I'm exceedingly rarely chilling in JaxWolf4's (Author of Nah, I'd Adapt) Discord Server. It's a chaotic lobotomy mess. Not for the faint of heart.
Here's the link:
Disc: HrPrTeam
KOKUSEN KOKUSEN KOKUSEN KOKUSEN KOKUSEN!
-Story Start-
May 14th, 2234.
Afternoon.
The familiar buzz of the shaver filled the quiet, professional atmosphere of the MightCut Barbery.
Months of persistent practice in the art of the silky smooth and stylish had finally begun to show their first true results:
"Damn good work, man." The three-headed man rose from the barber chair, appraising all three of his heads with an impressed whistle.
Turning to Choso, he handed out a bill from his pocket, a satisfied smirk on all three of his heads, "Keep the change."
Eyeing the overpay with a not-so-subtle glance of greed, Choso shook the man's hand with his own gloved left hand and took the free coin. "Thank you, come again. Next time, if you're subscribed to Takada-chan, I'll put extra effort." He guaranteed.
"Hah! No need to overdo it, if it means you'll treat me right each time I walk in here for a cut, I'll subscribe, alright."
"Mhm." Choso nodded with a subtle smile.
The hydraesque man strolled out of the shop just a moment later, Choso's gaze lingering for a moment longer as he waved goodbye, the entrance bell ringing at the exit.
Only for his attention to be seized by the familiar tone of his master in the ways of hair-styling. "I gather you've got what it takes to move on to Women's cuts and complex Heteromorphs."
"That's a drastic comparison." Choso retorted indifferently, meeting Rentaro's gaze whilst he quietly pocketed the tip he got.
"And they're our highest earners. Why do you think I didn't give ya a chance to even work on a single one?"
"I didn't question it. I was just grateful I didn't have to work too hard." Choso admitted honestly.
Despite being a hard worker for the sake of his dear brothers, he can't help but have ingrained the mentality of a reluctant fast-food worker who does the bare minimum.
Worst of all, he has to deal with one, now that he is a shift manager at MightBurger.
"Well, here's your answer, and here's your approval. The next Heteromorph or woman to walk into the store, you'll be working on under my supervisio-"
"Tan-Tan-Tantaka-Tan~!" Choso's phone rang aloud, interrupting Rentaro's informally promoting Choso, with the usual Takada-chan song - an original, a classic, as Aoi would remark.
"Sorry, give me a moment." He drove his gloved hand into his pocket and withdrew his cheap, barely functional smartphone.
The VPN was always on, in case Choso forgot - he wouldn't, but he appreciated Aoi's concern.
The caller ID was the usual suspect, and not the one Choso took pleasure in receiving a call from.
It usually involved less-than-savory news.
With a slight frown nestling on his already weary-looking features, he strolled outside, the bell and the warmth of late-spring Musutafu enveloped him as he answered his phone. "What is it now, Midoriya?" He asked, amid the hustle and bustle of the central square, where the barbershop was located.
[U-Umm, hey. Afternoon Choso-senpai! Sorry if I'm bothering you-]
"To the point."
[Ah, right, sorry... I don't think I'll be able to make it to my shift this evening... really sorry.]
See? Bad news as always. Although at least now he knows the reason.
"Did you harm yourself with your Quirk again?"
[...Yes.]
No visible change in tone, only a slight bit of exasperation left his lips, "How? Didn't I send you my little brother's advice yesterday?"
His frown deepened as a menacing, foreboding statement swiftly followed that presumption. "You dared ignore his advice...?"
The very notion had dangerous, painful implications.
Something Izuku Midoriya immediately felt even across phone lines, as he loudly gulped and swiftly denied:
[N-No no no! I did listen! It was great! I could finally actually move at my four percent! I could finally not hurt myself-] He cut himself off and shook his head and got to the point, sensing a disturbance in Choso's infinite patience.
[But I just found myself in a situation where I had to break my finger... that's all. Sorry.]
"Had to?"
[Umm... it's personal? S-Sorry.]
His rage subsided at the admission that his little brother's advice hadn't fallen on deaf ears, "Just don't miss more shifts. This will be your last time. Neither the boss nor I can afford to cover for you all the time, or have use for a full-time employee that works like a part-timer."
He continued, "We can change that title for you, but the expectation is full-time, and the employment terms and pay will certainly have to change." He almost mechanically and robotically repeated, as if he cited some kind of management manual he had memorized.
[...Thank you and sorry. I promise this will be the last time-]
Izuku's apology was cut short as Choso immediately hung up the call the moment he saw a message notification from his younger brother, Aoi.
Choso's eyes widened considerably, as confoundment seized his expression.
His eyes narrowed as he read the message carefully, mumbling out the direness of it:
"Prepare Notebook B. You will be called by the authorities shortly, have it with you on hand, and do not panic. We are fine."
...
Choso's mind raced as he digested the implications of those words, "Notebook B?" He repeated, his puzzlement rising, "So soon? What could've happened..." Before the older brother could notice, worry crawled onto his face, but for only an instant.
Calming himself and shifting into the mindset of a true older brother, he nodded without hesitation. "Work will have to wait. My little brothers need me."
With all that said and done, he hadn't even done the courtesy of notifying his Sensei and Mightburger Boss that he might not come to the job.
But he didn't care.
His brothers needed him.
-------------------------------
Day quickly turned into night, yet paradoxically, it felt like the day crawled like a slow, torturous slog, for some more than others.
Within a cold, uninviting room with a rustic, almost psychologically threatening air to it, made a smidgen more comfortable by the smiling and well-dressed detective sitting in front of her, coupled with the warm cup of green tea that soothed her nerves from this whole horrible day, sat Ochako Uraraka.
Just a smidgen, though.
And so, the dreaded question arrived once more. "Are you sure you saw Itadori Yuji kill the unidentified individual?"
Uraraka appeared visibly hesitant, "N-Not exactly... I mean, I saw what I saw, he pierced his chest with his claw, and then he stopped moving, but from what Bakugo-kun told us, he was already dead, and Itadori-kun meant that he... tried to end its suffering and -"
"Apologies, but I wasn't asking for interpretations or possible motives." He calmly interrupted her, his smile shifting into a more friendly warning one to which Uraraka flinched slightly. "As friendly advice, you should keep in mind - even if you are a Licensed Hero, you do not have the authority to 'end' someone's suffering. That is for the judicial system and the person himself to take responsibility for, not anyone else."
She nodded, "Right." She found no reason to argue; it was right.
But oddly, it felt wrong when attached to what Yuji did.
"Now, what did you see?"
She nodded and confirmed what likely her other classmates reported, "From where I watched, Itadori-kun killed it... but it wasn't alive-"
Interrupted, again. "That's up to forensics to determine and identify. If it wasn't alive, then how did it move?"
Her lips parted to mutter a possible explanation, only for the calm detective to be a step ahead of her. "Puppetered Corpse? Or any other possibility?"
He smiled sadly, "Trust me, we've seen it all. Worse than you can likely think of. But that is besides the point, for now, what matters is to know the facts before we can deduce whether this is a case of self-defense killing or a lesser offense if it was already a broken, dead man, or even a puppet."
His words were slow, steady, and easy to understand, something Uraraka appreciated.
She almost got the inkling he was subtly teaching her on the judicial system, or perhaps it was the bias of being a U.A. Hero Program student.
Though she couldn't fight off the bitterness still lingering on her tongue, and the detective's next inquiry did no favor in clearing out said bitterness.
In fact, it only heightened the bitter shame.
"Speaking of things I've seen..."
"How about we discuss the unprecedented?" He smiled, but his calm smile appeared a bit more on edge.
"A curiosity your classmates mentioned witnessing was the Itadori Yuji's victim getting his Quirk dismantled, destroyed... is this true?"
An almost primal fear took hold of Uraraka's whole visage.
The memory was still raw and fresh, her eyes dilating as she found herself almost back in the USJ, witnessing it happen from afar once again.
Like an unscratchable itch on the back of her throat, as if her very Quirk quaked, trembled in fear at the sight before her, as Yuji muttered that distant, foreboding 'Dismantle'.
A shiver crawled its way to the back of her neck, as she nodded in confirmation despite how... shameful it was to feel such fear towards someone she considered a friend.
"Yeah."
The answer didn't seem to satisfy the detective, as his lips visibly fell to a thin line as he replied with another question. "How can you be so sure? What indication of a Quirk being 'dismantled' could there be? An emitter turning off or meeting its limit could explain the feats of the invader."
Uraraka could hear it, feel it, see it:
The disbelief and utter bewilderment dripping from the detective's tone with a transparent frustration.
She wasn't the first to relay this outlandish declaration towards him, she was certain.
Pausing, as her lips pursed and her head lowered in slight contemplation and hesitation. "You could be right, but... It's hard to explain." She lifted her head, the shameful emotion of fear fluttering in her gaze as she met with the detective's own baffled look. "I could just... feel it. Like distant screams, like someone's life ending in front of you but not really, I've never thankfully seen someone die, but... It's hard to explain."
"My... my hands moved to try and touch something not there, to try and calm my own Quirk, I've never felt like this, so..." She bit her lips, "So scared... I couldn't tell that it was a Quirk being erased by just sight, maybe it was, I wanted to deny it... but the feeling that coursed through myself and all my classmates, that can't be faked."
She grew a bit more hopeful as she added, "I-I just hope it was a temporary thing, like Aizawa-sensei's Quirk."
Once more, the detective appeared honest and transparent, "I pray that is the case as well." He admitted with a nod.
Slowly, his lips curled back up to that flawless, practiced smile, "Thank you, Uraraka-san. I'll have the station call your parents to pick you up. For the meantime, until this investigation is over, the events of the USJ are to be kept to yourself, okay?"
She nodded, a small, bitter smile of gratitude on her face. "Thanks. I'll go home on my own, though. I don't wanna trouble Mom and Dad."
"Sorry, kido, it's policy."
The gravity-girl could only answer with a resigned nod at the detective's apologetic order.
"Oh, before I go."
"Yeah?"
"It..." She hesitated, contemplating the right way to express herself, until a strange resolve crossed her features once she shook her head to compose herself.
She admitted without a single moment of hesitation, despite the mixed emotions the entire situation had given her and likely her classmates:
"It was self-defense. Todo-kun and Itadori-kun saved us. Please, don't punish them." She bowed deeply, almost pleading.
It was obvious, from just witnessing the fight between Yuji, Aoi, and that abomination.
There was no telling what would have happened if they weren't there to... deal with it.
On that, she and her classmates could agree, at least, not including the egotistical ones.
Tsukauchi, in that instant, met her plea with a proud and content smile. "Don't worry."
-------------------------------
Detective Naomasa Tsukauchi allowed himself to groan amid the now-empty investigation room.
He had been going at it from the afternoon up to just a little beyond midnight, and now he's left to investigate the heart of the matter minus the trespassing villains.
"I'm going to need at least three espressos the next morning once they finish getting treated. Should let Shota know to be less rough with them next time."
He barely got to question a few bumbling fools and get no more than:
League Of Villains.
Kill All Might - that one might have been the funniest joke he's heard in the last few years, not even Miss Joke could beat that one.
Their leader was the lanky individual in the hospital getting his face fixed, and that mist-gated porter, what a dangerous Quirk that was.
'Just great, another villain group. Don't they get sick of them?' Tsukauchi wondered with notable exasperation.
A knock on his door prompted his return to professional composure, "Who is it?"
"It's Kenji. And guests. Woof." The visitor announced himself and fittingly hadn't requested permission to enter, as he just turned the knob and opened the door with a creak.
Revealing the dog-headed chief of Police with a few notable guests:
"Tsukauchi, I've missed you~!" Nezu's cheerful wave almost demanded a glare of irritation to settle on him.
Especially when he could tell the rat-bear-thing was lying.
Though what had roused both his suspicion and understanding was the appearance of a familiar figure and close friend. "Toshinori?"
The tall blonde skeleton smiled with an uneasy smile, a wave with his single free hand as his other hand held a collection of paperwork. "Sorry for the trouble, Naomasa."
Huffing and shaking his head good-naturedly, Tsukauchi retorted, "Always apologizing for nothing. You, compared to others, only lessen my problems."
With a small uplift of his smile, Toshinori nodded appreciatively.
"I'm afraid I don't have enough seats for everyone, so one moment-" Desperate times called for desperate measures as Tsukauchi went to another door that led to a small storage room within the interrogation room.
There, he managed to scrounge up three plastic chairs and settle them neatly beside his own chair.
Thankfully, none of his would-be visitors were heteromorphic; otherwise, he'd have to scrounge up the Detnerat-produced foldable chairs, and those were a hassle to put down.
Sitting down at his gesture, Tsukauchi murmured with clear anxious skepticism. "Since you are here, Toshinori. I take it this is related to All For One?" He pointed at what was familiarly and clearly forensic result papers.
Toshinori nodded, his sharp blue eyes narrowing in an almost petrifying gaze. His frail fists were tightening so strongly that a coarse creak echoed lightly in the room. "It's highly possible." He didn't want to believe it.
Nezu voiced his opinion, "It's also very likely that these are his mere remnants, showing their faces in an attempt to seek vengeance on All Might for what he had done against their master."
It was an option, indeed, but even Nezu seemed to believe in it as much as he believed that the sun wouldn't rise tomorrow.
It could just spontaneously explode, but the chance was so abysmal it might as well not be the case.
"I made sure to hunt down all those affiliated with him and bring them to justice. As for All For One... I hoped he hadn't survived our battle." The memory was as fresh as could be for Toshinori.
He, All Might, had lost too much at the hands of that Villain.
His teacher.
His health.
And he wasn't the only one.
He could never forget the feeling of that wretch's skull exploding from his fist; as much as he hated that feeling, he couldn't help but feel justified and satisfied.
Yet, the bane of his life, like a persistent cockroach, had refused to perish, much like he did after that battle.
But a decimated stomach couldn't compare to a head exploding, now can it?
Nodding with a pacifying expression, Tsukauchi inquired, though he could practically infer just from the conversation alone, "The forensic results?"
Toshinori extended his hand and handed Tsukauchi the report, to which the latter slowly began reading.
Whilst that went on, Nezu elaborated with a neutral yet vividly curious tone. "At first, it seemed that the information was inconclusive. The Police's local forensic and Quirk Experts fell short in explaining what had occurred to the Quirk Factor. They only managed to get a strange string of DNA mixtures of long-deceased individuals, as well as an ID."
"A shame to admit so, Woof." Kenji expressed his sincere remorse.
Tsukauchi lifted his head from the paper and turned to Nezu, who continued, "As you can likely guess without requiring my vast intellect, the ID is of a long-deceased individual as well. Tai Kudo."
Lowering his head, he gave a reading of the report, "Deceased more than a year ago, Hosu General Hospital. Shock Absorption."
Recalling the reports of the students he questioned, he understood the truth of the statement, "If that is the case, how is it that our experts fail in understanding the state of the body's Quirk Factor?"
Nezu grinned good-naturedly as he replied with a simple and honest truth:
"It's been torn apart."
...
Tsukauchi fell to silence, and so did the rest of the room, to which Nezu mercilessly pressed on:
"Fortunately, we managed to get a hold of Doctor Garaki to take a look at the Quirk Factor; his expertise in Quirk biology and metabiology is even greater than my own." He hadn't a string of shame in that admission.
"And he had managed to confirm that, indeed, the corpse held multiple Quirks."
The quiet was deafening.
Snorting, Nezu waved his hand in dismissal, "Though I believe we can double-check that information with the last of my two students who have yet to be questioned."
...
"At least I don't have to deal with a murder case for one of my first years again! HAHAHAHAHHAHAAHAHA!"
To Be Continued!
-Author Note Start-
Hello champs.
Hope the chapter's been to your enjoyment and such.
This won't run long, about 2 chapters left as far as I can see.
Next chapter is Todo's deception lmao.
LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.
Admittedly, it might be a sign of mental illness if I laugh at my own jokes.
Anyway, bu bye!
