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One stone, two stones, three stones… Oh, that one was such a pretty one, I shouldn’t have thrown it mindlessly. The third stone skipped the surface of water once, twice, thrice, six times in total before sinking. It reached eight metres away from the shore and the thrower.
One flashing light, another, and a third. The fourth actually hurt, obviously intended to hurt. But he thought how it was so pretty just before it connected with his shoulder, it reminded him of the New Year fireworks, sparking in all directions before fizzling out, just like Kacchan’s quirk. He would have to put some gauze over that burn, that’s for sure.
One bad grade, and another, and a third, this time in chemistry. He knew he aced the chemistry test. He knew Kacchan aced it as well, but only Kacchan was allowed to show off his measly intelligence in the stable that was their middle school.
One screech, a yelp, a scream. The strong smell of blood he had long gotten used to. After all, you don’t get out uninjured when confronted with Katsuki. He didn’t intend for this to happen. He heard a cry for help and rushed, as any concerned -suicidal, self-destructive, maniac- citizen would. He found a man double his height assaulting a woman his size. It was almost comical. So he decided to trade himself for her. The man had been drugged off his ass just enough to not mind the change. The woman ran and he heard her call the police, relaying the situation and the place. He laid beneath the behemoth of a man, before he hit him square on the nose with his forehead, which produced a screech. Then he angled his knees just right, and lunged lower body first into the man’s nethers. It made a yelp, but it was stopped when he plunged a set of very much sharpened pencils into the man’s eyes. And the man screamed. He waited for the police.
One baton, one concealed gun, a shitty hat, and an exasperated face. That’s what came to him that night. That’s what took him to the police station. That’s what sat before him right now, reading what he guessed was his school file and anything else that he might have gathered based on his name. ‘’I haven’t introduced myself before, I apologise. My name is Tsukauchi Naomasa. And you might be?’’ And now, that was not that anymore, but a who. It became a person. Dull brown eyes, dull face, thin lips, flat eyebrows. Average, almost invisible in a crowd. This was a man who could tell if you were lying or not based on your answer. He had a Truth quirk. He deemed it only natural that he answers.
‘’Midoriya Izuku, sir.’’ He said no more. No more was needed, after all, for the man to confirm that his answer was truthful. He knew that he was making the man’s job harder than it had to be, that he could just say it all and be done with it, but honestly - he was done with everything at this point. So lets take the fun way for once. No more dismissed and bullied and hated and ridiculedcuddledcoddlednonexistentquirklessnotrealisticpolicemantobehomelessmotherlesslesslesslessless Midoriya Izuku.
One moment, two people, and three sentences drew Tsukauchi Naomasa to the wall. Literally. He scrambled out of his chair and pushed himself to the farthest wall of the interrogation room. Midoriya Izuku was a monster. He gave him three answers, three sentences, and he never felt his quirk act like this. It was like an alarm blaring in his head, telling him that the danger is right in front of him, in the form of an underfed seventeen-year-old boy who both did a good deed and committed a crime in a span of minutes.
Tsukauchi Naomasa was, by all means, a rational person. He didn’t believe in ghosts, supernatural was not his niche, and logic paired with a good yet unassuming quirk did well for him. Tsukauchi Naomasa was a detective hardened by years of hard work and cold cases that limelight heroes could not solve and ones where undergrounders could not help him because of restrictions put in by HPSC. He knew what happened. And he kept quiet, for his own good. You could not see the world in black and white, when various shades of grey mingled and obscured a perfect pair of rose-tinted glasses. That was something for when you are still a child, if you got it. To be a child, that is. He didn’t know about others, but Midoriya Izuku did not have that childhood laid out for him.
Midoriya Izuku was an underfed child, something he already noticed and noted by his sucked-in cheeks and protruding cheekbones. By his frail shoulders, all too visible veins, and a slouch so similar to his friend’s. He had a ponytail full of curly green hair with black highlights on his shoulder, it reaching his stomach. It was long. As long as his supposed disappearance after his middle school graduation. In August two years ago, little after he turned fifteen and was being homeschooled, a fire happened. It took his mother, and they thought him as well, but they didn’t find a body. It took his home as well, but there was no sign of him. So they put up a poster for a missing child. Nobody came in. They were left with a ghost. And now he was sitting before him, nonchalant like he hadn’t said what he did.
One shiver, two blinks, and three deep sighs were what took the detective to regain some calmness, thought Midoriya Izuku. The man had more to him than it seemed at a first glance. No wonder he was worthy of being All Might’s dear friend and a confidante. Well not that it mattered much, he was just another one of them. Those who had a quirk, who could something with it, but would be lost without it. He was disappointed, again. Midoriya Izuku blinked, going back into his memories while he waited for the man to feel less threatened.
He taught a child how to insert needles into the severed arms of a man who tortured her. He taught a boy his age how to manipulate his way out of problems that his peers gave him for his quirk, and now he was in the Hero Course in Yuuei, 2-A of all at that. He taught another boy how to please the crowd and increase his body contact, and made him into a weapon that he wanted nothing to do with. With three more clocks on his waist, all of them with a ten-minute countdown, he was at the top of 2-B. It was funny how they all needed help with their quirks, and got it from a quirkless nobody. They didn’t know his name. Nor his real face. He has been a ghost for past two years, and will continue as such.
‘’Midoriya Izuku, can you explain your excessive actions against Takake Kari previous to this conversation? As of now, the man in question has been dead for about-’’ Tsukauchi looked to his watch, ’’roughly 30 minutes. You could have helped. You could have stopped the bleeding and redeemed yourself a bit.’’
‘’A behemoth nearing three metres in height wanting to rape women does not deserve mercy or help, and he was on my target list for a while now, it took me a long time to catch up to him, with him jumping from Nagasaki to fucking Hongkong for pleasure; I’m sure that you know his codename, detective Tsukauchi, it’s the famous ‘Jack Off-Jack On’ we’re talking about.’’
The first sentence.
‘’I-a-I-uh, I was not informed of this man’s identity before confronting you, Midoriya. But even then, I must insist on saying that your actions were wrong. I do not mean you stopping him, but you hurting him, killing him.’’ Tsukauchi’s quirk was jumping around confirming every word that Midoriya Izuku gave him, which meant that he was being completely honest. That scared him, honestly. Usually, even the most innocent person would slip a lie here or there, mostly unconsciously. Such a ‘clean slate’ answer was not something Tsukauchi was used to. ‘’By your behaviour, am I allowed to think that this was not your first time committing such an act of violence?’’
Midoriya snorted, something akin to amusement in his dull, greenish eyes. He saw that they were leaning to grey under the bright light of the lightbulb. ‘’Far from it, actually I think that I’ve killed more people than you’ve solved cases, detective; but I’ve made changes that you never could, not even All Might could, unfortunately, also-’’ Midoriya Izuku seated himself more comfortably, ’’I think that you should know that every corpse with a seared in pigeon scar is my doing.’’
The second sentence.
Tsukauchi could not breathe. Numerous cold cases that haunted him for four years now were being connected and apparently, they were committed by a child. His first Peace murder, Kai Chisaki, also known as Overhaul, happened four years ago. He was found with severed hands and numerous needles inserted in him, the substances in his body basically rotted him from inside because of the chemical reactions. The child that was left in the police’s care told them how her hero was strong enough to save her from Big Bad, how the barely three-year-old described the murdered.
Then came the others, always branded with the same sign. And he flinched as he remembered the newest victim, if he could even call it that. It was just a decapitated head with tubes still connected to its mouth. On its forehead was a clear pigeon insignia.
‘’Overhaul, Muscular, Moonfish, Garaki Tsubasa, Sludge, Takoyama Yasei,’’ Midoriya’s middle school teacher, Tsukauchi thought, ‘’Giran, Stendhal, Endeavour, Re-Destro, Trumpet, Sceptic, the whole MLA organisation, minus the citizens, Gigantomachia, Kurogiri, Shigaraki Tomura, 34 HPSC higher-ups, and…’’ Tsukauchi had to say it. He had to. Only with him would the list be over, if they’ve even found all the victims. ‘’And All For One, the king of underworld.’’ His eyes, rimmed with red from fright, madness, anger, desperation, roamed over the body of Midoriya Izuku. How could he do so much, and he could not even bring himself to calm down, it was a far too gone option by now. ‘’You’re the famous Peace Pigeon… Tell me, who is your next target?’’ But he got no answer, the boy just shook his head at his hysterics. The table trembled from the force with which he hit it while standing up. ‘’Who is your next target, Midoriya Izuku!’’
Midoriya Izuku sighed, disappointed. He thought that the man would be more rational, but then remembered, it’s normal to be scared, hysterical, scared when standing before the image of death. He thought deep into the confines of his memories. Doesn’t matter, soon enough, that person will die without HIS help, all he needs is to nip that boy’s only help with a knife and hot pigeon shaped branding rod.
‘’Tsukauchi Naomasa, I am sorry that I have to inform you that Toshinori Yagi is my next target, and he is due to die any minute now due to the arsenic poisoning and severe burn on his chest.’’
And with that, Bakugou Katsuki would lose all his leads to mastering One For All, and would kill himself trying to find a way to prove himself the real successor to All Might.
And with that, Tsukauchi Naomasa had only one thought in his mind.
We’ve created a monster.