Chapter 41: Rooftop Chases and Icy Dread
Izuku and Todoroki had talked for about an hour before going to bed, him relaying to the boy his story of how he and Katsuki had gone from friends to enemies, and back to friends; mostly he had to focus on the areas that Todoroki could connect with. There was a lot of work to do before he would ever get Todoroki to see things from his point of view, but the fact that he had been willing to sit and listen at all had been a good sign. Izuku just didn't have it in himself to truly hate anyone, so long as they showed they were capable of remorse, and more importantly, that they were capable of growth.
Todoroki's own explanation as to why he had come to him had answered a few of Izuku's questions, and confirmed more than a fair share of his suspicions about the boy and his family. His parents were both members of extant noble families, and had been pushed into an arranged marriage at the behest of his grandmother, a woman who he had only met for the first time in his entire life the day before.
Izuku shuddered a bit at his description of the woman; Todoroki had told him what she looked like in the hope that he would be able to avoid her if he saw her in the building. She resembled anyone else's grandmother on the outside. Worn, drawn features and plenty of wrinkles, a hairline that had receded just a bit into a tight braid of wiry, snow white hair. Some small amount of blush, high eyebrows, large circular glasses, and a mouth that was perpetually relaxed in a small, warm smile. She preferred traditional clothing, and wore sandals.
The woman herself was anything but warm, according to Todoroki's recollection. The day before, he had spent the morning with his father, working on controlling his flames and limiting their output for the most part, until the last half hour of their work. The onus for him accepting the second half of his quirk was, as Izuku had suspected, the result of a conversation with the boy's mother. He apparently had yet to speak with his father regarding that visit and what she had revealed to him about the circumstances of both their family life and his own birth, but Izuku doubted the man wasn't already aware. Endeavor was many things, but stupid was hardly one of them.
Half an hour before he was due to begin instructing Izuku, Endeavor had called a halt to his son's training and explained to him that his maternal grandmother would be helping him to expand his power, to reach his maximum with his ice side. Apparently, the man had also cautioned him to avoid upsetting the woman, and to always do as she demanded, without asking questions unless absolutely necessary.
The training itself had been recounted to an already unsettled Izuku in a cavalier manner that made his stomach flip at the implications. Certainly, Todorki had been subjected to training all his life by his father, but it couldn't have been as intense as what he had been forced to undergo yesterday, could it? Not if he came back looking like death frozen over every time.
While Endeavor had been helping Izuku to visualize and more properly regulate the energy he used to feed his gear, Todorki had been burning with everything he had to stave off a wall of frost and ice that would have killed him had he not produced enough heat. Rin Takamado was not one to hold back, and the fact that Todoroki with his fire on full blast still suffered minor frostbite and a case of hypothermia after half an hour's continuous assault was proof enough that she was likely the most powerful ice quirk user in Japan. That they had then continued for another two hours after onsite medics had healed his injuries only solidified his assessment of the woman.
She was ruthless, powerful, and driven towards some goal that had steered her actions down through two generations. What that goal was, neither boy could guess, though Izuku theorized that it had something to do with the lessons on duty and status that Todoroki's father had tried to reinforce over the years. The fact that he didn't know for sure why any of this was happening more than anything else was what had unsettled Todoroki enough to ask for help in his roundabout way, at least, according to Izuku's thinking. Not for the first time he wished he had Ochaco with him to neatly catalogue everyone's emotions in this mess, so that he could reconcile them with their actions.
At present, he figured that his classmate had taken Katsuki's words literally, and that Izuku had some way of thinking that could literally make him stronger. If that were the case, then he would believe that if he could in turn become strong enough, he could free himself and his family from under his grandmother's thumb. If he equated a person's value with their power, then it made sense that he could conflate becoming a better person with becoming a stronger individual. Still, just like his father, Todoroki wasn't stupid. He may have been socially stunted, inept even when it came to things like sarcasm and idioms, but he would grasp the true meaning of Bakugo's declaration fairly quickly, of that, Izuku was certain. What he would do once he fully understood though, that was anyone's guess.
Still, there would be time for that later. Now, Izuku had training with Endeavor to look forward to while he worried for the man's son in the back of his mind. Stepping into the gym in his full armor, he found the flame hero waiting for him, already scowling at the world in general. Perhaps that anger wasn't simply from being the perennial runner up, and was also influenced by his own circumstances. His only acknowledgement to Izuku's presence was a grunt and an inclination of his head. With that, they began once again.
Ochaco shouted out her, "kiyah," smiling widely as she flipped the 'man' over her shoulder, rolling his body across her side before bringing an elbow back to slam hard into his ribs. Gunhead-sensei had brought in scarily realistic training dummies for the day, and Ochaco was determined to make full use of the opportunity, really getting a gauge for how powerful her strikes should be, and also, how strong they could be.
As it turned out, being able to affect inertia in things she touched meant that people caught in close combat with her might find themselves slammed into the ground or a nearby wall a lot harder than they would have thought possible. In a way, it was almost a form of super strength, a fact accentuated by the spiderweb cracks a few of her tosses had left on the ground. Figuring out this aspect of her quirk, well, it was like discovering her power for the first time all over again.
Of course, it helped that her instructor was one of the most dedicated men she had ever encountered. Oh sure, he had a rough exterior, something of a threatening presence in a room when he wasn't talking. But then, her teacher would open his mouth, and all that would come out was gentle, kind words and an earnest desire to help everyone around him to succeed. Unlike a lot of spotlight heroes she had seen, Gunhead had a humbleness about him that Ochaco found reassuring. It was something she wanted to emulate, and she was once again glad she had chosen the combat hero to learn from.
"You're doing great kiddo," cheered the man in question, his strange mask still obscuring his features. Ochaco didn't need to see his face to hear the smile in his voice however. "Take a water break though; proper hydration is one of the keys to being an effective hero! We're on patrol this afternoon, and then this evening we're gonna run through self defense tactics for knife wielding assailants, sound good?"
"Yes sir, Gunhead-sensei sir!" Cheered Ochaco, pumping a fist and moving to grab a bottle of water. While she took her break she pulled out her phone, scrolling through her numerous messages to see what all her friends and classmates were up to. While she may have been part of Deku's friend group primarily, a fact that his sharing of his secret had especially reinforced, she was also on friendly terms with a number of their classmates.
Tsu had sent an update on her time at the Oki Mariner working with Selkie, and a selfie she had taken with one of the sidekicks. Ochaco smiled, glad that her friend was finding her internship as fulfilling as her own was proving to be.
Kaminari, despite first impressions, was actually quite the affable goof. Sure, he tried to hit on every girl he met, but he knew how to respect boundaries once they were established, and could be surprisingly funny at times. He seemed to be working for some kind of recon hero Ochaco had never heard of, and was seemingly trying to improve his control of his quirk and its ability to interact with electromagnetic and radio frequencies.
Quiet, calm, good natured Shoji was working for a hero who specialized in tracking and missing persons cases. Though he was a professed minimalist, she couldn't help but smile when she saw the headband he had bought to match his temporary teacher, the pro hero Native. It was good to see him enjoying his experience.
Of course, in her more immediate friend group, the updates were much more detailed. She smiled as she read them, earning some teasing from her teacher as she checked on Deku and the other classmates she was most familiar with. That was fine though; she could handle a little embarrassment, especially after breaking three of the man's training dummies under the weight of a particularly hard swing.
Katsuki had just finished lifting a pile of trash up off the ground and into the waiting bin when Shitty Hair appeared at his side, the same stupid shark toothed grin on display as always, babbling something about manliness. His first instinct was to blow him up for the sake of it, but he had worked long and hard to ignore that impulse, and he was never one to throw away his own hard work.
"The fuck did you say?" He growled, shifting the weight of another piece of garbage in his arms before he deposited it into the nearby truck-bed. Fourth Kind had gone on some spiel about the essence of heroism that morning, and so after their initial assessment, the hero had set them to community service work. Patrols would come later, he said, but first the more mundane side of the job. Katsuki had needed to suppress a snort. When was the last time All Might was seen picking up garbage? Still, at least he was allowed to blow up some of the piles with nothing to recycle in them.
"I said the way you took out that last patch of trash was super manly, bro! I didn't think you could make your explosions small enough to torch it without touching the grass!" Katsuki grunted, not wanting to think too much about the compliment for fear of letting it affect his ego. He knew he toed the line between pride and arrogance, and he didn't want to push himself over it again. Losing to Deku at the sports festival, it hadn't felt great, but it hadn't been world shattering like it might have been once upon a time.
"Yeah well, it takes a lot of focus," he spat, incinerating another nearby pile of refuse before turning towards some of the more recyclable materials to carry to the appropriate container.
"Man, I wish my quirk was cool like yours," said his classmate, the hardening on his arms momentarily flashing to life before disappearing back into normal flesh. "I mean sure, I can take a hit, but it'll never be attention grabbing."
"The fuck are you talking about, Hair for Brains?" Sneered Katsuki, turning to look at him. "You've got some of the best defense ever, and when you pack your strength behind it, you've got damn good offense too. Shit man, I wish I could take half the punishment you can while still going. You'll be a fine pro," he stopped his rant for a moment to look at the other boy, a sly smirk crossing his face, "or at least the best sidekick I'll ever have!"
"Hey," objected Kirishima, a bit of an indignant blush rising to his cheeks, "I'm not gonna be stuck as a sidekick man!" Katsuki felt himself chuckle, the sly grin turning more genuine.
"Good, you needed to hear yourself say it. Don't doubt yourself so much, Shitty Hair." He paused, feeling a bit introspective as he looked out over what remained of the trash in the park they were cleaning. He really hadn't been enjoying himself, and that was something of a problem, wasn't it? Weren't heroes supposed to like this kind of shit? "At least you've got a more heroic attitude than me." He added quietly.
"Dude, now who needs to stop doubting himself!" Objected his classmate, clapping him on the back. "You're like one of the manliest bros I know; and not every hero has to be all cuddly and nice. Before All Might took it pretty much permanently, the number one spot moved around a lot, and one of the former number ones was Crimson Riot!" Katsuki cocked his head to the side, giving a blank look to his companion.
"And that's important because?"
"Because dude! Crimson Riot might have talked about chivalry and manliness a lot, and he for sure cared about saving people, but he wasn't exactly the kind of hero you could go up to and hug, or ask for an autograph, y'know? The dude wore a muzzle even!" Katsuki continued to look at him blankly, and Shitty Hair just laughed. "All I'm saying is, you don't have to be super-nice to be a super-hero. You just have to be ready to save the day, and you've definitely got the manly spirit for that!"
Katsuki let the words sink in, really reflecting on what his friend was saying. Shitty Hair had a point about not all heroes being too approachable, hell, the current number two was about as cuddly as a cactus. But the greatest hero, All Might, well, the man was sunshine incarnate; just like Deku. If he wanted to be number one someday, would he have to change every aspect of himself to match the new standards that the man had set? Would he be able to carve his own path to the top instead?
He didn't get to think about much more when he felt a sudden tugging at his arm, looking down to see a brat in shorts and a T-shirt staring up at him with wide red eyes. Holy hell, the kid looked like a palette swapped little Deku, and wasn't that just the freakiest thing he had seen in a while? That surprise was probably what prevented him from yelling at the brat right away.
"Uhm, s'cuse me, m' sorry, I just uh...are you guys new heroes? I haven't seen you around here before and uh," the kid shifted his eyes, shuffling his feet awkwardly and producing a small booklet after a moment, "I was wondering if I could have your autographs?" Katsuki felt Shitty Hair watching him, waiting to see what he would do. Fourth Kind was around somewhere too, probably bench pressing a park bench or something. Of all the guys here, the kid had run up to the punk with literal grenades on his belt? Really?
"Ah, sure kid. But uh, we're not heroes yet. We're uh, students at UA, on internships this week," said Katsuki, not really sure of what to say in this situation, or if he was being nice enough. Impossibly, the brat's eyes opened even wider.
"Whoa, so cool! UA's the best hero school there is! You guys are gonna be great heroes, so please, sign my book!" The kid bowed, head down as he held up the little booklet, one of the nicer autograph books they sold these days, and he noted the All Might cover. Katsuki took it gingerly, uncomfortably aware of a time when he had held someone else's notebook, and burned it to near ash.
"So kid, you want me to make it out to someone?" Shitty Hair had moved beside him now, and had flashed him a grin and quick thumbs up. Maybe the whole public interaction thing wouldn't be too bad. Really, it was just another challenge to overcome. When the kid supplied his name, Katsuki scrawled his signature onto the page, along with his hero name and a little message.
After grabbing Shitty Hair's signature as well, the kid ran off when they told him Fourth Kind was somewhere nearby, hoping to grab his autograph as well. His classmate smiled at him in that same annoying way, and Katsuki glared back.
"What?"
"That wasn't so hard dude! See, you'll do just fine with the public." He slapped him on the back again and went back to picking up litter, Katsuki following behind a moment later.
He reflected on the interaction a little more, noting how his chest felt a bit lighter after the whole thing. He wondered if this was how Deku felt all the time, especially when he saw the kid's eyes light up at what he had written.
To Sota Yamamoto, the first citizen I met who called me a hero. I'll be sure to live up to the name.
💥Ground Zero💥
-Katsuki Bakugo
Yeah, maybe he could do this after all.
Tenya had never felt more alive than he did at the present moment, adrenaline surging through him as he pushed his engines almost into redline. He and Tensei were on the trail of some really unsavory fellows who had been caught trying to ambush one of the Idaten sidekicks in an alleyway.
With his brother leading the chase over the rooftops, Tenya was darting through the streets and maze-like back corridors of Hosu, heartbeat in his ears as the flash of white cloth he was pursuing darted around corners and over fences. He had almost been thrown off the villain's trail entirely when he ran into a patch of caltrops, but the redesigned armor he sported had thicker soles, sparing him from an impaled foot.
"Halt evildoer! In the name of team Idaten, I order you to surrender yourself to temporary custody, pending arrest!" Yelled Tenya, quite pleased with how his voice sounded over the speakers on his helmet. The man before him seemed less enthused, flipping up a fire escape and flicking his wrist back towards his pursuer.
Tenya felt the impact slam into his shoulder, though whatever it was didn't pierce the armor he wore. His widened visor allowed him to spare a quick glance to the offending object, finding a knife sunk a good way into the polymer shell he had wrapped around him. He grimaced, hunching down a bit to try and present a smaller profile as he continued on after the villain.
He pushed his engines harder, running up the wall a ways then off the top of a nearby dumpster until he could grab the bottom of the fire escape and swing himself up. He took the metal stairs two at a time, grateful that his target had such a gaudy choice in costume; the flapping white tails of his long scarf were almost as good as a flashing neon arrow pointing to the man.
"Ingenium, this is Celeritas, I am in continued pursuit of suspect two; the suspect is armed and dangerous. We are proceeding across the rooftops off of Yavin street, heading in a southwest direction.
"Celeritas, this is Idaten dispatch, Ingenium is engaged with the primary suspect to the East of your position," rang the voice in his ear, "disengage and move to assist. Kamui Woods is on the way, but you're the closest available responder." Tenya took one quick glance at the fleeing villain, trying to gauge if he would have time to toss a tracker onto the man. Too far, damn it all.
Tenya spun on his heel, turning nearly sixty degrees to align himself with the directions indicated by the HUD in his visor. Tensei needed his assistance, and that was his main priority.
"Dispatch, I am moving to assist. Please advise support crew, I am redlining my engines." He grit his teeth, knowing that he would be facing a rebuke from Tensei, his parents, and the family doctor/mechanic, along with a not insignificant amount of pain later, but sometimes even the most stringent rules had to bend a bit.
"Understood Celeritas, we've got Enigma taking over pursuit on the secondary suspect; moving on a course to intercept...stay safe, kid," said the dispatcher, likely a friend of Tensei's. Tenya bent even lower, knowing that this wasn't his forte; the rooftops had always been his brother's domain after all, but there was no time to consider things like that now. He felt his enhanced cognition flare, entering into the speed state as his surroundings began to blur.
Up, down, slide, jump! He was sailing over the gap in between roofs, an alleyway passing by below in a flash, and then he was onto another roof, passing behind a billboard that he sprang off of, using his leg strength to launch himself horizontally through the air. He came to the peak of his jump's arc, catching sight of a flash of white and red, and his stomach sank.
Ingenium, no, Tensei, was on his back, parrying the maniac's descending thrusts of his sword with only his bare hands. All it would take would be one mistake for the villain to deliver a coup de grace to his brother.
He felt his engines overheat, heard a bit of the stall coming. It was such a strange thing for other people to understand, how one could have machines in their body that were also a part of their biology. In the Iida family though, it was intuitive. Their engines had been a part of them for generations, and with time came understanding. Tenya knew he was pushing it too far, but he also knew it was what heroes did in times of need.
"Recipro Burst Overdrive!" He screamed, twisting in the air and bringing a foot around in a roundhouse that was practically glowing with heat and force. The villain was caught completely unawares, a high whistling noise the only thing he heard before the hit landed, likely shattering his jaw, and definitely knocking him unconscious.
"Tenya!" Yelled his brother, professionalism momentarily forgotten as he sprang to his feet, moving to catch his little brother before he fell over. Tenya grimaced beneath his helm, the visor displaying heat warnings like never before, not that he needed them to know how bad a shape he was about to be in. He could feel his metal pieces searing into the flesh they were nestled inside, and it took all of his concentration not to pass out from the pain.
"Ingen...Ingenium, villain neutralized, b-but I was unable to, to continue pursuit of s-second suspect," he managed, slumping in relief as Tensei lowered him against the edge of the roof, propping his back up and breaking the seal on his armor. Tenya winced at the look on his brother's face when he beheld his legs, and outright screamed when he poured a bottle of cold water onto his calves, sending up a flash of steam.
"I'm sorry Tenya, shit, I know it hurts, but we've got to get you cooled down," said Tensei, radioing into dispatch for additional support a moment later. "I'll be right back little bro, okay?" Tenya nodded mutely, feeling his consciousness begin to slip from him. Tensei was safe, that was all that really mattered.
In a fugue, he watched his brother detain the unconscious villain, cuffing his wrists and ankles before proceeding to do his damnedest to disarm the man. Swords, knives, and even some small explosive charges were deposited on the rooftop as Ingenium frisked the villain, until at last he was satisfied. He quickly returned to Tenya's side, sliding down the wall next to him.
"Tenya, that was really stupid, you know that right? You're not gonna be able to patrol again until Friday." Tensei smirked at him, removing his helmet and patting his brother on the shoulder. "I don't know if I'd have gotten outta that without a scratch though little bro, so thanks. Oh hey, look, it's Sky Ranger. Enigma just radioed in too, she got the second runner for us."
Sure enough, the armored woman with gyro-copter blades on her shoulders was descending towards them quite quickly, with a number of other Idaten members in the distance also visible as they converged on their position, Enigma's massive silhouette discernible against the faraway rooftops.
"T-t-that's...good," Tenya managed after a moment. Tensei handed him some pills with another bottle of water, which he dutifully took.
"Alright little bro, that should help with the pain, so you just go ahead and take a little nap. We'll get this guy into custody nice and quick, and then by the time you wake up, I'll have you watch the interrogation we do on his buddy, alright?"
"That...sounds...good...Tensei," he mumbled, eyes closing as both pain and quirk exhaustion rolled over him. The last thing he heard before sleep took him was Tensei laughing.
"You did good, Tenya. Just don't tell Mom and Dad I said that. But you helped me out today, little bro. You're well on your way to being a great hero."
Hitoshi rubbed his forehead, feeling both immensely tired, and impossibly self satisfied. Beside him, Aizawa-sensei sported the same melancholy look as ever, but something about him was different today. He seemed more energetic, but not in a positive way. It was, if Hitoshi was forced to describe it, like someone with an itch that they not only can't reach, but which has been going on for well over two days.
They were fast approaching a police station in Hosu, much like the one they had deposited their quarry from the day before at. Aizawa's normal interrogation techniques had proved...less than effective on the pair of men, two from that damn 'Stained' movement that had been gaining momentum.
"When we're in there, you do what I say and you stay quiet, understand?" Ordered Aizawa, sending a stern look to Hitoshi as he leapt along with him. The boy nodded back, adjusting his capture scarf to ride a little higher around his neck. He'd have to ask his teacher about how he kept it in place once they were done for the day.
"What exactly are we doing that I need to stay quiet?" He asked as they touched down in front of the station, getting waved inside and through the security check with relative ease. His teacher answered him as they went through the front office.
"One of your classmates helped apprehend another pair of these creeps while on his internship, and we're going to help conduct their interrogation. Well, I'll help with that, you will compare notes with what we got from our friends from yesterday."
"Which one of my classmates got them?" He asked as they passed through a set of double doors, down a darker hallway into the back recesses of the station. They descended a flight of stairs, and found themselves in the reinforced basement, the drunk tank, holding cells, and interrogation room stretching down along the hall before them.
"Iida. Kid pushed his quirk too hard while responding, ended up hurting himself. Your whole class is a bunch of problem children, I swear. Anyways, Iida's going to be here to watch the interrogation, you'll be watching with him. Ingenium and I will be handling the actual talking."
"Any particular reason for that?" Aizawa gave him a long, withering look.
"I didn't realize you had taken your interrogation coursework already, of course, how silly of me," he said in his monotone. "Certainly, there's no way my two untrained students might violate procedure by not knowing what they're doing and get these guys' testimony thrown out in the process."
"You held a guy off a roof by his ankle yesterday," rebutted Hitoshi, seeing his point but wanting to object for the sake of his pride. His teacher gave him an eye roll and another tired look, but with a hint of fondness behind it.
"No, I slipped while conducting a field interrogation and saved that man from falling off the roof. You'll find that a lot of underground heroes tend to be clumsy with that sort of thing, but we're also pretty good at not actually letting anyone get hurt," he finished, gesturing for Hitoshi to step through the open door.
"Ah, Shinso, oh, pardon, Hitoshi, it's good to see you here!" Came the annoyingly cheerful voice from inside, Tenya appearing in the darkness a moment later, seated in front of a window looking into the interrogation room. Hitoshi had readied something scathing but caught himself when he realized that his friend was in fact seated in a wheelchair, and that there were some ice packs on his legs. Tenya smiled and followed his gaze, chuckling sheepishly and rubbing the back of his head. "Ah, yes. I may have err, redlined my engines in order to get to Tensei faster."
"Jesus Christ Tenya, what the hell?" His friend was either too tired to care for his language, or had otherwise been given some stronger than average painkillers, because he simply laughed.
"Tensei needed help," he said as if that explained everything. Hitoshi pinched the bridge of his nose, before moving over to stand beside the other boy. He could see a man through the window, wearing simple, dark clothes. He was almost a mirror of Aizawa in terms of scruffiness, who happened to be sitting across from him at the short table now, but only one of the two men wore cuffs, and it wasn't their teacher. Hitoshi leaned closer to his classmate, hoping they wouldn't be overheard.
"So, have you asked Tensei about what Izuku told us?" He asked, using one hand to cup his mouth. Tenya frowned and shook his head.
"No, not yet. I was hoping a moment would present itself after patrol today where I could raise the matter as a rumour I overheard or something of the like, though I would prefer not to deceive my brother in such a manner," he said, casting a furtive glance into the interrogation room. Aizawa had begun talking, asking the man if he got enough sleep. Building a rapport , thought Hitoshi.
"I haven't heard anything either. Mostly we've been running into reports on these 'Stained' guys, but none of them have said what they're up to yet." Tenya's eyes widened.
"You've run into some of them already?"
"Bagged two of them last night, but not even Aizawa could get anything out of them. Just ranted about purity and martyrdom, and a better world. Bunch of crap about All Might, too"
"Hmm, perhaps these two will prove more cooperative." Hitoshi grimaced.
"Doubtful, but who knows? Isn't it strange that both of the ones we've caught have been in pairs? Wait, did yours have one guy in red and one in white too?"
"Yes, they did. Perhaps there's some significance there, like a sniper team," mused Tenya, rubbing his chin. "From what I recall, the one wearing red had lighter hair. This must be the other one, the one that one of the Idaten sidekicks grabbed." Hitoshi was still astounded by how quickly these people had come to trust him, never once hesitating to answer a question he asked. "Oh, look, Tensei is joining Aizawa-sensei."
Sure enough, the towering figure of Ingenium in full armor had barged into the room, a policeman trailing desperately after him and shouting objections to his presence. How much that was genuine and how much was performance for the sake of unsettling the villain, neither boy could say for sure.
"So, big bro is playing bad cop?" Hitoshi asked, arching a brow at his friend. Tenya simply shrugged.
"He tends to be very protective of the members of his team. Moreso with his family." Past the glass, their teacher was reading the list of facts about the man's capture and enumerating all the illegal weapons he had on him. He stared at him before claiming that his accomplice had already given up that they were planning on killing a hero. That last part was a lie, but not one the suspect needed to know.
"I thought you'd object to lying in general, even if it was to a villain?" Hitoshi asked.
"He tried to kill my brother," growled back Tenya, suddenly much more tense and with a hint of something darker glinting behind his glasses. "They could execute him now and I wouldn't complain." Hitoshi took a step back and coughed awkwardly, which seemed to draw the other boy back to his normal self. They watched on as the interrogation continued in silence.
Aizawa had begun to paint a picture for the villain, verbally anyways. Shitty home life, couldn't make it into a hero school, unfulfilling job, and maybe a hero that failed to save someone the villain cared about. He was talking softly, but the man seemed to be becoming more agitated as he went on. Ingenium stood in the corner, arms crossed.
Switching his method, Aizawa moved on, probing for other avenues of inquiry. He allowed Ingenium to cut the man off when he voiced a denial, the Turbo Hero stating that the villain's job was to listen for now with a terseness that was terribly unlike the image he presented to the public.
The villain tried to claim that they were simply surveying their neighborhood, acting as lone vigilantes, that the knives were simply for unavoidable self defense. And see, no quirks were used, so it was fine!
Aizawa flipped it on him, said that it was good, that their crime hadn't been too premeditated, that that fact could help him in court. The man didn't take the bait, but he was getting worn down.
"Man, it's kind of like those old cop shows," mused Shinso at the two hour mark, hand on his chin. "Just, who would ever think Aizawa-sensei would be the one playing good cop?" Tenya didn't respond, leaning forward in his wheelchair as he watched the interrogation progress. "Hey, earth to Tenya."
"He's slipping," said his friend, squinting. "The villain, there's a tremor in his hand, and he keeps looking away from Tensei." Hitoshi narrowed his own eyes.
"Look, we understand that sometimes you can get swept up into something, pushed into a situation with big words and promises," came Aizawa's voice. Hitoshi turned to his classmate. This was weird. "Think about all the old MLA members back in the bad old days, huh? You think all of them did time like the ringleaders? No, of course not. They got pulled in, lied to, scammed into working for someone that didn't really care about them, because they thought they were making a better tomorrow. Help me to help you, huh? Tell us where the main base is and we can guarantee reduced sentencing, minimum security, hell, you tell us enough, we could get you qualified immunity, maybe even a general amnesty for your associates. And for you? Out on probation for a year, clean record after that."
For a moment it seemed to be working. The man shifted in his seat, eyes down, head hung seemingly in shame. Their teacher moved closer, and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"I know you're not a bad guy, you know it too. Help us put a stop to this before anyone else gets hurt, huh?"
The man was out of the cuffs before anyone realized it, a glint of steel in his hand. Hitoshi jumped, about to scream a warning, but the two heroes in the room had already moved. Aizawa had sprung back, tipping his chair and cursing as he unfurled his scarf, clutching a cut on his arm. Ingenium had moved too, jumping forward and intercepting the man's back swing, catching the knife right through his left hand.
"Idols, pretenders, fakes!" Screeched the villain, wild eyed as he somehow produced yet another knife.
"Damnit, where the fuck did he - Ingenium, get back," yelled Aizawa, just as officers burst through the door, weapons drawn. To Hitoshi's right, Tenya was trying to rise from his chair, screaming his brother's name.
"You liars, deceivers, false prophets. We will not be swayed!" He yelled, waving the knife back and forth through the air unsteadily. "We are the Stained! Blood shall be the waters of our cleansing, blood of the idolators, or the blood of our own!"
"Shit, stop him!" Yelled Aizawa, capture weapon flying forward. It was too late though, the man dodged impossibly quickly before flipping the blade in his hand and dragging it down the inside of his left forearm, slashing his wrist horizontally for good measure. Aizawa lunged, trying to tackle the man as the officers did the same, but he kicked up his chair and pushed it between them. The hero and the police went down, briefly, into a pile.
"Martyrdom! For a better future!" Aizawa had extricated himself from the tumult, ready to try again with his capture weapon, but the villain was ahead of him. Down the knife blade plunged, one, twice, thrice, all into his own abdomen, coming back slick with dark blood every time. "For Stain!"
It was the last thing the man said; a moment later, he attempted to drag the blade across his throat before he went limp, apparently having hit an artery somewhere in just the right way. A spurt of scarlet went gushing onto the one way mirror in an arc, and the villain fell back into the wall. Aizawa reached him then, just as he gurgled his last, head falling to his side as he crumpled down into a heap, leaving a scarlet streak where he slid down to the floor. The hero's curses as he worked were muffled, officers moving to assist him, even if everyone knew it was futile.
There was nothing to be done, not with that much blood everywhere, but even so, Aizawa tried. Hitoshi watched in horror as the pro got to work, fastening a tourniquet above the man's left elbow and applying pressure with blood slicked fingers to the wounds on his torso. It was horrible, and necessary, and a part of what a hero really did out of the spotlight, Hitoshi realized. He felt himself go a little numb, bile rising in his throat.
Ingenium suddenly burst through the door behind them, startling him back to his senses. He hadn't realized he had fallen backwards onto the ground, sitting with his hands behind him as Tenya fought to get to his brother, questions firing off a mile a minute. He had risen from his wheelchair on unsteady legs, struggling to cross over to his brother, consequences be damned.
Hitoshi turned his head, noting that the first knife was still lodged through the hero's hand, point emerging from his palm while the hilt stood out against the back of his glove. It was that sight that finally did it. Hitoshi leaned over, barely making it to the wastebasket with desperately scrabbling fingers, before he promptly threw up.
Shoto coughed again as the ice crept along the ground, his senses failing him as his vision blurred, the fog of his breath splitting in the air before him. They had been at this for four hours now, and he had been fully encased in ice six times already. Without fail, whenever his flames had gone out, his grandmother had encased him head to toe and waited for him to pass out before releasing him from the frozen tomb.
He desperately tried to reignite his flames one last time, bringing to mind his father's words from the day before. Focus on the breathing. Fire comes from the breath, it needs oxygen as we need oxygen. Give it more breath, and your flames will grow in power.
He took a shuddering breath, dispersing some of the cloudy air that hung in front of him with a wave of his hand, as if that would make it sting in his lungs any less. The training room was completely frozen over, in much the same way as he had done to the inside of the building where he had first faced Midoriya. But this ice wasn't like his ice, or his mother's. It was colder, darker. It swallowed light as it crept along, a deep shadow looming beneath it's glossy surface, sharp edges pressing up with razor thin edges, threatening to shred any hapless fool that fell against it.
The source was the old woman standing at one end of the room, the path of frost extending beneath her feet as she stood with her hands clasped behind her back, not a single hair out of place on her head. She wore a kosode with a wide obi, and cream and orange uchiki over the top, the train trailing only a bit behind her. She was still smiling, not making eye contact with him, but staring at a point about his neckline the entire time.
Shoto hated her, with all the hatred he had harbored for his father. Oh, he still hated the man. Hated him for his weakness, for his inability to resist the woman now before him, but it wasn't as passionate anymore. His father could perhaps someday be forgiven, if what his mother had told him about the man proved true. But this woman? This vile, cretinous wretch that wore a caricature of his mother's face made wrong by time and greed? He would see her burn.
"Your passion is useful, a tool to be directed, but you do not direct it properly," she admonished, not moving as the ice crept closer. "I see resentment in you; that is good. Disdain, disgust, anger, all of it can fuel your power. But. Now is not the time for an emotional outburst. If you are to be worthy of the name you shall inherit, if you are to fulfill your purpose, your hand must be steady. And yet, you are shaking." The shadows in the ice moved, twirling beneath the thin veneer of separation that kept Shoto away from whatever was inside the hateful substance.
He wanted to rebut her so badly, to talk back even, but he remembered his father's warning. Rin Takamado was not one to be spoken to, unless she requested it of you. She would enforce your silence, one way or the other. And as he was now, Shoto knew that trying to speak would see him left choking for air as the ice closed over his head once more. Even when he had encased his opponents in his glaciers in the past, he had always left them pockets of air. His grandmother did not.
If he wanted to get away, if he ever wanted to be free from this woman's control, if he ever wanted his mother out of the hospital, he had to get stronger. He had to become strong enough to depose All Might, to rise up as the number one hero where his father failed. With all the prestige and political capital the position afforded he could save them, and himself, couldn't he? But if his father had been raising him for that purpose at her behest, then wouldn't that be playing into her hands? Just what did she really want from them?
"Pathetic," spat his grandmother, her eternal soft smile frozen onto her face. "This little amount of ice and you can't stay warm? How could you ever hope to master the power of your lineage if you can't withstand this paltry chill?" The ice climbed closer, Shoto's best attempts at lighting up only resulting in slightly warming his side. For all his efforts, he couldn't ignite. "You performed more effectively yesterday, though not by much. Do you lack motivation, Shoto?"
An icy spear shot forward, its gleaming tip coming to rest against his throat, but not yet piercing his skin. Shoto's eyes widened as he stepped back, the vapor coming off the spear rising up in glittering tendrils that spoke of departed spirits and screams in the dark.
"You will find your motivation soon enough, I think," she mused, finally bringing a hand forward to push her glasses back up her nose. Her smile never left her face as the ice rushed over him all at once, the darkness covering his vision as the cold pressed into him impossibly quickly, sapping every last bit of heat and air from him. Shoto tried to move, tried to scream, and at the end, tried to immolate himself like Toya had, just to escape. It was all for nothing though, his quirk wouldn't come, and just as before he soon fell unconscious, trapped in the icy prison with nothing for company but the twisting shadows beneath the ice, and his own pain.
Chizome tied his mask back about his face, coming to his decision at last. Four of his soldiers had fallen to the increased patrols of the last two days, both simple scouting parties meant to map the heroes' patrol routes, and more were likely to fall as well now that the false heroes had readied their counterattack. Their retribution against a just, noble crusade. It was sickening, but perhaps understandable. What kind of being would willingly let itself be culled, after all?
No, the heroes would be on high alert for the immediate future. Too many soldiers had been spotted, even omitting the ones that had been captured. Until more of his troops were ready, until they were properly blooded, he wouldn't risk sending out hunting pairs anymore.
He had finally made up his mind; the remaining unblooded would be given a chance to prove themselves in two days time. It would be their final chance. Any who remained unblooded, unstained after Thursday would be cast off, unable to commit to the task they had undertaken. Until then, they would wait. They would wait, and prepare, for the hunt was soon to begin.