Chapter 32: Midoriya Izuku XXVIII

A/N: Forgot to mark it as so (it's a retroactive change now), but the last chapter was the end of the Escalation arc. Now comes the next one, and we're back to Izuku (and friend). Enjoy…

[Arc Four: Fellowship]

Ringing. A constant buzz ever present in his ear. Most would find the presence anathema, a burden that rules one's day to day existence. But to Izuku it's a novel experience, allowing his tinnitus to run amok unhindered.

Ever since he had gained proficient skill with his quirk, Izuku had found himself growing into an intimate relationship with the concept of sound. Everything audible, from the movements of an insect to the sounds of whirling jet engines, all under the palm of his hand. He could morph the sounds, cease their entire being, and use them to his own desires.

But his tinnitus is something that he can't control, a force that holds sways and absolute power over his being. Sure, he could cancel the ringing out with white noise originating from his quirk; he had been doing it since he was a kid up until recently. But that method keeps a strain up on his abilities; a constant drain on resources that could be utilized elsewhere. It's the reason he relies on the equipment Giran had given him, and uses the handicap to ensure his capabilities are used to their fullest.

Though, no matter how much of a hindrance his condition is to him, it's not exactly something that he would wish away. Not when it acts as a reminder of his past — of the scared, naive boy he once was. It's a driving force, an element that speaks that he must succeed, lest his injuries and scars be for nothing but the woes of a useless and neglected child that couldn't grow out of his childish hatred of the world. (Plus, he doesn't really mind having it, considering Bakugou had received his just dues for his sins the day of the slime villain attack).

Of course, that isn't to say that Izuku takes his condition for naught. He understands that his unique view of the world has… tainted the real horrors that tinnitus holds for him. That in truth for many tinnitus is a constant, unpleasant, and unrelenting specter bearing ill-will. He wouldn't wish it upon anyone without his own ways to deal with it. It could be considered a punishment… perhaps one in advance given to him for what he would eventually have to do.

He could only imagine how he would be dealing with it if he hadn't had a quirk that deals directly with sound. Or perhaps even worse, if he had been quirkless. There's no telling just how much harsher Bakugou would've been if that had been the case.

A slight rustling sound spurs Izuku from his thoughts. He looks behind him, down and across to the unconscious body on the ground. It had been a pain moving the man from the office space a few blocks away to the rooftop they are currently on. Izuku bit the bullet in the end, and relented to procuring the help of Kurogiri for the transport. Izuku couldn't exactly find a better way of sneaking onto the highest point of the active construction site of what used to be Aldera Junior High.

And had that been a surprise. Somehow the fact of the school being bought out and all of its staff being fired (and blacklisted from acquiring teaching jobs ever again) had remained out of the news. The information had been so removed from the public eye that it took Izuku walking by the place himself to find out that Aldera had been demolished and that a new school was being built in its place.

Though, what really piqued his interest on the whole situation was the fact that a whole new school was being built atop the rubble of another. To him the act just seemed… impractical. And unnecessarily expensive. So he delved in to learn all he could about how the place that had helped morph him to the individual he is today turned out as it currently is.

The investigation was short-lived however. Nezu — because of course the rat had a hand in this — had left a glaringly obvious trail, both in digital and paper format, to follow to its source. Izuku can't quite see what angle Nezu's playing at, but he knows that it can't be anything good. At the least, he sees it as a message. Why else would the school's deciding fate be finalized the exact day after he had been found out at Yuuei? It just gave him more reason to keep a wary distance from the man (animal? creature?) that he sees as the third most dangerous individual in his life, just shy of Sensei and the Doctor.

That aside — because Izuku could only hope to decipher the inner machinations of Nezu's mind — Izuku did give credit to the man for stalking out injustice where it stood. The feeling that all those teachers of his had been properly punished, that future students wouldn't have to lay witness to their crimes… It made Izuku a bit giddy inside.

Which brought him to taking up this whole convoluted process of interrogation. All to make an impression on his captive. And to instill a sense of symbolism that placates his mind. Not one of Izuku's finer moments, he can admit to himself, but he likes the way it makes him feel — some tingly excitement that he can't exactly describe.

Oh well. Something to think about later. For now…

With a sigh, Izuku partially pulls his mask back, revealing his ears to the open air. He places his white noise generators back into their slots, their placement taking away the buzzing fuzz that had been hampering his senses. It doesn't disappear completely of course; if Izuku tries hard enough the sound will be as clear as ever. But with the machines in the noise isn't in his way. But that's not a thought for the here and now.

Izuku stands up, stretching a bit to get rid of any kinks his twenty minute stint of sitting on the edge of a building might have given him. He then puts up his usual space of negated sound, encapsulating the rooftop in silence. And then he places himself a few meters away from the man, standing imposingly above him. And he waits.

A minute passes by before the man finally spurs from his forceful nap. His eyes blink open first; once, twice. And then they widen, and he shoots up from his position on the ground. His rise must be too quick for him to handle (or maybe it's the punch Izuku had inflicted upon him just shy of an hour ago), because he moves to clutch at his head in pain once he settles.

Izuku doesn't give him time to process his situation. And so speaks the voice of hundreds.

"Ah. Finally awake, are you? Must have been a surprise, since your whole operation was supposed to be on the down low, right? Walked right into that nasty ambush of mine; I can tell you now that your buddies didn't fare well, neither did the client."

Izuku takes a small step forward towards the man. "In fact, they're all in police custody now; I can hear their cries of anguish and anger from here. Question is, will you join them? Or will you worm your way out to breathe the air of freedom once more? It's all up to you, my friend."

When the first words had begun to surround the man, he had jumped. And then he let out a cry as his eyes found their way to the form of Whisper not too far from him. He backed away, pulling himself backwards. Then his hands went up to his ears, noticing the complete and utter silence of the world around him. And yet despite all of his panic, every single word uttered by Izuku is understood.

Izuku can see it in the man's eyes that he understands exactly how screwed he is… Unless he says the right words, that is.

"Wh—what…" The man takes a breath. He shakes his head, and metaphorical steel comes to his eyes. "What do you want from me?"

Hmph. Seems he still has a little backbone left in him… What to do, what to do…

Izuku crosses his arms, tilting his head slightly forward. "Use that brain of yours. What do you think I want from you?"

The man shivers when the word 'think' comes out. Izuku finds it a valid reaction to having the word vibrate within his very being, his bones acting as a medium for their audible upbringing.

The man growls afterwards though, attempting to hide his unease. It doesn't work on Izuku, not when he can sense every little movement the man makes. The sense of fear is palpable. "And why should I play your games, huh?" he yells out, fist tightening not in resolve, but in terror.

Hmm. I can use this.

Izuku lets out a small chuckle — a chuckle of a hundred voices, child and elderly alike, all weaving back and forth and across the small space surrounding the man. This results in a visible gulp from the man.

"Don't you see that you are out of your depth here? In fact… How does it feel to be useless, hmm? I'm sure that you've struggled with the notion before. After all, a quirk reliant on others to work? Sure, it's very potent in its use of empowering others, but alone? You've been forced to join others in order to remain relevant. But what's this? Instead of any reputable hero teams or such, you join the yakuza. And such a decision has brought you here. Think now: are you happy with where your actions and decisions have brought you? Cowering at my feet?"

"Your feet my ass!" The man rises to his own feet and charges towards Izuku, fists raised. It's a sloppy and slow attack, one that Izuku has plenty of time to react to. He decides to get a little creative with his resources.

"Kurogiri," Izuku says directly into his phone that remains on within his belt, the words inaudible to the charging man. "One entrance portal in front of me please. And let's place the exit portal… five meters behind me exactly, facing towards me, and thirty meters up. Keep them open until I say so."

The man charges forward blindly, and his rage-filled charge prevents him from stopping before the swirl of black mist that suddenly springs up in front of him. He stumbles through the mist, and suddenly he finds the floor beneath his feet missing.

Once his eyes adjust, the dangling nature of his feet come into focus as he sees the ground, but nearly ten stories below. The only thing preventing him from falling and splattering into paste onto the ground is the tight grip around the neck of his shirt.

"Holy fuck!"

"Hmm. Indeed. Quite the height and quite the view, hmm? I wonder how it'll feel if I… relax one of my fingers, hmm?"

Izuku lets one of his fingers do as he says, and the man leans forward just a bit.

"Whoa whoa whoa! Now hold on for a second here! I'll talk! I'll talk! I promise!"

Truth.

Izuku smirks. "Alright. But you better not lie. I will be able to tell when you do. One false word out of you, and…"

Izuku lets loose another finger, and the man jerks forward, closer to his doom.

"I've got it! I've got it! Just let me up!"

And just like that, the man is yanked backwards and back onto the cold, hard floor of the rooftop.

"Talk." The words once more reverberate through the man. "Do say and you're free to go. Lie, and you'll find yourself careening towards the ground. Your choice which you'll receive."

The man nods his head fervently. "You're looking for my bosses right? Typing to figure out where all the trigger we sell is coming from?"

Izuku nods. "Do go on."

"Right." The man gulps. "Well… um… you see…"

"Having second thoughts? Not good. Unless you want another bird's eye view, perhaps?"

"No!" The man waves his hands in front of him. "You see… I don't… know who they really are."

Truth

…Really? He may be a grunt, but he's one heavily entrenched into the operation. His quirk is just too valuable to neglect off to the side. It'd be impossible for him not to have seen the inner circle at one point… There has to be more to it.

"I find that incredibly hard to believe," Izuku says. "Explain. In a way that doesn't implicitly hide all the facts."

A bead of sweat falls down the side of the man's neck.

Gotcha.

The man sighs. "Okay… I've… only seen one of them up close. Thin dude, big hat, grey rubber boots, and a black cloak-cape thing. But his mask… it was like one of those plague doctor ones. You know? From back during the black disease or whatever in France."

Truth.

"Black Death," the voices correct. "And all over Europe and a little beyond its borders, actually."

"Right. That. And he likes waving around this gun he has. Some sort of pistol."

Truth.

And helpful. Guns are still a rarity in the country after all.

Izuku tilts his head. "And this individual's name?

"Uh… Nemoto I think." He cringes. "That's all I ever heard my bosses calling him at least! I swear!"

Truth.

"Hmm. One last question then, and you're free to go. Where are the main operations held?"

"Somewhere in Aichi. That's the best I can guess; not exactly like we were explicitly told whenever the driver brought us from one place to another."

Truth.

And so the main base of operations is relatively close…

"Well well well." Izuku nods, placing his hands behind his back. "Seems that you've been a truthful little devil during our rooftop rendezvous. I appreciate you for not making this harder than needs be, and I must congratulate you on your candor; it speaks well of your survival instincts."

The man blinks, waiting a few seconds before speaking up. "Does that… Does that mean that I'm free to go?"

"I am an individual of my word. So yes." A pause. "Though… I do suggest that you watch your back from now on. I'm sure that all of your yakuza friends are going to be questioning your whereabouts after tonight. It doesn't exactly look good to be the lone escapee of a raid centered onto such a vital operation, after all. Makes some of the higher ups twitchy with suspicion, you know?"

The man doesn't say another word. He simply springs up to his feet, runs towards the roof entrance, and leaves.

So swift is his escape that he entirely misses the other individual present, standing silent and still in the shadows of the roof. Most would find the sight of the individual imposing; a gas mask wearing figure wielding a handgun out in the middle of the night would be a valid reason to start panicking, after all.

Though, whatever imposing presence extruded by the individual — or boy, rather — ceases in its entirety as Nakajima Ayumu (or as the boy had begun to call himself in costume, 'Mustard') breaks out in an excited spiel.

"I can't believe it!" Mustard exclaims, shooting his hands up in the air. "You were awesome! And you barely did anything! Just talked and posed and did a little dodging, and you made him into a scared mess! An interrogation held by the illusive Whisper… I can't believe that I'm actually a part of this! I… I feel like I'm dreaming."

"Don't get too excited about it," Izuku says, using his own voice. "This isn't some game where the consequences of your actions are far removed from affecting you. You aren't reading these events from some secondhand source online; you're a part of them. You need to consider that the things that you do as a part of the League from this point on will have long reaching effects."

Mustard clears his throat, nodding his head as he absorbs Izuku's words. "Of course, Whisper! I apologize for that!" He dips into a deep bow. "I promise that I'll do better from this point on."

Izuku lets out a barely concealed sigh. "Second thing: drop the fanboying. If you want me to bring you out to something like this again you need to learn some professionalism. And that means you not fawning after my every action. You can't perceive me as some impervious and perfect idol, because I'm not. Doing so will negatively affect your growth. Trust me on that."

Mustard straightens up and nods. "Of course, Whisper! I'll… umm. I'll do that?"

"Better," Izuku admits. "You'll get there in time. I'm not asking you to change yourself; just to change how you act while in costume. So don't strain yourself too much, okay?"

Mustard nods.

"Good. Now that that's over with… Your performance tonight."

At that, Mustard grows eerily still. He straightens his back once more and focuses all his attention on Izuku.

Izuku clears his throat. "First off, I must applaud you for the way you carried out our initial ambush against this group of drug dealers. You did as you were told quickly and efficiently, making sure your quirk got into the airways of the building as smoothly as possible. As planned, most went to sleep before they could notice what was happening. All in all, full marks. But this time it was a non-combat scenario; I have yet to see how you'll act in combat. That'll be another test when the time calls for it."

"Umm… That means that I'm doing good so far, right?"

Izuku nods. "You skillfully displayed your capabilities and those of your quirk; you're quite advanced for someone your age."

"Whoa now, hold on," Mustard cuts in. "No way we aren't the same age."

"You say that with such a sense of certainty. All despite not even knowing my name or face."

"Come on! I can sense it in my gut! Admit that I'm right! I can feel that bond!"

Izuku sighs. Audibly. "Well, you'd be wrong. I am a year older than you," Izuku admits.

Mustard gasps. "Whisper-senpai—"

"Don't."

Mustard shuts himself up.

"Now," Izuku continues, "Let's move along to the next thing: your observation of my interrogation. I trust you took notes?"

"Mental ones, yes," Mustard says, tapping his head. "Your every word has been ingrained into my mind."

"Right… Well, I can say that after what I've seen of you so far, I'm actually very impressed with how well you held yourself together during that whole thing. I almost forgot you were there with how enraptured and quiet you were."

"Oh please. Surely you're exaggerating. I mean, with your quirk—"

"Not the point."

"Of course! Of course!" Mustard clears his throat. "So… does that mean I passed?"

Izuku hums in thought for a bit before responding. "For now."

"Whoo!" Mustard cheers, shooting an arim into the air. "Yes! I've been accepted as a pupil by the one and only Whisper!" He jerks his gaze over to Izuku. "Does this mean that I get to know your real name and face now?"

"No."

"Alright! We'll get there eventually!"

"I'm sure that we will," Izuku concedes with a sigh. "Now… Any questions before I have Kurogiri deposit us back to base?

"Oh!" Mustard calms himself down. "Yeah, actually. About that interrogation just a bit ago…"

"Hmm?"

"What about drug routes? Locations of their processing centers? Other members of their organization. Wouldn't it have been a good time to gather info like that."

Izuku shrugs at that. "It would have — if everything you mentioned wasn't all information that I've already gathered. All that's left really are the who's and where's of the heads of the operation — and we're currently building up to that."

"Hmm. Okay, question two then. Why'd you let him go?"

Izuku tilts his head at that. "That yakuza grunt, you mean?"

Mustard nods his head.

"Hmm," Izuku hums. "How about this; you tell me first why you think I shouldn't have. That's what spurned this thought, correct?'

"Well… yeah," Mustard admits. "I mean, his quirk is pretty useful, right? Quirk empowerment? Not many of its kind. It could be useful for those monster things you have. Nomu, right?"

"Yes on both accounts."

"Then why not—"

"That's not all there is to consider though," Izuku interrupts. "Truth be told, despite the 'us versus them' mentality that I'm sure you've adapted over the years with your experiences, the world isn't so clear cut. That man may have been against us today, but that doesn't change the fact that he's just another lost soul like you and I; someone looking for their place in the world and struggling to fit in. He isn't some crazed psychopath or some irredeemable killer — he's just someone trying to survive. He doesn't deserve to go through the harsh process that involves Nomu."

Mustard hums in thought. "So you don't fault him for his decisions or his role in being an obstacle to your cause, since he isn't actively working against you," he muses. "Just like how you try your best to keep civilians out of things; the only ones you're willing to target are the true contributors to the unjust society that we live in… right?"

"You've got the general gist of it down," Izuku praises.

"Guess that answers my other question then," Mustard mutters.

"Oh?" Izuku perks at that. "And what was that?"

Mustard shrugs. "I was just going to ask you why we were targeting drug rings in the first place. I mean, they're villains like us and all, but…"

"But?" Izuku asks. "Do go on. I'd like to hear your thought process on the subject matter; make sure we're riding the same wavelengths."

Mustard nods, and begins. "I guess that you can say that a lot of us… people like you and me, that is, are sort of… the disenfranchised. We live like we do because the social norms force us into a corner and make us choose between resignation or making our own choices."

Mustard hums. "I guess that what I'm trying to say is that… Some people aren't so bad. That's why you don't go after every single individual who threatens your goals. Like, the yakuza has all sorts of members, but I guess some of them aren't actually bad? The ones you'd go after would be the leaders, since they're the ones taking advantage of others… Aha! Making people's misfortune into their fortune!"

Izuku nods. "A nice angle for you to look at things. Look at you, just on your first outing and already you're learning."

"You really think so?"

"Yeah…" Izuku trails off, staring at Mustard in silence.

After a few moments, Mustard speaks up. "Umm—"

But Izuku interrupts.

"Are you sure that you really want to go down this path? Now, before you butt in, look at it this way: you have no criminal record, no previous run-ins with the law. You aren't even publicly associated with the likes of Tomura and I yet. You can still back out if you want."

Mustard's disbelief is prevalent despite the lack of facial cues; his bodily reactions are telling enough. "Would you honestly back out if I asked the same as you, and our roles were reversed?"

"You and I are different, Mustard. We may share similar traumas, but… There's just such a large gap in experiences. You only started to express your hatred for the downhill progress of society a mere two years ago with that blog of yours. I had a whole vault of pent up rage stemming from abuse and neglect since I was what you could consider a toddler."

"And you at least were safe at school," Izuku continues. "You experienced some minor bullying for having a quirk that you weren't immune to. But you were mostly left alone aside from that; you weren't at the bottom of the totem pole. And let me tell you, the bottom of the food chain is absolute hell."

Izuku reaches over, placing his hand on Mustard's shoulder. "You don't need to do this. This burden that you're taking upon yourself is a heavy one. You'll experience pain, regret. Sadness and anger. It's not a road for the faint of heart or a newcomer like you. You can toughen up of course, I'm not saying that you can't. But do you really wish to face all those traumas in order to do so? Are you ready to fight for what you desire; to go all the way, risking your ideals and morals?"

Mustard looks over to the hand on his shoulder, and then back to Izuku's masked face. "You can't honestly expect me to back out now, can you? Besides, with you to guide me? I'm sure that I'll do alright."

Izuku lets out a sigh. "If that's your decision, then so be it. I'll try to live up to your expectations, Mustard."

And I'll do what I can to take the brunt of what comes our way. I've already endured enough pain. I can handle it; I have to.

A/N: And there we have it! Some bonding time between Whisper and Mustard here (Izuku and Ayumu bonding time comes later). And if the arc title wasn't enough of a hint, well… Let's just say that chapters like this won't be a rarity for a bit. Stay tuned…