Mom. I just… had something on my mind, it's nothing to worry about, really." He looked up at his mother and feigned being fine.

Inko searched his face, looking for more than the dismissive reply he gave her. He was responsible and thoughtful, and she trusted him implicitly, but there was an awful nagging feeling that he was keeping something important from her. "Izuku… I know you well enough to know when there's something bothering you. You know you can come to me, no matter what it is. I'm here to support you, always."

Izuku's heart ached at the genuine concern etched on his mothers face. It was a stark reminder of the dilemma he faced. If it wasn't for his mom helping him pursue a new goal and cultivating his intelligence he would never have met Mei, or applied to the UA support course. If his quirk became public knowledge and they forced him into the hero course, would he be letting his mom down?

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Izuku mustered the strength to respond, "It's okay, Mom. I promise, it's nothing serious. Just a little anxiety about the sports festival."

His mother's expression softened, but the lingering worry in her eyes remained. She understood the importance of giving Izuku the space he needed to open up at his own pace, yet there was a hint of sorrow that he felt compelled to bear his burdens alone. "When you're ready to talk about what's worrying you, I'll be right here, ready to listen." She reassured him, her smile brimming with genuine warmth

Grateful for her unwavering support and burdened by a twinge of guilt, Izuku could sense the sincerity behind her words. He could almost not stand to deceive her any longer. But the weight of the secret held him back. With a nod of appreciation and a faint smile, he retreated to the solace of his room, leaving his mother perplexed and pondering how best to help him.