44

Kajiro Akamoto was a paranoid man at the best of times. He had to be given his line of work, that being a drug and occasional arms dealer for the seediest parts of society. He always had the feeling that he was being watched, and he was adamant that there were many instances where he'd notice a shape in his periphery while out and about, but the shape would always vanish into the shadows when he turned to look. No matter how quickly he pounced to catch it in the act, the shape was always just a little bit faster. He couldn't be sure if he was losing his mind or if he was simply too used to having to look over his shoulder 24/7, but the end result was that he was always on his toes.

Tonight was no different. He was contacted by one of his suppliers about a new piece of support tech that could completely change the game. He was always skeptical whenever people said that, as it usually ended up being some shoddy pea shooter that some wacko slapped together in their basement or an ostensibly unsafe gadget that a crooked support technician attempted to reverse engineer. However, this particular contact always provided him with wares that were of adequate quality if not a bit experimental at times, and Akamoto always made good money selling their stuff, so he would hear them out.

With his mask secured over his mouth and a revolver tucked into his waistband, stepped out of his car behind the empty warehouse that was their designated meeting place. He silently wandered under the darkness of the night sky into the darkness of the warehouse like a man who had traversed these unsettling paths many times before. Within moments of entering through the open loading dock, he saw a curtain of crimson hair, but not the crimson hair he was familiar with. This hair was long, shiny, and belonged to a woman. Said woman had a black domino mask over her bored, blue eyes that quickly assessed and dismissed him, seemingly unimpressed.

Rather than be indignant at being brushed off, Akamoto's gaze left her and fell onto the man wrapped from head to toe in maroon bandages that was partially immersed in the shadows and eyeing him carefully. Akamoto had never met either of these two before, and the inkling that he was set up was beginning to set in before a voice he did recognize entered the room.

"Finally, you're here," came a voice from the shadows, and out from the darkness soundlessly entered Kusari with a pleased smile. "I was beginning to think you were gonna be a no-show."

"Edgelord as always," Akamoto sighed, already tired of his weapon supplier's "dark and mysterious" shtick. "You've never come with backup before. What gives?"

"Just in case you were followed," Kusari shrugged. "This time is special, so I wasn't going to leave anything up to chance."

"Right…" Akamoto muttered, mildly unsettled by the response. "You said you had revolutionary tech?"

Kusari nodded before bringing a large, silver case from the shadows. "How familiar are you with trigger?"

"I sell quite a bit of it," Akamoto answered with a quirked eyebrow. "Some kinds are more gnarly than others. Why?"

"I have something that will make trigger obsolete," Kusari responded, and the loud click of him unlatching the case nearly startled Akamoto.

"…That's kind of a hard sell to someone who makes a lot of money off the trigger trade, don't you think?" Akamoto warily replied, though his interest was piqued.

Kusari's smirk became downright predatory once he sensed that he had Akamoto's attention. "Just have a look."

Akamoto sighed and ran his hand through his shaggy, black hair before taking a step forward to peer into the open case. Inside sat a silver, sleek, crab-like piece of headgear. It looked substantially higher tech than anything he had gotten from Kusari in the past.

"What am I looking at?" he asked.

"They called it the Quirk Amplification Device on I-Island," Kusari nonchalantly answered, his smirk growing darker when Akamoto's eyes widened. "We reverse-engineered it and want to do some field testing before kicking off mass production."

"I-Island?!" Akamoto choked out, and his mask slipped off in his stupor, revealing his mouth full of rows of razor-sharp teeth. "How in the FUCK did you get I-Island tech?"

"You're asking way too many questions for someone who wants to return home alive."

"Point taken," Akamoto quickly conceded, reapplying his mask. "What does it do, exactly?"

"Boosts the user's quirk to levels beyond what ordinary trigger could accomplish without any of the drawbacks," Kusari answered, then he turned to his two comrades. "Slice, Mummy if you would."

Nodding in compliance, Slice stepped up with a smirk of her own and retrieved the QAD from the case, meanwhile, Mummy shot his bandages out to several scattered pallets, barrels, and rusted hunks of metal to transform them into dozens of puppets ready for battle. Slice put the QAD on, and the effects were immediate. A purple, staticky aura began to emanate from her, and her eyes glowed a bright purple atop her newly blackened sclera.

"You might want to step back-" Kusari began to say before realizing that Akamoto was way ahead of him, already taking cover around the corner and merely poking an eye out to watch the show.

Snorting, he returned his gaze to the display, loving the explosion of power he was feeling at the QAD's activation on Slice. The usual collection of monstrous blades that hovered behind her when she was ready for battle was now a bloodthirsty hurricane of crimson death as she sprang into action against Mummy's puppets. The overwhelming cyclone of blades and red needles tore through Mummy's army of puppets like soaking wet tissue in a matter of seconds and carved through the surrounding concrete with next to no issue. Kusari leered at the display with satisfaction pouring out of him, whereas Akamoto fearfully thought back on all of his life choices that brought him to this point.

"Trigger can raise a C-rank villain to a B-rank, or a B-rank to an A-rank," Kusari chuckled gravely, his smile growing even more nefarious. "This device can turn a B-rank into an S-rank."

The fear in Akamoto's eyes quickly transformed into yen signs as he soaked in the destruction wrought by Slice's hair. His typical clientele were small-time thugs and low-level villains at best. Trigger was cheap, both in price and in composition. Not only was it highly addictive, but the variants made in Asia also only lasted a few minutes at best, and American trigger was a bitch and a half to smuggle into Japan, so most competent villains didn't even bother with it. The smaller guys, on the other hand, had less powerful quirks, fewer resources, and less creativity, so they were far more willing to risk it for whatever half-baked scheme they wanted to pull off.

This device, though, was a game-changer that any villain would be willing to fork over big bucks for…

"So…" Kusari drawled, sidling up beside Akamoto with his dark smile still in place. "Interested?"

"Very," Akamoto muttered, a crooked grin of his own developing.

He'd be fucking rolling in money when it was all said and done. It was almost enough to assuage his anxiety about the next meeting he had later that week with Weaver, his Zoo Trigger supplier. The fact that she contacted him at all gave him pause given there had been nothing but radio silence ever since they froze him out of their operation. That had only made his paranoia about being followed that much worse, so combining it with the sinking feeling the future meeting was giving him was not at all what he needed. Still, Zoo Trigger was making him good money, and Weaver was a professional, so he'd go and hear her out.

"Vlad King and I discussed with the other teachers in attendance for your battles," Aizawa said to an attentively listening 1-A. "For the most part, we were impressed with all of your performances. Some were better than others, but the consensus was that you were all ready for work-studies if you so chose."

As expected, the class erupted into cheers and celebration that was swiftly strangled by Aizawa's glowing glare.

"Remember, work-study is optional, so if you don't want to take that leap just yet, you're not required," he continued, his students having settled back down. "However, if you do, bear in mind that it will cut into your academic time. Absences will rack up, and keeping up with your schoolwork is entirely on you. Also, remember that we're only accepting agencies with proven track records, so be selective about who you want to work with. Some of you already have offers; Todoroki and Bakugo, Burnin has already sent a request to have the both of you. Tokoyami, you received some interest from Hawks in Kyushu."

His gaze then landed on Yaoyorozu in the back of the classroom. "Yaoyorozu, Verdant has an offer for you and a few others in lieu of work-studies if you're interested. See her after the school day is over. That's all I have for you all; you're free to do whatever for the rest of homeroom. Just keep it down."

As Aizawa proceeded to crawl into his sleeping back and inch out of the room like a scraggly caterpillar, the class returned to light yet no less excited chatter about the prospect of work-studies. Yaoyorozu, meanwhile, was still a bit taken aback by the news that Verdant wanted to see her specifically. If it was an offer for something in place of work-studies, it likely had to be some sort of special training, which she wouldn't have expected in a million years, even after Verdant went to bat for her to get her mother to allow her to continue the path of heroics. Was she worthy of such an honor?

The clearing of a throat snapped her out of her musing and brought her attention to none other than Izuku Midoriya standing before her desk with a serious expression. If that wasn't unnerving enough, Uraraka was beside him (how she had made her way over to this side of the classroom without her noticing, Yaoyorozu hadn't the faintest clue) bearing an expression just as grave as their class rep's. Their unblinking gazes were fixed on her, and it was beginning to make her sweat.

"Uh-"

"We'd like to formally congratulate you on your acceptance into the Midoriya Hellspawn Academy," Midoriya cut her off, and her two classmates bowed. "I and fellow alumni, Ochako and Bakugo, give you our warmest regards and wish you the best of luck."

…Of all the things she was expecting, that was not anywhere on the list. Still (ignoring the fierce denial from Bakugo at the mention of his name), perhaps it was the earnest bowing from her two friends, or perhaps it was the prospect of being inducted into some secret, exclusive club, but she'd be lying if she said she wasn't growing a touch excited.

"How good are you at dodging?" Uraraka suddenly asked, bringing Yaoyorozu back down from the beginnings of her elation.

"Oh, um…" she brought her hand up to her chin and considered the question. "I'd like to think that my evasion skills are adequate enough."

"You'll be a lot better at it once Sensei's done with you," Uraraka assured, and Midoriya nodded in agreement.

"I'll be available to mend any broken bones if Recovery Girl isn't," he added. "Congratulations once again."

As Midoriya and Uraraka shuffled away and returned to their seats, Yaoyorozu was left with a single thought breaking through her amused confusion:

'…Broken bones?'

"Now, in review, how do we go about efficiently crippling a nation's war effort?" Nezu asked his student from in front of a large whiteboard detailing "hypothetical" war plans.

Eri thought for a moment at her tiny desk, going over her notes and recollecting the information that Nezu had been relaying to her. "Burn or contaminate their food supply?"

"And?" Nezu asked, his smile growing ever so slightly.

Eri brought her hand to her chin in a mirror of her brother's same gesture when embroiled in a mumble storm, and then she brightened up when it finally came to her. "Destroy their ability to import resources!"

"Excellent!" Nezu cheered, causing Eri to beam. Then, a soft alert coming from his watch grabbed his attention, and he flipped the whiteboard to reveal a more traditional teacher classroom scene. "Eri, Interloper Protocol 3 is in effect."

Eri dutifully nodded and pulled out a math textbook from within the desk, sliding her notes into the cover before opening the book to a predesignated page. Nezu walked to the door and opened it, sending a thoroughly surprised Togeike a pleasant smile.

"Ah, Ms. Togeike, please come in," he welcomed the first-year general studies student into the room. "Please have a seat. Would you like a cup of tea?"

"Um, I'm fine, thank you," she managed after getting ahold of herself, not at all used to Nezu's antics. Then, she noticed Eri, and she smiled. "Hey there, squirt."

"Hi, Plant Mom!" Eri greeted back with the nickname she was given when Eri had trouble pronouncing her surname at first.

"So, to what do I owe the visit?" Nezu asked Togeike when they were finally situated at his desk.

"Um, well," she stammered while fiddling with her hands, "I was wondering if access to the training grounds was limited to hero course students and support tech testing."

"Oh?" Nezu queried, his interest piqued. "Might you be interested in training to get into the hero course?"

"N-No, no," she quickly denied, then she hesitated. "I mean, I don't think so? I don't really know, honestly."

Nezu nodded and took a sip of his tea. "Do go on."

After a brief moment to gather her thoughts, Togeike continued. "I lived the majority of my life without a quirk, so I'm not really used to having one now that I do, especially one that I'm learning is really dangerous when my control slips. Thanks for setting me up with quirk counseling, by the way."

"You're very welcome," Nezu replied. "Please, continue."

Togeike nodded. "I never really thought about being a hero, not having a quirk and all. But… now that I have one, a really powerful one at that…"

She sighed. "I don't have any strong desire to be a hero, but I feel like it would be selfish of me if I didn't at least try for heroics, you know? What good would I be if I didn't put these powers to use? Would I just be the same waste of space I've always been?"

A brief silence fell over the room as Nezu considered all that he had heard. Even Eri's doe-eyed gaze was planted on Togeike while the teenager in question nervously clasped her hands together. There was quite a bit to unpack from that, and Nezu would certainly try his best for one of his students.

"Why don't you begin by telling me why it is that you feel obligated to pursue a career in heroics?" Nezu asked, pouring another cup of tea and sliding it over to her despite her earlier refusal.

Togeike eyed the offered cup for a moment before accepting it and taking a sip, and a contented sigh escaped her. "Well, everyone wanted to be a hero growing up. It was just the way things were. Everyone looked up to All Might, Endeavor, Crust, the Wild, Wild Pussycats; you know how it goes."

"But not you?" Nezu questioned.

"Eh, it wasn't really my speed," she shrugged. "Even if everyone wasn't going out of their way to remind me that I couldn't be a hero without a quirk, I never really bought into the hype. Still, I was always top of my class, so when my teacher announced to everyone that I had been accepted into UA since it's one of the best schools in the nation, people were…"

"Indignant?" Nezu finished.

"Bitter, more like," Togeike scoffed. "It was all, 'A quirkless kid doesn't deserve a spot at UA over someone with a strong quirk,' every single day until the school year mercifully ended."

"I take it that several of your classmates applied, as well," Nezu nodded in understanding.

"And none of them made it past the entrance exam," she confirmed with a chuckle. "Serves them right."

"So, where does that leave you?"

Togeike was silent for a moment, sipping more of her tea while she thought over the question."All my life, everyone always said that kids with strong quirks would become great heroes. Well, I have a strong quirk now, and I'm already at UA, so… now what?"

Nezu hummed, now having a clearer understanding of her quandary. "I believe that the fact that your classmates were denied entry should make it apparent that simply having a strong quirk isn't enough to create a great or even good hero, at least by our standards. For your situation, I can see that you're experiencing a bit of an existential crisis."

"That's putting it mildly," she couldn't help but laugh.

"You're under no obligation to pursue heroics if that's not actually what you want to do, Ms. Togeike," Nezu continued. "Heroics is a very dangerous and deceptively thankless career, despite the glitz and glam that spurred a culture of pervasive hero worship. It's not a decision that can be made frivolously."

Upon Togeike's nod of understanding, Nezu continued with a smile. "However, if practice with your quirk is what you want, then I can certainly arrange something for you. Perhaps I can ask Aizawa if you could join in Shinso's training seeing as both of them could prevent your powers from falling out of your control if necessary. I can also set you up with sessions with Hound Dog. It's clear that you have a lot of things on your mind that even you may not have been totally cognizant of, and your newfound quirk status has finally shined a light on them."

Togeike smiled, and it was a genuine smile that didn't show itself incredibly often. "Thank you, Principal Nezu. I really appreciate this."

"Of course," Nezu chirped. "Even so, my door is always open if you need, as are the doors of every teacher and staff member at UA for you."

Her smile grew even wider, and her gaze fell back onto Eri who was smiling back at her. "What about you, squirt? Do you wanna be a hero?"

"Mhm!" she excitedly confirmed. "I wanna give villains baby hands!"

Togeike chuckled at that, then her smile slowly fell, and her brow furrowed as the deeply unsettling implications of that began to set in.

Kajiro Akamoto released a shaky breath as he meandered down an alley toward a nondescript door. His paranoia reaching an ugly head was nothing new, but that did nothing to assuage the sinking feeling he had about this meeting. Zoo Trigger was making him good money, so to be completely frozen out of it stung, but being told that it was because he was followed to the last meeting place stung even worse. Double, triple, and even quadruple checking his surroundings everywhere he went afterward was a pain in the ass, but it was necessary, especially for this meeting. He wasn't going to unwittingly bring any hangers-on to Weaver twice. Someone who could concoct a monstrosity like Zoo Trigger clearly wasn't too concerned with human lives, so why would she be concerned with his?

With that comforting thought in mind, he patted the revolver in his waistband and took another breath. It was go-time. Reaching out to the door, he knocked six times in the specific cadence that identified him to her, and within seconds, the door cracked open to reveal the icy set of four eyes that he was familiar with.

"Were you followed?" Weaver asked, her tone a touch more clipped than he was used to, which did nothing to ease his paranoia.

"No," he replied, attempting to match her shortness as best as he could, but he wasn't sure how well he accomplished that from the momentary silence that accompanied the piercing gaze she was leveling at him.

"You sure?" she pressed, narrowing her spider-like gaze at him dangerously.

"Yes," he answered, standing his ground.

Her four eyes momentarily darted in the direction that he had come from before she jerked her head back, beckoning him into the building. That was… odd. Never once had she told him to enter whatever building she would hand him the trigger from. Then again, they weren't specifically meeting to make a transaction; it was primarily to touch base again and exchange information, but why couldn't that be done from the doorway?

"I don't have all fucking day, Akamoto," Weaver growled.

"…I think I'm good out here," Akamoto finally spoke up. "What's this about-"

Before Akamoto even realized what was happening, the door had swung open, and Weaver had clamped his throat into her iron grip. Then, she yanked him inside and tossed him into the arms of a big, burly man with a wolf's head and talons for hands. Thinking quickly, he stomped on the man's foot to buy a precious second to retrieve his gun from his waistband, but as soon as it was out and in his hands, white, sticky webbing shot out of the ether and stole his gun from him. He watched in horror as that webbing retreated back into Weaver's mouth while his key to living to see the next day was now in her grasp and pointed at him.

"Sorry, but you were compromised last time," Weaver uttered in a tone devoid of any remorse to speak of.

Akamoto didn't have a second longer to process his shortening lifespan before a stiff kick to the back of his leg brought him to his knees, and the wolf-man's massive talons firmly wrapped around his head to slam it into the wall beside them, plunging Akamoto into a far-off galaxy given how many stars he was now seeing.

"Heroes are asking around about us, and the block is hot on the trigger trades as it is," she continued, though Akamoto probably missed a good bit of that in his daze. "You were followed last time, so we had to move shop and find other dealers. You're a loose end. You understand, right?"

As Akamoto was regaining his senses, her words were sinking in, and his already bleak outlook became so much more dire. "Wait, wait, y-you don't gotta do this! We had a great thing going!"

Ignoring his pleas, Weaver dispassionately kicked a cinderblock from behind the door, sliding it across the floor toward them. "Put his fucked up teeth on the block."

"You got it," the wolf-man clutching him gruffly replied before he ripped Akamoto's mask off, exposing his rows of razor-sharp teeth.

The man's talons roughly coiled around Akamoto's bottom jaw and yanked downward, meanwhile, two fingers hooked his nostrils and yanked upward, prying his mouth open without risking Akamoto chomping his fingers off. Then, the shrill sounds of teeth grinding against concrete wormed into their ears as he shoved Akamoto's head down and made him bite down on the cinderblock. Akamoto was so far beyond panicked that he barely felt the man's calloused hand press down on the back of his head to keep him in place, as instead, his attention was solely focused on every carefree step Weaver took toward him. If he could shake any harder at seeing his death literally stroll before his eyes, he'd be able to power Tokyo for generations.

"Wait, wait!" Akamoto desperately pleaded again, but it was clearly to no avail since Weaver did not stop. "Wait, wait, WAIT WAIT WAIT! I-Island!"

That finally got Weaver to pause, and Akamoto latched onto that burgeoning glimmer as hard as he could.

"What was that?" she asked, her four eyes narrowing at him once again.

"I-I can g-get you tech from I-Island!" he hastily stammered. It was a Hail Mary, but the alternative was a violent death, so he'd leverage literally anything he could at that moment.

"…That's the best you could come up with?" Weaver questioned with a quirked eyebrow. Akamoto's heart was nearly in his ass, but he'd bulldoze through her skepticism by any means.

"I'm serious!" he insisted. "T-There's a guy who's supplying me with support gear straight from I-Island! It boosts quirks, an-and they're trying to phase out trigger!"

Weaver silently stared at him, and if he could possibly be more unnerved than he currently was, the four eyes boring a hole through his soul were very much accomplishing that.

"…Let's say I did believe you," she finally spoke, tilting her head ever so slightly. "How far would you go to prove it?"

Akamoto didn't know whether or not the lifeline in front of him was simply bait, and he honestly didn't care. "I'll set up a meeting. I'll take you to him. I'll do whatever you need me to."

The silence that followed was deafening to Akamoto. He could only fearfully meet Weaver's blank stare until her gaze lifted to meet that of the wolf-man holding him down. He couldn't parse their silent conversation; all he could gather was that the other man shrugged at some point before Weaver spoke again.

"Alright," she finally said. "We'll hear you out."

Akamoto almost didn't believe his ears, but when the other guy's grip on him was released, it became real for him. "You're letting me go?"

"Hell no," she snorted, and Akamoto's heart sank once again. "We're going to see the boss. Chimera?"

"On it," was the last thing Akamoto heard before a burlap sack was draped over his head.

Placing his key into the lock of his front door, Yokumiru Mera was just glad to be home after another long day at the office. Those had been happening far more frequently these days, and Mera wasn't sure how to feel about it. On the one hand, he wasn't paid nearly enough for the hours he was forced to put in, and those were steadily increasing as Madame President grew more antsy by the day. On the other hand, he felt in the back of his mind that Madame President was going to push too far one day and end up getting herself killed and society flipped on its head, which simply meant an extended vacation in the near future… assuming he survived whatever shitstorm preceded it.

Until that day came, though, he'd have to endure the perpetual exhaustion he had grown so accustomed to. Unlocking his front door and stepping inside, he ordinarily could have at least taken solace in being in the comfort of his home until the morning came. The problem that presented itself, however, was the purple warp gate that was lying where his floor should have been, and he only realized it a step too late. Instead of his own home, he found himself falling onto a comfortable couch in an unfamiliar apartment. A quick look around revealed a red banner on the wall above the TV that read, "Lair of Anti-Villains." It also revealed the four men sitting in chairs around him, as well as a fifth man (the one responsible for his spontaneous entrance) standing in the kitchen behind them.

"You're Mera, right?" one Tomura Shigaraki asked from his seat, and all Mera could do was resignedly sigh his existence away. He really needed a vacation.

Inko was feeling good. Her son was making her proud every single day, and that only grew exponentially every time he inadvertently went viral for doing something adorable while on patrol with Mirko. This time, in conjunction with his close association with the Rabbit Hero, his rapid-fire inquiry of another hero's quirk after a bust made him a pseudo-champion for heteromorph equality overnight, something that only her son could possibly stumble into.

Alongside that, her daughter was positively thriving. Eri was learning everything under the sun from Nezu while smashing through her shell along the way, becoming a fixture among both the 1-A dorm and the teacher's lounge, as well as the pseudo-mascot for the first-year hero course. That was evidenced by her current position of riding shotgun in Nezu's egg-shaped hover pod (she refused to indulge him by asking when and why the hell he had that thing made) and assisting Yui Kodai with painting a Zero Pointer to resemble Voltron. That alone would have gotten a chuckle out of Inko, but behind it was another Zero Pointer resembling Tetsujin-28 and a third that was painted to look like Mazinkaiser. That girl really liked her mechs…

A groan from behind her captured her attention, and she turned a smile to the three beaten students strewn about the ground. She was over the moon when every student she made an offer to came to see her about it. Yaoyorozu had come first, and Inko quickly assuaged her worries about the potential forceful readjustment of her bones by informing her that she'd be more than willing to offer her training if she wanted, but she felt that Yaoyorozu could benefit a lot more from working alongside someone like Fat Gum. As such, she had already arranged for Amajiki to introduce her to him for a potential work-study. The beaming smile that Yaoyorozu unleashed at that proposal absolutely made her day.

Reiko Yanagi, Kinoko Komori, and Shihai Kuroiro, on the other hand, were not smiling, at least not on the outside. The three had taken her up on her offer, as well, each for different reasons. Yanagi was excited to learn from a competent telekinetic who could also overhaul her hand-to-hand combat, Kuroiro was interested in learning from an underground pro who had no reservations about leaning into the darkness, and Komori was immediately sold on the idea that she could asphyxiate someone and break their arms at the same time.

She should probably keep an eye on that one.

"Come on, you three, we haven't even started the really fun stuff yet!" Inko called to the writhing teenagers.

"I'm in way too much pain to make a mushroom pun," Komori lamented from her spot on the concrete.

"You hit really, really hard, Ms. Verdant," Yanagi groaned, slowly returning to her feet.

"And by the time we're done, so will you," Inko said with a smile that many would deem unsettling.

"Awesome," Yanagi replied with a smile of her own. She was not one of those people.

"I still can't believe you disarmed me with such ease," Kuroiro muttered, nursing his pained, well, everything.

"You talk too much," Inko informed in a chipper tone. "I know monologuing while your opponent is struggling to maintain consciousness is a great mind game to play, but it also leaves you potentially distracted, and any opening, no matter how brief, can be exploited by a competent fighter. Also, I've already seen you use that tactic, and I know how to break a rear naked choke."

With that, Inko clapped her hands to garner their undivided attention. "Now, back on your feet! It's time to teach you all how to dodge!"

"I'm glad that you and Explodey accepted the invite, Shoto," Burnin remarked as she made her way up the newly dubbed "Burnin Agency" tower with Shoto and Bakugo in tow.

"Thank you for sending the request to have us," Shoto replied. "It's important that we don't fall behind Midoriya."

"Yeah, whatever," Bakugo grumbled as only Bakugo could, not wanting to acknowledge the truth in his statement.

"Aww, is someone a bit tsundere?" Burnin prodded with a grin.

"Shut up!"

"Anyway," Burnin snickered, returning her attention to the break room they had just entered where four other sidekicks sat at a table playing cards. "Guys, I come bearing gifts: two potential recruits!"

"Oh, you're actually doing the work-study thing," one of them spoke up in surprise, and the man to the left of him grunted in agreement.

The first one was a stocky man with spiky, crimson hair that had three yellow streaks, making it appear as though his head was on fire. The man to his left was skinnier with long, spiky, black hair falling down into two bangs that framed his face, almost drawing attention away from the crimson irises and three black tomoe swirling around his small, black pupils. Across from them were a man covered from head to toe in white bandages and a man with slicked back, dull purple hair under a horned happuri that framed his face.

"Alright, you guys all know Shoto," Burnin spoke again, to which the four sent him friendly nods. "Bakugo, this is Hotstreak, Kagutsuchi, Kido, and Onima."

"We're the A-Team," Hotstreak declared with a cocky grin, and fire erupted from his palms, incinerating the cards in his hand and nearly singeing the rest of the table.

"Unofficially," Burnin deadpanned, causing Hotstreak's fire to peter out as he sulked back into his seat amidst the snickering of his three comrades. "You guys wanna help me beat up the newbies?"

Almost immediately, the four sidekicks were on their feet and ready for action. "Hell yeah!"

"So, you can produce both acidic and alkaline fluids?" an intrigued Wash asked Mina as he walked her and Tokage through his agency, of which the two students quickly noticed was rather heteromorph-heavy.

"Yep!" she cheerily confirmed. "I've only recently gone beyond just experimenting with bases, though, so my skin hasn't built up any real resistance yet."

Wash hummed, stroking the darkness of his hood where one could only assume his chin would be. "That's good to know either way. We can do some really cool stuff with the endothermic and exothermic reactions that your quirk could generate."

Mina blinked, absorbing the new information. "I… actually hadn't considered any of that."

"Not many know this, but I have a PhD in chemistry," Wash chuckled.

"Seriously?" Tokage asked.

Wash nodded. "Then again, I got it while in my home dimension, so I'm not entirely sure if a lot of those credits would carry over here. The building blocks of existence are mostly the same everywhere, though, so it shouldn't be a problem."

The two girls shared an amused look. The wild rumors surrounding Wash being an inter-dimensional entity beyond human comprehension were well known, and he clearly enjoyed playing into them from Tokage's perspective. Mina, on the other hand, was a touch less skeptical, but she wouldn't vocalize that.

When the group of three reached Wash's office, the two students' eyes immediately landed on what appeared to be a metallic T-Rex skull, but the faintly vibrating metal was unlike anything Tokage had ever encountered before. Then, a thought entered her mind, and she lit up like a Christmas tree.

"Hey, Wash," she spoke up, her brain already working at maximum overdrive. "Who do you think would win in a fight: All Might or Godzilla?"

The air in the room stilled, and the atmosphere immediately grew cold and tense. Wash turned to her with wide, unblinking eyes illuminating ominously from the void within the hunk of metal that was his costume.

"𐌃𐌏 𐌍𐌏Ƭ ƲƬƬ𐌄𐌓 Ƭᚺ𐌀Ƭ 𐌍𐌀𐌌𐌄 𐌀Ҁ𐌀𐌉𐌍."

To say that Mina and Tokage were taken aback would be the understatement of the century. Hell, to say they were horrifically unnerved would have been underselling it.

"Um, what?" Tokage eventually hazarded.

"𐌂𐌀𐌓𐌄𐌋𐌄𐌔𐌔 𐌉𐌍𐌖𐌏𐌂𐌀Ƭ𐌉𐌏𐌍𐌔 𐌏𐌅 ᚺ𐌉𐌔 𐌍𐌀𐌌𐌄𐌔𐌀𐌊𐌄 Ꮤ𐌉𐌋𐌋 𐌃𐌓𐌉𐌖𐌄 ᚺ𐌉𐌌 Ƭ𐌏 𐌀Ꮤ𐌀𐌊𐌄𐌍 𐌅𐌓𐌏𐌌 ᚺ𐌉𐌔 𐌔𐌋Ʋ𐌌𐌁𐌄𐌓, 𐌀𐌍𐌃 Ƭᚺ𐌉𐌔 Ꮤ𐌏𐌓𐌋𐌃 𐌉𐌔 𐌍𐌏Ƭ 𐌓𐌄𐌀𐌃𐌙 𐌅𐌏𐌓 ᚺ𐌉𐌔 𐌀𐌓𐌓𐌉𐌖𐌀𐌋."

"…I'm gonna put that down as a vote against All Might," Tokage muttered, sufficiently freaked out by the warning.

"Oh, totally. He doesn't stand a chance."

"We've got a fight between villain groups! Two with gigantification quirks are tearing up Espa Way, and one of them is hopped up on some new kind of trigger! We need heroes here, damnit!"

The way-out-of-his-depth cop calling for assistance on his radio didn't have to wait long for said assistance to arrive. As the shirtless titan and the rampaging fish-man continued to duke it out, two powerful waves of spiraling, yellow energy courtesy of Nejire Chan slammed into the brawling brutes, sending them crashing to the ground.

"Hey, now why are you two fighting?" she casually asked the downed giants from her position hovering above them. "Is it 'cause you have the same quirk? That's weird."

Then, she turned a bubbly smile to her two newest comrades. "You're up!"

Uravity and Froppy wasted no time at all putting the two villains away with their Meteor Fafrotskies combo move, showering them with an overkill quantity of rubble in the form of a high-speed meteor shower. Once they were back on the ground and the dueling desperados were dealt with and in police custody, Uravity and Froppy regrouped with Nejire Chan and Ryukyu.

"Wow, you two! Ohmygosh that was awesome, you didn't look nervous at all!"

"I'm just glad we pulled it off," Uravity sighed.

"Ribbit, I was calmer than I thought I'd be," Froppy agreed.

"Nejire would never have recommended you if you couldn't get the job done," Ryukyu spoke up to assuage their concerns. "She wasn't the only one that recommended you, after all."

Her soft smile grew into a teasing one. "Besides, it's not like you guys don't have practical experience already. Nobody has forgotten your vigilante expedition to rescue your classmate."

Uravity at least had the decency to pretend to sheepishly scratch her head at the reminder of their less-than-legal endeavor.

"Don't regret it, ribbit," Froppy replied, not even bothering with the charade.

Ryukyu chortled. "I didn't think so."

"What was that about the new kind of trigger that cop was talking about?" Uravity asked before adopting a thinking pose. "I remember Izuku mentioning running into something similar a little while ago."

Ryukyu's smile faded, and a concerned frown emerged in its place. "Mirko informed me about a spat of trigger use that's eerily reminiscent of the instant villains in Naruhata a few years back. What has her concerned are the users and what they all have in common: they're all heteromorphs."

"How significant is that?" Froppy questioned.

"I imagine you're not unaware of social tensions, Froppy," Ryukyu let a soft sigh slip, and upon Froppy's nod, she continued. "Mirko feels that it might not be a coincidence that all of them are heteromorphs. It could be a concerted effort, and someone is trying to capitalize on and weaponize the current situation."

"Woah…" Uravity murmured, and the sentiment was shared among Froppy and Nejire Chan.

"Unfortunately, it doesn't end there," Ryukyu sighed, this time audibly. "Apparently, whoever is producing and distributing the trigger is looking to go international. Word is that a villain group based in Busan has been inquiring about Japanese Zoo Trigger."

"Oh, oh, did you hear that from that guy you're seeing who works for the World Heroes Association?" Nejire Chan piped up.

"H-How the hell do you know about that?" Ryukyu demanded with a furious blush.

"You got wine drunk at your birthday party," Nejire answered with a smile, one that no one could accurately pinpoint if it was mischievous or genuine.

"We are not talking about this right now," Ryukyu insisted before speed-walking away from the scene. "Let's finish our patrol, you three!"

"And that makes dumbass number eight tonight," Mirko counted as Izuku dumped a tired and beaten criminal in front of a squad of police that were called to resolve a hostage situation.

"Is that a record?" Izuku asked his mentor as his violet tendrils dispersed, and the two continued their path down the sidewalk only absently acknowledging the cheering passersby.

"You fucking wish," Mirko snorted. "I've done triple that in only two hours before.

"Sober?"

"…Fair point," she conceded with a chuckle. "Alright, my max is fifteen in two hours when not on a snow day. It was all petty stuff, though. No exciting fights."

"Still more than most get in an entire day's patrol," Izuku replied. "I'm honestly surprised you're not at the top of the leaderboard for crimes resolved."

"Eh, I don't have the pure speed of Hawks or the unmatched efficiency of Endeavor," Mirko shrugged. "I'm more of the 'unstoppable badass' archetype. Y'know: arrive, wreck shit, leave. Veni, vidi, vici."

"That's…" Izuku began, but he was unable to contain his laughter. "That's not what that means, dude."

"It's basically what it means," Mirko replied with a smirk.

The merriment was suddenly halted when Izuku bumped into a man wearing a black hoodie. "Oh, I'm so sorry about that. I should've been paying more attention to where I was going."

"No worries, so should I," the man replied, and Izuku quickly set aside how the man seemed to inadvertently get the drop on both him and Mirko in favor of analyzing his appearance. He was a heteromorph with an apparent fox quirk, only his fur was a bright yellow to match the tufts of spiky, yellow hair that were peeking out from under his hood.

"Wait, you're Beacon, right?" the fox-man asked, to which Izuku nodded. "Oh man, you've been making a lot of noise in the media lately. Just the other day, you went viral fanboying over a mutation quirk."

"Wait, seriously?" Izuku asked before his mind flashed back to his interaction with Morph, and his expression grew deadpan. "Oh, yeah, of course that went viral."

"Don't sound so excited about it," the fox-man laughed. "It's not often that a non-mutant hero with as much clout as you actually treats one of the unsightly brands of mutations with an ounce of intrigue."

His cerulean eyes were… assessing, far more than any ordinary civilian would be. Izuku tried not to let any suspicion show in his gaze as he met the man's eyes and studied him intently. Something about him unsettled Izuku, but he wasn't entirely sure what it was just yet.

"…To say I have any notoriety of my own is probably an overstatement," Izuku eventually replied, passing off his caution as bashful hesitation with a scratch to the back of his head. "I'm just riding the coattails of the future Number One."

"Flattery will get you everywhere, but quit being modest," Mirko spoke up, ruffling Izuku's hair.

The fox-man chuckled. "Anyway, I won't hold you two up any longer. Can't have a mutant renaissance if the premier mutant hero isn't doing her job on my account."

That comment immediately yanked the hero duo's full attention toward him, but he was already walking away. Izuku stared at his retreating back with a calculating frown, and he could tell that Mirko was doing much the same, only her gaze was far more intense than his. Considering what they gathered from the trio at the yakiniku restaurant and his earlier conversation with Principal Nezu about Shishida, it was entirely possible that the man was being totally innocuous when saying that, and he didn't want to falsely accuse someone of hinting at criminality. Still, he couldn't help but get flashbacks of the redhead at the mall dropping hints about the Sludge Villain's demise.

"Should we…" Izuku quietly began with a glance toward Mirko in his periphery.

She didn't immediately respond, but her glare narrowed as the man disappeared into the crowd. "No. Could have just been parroting something he saw online, and if he is legit, then tipping him off that we're on to him so early on would be bad."

Izuku sighed, but he understood and begrudgingly agreed with the rationale. "I really hate the long game."

"You and me both," she muttered, but a small smirk broke through shortly thereafter. "Doesn't mean we can't tail him, though."

"You really have the subtlety necessary for that?" Izuku replied with a smirk of his own.

Mirko snorted. "Let's not forget that you didn't notice I was at UA with you until I was right beside you."

"Fair enough," Izuku chuckled. "Can we track him in this sea of people?"

Mirko nodded, and then she yanked Izuku by his scarf onto her in a piggyback carry. "Your puny human sense of smell won't be able to find him. Leave that to me."

As the duo leaped into the air and onto the roof of the nearest building, Kitsune was deep within the haystack of civilians. Still, he was able to sift through the idle chatter and pinpoint the conversation between Beacon and Mirko, even catching their ascent into the air to hunt him down.

'So, it's Mirko that's been poking around, and that means Beacon is, too. Just wonderful.'

He was decently confident in his ability to take either one of them down in an all-out fight if it came to that, but he wouldn't be able to take them both at once. Regardless, it wasn't time for that confrontation just yet, and he didn't need them figuring out where Fukkō's base of operations was. As such, a red, noxious miasma bubbled over him, forming a translucent coat over his body that had three fox tails waving behind him. Before anyone could accost him for public quirk use, he darted through the sea of people faster than any regular person could possibly perceive, practically vanishing from his initial position.

On and on he continued like that, zooming through the crowd and around civilians with practiced ease, then cutting through alleyways and onto different streets every so often to lose his pursuers. They were persistent, however, as every time Kitsune paused in an alley and turned back, he could faintly spot the Rabbit Hero bounding across the rooftops in his general direction.

"Give me a fucking break," Kitsune growled before taking off his hoodie and dumping it a nearby dumpster.

Sprinting down the alley, he was lucky enough to stumble on an older homeless man camping out near the other entrance. Thinking quickly, he appeared before the man in a flash, viciously snapped his neck, and robbed him of his shirt and coat. Once finished, he callously tossed the body further back down the alley before making haste onto the street and back into the haystack of civilians.

A few cautious glances back toward the rooftops told him that his momentary diversion was successful, as he saw Mirko and Beacon drop into the alley he had left his hoodie in. Moving forward, he quickly vacated the scene and vigilantly went on his way toward the nightclub they called headquarters. It didn't take very long for him to arrive, and after getting a nod from the sokaiya at the door, he milled his way through the patrons toward the basement.

Upon finally entering his group's sanctum and descending the stairs, he was immediately greeted by the sight of Komodo flying through the air and crashing into the wall like a Looney Tunes character amidst laughter from several others in the room. On the other side of the room stood a smirking Hellhound beside the reanimated corpse of Minori Gokiburi with her fist extended.

"…Do I even want to ask?" Kitsune hazarded against his better judgment.

"We're testing out Roach Girl's zombie strength," Titan answered after his gruff laughter subsided. "Hellhound found a good one."

"And Komodo 'volunteered' to be a test dummy," Chimera added with a chuckle.

"…Fair enough," Kitsune nodded before looking to Hellhound. "How does she hold up?"

"About as well as any other corpse I resurrect with my quirk," Hellhound shrugged. "She seems sturdier than the average one, though. Probably her insect constitution."

Kitsune nodded again and entered the room proper, getting a hug from his younger sister along the way. That hug ended as soon as it began once the odor of Kitsune's coat fully hit Mirage's nose.

"You smell like shit, big bro," she commented with a sour expression before inevitably noticing the difference in his attire. "That isn't your coat…"

"Had to pull a few evasive maneuvers on the way here," Kitsune shrugged before finally disposing of the stolen coat. "I see Gokiburi is functional. Any other updates?"

"PwrOfLuv got back to us with all of the unreleased info from the police department about Gokiburi's case," Mirage responded with a dark shudder. "I swear, that lady's a fucking wizard."

Then, her expression brightened, and she sent her brother a grin. "We also got confirmation from those guys in Korea. They're interested in buying."

Kitsune grinned in return. "Fantastic. Set up a meeting for next month."

Then, he turned to Weaver who was counting money out of a duffle bag in the corner. "That enough time to produce a big batch?"

"More than enough," she confirmed without looking up from what she was doing. "I can have a pretty big haul of high-quality stuff ready by then."

Then, Viper, Fukkō's resident snake-man, emerged from the entrance of the basement with a sandwich in a dog bowl. Viper saluted Kitsune when he reached the bottom of the stairs, and Kitsune watched curiously as he then walked toward a closet on the other side of the room. Opening the door, a panicked, bound, and bloody Kajiro Akamoto sitting in the darkness started shouting to anyone in earshot to let him go, but Viper simply dropped the bowl in front of him and shut the door. Then, he walked over to the couch and sat down, changing the channel on the TV before kicking his feet up as if absolutely nothing out of the ordinary was going on.

"…Um, Weaver?" Kitsune spoke up, turning back to his drug manufacturer.

"Yes?" she responded, still not looking up from counting money but also not hiding her amused smirk.

"Listen, I love you and all, you do wonderful work, and I don't ever wanna tell you how to do your job, but…" Kitsune trailed off, turning back to the closet door, "…are you planning on doing anything with Akamoto? It's been three days."

"And he's starting to smell," Viper added from his spot on the couch, continuing his channel surfing until stopping on a soap opera in which our dazzling protagonist was conferring with his large, red-haired, and inexplicably flaming financial advisor about whether he'd be able to afford his ski trip with his estranged daughter.

"Yeah, I just figured a little time in captivity should break him enough to tell us the whole truth," Weaver admitted with a chuckle. "He seemed way too eager to flip on whoever was providing him with support tech in exchange for staying alive. Had to be sure he wasn't gonna lie to us."

Kitsune quirked an eyebrow. "Had to be something pretty big for you to decide against killing him."

"I'll let him plead his case to you," Weaver said before standing up and walking to the closet to release her captive. When she opened the door, she grabbed him by the collar and dragged him out of the closet, knocking the half-eaten sandwich out of his mouth along the way.

"Vacation's over fuckhead," she spat, dumping him at Kitsune's feet. "Time to spill your guts or see them spilled."

"Pl-please," Akamoto frantically began. "Please let me go. I'll do anything; I-I'll suck your dick-"

A swift kick to Akamoto's face from Kitsune silenced his hysterical pleas and knocked him to the concrete floor in a heap.

"That's enough of that," Kitsune remarked before kneeling to Akamoto and snatching a hold of his shaggy, black hair, bringing the man's gaze to meet Kitsune's ice-cold cerulean. "Alright, tell me why you're still alive when I specifically asked for any loose ends to be dealt with."

"I can get you tech straight from I-Island!" Akamoto answered as if his life depended on it, because it very much did.

That took Kitsune aback, even causing his grip on Akamoto's hair to slacken enough for his head to nearly fall to the concrete. He wasn't alone, either, as everyone else in the room except for Weaver and Chimera were wide-eyed at the revelation. Mirage was especially caught off guard, and she was now staring down at Akamoto with 110% attention.

"…I-Island?" Kitsune skeptically questioned. "That's a stretch as far as pleas for your life go."

"I'm not joking," Akamoto insisted. "It's a helmet that boosts quirks a ridiculous amount. It's like trigger but so much stronger, it's not a temporary boost. I saw it with my own eyes. It turned some chick into a fucking monster that could probably go toe to toe with a Top Ten pro."

Now, Akamoto had Kitsune's full attention. However, before he could weigh in, his sister spoke up.

"Does this have anything to do with David Shield's arrest?" she asked Akamoto, and the rest of the room was just as interested.

"I have no idea who that is," Akamoto blankly answered.

"Of course, you don't," Mirage sighed while pinching the bridge of her nose. "David Shield was a premier quirk scientist and support technician on I-Island. I say 'was' because he apparently staged a coup at the I-Expo with some villains to steal some proprietary tech. The details on that are still a little murky, naturally."

"And that quirk booster is what Shield stole," Komodo surmised after peeling himself off of the wall.

"If what Akamoto's saying is true, it's a possibility," Mirage responded, then she turned to her brother. "We need to investigate this."

"Look, now you've got my tech nerd of a sister all riled up," Kitsune sighed at Akamoto before Mirage hit him on the arm.

"I'm serious!" she growled. "This could be really big trouble if it's legit! Either some doofus got their hands on I-Island tech and they're selling it on the fucking black market, or someone was able to reproduce I-Island tech and can make enough of it to afford to sell it on the black market at all."

"One of those is a lot more troubling than the other," Viper added with a frown. "A reckless dickhead that got lucky is one thing, but a competent force with that kind of tech could be really dangerous."

"That is, if we even believe him," Titan spoke up, motioning to a pale Akamoto.

"Better to look into it and find nothing than to ignore it and it actually be something," Chimera threw his two cents in. "Could pose a problem for our Zoo Trigger market in the future."

While they were weighing in on the situation, Kitsune's eyes were closed in thought as he silently considered every angle of the situation. Viper and Mirage were right that this could end up becoming a problem in the future, but Titan was also right that the possibility existed that Akamoto was just selling them a nice story to stay alive, and even if he wasn't, the guy with "I-Island tech" could just be some dork blowing smoke up his ass to make a buck off of a few suckers.

Then, after another long moment of the others deliberating, Kitsune finally spoke up. "Zoo Trigger makes us good money, but it's ultimately a means to an end. Some support gear that boosts quirks isn't gonna be competition for long enough to affect what we're doing."

Then, Kitsune opened his eyes and stared down at Akamoto. "With that said, that doesn't mean I'm not interested in all of the possibilities this presents.

Turning and walking toward the TV, he reached behind it and grabbed Akamoto's phone. "Congratulations, Akamoto, you've secured your life for a little while longer."

He tossed the man his phone and kneeled back down to his level, staring him directly in the eye as his pupils narrowed into threatening slits.

"Set up a meeting."