Chapter 39
A bit earlier than usual, I know, but the chapter was finished and beta read so I saw no reason to wait.
Vigilante Plan, Version Thirty-Five. Step One. Run.
Izuku, like any good mostly functional paranoiac, understood that sometimes your first instinct was incorrect. Sometimes your first instinct was lying to you. And sometimes, it was the only thing worth listening to.
Izuku listened to his first instinct and bolted.
Vigilante plan, Version Sixteen, step fourteen. UA was honeycombed with secret tunnels and exit routes, all of which would only be sealed in the case of a level three lockdown, and there was one at the rear of this Training Ground. Izuku sprinted past Aizawa, snatching the keys out of his hand as he went, and heard the secret agent behind him yell out.
"Stop! Midoriya-"
The thud and the strangled yell that followed, accompanied by Monoma's insincere apologies, gave Izuku an idea of what had happened but he didn't stay to look. He had only moments of surprise, and he needed to use them.
Training Ground Thirteen. Small City. Buildings weren't tall, but they were made to mimic apartment buildings. Urban combat, search and rescue, hostage negotiation. Not quite the early Nineteen-hundreds skyscrapers that were Izuku's element, but close enough. Grapple. Swing up, feel the thud of impact, the stress on the arm. Izuku hit the wall at a run, jumping at it and running up, feet moving between holds with unconscious precision, the reel of the grapple keeping him moving. Faster than letting it pull him. An expert technique.
Distantly he regretted not being able to teach it to Mina and Kiri.
He couldn't feel the wind on his face, but he knew it was there. He crested the building and kept running, the snap and whine of the grapple retracting behind him, running for the other edge. A headstart, an easy escape. Really, Izuku was disappointed in the HSPC, surely they'd have realised that he wasn't going to come quietly, whether he'd committed a murder or not. If they didn't expect an escape attempt then it was just poor-quality work.
The sudden appearance of another black-suited man on the edge of the roof made him up his estimate slightly. Chameleon quirk, Izuku flatly analysed, gun tucked into an inside pocket, no other weapons. Confident. Waiting for the right time, mobile and stealthy, and Izuku was still running for the edge of the building when the man moved into a brutal high kick.
Too high. Izuku dropped to his knees and slid under the kick, snapping back to his feet and hurdling the edge of the roof as the agent turned. Another building, just like the ones he'd fled through with Aizawa on his tail in that previous exam, no glass in the windows and Izuku landed running. He pushed his grapple back into place as he slid around a corner, boots screeching against the smooth concrete floors, kicking off the wall to maintain speed. He needed to buy time, more time, and maybe he could.
Through the corridor, feet pounding behind him, the tiredness starting to creep in despite the adrenaline and Izuku hit the next window, leaping out. He twisted as he leapt, spinning onto his back, and drew both pistols.
The agent behind him looked horrified for the briefest moment, just before Izuku opened fire. The thunder of the concussion rounds flayed the air, the agent vanishing into a wall of smoke and crackling bursts, and Izuku twisted to hit the ground in a roll. He was up and running again in an instant, reloading with the smooth motions of long practice. That wouldn't stop them for long.
"Attention, all staff and students," boomed a cool, automated voice, echoing across the empty space of the Training Ground, "Level One Lockdown is now in effect. Level One Lockdown is now in effect."
Vigilante Plan Version Six, step fifteen. UA had several levels of lockdown, increasing in severity and authority required to put them into effect as they went up. Level One, the simplest, could be put into place by anyone with the authority equal to a teacher, and would seal the windows on the main structure, closing the doors. A minor problem, especially as Izuku didn't intend to take a window or a door.
The higher levels could be more of an issue. But Level Two required Nedzu to enact it, and Level Three required Nedzu and no less than two teachers. Izuku was sure there were levels above that, but he didn't know what they involved – or the permissions required. If he had to guess, he'd expect a flood of hunter-killer drones – Nedzu, after all, had access to every invention spawned by the feverish imagination of the most crazed Support students. But right now, that didn't matter. Level One wouldn't stop him, he just needed to get out before it escalated.
Izuku ran down an empty corridor, cutting through three rooms and hurdling out another window. He grappled from this one, swinging down onto a road and still running, knowing where he was going, a plan carefully plotted in the past and memorised. This wasn't the hasty escape of his flight from the MLA: he knew the path. The path took him further on, aware that the HSPC agents would be gathering themselves and rushing after him, and to a door set unobtrusively into the wall, grey against grey, a single access panel next to it. Izuku ripped it open, punching in a code he'd once seen Aizawa use and carefully memorised.
Briefly, the thought of the theoretical UA traitor flashed through his mind. Could they have done something similar? Did they have the same knowledge, the same carefully planned escape routes? A shame that he might never know. The door hissed open after a moment of horrifying, heart-stopping stillness and Izuku ran into the maintenance passage, lit by the dull crimson glow of emergency lighting. Vigilante Plan Version Seventeen, step eighteen. Older versions of his gear were stowed in the Support workshop, in a go bag he'd set up for almost exactly this sort of situation, gear that he knew wouldn't contain any trackers. He needed to get there. And from there, he could take the emergency elevator from the workshop to the motor pool, and from there he could escape. Very simple.
Sometimes, Izuku wished that simple and easy were the same thing.
The maintenance corridor, or secret passage, or whatever it really was took winding, narrow paths around the school. It dipped sharply almost immediately, burrowing under the ground to pass unremarked, but the only noise was the steady thrum of the lockdown alert and the pounding of Izuku's boots, his breaths echoing in his ears. Behind him he heard the shuddering shouts, words glancing off the plain metal walls and pursuing him as the HSPC agents made it into the tunnels and started running after him. Calculations clattered around his skull, chasing each other through his mind and he reached into a pocket, freed a single foam grenade, dropped it behind him. Delay, delay, delay.
"The more you run, the worse it will be!" shouted one of his pursuers, loud but strained with the effort of chasing him and struggling past the foam, "Just give up! If you're innocent there's nothing to fear!"
Izuku was pretty sure he'd once read some witty quip about that, something about an innocent man having nothing to fear from the cops, but he couldn't remember it. Didn't matter. Even if they eventually decided the video was faked and he really was innocent, anything could happen in that time. Especially if the MLA had agents in the HSPC, which was almost certain. He would be better off investigating on his own, even if it meant burning some bridges. His helmet crackled faintly, something connecting, and then voices started to flood out of it. Izuku grimaced at the sudden clamour, but the information was worth it.
"We have to stop him, what good is a lockdown if it can't stop one kid?" a voice demanded, "Put the higher lockdowns into effect!"
"Deepest apologies," Nedzu said, sounding anything but apologetic, "But any lockdown level that would help is out of the question, I'm afraid! You see, it requires at least two other teachers, and they simply aren't here."
"Eraserhead is in the Training Ground, and there has to be another one somewhere! If you're stalling-"
"Dear me, if I was stalling Mr Midoriya would have been gone before you even gained access," Nedzu lied brightly, "I'll call the present teachers up here, but who knows how long it will take? Aizawa is still suffering from his unfortunate eye injury, you know."
At least Izuku knew there were some people on his side, he reflected as he reached the end of the corridor. There was another door, another pad, and Izuku almost slammed into the wall as he hurriedly pushed at the buttons. Another hiss, another slide of metal and Izuku stumbled through into the Support Workshop, already running towards his cache. One glance let him know that it was practically buried so he changed directions, swinging across to the hidden elevator. This one didn't need a code – it was for emergencies, after all – and so as soon as he swung open the panel and punched the call button it started to rise. Izuku turned back, running to the pile of almost certainly dangerous rejects that hid his prize.
"What the hell? How does he know where any of this is?" demanded the voice of the HSPC rep in his ear and Izuku tried to ignore the byplay as he dug through bits and pieces, shoving them aside and hoping that nothing exploded.
"It's in the emergency evacuation handbook," Nedzu said cheerfully, "Mr Midoriya requested copies of the relevant materials on his third day! It's wonderful to see a member of the younger generation who makes sure they know procedures, don't you think?"
"And you didn't think that was suspicious?"
"Paranoia is not a crime," Nedzu sang out, "Something I'm sure you appreciate, given that you haven't even provided your real name. Agent Takemura, yes? A reasonable pseudonym."
The noise of pure frustration the agent made was a balm to Izuku's soul as he muscled a half-finished exoskeleton arm away from the mess and shoved his left arm into the pile, groping around until his fingers closed around the bag he knew was there. He heaved it out of the mess, a non-descript messenger bag that carried a spare costume complete with helmet and armour, and an assortment of gadgets that he'd collected. Good enough. There was a heavy bang against the corridor door and Izuku pushed up from his knees and swung the bag around, sliding it across the ground and into the elevator.
The door hissed open, metal on metal, and Izuku drew his gun as he ran for the elevator. Right hand draw, foam rounds, and he swung it up and opened fire at the doorway. The first HSPC agent made it through, the man with the scales of a chameleon, diving under Izuku's line of fire before it drove the others back, Izuku jumping to slide across the workbench that was in his way. His gun clicked empty and he spun as he landed, just a little more time.
Thumb the catch, let the magazine fall, reach down with the left hand and grasp a new magazine, hand coming up to reload. A hand on his wrist, preventing him from finishing the motion, the agent drawing back their other hand. Flip the gun in his right hand, throwing it into the air, convert the motion into a knife-hand strike to the upper chest, shove them back. Left hand coming up, magazine sliding smoothly into the falling gun, level it. Two foam rounds to each leg, pinning the man in place.
Step back, swap his gun back to his right hand, draw his left-hand pistol, still loaded with concussion rounds.
Vigilante Plan Fourteen, step sixteen. The Support Workshop was full of volatile equipment, most of which would be a very bad idea to disturb. This meant, in turn, that it was a very effective distraction. Two shots rang out, catching the bottom of a pile of abandoned projects, and Izuku silently apologised to Hatsume as they started to fall. Another step back, into the elevator, and the doors slammed shut in front of his face with terrible emphasis.
The elevator was brutally fast, dropping with a speed that made Izuku's stomach lurch and made his knees feel heavy with gravity, but he tolerated it in exchange for speed. He reloaded as he went, a moment of thought before choosing concussion rounds in both. He didn't have any more and he wouldn't have any way to get more, but he couldn't do anything about it now. This was no time to be stingy. The elevator came to a halt with a grinding shutter that rattled his teeth and Izuku picked up his bag of gear, slinging it over his shoulder to rest comfortably against his back.
"How does this child even know how to do this," demanded the HSPC agent, "What have you idiots been teaching him? He shouldn't be able to do any of this!"
"If you believe him capable of cold-blooded murder, why are you surprised at his ability to escape?" Nedzu asked. Izuku appreciated the way he was aggravating the man, but that wasn't quite the reassuring rhetoric he'd wanted to hear.
"You said you didn't think he was guilty."
"And I don't! But I do enjoy rhetorical traps, even if they're crude, and you left that one quite open. I will advise, however, that you don't underestimate Mr Midoriya. He's quite the prodigy."
The HSPC agent growled, the sound coming static through Izuku's helmet. This wouldn't last much longer, it would only be a distraction, but it was good to have confirmation that Nedzu was at least probably on his side.
The motor pool was empty, just as Izuku had expected. The HSPC agents had been chasing him, not laying ambushes, and they hadn't expected him to make it this far. Naïve, really. He'd miss being underestimated when the time came.
Vigilante Plan Version Eighteen, step six. The UA motor pool vehicles all used the same key, in order to simplify logistics. This meant that every vehicle in there that wasn't sealed off in some way was accessible to Izuku, including the sleek motorbike that he'd had his eye on ever since he'd first seen it. And, better, the motor pool wouldn't lock down to the outside without a level three lockdown, in order to remain as an option for evacuation, which meant…
Izuku slung a leg over the bike and felt it purr beneath him as he started it up. Despite everything, his lips stretched into a grin.
Finally.
Vigilante Plan Version Twelve, step twelve. Catch me if you can.
Izuku gunned the engine and roared out onto the darkening streets. Who'd come after him, he wondered, already planning his route. Cars? Bikes? Helicopters? Heroes with some kind of movement Quirks? Time to find out.
City streets, damp with a starting drizzle and lit by the harsh glare of white lights, almost like home. Almost. The lights in Gotham were very rarely white – but it was close enough. Close enough, and he could already hear the sirens starting up.
"How did he get a bike? You know what Nedzu, I don't care. This has gone on for long enough!"
"Are you so sure you'll catch him?" Nedzu sniped, "Your men haven't been doing so well so far. Don't you want a way to track him?"
A pause. Izuku took the moment to swerve between two cars, ignoring the blaring of their horns as he continued to speed up.
"Do you have trackers on him?"
"Oh, I certainly do! He's paranoid, yes, but I managed to get one into the helmet he's wearing and one into his jacket. Two only, though, I'm afraid."
If Izuku managed to get through this and prove his innocence, he was going to have to get Nedzu something nice for handing him all this information. Chocolates, maybe? Could Nedzu eat chocolate, was it toxic to him? He'd have to find out, Izuku mused as he blew through a red light and kept going. He probably wasn't making any friends by riding like this but hey, at least he was on a bike and not in the Batmobile. The faint click in his ear let him know that Nedzu had disconnected now, the connection being harder to hide as they got further away, but that was good enough. He'd heard enough.
The clamour of sirens was only growing, and Izuku was really starting to wonder at the priorities of the HSPC. He'd assumed they'd been infiltrated by the MLA and that the darker portions of the group wanted him, possibly to replace Nagant. But this? For one man, not even really a man, a teenager? This was ludicrous. Then again, when heroes did most of the heavy lifting with regards to crime-stopping he guessed the police had nothing better to do. He needed to get off these main roads, in that case. They were good for speed but they were too easy to chase him down on. He'd trade speed for being able to lose the cops in the tangle any day. And speaking of cops, they were getting closer. His bike was almost certainly faster, given the benefits of UA Support, but the police could come from any side and they'd definitely be trying to cut him off. Which meant it was time to stop playing nice.
Izuku pulled hard to his right, swerving across the road in a manoeuvre so recklessly dangerous that it made his heart sing even as he bemoaned the effort it took, still growing body not as strong as he would be. He heard the screeching of tyres as the closest police tried to follow, completely failing due to the flow of traffic and a lack of general suicidal tendencies. Embarrassing, in Izuku's considered opinion. The Gotham police had never hesitated to cause multi-car pileups.
In hindsight, the Gotham police were not a good example. Izuku hadn't caused any crashes yet either, or no serious ones, but that was another reason to get off the main roads. That luck wouldn't hold forever.
He slid around a corner, taking it at a speed that was inadvisable even for him, and pushed the bike's speed again. He could hear the heavy beating of a helicopter rotor and, for a ludicrous moment, wondered if he'd be on the news. Well, he'd probably be on the news anyway, but high-speed bike chases were cooler than murder.
Three, four, five pursuing cars boiled around the corner, no bikes at least, and Izuku gritted his teeth. This road was nearly empty, but if he couldn't lose them he couldn't make a break for it, he couldn't drop off his equipment. It just made everything harder and harder, but outrunning a helicopter was a bit of a pipe dream unless he could find some cover.
Izuku pulled sharply across into the wrong lane, swerving through oncoming traffic in an attempt to throw off his pursuers. From the glance he took in his mirrors it seemed to be working, but it would always be temporary and he turned hard down another street, this one even more minor. Try and find a road that was busy enough that he could slip through but the cars couldn't? Maybe, but at this time of night? Izuku never thought he'd regret living in a city with good public transport, what happened to good old-fashioned gridlocks?
Water sprayed from his tyres as he blazed down the street, already calculating. He was starting to run out of plans now, but he'd winged things before and he'd do it again. And all those initial plans that had ended in a glorious last stand – he didn't have time for that, not now. He slid around another corner, arms aching at the effort, and kept moving, cutting through the city. He was being corralled, he thought as he kept half an eye on the cars that were piling in, driving him towards the centre of the city where it was cut by a river, forcing him towards a place where he'd have to risk a bridge or plunge into the river itself.
Hmm.
Izuku mounted the curb to avoid some traffic, the thunder of going along flagstones rather than asphalt rattling his whole skeleton in a way his lingering injuries didn't appreciate, but his mind was locked onto something else. Maybe this was a way out, he thought, mentally assigning it another step. Vigilante Plan, Version Thirty-Five, step twenty-one: reach the river. The mental map unfolded in his head, the fastest way there, and Izuku twisted back onto the road, another corner, burning rubber towards a crossing. It should be clear. He hoped it was clear.
And there was a car right in front of him, blocking the crossing. It was like he lived in a movie, Izuku realised, and not a highly intellectual one.
It was a good thing that he liked bad action movies. Izuku flashed a look around the streets, looking for something, anything. Ah. There it was – a building, probably damaged in a villain attack, with scaffolding on the front. He drew his gun with a single hand, his only remaining hand fighting the bike with all his strength as it bucked and struggled under him, more like a wild animal than a vehicle, and shot only twice.
Two bullets smashed into the poles holding up the scaffolding, making a portion of it fall. The wooden platform that made up half of it, but with the poles at the other end it didn't fall all the way, still held up in the air. A perfect ramp. This was either about to be very cool, Izuku told himself, or if the wood broke it was going to be very embarrassing.
He tore up the makeshift ramp, tyres screeching, and the wood held. He hit the top at full speed, bursting through the air, jaw clenching for a moment as he soared over the car, seeing the cop in there looking up with a slack jaw and stunned eyes. A moment of glorious weightlessness, like the moment of flying on a grapple, the instant of knowing you'd won, and then the slam of impact, back wheel first and the speed as the rubber bit again and kicked him forwards wrenched at his bones. Izuku laughed, giddy with the speed, and tore onwards.
Vigilante Plan – okay, the joke might be nearly played out for this one. But hell, ditching into a river was always a fan-favourite, and there was a river conveniently close by. Izuku weaved through three cars, the blasting of horns barely audible over the roar of the engine in his ears and the howl of the wind in his blood. The idle thought crossed his mind that he might prove his innocence only to be arrested for dangerous driving, but that was the part that made it all fun. He twisted to his left, burning through an alleyway that was barely wide enough for the bike, and burst back out onto the road, swerving wildly as he slid to the side before getting the bike back under control. The river was close by, and so was the bridge he needed. He almost hoped this was being filmed, because he wanted to watch it back.
He didn't think it overcame his desire to avoid his Mom seeing this, but it was a close thing.
There weren't so many cars behind him now, the police unable to keep up, but the helicopter was still overhead and Izuku huffed as a spotlight fell onto him. How long did he have, he distantly thought, before a Hero came to snatch him up? If it were him he'd send Hawks, he thought. Have the high-speed flier just swoop overhead and wrench him off the bike, carry him into the waiting arms of the HSPC or the police or whichever group was after his head today.
Yeah, he'd prefer to avoid that. But it wasn't far now, not far at all, and he turned onto another main road and saw the flash of dark, fast waters just to his side, the rain beginning to churn the surface. This wasn't going to be pleasant but it would be effective, and Izuku pried just a little more speed from the bike as he made for a bridge. Just another deception, hopefully one of the last for now.
The bridge, rising to cut him off. If he'd been aiming to jump it, he'd have been very upset – but he wasn't. It was a shame, a hell of a shame to ditch a bike like this, but it would be more of a shame to end up in some knock-off Suicide Squad. Izuku wasn't fond of explosive collars. Time to sell the crash and he twisted the handlebars hard, turning the bike and sliding hard, as though he was trying to stop. He was too close to the edge, too fast, just as he'd known, and the screech of the tyres on the asphalt cut out as he went over the edge.
This was a horrible plan.
He hit the water hard, the only saving grace being the bike shattering the surface tension before he hit, the spluttering roar of the engine choked off by the water. The current was already dragging at him with greedy fingers, liquid flooding into the gaps in his armour, cold and unforgiving.
Izuku kicked away from the bike, fingers already scrabbling at his helmet, popping the catches and ripping it free. It was a wrench to lose his helmet and a bigger one to lose his jacket, but those were the easiest things to lose, the easiest trail to lay, and he let his helmet slip free as he crammed the rebreather into his mouth. He sucked in the first breath, kicking hard to get deeper, and let his jacket slip. He had another one hidden away in his cache, at least, but that was his good jacket, the one he'd faced Stain in. The one he'd worn since after the USJ, the one he'd nearly died in on I-Island. He hoped someone took good care of it, given that leather didn't exactly react well to being soaked in water. Hopefully it would give his pursuers pause, maybe even make them stop to try a rescue mission as they chased the spark of crimson that was his helmet. Izuku dived deeper instead, down into the cold dark where the current took him, and let it carry him away faster than he could hope to swim.
He counted under his breath, mentally estimating the distance he'd crossed, until at last he kicked hard, thumping against the side of the river. Out of the worst of the current, he made his way down until he found a ladder, metal rungs set into the concrete channel.
Izuku hauled himself out of the river, tucking the rebreather into his pocket in a fit of sheer paranoia, and looked around. Nobody waiting for him, nobody flying overhead, but that didn't mean anything for certain. Still. A successful escape, if he did say so himself, so long as he didn't catch a cold from the water. Now all he needed was a safehouse.
Things had been easier in Gotham. Still, so long as there was somewhere to go, Izuku mused as he turned into the nearest alleyway, and vanished into the shadows.
Vigilante Plan Thirty-Five, step twenty-eight. Find somewhere to plan your next move.
He didn't know what step twenty-nine would be, but it had better be a doozy.
One day, Mina would learn that Midori had done something stupid without hearing about it on the 1-A group chat. Today wasn't that day, but she had hope. Even if it was just him texting her to let her know, that couldn't be too much to ask right? But no. The first thing she knew about his latest problem was when her Mom shouted her downstairs, to where the tv was playing live footage of a police chase. A police chase with Midori, because she absolutely couldn't mistake that sense of style, as the subject.
"Mina?" her mom asked as she drew closer to the screen, eyes fixed on Midori – and where had he learned to ride a bike like that? She knew he had a bunch of skills that he rarely brought up, but this was getting ridiculous – and watched in silence. The breaking news ribbon scrolled across the bottom of the screen. "Rogue Hero Student, Red Hood, flees from police following murder." Mina nearly laughed out loud, because this was – this was insane.
"Mom, that's – that's Izuku. My friend."
Her Mom's eyes widened. Mina turned back, just in time to see the bike burst off a rising bridge and plunge into the water, Izuku kicking free just in time. Numbly she picked up her phone, her fingers dialling almost without thinking, starting a group call.
"Kiri," she said as soon as it started and Kiri joined, "Have you seen – have you seen the news?"
"With Izuku?" Kiri said, his tone grim, "Yeah. I was at UA, at Kendo's combat club thing, when it started."
"What happened? What's going on?"
Kiri didn't reply immediately and Mina felt her heart rate speed up, worry twisting through her. Kiri coughed and a new voice cut in – Kendo, she must be there as well.
"Ashido," she said quietly, carefully, "He's – some men came to arrest Midoriya."
Arrest him? That was insane. What could even make someone do that.
"I don't – what are we even supposed to do? What's he done?"
"You haven't seen?" Kiri asked, "Mina, he – they're saying he killed someone."
Mina went still, eyes flicking over the tv screen that was now just showing the chase again. Midori, kill someone? That – no. It was – no.
"No way," she said, and found her voice steadier than she had expected, "No way. There's no way Midori would kill someone and get caught."
Her Mom took a deep, shocked breath, probably because Mina hadn't said that Midori wouldn't kill someone – she couldn't say that, because she didn't believe it. He wouldn't just murder someone, maybe, but she knew what he'd done to Shigaraki at the USJ. If he had to, he would. It was one of those things that they didn't like to bring up about him.
"It's not him," Mina said, "It can't be. It's not him."
"Mina?" Kiri asked and Mina closed her eyes, words fighting each other in her throat. She didn't know what – no. No, she knew what to do.
"What're the teachers doing, Kiri?" she asked. Kiri cleared his throat.
"Aizawa is down here and so's Vlad King," he said, "The guys who came to arrest Izuku are talking about interviewing us, but I don't think the Principal is going to let them. Or at least, not alone. I don't know what they're doing about Izuku."
"Right," Mina said, looking at her Mom, "Right. Mom. I need to get to UA."
"You're sure?" her Mom asked, "It sounds like there's going to be trouble."
She met Mina's eyes briefly and then looked across at the tv, that was showing once again Izuku's plunge into the river. Something cold settled in Mina's stomach, a fear that she wasn't going to acknowledge. Instead she just nodded.
"He's my friend, Mom," she said, "I can't wait until I'm back at school."
Her Mom nodded, decisively.
"What are we waiting for, then?"
UA was buzzing with police, although they mostly seemed to be on the outside. Mina hurried up to the gate, where a cordon of police were blocking entry. She wasn't sure how she'd get through, but as she approached the intercom by the gate buzzed.
"Ah, Miss Ashido," Nedzu's recognisable voice said, "I suspected you would be arriving soon. Let them in, officer. I'd like to speak to Miss Ashido."
The officer eyed her but stepped aside, and Mina hurried through the gate with her Mom on her heels. Vlad King was waiting there, expression grim and arms folded.
"Miss Ashido," he said, "Mrs Ashido. Sorry you had to come out this late."
"What's happening?" her Mom said, "We saw the news, but…"
Vlad's lips drew together, a hard expression, but his voice remained calm.
"You've seen the news?" he asked. When Mina nodded he continued.
"If you've seen the chase, you know about as much as I do. Midoriya swung into the club meeting about halfway through, looking like he'd been through the wringer and asking for some car keys. The HSPC guys turned up to arrest him right after, playing that video of him killing someone. Supposedly."
"You don't believe it?" Mina asked, clutching at the hope that one of her teachers agreed with her. Vlad King gave her a steady look.
"I don't think Midoriya's stupid enough to kill someone on camera. Nedzu will get it sorted out – come on, I'll take you to him. He wanted your input on something, and if I leave you to go alone the HSPC'll be all over you."
"Is that bad?" Mina's Mom asked, her tone alarmed. Vlad shrugged as he started to walk, the two of them obediently trailing him.
"Normally, probably not," he said, "But let's just say that they're not one hundred percent on the whole adult present during questioning thing. You've got your Mom, but even so. You weren't even here, there's no reason to question you."
They took a quick path through UA, corridors lit but quiet. Vlad told them what he knew as they went, the attempted arrest turned into escape attempt, and Mina shook her head.
"How come I get a regular education, and Midori is apparently in some kind of spy movie or something?"
"You have better luck," Vlad said dryly. Mina wasn't sure she agreed, but she noticed the expression on her Mom's face and wisely said nothing. They reached the Principal's office – Mina had never been there before, but the title above the door was hard to miss – and found both Tsuyu and Kiri waiting outside. Vlad King swept an eye over the two of them, grumbling something under his breath.
"Mrs Ashido," he said, "I – hmm. If you want to go in with Miss Ashido, I won't stop you. But there are some things that you might be better off not knowing, at least for now."
"And Mina would be okay knowing them?" Mina's Mom asked, a snap in her voice. Mina could guess what it might be about – whatever infiltration Midori had been doing now, it had finally gone wrong. She bit her lip again, trying to find the words to intervene, but Vlad King spoke again first.
"I think Miss Ashido already knows," he said quietly, "And if she wants to tell you, that's her choice. I won't stop you going in with her, but it's her choice. It has to be."
"Mina?" her Mom said, looking at her, and Mina swallowed.
"Mom, I – I have to know."
Her Mom looked right at her, meeting her eyes, and Mina didn't look away.
"Alright," her Mom said quietly, "I'll – I'll be right outside, okay?"
Mina nodded.
"Okay, Mom. Thank you," she said, turning back towards the door.
Mina walked into a warzone.
"You trained him, you equipped him, you know him! You didn't tell us any of his skills!" a man shouted at Nedzu, sunglasses clenched in one trembling fist and his black suit ruffled. Nedzu, apparently unaffected, sat calmly behind his desk.
"I hardly expected agents hand-picked by the HSPC to bring in a single student to fail," Nedzu said, his mockery delivered in such a reasonable tone that Mina felt her blood boil, "But I will certainly bear it in mind in the future. Mr Midoriya has escaped, it's impossible to say otherwise."
"He escaped," the man said through gritted teeth, "Because he had a key to the bike that he used, which he got from one of your teachers. Your incompetence, Aizawa, means that a killer is on the streets!"
Aizawa looked completely unruffled, or no more ruffled than his normal appearance. He was seated at a table that looked slightly out of place in Nedzu's office, pen in hand and moving easily over papers despite his blindfold being in place.
"I'm blindfolded," he said, "I can't see at the moment. I don't see how I could have prevented Midoriya from taking the keys."
Izuku had once said that he didn't know if he aspired to be like Aizawa or feared it. Mina, watching Aizawa rage-bait a man without even looking at him, could only agree.
"You're blindfol – you can see! You're grading papers right now!"
Aizawa tilted his head. It probably would have been an absolutely withering look if, again, his eyes hadn't been hidden.
"I've been a teacher for a while," he said, "It becomes second nature."
"Second nature?" the investigator hissed. Aizawa didn't smile, but his pen kept moving. Actually, if he did just mark based on vibes that might explain a lot. The guy whirled back to Nedzu.
"Are you – are you playing with me? Are your staff? Are any of you even taking this seriously?"
The accusation rang heavily in the room, the air going still. Even the agent, panting with anger, seemed to realise that he'd crossed a line.
"Oh," Nedzu said, still so very calm, "I'm taking this very seriously."
Mina hadn't interacted with the Principal much, but she got the impression that this wasn't exactly normal, that his quiet calm indicated something severe. Aizawa seemed to pick up on it to, his pen ceasing movement and his blinded head turning to the Principal.
"You see," Principal Nedzu said, "You received that video slightly ahead of the release, as any good conspiracy would require. Rather than accept my advice, you decided that the best way to react to a filmed murder, in this day of AI fakes and picture manipulation and, frankly speaking, Quirks which can do both was to assume it was correct and pursue one of my students, taking over my school in the process. You then proceeded to utterly botch both the initial capture and the following pursuit, and now one of my students may be injured or even dead, lost in a river. So no, I am not playing with you, Agent. I am planning quite carefully. But so far you have not impressed. In fact, I think my report on you will be quite unfavourable. Does that answer your question, Agent Takemura?"
Takemura opened his mouth, but whatever he was about to say died in front of Nedzu's implacable stare. He stepped back and Nedzu looked over to Mina.
"Ah. Miss Ashido, Miss Asui, Mr Kirishima. Thank you for coming. I wanted your opinions on what happened to Mr Midoriya, as you know him best."
Mina glanced around at Tsuyu and Kiri and, seeing no objections, stepped forwards.
"Sir," she said, "Principal Nedzu. You – what happened to Midori? All I've seen is what was on the news."
Nedzu looked at her. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking, hidden behind dark eyes and an unsmiling mouth, but he nodded.
"It can hardly be hidden," he said, tapping at his keyboard. The video flickered into life on the wall-screen and Mina's mouth went dry. She watched it in silence, just like they all did, a hand hiding her mouth. Mina glanced at Kiri and Tsuyu, who were both pale.
"It's not Izuku," she said, when they didn't speak. Nedzu spread his paws.
"While I do agree with you, I'm afraid that your faith isn't enough," he said, "Why do you think it isn't him? I know the video is real, it's not AI generated and none of the tools at my disposal could detect doctoring. You think it isn't Mr Midoriya: why?"
"Can you rewind it?" Mina asked. Nedzu gestured broadly at the still image.
"The wall is touch sensitive," he said, "You can rewind it yourself, as well."
Mina carefully approached, moving the slider back so they were at the start. She paused it just after Izuku, or the Izuku lookalike, had pistol-whipped the Hero.
"This bit," she said, "He's not using his own guns, fine. He wouldn't be, because they're kept at UA. But the – the safety is on, that's fine. That's right, there's no way he'd be so reckless that he'd hit someone with a gun that could go off. But right here, there, look."
Mina pointed to the small movement the imposter made as they stepped back and levelled the pistol, something she'd only noticed from months spent practicing alongside Izuku.
"He takes the safety off properly, he uses the proper method," she explained, "That's fine. It's not exactly how Midori usually does it, but he might have been careful. But here, right here – he tilts the gun to see it properly. I do the same thing. But Midori doesn't, because he's an expert. He doesn't need to see the safety to disengage it."
"Works for those of us who know Midoriya," Aizawa said gruffly, "But we're going to need more. Anything else, Ashido?"
Mina nodded and moved on slightly, until the moment when he actually fired. She swallowed hard, trying not to look at the Hero who'd been shot. He was out of focus, but the spray of white-speckled crimson still made her stomach churn and her throat thicken uncomfortably.
"This, here," she said, "When he – when he shoots. He flinches. It's not just not being able to control the recoil, though there's that too, but he actually flinches. Like he's not used to firing a gun at all."
The video played, showing the motion, and from a two handed firing stance as well. Mina had seen Izuku dive through the air, firing a gun in each hand, and not react. This wasn't Izuku, she was certain of it. She'd been certain of it before, sure, but now she actually had proof.
"Plus," Kirishima said, "There's no way Izuku would get caught on camera, right? I mean, maybe if he wanted to, but if he did why would he be surprised when it got released? It doesn't make sense."
"He wouldn't take his helmet off, ribbit."
"Exactly," Mina said, pointing at Tsuyu, "He literally never takes his helmet off when he's fighting in costume. Even in training."
"Even on I-Island, when he took it off to mess with the wiring, he put it back on as soon as he could."
"Right," Mina agreed, "There's no way he'd take his helmet off when he was on camera, and he knew he was on camera. There's no way."
It didn't make sense, and Principal Nedzu clapped his paws together. Aizawa grunted.
"Still circumstantial evidence that it's not him," he said, "But I guess we weren't going to get more. And-"
"And any doubt is reasonable doubt in this case," Nedzu continued cheerfully, "Agent Takemura, I am disappointed! All of the resources available to your people, and you've missed things that several teenagers could see."
The agent, Takemura, shifted uncomfortably and Mina saw him scowl from the corner of her eye. Nedzu continued before the man could say anything.
"It's good, however, that the three of your can still see clearly. The coming weeks may be difficult for you. I've been able to keep journalists away so far, but they know that Mr Midoriya is part of class 1-A and they will soon realise who his closest friends are. Maintaining a clear head will be important, both for you and possibly for him, though I will try to keep the vultures away."
Journalists. Mina felt her heart sink, though maybe she should have expected it. It had been bad enough after the USJ and even after I-Island, although that had been further away. She could only imagine what it would be like now.
"Is there a story we should be sticking to, sir?" Tsuyu asked, speaking up again. Nedzu looked at her thoughtfully, his paws tapping at the table with a soft click.
"No, I don't think so," he said, "Simply be honest. Your friend was framed, you can use the issues that Miss Ashido helpfully pointed out to indicate if you like, and you don't know anything else. The press might try to question you about Mr Midoriya's past, his attitude, anything like that. Please remember that you can refuse to answer questions from journalists."
Nedzu turned his head, clearly looking at the HSPC agent in the room.
"Or anyone else, for that matter."
The man bristled, but under Nedzu's gaze he didn't say anything.
"Do the HSPC intend to make a statement regarding this particular debacle," Aizawa asked from his corner, "Or are they going to just let it lie and hope everyone believes them when the truth comes out?"
"The truth is yet to be determined," snapped Takemura, "Your faith in Midoriya is admirable, but likely misplaced."
"Oh, you've uncovered a motive for the murder, then?" Nedzu asked, "You've found the victim and the murder weapon?"
"He was caught on camera and he fled from us, an innocent man doesn't do that."
The unimpressed looks that both Nedzu and Aizawa levelled at the man was something to behold, even more so in Aizawa's case given that his eyes couldn't be seen.
"You ambushed him after he'd already been attacked by someone else," Aizawa said, "Only an idiot would just give in."
Takemura ground his teeth, but somehow managed to avoid shouting in the face of the irritation.
"Listen," he said, "If I talk to the higher ups and get them to agree that we'll play nice, we'll investigate, will you contact Midoriya and ask him to come quietly? We can sort all this out afterwards."
Nedzu gave him a look that Mina couldn't read.
"With assurances from the HSPC directors that Mr Midoriya won't be railroaded and that a proper investigation will be carried out, I'll contact him," he said, "But don't be surprised if he refuses to come in. This incident can hardly have improved his opinion of the HSPC."
"If he won't work with us, then we can't work with him," Takemura said harshly, "I know my superiors will say that."
"I'm sure he thinks he'd do better without you. I've no doubt that he's already planning his search for the imposter."
"You're certain that there's an imposter. And I take it that you'll be looking for them too?" Takemura asked, and even Mina could see the trap there, trying to get Nedzu to admit that he would be helping Izuku.
"Oh no, Agent Takemura," Nedzu said, lips peeling back in an expression that showed an alarming number of teeth. Mina had once heard Izuku say that he sometimes couldn't tell if Nedzu was smiling or planning to eat someone, and now she understood. She was rooted to the spot, and it seemed Agent Takemura was as well, nobody moving as Nedzu continued.
"Whoever orchestrated this event – because it is orchestrated, for the video to be released and timed so well that you could catch Mr Midoriya – has declared war on Mr Midoriya. As a student of UA they have, therefore, declared war on UA. And as the Principal of UA, well, they have declared war on me, personally. Do I seem like the sort of being to take such a declaration lightly, Agent Takemura?"
Yeah, that was a loaded question. And when Mina said loaded, she meant like a grenade launcher loaded. Like one of Hatsume's more terrifying experiments loaded. Takemura must have realised it too, because he took a moment to reply.
"No, Principal, you don't," he said, "So you won't just be looking for them."
"Not just," Nedzu agreed. Takemura nodded.
"If that's all, then, I'll take word back to my superiors," he said, stiff-necked and grim. Nedzu simply inclined his head, watching Takemura leave through the door. He waited for a few minutes before sighing and looking back at Mina, Tsu and Kiri.
"If there's any word of advice I can give you here," Nedzu said, "It's to be careful around the HSPC. They mean well, I'm sure, but I'm less confident in their methods. Did Mr Midoriya tell you about Lady Nagant?"
"He said she went crazy," Mina said carefully, picking up on what Nedzu meant – what had Midori been keeping from them? What had he realised that had, now that she thought about it, worried him enough that he'd never brought it up again?
"Hmm. Well, it might even be true. Still, exercising a little caution is never a bad thing, is it?" Nedzu asked, cheerfully brushing over the topic. Mina thought about asking, but there were more important things going on.
"Sir, is this – is Midori on the run because of the MLA thing? I know he was still looking into them."
Nedzu went quiet, giving her a look that sent a chill through her. Suddenly Mina knew what mice felt like when a cat was watching them, and she really wasn't a fan.
"I'm certain you don't need to be reminded of this," Nedzu said at last, "But what I'm about to tell you cannot leave this room. Do you understand?"
Mina nodded, saw Kiri and Tsu do the same from the corner of her eye. Aizawa stirred in his corner, his rough voice cutting through the silence.
"Why are you telling them all of this?" he asked, "It's not like you."
Nedzu folded his paws together, looking down at his teacup before returning his gaze to Mina, Tsuyu and Kiri.
"Because," he said, "This is a delicate time. Conspiracy after conspiracy is coming to fruition, plans are beginning to cross and conflict, and Mr Midoriya is caught up in it all. I've no doubt that if I left the three of you in the dark – and this goes for the rest of your class as well – you would attempt to assist Mr Midoriya. It would only put you and him in danger, and I cannot abide that. So. I will tell you now that we are going to help Mr Midoriya. All I am asking is that you trust us to do the right thing and give us time."
Mina bit her lip. She should say yes, she knew, she should trust the Principal and the teachers. They hadn't given her any reason not to trust them, but – but Midori had trusted them, and what was he doing now? On the run, after driving into a river, and the reminder made a cold hand clutch at her heart. She blinked hard, instinctively, and forced herself to try and think about it calmly, try to mimic Izuku. What would he do in a case like this?
He would trust Nedzu, wouldn't he? At least, for the moment. He'd give the Principal a chance and then, maybe, he'd do something about it himself. Ah, who was she kidding? He'd heard vaguely about Quirk supremacists and gone looking for them, he'd absolutely do something himself. But not immediately.
"Okay," she said, "Okay."
"We wouldn't know where to start, anyway," Kiri said. He didn't mention that they wouldn't let that stop them, but he probably didn't need to. Nedzu nodded, though Aizawa scoffed quietly. Tsuyu said nothing, and Mina wasn't sure if it meant she agreed with Nedzu or didn't see the point in arguing. Hopefully the first.
"Mr Midoriya was indeed continuing his investigation into the MLA," Nedzu said, "The reporter who drafted the damning article, Chitose, is one of their higher ranks. She attempted to capture or kill Midoriya earlier today."
Mina's fist clenched, but she said nothing. Nedzu nodded.
"She failed, obviously, but this video must have been a backup plan. Perhaps not as good, but it worked. And the MLA have been clever," he said, "Very clever, because even though their video is rushed the public have seen it, and the first impression is the most important. Any attempt we make to expose the MLA will now be tainted by association to what the public believe to be an unrepentant murderer."
"It won't last forever, though," Aizawa said, "Even if Midoriya's making things harder, exposing them will still ruin whatever they're planning, if it relies on staying hidden."
There was a moment of pause, where Mina looked at Kiri and Tsu to see if they understood what was going on. Tsuyu frowned, but Aizawa continued before anybody else could speak.
"Which means that they're no longer going to be relying on staying hidden," he said, "Meaning that whatever plan they've got ready, it must be close. But that's a matter for another time, and another place."
That was – that wasn't good. But Mina wasn't Izuku, so she didn't go into a paranoid spiral about what might happen. Instead she took a deep breath, lifted her chin, and looked Nedzu in the eye.
"Is Izuku – is he alright?" Mina asked. Nedzu actually smiled this time, she thought, and a paw tapped at his desk. The screen on the wall lit up again, this time a fuzzy video from what was maybe some kind of security camera. A dark shape moved into the view from the right, pausing and glancing up at the camera. Mina felt the cold, twisting fear that had clung to her since she'd watched Izuku plunge into the river melt away as Izuku smiled grimly up at the camera, a hand raking his sopping hair back from his face and pushing it back before he vanished from the camera.
"He's alright," she breathed, sagging slightly. Nedzu nodded.
"Indeed he is," he said, "And it's my job to make sure he stays that way. So long, of course, as he doesn't do it himself."
Nedzu paused, looking back at the last image of Izuku.
"He's rather good at it," he said, "It almost makes a being feel inadequate."
Well, well. A car chase and a dramatic plunge into dark waters, how dramatic All Might's precious protégé was. Maybe Toshinori had picked a good choice after all: a Quirkless child burning with ambition, just as All Might had been when Nana Shimura had seen some destiny in him, perhaps? Well, who was to know.
All For One drew in a deep breath, letting it rumble out of his chest in a long chuckle. It almost reminded him of the old days, he thought, back when Quirks were new and Vigilantes were the in thing. Fewer explosions, to be certain, than back when those old Heroes had been tearing up the streets in pursuit of villainy and the thrill of self-righteousness, but that could be rectified.
"The boy escaped," Garaki said, his moustache bristling with his disappointment, "A shame. Perhaps the MLA and HSPC are less capable than we thought."
"Or the boy more capable," All for One said, "But this is better, perhaps. The MLA will be desperate to hunt down Midoriya, to look strong if nothing else. Flect Turn and his band of zealots will be desperate to save him, so that they can add the prestige of a Hero to their ranks. There will be panic, chaos. Opportunity."
"And what of Tomura? He's obsessed with the boy, you know. Fixated on killing him personally, in some grand battle."
"I'll speak to him, find him some distraction. His obsession, properly directed, will be useful. Is that all, Doctor?"
Garaki nodded to him, turning away. Eager to get back to his projects, no doubt, and All For One chuckled again as their linking screen went dark. He sat back in his chair, fingers steepling in front of him, and considered.
The League of Villains. The Eight Precepts. The MLA. Humarise. The HSPC. All Might and his cronies. A coterie of heroes and villains, tangled together in a throttling web, all of them thinking themselves the protagonists of this little game, and all of them unsuspecting of the truth. Plans upon plans upon plans, and so many of them ripe for him to take advantage of. But a little caution was called for, in this much reduced state, and All For One felt his hate stir in his chest, a dragon clawing at his ribs. Not yet, he thought, not yet. But he was close, and with the MLA failing to eliminate Midoriya they would only grow more desperate, lashing out like animals. And in their savagery, who would they target other than the two groups at war with them?
And, for all the advantages that the Eight Precepts had over the League of Villains, they also had more vulnerabilities. Distribution of Trigger and other drugs, their racketeering, their foot soldiers, all targets for MLA backed Heroes and splinter cells. Overhaul himself was hardly in danger, but his finances were crumbling under the pressure. All For One was an expert in applying pressure, after all, and Overhaul was very nearly desperate enough to listen to him. Very nearly desperate enough to heal him, in exchange for protection.
A little hope was a dangerous thing, as he knew well, and Overhaul still had that hope. Give it time. And, as for the others? The HSPC was rotten to the core, whatever good people were in it stifled by the sheer numbers of infiltrators. All Might? Capable but dying, growing weaker day by day. Let all these plans build up, let the Heroes run themselves ragged. Perhaps he would even need to intervene in some, he thought. It ill befit a demon lord, to do Hero's work, but he wasn't minded to rule over nothing but ash. But if it worked partly, just enough to turn back the clock to those glorious years of chaos?
Yes, yes. Let Humarise and the MLA make their play, let Japan suffer the folly of years of weakness, let All Might reap the bitter fruits of wasted decades. And then, when he had failed once, cast the broken body of Izuku Midoriya before him, let him watch his successor gurgle out the last breaths in his shredded body just as his mentor had. And then, and then…
Ah, and then. Returned to the fullness of his strength amidst the fury and the flame, facing All Might in the tatters of this gilded age. All For One could just imagine it.
Imagine the battle, his carefully selected Quirks and his prime body against All Might, feeble and wounded, watching his dream die before he joined it. Or maybe he would live, shattered and defeated, to be tied to All For One's standard and dragged along, to witness as All For One slew that gaudy pretender Stars And Stripes, as he sank I-Island and tore David Shield limb from limb, as he broke everything All Might had ever built! He could just see it now, his fists descending like hammers, skin and flesh tearing, painting that asinine costume with the red of pulped organs and the white of splintered bone, scattering the conceit of a Symbol of Peace to the four winds until the world once again trembled before the Symbol of Evil!
The incessant squawking of a heart monitor dug into his skull, reminding him not to get too worked up, and he tilted his head back and forced himself through a calming exercise to slow the beat of his heart.
Not yet. He had to exercise patience, no matter how it burned at him, he had to wait until his time had come again. He could savour it then, and only then. But that didn't mean he had to do nothing in the meantime. There was something, however, that could bring him amusement, and thinking so he pressed the required buttons to contact Tomura. The boy answered promptly, as always. Such a reliable minion.
"Ah, Tomura my boy," he said, avuncular tone at odds with the malicious smirk that pulled across his lips, "I'm sure you've seen the news, how the MLA intend to take away your destined rival?"
Tomura looked at the screen. All For One didn't need his natural sight to see the devotion in those red eyes, so perfect, honed over the years until it was razor edged. A sword, in All For One's hand. And what use was a sword, other than to spill blood.
"I've seen, Sensei," Tomura said, that soft whisper a constant reminder that he was damaged. Not insurmountably, but damaged. Parallels, All For One thought, he and All Might severely wounded and their protégé's also scarred. But that wasn't what mattered.
"And what are you going to do about it, Tomura?" he asked, leaned forwards even though the link was one-way video only. Tomura's eyes gleamed with a delightful malice, the harshness of his whisper lending authority to what had once been almost a whine.
"Make an example of them, Sensei."
Perfect.