Haaa… Another lagging update, another "difficult" chapter.
Also, my feed has been blaring for the last four days about how next season will be the last for MHA. I mean, we all know the manga is done, but it feels like once the anime concludes we'll be seeing the end of an era. Who knows what we'll get next…
Notes, as always, at the bottom.
A flower shop occupied the base of the three story building, one with the humorous name of Four Leaf. Heading through here would have lead one to the proper access to the upper floors. But for Daichi's group, that just wasn't an option. Part of this was due to them wanting to avoid involving any outsiders to the situation. But mostly, they really didn't want to deal with the old bat who ran the place.
Granny Kiriko was the one shopkeep in the city who even Ranko was hesitant to mess with.
So, the fire escape it was. This was actually their preferred method of reaching the top of the building, one they were quite familiar with. Which is why Daichi skipped trying to drop the access ladder, opting for a "curious" stack of crates that he could use to jump over to the first landing.
Ryuken had a nasty habit of booby trapping that ladder.
Getting onto the fire escape was an easy enough task for Daichi, he was pretty practiced at it. Usually, it was a simple matter for Ranko as well, but there were some added difficulties today.
"Hey Yankee, you gonna carry your own weight at some point?"
From his position slung over the dog girl's shoulders, Jamie tilted his head in a show of thought. The American then stabbed his fork into a bit of chicken, quickly pitching the glazed piece of meat into his mouth. The obvious statement was hat there was no way he could climb on his own whilst enjoying his meal.
This really wasn't Ranko's problem, the boy having proven before when he went off to get said food that he was more than well enough to walk. She would have vocally – and likely physically – objected to Jamie's antics if not for Taro. Having declared his allegiance, the jittery rodent had perched himself on the red head's back, preventing Ranko from retaliating. It just wouldn't be right to make something so cute into collateral.
For his service, Jamie wound up a bunch of noodles and presented the loaded fork to the hamster. Taro slurped the mass down with gusto, his hunger managing to overpower his constant fear.
Ranko could only groan at the obvious loss, leaping the short distance from the stack of crates to the bottom landing of the fire escape. She made sure to land roughly and jostle her lazy passengers. If Jamie started to choke, she'd make sure to help him… at her own pace.
Daichi climbed higher, holding the other bag full of food trays. He made sure to make as much noise as possible during the ascent, stomping heavily on the metal steps. With him being the first one up, it was important that he be obvious and ready to appease.
When the blonde reached the top, at the point where his head crested the edge of the roof, Egress belted out a sudden yawp across his senses. Daichi crushed that instinct with particular zeal, doing his best to contain any sudden movements.
This was how he ended up on the business end of a bolt loaded crossbow. The dark, polymer frame and the shining tip of the bolt were certainly striking, but Daichi's focus lay on the figure holding the weapon.
"Hey Ryu."
Ryuken "Ryu" was the pretty standard characterization of a vagrant. His tawny red hair was shoulder length and rather messy. His jawline and chin were covered in bristly fuzz, as could be expected. Those focused, smokey brown eyes of his held a cool determination for a short time.
Then Ryuken's orbs brightened, blinking as he steadily began to recognize the person he was aiming at. As his eyes softened, Daichi roughly cleared his throat, flicking his gaze between Ryu's face and the threatening tip of the crossbow bolt. Ryuken grinned as he "got" the hint.
"Hey Dai," he greeted, lowering his weapon, "done with learning for the day?"
Daichi made to assert that, yes, he was "done" with school fr the day. But this was the point where Ranko lost the last of her patience, calling out from below, "Alley-oop!"
The spark of his quirk had Daichi pressed against the rungs of the ladder just as a large mass whooshed past him. Ryuken flinched as the large object zipped through his vision. He was afforded about a second before the lobbed figure came back down. It landed right on top of him.
Taro had managed to leap onto Daichi's head mid-flight. Jamie didn't even attempt to arrest his fall, savoring his previous mouthful of takeout. This lead to the overweight teen flopping heavily onto Ryuken's back, flattening the older man onto the rooftop.
Daichi stared down at the lain out duo, silently observing. Ryu had caught himself on hands and knees, his chest hovering just off the ground. He looked to be in a bit of shock.
Jamie, lain out sideways on Ryuken's back, took about three seconds before reaching his fork back towards the open tray he still held. He hadn't spilled so much as a single noodle.
"Make way, make way," rose Ranko's voice just ahead of the girl herself. Taro hopped off Daichi's skull, climbing down the front of his shirt whilst the dog girl clambered up the teen's back. She made sure to give her blonde friend's skull a quick knock before vaulting onto the rooftop.
And right on top of Jamie and Ryuken.
The American practically spat out his mouthful from the sudden weight driving into his ribs. Sheer stubbornness kept his mouth closed, the glasses wearing teen unwilling to waste food under any circumstances.
"And stuck the landing," Ranko declared, standing tall atop her human pedestal, arms wide in a Y-stance.
Jamie took a moment to recompose himself, making sure to swallow before saying, "It would be nice if you could get off of me now."
"It would be nice," growled a voice from below, the stacked teen shaking as the foundation began to move, "if you both could get the hell off of me!"
So said, Ryuken rocketed to his full, considerable height. Ranko leapt dexterously from her angry perch, landing with a slight buckle as her injured leg seized up. Jamie made no such escape efforts and, in fact, further settled his weight upon the older male's shoulders.
Ryu let a sour grimace mar his features. His orange jacket, a rather gaudy choice with a deep blue inner lining, had become disheveled in the fall. He couldn't even adjust it with this fat foreigner slung across his frame.
In the rather tense silence that followed, Jamie, ever unable to read the atmosphere, shoved some more meat into his mouth.
The lone adult of the bunch the allowed his sights to lower. His gaze locked solemnly upon the discarded and cracked frame of his crossbow. Daichi, with Taro once more seated atop his scalp, followed his line of sight.
"You broke it," Ryuken stated.
Daichi raised the hand holding the bag of untouched meals. "We brought food," the young man replied, his tone quite flat. Atop his head, a slightly jittery Taro presented the plastic bound bounty like a game show extra. When Ryuken looked unmoved by the display, the hamster returned to his cowering demeanor.
And then Jamie came through with the "assist," pressing a forkful of twisted noodles before the older red head. After a brief pause, he started tapping the offering against Ryuken's cheek, staining it in dark sauce. Ranko watched on with a wry look, Daichi's expression caught between worry and amusement.
He settled on amusement when the grown man opened his mouth, allowing Jamie to feed him.
"Been wanting to try this place."
"Alright," Mr. Senki announced, slapping his palms atop the desk and rising to his feet, "that about concludes your mandatory education time." Osmund, seated at the head of the teacher's table, yipped swiftly in concurrence.
The class itself, rather occupied in "self study," rose a collective brow at the sudden declaration. This was answered by the prompt, familiar tones of the school bell. The walls of the room, once softened to the level of waning twilight, brightened a tad to paint the room in warm amber. Hokuto presented a small smirk at his students' bewildered states.
Izuku couldn't help but notice that the man still looked far too worn out despite that brief display of humor. He'd been rather dour ever since coming back from that call with his "sis," immediately commanding self study before pitching himself into his plush chair. Mr. Senki had then spent the next hour in a state of contemplation… and silent worry.
That observation in mind, Midoriya did not move as the majority of the class started to pack up. Sitting next to him and taking cues from their friend, the still somewhat jumbled Hagakure and Minetta halted their own preparations for egress.
Well, Tooru noticed Izuku's inaction. Minoru looked like he was experiencing a brain null, of sorts.
Kisuke appeared to share little of that patience or perception, packing away his own effects at a lackadaisical pace. It seemed like his own lack of hurry was due to him musing over his after school options, Uzuma mumbling out popular foods to partake in. Kurogane remained in her seat, phone up ad screen bright as she gleaned over character stats, content to stay where she was.
Below Izuku's group, Naota shrugged on his pack. Being one of the first to recover after the "surprise" dismissal, he'd stored his materials away with neat efficiency. Then, looking bored as always, the silver haired teen had plopped right back in his seat.
Mr. Senki's silent gaze drifted over the shuffling class, lingering a brief moment over the ones not making for an immediate departure. As the packed students were beginning to leave the aisles and descend the ladders, their instructor piped up, "Before you go…"
At the far end of the student seating, opposite Midoriya and company, the very near sighted Fujiko groaned before flopping back onto the bench. She'd just gotten through the rather arduous task of arranging her satchel and would have rather made a swift exit. But thinking on Hokuto's flippant displays of personality, she erred on the side of at least listening to his whims.
The rest of the class mirrored that notion, a chorus of sighs and complaints rising up all around. Osmund barked, the sound booming through the cavernous space as though coming from a hound ten times his size. One of the teens climbing down a center ladder lost his grip on the rungs, clapping onto the floor after falling half a meter.
As the boy seethed abut his aching back, Hokuto relayed, "If I now have your attention, I have a matter that's come up. Something that may present a unique opportunity for my aspiring students."
Mr. Senki's somewhat wry expression swept across the bored faces of his class, most of them just wanting to get on with their day. When he met the young Kimi's eyes, the aloof boy simply rolled his hand in a "continue" gesture.
"My nephew's gone rogue, him and a could friends escaped their middle school several hours ago and haven't been seen since. I want you lot to track them down. I'll be sure to gift you some extra credit, more so for anyone who's able to secure them."
Izuku's head had been spinning throughout that briefing. Really, the whole thing felt too much like an official operation, albeit a low level one. Still, a missing person case…
"Isn't this something the police should handle?" Uzuma's sensible statement managed to pry Ikaruga's focus off of her mobile, the purple haired girl's head turning to her neighbor with sluggish disbelief. The cone head continued, "If a couple kids are missing, then maybe-"
"Don't worry about it," Mr. Senki immediately dismissed the comment, waving his hand as though slapping down the words like some bothersome fly. "D and his gang are always causing trouble. They're probably involved in some wild scheme, sort of thing happens at least once a semester."
The sentiment caused the class to do a collective double take. That seemed like the kind of thing that an adult, a teacher, and, most of all, a family member should show a bit more concern over. Naota breached the silence, "So… is this like a regular activity for your hero students?"
To that line of inquiry, Hokuto replied, "Much like UA, our hero course instructors have a lot of free reign in how we handle things. I've always been of the mind that hands-on experience is the best form of education."
Naota's level stare seemed to somehow become even flatter, "That's a yes, then?"
"Affirmative."
The quick reply dragged a snort out of Minoru, the little man's mind having rebooted a bit. Izuku clamped a hand over his own mouth and chin as he speedily mumbled through virtues and downfalls of this particular teaching method, Hagakure invisibly pinching her brow as the word storm reignited her headache.
Kisuke raised a hand to bring up another point. Ikaruga, not willing to see her seatmate be insightful twice in a row, slapped his arm down and spoke in his stead, "Just to be clear, you're not granting us permission to use our quirks for this?"
Their instructor notably sobered up at this, squaring his shoulders and tweaking a knot in his neck. It was so overdramatic, a deliberate stalling tactic that made Midoriya raise a brow.
"As mere students, you're barely more than civilians in the eyes of the law. Without the direct guidance of a licensed instructor, the sanctions of an internship, or the achievement of a provisional license, you are forbidden from using your powers within a public space. Being caught utilizing your quirks without authorization will likely lead to consequences, though some concessions may be made based on whether the situation can be perceived as an act of self defense or a necessary intervention to protect a fellow civilian."
The whole thing had been delivered in frank monotone, as though Mr. Senki had been reading right out of the pro hero handbook. But Izuku couldn't help but note that the man hadn't offered a "definitive" answer. He'd outlined the conditions needed to allow the use of powers and then addressed that there would be punishment if they were caught.
… If they were caught.
And what was that whole bit at the end about "self defense" and "necessary intervention?" It almost felt like…
Whilst Midoriya was having his eureka moment, the silver haired Kimi was already up and at the end of his row.
A collective chorus of notes, chimes, and rings overtook the room as every student's phone received a message alert. Kurogane sported a grimace as the text prompt appeared. Likely interrupting her game. Naota managed the incredible feat of being the first to open the message, despite having to fish his phone out of his pocket. Almost as though he'd seen it coming.
"That group text is just to make things 'official'," Hokuto relayed, waving his hand in a dismissive circle, "This is in no way a mandatory assignment, just a way to earn some extra cred, set the tone for the semester. I do feel that this will be a valuable experience for rookies like you, so if you're planning to partake in this 'exercise,' throw up your consent in the group chat."
The man was hardly finished when a second round of ring alerts filled the classroom. Glancing at his screen, Midoriya saw an unfamiliar number resting above a short text.
"Naota Kimi, confirmed."
Izuku glanced down to the lower row. Naota had just flipped his phone screen down onto the table, resting an elbow onto the flat top and perching his cheek atop his fist. He fixed their teacher with a look of bored attention, strange as that was to comprehend. Mr. Senki acknowledged with a twirl of his arm and a tiny bow, a move that Osmund cutely mirrored.
Then their instructor turned to the rest of the class, awaiting further action.
When the first person began to pack up, it started a chain reaction. Hushed comments of people with prior obligations, work responsibilities, and some just lacking the desire to participate echoed throughout the chamber. Hokuto had stressed that his proposed exercise was voluntary. As a good chunk of the class started shuffling down off the balconies, making to depart, Mr. Senki watched on with an impartial expression.
Izuku remained in place, unmoving as the other students flowed towards the exit He could understand their views, the fact that this was a matter better left to the police – a truant officer may have been a better fit. The whole scenario sounded more like busy work that their teacher was foisting off on his students. Considering what they'd seen of his character, they wouldn't put it past him. He had said that this was optional, after all.
But even so… there was something here that Izuku could not ignore. More than the chance for extra credit or the opportunity to experience the slightest touch of hero work…
There was a problem and they'd been asked to resolve it. Izuku couldn't ignore that.
Thinking for a second, Midoriya shifted his gaze towards Hagakure and Minetta. He wondered what their thoughts on the matter were.
Tooru was not gazing down at Mr. Senki, musing on her decision as Izuku had been. Her torso was instead oriented on the greenette himself, silent and still. While he, of course, could not see her face to make out her expression, Midoriya felt he knew what she was doing. She was waiting to see what he would do.
Minetta was mostly incapacitated, his entire upper body half lain across the counter, his stubby legs hanging in the air and wobbling slightly. He was draped across a notebook he had been attempting to write in, his lackluster notations now ruined by the pool of drool leaking from the corner of his mouth. But as mentally absent as Minoru clearly was, his blank eyes were drawn on Midoriya as well.
The silent message was there: they'd take their cues from him.
It was at this point Izuku realized his jaw had gone slack. Swiftly enough though, his lips closed together, curving into a warm smile. The hero hopeful drew up his phone and opened up the messenger. Tooru followed quickly, briefly reaching across the table to slide Minetta's phone into his blindly groping hands.
Down on the floor, Hokuto's passive features turned into an almost feral grin.
"Izuku Midoriya, I'm ready to help."
"Tooru Hagakure, see above statement."
"Minoru Minetta, vdfygvyudgfuygfsydgfyug-"
A glance to Minoru revealed him again slumped forward, face mashed into his touch screen and ass in the air, his energy suddenly spent. Kisuke laughed out loud, pointing eagerly at the tiny teen's raised rump whilst Ikaruga blatantly swiped his phone.
Ryuken had a pretty bitching set up on that rooftop. Daichi had always thought so and it was fun to see the little changes made every time they visited. The presence of two free standing, canvas awnings was a constant, Ryu having a soft spot for Big Top reds and whites. The larger cover encompassed the building's roof access as well as a pseudo living area.
The couch was pink. Also fuzzy long strands imitating hair covering the seat in its entirety. And, judging by how Jamie, lain across the pink cushions, would turn his head and sniff the armrest, it was also scented. Ryuken found the weirdest shit sometimes.
Between sniffs, Jamie would lift batches of meat and noodles into his mouth, the first tray of food down to its last scraps. Before he could savor his next mouthful, Taro began bouncing on the American's plump belly. Pausing, Jamie glanced between the hamster and his morsel. After repeating this a few times, he sighed in annoyance before offering the mouthful to the suddenly courageous Taro.
Daichi huffed at the display of dominance. He himself was seated on a reclining sofa apparently made from crocodile hide, his thoughts again wandering to where Ryu sourced this weird furniture. The blonde has his seat fully reclined, nursing a soda and glancing towards a wide projection screen opposite Jamie's couch.
The projection, propped up behind the fuzzy couch, displays a news broadcast on the canvas screen. A soundbar resting on a bare shelf beneath the screen relayed the reporters' comments on upcoming weather, traffic reports, and daily events. Nothing regarding the teens flight from Precinct Twelve, no matter how Daichi changed channels. He quickly abandoned the remote to one of the smooth sofa's creases.
Looks like they were keeping things under wraps, just like Ranko predicted.
Speaking of the girl, she and their host were currently poised beneath the second, smaller awning. Ranko was sitting inside a teal kiddy pool decorated with festive images of balloons. It was a mostly dry affair, if you overlooked the many spots of blood marring the plastic floor. The dog girl ad her back pressed against the rim of the pool, her wounded leg extended towards the center.
"Mff mor mrun," Ranko tried to speak around the length of pale rope clenched between her teeth. A literal dog toy, she'd noticed with some disdain. Even so, once Ranko saw Ryuken approach with it and a long pair of surgical tongs, she'd pretty quickly silenced her misconceptions.
Ryu, crouched near the dog girl, raised his now bloodied tongs in response. The misshapen form of a nine millimeter round was clenched between the metal prongs. After allowing a moment for the girl to appreciate the sight, Ryuken sprang up, walking out of the empty pool.
"Start swiping that blood hole with the disinfectant. I'll grab the needle and thread." Ashe spoke, the older red head moved to the far end of the covered area. Here he reached a large, oaken cabinet, the top part housing some glass encased shelves and the bottom being a wide mass of drawers.
Ryuken mostly ignored the collection of cute stuffed animals comprising one glass cabinet, dropping the stained tongs and bullet into a jar of liquid before rummaging through a drawer below.
Too tired to roll her eyes, Ranko used some considerable strength to spit the rope toy out of her mouth. It bounced off her foot and Ranko glared at the lack f distance achieved. With a scoff she reached towards the vial of alcohol and box of gauze pads beside her.
Ryuken continued foraging through knick knacks, barely perceiving the sound of approaching footsteps. He kept sifting through the drawer as he addressed the person now beside him, "Hell of a morning you guys have had."
Daichi gave a half hearted growl in response, standing with his hands in his pockets. "That's an understatement. Ranko gonna be okay?"
The older male dug around for a few seconds longer, then paused as he perked up slightly. After a moment of thought, Ryuken turned slightly towards the teen, "… a cop actually shot her? Like right in the precinct?"
A short "yeah" was all the answer Daichi gave, his expression carefully neutral as he scanned over Ryu's features. The bristly faced adult's half stare lingered on the blonde a moment longer before he returned to his rummaging.
"She'll be fine enough," the red head said as he pulled a small plastic kit from the back of the storage space. "I don't gotta tell you that the girl's built tough, beyond just having a high quirk factor."
Daichi nodded, turning back to watch his furry friend. Ranko had wiped away at the bullet wound, trying in vain to clear the area of blood. At this point she'd layered a few pads onto the hole in her leg, keeping pressure with both hands. Her face was twisted into a snarl but she made no sounds of discomfort.
If anything, she looked far more angered than anguished.
Catching some odd action out of the corner of his vision, Daichi turned a curious gaze towards the still lying Jamie. The American had his pointer finger pressed against Taro's little head, more as a reminder than anything else. The again timid rodent made sure to pace himself as he nibbled on bits of Jamie's entree. The entree that Jamie was no longer holding with possessive zeal, only one hand clasping the tray.
Jamie had his smartphone in his fee hand. He was reading swiftly over the bright screen when the high pitched chirp of an incoming message rang out. The bespectacled foreigner's scanning eyes stilled momentarily. That was all the time needed for a second and then a third text to rapidly arrive. A fourth arrived as Jamie raised his thumb over the touch screen, the young man's face scrunching up in annoyance.
Ranko also took note of this, snapping out a quick, "The fuck are you talking to?" She spoke through a strained grimace, clearly looking to distract herself.
Their Yankee classmate didn't look up from his screen. He managed to tap out a swift response that halted the flood of texts at around eight or nine. Once he knew the barrage was on pause, still not glancing at the dog girl he said, "An annoyance, mostly." Jamie then put both hands on his phone, starting to type more rapidly, ending the conversation.
Taro was free to take a quick, nervous chomp of Jamie's meal.
Daichi coughed as Ryu swung a palm into his gut, the teen's hands clutching over the invasive limb. The red head had pressed the tiny med kit into the blonde's grasp, retreating barely a beat after the hand off. Ryuken hopped off to a "repurposed" ping pong table holding a half emptied family pack of bottled water and a hot plate with a steaming tea kettle on top.
"You guys can't stay here."
Ryuken's announcement came as he retrieved the pot, coming back to the towering cabinets and drawing out a plethora of Disney themed plastic cups. It seemed he would at least host them for a little bit longer, but Daichi could see where he was coming from. Someone in Ryu's position really couldn't afford to attract too much attention.
Daichi hummed in acceptance at Ryuken's back. The teen gave a short bow and added, "Thanks for doing what you can." He then stepped away, barely acknowledging the brief "welcome" he got from Ryu.
Ranko watched Daichi as he approached. Two bunched up, bloody gauze pads were discarded in the pool beside her, the dog girl holding her relatively fresh pad hard against her thigh. Daichi stepped into the kiddy pool next to her, wordlessly reaching out with the stitch kit. Ranko stared a bit before taking the tiny case, a good deal less energy in her motions.
The young man paused beside his friend, lost in thought as she stared at the small med kit in her hand. After an indecisive second, Daichi knelt down next to Ranko.
"You steady," he asked, voice soft. The furry girl's ears twitched, her superior senses picking up his quiet voice, Ranko instantly huffing at his choice of phrase. He knew that asking the standard "You good?" would have gotten him a snappy remark.
"Could be better," Ranko replied, her tone as soft as Daichi's had been. Snapping open the clasp on the plastic kit revealed the literal spool of stitching thread and miniature scissors held within. Ranko flinched at the sight, the movement barely noticeable.
But Daichi caught it. "I can do it if you-"
"Just," the dog girl paused, exhaling swiftly, "… just wait, sit right there. Don't move."
The blonde held her gaze, his own eyes searching. After a moment, he sat back in a more relaxed stance. Ranko's own posture evened out as she drew out a length of thread. Daichi clenched his palms into fists, pressing them against his knees to keep them still.
Ryuken placed two cups of hot tea on the ground beside Ranko and Daichi. A quick scan from the blonde revealed them to be themed after Pluto and Donald Duck respectively. The older male then strode back towards the ping pong table, snatching up another pair of heated cups then making a bee line towards the "sitting" area and the crocodile armchair Daichi had previously occupied.
Jamie kept his sight down, locked onto his nearly emptied tray of noodles. Taro had, by this point, settled himself in a vacant section of the box and was more leisurely nibbling on the remaining food. When Ryuken offered the American his drink, it took a bit for the boy to react. Even then, he only shifted his eyes, never inclining his head as he took the cup with one hand.
The glasses clad teen allowed a short snort as the silly face of Goofy grinned back at him. Ryuken plopped onto the stylistic sofa, taking a good pull from his own, Princess laden glass.
He didn't so much as flinch when the first sudden whine of pain belted out of Ranko, downing his gulp at an even pace. Jamie and Taro couldn't claim the same dauntless air, some of the boy's drink spilling as the hamster fell into a mound of noodles. Jamie, at least, had the forethought to raise the tray's lid, blocking Taro's view of the kiddy pool.
All the while, Jamie kept his gaze low.
The port was buy today, a series of large shipments having all arrived on the same morning. The time for complaining about incompetent management had come and gone hours ago, scores of workers scrambling about to offload and secure various crates of cargo. They'd settled into a comfortably frantic rhythm, their focus dedicated utterly to their plethora of tasks.
It was easy enough for a suspicious stranger to make an unorthodox approach.
The waters a ways out from the high wall of the dock were breached by a shock of pale gold streaked with bits of white. As the object lifted further, it revealed a human head, the eyes concealed behind a curious set of rounded shades. The figure's mouth and jaw were covered by a black, metallic face guard that seemed to be serving as a re-breather.
He ascended rapidly as his frame glided further towards the shoreline. The man's toned physique was apparent through the dark, skin tight material of his short sleeve. He wore a leather harness over that, the straps held taut against his body though there seemed to be nothing housed on the rigging. His pale arms were crossed over his chest, his right limb adorned with teal colored lines that evoked a cybernetic feel. The man's arms uncrossed, naked digits peaking out from black, fingerless gloves and reaching for his face mask.
His jawline was accented by trails of pale blonde hair, running down from his temples and streaming in to meet at his chin. Dark blue leggings clung wetly to his legs, drenched black sneaks rising from the waves as the man arrived meters from the edge of the port. His feet were planted firmly atop a weathered, dome shaped slab of iron that carried hi forward. Upon reaching the wall the metal plate dipped down into the water before swiftly surging back up.
The man in shades was launched high, his glove clad palms snatching up the edge of the wall. But rather than lift himself immediately, the stranger continued to dangle against the sea wall. He clicked his heels together twice and instantly his half submerged "vessel" leapt free of the churning surf.
An iron turtle was the best way to describe the machine. Its forward flippers clung to the man's waist and began a careful climb further up its master's back. The iron turtle was a sizable thing, its shell wider than the man's shoulders, but it weighed surprisingly little. Moving with decent speed, the reptilian automaton dragged itself into position over the empty harness.
Its azure orbs blinking in a telescoping motion, some nodes upon the turtle's belly latched onto the leather straps of the rig. Then the robot's head and limbs retracted back into the shell, the machine entering standby with a muted whir.
Quickly hoisting himself up, the stranger sped his soggy self past some unoccupied equipment and a collection of stacked barrels. He darted into a row of large cargo containers, spinning his back into the side of one as a pair of dock workers hurried past. Waiting a moment after they departed, he visibly allowed himself to relax.
Reaching an arm up over his shoulder, the blonde tapped his hand against the top of the turtle-pack. Another, more resonant whir sounded before the section where the turtle's head would emerge opened up. Rather than the robot's skull, a metallic rod rose from the divot. The turtle-pack's wearer took the handle and drew out the device.
While the grip itself was smooth and cylindrical, the other half of the rod was flattened. The man ran a thumb along the height of the pole and the flattened end began to glow a hot red. He brought the tool upwards and hovered it over his hair.
In short order the man's drenched scalp was dried out. He swept a palm over his platinum blonde lockes, slicking the hair back into a smooth do. At the same time, he drifted the hot rod down over the rest of his body. His soaked clothes were pristine and dry in mere seconds.
"Nice. Real nice," the man commented as he lightly flung the now inactive rod over his back. The spinning tool abruptly froze in midair, just behind the stranger's had with the flat end pointing straight down. In a flash the instrument was pulled down, clicking into the top slot of the turtle-pack before drawing evenly into its depths.
Another reach backwards and a tap on the metal shell, this time near the back right section, popped another opening on the dormant machine. A circular device dropped into his waiting palm, the man walking down the lane of storage crates as he raised it to his face.
"Hey," a voice cried out, calling the man's attention. He'd exited the row of containers and been caught by a single dock employee. Judging by the tactical vest and holstered sidearm, he was probably private security. Even had the blue, forward facing cap to complete the image.
The lone security officer approached with a casual, though rather annoyed, air about him. "You're not in uniform and you don't look familiar. What's your name?"
Blinking once, the intruder raised his free hand in a placating wave. "Sorry," he began, throwing on a stupid grin, "trying to do a food delivery run. Got the customer's name on my app, can you confirm that they're here?"
Reluctantly, the guard leaned in as the shades wearing man presented his rounded device. A large screen dominated the center of the circular handheld, displaying a white background and a single, bold line of text. As the officer was realizing that he wasn't looking at a delivery app, the phone's screen exploded with blinding light. The impacted guard fell back with a yelp, landing hard on his backside.
He'd barely managed to sit up when a gloved palm clamped over the top of his skull. In an instant, a knee strike was sent rocketing into the fallen man's face. His nose was pulverized into a bloody mess, the officer thankfully knocked unconscious by the savage blow.
The blonde man stood over his downed victim, his heavy breathing evening out as he again raised his device upwards. "Nice," he rasped, striding past the unconscious man at speed, "Real nice."
Plucking a small, rubber nub from the side of the handheld, he placed it in his ear as his thumb tapped across the screen. A single ring preceded him making the call, the click of connection sounding in his ear. "Jackal here," the man in shades announced, "I'm coming into the city now." So speaking, he could see the fence lining the edge of the property, a barrier of warehouses standing just beyond. And looming high in the background was the towering sprawl of Musutafu.
There was a pause on the line. And then Kurou Ikezawa's voice rumbled, "I'm tracking Rino's cleanup crew. I'll forward you their intel."
So we start out with an introduction to Ryuken.
"Ryu" is probably not the sort of person who should be hanging out with middle schoolers. But then Daichi and crew and troublemakers, so having a "friend" with a rooftop "residence" among other "adult benefits" is probably a big boon to them. This is where they decided to go when they got into actual trouble.
There are reasons why Ryuken is pretty much in a permanent state of urban camping, things that tie quite tightly into MHA's world building. Not important for the moment, other than the fact that it is the reason why he's hesitant to have actual authority figures sniffing around his haunt.
I mean, he has all this nice stuff he's collected…
The rest of the junior high crew maintains their normal spirits.
Well, Jamie seems pretty par the course. Ranko is toughing out having a gnarled nine mil dug out of her thigh and Daichi is having a rare moment of legitimate concern. The Yankee is the odd one out of their little group, Daichi and Ranko having a much more founded relationship. It's why they have their "sharing of weakness" pretty much independent of Jamie, though Ryu is "allowed" to interrupt somewhat, showing that even their ties to the vagabond are somewhat more than with their classmate.
Even so, Jamie's not immune to Ranko's literal cries of pain, doing his best to avoid the display. And he tries to preserve Taro from the sight as well – always have to save little Taro.
The second segment of this where we returned to Aozora gave me the hardest time. I rewrote that section entirely three times before I was "satisfied" with the goings on. The first draft was turning out to be too long and rambly and the second one was just… not right. Ultimately I just wanted to get the vital points across: Hokuto proposes the assignment, our main trio confirm their involvement, the major players stay in character. This will be the point where our two stories start to actually converge.
I knew when I got the end of the interaction on Ryuken's rooftop abode that I wanted to write an additional little scene. At first I debated going back to our main cast and just showing them starting to traverse the city, opening the search. I didn't think that fat the tail end of the chapter. Then I had the thought of checking in with one of the squads Rino has looking for the kids but I didn't want to "introduce" four plus characters in the final segment of an update.
Then I thought about how we haven't met the guy Ikezawa's been in contact with and I knew this was gonna be a prime time to give him a preview.
Jackal (name pending, you'll see) is a weird guy. Weird guy with some sort of tech connection, it would seem. Also owes a favor to a severe man like Kurou and himself has very little care for the well being of others. Oh joy.
Final tidbit: it's been forever since I've seen the eponymous movie, but our boy here is named after Bruce Willis' hitman persona from The Jackal. Honestly, remember very little about the film other than the name and the fact that Willis' character was a brutal fuck.
So, the important things.
Next time: Izuku and company join the hunt and Daichi's band are on the run again.