Chapter Twenty-Three: Information
Itsuka knocked on the door. Hearing no immediate response, she waited a minute and tried again, only to be met again with silence. She leaned over to the window, and found the lights turned out. Strange. She tried the the doorknob and it door swung open with a slight creak, and was greeted with a cool flow of inside air.
"Hello?" She began to venture inside, but the lights were out, and there was no sign of anyone being there. "I'm Itsuka Kendo. I'm with the U.A. Heroics course."
Hearing nothing in answer, Itsuka looked in and down, and saw an old man lying in a pool of-
"Oh my god!" Itsuka didn't shriek, though her voice did crack a little.
"I'm alive," the old man said, popping back up.
Blinking at the sight, Kendo said the only thing that was making sense.
"Eh?"
Looking closer, she saw the sausage links and ketchup for what they were. In the low light, the angle, and being partially obscured by the old man, it looked all the world like someone's intestines had spilled out.
Nonetheless, Itsuka flicked on the lights, casting a better light to view of the scene before her. A second look and seeing it for what it was, she relaxed a little, even as the old man sat up to plop in the middle of the mess to stand.
"Whoopsie," the old man said, quivering in place as he brushed himself off. "I was carrying a nice, big, plate of sausages covered in ketchup when I accidentally tripped and fell down. Clumsy me!"
Well… thought Itsuka. This is strange.
Looking up at her, the old man asked, "Now who did you say you were?"
"I'm Itsuka Kendo, from U.A. Heroics course."
The old man tilted his head and leaned in, as if hard of hearing. "Huh?"
Repeating any louder didn't get her anywhere, and the old hero looped back to the start of introductions, only to skip over it altogether in favor of a request for food.
"Is this a hazing ritual? I'm I being hazed?" She asked, shaking her head. "Never mind that. You're Gran Torino, right?"
"That's me!"
"I'm Itsuka Kendo. You put in an internship offer for me for the week. Do you remember that?"
"Nana?"
Itsuka's eyes widened slightly. Not a number. Not an affectionate nickname for a grandma. A name. It was something. And it more or less confirmed she was at the right place. It did not, however, inspire any kind of confidence. And she began reaching for her cell phone, slowly.
"Okay…Can I make a call right quick?" she asked.
Without waiting for him to reply, she backed up a little towards the entryway again, only stopping short when he turned over to inspect her costume case, casually flipping the latches and reminding her she had dropped it in the initial shock.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"Go ahead and throw off a punch with One for All." There was a solidity to his voice that hadn't been there before, almost an order, but not quite "I want to see how far you've come along holding it."
Is this even the same guy? Shaking her head, Itsuka regathered her thoughts again for what had to be the tenth time in a minute. "Are you sure about that?"
The old man tilted his head again and asked, "Hey, now. What are you doing here, youngster?"
She had kept an eye on the old man the entire time, and even then, she wasn't sure when exactly it happened. Years of learning to read posture, to anticipate, it had not prepared her for an old man going from hobbling loony without an ounce of potential aggression to violence incarnate slamming into her at full speed, knocking her legs out from under her.
Itsuka reached out to avoid falling to the floor, only to be blown aside by a passing gust of wind as Gran Torino zipped to and fro without any sign of slowing, even as he bounded from wall to floor to ceiling without a care for the divots he left behind. It was nigh impossible to see him as more than a blur before he had come to a rest at the doorway, all traces of senility gone, instead replaced by shrewd, calculating eyes and a stern scowl.
"Not bad, but not enough. It's time to put you through the paces, zygote."
Winded and flat on her back, Itsuka groaned and righted herself.
"Go ahead and put your costume on. The bathroom's in the corner over there."
[IB]
Sorahiko leaned on his cane, only to keep himself from fidgeting. There was a laundry list of issues he had seen between the Sports Festival and in that brief introduction.
Kendo seemed like the earnest, hard working type. She didn't blow a gasket at the "senile old man" routine, and even the "blood and intestines" display hadn't done more than briefly shock her. Maybe she was too used to other people playing pranks on her, or maybe she was just a bit sharper on that count.
It had still been funny to watch her jump when he had shouted at her.
Jokes aside, she was still too caught up in how she was trained and still struggling to integrate One for All into the mix. Not fast enough. All Might's failing, if anything; the brat never really had to work at bearing up the legacy or harnessing the Quirk's power, so he didn't know where others could stumble.
Still. Not as bad as it could have been. Could have been a complete novice that couldn't use it at all without breaking herself. The girl reminded him a little of Nana, except Nana would have already tried backhanding him into the wall in that first bout, or just straight up slammed him into the ground.
At that moment, Kendo – no, Ducati stepped out of the bathroom, rolling her shoulders back as she prepped for the next round.
"Apologies in advance for any property damage," she as she rolled her shoulders back, setting her feet. "I look forward to working with you."
No, Kendo was not Nana any more than she was Toshinori, or her parents. And he would have to take that into account.
A twisted smirk came to Sorahiko's mouth. It would certainly be fun putting her through the paces.
[IB]
It was time. There was only so many tasks Nighteye could occupy himself with to avoid this task. Not without outright snubbing someone he had directly invited, or otherwise stretching the bounds of propriety. At the very least, he was confident that he had his emotions under control, and could keep himself from reacting when he finally laid bare eyes on Midoriya.
Out in the bullpen, Nighteye cast a calculating gaze across the room. Laughter lightly trailed around, following the warm smells of tea, coffee, and pastries wafted. It was a quiet day, fortunately. All the real excitement was in Hosu at the moment, and Nighteye hoped the Hero Killer would be caught soon rather than wait until the Villain was prowling the streets near his agency.
"That's cool!" a voice trailed from the other side of the office. "Are there any other aspects of your Quirk, or is it just the mutation?"
Speaking of Villains… Nighteye stopped and watched with a sort of perturbed fascination over All for One's spawn's rapid-fire barrage of questions. Remarkably, Centipeder was pleasantly surprised by the questions, and seemed happy enough to answer. Any effort to listen in was curtailed when Mirio approached, waving him down.
"Good afternoon, Sir!" his protege cheerfully greeted, then went straight into his report. "I brought Limelight with me. No issues getting across town."
"Much appreciated, Mirio. I will acquaint him with the office. I have plans for a light spar before dinner. You can show him to his quarters for the week afterwards that."
His protégé beamed at the prospect. "It'll be fun, having a junior around. I will do my best to take care of him, Sir."
Fun. Nighteye turned the words over, wondering how any part of this ordeal could be considered fun. The world was balanced on the knife's edge, and the only reliable way to see things safely through would be making sure All for One and his ilk had no room to maneuver. If he couldn't empower Lemillion to rise to the occasion, he could at least work towards investigating the whereabouts and active plans.
As Mirio had already gone his way to prepare, it was up to Sir Nighteye to step in and do his duty.
"Thank you for your assistance, Centipeder." he interjected, neatly stepping just between the two to catch their I can take it from here." He turned to face All for One's progeny directly, keeping rage and bile flung far to the back reaches of his mind. "Mr. Midoriya, if you will come with me. We can review the terms of your stay with the agency in my office."
Midoriya gave a long, drawn-out whistle when he stepped past the office door. "Dang. That's a lot of All Might merch and memorabilia. And I thought my collection was pretty extensive. Whoa! Is this one of the limited-run New Years snow globes?" Instead of immediately heading for the chair in front of Nighteye's desk, Midoriya flitted from displays and posters, critically evaluating the memorabilia, talking as he went. "I can't help but wonder: why did you part ways? You two were quite the power duo when you were working together, and then…nothing. No public crisis as far as I could see. No incidents that showed a loss of cohesion or competence on either side."
Nighteye aborted the impulse to clench his hands before it reached them. Of course. He had expected that while he was investigating Midoriya, Midoriya might be testing him in turn, possibly probing known opposition for All for One, but it was something different to experience firsthand. He could refuse to answer, but not answering might arouse more suspicions.
So, he answered, "It was a matter of diverging interests and philosophies that saw us part ways."
"Ah. Like Best Jeanist and Edgeshot?"
And wasn't that aggravating. That such an explanation was enough, or that it seemed so banal, rather than one of the defining moments of his life? And the casual regard he had for the event…it was as if Midoriya was intentionally prodding for open wounds to salt.
So Nighteye went for his refuge of the last six years: business. Directing his nominal intern to the open chair, and then sat across from him, elbows on the desk and hands tented in front of his face.
"My agency focuses primarily on intelligence gathering and analysis, though as you might be aware, I also employ field teams, both for policing and patrol, as well as search and rescue.
Seeing that Midroiya had pulled out a notebook to faithfully jot down instructions, Nighteye continued, "For the duration of the week, you will be focusing on procedure and training. You may be asked to accompany patrols closer towards the agency, provided conditions are favorable."
"I'm looking forward to it," Midoriya answered.
[IB]
Itsuka stretched herself out again, readying for the next exercise. Taiyaki was not what she considered a suitable meal for strenuous physical activity, but between that and the take-out, she could make do.
The first bout had been brutal, to say the least. Enough for her to grasp fraction of why All Might spoke of him with such dread. When the fight had started, he had opened up with a rather dizzying barrage of punches and kicks from every which angle possible, and some that Itsuka thought should have been impossible. Anything to break her concentration on keeping One for All running at a steady hum.
The microwave had been a regrettable casualty in the scuffle, but one she was happy to accept the beratement over, seeing that Gran Torino was satisfied with her control. Mostly.
Speaking of the devil, her temporary teacher emerged from the second floor. "Ready for a patrol?"
"So soon?"
"No sense in puttin' it off. I could run you through more spars, but that's not likely to do much and we're short on time as it is, so all that's left is practical experience."
"Mr. Torino, do you mind if I ask you some questions?" Itsuka asked. "About One for All and its previous holders?"
"Depends on what you're askin'. Details are pretty sparse, what with hiding from All for One and keeping themselves out of public eye for the longest time."
"Anything you won't answer? Anything too personal?"
"I've got a thick skin. Ask whatever your little heart desires, but do it quickly."
"Nana Shimura: who was she?"
Gran Torino goes stone-still for a moment. "Where did you hear that name?"
"Dad talked about her, but it was mostly in relation to teaching All Might and being friends with you. That she was a Pro-Hero, she and All Might were close when he was still young enough to be a student. That sort of thing. And when I asked All Might about it, he, well…he didn't shut down, but I think he got kind of lost in the past. I'm not sure if he's ready to really talk about it."
"It's something that's been buried for decades. Not "being ready" stops cutting it after a while." Gran Torino sniffed sharply through his nose. "She was a friend of mine back in the day. Save my life more times than I could count, and I did the same for her."
"How did it happen?"
"Tell you what: if you want anymore answers, see if you can keep up 5% for five minutes at a sprint." He turned to the door, a smirk twisting his face as he walked away. "Try and keep up."
Taking the challenge for what it was, Itsuka strode after her teacher and revved up One for All before launching after him.
[IB]
In some light workout clothes, Izuku followed Nighteye to the gym attached to his agency, anticipation brimming at low hum beneath his skin.
By a casual glance, the place looked like it had been more rugged and industrial before renovations, all of which looked to have been done in the last five years. Better lighting, sound-proofing to keep the street noise at a low, background level. The weights, bars, and machines looked like they cost a pretty penny when put together, and were kept in good condition.
In the boxing ring, Togata bounced on the balls of his feet, shadow-boxing at an imaginary target.
Nighteye came to a stop, hands clasped behind his back. "This will be a full-contact spar. I expect you to go to a minute, or until knock-out."
"Sir?" Togata interjected, "Are you sure about that?"
"You've been my student for more than a year, and I would say that Midoriya has proven his proficiency in hand-to-hand combat. Not to worry, we have a crash cart and a medical facility to hand any minor injuries. Anything more serious and we can rush you to the hospital two blocks down without any trouble." Togata still seemed uncomfortable, but accepted the precautions for what they were. "Now, Midoriya, do you have any further questions?"
Izuku thought it over for a moment. "Seeing as I already signed the paperwork for this, not really. How much of my Quirk am I allowed to use?"
"I would advise not making use of it for a diagnostic test."
"Understood." Izuku climbed into the ring and took his place opposite of Togata
"Are you ready to go, Midoriya?" Togata asked.
"Yes, Togata-sempai," Izuku answered, giving a brief thumbs-up as All for One activated. "I am ready to learn." Up Gear: 3. Push, Pull, and Reinforcement, just to where this is going.
Togata flashed a smile and then vanished into the ground.
Looking around, Izuku braced for the inevitable attack. Where is he going to come from?
The answer came the next second, Togata flying straight up through the floor at speed, Izuku only stepping out of the direct path by pure chance. Togata didn't slow, immediately dropping down and launching from another angle.
Izuku went to block, only for Togata to slip right through his arm and rematerialize in time to hit him square in the chest. Even pulling his punches, Izuku was gasping from the first hit. He Pushed off the back of the ring to stabilize his stance, and then took an uppercut at high-speed.
There was something strange about tracking him. When he dropped, it was almost as if he vanished from his senses. Reinforcing did nothing for a target that moved through material without resistance, and even RPG seemed to glitch out when Togata was phased entirely through an object.
Good news? It telegraphed when he engaged and disengaged his Quirk. Bad news was that Izuku had no way of countering the problem except dodging, and Togata was always back on his feet to turn so quickly that it hardly mattered.
Up Gear: 4. It had been a long time since he had fully pulled on Limelight, and Prof had no troubles reminding him why. Namely by refusing the answer.
Pushing up, Togata flew beneath him, then suddenly launched backwards. Izuku pushed against what was physically present, and received a kick to the side when Togata spun with the motion, flinging Izuku into the ropes.
Come on, Prof.
Limelight remained silent, and the fourth slot remained empty.
Damn it! Fine! Crystal, you're up!"
The makeshift shield he fielded nearly shattered on impact, as did the next, both fragmenting when Togata zipped around to strike behind him.
"Time," Nighteye
More than a minute. Almost two.
"Is there any particular reason you strictly reacted to Mirio's movements rather than taking proactive measures to thwart any avenues of approach?"
"I've never fought anyone like him before. Most of them don't simply pass through blocks. And defense is one of my weaknesses. Forgive me for taking this opportunity to resolve shortcoming."
Nighteye briefly nodded, accepting point for what it was. "Unless you have incurred any injuries to speak of, I would like to see this again. Two minutes this time."
Two minutes became three. And then five. And then eight. After every round, Nighteye would find something to critique, some of which was even valid. Eventually, Togata began to show signs of flagging from exertion, and Nighteye called the match early, clapping to get both of the boys' attention.
"I believe this is quite enough to work with. Togata, Midoriya, you are both dismissed for now. Make sure you are both fully rested for tomorrow."
Once out of the gym, Izuku let out a breath. Sir Nighteye was intense. He half-expected an interrogation the moment they were in his office, but instead, he had danced around the issue, probing things in such a fashion that made it clear that while he suspected him, he had no evidence by which to level accusations.
Togata led Izuku to the dormitory end of the agency, and then let him shower and settle in, which he graciously accepted and whipped through before crashing in the lounge with a notebook on his lap.
It was a game of information now. Nothing of substance had been exchanged thus far, but it did clarify a couple of things. One, Nighteye had prior involvement or had otherwise encountered All for One. And two, Nighteye suspected Izuku on account of his ties to All for One, and would be trying to prove something with this experience.
He could play it cool. He had been dancing on that line for several years now, so unless Nighteye flat out accused him of the fact, Izuku would maintain the façade of innocence. A man as intelligent as him would either get incredibly frustrated, or realize that he needed to dig deeper to get the answers he sought.
"Sorry about that," said Togata, breaking Izuku from his analysis. "Sir isn't usually so harsh with students, especially first-years."
Seeing the face his upperclassmen was making, Izuku changed the subject. "So how does your Quirk work? If you don't mind my asking."
If Togata saw through the blatant misdirection, he didn't call Izuku out on it. "It's called Permeation. As you probably already guessed, I move through matter when it's active; solid, liquids, even light. Makes it kind of difficult to use without public indecency if I don't have the right clothes."
"…Wait, wait, wait. Light?"
"Yeah. I'm in complete darkness when I use my Quirk. At least as far as my head."
"So you can use it in parts rather than just a complete on-and-off setting. Interesting. I'm guessing you're displacing in some way, otherwise you'd turn invisible the moment your Quirk activated, and that'd be a huge tipoff to anyone watching. You're still visible while you're phasing, so what we're seeing is you leaving an afterimage that functions as an XYZ coordinate marker for the rest of you to snap back to when your Quirk releases. No gradient either, otherwise you'd have to deal with friction and resistance. You have to handle the practice of activating and deactivating different portions of your body, sometimes in mid-swing." Izuku paused in his notes. "Wow. I was seriously underestimating the number of steps involved, and I've probably been talking too much.
"You're fine, and Sir said pretty much the same thing when he first took me on as his personal student." Togata leaned against the locker, satisfaction rolling off of him. "Like I told you before, he helped make me what I am today." He then frowned and added, "That's why I don't understand why he's being so harsh with you."
"I signed on knowing this was a possibility. I can't expect him to wrap me in wool and baby me."
"You're still a kid, though. A student. There's supposed to be some kind of care given in such an exchange."
Izuku snapped his notebook shut. "We'll see how things are tomorrow. If it persists, then we will see if it's actually a problem. Fair?"
"I suppose." Standing up, Togata offered Izuku a hand up. "There's still a few places I should show you, so how about I lead you to the lunch room?"
"Sure!"
[IB]
Nighteye reviewed the footage from the earlier exercise. As expected, there was nothing that stuck out. Save for that nothing stood out. Everything about Izuku Midoriya was all perfectly appropriate, above board, and almost profoundly normal.
Grabbing his phone as it buzzed, Nighteye looked at the screen and saw Gran Torino's name, waiting for him to answer, which he did after reigning in his frustration.
"Sir Nighteye speaking."
"I'm thinking about bringin' my intern around tomorrow. Thought you might be interested in knowin'."
No beating around the bush, as was typical. As much as Nighteye wanted to turn him down flat, he was the one who proposed this operation in the first place, and he did not plan on backing down. Not when All Might's life and legacy were at stake. And there's one thing he can count on: Itsuka Kendo might be one of the few people who could put the pressure on Midoriya without bringing All Might into the investigation, and Toshinori had made it clear what he thought of it. If enough pressure was applied, Midoriya might slip up and show more of his hand and give Nighteye something to work with.
"That is fine. When should I expect you?"
" I'll finish runnin' her through the paces and be there tomorrow evening. Does that work for you?"
"Yes. I'll make arrangements. See you soon."
A/N: Another chapter done and out of the way. As per usual, the moment I sit down and get a proper grasp of where to take the chapter, the word count friggin' explodes and I have to chop the thing in half and move it to the next chapter.
As per usual, questions? Comments? Concerns? Speculation on what's the come? Gratuitous errors due to cramming this into the wee hours of the morning before Thanksgiving? Whatever the case may be, let me know with a PM or review. Constructive criticism is always appreciated.
Happy Thanksgiving for those in the U.S.!
Winterman, out.