Chapter Text
Out of all the cases Naomasa dealt with, the ones involving kids were the worst.
Naomasa sighed and stepped into the empty control room: chairs shoved back from desks and papers in disarray. The officers were out assisting in cleaning up the biggest Trigger bust of the decade. Cops and heroes alike rushed to load the caught criminals into holding cells and continue searching for those who escaped arrest. Five minutes at the station, and Naomasa already knew it would be a rough night.
He slid off his trench coat, and flung it over a chair, examining the back wall lined with screens displaying video feeds from cameras around the police station. From the look of it, all interrogations were underway except one. Naomasa inspected the video feed of interrogation room five.
The criminal perched on the bench’s edge, his foot tapping in a nervous tick, green tangled hair shadowing his face, and quirk suppressant handcuffs chaining him to the metal table. As if knowing someone was watching, the criminal lifted his head, wide green eyes staring at the camera.
Compared to the other four villains in interrogation, the kid hardly screamed threat. When arresting large groups of criminals and villains, interrogations started with the most high-profile figures. The kid looked like an average student. If anything, Naomasa would peg him as a shoplifter or small-time drug dealer, nothing necessitating an interrogation. Naomasa’s gaze dropped to the criminal’s profile in his hands.
Midoriya Izuku
Naomasa flipped it open. Typical file. Though Naomasa raised an eyebrow at Midoriya’s age, he would have clocked the kid at sixteen- seventeen at most- not eighteen.
Naomasa checked Midoriya’s history. Typical story. Raised by a single mother, both mother and son disappeared and were declared dead; Midoriya turned up years later with Yakuza. The same sad story as a dozen others; the only difference was the name and the gang.
A teen slips through the cracks of society and tumbles headfirst into the criminal underworld. By the time the teen was arrested, it was too late, their fate sealed with the echoing sound of a jail cell locking. A typical ending. Naomasa closed the file. There was nothing Naomasa could do once a kid broke the law.
Even after reading the profile, Naomasa's question remained. Why did Aizawa ask Naomasa at 1:00 AM to interrogate the kid?
“Your informant was right again,” Aizawa commented, stepping into the control room, his dirtied costume and disheveled appearance evidence of the drawn-out fight in the Trigger bust. He handed Naomasa one of the two cups in his hands.
Naomasa nodded his thanks at the much-deserved coffee. Aizawa owed him for coming in past midnight. “Citizen’s tip?”
Aizawa’s face fell flat, and he drawled in an even flatter tone, “Four hours. He gave four hours heads-up.”
“He tends to do that.” Naomasa was well accustomed to Citizen’s irregular and badly timed phone calls.
“Intel was thorough though.”
“He tends to do that.”
Aizawa’s eyes narrowed, and he swallowed a mouthful of coffee. “Told me ‘I’m just a concerned citizen’ when I asked for a name and hung up.”
“He tends to do that too,” Naomasa repeated wryly, setting down Midoriya’s file on one of the desks and sipping his coffee, counting on the caffeine waking him up; Naomasa had a suspicion he’d need it tonight.
“Why’d you call me in?” Nothing required Naomasa’s lie-detecting quirk; all the arrested criminals were caught red-handed. From what was displayed on the screen, Mindwipe seemed to be doing just fine grilling a black-haired man with glasses, and Detective Tanuma already had the man with arrow-like spiked hair talking. With those two, and the others working on dragging out information, Naomasa would be better spent at the Trigger bust getting the hero’s and police officer’s reports.
“Have you been briefed yet?”
Naomasa tuned into the chaos echoing in from around the building, screaming criminals being wrangled into holding cells, the scurrying of feet across the tiled floor, and the hollering orders of officers. A crash followed by a couple of bangs and muttered curses sounded from a room nearby, and Naomasa stifled a wince. “Don’t think anyone has had the time.”
Aizawa set down his coffee on a table and pulled out a report tucked under his arm. “Take a look, then. Think you’ll find it interesting.”
Naomasa grabbed it, eyeing Aizawa as he cracked it open and scanned the night’s report. His eyes widened at the words Shie Hassaikai.
“About time,” Naomasa murmured, a potential lead in the pitifully small case Naomasa had scrounged together. Perhaps enough to get those sickos behind bars.
While whispers of the Shie Hassaikai involvement followed catastrophes, their name trailing in the wake of the League of Villains and tentative rumors connecting them to the quirk-destroying bullets, no one had managed to pin them with anything. The closest Naomasa ever got to obtaining a warrant was over a year ago with the capture of Chisaki Kai- alias Overhaul- before unidentified villains freed him.
Aizawa’s mouth twitched in a slight smirk. “They were going to screw up eventually.”
Naomasa noted to thank Citizen whenever he called again and continued reading. He proceeded to add another mental note to investigate the MLA. For the most part, the quirk fanatics kept to themselves and stayed out of trouble. Why did they want so much Trigger? A troubling question that led to a more disturbing one- what did the Shie Hassaikai gain from selling so much Trigger to the MLA?
Naomasa inspected the screens, identifying the man Mindwipe was interrogating as Trumpet, a high-ranking MLA member, and Detective Tanuma was busy with the Shie Hassaikai Chronostatis. Both arrests were wins for heroes.
Naomasa lost his smile as he finished the report, looking up at Eraserhead and holding up the file. “Only two Shie Hassaikai were arrested.”
“Two confirmed,” Aizawa corrected. “We arrested twenty-three criminals. There is potentially more.”
Naomasa glanced back at the screen; Midoriya’s head ducked down, shoulders hunched. “I’m here to weed out the Shie Hassaikai?”
“Not quite.” Aizawa inclined his face towards the doorway, calling, “Dynamight, care to explain?”
Bakugo stormed into the room, his ruthless stare breezing over Naomasa and locking onto the screen. “Trench Coat,” he said in lieu of a greeting.
“Dynamight,” Naomasa replied, used to the nickname from working with the in-training hero over the past two months while Bakugo completed his underground heroic hours.
“Still doesn’t make fuckin’ sense,” Bakugo hissed.
Aizawa took the night’s report from Naomasa and snapped it closed. “Dynamight, tell Tsukauchi how you know Midoriya.”
Naomasa pulled out a new notebook as Bakugo jerked his head away from the screen and spoke through gritted teeth. “I grew up with the fuckin’ nerd, played with him at the playground, went to school with him- all that shit. I was nine when Aunti- Midoriya Inko and the nerd disappeared. They finally found Midoriya Inko shot up in an alleyway, but-” Dynamight paused, and Naomasa looked up to watch Bakugo’s lips curl into a bitter sneer- “Everyone figured the nerd ended up the same and stopped searching for the body.“ Bakugo laughed hoarsely. “Who knew he was with the Shie Hassaikai.”
Naomasa stopped writing. “Midoriya’s yet to be identified as Shie Hassaikai. What makes you say that?”
Bakugo didn’t suit underground hero work; his quirk was as loud and abrasive as his personality. However, despite the bad match, with his quick thinking, downright terrifying fighting skill, and dead-accurate intuition, Bakugo completed every case Naomasa tossed at him. If Bakugo believed something, he was probably right.
Bakugo scoffed. “Nerd’s too fuckin’ smart to be running with a couple of low-level drug-addicted cultish extras.” Bakugo crossed his arms, leaning back on his heels. “He always carried around a stupid notebook, breaking down quirks and analyzing the shit out of them. The two crow-faced villains who fought us knew our quirks, weaknesses- the whole shitshow. Like someone had told them in advance. UA doesn’t make it public that hero students spend time messing underground. They shouldn’t have been ready for my quirk.” Bakugo’s hands dug into his arms while he seethed at the screen. “If Eyebags hadn't shoved them under his quirk, they would have escaped.”
Bakugo aimed his furious glare at Naomasa, a challenge in his red eyes, daring Naomasa to doubt him. “He’s Shie Hassaikai.”
Naomasa believed him. “Still, why am I here to question Midoriya?”
“The shitty nerd always wanted to be a hero,” Bakugo growled.
Naomasa closed his eyes briefly. “You think he’ll rat out the Shie Hassaikai.”
“I know it,” Bakugo snapped. “If you do your fuckin’ job well, you probably could get the shitty nerd as a mole.”
Naomasa tapped his pen against his notepad. “Maybe,” he granted, keeping his voice polite but firm. “However, Midoriya has likely been with them for years, and Yakuza tend to be extremely loyal to one another, it might not be as easy as your think, Dynamight.”
“Most Yakuza might be, but you didn’t fuckin’ see them. I saw how the shitty nerd acted around the other plague-masked bastards.”
Naomasa glanced at Aizawa. “Eraserhead?”
Aizawa evaluated Midoriya, lips pressed into a thin line. “I think there is a possibility we could,” he finally replied. “Dynamight’s right that Midoriya appeared to be with the Shie Hassaikai but not particularly cozy with them. There doesn’t seem to be much regard there, though Chronostatis seemed to step in when Midoriya was attacked at the beginning.”
Naomasa sipped his coffee, considering the plan. It was a brilliant idea if he managed to persuade Midoriya. The two high-ranked Shie Hassaikai weren’t going to talk; Naomasa guaranteed it. If they got the kid as an informant, they wouldn’t arrest a couple of Shie Hassaikai members but have a shot at taking down the whole organization. However, they needed to work fast before the rest of the Shie Hassaikai learned Midoriya was arrested.
“Dynamight, you seem the most familiar with Midoriya; do you want to take this?”
“We were fuckin’ classmates- not friends.”
Naomasa’s quirk flared at the lie, but he didn’t comment.
“Anything else I should know then?”
Bakugo irritation waned, and he stared at the screen almost thoughtfully. “The shitty nerd was obsessed with Allmight- heroes in general. I can’t fuckin’ believe he’s changed so much that’s different.”
“I can work with that angle.” Informants started in two ways, helping the police to help themselves or helping the police with their own twisted sense of heroism. Naomasa tucked Midoriya’s file under his arm. “Anything to add, Eraserhead?”
Aizawa jerked his thumb at the screen. “Dynamight, get the audio set up. We’re listening in.”
Bakugo scowled at the dismissal, but while brash, he knew when to listen and headed over to the desk.
Naomasa grabbed his coffee and followed Aizawa into the hallway. “You disagree with Dynamight?”
“No.”
Naomasa side-eyed Aizawa. His quirk remained silent at the truth.
“Despite Dynamight’s seeming lack of social aptitude, he has a talent for reading people.”
“I hear a yet coming.”
Aizawa stopped, staring back at the control room. “The kid’s skilled, but he can be blinded by emotion. There’s history between those two, and the Shie Hassaikai is more personal to him than most.”
Naomasa grimaced. Bakugo had been kidnapped by the League two years ago. Only rescued at Kamino after All for One was murdered. For weeks, rumors of Shie Hassaikai’s involvement circulated, but like every other time, not enough evidence to confirm anything.
“He won’t admit it, but he’s desperate to catch the Shie Hassaikai.”
“I thought you said you agreed with him.”
Aizawa stared flatly at him. “I do. I think Bakugo is correct in everything he said; I am doubtful of the extent to which the things said would cause Midoriya to change allegiances.”
“Do you think Midoriya will agree?”
“I think there is a possibility we can,” Aizawa repeated. “But I’m not holding my breath.”
“What’s your impression of him?”
“He’s smart and clever: Skilled fighter too. Stayed out of the fight- only jumped in when needed. The kid is acting all timid in there-“ Aizawa waved his hand down the hallway at interrogation room five “-is not him. He beat Mindwipe. He’s not as scared as he wants us to think.”
Naomasa jotted that down in his notebook. “Who ended up catching him?”
“Midnight knocked him out.”
Two hours post the Trigger bust Midnight’s quirk would have fully worn off, which means Naomasa couldn’t count on Midoriya being groggy. “Thanks for the info, Eraserhead,” Naomasa said and entered the interrogation room, the door shutting behind him with a soft click.
Midoriya’s head jerked up, green eyes wide as his gaze darted across Naomasa. Very much awake and alert.
“Midoriya Izuku, right?” Naomasa started, settling down in the chair across the table.
Midoriya jerked his head in a quick nod. He sat tense, like a tightly wound spring. Every edge buzzed with pent-up energy.
Naomasa had done hundreds of interrogations, learning the fine line between different emotions displayed in body language. Midoriya was nervous. He was not scared. Not like Midoriya wanted Naomasa to think. In fact, under the shaking foot, quick shifting gaze, and coiled hands, were undercurrents of irritation. The sharpness hidden by his green doe eyes, the exasperated flush of his cheeks, and the way his hands curled around the handcuffs as if he could snap them. Midoriya was miffed.
“This conversation is being audio recorded, so I need answers verbally,” Naomasa instructed, paying attention to any flares from his quirk.
“Yes, Sir,” Midoriya whispered, his voice soft and higher-pitched than Naomasa expected.
Naomasa’s quirk stayed silent. True, he translated.
“I’m detective Tsukauchi. This isn’t an interrogation-” yet “-I just need to confirm that everything in your file is up to date. Think you can handle answering a couple of questions?”
Midoriya went to nod then flushed and he mumbled, “Yes, Sir.”
Naomasa opened the file. “We’ll start easy. I know it’s late, but do you need some water or food?”
“Umm-” Midoriya shifted, and his cuffs clanked against the metal table “-Water, please.”
Naomasa nodded at the camera before focusing on Midoriya. “It’ll be here in a few minutes. While we wait, let’s get the usual questions out of the way. What’s your quirk?”
“The quirk’s name is Energy Attraction- I can pull energy towards me and store it for later uses.”
True.
“Address?”
Midoriya shrank in his seat. “I don’t really have one.”
Naomasa raised an eyebrow. “An address? Kid, you have to sleep somewhere.”
Midoriya shrugged a shoulder, refusing to look at Naomasa.
“Very well.” Naomasa marked N/A on the sheet. They’d circle back to that question later.
“You’re eighteen? Birthday July 15th?”
“Yes, Sir.”
True.
Someone knocked at the door, and Naomasa excused himself, stepped into the hallway, and shut the door.
Shinsou held out a cup of water, a bruise marking his lower jaw. From the flicker of annoyance in Shinsou’s eyes when he spotted Midoriya while the door was open, Naomasa suspected where Shinsou received it.
“You’re done with Trumpet?”
“No, I interrupted my interrogation to get you a cup of water,” Shinsou said dryly, handing the drink to Naomasa.
“Thanks, you fought Midoriya; anything to note?”
Shinsou fingered his jaw. “He knows how to punch.”
Naomasa sighed. “Anything important to note?”
“Not really,” Shinsou rolled his shoulders. “He didn’t talk. He seemed far more preoccupied with escaping than chitchatting.”
“So, he knew your quirk?”
Shinsou half laughed. “Couldn’t really confirm since I was busy avoiding being kicked in the ribs, but yeah, he ignored the couple jabs I said.”
“Did Trumpet say anything-“ Naomasa started, but Shinsou was already strolling away.
“Not much, standard nonsense of the MLA,” Shinsou called without looking back. “Though, apparently, the MLA was trading Overhaul to the Shei Hassaikai for the Trigger load.”
“What?”
“You know, I had the exact same reaction.”
“The report never mentioned him.”
Shinsou lingered in the doorway of the control room. “You can confirm later, but Trumpet swore Overhaul was there.”
“Then why did no one spot him?”
Shinsou cocked his head over his shoulder. “Trumpet said something about seeing some vigilantes but, of course, couldn’t identify them. Maybe ask Midoriya about it.”
“The report mentioned some dark-clothed figures who vanished near the beginning of the bust; maybe it was them,” Naomasa muttered. However, the report suggested it was a few M.L.A that hightailed it at the first sign of the heroes.
“Your guess is as good as mine,” Shinsou drawled and disappeared into the control room.
Naomasa stood alone in the hallway, questions circling his head. Why would the Shie Hassaikai trade that much Trigger for Chisaki Kai? Overhaul said while in custody, he was no longer a part of the Shie Hassaikai and didn’t work with them anymore. What did the Shie Hassaikai want with the man who killed All for One?
Naomasa forced himself to focus and not let his mind spiral. He entered the room a minute later, sliding the drink across the table. “Sorry for that. Something came up.”
Midoriya hummed and sipped his drink; it was awkward with his handcuffs, but he made it work.
Naomasa seated himself. “Now, Midoriya, as much as we both would prefer going back to our previous conversation, we’d be avoiding the fact of the matter. You’ve been told your rights?”
Midoriya’s foot tapped against the floor. “Yes, Sir.”
“Would you like a lawyer?”
Midoriya chuckled bitterly. “Not much it will do me now.”
“So, you realize the trouble you’re in, kid.”
Midoriya jabbed a finger at the table, inspecting the metal surface.
Naomasa leaned forward. “I want to help you, Midoriya.” Naomasa turned back to Midoriya’s profile. “But I’m going to be honest; You’re in a rough spot. You’re looking at fifteen years- at least.”
“Sorry.”
“I’m afraid an apology doesn’t work in courts.” Naomasa reclined in the chair. “How did a kid like you end up with the Shei Hassaikai anyway?”
The kid half shrugged, staring at the metal table like it was the most fascinating thing in the world. “I don’t know,” he finally whispered.
Lie.
Naomasa tapped his pen against his notebook. “Kid, I can’t help you if you don’t work with me.
Midoriya remained silent, slumped over, hiding behind his mess of green curls, acting like a timid animal.
“You need to work with me here.”
Silence.
Defiant silence. If Midoriya was going to be stubborn then… Naomasa sighed and stood, grabbing the files and turning towards the door. “I guess the conversation is over. Good luck, kid. You’ll need it in court.”
“What do you want?”
The words stopped Naomasa, the tone sharp.
Naomasa glanced over his shoulder. Midoriya’s wide prey-like gaze was gone- something intense shimmering under the green irises.
“Pardon?”
“What. Do. You. Want?” Midoriya spoke each word slowly, annoyance bleeding into his expression. “I’m not stupid. Cut the act of ‘I’m here to help’. Why are you even talking to me and not Chronostasis or Nemoto?”
Naomasa let the barest smile cross his face. “You’re right. Here, I’ll make a deal. You stop faking this scared helpless kid attitude, and I’ll be honest with you.”
Midoriya’s jaw worked, his hunched shoulder lowering into harsh edges. “Fine.”
“Why are you running with the Skie Hassaikai?” Naomasa asked, returning to his seat.
“I thought you were going to explain why you’re here.”
“And I will,” Naomasa promised, “but you need to answer some of my questions first.”
Midoriya shot a withering glare at him; mouth fused shut.
Naomasa began to suspect Midoriya wasn’t going to answer when he admitted, “The Shie Hassaikai took me in. I didn’t-“ he looked at the wall- “I didn’t… there wasn’t another home for me.”
True. Naomasa offered a sympathetic smile. “The Shie Hassaikai is a dangerous organization.”
“I know that. I didn’t have a choice.”
True. Lie. Naomasa tapped his pen against his notebook and didn’t call Midoriya on it.
“They’ve hurt a lot of people.”
Midoriya whipped his head back at Naomasa, spitting, “I didn’t want to.”
True. Naomasa took a sip of coffee while he gathered his thoughts. Midoriya matched Bakugo’s observation of not being thrilled to be with the Shie Hassaikai, a slight distaste leaking in his voice whenever he mentioned them. Enough to betray them remained to be seen. “I believe you. However, that won’t matter in court.”
Midoriya grimaced. “What’s going to happen to me?”
“Prison. You’ve aged out of juvie, so you’re facing the full charges.” Naomasa paused, sipping his coffee again, and made a go for it. “Or, if you want an opportunity to help, there is a second option.”
Midoriya frowned, brow furrowing. “This has to do with why you’re here, doesn’t it?”
Perceptive, Naomasa observed. “Depends. Do you like the Shie Hassaikai?”
“What type of question even is that?”
“The one I need you to answer.”
Midoriya half laughed, shaking his head as his jaw worked. He finally met Naomasa’s eyes. “No.”
True.
“I’m going to ask again then- Why are you with them?” Naomasa leaned forward, forcing Midoriya to meet his gaze. “You don’t like them, you know they’re dangerous, and you know they’re hurting people.”
“I didn’t have a choi-“
“Midoriya.”
The kid flinched.
Naomasa softened his tone. “We both know that’s not true.”
Midoriya chewed his lip.
“You’re a smart kid.” Naomasa put down his pen, threading his fingers together. “You could have found another place to go, but you didn’t. Why not?”
“Because,“ Midoriya huffed, looking around the room as he tried to form the words. “I-,” Midoriya screwed his mouth in a bitter smile and glared at Naomasa “-I thought I could change them.”
Naomasa blinked. True.
“I wanted to help and...”
True.
“…And I thought I could save them.”
True.
Midoriya’s bitter smile morphed into a rueful self-reproachful grin, and he shrugged. “But I couldn’t.”
Naomasa rested his head on his hands, searching Midoriya.
The kid fiddled with his cuffs, eyes hazy and distant. His gaze flicked back at Naomasa, regret shimming in his green eyes and he spitted, “Happy now? I was a stupid kid with an impossible dream that got in over his head.”
True.
“Would you help us stop them?”
Midoriya blinked, his mouth hanging slightly open.
“You can still help.”
Midoriya’s face flattened, and he jangled his handcuffs. “Sorry, I’m a bit tied up at the moment.”
Naomasa ignored the snark. “Would you be interested?”
“You promised to be honest with me,” Midoriya pointed out. “If you want a straight answer, then talk straight.”
“You’re right,” Naomasa conceded as twirled the pen in his fingers. “Simply put, we want you to be an informant in the Shie Hassaikai.”
Midoriya stared at him for a few seconds. “A snitch-“ he jerked on the bench, kicking the table leg with a wry laugh “-should have known. Now it makes sense why you’re here.”
“They’re dangerous and a threat.”
“They’re not all bad,” Midoriya snapped.
True.
An unfortunate drawback to Naomasa’s quirk was it failed to differentiate objective and subjective truth. Too Midoriya, some of the Shie Hassaikai might not be ‘bad’, but in reality... “While that may be, you said yourself you wanted to help. You could save a lot of people.”
Midoriya frowned. “Why informant, why not just grill me then toss me in prison?”
Naomasa raised his eyebrows. “Are you suggesting it?”
“Don’t dodge the question, honesty, remember?”
“We’ve been chasing the Shie Hassaikai for years. Even if you told enough for us to obtain a warrant, with how slippery you guys are, some would still escape. We need someone on the inside.”
Midoriya took a sip of water. “If- and it’s still an if- I do this, will my record be cleared?”
Naomasa settled his hands down on the table, offering a wry smile. “Saving people isn’t enough?”
“No-“
Surprisingly, Naomasa’s quirk remained silent.
“But- it would be nice to avoid spending most of my life in prison.”
Naomasa couldn’t fault that. “If- and it’s still an if- you successfully help us take down the Shie Hassaikai, I can assure you your record will be cleared. Though, repeated crimes will be punished.”
“What do you expect of me as an informant?”
“For you report everything you hear and see, we do the rest.”
Midoriya muttered to himself. Too quiet for Naomasa to hear and for his quirk to pick up.
“What?”
“Just thinking,” Midoriya mumbled louder before he continued to mutter something to himself. He shook his head. “It’s not going to work. The Shie Hassaikai will know I’ve been arrested.”
“Would they believe you if you said you weren’t caught?”
Midoriya chewed his lip. “Yeah, if I make it back before morning and all knowledge of my arrest is wiped.”
“We will remove mention of you from all documentation,” Naomasa assured, eyeing the camera before focusing on Midoriya. “Are you in?”
Midoriya took a deep breath, glancing at the camera then at Naomasa, and sighed. “Fine.”
Naomasa studied Midoriya. Still nervous, still irritated, but a slight upturn in his lips like he was excited by the prospect.
“You’ll be an informant for the Shie Hassaikai for us?”
“Yes.”
True.
“When do I start?”
Naomasa smiled, clicking his pen. “Right now. What can you tell me about the Shie Hassaikai?”
On one end of the conference room table were stacks of reports from police officers and heroes of the Trigger bust, in the middle were all the transcripts from the interrogations that night, and closest to Naomasa was the first open spot on the table. In front of him, his notes from his conversation with Midoriya blurred, and Naomasa rubbed his eyes. He groaned, slumping back in his seat as he checked his watch. 4:17.
Midoriya had left over an hour ago, the past sixty minutes a chaotic rush compiling the information from interrogations, contacting heroes, and scheduling meetings. Naomasa glanced from his notes to the transcripts of the other interrogations.
Naomasa had hoped with Midoriya feeding the police information, they would have the Shie Hassaikai behind bars in a couple of months, but the revelations that night, including but not limited to-
- Overhaul created the quirk destroying bullets.
- The MLA aware Overhaul created the bullets.
- The MLA had been holding Overhaul for the past year.
-Naomasa suspected it would be months before they got around to handling the Shie Hassaikai. The MLA had suddenly become a very real and very immediate threat.
“Who invented paperwork?”
Naomasa raised his head to his left, Shinsou lifting up a piece of paper like he was holding a cat by the scruff of its neck.
“I just want to talk to them, honest.”
Lie.
“Shut it. I can’t focus with your yapping,” Bakugo snapped from Naomasa’s right, on the other side of the conference table.
Shinsou set down his paper. “Really? You should have said something; I would have started sooner.”
Naomasa huffed softly; despite the capable heroes Shinsou and Bakugo were, they were still kids. “Not right now,” he cut in as Bakugo started to bite back. Naomasa cracked his back and scanned the table.
Bakugo had a laptop out, scouring the internet for information on the MLA What every free person was working on since the news broke out Overhaul had been kidnapped by them and could make quirk-destroying bullets.
Shinsou had just started his report of the night, too busy documenting and filing his interrogations. From the looks of things, he had a long way to go.
“How’s it holding in here?” Detective Tanuma asked, entering the room and sliding a tray of coffee onto the table.
“You’re my new hero.” Shinsou slammed his pen down and snatched a coffee. It was the fastest Naomasa had seen Shinsou move besides when he fought.
“Thanks for letting us use the conference room,” Naomasa said while swiping a cup of coffee.
Detective Tanuma waved a hand. “No bother. You needed a room somewhere that wasn’t still in complete chaos.” He sighed, crossing his arms. “There’s going to be a briefing at 6:00 in the room down the hall to go over, well, everything.”
“Guess we’re missing class today,” Bakugo muttered.
“I already contacted Snipe and Nedzu that you two would be unavailable for the day.” Aizawa strode into the room and beelined for the coffee. He snagged one, tugging out a free chair with his foot and collapsing into it. “Prism and Tsukuyomi will be here by 6:00, and Sir Nighteye said he should be here at 7:00.”
Naomasa’s shoulder eased and he exhaled. With Sir Nighteye and his agency resources, taking down the Shie Hassaikai and MLA became a whole lot easier. However, that brought up another issue. “Once this breaks the news in the morning, heroes will be hounding to get on the case.”
“Not like we can keep this off the news. The Commission has already been informed,” Detective Tanuma muttered with a frown and leaned back against the table as he picked up a coffee. “Heroes will have to be filled in anyway. This Trigger bust shook things up. Hawks offered his agency tonight to update any heroes and I’m planning on accepting.”
Infighting between hero agencies over who gets on the case is exactly what’s needed, Naomasa thought and grimaced into his cup of coffee. He would save that headache-inducing problem for later. “Eraserhead, will you be leaving to teach?”
“Mic is covering for me. Midnight had to leave, though.”
“We’ll take all the help we can,” Detective Tanuma sighed. “I’m off to organize the meeting. Oh, and Shinsou, good luck with the paperwork.”
Shinsou smirked at Detective Tanuma’s back as he exited the room. “No need, I’m done,” he said and slid the report aside.
“Want to help Bakugo investigate the M.L.A?” Naomasa asked.
Shinsou wrinkled his nose. “Nah, I’m going to try and find these supposed vigilantes Trumpet mentioned. See if it leads to Overhaul.” Shinsou scrutinized his drink. “I’m going to need a lot more coffee.”
“No, you’re not. After the meeting this morning, you two are going back to UA to rest,” Aizawa corrected.
Naomasa drank his coffee and watched the discord.
“I don’t need sleep,“ Shinsou droned around a mouthful of coffee. “You never-“
“I’m not ditching in the middle of a case,” Bakugo fumed, glaring over his computer screen. “Fu-“
Aizawa flared his quirk. Both in-training hero’s mouths clamped shut. “I want you at Hawk’s agency tonight, and you need to be awake. Prism and Tsukuyomi can take over for you when they get here.” Aizawa turned at Naomasa. “I removed any mention of Midoriya from the official reports. He should be in the clear.”
“Thanks.”
“Oh, and Citizen called.”
Naomasa braced himself. “And?”
Aizawa shrugged. “Wanted to know how the raid went. I asked him about Midoriya to see if he knew him.”
“He probably does. He seems to know everyone.”
“That’s what he said. I figured it was fine to explain our plan to him.”
Naomasa nodded. “He’s trustworthy.”
“Said Midoriya was reliable if you cleared him.” Aizawa’s lips twitched in a sly grin. “Though Citizen sounded a little miffed about it.”
Bakugo scoffed. “Probably worrying he’s going to be replaced.”
Naomasa swished his coffee around in the cup. “Unlikely, he’s been the police’s top informant for two years.”
Shinsou heaved himself out of his chair and searched through the reports on the other end of the table. “Has anyone ever identified him?”
“No, and I’m not looking to.” Naomasa stood, tossing his empty coffee cup in the trash and grabbing another. “If privacy is his one requirement to continue feeding information, I am happy to oblige him. Good informants are hard to come by.”
“Think Midoriya will be?” Shinsou asked- sounding genuinely curious- a rarity for him.
"As long as he doesn’t act suspicious and screw it up, he has it handled,” Bakugo grumbled.
Shinsou grabbed a stack of reports, plopping back into his seat as he searched for mentions of the vigilantes. “I truly appreciate your thoughts Bakugo, but I wasn’t asking you.”
“Hero names while working,” Aizawa reprimanded, jolting Shinsou’s chair with his foot.
“My bad, Sensei.”
Aizawa rolled his eyes upward at the ceiling. “I’m glad you have energy for the snark. You should have plenty then to take a lap on the hell course.”
Shinsou lost his smirk.
Naomasa chuckled, frowning as his phone rang. Who was calling at 4:30 in the morning? He pulled it out. Unknown number. Naomasa’s shoulders tensed, exhaustion weighing on his limps. He took a gulp of coffee and answered. “Citizen?”
Shinsou jerked, coffee sloshing from his cup, Bakugo whirled his chair toward Naomasa, and Aizawa stayed straight-faced.
“Yup,” came the electronic reply of a voice modifier; another case of Citizen’s safeguard over his true identity.
‘Citizen,’ Aizawa mouthed.
Naomasa nodded. “Three phone calls in a night; that’s a first.”
“What can I say- busy night.”
Naomasa peeked into the hallway, police officers still scurrying around, and ducked back into the room. “I noticed.”
“Yeah, sorry about that ruining your day off. I didn’t realize they’d call you in.”
Naomasa leaned against the doorframe. “Why are you calling?”
A sheepish chuckle crackled across the line.
“Oh no,” Naomasa groaned.
Three pairs of eyes narrowed at Naomasa.
“Oh, don’t worry! It’s good news. Kinda. It depends on how you look at it.”
Naomasa turned the phone on speakerphone, and the crackle of static reverberated in the room. “I’m putting you on speakerphone. What is it?”
“Oh, who’s with you? Wait, let me guess.” Static filled the line for a couple of seconds. “Eraserhead, Dynamight, Mindwipe, Midnight, and Sir Nighteye.”
“Got two wrong, Pedestrian.”
“Well, I wasn’t wrong about, Dynamight!”
Naomasa gestured for Bakugo to be quiet. “Midnight left, and Sir Nighteye’s not here yet.”
“Really, huh, figured he’d be faster.”
Aizawa moved next to Naomasa. “Citizen, get to the point.”
“What’s up, Eraserhead! Know who Skeptic is?”
Shinsou snapped his fingers. “He’s MLA, right.”
“Very good, Mindwipe! Yeah, he’s one of the higher-ups. Anyway, he’s currently sitting chained up in the abandoned warehouse of the Trigger bust.”
They all lurched and moved at once. Shinsou chugged the last of his coffee and tossed his capture weapon over his shoulders. Bakugo slammed his computer closed, attaching his gauntlets, and yanking on his mask. Aizawa’s phone appeared in his hand, working to update heroes on the new intel. Naomasa yanked his coat from his chair and took one last sip of coffee.
“Who got him?”
“Some vigilantes left him as a gift.”
“Friends of yours?” Naomasa guessed, bolting down the hallway, Aizawa, Bakugo, and Shinsou behind him.
“I know everyone, Naomasa,” Citizen chirped. “It’s my job as a concerned citizen.”
Naomasa shook his head. Citizen was really something else. “Thanks for all the help tonight.”
“Happy to be of service. Have a nice night- well, morning now- I guess. Oh, and Naomasa?
Naomasa threw open the police station’s door. The barest sunlight touched the night sky. “Yes?”
“You can let everyone know to stop looking for Overhaul.”
Naomasa’s grip tightened on the phone.
“He’s there too.”
The line beeped and Naomasa skidded to a halt, staring down at his phone.
Citizen had hung up.