Just Deserts: Revised Edition (MHA, OC) - Chapter 11 - Part 1
Limousine, Musutafu.
The I-Island experience—as provided to those who had managed to pay the hefty price associated with the tickets—would take place over an entire week, and its main attraction was that it included early access to the I-Expo for twenty-four-hours before the rest of the world would be able to purchase their own entry and visit. The tickets included individual hotel rooms for every holder, as well as any guests that were brought along, and a pass that could be used to access any of the events, attractions and restaurants completely without charge for the duration of that week. The preview for the I-Expo would be taking place today, from nine in the morning until six in the evening, and then, in the aftermath, the reception dinner would take place. According to the newly updated itinerary on the I-Island website, Susumu Hoshi was scheduled to attend that reception dinner alongside a panel of premier scientists, and they would be discussing the most recent breakthroughs that had been cleared for public consumption—of note, here, was that All Might would also be present for the event, and would be giving his own speech.
Beyond that, Susumu would also be hosting a seminar in two days’ time in which she would be giving a two-hour long talk on her main area of focus—quirk byproducts—at eleven thirty in the morning. My original intention had been to use the reception dinner as a distraction to keep Hayami busy while I utilised that time to search the island for my target’s workplace or place of residence, but if she was going to make herself present so readily, then the least I could do was meet her halfway. There would be no better time to mark her with my quirk, and I could follow her once the reception dinner had concluded. I’d taken the time to research the laws, rules and guidelines of I-Island, and in doing so, I’d learned something very noteworthy—the use of quirks on I-Island was not anywhere near as heavily restricted as it was in Japan. You could get away with using your quirk in broad daylight, in public and with a crowd as an audience, so long as you didn’t break any of the cardinal rules. So if I avoided committing any visible or detectable crimes in public—
“Hisoka, I forgot to ask,” Hayami said as she rechecked her makeup in her pocket mirror for the third time. “But the suit I had them make for you arrived, didn’t it?”
“Yes, it arrived yesterday morning, and I made sure to pack it,” I said, eyes on the windshield, where the airport was growing larger ahead of us. “Thank you, it’s very nice.”
“You’re welcome—the measurements are two months old, though; I really should have taken you there in person,” Hayami said, concerned. “You did try it on, didn’t you?”
“I did,” I said, “It seemed to fit, though it felt a little bit tight around the shoulders.”
“You are still growing—I think you’ve become slightly taller as well,” Hayami said, glancing over for a moment. “We’ll go in to see them as soon as we come back to Musutafu.”
I’d wondered at that because, from the photographs I’d seen of my parents, I knew that they were both quite a bit taller than I was. Hayami and Sajin were also both approaching six feet in height, so it was clear that genetically, the Higawara family was relatively tall in general—yet I was only slightly taller than Fumikage, the shortest boy in our entire class. According to what I’d read, most boys reached their full height around the age of sixteen, which meant that I had, at most, eight months of growth left.
“Have I?” I wondered. “I don’t think I’ve grown much at all.”
“Both Sajin and your father were late bloomers,” Hayami said, flapping a hand in my direction. “Believe me, they were still getting taller well into their late teens.”
“Was that the same for you, as well, Aunt Hayami?” I asked.
“I was taller than both of them by fourteen, though that’s no longer the case now,” Hayami said, laughing out loud. “They absolutely hated it at the time, though, I can tell you that.”
I couldn’t imagine why something like that would have evoked such a strong negative emotion, but I would simply have to take her word for it. The airport was far busier than it had been the last time I’d been there, though given it was the start of summer break, I could only imagine that there were more people setting out on vacations or other travel plans at this time of year. Some fractional number of those present must have had I-Island as their destination as well. While the general public was barred from the I-Expo itself, travel was still permitted to all three of the city plates, though the immigration process was something far more complicated than purchasing a ticket.
I’d considered attempting that process in the month leading up to the opening of the I-Expo—in the moments when my patience came into conflict with my desire to take action towards my goal—but even securing temporary residence status in any of the three cities present on I-Island wasn’t something I could do without assistance. I’d have needed Hayami to sign off on it, which would mean providing some kind of sensible reasoning for why I suddenly wanted to up and move there—and that sensible reasoning was the main issue. I was enrolled in the most prestigious hero school in Japan, and ending my pursuit of becoming a hero to move to I-Island would have called into question my real motivation.
“Aunt Hayami,” I said, speaking up. “I just wanted to tell you that I really do appreciate you bringing me with you this time.”
“Oh, Hisoka,” Hayami said, sounding entirely flattered. “I’m just glad to see you so excited about something for once.”
#
Shizuoka Airport, Shizuoka.
The private jet was shaped exactly how I’d expected, though my sense of scale for how big such a thing seemed to have been off quite significantly—it was half the size of the passenger planes that were parked all across the area. Momo was standing by herself at the base of the set of mobile steps that led up to the entrance, fiddling with her phone and not quite facing us. We made it most of the way to her position before we crossed the threshold into her peripheral vision, and her eyes flickered up—she seemed to come alive, eyes brightening, and a smile washing up on her face. I felt a pang of something undefinable at the sight of the reaction and wondered exactly what it was that could have evoked it—even after all of the interactions we’d had up until this moment; it seemed so odd to have that much warmth and excitement being broadcast in my direction.
Almost the entirety of the last few months had been like that, though—not just from Momo either—and it stood in direct contrast to everything that had led up to my enrollment at U.A. High School. With a few very recent exceptions, I’d been just about invisible up until that moment, and my interactions with even my classmates prior had been nothing more than a shadow of what I’d since come to experience.
“I’m so glad you’re both here,” Momo said, bringing her hands together in front of her. “This is going to be so much fun.”
Hayami swept forward, leaving our luggage entirely in the hands of the man who’d escorted us here and moved to greet her properly. I caught a flicker of motion through one of the windows near the back of the jet, a small shift in the shadow that indicated that somebody had just been standing beside it before it was gone—her parents, most likely, or perhaps a member of the staff that worked aboard the jet.
“Little Momo, it’s always so lovely to see you,” Hayami said, one hand on her shoulder as she patted her on the cheek. “I swear you’re growing more beautiful every time I see you—isn’t that right, Hisoka?”
I wasn’t exactly sure how she expected me to answer a question like that when it required me to evaluate how Momo Yaoyorozu looked from her perspective—something I couldn’t possibly have had access to—but it was also clear that she was expecting an answer, so I took the safest route.
“Yes,” I said in general agreement. “I’ve noticed that as well.”
Momo seemed to flush a bit at the attention—or perhaps the proximity—but she didn’t seem at all uncomfortable with my Aunt fawning over her. I listened as they exchanged a series of information regarding both the jet, the flight, and the location of her parents before I found a moment to ask something I’d been wondering about.
“Are we the first ones to arrive?” I asked.
“Yes, actually; Tsuyu sent me a message saying she just arrived at the airport, but Eijiro and Mina are still a couple of minutes out,” Momo said, “I wanted to wait out here to greet everyone, but you’re both more than welcome to head inside at your leisure.”
“Oh that’s so sweet of you,” Hayami said, touching the girl on the shoulder a final time. “I hope you don’t mind if I go on ahead?”
“Not at all,” Momo said.
“Hisoka?” Hayami prompted.
“I would like to wait with Momo,” I said. “Please go ahead without me.”
Hayami laughed out loud at my answer—though I couldn’t determine exactly what she found funny about it—and then moved to ascend the stairs without another word. I watched her vanish into the plane; then, once she was entirely out of view, I turned my attention back to Momo.
“I wonder how long it’s going to take before Mina starts calling me Little Momo,” Momo managed. “I’ll just have to hope that she doesn’t hear her say it.”
“Does it bother you?” I wondered.
“It’s only a little embarrassing,” Momo said, scratching at her cheek for a moment. “Your aunt is actually really nice, though, so it’s not like I mind when she calls me that.”
I nodded at the reasoning, accepting it at face value, and then wondered at how she seemed suddenly incapable of meeting my gaze. The shadow of a passenger plane passed over us as it continued its slow crawl along the road towards the main runway. From a point of perspective emerging from the back of my neck, I witnessed the moment that the same pair of distant doors Hayami and I had come from opened up once again. I made an effort to turn enough in that direction that Momo’s attention was drawn towards that area as Tsuyu emerged alongside her own escort.
“Oh, look—” Momo said, sounding oddly relieved. “Tsuyu’s here.”
“It seems so,” I agreed, “Momo, have you obtained permission to attend the training camp?”
“I actually asked them about it last night,” Momo said, “They were a little bit concerned about the location being kept hidden, but they still signed it.”
“Hayami was worried about that as well,” I said, “With what happened the last time we had a set public schedule, the obfuscation has become a necessary security measure.”
“Yes, my father said much the same thing,” Momo said, “Still, it would be nice if we knew where it was at least.”
I nodded in agreement and then turned with her as she shifted to face the newly arrived member of our party—Tsuyu picked her way forward beside the luggage trolley, hands dangling in front of her as she went. There was a distinctly familiar nervousness around her. It was something I’d seen several times before, the most memorable being the day we’d all set out for Tokyo together on the train—it was curious just how calm she seemed to be while in danger or under significant pressure contrasted against the visible social unease that took her while outside of it. I’d had enough exposure to her recently that it had become a simple task to recognise. Invariably, Tsuyu had arrived at each of our practice sessions with that same anxiety shrouding her posture, and inexorably, it would vanish almost as soon as the combat began.
“Hello—” Tsuyu managed, with an untameable croak distorting the tail-end of the word. “I hope I’m not late.”
“You actually came at the perfect time,” Momo said, with an odd relief. “I’m so happy you ended up being able to come—”
#
Private Jet, In Transit.
“I’ve been looking at all the events that are set up for the preview—” Eijiro said, angling his phone so that I could see the screen. “Check this one out; it’s the Villain Attack Course.”
I leant forward enough that I could actually see the picture and then scanned the headline directly beneath it—it was a time trial combat course that required the use of a quirk to finish. The enemies were robots, though they were entirely dissimilar to the ones we’d been set against at U.A. High School. It was available to anyone over the age of thirteen, though there was a warning note that quirk compatibility would be checked prior to participation, and those with dangerous or unsuited quirks would be denied access. There was something to be said about a society in which a source of entertainment could so easily encourage simulated violence against a small—but very real and often disenfranchised—subset of the population, and I wondered how that same subset viewed the mundanity of being used as target practice for children, teenagers and aspiring heroes alike.
“There’s a leaderboard that’s posted for everyone to see, so if you set a high score, your name will be up there when it actually opens to the public,” Eijiro said, grinning. “Imagine it opens up the next day, and the entire scoreboard is just names from U.A. High School.”
“That seems a little unfair for those without access to the same training,” I wondered. “Though there doesn’t seem to be anything that’s stopping pro heroes from competing either.”
“All Might is supposed to be here somewhere,” Eijiro said with some interest. “We should hunt him down and see if we can convince him to take the top score.”
“That sounds like it would translate to a significant amount of free marketing,” I said, “I imagine he’d need to speak to his manager before actually doing it.”
“Come and challenge All Might’s high score—yeah,” Eijiro said, thinking about it. “You know, we’re not actually heroes yet, but Midnight would probably tell us to try and get paid for it.”
“I suppose it’s worth asking,” I said.
Eijiro took his time scrolling through the other events on the page and called several of the more interesting ones out. There was an exhibit on strange and unusual quirks throughout history that actually managed to pique my interest enough to consider it. I made sure to encourage interest in several of the ones that looked like they would take up a significant chunk of time—if I happened upon Susumu Hoshi prior to the dinner event, then it would be more effective if the group was locked into something that would take several hours to complete. I’d be able to feign sudden illness and then excuse myself, though I imagined I’d have to do some amount of convincing to get them to continue without me. They were universally empathic enough that they might try to delay seeing things without me, and if they attempted to check in on me, it would be unfortunate to be found missing so quickly. I had enough sand threaded throughout the interior of the plane to notice the moment Minato detached himself from the group of women and started in our direction.
“Things were getting a bit hairy over there, so I thought I’d come to seek safer ground with you boys,” Minato said as he dropped into the seat across the aisle from us. “Eijiro—excited for the trip?”
Oddly enough, Eijiro seemed a bit taken with the man, and the few brief interactions I’d witnessed so far had seen him acting far more bashful than I’d come to expect. I wasn’t sure why that was, but there was also a significant shift in how he spoke around the man—more polite, less carefree, and with the kind of respect I’d only seen him use with our instructors at U.A. High School. Mina seemed to have noticed it as well because she’d given the other boy a few odd looks.
“Yes sir, we’re just talking about what exhibits we wanted to see,” Eijiro said, ruffling the back of his hair. “Was there something you were interested in seeing?”
“A lot of them seem quite interesting to me, but I’m afraid my time is a little harder to manage than I’d like,” Minato admitted, “Most of the first day here is going to be taken up by meetings, but tomorrow I’d like to take a tour of the David Shields technology exhibit.”
“I think I saw the advertisement for that,” Eijiro said, glancing down at his phone for a moment. “What was that guy about?”
“David Shields is an American scientist who worked as a costume designer and then a sidekick for All Might during the earlier stages of his career,” I said, “He retired from heroics around the same time that he married and had a child—now he works full-time as a scientist and is responsible for a great deal of the technological patents that make it off I-Island into the public space.”
“So he’s some super famous guy,” Eijiro said, impressed. “Hisoka—how did you know all that?”
“I had a friend in middle school who was very interested in All Might, and since it made her happy to talk about him, I made an effort to learn as much as I could,” I said, “I discovered his name around that time.”
I spent a moment wondering exactly why I’d allowed the conversation to approach such a dangerous topic and why, after that, I hadn’t moved to lie or misdirect him from the truth—I’d experienced this same phenomenon before, hadn’t I? Back when I’d intended to speak with Toru Hagakure, and then, when Eijiro had asked me, I had outright told him my intentions.
“Man, it would have been cool if we’d gone to the same middle school,” Eijiro said, “What was your friend’s name?”
“Nanami Kureta,” I said after a long moment. “That was her name.”
Minato sat back in his chair, moving from a comfortable lean to almost entirely straight-backed. I’d known that he would recognise the name given his involvement in the investigation back then, as well as our more recent discussion involving Kaito Habiki. He might have suspected that, given my interest in the topic, but hearing her name still seemed to have taken him entirely off guard—Mina’s muffled laughter crept up the aisle to where we were seated, and Eijiro leaned out enough to check what they were actually doing.
“Uh oh,” Eijiro said. “Why are they all looking at us?”
“It’s probably best not to wonder too hard about it,” Minato said, reaching for levity. “We’ve got about half an hour left until we reach the Island—tell me, do either of you two know how to play poker?”
#
I-Airport, I-Island.
The PA system engaged, and a smooth female voice spoke up, announcing the beginning of the immigration process. Our luggage had already been taken upon landing and whisked away to be scanned, then transported up to our assigned hotel rooms—the grains of sand I’d left inside of my suitcase were currently located about two hundred meters to the north-east, buried somewhere deep amongst the mass of metal hallways and rooms. The eight of us had naturally split across generational lines, with the three adults spearheading our journey into the security airlock—Minato glanced back for only a moment before the doors shut between us, and then we were completely unsupervised for the first time since arrival. I was certain that it was only the lack of privacy that had prevented the man from attempting to speak with me on the plane—something I appreciated, considering Hayami had been there at the time—but that probably wouldn’t hold up once we were inside the island.
“Three at a time, please,” The attendant said.
Eijiro, Momo, and Tsuyu were the first three in line, so the group was split right there, leaving Mina and me waiting on the other side of the doors—I stumbled one step to the side as Mina reached out and pressed one hand flat against my shoulder.
“All this time, I’ve been teasing Momo about being a rich girl, and you never said a thing—” Mina said, entirely unimpressed. “When are we going to get an invitation to your manor, huh?”
“The Higawara manor doesn’t belong to me; it belongs to my aunt and uncle,” I said before pausing. “I’m also not currently living there.”
“That’s beside the point,” Mina insisted.
“I see,” I said, considering it. “I didn’t realise you had any interest in visiting me at my home, but if you would like to visit, we can decide on a day—”
“Hold on, you’re making it sound weird,” Mina hedged, “You should invite us all over—as a group—not just me.”
I wasn’t sure any of them would have any interest in visiting, but then again, I hadn’t accounted for Mina wanting to either, so perhaps I would need to make an effort to actually ask.
“I will invite everyone,” I agreed.
“Make sure your Aunt is home too—she’s a riot,” Mina said before snapping her fingers together. “Guess what she told us about earlier?”
“I wasn’t present,” I reminded, “So I lack the context to make an accurate guess about the topic of conversation.”
“Well, the context is that it was super embarrassing,” Mina said, “Momo said I couldn’t tease you about it—but I just wanted you to know that I know.”
Mina was being far to vague for me to identify exactly what information had been shared, and I couldn’t recall anything in my past that approached the level of ‘super embarrassing,’ nor anything that directly involved Momo—it was possible that I’d made some kind of social misstep the night she had invited us to have dinner at her home, but whatever it was escaped me.
“I’m afraid I’m not sure what you’re referring to,” I said, “If you’d like, I can make an effort to ask her once we return to the group.”
“Don’t do that—you’ll get me in trouble,” Mina accused. “Just be embarrassed, damn it.”
“I’m not sure that is something I have control over,” I said in consideration. “But I’ll do my best.”
Mina blew a sharp breath out of her nose at the words, then pushed me forward into the scanning room, but this time, I was far more prepared for it. The doors sealed themselves shut behind us, and the floor began to shift forward like a conveyor belt—blue light flickered across the interior of the room, passing over us both in a line.
“This place is crazy,” Mina said.
A floating panel of holographic light appeared in the air beside each of us, and I watched as all of the title cards were filled out with information—name, age, birthday, address, occupation, height, weight, hair colour, eye colour along with a series of biometric readings that included body temperature, heartbeat and many more. It was so in-depth that I couldn’t imagine Nanami passing through all of these security checks and not being flagged as a suspicious individual—Susumu Hoshi might have been able to deal with the scanner itself, but there had been two dozen actual members of staff involved in the sign in process, and unless she had subverted each and every one of them then it seemed very unlikely that they’d come in through what was essentially the front door. It was evidence towards eliminating the passenger ship as the method of entry entirely, and I was more certain than ever that they’d brought her into the island aboard the cargo vessel—
“These things know everything—holy crap,” Mina managed, sticking both of her arms up in front of her information. “If you even think about looking at my panel, we’re going to throw down right here in the airlock, Sandboy.”
I’d been watching her from the point of perspective in the centre of my cheek—in case she made any further attempt to shove me—so I had already seen the vast majority of it the moment it had appeared.
“Very well,” I said.
I scanned through my own panel a final time, curious as to what exactly she had been attempting to hide, before returning my gaze to the doors ahead of us. By the time the conveyor floor had shifted up to the other side, the door had risen up to unblock our path. On the other side stood Momo, Tsuyu and Eijiro, waiting for us with smiles on their faces. Behind them lay the entrance to the I-Expo, a sprawling mass of brightly painted exhibits and towering buildings—somewhere on this island was the answer to a question that had plagued me since childhood, and now I was going to find it.
#
I-Airport, I-Island.
Everywhere I looked, there were people, heroes and unusual quirks—I couldn’t remember seeing this many people playing with their quirks in public at one time, with the exception of the first round of the U.A. Sports Festival. If someone had described a society in which all quirks could be used freely, the imagery it would have created in my mind would have held a great deal of chaos, and yet, despite that, there was absolutely nothing of the sort present. It made me wonder if Japan could ever reach this kind of environment without the transition also being attached to a staggering rise in crime.
There were social elements present that didn’t exist in a standard city that were contributing to the maintenance of peace and order, I knew—the most obvious of which was that every single person who was present within the I-Expo had either paid a very large amount of money to purchase their tickets, or they’d been gifted them for a contribution or as a reward—and so there was a silent incentive to avoid causing trouble, and, in turn, wasting the value of those tickets. The second was the sheer density of so many famous heroes and the knowledge that should someone step too far out of line, there were people present on almost every corner who were authorised to act against them. The third was probably due to the extremely thorough briefing that had occurred during the first security check regarding how the security system would take action instantly to any breach of orderly conduct.
“—have until four in the afternoon,” Ume said, “We’ll need at least two hours to return to the hotel and then get ready for the reception dinner—does everyone have appropriate clothing?”
There was a round of responses from the younger split of the group, and the woman smiled.
“Perfect, then I think that’s everything—Momo, if anything happens, make sure you send me a message,” Ume said, “Your father is going to be busy, but Hayami and I will be more than able to handle anything that comes up.”
“On that note, it’s just about time I made my dashing escape,” Minato said, checking his watch. “I would like to get to know you all a little bit better, so I hope you don’t mind if I schedule some time with each of you over the week.”
“Dad,” Momo managed.
“Don’t worry, it’ll be painless,” Minato said, smiling. “Eijiro, how does tomorrow sound, say one hour—we can have lunch.”
“That sounds fine, sir,” Eijiro said, a bit sheepish. “I’m not in trouble, though, right?”
Minato laughed out loud at the words.
“Not at all, it’s just lunch, really,” Minato said, smiling. “I’ll have Momo pass along the dates and times for the rest of you—any objections?”
There weren’t any, and the man soon made his farewells to both Hayami and his wife before departing entirely—I was certain enough about the kinds of questions he would have for me when it came down to it.
“Now then, it’s about time we found something fun for ourselves to do,” Ume said, “Hisoka, Eijiro—take care of them for us, will you?”
“You can count on us,” Eijiro said, firing off a salute. “We’ll make sure nothing happens.”
Ume gave the boy a lingering pat on the cheek, catching the boy entirely off guard and then directed Hayami off in vaguely the same direction that Minato had gone. Eijiro seemed visibly embarrassed by the affection, and it quickly turned to defensiveness as Mina planted her hands at her hips.
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“You can count on us,” Mina accused. “That’s a married woman, you know—keep your paws to yourself.”
“Hold on—” Eijiro managed. “I didn’t even do anything.”
“Momo, your dad wants to speak with us in private,” Tsuyu said, eyes locked on the man’s distant back. “Should I be worried?”
“He does that to everyone, but you don’t need to be nervous, really,” Momo said in an attempt at reassurance. “It’s just that I talk about all of you so much when I’m at home—I suppose he just wants a chance to meet you himself.”
“You talk about us with your parents?” Tsuyu asked.
“Just the things we get up to at school, mostly, but last night, I was telling him more about everyone’s internships,” Momo said, smiling. “This place seems even larger in person, doesn’t it? I almost don’t know where we could even begin.”
“Eijiro has compiled a list of interesting exhibits,” I said, speaking up. “It might be best if everyone takes a look at it before we go.”
“Oh look, a safer topic—let’s talk about that,” Eijiro said, still watching Mina from the corner of his eye. “I tried to order the ones where we need to use our quirks for the afternoon, so we only have to change into our costumes once.”
As they spoke, I began sending my sand outwards across the area in an effort to begin building up a network. While it was unlikely that Susumu Hoshi would be walking around the I-Expo, there was a chance that I might locate her, so I wanted to make sure I was prepared. My awareness expanded as the network did, and I found myself studying the thousands of people moving around, in groups and some by themselves. There were also short, stocky robots gliding across the pathways on a trio of three-wheeled legs, their exterior panelling a smooth white metal.
Some kind of sensor array clearly guided their movements because they swerved around any obstructions with a buffer of at least one meter, and when that wasn’t possible, they came to a complete stop until space had returned. The highly visible nature of their existence was just another method of reinforcing the presence of the security system, and I took the time to study them in detail—the more I knew about their function now, the more successful I would be in combating them in the event that they were sent after me in the near future.
#
City A, I-Island.
“This is the one I was waiting for,” Eijiro said, clearly pumped up. “Who’s coming with me?”
“I’m in costume, aren’t I?” Mina said, squinting at the mountain. “I better not have to climb—never mind, I can see the pathway.”
“I think I’ll give it a try as well,” Tsuyu said.
“I used my quirk quite a bit for that escape room,” Momo hedged, “It would probably be best if I ate something before I used it any more—I think I’ll sit this one out.”
The Villain Attack Course loomed ahead of us, the false island mountain range sitting high atop the lake it was floating in the middle of, and even with the distance, I could see the reflective metal panels that made up the robots dotting its rugged pathways. The dock that led to the island itself was preceded by a large set of stands for both spectators and waiting participants alike, and above it sat a large twenty-list-long set of leaderboards—the most interesting thing present was the mass of U.A. High School students that were dominating the front row of benches.
“It would appear that we’re not the only ones here from U.A. High School,” I said, speaking up. “There are several familiar names already on the leaderboards.”
“Wait, really?” Mina said.
“Mirio Togata, Tamaki Amajiki and Nejire Hado,” Tsuyu said, reading the top three listings out loud. “Those were the top three placements in the third-year sports festival bracket.”
“Mawata Fuwa was the winner of the second-year level as well,” Momo said with interest. “Look in the stands—isn’t that Ida?”
“Midoriya and Todoroki, too,” Eijiro said, grinning. “This is great.”
“Look at the blonde girl that’s with Midoriya,” Mina wondered. “They’re standing awfully close—you think it’s his girlfriend?”
I’d been present when the first-place winner of each year had been gifted their individual tickets—I had been the winner of my own bracket, after all—so I’d been aware that both Mirio Togata and Mawata Fuwa would most likely be present here. Process of elimination indicated that Mirio had used his plus-two invitations to bring Tamaki and Nejire along—though that was as far as it got me. I knew next to nothing about Mawata, but it seemed unlikely that she was heavily involved with Izuku, Tenya or Shoto. We reached the entrance to the stands, and Mina made a show of cupping her hands around her mouth—
“Midoriya,” Mina called.
Izuku went visibly alert at the sound of his name, and then he turned his head up towards where the noise was coming from—a series of interesting expressions flittered across his face as he caught sight of our small contingent, including what was most certainly some form of panic. The call also had the effect of alerting the rest of the group to our presence, and Tenya sprung up to his feet in complete surprise.
“You guys are here too?” Eijiro said as we reached the group. “Looking good, Class Pres—your armour is practically sparkling.”
“I cleaned it this morning,” Tenya beamed, adjusting his glasses to catch the light. “To think so many of U.A. High School’s students would be here—this is a fantastic opportunity.”
“You bet it is,” Eijiro said, “By the time we’re done with it, these leaderboards are going to have so many U.A. names on it that it’s going to be considered school property.”
The two boys united in their scholastic-driven purpose, swung their hands forward in a warrior’s handshake that had Mina rolling her eyes. Nejire was slowly edging her way forward to investigate us in what I could only imagine would be an unending series of questions, but Mawata seemed to have one arm hooked around the girl’s waist to prevent her from making any real progress. Tamaki had turned in his seat until he was the only person facing the opposite direction, apparently unwilling to make eye contact with anyone present. Mirio, in a display of odd comradery, had swiftly moved to insert himself into the handshake, turning it into a tangle of limbs as he beamed around at everyone present.
“I expected Ida to be here because of his family,” Shoto said. “Yaoyorozu—was that the same for you?”
Though his words were soft-spoken, they caught the attention of everyone present.
“You are correct; my parents did receive tickets,” Momo said, smiling at the question. “I imagine you have a similar story?”
“I’m here representing my father,” Shoto admitted, glancing away for a moment. “He was too busy working to come.”
“Hisoka gave his spare ticket to the three of us,” Eijiro said, indicating both Tsuyu and Mina. “Good to see you, man—you haven’t taken a shot at this thing yet?”
“I was just about to go down and sign up,” Shoto admitted.
“Then we’re coming with,” Eijiro said. “Right, guys?”
“Yes,” Tsuyu croaked.
“I’m coming for those top scores, third years,” Mina declared, “You better watch out.”
The group of four slipped down the stairs to the sign-up desk below, and I caught Nejire’s disappointment as half of the group left before she had a chance to interrogate them.
“Izuku,” I said in greeting. “It’s nice to see you.”
“Thanks—I mean, you too,” Izuku said.
“Midoriya,” Momo said, leaning forward a bit. “Are you going to introduce us to your friend?”
“Oh—” Izuku said, straightening up. “Everyone, this is Melissa Shields.”
Melissa Shields—I wasn’t so familiar with last names from other countries to establish whether or not it was a particularly common one, but given Izuku Midoriya’s close connection with All Might and his presence on this island, it seemed like a safe bet to assume that this girl was the daughter of David Shields.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Melissa,” Momo said, “I’m Momo Yaoyorozu, and this is Hisoka Higawara—the three that just left were Eijiro Kirishima, Tsuyu Asui and Mina Ashido, but I’ll make sure to introduce you to them properly when they get back.”
Melissa’s eyes seemed to light up at the kind greeting, enough so that even Midoriya started smiling at the reaction—which was about the time that Mawata decided she’d done enough to restrain Nejire.
“You fought that Glasses-Knight at the sports festival—does your quirk give you the power to deploy metal ball bearings, or were you just carrying a lot of them in your pockets? No, wait, you were pulling nets out of thin air as well, so maybe they weren’t in your pockets,” Nejire said, leaning all the way in. “You’re like Yoarashi, aren’t you? Exactly how many items can you hold in your inventory—no, tell me what level you are?”
Momo grew flustered under the series of rapid-fire questions but gave it her best effort to clear up the misunderstanding. I couldn’t help but notice that Izuku seemed to have checked out of the explanation entirely, and I wondered if he hadn’t been the focus of his own deluge of questions.
“—and so I’m not really a video game character at all,” Momo finished, “I hope that made sense.”
“A high-level explanation,” Nejire said with clear interest. “You must have farmed a lot of EXP.”
“But—” Momo tried.
I’d witnessed it enough times at this point to realise that Nejire Hado’s questions were hardly as genuine as they first seemed. The primary motivation was most likely to deliberately fluster the other person, though its rate of success seemed to be quite unpredictable.
“Why are you all the way over here by yourself, Tamaki?” Mawata said, reaching down to touch the boy’s shoulder. “You’re not feeling sick again, are you—here, let me feel your face.”
“Oh no.” Tamaki managed. “It’s happening again.”
“Fight on, Tamaki,” Mirio said, flashing him an encouraging smile. “I know you can do it.”
“The green-haired girl left already, but you’re still here—I’ve been dying to find out what happened in season three,” Nejire said, turning her attention to me. “Are the two of you still friends? What did she say when the intelligent, beautiful and funny third-year rival entered the scene? Have the two of you even exchanged emails yet? Tell me about the developments.”
“That one in the middle was way too specific,” Mirio cheered.
“I’m not sure she is aware a rival even exists, but we are still friends, and we exchanged contact information a long time ago,” I said, “As for developments, we have recently begun engaging in sparring sessions after classes have ended.”
“It’s gone that far?” Nejire said, sucking in a breath. “I’ve missed so much.”
#
I-Expo, I-Island.
My network now stretched across almost a third of I-Expo—a distance that was significantly larger than anything I had maintained before—but though I’d seen seven shades of pink hair, not one of them had belonged to Susumu Hoshi. The number of U.A. High School students on the leaderboards for the Villain Attack Course continued to grow with every run, and the constantly shifting rankings had led to quite a bit of friendly jeering—Shoto Todoroki was currently topping the rankings with a score of fourteen seconds. Izuku Midoriya had managed to get the closest to usurping him after he’d managed a second-place finish of sixteen seconds.
All three of the third year’s original rankings had been shuffled down with each new attempt, though they took it good-naturedly—Nejire had been the only one to take a second run at the course and in doing so, had managed to resecure her third-place finish. Tenya Ida had taken fourth place, but it was clear that he’d been struggling to reach his top speed while dealing with the sheer angle of the pathway and the uneven terrain. Tamaki Amajiki was still holding onto fifth place, though Eijiro Kirishima was getting closer to taking his spot with every new attempt—he’d unashamedly tried a total of four times so far and didn’t seem anywhere near quitting yet. Tsuyu was currently lining up for her very first run of the course, having been patiently waiting for Eijiro to finish throwing himself at the course in quick succession.
“We’ve got another new challenger coming in to take a shot at the rankings,” The attendant said on Tsuyu’s approach. “We’ve seen some crazy scores already—how well will she stack up against the others?”
If Tsuyu had something to say in response to the words, I was too far away to actually hear it, but she had already settled into a crouching start.
“The Villain Attack Course is all set.” The attendant started, “Ready, set—go.”
Tsuyu dashed forward at what I recognised as something that was approaching her top speed, then leapt skyward, clearing a dozen of the twisting pathways that led to the first of the robots in a single movement. The robot was slow to respond to her sudden appearance directly above it, and by the time its sensor had actually managed to find her, Tsuyu’s heel came down on its head hard enough to shear all of the way through the thing’s body.
“Whoa—” Mina said, startled. “Could she always jump that high?”
“That’s certainly a far greater distance than what she was able to cover in Aizawa’s quirk test,” Tenya said, impressed. “Between that and being able to stick to surfaces, she doesn’t have to use the paths at all.”
It was clear that she hadn’t wasted all of the time she’d spent watching the others clear the course because there was no hesitation on her chosen route, and the robots were destroyed in a rapid staccato of shattering metal.
“—another monster steals a spot on the leaderboards,” The attendant cheered, “Tsuyu Asui clears the Villain Attack Course with a score of seventeen seconds.”
The entire rankings were shuffled down again as she took third place, and Tsuyu seemed pleased at the cheers erupting from the stands. Eijiro was already setting up to take a fifth run at the course, and I could see that Tenya was considering it—three more people stepped on the top of the grains of sand I’d left scattered across the threshold of the entrance to I-Expo, but when I did what had become, at this point, a routine spot check of those in question, I only found two people. I shifted my focus to a node that had a better angle, then studied the pair as they descended the stairs. The first was a suited man in his thirties with beige hair and a posture that looked as if the man was struggling to remain upright, while the second was a sharply dressed woman with ash blonde who might have been approaching fifty years old.
I recognised the woman on sight alone because I’d seen her face on the news, being interviewed on talk shows, and depicted in articles on dozens of occasions. I’d even seen her face in our textbooks at U.A. High School—this woman was the president of the Hero Public Safety Commission and, in turn, the top-ranking official that was in charge of the Hero Association of Japan. The identity of the man beside her was far more vague, but I was certain that I’d seen him accompanying her in the background of those interviews. The third person—and now that they’d just passed over my second line of sand, I could confirm that there was one—was entirely invisible and, if my guess was correct, barefooted. I tracked the three of them as they took their time moving into the botanical gardens, and once I’d established their general direction, I increased the density of nodes in that area until—
“—say that All Might is already here and that he arrived in the company of a student of U.A. High School, as well as Melissa Shields.” Madam President said, studying the array of white roses. “That was several hours ago, so at this point, I expect that he’s already made contact with David Shields.”
If she was speaking with the man in the suit, he made no attempt to actually respond to her in any way, and as I shifted my primary perspective to within the bed of roses, I could see that the man looked about as sleep-deprived as I’d come to expect from Shoto Aizawa.
“There have also been no further reports of All Might being seen around the island, so it’s highly likely that he is still in contact with the man as we speak,” Madam President said, “Which means the best time to take action will present itself very soon—did you familiarise yourself with each of the locations inside of the mission briefing?”
The invisible person spoke up in confirmation, and though I’d already considered the possibility several times, actually hearing Toru Hagakure’s voice under these circumstances was entirely unusual. It did, however, put into perspective several other strange behaviours I’d noticed in the past, as well as recontextualising one conversation, we’d had in particular—back when I’d spoken to her on the school rooftop and I’d enquired about her dietary requirements. She had made mention that she was working under a strict set of guidelines, but when I’d pressed her on it, she had suddenly withdrawn from the conversation entirely, and the reason for that was now clear to me—I’d stumbled upon what looked like a clandestine work-relationship with the head of a governmental body.
“The drive is waiting for collection, and the drop-off point has already been secured,” Madam President said, “Hagakure, make certain you do not act if All Might is still inside the premises—invisible or not, you won’t escape his notice.”
“I won’t,” Toru said.
“I’m restricting the mission duration to the next twelve hours,” Madam President said, “Finish it quickly, and then you’ll be free to spend the rest of the week however you like—perhaps you can even find some of your classmates.”
Toru seemed to take a few long moments to actually consider the comment, and when she spoke up, there was something in her voice that I couldn’t quite identify.
“They’ll want to know how I got a ticket,” Toru said.
“Tell them your parents were invited for a work function,” Madam President said, “If they inquire further, tell them you simply don’t know the details.”
“Fine,” Toru said.
“Consider the both of us to be no-contact for the next twelve hours, and if you get caught, I expect you to follow the cover story exactly,” Madam President said, “You may go.”
I watched the grass depress beneath her feet as she left without another word and then considered the two who remained in the clearing—what exactly were they trying to accomplish here? It hadn’t been explicitly stated, but it seemed clear enough to me that whatever it was they were looking for involved both All Might and David Shields. The existence of a drive as a tool—a hard drive, most likely—and a drop-off point suggested that there was some kind of corporate espionage at work here.
Toru’s goal was ostensibly to take the drive, obtain the data, and then move it to the drop-off location without being caught. I began to make systematic changes to my network, creating an expanding ring of sand grains that spiralled outwards from the gardens. Once I’d reacquired both Toru’s current location and her general direction, I began creating new checkpoints at each of the locations she was most likely to pass through—
“—with an even better score than the last time,” The attendant cheered. “Eijiro Kirishima finishes the Villain Attack Course with a time of twenty-nine seconds.”
“Momo, I’m not feeling very well,” I said, speaking up. “I’m going to return to the hotel for now.”
“Oh no, I’m so sorry—I hadn’t even realised,” Momo said, startled. “If you give me a moment, I can find the others, and we can walk you back?”
“That’s not necessary, and I’d rather you all continue to experience the I-Expo in my absence,” I said, standing up. “I will rejoin the group as soon as I’m feeling better.”
“If you’re sure,” Momo said, sounding hesitant. “Just—please send me a message if you need anything.”
#
City A, I-Island.
Toru left the boundary of the I-Expo entirely, passing straight through the gate alongside the dozens of others who were heading into City-A. There was a much larger lineup on the other side attempting to regain entry to the I-Expo, but the nature of that process seemed far slower. My strategy for tracking her progress was unfortunately inefficient, but even so, it served as a way to briefly ping her location whenever she unknowingly passed over my lines of sand. I actually lost track of her twice—both times for a stretch of several minutes—before reacquiring her again. At first, I’d thought that she was returning to the hotel rooms that were assigned to the guests of the I-Expo, but she actually walked straight past those set of buildings without so much as a pause in her steps.
I located her destination two blocks later, though I was certain anyone would have, considering the man’s name was written across the bottom floor of the building—but Toru never passed over the scattered grains I’d shifted into place at the front entrance of the building. I began reconstructing a net of grains across every alleyway and building entrance, and then when she didn’t immediately trigger any of them, I started expanding it outwards again. Almost five minutes passed this time, and just when I was considering that she’d managed to slip away entirely, I felt her step out of a nondescript building—there was a small rectangular shimmer in the air about level with where her hip might have been, not quite invisible, but close enough that if she hadn’t been moving, I was pretty sure I wouldn’t have noticed it at all.
Given the context I was working with, it was more than likely the drive that had been spoken about, though what kind of technology was responsible for its active camouflage was beyond me. Paradoxically, the near-invisible drive made it far easier to track her progress down the street, and as she moved closer to David Shield’s building, she began staying right up against the wall. Anytime a person passed by, she would pause in place long enough that the drive would vanish from sight entirely, then once they had moved on, she would creep closer—I sent four grains of sand through the tiny gap in the front doors of the building, shifting them into the corners of the reception area, then moving to expand my network into the building itself. I’d managed to subvert most of the first floor by the time Toru found an opportunity to enter the building, slipping inside at the same time as someone was exiting and then going still as the doors sealed shut behind her.
I watched from beneath the shaded leaves of the potted plant in the corner of the room as she remained in place, two steps left of the door, as the receptionist glanced up at the clock on the wall across from the counter. The moment the woman’s gaze dropped back down to the magazine open on the desk, the invisible drive shimmered back into existence. I tracked its passage across the entrance and through to the next room over. The door to the staircase opened without a visible cause, then closed silently a moment later. I watched as the shimmer ascended the staircase at a steady pace and then settled in to wait as she slowly made her way up all twenty-seven floors.
By the time she finally stepped off on the top, I had sand inside every single room on the top three floors. There were a total of seven people spread out across those floors, but none of them were actually on the twenty-seventh floor, though Toru had no way of discerning that—her pace slowed down again as she slipped out into the hallway and began a systematic search of each room. The more rooms she cleared, the more confident she seemed to become, the lack of people leading her to take more risks—the stocky blonde man on the twenty-sixth floor glanced down at his phone as it beeped, then a troubled expression seemed to take him. I kept an eye on him as Toru paused outside of a room that had a series of unknown machinery present.
Two of the machines looked at least vaguely similar to medical equipment I’d seen before in hospitals, though I wasn’t certain of their exact purpose. Her attention seemed fixed on the array of computers that dominated the far wall. I watched a series of keys being depressed on the keyboard by an unseen force as the password prompt was carefully filled out—how they had managed to obtain the man’s password was an interesting question to which no immediate answer presented itself—before she slotted the invisible drive into one of the high-speed ports on the front of the main system. Toru navigated through a series of windows that were still open and active, minimising each one in turn—a large wireframe model of All Might was rendered on the next panel in neat cyan lines, and directly beside it was a vast amount of very recently updated medical information.
The date listed beneath it was the same as today, which meant the most recent update had most likely been taken this morning when All Might had first arrived on the island. Across the bottom half of the screen was a bar graph of estimated strength measurements with a date below each one, and there was a very clear trend depicted—
“He was sick—” Toru managed, “All Might is losing his power?”
Toru expanded the notation at the bottom to reveal a series of bullet points; some of them were symptoms, and others were observations regarding different aspects of power loss. Listed right near the top was that there was a sharp increase in the rate of power loss that started at the end of February of this year—which was right around the time that the standard Entrance Exam for U.A. High School was taking place. Even if the current rate continued without any further changes, then All Might would have access to no more strength than an average person within two years’ time. The man on the twenty-sixth floor—Samuel Abraham, according to the plaque on his door—left the office, then stepped out into the hall, his phone clasped in one sweaty hand at his hip. I tracked his progress as he moved towards the elevator and then frowned when he pressed the button for the twenty-seventh floor—
“There is someone approaching this floor,” I said, voice quiet. “You cannot stay here for much longer.”
I heard her feet scuff against the floor as she stumbled backwards from the shadows beneath the desk and where my voice had emerged from—I wasn’t willing to reform entirely, given the potential existence of security cameras, but there was enough cover to regain my ability to speak. There was a long moment where I expected her to question my sudden appearance, but the only noise she made was a shaky intake of breath—
“Where—are they?” Toru managed.
“Elevator at the end of the hall; the doors have just opened,” I said, “He’s coming in this direction.”
Toru took a series of rapid screen grabs of all the available information, copied it over to the drive, returned all of the windows to their previous locations, and then locked the computer—but she couldn’t manage to remove the drive itself before the man stepped into the room.
“I know I’m not supposed to contact you, but it’s important,” Samuel said, “It’s not about the equipment—All Might is here, on the island, I mean.”
The response was far too quiet to actually detect with the device being pressed against his ear, but whatever it was, Samuel seemed to shake his head around in complete unease.
“Thousands of villains must have said those words over the years,” Samuel managed, “We should—Wolfram?”
Samuel took the phone away from his ear to stare at the abruptly ended-call screen before swallowing and shaking his head again. He crossed the room—passing straight through the location Toru had just been standing in in the process—before rounding the desk and entering the storeroom. Toru snatched the drive out of the computer and then slipped out of the room the moment the man was out of sight. The grain of sand I’d slipped into the end of the drive connector made the process of tracking her far easier to manage, and I took my time retreating from the building, ensuring that she wouldn’t encounter anyone during her own escape.
Once she made it back outside, she turned on the speed, practically sprinting down the street in an effort to get away from the building and using the alleyways to conceal the sudden visibility of the floating drive clasped in her hand. Toru scaled the roof access ladder of a building, panting loud enough that I could hear her from a dozen meters away and then stepped into the shadow of the overhanging roof and out of sight—the projection of noise shifted, and I could feel her heel twisting across the grains of sand that littered the rooftop.
“I know you’re still here,” Toru said. “Hisoka—”
I pulled sand inwards from all around the building and towards the shadowed alcove and then began reforming directly in front of her. My bodysuit was dragged through the railing towards us, and it passed through my shifting torso until my sand began to fill it out. The very moment I had snapped back into place in front of her, Toru’s fingers caught inside the neck of my bodysuit, and her forearm crashed into my sternum—
“What do you think you’re doing here?” Toru hissed.
I considered the minor act of violence and her continued attempt to keep me pressed back first against the wall—that anger and frustration I’d unleashed back on the school rooftop was once again infused within her voice, but even if it hadn’t been, there was so much sand in the air that I could almost see the vicious twist of her lips.
“I was awarded a ticket during the festival,” I said as her breath washed across my mouth. “You were still in the stadium at the time, so I believe it’s unlikely that you weren’t aware of that.”
“You know that’s not what I’m asking,” Toru said, twisting the material of my bodysuit against my throat. “You’re following me—again.”
“I had a perimeter set up to alert me of anyone entering through the front gates, so I noticed your entrance to the I-Expo,” I said, and then after a moment. “The discussion you had with the President of the Public Health Safety Commission was unusual; how is it that you are already working for her in a professional capacity?”
The grip she had on my costume tightened until it was bordering on painful, but she didn’t immediately respond to my question, and I found myself searching the invisible space directly in front of my face for hints of expression—
“It’s none of your business,” Toru said.
“I see,” I said, “That information on that drive is highly volatile; it would be best if you allowed me to take possession of it.”
Toru raised her forearm until it was pressed against my throat and then shoved me more firmly against the wall—sand began to roll down across her fingers until the shape of her arm was rendered in full view, the thin coating crawling up towards her elbow.
“You can’t just decide that,” Toru said, voice strained. “Don’t—”
I manipulated the sand around her arm, shifting it backwards off my throat, and Toru fought to put more of her body weight into it, but the strength she could bring to bear wasn’t enough to manage the task. Without warning, dozens of grains of sand shifted violently in the air between us as her other arm struck out, and the impact registered as a bright spark of pain across my cheek, then down my neck—sand burst outwards from the point of impact flowing up over her fist and capturing the arm before she could pull it all the way back.
Unwilling to allow her to strike me again, I used my hold on her arms to drag her backwards until she hit the other wall, her arms locked in place above her head. The sand I’d marked the interior of the drive with began to expand, washing outwards and wedging itself between her palm and the outside of the casing. It began to press outwards, leveraging the growing mass to undo her furious grip—and then the drive found its way into my own hand.
“Hisoka—” Toru snapped.
I reached up and touched the place where her knuckle had crashed into my face, the tiny splash of red on my fingertips revealing that she’d managed to split the skin.
“I think I am beginning to understand how important it is for you to succeed,” I said, “But All Might does not wish for this information to be known.”
“You already knew he was losing his powers,” Toru said in realisation. “That’s why you kept making excuses for Midoriya every time I tried to get him to admit there was something going on with him.”
“Yes,” I said, watching her struggle against the hold. “I discovered it at the beginning of the year.”
“You’re not even trying to deny it,” Toru said, “The graph on that computer was real, wasn’t it?”
“It’s unfortunate that I didn’t realise what kind of information you were looking for ahead of time,” I said, “Even if I destroy the drive, you would still be capable of reporting it verbally.”
“Which is why you should just give it back and then let me go,” Toru said, “Maybe I could even forget to mention you when I do give my report—you did save my life, after all.”
The odd addition at the end certainly softened it, but it was still unequivocally a threat, and considering that the person she would be reporting to was the leader of the Hero Association of Japan, the implication was that my failure to comply would result in some kind of direct interference with my future career as a hero—but it was also something that could be dismantled without much effort on my part.
“That’s certainly generous of you,” I said in consideration. “But perhaps I’ll take you to go speak with All Might first.”
“Hisoka,” Toru managed.
“The proliferation of this information amongst criminals and villains was directly responsible for the attack on the USJ, and that was when it was nothing more than a rumour,” I said, “If real evidence was released to the public that in any way confirmed those rumours as factual, then it would result in an immediate spike in criminal activity.”
“You don’t know that,” Toru said, jerking her head from side to side. “But even if you did, there is no reason this will ever become public in the first place.”
“You sound quite certain,” I said, “ Tell me—what does the Madam President of the Public Health Safety Commission intend to do with the information?”
“I—it’s not like she tells me stuff like that,” Toru tried, “But she’s trying to protect Japan from villains—not make it worse.”
“She has just ordered a sixteen-year-old student to misappropriate the private medical information of a pro-hero who has done more to protect Japan than just about anyone else in the world,” I said, “I’m currently uncertain as to the exact laws that were broken, but these actions do not sound like those of a protector—”
I felt an uncomfortable pang at my own words and just how hypocritical they actually were, considering my own actions. Even the fact that it had been villains that were the target of my own illegal activities didn’t do much to vanish it.
“I—I—I never wanted to do this in the first place,” Toru managed, with far less control than she’d maintained up until that moment. “It’s not like I want to go snooping behind All Might’s back, but I’m not the one who gets to make the rules.”
Something small, wet and invisible traced a path down her cheek, passing over a dozen grains of sand in the process, then hit the rest that was coating the floor.
“He’s always looking out for us, and he’s—he’s not just a hero, he’s the hero,” Toru said, voice shaking now. “All Might is the one that everyone looks up to, the one that always comes through when it matters—but I’ve seen the footage the teachers actually managed to recover from the USJ.”
I hadn’t even known that there had been any footage because, as far as I’d been aware, the entire security system had been taken out, which included the cameras. Even then, the staff of U.A. High School had done their best to bury all of the details of the event, so I couldn’t imagine they’d have made it known that actual footage of the event had survived.
“That thing broke our homeroom teacher apart with its bare hands, and then when All Might—the greatest hero in Japan—came to save us, it almost killed him as well,” Toru managed, “Before, I couldn’t understand how that could even be possible, but now I know the truth.”
I’d seen some of that battle, though it had been from a great distance, but there had been a moment where All Might had been briefly restrained. Several of our classmates had come to his aid and facilitated his escape from the trap, but if they hadn’t been as close as they had been, then it might well have ended quite differently.
“Hisoka, if you tell him about this—” Toru said, genuinely crying now. “He’ll hate me, and then I’ll—I’ll—I’ll have to leave the school—”
I allowed the sand restraining her arms to slough off her invisible skin, and the moment it fell to scatter around the ground at her feet, she stumbled forward away from the wall. I raised my arm between us in order to prevent her from closing the distance again and then glanced down as I felt her fingers lock around my wrist—the slight indentation of her grip was oddly visible against my skin. The situation here was complicated, and there wasn’t an easy solution to it because our goals were entirely at odds with one another. The device was hardly important anymore, given that she already knew what the contents were, but if she failed to deliver it, then she would be in a difficult position. It was unavoidable that the Public Health Safety Commission would discover All Might’s secret at this point, but that didn’t mean I was going to allow the physical evidence to continue to exist.
“I never had any intention of telling him in the first place,” I said in consideration. “In exchange for returning the drive to you, you will answer the following question—is the drop-off location being monitored?”
“Yes,” Toru said, “They’ll get an alert the second I put it inside the box.”
I nodded at the words, then shifted my arm until my hand was sitting between us in the air, the shimmering translucent drive sitting unprotected upon my palm.
“You’re really just going to give it back,” Toru said, voice still shaking. “After all of that?”
“Yes,” I said. “Take it.”
Toru’s unwavering grip on my wrist tightened for a moment, and then I felt the fingers of her other hand brush across my palm as she took it from me.
“Toru, I suggest you begin preparing a convincing verbal report,” I said. “Because in the minutes following your successful delivery, that device is going to experience a rather unfortunate malfunction.”
“You can’t just—” Toru managed. “Hisoka.”
My arm fell apart in her grip, followed by the rest of my body, and the sleeve of the bodysuit slipped free as the mass that was allowing it to keep its shape crumbled. It fell to the floor across her feet, then vanished around the overhang as a tendril of sand dragged it out of sight.
“Don’t just leave,” Toru tried. “We were in the middle of a conversation—”
