Chapter 37
After a brief conversation, held mostly with hand gestures, Izuku and Aizawa split apart. Aizawa would continue with their patrol, making sure to be a little more visible than usual, while Izuku would head over to the safehouse to look it over. It was a nondescript building, just another house on a street filled with residential houses, and Izuku crouched on the rooftop opposite and watched.
There were, Izuku thought, two ways they could approach this. He could swing down to the street and walk right up to the safehouse, making it clear that he'd followed Takeru but pretending that he wasn't suspicious and just wanted to talk further. Nothing was impossible, but Izuku couldn't really see that working. Two, he could try and sneak in through one of the windows and have a look around, see if he could find anything incriminating. That might be more possible, would likely be more possible, but if he was caught then his cover would be blown and Red Hood would be marked as an enemy by Humarise.
Or, he supposed, he could turn around and leave and come back another night. Three ways they could approach it, technically. But perhaps it would be better to strike while the iron was hot. Izuku reached up to his helmet, flicking through vision modes to thermal. It wasn't perfect, since anything heated in the house would interrupt it, but it let him get a slightly better view. Nothing very interesting, so he switched back to regular view and zeroed in on the windows.
"The windows are trapped," he said, "Definitely trapped. Probably alarms, but maybe something nastier."
He was a little far away to be just looking and his helmet didn't have a zoom feature, but he was fairly sure that he could see a tripwire. An alarm, sure, but it could also have any number of other unpleasant effects. An infiltration would be difficult to pull off without preparation, he thought.
"Midoriya," Aizawa said, "Don't."
"I can make it in, sir. There could be anything in there."
"And there could be nothing. Call it off, Midoriya, we can come back another day."
Aizawa spoke deliberately loudly on that one, loudly enough that the bug might pick up his voice, and Izuku paused. Part of him wanted to ignore Aizawa and go in anyway, but the fact that Aizawa argued made him think again. Aizawa couldn't be accused of being overcautious, so maybe he had a point. There was no need to play their hand so early, especially as they already had a bug on Takeru.
"Understood, sir," Izuku said, retreating from the edge of the roof. It was easy to drop back into the night. It wasn't so easy to leave the opportunity behind, but Izuku managed it. There would be other days, after all.
It seemed like a waste of a night to just go home, though. It would be suspicious, too, given the bug he'd kept on him, so he rejoined Aizawa on their patrol route. It was quiet, quieter than it had been previously, and it made Izuku's bones itch. The Trigger incidents had been steadily rising over the past days and weeks, so why would it stop now? Izuku didn't want to ascribe everything to a conspiracy, but it seemed more and more likely.
Izuku still didn't know who was behind the Trigger incidents, but he was starting to suspect that it wasn't just one person. Takeru was the key: a single person, acting as a go-between for the MLA, Humarise and All For One? But how much did they know, and how much did Takeru know? And, more importantly, why would he tell that story to try and lure Izuku to All For One? Izuku didn't like any of this.
Neither Aizawa nor Nedzu did, either. Once they were all back at UA, with the second bug stashed in a carefully constructed box that would, according to Nedzu, simulate appropriate noises for something that was still stuck to a Hero costume, Izuku started pacing.
"It's probably a trap," he said, "It has to be. Unless whoever's setting the trap is stupider than we thought."
"More overconfident, rather than stupid," Nedzu corrected, "I see the allure of bringing you onto his side. You've proven quite a thorn in numerous sides. But yes, it's almost certainly a trap. And from his perspective, why not? If you don't take the bait, he loses nothing. If you do, he gets you as an asset. And maybe, if he's very lucky, he draws in All Might."
Nedzu paused.
"You should speak with All Might, Midoriya. It may soften the blow to come from you."
Izuku genuinely wasn't sure if Nedzu was hinting that he should tell All Might about Jason. He didn't think so, at least, because what use would it really be other than reassurance that he did probably know what he was doing. Unless Nedzu was trying to hint that maybe Izuku should change his mind on the whole All Might successor thing? Hopefully not. Izuku remained convinced that he'd be terrible at it. He just wasn't good role model material.
"I think, in this case, it would be better not to take the bait," Nedzu said, "Tempting as it would be to try and lure this Giving Man in turn, the risk is too great."
"Greater than all the other risks Midoriya takes?" Aizawa said, although Izuku got the impression that he didn't really disagree. Nedzu simply nodded.
"Well, yes. If for no other reason that I am far less certain of All Might being able to perform a rescue in the event that something goes wrong."
Aizawa looked at them both, his eyes bloodshot even through the shadows cast by his bangs.
"You know something," he said, "Both of you."
"We do," Nedzu acknowledged, unruffled, "But it is All Might's story to tell, not ours. I'm sure if you ask, however, he will tell you."
Aizawa's eyes narrowed.
"All Might is injured," he said, "Nearly fatally, years ago. This League of Villains starts up, clearly with backing if the Nomu is any sign. There's someone luring in Midoriya, who you're afraid All Might couldn't defeat in time. But you aren't going to give me the full story until All Might gives you permission?"
"I'm afraid not," Nedzu said, "Trust, after all, is key in maintaining positive relations between Heroes!"
Both Izuku and Aizawa gave Nedzu a flat look, because whatever his good points being trusting wasn't one of them. Nedzu just beamed at them, clearly too pleased with himself to be affected.
"Fine," Aizawa said, "I'll ask All Might. And once he's told me, if there's anything I should have known before…"
"Threats hardly become you, Aizawa," Nedzu said brightly, "I have taken all the necessary precautions, I assure you. Mr Midoriya has not been in danger from any secret that I have kept."
God damn specific wording. Izuku didn't think he'd been in danger from any secret he'd kept, either, but if Nedzu kept talking like then Aizawa might get suspicious, and if he did Izuku wasn't sure how long he could hide the whole Jason thing.
Part of him wanted to just admit it, to just come out and tell Aizawa. At least then he would know what Aizawa would think, and no longer be subjected to the gnawing uncertainty of when it would be revealed, and what the reaction would be. He didn't think Aizawa would react poorly, not really, but that was the thing about paranoia. It didn't yield to reason and logic.
Aizawa glanced at Izuku, as though he was judging what Nedzu had said, but in the end he just grunted and looked away again.
"I'll keep that in mind," he said, "Midoriya, you needed to talk to All Might? He should still be in the staff lounge, finishing his lesson planning. Tell him I want a word afterwards."
Well, being used as a messenger wasn't the worst thing to happen to Izuku, even if it was a very blunt way of getting him out of the way.
It didn't take Izuku long to find the staff lounge. All Might was the only one in there, sat hunched over in his smaller form with a stack of papers in front of him. Izuku glanced at the clock – late. Too late, really, for someone to still be working. He briefly wondered if All Might had anything to go home to, but he smothered the thought before it could get going. He already knew the answer. Izuku knocked on the door frame, waiting until All Might looked up and invited him in.
"Young Midoriya," All Might said, a gaunt but welcoming smile lighting his features, "What brings you here? It's a little late to still be at school, isn't it?"
Izuku looked around the lounge, gauging the likelihood of there being some kind of bug. Low, he decided, low enough.
"I was doing some spy work," he said, "Nedzu and Aizawa thought you should hear about it."
All Might sat straighter in his chair, clasping his hands together.
"Tell me," he said, so Izuku did. By the time he'd recounted it all All Might was frowning, lips pressed tightly together, and Izuku nodded.
"That's sort of how I felt, sir."
All Might was quiet for a minute, obviously thinking, before eventually he spoke again.
"I'm worried about All For One," All Might said, "He's never gone after likely successors before – unless his general recruitment of Quirkless people is an attempt to reduce the possible candidates – but One For All has usually been passed along in very short order. If he's noticed that you've worked with me a couple of times, he might be making assumptions."
Not even wrong assumptions, Izuku grimly thought, because he'd agreed on I-Island that if it came down to it he'd take One For All, at least long enough to keep it away from All For One. All Might looked tired, in a way he rarely did even in his small form.
"I've been thinking about how to proceed," he said, "I've started to think, recently, that All For One might be trying to lure me out. It would work perfectly for him. What better way to announce his return than to defeat the Symbol of Peace on live television?"
"You defeated him before," Izuku said, doing his best to be reassuring, "You can do it again."
If he'd told All Might about Jason, he thought, he could have told him about Superman and Doomsday, made him realise that Izuku's faith wasn't misplaced. But he hadn't, and so he couldn't, and so All Might just gave him a weary smile.
"I did defeat him," he said, "But it cost me all of my strength, and I've no doubt he'll have prepared. If I want to repeat the act, I'll need some kind of edge. And to retire afterwards."
"You should retire anyway, sir," Izuku said, "It's not fair to still put everything on you when you're in this condition."
"Ah," All Might said, "It's still kind of you to say so, but I'm afraid I'll have to say no again. It is my responsibility, I think."
Izuku glanced at him, weighing his sincerity, and found nothing but truthfulness. He just nodded. He wouldn't bring it up again.
"I even wonder," All Might continued, almost conversational, "If maybe David had something of the right idea. Not in execution, but – if anything could give me an edge over All For One, it might be worth exploring. Especially if it is my last fight. That would play well for the camera, wouldn't it? To break the rules, and retire afterwards?"
Or die, Izuku thought, because that was the sort of person All Might was. He shrugged.
"Shame the Quirk Enhancer was destroyed, sir."
"Yes," All Might said quietly, "It is. I…Nedzu mentioned, a few days ago, clinical trials in America. The controlled use of Trigger or Trigger derivatives to enhance Hero powers. It's controversial, of course."
Izuku scraped a foot along the floor, trying to work out how he felt about that. He wasn't, in principle, against the use of performance enhancing drugs. This wasn't a sport, or a game. It was life or death, and if a dose of Venom or Trigger or whatever else meant that the good guys won then hell, it was a sacrifice worth making. The thing he did have an issue with was dependence. It was why Bruce had gotten off Venom after his probably ill-advised experimentation with it. But Trigger – one dose of Trigger, to give All Might one last victory? Izuku wondered if Trigger could be combined with Venom. In theory, maybe. It would be incredibly dangerous, superbly dangerous, but if it was possible…well. When facing someone like All For One, there was no sense in being squeamish. Victory, at all costs.
In theory. There were some lines Izuku knew he wouldn't cross, and many more that other Heroes wouldn't touch. But it was a good line.
And, for the moment, that was all it was. Izuku didn't have access to either Trigger or Venom, and there was no guarantee that All For One would even come out and fight. But it was worth keeping in mind.
"You said that All For One might be reducing the candidates for One For All," Izuku said, thinking back, "Have you learned something more about One For All?"
"Not learned," All Might said, "Not exactly. I've been researching on my off time, but I'm still going off my gut instinct. I think we have to admit that All For One probably knows more about how Quirks work than any other man alive."
Izuku grimaced, but there was no argument to be made.
"Aizawa knows that there's something wrong, though he doesn't know about All For One," he said, "Nedzu said you would tell him."
All Might blinked, his clasped hands finally breaking apart in a broad shrug.
"It makes sense," he said, "There's no harm in telling him. It might be for the best, anyway. He might see something we don't."
All Might paused, a thoughtful expression crossing his face.
"I'm surprised that All For One didn't go after Aizawa, actually. Erasure is very powerful, after all. Maybe All For One didn't care, but assuming your opponent is stupid is a bad way to fight. Maybe he didn't get a chance, or maybe…"
"Maybe?"
"I don't know how All For One – the Quirk – works, exactly. I don't think anyone does, other than All For One himself. But when he fought me, he didn't use every Quirk I might have expected. He mostly came at me with sheer brute force, and most of his Quirks involved using brute force attacks. Similarly, the Nomu were all…themed, I suppose you could say. It makes me wonder if there's something about Quirks that makes some of them incompatible, and Erasure just isn't compatible with the Quirks All For One would want to use."
All Might shrugged.
"Or maybe he was distracted dealing with me, and he hasn't had the chance to kidnap Aizawa since recovering."
"No offence, sir, but I hope it's the first one."
All Might laughed.
"Yes, I do too," he agreed, "Everything is bad enough already, without having to keep Aizawa under guard. I should tell him, then at least he'll know to be on guard."
Trust and revealing secrets, Izuku thought. The thought was still there, that maybe he should give up his own secret, but no. Not yet. He wasn't even really sure why he was keeping it a secret, he just was. Some kind of leftover from the need to maintain a secret identity, maybe, or some lingering fear that they'd treat him differently, look at him differently afterwards. He didn't know.
He could – he could sort it out later. He'd always have more time, he consoled himself.
"I'm sure he'll be glad to have the warning, sir."
"And furious that I didn't tell him earlier?" All Might asked, all dry humour. Izuku shrugged, unable to deny that. Aizawa was a little bit of a control freak, if nowhere near as bad as some people Jason had known, naming no names. Bruce. All Might looked past Izuku, his expression twisted with thought, before he shook his head.
"Thank you for telling me, Young Midoriya," he said, "And be careful. If All For One is looking into you, even if he's not too interested – be careful. That's all I can tell you."
"I'll be careful, sir," Izuku said, and All Might smiled at him.
"I wish I could say the same, my boy, but I must go and face the wrath of Aizawa. And, come to think of it, the approval of the Principal. But I won't keep you any longer – you must be eager to get home?"
Izuku glanced at the clock again, and wondered if his Mom was waiting at home. Probably, he thought, suppressing the pang of guilt with practiced ease. He would make time for her, he promised himself again. The weekend, he would do no heroing, no vigilante work, nothing. Just spend time with his Mom.
"I am, sir," he said, answering All Might after realising he was pausing a little too long, "At least the trains might be quieter at this time of night."
"One can only hope, my boy," All Might said, complete with booming laugh that was so much closer to something out of his larger form than Izuku had expected. Izuku watched, waiting politely as All Might packed up his notes and his pens and headed off, starting towards Nedzu's office. Izuku himself walked the other way, through the quiet corridors, and amused himself by trying to pick out the locations of each camera he passed. There were – there were an awful lot of them, actually. He'd reached thirty by the time he was at the entrance, and many of them looked newly installed. Shigaraki's break-in, presumably, but that still seemed a little excessive. It was something of a relief to be out of the school, onto the dark streets where the wind promised rain, and away from prying eyes. Even if they were friendly.
Izuku made his way along the street, hands tucked into his pockets but ears open for any noise that didn't match. It was just the usual sounds of the night, the blare of car horns and a distant, thumping beat of music and the faint tug of rain-touched wind against his raised hood. Nothing to be afraid of. He pulled one hand out of a pocket, checking the time on his phone, and mentally compared it to the timetable he'd memorised. Close, he thought, and he picked up his pace. There might be nothing to be afraid of, but he still didn't want to be stuck waiting for a train this late at night.
The train was almost entirely empty. Izuku didn't know about the other carriages, but the one he got on only held four people. Two men, sat next to each other near one end and talking in low tones, one woman dressed in business attire who was half-dozing at the other end, and about a third of the way along another woman, sitting hunched over with her fingers clenched tight around each other. Izuku took a seat himself, leaning back with a soft sigh. His uniform was hidden by a thick hoody – not red, although the aesthetic had nearly gotten to him. It was instead a dark navy blue, discreet and concealing, and he left the hood up. It was a chilly night, the wind carrying a bite, and that breeze followed him onto the train.
At least the quiet gave him time to think, the gentle rocking of the train on the tracks a soft counterpoint to the beat of his thoughts. All Might, and All For One, and all the other villains. All the other villains who had powers that Izuku didn't have and couldn't match, except with cleverness and caution.
The temptation to try and even the scales was still there. All Might's talk of Trigger had made Izuku think, and while he couldn't make any use of Trigger unless he miraculously manifested a Quirk that didn't mean he was out of options. He did, after all, still have the recipe for Venom. He'd thought of it before, but now? With things getting more and more dangerous, he was really starting to think that the edge it would give him would be worth it. The juicing, if you liked, would be worth the squeeze.
God that pun made Izuku wince, and he'd been the one to think of it. But back on track.
So, Venom. He'd need three things, really. The ingredients were the most obvious. He wouldn't need too many – Izuku fully intended to create a much, much weaker batch than Bane's preferred brew firstly, because the full strength stuff would either kill him or have side effects bad enough that he'd wish it did – but he would need some. That part probably wouldn't be too hard. He knew the ingredients, and while many of them weren't exactly legal they weren't too illegal. Even in the event he somehow failed to acquire them discreetly he was sure Nedzu would help him get them, purely for the love of the game. One hurdle cleared, or easy to clear.
Secondly, just as importantly, he'd need somewhere to actually make it. He already had some thoughts on that.
On one hand, he could try and make it in secret. He'd need some kind of base somewhere, somewhere at least vaguely safe and secret so that he didn't get found out. Not that he really thought he could hide from Nedzu forever, but Nedzu wasn't his concern. The Principal would probably leave him to it. It was everyone else that Izuku was concerned about.
On the other hand, he could try and make it in UA. He'd have access to the base chemicals he would need, and if he needed more he could order them and slip them into the Support demands. He would have access to equipment to making it, testing it. He would be able to keep track of his own vitals when he tested it, he could run purity tests. If something went wrong, he would have help close at hand.
On the…third? On the third hand, not limiting himself to human anatomy, making any kind of super-steroid in UA was just asking for trouble. Quite apart from the low but still present chance that someone would find it and decide to try it, it probably would be found. And that would just lead to awkward questions like 'why are you experimenting with drugs' and 'why did it drive Aizawa into a berserker fury when he tried it' and 'how did you know how to make this'. So making it in UA was out of the question. A shame about the lack of equipment, but maybe it was time to get back to his roots. Do some good old-fashioned work in a cave, or cave equivalent. Izuku doubted there would be a convenient cave network under the city and, if there was one, it was probably full of All For One's leftovers. He'd had quite enough of Nomu.
So finding somewhere to make it would be harder. Izuku was leaning towards getting his own hideaway, but without the resources that Bruce or even Jason had possessed it wouldn't be easy. Not impossible, but not easy. Maybe he could – maybe he could raid a drug lab or something, brew a batch, blow the place up on the way out to cover his tracks? That would be risky, but better than doing something like making the Venom in his bedroom.
Assuming, of course, that he decided to go down that route. He hadn't before.
The problem with Venom was – well, there were a couple of problems. Most of them didn't happen until you'd been abusing it for months or years, which Izuku would hopefully avoid. More concerningly, Venom was really supposed to be used by people who were in peak physical condition. Izuku wasn't unfit, but he wasn't quite in that good a shape. He'd have to try and dial down the effects, use a weaker version, unless he wanted to be hospitalised in the aftermath. It would reduce the edge he had, but even the weakest versions would probably double his strength. As a plus, the weaker versions wouldn't increase his size, meaning that he wouldn't be tearing out of his clothes like some kind of anime character.
He should still do it, he decided. Not even for himself, because if anything could turn the tide for All Might in battle against One For All he was almost duty bound to pursue it.
The man nearest to Izuku, the one who wasn't a businessman, stirred. He was murmured to himself, one foot tapping and his fingers twitching and shifting. Nervous symptoms, Izuku distantly thought, distractions. An addict? The man's coat was pulled high around his neck, his chin dipped low, but Izuku could just about see small slots on his neck, looking almost plastic. His hands were mostly human, but each index finger looked more like the nozzle of a spray bottle, small triggers on the underside where the middle finger would sit if the man made finger-guns. Some kind of Heteromorph Quirk, probably a weak one. Put fluids in through the neck and spray them from the fingers? But there was something about the neck ports and the finger nozzles, almost like they were inflamed. Like they'd been pushed beyond their normal limits. That might imply…
"Ffffucking junkies," one of the other men said, his voice just a little slurred, "Like animals. Animals, you know? Taking up space, leaving their…their germs everywhere. We should…we should…"
"We should throw him off," said the other man. He wasn't slurring, but his voice had the crisp elocution of a man talking very carefully around the drink. Drunks. And on public transport? For shame. It was a bit of a step down from the issues Izuku usually ended up dealing with, but that was honestly a relief.
"And he's a – a mutie," the first man agreed, "A fuckin squarehead."
The man must have heard the words even through the haze of his addiction, because he shrank into the seat a little more. And Izuku didn't like the way those two were throwing out slurs like it was KKK Day. In fact, wasn't there some jackass variant of the KKK that had something against Heteromorphs? C…C something. Izuku didn't know, there were so many groups of losers around that he didn't have the mental space to fit them all. He doubted the two guys were part of a villain group, they didn't look like they had what it took, but that didn't mean they would leave the poor junkie alone. Izuku should probably leave it alone, but…actually, no. He shouldn't leave it alone.
"If you're going to gossip about him," Izuku said, his voice loud in the carriage when he didn't bother to whisper, "Do it somewhere else. Like the next carriage."
The two men exchanged baffled looks, like they didn't understand what he was saying.
"What was that, little man?" one of them asked, rising to his feet only a little unsteadily. Izuku stood as well, quicker, movement sharp and clean. He took a single step forwards, steady on the moving floor, and looked the man in the eye.
"If you're going to gossip about him," he repeated, very calmly, "Do it somewhere else. Like the next carriage."
Most people, Izuku knew, didn't want to fight. Most people would walk away. The two men turned out to be just like most people and walked away, although they cast sour glances back. Izuku saw one of them make a hand gesture he didn't recognise, though he assumed it was some kind of warning.
"Hey, buddy," Izuku said, crouching slightly in front of the probable addict, "You okay?"
The man didn't look up. He was still shaking, fingers writhing together, and there were faint black lines running up his wrist. Trigger, Izuku diagnosed – the more common side-effect was a black tongue, but blackened veins were still common. Heavy use and Izuku chewed his lip for a moment, wondering what would be best. He could always turn the guy in, but he doubted that going cold turkey on Trigger would be anything pleasant.
The man wasn't paying any attention to Izuku, reaching into an inside pocket of his coat and pulling out an inhaler with a shaking hand. It made some pretence at being medical, with a label pasted on that contained the right chemical name, but it was wonky and too translucent, unable to bear up under a prolonged check. The man held the inhaler in a quivering grip and Izuku recognised the look on his face. The look of a man desperate for his fix, but knowing all to well that he was making a deal with the devil.
Izuku gently eased the inhaler from the man's hand, pulling it away from him lightly enough that he barely seemed to notice. He was really out of it, the withdrawal symptoms hitting like a truck, and his fingers closed convulsively on empty air. Izuku tucked the inhaler into a pocket after a single glance at it.
"Where did you get that?" he asked, very quietly. The addict slumped back in his seat, eyes glazed and feverish and Izuku started to wonder if he should call the hospital. It would be worth making more of a scene to get this guy some help, he thought.
"The," the man slurred, "M friend. At the shelter. Was just…wanted to see what it was. Wanted to be strong, for once."
At the shelter. Izuku gave the man a second look, he hadn't initially thought he was homeless but now, maybe. Well, what other reason would the guy have to be at a shelter? He needed to know which shelter, though, before anything else.
"Hey buddy, stay awake," Izuku said, tapping a finger against the mans wrist, "Stay with me. Which shelter? Just want to help you get home."
"It's…the one…the one by the street," the man murmured, "On the street, by the hospital. Near Theed."
Theed. Izuku knew where that was, although he was still vaguely baffled by the streets and wards having Star Wars names. From his brief research he was pretty sure it had been a fit of fanboy enthusiasm on the part of the original builder of the city, following a disaster, but at least it made some things easier.
"Two more stops?" Izuku asked, vaguely remembering where the shelter might be. The man nodded slowly. Two more stops. Okay, Izuku could probably stick with the guy to the shelter, not having to call an ambulance and potentially scare away his dealer. So far the man just seemed out of it, though if he got any worse Izuku would call him an ambulance and let the dealer run. More important to save this poor guy.
"Two more stops," the addict agreed quietly, going back to looking at his hands. Izuku wondered if Trigger use changed his fingers, given the way he was looking at them – maybe convert the other fingers as well? He didn't know, but at least it was keeping the guy quiet. Studying him again Izuku didn't think he'd need an ambulance, just to get back to his shelter and sleep it off. But Izuku would walk him back, just in case. The exercise wouldn't hurt and, besides, he wanted a look at this shelter. If people were just coming around and selling drugs to the homeless, that was something that needed to be looked into.
Jason – and Bruce for that matter, in the time before the Regime – had always made a point of helping to establish safe injection sites. Part of it was morality, sentiment, people didn't deserve to die just because they'd gotten addicted to something and it at least slightly reduced the chances of this sort of thing, dealers infesting shelters. But another part of it was pure practicality. It was, after all, much easier to keep an eye on drug habits when you had a place to keep an eye on. For Bruce, it had meant that he could track users back to dealers who were dealing tainted substances, or rising high in the ranks, spreading their wings too widely. For Jason it had been much the same. It was just that their methods of dealing with it were different.
Jason had found that, even for people who hadn't gotten the message from the duffel bag of heads, a couple of pointed reminders – ho ho ho – brought them around to his line of thinking. And if it didn't, well, he wasn't averse to making examples. People tended to listen to high calibre persuasions, Jason had always found.
Izuku wasn't quite of the same mindset, mostly because he wasn't really set up to try the whole controlling crime thing. But Trigger use was getting worse and worse, and having to go out and find addicts and tail them was far harder than being able to bug a whole bevy of people at once. Maybe he should mention it to Nedzu.
He didn't tail the man to the shelter, in the end. He considered it, but after a moment of thought decided that it would be better to just stick with the man. Apart from meaning that Izuku could catch him if he collapsed, it meant that he could ward away any lurking criminals. He wasn't really in a crime fighting mood at the moment. Luckily they encountered nothing, and made it back to the shelter. It was a boarding house, really, drab and boring, which was probably all the better. Izuku saw the man through the door, catching the eye of the staff member who received him. She took the man off to his room or dorm or whatever it was, and Izuku waited in the reception area, grateful for the respite. It wasn't quite cold, but there was drizzle on the air.
There was a single camera in the corner of the room. Well, it was supposed to be a camera – it was fake. Izuku could see that the wire didn't lead anywhere. Most people would probably miss it, though, which made it a decent deterrent. All the better for him, though, since it meant he didn't have to worry as much about being taped. And as for bugs – well, who would bug a place like this? It would be fine. The staff member came bustling back in, a smile on her face. She was a short woman, maybe fifty, with smile lines etched deeply into the corners of her eyes. She reminded him of him Mom, really.
"Thank you for bringing him back," she said, "I don't know what's gotten into him, but he's been so out of it the past few days. The cold, maybe?"
"Or the Trigger?" Izuku suggested, revealing the inhaler before it vanished up his sleeve again. The smile froze on the woman's face, her eyes becoming shrewd. Izuku thought for a moment, and then took a chance.
"He said that he got some drugs from a staff member here," Izuku said, opting for bluntness. The woman gave him a sideways glance, cutting and hard, and Izuku slid his provisional Hero licence from his pocket, letting her see it before it vanished up his sleeve in a brief display of sleight of hand. The furrow in her brow didn't vanish, but it did ease slightly.
"Oh, thank God," she said, "I've reported this again and again, but nobody seems to care. If it's not a big villain the Heroes aren't interested, and the police just don't have the resources."
"Don't thank me too soon," Izuku murmured, "I'm only here by coincidence."
But that was suspicious. Some Heroes not responding, sure, he could see that. But there were plenty of low level Heroes, even ones who weren't Underground, who would deal with exactly this sort of thing. It smelled like conspiracy to him.
"He used to be a teacher, you know," the woman said, - she didn't offer her name - "A decent one, even. Kids liked him, parents didn't mind him. He had a home."
"What happened?" Izuku asked. She shook her head.
"The school was wrecked in one of those Instant Villain attacks, a few years ago," she said, "It was a weekend so nobody was there, thankfully, but by the time they rebuilt most of the students had already moved to other schools and didn't come back. With so many less students they downsized, and he wasn't exemplary. Just an ordinary decent man. He couldn't find work immediately afterwards, got mixed up in drugs, ended up losing everything other time. It's a tragedy."
"And then while he was here, someone came in and made him an offer," Izuku said thoughtfully. The woman nodded. He could see it happening. The Rogues had, once upon a time, liked to test in places like this. Well, some of them. Black Mask in particular…well. Jason had caught up to him eventually. Izuku shook the thought off.
"Is it the same person each time?" he asked, "Or do they rotate between couriers?"
The volunteer frowned.
"Is this going on record?" she asked cautiously. Izuku shook his head.
"Right now, I'm just a concerned citizen," he said, "I just want to know."
He waited, watching her eyes, and saw the moment she decided to trust him. A hardness touched her gaze and she set her jaw.
"It's always the same person," she said, "But he doesn't always come at the same time. He's – he's one of the volunteers, or he says so, but he hardly ever does anything useful. Always has some kind of survey notes with him. I only saw him handing out the inhaler by accident, but once I'd noticed he's not that subtle. I don't know anything more, I'm sorry."
"That's okay," Izuku said, "Can you describe him to me?"
The woman nodded.
"He's, he's about average height, just a little taller than I am," she said, her nose wrinkling in thought, "I don't know his eye colour. He has brown hair, and no beard. He doesn't have any obvious Quirk signs. He usually wears this, um, this lab coat sort of coat? And he has spectacles."
"You don't know his Quirk, then?" Izuku asked, regretting the lack of the easiest identification method. The volunteer shook her head.
"I don't know if he even has one," she said, "I've never seen him use one. I'm sorry."
"No, no," Izuku soothed, "Don't be. You've been very helpful, thank you."
A possibly Quirkless man, passing out Trigger? More and more complex, but Izuku hoped that Nedzu's ever efficient invasion of privacy could find something. This sounded like something important.
"Thank you, again," he said to the woman, offering her a smile. She didn't smile back, but the stress around her eyes lightened slightly.
"Just don't forget us again, Hero," she said quietly, "We deserve better than that."
As Izuku had promised himself, he spent the weekend with his Mom. He didn't train, he didn't make any gear, he didn't look for promising locations to stash equipment just in case, he didn't look into Stain's killing pattern to try and track him, he left chasing the Trigger dealer at the shelter to Nedzu. Maybe it was irresponsible. But it was the best way for him to stay sane. Just him and all that there really was of his family. Izuku didn't begrudge his father for leaving them, moving countries for a better job, more money that he could support them with. But it had been over a decade since he'd last had his father frequently in his life, and occasional phone calls weren't the same.
But he wasn't here to linger over old regrets. He couldn't change the past, and the future was always a mystery. In the present, with his Mom, he was happy.
His Mom was happy too, he thought, though her concern for him never really went away. He could tell in the way she always flinched just a little at the cold touch of his prosthetic fingers, and the way she stammered slightly when she asked about his school. He didn't begrudge her. All she wanted was for him to be safe, and his prosthetic, especially, was a sign of how close he'd come to dying. It was almost cruel, what his desire to be a Hero was doing to her. But he smiled, and said nothing, and she smiled back. If there was one thing that Izuku could never doubt, it was that his mother loved him.
It was that thought that carried Izuku back to Nedzu's office, to meet again with Nedzu and Aizawa, to plan again. Aizawa was in something of a snit when they met again. It was hard to tell apart from his usual attitude, but Izuku thought he was correct. And he could guess what it was about – All For One. Aizawa was angry that he hadn't been told.
Well, that wasn't unreasonable, really. Aizawa nodded to Izuku when they met outside Nedzu's office, despite his sour disposition, so it looked like Izuku had gotten away with it. He strode into Nedzu's office like a man on a mission, but Nedzu simply started talking without giving Aizawa a chance to criticise.
"The Trigger retrieved by Mr Midoriya, from the shelter on Theed," Nedzu said, "When tested, showed clear signs of being a variant of Ideo Trigger. I trust that you remember that particular strain, Aizawa?"
Aizawa stood there for a moment, utterly silent and still, before the statue cracked and he ran a hand along his scarf. A rare nervous tic.
"It was Ideo Trigger," he said, "Do we think that the Villain Factory is making a return?"
"Excuse me, sir," Izuku piped up, "The Villain Factory?"
Aizawa gave him a tired look, and Nedzu was the one to answer.
"They were a villain group operating in Naruhata, which I'm now certain answered to All For One. They used a combination of chemical and biological enhancements to try to create advanced villains, probably as a precursor or competitor to the Nomu program, but they were most known for the Instant Villains. Regular civilians, injected with Trigger to cause them to go on a murderous rampage. This variant of Trigger was named Ideo Trigger by the police. Aizawa was involved in taking down the Villain Factory."
"But obviously not all of them, if All For One is still out there," Aizawa said. He was clearly still pissed about being kept in the dark, so Izuku wisely said nothing. Let Nedzu fight that particular battle.
"Yes, it seems some of them escaped," Nedzu said, unruffled by Aizawa's lingering hostility, "But we already knew this. The Ideo Trigger was deployed by the Villain Factory just as it was deployed by the Underground Masquerade several years earlier, the connection was always there."
"So someone's handing out Ideo Trigger," Aizawa said, "I don't see how it's our problem. We've got plenty of other things to worry about, like continuing to chase down Abraham and whatever Shigaraki and Overhaul are up to."
"We do," Nedzu agreed, "But these things might be connected. All things lead back to All For One, in some ways, and right now we don't have any leads for the rest. And besides that, we can hardly just leave the chance of more Instant Villains appearing to someone else because we don't want more work."
Aizawa's expression suggested that he very well might have wanted to leave it to someone else, but he didn't say anything.
"We've been hoping that things will lead us to a breakthrough for months," he growled, "It hasn't worked out yet."
"We are one step behind, or maybe more," Nedzu agreed, "All we can do is try to keep up. I have a feeling about this one."
"You've said that about most things we've done. And don't forget the MLA."
"They are, I assure you, always on my mind."
"You really think this will help," Aizawa said, "Tracking down this dealer? You think we can find something useful?"
"One would argue that stopping a Trigger dealer from poisoning the homeless is something useful to begin with," Nedzu said, just the faintest reproof in his tone. Aizawa bristled but didn't immediately reply.
"Do you even know this guy's name?" Izuku asked, and Nedzu shrugged.
"He's American," he said, "His name is Brett Saunders, according to his papers. He doesn't have a Quirk."
Nedzu paused slightly after that particular bombshell.
"I suspect," he said slowly, "That he might be more than a dealer. He's Quirkless, which would make him ideal for brewing Trigger – after all, if he spills some he won't be affected. We may be stepping into something more important than we thought."
"Does it matter, sir?" Izuku asked, interjecting, "Even if he's just a dealer, it sounds like Ideo Trigger is dangerous. Getting it off the street is at least something."
"Yeah," Aizawa said, coming out of his sulk, "Right. This is what Heroes do."
Izuku didn't think he'd ever heard that sentiment expressed so sardonically before, but it was fine. It would be fine, and at least it would satisfy Izuku's ever present urge to punch something. That was something, at least.
Nedzu cleared his throat.
"Before you go, I do have something else to share," he said, and Izuku settled back in his seat.
"Sir?"
Nedzu looked down at his cup, tapping a single claw against the porcelain. It rang unpleasantly.
"In other, also disconcerting news, Wolfram of the Iron Star has escaped. Or, more likely, been broken out of prison."
Izuku paused mid-step, looking at Nedzu.
"Wolfram?" he said, baffled, "How? He couldn't even walk the last time I saw him, he'd torn himself to shreds with his own powers before they gave out."
"Yes," Nedzu agreed, "Which is why I suspect a rescue is more likely than an escape. He was interred in an Italian prison following the I-Island attack, partly because nobody else really wanted him but largely due to the I-Island board of directors having contacts there. What records aren't sealed indicate that he was practically comatose, with his Quirk completely non-functional. He's spent the time since in a prison hospital ward, low priority for security and high priority for investigation. He vanished two days ago. Two guards and one nurse were killed."
"So either he's been faking it and somehow managed to get by with most of his limbs not working, or someone really wanted him for something," Izuku said, "Do we know which?"
Nedzu shook his head.
"The open records only mention his escape and the victims. I have tried to get access to more detailed records or camera footage but it is, of course, sealed."
"Sir," Izuku said, "Please don't tell me that you're carrying out international espionage. I don't mind if you do it, but please don't implicate me. I've got enough things to worry about."
"Oh, Mr Midoriya," Nedzu said, laughing, "I haven't resorted to that yet. No, a simple request for the footage. I am, after all, the Principal of a highly respected Hero school, which includes students that Wolfram might have a grudge against."
Izuku had far too many goddamn enemies. Maybe he should rethink his stance on only killing if it was necessary, because this was ridiculous. If Wolfram came back he'd be approaching double digits in nemeses.
God, he really was turning into Bruce.
Nedzu took the moment Izuku was paralysed by horror to move the conversation along.
"I'll of course continue looking for him. Hopefully he won't come back here to re-enact his loss, but in case he does Miss Asui and yourself could be in danger. Not that being in danger is anything new to you, Mr Midoriya."
He didn't have to say it like that, no matter how true it was. Izuku wondered if he should start wearing armour as a civilian. It couldn't be too hard to hide some kind of protective vest under his usual clothes, could it? Plenty of Heroes wore skin-tight costumes that still managed to provide some protection, after all.
Maybe he should just stay indoors and never go out until someone else captured some of his enemies. That would be nice.
If only it would be likely. After all, they had a dealer to deal with.
They took a car, as they sometimes did. It wasn't as fast as the last one they'd taken, but it was quiet and unobtrusive. Aizawa seemed more familiar with it. Maybe it was his actual car? The Erasermobile. The Erasurecar. The Eracer. The...Izuku couldn't think of a clever name to give it, and Aizawa drove in silence for almost half the way. Despite his quiet, he was the one to break the silence in the end.
"All For One," Aizawa said, and Izuku felt his mouth dry a little, "You knew about him. All Might told you."
"Yes, sir," Izuku said, because what else was there to say? Only the truth. Aizawa took a deep breath.
"And All Might offered you his Quirk, even though he knew it might come with facing All For One."
"Yes, sir."
Izuku thought about arguing that All Might hadn't had any proof that All For One had lived, but he recognised that it was a useless argument. They still didn't have any proof, but All Might had offered after the USJ. He'd suspected, even if he intended to bring down All For One himself first. Aizawa took another deep breath.
"I don't object to keeping secrets," Aizawa gritted out, "And I don't judge All Might for thinking All For One was dead and not wanting to talk about him. But as soon as he knew there was a risk I should have been looped in, especially if he was going to give a Quirk to one of my students."
"Should you, sir?" Izuku asked, mostly because he felt that, like Bruce, Aizawa benefited from some pushback now and then. He saw Aizawa glance at him from the corner of his eye, but kept his gaze straight ahead and Aizawa grunted.
"Maybe not initially," he said, "But once we knew a student might be targeted by a supervillain, yes. Not that it matters now, with the number of enemies you've made."
Izuku wasn't sure if that was a compliment, but he chose to take it like one. Aizawa drove on for another minute in silence before speaking again.
"It's not good practice," he said eventually, "To have secrets that might affect the mission, in something like this. It's probably hypocritical of me to say, but I need to know. I need to be able to plan properly for something going wrong."
Guiltily, Izuku thought of the secret that he still kept, Jason's secret. He could try to tell himself that it couldn't affect them, wouldn't matter, but he knew he was lying. The flashes of temper might not be serious, but they could be. And Izuku had - if Izuku was to tell the truth, he'd been avoiding any kind of clown media. He didn't think it would set him off, but it might. And, more likely, if he ever met a villain who acted even slightly like the Joker...well. Anyway. He should probably tell Aizawa the truth, he knew. But he still didn't. Still couldn't. Later, he told himself, later. He wouldn't have had time to tell Aizawa here anyway, since they'd arrived. Aizawa parked the car down a side-street, tucked away from any streetlights, and they took the streets the rest of the way to their target.
It was a warehouse, perhaps unsurprisingly, and the two of them used grapple and scarf to get up onto the roof and entered through a skylight, getting a good view of the interior.
It was definitely a warehouse, because of course it was a warehouse. And there was a bomb, because of course there was, and there was a maniac in a stained labcoat holding a vial of some definitely toxic fluid in one hand and cackling. Because. Well, because of course there was. Apparently Brett Saunders was simply the kind of person to keep bombs around.
Izuku considered shooting him, just out of principle. It wasn't as though the man would know about the whole warehouse, crowbar, explosive thing – and even if he had Jason had more or less gotten over it through the power of exposure therapy, because good God almighty did Gotham criminals like to blow up warehouses – but still. It was tacky. In fact, Izuku was going to shoot him, as soon as he put the flask down. Luckily Saunders hadn't yet noticed they were there, but Izuku didn't want to attack him while there was a chance that he'd drop the flask and whatever was in it. Probably Trigger, though. The two of them lurked in the darkness of a catwalk above the ground, planning their next move. There were only the three of them in the building, which was a relief.
"We need him to put the flask down," Aizawa whispered, echoing Izuku's thoughts, "Make sure he doesn't drop it."
"I should do it, sir," Izuku murmured back, "I've got the helmet if something goes wrong."
It was the smart play. Even if Izuku hadn't had his helmet it would still be the smart play, because he was Quirkless. If that was Trigger that could aerosolize, it would have no effect on him anyway. It was the smart play. Izuku could see, in the way Aizawa's jaw tightened, that he knew it just as well as Izuku did.
"We'll both go down," he said, "Move in together. You grab the flask, I'll grab Saunders."
That seemed, to Izuku, to rather defeat the point of him going in with his helmet. But he wasn't going to waste time arguing with Aizawa, not right now.
"Alright, sir."
Izuku went down on his grapple, the line moving whisper quiet. Aizawa went on his scarf, somehow even quieter, and they both landed on the ground with only the faintest of thuds. Aizawa started to creep towards Saunders and Izuku shadowed him, eyeing the bomb.
Four minute timer, not yet active. Four minutes was a long time, sometimes. It wasn't a big bomb, either, but whatever was in this warehouse might have a very, very bad reaction. Even worse than the usual reaction caused by bombs, which was to jump several hundred feet in the air and scatter oneself over a wide area. In this case, though, Izuku expected there was something other than high explosives in there. Saunders was far too happy for it to be otherwise.
Aizawa was almost in lunging range when Saunders, in a fit of enthusiasm, spun around and looked him right in the face.
Saunders screeched and lurched back, into his bench, Aizawa dropping into a lunge and Saunders threw both hands up, one with the flask. The other, which had been tucked in his pocket, came out with a detonator.
Aizawa froze. Izuku, his fingers closed around his pistols, froze. Saunders started to laugh again, starting with a giggle and reaching a crescendo of outright howling.
"Eraserhead and Red Hood," he said, "After little old me? You're too late, I'm afraid. Far too late!"
He flicked a switch and the timer on the bomb began to count down. Izuku felt a coil of inherited fury wriggle in the pit of his stomach.
"Okay," Izuku said, "Okay. Would you like to negotiate, Eraser, or should I?"
Honestly, despite previous track records, Aizawa was probably the better choice. Izuku was just going to threaten the guy until he gave up. Maybe the whole situation had him a little more rattled than he'd expected. Aizawa took a step forwards, though Saunders just shuffled away.
"There's no escape," he said flatly, and Izuku watched Saunders, ignoring the bomb for the moment, "Just surrender. You haven't done anything serious so far, don't make it worse."
Silver-tongued Aizawa was not, even if he spoke good, plain sense. But the man they were facing wasn't a hardened thug or a fighter, he might be intimidated. Otherwise, they were going to have to take him down. They'd made a mistake, still. Izuku was fairly sure that Aizawa was capable of disarming a bomb, just as Izuku was, but Izuku was wearing a sealed helmet. If he tackled the mad scientist and the guy dropped the flask Izuku had a filter to protect him. All Aizawa had was his sparkling personality. It would have to be enough.
The timer on the bomb continued to tick down.
"Tick tock, tick tock!" the scientist boasted, "Now we're on the clock! One press of this detonator and that bomb goes off immediately, no time to disarm it! Which will it be, Heroes, let me go and disarm the bomb or try and stop me and die, along with me and all those innocent civilians? Such a trial, such a tribulation!"
Such a nuisance. Izuku wasn't averse to a little theatricality, but this was ludicrous. He almost missed Shigaraki.
That was a lie. Maybe someone else – Stain? Stain. He missed facing Stain. But he wasn't against Stain right now, he was against some lunatic with delusions of grandeur.
"Hood," Aizawa said, very calmly, "Do you see the detonator?"
"I see it, Eraser. Seriously, Saunders, put it down. You're going to kill yourself along with us?"
"Oh, not quite us," Saunders boasted, waving the detonator around, "And not one more move, either of you. One press of this button and that timer doesn't matter anymore!"
Aizawa coughed and Saunders snapped around to face him. For a moment, his grip wavered on the detonator.
Izuku drew in a single flicking motion and a concussion round caught the scientist right on the wrist. Aizawa lunged at the man as he flung the detonator into the air with a shriek and Izuku lunged forwards, running for the detonator. Aizawa hit Saunders and went for the flask, both of them expecting that the scientist would let it go and try to escape.
He didn't let it go.
Instead, he flung it onto the ground just before Aizawa hit him, and the liquid hissed as it boiled away into a thick haze, spreading through the room. Aizawa got a faceful. The scientist got a faceful. Izuku got absolutely none, courtesy of his much-loved helmet. Saunders twisted towards the detonator, the device skittering along the ground, and started towards it even as he shouted. Izuku didn't hesitate for a second, dashing to cut Saunders off.
"Trigger!" Saunders crowed, "How about that, you freak? How does it feel to have your powers turn on you, to be unable to control yourself? How does it feel to have all that superiority turn on you?"
The man laughed as he ran, loud and delirious, and Izuku bolted towards him. Aizawa pulled his hands away from his face, and for a moment the crimson light blazing from his eye sockets lit up the room. The light swept over the scientist and then over Izuku, but neither of them reacted. They had no Quirks to suppress, of course, but Aizawa clamped his hands over his face again with a low snarl of pain. Saunders had a shorter path than Izuku but he was slower, he couldn't beat Izuku and he knew it and so he flung himself, right hand reaching out. Izuku crossed the last two steps in a single flying leap and rammed his boot into Saunder's shoulder, knocking him off balance. Saunders slammed into his workbench, his laughter cutting off in a series of curses, and Izuku bled off his impact with a one-handed somersault back to his feet.
"You should be thanking me!" Saunders howled, lurching from the bench with a taser swinging wildly in his left hand. Izuku stepped sharply back, out of the arc, back in to slam the butt of his pistol into Saunder's nose. The heel of his right boot caught Saunders in the knee with a sickening crack and Izuku pulled the taser from his pain-slackened fingers, jamming it into his ribs.
Izuku left Saunders jolting on the floor and swiped up the detonator, turning back towards the bomb.
"Eraser," he barked, "Sit-rep!"
"Can't deactivate Erasure," Aizawa grunted, his voice hoarse with pain, "Can't risk opening my eyes. Don't know what the backlash will do. The bomb?"
"Dealing with it," Izuku snapped, glancing again at the timer. Long enough. He swiped Aizawa's knife on his way.
"Took your knife, sorry. Saunders is down."
Izuku tapped at his helmet.
"Principal, are you seeing this?"
"I see, Hood," Nedzu said briskly, "Emergency services are inbound. The bomb?"
Izuku slid to his knees, dropping the detonator next to the bomb, and popping the casing off with Aizawa's knife.
"Oh," Nedzu said quietly. Izuku hummed through his teeth, ignoring the gently ticking timer. Either he would disarm it in time or he wouldn't. There was no point in watching the clock.
"Amateur," he said, "Done to schematics as perfectly as possible."
Red wire, blue wire, green-tinted vial of Trigger in the centre. A gas bomb, rather than an explosive bomb. The thought crossed his mind that he was lucky it was Aizawa who'd been dosed, rather than someone with a more impactful Quirk.
"Red to red, brown to brown, blue to bits," Izuku said in English, chuckling faintly. Nobody reacted, but that was fair – Saunders was still down for the count, Aizawa was having Quirk problems, and Nedzu was probably too high brow for a pun that only really worked in English. There was a trap on the wires, Izuku recognised, and he bypassed it by simply reaching in and delicately removing the vial of Trigger. He set it gently down.
"Good," Nedzu said, "Now. The explosive, or the wires?"
"Those wires are both decoys," Izuku said, nudging one gingerly with Aizawa's knife, "I recognise the style. Sort of an anarchist's cookbook, I think."
"Amateur, like you said," Nedzu agreed, "So the real wire is?"
"Right there," Izuku said, reaching in and slipping the razor tip of the knife under an unobtrusive black wire. He didn't hesitate to rethink, instead just pulling the knife up, cleanly severing the wire.
The timer froze forever, with two and a half minutes still remaining. Izuku smiled dryly.
"Not as dramatic as being down to seconds, but a lot more comforting," he said, standing and walking back over to Aizawa. Aizawa was still kneeling with both hands over his eyes, but he was breathing steadily.
"The bomb is disarmed and emergency services are on their way," Izuku said, "Your eyes?"
"Painful," Aizawa grunted, "Could use a blindfold, my eyelids can't entirely contain Erasure."
"I'll get you something," Izuku said. Saunders had rolled to his hands and knees and now let out a croaking, wheezing laugh.
"You are a piece of work," he gasped, "Choosing between stopping a bomb or trying to save your father figure and you chose the bomb without pausing? That's cold, Hood, cold."
Father figure? What the actual fuck was this guy blathering on about?
"Whatever Eraser might be, he's not my father figure," Izuku said, "Might wanna recheck your information."
Saunders might have had a clever comeback to that. Izuku didn't hear it, though, because he picked up the taser and applied it again. Once Saunder had stopped kicking, slumped on the floor and breathing weakly, Izuku stripped him of his coat and cuffed him, cutting a piece of the coat away to make Aizawa a blindfold. Once that was done and Aizawa was sat on the floor with his fingers laced together, breathing meditative against the pain, Izuku leaned against the bench and watched Saunders pensively. A Trigger bomb.
A Trigger bomb, he thought. Wide area dispersal of a gas that, if Aizawa was any indicator, caused Quirks to become active and be impossible to turn off. A weapon of mass destruction, if you were feeling dramatic.
Izuku wished he could say it was unthinkable.
The phone rang.
Takeru almost left it to ring. Almost, because very little that was good ever came from that phone – but he'd made his deal with the devil long ago. He couldn't go back now, and trying wouldn't earn him anything.
He picked up the phone.
"Takeru, my friend," the voice said, deep and warm and so very, very false, "I'm so pleased to hear from you again. How are you, are you well? Is your mother well?"
It would have been polite, if Takeru hadn't known – if he hadn't known. Leave it at that. Still, he forced a smile onto his face and choked back the stammer that wanted to slip through.
"I'm well, sir, thank you. And my mother is in wonderful health. Are you well?"
The laugh that followed was rich and friendly, and it send shudders down Takeru's spine.
"Oh, as well as I can be. You know how it is with us old folk, the cold does get to us! But I'm well, I'm well. I wanted to speak to you about our friend Red Hood, Mr Midoriya. Or Akatani Mikumo, I suppose we could call him, but I think I prefer Mr Midoriya. Though if he continues to be such a nuisance, I think I will do him the honour of calling him by his Hero title. You can see what kind of person a Hero, or Villain, is by their name. I find that. Don't you find that, Takeru?"
"I – I'm sorry, sir, I couldn't convince him to meet with you, he might change his mind but I don't think that-"
He was cut off by more laughter, and he could see his own death looming close.
"Oh, I didn't expect him to take the bait. It was obvious, really, unless he genuinely was stupid. All Might, maybe. But this one seems a little cleverer."
Takeru, well used to the hatred with which his master spoke All Might's name, said nothing.
"No, it was worth the attempt but unlikely. Red Hood, however, has been too much of a nuisance. He draws too close to Humarise's scheme, and while I'd like them to be stopped it would be a waste if they achieved nothing. So, we will have to step in. And how else but revealing one of Midoriya's other schemes? The MLA will doubtless be displeased to learn they have a Hero hiding in their ranks."
Takeru steeled himself.
"What would you have of me, Lord?"
"Use your contacts in the MLA," his Lord commanded, "Tell them the truth. They will be suspicious, but once they research they will find the truth and the boy will reveal himself if pressed, he is too heroic to do otherwise. That will distract Midoriya and the MLA, and if the MLA have any wit about them…hmm. No, we will see how they react before we do any more."
Takeru waited as his master thought.
"I've no doubt Mr Midoriya is working with the wretched Principal Nedzu, as well. Nedzu prides himself on protecting his students, so what better way to distract him than putting one of his precious children in danger? And Midoriya will truly be in danger," his Lord said, cruel satisfaction in every word, "And perhaps it will even reveal other secrets. Ah, Takeru. Allow me to give you some advice, my friend. Never have only one plot at a time. Diversity is the key to success in this business, don't you agree?"
"Yes, my Lord."
"And Takeru, my friend. I'm sure I don't have to tell you not to fail me."
The line went dead. Takeru, with fearful sweat trickling into his eyes and his throat dry, hoped it wasn't an omen of his future.