Despite the professional quality of his new suit, Mirio still felt like a kid playing dress-up among the other adults of the Shie Hassaikai. After several sessions of testing and trials with the Shie Hassaikai's personal tailor, Mirio had settled upon a black and dark blue-trimmed design with a barely-visible blue "0" emblazoned upon the chest. He had kept the modified helmet designed after his outing with Dabi to Jiro Sound Selections and decided to forgo a cape entirely. Somehow, Mirio felt like he no longer deserved one. The entire thing had been interwoven with strands of his hair, giving it the same permeability as his old, much brighter costume.

Though Mirio was appreciative of the modifications and sleek design of his finally completed anti-hero-suit, there were a few things that bothered him about it. During the ascent to Rizumu's apartment above The Glistening Pearl, he had discovered that the leather material was still a bit too tight in the crotch to be comfortable. Given that the material was skin-tight, it also didn't leave much to the imagination. That alone was almost enough to make him bend toward getting a cape once again as a pitiful distraction, but such a thing was hardly fitting for a member of the Yakuza. There was one other thing that weighed heavily on his mind about the suit as he sat down upon one of the couches in his host's living room, though it had nothing at all to do with the suit itself.

The source of his anxiety stemmed from what was inside of it.

In his front left pocket was his phone, connected to a three-way call. Fortunately, the light of the screen was unable to penetrate the tight leather material, and so no one in the room was aware of his deception. All the same, the idea of what might happen if he was caught caused his stomach to twist into knots. For all the risk involved in the stunt, he had no way of knowing if his contacts listening in could even hear the conversation that was about to begin. It took all of his mental energy to keep from sweating profusely as he focused on Rizumu's words while she handed out glasses of some sort of alcohol to those gathered around the room.

"So," the woman began as she handed out small glasses of an amber liquid, starting with Mirio. "Compress, this is Mirio Togata, though I doubt I need to tell you that. Figured out your callsign yet, honey?"

"…I'm between names," Mirio admitted as he looked over the unfamiliar man. He took a hesitant drink and found the taste of the alcohol to be something unfamiliar and wonderful. "Zero seems too basic and on the nose. I'm thinking about going with Naught, but I don't know just yet."

"That does sound more sophisticated," Rizumu admitted as she passed a glass to the man identified as Mr. Compress.

The driver-turned-assistant was the most "Yakuza" looking man that Mirio had seen in his time with the organization, to the point that he couldn't help but wonder why Overhaul chose such an unusual outfit for himself despite being the resident devotee. Mr. Compress wore a white mask with a black pattern upon it resembling the sun over his entire face. His dark hair was shaggy and unkempt, poking out in spikes and swirls above the mask and giving off a stark contrast to the rest of his professional-looking outfit. The man wore a cranberry dress shirt and black suit vest with matching slacks and white and black leather shoes. Mirio couldn't help but raise a brow as the lower section of Mr. Compress' mask retracted to either side with a mechanical whir, revealing his lips and allowing him to take a drink of his alcohol.

"It does indeed," the man cooed. "Mirio Togata. I wouldn't have believed it had I not been able to see it myself. You're the reason I'm not just waiting outside in the van, you know. I needed to get a good look."

"Well, you've got it," Overhaul snapped. "Now get back in the van and play your role instead of meddling in our affairs."

"Oh, but I do so love meddling," Mr. Compress said with a smirk before taking another sip of his drink. "And the only thing I love more than meddling is a good trick. I want to see what Togata is capable of firsthand, and so, I convinced Arowana that you need me on this outing. It's a little late to change his mind, Kai."

Mirio's throat tightened involuntarily as the name was said. The tension in the room escalated exponentially, and though he couldn't see Overhual's face behind the curved mask, he had a decent guess as to the man's expression as he spoke in a venomous tone.

"Don't you ever call me that again," Overhaul threatened. "Especially not in front of the new blood."

"And why not?" Mr. Compress asked as he crossed his feet atop the coffee table. "After all, we're all friends here, are we not?"

"Don't push it," Rizumu warned. "We've got enough shit to deal with without you stirring it intentionally."

"Yes, yes," Mr. Compress teased. "Now, give us the details. What exactly are we up against, and what's our objective? Inquiring minds want to know."

"Hold that thought," Mirio interrupted as he stood up. "Do you mind if I use your bathroom? I'm feeling a bit… nervous."

Mirio was surprised by the sympathetic look her received from Rizumu, especially in contrast to the one he got from Overhaul. The woman nodded toward a nearby hallway, seemingly unbothered by the delay.

"Of course. You remember where it is, right?"

"Yeah," Mirio announced. "Sorry. I'll be quick."

Mirio left the room without another word. He didn't look back as he made his way down the short hallway and into the bathroom, locking it behind himself. After double-checking the door, he pulled his phone out of his pocket. Just to be sure, he turned on the faucet before stepping into the shower, pulling the curtains, and facing the wall as he spoke in a low whisper.

"…are you guys getting all this? I need to be sure before we get into it."

"Signal's coming through fine," Rumi Usagiyama's voice answered from the other end of the line. "Man the fuck up. Don't even tell me you're getting cold feet."

"Sorry!" Mirio replied through clenched teeth. "I just… if this goes wrong, we're so screwed. I can't exactly start texting you guys on the way there without raising suspicion."

"We'll be fine," Taishiro Toyomitsu added. "Heard everything so far. We're already parked about a quarter mile from the cannery with eyes on the place, and I'll get into position as soon as you leave. Just need the signal."

"Togata," another, far softer voice interjected. The familiar tone caused Mirio to close his eyes as though he was trying to hide from it. "If you really do not feel comfortable with this…"

"Tamaki…" Mirio began, unsure of what exactly to say. "I mean… do you? You're the one that's really going to be in danger…"

"I know," Tamaki answered. "But this may be our only chance to believably get me involved. We can only do that if you play your part, too. You're still our leader."

"…yeah," Mirio answered uncertainly. "Yeah, I guess I am. Still, this all feels so wrong…"

"Yeah, that happens sometimes," Keigo Takami admitted. "But you've gotta keep your eyes on the road, kid. Accidents happen as soon as you let yourself slip."

"Alright. Sorry. I don't know why I'm suddenly feeling like this now. Do you think… do you think he'd be okay with this? With what we're about to do?"

"If it gets us where we need to be? Absolutely," Taishiro reassured. "I know what you're probably thinking, but just… get it done, Togata. It's gotta happen sooner or later. I'd offer it up now, to earn their trust back. They're definitely suspicious of you right now."

"Got it. I'll… see you guys tonight," Mirio replied before stuffing his phone back into his pocket.

With a weary sigh, Mirio stepped out of the shower and braced his hands on either side of the sink to take a good look at himself in the mirror. There were unfamiliar bags under his eyes and a pale, ashen quality to his skin tone. It didn't take long for Mirio to look away, turn off the faucet, and flush the toilet before heading back into the living room with a poker face on.

"…not doing so well. I don't know how I feel about those two getting…" Rizumu trailed off as Mirio reentered the room, her hushed tone switching to one far more welcoming and caring. "Hey, feeling any better?"

"…no," Mirio admitted as he sat down heavily next to Overhaul. "No, I'm not. I've actually felt sick all morning. There's… something I think you guys need to know, before we do this."

"Does it have anything to do with the mission?" Overhaul asked icily. "Because if it doesn't…"

"Let him talk," Rizumu insisted, shooting her colleague a glare. "What's up?"

Mirio took a sobering breath. After a moment of contemplation, he chose a coaster upon the coffee table to stare at as he spoke. He didn't have to play up the anger and sorrow that came through in his tone- it was entirely natural.

"…Sir Nighteye was murdered," Mirio said slowly. "By the Nue. It… happened a few days ago, and it's being kept under wraps. Only a privileged few in hero society know right now, and… I only know because he was my mentor. This all probably means nothing to you, but even distancing myself from them and starting down this path with the Shie Hassaikai… it still hurts. It hurts a lot. He was a good man."

"He was," Rizumu confirmed as she placed a hand upon Mirio's knee. "We don't hate heroes, Togata. Or at least, most of us don't. We're on opposite sides most of the time, but it's not like we don't understand what the good heroes have done for society. Besides… we wouldn't wish death upon people we barely know."

"Yes, we would," Overhaul denied as he stood up from the couch. He walked a few steps forward, keeping his back to the others before he turned with a cold, calculating look at Mirio. "I'm… sorry for your loss, Togata, but all I have to say is… use that. Your anger and resentment. Channel it tonight, as we make our way into Nue territory. None of us will stop you from tearing them apart, so long as it doesn't compromise the overall mission."

It was something that Mirio both wanted to hear and had dreaded hearing. The thought of being given permission to take out his anger on those who had played a part in taking away his mentor filled him with a sickly satisfying shiver unlike any he had ever felt before. Everything about his training as a hero told him not to indulge the impulse, and yet, he could feel the temptation winning before he even laid eyes on the Nue.

"…I don't know," Mirio said. "I don't know if I can."

"You can," Mr. Compress jumped in, his expression hidden entirely behind the mask. "Everyone has their limits, Togata. What better way to honor your mentor than by getting even? I'm sure all of your professors would say otherwise, but… what do they know about satisfaction? Here we are, sitting above one of the happiest places in Japan while they're all squirreled away brooding in offices. Once we get out there, we'll show the Nue a thing or two about how the Shie Hassaikai takes care of its own."

"We will," Rizumu confirmed as she picked up her glass. "And if you can't bring yourself to enact some vengeance… the three of us will have no problem getting it done for you."

"…killing comes that easily for you?" Mirio asked, eyeing the woman with trepidation.

"When it's for the right reasons," Rizumu explained. "Trusting us enough to tell us this says a lot, Togata. We'll be looking out for you while on assignment- Overhaul included, in his own way." Rizumu smirked as the man rolled his eyes, though he didn't deny the notion as he picked up his glass once again. As if on cue, Rizumu raised hers over the center of the table. "We've got your back, honey. To Sir Nighteye."

Mirio was stunned as Overhaul brought his glass forward, and unsure how to feel as Mr. Compress joined in on the motion. His own hand shook horribly as he moved his glass to gently clink against the others before taking a drink.

Something about the alcohol had changed- it tasted horrible enough that Mirio almost wanted to spit it out.

Author's Note:

This should go well for everyone involved.

-RD