Learning to Trust

"Step by step… heart to heart… Left, right, left… we all fall down… like toy soldiers."
—Martika

Chapter 30: We All Fall Down

Toshinori rubbed his large hand over his face, stifling a long yawn as best he could as he stared blankly at a framed picture on his friend's desk. Toshi's eyes, however, were bleary and unfocused—and his mind was otherwise occupied—so he honestly had no idea what he was really looking at. Naomasa had stepped out of the room to make a few calls of his own, while they continued to wait for Nezu to contact them. Everything seemed to be at an uncomfortable standstill, especially now that UA had been identified as a possible target. Toshi had refused to allow the boy to go back to his dorm until it was confirmed secure by the principal. Naomasa had wholeheartedly agreed.

Tetsu—the poor kid—was exhausted enough not to care. He was curled up, dozing fitfully on a small, barely cushioned sofa in the back of Naomasa's office—a sofa that Toshi suspected Naomasa had used once or twice himself, given how easy it had been for him to find the kid a pillow.

Toshi was tired enough to nap as well, but he knew that even if he were willing to do so, his overactive mind and physical discomfort would have kept him awake anyway. Another sharp pain in his side left him suddenly breathless, and Toshinori had to take a moment to steady his breathing until the pain faded. His brow furrowed as he absently rubbed his scar. The pain would be making everything more difficult if he didn't take something for it. This particular flare-up had started a few hours ago, but the pain generally came in predictable waves, and so far had been fairly spread out. He'd been able to hide behind a smiling mask as he'd done in the past. These sorts of flare-ups happened—especially after an illness or in particularly bad weather—and while they were definitely inconvenient, they were nothing new. Typically he took a stronger pain medication to tide him over, and rested for a couple of days when they happened.

He sighed. But that wasn't really an option this time. That specific medication made him drowsy, and Toshinori didn't currently have time to lose resting, not to mention the fact that he needed to be as mentally sharp as possible. It was bad enough that he'd agreed to table All Might for now… but now that Naomasa was depending on Toshi's mind, the old hero couldn't bear to let him down over something as stupid as pain. His lined brow furrowed further. I wonder if a few ibuprofen would be able to hold this off—at least until we have Shifter in custody… Someone probably has some extra strength lying around somewhere…

Of course Naomasa would have gladly provided some, or sent another officer to Toshinori's local residence to get it, but that was all the more reason for Toshi to say nothing to his friend. The police had plenty to deal with on their own. And honestly, Toshi had felt worse in his long career. He could just grit his teeth and bear it.

How bad could it be?

As if on cue, the scar flared up in an agonizing lance of pain. He clutched his side, wheezing and waiting for it to pass. Okay… this is worse than expected. He hissed painfully through clenched teeth as he began roughly calculating. He had missed his last dose of pain medication, and was almost due for the next. Shit. He hadn't gone this long without anything to dull the pain in a long time. No wonder his body was protesting so badly. Another knife of pain sliced through him like a hot blade. For a moment his vision flashed white and red, and he sat down hard on Naomasa's office chair, wheezing harshly, and struggling to get air, even with the oxygen.

Just need to let it pass. Just need to keep breathing.

Another sharp pain. He gritted his teeth, ashamed of the small moan that escaped.

Pathetic… old man. Can't even handle a little pain anymore?

Suddenly he felt a strong pair of hands on his shoulders, and heard a voice forcefully repeating his name. It sounded like the man had been doing it for a while now. It contained the starting edge of controlled panic.

The pain finally subsiding, Toshi's eyes opened, and the worried face of Tsukauchi slowly came into focus.

"Toshi! What the hell? Are you okay?" His friend knew better than to call for backup until he was sure it was necessary—at least where Toshinori was concerned—but it was obvious that it was taking everything in him to keep his voice down.

Toshi managed what he hoped was a reassuring, if weak, smile, and took a testing breath, realizing that he'd stopped breathing briefly when the pain had become too much.

He took another tentative breath, but this time another milder spasm caught him mid breath, and he began coughing harshly. The detective grimly reached across the desk to grab some tissues from a box and hand them over.

Toshinori took them, controlling his cough as much as possible. His shoulders shook with each harsh hack, and it felt like Nomasa's steady hands were the only thing keeping Toshi from coughing himself to pieces. That firm grip was comforting.

Toshi hated needing it.

Dammit…

He exhaled slowly and attempted another shuddery breath, finally breathing well enough to quietly mop up his face and drop the handful of disintegrating tissues into the nearby trash can. The pain was fading as fast as it had come.

Of all the times for a damn flare-up to start…

"I'm fine," Toshinori managed, trying to force a little strength into his breathless words. "It looked worse than it actually was, I'm sure." He moved to get up to show Naomasa just how fine he was, but the other man's firm grip hadn't released, as though he'd expected Toshi to do just that.

"Sit," the detective said softly, his voice low with concern. "You're not fine. What the hell was that?"

"Just a flare up," he replied as casually as he could, hoping the detective would take the hint. Toshi's eyes skipped away from his friend's concerned brown eyes to instead focus on the picture. "It happens every so often…" He trailed off there, finally focusing on the picture he hadn't properly been looking at for the past several minutes.

"Just?" Naomasa grabbed another chair and dragged it beside Toshi to sit down hard. "You've never looked like that before, and I've known you for how long now? Four years? Five? Tell me that's not a regular thing."

When Toshi didn't immediately answer, Naomasa took a deep breath, then another, before speaking again. "How regular, Toshi?"

Something in the detective's voice finally managed to tear Toshi's eyes from the photograph that he'd been silently studying. But one look at the man's worried expression, and Toshinori glanced away again, unnerved by the intensity of his friend's stare. "You're worrying too much… my friend."

Naomasa's expression was steely. "I'm not, actually." His words were slow and metered. "You don't tell me much, and I generally don't push about your health, but I'm not blind, Toshi. You aren't taking care of yourself, and your health is getting worse." He paused, then asked gently, "How long have you been having these flare ups?"

Toshi bit back a sigh of frustration, and instead flashed a quick grin at his friend. "You're worrying too much, Naomasa. I'm fine. I've had them for a while now. They come and go."

Naomas did not smile back. "Can you take anything for it?"

"I'll take some ibuprofen if you have it."

"You can take that?"

Toshi shrugged. "Probably. What's the worst that could happen?" He tried to grin and lighten the mood, but apparently Naomasa was having none of it.

The younger man's eyes narrowed. "The worst that could happen, Toshi, is that it could interact with your heart medication." At that, Toshi's smile dropped. Naomasa just quirked an eyebrow and responded simply, "You have a heart condition now, don't you? I'm assuming you're medicated for that?" When Toshi didn't immediately respond, he added, "Look, you may not tell me everything—or even much of anything, to be honest—but I'm a detective for a reason. I have eyes. I've seen how you hold your chest, and I know you see a cardiologist. I dropped you off there once, remember?" At Toshi's silence, he continued, "So I'm going to ask again… what medicine can you have that won't interact with anything else? Or should I just call Recovery Girl?"

"That isn't necessary."

"Then answer the question, or you will be the one explaining to Recovery Girl why I had to call and wake her up. I'm not going to risk putting you in cardiac arrest because of some Advil."

Toshinori sighed in exasperation, but couldn't help the small, genuine smile this time that twitched his lips. "You know, detective, I always assumed you played the good cop in interrogations. I guess I was wrong…" The faint smile lingered in his lips as he answered. "Ibuprofen will be fine. I promise." He hesitated briefly, and then inwardly shrugged and continued. No reason to hide this of all things. "I take a PTSD medication it can interact with, but I can skip that one for now. I don't have it with me anyway."

Naomasa stiffened in apparent surprise for a moment before he quietly nodded, and finally replied, "All right, then. I'm sure someone has an Advil in the station. I'll find you something…" His voice sounded oddly distant. "Do you need anything else?"

"No."

Hesitantly, he added, "And the PTSD…?"

After an awkward moment of silence, Toshinori continued. "I'm not getting into details right now, Naomasa. This isn't the time or the place." Before the detective could get a word in, he quickly added, "But if it makes you feel better, I can debrief you on my health after this case, all right?"

"It would certainly make me worry less…"

Another uncomfortable silence passed before Naomasa finally sighed. "Fine. At least you're still wearing the oxygen." He chuckled softly, drawing Toshi's attention again. The worry hadn't left his eyes, even as he continued in a voice of strained levity. "Honestly, Sansa and I were taking bets on how long it would be before I had to shove that cannula back up your nose."

Toshi finally cracked a grin of his own at that. "Your friends have so much faith in me," he replied.

Naomasa shook his head. "You're kidding, right? I know you better than Sansa. I expected you to rip it out and misplace the bag almost immediately. I owe him lunch now."

He patted Toshi on the shoulder, smiling tiredly. "I'm going to see if we've heard anything from Nezu." He squeezed his friend's shoulder gently. "Toshi, are you sure you're fine? I'll find you some Advil and some water, but can I get you anything else? Or even just send someone—"

"No. No. It's fine. It's already faded." Toshi shook his head. "I'll be fine now. These things come and go. They really do look worse than they are. I promise."

Naomasa hesitated for a moment and, probably realizing that this was a losing fight, finally sighed and glanced back at young Tetsu, still sleeping fitfully on the sofa. "Look, I think the kid's fine alone for a bit. Why don't you get some rest of your own? I'm sure we could find somewhere quiet for you." At Toshi's lack of response, he switched strategies. "Or we could find you a quiet space if you want to step out and try Aizawa again."

Toshi finally nodded, absently rubbing at his side.

The detective didn't miss that, and added, "But we will be discussing this later, Toshi. No more secrets. Not between us, at least."

Standing, Naomasa stretched his stiff limbs, and, yawning, stepped out the door, catching it just in time to keep it from slamming and waking the boy.

It wasn't until the door was completely shut that Toshi attempted to take a full breath, struggling to ignore the pain that still cut through his side—agonizing, though marginally duller.

Of all times for my injury to flare up. Must be the weather. His eyes glanced at the desk clock. And probably the fact that I'm due for my second missed duloxetine dose.

His eyes were drawn again to the photograph by the clock—a photo of him and Naomasa from what felt like ages ago. He picked up the small framed image. I need to get him a better photo. I look terrible in this. His brow furrowed. It had been another of his flare up days, and honestly, he remembered laughing and smiling more that day than any other, hoping it would keep anyone from noticing. It had been a stormy day that day, too.

His eyes scanned the cluttered desk. Wonder where the rest of his pictures are, he absently thought. He spotted a small one of Makoto, Naomasa's sister, but that was it.

Toshinori sighed, too tired to think about it, and, setting the photograph back down and tugging the phone back out of his pocket. He glanced down.

Still no call from Aizawa. Toshinori's jaw tightened as he glanced at the clock again. It had been a long time since he'd made that first call to Aizawa. Usually night patrols started at sundown. Patrols typically lasted eight hours at most, especially at night. Anything longer ran the risk of wearing the hero out. Toshinori knew that personally, as he had often ignored those guidelines himself.

Aizawa didn't seem like the type to ignore logical guidelines though. He should have ended a few hours ago. Maybe he's sleeping?

He toyed with the idea of seeing if Midnight or Mic would mind going to his apartment and bringing him in if that were the case. But what good would he be to any of them if he was too tired to keep his eyes open?

Toshi glanced away from the screen. Something about this bothered him. Aizawa was the most detail oriented person he'd ever met. He couldn't imagine the man not checking his phone for messages before calling it a night. And Mic had assured them that Aizawa was working, and would likely call when he was done, if for no other reason than to complain.

He stood up, stuffing the phone back into his pocket, since there really was no point in calling again. Maybe the phone was just powered down or charging when he called. Maybe he forgot to turn the sound on. Did he really know Aizawa that well anyway? He was making assumptions now.

After one more glance back at the boy, Toshi walked to the door and twisted the knob, pulling it open quietly.

Maybe he would talk to the others about it. They knew Eraserhead better than he ever could. Maybe he had messaged them first…

Because something about the radio silence gave Toshinori a bad feeling in his aching, non-existent gut.

Yamada shook his head and shrugged, glancing at Toshinori over his yellow sunglasses. "I don't know what to tell you. Eraser is usually on top of checking his phone when he gets in. He should have answered by now."

"Is there any chance that he stayed out late?" Toshi asked, tugging lightly at his long bang.

"Not likely. He's as by the book as a person can get," Kayama laughed.

Yamada took a swig of his coffee. "Yeah. She's got that right." He seemed to notice Toshi's agitated fidgeting, and added with a grin, "I wouldn't worry about it though. He probably just forgot to charge his phone again. The one he uses is practically an antique. It loses charge constantly, and he's too stubborn to get a new one. It dies on him all the time now."

Kayama nodded. "That thing's only good for getting emergency alerts and for tracking him when he gets too far ahead of us." She smiled at Toshi, and then batted his hand away from his long hair. "Stop that," she murmured, smiling. "You're going to make yourself bald if you keep pulling on your hair like that."

His blue eyes flicked over to her, surprised as he always was by her comfortable teasing. He flushed slightly, muttering out a distracted, "Sorry. I'm just…"

"Worried?" Her lips curled up into a knowing smile. "Of course you are," she purred. She glanced back over to Yamada. "Mic, why don't we go fetch Eraserhead, ourselves? Goodness knows how long he will be, and he's either at home or on campus by now. We can split up and cover more ground."

"Sure!" He turned his grin on Toshi. "Hey man, you good holding down the fort here with the kid for a few? I know it's usually your thing to be in the mix, but we shouldn't be long, and that poor kid is gonna freak if he's alone here with strangers."

Toshinori smiled tiredly and nodded. He wasn't so much of a fool as to think for a second that Yamada's only concern was young Tetsuya—everyone seemed determined to keep Toshinori out of the action for now, and honestly, he understood and appreciated it, but it was still frustrating. Still… they were right. The boy was frightened and needed a familiar face. And until they heard back from Nezu, everyone agreed that it wasn't safe to move the kid just yet. Not when he was the Shifter's most likely final target. "You two go on," he rumbled quietly, rubbing his side. "I'll keep my phone on me. Keep me updated."

"Right on!" Yamada gave Toshi a wink and a thumbs up before motioning to Kayama. "Let's go, m'lady! The carriage awaits!"

She just rolled her eyes. "Shut up, Mic. I'm the one driving." She turned back quickly to Toshi, "We'll update you every twenty minutes, just in case. Can't be too careful with this crazy on the loose. If you don't hear from us by the half hour mark, call in the cavalry."

Toshi's eyes darkened and he nodded.

With that, they headed out the door.

Toshi's phone vibrated, and he immediately checked. It was Kayama.

Kayama: Not at his apartment. We're heading over to UA now. If he's debriefing with Nezu, it would explain why we haven't heard from either of them. I'll check back in soon.

Toshi sighed, typing out a quick response and shoving his phone back in his pocket before resuming his pacing in Naomasa's office.

The detective glanced up, dark circles under his eyes and stubble shadowing his jaw. He ran his hand through his usually neat hair for the hundredth time, making more of it stand messily on end. "Toshi," the man said firmly, but quietly, since the boy was still resting on his sofa. "Sit. You're going to wear a hole in my floor."

Toshi immediately dropped into the chair. "Sorry," he muttered, before flinching as another wave of pain flashed across his scar, almost making him nauseous. He grabbed the small bottle of extra strength Advil Naomasa had presented him with and popped one in his mouth, washing it down with the half-filled bottle of water he'd left on his friend's desk.

Naomasa watched him silently for a moment. When the pain had clearly passed, he asked, "How many of those have you taken?"

Toshi glanced up. "Three." Before Naomasa could say a word, he added. "I can take up to four of these as long as I space them out, Naomasa. I asked the doctor. It's fine."

The other man just nodded, purposefully looking back down at his paperwork. "Are they helping?"

"Yeah. Taking the edge off at least." He chuckled. "Generally that's all I ever ask from a painkiller these days."

Naomasa just sighed, but didn't respond.

Toshi took one last swig from his bottle of water and set the nearly empty container on the paper All Might coaster on his desk. Toshi smiled at that, asking, "Your coworkers ever give you a hard time about all the All Might merch you have in here?"

The detective just chuckled, typing something into his computer before glancing back at the file in his hand. Several others sat strewn across his desk. "Not much. They know I collaborate with Might Tower. They're fine with your weird gifts." He snickered a bit. "I mean, it isn't like I let them see the fancy soaps you give me for my sister. That could raise some eyebrows."

Toshi's face split into a grin. "I never thought of that! I just wanted that stuff to go to good use. Usually I give it to the employees, but the rose scented stuff was never very popular."

Toshi straightened the photo next to the coaster. Glancing up at his friend, he commented lightly, "Speaking of your sister, did she make you put her artwork on your desk?"

Naomasa stopped what he was doing to stare at Toshi in confusion. "Artwork?"

The blond motioned at the photo. "Didn't she take this? I figured she must have bribed you to put it up here."

Naomasa just shook his head and looked back at the computer. "Of course not. Don't be ridiculous, Toshi. You should see Sanza's desk. There's no space for files. Just cat pictures. Aizawa loves his office." He shrugged and kept typing. "We've all got pictures like that on our desks."

"Pictures like what?"

Naomasa glanced up again, this time with an incredulous look on his face. "Family. Friends." At Toshi's blank stare, Naomasa's expression softened, and he clarified gently. "Pictures to remind us what and who we're working to save."

"Why a photo of me?"

"You aren't deaf, Toshi. I know you have exceptional hearing."

Toshi smiled in confusion. "So you're fighting for me and your sister?"

At that Naomasa looked up seriously. "Yes, Toshi. I am. My sister is the only family I have left after our parents died. You know that. I work my ass off so she can do all of her crazy stunts and be happy. And I'm willing to work just as hard to make it so you don't have to." He leaned forward. "It's okay to have other people want to help you. You don't get to have a monopoly on caring." They stared at each other for a long moment before Naomasa finally turned back to his laptop. "Now, I'm sorry, but I really have to get Mic's information inputted to the system before it logs me out again."

Toshi nodded. "Right. Sorry." He motioned to one of the files on the desk. "Mind if I look over the missing person report again? I haven't had a chance to see the data on the last few victims from Musutafu."

Naomasa motioned for him to go ahead, and Toshi grabbed the file, flipping it open, more to give himself something different, and less confusing to think about, than any real need to see the new files.

His eyes skimmed the new names anyway. Iwata Aiko—fourteen years old and from one of the wealthier parts of Musutafu—a distance from UA. Went missing four days ago when she was coming for a campus tour of UA. Quirk: Remote. Toshi squinted at the cramped description. She could make people fast forward, rewind, or even mute them for short bursts of time, just like images on a television controlled by a remote control.

His eyes skipped down to the next one. Takasugi Ryuichiro—eleven-year-old middle schooler living two blocks from the UA campus grounds. Went missing from outside of his apartment building on his way home from school. Quirk: Flashbulb. Capable of creating a bright flash that can blind anyone within range for up to ten minutes.

Toshi's brow furrowed. Something's off about these victims. Their quirks don't add up…

His eyes skipped down to the final victim. Tanaka Haru—Eighteen years old. Spent time in and out of juvenile centers and recently broke out of jail. Villain name: Floodgate. Toshi froze at that.

"Shit…" he hissed.

Naomasa glanced up at that, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "What is it? What do you see?"

"These last few victims don't match the MO of Shifter's quirk snatching. Did you notice?"

Naomasa glanced down, reading the file upside down. "Care to explain?"

But Toshi didn't respond, instead grabbing Takahashi's shell enhancement, printed out and filed. He studied the kanji carefully. "Eliminate. Heroes. Final," he murmured.

He glanced up at Naomasa, and flipped the paper, shoving it toward him. "Look at this. Does it look like there might be more words after this one?" He pointed at the kanji for "eliminate."

The detective squinted at it. "I suppose so. I mean, there are more scratches, but it's hard to tell if they're intentional or not. If they are, I suppose they could be another word." His eyes narrowed. "Toshi," he asked seriously. "What's going on in that head of yours?"

"The quirks…" Toshi murmured more to himself than anything. "…Weather manipulation, Remote, Flashbulb…" He began tugging at his bang. Weather manipulation… Remote… Flashbulb….

"Toshi?"

"These aren't right. Look at them. Every single other quirk stolen was always about regeneration, strength, stamina…. But these… Naomasa—these last three are different. The MO doesn't match. These three… feel almost random…"

Naomasa nods, "I noticed that, but Weather, Remote, and Flashbulb… what's the connection? Everything else fits the Shifter's MO. I suppose it could be a copycat."

Toshi shook his head. "No. It's her. I'm sure of it. It feels more like she has a different use for these than the others." He narrowed his eyes. "Weather manipulation… That one is more than just weather. Honestly, the weather was less of a problem than the cold. Shifter was able to briefly incapacitate All Might with the cold. And Midnight couldn't actually use her quirk for anything but defense…. If Shifter is still using that quirk, I'm glad Mic is out there with Midnight. Just in case…". His eyes scanned the quirks again, before widening. "Shit."

"What is it? Use other words, Toshi."

"Floodgate can mitigate Midnight's power."

"Yes. But as you mentioned, she has Mic too."

"But Shifter can use more than one quirk now. And now she also has remote—the ability to mute." His eyes shot up to meet Naomasa's. "She expected Midnight and Mic to be involved in this. She wanted them to come for her. That's why this was broadcast on Mic's show. It was to draw them out. And Flashbulb…" His eyes shot to the shell image again. "Can blind someone…". He slapped his finger down on the enhancement. "Naomasa, that kanji doesn't mean Eliminate. It's the word Sho… Erase…" He locked eyes with Naomasa. "Shifter is targeting heroes from UA. She's starting with Mic, Midnight, and Eraserhead… and we just sent them to her!"

Author's Note: Thank you so much for reading and (hopefully) reviewing! I really appreciate your patience, and I hope you are enjoying the story. Also, thanks to lolo popoki and grany_griffin for their invaluable beta work!

Happy reading! Enjoy!

Sincerely,
Sirius:)