Chapter Text
Everything smelled of smoke.
Nagito stuffed his hands deep within the pockets of his abused green jacket wishing he had brought something heavier to wear. The light snow had turned to slush beneath him, melted by the nearby structure fire and the many boots running through it. Footprints would be impossible. The cold and wet had seeped through both his shoes and his socks making his toes uncomfortable.
The blackened shell that was once a respectable laboratory continued to smolder, the heat of it brushing against Nagito's exposed skin as he avoided the first responders going about their duties at an exhausted pace. It had burned through most of the night and preliminary reports said casualties were high.
A placard several paces from the front entrance remained with HPA Laboratories inscribed in bold print. He decided he rather liked the unintentional symbolism of a sign promising to make the future a better place in front of doors where the glass had blown outwards and littered the pavement. If Mahiru were with them he would ask for a picture of it. His sad attempts at memorializing it with his phone would not be the same he already knew.
"I've finished speaking with the chiefs." Sonia's hair was a wreck. She had attempted to twist it together, but it was plagued with flyaways. One oversized sleeve dragged over her face to stifle a yawn. The long dark coat she was tucked inside was a few sizes too large and she pulled it closer around herself. "Everyone is tired. I do not think I can rally them any longer." Or keep herself going, he mused.
"Luckily it's out," Nagito said dryly.
"Yes, so it would seem." They stood side by side watching the proceedings in silence. Equipment was packed up, several vehicles left. The crowd of onlookers began to disperse. His toes reminded him that they were growing numb and he stomped his feet to placate them.
Gundham staggered toward them not long after, soot streaking his bare arms and face and his summoned chaos energy dispersing in his wake, a dark cloud interspersed with sparks of purple. Ever dramatic, Nagito was still a little surprised to see him without the usual heavy makeup. He wrapped an arm around Sonia's shoulders and nodded at Nagito. "The source of the fire still mystifies those gathered. It is believed to have begun in several locations in the testing facilities, but the truly dangerous spark ignited fuel tanks being stored in the basement."
Sonia shook her head. “Are they thinking arson?”
Nagito knew the answer to that question without having to catch Gundham’s solemn nod. They continued to speak, numbers of people who may have still been inside when it exploded, what sort of testing the facility did, pausing to watch in silence as a charred corpse was removed in a dark plastic bag. He shuffled a few steps away, not particularly caring if it looked natural or not. Neither one commented, though they had known each other long enough to not be surprised by the action.
He simply didn’t belong beside them. Not their abilities or their cutesy relationship status, both of which made him feel like an awkward third wheel and hindrance.
After what felt like an eternity since he had first received the call the night before, Nagito was finally allowed to do his own investigating. Gundham had a keen eye, but he was forever distracted by the pretty blonde at his side and the way Sonia would occasionally pause to smile at him meant that, while together, they were only useful if something could keep their focus. Both had useful powers, Gundham with his chaos magic had assisted the rescuers' efforts in quelling the flames and Sonia’s words empowering them to push past normal human limits.
He, on the other hand, was just lucky.
Sometimes.
At times, Nagito was still unsure what had made Makoto Naegi, his idol, decide he was worthy enough to begin this branch of his precious Detective’s Guild. And with it there was always that creeping thought that someday Naegi would learn to not have trusted his initial instinct when it came to someone like him.
So he made up for his lack of powerful use in other ways, beginning with determining what could have caused HPA labs to go up in smoke in the first place. He knelt next to an ignition source, remnants of the floor and walls were especially charred. But what had started the flame? He dragged a finger through ash and held it under his nose. Frowning, he moved to another spot and knelt close, the knees of his pants catching the soot.
Nagito was holding his chin, deep in thought when someone coughing directly behind him dragged him back out of his musings. Clenching his hands into fists, he dug false cheer out of some reserve he kept for moments such as this to force a smile onto his face, but one look over his shoulder caused it to wilt. “Why are you coughing on me?”
“I wasn’t…” Another fit of coughs and Nagito rolled his eyes before standing and facing down the latest in data technicians for the 77th division of the Detective Guild. This model was especially forgettable. Short dark hair, large glasses, a name that started with M or possibly an S? As Nagito crossed his arms and fixed a flat look at the underling, the man took several hasty steps backwards.
“You’re late.”
“I slept through the call,” the tech pleaded, grasping his case in both hands. “I didn’t realize my phone was on silent. Or that I would be receiving calls at midnight at this job!”
“So many excuses…” He shook his head, receiving sickening pleasure at seeing the man whimper. “Now that you are here, what have you learned?”
“Uh…” he looked around, gulped, and said, “the building burned down?”
Nagito laughed. “Astounding.”
Sweating, the tech tried. “It was arson...?”
“Do you know that or are you guessing?”
“G-guessing…”
“Guessing isn’t what we do here. We are an agency that solves crimes. If we guessed then we would never get to the bottom of anything. Take a look at this.” Nagito waved a hand at the scorch marks around him that he had been studying before he had been so rudely interrupted. “What do you make of these?”
Setting down his tool kit and pushing his glasses further up his nose, the technician knelt closer. “This was an ignition source. Something very hot burned right here.”
“Better, but what are you missing?” He gave the tech half a minute to tremble and try to come up with something. “What started the fire? There’s no fuel, nothing that looks like it might have caught a spark.”
“So you’re thinking a powered individual started the fire?”
“Yes, nice of you catch up, temp.”
“Um, my name is-”
“Also,” Nagito continued, pacing a bit around the space, “there were several ignition points all of which were started near simultaneously. This ability must be something that can generate fireballs. A pyrokinetic user, I think…”
He paused, looking up to see the tech staring at him. “What are you doing?”
“What do you want me to do, sir?”
“Your job. Collect evidence. Take some samples to prove I’m right about the ignition source. Anything that looks interesting.” A small noise caught his attention and he stomped on a shred of paper that skittered across what remained of the tiled floor by the wind and picked it up. “I’m sure this could be useful,” he said as he held it out. Just as the man was about to take it from him he released it, letting the breeze push it further away from them. “Go fetch.”
With a pleading glance, the temp ran past him after the evidence, skidding on the messy floor as he narrowly missed snatching it before it was carried away.
“You shouldn’t be so cruel to him,” Sonia chided, quietly approaching once he was alone. By then the poor man had chased the slip of paper half way down the hall and collided with several other people moving about the ruins. “I happen to like Murano.”
“Is that his name?” Nagito walked away on his own investigative search, not that Sonia seemed to take the hint that he wished to be alone and fell into step behind him. “They couldn’t find anyone with a more forgettable name?”
They entered what he assumed was once a work room, but now it was only a cluster of furniture beyond repair and equipment that would be costly to replace. Gundham was already here, his brow furrowed as he picked through a collection of items looking for anything recognizable. Briefly he eyed them as they entered before dismissively returning to his task and holding up something composed of soot stained glass.
Nagito immediately headed for a row of tables and began blindly pulling out drawers. Luck tended to guide him to finding clues when he wasn’t actively looking and so the case could be made that attempting to make enough noise to tune out Sonia’s voice rather than actively search would be enough for his more passive ability to kick in. It would at least save him the physical pains of forcing probability against the fate’s design. Unfortunately, his true motives did not seem to be enough as she merely raised her voice over the crashing and clunking he made. He could only assume that it was either a part of her vocal ability he was unaware of, or perhaps some sort of training royalty received. How to be heard even when others do not wish to listen...
“Yes, he has been working with us for a month and you have not once learned his name? He is rather sweet and intelligent. Did you know that he was considered for a government role out of university?” She smiled, one of her usual friendly and endearing ones that had won over a few hardened hearts over the years. “He also has a pet cat named Mittens. He shows me pictures sometimes.”
“He has a cat.” He had run out of drawers, however there seemed to be a box of something that Nagito suspected also could make a fair amount of noise sitting on another table. “The only way he could be any more boring would be if he had a hamster instead.”
Nagito landed face first on the floor with a grunt. A dark tendril innocently slithered away from his ankle, recoiling to Gundham who continued to rifle through his pile of debris as though he had not been paying attention to their conversation.
“Gundham, please. You are not helping.”
His head inclined in a soft bow, one hand pressed flat against his chest. “Apologies, dark queen. I was overcome at the mention of another’s minion that I acted without thought.” A light smirk still twisted his lips as he turned away.
“Ah, are you all right?” Sonia offered Nagito a hand which he refused to take. Now he was wet and sore on top of dirty.
“I’m fine…” He rotated his head, resting his other cheek on the floor a moment so as not to look at her pitying face. From this new angle he could make out something wedged beneath his ransacked table. It came free with a sharp tug and as he brought it into the light he could make out the face printed on plastic laminate. A badge it seemed had somehow escaped the worst of the fire and Nagito sat up and began turning it over in his hands, scrutinizing the name and image. Mugan, assistant. Looked to be a fairly bland individual in his opinion, from the generic haircut to blank expression.
“What is it?” Sonia asked, leaning over his shoulder, careful to not let the tail ends of the coat brush the floor.
“Perhaps a clue,” Nagito replied, wondering if it really was. He would have to investigate who this Mugen individual was and if he knew anything about what had transpired here.
“If it is of interest to you, I may have also discovered something of use.” Gundham pulled a panel from one of the machines and brought it over, wiping away the large sticker that adorned the side clear with a fist. “Many of these devices bear the same emblem.” He tapped a long finger over it, a sphere emblazoned with two F’s. “I am not aware of who this company is, but perhaps they are the patrons of this establishment.”
Nagito forgave Gundham despite several points on his body still throbbing dully. He took the panel from his hands and pursed his lips as he brought it closer to his face. “Has anyone heard what they were studying in this lab?”
“It is unclear, but I will say this." Gundham glanced around them, eyeying the corners and the door before huddling closer. “Never in all my years of entering these domains have I encountered one such as this.”
Nagito opened his mouth, then paused as he too looked about them. “I believe you had a type you frequented. Perhaps this is not that type?” He looked back at the sticker and all the meanings that FF could potentially have.
Gundham scowled. “You doubt me? I shall have you know that experience has taught me that a facility, such as this one, was performing experiments on subjects. But those subjects are no longer here.”
Sonia stroked his arm. “I think it is late and we could all use a break and some rest. How about you?” She fixed Nagito with an expectant look.
“Don’t worry about me,” Nagito said lightly. “You two put in more work than I did earlier, so I’ll stay and get as much as I can done on this investigation as I can.”
“If you’re sure…” Sonia watched him a moment longer, but Nagito was not going to change his mind. With a sigh, she grasped Gundham’s hand firmly and pulled him towards the door. “Then we will go and return in a few hours.”
“Take your time,” he said. It wasn’t until their footsteps faded that he was finally able to fully relax. He held up the panel once more, then set it aside to see what else he could discover.
^^^
“Dead?”
“So it would seem…” Their AI system, affectionately called Chiaki by the entire division, yawned despite not needing rest. Nagito had to hand it to whomever designed her program and the cute image which gazed steadily out of a screen at him that it all made her incredibly likeable. He imagined if she were a real person then perhaps she would be nice to spend time with.
He looked back down at the badge belonging to the assistant, Mugan, once more. “There was no denying that the exact same name was listed among the dead from the fire, and matched via dental records making it much less likely that it was faked. He rubbed his eyes and dragged his hands down to hold his face while he continued to stare at the screen and the name in particular, internally cursing himself for hoping this would be a lead.
“What now?” Chiaki asked.
Nagito glanced at the other monitor. “Maybe I’ll try a background check.” In another window he started filling out the form with Mugan’s details, copying what he needed from what he had already gathered. “I feel like I’m on to something. This guy has to be connected somehow.”
“That sounds like a good plan. But maybe you should also consider other options while you wait. It can’t hurt, right?” The floating head that made up Chiaki’s visual representation smiled warmly and Nagito found himself having to be reminded that she wasn’t real. He was glad he had chosen the empty data lab to do his work today uninterrupted rather than his desk.
“I know.” He grabbed the file they had received containing the experiments that were being conducted at the lab prior to the explosion, still frowning at the lightness of the documents. The professionally worded email had stated that most of their experiments had been kept secret for reasons they labeled as security and refused to expound upon. The one with the most pages detailed something about exploring the bounds of superpowered abilities and listed several that apparently had been the main focus, while leaving an ambiguous “ among others ” at the tail end.
That did not raise any suspicion whatsoever.
The door flew open, followed by an angry “I knew I’d find you here.” Nagito swiveled in his chair to find Togami standing in the doorway, his navy blue suit freshly pressed and scowl firmly in place. He couldn’t remember the last time he had actually seen the corporate manager in person, despite the numerous emails, and so took a moment to appreciate this likeness of him.
“Why is he your favorite, Mirage?”
“Because I typically get a good reaction out of the unsuspecting. Also, because I just spent an hour on the phone with him getting my head bit off and want to convey that same level of hostility.” A quick tilt of the chin to convey superiority and it was nearly impossible to tell the two apart, even if the real one had been in the room as well. Mirage arched a single eyebrow. “Is it working?”
“Not really,” Nagito hummed.
Mirage let out a very uncharacteristic sigh for Togami as he slouched and let himself into the room. “Tell me what happened with this one?” Stranger still was hearing Mirage’s true voice come from their superior’s mouth. ‘Apparently Kirigiri is pissed about having to talk another ex-employee down from reporting you. We’re getting a bad rap, you know.”
Nagito shrugged, turning away and pretending that this censored document about mouse trials was the most riveting thing he had read all day. Unfortunately, he heard Mirage collapsing into a chair and rolling over to him. “What will it take to get you to listen? Do I need to use someone else?”
The light around Togami’s shape began to warp, at times sparkling as the image warped into that of Naegi instead. He kept the same navy suit, but it wasn’t as crisp as what the other wore. The jacket looked like it was stuck in a cycle of being left to hang over the back of chairs when not in use and likely did not go to the cleaners every week. The voice changed as well as he said, “Will this convince you?”
Nagito took a moment to admire Mirage’s level of detail in any transformation. “Makoto would never look that disgruntled.”
“But I am disgruntled.”
“Fair point.”
Mirage groaned and rubbed at the sides of Makoto’s temples. “This is the fifth temp you have run out of the position of data technician this past year. I’m surprised this one lasted a month with how hard you were on him.”
“He was an idiot,” Nagito said.
“That’s not up to you to decide.” Makoto crossed his arms, more indicative of one of the others in upper management than a true likeness of his character. “We have to start searching again and hope someone applies. What are you looking for in a candidate?”
Loyal. Trustworthy. Wouldn’t sell us out the first chance they got. A dog would do nicely.
“I don’t know.” He shrugged.
“Well, if you have an answer that I can reasonably fulfill you know where my office is.” Mirage stood, rolling the chair back to where he found it. “You’re correct, this doesn’t feel right to say as Naegi.” Makoto switched to Kirigiri who fixed him with a sullen look. “If you can come up with an answer I can put in a help wanted ad, you know where to find me,” she said before leaving swiftly with posture rigid.
That had gone better than he had expected. Everyone had been avoiding him once they learned that the cat owning temp had abruptly quit this morning. And now that the worst of it was now past, he reclined in his chair, letting his head fall over the back of it. With only the ceiling to stare at, he let his mind go blank and his breathing slow.
“Why do you not tell them the truth?” Chiaki asked, reappearing on the same monitor after having vanished when their unexpected guest arrived.
“It’s for their own good,” Nagito replied.
“I may not be the most knowledgeable on human interactions, but I would think that if you told them why they might understand.” She waited precisely 15 seconds for a response, but when none came to her suggestion, she continued with, “Are you not friends?”
“Let’s get back to the case.” He clicked open a new email attachment and began to scroll through it.
“Understood. What are you looking at now?”
“Staff members injured during the fire.” This list wasn’t nearly as long, but included hospitals where they were being treated. Most appeared unsure if they would recover. He tapped a pen on the desk, then hit print. “I think I’ll check on them.”
“You could take Sonia. She is… She excels at speaking with people.”
Nagito caught where she nearly said “better at speaking with people.” Not that it wasn’t true, or something of which he wasn’t already aware. “I’d hate to bother her. I think this is the first day off she’s had all week and being on site the other night until 6 am probably didn’t help. Don’t worry, I can handle something this mundane.”
^^^
“I don’t know what you were expecting to accomplish.” Nagito kept his face neutral as the woman seated by the hospital bed crossed her arms, bopping the foot dangling over the other in perfect rhythm to something unheard. It amazed him how composed Ruruka appeared, hair and makeup immaculate despite her fiance lying motionless at her side. Still, the longer he stared at her the more it began to appear there may be the slightest tinge of red in her eyes. But he may also be imagining it.
Sonosuke Izayoi was on guard duty the night of the explosion according to the duty roster he had found. Somehow he managed to escape the worst of it, but still remained unconscious. His emergency contact was his fiance, Ruruka Ando, whom when Nagito had inquired about the patient had earned several looks from nurses who wished him luck. He figured he was learning why now.
She held out her hand to Sonosuke’s prone form, her tone factual and devoid of the emotion filled tears he is used to grieving partners giving. “The doctors say he won’t be waking for some time. Maybe not at all.” She grimaced, pausing in her thoughts to reach out and carefully swipe an invisible hair from the male’s forehead. It’s possible, Nagito thought, that Sonosuke’s hair had been brushed and a light powder dusted over his skin. It made him look more put together and less sickly, at least better than the person in the other bed that shares the room.
“Perhaps he told you something?” Nagito tried. When the woman gave him a confused look he continued with, “Do you know what they were working on?”
Her eyes scaled his full frame while her face twisted in disgust. He never stood a chance to someone’s appraisal who is wearing designer clothes and carrying a handbag worth the same as a car. “Not that I remember. We don’t discuss his work when he gets home. He just dotes on me like a queen.”
Not that she needs it. He’d already checked and knew her family is one of the richest in the country.
“But,” Nagito struggled against her smug expression. “Did he mention anything from work in the past week? Anything unusual? Anything at all to help us will work. We want to catch the person responsible for hurting your fiance.”
Her foot stopped moving and she spun the ring with a large diamond several times around her finger. “He never said anything about what he was working on. Not that I cared, but when I had asked he had said it was top secret. More top secret than even I could know if you could believe that. But I know who you should talk to.” Her eyes narrowed and she leaned forward in her seat prompting Nagito to lean towards her as well, like what she was about to divulge would make all the difference to this case. “I think you should speak to that Seiko Kimura girl. She was always trying to make the moves on my man. Had to put her in her place once and let me tell you it wasn’t pretty. She did try to make another move on him last week. I bet this was payback.”
Nagito blinked slowly as he straightened. “You want me to speak to someone you suspect your fiance was cheating on you with?”
“He would never!” Her hands fluttered about and settled for grabbing the Sonosuke’s limp ones, squeezing it tightly. “We are in love! The most truest love and he would never even dare think of cheating on me, least of all with that skank.”
“You seem pretty convinced she must be involved in something related to him being hurt.”
“Well, of course she must be!” Ruruka huffed. “She’s attacked him before. It was positively disgusting the way she groped at my precious man’s helpless body. She is the most suspicious person where he works. You should definitely start with her.” Something dark passed over her face, making her next words echo with a haunting chill. “I bet she was even the one who did it, you know? She probably burned the building down herself.”
“I think I have heard enough,” Nagito closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. He reconsidered whether he should say the words he was about to, attempting to negotiate whether there was any reason to show politeness for the sake of the woman before him. Eventually he grinned, perhaps a bit too wide due to it being forced and managed “I wish him a speedy recovery,” because it somehow seemed the only thing he could possibly say.
She hummed, returning her attention to setting Sonsuke back into picture perfect position and returned to tapping away on her phone. Nagito escaped notice as he fled.
^^^
“Seiko Kimura?”
There was a loud crashing that followed and a muffled yelp. Slowly he fully entered the tiny university laboratory, heading for the only bench that looked to be in use until shards of glass crunched underfoot. He peered behind it to find the woman in question on hands and knees attempting to mop a suspicious clear liquid with a roll of paper towels. As her head tilted up, her eyes widened and she withdrew her hands to her chest. “S-sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.”
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” Nagito said, crouching in front of her. “Do you need a hand? I”m not very good at much of anything, but the least I can do for scaring you is help you clean this up.”
“No, it’s fine. It’s a delicate mixture. Was a delicate mixture...” Her timid words were muffled behind the fabric mask over her mouth. She sighed, sadly dragging another wadded up towel through it. “It can be quite caustic.”
“My own personal safety never bothered me.” She didn’t appear impressed with his declaration of self sacrifice despite his attempts at a confident smile and nonchalant attitude. So it seemed he still couldn’t get that part right.
“It’s fine,” she said a little more forcefully. “Can I help you?”
“Yes, you work at HPA Laboratories?”
She stiffened. “You want to know about the fire?” When he nodded, she withdrew her hands again, words spilling out of her rapidly. “I wasn’t there. I was out sick and worked from home that day.”
“But, I was hoping you could still help me.” Nagito made another attempt at an assuring smile. But when nothing in her face shifted he dropped it for a more serious one. “I’m looking for any information you might have. Things you heard the week before? Or stumbled upon? Maybe you saw a company email go out?”
Seiko shook her head. “No, nothing like that. The fire came as a shock.” She gingerly grasped a piece of glass between thumb and forefinger, examining the sharp angles and edges before setting it aside in a pile of similarly sized pieces.
“So you’re saying you didn’t know it was going to happen and took the day off?”
“What?” She gasped out. “You… You couldn’t possibly mean that I knew about it before it happened?”
“But I do mean that.” Nagito tilted his head innocently. “Are you saying you didn’t know?”
“Yes! I wasn’t aware there would be a fire that day. I frequently use sick time. It’s a part of my job.” When he raised an eyebrow, she waved her hands over the mess in front of her. “I synthesize many of the chemical compounds that are used in the experimental process. There are all kinds, useful in many different ways. I…” She faltered, one hand stopping just short of touching her mask. “I am capable of maturing some of these compounds within my own body. It’s why I take the days off that I do. To not infect others with anything that could be potentially harmful.”
“Ah, I understand now. I assume that’s why you also wear that mask?”
“Yes.” She nodded eagerly, her eyes looking sad. “It is unfortunate, but being near me could potentially harm someone while I am in the process of producing something.”
Nagito quietly agreed, looking at the pieces scattered at their feet. “Even with the building being destroyed, you are still working?”
“Those responsible for funding the experiments still wish me to continue my work. It is highly valuable and specialized.” She brushed a lock of grey hair behind her ear, eyeing a suspicious brown stain that looked to be a permanent fixture of her new location. “They have me set up here until they are able to secure a new location.”
“So tell me about Sonosuke.”
Seiko blinked rapidly, sitting up straight. “What do you mean?”
“Have you been meeting up with him in secret?” Beneath her mask he could see her jaw drop, her eyes gone wide. “Perhaps doing anything that would make his fiance, Ruruka, suspicious?”
At the mention of her name her expression immediately hardened. “What did she say? She only thinks of herself, but I can assure you I have never been interested in “her man” as she calls him.”
Nagito held up his hands. “She just implied you and he had been in contact. Was that wrong?”
Her gaze drifted to one side, then the other. Slowly she said, “No, I did reach out to him.”
“Behind his fiance’s back?”
“It wasn’t like that! Not in the way that you’re implying anyway.” She drew in a harsh breath and squeezed her eyes shut. “Ruruka has it all wrong. I reached out to him because we used to be friends. All of us.”
Nagito forced himself not to sigh. Personal drama and backstory were not high on his list of things he wanted to hear today. Or any day really. But if it helped him get one step closer to an arsonist, well then he may just have to suffer.
“Continue,” Nagito ground out.
“I guess it’s a bit of a long story.” Nagito nearly cried aloud. “We were close as kids. I was… always the third wheel with those two. But it felt so good to be included.” She shifted uncomfortably, wrapping her arms around herself in a pseudo hug. “But that changed when we grew up. I’ve always been…” She gestured helplessly to her arm, “I’ve always been like this. I attended a party thrown by her family while I was currently transporting a relatively harmless narcotic in my system.”
“They didn’t like that, I take it?” Nagito hazard a guess.
She shrugged. “They always thought I was unusual. It just went bad when they wanted a picture and demanded I take off my mask. There was an argument, she sent Sonosuke after me, he got hit with a full dose of the drug in the resulting fight.” Her face redend. “He passed out, but not before he knocked me over and it was… well she accused me of trying to have my way with him. We’ve not spoken since.”
Nagito drew in a breath. “So why did you reach out to him?”
“I... “ She looked away. “We were making plans. Not like what you are thinking! I… had doubts about a project that was being conducted.”
Ah, now they were getting somewhere. “What experiment are you referring to?”
“The one with the mice, of course.”
“What about the mice did you have doubts on?”
Seiko went silent for a time, but Nagito was willing to wait. Something about the entire story wasn’t adding up, and he suspected that some of the story being spun for him had been fabricated. It amused him that the woman in front of him thought she might get away with it, and he couldn’t help smiling ever so slightly while he awaited her answer.
“I had my doubts that the experiments were worth what we were putting our test subjects through,” she said finally.
“You were concerned for the mice?” Nagito asked.
She nodded. “Yes. Even mice should be allowed some amount of well being.” Her gaze bore into him, her words measured and even. A test, he decided. “Do you not agree?”
Nagito hummed in thought, tapping his chin. “I suppose I would agree if the experiment did more harm than good. So what did you do about these mice?”
“Nothing,” she said. “I was still trying to convince him of what we should do, but I guess he told Ruruka and then the fire happened.”
He nodded. “So you are sticking with the story that you were only experimenting on mice?”
Seiko hesitated. “Yes. All the paperwork of our experiment is available through the corporate offices and you can see that the primary test subjects were mice.”
“I’ve seen those.” What he had been allowed to see anyway. ”Then you may be interested to know that we did not find any mice in the building.” Nagito grinned. “Or cages.”
“Perhaps… they escaped?” She responded, her face going pale.
“Perhaps,” Nagito echoed, standing up. “Thanks for your time. I’ll call if I have any more questions.”
^^^
I will remind you that we cannot continue filling that position. Time and money is going into interviewing candidates that would otherwise be put to better use. If this continues, we will have no choice, but to place you under suspension until you sort out whatever it is that you need to sort out.
Nagito sighed, letting the rest of the email pass by in a blur. Byakuya sure had a way with words and mild threats. He closed out without responding, assuming that it could await another time for him to respond with his usual amount of cheer and groveling. Switching his attention to his desk, he idly pushed his documents about the laboratory fire back into their folder which had grown thick with dead ends and useless bits of information. They did need a tech, if only to help with the research side of things.
His moment of respite was interrupted as a body collided with his desk, sending the neat cup of pencils he had meticulously sharpened scattering to the floor. Unapologetically, the visitor ignored them, sitting where they used to reside and swinging her legs back and forth, heels kicking against the frame.
“Did you hear they’re sending someone new today?” Ibuki grinned, puffing out her chest. “It’s Ibuki’s turn to show the newcomer around!”
Nagito smiled politely. “I was aware.” Because it had come in the form of a strict email from management and a request to leave this one alone which he fully intended to ignore. “You’re sure to be the most energetic tour guide we have.”
Her legs stopped kicking. “You think so? I’ve never done it before. But shouldn’t a good tour prepare someone for anything? Maybe if I dressed up and then jumped out at him that would really get the blood pumping!”
Or possibly send them packing without Nagito’s direct involvement. His mouth was creeping into a wide grin at the image of it.
“Don’t you dare!” Mahiru interrupted, instantly deflating Nagito’s mood. “We need someone to stay longer than ten minutes.”
“She has a point,” Nagito echoed, hiding that he felt no differently as Ibuki pouted. “We could really use the help.”
Mahiru raised an eyebrow. “Since when do you agree?”
Nagito dropped to the floor to gather his scattered pencils. “Right now?”
When he looked up he found her in her classic pose: hands on her hips and eyes narrowed into slits. He chuckled. “Perhaps I will give this one a chance.”
“Fine…” she conceded slowly, her stance loosening as she glanced at her watch. “Wasn’t he supposed to be here already?”
“Oh no! Ibuki’s late!” The musician leapt from his desk, accidentally bumping into him as he was standing, having gathered all of his pencils into one fist and sending him back to the floor and them scattering away further than they had before. A second later and she was gone, leaving him to watch the door from where he was laid out prone.
Mahiru stepped into his view. “Do you need a hand?”
“No, I’d hate to trouble you anyway.” Nagito sat up rubbing at his head.
Mahiru made a small grumbling noise, but left him to regather his things once more. She returned to her own desk and rapidly began tapping at her keyboard. Nagito didn’t dislike any of his coworkers. Mahiru in particular acted as the unofficial mother of the department, keeping everyone organized and functioning even though many were keen to go about their own business. She had been there since the beginning, applying with seamless paperwork and references that showered her in praises.
It showed, even now. One glance at her desk and Nagito could see the neat files of her cases, her desktop flickered through photos she had taken when not in use and her camera resting on a corner where it waited while she uploaded her pictures. She carried out an investigation with perfect professionalism that Byakuya had used her example when describing the ideal employee. At least she was modest about it, blushing when someone brought it up and never mentioning it herself.
Ibuki’s recruitment into the organization was less conventional. They had been called to the site of what had, at first glance, looked like a bomb had gone off. An entire brick wall had blown outwards and it took only moments to find her sitting among the debris holding a guitar and sheepishly admitting she had been the cause. She had been taken in to not be a danger to others with her sonic abilities and focus them into more constructive avenues. Still there had been the occasional window that needed to be replaced because she had gotten a song stuck in her head and forgot to regulate her volume.
Contrary to both her and Ibuki, Nagito had stalked his idol, Makoto Naegi, long enough to be considered an asset. Of course he never described it like that, hence one of the reasons Nagito admired him so much. No, he said things like how it was luck that they continued to run into one another and allowed him to truly see Nagito for the potential he had.
Kyoko often backed anything Makoto said if he used enough conviction in his tone.
Byakuya liked him because his guesses on what stocks to purchase were always spot on.
It was quiet in the tiny office room that several desks occupied. Besides Mahiru and Ibuki’s desks, there were also ones for Sonia and Gundham. The original founding members, he thought fondly as he spun himself slowly in his desk chair allowing his mind to wander away from another new invader into his world. The only ones missing being Kazuichi and Mikan who had spaces of their own elsewhere in the base. Sonia had joined because of her connections. Gundham because of an ultimatum. Kazuichi was scouted. Mikan rescued. Back in the days of when he wasn’t suspicious of new faces.
That wasn’t to say he hadn’t at least cast some doubt on the others. Akane had threatened to break his arm if he continued to stalk her when she first arrived and if he was that desperate to see her boobs she would just show them to him. He had politely declined, but she had pulled open her shirt anyway. After that he left her alone.
Perhaps it was wrong of him. No, it was wrong. He knew that deep down.Yet every time he found himself checking backgrounds, showing up at inopportune moments to catch them off their guard. Using his luck to unearth anything that could be used against his friends.
Well, he thought, rubbing his hands together. He had given Ibuki long enough to get started with her tour with whoever the newest person would be. Now it was likely time for him to introduce himself and guess how long they may last.
If Nagito had his way, they would never expand outside the group they had going now. It was all they truly needed. His neat group of friends that he vowed to protect no matter whether they wanted it or not. And he would protect them. They’d eventually thank him for it.
^^^
"Over here is a meeting room. And over here is another meeting room. And what's this one? Woah, so this is where we keep the extra toilet paper!"
Hajime laughed a little as his guide rifled through the storage closet remarking on what was contained within it. As far as first days of work went, this was pretty good. His tour of the building had included things he didn't think he needed to know, such as which snacks in the vending machine were not Ibuki's favorite, but he was happy enough as it was. Everyone was friendly and the nervous first day feelings had long vanished.
That was until a new face stopped them in the hall.
"Who's this?" The man smiled warmly, but Ibuki looked uncomfortable. That should have been his first clue. With his pale complexion and the way his well worn clothes hung from his frame, nothing about him appeared intimidating.
"I'm Hajime," he said, holding out his hand. The other looked down at his offered hand, but didn't take it. "I'm the new data technician. Ibuki has been showing me around."
"Hajime, huh?" He played with a piece of messy light hair. "Isn't that the most common name?"
"I suppose?"
"Only suppose? You won't last a week with that attitude."
"Nagito, being mean on Hajime's first day is mean to the max! He was liking it here thanks to Ibuki's awesome tour guide skills." She threw an arm over his shoulder and stuck out her tongue at Nagito.
"It wasn't my intention to be mean." Nagito held up his hands and chuckled, a dry throaty one that felt less than authentic. "Only truthful. Enjoy your limited time here."
Hajime waited as the tails of Nagito's green jacket swept around a corner to mutter, "What's that guy's problem?"
"Ibuki doesn't know. I think he's just a jerk." She grabbed his wrist and pulled. "Down this way is the garage. Kazuichi has some cool stuff to look at!"
Nagito? The name did not ring any bells and he had done at least some research before he had arrived. He hadn’t wanted to be surprised by whom he was about to meet, but somehow that name had escaped his notice. Who was he? What were his abilities? What was his deal? All of these things ran through his head while Ibuki continued to chatter about which chairs were better during meetings.
“Hey, what can you tell me about him?” Hajime said, interrupting her when she stopped to take a breath though he had been surprised by how long that had taken.
“What? Oh, you mean Nagito?” Ibuki made a noncommittal noise, her eyes shifting from side to side. “I mean, He’s kinda been around forever, but we don’t always get him.”
He frowned. “Don’t get him…?” Hajime repeated.
“Yeah, you know like how no one really gets the lyrics to a song, but you sing it anyway because it’s catchy? LIke that.” When Hajime responded to that with a blank look, she chuckled nervously and tried again. “He’s like country music. Some people like him, but the rest don’t want him in the same room. And Ibuki doesn’t know anyone that likes country music...”
“Are all your references like this?” Hajime said dryly.
“Ibuki is a musician on the side,” Ibuki shrugged. “Right now, it’s very indie, but you should totally come listen to me play sometime! I practice most nights until ten. Kazuichi built a soundproof room for Ibuki to play in too. Want to see?”
“Sure,” Hajime said with a soft smile. He was a little unsure when she snagged him by the wrist and began to drag him down the hall, but he felt himself easily going along with what she wanted, at the very least to see what it was she had to offer. He hoped the others were much the same, though Nagito, and his cold welcome, continued to linger in the back of his mind.
They hadn’t made it far before they were abruptly stopped by a tall woman with a thick mane of long brunette hair blocking the hallway while stuffing a handful of chips into her mouth. She crunched loudly, but smiled as she looked between him and Ibuki. “Who’s the fresh meat?”
“Akane, this is Hajime. He’s the new temp and Ibuki was showing him around,” the musician declared proudly with a wide grin on her face.
“No way! It’s nice to meet ya.” Akane wiped her hand against her skirt and held it out for Hajime, which he took and ignored the crumbs that brushed against his palm. “Hey, follow me. You can meet Coach too while you’re here.”
She waved them on and pushed through a door into a large gymnasium. Equipment of all kinds lined the sides while mats had been stretched out across the floors. In the center stood a massive bodybuilder of a man. He looked up from where he was adjusting one of the mats when they entered and jumped to his feet with a booming “Who’s this?”
“New guy,” Akane said before overturning her bag of chips and emptying the remains into her mouth. Once empty, she crumpled the bag into a ball and tossed it at a trash can, cheering when it bounced in.
“Welcome to the team,” he said, reaching out and grabbing Hajime’s hand in a massive fist and shaking it hard enough to make him wince. “My name’s Nekomaru, or coach, some people call me. Whichever’s fine. I keep everyone in shape around here.” He paused, a frown creasing his brows that suddenly had Hajime wishing to escape. “No powers?”
“N-no,” Hajime said, managing to wiggle his hand free and hide it behind him like it had somehow betrayed him. “How did you…?”
“Ah! My ability is to borrow other people’s ability, so I am pretty good at recognizing what someone has when I touch them.” Despite the loud tone and huge form, there really wasn’t much of anything else intimidating about the man in front of him. Hajime felt himself relaxing at passing a test he didn’t realize he would have to today. “Not that it matters that you don’t have one, because I know regular fitness training as well. In fact, stick with me and you’ll even be able to beat ability users like these two someday without any.” He grinned while jerking his thumb at both Akane and Ibuki who took a moment to recognize what he had just said.
“Hey!” Akane huffed, “Don’t you go filling his head with ideas that some weakling like him could beat me.”
“Oh yeah?” Nekomaru’s grin looked far more devious. “I suppose you could demonstrate then?”
“That mean a fight?” Akane hunched forward, as she did so her ears, nails, and fangs all elongated and her eyes took on a more feral appearance. “Prove to the new guy we’re not a bunch of pushovers here?”
“You might want to step back,” Nekomaru told Hajime and waited for him to take several strides away from the mats. “What about you, Ibuki? Two on one may make it more of a fair fight.”
“Ibuki has been told to use her indoor voice when inside,” Ibuki said, picking at one of her many bracelets. She hunched her shoulders with a small nervous giggle.
“It’s okay if it’s for training.” Nekomaru fell into some kind of fighting stance that Hajime wasn’t familiar with, but he still glanced over his shoulder at Hajime. “The most important thing when fighting ability users is to know what you’re up against. Ibuki, for example, will probably stay out of range to hit me with her sonic waves, but Akane will use her increased speed and strength to get up close and personal.”
“That’s not the most important thing,” Akane chuckled before moving fast enough to nearly become a blur. She reappeared behind Nekomaru and pulled back a fist to deal the first blow. “Don’t take your eyes off of your opponent!”
It was over in the blink of an eye. Nekomaru adjusted to the side as Akane’s fist skimmed past his shoulder. In the same motion he had her wrist and using her own momentum, neatly threw her forward and onto her back.
“Like I said,” Nekomaru grinned at Hajime who was staring open mouthed at what he had just witnessed, “The most important rule is to know your opponent, but the other most important rule would be to not take your eyes off them.”
“Do you need to tag out?” Ibuki asked. She had leaned forward onto her knees as Akane picked herself back up.
“Not yet,” she growled and launched herself at Nekomaru once again.
Akane, Hajime remembered from his research, had several articles featured on her, normally discussing the amount of damage she wrought when unsupervised. From the reckless way she threw herself into her violent assault on her opponent it was clear why they existed. At first he was concerned about Nekomaru’s well being, but the man continued to deflect punches and kicks. He was sure that it was Akane, despite her advantages in strength and speed, that had yet to land a hit.
Though what he found odd were the matching determined grins on both of their faces. It was suddenly apparent that they were clearly enjoying their sparring match. And judging by how neither seemed to be out of breath they were both in remarkable shape. It was amazing really and a small faint whisper begged to allow him to join in. But he had just succeeded in convincing his new coworkers that he was a plain, boring person, so he resigned himself to watching from the sidelines.
“What have I said about keeping your form? Going all out makes you sloppy.”
With a snarl, Akane tried to kick him, but succeeded only in having her ankle caught in his grip. Nekomaru pushed it over her head and she backflipped with the motion, catching herself with her hands and springing back. Despite the disadvantage, she had recovered with surprising feline grace to land on her feet and on top of Ibuki. The musician yelped as she was pushed backwards, the sound louder than what would have been normal and forced the group to cover their ears with their hands.
Still ringing, Hajime pulled his hands away just as something cracked overhead. Hundreds of tiny shards began to rain down, stinging as they cut into his skin. He crouched, covering his face with his arms as the remnants of the overhead lights continued to fall and a less familiar feeling surged forward from within trying to protect him without him calling it out.
Abilities still foreign within his body rose to the surface. The wounds began to stitch themselves closed as time slowed around him when his senses became hyper aware. Before Hajime could draw his next breath, memories of fire choked him, screams of long dead people echoing from nowhere deafening the world around him. A laboratory he hated going up in smoke. The few seconds that ticked by felt like an eternity.
“Hajime!”
He kept his head down, suddenly feeling panic that he was moments away from being caught. He didn’t need a mirror to know that his eyes had turned to a bright crimson and he squeezed them shut while he forced himself to relax. “I’m fine! Just a little surprised.”
Letting out a breath, he picked his head and opened his eyes, now their usual green, blinking as Nekomaru grabbed his arm and lifted him onto his feet like he was a child.
“There’s blood!” Ibuki yelled, pointing a finger at Hajime. Her face was pale and she was shaking.
“It’s just a couple of scratches,” he said. The ones on his arms didn’t look bad thanks to the little healing boost, now mostly just some blood over shallow wounds.
“Everyone to the nurse,” Nekomaru announced and began ushering them out through the door.
^^^
“This isn’t normally how I like to be introduced.”
The group had all agreed that Hajime needed to be treated first despite his assurances that he really was fine and just shook up. Mikan looked and behaved timidly until it came to her duties, where she had sat him down on a chair and started asking questions about what had happened.
“Hopefully I won’t make this a recurring thing,” Hajime told her with a laugh. The others did not join in.
“Ibuki is going to get in so much trouble for this…” the musician bemoaned. “On his first day and everything.”
“It… really doesn’t look that bad.” Mikan’s voice was barely above a whisper. “You don’t have any blood conditions do you?”
“Not that I know of,” Hajime replied.
“Oh, because it is a little strange.” Hajime was sure she could feel his pulse race beneath her touch. “These cuts aren’t very deep, so they shouldn’t have bled as much as they did.”
The room suddenly felt suffocating and Hajime had to swallow to get his mouth to work again. “Maybe I was just lucky?”
There were several groans around the room. Apparently that was not something to joke about with this group. “Nah, I don’t think so,” Nekomaru crossed his arms, having gone deep in thought. “I would have been able to tell when I touched him.”
“Sorry,” he hunched his shoulders. “Did I say something wrong?”
“It’s.. Ah, well…” Mikan fumbled with the bandaid she was attempting to open. “Someone here is lucky…”
“Hajime has met Nagito,” Ibuki informed them.
Now it began to all make sense. He leveled his gaze on her and said, “Country music?”
She nodded enthusiastically. “Exactly! Keep an eye out for him.”
Hajime already planned on doing just that.