As happy as Shota was to leave the hospital, he’d been aiming for his bed, not a teacher meeting. It had been stressful enough when the nurses had explained to him that his Quirk may never come back and having to accept that. Only to accidentally activate it out of instinct when Nemuri and Hizashi had gotten too rowdy during a visit. The doctors had been stumped, and the whole thing have Shota a headache.
Regardless, here he was, sitting on an uncomfortable chair and wishing his coffee had whiskey in it.
Nedzu folded his paws. “I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that USJ was a disaster.” The resulting silence was somewhere in between somber contemplation and no shit, ya think? “So, what are we going to do about it?”
Cementoss straightened. “Have we discovered how they breached our security?”
Nemuri’s lip curled into a sneer. “A technology blocking Quirk. One of the captured Villain’s fessed up to being the one to do it. It’s not like they could have hacked our system.”
The staff shared a shudder at the possibility. Nedzu had designed that bit of U.A. security personally, and if the Villain’s had someone that could’ve broken through that…well, the USJ would have gone much differently.
“I find it interesting that so many would follow a glorified man child to fight against the Number One Hero.” Hizashi leaned back in his chair. “From what we’ve seen, Shigaraki had little to no planning skills and promptly lost it when things didn’t go as planned. There’s no way he’s the mastermind behind this.”
All Might smiled wryly. “Not to mention giving away the Nomu’s weaknesses so easily. I might not have been able to defeat it if I had not known about its shock absorption.”
Vlad cleared his throat. “I know we’ve already said that they knew where to go because of the class schedules, and I agree that the press break in was a diversion, but are we sure that it wasn’t an inside job?”
The air became thick with tension.
“Betraying Heroes is a dangerous position to be in,” Hizashi narrowed his eyes. “Who would’ve had the opportunity?”
Cementoss folded his hands. “Weren’t there students in the teachers lounge? Aizawa, you went and checked on the right?”
He blinked slowly before answering. “Yes. Midoriya Izuku and Shinsou Hitoshi were in there.”
“Isn’t Midoriya the one who lied multiple times during his interview?” Vlad asked, brow furrowed.
Nemuri nodded with pursed lips.
“If he was in the teachers lounge, he would have had the chance to see the class schedules.” Cementoss pointed out. “And since he’s a student he wouldn’t’ve had to sneak in.”
The idea that Midoriya had been in there made Shota snort. “I doubt he was the thief.”
Snipe raised an eyebrow. “How come? He would’ve had the opportunity. Besides, having another kid in there just means they could be working together.”
“I doubt he was the thief because when I found them in the staff room, Midoriya was in the middle of a severe panic attack and the only reason he wasn’t hyperventilating was because Shinsou had placed him under his Quirk to stop him from fainting.” He deadpanned.
There was an uncomfortable silence.
Shota continued. “And in case any of you are thinking that he could be faking it, he was also likely dissociating, because he referred to myself as Dark Red and Shinsou as Purple.”
“Is it possible Shinsou is manipulating Midoriya?” Vlad asked. “His Quirk is Brainwashing, so it is possible that-”
“Wow Vlad, that’s some nice Quirk bias you’re showing there.” Hizashi interrupted, his grin sharp. “Regardless, I find that unlikely. Shinsou visited Midoriya in the hospital and when the nurses didn’t let him in, he camped outside his room. He practically cried when I managed to convince the staff to let him see him.”
Nemuri sneered at Vlad. “I didn’t realize were we decided who was guilty based solely on their Quirks. Must have missed that memo.” She knew, probably more than Shota, the damage Quirk stereotypes could do to a person. He’d had to deal with people saying he was close to useless, and might become a low-level Villain, she’d had to deal with accusations of already being one.
“Detective Tsukauchi was able to discern that while Midoriya did lie, he was not apart of, or helping the League of Villains.” Nedzu smoothly cut in. “We will look into this, but it is highly unlikely that Midoriya is affiliated with them.”
“So we potentially have two organized Villain groups.” Ectoplasm pursed his lips. “That makes me feel much better.”
All Might cleared his throat. “Are we sure they will attack again?”
“They attacked and children were put in harms way.” Snipe crossed his arms. “Once is enough.”
Shota’s arm throbbed painfully. Once was more than enough.
“At least the press hasn’t been able to find the list of injuries the Villains had.” Nemuri sighed. “I don’t know what kind of finger pointing would go down if they got a hold of that.”
That was putting it lightly. Those kids should not be blamed for what they did in defense of their lives. They didn’t ask to be attacked within the first month of school with only the bare minimum of training, and it wouldn’t be right to judge them from those actions. Shota knew, that they would not have let any of the kids take the blame if one of the Villain’s had died. They were supposed to face danger in controlled situations with supervision, but this? This was throwing them into a boiling river and telling them to swim.
“Those vultures will be picking at the edges for a while after this.” Hizashi said grimly.
Nedzu clapped his hands together. “Indeed. Which is why we’re going to proceed with the Sports Festival.”
“Are you sure that’s the best idea?” All Might questioned.
Shota found himself in the uncomfortable position of agreeing with him. “It’ll put even more stress on the kids.” He pointed out. “Even if they’re going to be seeing Hound Dog for the foreseeable future, that isn’t a cure all.”
Nedzu took a sip of his tea. “We can’t afford to show weakness. The police and Hero presence with be heightened as to ensure student and crowd safety.”
“Those kids just went through something traumatic.” Nemuri argued. “They were supposed to be safe at the USJ too, but we saw how that played out.”
Nedzu sighed. “Unfortunately, we don’t have a choice-”
“There is always a choice.” Hizashi cut in.
He continued as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “-and so the Sports Festival will be going as scheduled. This is not up for debate.”
“Fuck this.” Nemuri hissed, shoving herself to her feet.
No one said anything as she stalked out of the room and slammed the door.
Fuck this indeed.
…
Izuku had a problem.
Well, actually he had multiple problems, but this one was a little more urgent than the others.
He had forgotten, between stressing about Aizawa figuring about that he was the reason for his disappearing and then reappearing Quirk and reassuring Shinsou that he was fine, about the fact that they had probably tried to call him mom and inform her about what happened. And unless U.A. had a medium lying around somewhere, he found it highly unlikely that they were able to contact her. The hospital wouldn’t let him leave unless his mother or another family member took him, which left him in his current dilemma.
He was currently living in an abandoned warehouse with another teenager with no adult supervision and practically no way to fake a parent coming to pick him up. It wasn’t like Shinsou could dress up in a trench coat and moustache and convincingly play his father and that left him with very few options that wouldn’t make the adults around him even more suspicious.
Unless… a traitorous bit of his mind whispered.
Izuku didn’t want to do it. He really, really, did not want to do this, but he didn’t have many options at this point.
With great reluctance, he picked up his heavily cracked phone and scrolled through his contacts.
Clicking the one labeled Uncle, he held the device up to his ear and waited.
…
Giran leaned back in his chair, a cigarette dangling from his lips.
It had been a fairly slow day today, though he wasn’t surprised. After a showing like that at the USJ, the smarter Villain’s were laying low and seeing how this would play out, while the idiots were emboldened by it and thus attempted their own plans. They always failed, and Giran didn’t deal with idiots. At least, he tried not to. All for One’s organization had retreated to lick its wounds, and while the talentless grunts they had brought along were sitting pretty in jail right about now, the big players were still at large.
He was filing note a with a tip from his spies in the police when his phone started buzzing, the screen lighting up with the contact name Sprout.
His eyebrows shot up. The brat didn’t contact him unless necessary, and as far as he knew, he was still in the hospital after Shigaraki had disintegrated part of his leg. What could he possibly want?
“Giran speaking.”
There was a slight pause on the other end. “I need you to do something for me.”
He’d figured. The kid wasn’t one for social calls.
“They won’t let me leave the hospital without an adult to pick me up.” Ah, so that was the problem. Inko couldn’t for obvious reasons. “Are you going to come?”
Giran didn’t have to. He knew very well, that if he said no the brat would manage a way out on his own.
Eh, it wasn’t like he had anything else to do.
“Yeah I’ll be there.” He grunted, getting to his feet. “Expect me in about twenty minutes.”
He didn’t bother asking what hospital Izuku was at, and the kid didn’t tell him. They both knew it would be a farce anyway.
…
The nurses didn’t want to let him go.
It was obvious from the way they kept shooting wary glances at Giran, that they were not at all comfortable letting a teenager go with someone who looked as much like a sleeze ball as Giran did.
“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather wait for your mom?” One of the secretaries asked.
Izuku smiled tiredly. “Yeah, I just want to go home. My uncle is planning on dropping me off right away, so you don’t have to worry about me exerting myself.”
The man pursed his lips but nodded. “Alright. I hope we won’t be seeing you again anytime soon.”
He laughed. “You and me both.”
Walking out of the building side by side with Giran made his skin crawl, but he kept his face blank. Izuku doubted it actually helped. Giran was as shrewd as he was seedy.
“I’m not showing you where I’m staying.”
Giran glanced at him, one brow raised. He could read the subtext Izuku was putting out clear as day. I’m not showing you so don’t go looking.
“You found a place to hole up in? Is it any good?” He pulled out a lighter and cigarette.
No point in denying it. “Yeah.”
“Good, good.” Giran patted his shoulder and Izuku had to resist the urge to backhand him. “I was a bit worried, you know? Bad enough you’re on your own, but that attack must have been something to deal with.”
And there it is. He restrained a sigh. He had known it wouldn’t be long before the bastard started trying to fish for information. It was his job after all, and there was no way he’d come just out of the goodness of his heart.
While his uncle had been vital is helping create new identities over the years, Izuku trusted him about as far as he could throw him. The two nicest things Giran had ever done were not selling his own sister and nephew to the organization hunting them, and giving Izuku a new identification for free as some sort of gift after his mom died.
He smiled, exposing his teeth. “I manage just fine. It’s not like anyone could have seen this coming.”
It’s not like I have a living relative who has several contacts in the underworld and who probably knew about, in at least some capacity, what was going to happen.
Right?
…
The brat had bite if nothing else.
Giran didn’t respond to the veiled jab, deciding it would be more trouble than it was worth to argue with the kid. He may be related, but he didn’t give information out for free, even to family. Even Inko had paid for her shit, even if it had been at a reduced price.
Giran could see her influence practically pouring off of the boy, obvious to anyone who had really known her. It was more than just the colouring-though that certainly didn’t hurt-it was the way he smiled sweetly with eyes that promised death, the way he looked so innocent and defenseless until you realized, far too late, that he was not. It was the cunning that lurked under the surface and cut like a knife.
He had always thought that their family’s intelligence must have come from their mother, since the deadbeat who’d created him had promptly fucked off and god knows Inko’s father couldn’t tie his shoes without help. Even now, years after her death, Giran could see her dangerous half-smile when someone came knocking at their door and looking for trouble.
Despite being nearly a decade older than Inko and having different fathers, they’d always got along fairly well. She’d been a spitfire, and even when their careers diverged in completely different directions they’d kept in contact. He’s been fond enough of her that he’d played ignorant to her whereabouts when dangerous people came looking, even if it had made his reputation take a blow. Giran wasn’t nearly as fond of her brat, but Izuku was the only thing remaining of his kid sister, so he allowed himself to be sentimental.
Izuku suddenly stopped, turning to face him. “This is far enough.”
Giran didn’t blame the brat in the slightest for wanting to keep his location a secret. One of the things that kept him employed was information, and the more common the information, the less valuable.
Flicking his cigar on the ground, he gave a half-grin. “You know where to find me. Don’t get yourself killed, Inko would never forgive me if ya died.”
A barely noticeable twitch made its way across Izuku’s expression before the boy grinned. It was filled with teeth and pain and death and a bone deep exhaustion born of a life of running and fighting.
His laugh was grating and cold. “Don’t worry, it’ll take far more than that to kill me. Worry about yourself. You never know when someone like yourself will find himself in the crosshairs of a war.”
Izuku began backing away, his expression mocking as he took a bite out of an apple he’d pulled from lord knows where. With one last wave, he vanished into the crowd like he’d never been there at all.
Giran laughed. That kid will go far.
And god help anyone who tries to stop him.
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