Welcome back to A Hero's Creed and the last chapter of 2024! It's been one hell of a year; let's hope and pray the next one isn't nearly as interesting. Anyway, onto the responses:
Gamelover41592: I'm so glad you enjoyed Bakugo in the dunk tank.
kentaurus199: Steins:Gate is one of those shows that gets overlooked, so I have no problem squeezing their characters in. How long they'll survive, well...
LEGOBRICK13: There, there, no Pink Grease Demon this chapter. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter as a certain someone threatens the status quo. I think Light Yagami would be proud.
Monkey D. Conan: The waiting is over! Here's more!
Monster King: Ask and you shall receive.
Movieboy66: Poor Jiro is caught in a rough spot and Nezu wants to laugh as she flounders. Maybe there's a purpose for it? Maybe not?
nbjdawe2001: As a bit of a romantic myself, I like a certain amount of fluff with my murder. I find that AC fanfiction tends to be poor on its own but is the BEST crossover material. I'm also partial to One Piece and Harry Potter, and Naruto has a veritable fountain of stories to choose from. Leaf Ranger's Shinobi's Creed was the inspiration for this story, so if you like Naruto at all, go check that out.
Pirohito-Baltazar: Bakugo absolutely deserves that karma and All Might needs to learn to let go, but neither seems to type to learn easily. As for Ubisoft, I have mourned already. Let it die so the fans can make their own games like someone did with Fallout: London. Mods, please!
stevenpiskunov2: So, I've already written most of the Animus scene I have planned for the future. It will take about two chapters and I've had it planned out and/or written down for the majority of the year. It will follow similar narration to the rest of the story, that is third-person, but following his ancestor.
zakan: Thank you.
Guest: As much as I like the IzuOcha ship and will read it for most MHA stories, I don't get the feeling Ochako would mesh well with a more jaded and bloodied Izuku like the one here, nor is it a ship I feel would be done justice this deep into the story. So, while I like the ship, it will not be in A Hero's Creed.
Finally, a personal note. Murder is wrong and all societal changes should be made through the proper channels of voting and public discourse. The opinions and actions of the characters do not reflect the opinions of the author, especially in this politically-tumultuous time.
Chapter 67:
Public Warning
"I can't believe Bakugo," Ojiro complained, leaning on the counter of the Katanuki booth run by Shoji, Sato, and periodically Ochako when she needed some time away from the ticket booth. Ojiro was on his break and, though he had promised to explore with Toru, she had yet to be able to leave the Dance Game booth and had agreed to meet up with him when she could. The tailed student used the chance to trade some news with his dupli-armed friend. "He skipped out on three hours of work yesterday, and that was already after being missing for two between his break and being in the tank.
"You're really surprised?" Shoji questioned, most of him focused on the festival-goers trying to carefully cut cookies while taking part in the conversation with only an ear and a small mouth. "I could have bet he was going to skip out on you. Maybe not that early, though. I probably would have put my money on him just not showing up today."
"Maybe you're right," Ojiro sighed. "He didn't want to work with us, anyway. Prez and Midoriya stuck him in our group because someone had to take him after they turned down his Rage Room booth idea." He shook his head. "Frankly, I'd rather be here than at home after the news that's comes out."
"What news?"
"What, you didn't hear?" Ojiro leaned forward. "Do you follow politics at all?"
"Not really, no. I grew up in a small town where it didn't really affect us. What's got you feeling scared?"
"This last murder over the weekend. Did you hear about that, at least?"
"I did hear about that. He was some politician, wasn't he?"
"Kagareta Fuchui, yeah," Ojiro confirmed with a nod. "He was heading the Mutant Rights Movement and some quirkist went and assassinated him."
Izuku, in the booth next to them, paused for a half-second. He wasn't actively busy, letting Momo handle the current couple's little competition. The verdet tilted his head to listen in.
"A quirkist?" Shoji echoed. "Are they sure about that?"
"That's what the news is reporting, but why else would someone do it? Obviously, they want the MRM to fail, so they took out its leader."
"I'm not so sure, Ojiro. There seems to have been an increase in high-profile homicides recently from what I've heard from Ashido. Maybe it's the same guy."
"Impossible," Ojiro replied. "My parents and I have followed his career. Fuchui was an upstanding guy. He was everything a politician should be."
"I don't know if I'd go that far," Shoji replied. "Not that I don't feel for him and his family, but I have a feeling it isn't as cut-and-dry as some random quirkist getting the drop on him."
"The simplest answer is usually the correct one."
"I have a feeling that there's a lot more to this story than we know so far."
"I really don't think there is, Shoji." Ojiro shook his head. "I sure hope they catch whoever did it fast. The MRM is losing momentum by the day."
"Mashi!" Toru called, hugging him from behind. "I finally got away. You said there was a booth you wanted to show me?"
"Yeah, we need to run. I'll talk to you later, Shoji."
"Later," the other teen replied. Ojiro took Toru's invisible hand in his and took off, his prehensile tail wrapping around her waist to act romantic, better know where she was without looking at her clothing, and to keep it out of the way for the crowds of people, even if the second-day crowds were smaller than the first.
Izuku watched them go out of the corner of his eye for only a second before turning his physical attention back to his own booth — the couple was continuing their competition with the man letting his girlfriend win while trying to not make it obvious, though Izuku and Momo had both noticed — but his thoughts revolved around what he'd just heard. Unlike the last couple of kills he'd performed as the Pricetag Killer, the death of Kagareta Fuchui had not been sensationalized in the same way. In fact, the papers and news the next day had focused more on the building that had burned down, which had been explained away as the tragic result of faulty, outdated wiring.
Izuku's lips tightened. He'd taken steps to ensure the guards would've been able to recognize the Pricetag Killer's handiwork. He'd even told one outright who he was before being forced to stab him in the wrist to escape. Was it possible they had tried to cover up said claim? Did they not want to have it on record that their client had been a human trafficker and hoped to make him a political martyr instead? Would they willingly cover up the man's crimes posthumously because they believed it would damage their political image even though that was unrelated?
Izuku hated politics. They made everything more complicated than it needed to be.
Whatever the case, something more would need to be done to ensure the truth of Fuchui's death came to light in the public eye, whether his failed bodyguards and the media apparatus wanted it or not. Luckily, an idea was already coming to mind, and he had the sort of contacts that could help him pull it off.
Elsewhere in the school grounds, in the principal's office specifically, two teachers found themselves before the principal, neither willing to give an inch in their argument.
"Nezu, something must be done here!" Toshinori demanded, one hand on the rat-bear-dog-thing's desk while the other pointed at the other man sitting in a plastic chair. "I'm certain whatever paperwork there is isn't legal! It's forged if it exists at all! That poor girl can't be trusted in the hands of murderers and thieves!"
"I don't care for your accusations, All Might," Aizawa grunted, looking like he'd prefer to be anywhere else.
"I don't care," the blonde shot back. "That girl—"
"That girl has a name, All Might," the scruffy Hero interrupted. "She has a name and a Quirk and a terrible past that will come back for her one day. Life isn't some black-and-white fantasy for you to shove your two yen into every chance you can. Death comes for the righteous and the evil all the same, and sometimes all we can do is control who dies first."
"All Might," Nezu said before the man could retaliate. "I understand you have strong emotions about this matter, but I must ask: what is your suggestion to change and improve this situation?"
"The girl — Eri is her name. She should become a ward of UA. You've been looking for an excuse to make dormitories. This would give reason to start a sheltering campaign. It could be a long-term goal of building up new Heroes. The students can get practice interacting with kids while helping her thought her trauma."
"Eri is happy with Emi and me," Aizawa rebuffed. "It would be highly detrimental to her to pull her away from a happy home just because you disprove of our… our parenting," he finished with a moment's hesitation.
"You're raising her to be some undercover killer!"
"No, we're raising her to be able to defend herself and others. Hero training is very similar, isn't it?"
"Heroes don't plan to kill people!"
Nezu sighed, placing a paw on his forehead. "All Might, as much as I wish to implement the UA Heights plans, one rescued orphan is not enough to justify it, even less so seeing as she is an orphan no longer. Eraser, would you care to share how this girl, Eri, is doing?"
"Frankly, it is none of your business how I care for my ward," Aizawa answered, pointedly not looking at Toshinori despite the man's stare. "That said, she has opened up quite a bit since I first brought her home. She still has her moments of fear and anxiety, but that is to be expected given the life and handling she suffered before. Her training mostly consists of exercise and martial arts, and the tracking of her improvements has greatly buoyed her self-respect and confidence. This is also in no small part due to Emi's influence. As a positive extrovert, a woman, and a competent Pro Hero and teacher, Emi has been able to connect with Eri on a level that I cannot. To take her away from Emi would not only stunt her current progress but may cause her to backslide to the point where she loses control of her dangerous Quirk."
"You rescued her by killing her captors!" Toshinori roared. "She might be free, but at what cost? She should be cared for by people who won't train her to kill!"
"She should be cared for by those with the ability to contain her should her Quirk go haywire," the dark-haired man shot back. "You do not know what she his capable of, moreso with her lack of control in stressful situations. She needs training to manage her emotions, something you are proving that you cannot do even with all your experience."
"You…!" Toshinori growled, his hand fisting at his side as he began to steam.
"If you do anything to try to take her away, I will not be held responsible for what happens, the worse possibility of which involves you being quite-literally de-aged from existence itself and Eri blaming herself for it," Aizawa hissed. He glanced at Nezu, confirming he truly had no more cover from the eyes of Toshinori. "We of the Assassins do not just roll over. We could survive a calamity the likes of which would come from your death, All Might. Rather, we would find ways to capitalize in the chaos. That you are not yet dead despite the fact that we could benefit and easily get away with it should tell you that we have grander plans than our personal advancement. And, as much of a pain you are being in my neck, you are still an innocent and not a threat." His voice dropped to a growl. "Do not stick your neck into this and change that classification."
"I am of the mind to agree with Aizawa," Nezu offered. Toshinori nearly got whiplash from turning to stare at him too quickly. "From what I could gather, this Eri is quite happy with her current life and I am loathe to disrupt that."
Finding himself outnumbered, Toshinori switched to a different strategy. "Then what about Nighteye? Where is Mirai?"
"I don't know," Aizawa answered easily. "That wasn't us, nor are there any leads. I checked."
"You checked?" the blonde sneered. "Why the hell would you care enough to actually check?"
"Because Emi was good friends with Bubble Girl," the outed Assassin bit back. "She and Centipeder also went missing that night. Or is it that you don't care so much about the little people? Nighteye was your Sidekick, but who cares about his, huh?" Aizawa leaned forward, his lips set in a deep frown. "Believe me, this incident bothers us, too. The Templars should not have had any reason to go after Nighteye, especially after we already took care of those he was researching. Our mission that saved Eri should have also gotten the Templars off any scent of Sir Nighteye."
"He was researching you—"
"And we didn't do it. We would have dealt with the situation nonlethally."
"Like I'd believe that from a murd—"
"All Might," Nezu interrupted. "I think that is enough." The super-intelligent mammal glanced at the other teacher. "He is not lying about this. You have a memory manipulation Quirk in your ranks, do you not? You would have used him to take away all of Sir Nighteye's memories of the Assassins' existence, yes?"
"Had we needed to, yes," Aizawa nodded. "Given Nighteye's secretive nature and lack of internet presence, we never considered such a risky mission to be necessary."
Nezu hummed, giving away nothing about Nighteye's final message. The letter itself was currently locked in his desk at the request of Toshinori lest the man find himself tempted to read the written account of the vision his most-likely-late Sidekick had left behind. Nezu, however, had felt no qualms about using certain techniques to read the ink behind the cover and, thus, knew that incomplete knowledge of the Assassins had guided the man's decisions for much longer than Aizawa could possibly know.
"Are we done here?" the tired man demanded in a voice that conveyed that he would rather be quite literally anywhere else. He stood and headed for the door "I would like to check on my students."
"Wondering which ones would make good pawns and fodder for your cult?" Toshinori needled.
Aizawa paused, glancing back at him.
"I don't need to."
He left, closing the door. As he walked away, he heard Toshinori through the door.
"Principal Nezu, for the sakes of the students—!"
—AHC—
The third day of the UA Cultural Festival was just as calm as the second but felt far smoother now that the students had two days of experience under their belts. The day was so slow that some of the students had taken to watching videos and reading on their phones between visits. This was something Izuku had not expected. He didn't intend to do the same thing — he was not willing to tarnish his image as the class's Vice-Representative nor did he want to deal with the nagging Ida was sure to level on the perpetrators — but that did not mean he wasn't keeping an ear open to the news Shoji was listening to in the next booth. It seemed the conversation the day before had made Shoji curious about what the news had to say.
Frankly, Izuku wondered what they would have to say as well about this. He checked his watch and found the seconds ticking down to 11 o'clock. It was almost time.
Three… Two… One…
A piercing screech rang from every phone actively using the internet as the hour came, Shoji having to recoil as the sharp sound caught him off guard. Down the way at the dunking booth, Mina fumbled her phone but didn't have the current mindset to lament the new crack in the screen as it hit the concrete. Izuku couldn't see it, but he could picture what message was blinking across each device in big, bold, red letters.
WARNING!
THE MEDIA IS LYING TO YOU!
Izuku allowed himself a small smirk as the time came for the words to fade. He hopped over the counter of his and Momo's booth — the shocked girl hot on his heels — and ran to Shoji and his phone.
"What is it?" Izuku questioned with faux panic.
"Greetings and salutations to the people of Japan," the phones said, the garbled voice coming through as the last of the warning blurred into the image of a figure with a hood cloaked in shadow. Rather than a disposable mask, they had chosen to fabricate a blank plastic mask and attach a fake pricetag to dangle from it like an earring, said tag bearing the image of a bloody dagger. Izuku remembered having Tsuyu and Assassin Aiba help him with the costume, the latter then agreeing to assist him with filming, production, and the hacking required to pull off this stunt. If all had gone well — and there was no reason to suspect it had not — then the same message was playing across the country and had overtaken every news outlet. Digital billboards that showed the news would also be showing this message to the masses. "I am the Pricetag Killer, and my last quarry has not been done justice.
"I have been made aware that the death of Kagareta Fuchui is being reported as a political assassination, an attack on the Mutant Rights Movement for something as petty as a dislike for those who are different. I am here to inform you that this is a lie. Moreover, I am taking credit for the death of the scumbag."
There was a pause in the video as those listening reacted to it. Ojiro shouted something from another booth and Izuku heard Mina, even from the dunking booth, gasp at the information. Beside him, Momo brought a hand to her mouth, staring down at the (to them) upside-down image on the phone. Shoji's regular eyes widened. Izuku had anticipated that people would need time to process such information and had timed the continuation of his speech for such events.
"Yes, you all heard that correctly. I, the Pricetag Killer, am taking credit for the murder of Kagareta Fuchui, but I'm certain you are asking why. Many looked up to the man as a political leader and spearhead. Frankly, I don't care about such things. I care about this."
The figure in the video held up Okane Seicho's missing persons poster, the ¥198,580,000 pricetag hanging from it.
"I pinned a photo just like this to the bastard's chest with one of his campaign pens, but it seems the news did not see fit to reveal that. Some of you may recognize this woman as Okane Seicho, a former college student and a volunteer for Fuchui's campaign. She went missing over six months ago and was recently rescued during the Heartseed Slaughter, but it was too late for her and she was declared braindead. She is currently near the end of her third trimester, the result of her affair with Fuchui.
"Fuchui himself was already married at the time. I suspect when Ms. Seicho came to him with the news of her pregnancy, he became desperate. Because of his desire to hide his infidelity, he paid for Heartseed to make Okane Seicho disappear, and she spent her last months of lucidity being assaulted in the basement of that warehouse. And he thought he could get away with it by hiding behind his money and bodyguards.
"Now that the truth has been revealed, I have a message to all those who feel it is their job, their duty, to inform the populous of anything. That includes both the media and all government agencies who put their grimy little fingers on them. My message is this: there will be more killings, and I expect them to be reported for what they are. Japan will know that those who think they are above the law shall not get away with their crimes. Where the Heroes are legally bound and the courts' palms can be greased, guilt will be revealed.
"If I need to reiterate this message again, there will be consequences."
The video stopped there, fading to an image of a pricetag with a bloody dagger on its face. Izuku still wasn't sure about the design, but Samedare had insisted it looked cool. The boy had, after all, designed it for such a purpose.
Noise erupted from everywhere, students and visitors breaking into discussion about the video. The phone sitting between him, Momo, and Shoji went back to the news it had been on before, the commentors abandoning the topic they'd been discussing for immediate response to the video that had hijacked their system and the revelation that Fuchui's death had been personal, not political.
"Heroes need to be mobilized at once to catch this guy!" one of the commentors yelled, slamming his fist in the table. "Nobody in their right mind takes credit for three murders! He's an unrepentant serial killer!"
"He clearly thinks the system had failed," another panelist argued. "Yes, he needs brought to justice, but this problem is far deeper than a simple troubled mind."
"And then what?" a third person, a woman, demanded. "Let's say the Pricetag Killer is caught, but the whole system gets changed or whatever. You realize that justifies him, right? It tells people that the fastest way to change is violence and he becomes a martyr. There'll just be more of them!"
"Disgusting," Momo muttered. "Whatever the case, this killer is clearly in the wrong. He should never have taken this into his own hands."
Izuku and Shoji looked at her, the former raising an eyebrow.
"You realize his first target was a chief of police?" Izuku said.
"He should have done what he could to find someone trustworthy," the Class Representative replied. "Whatever source he has could have been used to make several, legal arrests in a much shorter amount of time, all without this bloodshed."
"I can see why he disagrees," Shoji muttered, Momo's widening eyes turning on him. "It's not uncommon for someone to get screwed over by the system or just one guy with power. It's more than likely that whatever source he has, it's the names on it that make him think the police won't help."
"What if the list has people like, I don't know, All Might?" Izuku muttered before Momo could respond. He knew the list didn't have their teacher's name, but he was making a point. "Or perhaps Endeavor? Hawks, maybe? Uwabami? Let's say the list had a big name like that and he turned it in. Do you really think the police or the HPSE would let a PR disaster like that reach the public? Do you think they'd willingly lose such a powerhouse, even quietly?"
"Surely they would not allow such a thing to go unpunished," Momo said.
"I'm not so sure, Yaoyorozu," Shoji commented. "My father once told me a lot of companies will got to great lengths to protect their images and bottom lines. The police and the HPSE are no different."
"You cannot be siding with the Vigilante."
"I'm not," Shoji replied quickly, raising his hands. "I'm just saying I think I get where he's coming from, not that it's right."
Izuku feigned a tired voice. "This is gonna be talked about for a long time," he sighed, a hand on his face.
"Do you think we're going to see people turning themselves in?" Shoji wondered.
"What do you mean?" Momo asked.
"Well, it's rare for Vigilantes to make such public statements, right? Our Ethics class taught us that most Vigilantes start out as people who feel like they must do something but either don't have a license or didn't have a Pro Hero nearby and accidently ran afoul or go beyond the self-defense laws. Most Vigilantes don't have a specific, eh, demographic, right? Or, at least, not one that's this…" He waved one of his arms. "Deliberately public?"
"Mirko was a Vigilante for a long time," Izuku offered. "She told me some stories about it. Most Vigilantes try to act like Heroes and sort of fall from grace. They don't really go looking for publicity and move more on a case-by-case basis. Some focus on specific crimes like embezzling or arson and have contacts for when they find something they don't, um, specialize in? This guy, though, apparently has a list? A list he's made perfectly clear as to why people are on it, and those people know they're on it. With this, it's like he's giving them an ultimatum: turn yourselves in and ruin your image or I'm coming for you. He's even threatened the news to try to stop them from covering things up."
"That's what I was going for," Shoji nodded. "Most Vigilantes don't give their targets forewarning and such a specific public out."
"No matter the reasoning, it's all still wrong," Momo said. "This is not how the world is supposed to fix its problems. Violence should never be the answer when dealing with the masses. Those that have done wrong should be punished, but that shouldn't mean killing them in cold blood. Evidence should be gathered and the case argued before a panel of their peers."
'Except the Japanese judicial system has a 99% conviction rate,' Izuku thought to himself. It had been that way since even before the system of Pro Heroes and Villains, and given the nature of humanity and the dark underbelly of the world Izuku was now mired in, he had no illusions that every convict was truly guilty. It was more of a 'guilty until proven innocent' mindset, especially given how judges could be punished for siding the wrong way.
"How ironic," Shoji chuckled, seemingly on the same wavelength. Perhaps it was due to the known hostility many Mutants faced from the same seemingly-unfair laws the class had reviewed before their finals the previous semester. "What you're saying sounds American, but Americans are also known for their propensity for violence."
"All Might would be proud," Izuku agreed, trying to lighten the mood.
"This is no laughing matter," Momo stated.
"Yaoyorozu, we are students," Shoji reminded her. "There is nothing we can do to catch or influence the Pricetag Killer. We should leave that to the professionals. I cannot imagine he will still be active by the time we graduate."
"Shoji's right," Izuku said, putting on a fake smile. If it looked strained, he hoped his classmates attributed it to the grim topic. "We aren't Pro Heroes yet. This case isn't ours to solve and unless someone we know is on his list, it doesn't directly affect us."
Momo sighed and turned. "I suppose you two are correct. Such news should not affect students like us, nor should we allow it to affect our daily lives. Izuku, could I trust you to handle our booth? I require some time away and fresh air."
"Go ahead," the verdet told her, returning to his post. "You can leave the booth to me. We've got plenty of prizes, so you won't need to make any more for a long while."
"Thank you." Momo started down the path, a heavy trudge in her steps as she gave her surroundings the bare minimum of focus to not run into anyone. Izuku watched her go for a long moment before turning his attention to the booth—
"That was ballsy, runt."
"Mother—!" Izuku nearly jumped out of his shoes, landing in a fighting stance. Mirko laughed in front of him, Edgeshot at her side. "Stop doing that!"
"Not until I can't get the drop on you," the dark-skinned rabbit-woman laughed. "Call it training."
"What are you even doing here, Mirko?" Izuku sighed. He gave a much more formal bow to the other Hero. "Master Kamihara."
"Greetings, Eagle Eye," the man replied, his grin hidden by his costume. "It has been a while. Mirko tells me you've been busy."
"Busy being a punching bag," he muttered.
"Oi, where's my respect, huh?" the woman demanded. Izuku raised an eyebrow at her. She cracked, grinning, and leaned forward to whisper. "A little birdie told me to come see you today. I think I know why after what just happened. I just so happened to run into this tightass on the way."
Edgeshot rolled his eyes at Mirko's language and demeanor, brushing it off.
"I may not have been in the loop, but I like to think myself as intelligent as I am quick," the man said, eyeing Izuku. "By happenstance, I find myself dragged here by Mirko at this time, so I will ask. Are my suspicions correct?"
"I'd rather not talk about it here," Izuku replied. He reached back, plucking two figurines from the top shelf to offer to the pros. Nearly every Hero his class had interned with had given their permission for their class to circumvent the Copyright laws and make figurines in their likenesses, and nearly all who had had visited to see them for themselves. Izuku decided to pretend this was why his own teachers had come by.
"Woah!" Mirko laughed, holding her figurine. "You even got my boobs right!"
"Goddammit, Mirko," Izuku muttered, a hand over his red face.
"I truly am here to see how you are doing, Midoriya," Edgeshot said, admiring his own miniature, taking Izuku's reticence to talk as confirmation of his theory. "I just came from seeing Haya at the Class 3-A booth. Did you know they chose to do a Maid Café?"
"I'm sure Haya-senpai is thrilled about that."
"She enjoys… elements of it." Edgeshot chuckled as he recalled how mixed his protégé's emotions were about getting to see her friend Nejire Hado in a maid outfit but having to wear one herself while also seeing her male classmates in the same to do so.
Izuku conversed with his teachers for a while about everything and nothing, even convincing them to challenge each other to a competition for the figurines (a challenge Edgeshot easily won, but let Mirko take her miniature anyway). When they left, Izuku's spirits were far higher than they had been before, his nerves far less frayed and his calm demeanor no longer an act. He was sure Master Kamihara would have words with him about the video's lack of subtlety and his self-assigned crusade, but a long meeting with the Mentor to make sure nothing could be traced back to the Brotherhood had greenlit the video in the first place, so there was no punishment to be doled out. All things considered, having another Master Assassin in the know to look out for him eased his nerves.
Overall, the morning had proven to be a pretty good morning.
—AHC—
Kyoka Jiro was not having a good morning. She had spent all the previous day agonizing over the "extracurricular assignment" the principal had given her. She had reasoned that she needed to corner the vine-haired Christian and ask today to give her time to think and, if she declined, time for Jiro to convince her to reconsider. Trying to figure out how to broach the topic, however, was not something the musical student had had any luck with. She didn't know anything about Ibara Shiozaki, nor did he have any public reason to approach the girl. It was not like she could walk up to her during lunch in front of everyone and say "I heard you turned down the Templars! Want to join this group instead? We've got the big rat as the puppetmaster!"
"—iro? Jiro? Hello, earth to Jiro!"
"Huh, what?" the dark-haired girl jumped a little. Kaminari was leaning on the back of the Rhythm Dance Game and waving a hand in her face to try to get her attention.
"I've been calling your name for the past couple minutes. Are you okay? You seem really out of it today."
"What? No, I'm fine. Really." She did not feel fine. She felt sick to her stomach. All this because she had to hear Izuku muttering to himself. This was all his fault.
"You don't look fine. You were out of it yesterday, too. Maybe you should take a break."
"A break… Yeah, maybe you're right." A break sounded nice, but Jiro knew she'd just be agonizing over her dilemma with different surroundings.
"Hey, how about we go together?" Kaminari offered with a grin. "It's slow today; I'm sure Tokoyami and Hagakure can easily handle a crowd like this for a bit."
"N-No, I'm fine," Jiro tried, but a raised eyebrow said that the blonde trusted her words about as much as he would trust someone who said America sank into the sea, Atlantis rose, and the sky turned green.
"Whatever it is, maybe I can help," the boy tried. "My dad's always said people get way too in their heads. Sometimes things only make sense when you say them out loud and that talking to a friend is the best way to not overthink."
"This isn't the sort of thing you can help me with."
"Then I can at least listen, right? You can vent to me."
Jiro stared at him for a long moment, Kaminari blinking at her as the stretching silence slowly turned uncomfortable. Eventually, she let out a shaky breath and rubbed her forehead.
"Okay," she relented. "Okay, fine, but this something I don't want anyone else in our class learning, alright? This is, like, spy-movie-level secrecy."
Kaminari's eyes widened, but he did not turn away from her. If anything, excitement seemed to gleam out of the windows to his soul.
"I swear I'll keep your secrets," he whispered conspiratorially. "And if you just want to vent, I could overload and go stupid for a bit, you know? I wouldn't remember a thing."
A part of Jiro really wanted to take him up on that offer, but another part of her wanted to have somebody she could genuinely talk to about her situation, somebody who understood what it was like to learn about the whole shadow war. It was selfish, but that selfish part wanted to drag somebody else into this grey area she found herself in just so she wouldn't be alone.
This selfish part of her almost won outright, but a more cautious and fearful side questioned what Nezu would do if she went blabbing to someone he hadn't approved of. Would he renege on the deal and cast her off? Would he pull his protection and leave her to the mercy of the Assassins? Before she'd realized what she was doing, she'd grabbed Kaminari's arm, desperate to have someone to hold onto.
"Jiro—?"
"Come with me," she demanded, letting her body take over before she could talk herself out of it. She shouted to the others that they were taking a break, earning a thumbs-up from Dark Shadow and a nod from Tokoyami. Jiro felt a new knot form in her gut as she heard Hagakure giggling behind them as she dragged Kaminari away. The invisible girl was going to start rumors, she just knew it.
"Er, where are we going?" the electric boy questioned as Jiro pulled him toward the main school building.
"I want to talk to you about this, but I have to get permission first. It's that sensitive."
Kaminari blinked at her back but did not reply, following her quietly. They ducked around a tall, well-dressed, older gentleman with a long, white mustache walking out of the main building and hurried inside. It only took a minute before Kaminari realized they were headed toward the principal's office, the boy mentally kicking himself for not realizing it sooner. Of course, it would be the principal whom Jiro would need to get permission from; everyone knew the principal was nigh-omniscient within the bounds of the school.
As they grew closer, the pair — one well before the other — began hearing raised voices. Jiro paused, listening to them at a point where it was just unintelligible noise for her companion.
"—Might. You cannot blame this on me."
"You know about this! I'm sure you do! I'm sure you know about a lot about stuff like this!"
"I don't know, and I don't care to know. This is not my business, nor do I ever intend for it to be."
"All Might, I believe I have asked you to stay out of this," Nezu's voice interrupted. "I do not believe Eraser has anymore knowledge about this incident than you do. Please go after the Pricetag Killer in your own time."
"But Principal—"
"Enough. Please, return to your rounds. I have another meeting to see to."
Aizawa was the first one out of the room, his eyes landing on Jiro and Kaminari down the hallway. His expression was uninterested, almost bored, but Jiro picked up the slight narrowing of his eyes. He walked past them without a word. All Might was next, the man offering the students a grin that didn't quite meet his eyes, the Number One Hero holding the door open for them.
"Jiro, Kaminari, please come in. All Might, close the door, if you would?"
A new wave of nerves washed over Jiro as she found herself alone with Kaminari and Nezu, the mammal staring at her with a gleam in his eye from over his desk. Her mouth was suddenly very dry, the fingers of her left hand forming the patterns for guitar chords as she tried to remember the songs she'd play to calm down, but everything but muscle memory failed her.
She tried to swallow. Kaminari's eyes moved from her to Nezu, the rat-bear-dog-thing seeming to smirk.
"I want to tell Kaminari," she said, the words tumbling from her mouth almost too quickly to understand. Nezu's expression didn't change, so she sucked in a breath. "I… I need someone in my class that I can talk to. I don't know anything about Ibara. I… I can't do this on my own."
Nezu grinned. "Admitting one's limitations and asking for help are two things many Pro Heroes still struggle with, Jiro. Whether you know this or not, it was brave of you to look for support to deal with a daunting task. We make allies to make our challenges easier; it is foolish to try to go on alone out of some misguided idea of not burdening others."
Jiro stayed silent, not trusting her voice. She considered what she wanted to burden Kaminari with to be a little more than something like needing a study partner. The principal turned his beady eyes on the boy.
"Kaminari, the secrecy of this knowledge is of paramount importance. I would understand if you wished to reconsider—"
"I want to help," he interrupted. "Whatever it is, I want to help. It's what Heroes do, isn't it?"
He offered Jiro a smile, the same smile she'd called stupid so many times before now easing the knot in her gut slightly. She smiled back.
"Very well, but I have a single condition." Jiro's head snapped to look at the white-furred mammal. His grin turned almost predatory. "You may tell Kaminari, but only when you approach Ibara and not a moment sooner."
"But Principal—!"
"You agreed to my terms in return for my protection, now offer me the entertainment you promised. Trust you me, it shall be a small price to pay for a new support network, yes?" He checked his watch. "Now then, Class 1-B should have about ninety minutes before their next performance. I recommend crossing that bridge immediately. Ibara is currently perusing the Support Course booths."
Jiro stood and turned to leave, pausing at the door. She looked back.
"…I'll complete the task," she said. "Just… keep us safe."
"Jiro, you have my word."
She nodded, stepping out of the office with Kaminari behind her. He closed the door and, after a moment, opened his mouth to speak. Jiro didn't give him the chance as she started off down the hallway.
"Where are we going?" he asked, catching up to her.
"To the Support Course," Jiro answered with a resigned sigh. "Let's get this over with."
End of Chapter 67
Read and Review, and a Happy New Year to you all!
-SwordOfTheGods