Chapter 17: Yukimura-saibō
The following morning, both Power and Takumi's eyes were glued to the low-budget television in their living room. Considering Naruhata's constantly elevated crime-rate, it was rare to have anything exceptional enough to be labeled 'breaking news' on the local channel: store robberies, muggings, yakuza-related violence, all stuff that'd make any Naruhata'n yawn and roll their eyes.
Today was an exception.
"Yesterday, at 11:58 PM, a villain alert was reported at Naoki Street in response to an unidentified assailant with a mutant-type lizard-based quirk rampaging across the commercial district—"
Takumi drowned out the anchor's voice, his eyes focused solely on the aerial shot of a large, four-legged reptilian creature covered from head-to-toe in sleek chrome-colored scales. According to his quirk, the mutant's average speed reached around 229 km/h, the equivalent of an entry-level sports car.
A sports car with far more durability than some of the JSDF's light armored vehicles, and one that possessed more destructive prowess than one of their medium tanks.
"—according to the Naruhata Metropolitan Tsuji Hospital. The total fatality count as of today has reached 47, with 18 others still receiving emergency treatment, and a total number of 87 injured civilians throughout the course of the incident."
Takumi's hands clenched, his muscle fibers tightening like wires as his usual mask of everpresent emotionlessness started to slip.
"Witness how those lowborn cretins scurry and scatter! Had I, the mighty Power been there, I would've vanquished that fiend with naught but a single stroke of my blade!" Power stood up and conjured a blood-sworn, swinging it around the living room like a child roleplaying as a knight.
Takumi's gaze remained fixed onto the screen as it switched to footage taken by one of the bystanders fortunate enough to have not become another tally on the hospital report.
"Local police expected a pro hero to respond to the scene immediately after the destruction began, only for an unrecognized figure to intervene before the injury total could reach triple digits."
The recording showed the sight of someone with unusually long onyx-colored hair tied into a neat ponytail, clad in a black and red combat suit accompanied by a maroon-colored bulletproof vest, a pair of shin guards and gauntlets, a noticeably large sheath attached to his back, and most strikingly of all, an arrow-shaped metallic mask that covered his face.
Void of all fear and hesitation, the figure rushed towards the lizard, unsheathing a freshly-whetted katana and rushing straight towards the rampaging beast.
The lizard opened its maw, revealing rows upon rows of razor-sharp teeth that made the bold samaritan's blade look like a mere toothpick, and charging towards him with every ounce of its terrifying speed on full display.
To most, the swordsman seemed like a reckless fool, but Takumi's quirk knew better, the estimates it made based on the figure's stance, weight distribution, and positioning suggested pure confidence. The demeanor of someone approaching a battle with a concrete plan in mind.
At the perfect moment, the masked individual leaped to avoid the lizard's bite, his sword cutting into the creature's gums as he moved.
It was a clean slice, sure, but it had no reason to cause any real damage to the rampaging beast. A fact Takumi believed the swordsman was well aware of.
'Target provisional classification. Physique: lean, optimized for speed over strength. Movement pattern: purposefully erratic for controlled chaos. Estimated reaction time: 85-110 milliseconds. Weapon usage: high familiarity confirmed.'
Strangely enough, the brave fighter's follow-up came in the form of him casually lifting up his mask a little and bringing his bloodstained blade towards his mouth.
Power scoffed. "Hah! Is that the best swordsmanship your species is capable of presenting before mine honorable self? I could have done better with a mere butterknife—"
The lizard froze.
"W-What sorcery is this?!"
There were no signs of struggle, no attempts to resist. One moment, the beast was flailing around with the bloodlusted-desire to turn the swordsman into its next meal, the next, it went totally limp. All power evaporated from its raging, bulky stature as it was rendered about as harmless as a kitten with a swimmer syndrome.
'Event trigger: blade contact to blood exposure. Broadcast latency: 0.18 seconds. Anomaly spike detected. Lizard entity analysis. Motor function: abrupt cessation. Inferred neural signals: active but non-responsive. Collapse pattern: not consistent with physical trauma.'
Takumi let out an inquisitive hum, listening to his quirk finishing its calculations. "It seems there's someone with a quirk in the same category as yours out there."
"Creepy human! I have no time for your riddles! I demand you speak plainly and justify what my all-seeing eyes have just beared witness to!" Power demanded with her haughty demeanor firing on all cylinders.
"He used the creature's blood." Takumi began. "By consuming it, his quirk was able to shut down the lizard's motor cortex, cerebellum, and basal ganglia to effectively paralyze them." He didn't need his quirk to tell which parts of the creature's brain had been affected, just basic biological knowledge of where movement was regulated.
The masked individual was essentially Power's kryptonite, his quirk would have a feel day with someone that fought by expelling their own blood to attack.
The footage continued, showing the swordsman as he proceeded to climb up onto the lizard's head and plunge his blade straight through the brutish creature's scalp, ending it right then and there.
"As of now, no law enforcement or hero agencies have claimed to have any affiliation with the man responsible for the intervention, and according to eyewitnesses, his appearance matched the rumors of the 'Stendhal' vigilante that have been circulating around Naruhata."
Vigilante or not, it didn't make a difference to Takumi. He knew the limited pool of pro heroes operating in Naruhata were far too weak to take on something of the lizard's calibre.
No government official would ever endorse Stendhal's actions, but Takumi imagined most of the ward was grateful he decided to show up. Himself included.
"Make sure you avoid him, Power. The chances of you ever interacting are minimal, but it never hurts to be careful." He cautioned her with heavy emphasis.
People like Stendhal usually had their own compass for deciding who did and didn't deserve punishment, the chances of Power fitting the bill were low, but knowing her, she'd probably find a way to annoy or provoke him into drawing his blade on her for absolutely no good reason whatsoever.
"Nonsense!" She proclaimed with her hands on her hips. "That third-rate swordsman's power is no match for Power's infinitely superior power!"
Takumi groaned despondently. "I wouldn't say that to his face if I were you."
He couldn't help but respect his foster father even more than he already did, being a single parent truly wasn't for the weak-willed.
Knock! Knock!
From the sound of unhurried footsteps and the pungent odor of tobacco leaking through his door, Takumi already knew who his visitor was.
"Yo."
He opened his door to the sight of Himeno holding up a document in one hand, and a lit cigarette in the other.
"Chainsmoking will lose you more than a decade of your lifespan, Ms. Shihai." He remarked while adjusting his glasses, the presence of a cigarette alone didn't bother him as much as alcohol did, but the constant smell of ash emanating from Himeno was really starting to pester him.
Especially when he had to listen to his quirk constantly update how many days the agent took off her life with each puff.
"So? I'm not interested in living in a retirement-age body anyways." She dismissed, taking another drag and blowing it to the side.
"Even so, you'll have to live with the progressive rot of your current body. Respiratory issues, wrinkled skin, yellow-stained teeth and fingernails just to name a few." Takumi paused. "Also, I'm not a fan of second-hand smoking either."
Faster than the trained agent's eye could follow, Takumi's hand shot out and snatched the bud from Himeno's fingers, which he promptly threw onto the ground and stomped out.
"What are you, my father?" She whined, not-so-subtly reaching for the pack stashed inside her coat pocket. "...Huh? I could've sworn I had my lighter in here too…"
"You can have it back when we part ways again." He wiggled the lighter he had somehow nabbed from her coat without her noticing.
"Ugh… are all scholarship students as frustratingly straight-edge as you are?" Her shoulders slumped dejectly.
"It's for your own good." He took the contract she was holding onto. "I trust the fact that you have this means your boss agreed to my demands?"
"Yeah, I think she was a little shocked you even made them to begin with, but she didn't have any problems with the terms themselves."
Takumi's ears didn't gloss over the word 'she'.
"I see." Like he had done with Power's J-LIS identification papers, Takumi looked through the contract to ascertain that it was both authentic, and that there was no fine print or attempts to bend the initial demands he had laid out. "Everything seems to be in order."
He didn't gloss over the signature that had already been put down on the document either, right next to where he needed to co-sign his to officialize the contract.
'I'll remember that name.'
"Cool." Himeno leaned over his shoulder, peeking at Power and the television screen her competitive stare was glued to. "I take it you've heard about what happened in Naoki Street?"
"I have." He confirmed. "A villain of that calibre shouldn't be unregistered in the villain database, or at least recognized to some degree. Which would suggest his appearance has something to do with the Spike drug you mentioned, yes?"
"Sharp as always, scholarship boy." She pointed a finger gun at him. "The coroner's report confirmed the presence of the substance in the deceased lizard villain. We've been trying to locate the villain's latest whereabouts before he got his hands on it—"
"But he turned out to be homeless, making it near-impossible to get a record or any sort of paper trail. At least a meaningful one." Takumi finished. "90% of the reports I've seen on the local news regarding quirk-boosting drugs involve homeless people as users. They have nothing to lose, so they're the easiest people for distributors and sourcers to convince to act as their guinea pigs."
Himeno blinked, surprised by Takumi's spot-on conclusion.
"Welcome to Naruhata, Ms. Shihai." He offered her a dry smirk before grabbing a ball-point pen and adding his signature next to her boss'. "Now then, I don't suppose you'd be kind enough to offer me a ride to Reika's headquarters?"
"Ooo, on a first name basis with a yakuza boss are we? Kisaragi you dog!" She nudged his chest with her elbow. "I didn't know you had a thing for older babes. Oh! Speaking of which, my boss is 4 years older than you. If you could do me a solid and get with her I'd owe ya' big time, I'm positive she'd be way less of a stuck-up bitch if she had a man in her life."
Takumi merely rolled his eyes in return. "Can you really afford to be wasting time after what happened on Naoki?"
"What? You're the one who snagged my smoking privileges, so now I have to find a new way to enjoy myself." Takumi wouldn't say it, but he felt the word 'distract' would be much more fitting. "Anywho, the car's waiting outside. Let's hurry up and get this thing over with, shall we?"
///
.
On the drive towards Kurogane, Takumi decided now was as good a time as any to voice a question that had been lingering at the back of his mind since he saw the news report.
"The Stendhal," he began. "Does the HPSC plan to do anything about him?"
Himeno narrowed her eyes at him, trying to decipher the intent that accompanied his question. "Sorry, but I don't think I'm supposed to talk to you about that kind of stuff."
'Response latency: +0.4s delay. Eye movement: Lateral, brief downward shift. Facial tension: Mild. Tone: Deflective, not dismissive.'
'Suggestion: test hypothesis.'
Despite her refusal, Takumi proceeded to nod as if he had understood something. "I see, so you're struggling to hunt him down."
"Where did that conclusion come from?" Himeno attempted to maintain her secrecy. Unaware of the fact that any response she gave at all, no matter her choice of words, would reveal the truth to Takumi's quirk. Even if her response was in the form of absolute silence.
"You." He said without elaboration. "Just for the record, I'm not pro-vigilante, or anti-vigilante for that matter."
Irritation started to creep up Himeno's face. The way Takumi talked as if he knew everything strengthened the resemblance she felt between him and her boss, which to her, was not a positive comparison.
"I didn't ask if you were."
"Of course," he replied dispassionately. "If the Stendhal interferes in the investigation, what do you plan to do? You don't seem to be carrying the necessary firepower to deal with someone of his prowess."
Unbeknownst to Himeno, Takumi was well aware of the third 'hidden' member amongst them.
The sniper that had been tailing him since yesterday right after Takumi hopped out of the SUV. His quirk managed to detect the reflection of their armament's lens through his glasses, a reflection that lasted for a fraction of a second.
Withal, their identity remained unknown to him. He wasn't able to find an opportunity to observe them without looking directly at their position, and letting the HPSC know he could spot their sniper didn't seem all that wise. Thus, he made the smart choice to feign ignorance.
If anything, it was a testament to the sniper's half-decent positioning ability. That said, he doubted they'd be much use in the case of a possible Stendhal appearance while they were investigating the yakuza.
Judging by all the rumors of the masked vigilante, his understanding of Naruhata's urban layout was bound to be exceptional. With the sniper's limited mobility and Stendhal's immense speed, the chances of a successful takedown were minimal.
"We'd call for backup."
Takumi pursed his lips. "How thorough of you."
His sarcasm couldn't be any more palpable.
///
.
Minutes later, the SUV arrived at a point five minutes away from the border of Kurogane Street, carefully parked to avoid any of the Shiranui-kai's lookouts.
"Good luck." Himeno reached over to open the door for him, attaching a microscopic hidden microphone to Takumi which he pretended not to notice.
'Seriously? The sniper isn't enough? Talk about paranoia.'
"Mm." He returned his listless acknowledgement.
For the third time in his life, he sauntered through the streets of Kurogane, lookouts spotting him left and right and radioing into their walkie-talkies to warn others of his presence. Exactly as Takumi wanted them to.
Sooner or later, information on his appearance would reach Reika. He highly doubted she'd be pleased to see him, but she'd come to see him nonetheless. That's all that mattered.
"You there."
Takumi stopped, facing one of the organization's many watchers. Silently eyeing them up and down and his quirk deemed the figure to be no more threatening than a carpenter bee with a little bit of angst.
"Takumi Kisaragi?" The looker asked.
"That's me," he answered in a lukewarm tone.
"Follow me, and don't try anything funny unless you want a cap in your skull." The looker lifted up his tiger-striped shirt, flashing the firearm strapped to his waist. "Understood?"
"Sure." His lackadaisical demeanor nettled the grunt, but his boss' orders to bring him to her with no interruptions whatsoever were crystal clear, and he had the brains to understand how unbelievably idiotic a decision going against those orders would be.
Takumi was led through the Kurogane Urban Renewal building until he arrived at the cat sanctuary's door. The grunt leaving without another word.
'Here goes nothing.'
With a resigned sigh, Takumi opened the door, the smell of litter, incense, and scattered cat fur hitting his nostrils all at once.
"So much for not wanting to see me again, four-eyes." Reika's unmistakably bitter, distinctly grudging voice reached his eardrums. The woman laid horizontally across her couch with the back of her head facing him. "Don't tell me you had a change of heart?"
He exhaled. "No, I'm not even here because I want to—"
"Why are you talking to me from all the way over there?" She cut him off, lazily motioning for him to approach. "Come here. I haven't seen your face in three months."
'Hostility detected: 74%. Source: lingering resentment.'
Unsurprisingly, his rejection hadn't given Reika much of a positive image regarding him.
With even strides, Takumi walked over to her, taking note of the white-coated persian cat loafing atop her abdomen.
"As I was saying, I'm only here because I have to—"
"Actually, you're still too far." She interrupted him again and scooched to the side a little, leaving a Takumi-sized space on the couch. "You'll have to come a little closer if you want me to hear you."
Like usual, Reika exercised her need to hold dominance between them. Only this time, that need was being fueled by the lingering spite Takumi's visit had just reminded her of.
'Where do you get the nerve, four-eyes? After all that talk about 'parting ways' you just show up out of the blue like this? I haven't touched you with a ten-foot pole these last three months because that's what you wanted, but somehow, you got the impression that you're allowed to just pop in whenever you find it convenient.'
The look behind Takumi's spectacles truly aggravated her, it was like he was silently calling her the problematic one between them. The party that had actually kept their word.
"Alright."
Shockingly, Takumi did exactly as she asked. No half-witted retorts, no complaints. He sat down on the high-end leather and kicked both legs up, grabbing one of the many pillows around and cushioning the back of his head.
"Is this acceptable?"
The tigeress' facial muscles strained, indicating her suspicion. "You must really be desperate."
"I think the word 'hurried' would be more accurate." Takumi folded his hands over his stomach, deciding that he might as well get comfortable considering the circumstances. "I imagine it goes without saying you're aware of what happened on Naoki Street last night?"
She scoffed, her eyebrows lifting just a tad. "Is that what this is about? The lizard? Or the 'Stendhal' that killed it?"
"The former," he confirmed. "Obviously, that lizard was on some kind of quirk-boosting substance. I'm looking for the person sourcing the drug."
Reika shifted, her body turning towards him as strands of her snow-white hair spilled onto Takumi's neck. The smell of lilac soap wafting through his nostrils, a rather unusual choice for someone of her intensity.
"Putting aside whether or not I feel like telling you anything, what makes you so certain I know anything about the drug to begin with?" She clasped Takumi's chin, her nails sharpening into claws with a threatening gleam in her predatory pupils. "Or are you accusing me of being involved in it?"
Takumi had his suspicions, but after that statement just now, his quirk made it clear that she didn't have a hand in Spike's circulation.
"No, I don't think you're involved. Nor do I think you're capable of pointing me to the sourcer outright." He continued, cavalier to Reika's claws. "However, I do think you know someone, or perhaps, some organization that's distributing the drug. The same one that resulted in that lizard wreaking havoc yesterday."
At first, this whole situation was purely an unwelcome necessity to Takumi. A means to get the HPSC off his back.
Until he heard that number on the television.
47.
47 casualties.
Death was common in Naruhata, but that didn't mean Takumi's heart had grown numb to it, at least he hoped it hadn't.
So many lives had been claimed in one incident that was most likely a mere test-run of Spike's potency.
Sure, he wasn't a hero yet, and he wouldn't be for another four years, but that did mean he was allowed to just sit back when people were in danger?
No.
If he was serious about maintaining his own 'humanity', then he needed to do everything—absolutely everything in his power to rid Naruhata of this substance.
More commonly than not, evil wasn't the sole product of evil, but the byproduct of good people doing nothing when the call to action arrived.
That's what his father believed.
Barely anyone, if anyone at all could tell, but right now, Takumi was seething with red-hot vehemence. Naruhata, his home, was already suffering enough, and someone had the gall to use it as a testing grounds for a drastically more lethal quirk-boosting drug? As if the existing ones weren't already bad enough.
It wasn't in the contract, but he was prepared to do a lot more than mere information gathering.
"If it's a different yakuza organization responsible, it's probably in your best interest to tell me. Having less competition around will only benefit you."
Reika's expression tightened. "It almost sounds like you plan on storming them down yourself, four-eyes, assuming I give you a name of course."
"I am a student of NMHU, that opens me to certain circles that can back me in an official capacity." Technically it was true, it just wasn't true yet. Students didn't make any real affiliations until they started their work-study programs in their second year.
And Takumi's first semester hadn't even begun.
"'Certain circles', hm?" Reika slow-nodded, her professional side taking the wheel in favour of her emotional one for a moment.
In truth, she knew exactly who was responsible for distributing Spike throughout Naruhata, and it wasn't just some other yakuza, it was one of her direct rivals. An organization she had traded lives of hers and their subordinates with a countless number of times.
Having them gone wouldn't just be beneficial influence-wise, it'd be satisfying. Poetic just even, at least from her perspective.
"If I give you a name, are you sure you'll actually be able to handle them?" She retracted her hand from Takumi's face, softening her posture to signal her interest. "I don't want to see a hornet's nest poked only for the exterminator to quit on the job halfway."
"I am," he replied without hesitation.
Inwardly, Takumi had already decided to involve himself in the situation, regardless of whether the HPSC wanted him to be or not. He had no personal grudge against Himeno, but that woman clearly wasn't in any condition to operate, nor was she a local who understood Naruhata's ins and outs as well as he did.
At the moment, her competency was questionable at best.
Reika exhaled deeply, Takumi was anything but in her good graces right now, but she had no questions about his combat-prowess.
"You better not make me regret this, four-eyes." She paused. "Yukimura-saibō. They're the yakuza in charge of distributing the drug. I don't know anything besides that."
"Not even the whereabouts of their headquarters?" He pressed.
She pressed her thumb against her forehead, wracking her brain. "They change locations often, but the latest one I can recall was a textile warehouse in Naoki. It's the only one there, you can't miss it."
"I see," he nodded his appreciation. "Thank you for your help."
He got up and proceeded to walk towards the door, careful not to trod on any of the felines strolling around the floor.
"Takumi…" She called out to him.
"Yes?"
Her amber eyes glistened with conflict. "I don't know what it is exactly you plan on doing… but make sure you don't die out there… alright? Those guys have taken more than enough lives, even by my standards…"
Takumi responded with a simple, subtle hum of acknowledgement.
///
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