Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The Blood We Share

Prologue/Chapter 1

“They don’t deserve your shit-stained name. Never did. Never will.”

It had rained last night, and though the sun was rising, it had yet to fully banish the dark, leaving the world to blur together into a brown and grey mess like a bad watercolour. Meanwhile, the smell of petrichor wafted into the Todoroki house the soil and water smell equally hinting at the fresh green growth and thick, wet rot that was to come.

A deep voice boomed, breaking this middling peace, as Endeavor, hero of Japan and second in power and respect to All Might, demanded his children's presence. 

Though early yet, the eldest, thirteen-year-old Touya arrived first in the living room. His mind and body still attuned to old patterns, he had been up already, his red hair brushed, teeth clean and dressed in a blue tracksuit. He surveyed his father, the swirling azure of his eyes never settling long enough to reveal what lay beneath, then stood at attention, every muscle tense, his gaze still intense even though no longer aimed at anything or anyone. 

The second and third eldest arrived next. Despite only being eleven along with a crooked robe missing glasses and eyes so sleep-encrusted you'd likely think them yellow not grey, she dutifully herded Natsuo into the room and beside Touya, then automatically positioned herself so they guarded both of their younger brother’s flanks.

For his part, Natsuo had been startled awake, puzzled by the early wakeup call and unused to being summoned. He was easily larger than his elder siblings, but his movements betrayed his actual eight years. He fidgeted under his sister's firm grip on his shoulder—unaware or uncaring that she was trying to hold him in place—worried the bottom of his pajama shirt and kicked off a slipper so he could run to his toes over the texture of the tatami floor. He only settled once he noticed Touya’s posture, clumsily mimicking it.

Their father was in his normal training clothes...or not quite. While both feet where in the typical sneakers he used for indoor training, one was missing a sock. While Touya was still didn't see, Natsuo did and had to suppress a giggle whereas Fuyumi reacted with confusion. Their father was a man of precision and purpose, thus the small oddity was magnified tenfold.

Their father gave them a series of questions which the elder two children had heard before; they were used to establish if there had been any villain activities near them. While villains knew better than to cross him or his family, occasionally one would try.

Natsuo, on the other hand, didn’t fully embrace the severity. At first he was hypnotized by the entire thing—for all that it was negative—he didn’t remember a time where his father had given him this much attention. But after five minutes, his interest waned, and by ten, it had died altogether. So while his elder siblings answered with military discipline, he looked for their youngest brother.

When once they had been joined at the hip, Natsuo almost never saw Shouto anymore. The last time being a week ago shortly after Mom had hurt him. 

Poor Shou had been nothing but miserable since then as much due to the injury as the fact that Mom had been taken away. So Natsuo resolved to cheering him up. So he leaned back so he could get a look at the other side of Touya, thinking he could get his little brother’s attention then make silly faces at him or—if he was feeling really daring—show off by waiting until Father’s back was turned and making rude gestures at him. 

When there was no sign of Shouto, Natsuo checked the other side of Fuyumi. Still nothing.

That was odd. If they were villains around— something Natsuo was starting to consider with interest—surely Father would have Shouto close as hand. He was the favourite after all, the rest of them a secondary concern.

Maybe he wasn’t lined up with the rest of them for other reasons? Natsuo could see why Father wouldn’t want to question Shouto. Shouto might have a Proper Quirk but at five, he was still practically a baby. Meanwhile, Natsuo with his two and a half year supremacy could be trusted to notice important things.

Natsuo kept looking, examining the room's simple Japanese-style furniture as if it could hide anything before looking through any open doors, expecting to find familiar blue and gray eyes looking back at him… Or would that be a bandage and a gray eye? Had that healed yet?

“Natsuo, pay attention!” his father snapped. “On your trip home yesterday was there any—?”

“Where’s Shouto?” Natsuo asked, the words exiting his mouth before he registered what they meant.

The words and their father’s lack of answer woke Fuyumi the rest of the way, her hands slowly crept upward as the horrible realisation dawned on her, before sealing over her mouth as if if she didn’t say anything it wouldn’t be true.

But where his siblings had caught onto reasonably quickly, Touya was laggard in comparison.

Bit by bit understanding trickled in like a dam with a crack in it. First it was a few drops at a time as his gaze drifted down to his left side and when Shouto proved not to be there, he tried his other side, forgetting Natsuo's presence, then looked near Fuyumi's. None of these revealed his youngest sibling nor did the space behind him.

Finally, he turned to their father and repeated the question, “Where’s Shouto?” 

At the look in his father’s eyes, he walked mechanically to Shouto’s room and stared at the still open window within. Then he went from room to room and found one after another empty, each sight striking a blow to the dam within. Soon the drops were a stream then a river, and when he reached the final room huge in its destitution, the dam shattered entirely.

The torrent of the knowledge pushed him with each step, his feet moving increasingly fast lest he drown in it. When he reached the entrance way, his speed was such that by the time his father started to move to catch him, Touya’s already out the door.

“Touya! Touya!” his father yelled, but his eldest paid no heed and continued to accelerate, his form soon becoming a red and blue blur streaking towards the horizon.

And so began the first day.

Soon police and heroes swarmed the house. Shouto’s room was taped off as a crime scene. Fuyumi and Natsuo were forbidden from going to school, and instead were interrogated again and again about the events and their observations from the past few days. 

Eventually, when it looked like both were liable to fall over from exhaustion—Natsuo was already drooping dangerously—a disgruntled hero showed up. He looked like a hobo rather than an icon of justice, but it didn’t stop him from viscously raking the interrogators over the coals. He pointed out that since neither of their parents were present, one of whom was Endeavor, what they were doing was illegal, and he was perfectly willing to make sure they felt all the consequences if they didn’t stop immediately. Once the interrogators were suitably chastised, he herded the children into bed.

On the second day, they were more or less left to their own devices. Fuyumi did her homework, studied and tried to get Natsuo to do the same, but the little boy would have none of it and eventually snuck away to watch the forensic teams dissecting their home. It seemed he could go nowhere without a flash blinding him or tripping over someone taking a sample. Every bit and piece of the house was documented then documented again. 

It was all very exciting and he watched them for hours before reporting the entire thing in great detail to his sister who would nod at all the right places and smile woodenly. The lack of enthusiasm seemed strange to him, Father might be mean but he always got his way; thus, it was only a matter of time until Shouto was found and Touya came home. 

On the third day, Touya’s name was officially declared missing as it was being proposed that whoever had taken Shouto had him as well. While there had been people looking for him before, now, the number doubled. Meanwhile, the remaining children were no longer let out onto the grounds and Father's sidekicks guarded every entrance and exit.

Natsuo was barely able to pinch Touya’s soccer ball from his bedroom before it too was declared a crime scene. He then took it to Father’s training room and started kicking it into Father’s stupid weights and other stupid equipment. Clearly Father was being lazy, and when a stupid sidekick came to check on the disturbance, he glared at her, daring her to object. 

Despite Fuyumi’s assurances that things wouldn’t get worse. The only time Father had been home for any length of time, he'd interrogated the family’s maid and cook quit with such ferocity that they quit an hour later. Fuyumi did her best to take over, and in between scrubbing floors, countertops and any other surface she could reach, she managed to create basics like sandwiches for the family and their ‘guests’.

Days four and five were marked by Natsuo continuing to rampage, destroying anything remotely related to his dumb, lazy, useless father. Whereas on the other side of the house Fuyumi continued her lady of the house duties. Police and heroes alike had offered to help, but Fuyumi politely refused each and every one. 

By the sixth day, whatever fire had lived in Natsuo had finally been extinguished and at all hours, he stared out windows, hoping to see his brothers come home. For her part, Fuyumi continued to obsessively clean every nook and cranny of the house as if by doing so she could purge any fears from her mind. Her fingers had become so chapped by the constant work that sometimes she would have to clean up a drop of her own blood.

Whether it worked or not was irrelevant because that was the day they received the phone call from her father.

Shouto had been found dead.

Two nights later, Fuyumi made her evening rounds of the house, asking the various police officers and heroes if they needed anything. Natsuo dogged her every step, his grey eyes glued to her, terrified that if he looked away, she—like Mom, like Touya, like Shouto—would disappear.

Fuyumi was nearly done; she was just saying good night to one her father’s sidekicks, a man covered head to toe in bandages, when she heard the faint creak of the front door opening. The sound set her stomach to bubbling with anticipation.

She shouldn't look. She didn't want to. Hope had been cruel this past week.

Despite herself, her traitorous body twisted towards the door and… 

It was Touya. It really was Touya.

His clothes were dirty, torn and burnt. His red hair was so sodden with dirt and ash that it was practically black. His bare feet were caked with mud and blood.

But she didn’t care. It was Touya and he was home .

The relief was one sided as her elder brother right past them. Not even sparing her or Natsuo a glance.

Fuyumi did the same and Bandages followed him and . “Where have you been?” she asked, feet ablur as she tried to keep up with his brisk pace.

Touya didn’t answer. Instead he said, “I’m here for a backpack and food and then I’ll go find Shouto” but with his eyes distant, it was clear he was talking to himself. “Backpack. Food. Shouto.” 

This last part became a mantra as he recited it again and again as he reached his room, and, not even acknowledging the police tape, walked straight through it.

After he recited the mantra for the fifth time, the bandaged sidekick looked over at Fuyumi, his head angled in such a way as to say, ‘Do you want to tell him or shall I?’ 

She wanted to take the offer, to thrust the burden at him and run. But no, Mother would never have shirked such a task. If Mother wouldn’t then Fuyumi couldn’t, so she grabbed him by the arm when he tried to pass her by again, trying to drag him back to Earth.

For the first time since returning home, he seemed to see her. “Let me go, Fuyumi,” he ordered as he struggled to extract himself. “I have to be out there. I have to find Shou.”

She dug her heels in. “No. You can’t do anything.”

“Yes, I can,” he insisted. “I’m going to help. I have to. ”

“Touya, you can’t. You can’t help… There’s nothing to help.”

A strange light came into his eyes. “Does that mean…he’s home? Shouto’s here?”

He should have understood. Should have known what she meant. Nonetheless, Touya clung to denial like a man falling off a cliff might cling to a tuft of grass. “Shouto?” he called, pushing past her. “Shouto?” Next he tried the laundry, then the kitchen and living room. Each time he called their youngest brother’s name in the same hopeful tone. This fruitless retread of his actions of days before made Fuyumi's chest ache.

It was until he passed by the entrance on his way to Fuyumi’s room that anything shifted in Touya’s world. While Bandages and Fuyumi had chased Touya, Natsuo had done no such thing, afraid that if he got too close, Touya would disappear like a mirage in the desert. Now his fears had abated and he threw himself at his elder brother, tightly clutching to him.

While hardly unusual, the sight typically bordered on comical, with Natsuo looking much older than his years and Touya much younger. This was no longer a problem. The boy, who despite years of training still had had a layer of puppy fat, was replaced by a worn scarecrow of a youth with sharp cheekbones and sunken eyes. 

Touya continued to struggle against his siblings until he noticed a plushy that Natsuo held. 

Natsuo’s grip on the plushy slackened as he tightened his hold on his elder brother. It would have fallen had Touya’s fingers not automatically wrapped around it, instinctively protecting it. Dazedly, he held it up the light, angling it this way and that, as if believing that if he moved it just the right way, it would reveal some secret. 

This toy was Shouto’s and was a soft, fat replica of All Might. Touya had never bought into the myth of the saccharine and supposedly perfect Number One hero; however, Shouto had been enamoured. Thus, one night prior to Shouto’s fifth birthday, Touya had snuck out and bought it for him.

It had been Shouto's most precious possession and its presence in the house was a secret that all the siblings had kept from their father. To have it out in the open like this…

Had been Shouto’s. Had been Shouto’s. Had been.

It was not Shouto’s anymore.

Fuyumi relaxed her hold on him. “I’m so sorry, Touya.”

He didn’t respond.

“They found him a few days ago in the bay,” she explained, running comforting fingers across the back of his hand. “I thought after the police are… done with him, before the wake, we could bring him home.” She let out a wet hiccuping sound. “Maybe put him in Mother’s room? He missed her so much and I-I thought he might want to be close to her for one last time."

Still silent, Touya’s body shivered as he continued to stare at the plushy, burning its bright colours into his eyes. The shivers continued to increase until she thought that he might shatter then and there but once they reached their peak, they abruptly stopped and his expression turned to stone.

When Touya turned his attention away from the toy the anxious sidekick hovering in the background. “When is he coming back?”

There was no need to ask who ‘he’ was. “I called him already. I bet he’s rushing home now.” the sidekick answered.

Touya snorted at this, then said, “Leave.”

“I was given orders to take care of you and your siblings.”

“Doubt it,” Touya drawled. “I don’t remember you and me hanging out lately.”

“Still, the spirit of what he said—” The sidekick cut off at Touya’s look. “At least let me take a look at your feet. They ought to be—”

“Are you going to push me, Kido?” Touya snapped.

The man bowed his head. “If you change your mind, Todoroki-kun, I’ll be by the entrance.” Then he left.

The man backing down confused Fuyumi. The match had looked comical with the man over a foot taller than Touya and nearly twice as wide. “Touya, where have you been?”

“I thought that I said ‘Leave’.”

“But—”

“Don’t make me say it again.” At this he glared at Natsuo who instinctively moved away from Touya and into the arms of his sister.

Fuyumi opened her mouth to protest but the words turned to ash on her tongue. While the tattered youth remained before them, a new figure seemed to interpose himself on him. Yes, his clothes were wrong, the voice too young and form too small; however the tone, the expression and even the way of standing were all too familiar. 

Grabbing Natsuo, she dragged him away and back to his room. There she maneuvered him into bed, pulled the sheets over him, and, after hesitating for a second, snuggled in beside him.

The absence of Natsuo and Fuyumi was a relief to Touya. He just couldn’t deal with them right now, especially not with their father coming home. He was not exactly sure of the reason, but he had needed it. Perhaps because he didn’t know what to say to them. Perhaps because he didn’t want them witnessing their father’s rage at him for running off.

He supposed that it didn’t matter. He had needed them gone and they were.

He made his way to the training room. Once there he took it all in, machines, weights, balance beams. All of it. Not so long ago he had been more familiar with this place than his own bedroom.

It was almost comforting if not for the section of the room where the weights were lighter, the machines smaller. There had been a time when those had been Touya’s, then as he grew they had been tucked away only to be brought back when Shouto’s training had started. For the last year, Touya had thought their presence profane, but now, they only flooded his mind with what-ifs.

Endeavor should have trained Shouto harder. Then Shouto would have been stronger. Would have had better control of his Quirk. Would have been able to protect himself.

Touya should have trained Shouto harder. It had been his job when their father had been busy. Yes, he had been furious seeing his burden being shifted onto his little brother, but that had been no excuse to slack. If he hadn’t slacked, Shouto would have been able to protect himself.

Shouto should not have been trained at all. If Shouto hadn’t thought he could handle himself, he would have stayed away from danger. If Shouto had seen it, he would have run or yelled, and Touya could have—would have—found and saved him.

Touya’s body ached. His stomach was furious with him that he had tempted it with food then ignored it. His pounding head and heavy eyelids begged him to lie down on one of the mats and drift away.

He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. Instead, he paced in circles around Shouto’s little area, slamming the mishmash of recriminations against the fatigue and pain.

When he heard the sound of footsteps, he rushed out until the hallway. There stood his father. He was in costume however his customary flames were out. It made him look...strange. Mismatched.

He stepped towards Touya. The expected anger never came and, instead, he slowly, carefully placed one heavy hand on his son’s shoulder. 

“Did you catch the ones who did it?” Touya asked.

“No.” The simple word hit the ground like a leaden weight.

With his father’s jaw bare of fire, he could see the beard hair speckling it—far longer than his customary morning stubble. The thought sent a twisting sensation through Touya’s gut, and he demanded, “Do you know who did it?”

“No.”

Touya slumped, only stopping from hitting the floor by the press of something soft against his leg. It was the plushy, he hadn’t realised that he was still holding it. From his facsimile of fabric and cotton batting, All Might sneered at him, mocking him for his weakness.

“If you can’t hurt the ones who did this… If you can’t find them… If you can’t save Shouto, what’s the point of you?” Touya asked. There had to be something to hold onto. A reason to go forward. 

This man before him couldn’t be his father. Couldn’t be Endeavor. Those men were implacable icons of power. Meanwhile when Touya looked at this man, he found a face reflecting his own. Pitiful. Guilty. Lost.

Human.

With that Todoroki Enji dropped his hand from Touya’s shoulder, entered the training room and locked the door behind him.

Chapter Text

The Blood We Share

Chapter 2

“Haven’t you learned anything? Mom’s gone because of you! How many other lives do you want to fuck up?”

Ten Years Later

The darkness was a living thing. Thick, humid and wrapping around him like a snake. Its pungent scent sinking into his very pores.

It twisted and turned, working its way up his nose and down into his lungs. There it sat, the weight of it dragging him down, making every breath a painful, laborious chore. 

The man ought to have been unsettled by it. Instead, he relished the feeling. It was if the darkness and the pain were missing parts of himself that he had finally found. Pieces of a puzzle that were slipping into their proper place, making him whole. They belonged together.

Then, there in the depths of the darkness a voice rang out, “Let there be light.”

“What the fucking hell?” said Touya.

“Could you provide a bit of light?” the voice said sheepishly.

Yeesh, such dumb nonsense. Touya grumbled, and with a flick of the wrist, a flame burst to life in the palm of his hand, illuminating the sewer and its occupants. Mr. Water Hose, aka. Mister, stood a few metres away from Touya, the snorkeling mask-helmet hybrid he usually wore was off his head and cradled in his lap.

“What’s with the Christian stuff?” Touya asked.

“I guess I got a little over dramatic. It’s going to be a big night after all,” Mister said.

“Yeah, and?”

“Batteries for my helmet lights died,” Mister answered, cracking open a panel on its inside. “Need to change them.”

Up above, Mrs. Water Hose’s face appeared in the manhole opening. “Honestly, Mizu,” she said, “I told you to change batteries before we left.”

“I did!”

“Did you check that they worked?” Missus asked as she squeezed through the manhole and onto the ladder. It was a tight fit as at the moment, she was huge, well over three metres high and with a girth that meant she had to wiggle to get through.

“I did. Honestly, dear,” he grumbled. “I am not an amateur.”

“What about the emergency power? Shouldn’t it have kicked in?” she said as climbed down.

“It did. I turned it off to save it for an emergency. Though, I dare say your fussing is an emergency enough.”

Touya had heard about the hero team Water Hose but meeting them was an… uncomfortable experience. They had spent the car ride over bombarding him with stories of their son Izumi Kouta while shoving photos in his face. The present situation was no less bizarre. A strange mix of an equipment check, an argument and...flirting?

If Aizawa hadn't vouched for their effectiveness, he'd have written them off as entirely cutesy fluff and refused to work with them. As things stood, they still made him feel like his skin was too tight and so he sped up his pace down the walkway next to the water and towards their destination. 

The sewer was a storm sewer opposed to one that dealt human waste. That didn’t mean that it was pleasant as a city’s worth of filth was swept through it.

Grimacing, he pulled the collar of his dark blue duster up and over his mouth and nose. Whatever had made it palatable in the darkness had disappeared with it. In the dark, the sewer had had a noir mystique to it. In the glow of his flames, it retained none of the charm. Twice Touya felt something go squish under his foot. The first time it was the bloated corpse of a rat. The second time, he looked down to find something covered in fuzzy mold leaking orange goop unto his sky blue boot.

Dammit. He liked these boots. 

About a few minutes later, he was at his destination, a large pipe running along the wall. It was oddly situated with half its diameter buried in the wall itself and the rest jutting into the sewer. The cement encasing it looked fresh compared to the rest.

The sight of Iida Tensei, the Engine Hero Ingenium, guarding the pipe, was surreal. He looked out of place in the muck. Despite the low ceilings making Touya unconsciously hunch, Ingenium stood tall and defiant in the gloom. 

A pang struck Touya in the chest. Shouto would have loved him. Not that his little brother would have been obvious about it. Back in the day, Endeavor had brought him and Shouto to pro-hero gatherings for publicity purposes. As Touya had been an old pro by the time Shouto had started coming, he had spent the bulk of the time babysitting.

Much to Endeavor’s annoyance, Shouto had proven shy of strangers and would spend the bulk of it hiding behind Touya. And the ones he had actually liked? Shouto would become even more shy. More than once Touya had ended up stumbling because Shouto would spot a hero he admired and fasten himself onto his older brother’s leg like a koala.

Ingenium's armour wasーand Touya had no clue how the hell he had managed itーstill clean and shiny, its angles scattering the light of Touya’s flames and those on his helmet in such a way that there were little spotlights dotting the walls.

Yeah, Touya thought as he felt the phantom sensation of two little limbsーone hot, one coldーwrapping tightly around his thigh, Shouto would have loved him.

“So?” Touya asked as Mister and Missus joined them.

“I’ve already scouted the tunnel,” Ingenium answered. “No one is here but us. The Crawler is in position with intel. So is everyone ready to go?”

The members of Water Hose were silent, their earlier silliness replaced by thin lips and calculating eyes. They and Touya nodded, and Ingenium reached out to the pipe and knocked a brisk pattern: R-E-A-D-Y-?

After an unsettling minute, the reply came: G-O.

Touya stepped forward. The flames in Touya’s hand condensed into a single point in his palm which then slid onto the tip of his pointer finger. He pressed against the pipe’s surface.  “Look away,” he warned the others and, after a breath, condensed it even more. Blue turned to violet as the fire narrowed into a hissing cone. Light from fire this intense could damage eyes, and while Touya’s goggles safeguarded his, the others had no such protection. 

He used it as an improvised blowtorch. Soon liquid metal was dripping down the pipe and not long after, he had had cut into its centre. What should have happened when he pierced the pipe was for them to get sprayed with liquid of dubious origins. It would have happened too, but at the first bubble of liquid, Mister raised one hand and made a shoving motion, stopping it. 

He held this position while Touya cut out a large panel of metal. When Touya was finished and the panel clattered to the ground, Mister pushed the water back up the pipe leaving it empty, allowing Touya to cut another panel through it’s other side.

The second panel fell away and the dark brown eyes of the Crawler peered back at them.

“Everyone there?” he asked.

“Yes,” Ingenium said. “Give us an update?”

“I looped all the cameras I found. About six in total,” the Crawler reported.

In his All Might hoodie and motorcycle gear, the Crawler was the most casually dressed of them.  Technically, he shouldn’t have been there in the first place. Technically, Touya should arrest him. The Crawler was a vigilante not a hero.

Touya should have cared about that and in fact he did. The Crawler had Ingenium’s recommendation, and apparently he knew the building and the gang using it. Thus, Touya cared so much that he was going to stand there with his hands stuffed in his duster and listen to everything that the nice criminal said.

“...and so far the security seems lax. There might be...”

Water Hose had the same reaction, though Touya suspected that had more to do with the mission than anything. Once they had heard what it was, it would’ve taken All Might and the rest of the Top Ten to keep them away.

“...haven’t seen any patrols on this level and I overheard the gang complaining about the lack of heaters and lights down here. If there are any, I’d hide them at...”

Criminals that couldn’t bother with a warm coat and that were afraid of the dark? Seemed way too good to be true. 

“...information was right. It’s definitely the Jabba gang. Twenty-three of them, but there might be more I haven’t seen,” the Crawler finished.

With that out of the way, Touya climbed through the pipe into the hallway on the other side. Mister went next. At first glance, one would have thought that Missus with her bulk would never make it through. It didn’t prove a problem. Puckering her lips as if she was about to whistle, a thick stream of water sprayed forth. It travelled through the pipe where Mister caught it forming a globe of water which grew above his right hand, while he held the pipe’s contents in place with his left.

As it grew so did Missus shrink until she was a woman of unremarkable size and was easily able to fit through the pipe to join them. Then her husband sent a stream from the globe back into her mouth and she swelled once more.

The building was known as Carkoon Condo Complex. It had been built about fifty years ago and had been a financial disaster and subsequently abandoned. It shouldn’t have been with its rooftop garden, huge gym and a location with a train station nearby. The building also had a fabulous view of the ocean. The fucking parkade had a fabulous view of the ocean. The condos should have sold within a blink of an eye.

What had killed it was simple: technology. Something about the building’s make made cell and radio signals unreliable, and with modern times, no one could tolerate a home where their cell phones didn’t work. So the condominium had been abandoned shortly after it had been built and left empty ever since.

While they had radios, Ingenium and Touya had decided that they couldn’t rely on them. In its stead, they were counting on speed and stealth as their allies. Given what was at stake, they wanted to avoid direct combat as much as possible.

They had broken into the storage room hallways on P2 of the parkade. One level above, on P1, was the old security office where the bulk of the crooks were supposed to be.

With Water Hose guarding the exit and Ingenium being the exit plan, the Crawler was responsible for getting Touya to their goal. Touya clung to his back as the Crawler used his hands and feet to repel them along the halls.

Every once in a while they had to go left or right, and the Crawler would turn so fast that it felt like his stomach was trying to burst out of his side. The Crawler wasn’t as fast as Ingenium but in tight conditions he was more maneuverable and more importantly considerably quieter. 

Slower it might be, but it took less than a minute for them to arrive at their goal, storage room 0504.

“You sure it’s this one?” he asked the Crawler. 

“Pretty.”

Seemed likely when you compared its door to the other ones. The lock looked new and the hinges and handle were clear of both dust and rust. All signs of recent use. Touya would bet the door was reinforced as well.

He got to work and soon the lock and handle was a cooling pile of slag on the ground. So with the Crawler watching his back, he entered.

The room was pitch black, until Touya lit it up. For one horrible second he thought they got the wrong room, then the darkness shivered and broke apart.

“Hell,” Touya swore while his flames crackled and popped angrily. Hell indeed. For more reasons than one.

The anonymous tip had caused him to expect kids. But teenagers. Not this.

Children. Tiny children huddled in the dark. The oldest maybe seven and the youngest not even three. Their hair was hopelessly matted and their clothes darkened by filth. Their skin, the little of it that was clean, was so very pale.

Without prompting they got up and he realised with horror, they lining themselves up, ready to be poked and prodded as if they were cattle at the market. 

Gently, he placed a hand on the shoulder of the little girl at the front. “It’s okay,” he said. “I am a hero. I am here to help.”

She trembled under his hand but didn’t respond. He assured her again, but was again met with silence.

Her small round eyes were hooded against the lightーhow long had they been down there?ーbut occasionally they’d flash up towards him. Smaller than typical for Japan. He glanced around, taking in the other children’s features. Chins. Noses. Cheeks. 

Shit.

Even before the rise of Quirks, identifying groups by their features, had been complicated. With them, it was worse, but this many in a single room....

“I am here to help,” he said a third time.

Blank expressions.

“I am here to help,” he repeated in Mandarin.

No recognition. No response.

He tried again in English and once again in the broken Danish he had picked up from one of Endeavor’s sidekicks.

Still nothing.

No helping it then. The last one especially had been a long shot. “Hello,” he said in Korean.

That finally got a response. First confusion, no doubt due to his stellar accent, and then understanding.

“Us good,” Touya said, already stretching his limited repertoire.

Mercifully, they seemed to understand. A tiny bit of hope, like a droplet hitting a pond, rippled through the room. Still they held back, afraid to trust to trust him.

A thought crossed his mind. The hallway and room were still mostly dark. His clothes, including the mask and duster, had the occasional lighter highlight, but for the most part, it was all dark blue. Between his clothes causing him to merge with the shadows and the fire in his hand, he must look like some demon. 

“Crawler,” he said “can you try?”

They switched places and the effect was immediate. The little girl’s eyes widened as they fastened to the Crawler’s hoodie. “All Might,” she whispered.

Soon cries of ‘All Might’ echoed throughout the room. Before they knew it, a number of the smaller ones were clinging to the Crawler for dear life. 

It was painful and guilt-inducing but they had to pry the children off the Crawler and shush the hopeful voices. They still needed to get out of there.

They eventually sorted things out. The plan was unchanged, except since there were no teenagers, the Crawler would ferry out two children at a time, using one arm to hold a child against his chest while another held onto his back. He'd take them to the pipe where Ingenium would take them, running them back to the manhole and the waiting police. Meanwhile, the Crawler would be already on his way back for the next two. It was a bucket chain of sorts.

The little girl insisted on going last, pointing at herself and saying ‘big’ and ‘yeong-ung’. Once one of the older children appeared to try to make her go before him, nudging her forward. She had responded by thrusting out her jaw and literally kicking him in the direction of the Crawler.

After that the operation went smoothly and soon the Crawler had touted both Touya and the girl back to the pipe.

She seemed confused when she saw the heroes, wrinkling her brow as she examined them one by one. When Touya tried to pass her to Ingenium, she clasped his duster with a death grip and started babbling.

The wave of Korean threatened to drown him and he glanced at his teammates, hoping one of them could make heads or tails of it. But at their blank looks, it was apparent that none of them had taken Korean as an elective; so he gritted his teeth and dove back in.

He caught the words ‘one’, ‘big’, ‘yellow’ and ‘mean’ all in quick succession then repeated him until she was satisfied that he had gotten the message. Then, the determined expression back on her face, pointed at them with a comment of ‘yeong-ung’ and at the door leading into P2 of the parkade. 

He had no idea what she meant by ‘yellow’, but ‘one’, ‘mean’ and ‘big’? He could make something of that. ‘One’ no doubt meant one of something and ‘mean’ was likely the kidnappers. Now the word ‘big’ was being used by a kid that insisted that even older children got rescued before her…

He turned to his teammates. “I think there’s still a teenager here,” he said.

“You sure?” asked Mister.

“Yes,” Touya lied. Sure, that if there was a ghost of a chance that a kid was still being held here, he’d go after them and drag them with him.

Ingenium tilted his head and mulled over the problem for a minute.

“Touya,” he finally said, “take Water Hose and wait here for five minutes. By then Crawler and I will have gotten the girl to safety and will be providing a distraction in the lobby.” 

The girlーapparently sensing the change in atmosphereーreleased her grip on Touya and allowed herself to be passed through the pipe to the safety of Ingenium’s arms. In an instant he was gone with the Crawler on his heels. 

Removing some filler wire from a duster pocket, Touya combined it with his improvised torch and got to the business of welding the pipe back together. He wanted both members of Water Hose with him, and he didn’t want the storage rooms flooding, bringing unwanted attention downward.

He finished the sewer-side panel.

One minute.

He finished the other panel.

Two minutes.

Mister stretched his hands while Missus ran a slim finger along her lips. 

Three minutes.

Touya removed a water bottle from his coat and guzzled the contents.

Four minutes.

They waited in silence. 

At five minutes, right on the dot, Ingenium’s Recipro Burst boomed from upstairs and they moved.

The Crawler’s intelligence proved solid. P2 of the parkade was empty.

They found a staircase and climbed to P1. Once again, the Crawler was on point. There was thin light coming from a window in the main building, the word ‘Security’ emblazoned above it. Keeping their heads low, they moved towards it. 

Then, just like that, everything changed. The door next to the security room was made of metal and glass reinforced with wire. Through it Touya could make a figure in the hallway beyond. A figure that was heading towards the door and out towards them. Touya recognized him: Shriek, a reedy bottom-feeder who often worked as a lookout. Apparently selling drugs to kids had been too moral for him so he had taken to selling the kids instead.

No cover nearby. No time to find it and Shriek had a sound-based Quirk not unlike Present Mic. If he saw them and had time to speak, the jig would be up.

“Missus, take him,” Touya ordered.

She needed no more prompting, pursing her lips as if she found Shriek mildly disagreeable. Would’ve been funny if it hadn’t been for what came next. A jet of water that would have made a firehose blush flew from her mouth, knocking the door off its hinges and into Shriek, sending him tumbling to the ground.

Touya sprinted forward, and, with his arms braced behind his back, he released gouts of flame from both hands, launching him through the air and on top of Shriek, slamming a hand over his mouth.

“Where. Is. The. Kid?” he demanded, enunciating each syllable with deadly accuracy. “Not the little ones. The teenager.”

Shriek shook his head in denial.

"Where? ” Touya hissed. This time he moved his free hand so Shriek had a clear view of it and the azure sparks dancing within.

Touya could feel the shiver of Shriek’s body and he could hear the thin whistling sound of Shriek desperately trying to breathe. “Don’t talk,” he said. “Point.”

A shaky arm pointed down a corridor to the left.

“Thank you,” Touya said, extinguished the sparks and then punched him hard in the head.

Touya and Water Hose moved on, only pausing only to slap a pair of suppression cuffs onto the now unconscious Shriek. Maybe the noise would cause the crooks to investigate. Maybe they would think the noise came from upstairs. Either way, they weren’t going to wait to find out.

Finding the other criminals proved laughably easy. Their voices were loud and full of panic, and they followed their shouting to a door labeled ‘Break Room’.

“Did you bring them?”

“Can you call them off?”

“What’s your connection to the Crawler?”

Then a calmer voice cut through the cacophony. “Look retards. Even you should be able to tell I got nothing to do with thisー” it said. Young. Male. Jackpot.

Touya mouthed the word ‘again’ at Missus, and crossed his fingers that the kid wouldn’t be in the way. 

“ーcause if it was me, my foot would be in your faces and my explosions up your asー”

The door exploded into the room. It hadn’t hit the crooks, but it hadn’t hit the kid either, a teenager with spiky blond hair. He was off to the side with suppression cuffs holding his arms behind his back and ropes binding him to a chair. At the sight of the heroes, he bared his teeth at his captors and said, “You assholes are fucked.”

They went to work.

Missus spat out water in tiny bullets. Her aim was excellent, striking at hands so crooks would drop weapons, at ankles and knees to knock them down, or in the stomach to knock the breath out of their lungs. Sometimes, if a number of them were grouped together, she’d let out one large blast which would slam all of them into the wall.

Mister lacked his wife’s firepower but made up for it in finesse. With only a litre or so of her liquid ammunition, he could cause chaos. While the criminals focused on her, a deep puddle would slide under their feet causing them to slip, or a mask of water would cover their eyes, hopelessly blurring their vision. In one extreme case where a man was shooting razor-sharp fingernails at them, a large bubble of water surrounded his head, drowning him until he passed out. 

Dangerous alone, together they seemed unstoppable. Mister would constantly redirect the water she had used back to his wife so her reservoir was never empty. Sometimes she would make a gesture and he would cause her jet of water to split, allowing her to hit multiple targets. Other times it would widen or tighten the stream.

There was one criminal, a woman wielding knives. She had a flexibility Quirk and had managed to dodge everything that they had sent at her, her ragdoll limbs moving in impossible directions as she advanced on them, knives gleaming. Then Missus made a short downward gesture and aimed a jet at her head.

The criminal dipped downward, easily evading it until Mister made the same gesture and above the criminal, the jet made a ninety degree turn down, ramming her into the ground and out of the fight.

Contrary to popular belief, the reason Mister and Missus worked as a team had nothing to do with them being married.

Touya, for his part, played assistant. Water could be nasty but people didn’t have the same visceral reaction to it as they did fire. Spreading his fingers, he set them alight and so reached out with ten tendrils of flame.

Blue fire was over a thousand degrees celcius and much hotter than its commoner brethren. Most criminals only had to see the tendrils or feel the heat wafting off them to decide being pounded by water was preferable. And the other ones?

A high pitched scream rang through the air and Touya grinned.

Not a popular choice.

And like a demented shepherd Touya used them to drive the sheep into Water Hose’s jaws.

Touya did do one other thing. Once the criminals were away from the kid with his tendrils barring the way,  he sent a slash of flames at the ropes holding the kid to the chair. Freed, the kid could get away from the danger. Maybe get behind him and Water Hose or off to theー

The teenager jumped onto the chair and used it to launch himself up and over Touya’s tendrils and into the fray. 

What? Had he really? Was he mad? Suicidal? Both?

Eventually, sense trickled back into Touya’s brain and he came up with the following plans:

1. Continue to support his teammates. Sooner the battle was over, the safer the kid would be.
2. Use his tendrils to drive the criminals away from the kid.
3. Demand the kid get the hell out of there.

There was only one problem with all of them, but by the time that they occurred to him, Touya was already neck-deep in the action. Somewhere between ‘What?’ and ‘Both?’, his brain had shut off and his legs had switched on. 

Great. Just great.

With Touya now considerably closer, the criminals lost their earlier caution towards his flame. Stupid that, but Touya liked stupid. He let a light blue sheen surround his hands, grabbed one man by the arm, searing the flesh, and flipped him over his shoulder. Between the pain of hitting the floor and the pain of the burn, he was completely unprepared to protect himself from Touya’s brutal kick.

In the midst of the chaos, the radio managed to pass a garbled but understandable message from Ingenium which stated that he and the Crawler had subdued all the criminals upstairs. At least that he didn’t have to worry at that.

Touya couldn’t go too crazy with the ridiculous kid in the way so he stuck to the martial arts. Tai-Chi, jiu-jitsu, karate. Touya flowed between forms, enhancing them with the demanding pain of fire. Even a light touch could be enough for a criminal to lose all concentration and give Touya an opening to exploit. 

All the while, he kept an eye on the teenager. Touya, Mister and Missus had all shouted at him a few times to get to safety but were ignored. He was either deaf, idiot or crazy. Maybe all three. But the blond did have some skills. Even Quirk-suppressed and arms cuffed behind his back, he bobbed and weaved through his enemies, lashing out with both legs. One time, there was a sickening crunch as a criminal’s knee was kicked inward. Another time, a large man came up behind him, only for the kid to jump, causing the metallic cuffs to drive into his crotch.

Finally, there was only one criminal left who, when she noticed her bleeding, burned and unconscious comrades, fell to her knees with her hands up.

They fell into procedure after that. Suppression cuffs were slapped on and the criminals were dragged into the parkade proper to await the police. They managed to find a light switch that lit up the entirety of the parkade, saving them some headaches. All boring stuff though it was made considerably more interesting by the female criminal who had taken to babbling incessantly.

“I am sorry. I didn’t mean it!” she said for the fiftieth time. 

This would have been more effective if she wasn’t wearing a shirt that said ‘Born to Beat $%*@ Out of People’.

“I guess I had the wrong address, and once I got here, it was dark out and I am afraid of the dark.” 

That last part might actually be true.

“I had no clue who you were! And the others… they forced me. Totally threatened with guns and stuff… and (oh, yeah) they threatened my friends, my parents, and my many, many much-loved kids,” she continued. “This is all just a big misunderー” 

A foot slammed into her face. Apparently, the kid had meant his earlier statement.

“Whoa. Whoa!” Mister said and put himself between the kid and his next target. “You can’t walk around doing that.”

“And why the fuck not?” the kid demanded.

“They’re surrendering.”

The blond looked unimpressed. 

“You hit a lady?” Mister added hopefully.

The blond looked even less impressed and Mister looked helplessly over at Touya, imploring him for aid. 

Personally Touya thought Mister had an interesting definition of ‘lady’. The woman trafficked children. Personally, the woman could have been a cherub with kitten ears and adorable puppy eyes and she would still be one of the lowest scum to walk the earth. 

Still, the kid was young and there were some things he should never face, so Touya stepped forward and put a hand on his shoulder. “They’ve surrendered. You don’t want to do this.”

The kid ripped out of his grip, angling his body so that his face was centimetres from his own. “What!? These fuckers deserve it!”

“Yeah, they do but you don’t. You do this. You get hurt. There are reasons we hold back.” At this, Mister beamed at Touya and began to bow at him.

“Like what!? Am I supposed to lose sleep over hurting these assholes?” 

“Like paperwork,” Touya said. “Mountains and mountains of paperwork.” He had lost plenty of sleep to the stuff. There was one guy who had developed a cold sore in his custody, and Touya had to fill out three hours of the stuff because someone thought that he had punched the guy in the mouth. 

Mister froze mid-bow. “That is not a good reason.” He turned to his wife. “Nagasa, a little help here?”

Missus, who had been eyeing the criminal with a glint that indicated that she too wanted to stomp some heads, seemed puzzled by her husband’s complaint but, at his glare, said, "Yes, of course. The reason we don’t do such things is because of morality,”ーshe aimed a stern (and paper-thin) look at Touyaー"and to set a good example for the innocent children.”

Mister spluttered at the sarcasm, causing Touya to smirk and Missus to chuckle. Meanwhile, the resident ‘innocent’ child glared at them all as if the sum of all teenage surliness flowed through his veins. This in turn proved too much for even Mister’s sense of propriety and he let out a big belly laugh.

The building shook, popping the bubble of levity, and Ingenium’s strained voice buzzed in their ears, “ ...Villain....ss A. Busted through the wall… out. NOW!“ The sound of Ingenium’s Recipro Burst boomed in the background.

The contents of Touya’s stomach boiled and seized the kid and sliced through his cuffs. The kid let out a growl of pain. Of course it hurt, the cuffs were metal and easily conducted heat to his skin. But right now? Touya did not give a single crap. Once they were off him, Touya shoved him in the direction of the exit. 

“Villain in the building,” Touya said to him. “The police are ten blocks east of here, near Durga train station. Go!”

“Hell no, I owe these fuー”

Touya shoved him again. “The kids are there. The police do not know. Tell them to get out of here. Now!”

The kid stared at him with feral intensity, and for a moment, Touya thought he would have to have Missus blast him out of the building. Then he spat to the side, and ran full tilt towards the exit.

A shriek came from the radio followed by the voice of the Crawler. “...genium... down. Big. Strength quirk…”

Then he too went silent.

Again the building shook and, about metre from where they stood, the ceiling caved in. Concrete, rebar and dust fell to the floor along with a huge figure.

He landed heavily, falling onto his hands and knees. He was unperturbed by it though, raising his head, basking in the still falling dust as if it was the water of a warm shower.

As he gained his feet, it became apparent that he was hurt. There was a circular wound on one cheek that went clear through his skin, revealing the fat below, and shards of glass peppered his face.

This too did not bother him. 

His tongue idly played with one shard embedded just above his lips before he pulled it out. The lower half of the shard was painted with blood and he seemed fascinated by the red liquid, reverently stroking along the boundary where it met the clean glass.

Then, he finally noticed his audience and smiled at them so widely that his cheeks threatened to rip.

Touya recognized him. His poster often leered at him from its position on his office wall. Class A villain. Heroes only to approach with extreme caution. And excessive backup. 

“So you’ve seen mine,” the villain said and offered the bloody shard to them as if it was a gift. “Will you show me yours?”

And with that, Muscular charged.

Chapter Text

The Blood We Share

Chapter 3

“Aren’t you supposed to take care of us? That's your job, right?”

Muscular charged.

Touya’s mind raced. Enhancement quirk. Able to produce additional muscular tissue for increased strength. And speed too, he thought, because as Muscular charged and his already large figure grew, he accelerated towards them.

Mister grabbed his wife’s water reservoir and tossed her out of the way before dodging himself. 

Move you idiot! Touya screamed at himself before blasting himself to the side. Just in time as he could feel the tremble of his trenchcoat as Muscular brushed it 

He cartwheeled end over end, the speed and madness of it nearly causing him to scrape his head on the pavement. Taking control, he tucked in his limbs, felt the rhythm beyond the chaos, timed it and then twisted to land in a crouch. 

He came up with flame sheathing his hands, and eyes narrowed only to find Muscular had come to a stop in front of the criminals. They watched him nervously, a herd of wild animals meeting a person for the first time, and shivered as one when Muscular reached down and plucked up the groggy Shriek by the back of his shirt.

“Wakey, wakey,” he said, and shook the criminal like a sleepy child.

This cured Shriek of his grogginess and, opening his eyes, took in Muscular, let out a little squeal and shut them tight.

“That’s rude,” the villain complained and shook him again, this time like a dog with a chew toy.

Shriek relented and peered up at him, his limbs trembling. “S-s-sorry,” he stuttered.

“That’s better. Now I was told you have something for me.”

“Yes... I do.” For the first time since he awoke, Shirek seemed aware of his surroundings, taking in his friends bound, burned and bleeding and the heroes beyond them. “Th-th-the–” he began.

“Th-th-the–” Muscular mocked.

Shriek’s gaze narrowed as he spotted Touya, his stutter vanishing. “The heroes took the kid from me. They took him from you. They took him from us. ”

“Is that so?” Muscular said.

“Can you stop them?” Shriek asked.

Muscular surreptitiously glanced over his shoulder and winked at Touya as if they shared a secret. “Sure, of course,” he said and, smiling magnanimously at Shriek, patted him on the shoulder.

A tentative smile worked its way on Shriek’s face. “Thank you.”

Touya and Muscular did share a secret because Touya, in that moment, knew exactly what was coming next. 

There was a crunch, a squish, and Shriek’s body fell on the ground with a wet slap, the smile still glued to his face.

There was silence then twin gagging noises from Water Hose. As for the criminals? Shriek’s quirk may have been a sound one, but even it would have had a hard time matching the panicked screams of the criminals.

Carkoon Condo Complex had a lovely view. Situated on a cliff you could see the bay dappled with boat lights. The parkade’s north side was open air, blocked only by a half-wall and railing, meaning one could see the lovely view and the five story drop below it.

Muscular casually plucked up two more criminals and introduced them to it.

In the ocean of chaos, Touya was an island, calmly considering the situation. Human traffickers were scum. Child traffickers were worse. Their victims would be forced into gangs, worked to death in sweatshops and exploited in brothels. And the crooks? They’d sleep like the children they had destroyed. 

They were rats. Why not let the mad dog end them?

A jet of water hit Muscular in the ribs. Then another in the back. Then five of them surrounded Muscular in a cage. Whenever he focused on one, the others would move in and pound him like boxers hitting him from multiple sides.

The pounding snapped Touya out of his lethargy and into sense. Yes, they were rats. Yes, they deserved a level of punishment that not even Muscular could dish out. But they could be useful. Know all the little pathways through the maze of the underworld. They could tell him who they were working for, who their clients were and help him to rescue the children they had sold.

Water Hose was distracting the villain, so he focused on evacuating. Most of the crooks seemed to be doing fine, already most of them had scrambled to their feet and had started towards the exit ramp. That left three. Three unconscious and the one with the broken leg.

The latter actually had another criminal helping him up. Seriously? Compassion for other scum while children were fair game. Go figure. He started there, grabbing a running criminal by the collar, dragging him toward the two. 

“Link hands,” he ordered the able-bodied crooks. “Make a chair. Let him”—he gestured to the one with the broken leg—“sit on it and get out of here. We’ll distract him.”

All three criminals stared at him dumbfounded.

“Do it,” he hissed.

This time they did so, then continued to stare as if they couldn’t believe what he was doing. 

Well, welcome to the club , Touya thought and tossed sparks at their feet to get them moving. 

The four unconscious crooks were a problem and the quick solution was a nasty one. Touya’s fiery tendrils reached out and seared each of them on the stomach. There were cries of pain but it did the job.

“Get out of here!” Touya yelled. “You’re in danger.”

Unfortunately, they recognized him, saw Water Hose fighting Muscular, and completely failed to notice their fleeing colleges. So they started jeering at him.

“Yeah, right!”

“Fucking caped pig. Hey muscle guy, kick this one’s ass next! ”

“We ain’t no idiots!” 

“If we’re in danger, you’re Endeav—”

A fireball the size of a basketball whizzed past his head. A second narrowly missed the behind of the one was definitely an idiot.

Touya allowed his flames to swirl around his hands and shifted his arms so he was obviously aiming between their legs. He smiled rictusly at his audience. The audience who proceeded to stampede after their friends

Finally. Good timing too.

“Touya-san, cover!” Mister shouted and Touya realized Missus was almost normal size. Keeping Muscular underwraps had drained her reservoir and there hadn’t been any time to refill.

Time for some defence. He spread arms and waves of flame burst from them, bombarding the wall on either side of Muscular. Touya breathed deeply, and the distance between waves shortened until he had two unbroken walls of flame, putting him at the head of a deadly triangle. 

Muscular cocked his head like a bird as he examined him. Apparently he liked what he saw because he beamed at Touya. “And here I thought you were ignoring me,” he said, his eyes greedily taking in the flames as if he could consume them and Touya both. “And after I offered you such a nice gift… Oh, isthat it? You didn’t want to share with those two?” He reached up to touch a shard protruding from his eyebrow. “If you’d like, I can give you some blood of your very own.”

Hell no. Touya used a couple fingers to keep a good plume of fire in front of himself, barring Muscular from view.

It was quickly becoming tough work. There wasn’t much fuel other than dust and the odd piece of garbage. Nothing to help him keep up this level of effort. Already Touya could feel the telltale prickle on his palms and the backs of his hands. Keeping this up could cost him. 

Okay then, decrease the effort. Just make it look the same. Thin out the wall. As long as it looked dangerous, it should do the job.

In the corner of his eye, Mister was sweeping his hands side to side over the wet parkade floor, drawing in more liquid with each pass. The globe he had built up was getting pretty big so soon Water Hose would be back in action. 

A memory niggled at Touya. Mister had used a smaller globe to drown the guy with the fingernails. Why not do the same with Muscular?

Obviously, because drowning could kill. Because Mister didn’t think it was necessary. Because he and Missus had been able to hold him off. Because…

“He’s toying with us!” Touya shouted.

As if waiting for a cue, the flames protecting Touya lowered just enough for a silhouette to become visible. A growing silhouette. Shit.

Touya blasted himself to the side just in time to dodge a thick arm smashing through the flames and gouging a hole in the pavement.

Before the villain’s muscles had huge, now he looked grotesquely so and still he continued to grow. He bulged outward and when it looked like he could get no larger lest he burst through his skin, something new happened. Pink strips of flesh slid out of his joints. Worm-like, the new muscles wriggled along his body, wrapping around limbs, torso and neck. A number of them around his head stayed loose, dancing around it, periodically reaching down to stroke his face like a lover. A halo belonging to the damned.

He charged at Touya, and once more he had to blast himself out of the way. And then again. And again. And again. Despite his size, Muscular was terrifyingly agile. He would pass Touya by metres, stop, sight him, and then spring in his direction. All within the space of half a second. 

Meanwhile, Touya had problems. Parkades were known for their height restrictions and if he got the angle wrong, he could very well crash into the ceiling. He had hit him multiple times with fire; and while it did do damage, no sooner had he destroyed one muscle than a new one slid out to replace it. He tried aiming for the head, but that too proved fruitless. For as soon as the flames closed in, that halo of muscles formed a dome over his head, protecting him.

A sustained blast would work. Unfortunately that required the bastard to stop charging at him.

Finally, he got a bit of luck. He spied an old unemptied trash can and sent a stream down through the top and into its belly. It distorted then exploded, sending plastic pieces and black acrid smoke everywhere.

He used the cover to dash towards Water Hose. He found Mister, the red and white of his costume barely visible in the smoke.

“Have a plan?” Mister asked, forehead furrowed as he pulled more and more water into his control.

“Drop him off the building. I position him. You two hit him,” Touya said. “Time until refill?”

“Thirty seconds,” said Mister, scowling at the smoke. That junk mixing with the water was playing merry hell with his control.

Touya gave a curt nod. Once away, he sprayed sparks in every direction. Their light was just enough to pierce the smoke and he watched carefully for any that stopped too soon. 

There. Back and to the right. He threw himself into a forward roll. He sent out more sparks. There. On the left. He moved again. 

The sparks also had the side effect of telling Muscular where he was. But that was good. Have him focus on Touya. Not Water Hose. And not the fact that he was getting closer and closer to the parkade balcony. 

He and the villain danced together. Touya felt rather than saw his partner. The thunder of his feet against the pavement. The breeze of his passing. The only sights to be had were Touya’s little fireflies whisking through the dark.

How close were they now? He thought it was about five metres. But what if it was ten? Five? One? What if he had gotten turned around and was going in the wrong directions? What if he was too close and in dodging launched himself off the balcony and into the abyss? He couldn’t worry about that now. A few more dodges later, he realised that he didn’t have to.

The smoke began to dissipate, the parkade lights shining through, and there only a breath away was the balcony. 

It seemed like child’s play to dodge Muscular now. Going back and forth, throwing fire at his head to keep the muscles of his halo up and blocking his vision. Keeping him focused on Touya alone.

Arrogance. The next time Touya dodged, Muscular threw out an arm, clotheslining Touya so he tumbled over it into the half-wall. By the time he twisted to see his opponent, Muscular was bearing down on him. 

Water Hose struck. A jet of water hit him in the side, so he crashed into the half-wall beside Touya. Then Muscular made the mistake of lowering the halo to see his attackers and the jet split into five, two driving into his eyes, two more up his nose and the last working its way down his throat. 

Muscular rose, clutching the half-wall’s railing for support, and the halo of muscles once more contracted to block Water Hose’s attack. It also blocked his view of Touya whose fingers were also touching the metallic railing. And metal was an excellent conductor.

Heat surged through it, turning the railing red. Then white.

Muscular growled, snatching his hands back, while Touya dropped down and grabbed a leg and poured flame in. Off balance and in pain, he wasn’t ready for Water Hose’s next attack. This jet flew towards his gut and at the last second, curved upward to strike him under the ribs.

Muscular fell back and over the railing, and before Touya could sigh in relief, a single muscle snaked up, grabbing him by the ankle, and pulled him with him.

Shear panic saved his life. His hands were still boiling hot, and terror made them even more so, so as he clawed at P1’s wall, the concrete melted and his fingers sunk in. The sudden stop caused the muscle to snap, leaving Touya shaking as he clung to the wall.

“Touya?” Mister’s face peeked over the railing and he leaned down, reaching for him.

Even though his arms ached, the concept of letting go with even one of them seemed utterly alien.

“Touya? Todoroki Touya, look at me,” Mister said gently. “You’ll be safe. I’ll make sure of it. Just take my hand.”

Mister eyes were the colour of cherry tree bark and his grip as solid as steel. Slowly and surely, he pulled Touya up. Then there’s a crunch sound and a piece of concrete whizzed past Touya’s ear and hit Mister in the temple, causing him to slump forward and down.

Touya barely managed to hold onto him. The shock of the sudden weight nearly ripping him from the wall and caused his arms to go from aching to trembling with effort. The strain on his shoulder had caused him to look dowwards. There just under the P2 balcony, Muscular hung. He had driven a hand into the wall using shear power, and in the other he held pieces of concrete that he had ripped from the building’s side.

“Mizu!” came Missus’ voice, but no sooner did she appear at the railing than another missile was launched, narrowly missing her.

No help from that corner. No climbing up with Mister. That left down.

He focused on his handhold. Soon it began to warm under his hand, then soften and bit by bit, they slid downward towards the gap leading into P2. Meanwhile, Missus continued to distract Muscular. She was at a bad angle to hit him; best she could do was give him a few glancing blows before being forced to dodge.

When there was only a small space between his hand and the P2 balcony, Touya swung them back and forth. Once. Twice. On the third time, he let go, launching them into the parkade. As they fell, old lessons kicked in, and he drew Mister towards him

Touya felt his left foot hit the floor, but he didn’t try to land on his feet. Instead he protected Mister’s head with his arms and tucked his own in, pushing against the ground just enough to guide them into a barrel roll. 

When they finally stopped, he realised that he was back where he started. The storage room is to his right and—fuck his life—Muscular had managed to smash through the P2 hall's wall and dragged himself in.

Touya pulled Mister up and into a fireman’s carry and headed for the out ramp. This was aborted when another missile crashed to the ground in front of it and another when he went toward the stairway up to P1. 

He was not charging though and he limped badly. The damage had added up. Charred flesh marked his palms and the calf of his right leg was nearly seared to the bone. His left eye is so red that Touya doubted he could see out of it, and dead muscles hung from his body like stray threads on an old suit.

He still had that damnable halo up and ready to protect his head, and despite all his injuries, he was still smiling at Touya as if they were long lost friends. 

But it’s something and Touya could work with it.

The monster was determined that they wouldn’t leave, blocking his every attempt to get to an exit. Using rock and rebar to enforce his opinion. So the obvious ones were out that left the pipe and he hauled them into the storage hallway.

Problem was that if they did go that way, he bet that Muscular would just rip his way through the wall and into the sewer to go after them. Not a lot of room to maneuver in the sewer, made even harder if he was carrying Mister. 

Touya tried to wake the hero like he had the criminal, burning him lightly on the arm, but the man didn't even twitch. 

All along, Muscular had been toying with them. That was what he had been doing at the beginning and that was what he was still doing. He liked to play with his food. Touya had been wrong. Muscular wasn't a dog at all. He was a cat playing with a mouse. Cats liked to play with their food. One would catch mouse, then release it, only to catch it again. As long as the ice could run, could scream, the game was fun.

He headed to the third storage room on the left and cut out the lock. A neat job this time as the less noticeable the better. Kicking the door open, he stashed Mister in a corner, using some old moving boxes to obscure him. Then he shut the door and slid the lock back in, hoping it wasn’t too obvious. 

Mister couldn’t run, couldn’t scream. Thus boring. Touya could. Thus fun. So let the psychotic cat chase him. 

The pipe proved painfully slow without Mister to hold the water back. The metal didn’t heat up nearly as fast with running water on the other side, cooling it. He had barely finished the first cut, causing a bare trickle of water to run out, when the shriek of metal reached his ears. 

Touya doesn’t wait, and two thick streams of fire raced towards Muscular, but the beast just casually raised the hallway door and batted them away. Streams three and four met the same fate. Number five was knocked into a storage room near Mister’s. Something in there had to be flammable as smoke began to seep into the hall. 

Great. Just great. First he had to deal with there not being enough fuel for his fire. Now he had to worry about setting everything on fire.

He dashed further into the storage area and took the first left.

He was definitely not the old man when it came to being fireproof, but he was better than most. And in this costume, he stood a good chance. Muscular meanwhile had proven annoyingly durable, so he’d probably survive if only to give Touya a migraine. But Mister unconscious and in a room full of cardboard boxes?

So no more big blasts at Muscular. Wasn’t that wonderful?

Touya had studied the schematics. Past the entry hall, the storage area was a six by six grid with four rooms per square. If he drew Muscular in far enough, he could double back, grab Mister and exit through the parkade. With the bastard’s leg messed up, he had the speed advantage.

“I gotta thank you for the game of tag,” Muscular said conversationally. “Super fun. And now hide-and-go-seek? I’m getting awful spoiled.”

It was going ‘well’, Touya thought as he twisted last minute to avoid a chunk of rock the size of his head and turned right. The big guy was not especially quiet, Touya could hear the scratch of his bad leg dragging along the floor. 

“But I betcha you’re getting real tired now. So I was thinkin’ we oughta get ta the gift exchange.”

There was a crunch and a loud rumble as everything shook.

“I already did with that guy. He gave me a could drops of blood out on a balcony. Real romantic like.”

Plus the way he refilled his ammunition was far from subtle.

“And that lady friend of his? She was super generous. She gave me a whole puddle ta splash in.”

When had that— No. Focus. Missus was a hero. If she was dead, too bad so sad. Right now, he had to focus on the living.

Muscular was nearing the back left of the storage rooms and now there was water covering the floor. Steadily increasing from a light film covering the floor to ankle-depth. The pipe’s leak had gotten worse and he was not going to be able stay quiet with this on the ground.

Screw subtlety. He began running for the exit, throwing out the occasional blast for speed, or one to the side to help him corner, each time leaving sizzling water in his wake. In less than a second, he should be at the—

The way was blocked. Huge pieces of debris fill the hallway. Only a small hole allowed a view of the world beyond and the alluring exit sign.

There was nowhere that he could go. Running around in circles until exhausted? Hell no. 

So instead he stared at the water flowing through cracks in the debris, memorizing the alternating pattern of light and heavy flows. The water level continued to rise, now at almost at his knee, and it felt good, drawing away a sliver of his ever present heat. 

“Finally,” Muscular said. “Gotta admit: ya gave me quite a chase. But the game's over now.” He prowled down the hall in front of the former exit, a piece of concrete the size of a boulder in one hand and his door-shield in the other. For all his injuries, he walked toward Touya like a celebrity on the red carpet, utterly confident in his power. “I win.”

A bloody shard landed at Touya feet with a splash.

Muscular clapped like an excited child. “Time for the gift exchange.” A stray muscle stroked the eyebrow where the shard had been taken from. It bled freely now, dripping down to frame the red eye.

When Touya failed to pick the shard, Muscular sniffed. “After all the trouble I went through to give it to you,” he said as if Touya were a spoiled child sticking his nose up at a heartfelt gift. “Well, can’t go ‘round rewarding selfishness”—he idly tossed the boulder up and down as if it were a baseball—"so I’ll be having my gift now."  

Touya wasn’t running now. Wasn’t fighting either. Wasn’t especially interesting.

Muscular’s gaze strayed to the pattern of the water flow behind him. A very specific pattern of flow. A pattern like Morse code.

Of all the lessons Todoroki Touya had learned, there was one that was drilled in especially deep. So much so that violating it went against his every instinct. No matter how angry. No matter how scared. No matter how hurt. You never ever–

Touya screamed and Muscular’s gaze snapped back to him.

“Missus, now!” Touya shouted and threw himself out of the way as the blockade flew at Muscular, striking everywhere at once, and behind it all a surge of water as large as a man.

Touya found Missus standing in the remnants of the debris, her battered right arm hanging limp by her side. Beside her, a long rebar piece was jammed into the cut in the pipe, levering it further open so it let out a veritable geyser of water, the letting it close, lower the flow rate. Together they had allowed her to make a rudimentary morse code, allowed her to silently communicate with Touya. Clever woman.

At the back of the storage area, Muscular was buried under the debris but was surely, steadily digging himself out.

“Missus, with one arm, can you get Mister out of here?” Touya asked, gesturing to the correct storage room.

“For him, I could damn well do it with one finger,” she declared. “You got this?”

“The bastard will be a fish in a barrel.”

She grinned at this, the sharpness of her smile a stark contrast to her worn eyes.

When the splash of her footsteps faded, he turned to Muscular. The bastard was partially free, an arm and his head. “Like a fish in a barrel, eh?” Muscular said. He had somehow managed to hold onto the door—because of course the asshole couldn’t make this easy—and was ready to block.

“Nah,” Touya drawled as fire surrounded his hands. “More like a crab in a pot.”

The fire lanced out and straight into the water.

The effect was immediate, bubbles furiously formed and popped, letting out plumes of steam. 

The steam didn’t care about Muscular’s shield. It easily flew around it. It didn’t care about the muscles that strengthened and protected him. It boiled them and slipped through their gaps to attack the vulnerable flesh below. It drifted in and up to sear the inside of his nose. And when he opened his mouth to scream, the steam burnt his tongue and throat.

Even as Touya boiled it, fresh water flowed in from the pipe and so more steam formed. Soon the hallway filled with the white gas, blocking everything in sight. Still he poured on the flame until the flow from the pipe became a trickle then stopped entirely.

When the steam cleared, Touya examined the beast. The pink of his muscles had disappeared replaced by angry scarlet. Lesions peppered his face. His left eye had gone from red to milky white. He was still alive and as Touya watched, his good eye opened and fastened onto him.

Not a problem. Touya raised a hand to blast.

Nausea wrapped around him like a blanket and he slumped against the wall. When he tried again, he found himself on the ground, a migraine pounding inside his head, the loudness of it only matched by the thunder of his heartbeat.

Heat stroke? Couldn’t be. He hadn’t used that much fire. Even the last blast was within the tolerances of his shitty body.

Another plume of steam past him and an old saying strung to mind. It’s not the heat. It’s the humidity. Shit. It was heat stroke just hadn't got it in the normal way.

He fumbled inside his coat for one of his water bottles, and found each and every one melted.

“Heh, fish in a barrel,” Muscular laughed, blood and spit painting his lips. “I like the sound of that.” With that he struck. 

This time he didn’t bother to throw anything. Instead he used his free hand to lash out at his surroundings. When he struck the floor, cracks spread from his fist. When he hit walls, pieces of concrete fell hitting them both indiscriminately.

Time to get out of here.

As Touya started to get to his feet, a piece of rebar speared the back of his calf and he sprawled forward. The rebar jammed itself into one of the cracks, pinning Touya in place like a butterfly on display, and when he tried to cut it, all he could do was summon sparks. He tried his radio and met with static.

Probably for the best. He remembered a short video Mister and Missus had insisted on showing him in between all the photos. It had been them and their boy at the zoo. The elder Izumis had decided to ape the apes and were jumping around, hooting and grunting. Little Kouta had been laughing which had quickly turned to embarrassment when he noticed the camera. The video had ended with him hopping up and down, trying to snatch it from the operator.

Cute kid. Seemed happy. Seemed like heroes or not, his folks were alright. Now with Mister maybe dead or dying, it was better to keep Missus away. The kid shouldn't lose both his parents.

And what of the other kids? The hundreds of names, faces and lives in his files. Would they stay there neatly tucked away and forgotten? Who was going to look out for them?

Shouto, I’m sorry.

Muscular was still laughing and his next blow knocked out the fluorescents above.

The only light remaining came from the parkade. So near and yet so far. Soft yellow, it pooled into the hall, mixing with remnants of the steam forming a translucent golden hand. It reached towards him, opening to reveal a silver figure.

His visor was dented. He was missing a pauldron. And his costume despite being ripped and dented was still impossibly clean. A literal knight in shining armour.

Ingenium ran, his engines roaring. He zigged and zagged around the falling debris as it was frozen in midair. At one point a boulder blocked the bottom two thirds of the hallway, but he merely lifted a foot, shifted his weight and started running along the wall.

“No. You can’t,” Muscular whispered as he stopped in front of Touya, the high pleading sound cutting through the noise of rock on pavement. He struggled to get to his feet.  But buried, all he was able to do was wiggle desperately like a worm on a hook.

“Todoroki, you can’t do this. You owe me!” he said, his whisper becoming a howl. “You owe me blood!”

When Ingenium pulled Touya off the rebar, he lashed out again. He had tried to collapse the hallway once, but that paled in comparison to this. Now when he hit the ground, deep cracks spider-webbed out from him as fast as lightning. When he struck the wall, door frames twisted and broke. All the while, a veritable storm of debris rained down upon them with Muscular’s screams as the thunder.

Ingenium swept Touya up bridal style and began to run. But at that moment, Touya didn’t feel very bridal. Muscular’s screams of furious, impotent, delicious rage succeeded where sheer bloody mindedness had failed, and woke something deep inside Touya.

Fire flooded his veins. He reached his hands back towards the beast, blue seeping out of every pore. It started as a trickle, then a stream and finally a mighty river of flame washed through the hall, destroying everything in sight.

The last he saw of Muscular, the beast was reaching towards the bloody rebar, his face filled with longing.

Then in a blink of an eye, It was all gone. Muscular. The parkade. The building. They were blocks away.

There was the sound of sirens. Screeching like a flock of crows spreading across the sky. So many of them that they blocked out the sun and clouds, leaving nothing.

Nothing but darkness.

“Can’t you show me?” Shouto asks, looking up at him with a straight back and determined expression. 

At five, Shouto is already so serious, much more than Natsuo or Fuyumi at that age. It’s like he is looking at a mirror through time. Except this is what should have been. What he should have had.

“No.”

“Why not? Did I do something wrong?”

Of course not.

But when he opens his mouth, all that comes out are lies.

Voices. Coming in and out like the tides.

.

.

.

“...and heat stroke. Second and probably third degree burns on his—”

“I understand, sir, and I’ll take care of it, but are sure you don’t want to...”

.

.

.

“...speaks it. We got others on the way…”

“Finally, you’d think Korea was on the opposite side of the world and not…”

.

.

.

“Can you hear me?”

.

.

.

“Todoroki?”

“Don’t…” Touya started before he was cut off by a coughing fit. His throat felt like a hundred cartons of cigarettes crawled in and had a house party.

“Here.” A straw was pressed against his lips and when he sucked on it, the syrupy-sweet and all too familiar taste of oral rehydration solution filled his mouth. Normally, ORS was on his Most Likely to Be Used In Torture list, but right now it might as well be the nectar of the gods. He tried to grab the drink and found he couldn’t.

Opening his eyes revealed that both his hands were wrapped in bandages. He had finally done it. Despite all his precautions, he had finally destroyed them. It was bound to happen sooner or later, but... No. He could feel his fingers. Could move them. So, like normal, they were fine. The rest of his hands was a patchwork of throbbing pain and numbness. The first part was typical. As for the second, it didn’t matter. Whatever it was, he could work with it.

He was lying on a gurney with most of his body wrapped in wet blankets. Couple exceptions though. His hands of course and a forearm with an IV sticking out of it. His right leg also as it too was bandaged, and hurt enough to make him think fondly of his hands.

“Todoroki-san?” The warm brown eyes of the Crawler met his own.

“Don’t call me that. That’s the old man,” he rasped. "So what's happened up here?

“I don’t know exactly,” the Crawler said, emphasizing every word. “I was just in the neighbourhood and came to help out. But I can tell you what I heard.”

They were surrounded number of emergency workers running to and fro and a growing number of gawkers were watching the spectacle. The Crawler shed the motorcycle gear and stupid All Might hoodie for civilian attire, a nondescript sweatshirt and baseball cap. He looked better like this. More mature. Like a man instead of a dumb fanboy.

“Go for it.”

“Apparently three pro-heroes rescued some kids. They got the kids out, caught the kidnappers, but then two villains showed up.”

"Two?” Muscular and one other. Guess that explained where Ingenium and the Crawler had been.

“Yes. There was one in a tengu mask and a muscle-bound guy. Both of the attacked the criminals the heroes had in custody.”

His sources! His key to the trafficking rings. He tried to sit upright, but the Crawler firmly pushed him back down. “The criminals?” he asked.

“Some dead. Some ran. Some arrested,” the Crawler said. His lips thinned and he thrust the straw at Touya’s mouth. 

Okay. That’s something. He laid back, took a few more sips, breathed and let the hysteria pass, then said “And the heroes?” Mister. Fuck. In all the chaos, he hadn’t even checked his pulse. “Are they alive?”

“One’s in bad condition. I saw them take him and another to the hospital. The armoured guy looks rough but last I saw, he was debriefing the police.

“How about yourself?” The Crawler looked alright but under those clothes could hide all kinds of injuries.

Here the Crawler’s eyes darkened from chestnut to pitch and he practically spat, “I'm okay.” Then, when he remembered the bystanders, added in a calmer voice, “A bit freaked out, but nothing serious. I’ve got friends who’ll make sure of it. And you?”

“I’ve been worse.” It was a lie of course, but who would know better?

Apparently, the Crawler that who. He raised a brow but stayed silent. Behind him, Ingenium appeared. Paramedics were ushering him onto a gurney of his own whereupon a few firefighters began to cut off his hopelessly dented armour.

He got the kids out. He had sources. His allies were alive.

After he had finished the ORS, the Crawler said, “I have to leave. My girlfriend will be expecting me. She’ll probably kill me for not bringing her.” He winced. “But I was wondering…”

“What?”

“What should I call you instead of Todoroki?”

“Touya.”

The Crawler blushed at this and waved his hands frantically. “I couldn’t. We barely know each other and it’s so personal.”

The guy who had busted human traffickers and fought villains was getting hung up on this of all things? The freaking vigilante was worried about being proper?

So, no to Touya. Definitely no to Todoroki. That left the hero name. Lovely. Of all the names the feather-brained asshole could have saddle him with, he had picked the one that made it sound like Touya pranced around delivering sunshine and rainbows.

The scent of smoke filled the air and Touya sighed. “I guess you can call me Luminous.”

“Ruinous? ” the Crawler said, his tongue slipping on the unfamiliar English word. “Is that how you say it?”

The kids were probably traumatized. A chunk of his sources were gone. Most of his allies had had the shit kicked out of them. And looming above them all was the Carkoon Condo Complex being devoured by azure flame.

“Sure,” he said. “Close enough.”

Chapter Text

The Blood We Share

Chapter 4

“I’m going to help. I have to.”

Touya woke up when the first ray of sunshine gently slid through the blinds to caress his cheek.

And slap him in the eye.

Ugh. Everything felt weird. Floaty. The mattress was soft, nothing like the firm but comfortable futon at home or the firm but considerably less comfortable one he kept at his agency.

Dammit. Had he spent the night at Hawks' again? The mattress was certainly soft enough to be his. Bird-brain’s nest was lined with that kind of thing—pillows, blankets and all that shit. Even a collection of hero plushies that Touya had been seriously tempted to set on fire a time or two. He sure as hell hoped it wasn’t Hawks' place. 

He fumbled around for his notebook but was met on either side of the bed. That was weird. No matter where he slept, he kept one and a pen nearby. Trying again, he met with the same result; only this time, there was a twinge in his arm.

Oh, yeah. Ambulance. Hospital. He had had an IV in his arm not too long ago.

He gave up ignoring the stupid flaming ball of hydrogen, sat up and went over his morning checklist.

Any urgent business?

Still didn’t know where those five teenagers were. The crazy blond teen didn’t match the description of any of them. Maybe he was a late addition and the others had been passed on already. Or maybe they had never been there in the first place. Didn’t need to fuss too much, he had sources; he could go from there.

Less urgent stuff? Typical cases.

Injuries? He didn’t hurt at the moment—probably was on drugs—so he did a visual inspection. A few nasty bruises as expected. In addition to bandages on his right leg, they had added a cast on his ankle. Some of the bandages on his hands had been removed, so he could his beautiful and wonderfully whole fingers. The idea of how useless—pointless—he’d be without them is—

Something he cannot afford to think about.

The room was typical hospital style, white with a touch of wood and soothing green, that was meant to convey warmth and comfort. This, in Touya’s opinion, meant it was faker than the wood veneer and actually conveyed “nothing bad EVER happens here” with all the sincerity of a used car salesman.

Ingenium was in the only other bed. They must have wheeled him in when he was asleep. He had a bandage wrapped around his head, a cast on one arm and a bandage on the other.

A tightness in his groin informed him that nature was calling and he paused when he noticed his backpack and a duffle bag on the chair next to his bed. On top of them was a note written in pencil with words that looked little better than chicken scratch. It read:

He appreciated the sentiment but she was just fussing. Doctors always made things sound worse than they were. So he put his good foot down and—

There was a crinkle sound and he found another note taped to the floor. This time a bit of time had been taken to write it with the words in crisp pen. It read:

He glanced behind him. You could hardly miss it. There were no less than six arrows pointing to the call button.

As it turned out that even with the painkillers his right leg hurt when he put weight on it; so, instead of walking, he hopped along on his left while using his bed and Ingenium’s to keep his balance. And—because he wasn’t stupid—he made sure to use his fingers and not the rest of his hands to hold on with.

Once he reached the end of the beds and was about to hop the short distance between them and the bathroom, he spotted another note attached to the door. It written in exquisite kanji and read:

Sweet? Maybe in person, but with a pen or behind a keyboard? Hah. He wondered whether her school teachers knew what they had released by teaching her to read and write.

He snagged to the note by the bags and with a bit of finagling managed to grab the one on the ground. After he pressed the call button and he was being wheeled into the bathroom, he managed to snag the last one off the door before the nurse was able to read it. Crappy hands or not, he was able to perfectly toss it across the room and into the bin by his bed to join the others.

He should have figured something was up when all three of them looked back with smug satisfaction as if the bin was lined with the finest silk and not plastic.

There was a choking sound from the nurse and he turned to find a fourth note taped to the bathroom mirror, smirking down at him with all its neon glory.

Iida Tensei was usually up by five in the morning. There were many good and practical reasons for this. 

For one, he ran a decent size hero agency. He had heard of things breeding like bunnies, but he’s pretty sure that his paperwork is to bunnies what bunnies were to pandas. If he didn’t keep on top of it, one of these days the paperwork would start charging him rent. Another reason was that by getting up early, he could interact with people from the morning, afternoon and night shift. Hear their successes, worries and plans. Thirdly, he had a wonderful(ly annoying) little brother who insisted that to uphold The Iida Family Honour™, he ought to do the former two without fail, and said brother would barge into his room if he had the audacity to sleep to 5:01 AM.

But the main reason was quite simple.

He loved it.

For all that he liked living in the city, it was normally packed with people. It seemed that no sooner did he start running that he was forced to zip around someone or come to a stop entirely. At best, his engines would reach a tiny whine while remaining cold weights dragging down his arms.

But during the early hours of the morning with the city still asleep, he could actually run . Drive himself until his engines deep rumble and gentle warmth thrummed through his body. Then, when his legs were no more than a blur beneath him, he would launch himself up into the skyline. There he would leap between buildings, the air whistling past, and think that not even flying could be as good as this.

And when his run was almost done, Musutafu would awaken beneath him like a flower to the sun. It reminded him why he was Ingenium. He loved running but not one hair’s less than he loved his city.

So when he woke and saw the wall clock pointing at 7:43 AM, he knew the previous night had cost him more than he had thought. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one.

On the other bed Todoroki “Luminous” Touya sat. He was mottled with bruises, bandages and other souvenirs from the battle. A note sat in his lap. Or rather part of one was as he was destroying it with speed and pinpoint accuracy, neatly folding to create razor sharp creases only to rip them loud enough to be heard five rooms over.

“News of the Izumis?” he hazarded.

Touya’s rampage slowed then stopped. “No, but the orderly said Mister is stable and Missus is sleeping so that’s probably a good sign,” he said. “This is personal stuff.”

“That one of your notes from your girlfriend, right?” Red- and white-haired woman who had come in while Tensei had been half asleep. “Everything okay?”

“Definitely not my girlfriend,” Touya said flatly. “Sister. Thinks I don’t take care of myself,” and started stuffing the paper shreds into the bin.

Could sometimes be warranted, in Tensei’s experience. When Tenya’s Quirk had first come in, he’d thought the best way to learn how to corner was to run straight at a wall and try to turn at the last second. Their parents had had to invest in a leash and safety harness designed for baby bears.

“How about the Crawler?” he asked. Koichi was good, but he wouldn’t have brought him in if the mission hadn’t been last minute and the victims children. If he had gotten seriously injured, he likely would have been arrested at the hospital. The HPSC could be overzealous where unregistered heroes were concerned. 

“He made it. Some bruises. No real injuries.” 

Tensei let out a breath. Good. “Figures he’d come out of it smelling like roses while we look like mummies,” he said lightly. “How about this? Next time there’s a mission, I buy us dinner and we let him do all the work. After it’s all over, we take all the credit and go for mimosas. Sound like an idea?” 

“Really, Ingenium?” The words were neutral but the tone was cool, and the flat look this time made the previous one positively three dimensional. Tensei could even hear the slight grinding of teeth. Add to that, Touya had only called him that when they’d first met and since then only on missions.

“Easy there, It’s a joke… I’m joking.” 

“Oh, sorry Iida.” 

“You gave me a real scare yesterday. When the paramedics were about to get some liquids in you, you were starting to seize, letting out little bursts of fire.” Tiny sprays of blue fire dancing across his body. Beautiful and dangerous. “No one had been able to get near you until the Endeavor Agency showed up.”

“Endeavor included?” Touya asked.

That put one more mark in the ‘Endeavor and Luminous were related’ column. Father and son. Cousins. Uncle and nephew. One way or another, with the exception of the kidnapping and death of his youngest, Endeavor was notoriously quiet about his family life.

“Maybe? I got abducted by the police at that point.” Probably, if he had been his family, he would have run through solid earth to get to them.

Easy to picture Touya as embarrassed if a relation showed up while injured. It had happened to himself more than once. One notable occasion, his parents, his grandparents and two honorary aunts had shown up and, in full view of the public, started cooing over and fussing over ‘little’ Ingenium as if his twisted ankle was a full fledged war wound. 

“Literally abducted,” he continued. “A bunch of police officers surrounded me then dragged me off to report to their lieutenant. Felt like a single sheep surrounded by a hoard of collies. I only got away from them because the paramedics drove them off. Then they abducted me... So anyhow, how are you dong?"

“I’ve been worse,” Touya finally replied.

“Uh, huh.” Right, and Tensei was All Might’s long lost son. 

Mind you, Touya was one of those people who could look good no matter the circumstances. At the moment, his white hair resembled a cotton ball that had gone through a garburator, the bags under his eyes looked like they were pregnant and that wasn’t getting into all the injuries, and still he looked like he was the heartthrob of a punk rock band. 

Well, if he didn’t want to talk about what was bothering him, he could respect that. Maybe he could offer a distraction instead? 

It was difficult with his arms, but he managed to wiggle down his bed enough that he was able to grab Touya’s chart off the end of his. Tensei looked down at it and discovered… 

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. It might as well have been written in Greek for all that he could make of it. He did a once over Touya and hedged his bets. “Ah, looks like you have a concussion,” he announced. “First, second and third degree burns on your hands and arms.”

Touya stared skeptically at him, so Tenya decided to liven it up a bit. “They had to remove all but two of your spleens. You’ve got a cataract in your inner eye, an ingrown nose, and the ulna in your right ankle is broken. But don’t worry, if you undergo a comprehensive regime of magic water and crystal therapy, you’ll be healed in the next century or so.”

“Ulna bone is your arm, dumbass.” Touya grabbed the chart, but was thoughtful enough to wiggle it out of Tensei’s grasp opposed to snatching it. He perused it for a few minutes, mouth periodically moving.

“You can actually read this stuff?” Tensei asked, eyeing the pages. 

“Yes.”

“How?”

“Little brother’s pre-med. He tends to go on, so I picked up a bit.”

“You must be proud.”

Here Touya’s stoicism failed. The edges of his lips pulled upward. “I am.” 

“I am happy for you, but I wasn’t actually talking about the jargon. I was talking about the doctorese.” He nodded to the mess on the page. “A pen attached to a rabid squirrel would have made for more legible writing.”

Touya’s smile turned considerably more dry and let out a low chuckle. “Believe me, he was born to be a doctor. He fits in perfectly in that respect.”

It was probably the first real smile Tensei had seen from him that wasn’t work-related. It was hardly the way Tensei had wanted to see it. He had been hoping for different, better circumstances. 

He can’t say he regretted it. It was a nice smile. A simple sliver of white teeth accompanied by a little sliver of insight into Touya the man. Not Touya the hero. 

It had been nearly three months since the hero had charged into his agency and started demanding—not asking—for information, resources and people to help rescue child victims of Quirk traffickers. Tensei couldn’t not help; the concept of not heling was unthinkable.

He still remembered looking into those vortexes of blue and knowing deep-down that it was unthinkable to Touya too.

The hospital dragged them off shortly for tests and treatments. Both of them got x-rays, then were separated with Touya going for skin grafts for his hands and Tensei for a Mutation Quirk expert to clean out and examine his engines.

By the time Tensei was returned, Touya was already back in they room and lunch had been delivered. He started to dig into his own when he noted the half-eaten sandwich and forgotten soup next to his roommate. 

“You okay?” he asked. 

“You asked that already.”

“I did,” he said and noted the ‘Iida Tensei’ medical chart in front of the other man. “I guess I’d be better off asking how I’m doing.”

“Concussion. The engine block on your left is dented. Two bruised ribs…”

“Muscular wasn't fast enough to catch me. Wasn’t maneuverable enough to catch the Crawler. He got creative—started throwing stuff at us and knocked things over to change the battleground.” He grimaced. “Crushed a few of the prisoners while he was at it.” Almost all his injuries had been to the villain, the concussion was probably from when Muscular had tossed a pillar at him. The blow had been glancing but that had been enough to knock out his radio and lay him out flat.

Touya didn’t reply and continued on. “...tons of bruises, but no internal bleeding.” He paused. “You carried me out of there with a sprained wrist on one side and a broken arm on the other.”

“Sprains aren’t a big deal. And I bet the arm’s just cracked.”

“While using your Quirk.”

“As I said, not a big deal.”

“And you got a case of heat stroke due to running through the boiling hallway.”

“I was there for less than a minute, couldn’t be any worse than heat exhaustion.”

“And you got first and second degree burns because apparently somewhere in the midst of everything I lost all temperature control.”

“Well, you were unconscious by that point and…” he trailed off when Touya’s eyes burnt into him. 

He opened and closed his mouth a few times, feeling a bit like a fish. Each time he opened it, Touya’s glare threatened to bore right through him, and he’d be surprised to find his mouth had snapped shut. Touya, meanwhile, was gripping the chart hard enough that Tensei half expected it to break under the pressure.

No. He couldn’t be having that now. The time for deflecting was over.

He looked up and met the full force of Touya’s glare with one of his own. Where Touya’s blue eyes were the same colour as his capricious flames, Tensei’s were slate grey. Stone and unmovable.

“Yes, I did,” he said simply. “And it was worth it."

The more time Tensei spent around Touya, the more time he got the impression that he was a lot like a stressed hen who, when brooding over her eggs, ripped out her own feathers. Tensei had planned to say something deep and meaningful about how he was an adult and he was entitled to risk his life and limbs as he chose fit.

Of course, because the fates were cruel, when he had finally put the words together, Recovery Girl entered.

“Don’t look so surprised, dears,” she said. “You know the Commision doesn’t like your lot being out of commission for long. If it wasn’t me, it would be another Quirk doctor. I happen to know Tensei’s grandmother from school and I was in the area.” She marched over and gave him a pinched him on his cheek.

Well, there went Tensei’s chance of having a serious conversation. Might as well embrace it. “Even in those days, she was a school medic.”

“Ha, ha.” Recovery Girl said dryly and gave Tensei’s other cheek a significantly harder pinch. “Damn-Cell and I went to hero school together. And since she called me and I was in the neighbourhood, I thought I’d check in on you and do a few rounds of the hospital.”

“Including Water Hose?” Touya asked. At the same time, Tensei said, “What about the Izumis?”

“Don’t fuss. I already have seen them. The young lady is fixed up… Afraid I can’t do much for the gentleman. I don’t like to fiddle with possible brain and spine damage. It’s extemely difficult to get right and the ‘doctors’ who can do it consistently..." Her face twisted inward then resumed its pleasant disposition. Such people typically had lots of practice and little regard for who they practiced on. “But for what it’s worth he’s woken up a few times, so that’s a good sign.

“So do you want to be examined one by one in another room for privacy, or do you want me to check on both here..”

“Here’s fine.”

“Okay with me.”

“I also have a message from Detectives Taunama and Tsukauchi,” she said.

“I am surprised they didn’t just come up.”

“Oh, they tried,” she replied smugly. “Last night and shortly before I arrived… Ended up finding them hiding behind a vending machine near here. Apparently, a quite remarkable woman drove them off; she didn’t appreciate them trying to interrupt the rest of her son’s rescuers and used quite a number of expletives to get her point across.” She grinned appreciatively. “Woman missed her calling as a nurse.

“They asked if you could come by the station after you’re discharged.” She chuckled. “ I told them that you wouldn’t be in until tomorrow after you’d have a good night’s rest.”

She had him gently move his arms a few times, examined the inside of his engines with a stethoscope and gave him a peck on the cheek. No sooner did her lips lift from his skin than Tensei felt the process start, the various patches of numbness, aches and pains relax and flow away as if they were knots that had been undone by a gentle hand.

She went to Touya, flipped through his chart and tsk-tsked at his hands before giving him a kiss on the forehead. "Really dear, I thought you were past that sort of thing,” she said tightly as she removed the bandages on his hands and got to work pulling out the stitches that had joined the old flesh to the new. “One of these days, you’re going to permanently damage them.”

“It was an emergency.”

“Well, I should hope so.”

Touya looked directly at Tensei and, raising a brow in challenge, said, “It was worth it.”

Tensei smiled back. “Yes,” he said, “some things are.”

“Okay, Tensei,” Recovery Girl said, “I healed the damage to your organic parts, but your engines are mostly metal, so that dent will have to heal on its own; should pop out in a week or two. In the meantime, I want you taking it easy, meaning no running and drinking lots of liquids.”

“Alright.”

Her voice turned stern. “By that I mean water and drinks with lots of electrolytes, not just orange juice.” 

“It’s not just fuel. I like the taste,” he protested. “Besides you already said no running.” It wasn’t like he’d be doing it excessively. Just a few times a day.

“You’d won’t like the taste of asphalt when you faceplant because your engine gave out.”

Touya watched the exchange. With his arms folded and face blank, one could have been forgiven for mistaking him for a statue if not for the glimmer in his eye. This last detail disappeared entirely when she rounded on him. “In your case, Todoroki Touya,” she said, “you’re to drink fluids as well. As for your skin graft, it may have healed but given the stress you’ve put your arms under, I don’t want so much as a flicker from them for at least a week.”

“My chart says—” 

Her eyes pinned him in place like a stuck pig. “Oh, I read your chart. ‘Someone’ made modifications to it. I have no clue as to who this fiendish person is, but their handwriting is nowhere as bad as a real doctor’s. Besides, only a cursory glance at your injuries and your supposed doctor-recommended treatment regime and it was clear what had happened. Rest assured, if I find the culprit who is endangering your health, I’ll make them regret it.”

“So no fire.”

“Not from your arms at least. But if you’d like you can light your head on fire. Given your disposition, I doubt anyone would notice the difference.” She retrieved her medical bag and headed towards the door. 

Just when they were about to relax, she added, “For the next while you are going to be very tired so I recommend sleep unless you want be falling all over the place... Now, I realise my friendly suggestions might be hard to remember, but given that there’s two of you. I’m sure you can help the other remember. After all it would be in your best interests to do so.”

Ingenium had been clearly intimidated by Recovery Girl. It seemed a bit ridiculous to Touya, but if she knew his grandmother, he supposed that she could have his family guilt him into submission.

One way or another, Touya was not intimidated. She didn’t have any ties to his family, financial power over him or an offensive Quirk—though that last one was likely a good thing—so if he took most of her suggestions, it was because they made sense. Fighting injured was hard. So no fire.

That was the only reason.

In the bag Fuyumi had left him, he discarded his hospital gown for a white jacket, black button up shirt and a pair of jeans. He was about to leave when Ingenium said, “Where are you going?”

“I am healed.”

“Your eyebags look like they’re going to give birth.”

“It’s dull here.”

“I can think of a couple things we can do,” Ingenium said smoothly, his smile sharp. 

“Like what?” he asked and stifled a yawn.

The smile dropped. “Talk about the mission for one. We’re still missing a bunch of teenagers and the one we did find wasn’t part of that group.”

Oh, yeah. That was probably a good idea. He sank back into his bed. “Thoughts?"

“Do you remember what Muscular said when I grabbed you?”

Todoroki. “My name.” His stomach churned. “Mister called me that earlier. He could have got it then.”

“In the middle of a battle? Could he have spared that much attention?”

Remembering Muscular, his grinning face and playful manner. The sort of man who would squeeze a kitten just to hear the poor thing scream and gleefully watch as its mother fruitlessly tried to retrieve it.  “For him? I bet the entire thing was like a holiday.”

“Point, but still something worth considering.” Ingenium bowed his head at this. “Anything you noticed?”

“Well for one, the kids we did find were North Korean.”

“Not South?”

“No. I tried talking to them in English, Japanese, Mandarin. If they were from the South, at least one of them should have understood something I said.” Even if their parents hadn’t taught them, some of those kids were school age. “Then there’s All Might.”

“What about that?” Ingenium prompted.

“Kids didn’t recognize us as heroes, but they did recognize the Crawler’s hoodie.” This pillow was annoyingly soft. “North Korea doesn’t have a hero system.” Their more powerful Quirk users were automatically drafted into the army. Uniforms in that case. No costume.

Ingenium followed the trail of logic. “So at some point All Might showed up there.”

“Yeah, a while back, Toxic Chainsaw rampaged along the North-South demilitarized zone. They needed a neutral party so they sent All Might in. It was hushed up—some people must have seen it—probably told others.” He’d only heard about it because the Old Man had nearly got the job.

“Huh, nice detective work. You’re a regular Akechi Kogoro.” 

Hell, no. “I’m no Akechi,” he grumbled.

“Why not?” Ingenium asked, opening his own bag and rummaging through the contents. “He’s the father of Japanese detectives.”

Fictional ones. Touya grunted. “Sherlock Holmes ripoff.”

“But he’s married. Holmes isn’t.”

Even less like him then. “Don’t see myself getting hitched to a lady.”

“So no ladies. No supernatural stuff?”

“Definitely not.”

“No erotic overtures?” Ingenium asked, that odd smile on his face.

“Not nearly enough.” Nowhere near enough. It wasn’t a dry spell so much as a veritable desert. Much longer he’d break his promise and go visit the feathered-fiend. 

A rumble from outside broke his internal bemoaning. It was from outside the room, no doubt an orderly moving a cart or a patient, but the sound resembled the one before Muscular had appeared. “The second villain—what do you know?” Touya asked.

“Not as much as I’d like. I was still dazed from Muscular. He introduced themselves by tossing a few grenades at some of the prisoners—killed a few too. One of the blasts sent debris into my left muffler, so I wasn’t able to keep up. Crawler was the one who drove him off.”

“Description?”

“Little shorter than you, wearing a tengu mask and black robes.”

A what? Some kind of animal maybe or a fashion going around. He racked his brain fruitlessly.

Eventually the Engine Hero came to his rescue. “You know like the yokai? A trickster with a long nose and a red face.” 

“Quirk?”

“Not sure. After he attacked, he disappeared in a puff of red smoke and reappeared in another one on top of a building.”

“So a teleportation Quirk?”

“Hmmm…” Ingenium’s gaze went past him as if reading off an invisible screen. “Rare but possible. If it was, it would likely be short range or he could have teleported out of there. Could also be a really fast speed Quirk and the smoke is discharge from starting and stopping. Or maybe—”

Touya cut him off there. “So we need more information.” Better to get solid facts before floating away on suspicions.

Finally finding what he wanted from his bag, Ingenium dislodged a few items onto the floor and withdrew a laptop. Setting it on his lap, he typed in a website address and was met with a blocked screen. “Oh no.” He frowned and typed in a different one. “Crap.” The third attempt was met with a similar statement of distress.

“What?” Touya asked.

Ingenium groaned. “Apparently someone put it on parental lock.”

“What?”

Ingenium groaned again. “Sometimes some people in my life think I work too hard and they do things like this.” The tips of his ears were reddening. “I don’t suppose you can do anything about it,” he said, offering it to him.

“I can turn the things off and on. I try to keep things simple.” Especially after he had melted his last two laptops and three phones out of frustration.

Ingenium sagged and went to put the laptop back while Touya helped him pick up the other items he had scattered over the floor. After retrieving a few pens and pencils, Touya’s hand wrapped around a small package that crinkled and looked down at it, then glanced inside the duffle bag. Okay, that explained a lot.

Ingenium… Iida froze when he saw what Touya was holding, the rest of his ears went bright red, the contrast with his dark blue hair made them look like veritable tomatoes. “I was giving them out to the public.”

He really was an atrocious liar. “So you’re giving condoms out to random people,” Touya stated. Specifically condoms that were designed for couples where one had an extreme temperature Quirk.

“Yes.”

“And the lube?”

“That too.”

“Is that so?”

Iida broke at that and let out a musical laugh. “Yes, of course,” he said, trying and failing to keep a straight face. “I run through the city in full hero regalia while giving out condoms, lube and safe sex pamphlets to citizens.”

“I’d pay good money to see that.”

Iida let out another laugh and when the last notes of it faded from the air, he said, “This wasn’t how I wanted this to go. Dinner, drinks, even a cup of coffee... not a trip to the hospital.”

“I figured that.” Hell, he should have figured the entire thing out hours ago. Looking back, it was damn obvious. He must be more tired than he thought. “So…” He looked Iida up and down.  “How do you want this to go?”

Iida stared at him. “Wait, now?”

Touya smiled, revealing gleaming teeth. That wasn’t a no.

“We’re at a hospital,” Iida said.

“Staff shouldn’t be back for at least an hour.” 

Iida paused and said, “You think so?” There was a light in his eyes like a firefly dancing across a pond.

It should have been sexy and maybe a bit romantic. Unfortunately, the fatigue that Recovery Girl had warned of started to set in. That combined with a comfy bed, meant that they had stumbled to first base and by the time they reached second base, they were trying to remember if third base was clockwise, counterclockwise or off the field altogether.

It was at that time there was a beep and Iida’s bag shook. Touya probably should have complained when Iida reached over to check his phone, but at that point he was trying to recall if baseball required you to move or not; personally, he was leaning towards not. 

He was startled when Iida sprang out of bed and shouted, “Get dressed! Get dressed now!”

“Wha—?” he mumbled as Iida shoved a shirt at him.

“Someone’s coming.”

It seemed an overreaction given Iida had been up for risking hospital staff walking in on them, but he dutifully put the shirt then plopped back onto the bed while Iida fussed in the bathroom, trying to get his messy hair to lay flat.

The someone showed up less than a second later. “Tensei-nii, I have arrived,” he announced, opening the door so quickly that the handle loudly bashed into the wall.

It was a Mini Iida. A couple differences—glasses, engines on his legs instead of his arms and an body as stiff as a board. Though at least one joint was functional because he took one glance at Touya and started bowing.

“My apologies, sir.” Bow. “I was under the understanding this was my brother’s room.” Bow. “I will leave and leave to your rest.” Bow.

“Nah, you have the right room, kid.” He pointed at the bathroom. “He’s getting freshened up.”

Iida stepped out and Mini Iida started bowing to him too. “Brother, I have come to check on you.” Bow.

“Yes, I figured.” Iida walked over, stopped his brother in mid-dip, and gave him a hug. “Honestly, Tenya. You don’t have to do that.”

“But we’re in public,” Mini Iida said, gesturing at their public of one. “It’s important to show that the Iida family can show proper respect.”

“You can relax, he’s a…” He stumbled when Touya smirked at him. “Uh… friend.”

Mini Iida mulled this over and turned to Touya. “Would you be one of the heroes who helped save my classmate?” he asked.

“Would this classmate be blond, insane and have a face like a gremlin?”

The kid was at a loss for words for a few seconds before finally saying, “I have... heard similar descriptions.”

“Then yes.”

“Then, as assistant representative to our class, I must thank you on behalf of us all.” Bow.

He started to bow once but his elder brother grabbed him by the shoulders and held him in place. “Easy there, Tenya. I thought we just sorted this out,” Iida said. “Keep this up and someone will mistake you for a Dippy Bird.”

Mini Iida flared his nostrils at his brother like a bull about to charge. “As a future hero and as a representative of our family, it’s important I uphold a certain degree of decorum. And as the heir to our family…”

He kept on like that for a while. Iida for the most part seemed resigned to the experience, his expression stuck halfway between exasperation and fondness. He appeared to have long since memorized this speech as once in a while he would move his mouth in time with the words. 

Mini Iida’s lecture momentarily paused when he noticed a few small bruises littering his brother’s neck, stuttered when he noticed the shirt he was wearing was straining at the buttons. He turned back to Touya, still speaking but at a reduced speed, and, when he saw the oversized shirt that Touya was wearing, stopped altogether.

It took a little while for him to solve the puzzle. It wasn’t until he noticed that Touya was in a bed that’s chart said ‘Iida Tensei’ and he spotted the condom on the nightstand, that he finally fit the pieces together.

Of all the reactions Touya expected, the one he got was not among them. Mini Iida thrust his hand into Touya’s own and shook it. “It is a pleasure to meet you, you must be my brother’s boyfriend,” he said, beaming at him. “Or am I misunderstanding and this is a casual affair?”

Iida made frantic motions at Touya behind his brother’s back. Back in the day when Endeavor had been in a bad mood, he and his siblings sometimes had used Charades as a quiet way to communicate so as not to bother him. Touya knew Charades.

Iida clearly did not. Or maybe he did want him to fold his little brother into a paper crane and mail him to Santa Claus while wearing a kimono backwards.

So instead, Touya thought and quickly calculated. The Iida family was known for being open-minded. Their agency hiring a wide array of people, a number of which were gay or transgender. It could very well be an act designed to look progressive to the masses, but if the orientation thing wasn’t an issue for them… Then there’s the little Iida himself. There was not a speck on his glasses, his hair looked like it had been superglued in place and even his casual clothes looked like they had been  starched and pressed. Add to that he was absolutely obsessed with acting proper...

So Touya rolled the dice. “Yes, we’re in a relationship.” Casual sex was probably not approved of in the Iida clan.

Mini Iida beamed at him. “Excellent,” he proclaimed. “It is about time my brother took his romantic life seriously. I don’t suppose you have a comprehensive plan when it comes to adoption or surrogacy as the case may be.”

“I…” In the background, Big Iida sighed. “I think things are a little early for that.”

“Never too early to think about the future. If you’re interested, I’ve got a few already set up.” Then the kid started on about other couple-related future plans. 

Eventually, Mini Iida moved onto a different topic. “I was also hoping you could persuade my brother on the subject of his hero name.”

“Tenya, it’s a perfectly fine name,” Iida complained.

“It sounds like the English word ‘ingenuine’. We don’t want you giving people the wrong impression.” 

Personally, Touya didn’t especially care one way or another about the name. Personally if people look up every name they run into in foreign language dictionaries, any bad impression they may get was self-inflicted. Much like a person jumping into a tiger pit while dressed as a steak.

“It’s Latin for engine.”

“Almost no one speaks that language.”

“Also there’s the matter of the ‘inge’ in Ingenium,” said Mini Iida as he tried to engage him again.

This time Touya let himself be engaged. “What do you mean?”

“Uh, yes. Recently, one of my classmates informed me that ‘inge’ is slang for…” Apparently, he can’t bring himself to say it.

Magnanimously, Touya helped him out. “You mean that it’s slang for hair down there? ”

“...yes.” Cute. The red ears were hereditary.

“Huh, that is quite an oversight—I mean it’s such nice hair. It deserves more attention. I mean think of all the good publicity if you used it properly.”

Now Mini Iida was at a loss for words.

“You could make a bundle advertising his beauty regime. Or do what Midnight and advertise sex appeal. I mean it’s so pretty that I am sure he could star in tons of porn mo—”

This last comment broke the kid entirely and he scampered, leaving only trails of smoke behind him.

“So apparently I have a boyfriend now,” Iida commented drily.

“We can have a dramatic breakup.” Touya shrugged. “Thought it’d be easier. Figured since he was a—”

“Prude?” Iida continued and chuckled. “Oh, he can be. That being said, he figured things out faster than you did. And don’t think you’ve driven him off permanently. If we don’t have our dramatic breakup soon, he’ll be back later with a detailed presentation on how to be an appropriate consort.”

Touya’s shirt was definitely too small for Iida, hugging him so close so every muscle was outlined. Leaning against the door frame with the bathroom light behind him, he made an appealing profile.

“So,” Touya said, giving the other man a speculative look, “about this consort position—any fringe benefits?”

Their second attempt didn’t go any better than their first. This time they got to first base, promptly passed out there and ended up sleeping through the afternoon, waking up shortly before their discharge. 

After they had disentangled themselves, they agreed it was best to call it quits for now.

Iida, for his part, blamed his “sweet, well-intentioned and incredibly embarrassing younger brother”. Nothing like siblings to sabotage one’s libido. Meanwhile, Touya hypothesized that the bed was Quirk-made because there was no other way it could be so comfortable.

Neither of them were willing to acknowledge that Recovery Girl might have been right about them needing sleep.

So while Iida took the first shower, Touya looked through his phone for any messages. There were a few from Natsuo and, musing that there was no way his siblings were as frustrating as Iida’s, clicked on it. They read:

Below it was a photo of him and Iida conked out in what looked like an embrace. Lovely. 

At that point, Iida called from the bathroom, “Touya? There’s an... odd note taped inside the shower.”

Sigh. Of course there was.

Chapter Text

The Blood We Share

Chapter: 5

"Remember the little boy on the news? ...I am so sorry."

It was raining heavily. The large puddles covering the ground reflected the world above, but the images in their depths looked as if someone took the lights, buildings and people of the city and ran them through a blender, creating a distorted kaleidoscope of colour. 

Fuyumi found such days intriguing. One was able to skim the border between the expected and the unexpected. The truth and the deception.

As she drove her van along the street, the wheels hit puddle after puddle, splashing rainbows in all directions before leaving dull asphalt in their wake. Soon she reached her destination, parked, and, after removing one of the large bags from the back, headed into the police station.

The receptionist waved at her as she entered. “Fuyumi, what are you doing here?” she asked. It was a rhetorical question. The receptionist had been here long enough to know what Fuyumi showing up with a large bag denoted. It was an invite to talk. It was one of those little games people play instead of saying what they meant, but, as such things went, was a friendly one and so Fuyumi took a few minutes to chat.

As they did, a few officers and detectives come in to say hello and soon calls of ‘Fuyumi’ and ‘Fuyumi-chan’ rang through the station. 

Fuyumi usually uses her given name, something that she shared with her brothers. Natsuo because he tried to make friends wherever he went. Touya because he hated being associated with their father. Her reasons were similar and different to both.

One by one she greeted the staff—Ito, Tamakawa, Abe and more—putting names to faces and throwing in the odd question relating to their lives. Fuyumi had a good memory and every link she could make between herself and them was a tool. So if offering up her given name created a bit more intimacy, it was a small price to pay.

Tamakawa approached her. As always, his grooming was fastidious, his tan fur free from dirt and brushed to a glossy shine while his golden eyes were bright, clear and fastened on her. “In miracle-mode today, I see,” he said, nodding to her bag.

She shrugged. “It’s just a Quirk.”

“No, you. The Quirk just happens to be attached,” he replied with a hint of a purr courtesy of his cat Quirk. “Anything we can do to help?”

She blushed and handed him her keys. “There’s six more bags in the car. There’s bakery boxes too—they’re for you and the others.” Without missing a beat, he took them, flagged down a few of his coworkers and headed off towards her van. 

She legitimately liked a number of the police—Tamakawa with his golden eyes among them—got along with others and and as for the rest… she can’t afford to dislike them. Too many nasty thoughts increases the chance they’ll notice and she can’t afford for them to dislike her. 

She needed all of them on her side. 

That way when her kids got in trouble, they weren’t random punks doomed to the streets; they were Fuyumi’s kids. That meant the police might take a little extra time, practice a bit more patience and give a touch more of the compassion her kids desperately needed.

Anger. Hatred. Some things were just not options.

Fuyumi considers herself the oldest of her siblings.

When she states this at the age of seven, her mother pulls her and Touya’s birth certificates and points at the dates and she finds out that it’s not in fact true. It’s a confusing revelation. Sure Touya is nearly two years her senior, but he certainly doesn’t act like it, constantly flickering in and out of her and Natsuo’s lives, and when he is truly present, he doesn’t do or know all the important things the eldest ought to.

He doesn’t know the names of any of Fuyumi’s friends. He doesn’t know that the bunny toy will make little Natsuo giggle and the clown one will make him cry. He almost never plays with them, and he isn’t the one who gets mother ginseng tea and rubs her back when she gets really quiet. 

Even Mother doesn’t treat him like he is the oldest. Whenever his training with Father is done, she fusses over Touya as if he were completely helpless.

That’s not to say he’s bad. He gives Fuyumi the best warm hugs, makes silly faces at Natsuo, and, whenever one of them gets a bump or scrape, he’s better with the first aid kit than even Mother. Fuyumi really does love him; it’s just she can’t depend on him to be there.

As they age, Fuyumi learns that it’s not his fault. Touya has lots of important responsibilities and that’s why he’s often too busy or tired to spend time with the rest of them. Because of these responsibilities, sometimes Touya needs a bit of help and, when that happens, Mother will leave Fuyumi in charge of Natsuo and new baby Shouto. There’s even a compliment in there for Fuyumi because, while she may not be the oldest in truth, Mother trusts her with the job. 

Fuyumi likes to think there’s another compliment in there. That it’s because Mother knows that they are alike. Their Quirks may differ, but their souls are of ice. Cool and calm. Ice holds things together. 

That’s Fuyumi’s job: to hold things together.

When she is eleven, Mother gets ‘quiet’ more often and now gets scared for strange reasons. Shouto’s Quirk comes in, which means he trains with Father. Fuyumi worries about him somewhat, but she tells herself that Shouto’s got Mother now. Mother who devotes her time to him instead of Touya as Touya’s own training has almost stopped.

Fuyumi tentatively thinks that this last fact might be a good thing. With Touya being around more, she won’t have to be the oldest anymore. Not being strong all the time could be nice.

It’s for not though. In many ways, she’s gained a new little brother as Touya floats around aimlessly like a balloon that’s lost its tether. There’s so many things he doesn’t know. He doesn't know anything but the most rudimentary of games. He’s never been to school. And he doesn't know how to make friends. And so she dutifully puts her hopes in the bin, dons the mantle of oldest and does her job.

It takes some time but eventually things start going well. Natsuo, after much complaining about losing his little brother as a playmate, has decided that he likes having a big brother. He is often found hanging off him—or trying to as ‘little’ Natsuo is nearly as big as Touya. As for Touya himself, he smiles more and has discovered a love of soccer. He spends most evenings out and Fuyumi thinks he’s made some friends.

Finally, Fuyumi has some time for herself.

Then Mother hurts Shouto. 

Then she’s gone.

Then Shouto’s gone.

Then he’s dead.

She made her way to the station’s little courtyard. Somewhere down the line, someone had thought having a little green space would help the station’s occupants relax after a tough day. It might have been nice once but now whatever verdant comfort it may have offered has been stripped away. The garden beds were clogged with weeds and what was supposed to be grass was predominantly sandy earth with the occasional green blade standing alone like a marker in the desert. 

Sitting down on an old bench that was held together more by rust than anything else, Fuyumi focused, closing her eyes, feeling the air. 

First she sensed the air fluttering against her skin, but as time went on, her senses expanded outward until all the ebbs and flows of the courtyard sat in the back of her mind. She could feel the water too, not just the raindrops that fell from the heavens only to be destroyed by the earth, but the moisture that hid within the air itself. Waiting.

Under her touch the courtyard’s air slowed to a crawl and the water in the air pulled together into droplets, causing the rain to increase. Then she reached into the rain itself; like the air currents, the individual water droplets had their own dances smaller than the eye could see. And like the air, their tempo slowed, and when the dances have almost stopped, they bloom into crystals, each unique and exquisite.

When she opened her eyes, it was snowing. It was only a light flurry but it was  a start so she let happy thoughts flood her mind. She could make snow without it but it was easier when she was in a good mood, like there was a doorway inside her, and stress caused it to close up.

Tawakanda brought her a steaming cup of coffee and his coworkers delivered her bags, so she started there. The coffee was a familiar comfort, and the delivery of it and the bags a simple kindness. There were other things too like the joy and relief that Touya was seeing someone, letting another person into his life,  and that one of her kids, after a year of struggling, was graduating high school.

She mined her memories. Natsuo announcing that he had gotten into medical school. A hug from her mother from last time she visited. Little Shouto watching a soap opera—his reactions, rapidly switching between confusion and rapture.

If she went further back, there was one old memory so faded that she only remembers the outline of it—where she was very small and Mother held one of her hands and Father the other. She remembered kicking her feet off the ground and swinging between them, utterly confident that they would not let her fall. 

It might be real or wishful thinking. Either way she’ll take it.

“Is that you, dear?” a woman asked. She was poking her head out of a door, reaching out a careful hand to touch the falling snow as if she wasn’t sure it was real.

“Yes.” She didn’t mind the distraction. It was snowing in earnest now and required considerably less effort to maintain.

“Is that strictly legal?” The woman cautiously stepped into the courtyard as if she were afraid that Fuyumi would cause a snowstorm in her brain if it wasn’t.

Touya would have likely responded with a sarcastic comment like “Nah, I regularly use my Quirk illegally. And a police station? Definitely the best place for that.” In contrast , Natsuo would have made a similar statement without the caustic edge, making silly friendly jokes about all the ways the Licensing Board would horribly torture him.

Fuyumi was neither of them and gave a straightforward answer. “Yes, I have a license.” It had been hard fought for but a steady letter writing campaign over two years had annoyed the Licensing Board into submission. 

“It’s a beautiful Quirk,” the woman said and, sitting beside her, stared at Fuyumi’s handiwork. The worry lines around her eyes looked deep enough to touch bone. “Your parents must be very proud.”

“They are,” Fuyumi lied. Father had never been interested in it.

Provided there was enough water in the air, she could make cold rain, snow and everything in between, but the intensity varied based on size and her target had to be stationary. In the palm of her hand, she can make a snowstorm strong enough to make a polar bear buy a parka. Meanwhile on a larger scale? The courtyard’s snow is almost twenty years of practice and it took her fifteen minutes to get it started. Not exactly a Battle Quirk.

The only offensive use she had ever got from it was the time when Natsuo accidentally walked in when she was changing and she had used it to blind him. 

“And you control it so well.”

“Thank you.” She wondered what her mother had thought when it had manifested. Yes, Mom always said it was pretty, but beyond that? Disappointment? Relief? It was a silly question, her Quirk was part of her, and so Fuyumi neatly put the doubts to the side. 

They sat there. Fuyumi flipped through her phone, checking appointment times, replying to emails. Tawakanda dropped by with a refill of coffee and, after spotting her seatmate, brought her one too. 

The other woman trembled once in a while and, though she must have been cold, she didn’t go inside or say anything, merely continued  to stare as the thick flakes turned the dilapidated courtyard into a winter wonderland.

The limousine comes to a smooth stop, and cooly, calmy Fuyumi says, “We are here.”

Touya gets out first. His every movement is a trial to her ears as he seems to hate every part of the car. The seatbelt is undone with a loud clatter. The hinges of the car door scream as he shoves it open. Even when he pushes against the leather seat to get up, he hits it with a resounding smack as if it were an unruly child.

Natsuo by contrast is a pale ghost of himself, and she has to reach over to unbelt him then slide him out the door. It’s a relief when she takes his hand in her and his grip goes from limp to something more solid showing that some part of her (only) little brother is still there.

She offers her other hand to Touya. When he takes it, she feels like a fox that has stepped into a trap. His hand clamps around hers, all stiffness and hard angles with no softness to be found.

There’s a gap between the limousine and the funeral home. They’re early and other than a few of Father’s sidekicks, no one is here.

One would think that they were about to be mobbed with the speed Touya marches towards the door, dragging the rest of them along. She has to jog to keep up, and poor Natsuo, who is more asleep than awake, is one wrong step from falling.

Natsuo lets out a squeak and they come to a sudden stop, and, when Fuyumi looks back, she finds a girl her own age holding him by the shoulder.

“You’re the Todorokis, right?” the girl asks, giving them a thin sad smile out from under a head of blonde curls. She doesn’t give them a chance to answer, before she is off again. “I am such a fan of your dad. I heard what happened and I wouldn’t know what to do if it was my little brother. So I had to see you and say how sorry I am, and check if your father’s taking care of you.” It comes out in one big rush and by the end, the girl is panting for breath.

“Thank you,” Fuyumi answers because what else is there to say?

“You doing well? ...silly comment with your dad, I bet he’s taking good care of you.”

Natsuo looks in the girl’s direction without really looking at her. “Father doesn’t take care of us,” he says, his voice little more than a whisper.

The girl looks shocked. “Why not? Is he hurt? Ill?”

Not to the best of Fuyumi’s knowledge. Father hasn’t come out of the training room since after Shouto's body had been found and Touya had come back. There’s a bathroom in there so he has water. She’s not so sure about food; she had tried to put food by the door, but Touya kept on burning it, saying if Father wouldn’t come out, he didn’t deserve to eat.

The girl continues on, “Does he feel guilty about not saving your brother from being kidnapped?—killed?”

Kidnapped. All of two syllables. The lie has a sort of neatness to it. Two syllables. Symmetrical. Easy to split in half. Unlike the three syllables it hides where you would have to cut into the lie's heart.

The thought barely finishes crossing her mind when Touya acts . 

He swings a leg under the girl’s feet, sending her tumbling face first towards the ground. Once she’s there he grabs her by an arm and drags her until she’s flat. Prone and helpless.

The girl had still been holding onto Natsuo and the entire thing happens so fast that only Fuyumi clutching him close stops him from falling as well.

The girl cries out in pain as Touya twists her arm, drawing Fuyumi’s attention downward. It’s then she notices something odd: the girl’s clothes don’t fit. The blouse is baggy in the chest, the pants are cinched tightly by a belt and the bottom of the legs has been rolled up multiple times. Even the colours are wrong, too conservative for a girl that age. It stirs something in the back of her mind. One of Father’s rare lessons that they all received. 

The one about the media.

“Age-shifting Quirk,” Fuyumi says. 

“Reporter,” Touya growls, and digs his knee deep into the softness of the woman’s armpit.

The reporter cries out again then nods, a rueful expression of all things on her face. “Easy there. Wouldn’t want this in the papers,” she says. “Wouldn’t look right, a trainee hero messing up a poor little girl. Especially when it’s one of Endeavor’s prodigés… ” She presses a finger to her cheek as if she is just remembering something. “Ooops, I mean his only prodigé.” Her smile is shark-like and looks wrong on such a young face. “Even worse if it’s his son.”

Touya barely seems to hear the words, glaring at the reporter unblinkingly. Where his hands hold the woman, Fuyumi can see the barest hint of smoke and there are small tongues of flames among his red locks.

No. She shoves herself between him and the reporter, and prays that her brother won’t tear right through her. 

“You’re not going to do anything,” she declares, pushing Touya backward so he releases the woman. Ice holds things together, Fuyumi reminds herself, and she is like the ice. Cool. Calm.

“And why not?”

“You’re not supposed to be using your Quirk.” Think. There’s a way out of this. She just has to find it.

“I’ve wriggled out of worse charges.”

Yes, that might do it. “You’re an adult pretending to be a kid and you’re grabbing at our little brother,” Fuyumi says and, trembling, she raises herself to her full height. “Our other little brother was kidnapped. They still don’t know how or by who...  Maybe he was kidnapped by someone who didn’t look dangerous—someone he thought he could trust—like another kid.”

From her spot on the ground, the reporter looks more amused than afraid. “Are you threatening me, kid? You have to know they’d find me innocent—right?”

Fuyumi bunches her hands in the silk of her white kimono and raises her head in defiance. “Maybe, but until then it would be awfully hard to do your job—right?”

The woman laughs  “You know you’ve actually got a point,” she chortles as she gets to her feet. “I think I will stay quiet. This little row”—she nods to Touya—”and chat”—she smiles at Fuyumi—”is the best entertainment I’ve had in a while. Looking forward to seeing you again.”

She brushes the dirt from her clothes and leaves.

Fuyumi decides not to take chances. She grabs Natsuo and, seeing the fuming Touya still watching the reporter, kicks him in the shins until he goes inside.

Fuyumi loved this part of her job. 

A bus had pulled up at the police station, dropping off more social workers and the North Korean children that Touya had rescued. They tentatively step into the courtyard and into an alien world made of white fragile beauty. With that, she opened her bags, spilling coats, snow pants and other winter clothes onto the ground.. 

When the children were all dressed, she and other social workers showed the kids how to play in the snow, and soon snow bunnies and snowmen dotted the landscape. 

It was not perfect but if she brought a little happiness into their lives... Well, in her experience, some was better than none, so she would take her victories where she could. 

“Would you like to join in?” Fuyumi asked the woman who is now watching the children with tears in her eyes. 

“No, I couldn’t… I-I’m just watching your Quirk in action. It’s-it’s so beautiful.” The woman dragged her gaze from the children and upwards to the place just above the station’s roof where the raindrops broke apart into flakes, and added with whimsy, “I wish my daughter had a Quirk like this.”

“Is she—?”

“No, no . My daughter is alive,” the woman said hastily. “She just ran away a while back. Given how resourceful she is, I am sure she’s fine. That’s why I am here. My husband’s inside right now checking with the detectives for any news.” She roughly wiped her face with the back of her hand. “It’s all my fault. She received a twisted version of my Quirk. Her counselor warned us that something like this might happen—that her Quirk might corrupt her—but I thought, ‘Not my girl. She was too good, too sweet to give into it.’”

Was that so? “Which counselor is that?” Fuyumi asked lightly while her ears were ready to drink in every word.

“Kaneko Sota,” the woman answers. “Lovely man was so supportive of me and my husband after she ran away.”

At the name, something slowly unfurled within Fuyumi. She may not feel the cold to the degree others do but she understood it. It could bring beauty and joy like the scene before her. It could preserve. It could also be a patient predator taking hours, days or weeks to wear down its prey, before making the killing blow.

Fuyumi’s phone buzzing broke her train of thought. She glanced down at it: the detectives wanted to talk to the first of the children. The rain’s stopped so she relaxes her hold on the weather and pushes herself to her feet.  

“I have to be going, but I’ve got something for you,” she said to the woman, removing a card from her wallet and passing it to her. “My brother’s the professional hero Luminous. Give him a call.”

“I couldn’t possibly impose.” But her vise grip on the card disagreed.

“Missing children cases are close to his heart.” And mine. “He’d want you to call.”

“I can’t possibly thank you enough.” The woman clutches the card close to her heart. “Can I get your name?”

“Fuyumi.”

“Toga Etsu.” 

The woman’s gaze strayed back to the children, and Fuyumi gave her a small nudge towards them. “Go on—play with them,” she said. “They’ve had a hard time and I imagine a motherly presence would be welcome.” A caring if flawed one.

Leaving the woman to help a boy put an ear on one of the snow bunnies, Fuyumi and another social worker guided a few of the kids inside. She was utterly unsurprised when she found her elder brother standing outside the interrogation room. He fit in at the police station but not in the way he ought to. With his old black jacket, loose gray t-shirt and ratty jeans, most would be more likely to mistake him for a criminal than a pro hero. He never liked wearing his costume one minute more than he had to.

Nodding at her co-worker, she indicated for him to get the children into the room, breathed deeply and turned to confront her brother. 

“Little brother,” she said.

“Big sister,” he replied with a hint of a smile.

It was a ritualistic joke from back to the days when she was the taller of the two, among other reasons. Touya had been extremely short until he had turned sixteen and started eating everything in sight. It was for the best that they had never applied the joke to Natsuo, as at eighteen, he had passed Touya, positively loomed over Fuyumi, and showed absolutely no sign of stopping.

“Surprised to see you here,” he said. “I thought you mainly deal with older kids.”

Her brother wasn’t stupid, so… Actualy, Touya could be plenty stupid—he had some blindspots that a full-grown Mountain Lady could walk through—but not about this sort of thing. She was here because he was, and he knew it.

“I’ll be the acting legal guardian for their interviews.”

“Impressive. Twenty-two and already able to boss around all the other social workers.”

Her boss had been worried about that so Fuyumi had sent him an email signed ‘ Todoroki Fuyumi’. The family name was a knife. It could cut through problems; however, the more she used it the duller it became. 

As for her coworkers…

One of them exited the bathroom, spotted Touya and dove back in.

...when they had found out which professional hero was involved, they had decided they were happy using Fuyumi as a human shield. 

“That means I get a say in the interrogations,” she stated and put a hand on Touya’s arm. “That means you won’t be part of them.”

Her brother’s face darkened.

Father’s sidekicks had offered to help with both the wake and funeral, but Fuyumi had known what that really meant. More than once, the cook and the maid had offered to ‘help’. What they really mean is they want to help with something simple and straightforward like buy them things or make a favourite meal. Never anything that she actually wanted like make Mother happy again or make Father care.

So when everything was being planned, she had done her own research and then had told them what to do. 

The research had been dizzying (made her feel as if she were drowning). She had been pretty sure they were supposed to be Buddhist as the family altar in the living area is a Butsudan. But what sect? How traditional? Mother’s from the Ryukyu Islands so that does that mean they bury the body instead of cremating?

When were you supposed to take the funeral money? Did you take it directly or could you use a collection box?

What sort of gifts do you give the attendees?

The list had gone on.

She feels like she had made her decisions by rolling dice. A few sidekicks had checked with Touya but he had just glowered at them and told them to do as she said.

She had made her choices. Now to live with them. 

The wake starts poorly. There’s a photo of Shouto smiling widely beside the altar. All his life he had been shy and getting him to smile was like panning for gold, an occasional glint of colour hidden among the dreary dirt. It feels wrong to show such a rare, intimate moment with so many people.

As for Shouto himself, he looks and doesn’t look like himself. 

He had needed a haircut before he died.  It has been done now but the style is all wrong, a crew cut opposed to Shouto’s preferred bowl. He had always said that he likes it because it felt like he had a blanket over his head. The crew cut makes him look strange, his jaw too small, his forehead bulbous.

A makeup artist had covered over the still (never) healing burn on his face, the needle mark on his neck, and covered up the blues and grays of his face, making the illusion of health and warmth.

The photo, the haircut and the makeup are all little lies. She fervently wishes she had remembered to tell the stylist about the haircut. Shouto deserves a little bit of the truth preserved. She should have remembered the haircut. Why hadn’t she remembered?

Touya’s anger, Natsuo’s distance, the reporter, the lies—they are all weights pressing down on her.

And they keep coming.

When the guests arrive, they give Touya the funeral money in their crisp little black and white envelopes, but soon it’s apparent that there are too many guests and Touya can only hold so many envelopes, and soon his and Natsuo’s pockets are bulging, and the pretty envelopes are being horribly bent, and there’s no table nearby to put them, and so Fuyumi has to go back and forth taking them to a table at the back of the funeral parlor, and this makes her feel like a postman and not like someone who’s supposed to be making everything alright, and…

and and and and and and and and and and

She returns after one trip to find Natsuo and Touya gone. Touya eventually storms back and when she asks about Natsuo, he says, “He was a problem. I sent him home.”

That’s okay, she thinks. Natsuo is still little. People won’t expect him to be around all of the time—right? Please, let her be right. She needs to stay cool and calm and hold everything together. That’s her job.

Later on after the formal part of wake is over, food and drink flow freely. This is the part where people are supposed to talk about Shouto. However, it quickly becomes obvious no one here knows him. 

The guests talk about how nice he was. How strong. What he looked like. Outlines without substance like an unused colouring book. Every once in a while, they try to fill it in and the picture they create looks like a cliche of a child, instead of a real human being. Other times they do worse and describe Shouto in the terms of Father. 

How Father taught Shouto to be nice. How Father taught him to be strong. How Shouto looked like Father. How Shouto wanted to be like Father.

Father who made sure they had a home. Father who made sure they had food. 

Father who is not here.

The little weights are adding up now but Fuyumi can’t afford to bend because everytime they mention him, Touya shakes and she’s worried that if she doesn’t watch him he will explode. Her job is to hold everything together. That’s her job.

“Why not?” Touya demanded. He shifted angrily under her hand. Nonetheless, he didn’t move away, tolerating if not accepting her touch. “I am the lead pro on the case. I’m supposed to be there.”

“You’re also allowed to select someone else to go in your place,” she reminded him, “and I’m asking you to do so.”

“Why?”

“Chiba, Huang, Sugimoto are a few reasons.”

Touya’s eyes flickered back and forth like he was reading something off an invisible screen. “Chiba Mamoru or Chiba Hiro? And I guess you’re talking about the Huang sisters and Sugimoto Ichiro?” 

“Mamoru and yes to the last two.” Four children out of hundreds he had dealt with. Touya’s memory could be intense, she thought with amusement. He still hadn’t forgiven her for the time where she had ‘prettied’ up his teddy bear with Mom’s makeup.

“What about them?”

“You hurt them.”

“I helped them,” he declared. God, she wished that she could have done this by email or texting or by putting a giant banner over the front of the interrogation room. It was cowardly but she hadn’t wanted to see the pain she was going to cause him.

“You did that too,” she allowed.

“Then why—?”

“You needed information from them and you kept on pushing until you got it.”

“So what? You think I pushed them a little too hard?” he countered. “If I hadn’t things would have been worse. Chiba’s siblings would still be stuck with their shithead parents. And the Huang sisters helped me stop the Hosu Trigger trade from using kids as mules. As for Sugimoto, if I hadn’t those other—”

“You shook them. Those children had had their lives torn apart, sometimes multiple times. They felt scared, helpless, angry; meanwhile, the person who should be helping—the person they should be able to trust—was piling more on.”

“They were safe,” Touya said.

She looped her arm through his own and guided him towards the window to the courtyard. Most of the children had joined in the fun by now. Most, but not all. Three had their backs pressed into the wall, their eyes blank. Even the ones who were playing were like deer on the edge of flight, freezing at every strange sound. 

“Touya, you know as well as I do, that’s anything but safe.”

She and Touya sleep at a hotel near the funeral parlor. When the morning comes, Fuyumi considers sending for Natsuo. Today’s the funeral and that’s reserved just for family and the priest. They wouldn’t be cremating Shouto yet in case he’s supposed to be entombed, so all there is more praying, incense and such.

It would be irresponsible to leave Natsuo with one of Father’s sidekicks, but...she’s just so tired. If anything, the night’s sleep has made her more so, and the thought of caring for Natsuo while watching Touya, keeping his temper in check, is more than she can bear, so instead just her and Touya head to the funeral together.

She knows it’s bad of her. She’s supposed to be cool and calm and hold things together. She’s supposed to be like ice. But she’s cracking. 

She’s supposed to be like—

“Mother!” she cries, the word torn from her throat before her mind catches up.

There are three women before her. Two are nurses but Fuyumi barely notices them because the third is just so beautiful. 

It is Mother. Dressed in a white kimono. Her hair, the colour of fresh snow, is tied in a perfect knot. It’s perfect. She’s perfect.

Her cry pulls Touya in. He runs from one side of the room to the other, his feet moving so fast that they barely touch the ground. The anger falling from his face for the first time in days, leaving a little boy in its place. “Mom?” he says, the words plaintively.

Their voices cause her to look up, her clear gray eyes focusing on them, and... 

Mother balks, curling in on herself and starts to shake and doesn’t stop.

The nurses eventually take her to a nearby room, all that remains are Fuyumi, Touya and the priest. 

And Shouto.

There’s nothing to do except continue the rituals. The priest does his chants. The smell of cloying incense fills the air and Fuyumi clutches her prayer beads—purchased just for the occasion—and wonders if even one of those 108 woodenspheres can offer one iota of peace. 

“Fuyumi?”

She looks up to find that the priest, Touya and even Shouto’s body are gone, and now she stands in the funeral parlor with two strangers. They’re an elderly couple, both dressed in white. 

“Fuyumi?” the woman repeats and reaches out a hand towards her. “I am so sorry we didn’t get to see you sooner. We should have met you and your brothers years ago, but...well, I imagine you know how ridiculous your parents can be.”

While they are strangers, they look familiar. The man has pure white hair. The woman has gray eyes. Are they…?

“It’s such a shame,” the man says. “I mean you even have my Quirk and—look at you!—you’re the picture of your mother when she was your age. Well...except for the glasses that is.” His wife elbows him in the ribs. ”But those just make your eyes all the prettier.”

Could they be...?

“We’re here because we heard your mother’s being a bit mental,” the woman says, taking Fuyumi’s hand and lightly and running her own over it. “And now we hear Enji’s joined her. So the thing is… We were thinking it might be best... ” She sighs and straightens herself. “Guess I might as well outright say it: me and your grandfather would like to take care of you and Natsuo.”

They are her grandparents. They want to take care of things. They want to take care of them.

Then a flower arrangement next to them bursts into flames and Touya, one hand upraised, is slowly walking towards her/his/their grandparents.

“ I told you to stay away, ” he says and even from here, Fuyumi can feel the rage vibrating through him like a pot about to boil. 

“Calm down, boy,” their grandfather says. “Shouto was our grandson. We have as much right to be here as you. Besides we want to help ”

“Is that right?” Touya’s tone turns strangely casual. “Then where were you before?” 

“Well, your father didn’t want us around—knew we’d try to shield you and your siblings… and your grandmother— your grandmother— She tried to talk your mother out of her plans to hurt Shouto.”

Tiny wisps of blue start to form in Touya’s hand, and Fuyumi shoves at his chest, trying to push him away from their grandparents.

Heedless to her efforts. Touya steps closer to them. “So you didn’t call the police. Hell, you could’ve even called our shitty dad. Why not?” he asks, a terrible distorted grin working its way onto his face.

“They wouldn’t have believed us. We did try it’s just—”

She needs to stop Touya. If he hurts them, everything will fall apart. He’ll be a villain. They’ll take him away. So, Fuyumi grabs his arm and tries to force it down. Then, just like with the reporter, Touya moves in a blur and Fuyumi finds herself stumbling by his side.

The wisps have multiplied and are condensing into something larger, hotter and infinitely more dangerous, and their grandparents are backing against the wall, their eyes widening. 

No, no, no, no. NO!

She runs, finding a hallway, and starts frantically opening doors. Her hands shake so badly that it seems to take forever to open even one. 

One door.. 

She’s calm. She’s cool.

Two.

She’s the oldest. The mature one.

Three. 

She’s ice. She holds things together. She has to.

Four.

She’s cracking.

Five.

There are the nurses. There’s Mother.

“Please,” Fuyumi begs, “Touya’s so angry. He’s going to hurt someone.” She can’t lose him. Not him too.

There’s shouting and screaming in the background, and the nurses look at her, her mother and each other. Finally, they march out, leaving her and Mother alone.

“Touya,” she said carefully, “I know you’re a good person, but sometimes you’re so determined to save the next person that you trample anyone in your way, including the people you just finished helping. Just slow down a bit—okay? Focus a bit more on being a hero to people who need help now and not just those you might help later.”

Her brother was like a taut string, every part of him ready to spring into action. She gently laid her head against his shoulder and watched as Touya focused on two children in particular. They were clinging to each other, and, despite ample layers, were shaking like leaves in a whirlwind. 

“Fine ,” he hissed, the sound more pain than anger. “I’ll ask Iida to do it. He should be done with his report and interview in a few.” 

“Thank you,” she said. 

He replied by crossing his arms over his chest; however, the rest of him eased, muscles unknotting and his eyes lost some of their intensity as the firestorms within slowed. 

“So…” Fuyumi said teasingly, “...would this 'Iida' be Ingenium?—the brave and kind man who helped you rescue the children?” She already knew the answer, but was curious about his reaction.

“Yes, that’s Iida ,” he said, emphasizing the name.

He hadn’t contradicted the ‘brave’ and ‘kind’ descriptions. He had even avoided using Iida’s hero name. That boded well. Typically Touya was skeptical of heroes and all too eager to roast any who didn’t meet his standards.

“He sounds nice. Mom thinks he makes for a very handsome boyfriend,” she said.

“Fuyumi,” he said, shifting uneasily from side to side, “about the whole boyfriend thing… Wait, what? Mom knows about him?”

“Yes, I forwarded the picture of you two to her.” Honestly, Fuyumi was surprised that Mom had been able to open the attachment. Their mother made Touya look like a savant with technology.

“So she knows I was in the hospital. Did you tell her?—did Natsuo?” he demanded.

“No, she told us.” The moment Fuyumi said it, she regretted it. There was only one other person who was liable to know that Touya was in the hospital and knew how to contact their mother. Fuyumi could already see Touya's wheels turning, gaining speed so rapidly that they were in danger of falling off the rails.

“He has no right to talk to her!” he growled.

“Touya.”

“After everything he’s done… and here he is presuming he can bother her.”

"Touya."

“And to hurt her like that. Making her needlessly worry is—”

“TOUYA!” she snapped. "She’s our mother!” Her hands bunched her pants so tightly that her nails were in danger of puncturing the fabric. “It’s her job to worry about us. She should! ”

Mother sits on a little sofa, her expression blank. Yet still beautiful.

Fuyumi wishes that wasn’t the case. She wants there to be some sort of mark on the woman. It’s like her mother’s been replaced by a china doll, outward perfection with nothing but emptiness inside.

“Mother, you trusted me to take care of them, but I don’t know how. I try and try and nothing goes right... Father won’t leave his training room, Natsuo’s a ghost…” Unbidden, a sob wrenches itself from her throat. “I saw some people who might be your parents, but Touya… He showed up and...he’s angry...and…  I don’t know what to do about him.  Please! Please, tell me what to do.”

There is no answer.

“Please Mother. Please Mom,” she begs. “Mom! MOMMY!"

Once again, she is met with silence so she leans against her mother’s shoulder, hoping the memory of comfort will be enough. 

But the woman sags under the weight, so Fuyumi slides past, falling.

She is Todoroki Fuyumi and not a trace of fire runs through her veins. She is cold. Her strength is that of the mighty glaciers. She—

is falling.

She has to be the eldest. To take care of things. She has to hold things together like ice. She—

is falling.

She has to be cool and calm and in control. That’s what she’s for. That’s her job. She—

She cracks her knees against the hard tile floor. Todoroki Fuyumi cracks. 

“I shouldn’t have to do this,” she whispers. “Aren’t you supposed to be taking care of us?” Fuyumi says. “That’s your job, right?”

She kneels before the statue of her goddess and waits for an answer that never comes.

At her outburst, Touya shut up. He wasn’t the only one. The entire station had gone silent and more than a few were staring at her. At his desk, Tamakawa’s fur was standing on end.

That...hadn’t been her best moment. She recovered herself and, pretending she didn’t have the fifty sets of eyes on her, continued in a more subdued tone, “I agree, Father shouldn’t have been the one to tell her, but she’s a lot stronger now.” You’d know that if you visited more. “Besides, it would hurt her a lot more if she found out later on.”

“Maybe,” Touya grunted. Apparently, her outburst had subdued him as well. “Sorry.” The look in his eye said that he’d be having words with their father later, but at least she wouldn’t have to bear witness.

“It’s alright… Just be careful. Sometimes you trample other people, not just kids. Often those who can help you.”

“I suppose I do.” Touya couldn’t quite meet her eyes at this, but quipped, “Your coworkers for one.”

“For one,” she agreed with a smile. It would certainly relieve them if he treated them a little less like tools or obstacles. “But there’s one other person, you could be a bit kinder to.”

“Oh, who?”

“You.” 

Predictably, Touya rolled his eyes at the comment. However, his body told another story. His hands were the obvious tattle-tales, the scars from his skin grafts were still bright pink. Soon they would fade as the doctors did an excellent job.

However if you knew what to look for, you’d find similar marks in subtle silver criss-crossing his skin.

Below both eyes. Ears. Chest. Arms and upper legs.

Not everywhere though. Some parts of him, such as his fingers, seemed to be entirely immune to flame; a fact that she took more than a little comfort in.

“Anything I can do to help you?” she asked.

“I updated my files on the missing teens. Could you pass the copies onto the detectives?” Touya produced five thick manila envelopes. They were bulging at the seams and the one labeled ‘Uraraka Ochako’ looked liable to explode. 

“Honestly,Touya?” she admonished. It was the absolutely tiniest thing she could do for him; nonetheless, she took them. Honestly, sometimes she thought that where Natsuo, Mom and she were concerned, he would drown rather than ‘inconvenience’ them by asking for a float. “Fine, how about a trade? I’ll keep an eye out for anything to do with this and you take a case for me.”

This got his attentioned. “What case?”

“There’s a couple whose daughter is missing. Maybe a bad Quirk counselor too. Can I refer them to you?” No need to mention that she already had.

“Let me guess: the Quirk counselor is Kaneko?”

Fuyumi kept her face carefully blank. “Correct.” 

He smirked at this. “And you say I’m vindictive.” She might have mentioned Kaneko a time or two. Or twenty.

“So, do we have a deal?” If Touya finally found something that stuck to that bastard, that would be good. If he found the Togas’ daughter, that would be better. Perhaps this was selfish of her, but if this would let her take a bit of the weight off his shoulders...

“Deal,” Touya said.

...that would be the best of all.

Fuyumi doesn’t remember when her pleading had turned to screaming. All she knows is that by the time the nurses return, her voice has turned as high and piercing as a banshee. The words she screams don’t matter. All she wants is some sort of reaction out of her mother.

One nurse guides her mother away while the other tries to calm her. Fuyumi can’t say that she minds the change in company. The nurse is a stranger. Her mother might as well be.

Soon her head is nestled in the nurse’s lap, her face covered with snot and tears while her screams turn into body-shaking sobs. 

The nurse cards too thick fingers through her red and white hair and assures her mother loves her and her siblings very much. That her mother wants to help but she is badly hurt. That with the right care and consideration, she will come back to them.

At the last comment, Fuyumi wants to start screaming again. Hurt? Her mother had been right there. There had been no cuts, bruises or broken bones, she was just spineless. She has given Fuyumi all these responsibilities and wouldn’t give a word of advice or comfort. She doesn’t scream though because what would be the point? 

Eventually Touya comes for her, puts an arm around her shoulders and drags her to her feet. 

This time she’s grateful for his forcefulness as he pulls her back to the limousine and, after that, back into their house. One of Father’s sidekicks is there, the one covered in bandages. He and Touya exchange brisk words for a few minutes, and, somewhere in the middle of this, the sidekick asks where he can find extra linens and a pillow.

She supposes that he’s planning to spend the night and she ought to be a good hostess by setting up a guest room. Instead she drifts back out the door.

The house looks too familiar. A lie of normality covering a gaping hole. In comparison, the outside world is a relief. It changes. Cars pass by the house, no two alike. The wind wends its way through the trees, causing their leaves to lightly rustle.  

Fuyumi is still wearing her indoor slippers, and cool mud sinks through the material. It makes a pleasant squishy sensation between her toes, so she lies down allowing it to pull her into its embrace.

The sun is setting when Touya joins her, clasping one of her hands between his two, which—she notes with distant amusement—makes him look like he’s praying.

As the light fades, so does his anger, draining away to leave a wan boy in its wake. Fuyumi finds herself wishing for the angry one back. At least when he’s angry he doesn’t want a big sister; this version of Touya looks like he needs one. Nonetheless, out of habit more than anything else, she wearily starts preparing soothing words.

Touya speaks before she can. “I’ve been a bad big brother,” he says. “There are so many...many things I should have done that I didn’t. I didn’t help Mom with you all. I didn’t stop Dad from hurting Mom. I didn’t stop him from hurting Shouto. I didn’t stop Shouto from being kidnapped.”

The last word hits her like a wrong note. Of all of them, Touya is the least afraid of Father and even he uses the lie. Still, she can hardly blame him since denial is practically a Todoroki family activity. Besides, ‘kidnapped’ is easier to digest than ‘runaway’.

“I’m going to be better. I will. You won’t have to worry about anything,” he promises and Fuyumi realises what he’s offering.

To fill the places their parents refuse to.

To take the too heavy mantle of oldest.

To wear it willingly.

“I'll protect you and Natsuo. Do what I should have done before… What I should have done for Shouto. I’ll take care of everything.” Throughout this, Touya speaks, calm and cool like ice. 

But even now, Fuyumi thinks she can hear a faint crack.

“No!” she yells, wrenching herself out of the grasping mud and throwing her arms around her brother. He’s warm, too warm, but she doesn’t care. She is so sick of being cold. “We’ll do it together.”

He doesn’t agree. He never will.

But for now, they hold each other tight, bathing in the reds and golds of a dying sun.

And when the darkness comes, together they wait for a new one to be born. 

Chapter Text

The Blood We Share

Chapter 6

Kaminari Usagi glances up from her book towards the living room wall clock. It reads 11:03 AM and her little brother Denki has yet to make an appearance. They’re supposed to go for breakfast together, a little congratulation present for him getting into Yuuei, but she’s held off on waking him. 

Ever since he had taken the entrance exam, he had been a bundle of nerves…and, come to think of it, he had been one before the exam as well. She had hoped that getting his resultsーher little brother going to Yuuei!ーwould have calmed him down but no such luck. 

One way or another, he’s been sleeping sporadically at best; thus, she has held off on waking him because he finally seems to be getting some rest. Now, however, it’s getting a bit ridiculous and so she sets her book aside and climbs the stairs up to Denki’s attic room.

When she reaches it, her lips quirk upward. For years now, he’s tried out various hero names, with each week having a new one boldly printed on the middle of his bedroom door. Now, after his acceptance, he’s gone positively mad with it. There doesn’t seem to be an inch of the thing that isn’t covered with a possibility.

She knocks a few times and gets no answer.

At this rate, they’re going to miss brunch as well, so Usagi knocks a few more times, warns him that he “better be dressed” and enters. Sure enough, Denki is still fast asleep. Facing away from her, he is so tightly cocooned in his blankets that only a puff of blond hair is visible. 

Even like this he seems huge when compared to that bundle their parents brought home. She has grown upーheck, her boyfriend is not too subtly asking about her favourite ring shapes and gemstonesーand now her little brother is almost there as well. They’ve come a long way from the days when his only concern with heroes was which of her action figures would be the best to chew on.

A mischievous thought crosses her mind, and Usagi snatches a marker from Denki’s desk and tiptoes around the bed. They may no longer be children, but that doesn’t mean they have to abandon all childishness. Denki will likely have a fit about her screwing with his ‘cool’ rocker persona, but the marker is hardly permanent. A splash of water and the hysterics will be over.

He shows no sign of stirring as she finishes rounding the bed. His face is now visible, skin flush with sleep and lashes pushed hard against his cheeks. So, resisting the urge to giggle, she leans towards it, marker at the ready and...pauses.

Denki looks wrong. His colouring is a little too pink. His features too sharp. Is he sick?

She reaches over and presses the back of her hand against his forehead. And where there should be soft skin, she finds nothing but unyielding wood.

“Mom?” she calls, as she touches more of him and finds nothing but more wrongness. “ Dad! ” Soon the screaming begins, the sound of it high and rough as her own throat tries to strangle her. 

Beside her, the wooden mannequin of Kaminari Denki slept, unmoved by the chaos it has sown.

In Touya’s experience, interrogation rooms varied from building to building. That being said, the core of them remained the same. There always was a silvery one-way mirror, the lights were always either too bright or too dark, and the walls were always cement or stone and painted in the same dull suffocating colours.

From beside him, Detective Tsukauchi pressed a button to start the recorder. “Before we get started, I am legally obligated to tell you how my Quirk works; I can recognize when an individual is knowingly telling a falsehood. And I will be using it throughout this interrogation,” he said. “Does everyone confirm that they understood this as I stated and as explained in the documents that were provided to you?”

“Yes,” said Touya.

“Yeah, whatever,” Watanabe said, sniffing as if this entire thing was an affront to his sense of decorum. 

What decorum, Touya didn’t know, unless killing people by shooting them with fingernails was  dignified. His business attire didn’t help as the lines are a mass of wrinkles and only a few buttons matched their holes. Frankly, he wore the suppression cuffs with more propriety. 

In response to his cavalier answer, Watanabe’s lawyer shot him a stern look before answering, “Yes, I understand.” She leaned towards the recorder, her lips nearly kissing it. “I also want it to be clear that as Tsukauchi is previously connected to this case, his testimony as to what is and isn’t true may be...biased.” 

They all affirmed this with Touya resisting the urge to grunt his answer.

On the list of things that ‘Todoroki Touya liked to do’, these formal interrogations ranked somewhere between root canals and opera. A major reason being that Tsukauchi had to give away their chief advantage every time. 

Another was that of nine traffickers in custodyーwith eight more dead and six having escapedーTouya and Tsukauchi had interrogated eight of them and almost all the information they had gained had been in the first interview, and little new in the subsequent ones. On the bright side, this was the last one and soon the hellish boredom would be over.

Watanabe scratched himself then said, “The lady here”ーhe waved a limp hand at his lawyerー“said I ought to say that ‘I’m gonna cooperate completely’. So here I am telling you, I am going to cooperate completely.”

Despite Watanabe’s relaxed demeanor, Tsukauchi twitched, and Touya was stirred from his lethargy by the sweet taste of blood in the water. 

None of this bothered the lawyer. She had to know this was a lie but she also knew full well that mindreading and truth Quirks could be used to guide an interrogation but not used as outright proof. Her only reaction was to sit up straight and with prim smugness cradled her hands in her lap. “How about we get going?” she said, favouring him with a placid smile. “Todoroki-san, would you start us off?”

Placid, eh? The word didn’t apply to either of them. She had opened by throwing a pebble into his shoe. He had told her to call him by his given name. It was a common enough trick, but still hearing the ‘Todoroki’ without ‘Touya’ following it grated. 

Instead of letting it show, he put the annoyance behind a wall in his mind and got down to business. “You are part of the Jabba gang?”

“Obviously.”

Touya started with the facts that the other gang members provided. “You and your gang trafficked children?ーmostly North Korean ones?” Unfortunately, the rescued group one had not been the only one. Based on what the others said, at least a hundred had been transported through the building.”

“Is that the language they were gabbling on in?” Watanabe raised a brow. “Huh. But no, we didn’t traffic them. We just held them and until they got transferred to the next location.”

“What was your job at Carkoon?”

“My job?” Watanabe answered. “Put the kids in the cell. Took them out when needed. Sometimes fed them. Sometimes got them water."

“So jailor.”

“Uh huh, I guess.” He flashed yellow teeth. “But better money. They actually gave us a living wage.”

Tsukauchi stepped in. “Earlier you reported that your gang dealt with some teenagers and not just younger children.” He slid forward the photos of Inoe, Uraraka, Fujima, Kaminari and Monoma toward him. “Do you recognize these ones?”

Watanabe studied them. “Yeah. They all came in sometime in February. Night of Feb 13th. I remember because it was my old lady’s birthday and I had to miss it. And b oy she was pissed. She ended upー” His lawyer shot him a frigid look and he returned to the subject. “Also they were the only ones that actually spoke Japanese opposed to some foreign bullshit..” He looked upward in thought. “They left the next night.”

“How’d the kids get moved in and out?”

“Dunno.” 

“What do you know?”

Watanabe shifted, trying to find comfort in a chair pillaged from a torture chamber. “Every once in a while, the bosses and their besties would go down to P3 and come up with a couple kids for me to put in the cell. Other times, they’d have me fish out particular kids then they’d bring ‘em down to P3 and come back alone.”

“And Bakugou Katsuki? One of your colleagues said he was going to be transported. Why was he up on P1?” 

“Shriek said we were getting a different courier this time. Told me we needed him up there.”

Muscular as a courier? Unlikely.

“How’d you know which kids to pick?”

“Echoーthat was Narcissus’ lady"ーand one of the missing crooksー"would put tattoos on the back of their necks. Either a koi fish, a lily or a butterfly. I’d grab a kid based on which one they had.”

Touya could taste bile in the back of his mouth. They’d marked the kids like cattle. Marked and sold to what sounded like three different buyers. “When were the tattoos done?” he asked. Once more he shoved his growing rage behind the wall.

“Sometimes right away. Sometimes a day or two later?” 

So maybe some of the kids were ‘ordered’ ahead of time and others were bidded on? It’s something he had seen before. 

‘Do you remember which kids had which?”

“The hero wannabes. I can do that.”

Watanabe pointed to two photos, both girls. The one on the left had bright pink cheeks while the other was slightly hunched and had slits instead of a nose, both were beaming at the camera. Uraraka and Fujima. Quirks Zero Gravity and Zombie. “Butterflies for them,” he informed them.

Watanabe switched to the photos of Monoma and Kaminari. The former could temporarily copy Quirks while the latter could absorb and discharge electricity. Both boys appeared obsessed with hair care as Monoma didn’t have a hair out of place while Kaminari had a hairdresser’s worth of product in his spikes. “They got lilies.” 

That left Inoe for the koi fish. Quirk Plant Growth. The smallest of the five, the brunette was shown in muddy jeans and what looked like living vines twisting through the loops to make an improvised belt.

“And the Korean kids?” Tsuchi prompted.

“I think almost all of them ended up with koi on their necks,” said Watanbe. “Beyond that? Fuck if I remember. All those Kimchis looked alike,”

“Yeah, I hear that a lot.” Touya commented drily, a lot of people who traded human lives said similar things.

“So you know what I mean, right?"

“Suppose so...” Touya said.“Unfortunately, I heard it so many times. It makes you and those others sound way too alike. Maybe you should do something about that. I could...help.” He rolled the last word around in mouth, the syllables tickling his tongue.

Touya would definitely be happy to offer his services there. Some smoke inhalation damage to lungs would make Watanabe’s voice rougher. Or how about a nice burn directly to the area of the vocal cords? That would make Watanabe’s voice certainly distinct or, better yet, shut him up entirely. 

It made for a pleasant fantasy, helping him keep his own voice calm when he asked his next question. “Anything other parts to your job?”

“Nah.”

Tsukauchi cocked his head. “Please,” he said, “think some more.”

The truth turned out to not be especially spectacular as Watanabe blushed and confessed, “It could be a crappy job at times. Literally. I was in charge of dealing with the crap. You know shit and piss stuff?”

“So you took them to the bathroom?”

As if deeply contemplating the question, Watanabe tapped his fingers against the metal table, the black polish on his nails gleaming in time with the clatter he made. “Sure, I took them wherever their dear little hearts felt like it.” Then he rolled his eyes. “ No. Of course not! I gave them buckets and emptied them every few days or so.”

Buckets. Hard to use at the best of times. But given some of those kids looked to be toddles and all of them had to use them in the dark… Fuck. A literally shitty situation. 

That being said, neither the room or the kids had stunk to the high heavens, and presuming the room got hosed out between groups… Those Korean children likely hadn’t been there long, a day or two tops. So whoever had got them into the country might be still around. He jotted this down in his notebook.

“And you? What did you use?” Touya asked. He leaned back, languidly molded his body to the chair, every part of him relaxed other than his eyes which stayed fastened to Watanabe, like a panther on its perch, casually watching it's prey.

“Wha?”

“What did you guys use for bathrooms?” Watanabe had been a bit too casual for his taste up to now, so Touya pressed against the wall in his mind and let some of its heat seep in. Letting the crook watch as it caused Touya to bare his teeth.

Watanabe’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Uh...toilets?” he answered.

“Not porta-potties?” 

“No, regular kind. Running water and everything.” The crook shifted and Touya could practically hear the whirring in his brain as Watanabe tried to work out why the idea of children living in their own shit might piss Touya off. 

“That’s nice for you." Touya’s mouth opened further, forming what only an exceedingly generous person would call a smile. 

Finally, something clicked in Watanabe’s brain and his eyes widened. “Look! It wasn’t personal,” Watanabe said, the words almost falling over each other in the haste to come out. “If… If it was me in charge, I wouldn’t have done it.” Touya didn’t need to check with Tsukauchi to tell that was a lie. “The bosses made it clear to interact as little with the kids as possible. Other than me and a few of their best buddies, the rest of the guys did security.”

“Still, awfully nice set up for you guys. Electricity, running water, cameras, security cameras. Even Quirk suppression cuffs. Where did they come from?” 

“I don’t know.”

“Who was kind enough to set that up? Maybe you should thank them.” The electricity and water was surprising. The cuffs expensive and hard to make. Someone with some power and contacts had to have done it.

“Don’t know.”

“Think,” Touya instructed in an oh-so-friendly tone. “I am sure there’s something useful you know.” In a liquid motion, he rippled towards, sitting upright, eyes never straying from the crook, nodded to Tsukauchi. Watanabe might be driving, but the detective was now in charge of picking the route.

“Was the building set up like that when you got there?” the detective asked.

Watanabe had been focused on Touya and his unblinking stare that he started when Tsukauchi spoke up. “Uhm… uh… The water and cameras and electricity too were running when I got there. We were kind of surprisedーreally nice digs.”

“And the suppression cuffs?”

“The bosses and their besties brought them up from P3.”

Watanabe might be driving, but the thing about driving was that having your attention split was never a good thing. Driving and noisy kids. Driving and cell phones. Driving and maps. Watanabe’s attention was split between Tsukauchi's questions and Touya's form, looming for all the man was less than a inch taller than him. His rodent eyes flitting back and forth between his interrogators.

This led to him unknowingly crash into an area that the other members of his gang had steadfastly avoided.

“The bosses and a couple of their besties brought ‘em up from P3. I guess they could have already been there. P3 is one big junk dump. Or maybe was. I gather Luminous here went all pyro on the place. Super cool that.” He grinned at Touya as if he thought the man would take the statement as a compliment.

After a good minute of Touya staring back at him, his own ‘friendly’ demeanor never flickering, the grin shrivelled and died.

“Anything else?” Watanabe asked Tsukauchi, his tone edging on pleading.

“And ‘the bosses and their besties’ are…?”

“Nobody really went by their real name. I was ‘Nails’. Bosses were Shriek and Narcissus. The besties were their buddies. All of them higher on the totem pole than me.” Touya doubted that, given that Watanabe was the one of the only people allowed to interact with the kids. “Those were Ragdoll, Mumps and Mullet, but good luck getting info out of them.”

This was good. This was useful. The others had been circumspect about who were the Jabbas current leaders.

“Why?”

“Last I heard: that tengu shit blew up Mumps. Some debris crushed Mullet. Muscular squashed Shirek and sent Ragdoll to sleep with the fishies… literally.” He let out a nervous laugh. “And Narcy? He got the fuck out of there, broken leg and all. Wiley bastard.” 

Watanabe was no longer looking at Touya or Tsukauchi, instead intently focused on the table and he let out another laugh, this one more frantic. His breath was speeding up now, taking up a a ragged tone as Watanabe’s one brain cell started to process the implications of what had happened to the knowledgeable gang and what that might mean for him.

They were losing him.

Grabbing the photo of the life-sized doll of Kaminari Denki, Touya shoved it all but it in his face. “What about this? There were five of themーone for each of the five teenagers. “What do you know?”

“I dunno. Some fucked up art project maybe?” Watanabe replied, pulling as far away from the photo and Touya as he could without standing, pushing his back into the back of the chair so that its top dug in under his shoulder blades. 

Good, Touya had his attention again. He pressed his advantage. “What about the ones who got awayーany idea where they’d be?”

“No.”

Tsukauchi gave a shake of his head at the statement and so Touya looked the crook directly in the eyes and said, “ Try. Again. ”

“I have no idea.” 

“Yes, you do.” 

“No, I don’t. I barely knew them. They-they could be anywhere.” 

“You’re lying.” It was ridiculous. There was a human lie detector sitting at the table, and still the guy had the audacity to lie. 

“I AM NOT!” shouted Watanabe as by increasing his volume, he could turn the lie into a shield. His hands bent into claws so that his nails pointed at his interrogators as he instinctively tried to use his Quirk despite the suppression cuffs. “What more do you want from me?” 

“The truth.”

Watanabe twisted and turned in his seat, and Touya luxuriated in the fear that he could feel rolling off him. He was about to break. Just one more push.

“Todoroki-san!” the lawyer snapped. She had been so silent up until now that he had almost forgotten. Now she broke in with a vengeance. “He has been cooperating. He is going to continue to cooperate. So cease badgering my client this instant!” Her every syllable was sharp, precise and cold as Arctic ice.

She turned to Watanabe and, putting a comforting hand on his arm, gave him the same ‘placid’ smile from before. There was a pause and some sort of wordless message passed between the two. 

Warning bells went off in Touya’s head.

“I am cooperating despite all this bullshit,” Watanabe said to Touya. “Why I am, I got no idea. Especially since you sicced a freakin’ vigilante on my buddies.”

“Vigilantes?” the lawyer exclaimed. “Is this true, Todoroki-san?” 

The surprise was an act. The mention of a vigilante had been in her briefing, but for the sake of the damn recorder, Touya was forced to play along. “The Crawler was in the building when we got there,” he explained, using the lines that he and the others had agreed upon ahead of time. “He was in there for the same reason too. As trying to arrest him would have messed up our chances of saving the kids and as he has a decent reputation, we decided to work together.”

Tsukauchi liked the Crawler but this way, he couldn’t have called Touya out on a lie even if he had wanted to. The little speech might be as manufactured as styrofoam but it all was technically true.

“So you say.” Watanabe bit out the words. “This from the guy who showed up with his other caped pig buddies, and, next thing I know, I get burnt and drowned. Then when I was unconscious, you burned me AGAIN and go on to threaten me.”

“These are serious allegations. Watanabe-san, you should have told me before,” exclaimed the lawyer. 

Once again it was in her briefing and once again the damn recorder demanded its toll, and feeling like a dog, trained to bark on command, Touya said, “Muscular was attacking. I needed him awake.”

“And the threats?” she questioned, luxuriating in the veneer of horror at her client’s ‘mistreatment.”

“I needed him out of there.”

“You threw fucking giant fireballs at me!” Watanabe hissed. “You could have just told me. I’m not an idiot . I would have run!”

Not how he remembered things. Not unless Watanabe had an identical twin. Despite himself, a bitter laughter bubbles up and slid out Touya’s lips.

Watanabe sneered. “That’s the sort of thing I’d expect from Endeavor’s baby boy. The Daddy roasted me all those years back and now the son had doneーis still doingーthe same. Endeavor Junior. Same Hell Flame with twice the hot-headedness.”

The conversation had now become a show. Watanabe and the lawyer’s lines have a sing-song undertone as if they’ve been recited a dozen times. The crook’s gaze constantly flicked back toward the lawyer, silently asking his director if he was playing the part correctly.

Touya could hear the damn walls sliding inward, feel them only inches from his skin. He bunched his hands, resisting the urge to simply blast his way out and through all the crap. He started to say somethingーwhat he didn’t knowーwhen Tsukauchi grabbed him by the shoulder.

“It’s almost lunch,” he said, smiling politely. “How about we take a break?”

After the lawyer and Watanabe exited, Tsukauchi left and returned with chopsticks and two bowls of ramen. As Tsukauchi dug into his, Touya stared at the case documents on the table. He dropped the picture of Kaminari Denki’s ‘replacement’ on the top of the pile.

Whoever made the thing was a goodーif seriously fucked upーartist. The mannequin was hollow and carved from wood with a wig that matched Kaminari’s natural colour and hair style, but that didn’t do the thing justice. The limbs were completely poseable and the proportions accurate. Life had been breathed in due carefully mixed and used paints. But the head was where the true ‘artistry’ came in. Its eyes were closed, the mouth relaxed and even the hair had been lightly mushed, making it look like it was serenely sleeping. 

Touya looked away from the picture, and instead perused the reports for the kidnapped kids and the freshly printed interrogation transcripts of the traffickers. Sending a poisonous look at Watanabe’s, he said, “It’s shit.” 

“Some of it. Other than the stuff about completely cooperating and having no idea where the others are, it was true. Frankly, the lawyer lied more than he did,” Detective Tsukauchi pointed out. He passed Touya his ramen and when the man merely looked at it said, “For what it’s worth, we could offer him a deal provided he gives us info on the escapees.”

“Won’t work,” Touya grunted. 

“Why not?

“Firstly, the nailpolish.” Quirks like Watanabe’s meant losing nails constantly.

“No point of wearing it unless he knew that he wasn’t getting out soon,” Tsukauchi observed, following the train of logic.

But the second was the better proof.“He’s scared. They all are. Those villains weren’t sent to kill us; they were there to kill the higher ranked traffickers. “They killed them first before dealing with us.” He and Tengu’s job had been to kill any useful informants.

It made sense especially with Muscular. One didn’t make someone like him a ‘courier’ of all things. Touya would bet anything that Tengu and Muscular had killed the higher ranked traffickers in the lobby first. When that had been done, Tengu had scampered and Muscular had gone to P1. There he had gone straight for Shriek then. As for why he hadn’t gone after Narcissus, he had likely figured that with that broken leg, he wouldn’t go anywhere. 

“So Watanabe’s afraid that if he gives too much useful information, whoever arranged things like the power and suppression cuffs will go after him.” Tsukauchi sighed. “I can still press him for information. Maybe he’ll take the deal after all. I could also check aroundーsee if I can get him into witness protection if he cooperates.” 

“‘I’?” Touya quoted.

Tsukauchi’s lips thinned. “The lawyer is going to claim he has prior trauma due to encounters with your father. That being exposed to his son will further traumatise him. You saw that show they set in motion when you got too close.”

“Yes,” Touya grunted. That was the thing he hated the most about ‘proper’ interrogations was that the crooks could be right there , within arms reach, lying their ass off and what could he do? 

Nothing.

They were more afraid of the other rats than the rat catchers. If they got caught, the worst case scenario was for them to end up in a cage, protected with bars of legality and precedence. No wonder rats kept crawling out of the woodwork, gnawing and defecating on anything good and whole.

“What will you do now?” Tsukauchi asked.

What he wanted to do was go join Fuyumi, Iida and Tanuma for the interviews with the kids. He had wanted to do that in the first place. He trusted the police to get useful information out of criminals, but kids not so much. Children were too prone to getting reality mixed up with what they wanted reality to be.

Daddy loves me. Brother would never hurt me. Mother knows best.

Sometimes you had to tear through the padding of innocence to get to reality. It was in the kids’ best interest really. Sooner they told what they knew, the sooner that the rats who tormented them would be off the streets and away from them. Maybe, if he explained this to Fuyumi, she would understand. She would...

...kick him out a second time. What had he done to deserve such a stubbornly sweet sister? So he’d wouldn’t bug the kids, and keep his promise to her.

For now at least.

“I’ll check with some of my sources,” he answered. Compress would be hosting another Le Theatre de la Lune soon. He might find some useful info there. At the very least, he’d be able to send out feelers.”

The door to the interrogation had been left open. The lively bustle of the station compared to the claustrophobic interrogation room made the doorway seem like a portal into another world. Ironic given that first thing came to mind on how the kids were being transported was that they were being teleported.  

As Iida had pointed out, teleporters were rare. But who knew? Maybe Tengu was one. Maybe the underworld had heard of unregistered ones in the area.

“The ‘fun’ kind of sources? Tsukauchi said wryly.

‘Fun’ as in ones that could lead you to being eviscerated, fried, and flailed among other things? That was about right. “Them and some more pedestrian sources.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

Touya opened his notebook and scribbled. When done, he ripped the filled pages off and handed them to the detective.

“We’ll do this,” Tsukauchi said after looking over the first page, “but I also meant if you wanted help with the ‘fun’ stuff. Someone to watch your back. My job can get boring at times.” His light joking tone turned serious before he continued. “Besides, I don’t like that we give all the dangerous work to the heroes. I swore to protect people as well.”

“We’re the ones stupid enough to run around in Halloween costumes. We deserve the dangerous work,” Touya retorted.

“I disagree. It’s part of the job yes, but that doesn’t mean you deserve it. Nobody does. Besides, some of you guys are bad enough taking care of yourselves.” Tsukauchi gave him a significant look and, using a chopstick, pointed at Touya and then down to the untouched ramen in front of him. “A little backup might be just what you need.”

Touya rolled his eyes and grabbed his chopsticks.

When Tsukauchi was satisfied that Touya had ingested a reasonable amount of food, he said, “Those hero students you’re looking for, do they deserve what’s happening to them because they signed up for it? At that age, did you?”

Chapter Text

The Blood We Share

Chapter 7

"I need your help."

After throwing a few more ideas Tsukauchi’s way, Touya left the station at a brisk pace. He had parked a ways away and he didn’t want to take forever getting there.

This had a couple upsides. While his white van blended in with the thousand of delivery vans in the city and he had a number of dummy license plates for it, keeping it a distance from the station, kept it from being associated with law enforcement. Made it seem more generic and helped it blend into the backdrop of the city. Another upside was that the rain had left a plethora of puddles, each one providing him a little break from his constantly high body temperature.

Unfortunately, the downside of the distance was it gave him time to mull over the less ideal events of the day. Being booted from both the interrogations and the interviews with the kids. The fact that he had largely done it to himself both times, did not make him feel any better. 

The former was due to the ridiculous legal dances that law enforcement had to play, even when the criminals in question were guilty beyond the pale. Watanabe and his ilk ought to have been thanking him on bended knee for overlooking their filth and rescuing them. Ought to have spilled every last secret, thanking him for the opportunity to do so. But no, because they knew that they would be coddled and protected, they played games when they ought to be spilling secrets. And because of this protection, he had had to shuffle himself out like a irksome dog.

As for the latter, of all the various things that he enjoyed in life, being chastised by his little sister ranked somewhere between root canals and opera. Being chastised by his little sister when she was right, made the experience plummet past the yodeling fatties and dangerously close to being stuck in a room with hero fanboys and girls who were yammering on and on about which hero was the ‘bestest’ ever. He had experienced all these things, and the last of which made the idea of reducing his ears to char an awfully tempting proposition.

Eventually, he spotted the red car that he had parked beside and… Fuck. 

Touya's thoughts went back to the positive aspects of self-mutilation and added his eyes as preferred targets. His generic van wasn’t so generic anymore - what with the gigantic purple dick emblazoned on the side and everything. 

He looked it over then looked back at the red car. Painted with faux flames up both its sides, it was one of those impractical sports models that were all engine and thus were lucky to have room to store your wallet let alone groceries. Never mind that living in the city, you wouldn’t be able to get to a tenth of its top speed.

Why mess with his inoffensive van when someone’s perfectly good midlife’s crisis was right next to it?

One way or another, he’d have to have the phallic symbol removed if he was going to use it for anything sneaky. So he accessed the bank app on his phone to check his account balance. Or at least he tried to. 

Yeesh, Natsuo and Fuyumi had assured him that using the app would be easy; however after holding its icon and pressing the little ‘x’ that came up over it, the app disappeared altogether from his phone. Instead he did it his normal way: mentally he reviewed his past purchases and put it against his last known bank balance and calculated the result. He had explained this method to Natsuo one time and his little brother had groaned at the very idea.

Right now, Touya wanted to groan. A new paint job would not be good for his finances.

Before he could start whining about it, his phone rumbled.

He’d been expecting something like this. Two of the still missing kids, Monoma and Kaminari, had been shoe-ins for Yuuei. If things had been different, they could have ended up Aizawa’s students. Meanwhile, the rescued Bakugou Katsuki - aka. Nutball Suicidal Kid - was one.

He supposed that he should count himself lucky that his old mentor hadn’t been calling him day and night demanding everything he knew. People assumed that because Aizawa was stoic that he didn’t have a temper; however, if you hurt one of his kids, well… 

Boulders were stoic. That wouldn’t stop one from crushing you.

Only Aizawa would call in ‘sick’ while remaining at his workplace.

No scratch that. Only Aizawa could do that while getting away with it. On the best of days, the guy ran on negative fifty hours of sleep and would still drag himself into work. Principal Nedzu got bored easily; it was all too easy seeing him let Aizawa get away with it, if only for the sheer novelty.

On a whim to see what his mentor knew, Touya tapped out a message.

Apparently, Aizawa knew at least one thing he hadn’t predicted. Touya wondered who in the station was his contact.

He sent a few more ‘protesting’ texts toward Aizawa, hoping to glean some more information, but when ten or so messages were still waiting for a reply, the meaning was clear: ‘no’ was not an acceptable answer; Touya had to show.

It was tempting to get straight to work; however, it had been almost a week since he’d been home and he had a couple hours.

This business had all the signs of a major case: multiple villains, large numbers of international children for sale, never mind the local hero kids, and at least three groups as buyers. He had a responsibility to his siblings.

So when he reached the Todoroki estate, he looked around. Though not before parking directly in front of the house, doing so in such a way that the van’s newly acquired decoration was clearly visible to the neighbourhood and that there was no doubt which house it belonged to.

He patrolled both sides of the walls of the estate, checking for them for damage and any sunken patches in the soil nearby that might indicate tunneling. Then checking each and every camera for signs of tampering. Finished he went on to going over the house exterior, going about it identically except for adding looking over the locks and hauling himself onto the roof to look there as well.

He finished up by entering the house checking out the security room. Admittedly, he might not be the most...gifted person to assess it, but he could at least see that the feeds were up and running.

The rest of the house appeared empty. It wasn’t of course. No doubt the maid and cook were hiding in some corner or another like the rodents they were. They tended to avoid Touya and that was fine with him. Despite all the things which they had witnessed over the years, they had shoved their heads firmly up their asses and pretended everything was normal. They had only quit when the abuse had been aimed at them, and even then had come back when the Old Man had raised their pay. Money-hungry toadies, the both of them. 

He headed to the kitchen. If he was going to have to save money, that meant no buying food or eating out when he was at the office. There, he put on a kettle for tea, grabbed a bag and started rooting around the fridge for stuff he could stash in his agency’s kitchenette. In addition to the standard fair, he met with a number of premade bento boxes with ‘Touya’ written on each of them.

Fuyumi’s handiwork was all over this. But Natsuo’s was not far behind, as the young man had neatly labeled each of them with the ingredients and the nutritional value. Aware of how much his elder brother ‘loved’ seafood, he had put a small essay attached to the fish one about all the benefits of eating the despicable animal. Natsuo had even gone to attach a photo of himself looking at the camera with a pleading expression.

Touya felt one corner of his mouth pull upward. Yeesh, Natsuo was such a nerd. And as for the photo? Puppy dog expressions from one’s little brothers shouldn’t work when said little brother was almost a foot taller than you.

In fact, it didn’t work. The only reason Touya put the fish bento in the bag with the other ones was because he didn’t want to waste food. Only reason.

Finished, he made himself a mug of green tea and sat, sipping it, while staring down the hallway that led to the training room. As he did, he could feel second thoughts stirring in the back of his head. 

Why was he even hesitating? He needed to save money and that meant putting his gym membership on hold, and if it really bugged him, he could do a few of the more flashy missions with the good pay instead of the cases that were cold or focused on saving ‘undesirables’. 

Still, the half-formed thoughts wriggled and twisted. In an attempt to drown them out, he downed the rest of the tea in one long draft and, ignoring the ghostly itch they left behind, strode into the training room. Muscle mass didn’t stick around just because of existential crises;. it had to be worked at and so, grabbing a barbell, he started a set. 

For all that nearly a decade had passed, he had expected the room to look the same. It was in many ways. Over half the area was still covered in fireproof mats and with a few training dummies atop them, designed for sparring and Quirk use. The machines and weights were pretty much identical, if updated in a few cases.

The major differences were all reserved to Shouto’s area. Touya knew the training room had been renovated a few years back but this was the first time he had seen the results. The area was considerably larger, the ceiling higher. As for the equipment, the tiny weights or machines had been removed, and the child-sized gymnastics equipment had been replaced with adult ones. No, not simply replaced but added to. There was a trampoline now, adjustable height bars and a bunch boxes at different heights to practice standing jumps on. There was even a bouldering wall with deep mats below it.

Touya almost approved. Maybe someone had finally managed to pound into the Old Man’s head that there were some problems better solved with technique instead of sheer power.

After he finished working his arms, he found himself seriously considering the wall. Due to the burns, he had lost most of the calluses on his hands and climbing was a good practical way of building them up. Of course then, ‘someone’ had to come and ruin it.

“Luminous,” said a deep voice

Normally he disliked the name. Ever since the bird brain had saddled with it then flown off cackling, there was only one person that Touya liked calling him that. Well, at least as much as he ‘liked’ the bastard calling him anything.

“Endeavor,” he replied. “Been meaning to talk to you. I’m on a big case right now. Might piss off some nasty people.”

Other than a slight scowl at the word ‘piss’ - one that Touya enjoyed seeing - the Flame Hero considered the words and said, “I’ll see to it.”

Nothing more was needed to be said on that subject. They understood each other perfectly. If Touya enraged the wrong people, someone might go after his mother, Natsuo or Fuyumi, and as much as he hated to admit it he didn’t have the time or resources to guard them 24/7; Endeavor did. It was that simple.

That settled, Touya looked the Old Man over and raised a brow. He was in civvies for a change, casual ones too, a blue-green shirt that matched the eye colour they shared and a pair of jeans - which given this was Endeavor, had a iron-made creases running down both pant legs and was almost certainly a ridiculously expensive brand.

“Aren’t you supposed to be out dispensing Truth, Justice and Other Bullshit during business hours?” Touya asked.

“I wanted to be here when you got home,” Endeavor answered. 

Touya gave him a sharp-toothed smile. “So playing hooky?”

“Working from home.”

“Is that what they’re calling it now?” The words were playful like waves lightly dancing over jagged rocks.

Endeavor didn’t dignify that with an answer. Instead, Touya could feel the prickle of Endeavor’s eyes against his skin as the older man scanned him. 

He suddenly became very aware that there was a tiny piece of ramen on his bottom lip. Instead of simply brushing it off, Touya made a big show of taking it off, plopping it in his mouth then licking his fingers. The Old Man’s gaze slowed for a second but otherwise continued without comment. 

Other than that, the only things that slowed down his assessment were Touya’s hands and the fresh scars there, and Touya had to resist the urge to put them behind him. It was like he was four again and wanting to hide them because they were covered in cookie crumbs.

He met the other man’s eyes. Yeah, I fucked up my fucked up body. Again. What are you going to do about it?

Apparently, rub his nose in something else he had fucked up, he realised as Endeavor passed him a gym bag. Inside was his costume and it...had seen better days. He was tempted to leave it there, but checking his gear had been drilled into him as far back as he could remember. And not just by the bastard before him.

Each boot had a different problem. One still had that orange goop from the sewer glued to it. The gunk had hardened and he was reluctantly impressed given it was still there after being bombarded with boiling water. The other one he must have hit with a stray blast because the tip of the toe was partly melted. Good thing his feet had the same flame resistance as his fingers or he might have had to get a skin graft there as well.

The boots looked like crap but were serviceable. The pants and the half-cowl seemed okay as well.

The rest was another story. The melted water bottles were stuck to the inside of the coat pockets. It’s arms were hopelessly burnt and melted and those of the top that went under it were in only slightly better condition. In both cases, the paramedics had had to cut them off him.

Shit, costumes were expensive. Especially his which were made with state of the art heat resistant material that provided some protection against bullets and knives. This would be what? The third time this year. Looked like he was going to have to be frugal for quite a while. Lovely that meant more opportunities to run into the Old Man.

“You’re still collecting your hair?” Endeavor asked.

Unlike his skin which was hit or miss, his hair was utterly immune to his fire - the reason he had a half-cowl instead of a full one. Get enough of it and the support types might be able to make a costume that wouldn’t fry or melt every other month. 

“Nope,” he said, popping the ‘p’. “It would mess with my lifelong plan to look like a piece of beef jerky.”

“This is not a joking matter,” Endeavor rumbled.

Touya leaned back against the rock wall. “Who says I’m joking?”

Endeavor grunted then drew one more thing from the bag. “This was sent to me. Apparently, they couldn’t find the address of your…‘agency’ and sent it to mine instead.” It wasn’t the first time either and was a major reason that Touya didn’t regularly greet him with a fist to the face.

He ground his teeth when he took the envelope. It was from a law firm and, while addressed to him, had already been open. The firm represented the owner of the Carkoon Condominium Complex. And, wonderful, they were suing him for setting their building on fire. Great more money problems.

“I already spoke to our lawyers,” Endeavor said.

The phrasing made any thoughts of money problems evaporate. “Our lawyers,” Touya said flatly.

Endeavor ploughed on as if he hadn’t heard the words. “They think that you have a good case. Not only was the fire a case of defense of yourself and others, and the ranking of the villain allows for more extreme measures…” The not hearing was bullshit of course. The anal retentive bastard probably had Touya’s every blink filed away somewhere, with each one graded on how effective it was at removing dust. “...The Crimson Riot v. Minoru Corp case of ‘07 provides excellent precedence.”

Endeavor went on to name a number of other precedences, laws and acts that were relevant to such cases.

“Our lawyers,” Touya repeated. This time, Endeavor would have had to be completely deaf to not notice.

“They’re coming after our family. It is natural we use the family’s lawyers,” Endeavor stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world

“Funny,” Touya drawled, “and here I thought they were only coming after me.”

The other man crossed arms and drew himself up. Which, in Touya’s opinion, made him resemble more of a gorilla than a man. “That makes it an attack against the Todoroki family.”

Touya snorted.

“Be reasonable. You have little to no money and since you refuse to tap into the family funds, you won’t be able to hire a proper legal team,” Endeavor said. “Losing such a case would bankrupt you, draw in bad publicity. Ruining your career. Your reputation. Potentially destroying your ability to act as a hero altogether. 

“‘An attack against the Todoroki family’,” Touya echoed in a sing-song fashion. “What you mean is that an attack against me reflects badly on you. Your career. Your reputation. Your extremely important status in the eyes of the public.” He grabbed a handhold on the rockwall and under his grip, the plastic melted. The sound of its thick droplets hitting the floor contrasted strongly with the silence that followed.

When the silence became so thick it was nearly solid, Endeavor began, “Touya…”

“ What? ” Touya snapped, boiling at the address. Touya was Rei’s son. Touya was Natsuo and Fuyumi’s brother. The name was not for the likes of him.

“Luminous then,” Endeavor said. “Sunday - will you be there?”

Touya resisted the urge to growl. Unless something seriously urgent came up, the answer was obvious. “Yes,” he bit out.

“Should I be?”

Touya grunted. “Do as you like. Don’t make me responsible for it.”

“And the lawsuit?”

“I won’t use your money. I won’t use your lawyers,” Touya hissed. The waves had retreated, leaving only the jagged rocks behind. “Whatever I do, it won’t involve you. ”

After that, there had been little point in staying. And though he was going to be early, he had set out. 

As an alumnus of Yuuei, Touya had access to the grounds for training purposes. So after waving his old I.D. card around at the school’s office, he drove his van up the path and into the outdoor training area, towards Ground Omega.

There were a couple rules for people like him: mainly not to get in the way of the students and not be too destructive. Touya had never figured out whether these were official or not though they were enforced and well at that.

Back in Touya’s early school days, there had been a Villains vs. Heroes exercise that ended due to a giant pink dragon flying in with the goal of saying hello to her cousin who was one of the participants. This had led to him witnessing his teacher telling said pink dragon off with such ferocity that she had flown off with her tail between her legs. 

When it came to damage, Cementoss didn’t like his creations destroyed unless they were supposed to be destroyed and only then by those who were supposed to destroy them. When it came to that…well, it was probably for the best that Touya planned to talk to Aizawa then leave before the other hero found out. 

In particular, given where he was. Ground Omega was a beautiful verdant forest, and he and it had never mixed well.

After parking, he checked his phone, revealing he was still nearly an hour early. Aizawa wouldn’t be around for a while… Or would he?

He took out his costume boots, swapped his sneakers for them and headed over to Ground Beta, the miniature city training area. There he wandered around assessing the various buildings as he went along. He wanted one with a decent view but not facing the sun, and a place with a fair bit of shade would be a good candidate.

Once he found one he thought likely, he made a big show of glaring down at the orange yunk stuck to one boot and wrinkling his nose in disgust - not much of a show there given it stank to the high heavens. Then he went through his standard arm and hand stretching exercises that he used before missions. Once done, he raised one finger to the orange gunk and - 

“Stop that.” Up on a dark ledge, the glow of blood-red eyes pierced the gloom. “ Now. ”

Whatever gravitas this lent the speaker was immediately ruined when Eraserhead hopped out of the shadows in a sleeping bag. This in it of itself was not an uncommon sight - sleeping bags probably counted as support items where Aizawa was concerned - but this…

“Please tell me you use that one around the students,” Touya said as he eyed the Hello Kitty sleeping bag. It even had a bow and ears that were currently on top of Aizawa’s head.

Aizawa made a noncommittal grunt.

Touya gave him a lazy grin in return. Making another gesture towards his boot, Touya felt the Aizawa’s red glare rob him of his Quirk once more. “I said stop that.”

Figures this of all things would make Aizawa appear.

Touya’s former mentor regularly showed up with a sleeping bag, regularly taking naps in all sorts of odd situations such as stakeouts and prior to battles. For anyone else, this would have been a liability; not Aizawa though, he seemed to have a supernatural ability to know when people were doing what was off limits.

“Has Recovery Girl been sharing?” So much for doctor-patient confidentiality.

“No. Iida Tenya is in my class. He spammed the classroom chat last night, announcing that his brother and his consort nobly received injuries rescuing Bakugou.”

‘Consort’ really? He had thought that a joke. And how did one ‘nobly’ receive injuries? Dress in a fancy samurai getup first then get injured? “And why do I think I injured my hands?”

Aizawa gave him a flat look that said, I’ve known you more than two seconds, and then stripped off the sleeping bag and tossed him a pair of climbing gloves. “Put those on and I’ll want those back without any charred sections.”

“What makes you think I’d do that?”

Aizawa didn’t dignify this with an answer. Instead he jumped off the ledge, hitting the ground in a roll which smoothly transitioned into a loping run and Touya took after him.

Touya was pretty good at free running. It was one of the reasons he wasn’t actually a walking piece of beef jerky, allowing him to use less power to achieve his goals. But compared to Aizawa, he was an amateur at best. So after ten minutes of jumping, rolling and climbing over the little city’s obstacles without Touya being left behind, it was clear that the other man was taking it easy on him.

With his fire being out of the equation, he couldn’t rely on a blast here or there to help him to jump further, run faster or cushion a bad fall.

“I see your boots have seen better days,” Aizawa commented as they came to a stop, lightly perched on top of a twenty foot wall. “The rest of the costume?”

“Pants and cowl are salvageable. Rest not so much. Still got my undercover one.”

“Still collecting your hair?”

“Uh huh, Commission’s support department says they’ll have enough to make a piece of clothing soon.”

A lie actually, he’d had enough for a few months, but had put off picking what to have made. While any items would only be able to do so much against overheating, the idea of being able to burn without burning seemed like cheating.

“If you let your hair grow it’s natural colour and didn’t damage it with bleach, you’d probably have enough for a full costume by now,” Aizawa pointed out.

“Huh, I never thought of that.”

“Picking aesthetics over your health?”

“It’s not about aesthetics.” It was about the message that it sent.

Aizawa made a grunt but said nothing more on the subject. It was one of the reasons that Touya was willing to listen to him over most. Aizawa would actually let things go. “Thanks for saving my student,” he said.

“That’s not necessary.” Touya wasn’t Endeavor, constantly trying to prove how tough he was, or All Might the so-called Symbol of Peace, doing tricks for reporters to praise. He was doing what he was supposed to - what he had to - and to expect rewards for that... The thought sent a visceral sense of disgust through him. It was like expecting a gold star for not running over a puppy.

“Yes, it is. Five hero students were already missing. Are still missing. If I had been more on my guard, Bakugou might not have been taken.”

Aizawa gave him a cool look that said that he was not to argue on the subject; thus, Touya changed the subject. “The owners of the condo are trying to sue me for setting it on fire.”

Aizawa raised a brow but allowed the shift in conversations. “How are you going to handle it?”

Touya shrugged. “Talk to the Hero Commission. See if they’ll pay for a lawyer.” Which unfortunately meant that he’d have to speak to Hawks, but given the alternative, he’d take it. “There’s definitely some legal stuff on my side like Crimson Riot v. Minoru Corp of ‘07.” So, maybe he had paid attention to what the Old Man had said. “Besides, the owners dropped the ball on their end. They should have had their own security for the building and the fact that the sprinklers didn’t go off…”

He paused there. Why hadn’t the sprinklers gone off? The bathrooms had been working and the pipe had had a huge amount of water in it, so presumably other parts had had flowing water. So why not the sprinklers?

A lot of heroes worked as impromptu firefighters and so most learned the basics of how fire suppression systems worked. Touya himself had spent a few weeks studying under the water-Quirked rescue hero Backdraft. Endeavor had figured that it was an excellent way to learn how to decrease and control fire damage or, if one wanted, learn how to increase it. And as much as Touya hated to admit it, it had come in handy a time or two.

Sprinklers didn’t even require electricity to work. If they got hot enough, a little piece inside them melted and water pressure did the rest.

Touya could picture them not being triggered by the first part of the fight. He had been using accuracy over power. Later on though, the flame walls would have done it and by the end, it was literally impossible he hadn’t set dozens of them off. So that meant someone had turned off their isolation valves then drained the water between the isolation valves and the sprinkler heads.

He shot off a message to Tsukauchi.

“A lead?” asked Aizawa.

“Why’d you say that?”

“You’re smiling.”

Yeah, Touya could feel his teeth exposed to the open air. So what? It wasn’t like he was incapable of it.

Something of this must have shown on his expression, because Aizawa continued, “You only smile for certain reasons.”

“Like what?” He was genuinely curious.

“Flirting.” 

Unfortunately, there was no arguing with that one. Sixteen year old Touya had made a horrible effort to seduce the man, complete with dumb smiles. For his part, Aizawa had knocked the very idea of them ever having that kind of relationship out of him so hard that Touya had felt dizzy afterwards.

“When you’re laughing at or messing with someone.”

There had been Bakugou a few days back.

“Fighting.”

Yes. If the person deserved to be messed up, why not let himself enjoy it?

“Finding clues and forging plans”

Which both typically led to finding some bastard who deserved to be messed up. So yeah.

“Flirting, fucking with people, fighting, finding and forging,” Touya repeated. “Got admit: it sounds about rig--”

“I wasn’t finished,” Aizawa interrupted. “There’s one more: your family.”

That Touya took issue with. The Old Man was...himself. Sure Mom, Natsuo and Fuyumi could get him to smile, but half the time it was to make them feel better, and nevermind the number of times they gave him stress headaches. And Shouto… Getting into that was more trouble than it was worth.

“So...?” Aizawa prompted.

“Close enough,” he admitted. “I was thinking that the condo was supposed to burn down to destroy evidence. Not necessarily by me but by someone. I figure someone in the Jabba Gang purposely screwed with the sprinklers. I’m betting it’s one of the ones who got away.”

“Let me know if the police find anything. Do you have a copy of the files?”

“In my van.”

After he had gotten Aizawa’s text, he had had to go back to the police station to have one of the desk sergeants photocopy them for him. It had been embarrassing as all hell to ask, but Natsuo with Fuyumi’s backing had banned him from using the one at home after the last incident.

Once they were back at Ground Omega and Aizawa was flipping through them, a notion occurred to him. “Couldn’t you have emailed Tsukauchi to send this?” The detective would’ve done it. Eraserhead as an underground hero wasn’t well-known but by those who did, he was well-respected.

Before Aizawa answered, there was a squawk from the other side of the van, followed by someone loudly declaring, “Perhaps we should use a different route back to the school? One without such vile artwork to distract us?” That voice sounded awfully familiar.

A chipper female voice joined it. “What vile artwork? Ohhhh, that vile artwork?”

“Er, yes. Perhaps you might assist me in covering it so the other girls won’t be exposed.”

“Exposed to what? Ooooh, that’s what you mean,” added a third more restrained female.

The first person stammered. “M-m-my apologies for having to see that, Yaoyorozu . Perhaps you can help me redirect our classmates?”

“I guess...but everyone here has taken sex-ed. I really don’t see this being a big deal.”

A fourth voice, once again female, joined in. “What big deal?. It’s not a particularly good one. The proportions are all off. Ribbit.”

Touya made his way to the other side of the van, serenaded by the increasingly frantic squawks of the first speaker, only to find a growing number of students examining the dick graffiti on its side.

He wasn’t surprised to find the moral guardian of the speakers was Iida Tenya. His arms spread wide, he was attempting to block the graffiti from the poor ‘innocent’ eyes of his classmates. 

Not surprised but maybe...disappointed? He should have known better, Mini Iida had mentioned he was a classmate of the rescued blond, a blond who attended Yuuei. Though he had hoped otherwise.

One way or another, it appeared the Iida parents had inducted both their children into the cult of heroism. He supposed it made sense; the Iida hero legacy was a multigenerational brand, having an heir and a spare was just good sense. Endeavor had certainly thought so. Even when almost all of his focus had been on Shouto, he had still periodically put Touya through the paces.

“Todoroki-san,” Mini Iida said when he spotted him.

Mini Iida… Okay maybe he should stop thinking about him as that. Neither brother deserved to be saddled with their fucked up folks’ name as their main descriptor. So Touya upgraded them from Iida and Mini Iida to Tensei and Mini Tensei. 

“Hey kid,” Touya said, waving a lazy hand at him, “how’s it going? And call me Touya.”

Mini Tensei attempted to wave back, then realising that this would mean no longer blocking the graffiti. He ended up waving his arms up and down while keeping them spread. This had the predictable effect of making him look like a little kid flapping his arms in an attempt to fly.

After about a minute of this, a thought passed behind those framed eyes and the waving came to a stop. “Is this your vehicle?” he asked.

“Yep.”

“I am afraid someone defaced it,” Mini Tensei said. He glanced at the growing crowd of his classmates and, with a sigh, lowered his arms. It was clear his attempts at protecting them was being less than effective. If anything this spurred them on, taking pictures of the graffiti, discussing it’s realism, and altogether treating it as if the crude phallic imagery was fine art. “I hope that didn’t happen here.”

“Nah.” And, just because he wanted to see the kid’s reaction, added, “It’s like that on purpose. For blending in in less than good neighbourhoods.”

“It is?” Mini Tensei said hesitantly. 

“Yeah.”

To be fair to Mini Tensei, he wasn’t entirely dense and looked skeptical. As the tail end of his classmates followed by Present Mic and a very familiar blond boy showed up, he sighed and, giving up his last attempts at being his class’ protector, stepped away from the vehicle. Instead, he exchanged a few words with a tall girl who’s long dark hair was swept up into an elegant ponytail. The girl nodded who in turn spoke to Present Mic.

“Yamada-sensei,” she said, “this is Todoroki ‘Luminous’ Touya. He’s one of the heroes who rescued Bakugou.”

Present Mic smiled at Touya. “We’ve met,” Present Mic said cheerfully. “Long time, no see, kid.”

Touya had never been able to make Aizawa and Present Mic fit together in his head as anything more than allies, nevermind as the friends and romantic partners they really were. Aizawa avoided the spotlight wherever he could whereas Present Mic looked like a cockatoo and had the same ‘please, pay attention to me’ attitude which made All Might so obnoxious. It was one of the reasons that Touya had never warmed to him.

“Hey little listeners! We’ve got a special guest on our show today. One of our Bakugou’s saviors, fabulous flame hero, the illuminating Luminous.” Present Mic boomed.

That was another reason.

Suddenly all the attention that had been aimed at his van was on him.

Back in the days when he had been a dutiful sockpuppet, Touya had learned to deal with attention. Even after, he’d occasionally deal with the shit. So he could deal with the stares and the whispers the kids were sending his way. It didn’t mean he liked it when they started smiling at him and, in the case of a redhead boy at the back, cheering.

That sort of stuff made him feel like he had ants crawling under his skin; thus, it was a relief when Bakugou Katsuki's harsh tone cut through the sappiness.

“So you’re the flame guy,” he said. The kid looked better than a couple days ago. Clean uniform opposed to the blood speckled t-shirt and jeans that the crooks roughed him up in. And obviously not tied to a chair. Not that that said much. Unless it was the fun kind, being tied up didn’t tend to agree with anyone.

“Yeah, that was me,” Touya answered.

 The kid thrust out his jaw. “You catch the bastards who did that shit?”

“Not all of them.”

“Then you fucked up the job,” Bakugou spat. 

“Job’s not over. I’ll find them.”

Bakugou stepped into Touya’s personal space as if to say ‘You better’. He was a bit shorter than Touya, but still tried to loom over him. Touya responded by letting him, leaning back against his van, arms crossed lazily as if he was a juvenile delinquent and Bakugou the stuck up authority figure. The last blond who had intimidated him had tried to bring a building down on his head. This one? Wasn’t worth a yawn.

The redhead boy snaked an arm around Bakugou’s shoulders, pulling out of his so-called loom. “Come on, Kacchan. This guy helped you out. It’s not manly to act like a dick.”

Bakugou turned his glower towards him. “What’s the fuck with the name, Shitty Hair?”

“Figured I’d channel Midoriya-kun. You always listen to him.”

“And he’s the only one allowed to call me that. You sure as hell aren’t him.”

Putting his hands out in front of him in capitulation, the redhead said, “Sorry Bakubro, I didn’t realise it was a personal thing. I’ll cut it out.”

“Apology. Fucking. Accepted,” Bakugou said, grunting each word as if they required great effort to say.

At this an entirely pink girl chimed in, “Wait a minute? Bakugou actually listens to someone? Who?” 

The silence that had overtaken the group when Bakugou had started talking shattered as the students speculated who this Midoriya was and what Quirk he possessed such that he could get Bakugou of all people to listen to reason. One thought he might be an older student. Another suggested a pro hero. A little purple-headed boyspeculated that Midoriya was a girl and had gone on in graphic details as to her proportions until one of his classmates slapped a hand over his mouth. 

Present Mic was apparently a crappy sub as he had silently watched the exchange between Bakugou and Touya, gaze flickering between them. Now, he seemed more amused by the students current antics than annoyed. 

“I guess you’re here for Aizawa. Sorry, he’s really sick,” he said to Touya, lips twisting in worry at the last. “But if he were here he’d want to thank you.”

Aizawa wasn’t here, eh? Touya didn’t even bother looking over his shoulder for the man. If Eraserhead wasn’t around at the moment, it was because he didn’t want to be. The man had scampered. But why? 

If he didn’t want to get caught by his sub and his students, then why purposely bring Touya to them? Why have Touya show up at all when he could get all the info himself?

“He’d thank you if he was here. And while he might not say it directly, he’s proud of you,” Present Mic said. “Things have gone in a bit of a circle. When you were a kid, he was the one bailing you out of trouble and now you’re doing the same for others.”

It was this last statement that gave Touya the final puzzle piece, and his attention slid back to Bakugou. The kid was utterly ignoring the cacophony of his classmates’ theories; rather, he had turned in on himself. 

The look in his eyes was familiar to Touya. It was the same firestorm that Bakugou had when Touya had freed him, and, instead of running to safety he had jumped into the thick of things. It didn’t burn as hot now, but only a fool would underestimate it. This was the fire that lurked among coals, banked yes, but waiting for the right time to rage once more.

Shit.

Aizawa went to a different perch to resume his nap. The new location had a disappointingly dull sleeping bag, but he wouldn’t be surprised if a disgruntled Touya showed up at the last location. And speaking of disgruntled...

“Shouta, I know you’re around here. Come out,” Present Mic boomed. 

Apparently, Touya had spilled the beans. 

“I got up early for you. I even made you soup, you bastard!” 

No doubt this would prove annoying in the coming weeks. Hizashi had been about to start his English students on classic literature, his favourite part of the school year. It was likely he’d be frozen out of their bedroom for the next week or so. As for the students themselves, they’d likely try to use this as an excuse to slack.

It would be an inconvenience, yes, but a worthwhile one. 

Bakugou’s report had revealed that he had been incarcerated with the Korean children. Both Mrs. Water Hose and Touya’s report had indicated that he jumped into the fight and been willing to face down Muscular until it had been pointed that the children might be in danger. Aizawa had been keeping an eye on Bakugou the last couple days, and filtering what he had seen through his experiences of keeping a teenage Touya from getting himself killed, helped him spot a number of warning signs in the young man.

That led to another problem. Bakugou and Power Loader’s resident problem child had been recommended students. Not just because they had legitimate skills, but because they were strongly suspected of vigilante activities. Their recommendation letter from a fellow underground hero was phrased along the lines ‘Please take them before they drive me bonkers!’

Together the boys were good enough to find trouble, and nowhere near experienced enough to deal with it. 

The simple fact was that Aizawa could only watch so many people at a time. Minor inconveniences such as a grumpy Hizashi were worth it if it kept his students safe.

He snuggled into his sleeping bag to resume his nap. It was still on the cold side, but soon it would heat up. Especially given the smug warmth that his last text conversation had planted in his chest.

Aizawa had long since learned that discipline and rules could only go so far with stubborn types and then all you could do was guide them in the right direction. 

So when Bakugou and that Midoriya kid inevitably went snooping, Touya would almost certainly run into them. He would grump and grumble about how he didn’t give a damn about a pair of kids who were too dumb to know when they were in over their heads. That the chance of Touya getting involved with them was about as likely as finding a needle in a haystack. 

This from Todoroki Touya who treated the word ‘hero’ as nothing more than a job description. 

This from Todoroki Touya who thought the older, deeper definition of the word could never be applied to himself.

This from Todoroki Touya who had been obsessively saving children since he was a child and whose modus operandi hadn’t changed since.

In Touya’s case, the haystack was made of needles.

Chapter Text

The Blood We Share

Chapter 8

"I don't want to be like him. I want to be like you."

The day had been a royally shitty up day. First, Eyebags, Ponytail and the Pervert had beat him on the math test. Then Disney Princess of all people had beat him twice during the hero training. It had been tracking and evasion and apparently Princess’s little friends were actually good for something. When it had been his turn for evasion, Princess had used them to make noise and false paths to send him in the wrong direction. When he’d done tracking, the furry fuckers (“ Scaled, Bakugou-kun," Koda had said. "They don’t like being compared to mammals.” ) had found him within five minutes.

After spending the day being a fucking waste of space, Katsuki figured it was time to do something useful.

Dust tickled his throat and he barely stopped a coughing fit, gagging it down. He was camped out in a department store a few blocks from their old elementary school. The place had fallen on hard times and closed. As rumour had it, a local gang was looking for a storehouse for their product and this place seemed a likely choice.

Besides him, Izuku quickly rummaged through his pack and pulled out a water bottle and pressed it into his hand. Giving his best friend a nod, Katsuki downed it, letting it wash away the tickle. If only it could wash away his frustration, as this attempt to be useful was turning out to be a waste of time. 

“Sorry,” Izuku whispered, “I’ll bring masks next time.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes. “Could have thought of it myself. Didn’t.” If he let him, the nerd would blame himself for practically anything.

Izuku shrugged a shoulder then cocked his head, covering his single earbud with a hand. They had hidden cheap bugs around the place to pick up anyone else in the building. Had the gang finally…?

Izuku shook his head. “Just another truck going by.” 

Just be safe, Katsuki grabbed his binoculars and scanned the place. Their hideaway was in one corner where the escalator, floor and wall met. It was fairly dark, thus making it hard for anyone to see them, and near a crawl space, a door and some boarded up windows so there were exits aplenty in case the crooks came calling. Their old school, Padowa Elementary, had been having trouble with someone peddling drugs to the students and these guys were their top suspects. If they were willing to do that to a bunch of snot-nosed brats, who knows what they would do to a pair of teenagers?

Not that he and the Nerd couldn’t handle any of the shit-heads, but better not to get caught in the first place.

As he looked over the empty store, taking in the empty display cases, nude mannequins and mirrors so covered in grime that they barely reflected a sliver of light, he mulled over the idea. If it happened… If the assholes did jump them… If they had to fight, would it be so bad?

It was only vigilantism if he used his Quirk, and given that he and Izuku had been doing martial arts for years, it probably wouldn’t even come to that. It might even feel good.

Bakugou Katsuki didn’t particularly like brats, even when he’d been one. They were too stupid, too small and too helpless. But messing with them? There was some shit that people just shouldn’t do. Luring a kid in with ‘present’, hooking them and twisting theming until they were nothing more than a fish on a line, helpless, waiting to be devoured...

Katsuki had seen it up close and personal when the traffickers had tossed him in with the kids. 

Tiny little things, some barely out of diapers.

In the dark, they had clung to him—the first vaguely adult presence who hadn’t hurt them—taking turns to tuck their heads under his chin, laying against legs, clinging to his arms. He had wanted to snap at them. Tell them to get the fuck away from him. But then they had called him by that and he had frozen. 

He had watched Korean cartoons way back. Back when he had been their age. Tiny. Innocent. Helpless. And he knew that word.

Yeong-ung. Hero.

They had wanted him to save them. Him, the guy who wanted to be a hero as far back as he could remember. Him, the guy who was training at the best damn school in the world to be just that. Him, the guy who had been kidnapped, cuffed and tossed around by assholes and had been able to do nothing.

Utterly useless.

“Katsuki," came Izuku’s voice and he found himself being shaken by the arm. “Are you okay?” Izuku asked.

Katsuki blinked then scowled. “I’m fine,” he barked. The nerd’s grip loosened but he didn’t let go, instead, he waited, green gaze watching him steadily.

After a minute of grinding his teeth, Katsuki admitted, “I’m a fucking shit show.” Years of him and Izuku watching crooks and passing the info off to the cops, he had thought that he was tough stuff. Then, the first time that he’d actually needed to be a hero, he’d been helpless.

The nerd didn’t bother to ask exactly what was wrong. He knew. He always did. Instead, he pulled his little laptop from his bag and brought up a map. A thick blue line going from their current location to another about twenty blocks away. “I finally managed to get Luminous’ agency address. I thought maybe we could help with the case.”

“What case? They caught the assholes.”

“Not all of them," Izuku pointed out, "and there are still others missing. Some of them hero students.”

The first part was screwed up but not surprising. Figured they would have traded in other kids. The second… “Those were the hero student kidnappers?” The missing students were the main reason that Eyebags had gotten into 1-A. 

“Don’t know for sure, but his emails imply it.” Izuku brought a series of copied email files.

“You got into his computer?” The nerd was getting good at this stuff. “Any other good stuff in there?” 

Izuku shrugged. “Not really. Most of what he had was detective stuff. Not like clues or anything. Just shows, books. That sort of thing. Honestly, his internet security was really bad.” He tilted his head to the side and considered aloud, “Extremely bad. Maybe it’s a distraction for hackers. They think they’ve got into his files, but he has the real ones in a separate one… It would make sense. I mean I have a lot to learn and I can't even—”

Katsuki cut him off. The nerd had only started hacking two weeks ago and given that, the fact that he could do it at all wasn’t anything to shit on. “Don’t pretend to be a deku, Deku,” he said rolling his eyes. Let Izuku go on long enough and he cut his most awesome achievements into toothpicks.

At the old nickname, Izuku blushed but fired back with “Don’t say things like that, Kacchan. Someone might mistake you for sweet.”

The exchange of the stupid nicknames was an old arrangement of theirs from back when they were brats. If Katsuki called Izuku ‘Deku’, Izuku could call him ‘Kacchan’ and vice versa. It had come about after Endeavor’s youngest had been murdered and all the parents in Musutafu, maybe all of Japan, had gone nuts with overprotectiveness. This included their parents who, as they were already friends, had decided to team up to watch over them. At the time their friendship had been ‘strained’. But, bored and with no one else to play with, they had come up with the arrangement to make things more bearable. 

“The fuck I’m sweet.” Katsuki gave Izuku a light punch in the shoulder. “So, we going to go see this guy or not?”

They packed up their stuff and then headed out. Wiggling through the crawl space until they found the vent that led outside. Once back on the city’s pavement, they checked over the route to Luminous’ agency, then set off in a brisk jog. 

The rhythm of the jog and the feeling that he was doing something caused Katsuki to relax. Yeah, it had been a shitty day and a shitty week. Hell, probably a shitty month as well—he was still pissed at U.A. for their Quirkist bullshit, putting Izuku in the Support Department instead of the Hero one where he belonged.

Nonetheless, when you were stuck in shit, you could either wallow like a pig or get the hell out. He started by picking his best friend’s brain and told him the gong show that had been the tracking and evasion exercise with Disney Princess, 

“That’s a tough one,” Izuku said between breaths. “Given the number of different animals Koda can talk to, he’s got access to senses that are way better than ours.” 

“Come on, don’t tell me you can’t think of something,” Katsuki needled. The nerd loved a good brain teaser. “That monstrous brain ought to be good for something.”

“Tricky, Kacchan,” Izuku commented, though even as they had jogged along, Izuku’s face gained that familiar faraway expression and he started mumbling.

Meanwhile, Katsuki did his normal job of watching out for him. This problem must have been harder than normal because Katsuki had to elbow him multiple in the ribs to stop him from running into stuff—in this case two signs and four people—and grab him by the back of his shirt to stop him from face-planting when he didn’t notice a curb. No doubt one of these days, the nerd would forget to breathe between all the muttering and Katsuki would have to perform CPR.

Eventually, Izuku came out of it. “Very tricky… I don’t think you can avoid the animals noticing you or stop Koda from getting their messages, not unless we know the way he sends and receives them,” Izuku mused, then bared his teeth in a fierce grin.

They approached the stairway up to Stukura Square, taking the steps two at a time. “So?” Katsuki prompted.

“So, you don’t. You slow him down instead. Give him too many messages to follow up on them all.” Izuku didn’t miss a beat and sprinted up in time with him. “You remember that idea we had for grenades loaded with your sweat?” They’d been playing with the idea last school break. “I’ve been working on them with Maijima-sensei and if I added timers to them…”

Katsuki could see where this was going. Throw them in various directions with the timers set differently. Disney Princess’s buddies would be confused and there would be too many messages for him to follow up on them all. 

“...and if you avoided using Explosion, you’d be harder to find...and maybe use something nasty to cover your scent? They would still be able to smell you, but hopefully, the animals won’t want to come too close.”

Katsuki cackled. He knew just the thing. “Finally, the Hag’s perfume will finally be put to good use.”

Izuku licked his lips nervously. “Auntie’s perfume is really not that bad.”

Hah. That was a crap lie if Katsuki had ever heard one. When they’d been little and first exposed to Bakugou Mitsuki’s aerosol torture, they’d barricaded themselves in Katsuki’s room with the windows open and a blanket shoved into the door’s crack. When that hadn’t worked, Izuku had procured a bottle of bleach from below the bathroom sink while loudly proclaiming that he was helping Katsuki clean his room. It had covered up the scent and while the bleach had stunk like hell, it hadn’t been anywhere near as bad as the perfume. 

The second time, Katsuki’s father had knocked on the door and forlornly asked if he could join.

The third time, Auntie Inko had been over for dinner. She had been recovering from a bad cold, thus immune to the stench, and ended up dragging them out while sternly informing them that avoiding the Hag was bad manners. 

These days, at the first sniff of the stuff, they ran for the hills.

“Well, I guess it’s certainly...strong enough,” Izuku said. “But Auntie will kill us.”

Will kill them? That meant the nerd was seriously considering it. Heh. He might sometimes shake like a leaf in the wind, but his best friend was no coward. 

“Want to race the rest of the way?” Katsuki asked. 

“...okay.” For all the hesitation, one corner of Izuku’s mouth tugged upward. Not surprising. Quirkless or not, competitions with Izuku could be…unpredictable. 

He might lie for shit but he was a sneaky bastard. Once, during a sparring session, he’d gotten goop all over Katsuki’s hands and it had taken seventeen explosions to get it all off. Another time during a long-distance race where Katsuki had chosen the route, Izuku had not only figured out a shortcut as he had figured before Katsuki had picked it. The nerd still wouldn’t tell him how he had done that last one.

They lowered themselves into starting positions and Katsuki began the count. “Three, two, one…” He hesitated there. “You know,” he mused. “My mom won’t kill us for taking the perfume.”

A sprig of hope grew within Izuku’s eyes. “She won’t?”

“I’ll tell her: it was all your idea.” As Izuku’s eyes widened at the words, Katsuki grinned and shouted, “ Go!” 

Izuku heard the words but his mind couldn’t decide what to do. Torn, he simultaneously tried to run and flail in horror at the idea of Mitsuki’s rage. This caused him to face-planted on the pavement. Meanwhile, Katsuki tore down the street, the wail of “Kaaatsuki!” following in his wake. 

Heh, the nerd wasn’t the only sneaky bastard.

Surprise or no surprise. Izuku was determined not to make it easy for him, and Katsuki soon heard the rapid slapping of running shoes behind him, growing in tempo. The sound made his grin grow. Always good to have a challenge.

He couldn’t go too crazy with his Quirk. Not while they were in public. Keep it small. Keep it subtle.

There was a turn coming up. Opposed to slowing down, he threw out an arm to the side and let off a series of small explosions, causing him to curve in the opposite direction, and breezing past a woman who, upon seeing their rapid race, had plastered herself to the wall. 

However, he didn’t bother to look back. No looking. No slowing. The sound of Izuku’s approach grew in power and its sound becoming like the rapid pitter patter of a mouse’s heart. More. Katsuki needed more.

The pavement was rough here. The top of it badly cracked and even the stuff that wasn’t had large pebbles built into the surface. He handled it. Each time he pumped an arm back, he let a burst that turned his next step into a large skip. It looked as dorky as all hell, made worse when he leapt over a planter, causing a couple flowers to stick to his shoes. In all, it made him resemble a ballerina prancing across the stage than a Hero. 

It allowed him to cross the surface in ten paces as opposed to the thirty it would have required, so who gave a shit? Besides, each burst was accompanied by the rush of the crisp fall air over his face and that wasn’t half bad.

The last leg of the journey was through a narrow alleyway ahead. Barely room for one. Whoever made it there first would win. Katsuki could hear harsh panting in his ear. Shit. The nerd had managed to catch up. 

As the panting increased, Katsuki drove an elbow back, narrowingly missing one of Izuku’s gut. The next one, Izuku caught, twisting his arm. He tried to turn the twist into a throw, however, Katsuki managed to get his free hand around and grab Izuku’s shirt. Entangled the way they were, their path zigged and zagged dangerously, both on the edge of falling over and neither willing to let go or slow down. 

Katsuki loosened his grip slightly as they rapidly approached the hard brick of the alley’s mouth. Not enough room for both of them. Izuku would have to peel off, have to let go, then Katsuki would let, take the lead and win the race. 

Any second.

He just had to hold his nerve. Soon, the other boy would let go. 

Any second. 

Katsuki poured on more speed. Make it clear to the nerd that he wasn’t going to give up. 

Izuku would be letting go any second. 

Any millisecond? As the wall loomed over them, a thought wormed its way through Katsuki’s the exhaustion fogging his brain: 

Izuku was just as crazy as he was.

Ah, fuc—

The day had been going well. Not great, but pretty good with the distinct possibility of getting better. 

He’d managed to get a morning workout without the Old Man interrupting. He managed to arrange a time to see Hawks to talk legal and money problems, which while not the greatest was one of those unpleasant things that needed to be done like setting a broken bone.

In case-related issues, Toga Etsu was going to be coming in two days to talk about her missing daughter, Compress’ Le Theatre de la Lune was tonight and he had a contact who was going to give him the current address and Tensei had shown up.

“The police asked if I bring over a paper version, rather than have them emailed to you,” he said, pressing his bag against the doorframe leading into Touya’s agency and fishing through its contents.

“I like to have a hard copy,” Touya replied. “Easier to read.”

“Printer problems?” Tensei pulled out a series of envelopes, passing them over. 

That was one way to describe the melted mess that he had hidden under his couch. “Something like that” Best not to mention why.

Touya scanned the labels on the envelopes. Hmmm… Interviews, an initial Quirk assessment for each child, Tensei and the detective’s notes and…huh, Fuyumi had decided to put her own in.

“Your sister is quite something,” Tensei commented. “She caught a few mistranslations from the interpreter they brought in.”

Languages were always a big thing for the Old Man. Probably thought that if you wanted to terrify an enemy, might as well do it in their native language. Where Touya had been starting on Korean when he’d finally put his foot down, Fuyumi had kept at it, hoping to get a scrap of approval. Who knows, with Endeavor’s ‘I am not a complete shithead’-act she might even have gotten a couple pats on the head and maybe even a cookie.

“Later on, she thought Detective Tanuka was being too pushy with one of the kids. He disagreed and well…he changed his mind very fast.”

Okay, okay. If Fuyumi was one of the doggish persuasion, then she was like a Great Pyrenese, a sweet, white fluffy thing until you threatened her flock and suddenly, you became very aware of her fangs. 

A bit of time went by, and Touya became increasingly aware that Iida Tensei was still very much present in his doorway and showing no sign of moving on. “What?”

“Was hoping to come in for a bit to talk.” 

He led Tensei up the stairs and down a hall to the old office that was his agency. Opening the door, he slid back and pointed with a lanky arm. “Well, go on.” 

The only other pro heroes who had been here were Aizawa—who tended to treat Touya’s agency as a nap stop whether offered or not—and the Old Man—who made his opinion on the place very clear. So, while Touya’s gesture was casual, he watched the older man. 

Touya had been to the Iida Agency. The Iidas were an old hero family and with the first heroes appearing in the early Second Generation and as such they were quite established. The one in Mustafu was thrice the size of Endeavor’s. The inside was all slick steel and white stone with gleaming computers everywhere. All of it manned with a staff such as support workers, secretaries and sidekicks. Meanwhile, Touya’s agency was a cheap desk, a couple of chairs and a wall full of rusty filing cabinets. The closest thing he had to support staff were mice who cleaned up any scraps that he left on the table and who by the look of it had repaid him by leaving a few ‘presents’ in a corner.

To his surprise, Tensei didn’t pay much attention to expected things, instead eyeing the combination of coats and costumes hung by the door, the hats above them—raising a brow when he noted the fedora with the top of it burned off—and glanced at the window where the blinds’ string was tied around the neck of a well-worn Endeavor plush. All of this fell by the wayside when he spotted the comic books atop one of the cabinets. 

“That’s the original run of Detective Conan, isn’t it?” Tensei carefully put it aside to look at the next work. Bit by bit identifying ones like the other Japanese comics like the complete Bloody Monday collection, curiously eyeing the Chinese ones, then moving onto the English ones such as Scooby-Doo! Mystery of the Fun Park Phantom and ending on “The second run of Peter David on X-Factor?” 

There’d been a first one? Did the X-Factor team run a detective agency in that one too? That would be… 

... not relevant. “Why’d you want to talk?”

Tensei pulled his attention away from the comic books then, with a sharp chopping motion, slapped one more envelope onto the desk. It was different than the other, a sleek blue paper and popping it open revealed a magazine with the words ‘Join Team Idaten!’ emblazoned on the top in silvery letters.

“You want me to be your sidekick?” 

Tensei made a wavy motion with one hand. “Sort of, but not really. I don’t especially like the term for the experienced heroes. The Iida Agency is more of a hero cooperative for full pooling resources than anything else. Yeah, there’s a group of people who regularly work under me, but most just work on their own things with the odd team-up.”

“Why me?” Touya asked, taking a moment to play the idea over in his mind. He already knew what his answer was, but he couldn't help but wonder what mild insanity had led Tensei to think he’d fit in there.

“You got the first lead on what happened to the hero students after months of nothing?”

Touya had gotten an anonymous tip from out of the blue.

“You came up with an excellent infiltration plan to get those kids out.”

Which had completely gone to shit when Muscular had shown up.

“And when Muscular showed up, you not only got the bulk of the prisoners to safety…”

He would have happily let them rot if he hadn’t needed information.

“...but kept Mister and Missus alive.”

They wouldn’t have been anywhere near Muscular if Touya hadn’t lied about knowing that that Bakugou kid was in the building. He had suspected, yeah, and even been right, but he hadn’t known . Mister had nearly died as a result. “How is Mister doing anyways?” he asked.

“Missus says things are going as well as can be expected, but he’ll be in the hospital for the next few weeks.”

That…wasn’t what Touya expected. “Good,” he managed. Based on what he’d heard in the hospital, he had figured that he’d have been out within the week. Not that changed anything for Touya. If he’d turned his guess into fake certainty, all he’d done was made sure that the heroes properly investigated, did what they were damn well supposed to do and Mister getting hurt was fucked up but part of the job. 

“Honestly, the main reason I’d like you aboard is your case record.”

Touya snorted. “You like ugly cases and low solve rates?”

Tensei waved it off. “Cases people don’t want or have given up on.” And damn, it seemed like he meant it, all steady eyes that were both firm and warm at the same time. Who knows maybe he did?

Or maybe the offer was really from the Iida parents and Tensei was just the sincere but oblivious messenger. One of the ‘perks’ of being Endeavor’s kid was he had never had a shortage of job offers. People either wanted the attention he’d bring and/or assumed he was his father in miniature. He had refused to take part in his first sports festival and still, he’d had tons of internship offers. 

Or maybe Tensei was in on it and Touya’s twelve-year-old self was in the driver seat. That Touya who had stared up at a teenager dressed in shining armour and been convinced that his crush was the ‘most bestest’ person ever.

Whatever. It wouldn’t change his answer one way or another. “I’ll pass.”

Tensei’s earlier firmness softened and he deflated into a chair. “Phew. First seducing then you working for me could have been…awkward,” he said. “My H.R. department would have had my head.” 

“That wasn’t the plan?” Touya hadn’t forgotten the fancy temperature-Quirk condoms.

A reddish tinge came to Tensei’s ears. “No, the plan was to first go out for food or a movie or something then give you the offer. If you had said no, then I planned to seduce you. I’ll leave the office romance to the soaps, thank you very much.”

“And the hospital was…?”

“I seem to recall you coming onto me first, but...that was unprofessional." Tensei gave a solemn nod of the head. "So sorry. I should have brought up the offer before going along with it.”

Touya just shrugged. They’d hadn’t gone very far anyway. Maybe, it was the long sabbatical but Touya couldn’t see him being too upset if it had gone the other way. He had had an itch and he had wanted to scratch it. 

Matter of fact, he still did. But did he have the time? It was about 8 pm and provided that he heard from his contact and the hours for Compress’ place were the normal ones, it would open around midnight. Time enough to review the transcripts and get a quickie.

Satisfied, Touya quirked his lips. “Distracted you, did I?”

“Definitely, I was a complete mess. Barely knew up from down,” Tensei said, a strand of laughter weaving through his words. “You pretty much took advantage of me. I ought to arrest you for it.” The back of one broad hand lightly glided down the side of Touya's arm.

Then the buzzer for the damn intercom went off. 

Izuku figured that as accidents went, smashing into a brick wall then falling into a heap with his best friend wasn’t a particularly bad one. 

It was better than the time when Katsuki had tried to fly from the top of his house. (Their parents had overreacted to that one. Considering what could have gone wrong, a broken arm and leg were nothing.) It was better than the time that he followed the Eel into the midtown sewer system and got lost. (After the hero had found them then dragged them home, their parents had also overreacted.) It was certainly better than some of the close calls which they’d dealt with drug dealers. (Izuku tended to think death was preferable to finding out what their parents would do if they found out about that.)

So, in the grand scope of things, this little incident wasn’t bad at all.

Nonetheless, between the probable concussion and the sheer exhaustion from the run, it took a few minutes for them to disentangle themselves. 

Once, he managed to get himself to sit upright, a mischievous thought occurred to him and Izuku considered, giving the other boy a shove then sprinting the rest of the way to victory. But the throbbing of his head from where it hit the brick made him hesitate and the warning glare from Katsuki finished it off. 

Instead, he grabbed his friend by the shoulder and, using each other as support, they managed to climb to their feet. 

“Nice turns,” Izuku said between huffs of air. They were. Tight turns while running at speed were difficult and big explosions, while awesome, were bad for maneuverability. On the other hand, little ones at the right time were, according to Katsuki, the ‘shit’. They’d worked on it by themselves, but in the last couple of weeks, Katsuki’s skill had come leaps and bounds. “Aizawa-sensei must have helped a lot.”

“Meh,” Katsuki grunted. “He can see talent…sometimes. Rest of the time, he’s fucking blind. You should be in class with me. At the very least, be with the 1-B dweebs.” 

Izuku didn’t reply. They knew that getting him into the Heroics Department was going to be an uphill battle. And in all honesty, Support was far from the worst place to be. A number of the courses were the same as the ones for heroes. People who made support gear had to know the legal precedences and conditions that heroes worked in. The only major difference was the hands-on stuff.

“This area looks like shit,” Katsuki observed as they made the rest of the way to the agency. It wasn’t exactly the nice part of town. There were a few scantily clad women on the other side of the street with a large muscled man lurking nearby. A couple of folks were sizing him and Katsuki up, obviously deciding whether or not to try to sell them the stolen bicycle parts on the blanket in front of them. This didn’t take into account the garbage littering the streets and the meth-scabs on the faces of numerous people passing by. 

“He’s pretty much an underground hero,” Izuku said defensively. They tended to stick around the worst parts of town. That being said, some of the buildings were well-maintained. Luminous’ agency was likely in one of those.

They came to a stop in front of an old office building. Well, it certainly didn’t need a paint job as the outside was covered in layers upon layers of graffiti, meaning there were sudden radical shifts between red, green, yellow and many more colours, giving the impression that a giant had vomited on it and no one had bothered to clean it up. The main level’s windows were thickly papered over with posters and with the rain of the last few days having soaked them through, Izuku thought he could smell the beginnings of mould.

"Could this be the wrong address?” he suggested. Or possibly some sort of camouflage.

“Nah,” Katsuki said, eyeballing the van out front, “this is it.”

Luminous’ vehicle? He took in the sight of it eagerly, only to turn pale at the purple…'thing' decorating it. “It-it’s probably d-d-designed that way to bl-blend in,” he stammered.

Katsuki gave him a look that said he was deeply stupid.

“Wuss. You've got one of your own, right?”

Izuku squeaked the affirmative.

“Then get your ass in gear,” Katsuki said as they made their way towards the door.

Right. Get on track. Izuku scanned down the intercom buttons, pressed the button for the Touya Agency—not the Luminous or Todoroki Agency?—and prepared himself. This was his area. They wanted information and Katsuki, when he talked to people, tended to elicit fear (Izuku when they were younger), anger (Katsuki’s mother) or apathy (Aizawa-sensei). Fear might work in some cases, but against a professional hero? He doubted it would work. 

And if Luminous was anything like his father, the idea was laughable.

“Yeah?” crackled the intercom.

“Hello, Luminous-san?” There was a vague grunt of assent and Izuku continued, “We are here about the hero student kidnappings. We were hoping to talk to you.”

“I’m on my way down.”

As they waited, Izuku pushed a bright smile onto his face—best to look friendly—and indicated for Katsuki to do the same. It didn’t work of course; though, he seemed a little less likely to murder the door. Katsuki never did like asking for outside help.

There was a clunking sound as the door swung open and there was Luminous.

Finding pictures of underground heroes was always a trial and the ones that did exist tended to be from a distance and blurry at that. So to see one up close, even one like Luminous who straddled the line between above- and underground, was a treat (Izuku still couldn’t believe that Eraserhead was his gym teacher). Luminous wasn’t dressed in his costume (or maybe the black jacket and pants with white shirt were an informal one?), but he was getting to see him up close.

Izuku found himself looking for similarities between the Luminous and his father. The hair was obviously different (the picture he had seen of a young Todoroki Touya had all had red hair). The build was completely different, Luminous, while taller than normal (about an inch on Kacchan) and toned was nothing close to Endeavor’s height and bulk. It was sort of hard to compare facial features given that Endeavor rarely was seen without that flame mask on. 

Oh now, Izuku could see the family resemblance. Luminous was looking down at him, making his father’s blue-green eyes evident. Plus the expression and the way he was holding himself made him look just like the pictures of Endeavor when he was annoyed and—

“Oi nerd!” Katsuki whacked him upside the head. “Stop nerding and talk to him!”

“Uh, hello,” Izuku began, having just realized why Luminous looked like Endeavor when he was annoyed.

He didn’t get any further than that as the man's gaze slid to Katsuki. As the hero took in spiky blond hair, red eyes and surly face, a new expression shifted into place.

Izuku didn’t get a chance to identify it because Luminous went “Fuck no!” Then, he slammed the door in their faces.

By the time Touya left the building's entry, his libido had been murdered, buried and was not so much pushing up daisies so much as handing out bouquets.

Damn Aizawa. The blond kid would have forgotten him if hadn't been for the fact that Aizawa had shoved them into each other.

Next time Touya saw Aizawa, he ought to bring one of those bouquets. That way he could feed it to him.

Teenagers and smarmy ex-mentors aside, Touya was still willing to try to give his libido a jump and had been tempted to grab Tensei by the shirt and pull him close. Except when he returned, he found the speedster nose-deep in one of his comic books. 

Sure why not? Touya rolled his eyes and popped the seals on the envelopes and started reading the Quirk analysis report.

The bossy little girl's Quirk stood out. Tentatively named ‘Dial’, her Quirk could increase or decrease the output of an Emitter; in this case, she could decrease a Quirk by up to a half and go as far as doubling it. One wondered what she’d be able to do when she was grown. Quirks that interacted with other Quirks were a rarity and up until that night, the only one Touya had personally met was Aizawa. If he managed to find Monoma Neito with his Copy Quirk, that would make three. 

From what he gleaned from Watanabe, Monoma had been tattooed with a lily, and if his buyer was interested in Quirk interaction…

Nope. The bossy girl had a butterfly. No apparent link there.

Touya reviewed the other kids’ Quirks and tattoos. The eldest had aerokinesis and a lily. The remaining four all had koi fish, with a fire Quirk, a speed one and two strength enhancers. Next to a couple of these, Tensei had added his own notes which were a contrast to those the assessor from the Quirk Licensing Board had done. So, in addition to the dull descriptions of energy output, power usage and expected growth amounts, there were questions like ‘Does she move all of the air or just certain gases?’ or observations such as ‘He needs to eat vegetable of the amaranth for power. Translation: he gets strong when he eats spinach.' with a little drawing of a sailor next to it.

But both assessors make one thing abundantly clear: the kids' power and control were very well-developed for being so young. Too well-developed. He sneered as he turned a page, already knowing what to expect. 

Beside each name in black and white was the rank ‘Private, Quirk Division' in the People's Army of North Korea.

These kids hadn’t seen the All Might-Toxic Chainsaw battle from their homes. They’d seen it from their training camp. After their Quirks had manifested, they’d been drafted and taken away from their family. He had known about the draft; he hadn't known that it kicked at such a young age.

Touya idly traced the edge of the document. One of the few—the very few—things that he could give the Old Man when it came to how Shouto had been trained was the fact that he hadn’t taken him away from Mom and their siblings. 

Sure, be dragged away from them time after time. Sure, be trained so hard and so often, that when they did see them, they were so tired that they could barely stand, let alone talk. Still, even then, there had been moments between them. Shared meals. The odd hug.

Touya’s sneer turned razor-sharp. In the end, he supposed, it didn’t make too much difference. People who did such things deserved to burn. Why get hung up on the details?

He wrapped the edge of a sheet around one long lean finger, feeling the thin flimsiness of the paper against his skin.

“Hey!” Touya found himself pulled away from the document and there was Tensei, holding a glass of water threateningly over Touya’s hand. 

“I know. Believe me, I know," Tensei said, "but I don’t think pyromania is the answer.”

“You’ve seen me work… I would think that in my case, pyromania is always the answer,” Touya snarked. When Tensei didn’t budge, he shrugged. “I wasn’t going to set anything on fire. I’d have burnt down a hundred buildings by now if I did that every time I got pissed.” 

“Alright,” Tensei allowed, relaxing his hold, but not before pouring the water on both Touya’s hands. At Touya’s displeasure, Tensei replied with a chagrined look and said, “Just in case. Recovery Girl did say no flames. She’ll kill me if she got wind that I let you.”

“Whatever,” Touya grunted, but couldn’t help but follow that with a snort.

Tensei glanced down at the comic book he’d been reading, then back at Touya. “So maybe we should get back to where we were before we were interrupted?”

The room’s ambiance had changed since then, but if Tensei was willing to give it the old college try, Touya would be willing to join in.

“So, what do you think? Dinner? Drinks? Both?”

Apparently, Touya had misunderstood. Fuck. This was not what he wanted. He'd got into the sappy stuff exactly once and that had been enough for a lifetime.

He huffed out a breath. “Look Iida,” he said, “I am not exactly the romance and candlelit dinners sort. I’m not in it for a boyfriend. So, maybe—”

“—that’s why we should talk,” Tensei continued smoothly. “Make sure we’re both on the same page so nobody gets hurts. The dinner gives us a place to do that and a veneer of propriety.” A very thin veneer from the glint in Tensei’s eye.

“I’m expecting a call and I got work tonight.”

“Fair." It didn't stop a flicker of disappointment from the Engine Hero. "I suppose we could talk here instead. And as for the rest, do you need backup with your hands like that?” 

“I got a couple other tricks. Besides, you're not supposed to use your engine when it's dented.” He didn't need Recovery Girl breathing down his neck for letting Tensei hurt himself.

Tensei smirked. “Who is to say I don’t have a couple tricks too?”

Touya still declined. However, he was struck by the stark difference between the Iida brothers. He couldn’t picture the prim, proper and altogether too stiff Tenya doing underground hero work, let alone flirting. If they didn’t look so much alike, Touya would have had trouble thinking they were related. 

This last thought lasted for less then half a minute, at which point, Tensei started bringing up questions about what their potential relationship would entail with such attention to detail that Touya could have sworn he could see a ghostly clipboard in Tensei’s hands, guiding the man’s every word so he might tick off the talking points one by one.

Touya wanted things casual. Tensei was okay with that. Both agreed that condoms would always be used. Both had been tested relatively recently and were clean. These first three, Touya kind of got, but the conversation didn’t stop there and led onto things like safewords and kinks. 

Touya stretched his arms over his head and listened to the little crackling sounds they made, amusing himself by picturing them to be the sound of one of two of those teens’ bones breaking. The whole getting laid business had been straight to the point before being interrupted, and this new song and dance of Tensei’s left his skin feeling too tight. Touya sure as hell had never done anything like this with any past fuck buddies or, as Tensei loftily put it, ‘friends with benefits’. They’d only cared about how fast they could get his pants off.

At six feet with silky blue hair and lean muscle, Iida Tensei was not exactly ugly, and probably worthwhile waiting for the show to end. Besides, if things got particularly trying, there was the window over there and from there, the fire escape. 

The fire escape that was now occupied by two teenagers. 

The blond crazy teen was glowering at him with such ferocity that one would think his red eyes were lasers, attempting to melt the glass separating them. It was a stark contrast to his smaller companion, whose baby-face, fluffy green hair were being used to give Touya an oh-so-innocent smile.

Fat luck of that working, Natsuo had patented that look and it didn’t work for him. At least not since he hit puberty. Or at least not most of the time. Probably. 

One way or another, while Tensei continued down his checklist, Touya threw his legs up onto his desk and kicked back in his chair. There, he started examining his nails, taking great satisfaction in the incredulity that poured off them in waves. 

Eventuality, the disregard proved too much for blondie, who responded by giving the window a few kicks. This drew Tensei’s attention. 

“That’s Bakugou…from the weekend,” Tensei said as green boy beamed, hope gleaming in his eyes. “What is he doing here?”

“Annoying me.”

Tensei took in the curve to Touya’s lips. “Is that so?” 

“Yep. I hate kids.”

Tensei tilted his head to get a good view of the missing child posters on the wall behind him. “Is that so?”

“Yep.”

“Alright.” Then after the next kick, Tensei added, “And you’re not worried about the window?” 

“Nah, re-enforced.” 

In the end, Tensei just shrugged. “It’s your house,” he said and went back to list despite the increasingly loud kicks which were now joined by obscenities. 

It began to rain and Touya watched as the green kid’s hopes were drowned and buried next to his own libido. Tensei finished soon afterward and as he packed up, asked, “How’d they get up there anyway?” They were on the third floor and the fire escape ladders weren’t extended.

Touya took a closer look at the fire escape. “There’s a rope.” Opposed to being held in place by a hook, it appeared to be literally stuck to the edge of the wall beside the fire escape with what looked like an oversized piece of tape.

“Pretty good rainstorm out there. Might get slippery,” Tensei observed.

Fuck. He was right. Grumbling to himself, Touya went to unlock the window. 

“So you hate kids?”

“Yes,” Touya bit out. He did hate them. It was just that some idiot teenagers falling to their deaths outside his agency might drag the cops and bring all sorts of drama into his life.

The kids clambered inside. “About fucking time,” Bakugou said while his friend said, “It’s so great to meet you Luminous-san, sir. It’s so rare to meet underground heroes and...”

Which was bullshit in these kids' cases. Aizawa said that Bakugou was into vigilante stuff and Eel had been bitching about having to rescue two justice-crazed teens from one of her sewers. Dollars to donuts, that the kids had met more than a few underground types.

“...rescued my best friend,” the green kid babbled. “I had to meet you to say how grateful I am.”

“Suck up,” Bakugou muttered.

“You’re grateful too,” his friend shot back.

“Hmph.”

The green kid kicked him in the shin.

“Okay, okay.” Bakugou crossed his arms and, refusing to look directly at Touya, said, “Thanks for rescuing the brats... OW! And me. NotthatIneededsaving.” 

Ignoring the second sentence, the green kid beamed at Bakugou as if the other boy was a dog that had done a particularly remarkable trick.

“Don’t forget to suck up to this one too,” Touya said, sticking his thumb at Tensei. “He saved your ass too.”

Bakugou looked the other hero up and down. “You’re Glasses’ brother, eh? Look like him. Less dweeby though.”

The kid should have seen him a minute ago.

This time, Bakugou said thank you without anymore prompting.

The green kid pulled out two notebooks then gave them to Tensei so that the Great and Power Engine Hero could sign them, which he did so while amicably answering questions about his Quirk and career. He then rounded on Touya who found himself being stared at by himself twice over. 

“Sorry,” the green kid said. “I couldn’t find any recent photos of you in your current costume.”

Under fiery script that spelled out ‘Luminous’ in Romanji, was Todoroki Touya, age fifteen. Some asshole in the Support Department had decided dressing him in a miniature version of his father’s costume would be cute.

“No. Don’t do autographs.” 

“Cute,” commented Tensei as he peeked over Touya’s shoulder, “Though, I think you’re being a bit harsh on the kid. A couple signatures aren't a big deal.”

“I. Hate. Kids,” Touya said, enunciating every syllable as if Tensei too was a child and a particularly slow one at that.

“I heard. I heard.” Tensei held up his hands in a conciliatory gesture. “But even hurt ones?”

Touya eyed the kids. Sure enough, there on their heads were splotches of light marroon, the tell-tale signs of bruises coming in.

“They’re probably from hero training,” Touya protested. “Superficial stuff.” U.A. wouldn’t have let them leave without healing them if there was anything serious.

“Actually, I’m in the Support Program,” the green kid said.

“And we got them when we came here,” pointed out Bakugou.

Touya could hear the echo of a slamming door. Natsuo, the interfering brat, had gone behind his back and paid to have both the building’s main door and his agency’s door upgraded. The new ones had steel cores and were heavy. How close had the teens been when he had slammed it shut? He hadn’t been paying attention at the time, just wanting them to go away. Had they been standing in the doorframe at the time?

Had he hurt them? 

He bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted copper. “There’s a towel in the bathroom. Dry off,” he ordered. They’d already dripped enough water onto his floor. “When you’re done, I’ll check for concussions.” 

As the boys headed to the bathroom, Tensei mouthed the words ‘You hate kids.’

He gave a wave. Then, Touya's former bootycall laughed his way out of the agency.

Touya gave him the finger.

Touya had thought that Bakugou, the crazy suicidal kid, would be the difficult one.

Touya had been wrong.

Touya had thought the green-haired kid's earlier questions about Endeavor had been annoying.

Touya had been wrong.

Touya had thought it had been safe to answer one simple question from the green kid about his Quirk. 

“...if you had sent your hair to a lab. I’ve been reading an article on the skin, hair, nails and teeth of Emitters and how their Quirks react to it and I noticed during your second Sports Festival that you grazed your hair with your fire multiple times…”

Touya had been wrong.

“...and it was fine and since your fire is naturally hotter than Endeavor’s and even his burns if he uses Prominence Burn too many times so that means there’s something special about yours and since he’s your dad….”

Did this kid ever shut up about Quirks? 

“...it would be really interesting to see if there’s something special in your DNA or if it is epigenetics or something else that gives it its resistance and...”

Apparently, not.

The kid only stopped just long enough to take a breath then launch into another nigh incomprehensible sentence. However this time, fate decided to be merciful and throw a bone Touya’s way. 

“Deku!” shouted Bakugou. “Get your ass back to Earth!”

“Oh,” said Deku, blinking. “Uh, sorry Luminous-san. It’s just Emitter Quirks and their connected Mutant aspects are a favourite area of mine because it’s not clear if—”

“It’s not why we’re here. So, cut it out or I’ll kick your ass!”

Opposed to rankling at the threat, Deku—and what kind of name was ‘Useless’?—seemed grateful. “Thanks, Kacchan.” 

Touya shone the penlight in the green kid’s eyes, double-checking them for the eighth time. The dilation was normal and the pupils were the same size. Despite the substantial evidence to the contrary, no concussion. Both kids were fine.

Personally, he was more worried about himself. With the headache he was getting, Touya wondered if he was the one with the concussion.

“We’re here about what happened this weekend,” Deku said to Touya.“We are really grateful for what you and the other heroes did. It’s just the entire thing freaked me and Katsuki out”—the other boy grunted—“and we thought it might help if we could—”

Touya didn’t need to think about it. “No.”

This did little to deter Deku. “I realize that you might hesitate, but we have experience—”

“No.” The kid’s mania may have eased, leaving the teen if not back on Earth, at least in a sub-lunar orbit; however, in its place was a look so bright and sincere that it could starch shirts. That sort of thing belonged in a Hallmark card and not in Touya’s agency.

“If you’d just give us a chance—”

“No.”

“Forget it.” Bakugou sneered. “Propane here ain’t going to budge. First, he runs away when I tried to talk to him at school. Second, he slams the door in our face. Third, he left us out in the rain. And now, here he is not even given us a chance to fucking speak.”

Touya raised a brow at him then strode towards his kitchenette. “Funny, how you phrase it all… Firstly, I was at U.A. to talk to Aizawa and not chit chat with entitled squirts.” It wasn’t much of a kitchenette, just a mini-fridge with a falling apart cabinet beside it and a kettle on top. “Secondly, my agency. If you don’t have some sort of urgent heroic business, you can make a phone call. Otherwise, I sure as hell don’t have to let you in.” He opened the fridge and fished around in the little freezer compartment. “Thirdly, you two brought that on yourselves. Given your crap thinking, I should have left you out there longer as it seems like your brain is overheated.” Touya pulled out two ice packs and wrapped them in some paper towels from the cabinet. “And now , you two are going to get out of here before I arrest your asses for trespassing.”

“But we—” began Deku.

“Got onto my balcony, which is part of my place of business and not accessible from the ground; thus trespassing . Keep it up and I could charge your buddy with an attempted break and enter for kicking the window.” Touya tossed the ice packs at the teenagers. Deku nearly fumbled his, while Bakugou snatched his out of the air with cat-like speed. “Put ‘em on the bruises. No more than twenty minutes an hour.” Then, Touya gave them a syrupy sweet smile and said, “Now, would you kindly get the fuck out?”

“Told you it wouldn’t work. He’s one of Aizawa’s lot, so a stubborn fucker,” Katsuki said, pressing the ice pack to his aching nose. It had taken a bit of nagging before Katsuki had been willing to use it as he had not been willing to accept ‘scraps’. But his best friend had long since mastered the art of wrangling and threatened to tell everyone at school that he had given them to himself because he wanted to look tough. Apparently, the support department was full of gossips and if pushed, Izuku would weaponize them.

“Yeah, he is a stubborn fu—” Izuku caught himself, eyes wide with horror. “He is difficult.”

Darn. That had been close. One of these days, Izuku would swear. A bit more work on Katsuki’s end and it would happen. They were so close that he could practically taste it.

“It would have been so much better if he let us help or given us some info.” Izuku sighed, then straightened. “But it wasn’t that bad.”

Izuku was right. It hadn’t been that bad. Not bad at all.

Touya was reviewing the few on-line articles on tengu, because, yes, he was able to do a basic Google search—if Fuyumi found out, she'd probably faint—and if he’d had to use the Tech Guide for Extremely Stupid Older Brothers that Natsuo had oh-so-helpfully made for him… Well, there was no one there to see it.

Evidently, tengu had started as some sort of bird-man yokai. Later on, they morphed into red-faced bearded men with noses that could cause a guy to get a little insecure, which fit with Tensei’s description of the second villain at Carkoon Condos.

Characterwise, they could be anything from demons and harbingers of war to kami that protected nature. There were a zillion different takes and interpretations of them; however, the one that stood out to Touya was the depiction of the tengu as malicious tricksters who kidnapped children. If the Tengu was playing this mythological tidbit up, he was likely the one who had snatched the hero kids.

Touya grimaced as he finished one article. He hoped the asshole wasn’t too into the part as children who were returned or rescued were often found to be hopelessly insane.

The entire read-through made Touya notice a big whacking hole in his education. The Old Man hadn’t seen much of a point having him educated in Japanese mythology, something that the tengu featured heavily in. Most kids had probably grown up with stories about the things. 

Looking back it was surprising that Tensei had known what tengu were. He would have figured the Iida parents, like Endeavor, wouldn’t have wanted their prodigal heroes to learn such ‘fluff’. 

Meh, maybe they didn’t want Tensei and Tenya making them look bad by coming off as 'uncultured'. 

The office phone jangled and Touya put aside the contemplation. Sure enough, it was one of his contacts passing on the location and time of tonight’s Le Theatre de la Lune. It made him all the gladder that the kids had finally scampered. If Aizawa was right—and he generally was—Bakugou was into vigilante crap and if he had overheard the address… 

Mr. Compress had a strict ‘No Shit’ policy and anyone who flouted this had to deal with his staff, meaning being overwhelmed within seconds. The place attracted all sorts of charming people from all walks of life, which meant it was extremely useful. Unfortunately, the policy didn’t apply off-property and some of those charming people were liable to eat your face—a 'pleasure' which Touya had witnessed.

He retrieved an item from a filing cabinet and took it to the bathroom. A thick layer of dust covered it, but a steady stream of water and a few seconds put that to right, revealing the mask below. When he returned to his desk, Touya placed it so it was facing him and breathed. 

The mask was an odd thing. For all the morbidity of the grinning skull, just looking at it caused a knot within himself to unwind.

More than Luminous the pro hero. More than Natsuo and Fuyumi’s brother. More than Endeavor’s failure. This was him.

Touya found his lips pulling back to match its deathly grin with one of his own. It had been long, too long since Dabi had come out to play.

It was then he noticed that his desk drawer was ajar. He gave it an idle shove, but it stubbornly stayed put, refusing to close that last centimetre. The remnants of the knot within Touya twisted together and found his grin fading from his face.

He pulled the drawer out and reached in, feeling for the obstruction, and discovered a small disc sticking to the wood. His nails screamed as he dug them and pried it out. It was a bug, the sort of cheap one that a teenager could afford. A bug in the drawer directly below his landline phone. Shit.

Pulling up Bakugou’s file, he rang his home number. The teen's father picked up. As it so happened, his son had called a few minutes earlier to announce that he and a friend were going ‘out’ and he passed on his son’s number, but when Touya tried it, all he got was voice mail.

The image of watching that man’s face get ripped off as he pleaded for mercy flashed behind Touya’s eyes, but this time the man wasn’t a man. Instead, he was replaced by someone younger, smaller, softer, an innocent little kid who didn’t know what he had walked into.

The bug melted within Touya’s hand and its death throes marked with desperate sparks.

Innocent? Who he was kidding? The kid— Both of the kids shouldn’t be anywhere near the place. Should have the brains to stay the hell away. If they were stupid enough to go, then they deserved what they got. Touya couldn’t go there, a place awash with information, and waste his time by chasing after them. Touya had other things to do. Had actual innocent kids, not moronic teenagers, to save. 

He found himself running through his list of hero contacts. Aizawa was out. He’d been spending his evening in Hosu, hunting some guy who'd been killing heroes. The Eel couldn’t stand Touya and was likely to take any request from him with suspicion. MiniHer and Speed Demon were recovering from serious injuries. Munchkin, Bonsai and Hope were horrible at anything vaguely undercover. Douglas Fir was on Compress’ shit list.

Crossing his fingers he dialled number. Thankfully, five rings in, Tensei picked up.

"You wanted to do something, right?" Touya asked.

"Yes?"

"How does the theatre sound?"

From his perch upon Touya's desk, Dabi smirked at him.

Chapter Text

The Blood We Share
Chapter 9

"No. No sorries."

“I am pretty sure there’s something in my contract about not being your personal gofer,” Emoji grumbled. She held the plastic bag as far from her body between two dainty fingers as if it might leak toxic waste upon her.

“You’ve done it before,” Tensei pointed out.

“For work, not your weird ass hobbies.”

“This is for work.”

She looked at him from over the top of her shades. “Is that so? ‘Cause the way I hear it is your folks put you on a month’s mandatory leave after the little incident on the weekend.”

“As I recall, it’s my agency, not theirs.”

She snorted. “Better tell them then.”

Sigh. His grandparents had been the same. At the time, Tensei had thought his father’s complaints had been funny. Now, faced with his own parents periodically ‘forgetting’ about their retirement and the suspicious bouts of deafness whenever he tried to remind them, Tensei was finding karma existed and it was a malicious bastard.

“It’s for a work-related party?” Tensei suggested hopefully.

Emoji shook the bag, causing the Superman ‘S’ emblazoned on the bag to fly back and forth. “And what kind of work party needs supplies from a cosplay store?”

“A Halloween party.”

“A Halloween party,” Emoji echoed flatly.

“Yep.”

“In the spring?”

“Yep.” 

Emoji groaned. “Please tell me you can lie better than that. Otherwise, you might as well go undercover as a giant name tag with ‘Ingenium’ on it.” She tossed the bag to Tensei then shouted out the window, “Hey! Lover boy!”

Out on the fire escape, Touya was trying to remove the rope which the teenagers had used to climb up. Trying being the operative word as he fruitlessly attacked it with a knife that looked similar to Aizawa's. The tape-like material attaching it to the brick facade and the rope attached to it had both proven immensely strong. Tensei had threatened Touya with a bucket of water to keep him from trying to burn it off with his hands.

At the call, Touya gave up and came inside. “Lover boy?”

“Yeah, it’s been going all around the office. Apparently, you two are a hot item. Literally.” She waggled her eyebrows suggestively. “Now then, lover boy, gotta tell you to keep an eye on the boss here. He doesn’t do the undercover stuff too often, so you’re in charge of keeping him in shipshape or else…”

“...you’ll have a ‘talk’ with me?” 

“Hell no, he’s my boss. I’m supposed to believe he can take care of himself.” Emoji removed her shades, examining the lenses for spots. “Nah, if he gets hurt, you’ll have to reckon with the other Iidas. His old lady will throw you across the city and his old man will run you over until you’re as flat as a pancake. The youngest, meanwhile, will give you a ten hour lecture on how you failed your relationship duties”—she shuddered—” with slides .” 

Tensei had to admit the description of Tenya’s tendencies wasn’t entirely inaccurate.

Most when faced with such a threat would either laugh it off or get nervous. Touya did neither, shrugging instead. “Huh,” he said. “So you got an outfit for Iida that will do?” 

Emoji tossed the bag to Tensei. He pulled out the contents and was delighted with what he found. Awesome! Not only had she found a costume that would hide his identity, she had grabbed one that fit his tastes. Nice to know all that time uploading all those vintage cartoons onto the break room’s computer had borne fruit. All he needed to do was gain a canine nemesis and the vision would be complete.

Touya’s reaction was less enthusiastic, looking at it as if it might spring to life then run away. And hoping desperately it would happen. Shame. Some people had no appreciation for the classics. 

“Great, my backup is a blue chicken,” Touya said. “At least the feathers will hide your engines.”

Emoji gestured towards Touya as if to say, ‘At least someone here has a brain.’

“Thanks,” Tensei said to Emoji. 

She tensed and the shrug that followed was painfully mechanical. “It’s the job. Besides, I owe you."

“Really. You went above and beyond with this.”

Her aura of bravado flickered then died under the compliment. “Yeah, went ‘above and beyond’ this time,” she spat. “But on the weekend, I was supposed to bring your pack to you at the hospital. Not even one fucking minute there and I tossed your bag to the first person who claimed to be going your way, then ran like hell.”

And Tensei had a good idea as to why. Emoji was formerly of the Brave Ten. Then  she’d been half-crushed by a building on the job. After three years and countless treatments, she had returned to work with a clean bill of health. 

And a prescription painkiller addiction.

“You did what you had to,” he told her. Meanwhile, the dispatcher who’d sent her to the hospital was going to get raked over the coals. She’d fought too hard to get clean only for some ignoramus who thought she was faking to drag her back down.

“Whatever,” Emoji said, regaining some of her earlier attitude. “I just hope no one in the dweeb store recognized me.” She slid her sunglasses back on. “I have a rep to maintain.”

After she left, Touya asked, “You think she followed all the rules? Bought your outfit while in civies? Used cash instead of card?” From the window, he watched her crossed the street, assessing every inch of her.

Irritation rippled through Tensei. 

It wasn’t like drug addiction was uncommon among heroes; between the stress and the injuries, it was depressingly so. But where others’ faults were ignored, Emoji dealt with all the crap. 

Didn’t matter that she was good in a fight. Didn’t matter that her ethics record prior was on par with Yamada's. Didn’t matter that she’d helped found the agency. She’d been tossed out of it and rejected from every one since, all because she hadn’t had the decency to fall apart quietly. Apparently, a hero overdosing in public was a humiliation to society. Better for them to do so in the privacy of their own home.

Better a tragedy than an embarrassment.

Embarrassment? Bring it on, Tensei had a little brother. He fed on the stuff.

“She did fine,” Tensei said coolly.

Touya lifted a brow at Tensei’s tone. “I would have asked it of any of your sort. You tend to draw attention.” 

Alright. Alright. Tensei eased off the gas. Touya’s comment was typical of underground heroes and if he was honest, not without merit. Last he heard, Aizawa pretty much had a restraining order on Yamada when it came to his operations. Tensei had done some undercover work with Uncle Sora but he doubted Touya knew about that. Honestly, it was a compliment that Touya trusted him to come along.

“That being said, maybe we can use that to our advantage. Maybe bypass disguises altogether,” Touya suggested.

“Oh?” Maybe he could save this one for the actual Halloween party.

“Put some wax on your armour and you’ll blind anyone before they recognize us.”

“Ha. Ha.”

Sometimes Izuku got the impression that Katsuki would rather live in a shounen manga or a classic James Bond film than in the real world. Thus, when faced with the supposed location of Le Theatre de la Lune, Katsuki's reaction was a predictable "Meh." 

“They’re not going to purposely make it look suspicious,” Izuku reminded him. 

"Did I say that?" Nonetheless, Izuku saw it in the way Katsuki crossed his arms and how the ends of his scowling lips were pulled further down than normal. Even if he hadn’t, Izuku knew his friend. Put Katsuki in a villain's lair built into a volcano and throw in a laser trap or two and he’d be as happy as Aizawa-sensei with a kitten. 

In truth, Izuku was disappointed too. He'd had big hopes for the Quirk club. La Lune was rumoured to be the most exclusive Quirk club in Japan and the dull, crisp lines of the Musutafu business district didn’t fill him with amazement.

Following the instructions from the phone call which they’d overheard, they headed into the alley behind one building and pulled on the dress code-required masks and black sweats to hide their regular clothes and Izuku’s belt of goodies. Izuku had selected a rabbit mask. Katsuki had nettled him a little bit on this. Thus, Izuku was getting his revenge by not pointing out that Katsuki's ‘wolf’ mask was actually a chihuahua.

This area proved a bit more promising as the alleys in this part were dimly lit and a mess of corridors from the constant destruction and rebuilding during the Dawn of Quirks.

Waiting at the intersection of two alleys, Izuku looked around curiously. If he were to guess, La Lune was going to take place in one of the office buildings. Maybe on a floor that was under construction. So, someone would likely meet and give them a passcard or keycard and then they’d—

The ground dropped from under them. 

They landed on what felt like a cushion of air twenty feet down. The tunnel which they had found themselves in was empty of the Quirk users who must have been responsible, but was filled with torches lighting the way.

Katsuki shrugged. “Suppose it doesn’t completely suck.”

They made their way down the tunnel with the intervals between torches steadily decreasing and Izuku’s mind whirred. The tunnel was likely made with a similar Quirk to Cementoss-sensei and—Izuku sniffed the air, noting smoke from the torches but nothing outrageous—someone was bringing in fresh air while expelling the smoke. Probably had a Quirk like that tall blond in 1-A. What was his name again? Loud Mouth? No, that’s what Katsuki called him. It was something that started with an 'I'. 

A shake from Katsuki jarred Izuku back into reality.

At the end of the tunnel, stood a broad man. He might have been intimidating, what with his dark fencing outfit that remained midnight black despite the corona of torchlight surrounding him, if it were not for the fact he was glued to his phone, playing what appeared to be Candy Crush. Upon noticing them, he sprang to attention and hid the phone behind his back. “What brings you here?” he asked in a clearly fake bass.

“Information,” Katsuki said, and mask or no mask, Izuku could see the roll of his eyes.

“Tickets or cash?”

“How much?”

The bouncer named a number and Izuku’s jaw dropped. Beside him, Katsuki’s teeth ground as he dug through his pockets, pulled out a thick wad of bills and counted out over half of them.

But before he could pay, a sleek black cane snaked out from behind the bouncer and a younger, more eloquent voice said, “No, no, none of that, my friend.” The cane twitched up and down in time with his words. “These are newcomers to our humble establishment.” Then it pushed the large men aside as easily as one might a curtain. 

The cane’s owner was the opposite of the bouncer in many respects. Where the bouncer was bulky, his figure was lithe. Where the bouncer was dressed simply, he was dressed to the nines with midnight black pants and vest, a plum silk shirt and a top hat with a long peacock feather that burst from its side. Finishing it off, his white mask had black markings that gave the impression that he was winking at them. 

“Mr. Compress,” Izuku breathed.

“Who else would it be? La Lune is mine.” 

“Well yes, but I didn’t think I’d get to meet you in person.”

Mr. Compress hooked a thumb in his vest and puffed his chest out. “It seems that I have a fan.” Then, he twirled his cane between his hands in a blur, slammed its point hard onto the floor then led them to the hallways’ exit, strutting the entire way, and into..

Wonder.

Numerous men and women had small light-shows emanating from their bodies. Wherever he turned, he found sparks dancing across fingertips, hair shining like halos, and in one case, a ruby red pouring from a man’s chest, pulsing in time to his heartbeat. Where many people with more radical mutations hid their differences, here not so much. One person had a nose so big that their eyes and mouth seemed an afterthought. A woman had a necklace of extra mouths, looping her neck. Another person of indeterminate gender had shiny beetle-like carapace instead of skin. And there were—so many, many—more.

“What’s the point of the masks, when they’re showing off their Quirks?” Katsuki muttered. “Any cop with a brain could probably book half of ‘em in a glance.”

“For some, the masks are a fun bit of theatre. A game we all indulge. For others, they don’t really care about hiding their identity, the real highlight of coming here is the chance to ‘unmask’ per se, to show off their true selves in a welcoming environment.” Compress indicated the carapaced person, and here, Izuku’s cheeks burned as he realised that the carapace was indeed all over and the person’s gender was no longer so indeterminate. “For yet more others, it does provide a bit of anonymity.” Compress nodded towards them. “For example, yourselves… I doubt you wish the patrons here to know you are mere children.”

The boys tensed.

“What makes you say that?” Izuku kept his words low and quiet.

“Magic,” Compress answered and with an intricate flourish of his cane, he led them to a table. “Please do not take that as a threat but rather a warning. This establishment prides itself on its safety as violence has never been—will never be—tolerated, but I can not assure your safety to and from here. Alas, not all those who flaunt the rules do with my level of class and grace... Now, I must adieu. A host has many duties and greeting guests is merely one.” He bowed low, the feather of his hat caressing the ground.

Izuku watched him as he went before his eyes strayed to a man deep in conversation with others, animatedly gesturing with a hand that was rapidly changing shape. Screwdriver. Cat. Cricket bat. 

He moved onto the rest of their surroundings. The source of the theatre's lighting was a hundred floating globes of light nestled against the ceiling, the stage seemed to have grown out of the rock itself and at the bar off to the side, he spotted a waitress, who for a healthy tip, would change the shape of her customers’ glasses. In truth, the result resembled something a glassblower might produce if they had the hiccups, but it was still a fantastic Quirk.

This place was a treasure trove and his hands itched to grab a notebook from his belt.

“Oi, Deku,” Katsuki said. “Am I going to be babysitting you this entire time? ‘Cause if I am, I’m taking the fees out of your...” He trailed off as one of his hands fell against the upholstery of his chair. He recognized the plush velvet then, pinched the tablecloth between two fingers, rubbing it thoughtfully, then cast a gaze at the stage’s curtain and the huge moon depicted on it, embroidered in pain-staking beauty in shining shades of silver and blue. “Fuck. That’s done by hand .”

Katsuki might not actively appreciate his parent’s fashion business, but Izuku knew him well enough to know it had left its mark. Sleepovers were often punctuated by Katsuki grumbling his way through removing miniscule stains from his clothes, ironing his school uniform just enough so he didn’t resemble a bum but not so much that it looked like he cared. Once he’d bodily dragged Izuku away when he’d been about to purchase an All Might shirt because the shade of blue was slightly off.

“You were talking about babysitters, Kacchan?” Izuku said.

Katsuki tore his eyes from the curtain. “Shut. Up.”

Izuku didn’t pursue the subject. As they had reminded each other, they were here to get information, not to gawk. Sighing, he looked at the multitude of other patrons with a different focus. Who to talk to? How to approach them?

In the end, he didn’t need an answer to any of those things as it seemed that the bouncer had passed on the news that they wanted information and one by one, men and women made their way to the table. 

The first two knew nothing. The third, a weasley blond man who stank of sour nicotine, hinted that he knew something, but one glance at Katsuki’s stack of bills later and he snorted then moved on. It wasn’t until the eighth person that they got anywhere. The current informant was a tiny man, shorter than even Izuku, the upper half of his face covered by a sheep mask. After a few bills had been passed over, he started talking. At first, it was mainly things that Izuku could have gotten from the news, then it moved into more promising territory with stuff that had been on Luminous’ computer before finally moving into the events after Katsuki had been rescued such as the kidnappers who had escaped and…

Izuku was nearly knocked out of his seat as a third chair was shoved between his and Katsuki’s. Dressed in patched jeans that seemed more patch than jean, a black motorcycle jacket with a barely-there blue sheen, tacky hoop earrings and a grinning skull mask, the mischief maker looked like he belonged either at a discount punk rock concert or a haunted house. He carelessly whacked their legs as he squeezed between them and the table on his way to his seat.

“What the hell?!” Katsuki swore at him. “This is our table. Fuck off!” 

Sheep audibly swallowed then shook himself and said, “You can’t be interfering with my clients, Dabi. It’s not part of the rules.”

“Interfering? Hardly,” the newcomer said. “They want me here, I just gave them a little scare.” He threw his arms around both Izuku and Katsuki’s shoulders. The newcomer said softly, calmly, as if he did this sort of thing everyday. “They’re big fans of mine. Asked for my autograph and everything.”

Oh. Oh. Izuku got it. They were in so much trouble. Even worse if they didn’t go along with this, and here was Katsuki bristling under Luminous’ touch.

The concern proved unnecessary when Luminous slammed one foot then another onto the tabletop and directly in front of Sheep’s face then made a show of examining his nails, finally sparking recognition in the other youth. “Yeah, he’s fine,” Katsuki reluctantly agreed.

“So how about you get back to your story?” Luminous suggested, words airily light. For all of Luminous’ idle speech and body language resembled that which he had used back at his agency, it felt different. It was as if Luminous were a cat, seemingly basking in sun, loose and languid but upon closer inspection, you could see his claws idly slipping in and out of its paws.

“Well, since I was selling the info to two people and now there’s three of you, I think that I shou—”

“Do what, Sheep-chan?” Luminous asked. 

“I-I-I think that I should go on with my story.”

The following tale proved disappointing. It was largely made up of stuff that Izuku and Katsuki already knew. Things they had managed to squeeze out of news articles on the missing hero students and the info Izuku had gathered from Luminous’ computer. Sheep even had some of the facts wrong like the timing of the kidnapping, and didn’t mention the Korean children or Katsuki’s own kidnappings at all.

Despite the lackluster information, Luminous didn’t hesitate in snatching the entire wad of Katsuki’s money and sliding it over to Sheep. Izuku could feel Katsuki bristle from behind his mask. Sure enough, once Sheep was out of range, he demanded to Luminous, “What was that?”

There was no response. Instead, Luminous’ arms tightened, so that his forearm was pressed against their necks. It was a light touch, but Izuku could feel the tense muscles, hidden under the languid pose.

Katsuki hated things touching his neck—the number of his ties that had gone ‘missing’ was enough to attire a law firm—and Izuku tried to catch his eye to remind him that this was not the place or time. It proved unnecessary as a distraction came in the form of a giant blue bird.

“Dabi, no sign of the woman with the ears,” the bird said.

“You sure, Roadie?” The emphasis on the aliases and a glance from the bird made things clear: no real names here.

“I’m sure.” 

“Good.”

Much to his disappointment, Izuku spotted the cheap nylon feathers, and concluded that this was not a bird, not even a person with a mutation that resembled a bird. The little he’d been able to scrape up on Luminous’ habits said that he was picky when it came to partners, so this was likely either Aizawa-sensei—who was too short to be the bird—or Mr. Water Hose—who was still in the hospital. So this was likely Ingenium. Shame, he’d always wanted to get a closer look at a full body mutation. 

“One problem down. A million more to go.”

“Hey, Dabi. You took my cash. What the hell is with that?” Katsuki said.

“Taking away your allowance. Bribing folks is a no-no,” adlibbed Luminous

“Dabi , ” Ingenium warned. “You need them to cooperate.”

Luminous considered this then used the top of one foot to point at Sheep “Sheep-chan over there is less of a sheep and more of a ‘fisherman’. He uses information as bait then reels in people dumb enough to take it. Not all the time, mind you. He takes the time to assess his fishies. People who ask certain questions, often have other more juicy information that he can sell a premium to his real clientele.

“If he’d thought you had something good, he’d either (a) buy it from you or (b) follow you then kick the shit out of you to get the info and that’s only if he’s feeling nice. By the way, (b) is the more likely scenario because you guys have a sign saying ‘Idiotic Newbies Here’ floating over your heads.”

“We could have handled him,” Katsuki stated.

“Suuuure.”

Izuku worried that this would cause Katsuki to (metaphorically) explode and draw more attention, prepared to intervene, but Ingenium headed him off. “And how are we supposed to know that? We are supposed to look out for you. Is it so surprising that we came here to do our job?”

Izuku translated the last two sentences as “We’re heroes. We’re supposed to protect you. So we’re going to do it whether you like it or not.”

“Well, you know now,” Katsuki pointed out, still grouchy but more resigned.

“And why should we trust you, given what you did earlier? “You’ve already delayed Dabi’s work.”

Apparently, Luminous had found the bug which Izuku had put in his office. Izuku considered the various excuses he could use for leaving it there and winced when each and every one sounded more ridiculous than the last. His cheeks heated and he felt grateful for the mask. 

He felt even more grateful when Bakugou’s muscles relaxed like air escaping a bunch of balloons. It didn’t stop his eyes trying to burn a hole through Luminous. Given the hero’s bored posture, Luminous was utterly undaunted.

“So,” said Ingenium to Luminous, “do I take them now or later?”

“Nah. Wait until I get back.”

“We get to see the show?” Izuku blurted out.

Luminous didn’t bother answering and instead stalked off. It was Ingenium who answered, “Sounds like it.” His tone was still chilly but a touch of whimsy had crept in and he moved his chair so he could get a decent view of the stage.

Normally, Touya enjoyed his time as Dabi. Dabi was an information broker. Dabi was a vigilante. Dabi was a villain. Dabi was whatever the hell he wanted to be. As Dabi, Touya could feel the chains of law and society become brittle then shatter. As Dabi, he could follow his impulses and do some real good for this fucked up world. 

Unfortunately, he currently had to rein them in as a couple of teenagers had decided that hanging out in a club filled with villains would be fun . 

Well, he reluctantly admitted the chains loosened rather than shattered. If he actually acted on some impulses he had, Aizawa would truss him up then sic Fuyumi on him or, if he was feeling especially vindictive, Natsuo. Ugh.

Still, there were times it was all too tempting. For example: Monty the cult leader. Monty was an older, heavy-set man wearing an ornate dragon mask that seemed to flow into equally ornate red and yellow robes. He mounted the stage and began to speak. “To you, my brothers and sisters, I bring you greetings from the Destro himself.”

From his spot on a barstool, Touya turned to Compress on the one next to him. “Seriously? You’re letting Monty the Destro groupie be the pre-show?”

Compress removed his main mask to sip at his strawberry daiquiri. The black ski mask underneath framed his mouth perfectly so that Touya could easily see the quirk of his lips. “I believe he calls himself ‘Brother Waterfall’ these days. Besides, I think he makes for an excellent comedy act. And the way his lackeys’ clothes class with the decor adds to the effect.”

Ten of Monty’s followers had settled on the floor before the stage like kindergarteners before their teacher. They too were wearing dragon masks, though their attire was nowhere near as expensive as their leader’s. One’s mask was made out of paper mache that had yet to fully dry, another had a decent mask but had paired it with a bright orange and green dress, and yet another’s mask looked more like a t-rex than a dragon. It wasn’t even a decent t-rex unless they were typically purple, pop-eyed with a large goofy smile; however, Its owner likely didn’t realise the lack of taste as he was hunched and drool periodically dripped from beneath his mask.

Touya took some comfort in the fact that the kids’ costumes weren’t too bad. The black sweatshirts and pants were generic enough. The masks were somewhat unconventional—what sort of teenage boy would want to be a bunny or a chihuahua anyways?—but fully covered their hair, especially good given Midoriya’s distinct dark lime locks. Touya himself had slathered his own white hair with cheap washable black dye. They had only made one mistake that he was grateful for: they had forgotten to change their shoes. Midoriya’s bright red sneakers and Bakugou’s military boots had saved him the trouble of checking out everyone in the theatre. 

“So what brings you here, ‘Dabi’?” inquired Compress. He nodded at the bartenders and within seconds, the air and the rest of the world became silent as a bubble muting them for the outside world was established.

“Same as last.”

The temperature dropped a few degrees. “Last time, I thought I made it clear that there will be no helping heroes here.” 

“And yet, I spy Native over there.” The aboriginal-themed hero was at a table and working his way through a large meal. He was only making a token effort to hide his identity, having swapped his offensive single feathered band for an even more feathered and even more offensive headdress.

“Help heroes directly and personally. Besides, Native is no more a hero than you are. He keeps the real heroes away for a price. Yes, you two may inconvenience the odd purse snatcher, but then again, half of my customers are plotting to spoil the plans of the other half. So nothing new.” He gave an expansive gesture towards the guests. "But they don’t delude themselves into believing they are paragons of justice.”

“We have come far and rightly rejoice, but do not grow idle, my brethren and sistren.”

“Those kids aren’t heroes.”

“Not officially. But they’ve drunk the Kool-Aid per se.”

“So, you’re willing to let kids die.”

Compress held his drink high, jauntily toasting the statement. Not even sixteen and he was willing to condemn them to death. Touya felt a gnawing in his guts, a terrible hunger that demanded the other man’s ashes to satiate. 

“Even now, unholy ones remain. They, whom in their jealousy, would drag us from the Destro’s light into the slimey caves from where they came.”

This was not the time or place, Touya fiercely reminded himself. There were other cases. Other children. Disposing of Compress would lead to losing access to the La Lune and with it one of his best sources of information. Besides, even if he could kill him, there were other concerns. There were the other patrons and there at the entrance, where there had once been a single bouncer, three more identical ones had joined him.

So he changed his tactics. “But what if I told you the kidnappers are messing with other children as well?”

“Go on.”

Touya gave Compress a brief rundown on the Korean children.

“Beware, my friends. There are those among you who are envious of the ones blessed with greater power. So, rather than graciously accept their rightful place, they seek to align themselves with the unholy.”

After Touya finished, Compress examined the dregs of his drink and signalled the bartender for another, then made a show of pretending to be surprised that Touya was still there. “Oh,” Compress said. “I suppose you want an answer. Well, okay then. Feel free to talk to whoever about whatever you want.”.

One would have thought that this had always been Compress’ opinion on the matter. Touya saw it for what it was: a power play. He wouldn’t have been surprised if the other man had already known about the foreign children and was making sure Touya was being honest with him.

And if this was a roundabout way of doing it… Well, Mr. Compress did like to perform.

Now that he had Compress’ blessing to go play ‘hero’, Touya gave himself a small reward. Monty had finally stopped vomiting all over the audience and as he left the stage, Touya allowed his lips to stretch out so that his lower lip emphasized his half-masks’ skeletal grin.

Unconsciously, Monty stepped closer to the follower in the drooling purple mask and rubbed at the arm which had not too long ago had been burnt and broken. Poor Monty. The cult leader sometimes got a little too enthusiastic in his recruiting and some oh-so-foul cretin hadn’t appreciated the lack of manners.

For almost his entire childhood, Touya had wanted Dabi to be his hero name. When he’d been younger and stupider and thought that being known as ‘cremation’ would make him sound cool. Super badass. The sort of name that would cause civilians to worship him, other heroes to bow down in respect for him and villains to run from him.

He had kept the name private until he was fifteen. After some awkward smushing together of lips, he had shared it with Hawks. He had expected praise, but instead Hawks had tried and failed to convince him that it was a villain name. A week later, when they were picking their hero names, it turned out that it was unnecessary as he’d already registered as Luminous and apparently, his classmates and all his teachers ‘knew’ that he’d picked it, and opposed to correcting this, he’d dumbly nodded like a bobble head.

The feathered asshole had been and still was a poor loser. He hadn’t even been a student at U.A. and he’d still managed it. Touya had only been stopped from killing him because Aizawa (after he had wrapped Touya up like a mummy) had threatened to stop mentoring him. He’d also pointed out that Touya wasn’t exactly fluffy on a good day and the name like Dabi was likely to cause civilians to run away from him, other heroes to try to arrest him and villains to invite him over for a beer. 

So, like the times Fuyumi made him eat fish—because apparently Cthulhu abominations were good for him—Touya had buried Dabi and choked down Luminous.

Annoyingly enough, Aizawa and Hawks had been right. Dabi sounded like a villain name and if they wanted to invite him for beer, Touya was all too happy to take advantage. So here he was in a skull mask which covered the upper half of his face, cheap black dye in hair and the fake piercings on his lower lips. 

Scanning the crowd, he spotted the woman with a ‘necklace’ of mouths. One wave later and they were both at the bar. The barman’s lips pulled downward as he noticed Touya toying with one piercing with his tongue. The woman chuckled at the discomfort and added to it by putting an olive near the mouth on her right shoulder. There, the tongue slowly traced the olive with the mouth periodically making smacking noises.

Touya slid a few bills towards the lady. 

Involved in the sex trade as both prostitute and pimp, Necklace had the down-low on a whole lot of criminals and a good number of politicians. Probably not useful for the hero kid case but might come in handy for Toga Himiko’s. The police file listed her as a shapeshifter, Necklace might know something about it. The case was cold but shapeshifters were extremely popular in her trade. 

He didn’t get anything useful from Necklace and moved onto the next guy, making sure to clearly fiddle with a lip ring whenever the bartender looked his way. 

He chatted with a number of other crooks. Most of them had nothing that was currently useful to Touya but that was the point. Dabi was suspected to be an information gatherer for some bigwig out-of-towner. If crooks noticed that too many arrests were made which were connected to information that he gathered, they'd kill him. So, Touya diluted the useful questions with a boatload of other ones. 

As for affording to pay for the info, Touya had no worries. Endeavor complained that Touya wasn’t using the family money. Honestly, such a fuss. Surely he saw the withdrawals on his bank statement. Touya was always more than happy to donate it to the poor underbelly of society.

The tengu villain had been spotted a few times so he had some locations to check. There were also a couple new informants. The first one wore a bandage mask made him look like a hospital escapee and he unfortunately proved useless as, when Touya wanted more detail, the man just stared at him intensely then asked him “Why do you do this?” to which Touya had replied, “Because I want to.” 

With that, the conversation was over and the guy left.

Weirdo.

The second new informant was no more promising, claiming the tengu villain had multiple Quirks with one of them making him go through a second puberty. Given how high the man’s voice was, Touya thought that the man’s first one was overdue.

He didn’t get as much more information but of what he did get, certain bits might be useful. A few shady shipping companies that regularly went from between Japan and Korean waters. Updates on the locations of a few underground doctors.

Occasionally, he checked in on Tensei, Bakugou and the other boy, whom a call to Tensei’s brother had identified as Midoriya. For a conventional hero, Tensei was doing a good job. Fashion choices aside, he was watching the doors without being too obvious and when Compress sent around complimentary drinks to his newest patrons, he absently plucked them from the boys hands, guided by engrained fraternal instinct. 

The comfort evaporated when he checked in on them a minute later to find that Monty had sidled up to them.

Tensei was watching Monty with cool eyes but had rightly decided complaining was more trouble than it was worth. He didn’t know everyone who were dangerous and who weren’t, best not to piss people off.

When Touya headed back to Tensei, Monty scowled at him, patted the boys on the arms then moved off. 

“Is his name really Waterfall?” Tensei asked.

“Nah. It’s Ando. I prefer to call him his jail name Monty.” Monty was a derivation of his Quirk’s name ‘Thermometer.

“Waterfall...and those are supposed to be dragons?” Tensei said.

“Uh huh. A lot of Destro groupies use it as a symbol of their power.”

Tensei tilted his head to the side, the bird-like motion made all the more so by the ample plumage. “Do any Destro followers deal in human trafficking?”

“Not normally.” They were known to pay ludicrous amounts of money for the sperm and ova of powerful Quirk users. They’d sometimes dispense with the money and outright steal them from medical buildings. “Why?”

It was Midoriya who spoke. “Ever heard the story of the koi fish and the dragon?”

“No, what about it?”

Midoriya glanced at the stage where a man appeared to be doing a puppet show by morphing his hands and feet into various characters. He cast a pleading look at Bakugou, his bright green eyes impossibly big despite the mask. 

The other boy gave in immediately, swearing and throwing up his hands. “Stupid nerd. Fine, keep on drooling away. I’ll tell him.”

“Thanks.” Midoriya seemed completely unsurprised by his friend’s concession.

“You don’t know the story of the koi fish and the dragon?” Bakugou asked Touya.

“Obviously not.”

“So you know what a koi fish is, right? Dragon too? Or do I need to spell those out for you as well?”

“I do.” 

“Well, there’s a story where there’s a shitload of them that are swimming up some yellow river in China. Going against the current is hell so as they go they get a workout and get stronger. Unfortunately, someone gave them crap directions and their path has a damn waterfall in the middle of it.

“Most of the fish leave to find a different route. All except one. He figures he’s going to stay and swim his way up the waterfall. So basically, he’s a crazy stupid stubborn bastard of a koi.”

“ Basically , he’s a Kacchan fish,” Midoriya commented. 

“Hey, you copped out. I’m telling the story. Go back to drooling, nerd.

“So basically, the smart, heroic and determined koi tries to swim up the waterfall. This goes about as well as you’d think and he gets thrown back down a bunch of times. Over time, a bunch of idiot, nerdy and distractable demons gather and insult him a shit load of times. But here’s the thing, the gods were watching at the same time and were impressed by his heroic and determined behavior,” Here, Bakugou shot a glare at his friend, daring him to say a word to the contrary. Midoriya didn’t, merely shook and seemed to twist his hands, using the pain to keep from laughing. “So for his awesomeness, the gods rewarded the koi by turning him into a dragon.” 

He side-eyed Touya. “Didn’t you learn the story in school? I figured that all schools taught that one in kindergarten.”

No knowledge on this myth and until recently no knowledge about tengu. Touya had been homeschooled for years. Common nursery rhymes and stories had been off the menu and later, when he had been in school, he had thought literature like fairy tales and mythology had been kiddy stuff and thus a good time to catch up on the sleep that he missed at night. 

He supposed it made sense that the story was popular. It encouraged kids to be determined. 

Alternatively, it encouraged to idiotic kids to drown. Given the current circumstances, the idea was appealing.

“So, we figured it’d be worth talking to the guy,” continued Bakugou. “You going to do it now?”

Touya bared a sliver of white teeth and at the lack of answer, Bakugou glowered.

Heh. Touya had to give the kid one thing, those burning red eyes paired with the chihuahua mask were kind of adorable. Perhaps, this one only deserved to be half drowned, if only to preserve the entertainment value.

Well, funny or not, he had a point.

Touya had never used Monty as an informant. Sure, he and his did plenty of nasty stuff but it rarely involved kids, especially given modern times. So, he didn’t have a preplanned in and for some ‘strange’ reason, Monty didn’t like Dabi. Nonetheless, Touya liked to keep abreast of Destro nutters and Monty and the Musutafu branch of the Church of the Enchilada was one of them. 

As he approached, Touya noted he had only two of his followers with him, a woman in a glittering mask and the drooling man. The rest had gone off to vomit more propaganda on the patrons. 

Monty usually had easy more followers and following that logic, Touya found something that he could use. Approaching Monty, he gave him a formal bow. “Brother Monty, I seek your counsel.”

“This is Brother Waterfall,” the woman with the glittery mask chastised.

“So sorry. I have met some of your friends from your last unjust imprisonment and they said you went by ‘Monty’.”

“That was a poorly picked name by poor souls who lacked for knowledge,” Monty said smoothly. “When I ascended to the priesthood, I knew I could not simply represent my own divine gift but all of theirs.”

“Makes sense. Besides, ‘Monty’ is nowhere in your Quirk’s name. ‘Mommy’ would be much more precise.”

Monty’s body shook and the woman’s gaze slid to him. When the cult leader saw this, he stopped immediately. “My dear sister, I would like to minister our uninitiated brother in private, if you please.”

Her dark blue eyes continued to weigh her leader before sharply bowing and heading for a table, shepherding her male companion, the drooling man in the purple mask. The man went easily enough but the dark holes of his mask remained locked on Monty while he swayed from side to side.

Monty shoved a hefty amount of yen at the bartender and the sound of the outside world was again faded. “What do you want, Dabi?” he said in a voice to freeze steel.

Good thing that, frozen or not, Touya could melt it. “Maybe I want to check on how your arm is healing.” 

“ You are the one who broke it,” Monty said between tight lips. 

“Broke and burned,” Touya reminded him then shrugged. “We had a disagreement. We tested our gifts against each other and the Destro made his will known. I respect that. I know you do. Now, all I’m doing is checking on my honoured opponent.” 

Months ago, Monty had somehow got into his head that Dabi was a perfect recruit to his band of lackeys. Had stubbornly tried to convince Dabi of that fact and had gotten his ass kicked. In most cases, this would mean the entire cult would be out for his blood, but the Church of the Endosperm took the ‘might makes right’ belief to a greater extreme than most Destro fanboys and girls. Provided he didn’t violate their batshit insane beliefs, he could tapdance on Monty’s head and they’d only clap.

Touya gently patted Monty’s formerly broken (and burnt) arm. “Good to see you’ve healed up. So how is the flock?”

“Fine,” Monty snapped.

“They all ready for the new priest?”

“ What? ”

“Your replacement.”

“I’ve served for twenty years. I can serve for twenty more.”

“Oh? I guess what I heard was wrong though,” Touya mused aloud. “The recent downturn in your branch, the loss of members, etcetera… They have been sending in new blood to help, like the new treasurer lady. She’s the one in that exquisite glittery mask I just met, right? Setting the stage for a new priest of course. Though, I could have heard wrong.” Truth be told, Touya had heard nothing of the sort. He knew that Monty’s group had less members and the lady had come from another part of the cult, but he could work with that.

“The priesthood wouldn’t abandon me.”

“Abandon you?” Touya let out a theatrical gasp. “Perish the thought. They would want to honour you with a nice respectable retirement with a nice little stipend. I am sure that you can happily live on it...provided you don’t have any nasty debts to bite you in the ass.” This was a reasonable guess. Like it or not, Touya knew money and he would have bet his right hand that the stones making the scales on Monty’s dragon mask were real jewels. Someone was living outside his means. Someone was likely the bitch of half the loan sharks in the city.

“And you can use all that extra time to relax and have fun,” Touya continued. “I heard that some of your old ‘friends’ have been looking for you.” This was complete and utter bullshit, but people like Monty had a walk-in closet of skeletons. Such people might hesitate to touch a priest of the Church of the Encrusted. A normal member of the congregation? Not so much.

“My talents have proven invalua—”

“Have proven invaluable. ‘Have’ being the operative word. It’s not like finding recruits with powerful Quirks is as hard as it used to be. These days, pretty much anyone can go to a hero school then smooze up to the grumpy rejects.”

“I can also—”

“Go around smiting the ‘unholy’ and their ‘minions’. You said it yourself. There aren’t many of them around these days.” Touya sneered. “Though I suppose you could hang around old folks' homes. But smiting elderly people and their caretakers just doesn’t draw crowds. Or at least not the sort you want.”

Touya threw another few yen at the bartender. It wasn’t needed as they still had plenty of time before the sound barrier went down. What it did do was draw Monty’s attention to the nice thick money clip in his hand. “So ‘Brother Waterfall’, I find myself fascinated in your church and that of its brethren organizations. Could we talk about them and their recruiting practices?”

If Monty were a true believer, this wouldn’t have worked; however, to put it alla Mr. Compress, Monty might play the part of a dutiful cult member but he hadn’t drunk the Kool-Aid. If he truly believed, debt collectors and ‘old friends’ wouldn’t matter, he’d drown himself like a good little lemur rather than betray his cult or the other Destro organizations like the Questors or the Metahuman Liberation Army. Instead, his gaze was glued to the money clip. Money that could solve a whole lot of problems.

Bit by bit Touya had taken the confidence from the man. It was like pulling legs off an ant. Rip enough of them off and it would buckle. Then there on the ground, it would lie there helpless and at your mercy. Touya could hear Monty’s desperate trembling as he tried to stay above his fears. Could feel it coming to its final crescendo.

All at once it stopped.

Monty cocked his head as if listening to a distant melody, then he turned his head almost a complete 180 degrees so that he was looking back at Tensei and the teenagers. With that he stood and with long confident strides rejoined the female and drooling cult members.

“What the hell was that?” Bakugou asked when Touya returned to him and the others.

Good question. When Touya continued to think and didn’t answer, Tensei coughed. Right. Not answering could lead to panicky teenagers. Panicky teenagers might be not listen to orders and do dumb things—or even dumber in this case—that could get them hurt or worse.

“When touches someone, he takes the ‘temperature’ of their Quirk.” Touya tugged up one of Bakugou’s sleeves to reveal a long thin glowing mark that twisted and turned under his skin. “Then he can track them for about fifteen minutes or so. He probably noticed that someone here has a strong Quirk.” Yeah, that was probably it. Monty knew the kids were with him and wanted to piss him off. “He wants you to join him.”

“So, he’s going to follow Kacchan?” Midoriya asked.

Touya supposed that both or one of the boys could be the one. Even probably, U.A. wasn’t known for taking weaklings. Even his own crappy Quirk with all of its drawbacks was still powerful. He mentally reviewed Monty’s police file and shrugged. “Not likely. Monty’s probably touched over half the people here. All those Quirks to track... Hard to keep them all straight.” Sure, Monty would love to recruit anyone who was with him but he’d want to do it friendly like and not with Touya and Tensei nearby. He’d likely harass the kids another day. Or rather never as there was no ever going to do something this stupid again.

Bakugou ripped up Midoriya’s sleeves, revealing the same glowing mark on his left arm. The boys shared a look and Midoriya asked, “Would it be easier to track someone with a weak Quirk?”

Touya shook his head. There were plenty of people with weak Quirks at La Lune.

Bakugou grabbed Touya by the shoulders and forced him to face him. “ Listen to me, ” he hissed. “What about someone with an extremely weak Quirk?”

“Shit,” swore Tensei and Touya felt something click in his head.

Midoriya hadn’t even considered that Monty thought that he was the one with a strong Quirk. Midoriya was in the support department when everything about his behaviour screamed hero wannabe. Meanwhile, Monty was suspected of being involved in the murder of over thirty Quirkless people.

“We’re going,” Touya said, grabbing Midoriya and Bakugou by the arms and shoved them towards the door. He half-expected the boys to fight him, but instead they moved quickly and Bakugou opened and closed his hands, which started to let out sharp crackles and pops. 

Behind Touya and them, Tensei brought up the rear. “Monty has got one follower with him, and sent another off to get others,” he reported.

“It isn’t better to wait for more people to leave?” Midoriya asked.

Was he expecting the other patrons to help them? Stupid kid. Both of them, stupid, stupid kids. “More people, more problems. Move. ” Hell, some might join in for the fun of it.

There were no more questions. Soon they had headed out through the tunnel and the unseen earth-mover pushed them back into the alleys. Different location. Compress apparently had the earth-mover shifting the entrances and exits around, making it harder for the police to track his theatre. Smart but unfortunately for them, if the sound of the cars were anything to go by, they were further from the main road. 

Still, they were here first so...

There was a high pitched skittering sound and Touya turned to find Monty a dozen metres behind him. How had he gotten here so fast? Touya slid his gaze past the cult leader and saw another figure. It was the man with the purple dragon mask. Hunched, he trudged after Monty and once caught up, stopped and leaned his head against him, as if he were a dog, seeking comfort from its master.

Monty had thrown away his mask and pure gleeful exaltation radiated off when he saw Touya watching him. Not taking his poisonous green eyes off Touya, he gently wrapped his arms around the other cult member and cooed in his ear, “One of the unholy stands before us and its servants, the traitors, stand unenlightened and unashamed at its side.”

The purple masked man shuddered and pressed deeper into Monty’s arms.

“I am counting on you to protect our brethren from them. Take their unholy power. Purify it and add it to our own.” Monty pressed a gentle kiss to the man’s brow. “Go with my blessing, my disciple. My friend. My brother.”

Trembling all over, the man turned to face them. Then, his back arched painfully backward and he opened his mouth. 

Opened it and opened it and opened it. 

He continued this until over half his head was a black maw surrounded only broken when... things slid smoothly from its depth. At first, they resembled little knives and grew into skinny twisted swords. Finally, they were long silvery spider legs, razor-sharp and gleaming hungrily. All the while, the purple mask smiled contentedly as its owner unleashed a nightmare.

Touya had heard the rumours that this one had disappeared. Heard them and hoped that he had left town or, even better, been killed. No such luck.

Instead, Moonfish had found religion.

Chapter Text

The Blood We Share

Chapter 10

"I don't get it. Do you want to hurt?"

If Bakugou Katsuki were a different person, he might have admitted to being freaked out that a bunch of fucked-in-the-head Quirk-supremacists were gunning for his best friend. If Bakugou Katsuki were a different person, he might have admitted to being even more freaked out that Luminous, the Number Two’s kid, of all people had been too dense to realise that said best friend was in danger. If Bakugou Katsuki were a different person, he might have admitted to being nauseous when two of the supremacists followed them into an alley and one of them had what appeared to be a giant spider crawling out of his mouth. 

If you were anyone other than Izuko and maybe Aunty Inko, Bakugou Katsuki would never have admitted any of this. This fact included Katsuki himself.

So, when a nutcase cult member started puking out gigantic spider legs and said legs were raising him up off the ground, Bakugou told himself that everything was fine and he sure as hell didn’t have any doubts on that count. After all, Luminous was right there. He was a long range fighter and Spider Creep looked to be midrange. All Luminous had to do was give him one big blast and—

Why the hell hadn’t he blasted Spider Creep already?

Luminous was just standing there. Frozen.

“Dabi!” Izuko acted first, grabbing him and pulling down the alley. “Dabi!” 

Bakugou joined in. This caused Luminous to get his act together and a millisecond later, he was the one urging them for speed rather than the other way around. Ingenium fished through his feathers and pulled what looked to two makeup compacts, handing one to Luminous. When he passed two more to Izuko and Katsuki, he ordered, “Only use them if you need to. Focus on running." He flipped his open. Katsuki hadn’t been far off. It lacked makeup but did have mirrors and the Engine Hero used it to look behind them.

There was Spider Creep with Monty clinging to his back like a leech. They weren’t moving fast. Not yet at least. Katsuki could hear Izuko beside him. “Polypod. Tendency towards exponential growth prior to final high speed.” Basically, more legs meant that one started out slow but eventually got damn fast.

“Slow acceleration but faster over longer distances,” Katsuki translated between puffs.

“Roadie, that accurate?” Luminous asked Ingenium.

“Yes,” Ingenium replied. He slowed for a few steps so he was once again bringing up the rear.

With another hero at their back Luminous willingly released the boys and began to scan the area ahead.

Katsuki and Izuku had only just adjusted to this when the Spider Creep’s skittering steps stopped and Luminous shouted, “Fast now!”

Katsuki accelerated. Though he didn’t know why? Spider Creep had stopped hadn’t he?

A glance in Luminous’ mirror buried his doubts. There was the spider villain swooping down towards them. With his pitch blak robes flying around him and his tooth-legs eagerly outstretched, he looked ready and able to drag them into the void that was his belly. His figure grew until it consumed the mirror, all darkness except for the form of Ingenium looking tiny in comparison. 

He descended on the hero but Ingenium doubled his speed, easily dodging and in a flash, he was nearly running on Katsuki and Izuku’s heels. It was clear, even without his Quirk, Ingenium was terrifyingly fast.

“It can jump,” Luminous observed grimly.

They ran past an old office building that looked perfectly normal except for the fact that its upper levels were sheared off. Luminous took them on a hard right. Katsuki threw out his left hand and began to let out a series of pops to make the turn easier, but Ingenium clamped his own hand down on his.

“What. The. Hell?” Katsuki growled between breaths.

“No, ” Ingenium said. “No Quirks.”

Another left. Two rights.

Izuku was right. Polypods were shit at short sprints. All the turns that they were taking were slowing Spider Creep down, the skittering footsteps softening, slowing. Problem was the asshole earth-mover had dropped them in the ruins of the old business districts that sat behind a bunch of the new buildings. A historical site, the area had been destroyed then rebuilt multiple times during the Dawn of Quirks. This meant a lot of buildings with holes or missing levels. This meant opposed to them gaining a big advantage, it became a small one because Spider Creep would go through the holes or even jump over and through some of the ruined buildings, losing less speed than he would have otherwise.

But still, it was still a small advantage and bit by bit they gained distance. Soon, they could see the whole office buildings rearing up over their dilapidated ancestors. Could see the bright lights of the main road traffic between two of them and they sped up.

Of course, that’s when they go fucked. Turned out those weren’t the lights of traffic ahead. Turned out it was a damn loading dock with bright lights. Turned out the damn loading dock was a dead end. This left them at the end of a nice straightaway for Spider Creep to chase them down. 

They couldn’t see him yet, but the faint scuttling was just barely audible and steadily growing in loudness and tempo.

Luminous threw himself at a fire exit for one of the buildings. A blue spark sizzled from one finger but it sizzled and died as he gasped in pain. Automatically, Izuku took over, pulling lockpicks from his belt and tackling the lock. As he worked, he asked, “So Waterfall’s tracking Quirk, is it 2D or 3D?”

“Don’t know,” Luminous replied. His voice was still tight with pain but thoughtfulness managed to pierce it. “So, we stay in the building. Make Monty guess our floor.”

The scuttling had stopped, replaced by a rhythmic rasping. Katsuki looked left and right trying to detect the source. Behind them there was a clear path, a few dumpsters and a series of fire escapes.  

The lock clicked and the door opened and the rasping sound grew louder. The light of the stairs after the dark alley caused spots to form in Katsuki’s vision. When Ingenium bodily shoved them all inside, it took precious seconds to see where the spider villain was. The beast had been climbing along the wall and using the fire escapes to break up his form.

Ingenium and Luminous pulled the heavy door shut but while Ingenium urged the boys upward, Luminous stayed in place. He kicked off his shoes and, bracing his arms on opposite walls, kicked his feet up onto the door. They flickered and blue flame spouted from them which grew in potency until Katsuki had to look away lest they sear his eyes. When the fire stopped, the parts of the door he had touched had melted into its frame. 

Luminous had stopped just in time because one of the monster’s tooth-legs slid through the crack between the door and floor, nearly impaling his thigh.  A second from the top sought his head. 

Luminous somersaulted backwards, picking up his shoes as he went. Only then did he  notice the audience. “Go!” he ordered. This won’t hold Moonfish.” 

They ran up the stairs. By the fourth floor, Katsuki’s chest and legs began to ache. By the tenth, they were screaming it. He could hear a slight rasp to Luminous’ breath, Izuku was panting but it was controlled and Ingenium was showing no sign of fatigue. The reality that his Quirk training was taking time and energy from his purely physical training dug at Katsuki. The others were slowing down for him.

Fuck that. He refused to be the weak link, and gritting his teeth, Katsuki pushed out more speed.

This turned out not to be enough because ten seconds later, Ingenium picked him up and slung him over a shoulder. He swore and protested the treatment, but subsided a bit when Ingenium did it to Izuku too. At least they’d look like idiots together.

They finally stopped at the twelfth floor where Luminous had Izuku unlock the door. 

The void eyes of Luminous’ skull mask swept over the revealed office space before landing on an exit sign for the other fire stairs. “You have more of those bugs?” he asked.

Izuku quickly pulled a couple bugs and a radiot to Luminous. “Just plant a bug at each fire door. Elevators too,” he told the teens.

They did so. It made sense to Katsuki. If their enemy came up one way, they’d go a different way. What didn’t make sense was… “Why the hell didn’t you just flame broil Spider Creep in the alley back there?” he said to Luminous.

The hero was busy treating the radio as if it were radioactive or something. He held away from his body and his muscles looked like they might peel off to get further away. Eventually, he all but threw it at Ingenium. “Luminous has a full-fledged fire Quirk,” he explained, “ Dabi can heat things by touch. I don’t need people making the link between them.” 

Katsuki's first thought was Quirk laws be damned. But the firmness in the hero’s tone cut through this to make sense. Suddenly, this plus Ingenium stopping him using his own Quirk earlier made a lot more sense. 

Katsuki wasn’t Izuku but you could only listen to him ramble for so long before you took some of it in. Fire wasn’t rare. But specifically blue fire? There was a reason people gaped at Endeavor’s Prominence Burn. And back at the condos, Luminous had thrown blue flames around like they were going out of style. 

Too hot. Too distinct. And when it came his own Quirk, Katsuki had never met anyone else with Explosion.

One look at a Quirk registry later and Monty could track Izuku down through Katsuki. The same for Luminous. He hadn’t been just risking his life to come after them. He had been risking his identity as Dabi.

Izuku made the connection too. “Uh, sorry,” he said, rubbing nervously at the back of his neck. “We weren’t thinking.”

“No, you weren’t, ” Luminous said flatly. He focused on Ingenium. “Hear anything?”

“Nothing so far. How much time is left?”

Luminous checked Izuku’s tracking mark. It had shrunk a bit, as if someone had clipped the top off it, and the colour had turned a sickly vomit green. “Maybe another ten minutes.”

There was a loud thud of something heavy coming the other side of the office. Luminous’ eyes threw an inquiring look at Ingenium who shook his head. “It didn’t come from the stairs or at the elevators.” This did nothing to belay the tension and so Luminous eased towards the sound source. 

It was a relief when they spotted a single cubicle with it’s light on. Its owner was standing next to it and precariously juggling two metal file folder organizers, filled to the brim. At the sight of four masked figures he screamed, “Villains!” and tore across the office towards the elevators, where he smashed frantically at the call button. 

This caused the organizers to drop to the ground with two thuds. Neither of them was nearly loud enough to have been the previous one.

It was then that Katsuki noticed a spot on the ground by Luminous that seemed distorted. A second look showed that the distortion was a large circle of plexiglass. The size was perfect to fill the hole in the window just behind the fire emitter.

The ceiling tiles above Luminous rippled up and down as if they were breathing. One shifted and two silverly points edged out from behind them. 

Katsuki shouted as they shot downward, eagerly seeking Luminous’ heart blood. 

The tooth-legs missed as the hero dove under a lunch table and emerged out the other side to dodge more strikes.

There was a strategy to Luminous’ move. He wasn’t bothering trying to counter attack. Instead, he danced lightly away in a way that resembled a less graceful Aizawa, staying just close enough to Moonfish to keep interest on him and away from them. All the while, he was luring Moonfish away from the relatively open-floor plan of the kitchen to the cubicles where the monster’s reach advantage would decrease.

“We’re leaving,” Ingenium declared, pulling them onto their feet.

“But he needs our help,” Izuku protested, pointing at Luminous.

“He would kill all three of us if we stayed,” Ingenium declared as he herded them towards a fire exit. He did pause before heading to the stairs, waiting until Moonfish was facing away and using his fingers to flash twenty-five at Luminous three times.

Once more they raced up the stairs but instead of the expected twenty-fifth floor, Ingenium stopped them on the nineteenth. 

“But why?” Izuku asked.

“Bakugou’s getting off on this floor,” Ingenium declared.

“Spider Creep is after all of us,” Katsuki said.

“Moonfish is after Midoriya. Us ‘traitors’ are in the way” Ingenium explained. “Stay on this floor and hide.”

To hell with that! “I am not leaving him to that piece of shit!”

“It’s safer.”

“Fuck. No.”

“Kacchan…” Izuku began.

“No, you do not pull that noble shit on me,” Katsuki growled. “We’re in this together. You promised that. I promised that.”

“We do not have time to deal with this,” Ingenium groaned but didn’t argue further.

After the frantic run and Moonfish’s attack, the twenty-fifth floor seemed eerily quiet. This did not mean Ingenium relaxed. Instead, signalling them to stay low and behind cover, they all edged towards the same side of the building that Moonfish had entered through before and peered out.

“So that’s where he got to,” Ingenium said.

Three storeys down on the adjacent building was another hole. Standing at it was Monty. The cult leader had redonned his mask, but even hidden behind its rich decor and even with the distance, there was no disguising the rage that consumed him. His sleeves had been pulled back and every muscle of his arms bulged dangerously. Even through the plexiglass, Katsuki could even hear his screams as demanded his beast’s presence.

As they watched, Moonfish clambered onto the outside of their building, his teeth-legs easily slicing into the plexiglass windows to stop from falling. He bunched his legs under him and easily jumped the gap towards his master. Once Moonfish reached him, Monty barked orders and pointed upwards.

“So he can track things in 3D,” Izuku breathed, sounding genuinely impressed. 

Ingenium stared at the teenager and Katsuki slapped Izuku upside the head.

“Ow! I never said that was a good thing.”

Ingenium laid out the basic plan as they headed back to the fire door. What they wanted was for Moonfish to have to chase them up and down the tower, wasting the tracker’s time rather than fighting him directly.

A long limb slid up the outside of the window and then another and another and another. The movements were utterly silent and in the moonlight, their metallic surfaces gave off a glow. For a moment, their horror turned into ethereal beauty. 

The moment passed as Moonfish smashed his tooth-legs into the window.

Moonfish did not go for subtlety in this entrance. His limbs tore violently into the window, sending shards of  thick plexiglass in all directions so that before Katsuki and the others could enter the staircase, they had to take cover under desks until the barrage passed.

During this, in a show of exceptionally bad timing, Luminous sprang out the door only to have a large piece of plexiglass slam into his chest.

There was no blood as the piece had hit him with its broadside. Luminous was even still on his feet, swaying back and forth, and Katsuki grudgingly had to give him credit. Endeavor’s son wasn’t going to be in the Top Ten anytime soon, but he still was a tough bastard. 

Then Todoroki Touya swayed back once more. Stayed there. Then collapsed.

Well, shit.

Moonfish hung in the jagged mess of the window. Little rivulets of saliva dripped down his tooth-legs, making them glint wetly. He stayed there, utterly still, his bizarre dinosaur mask giving no sign of what he was thinking.

Luminous moaned, shifting the plexiglass shard off his body. As it clattered on the ground beside him, Moonfish’s stillness shattered. He scuttled across the floor towards Luminous, a gigantic spider bearing down on a helpless fly. As the skittering of his movements became a fever-pitch, a grinding sound permeated the air, rough at first but soon it became a hum.

Ingenium had braced himself between a heavy wooden desk and the wall and had raised his right arm. The hum was coming from the engine there and while Moonfish ran toward Luminous, it grew in pitch and strength, challenging Moonfish’s charge.

The muffler was completely bare and Katsuki wondered why until one of the feather’s of Luminous’ costume was sucked in. It was too loud to hear anything else, but he swore that Izuku’s voice was in his ear saying, “He’s firing his engine backwards."

Ingenium aimed his muffler at Moonfish. Then his engine, roaring like a lion, sucked the villain through the air. Just before he hit, Ingenium aimed carefully, cut the engine and slammed the very sturdy, very metallic muffler into the side of Moonfish’s head.

Despite this, the bastard managed to get away before Ingenium could hit him again, but it was pitifully slow compared to his earlier motions and he was now swaying like Luminous had been. Unlike the hero, he had way more limbs to keep up right with.

Luminous, for his part, didn’t appreciate the advantage. With painful steps, he reached Moonfish and slammed the palms of each hand onto the flat sides of two teeth and he pumped heat into them. Soon enough, the teeth reddened and the monster’s mouth began to reek of burnt flesh. The teeth simply fell out and without them, Moonfish fell backwards and onto the floor, little whimpering sounds escaping him.

That was the end of it. Or rather that should have been the end of it. 

No sooner did Moonfish finish falling, then a whirlwind of death replaced him. Luminous barely moved in time and as it was, he left the entire back of his jacket in his wake. 

His face still towards the ceiling, four of Moonfish’s tooth-legs crabwalked him towards the heroes while the others rapidly sliced the air in all directions. Flicks of blood began to fly and Katsuki realised that Spider Creep wasn’t bothering with elegance or skill or even aim. The fucker was cutting himself multiple times and he just didn’t care. He just wanted to kill. 

“Stairs!” Ingenium shouted at them.

It was probably the smart thing to do. Let the heroes do the noble sacrifice and scamper off to safety. Smart? Yes. Heroic? 

Katsuki didn’t even need to ask Izuku whether they should run or stay. About this sort of thing, they were always in accord. “So,” he said to him, “that Brother Whatever? You think Spider Creep likes him?”

“Well, he does take orders from him.” Izuku tilted his head consideringly at the maw that Moonfish had left in the window, no doubt calculating the distance between them and the other building and the height of the buildings’ storeys. “Do you want to do it or should I?”

Katsuki shrugged. “The shit-head wants to kill all Quirkless people. It’s personal for you.”

“Thanks!” Even behind that ridiculous rabbit mask, Katsuki could feel Izuku beaming at him.

The smaller teenager opened up a few pouches on his belt. He pulled out a long thin length of rope. Made from Sero’s tape, the stuff was ridiculously light and strong. Izuku wrapped it around his waist and using a special pair of gloves added one of Mineta’s balls to a normal tape section at one end for extra stickiness and to give him something to throw.

From across the room, having just dodged a flurry of blows, Luminous spotted Izuku lowering himself into a sprinter’s start lined up with the broken window. “What are you—?”

Izuku ran, rapidly gaining speed, his feet becoming a thunder against the floor. About five metres before he reached the window, he threw the ball and it and the rope attached soared flawlessly through the air to hit the side of the other building. There, it stuck, causing Izuku to grin as he sprung off a desk, through the window and into the void.

“NO! ” screamed Luminous, charging towards the window. Katsuki had to tackle him to stop him from jumping out the window with not even a rope to stop him from kissing the pavement. 

“He’s got this,” Katsuki told him.

Izuku was no longer falling, his rope had gone taut and now, he was swinging towards the opposite building. He landed feet first against the building, bending his knees to take the blow easier then pushing off, loosening the rope and easily rappelling down towards the hole where Monty stood. 

The cult piece of shit wasn’t even looking up. Probably thought that the scream was due to his pet monster killing them. Probably all smug. 

That made it all the better when Izuku’s feet smashed into his smug face and onto his smug ass.

While he unwinded it from his waist, Izuku held onto the rope.

Monty managed to get back up but Izuku was unworried. Sure enough, Izuku threaded the rope between Monty’s legs, pulled and caused him to careen to one side. The larger man managed to catch himself against a wall and swung one weighty fist, but Izuku wasn’t done yet. He continued to work the rope, wrapping it around Monty’s other arm. 

Once. Twice. Thrice. 

When the fist was nearly at Izuku’s head, Monty threw his weight into it, only for the rope to tighten. Ligament and sinew audibly snapped as the cult leader’s arm was viciously pulled out his socket and he let out a cry of pure agony.

At this, the sounds of Moonfish’s whirlwind slowed then stopped, replaced by a timid “Bro...ther?”

Moonfish slowly approached the window. His body was upright once again and for the first time all night, he actually seemed to be looking at something for the first time or rather someone. He raised one arm, practically skeletal from disuse, and strained to touch his leader, unaware of the distance between them. “Hurt?” His posture became sad and small, like that of a small child realising for the first time that his father was not invincible. 

Many a heartbeat passed before Moonfish even seemed to notice Izuku had pinned the cult leader, but when he did, he seemed even more child-like as his voice took on a quivering sing-song. “Please no. Don’t hurt. Brother good. Holy. Makes the hunger go away. Don’t hurt. Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease.”

Most would have shuddered at the sight of Moonfish but Izuku managed to rally himself to confidently say. “I won’t hurt him if you don’t hurt us and leave.”

Katsuki wasn’t sure if Spider Creep could understand that, but the abomination proved not to be completely nuts. “No. Not holy, unholy. Lies. LIES. EVERYONE ALWAYS LIES. Except him.”

Izuku stayed firm. “I will not hurt him.” 

“Will hurt? Pleasedonthurt. Truth?”

Izuku continued in a softer voice like he was talking to a scared animal. “I won’t. I promise you.”

Moonfish pulled his arms in tightly, hugging himself. “Don’t hurt. Only one. No one else. Don’t hurt. Please. ” Then, he slowly crawled out the window and down the building.When he reached the ground, he cast a forlorn look at his master.

Then, he went down an alley and was out of sight.

Mercifully, there was no sign of Moonfish nor any of Monty’s other minions when Bakugou and Touya crossed over from their building to the other one using the alley.

Meanwhile, Tensei proved to be a freaking show-off when he jumped between the buildings without using his Quirk. “I would have used it if I misjudged,” he protested when Touya side-eyed him.

Ugh, Touya was dearly tempted to remove his mask to rub his temples. He had enough problems with idiot children. He didn’t need an idiot adult on top of things.

Off to the side, Bakugou looked like he was considering kicking the bound Monty. The cult leader trussed up in Midoriya’s rope on the other side of the floor to decrease the chance of him seeing or hearing things he shouldn’t. For good measure, they had added a blindfold and a pair of noise-isolating headphones that they had raided from a desk.

”Don’t thank us all at once,” Bakugou groused.

Touya stared him down or rather tried to. The little twit wasn’t so little, only a scant few centimetres smaller than himself. Add to that Bakugou had stuck his chin so high up it was liable to smash into Touya’s nose.

Kids these days. All hooked on growth hormones and no respect for their elders.

For his part, Midoriya was looking hopefully at Tensei. “We didn’t mean for things to get…” He petered out under Tensei’s icy gaze.

“Do not expect forgiveness from us,” Tensei stated. “You endangered yourselves. Both of us are still recovering from the last rescue. If things had got much worse, Luminous would have had to break out the fire and with his injuries, it could have crippled him. Nevermind, the damage to his work. Just be glad you’re not my brother beause if Tenya even thought about doing something this stupid, I’d make what we just went through look like a walk in the park.”

The kids balked, or rather Midoriya balked and Bakugou presented his back and crossed his arms, which Touya supposed was functionally the same. Either way, they were more or less subdued. 

Some things weren’t fair. If you knew him, then you knew that Tensei was a marshmallow on the inside but damn, with over six feet of muscle, he could loom like a pro. 

Touya couldn’t use that method to intimidate. Height was arguably the only thing he wished that he had inherited from the Old Man. So of the course, the bastard gave them all to Natsuo.

“Can you handle them from here?” Touya asked Tensei. “I’m going to burn up any remaining toys of the kids and then”—he examined Monty—“I have other business to conduct.”

Tensei nodded. 

As they left, Touya kept his eyes fixed on the boys. He even stayed at the window, until he saw them walk out and into the blinding glare of the police 

Touya breathed in. They were whole. They were alive. They are safe. It was only this stifled the wildfire that threatened to consume him when he looked at Monty.

The kids were alive, whole and gone. 

Touya breathed out.

Finally, they were all gone. 

He was alone. No siblings fussing over him. No idiot children to chase after or be a ‘good example’ for. Not even allies who thought because he saved a few kids, he was some sort of saint. Three layers suffocating his true self. Now all removed.

Dabi could finally breathe. 

He pulled his socks and shoes off and strolled along, enjoying the cool tile beneath his toes. Then he kicked Monty, causing the older man to sprawl forward onto his stomach. Dabi pressed foot down onto Monty’s back, and concentrated on the skin that was touching the rope. There, Dabi’s skin heated and through it, the rope.

Officially, Dabi couldn’t directly create fire, but raise the temperature of an object enough? Well…

The rope burst into flames.

...it was about the same.

Screaming, Monty rolled on the ground to suffocate the new addition to his outfit. Once done, he inched his way into a sitting position, the remains of the rope smouldering beside him as he pulled the blindfold and headphones from his head, moaning

“You’re untied,” Dabi commented. “Don’t whinge about it.”

“Why?

“It occured to me that we never finished our earlier conversation.”

“And I cooperate or you’ll what torture me? Kill me?” Monty glared at him but Dabi just laughed it off. Monty was no gigantic mad dog or spider craving human flesh. 

He had a thousand ways he could dispose of this miniscule creature. Burn his head off. It was self-defense. Toss him out the window. Dear Brother Thermometer killed himself rather than betraying his cult. Turn him to ash. Oh dear, he ran away. 

You tried to kill kids, you bastard. You walking abortion of a human being! Practically begging to be burnt from the inside out. 

“Nah,” Dabi said.

“So, you’ll let me go?”

The pyromaniac laughed again. “Can’t do ‘just’ that. I’ve got a rep to maintain and you decided to mess with me. Even worse, you had your loon try to attack people I was hired to keep an eye on. Not unless I get something in trade. You understand that, don’t you, Chikari Ryoshi?” Monty shivered at the sound of his real name. “As for the whole ‘kill’ business...your cult buddies would do it for me.”

“They wouldn’t!”

“You honestly think that…? Heh... Even though you’re in freaking murder cult? Even when news of you, one of the Church of the En-Idioted’s ‘ministers’, getting his ass kicked by a little Quirkless boy spreads far and wide. ‘Unholy’ ones are supposed to manipulate Quirked types, not beat them one-on-one. Such a thing would look bad to your bosses.”

“You can’t prove—”

“Businesses these days.” Dabi ran a loving hand over a nearby computer. “So paranoid, what with the cameras practically everywhere.”

A feral grin spread across Dabi’s face. He could feel it coming. Could see Monty’s face shuddering, falling and…

“What do you want?”

Yes, there it was. The last leg of the ant had been ripped off and now it was wiggling desperately on the ground like the worm it truly was. “Let’s start with you telling me about the Destro nutters’ latest recruiting practices and we’ll go from there.”

Monty told him. Talked and talked, and by the time that he stopped, his voice had turned high and hoarse like a canary choking on coal dust. 

“Thank you,” Dabi said. “I really am grateful. Shame that I won’t be seeing you again. What with you having to run like hell and all.” 

“But you said… T-t-told you… Did what… Promised...” This time Dabi didn’t have to interrupt. Monty sputtered and spluttered and made enough disjointed sentences to make Moonfish jealous before lapsing into stunned silence.

You dug your own hole. I wish I could be the one to throw you in and watch until you died of hunger and thirst. I wish I could be there as you rot alongside the corpses of all the people you murdered. 

“I didn’t promise you shit . ” Dabi said. His voice lowered into a purr. “Besides, I have a rep to maintain. ”

After they had changed out of their disguises, Ingenium took them from the building and towards the street where the police cars were. It was humiliating having the hero shepherd them around like a pair of errant sheep, but the one time Izuku had looked longingly at an alley, Ingenium had clamped a hand on Izuku and Katsuki’s shoulders and refused to let go.

It was even more humiliating when they reached the police cars and found Aizawa of all people with them. 

Fuck. Katsuki had hoped that they could have gone through a single semester without their teachers treating them like they were suicidal toddlers.

Aizawa looked at the boys, resolved rather than surprised at their presence, and shook his head. “Not even three days,” he muttered. “We will talk about this at school.”

“Touya said you were in Hosu, hunting the Hero Killer,” said Ingenium.

It was then that Katsuki heard something gentle and rhythmic. Near them was a steady drip. Though there was something wrong with it. In the darkness, he couldn’t figure it out immediately but the sound when each drop hit the ground was wrong. Too low. Too gelatinous. Then the scent of copper reached his nose and Katsuki looked upward.

Ingenium shoved him and Izuko behind him but Katsuki still managed to get a good look. Ten feet up was a fire escape and lying on it was Native with thick blood oozing from his throat.

Upon his forehead was the word ‘FAKE’ in jagged letters.

“Yes, I was,” said Aizawa wearily. “Yes, I am.”