Nedzu nodded, folding his paws over his cup of tea and waiting. Izuku took a moment to order his thoughts and began speaking, beginning with the city.
"It was a mob city, early on. Corrupt. Whole police department was in the pocket of one guy or another, all of the millions of dollars poured in by charities and benevolent billionaires didn't matter, because it all got embezzled or redirected. Bruce was a rich kid, insulated, right up until his parents took a wrong shortcut and got gunned down right in front of him. Guess that sort of thing lights a fire in people. Most people aren't geniuses with enough money that they can go on a half decade long trip around every assassin and mystical martial arts club in the world."
"Most people wouldn't become a costumed hero, but it takes all sorts to make a world," Nedzu said cheerfully. Izuku quirked the faintest smile, nodding.
"Right. He came back, the mobs didn't know what to make of him. He was like a one man army, and with him around the police department started to get cleaned up, people started going to prison, it was looking better. Only, turned out that Bruce wasn't the only costumed crazy hiding in Gotham. The mobs had kept them down, probably, but for certain they started popping up all over. And when I call them costumed crazies they really were."
Izuku shook his head.
"Jason used to think, sometimes, that it was better back in the old days. To stay on topic – the Joker. He was a clown themed villain, allegedly. In the early days, you know, he was whacky. Zany. Infect all the fish in the harbour with Joker Toxin so he could copyright them, change every printing press to invisible ink, that kind of thing. But, looking back…looking back, he killed less civilians, but he still killed a lot of people. I remember the fish thing – the toxin made them more like piranhas, and he just shoved one of his henchmen into the tank for a laugh. Harley adored him for some reason, and he beat the crap out of her whenever he felt like it. And as time went on he got worse."
"It's not uncommon for criminals to escalate as time goes on," Nedzu commented. Izuku nodded.
"Right. Most of the Rogues – that was what they called them, Batman's Rogues Gallery – escalated too. Scarecrow went from drugging random people to trying to gas entire streets. Freeze started talking about a new Ice Age. But Joker – Joker went from zany to malevolent psychopath so quick I can barely believe it."
"Do you know the turning point?"
Izuku laughed bitterly, shaking his head. Unable to tolerate sitting any longer he stood up from his seat and started to pace, fingers tapping an uneven rhythm against his legs.
"The turning point, sir, was when Joker kidnapped Jason Todd and murdered him."
Izuku sighed, pinching at the bridge of his nose.
"That's not helpful," he chided himself, "There's no context."
He sighed, long and deep, and shook his head.
"Alright. Bruce – Batman – adopted a kid called Dick Grayson when he was younger. It was a whole thing – Dick's parent's were murdered and he helped Bruce catch the murderer, that sort of thing, and then he bullied his way into becoming Bruce's sidekick, Robin. He was young, younger than I am, but he was good at it. When he moved out, graduated into his own grown up hero name, Bruce adopted Jason Todd. Couple of months later, there was a new Robin around."
"That seems reckless," Nedzu mildly observed, "Assuming that Jason was around the age of, ah, Mr Grayson."
"Reckless," Izuku said, shrugging, "Stupid. Ridiculous. Insane, take your pick. But the thing is, it mostly worked out. Jason wasn't as tech-savvy as Dick but he was pretty good at it, and a good combatant. He was Robin for a few years, until he was about sixteen I guess, about my age. And then…"
"He died? You did tell me this before. You don't have to say it again, Mr Midoriya."
Izuku, throat tight with emotion, nodded and Nedzu continued.
"So he died and was brought back to life by…magic, I think you said?"
"Something like that," Izuku croaked, not elaborating. Nedzu, thankfully, didn't ask.
The Principal gave Izuku a couple of minutes to collect himself, drinking his tea and waiting until Izuku shook his head and resumed speaking, his voice level again.
"So, magic or chemicals – no-one was ever sure, doesn't really matter – Jason was dumped in a Lazarus Pit and came back crazy. The Pits always do that. Either way, he spent the next three years in basically a fugue state, wandering around as a mercenary or a vigilante or whatever, I don't really remember, and then he came back to himself and decided to go back to Gotham."
"Not, I take it, to reunite with his family."
Izuku smiled, but he knew it was an unhappy expression.
"No," he said, "He had this whole plan…take over part of the underworld, get a mob boss to break the Joker out of Arkham, kidnap the Joker, force Bruce to kill the Joker. It was…a whole thing."
In hindsight, it had been a very stupid whole thing. Jason should have just put a magazine of bullets into the back of Joker's head and dumped him in an incinerator. But he'd wanted proof that Bruce could protect him, that Bruce loved him enough to break any rule. Stupid. But there was nothing to be done about it now.
"From your description, I assume that he didn't kill the Joker."
Izuku shook his head.
"No, of course not. Bruce was…if anything, Bruce was committed to the idea that everyone can be redeemed. Everyone can be better. It's admirable, you know, and it even worked for some of the Rogues. The Riddler, Two-Face, Killer Croc, they all got proper treatment and were on their way to being productive members of society before they relapsed. But Joker…"
"A malevolent psychopath, you said," Nedzu said. His dark eyes, peering over the lip of the tea cup, were very sharp. Izuku felt uncomfortably exposed under that knowing gaze, but he nodded.
"He had this whole complex about one bad day. One bad day could turn anyone into a monster, so on and so on," Izuku said, "It had never worked on Bruce, but I guess…I guess he wanted to try on someone else."
Had it been seeing Jason, murderously angry and unhinged, that had sparked Joker's plan? Izuku felt the memory of sick guilt in his stomach despite knowing it was misplaced. He took a drink of his tea to quell it and continued.
"About a year later, I guess, he drugged Superman somehow. I don't know how, because he shouldn't have been a match for Clark – but somehow he was. It was a mixture of chemicals, but I know the base was Fear Toxin: it made Clark see his most loved one as his most feared enemy. So…"
"He killed them, of course," Nedzu said, "With superpowers like that, any enemy he feared…"
Izuku nodded.
"His pregnant wife," he agreed, "And somehow, he'd - Joker had - gotten his hands on a nuke. Wired it to a dead man's switch and hid it under the largest city in America. When Lois died the nuke went off, and…"
"Millions dead," Nedzu said, his tone strangely flat, "More dying. Superman's home destroyed, his family dead. He snapped."
Izuku nodded.
"Joker had been taken into custody, from what I – Jason – heard. Clark smashed down the wall, lifted Joker by the collar, and ripped his heart out with his bare hand."
Izuku shook his head.
"Good riddance."
"Good riddance," Nedzu echoed, a rare frown on his face. Izuku looked at him, watching the way the frown shifted into a scowl before Nedzu spoke again.
"Forgive me, Mr Midoriya," he said, "Simply taking it all in. I'm used to villains who at least have an understandable motivation, selfish though it may be. A luxurious life, for All For One. Power, for the MLA. Wealth, again, for Wolfram and his Iron Star. But the Joker, a man who just wanted to wreak havoc…forgive me, but I cannot imagine why he was left alive."
"You and me both, sir," Izuku said, "He was a monster. Clark did a good thing."
"But he didn't stop there, did he? Not to embrace a logical fallacy, but the slippery slope is proverbial for a reason."
Izuku nodded.
"Clark was…he wasn't too far gone, I think. He'd killed, sure, but that doesn't mean he couldn't stop. It's just that nobody, well, nobody managed to sit down and talk him down. Bruce was so fixated on his no killing rule that he never bothered to empathise, and nobody managed to actually sit down with Clark and tell him that killing more people wasn't going to solve all his problems, that he was taking his rage out on anyone he thought deserved it and it couldn't last. Or nobody he'd listen to, anyway. And there weren't many of them around."
Not that Izuku blamed him. Clark's rage – well, Clark's rage had been entirely understandable. Too understandable.
"And Jason?" Nedzu prompted. Izuku smiled bitterly, a grim twist of the lips.
"Jason? Jason spent three weeks in his apartment as he tried to get over the fact that if he'd just killed the Joker when he made his big return none of it would have happened, and then he compartmentalised it and went out to the streets, because someone had to look after it. I – he – didn't think Clark was wrong at first. How could he, the Joker had…no jury in the world could convict a man for killing the Joker, not after Metropolis. But then the body count started to rise. Clark had some good ideas. But the execution was…"
"Somewhat too literal?"
The dark humour, so very sudden, dragged a barking laugh out of Izuku.
"Very much so. Clark's whole thing to get rid of Arkham Asylum was a good one: the number of times the Rogues broke out was in the double digits for some, nobody ever got decent treatment, anyone normal who had the misfortune to go in never came out sane. But doing it by going in and killing basically everyone? Not all the Rogues deserved to die."
Izuku shook his head.
"It all went downhill from there. Heroes picked sides, villains picked sides, governments fell or were replaced, and about ten years later Jason somehow ended up in de facto command of the Insurgency."
"And that was where he died?" Nedzu asked, eyes intent, "What about Superman? You indicated he was dead too, but it wasn't completely clear."
No. No, he hadn't been clear, had he? Truth be told, Izuku couldn't be certain that Clark's mind hadn't come along for the ride like Jason's had, simply because he didn't really know how Jason's memories had ended up inside his skull. But.
"I think," Izuku said slowly, carefully considering as he spoke, "I think that Jason's memories ended up being transported because he'd activated the Dimensional Transporter, and he was leaning against it when the explosion happened. Like it half teleported him, maybe. Clark wasn't, he was powerless and trying to outrun the explosion."
"Do you think he could have outrun the blast?"
Izuku smiled bitterly, shaking his head.
"Jason wasn't being subtle," he said, remembering as best he could. The memories of Jason's last moments were fuzzy, but he could recall packing the explosives and the bittersweet knowledge that Clark couldn't get away in time.
"When I packed the explosives, I put in enough to level a city block," Izuku said, "Just in case. Jason wanted to make sure, so he did. Used some exotic explosives that don't even exist in this reality to pack more blast force into a small area. Clark couldn't have escaped."
"But if he did?" Nedzu pressed. Izuku looked down at his tea, frowning, not really seeing the liquid.
"If he did," he said slowly, "He wouldn't have his powers. Clark wasn't stupid, and he did know how to fight, but his powers were all naturally his. Super strength, flight, toughness, super-speed, the freezing breath, the eye lasers…he wouldn't have those. Just whatever the body his memories landed in had. And there's no guarantee that whoever ended up with his memories would try to do all the same things as he did."
Nedzu nodded silently.
"I'll try and keep an eye out for any sign of him," he said, "But perhaps we will be fortunate and only your memories were accidentally brought across."
Izuku nodded, a thought drifting through his mind.
"You've decided that I do have multiversal memories then, sir? Not the result of a Quirk?"
"I haven't ruled it out yet," Nedzu said, "Rule out nothing, after all. However, given the details you've offered and the lack of any relevant Quirk that I can find I lean towards believing you. That brings entirely other concerns, of course. Multiversal issues could truly be a new frontier in heroic struggles!"
Izuku tried not to look too horrified at the thought of multiversal heroism – he had more than enough on his plate as it was. He must have not quite managed, because Nedzu took one look at his expression and nodded, smiling that sharp-toothed smile.
"But perhaps we will keep this to ourselves for the moment," he said, "I wonder. If the transporter only threw Jason's memories to us, what happened to the rest of him? Was his body left in the explosion?"
Izuku had a sudden and very unwelcome vision of Jason's body landing on him all those months ago rather than his memories and shuddered. No thank you, trauma. Not today. Nedzu shook his head.
"I suppose it doesn't matter," he said, "Well. It's good to have the mystery cleared up, at last. Thank you for telling me, Mr Midoriya. I know it can't have been easy."
It had brought up memories that Izuku would have preferred to never dwell on again, especially how Jason's failure to kill the Joker had led to the deaths of so many people, but Izuku just nodded. There was no point going over it all again. He looked down at his tea again, filled with a sort of nervous anticipation.
"You must have more questions, sir."
"Oh, always," Nedzu said, beaming brightly, "But I'll try not to ask every one of them at the moment. It's late, after all! But I do have to ask a few, if you don't mind."
"I don't mind," Izuku said, curious despite himself. Nedzu, of all people, would almost certainly have something interesting to ask. The Principal took a sip of his tea, eyes never leaving Izuku's face, before speaking.
"All Might told me about your conversation, when you refused One For All," he said, talking around the subject, "I was interested in your reasoning. Something about it seemed incorrect, although not entirely a lie. It's a little clearer now, that I know about your memories. So, let me ask – and forgive me for the insensitivity of the question – do you resent that the memories you received left you feeling unworthy of One For All?"
The question, it had to be said, took Izuku completely off guard. Nedzu had lost his smile, adopting a serious expression that was almost certainly an intentional attempt to seem like he wasn't joking, and Izuku found that he couldn't meet his eyes.
Did he resent the memories he'd gained? He couldn't really say that he'd ever thought about it, other than the brief moments where he couldn't help but feel that Dick, or Tim, or Bruce would have done a better job. Those short times when Jason's lingering inferiority complex reared its head just to torment him, personally. But that wasn't what Nedzu had asked.
"I told All Might," Izuku said slowly, thinking back, "That the person I was a year ago would have jumped at the chance to take One For All. I remember that."
Nedzu nodded.
"Hence my question," he said, "Just an interest."
Izuku leaned back and raised his left hand, staring at the metal and plastic that now replaced the flesh, slowly flexing the digits as he thought. If he'd had One For All he might not have this, might have been able to defeat Shigaraki and the Nomu. Or maybe he wouldn't have known how to fight and he would have gotten just as injured and never been able to save Mina. Would it be nice to be free to accept the strongest Quirk in the world? Probably. But…there was more to life than strength, and without Jason's memories he'd have never found the OMC, never found out about the MLA, never saved Eri. Izuku weighed that against the possibilities of having One For All and abruptly shook his head.
"I don't know if I would have been a better Hero without these memories," he said, "But I don't regret having them. For all I know, without them I'd just be another faceless corporate drone who regrets his whole life. I can't resent who I am. I don't."
"You don't," Nedzu observed, eyes sparkling with a strange light, "But do you think the person you were before the memories would have?"
Izuku…flinched. That was a low blow, but he'd known that Nedzu was the sort of person to push like that. And, maybe, it made sense.
"Trying to see how I react to someone pushing my buttons, sir?" Izuku asked, his attempts to keep his tone level ending up making it flat and dry. Nedzu shrugged.
"I am genuinely interested," he said, "But that is a useful side effect. I truly do apologise for bringing it up, however."
"Not enough that you don't want me to answer, though," Izuku muttered. He didn't get an answer – he didn't expect one – but he thought back to who he was almost a year ago, frowning.
"I don't think so," Izuku said, his mouth feeling strangely numb as he spoke about himself like a different person, "He was – I wasn't who I am now, but he always wanted to be a Hero. Maybe he'd have preferred One For All, because he wanted to be the sort of hero who saves everyone with a smile, but Red Hood is good enough for me. It would be good enough for him."
Was Nedzu convinced? Even Izuku wasn't convinced, and he knew that Nedzu had noted the slightly detached way he'd spoken of himself. But it was true that Izuku wasn't that person any longer, irrevocably changed by the memories he'd inherited. It was sad, in a way, even if he wouldn't change it.
"It's good to know who you are, Mr Midoriya," Nedzu said, "I'm glad that you do. For what it's worth, while I do think it less likely that All Might would encounter your past self and offer him One For All, I do think you would have been worthy of it. Call it a gut feeling, even if I don't have them very often."
"That's very kind of you, sir," Izuku murmured, "Did you have another question?"
"No," Nedzu said quietly, "Not at the moment. I think I've been insensitive enough for one day – I never thought I'd say that! Still, I must thank you for telling me the truth. It's been enlightening, and I will most certainly continue to investigate in case Superman's memories followed Red Hood's. I'll keep that to myself though, I think. I dread to think what the HSPC might make of it all."
Izuku nodded, a frown crossing his face. Nedzu gave him an inquisitive look.
"Something on your mind, Mr Midoriya?"
Izuku nodded, arranging his thoughts.
"In Jason's home universe there was a government group run by a woman called Amanda Waller," he said, "Jason only learned this because he almost got caught up in it. They called themselves Task Force X, I think? But the unwilling participants called themselves the Suicide Squad. The government took imprisoned villains and used them for black ops work, with explosive chips in their heads to ensure obedience."
"Oh dear," Nedzu said softly, "Did it work?"
Izuku shrugged.
"Not very well," he said, "It was fine to begin with, I suppose, but once you've blown up a couple of people…you need to get villains who're low profile enough to vanish without Heroes looking for them, but skilled enough to do the task you want. Then they have to actually listen to you, and not have the connections that their friends'll come after you. They were getting on to pretty low-quality villains by the time Superman found out and shut the whole thing down."
"I would have thought Jason might have approved," Nedzu said, eyes sharp, "After all, it's one way for villains to repay their debt to society."
Izuku shook his head.
"It's one thing to kill someone who's trying to kill you," he said, "It's another to force them to go out and murder someone who's about the blow the whistle on something you're doing with the threat of getting their head blown off. Waller talked a lot about the greater good and national security, but she was a lunatic on a power trip. She was just lucky enough to be working for people who didn't care."
Nedzu propped his chin on his laced paws.
"Funny you should say that," he murmured, "Tell me, how did your research into Lady Nagant go?"
Izuku froze for a second before shaking it off. No, Nedzu had already demonstrated antipathy towards the HSPC, he wouldn't sell Izuku out. And, technically, there was nothing to sell Izuku out for. It wasn't illegal to look up a known villain, after all, even if his paranoia insisted otherwise.
"It isn't, sir," he said, pausing. Nedzu seemed to guess what he was thinking.
"Whatever you say will go no further than this room, Mr Midoriya," he said, "You have my word on that."
Well, if Izuku had trusted the Principal to guide him through dangerous infiltrations he supposed he could trust him here. He shrugged, trying for nonchalant and probably failing.
"I stopped researching after I realised that she was probably being used as some sort of black-ops agent," he admitted, "I thought it was too dangerous."
"Almost certainly a wise decision," Nedzu said, "While your status as a student of UA does provide certain protections, I very much doubt it would be sufficient. We both know that, sadly, many people go missing every day."
Honestly a terrifying way to phrase it, but sadly accurate. Nedzu nodded, almost to himself.
"Indulge my curiosity, however. I'm sure your memories made realising that something was wrong with Nagant comparatively easy, but why did you look into her at all?"
Izuku shrugged.
"I'm a Hero who uses guns, sir. She was a Hero who used guns. I remembered and it just seemed off. So I looked deeper into it."
Izuku paused, seeing Nedzu nod encouragingly before continuing.
"Nagant's killings were initially assassinations, if you know how to look," Izuku said, "Clean, precise, spaced out. Carefully chosen. There's probably some that were other hitmen, and some that she carried out that were properly hidden, but mostly she doesn't fit serial killer patterns. The murders she was imprisoned for, though, were a spree killing: HSPC agents and supposedly unaffiliated Heroes. My guess? She snapped. Lost her mind over killing people and went on a rampage. Her handler, her handler's friends, her colleagues. She was taken down, sealed trial like any Hero who goes on a rampage, straight to Tartarus. No visitors."
Izuku paused, frowning.
"The only thing that surprises me is that she's still alive," he said eventually. Nedzu gave him a knowing look.
"I take it that, in the HSPC's position, you wouldn't risk it?"
Izuku shrugged.
"She killed a lot of people. A revenge bombing on her prison transport could easily be attributed to any number of people. The collateral would be severe, but if you're already having agents murder people then why would that stop you?"
"Would you?" Nedzu mildly asked. Izuku looked up sharply before shaking his head.
"I don't think I'd get into the situation at all," he said, evading the question. Nedzu looked amused but didn't press him any further.
"I believe that not all the HSPC knew about Nagant," Nedzu said instead, "Which makes sense for her to make it to trial. The part that was controlling her had been heavily damaged by her attacks, and while the rest didn't want the truth to come out they weren't able to bring themselves to murder her. Thus the trial and the imprisonment. Trying to have their cake and eat it too, so to speak."
"I hope you're right, sir," Izuku said. Nedzu nodded.
"As do I, naturally! While I do have my problems with the HSPC, they are a bastion of our society. But I confess, the thought of them being so utterly inept as to leave such a loose end alive is far more alarming than the prospect of them being half corrupt. A corrupt man can be persuaded that doing the right thing is in his own best interest. An inept man simply cannot be trusted."
Izuku, in Nedzu's words, heard the echo of his own argument for Hero motivations – when you've saved a family from a burning building, does it really matter why? Ideally the HSPC would be neither corrupt nor incompetent, but one was a lesser evil.
"For the moment, however, better to let sleeping dogs lie," Nedzu said, "Bringing down and replacing the HSPC might sound satisfying, but it would also be a terrible amount of work. Especially with the MLA and League of Villains lurking in the shadows, no doubt waiting for a moment to strike."
Nedzu went quiet briefly, shaking his head.
"There's nothing to be done at the moment but continue doing as we are, unfortunately," he said, "So long as you're willing to continue your infiltration? I confess, knowing more about your memories does sooth my worries somewhat."
Izuku nodded.
"I'll continue, sir," he said, "Of course I will. I all but started this, I can't step away now."
Nedzu peered closely at him, those dark eyes seeming to stare into Izuku's very soul, before he bared his fangs in what was probably supposed to be a smile.
"I suppose I shouldn't have expected any different! Well then, Mr Midoriya, we shall continue. But not tonight, given the late hour. You should be taking your disguise off, and returning home. And do try not to be kidnapped on the way? While I have faith in your ability to escape, I think your mother might genuinely storm UA if it happens again."
Izuku nodded, standing from his chair and walking over to the door.
"You're right, sir," he said, "I shouldn't worry her."
He paused by the door, looking back as Nedzu started to type at something, and wondered what the signs of tiredness would look like on the always chipper Principal. He couldn't see any, but that didn't mean they weren't there. But there wasn't much that he could do, was there? Only…
"Good night, sir."
"Good night, Mr Midoriya, and safe travels."
Nedzu looked back down and Izuku, without another word, walked through the door and away.
When Izuku got back to his home, after a late night journey on a quiet and empty train and a walk down streets just as dark and empty, there was a letter waiting for him. More accurately there was a leaflet waiting for him, with a letter stapled to it. Bizarrely, Izuku's first thought was how antiquated it was to be writing a letter these days. He walked around where it lay on the mat, paranoid instincts that had been honed by the night whispering about nail bombs and anthrax, and studied it carefully.
The leaflet was for the nearest Humarise outreach centre, which didn't really help Izuku decide one way or the other if it was a trap. On one hand, it was unlikely that Humarise would want to harm a Quirkless person. On the other hand, if someone wanted to lull him into a false sense of security then a leaflet from Humarise would seem an obvious choice. Izuku scowled. Thinking in circles, he realised. He left the leaflet where it lay for the moment, carefully checking the entire house just to be sure. There was no-one in except him, which did settle his nerves a little.
Jason had once done something like this, putting a tricky little bomb filled with sedative gas into a letter and waiting in the house for his target to pass out. Really, it would have been easier to just sneak up on them and tranquilise them, but he'd wanted to test out the concept and it really wasn't time to get lost in the past. Carefully Izuku reached down and picked the leaflet off the floor with his prosthetic. If it really was laced with anthrax it probably wouldn't help, but Izuku was fairly sure he could get treatment before he expired.
Just in case he took out his phone, dialling Nedzu's number.
"Mr Midoriya?"
"Sir, someone's put a Humarise leaflet with a letter attached through my door. Sorry for the paranoia, but just in case there's something in here-"
"You wanted to call someone in case something goes off when you open it?"
"Yes, sir."
"Is there anything unusual about the letter?"
Izuku carefully turned the leaflet over to get a better look at the letter. All it said on the front was his name.
"Just my name, sir, and it's handwritten. Not cut out of a newspaper or anything like that. It does reduce the chances of it being some sort of trap."
"Reduce but not remove. Is your mother home?"
Izuku shook his head, distracted.
"She works late tonight," he said, "It's just me and there's nobody else in, I checked, so it's probably not filled with some sort of sedative trap. I'm going to open it now."
Nedzu didn't say anything, but Izuku could feel his focus through the phone. He took the letter in his right hand, popping open the seal with his left. His heart beat just a little faster in anticipation, but…nothing. No hiss, no snap, no cloud of gas. Just an envelope and, inside, a letter.
"The paper isn't anything unusual," Izuku said, studying it, "Just normal paper like you'd find anywhere. Lined. And it's written in pen."
Blue pen, too. It was, on the whole, a completely normal note in a completely normal envelope. Izuku pulled out the folded piece of paper and unfolded it, eyes narrowing as he read what it said.
"Mr Midoriya," he said aloud, so Nedzu could hear, "We are honoured to contact the first Quirkless student of UA Academy."
"Incorrect," Nedzu said, "There have been several before, although you are probably the most high-profile. If accidentally."
"Flattering, though," Izuku murmured, reading on, "It's mostly a spiel about what Humarise does and how the endorsement of such a valued future member of the Hero community could do good for my people. Hmm…ah. There it is."
"Oh?"
"We have recently become aware that a member of the General Studies course at your school was rendered Quirkless in an accident. In this time of distress, we are obliged to make contact with him to discuss his future and support we can offer, but we felt it would be better to reach out through a schoolmate of his. They know about Akatani. Damn. Damn, damn, damn…damn."
"That is unideal," Nedzu said thoughtfully, "A foot in the door, but it would require you to meet yourself."
Izuku put the letter down on a side-table to pinch the bridge of his nose, scowling. Of all the times for Humarise to decide to pop out of the shadows – and unless there was a trustable Hero somewhere with some sort of shape-shifting Quirk, Izuku and Akatani Mikumo weren't going to be meeting with Humarise. He looked down the rest of the note, seeing only the address and time at the bottom along with a single name.
"It's signed 'Sightseer'," Izuku said, his tone going flat, "Someone likes their spy movies too much. A time, a place, a meeting."
"But no gases or diseases?" Nedzu asked. Izuku shrugged despite knowing that Nedzu wouldn't be able to see him.
"None that I can tell," he said, thinking, "I suppose it might not be too bad to at least go to the meeting? I can always say no."
"When is the meeting?"
Izuku checked the date on the letter and his phone for the current date, just to make sure he remembered correctly.
"Three days," he said, "When school starts back up. That's interesting, maybe to give me time to try and find Akatani before I go and meet them?"
They were both silent, considering that.
"It couldn't hurt to go and meet them," Izuku said eventually, "So long as I don't end up accidentally infiltrating Humarise as both Akatani and myself. That could get confusing quickly."
"I have faith in your ability to pull it off, but I agree. So long as there is no trap, however, that can wait."
"Um," Izuku said, "Yes. Sorry, sir. Paranoia got the better of me."
"Ah, well," Nedzu said, "It isn't paranoia when they really are out to get you! I'll speak to you soon, Mr Midoriya, so please don't do anything rash about this Humarise invitation. Once again, have a pleasant evening!"
"Have a good night, sir."
The Principal put the phone down and Izuku left it on the table, looking at the hand-written invitation with a frown. This really was getting too complicated he thought ruefully, briefly wishing for the good old days when it was just the OMC and their questionable capabilities. But then, he reminded himself yet again, he wouldn't have rescued Eri. He walked over to the window, looking out over the dark streets and wondering where she was.
What had Nedzu said? A small island, somewhere remote and quiet where Eri could grow up in peace. Izuku did have to wonder what she might do in the future. A doctor? A Hero? Something completely unrelated to either of those? At least she'd have the choice. Nedzu had mentioned something about perhaps giving her training, enough to repair All Might's injuries and even Izuku's arm, but Izuku wasn't sure he'd want her to. For All Might having his injuries reversed, assuming Eri was even capable of it, would take him back to his prime. For Izuku it would ruin months of training and actual growth.
And besides that…he looked down at his prosthetic, the limb catching the gleam of a streetlight, and shook his head. He was getting sentimental in his old age, and the fact that he was looking out of a window at a dark night didn't much help. He tried to keep track of which Heroes were likely to be around his area, although he was personally more interested in the vigilantes. Izuku had been researching a previous vigilante who called himself The Crawler, but whoever it was had seemingly retired a while ago. Well, 'retired': a Japanese man calling himself The Skycrawler had appeared in America shortly afterwards. So much for secret identities. There'd been other vigilantes, too, but they'd been a little more subtle.
Izuku didn't really expect to see them around here anyway. He let his eyes rove around the rooftops, looking for any sign of movement, his paranoia unsatisfied by the lack of threat from the letter. But there was nothing…nothing out there. Izuku scowled, closing the curtains and turning back. He was restless.
"I hate waiting around," he groused to himself, "It takes so long. And Nedzu! I'd rather he argued with me. Agreeing just isn't right."
If anyone had replied Izuku would probably have gone out the window. Fortunately for the window there was no-one there, and so Izuku was able to pace around the room until he worked out some of the nervous energy that had built up from admitting his memories to Nedzu. Part of him wanted to go out, look for trouble like Jason would have, but the rest of him managed to squash it. He did, however, give in to his paranoia and start planning places to leave caches of equipment. Just in case something went wrong.
Nothing was going to go wrong, he told himself. But…just in case. And speaking of just in case. Izuku hated to do it, but…well. Better safe than sorry, and he'd made enough enemies recently that if something went wrong he'd be very sorry. Grimly Izuku unearthed a non-descript notebook that, in careful code, contained all of the things he didn't want anyone to know about and, with a heavy heart, began to record everything he remembered of the formula for Venom.
Better safe than sorry.
Three days later found Izuku in a considerably better mood. Back at UA with his friends, setting himself up to meet some weirdo trying to recruit him into a cult, honestly this was the sort of thing that made him feel alive. And, for their first day, they were doing something special. Admittedly when Izuku found out exactly what it was his mood dimmed slightly, but he was still in a better mood than he had been.
"Supermoves, heck yeah!" Kirishima enthused, briefly flashing his Quirk on and slamming rocky knuckles together. Mina did exactly the same thing, if less strongly, and Tsuyu gave Izuku an amused glance.
"Not excited, ribbit?'
"Delighted," Izuku mumbled, looking around the open sky and squinting at the UA gym in the distance, "I hope we're not being graded on how effectively we use our Quirks again."
"You aren't," Aizawa said, appearing behind him and scaring the life out of Kiri and Mina – even Izuku twitched slightly, but he was able to hide the instinctive clenching of his fingers given that they were tucked under his helmet. That man, Izuku decided, was creepy. And he knew it too, which only made it worse.
"But you will be graded on…imagination," Aizawa continued, the expression on his face when he said 'imagination' suggesting that he'd rather be chewing glass, "So I suggest being creative."
Somehow, he managed to look even more disgusted as All Might emerged from the shadows, beaming, suit obnoxiously bright in the lights. Izuku smiled, good mood returning. It was impossible not to smile back at that big grin.
"Supermoves!" All Might boomed, bashing his fists together in exactly the same way Kiri and Mina had. Aizawa sighed next to Izuku, the noise sounding like it came from the very bottom of his soul.
"What supermove do you have, sir?" Izuku asked curiously, wondering if he'd get a straight answer. Aizawa gave him a jaundiced look from the corner of his eye and then, in a voice that sounded like a cement mixer filled with broken plates, gave his answer.
"I just say 'Erasing kick' and then uppercut whoever's closest," he said flatly. Izuku, Kiri, Tsuyu and Mina all turned to look at him, less surprised by the answer and more horrified at being told back the joke.
"You heard-" Mina started, before zipping her mouth shut. Aizawa stared down at her, exhausted.
"You'd be surprised how well it works," he said, completely toneless. Kiri, Mina and Tsuyu looked at Izuku.
"Is he joking?"
Izuku genuinely couldn't tell. Aizawa must have been working on his poker face, because his lips didn't move from their general position of irritability and his eyes were half-closed with sleep, as normal. Izuku narrowed his eyes. Nobody retained an expression that neutral accidentally.
"He's joking," he declared, although he couldn't stop the bafflement from sneaking into his tone. Aizawa grunted, which Izuku recognised as an almost perfect rendition of the Bat-Grunt Number 56: "I've been caught, but I don't want to admit it."
Honestly, it was disconcerting. If Izuku didn't know full well that Bruce had been dead before the Dimensional Transporter had exploded he'd think Aizawa had gotten some memories. Hmm. That would imply, Izuku thought, that All Might could have gotten Superman's memories. Strangely, Izuku didn't think he was frightened of the thought. If anyone could shake off Clark's influence it would be All Might.
"Supermoves," All Might continued ahead of them, "Are one of the core aspects of being a Hero! It's not just about power. It's about making a statement! It's about announcing that I! Am! Here! A properly designed and performed Super Move is the heart of a Hero, bringing hope to their allies and fear to their enemies!"
Aizawa sighed, walking through the rest of the class to join All Might. All Might beamed even more widely at the sight of him, but Aizawa just shook his head. All Might, remarkably, was unfazed.
"A Super Move should be something unique to you," All Might continued, "Or at the very least, something unusual! Something that you can always keep in reserve, until you need it to deliver the finishing blow and achieve certain victory!"
"Is having twenty punches that are all named different things really a supermove collection?" Aizawa asked. All Might did react this time, embarrassment colouring his features before he shook his head.
"And even if your Super Move is just what you normally do but bigger," he boisterously continued, "The increased understanding of what your Quirk can do will only make you better and better! I believe in you, children! Let's all go Plus Ultra!"
"Your work at the training camp was to prepare you for this," Aizawa continued as All Might stuck one fist in the air and posed, "You worked to strengthen your Quirks. Now it's time to make use of that. You haven't completely let me down so far, so…go Plus Ultra. Now, come on. We don't have all day."
The class trailed behind Aizawa as he walked into the large building, Gym Gamma. Inside it looked like nothing so much as a warehouse, as far as Izuku was concerned. A large and clean warehouse, yes, but still – a warehouse. Around Izuku his classmates talked excitedly, throwing out ideas and hopes, but Izuku stayed quiet, thinking.
Technically – technically, he might already have a plan for a supermove, if you could call it that. Prior to joining up with Superman's Regime Bane had begun to roll out a new kind of Venom, a diluted version that came in patches, pretty much the size of a nicotine patch. Those Venom Patches, as they'd unimaginatively been called, hadn't lasted as long or been as effective as regular Venom, at the price of far fewer side effects and not needing the subject to be in peak physical condition. In theory, if Izuku could replicate those patches, he could gain a burst of super-strength when he would need it, long enough for a quick attack.
He'd already given it the possible name of Venom Rush.
There were, however, a couple of problems with Venom Rush. First, and most practical, was that he needed the Venom patches. He thought that he'd cracked the formula for creating them, but he hadn't actually tested it – and there was no way that he'd be testing it in the Support lab, because the thought of Hatsume with access to super-steroids filled him with a primal fear. So there was that issue. Secondly, and possibly more importantly, was the PR issue. Izuku hated to admit it, but a Hero using performance enhancing drugs was probably a bad look.
Then again, so long as you weren't caught…Izuku was broken out of his musing by Kirishima talking to Mina about supermoves, in particular combination supermoves.
"Yeah, Red Gauntlet is alright," Kirishima said, "But I need something more, you know? It's basically just a punch! Kinda sad that we're only doing regular supermoves, though, because I saw Mount Lady and Kamui Woods using this combined move and it was incredible! So manly."
Mina wrinkled her nose.
"I don't know if I'd call Kamui Woods manly," she said doubtfully, "He's kinda skinny, you know? And Mount Lady is, uh, a lady."
"Manliness is a state of mind," Kirishima said, clenching a fist over his heart, "Not a state of body! Anyone can achieve true manliness, if they have the spirit!"
"That's very zen of you, ribbit. Anyway, the two of you have already managed a supermove combination."
Kirishima abruptly dropped his pose, looking over at Tsuyu.
"We have? When?"
"The Training Camp, when we were first sent into the forest?" Izuku guessed, looking at Tsuyu himself, "The acid trip into the Red Gauntlet?"
"Yes!" Kirishima said, slamming a fist into his palm, "Right! Although, uh, do you have to call it an acid trip?"
"You know Mina's going to be calling a move that now, ribbit. I wonder if Midnight will let this one go when she didn't let Alien Queen be?"
"Midnight loves innuendo," Mina said, "It'll work fine. And yes, I am going to make a supermove called Acid Trip, just for you guys! Plus, didn't you and Tsuyu kinda do a supermove too, Midori? With you luring the monster in?"
Izuku glanced at Tsuyu, who shrugged.
"I don't know if running away counts," he said, "Although I hope it does. That sounds like a really easy supermove."
All of his friends gave him disbelieving looks at that, as though fully aware that he was more likely to run into danger than away from it, and Izuku shrugged in embarrassment.
"Anyway," Kirishima said, shaking off Izuku saying something ridiculous, "I wonder if combination moves will count? You think Aizawa will allow it?"
"I think he'll say something like 'You can't choose where you fight or who you fight with, and it's stupid to have a move that relies on someone else being there'," Izuku admitted, to a round of sad nods. Izuku looked past his friends and saw Aizawa, looking right back. Their teacher smiled, a mocking expression like he'd just heard what Izuku said, and it took more effort than Izuku expected to resist Jason's memories and not make an obscene gesture Aizawa's way. Maybe Aizawa realised, because his mocking grin turned real for a moment before he continued into the warehouse.
"He probably would say that," Mina agreed sadly, before she brightened, "What about you, Midori? Do you have any supermoves already planned?"
Izuku thought for a moment. Back in the day, when he was young, all of his friends had wanted to play at being superheroes. All of them had their own moves that they'd made up, mostly ludicrous. But that had been before they'd gotten their Quirks and had to make up ideas more based in reality. Izuku chose not to investigate the memory of declaring that he'd be just like All Might, Detroit Smashing every bad guy.
"I was thinking that I'd just say 'Bullet' really loudly," he said instead, "And then shoot my guns at people. I feel like it's got a good rhythm to it."
"You're as bad as Aizawa."
"Now that's just mean, ribbit."
"Thank you, Tsuyu," Izuku said, "It's nice to know that one of my friends wouldn't betray me like that."
Mina and Kirishima both laughed, making joking defences, but Tsuyu just smiled as they followed the class into Gym Gamma. It wasn't empty in there, with Cementoss, Ectoplasm and Midnight waiting for them. Cementoss stepped forwards.
"Sometimes," he said, "A Training Ground needs a more personal touch. And this is mine!"
The blocky teacher pressed both hands to the ground and, in a show of power, twenty pillars erupted from the ground. Ectoplasm tilted his head back, plasma bursting from his open mouth, and a clone of him appeared on every single pillar.
"Testing supermoves against dummies is fine for amateurs," Aizawa said, "But if you really want to know how it works, a moving target is best. And these ones won't just stand by and let you hit them."
"So you'll have to go all out!" All Might declared, giving them a massive thumbs up, "Well? What are you waiting for? Get to it!"
Oh boy. The class, lifted up by the encouragement of All Might, broke apart and charged forwards, each rushing at a pillar and an Ectoplasm clone. Izuku followed although a little more sedately, mind working furiously as he tried to come up with a supermove that would actually fit and, if he was honest, not seem like he was taking the piss. The pillars weren't the easiest thing to scale either, but they had plenty of edges and cliffs and it didn't take long before Izuku was at the top of one, facing down his very own Ectoplasm. The clone bowed his head.
"Mr Midoriya," he said, "Good to see another helmet wearer."
"Nice to see you too, sir. Outside of class I mean."
Oh, wait. They still were in class. Ectoplasm seemed to know what Izuku meant, and inclined his head.
"Well then, Mr Midoriya. Do you know what you're going to do? A lot of students don't, you know. Be careful when looking at your classmates for inspiration, however."
As though to demonstrate Ectoplasm tapped one of his prosthetic legs against the ground. Izuku nodded.
"I have a few ideas, sir," he said, "But I don't know if I can make any of them work."
Izuku turned away from the Ectoplasm clone, although not the whole way. It wasn't easy to keep Ectoplasm in his peripheral vision while wearing his helmet, but he just about managed. Just as he'd expected, the moment he seemed to be looking at all of his classmates the clone moved, a foot sweeping towards his head. Izuku ducked under it and backed up, past the clone, bringing it back into his obvious line of sight and getting a nod from it.
"A supermove," Ectoplasm said, "Can be one of your regular moves taken to the next level. There's nothing wrong with that. Even if you want to call your move 'bulletstorm' and simply rapid-fire, there is precedent. Snipe has a supermove that he calls 'High Noon', where he simply shoots both revolvers as quickly as possible.
Snipe, Izuku thought, might lean a little too much into the cowboy theme. Ectoplasm lunged forwards again, pressing Izuku back with a series of sweeping kicks. They were clearly telegraphed, not meant to hurt. Just enough to put him under pressure, make him think. Izuku appreciated it.
"I did think about it, sir," Izuku said, leaning away from one kick and parrying the next with his elbow, "But, say, throwing a handful of shuriken at someone and calling it something like Gotham Stars just doesn't feel right."
"And that's reasonable as well," Ectoplasm agreed, "It also makes sense for a supermove to cover a gap in your skills that your regular skills don't, like my Giant Clone. It trades outnumbering the enemy for pure brute strength, which I normally lack."
Which was great and all, but Izuku didn't have a Quirk. He was going to have to use something else for a supermove. He did have an idea, but making it work…well, that was what this was for.
"Hatsume was talking about hologram drones," Izuku said, still backing away from Ectoplasm and planning, "That could be a supermove. If I drop some smoke pellets and use the drones to make it look like I've gone in multiple directions, I can make a sneak attack from the smoke."
"Good," Ectoplasm said, "Very good. It uses your skills and it's not easily countered, because you don't need to remain in the smoke rather than taking the place of one of the holograms. It's risky. Do you have the drones? And a name?"
Izuku shook his head.
"Hatsume is still on enforced rest," he said, "Apparently spending four days straight inventing leads to quite the crash. But as a name? I don't know, really."
"Hmm," Ectoplasm said, still pressing Izuku, "Smoke Clone? That's more of a ninja thing, really. Four Hoods? No, I don't think so. Red Army?"
Izuku hummed, batting away another kick with his prosthetic and continuing to retreat, drawing Ectoplasm further in.
"I was thinking less descriptive, sir. Cloud Rush, or something like that. Something confusing."
Ectoplasm mumbled something – Izuku was fairly sure that it was some variation on 'Just like Aizawa' which, rude. Izuku was a fully functioning person – no, the prosthetic, he was like ninety-percent a functioning person – who got enough sleep almost every day of the week. Being compared to Aizawa was honestly quite painful.
And what was worse was that people kept doing it – first Mina and Kirishima and now Ectoplasm? He looked nothing like Aizawa! Izuku resolutely ignored the suggestion in the back of his mind that the comparisons weren't being made because of how he looked in favour of continuing to engage Ectoplasm. He took the initiative back with a sudden forwards push, still using just fists and feet, and forced Ectoplasm back a couple of steps.
"I think I've got something, sir," Izuku said with the briefest glance behind himself, checking the terrain that Cementoss continued to raise, "But you'll have to catch me to see it."
"Lead the chase, then," Ectoplasm said, lunging forwards. Izuku, taking the words to heart, turned and ran.
Ectoplasm was after him in an instant, pounding across the lifted concrete, but he wasn't Aizawa: Ectoplasm was fast, but Izuku was just as quick. Hit the edge, jump to the next pillar, across that, slide down and jump and duck under the kick of a second clone, calling an apology to Kirishima over his shoulder as he sprinted across the next pillar. Ectoplasm landed close behind, Izuku could hear him, but he'd done it: this pillar, lower, was perfect. Izuku hit the edge of the pillar and jumped into thin air, imagining the wind on his face.
Izuku turned and twisted in the air, turning over to see Ectoplasm leap after him. A grin spread across Izuku's face and he let both grenades fly, drawing his pistols, freshly loaded with concussion rounds.
"This one I call Airburst!" he called across, and relished the way Ectoplasm's eyes widened as he fired both bullets at the grenades. The explosion wasn't what it would have been if the grenades had been left alone but the accuracy was more than worth it and Ectoplasm's clone vanished into a ball of rapidly expanding foam. Izuku twisted again, landed in a smooth roll and ended it back on his feet, grinning. Just in the corner of his vision he saw Bakugo land – what he said Izuku could hear, but from reading his lips Izuku could guess.
'Style stealing prick,' Bakugo had said. Izuku decided to take it as a compliment.
"I think I can call that a supermove, right?" Izuku called as the Ectoplasm clone glowed and melted away. Aizawa, standing close by with All Might, wrinkled his nose.
"Absolutely superb, Young Midoriya!" All Might boomed, "Marrying your parkour skill and your accuracy in order to devise an attack that cannot be dodged, exactly what I would want to see!"
"Too risky," Aizawa said curtly, "Too dependent on your equipment and your terrain. Limited in function."
Izuku, used to his teacher, just looked at him. Aizawa looked across at the pile of foam and shook his head.
"But effective in the right situation," he conceded, "I hope you have more than that to offer. And the rest of you. Shouldn't you be working, too?"
The class hurriedly went back to what they were doing as Aizawa walked across to Izuku.
"You have a way to get rid of that?" he asked, jerking a thumb at the foam. Izuku sprayed it with the correct solution, watching it break down, and Aizawa nodded.
"Good enough," he said, "Just like your 'Airburst' is. I hope you have another move in mind as well."
Izuku pulled a face, glad that Aizawa couldn't see behind him helmet. Aizawa probably knew anyway, given the way he rolled his eyes, but he didn't say anything else.
"Get back to work, then," Aizawa said, "No time to waste."
Izuku hadn't managed to come up with another supermove in the limited time he had. Really, he wasn't sure what he could do. It wasn't like his general arsenal was limited, was it? Maybe his thinking was limited, but Izuku just…well. He still thought that 'Bulletstorm' would be a good move. Kirishima had come up with an interesting idea for a combined supermove for them, though, so Izuku was practicing in the hopes of getting to use it someday. But not today: today he had a man to meet.
Or a woman. Izuku wasn't sure who the Humarise recruiter would be, and he honestly didn't care. They'd wanted to speak to him about Akatani Mikumo, so Izuku would be going in carefully – while the odds of him getting kidnapped again were slim, they were never zero.
"Remember," Aizawa growled, "If they ask about Akatani, you couldn't find him. It's a big school and you didn't have time. We should have covered up your arm to cut out that similarity."
Izuku refrained from pointing out that they hadn't had the faintest idea that he'd be infiltrating multiple groups when he'd lost his arm. They could have covered up his arm as Akatani, he supposed, but it would have been too easy to give away when the injury was still fresh.
"A little too late for that now, Aizawa," Nedzu commented, "You have your escape route ready, Mr Midoriya?"
He did, as it happened. The MLA hadn't realised the connection between Akatani Mikumo and Izuku Midoriya, but they didn't know Izuku Midoriya like Humarise might. Izuku suspected that Nedzu was trying to find someone else to take Izuku's place in infiltration, but it had been purest luck that had gotten Izuku in and replicating that wasn't going to be easy.
"The escape plan, Midoriya," Aizawa prompted when he took a few seconds too long to reply. Izuku looked over at him.
"The kitchen in the café has a back door that leads directly into an alleyway," he said, "That leads into multiple other alleyways. I can take any of those and stay on the ground, or I can go for the rooftops. If I can't get through the kitchen doors, I can go out the front door – the front wall of the café has a large window that I can break, if the door is blocked. Once I'm out I can blend into the crowd or go up, again. Once I'm on the rooftops I'll be easy to spot for any nearby Heroes."
"And I've made sure that Edgeshot is in the area," Nedzu said, "So you'll have some quick and deniable help present. I can't imagine they'll attack you, though. Getting a Quirkless Hero student on-board would be quite the coup, in terms of propaganda."
Aizawa grumbled something unintelligible under his breath but nodded, accepting the escape plan.
"Good enough," he said, speaking more loudly again, "You'll have to take a train or a bus, if we're going to make it definitely look like you're doing this on your own. You'll have to leave soon, in case there are delays."
Aizawa, the worrywart. He had a point, though, so Izuku just nodded and turned around, checking that the hoody he was wearing properly covered up the tiny microphone hidden in the collar. He couldn't see anything, even knowing it was there, so he nodded in satisfaction and set off. There weren't any delays, in the end, so Izuku arrived almost twenty minutes before the allotted meeting time. That was fine. There were some things that he wanted to do.
One of the good things about doing this as Izuku Midoriya rather than Akatani Mikumo was that he could actually take his time and scope out the situation without looking too knowledgeable. Akatani Mikumo was supposed to be an amateur, getting by on luck and paranoia as much as possible. Izuku Midoriya was a Hero student who'd already been involved in at least two life-threatening situations: it was far more believable that he'd know how to properly assess a location. He therefore had no shame in making sure that the alleyway to the rear of the café was nice and clear and that he knew the way away if he had to escape through the front. He was a little more circumspect about checking sightlines and possible sniper locations, but he still did it. All clear, except for a couple of people lingering about who gave him bad vibes.
Not an assassination, then, and probably not a kidnapping attempt. Izuku could live with that. Hopefully. Izuku took one last glance around and then, pulling down the hood of his hoody, walked into the café. It wasn't bustling but it wasn't empty either, just enough people in that it wouldn't look strange for him to be meeting with his contact, whoever that was. Izuku bought a coffee and found a quiet corner table where he could watch all the doors. Paranoia, yes, but well deserved. Especially because these people knew where he lived. He tapped a finger against the table, flesh against plastic, and sipped his drink. He didn't particularly like coffee, he'd picked it mostly because if he had to bail and leave his drink behind he didn't want to regret it, but this was a nice cup. He'd only been in the café for a few minutes when a tall blonde man walked in, glancing around. Izuku saw the way the man paused when he saw Izuku and knew that was his contact.
"Everybody wants to play spy," he said, lips not even moving as he voiced the thought in an undertone, "But they just aren't very good at it."
He didn't have any earpiece that would let him hear what Nedzu or Aizawa said in response, but he couldn't imagine it was anything complimentary. Izuku scanned the room as subtly as possible and saw another man, this one a blocky man tucked behind a tablet. Izuku imagined him with a dark suit, earpiece in, gun and his side and smiled faintly. Secret agent. Now, who else could be spying on the meeting? Jason would have followed the second man home and beaten some answers out of him, but Izuku might have to be a bit more subtle. He should have brought some trackers.
The man from before came over, a cup clutched in both hands, and smiled at Izuku.
"Izuku Midoriya?" he asked. Izuku nodded to him, gesturing to the seat opposite.
"That's me," he said. Now that he looked more closely he guessed that the man was probably half Japanese, half Northern European – wasn't Humarise's home country in northern Europe? Izuku wasn't sure, but he thought so.
"Karl Knutesson," the man said, still smiling as he extended a hand. Izuku took it, looking the man in his grey eyes.
"I didn't know we were using false names," he said, and the man laughed.
"My name is Karl, but not Knutesson," he said, "But I hardly ever get the chance to play the spy! I wanted to indulge. Can you blame me?"
Izuku looked this man in the eyes, seeing reflected there the image of the person he might have been, in another life, and smiled.
"Nice to meet you, Karl," he said, and hoped that he'd end up meaning it.