Previously, on Mechanize…
"Due to unforeseen circumstances, Tenya Iida has withdrawn from the tournament."
"If he was hurt or if something else bad happened, I don't want him to hear that people were booing us because of it."
We now return to Mechanize.
Tenya's heart was racing as he clutched hold of the phone with one hand, the other clenched so tightly his nails dug into the skin. Shock, worry and anger were all combined into one. "Mother," he said, trying to appear calm and composed. "Please tell me everything you know. Just how serious are Tensei's injuries?"
On the other end of the line, Iida's mother maintained her composure. She'd always raised her sons to face the world as adults, not coddled children. There was no reason to sugarcoat the realities of their chosen career paths, especially now. Speaking in a clear and concise manner, she gave her son all the facts he needed to know. Tenya listened intently, his nails continuing to dig into his palms as he absorbed every detail. He learned where Tensei had been patrolling, where he had been attacked, the devastating extent of his spinal injuries. …The grim truth that his brother would likely never walk again.
Taking a shaky breath, Tenya realised that as a hero he couldn't afford to let his emotions cloud his judgement. He had to be strong, for Tensei. "I understand, mother," he said, his voice steadier than before. "I'll be there as soon as I can."
After hanging up the phone, Tenya stood in silence for a few moments, his eyes tightly closed. Soon, he felt a comforting hand on his shoulder, helping him regain control of his breath.
"I heard tell o' what's been a transpirin', pardner." The owner of the reassuring hand spoke in a calm, understanding tone. "Rotten business, y'all have my sympathies. Reckon that brother o' yours will appreciate your being there."
Tenya wiped his eye with the back of his hand and straightened himself up. "Thank you, Mr Snipe," he said, bowing his head. "Your words mean a lot to me."
"Heck kid, there ain't no need for those formalities," Snipe replied, waving his hand to dismiss the gesture. "C'mon, I'll getcha back to ya folks in no time. The Snipemobile's all gassed up and ready to rodeo."
"Thank you sir, I… I gladly accept your assistance! It would be an honour to ride in your vehicle!"
Snipe gave him a friendly pat on the back and led the way to his car, a customised 2169 Dodge Charger with a black and white paint job and a large cow skull on the hood. "Ya like Mojo Nixon, pardner?"
"I uh, don't believe I've had the pleasure."
"Oh don't worry, you an' I are gonna get real well-acquainted with Mr Nixon." Snipe laughed. Tenya was about to receive an impromptu lesson in music history, but anything was better than being trapped inside his own turbulent thoughts.
"Madam, there's a call for you," the young maid said, balancing a sparkling silver platter with a sleek, black rotary phone. It was the lady of the house's preferred method for receiving calls, a touch of class from a bygone era.
"Aloha!" came the exuberant response from the Yaoyorozu matriarch, who had picked up the phone with a delicate gesture. "Why Ms Iida, my dear, whatever's the matter?" With bated breath, she absorbed her friend's voice as it relayed the tragic tale of her son's misfortune. The maid scurried around the room, attempting to keep pace with the lady's movements as she paced back and forth in agitation.
"Of course, I'll be there as soon as possible," Yaoyorozu assured Iida, her voice warm and soothing. "Please send all my love to the family. Kisses, darling."
Gently returning the telephone to its cradle, she conjured a wrapped boiled sweet from the centre of her palm and offered it to the maid. A result of her quirk, Gift Wrapped, the ability to produce small presents tailor-made to those receiving them. "Here you are, dear, you enjoy that," she said with a tender pat on the back of the girl's hand.
"Thank you ma'am." The maid said gratefully, taking the candy with a curtsy.
"Roscoe!" she called urgently, summoning her ever-attentive butler. "Fetch the car, for I am needed in Hosu!" With that, she sashayed out of the room, leaving a cloud of perfume and elegance in her wake.
As soon as the door to the drawing room clicked shut, a maid flicked on the television and eagerly changed the channel to Hero TV, hoping to catch their coverage of the sports festival. Aya Matsuri, also known as the undercover assassin Diner, immediately fixed her attention on the screen, still anxious to see how Midoriya had fared - perhaps he had even managed to make it to the tournament?
On the TV, an antler-headed correspondent and his stunning co-anchor sat behind a long oval table, a screen between them displaying the words "Midoriya Vs Kirishima." A rolling chyron at the bottom of the screen displayed entrance exam and training records for each student still in the competition. It was clear that Hero TV took its role very seriously.
"What do you think we can expect from this afternoon's event?" the man asked, turning to his partner. "Could this be another surprise from the up-and-coming support students?"
"It certainly seems that way, Chet," the woman replied, flashing a dazzling smile at the camera. "Midoriya might have a few more tricks up his sleeve, but let's not count out Kirishima's fiery passion just yet. He's shown himself to be a tough opponent with his rock-hard quirk."
Matsuri couldn't tear her eyes away from the screen as she watched the fight unfold, every other sound in the Yaoyorozu manor fading away into nothingness. She was captivated by the display of skill and power, but also by something else. Something that made her heart skip a beat. Realisation washed over her like a tidal wave. All that time, the person they'd been looking for had been underneath her nose the entire time.
Aya Matsuri suddenly had no reason for being, and Diner wasted no time shedding that identity and covertly exiting the Yaoyorozu grounds.
In the streets of Musutafu, Diner stared down at the mobile phone in her hand - fingers poised to craft a reply to a text from Inko. Inko, who had sent a daily stream of encouraging messages and affirmations ever since Diner had abandoned her role as Yuki Haro. They warmed Diner's heart more than either of them realised.
Amid a sea of possible responses swimming in her mind, Diner made a snap decision. She needed advice, and her destination was clear: She would rendezvous with High Street, the unwavering pillar of support in her life.
The Market was as empty as ever when Diner arrived, the communal and sleeping areas devoid of any activity. If anyone was around, the logical place to find them would be in Barbershop's office. With determined steps, she marched toward the closed door, where hushed voices hinted at an intense discussion within.
"Do you have a picture of the Midoriya's house?"
"It's an apartment building, actually. Here, satellite photography."
"This will be easier than I thought,"
Diner's blood turned to ice as she listened to the conversation on the other side of the door. They knew, and a plan was already in motion… It was unfathomable that Museum and Barbershop would dare orchestrate such an operation without High Street's approval... Their leader had to be involved.
She didn't know what she hoped for, but suddenly the grim reality hit her like a ton of bricks. The Midoriyas were in imminent danger, and their death sentences were all but assured. She was just a rookie, prone to mistakes, but Barbershop and Museum were seasoned professionals. A bead of sweat trickled down her forehead, a rare outward display of emotion and a testament to the surge of anxiety coursing through her.
Suddenly desperate for fresh air away from the bunker's oppressive atmosphere, she bolted from the door and raced down the corridor. Her frantic movements were so consuming that she never noticed High Street's brisk arrival from the opposite direction, until it was too late. They collided with a thud, the force sending Diner to the ground, but High Street remained standing and unmoved.
"Diner? What are you doing here, has something happened with your assignment?" High Street asked, extending a hand to help her up. Diner accepted the hand reflexively but promptly withdrew her grip.
"I... I have to go," she replied abruptly, darting away down the corridor, leaving High Street behind, calling after her in vain.
Unbeknownst to Diner, it had only taken a moment of skin to skin contact for Potential to activate. Closing his eyes and concentrating briefly, High Street reflected on what his quirk showed him.
This could prove to be an issue.
Her mind reeling, Diner ran through every scenario in her mind. The Market didn't make mistakes, no assassination was carried out without a reason, a purpose that aimed to bring about societal betterment. This was their fundamental creed, the very bedrock upon which their organisation was built. Diner had only known one person to ever escape their fate: Shota Aizawa, which she had always assumed to be temporary, expecting that he would be targeted again in the future.
But what could possibly justify the death of a Midoriya? They had no influence, no power, no enemies. The only thing remarkable about them was a quirk that appeared late and a spot in a prestigious school. Was UA the key? Or was it revenge for Midoriya's heroic deed of saving Aizawa's life? For the first time in her life, Diner couldn't understand why somebody had to die.
Diner shook her head, baffled. She had no way of knowing her superiors' motives, and it wasn't her role to question them. However, she believed she had a right to be there, to witness the outcome. She felt a connection to the Midoriyas, a bond she couldn't explain. So, she headed across town to the Midoriyas' apartment building, where she concealed herself in the shadows, watched, and waited.
What just came over her?! With one, fateful, instinctive movement… Diner's entire life was over. As soon as that pair of forks left her hands, sailed across the street and found their mark in Barbershop's skull, there was no turning back. The bald man's body slumped to the ground and within seconds Diner joined the Midoriyas at the front door of their apartment.
Inko's face was a mask of confusion, eyes darting between the woman she knew as Yuki Haro and the dead body now laying at her feet, "Yuki?! Wh-what's going on?!" she stammered, struggling to make sense of the chaos. Meanwhile, Izuku's heart raced, and he leaned on the doorframe for support, trying to process the whirlwind of events.
Diner spoke with determination, "We have to leave, now. I promise I will explain everything, but for now, we have to move." She extended a hand in a gesture of goodwill and safety. "Please, trust me. Both of you are in grave danger."
"Mom..." Izuku began, taking a deep breath and glancing at the lifeless stranger. "Mom, it's okay. I think she's right."
The assassin nodded appreciatively at Izuku's support, but Inko fumbled for her phone in her pockets. "I... I need to call Higari-"
Quietly, Diner interjected. "Ms Midoriya, I apologise, but it's too risky. I… I can't be certain how many threats might be pursuing you both. Our communication channels may have been compromised."
As far as she knew, this wasn't a lie. To her knowledge, The Market remained a formidable presence, with her branch just one among many. Potentially, numerous operatives were scattered across the country, ready to act at a moment's notice.
"For safety's sake, leave your phones; they could be tracking you." She collected Izuku and Inko's phones and tossed them inside the apartment.
"What about the...um..." Inko pointed to the body.
Diner lifted the corpse under the shoulders and said, "I'll handle it, wait here."
Leading Inko away from the house and toward the street, Diner kept a firm grasp on her hand.
"Yuki, please; I don't understand what's going on!" Inko protested, her son closely behind her. In a matter of seconds, Diner skillfully picked the lock of a parked car and ushered the Midoriya's inside.
In the back seat, Izuku did his best to reassure his shaken mother after the tumultuous events they'd just endured. "It's going to be alright," he repeated, his words a mantra for the both of them. Then, he turned his attention to the woman in the driver's seat, their guide through this uncertain journey. "It will be alright, won't it?"
Diner was silent for the entire drive.
She drove the Midoriya family to a nondescript safehouse nestled within a tranquil suburban neighbourhood. The house itself was unassuming and blended seamlessly with its surroundings. Originally part of Yuki Haro's cover identity, it had been left vacant after its previous owner's death. She'd kept a vigilant watch on it and eventually assumed ownership, masquerading as the granddaughter of the former resident.
Though never intended as a true home, the house featured comfortable and practical furnishings designed to conceal its true nature. It was like a friendly smile masking hidden intentions. Plush couches and sturdy wooden tables adorned the main room, while artwork covered the walls, discreetly concealing hidden compartments. The kitchen cupboards held just enough provisions to sustain its occupants, but nothing extravagant. Regardless of how long they needed to lay low, the Midoriya's would be comfortable.
Diner stood by the window, gazing through the deceptively blacked-out curtains, while the Midoriyas huddled closely on the couch, their hearts still racing.
Taking a deep breath, she began to speak. "I owe you both an explanation…"
"Yuki, whatever this is, we can-"
"My name isn't Yuki Haro." She interrupted in a measured tone. "My codename is Diner and I'm an assassin for a secret organisation known as The Market."
"So, it was you?" Izuku whispered. "The woman who attacked UA."
"Yes." Diner replied immediately, "Shota Aizawa was my target. I'd been assigned to… deal with him."
Inko's voice suddenly rose, "You mean, you were tasked with killing him. Please, Yuki, or Diner or whatever your name is, we need to hear the full story, don't change anything for our benefit."
The room fell silent for a moment. "Yes. I had been assigned to kill him. My master had deemed it necessary."
"Necessary?!" Izuku shouted, "When has taking a life ever been justified?!"
Inko urged him to lower his voice, "Please, Izuku."
"I'm sorry, Mom, but are you hearing this? She's a murderer! Was that man at our apartment another of your assignments?"
"His name, as I knew it, was Barbershop. And no, he wasn't. He was there to end your life." She said, her gaze fixed on Izuku with a grave expression. "His quirk… The moment he touched your hand, your death would have been inevitable."
Izuku's stern expression wavered, and his eyes drifted to the floor. He hadn't realised how close he'd come.
Inko blinked a few times, processing the shocking revelation. "This… 'Master' of yours, he decides who should die?"
"The Market exists to bring order and improvement," she explained. "One death can trigger a ripple effect that benefits society. High Street is the only one who can foresee the outcomes; the operatives merely carry out his wishes. That's what I've been taught since childhood."
"Childhood," Inko murmured softly, then raised her eyes to meet Diner's. "You've been doing this since you were a child?"
"Since I was six."
"God…"
Running a hand through his hair, Izuku struggled to comprehend what he was hearing. "But… How could our deaths possibly benefit society?"
"They couldn't. I refuse to believe they ever could, which is why you're both alive."
She fixed them with a determined gaze.
"And if I have to destroy The Market to keep you both safe, then I will."
