Tsutsumi rode his bike straight toward U.A., the engine humming low beneath him as the campus came into view. Even from a distance, he could already see the mob of reporters clustered around the front gates like vultures. Cameras flashed. Microphones stuck out like spears. Every single one of them was shouting over the others, desperate to snatch whatever scrap of scandal they could from the aftermath of the Summer Camp attack.
Tsutsumi slowed his crimson motorcycle just enough to take in the scene. He sat comfortably in the seat, wearing his blue metal-textured leather jacket, the red helmet covering most of his expression. Not that anyone could see it.
Attack Ride: Invisible!
The low electronic chime resonated through the air for a brief second, and then, he and the motorcycle faded out of sight completely.
The reporters kept yelling at empty space, unaware he had already bypassed them.
Tsutsumi drove straight past the wall, the invisible bike rolling smoothly along the path leading deeper into U.A. grounds. Once he crossed far enough that no one from outside could see him, he dismounted the motorcycle and dismissed his invisibility.
He stepped off the motorcycle with a quiet click of his boots against the pavement.
The entire campus was silent, eerily so. Summer Vacation meant no crowds of students, no chatter echoing down the halls, no teachers patrolling. Just open walkways, sunlight reflecting off empty windows, and the faint rustling of warm wind brushing across the massive school grounds.
Tsutsumi shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and started walking.
His pace was casual, almost lazy, like he wasn't trespassing, like the school belonged to him and everyone else just hadn't realized it yet. The silence suited him. Each step echoed faintly, bouncing back from the vacant buildings.
...
Inside the main council room, every U.A. staff member was gathered around the long table, their voices overlapping as they discussed the Summer Camp attack. Papers were spread everywhere, coffee cups half-empty, and even Aizawa looked more awake than usual.
Fortunately, aside from Midoriya doing what Midoriya usually did, hurting himself, no other students were seriously injured. Because of that, the press didn't have enough fuel to tear U.A. apart this time.
"Before we continue…" Nezu lifted one paw, his tone oddly cheerful as he looked toward the door. "Is there something you would like to share with us?"
The entire room froze. Every head turned toward the entrance.
A second later...
"Took you long enough," came Tsutsumi's voice, completely relaxed, as he pushed the door open.
He strolled in like he'd been invited to a picnic, holding a kettle in one hand and a cup in the other.
"Young Tsutsumi?" All Might blinked in surprise, his skinny frame shifting in his seat.
Across the table, Aizawa narrowed his eyes. "Problem child. What's the matter this time?"
It wasn't an unfair question. Tsutsumi Ryoko dropping by school willingly was about as rare as Endeavor making a good parenting decision.
"Well-" Tsutsumi began, but he was cut off by a deep, rumbling growl from across the room.
A few papers on the table vibrated from the force of it.
Tsutsumi paused and slowly turned his head. So did everyone else.
Hound Dog was sitting there, yellow fur bristling, teeth bared, glaring at Tsutsumi like he'd just found a burglar in his living room. The growl only got louder.
Tsutsumi blinked once. Then he tilted his head and asked Nezu in the most casual tone possible, loud enough for the whole room to hear.:
"Did you get him castrated or something? Why's he getting all hissy-pissy upon seeing a student?"
Everyone: "..."
Aizawa pinched the bridge of his nose. Present Mic looked around awkwardly. Vlad King stared at the table. All Might just sighed. Midnight fought a smile. Cementoss narrowed his gaze toward his coworker.
Hound Dog, meanwhile, only growled harder.
Nezu gave a soft chuckle, covering his small mouth with a paw as he watched Tsutsumi calmly pour himself water like nothing was happening. "No, nothing of the sort. Hound Dog is simply upset because you keep skipping classes. And slip passed him all the time."
"Oh." Tsutsumi nodded as if that explained everything. "Skill issue."
Hound Dog's ears shot straight up.
A few teachers coughed into their hands. Others just looked away, pretending to be busy with documents.
At this point, Tsutsumi Ryoko's reputation around U.A. was already well-established. In terms of ability, he was absurdly advanced enough that even some Pro Heroes quietly admitted he'd surpassed them. But in terms of mentality and personality, he could be said to be underdeveloped at times.
Unlike most people, he didn't bother pretending. If he liked someone, he showed it. If he didn't, he didn't put on a smile or play nice. Several people labeled him "immature" or "arrogant," but Nezu didn't seem to mind at all. If anything, he found it amusing.
Pretending to get along often hid more danger than honesty. Tsutsumi's blunt behavior tended to break the masks off others, forcing them to reveal how they actually felt. It made his circle small, but genuine.
Which, in Nezu's opinion, was far more valuable.
Tsutsumi finally finished pouring and took a slow sip of his drink.
"So," he said, looking around at the table full of teachers, "where were we?"
"Right, we're getting off topic," Nezu said calmly, before Hound Dog's blood pressure found a new, unexplored height.
The small Principal's dark, bead-like eyes shifted toward Tsutsumi, who had somehow migrated from the doorway to sitting comfortably on the council table as if it were a park bench.
"What is it you want to discuss, Young Tsutsumi?"
"There's a rat in U.A.," Tsutsumi said plainly, taking a slow sip of water. He added, without even looking back at Nezu, "And no, I'm not talking about the Principal."
Several teachers stiffened. Hound Dog growled again. Nezu blinked once, amused.
"Oh? And what leads you to that conclusion?" Nezu asked, more curious than offended.
"Well, first of all, you're more of a chimera," Tsutsumi replied, as if it were common knowledge. "A single organism with multiple distinct genotypes. So calling you a rat would be scientifically inaccurate."
A few teachers stared at him, unsure whether he was joking or serious.
Tsutsumi continued anyway. "Secondly, the Summer Camp attack wasn't some random accident. It was planned."
Nezu let out a soft, slightly unhinged chuckle before he composed himself again. "Impressive. I've been called many things, but 'chimera' is new. And considering… well, my past, it's not entirely inaccurate."
A few staff members shifted, remembering Nezu's rather grim origin story, quirk-awakened animal, captured, experimented on, genetically poked and prodded until he outsmarted everyone involved.
"Ahem," Aizawa coughed loudly, cutting through that line of thought before Nezu spiraled into one of his reminiscing moods. "Back to the rat. Please."
"Right, right." Tsutsumi waved lazily, then straightened slightly. "I can say confidently that U.A. has a rat."
Taking into account his observations and Azu's analysis, they've narrowed it to roughly an eighty-nine percent probability that someone in U.A. is working for the villain.
"For starters, let's go back to where this all began," Tsutsumi said, slipping off the table and leaning casually beside Nezu's chair. "Nezu, U.A.'s security gate is pretty tight, right?"
"Indeed. Without authorization or very specific skill sets, such as yours, entering or leaving U.A. without detection is nearly impossible." Nezu nodded. His eyes slid toward Hound Dog. "And Hound Dog manages on-campus security. If anyone unauthorized slipped inside, he would sense it immediately and inform me."
Receiving praise, Hound Dog's chest puffed up slightly. For once, the growling died down.
Security work was a thankless job. People only noticed when something went wrong, so a bit of acknowledgment went a long way.
Tsutsumi waited for Hound Dog to finish being proud before he casually dropped, "Okay. What if the rat was already inside U.A. and had already gotten an identity as someone who can be trusted?"
The room froze. More than one person blinked.
Weren't they just talking about the school security? How come it suddenly switches to the mole already being inside without any follow-up or build-up?
"That's possible," Nezu admitted. "I've considered the same. But with no concrete leads, randomly accusing staff or students would be irresponsible."
"Then," Tsutsumi said, pushing off the desk, "let's start from the beginning."
He lifted a hand.
"Back during the USJ incident, everything could be written off as bad luck. Villains got hold of some All Might–killing creature, rumors spread that All Might was teaching here, and they attacked a U.A. training facility. Just so happened to be the one where his class was."
The staff nodded. Yes, that explanation made sense.
Ectoplasm scribbled notes rapidly.
Tsutsumi continued, "Yet, the Summer Camp incident was nothing more than a planned attack."
He raised one finger. "First off, that forest was owned by those Pussycats, and U.A. was just collaborating with them. There is no way that place could be mistaken for a U.A. training facility."
A second finger. "Their target was me, meaning they have a clear goal and target when they attack the camp. So they didn't just accidentally come up there by chance and just so happened to run into us."
A few teachers exchanged looks at how casually he said that.
A third finger. "And lastly, this Summer Camp was organized by U.A. and the Pussycats, meaning the only people who should know about this place, and its schedule are U.A. staff, the Pussycats, and the Students from 1-A and 1-B."
The room went into an uncomfortable quiet, and fully aware of the implications.
Tsutsumi took another sip of water.
"Fascinating. So, do you have any idea how to locate this rat?" Nezu asked with a bright, too-pleasant smirk aimed at Tsutsumi.
"You have that detective who can tell lies, right? Have him check the current suspects. Ask the right question and we'll know who's lying." Tsutsumi replied as if the solution were painfully obvious.
The staff instantly knew who he meant, Detective Tsukauchi Naomasa, the man with the Lie Detector Quirk.
"Oh? So you figured that out as well?" Nezu murmured, tapping his chin with his tiny paw.
Tsutsumi rolled his eyes. "You didn't believe me when I told you how I got my combat experience. Then you talked to the detective and suddenly believed me. Not exactly hard to connect the dots."
"Indeed. Your observation skills truly are… something," Nezu said with a pleased smile. "So, Young Tsutsumi, what exactly should we have the detective ask the suspects?"
"Tch." Tsutsumi clicked his tongue lightly. "You're the Principal. Tell the detective to ask every suspect if they told anyone, anyone at all, who shouldn't know about the Summer Camp, information about the Summer Camp. If they lie, then they are more likely to be the mole."
Nezu's smile somehow widened. He looked like he'd just received a birthday present. "I had a similar approach in mind. I simply wondered if you had something even more interesting tucked away in that head of yours."
"That'd just be pointless," Tsutsumi said bluntly. He shoved his hands into his pockets. "Anyway, you've got my plan. Don't screw it up. I'd rather not drag that mole out myself."
He pulled out a card without any ceremony.
Attack Ride: Invisible!
His figure blinked out of sight right there in the council room. No one panicked, or even flinched. For U.A.'s staff, this was just… normal. Tsutsumi had long built up a reputation of appearing and disappearing around campus like an overly powered stray cat. As long as he wasn't hurting anybody, they can chose to ignore the technical rule-breaking.
Even after Tsutsumi vanished, Nezu's smile didn't fade for a moment. He turned his chair slightly and clapped his paws together.
"Let's contact Detective Tsukauchi immediately," Nezu said in a cheerful tone that absolutely did not match the weight of the topic. "It seems our little rat hunt is about to begin."