Slayer Anderson
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Mind Games - Chapter 33
🕑 Added 2025-07-31 11:10:20 +0000 UTCThe only person in the entire agency Endeavor would tolerate rudeness from was...
Well, okay, there were technically two. His former UA classmate Kenji was one of them. The second, though, was his daughter.
Which was the primary reason he simply leaned back and gave her an unimpressed stare as she slapped down a thick folder of information on his desk.
“There are psychic elements to her quirk.”
Enji hummed as he picked up the folder and began to skim.
He paused almost immediately on the first page.
“Her IQ is a Code Seven, just like Bootstrap's,” Enji noted, then furrowed his eyebrows as he read on. “She has the same gift for languages?”
“She requires a subject's blood in order to understand them, but yes. It's not as versatile as Hitoshi's when taken alone, but...” Fuyumi trailed off meaningfully.
“In the greater context of her quirk as a whole, it's far more impressive in many ways,” Enji murmured, flipping pages in the report. “In retrospect, it's not all that surprising though. What kind of infiltrator wouldn't be able to speak the language of the person they've taken the appearance of? Her ability to read emotional states from exposure to an individual's blood...”
“It needs to be fresh – or close to it,” Fuyumi stipulated as she turned to begin pacing. “They tried giving her filtered plasma and while it seems to provide basic nutrition, it's the equivalent of asking someone to live off tasteless porridge and vitamins. It can be done, but the negative psychological and physiological effects are obvious.”
“...and her heightened senses,” Enji frowned, tapping a finger against his desk thoughtfully. “She's effectively able to track someone by scent, can mimic vocal and physical tics, and her physicality is exceptional even at what they're calling her 'baseline' readings.”
“She was asked to abstain from any form of blood for at least three days prior to the testing and then allowed to have basic plasma as well as blood from several volunteer lab technicians to evaluate her shape-shifting,” Fuyumi sighed and rubbed at her face. “She's one of the vanishingly-few mass-correcting transformation quirks we have on record, Dad. It took barely a half-hour after her file hit the classified database before I was getting calls from intelligence agencies-”
“Refuse them and, if they persist, tell them to call me,” Enji nearly growled, the temperature in the room spiking as he grit his teeth. “Gods-damned vultures – these aren't the Dark Ages anymore! They can at least wait until these kids finish high school!”
He slammed a fist down on his reinforced desk.
“Did Lady Nagant teach them nothing?!”
Hot Ice sighed, shaking her head. “I was honestly surprised we didn't get more people asking for Hitoshi's – Bootstrap's – contract when we filed his updated registry.”
Endeavor scowled, taking a deep breath before pulling a bottle of water from the mini-fridge behind his desk and taking a long pull from it. “The boy's quirk has a more obvious use in diplomatic subterfuge. The people looking for those quirks have a more staid and patient mentality. The deeper intelligence agencies operate on more urgent timelines and are quicker to snap up talent.”
“Is there anything we can do about this in the long-term?” Fuyumi asked, shifting the topic as she considered it from more angles.
“Getting them into UA will be the best defense,” Enji grumbled. “Nezu won't allow anyone from those groups to poach a student and the contract I gave the Toga parents is as iron-clad as we could create. Even if they wanted to, they couldn't back out of it and she'll effectively be an adult in two years anyway. At that point, the matter will be primarily up to her if she wants to pursue that line of work.”
“Unless Hitoshi decides to go down that route, I don't think it's very likely Himiko will choose it of her own volition,” Fuyumi stated.
“Oh?” Her father asked, looking down at the documents in his hands again and flipping through them. “Ah...”
“Her psych evaluation came back clean,” Fuyumi summarized. “Too clean, in fact, if what Hitoshi has said about her parents is-”
“He's correct in his assessment,” Enji cut his daughter off, not meeting her eyes as he studied the files. “I met with them to sign the final contract for her subsidized housing, employment, and studies at UA. They made my skin crawl. Reminded me too much of-”
Fuyumi waited a moment, cocking her head as she stared at her father, who took another long pull of cold water. “Of?”
“Nothing,” Enji grunted at the prompt. “Nothing important, at least. But reading between the lines of the team's assessment, I think I agree with them. She's too smart for the tests.”
“Just like Hitoshi,” Fuyumi nodded.
Endeavor made a vague noise of agreement and nodded, leaning back in his chair as he stared off into the middle distance. “The only real data point worth mentioning is her dependency on Hitoshi. Do you see that as being a problem, Fuyumi? Either in their professional or private lives? They strike me as mature beyond their years, even if the Toga girl is a bit too playful about it at times, but they are still teenagers. Relationships and romance at that age can be... turbulent at the best of times.”
“According to Himiko, the only real point of tension in their relationship is Hitoshi wanting her to express more of an opinion on her own wants and desires,” Fuyumi stated somewhat dryly.
Enji snorted. “A bit of a strange dynamic, but if they do sour... well, it's not as though the agency isn't big enough to put them on separate sides of the building or something.”
“And it will also give you the chance to set Hitoshi up with Shoko,” Fuyumi noted, her tone far too casual.
Enji coughed and looked away. “It's the duty of every father to see their daughters' life goals accomplished and Shoko... she's made it clear that she wants a husband some day.”
Fuyumi hummed, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms. “I also stacked the results from Hitoshi's hero examination in there.”
“He passed,” her father replied bluntly, not taking his eyes off Himiko's quirk evaluation.
“That confident?” Fuyumi huffed a laugh. “I'll be sure to let him know.”
“The test for that rear-echelon heroism is grueling, tedious, mind-numbing, and requires the analytic skills of a professional bureaucrat,” Endeavor summarized succinctly. “It is not, however, difficult beyond those qualifications. In fact, I think most of the top ten percent of any high school class could, with a bit of study and preparation, take the exam and pass it.”
Fuyumi frowned, her brows furrowing. “Why don't they, then? Plenty of kids have aspirations of being a hero.”
“Children want to beat up villains,” Endeavor refuted, glancing up at his daughter. “They want to use their quirks in public and engage in running battles across rooftops. They want to be invited onto talk shows and have plastic models of themselves sold at toy stores.”
“Right... and being stuck in an office all day going over ten year old financial reports isn't very in service to that,” Hot Ice sighed.
“There are other reasons,” Endeavor grunted, flipping a page in the document he was holding. “Beyond the lack of glamour, it's a niche industry to break into and one that needs contacts or a powerful patron to support you in the first few years. There are civilian firms which have licenses to do most of what 'Office Heroes' do, which further hurts their prospects. Add onto the fact that there are – at best – five independent agencies run by this class of licensed hero in the entire country, which means there's little, if any, room for advancement. The most important factor, though, is the lack of respect from most professional heroes.”
Fuyumi scowled and looked away from her father. “I... can see why, even if I'd like to pretend otherwise. Not being active in the field makes it seem like you're not contributing substantially to the occupation as a whole, even if the work you do is important and valuable.”
Endeavor nodded absently, humming under his breath. “That's why the majority of Office Heroes work directly for the Commission itself and offer their services as contract-employees to various agencies when necessary. Even our agency usually goes that route due to the relative scarcity of talented individuals who pursue this career path.”
…
“I expedited the toxicology, it just came back.”
Toshinori looked up from the screen where the information on the Shie Hassaikai was displayed, turning to regard Detective Tsukauchi Naomasa. More specifically, he took notice of the concerned expression on the man's face. “Something worse than we thought? Permanent damage?”
Naomasa shook his head, but he remained frowning as he dropped a manila folder on the skeletal blonde's desk. “Nothing like that. It's just that the department is familiar with this mix. It's a specialty date-rape drug created by a small-time villain with a chemical synthesis quirk operating out of Chiyoda. The stuff he makes is custom-crafted for people with more robust immune systems that could fight off the normal types of drugs circulating with average scum.”
“That's... unfortunate,” Toshinori stated, gritting his teeth slightly. “If our vigilante contact is dealing with a man like that-”
Naomasa shook his head. “No, that's the thing. He was beaten to within an inch of his life and dropped off in front of a police station last week. Police found a note on him detailing where he lived, but they barely recovered any finished product or cash and his bank accounts had been emptied as well. They'd thought he got busted in the middle of making a new batch, but now...”
The civilian guise of the most powerful hero in the country leaned back, taking the revelation thoughtfully. “So this...” He glanced at the notes. “Perspicacious Mauve Avenger. She takes down a roofie dealer specifically to loot his supplies and funds, then uses the product she stole to drug a villain's drink while he's in a bar with two cops and All Might's secretary.”
“More like she drugged the ingredients used to make the cocktail,” Naomasa corrected tiredly, pulling his coat off and hanging it up near the door to the expansive apartment at the top of Might Tower. “It was a tinary compound – it had to be mixed with all three parts of the drug. Even just two of the three wouldn't do anything. The bartender had no idea what he was doing-”
“So he couldn't give the game away,” Toshinori hummed, rubbing at his chin. “You asked him with our quirk?”
Naomasa nodded. “That was my thought, too. The bartender thought he was just setting up some kind of odd date night or something. Maybe arranging an illegal business deal with a special signal. He had no idea the stuff behind the counter had been tampered with. Whoever this is, Toshi, they're extremely competent.”
“What I want to know...” Toshinori asked slowly, his eyes tracking to the grand view of Tokyo outside his window. “...is why she bothered letting us know she was involved at all? I've seen these kinds of skills before with some of the American and Japanese covert hero teams, especially the more elaborate planning or mental-enhancement quirks. If she could pull something like this off, she could do it without us knowing about it.”
“The simplest answer would be time,” Naomasa suggested, striding over and flipping open the original data dump they'd received and held up a picture of a gray-haired girl. “Think about Nakamura. She showed up to rescue him and his kids. She went in loud and fast, broke people, and saved the victims.”
“I'll admit that it's heartening to think she's driven by concern for the child,” Toshinori stated, frowning still.
“You don't think so?” Naomasa pushed, frowning himself. “You're usually the one to think the best of people.”
“It's all these... elaborate games,” Toshinori waved a hand. “I don't like this kind of thing. Why not just approach me – or you, since she knows you're one of All Might's contacts – and be upfront with it? What does she stand to gain with all this cloak and dagger nonsense?”
“Someone could be after her,” Naomasa pointed out after a moment's thought. “If you're right and she does have a higher-end planning quirk... or something versatile enough to emulate one, then there are a lot of people who'd want to recruit her – one way or another.”
“If that's the case...” Toshinori paused, looking between the picture of the young girl 'Eri' and the picture that he'd pulled from Endeavor's files. He seldom personally made use of the pool of shared intelligence that the Top Ten had created, but on occasion it was helpful. “...what if this is a test?”
Naomasa hummed, raising an eyebrow. “You save the girl from the yakuza, then you can save her from whatever is trying to get her?”
Toshinori nodded, the set of his jaw growing more firm. “Someone operating like her... it means they lack trust in institutional heroism. That's why this is happening. She's been burned before or... for some reason, feels like she can't trust an established hero agency. So she's reaching out to All Might personally through someone he's been photographed with multiple times.”
“It's not a bad theory,” the detective nodded slowly. “So how do you want to handle the Shie Hassaikai?”
Yagi Toshinori snorted, slamming a fist into the opposite palm. The sound that resulted was many times in volume what one would have thought an emaciated figure like him was capable of. The suddenly many-times thicker muscles and foot of height attested to his strength, though. “How else, Detective? I'm going in head-on and teaching those thugs a lesson, of course! Even if we're wrong and this isn't a test of my commitment to heroism, everything we know says there's a little girl who needs a hero!”
All Might scowled, his usual smile vanishing momentarily. “That alone compels me to act!”
Despite himself Naomasa felt a shiver go up his spine as he beheld the Number One Hero in the country – some claimed the world – before Toshi relaxed his grip on his power and shrank back to his emaciated form. “Alright then, but we're going to need to go over everything we know about this Overhaul character leading them. The information about his quirk – if Ms. Avenger is correct – is daunting. You'll need to finish the fight fast and-”
Ding!
Both men blinked, turning towards Toshinori's PC. “Huh... I almost didn't expect her to reply.”
“The email address she gave Endeavor's Agency?” Naomasa asked, stepping forward quickly to lean over his friend's shoulder. “What'd she say?”
Toshinori hummed as he leaned back and stared at the text. “Since you asked for my advice, here are a few thoughts and a warning: If You Want To Protect Her, Give It Your All.”
“Cryptic,” Naomasa commented with a frown.
“It reminds me of some of the things Nighteye would say, back when we worked together,” Toshinori stated. “In fact, all of this data that's been compiled... if I didn't know any better, I would swear my old sidekick had assembled it. I'm more certain now than ever that Mauve Avenger has some kind of versatile planning quirk, possibly one with either probability-altering or precognitive components to it.”
“You don't have faith in the Endeavor team's assessment?” Naomasa probed thoughtfully.
Toshinori grimaced slightly. “I think she's deliberately deceiving them, honestly. It's not particularly their fault, I've been at the game a lot longer than they have and I trust my own gut more than a relatively inexperienced group of B-listers.”
“That's fair, now let's see what else our vigilante friend wrote-” Naomasa continued, narrowing his gaze the the enclosed text and beginning to read.
…
“Your friend Stendhal has a body count,” Sir Nighteye stated bluntly. “I can excuse your presence in the operation, but not his.”
Mirio frowned, once again confronting the truth about the man he considered something of a mentor. “Sir, he hasn't killed anyone in years-”
“No, only maimed them,” Mirai denounced the absent vigilante. “Permanent disfigurement, lost of appendages, crippling of bodily functions... more than not being able to abide his presence myself, I won't force the heroes I've assembled to tolerate his level of violence.”
Kaito Lemillion grit his teeth, trying to come up with a response that didn't involve admitting he'd been a party to some of that violence. The career of a vigilante was one of harsh choices, where one often had to decide between a potentially crippling injury and allowing a criminal to get away to harm others again. “Many of those were murderers or people who had taken civilians hostage. The injuries were necessary to-”
“Necessary for an illegal hero to handle the situation, yes,” Nighteye interrupted, glaring at the teenager. “Which is why I was against involving any of your group in the first place for this operation. Vigilantes operate outside the law and, by necessity, under different rules of engagement than accredited and licensed heroes. Being part of a joint task force such as this involves submitting yourself to an authority greater than your own judgment for the sake of a common chain of command as well as cooperation on tactics and strategy.”
“Then assign us an independent operation!” Mirio all but shouted at the stiff and unyielding man. “Stendhal and Pop Step are the only ones who were there to help me! They're the only ones who believed me wh-when Tamaki-”
Mirio took a sharp breath and turned away.
Mirai paused, heaving a silent sight as he folded his arms behind his back. The former sidekick turned professional hero did not like the situation he'd been put in, especially given it had been at the behest of another vigilante. Part of him wished he'd never picked up the phone that day a week ago.
The larger part of him knew there was nothing for it.
In the grand scheme of his career, he'd faced hurdles and annoyances much greater than being forced to work with an unpleasant, violent sword-wielding maniac. In particular was the ongoing hurdle that had become finding a successor to his mentor's power, a frustrating task that had yielded few results. All of the candidates he'd selected over the previous years had the wrong quirk, the wrong temperament, or the wrong background.
Case in point, the teenager before him.
The Phantom Thief Lemillion was something of an urban legend, frequently hitting high-profile members of society and stealing valuables. Those valuables, in turn, were often revealed to, themselves, be stolen. Or, in the process of investigating the case, damning information would come to light that the 'victim' was in fact a criminal themselves.
Often a heinous and particularly disgusting one.
He'd gained a cult following online that was threatening to transition to legitimate popularity, the politics within the Hero Commission split on how to handle him. In fact, if Nighteye could turn Lemillion from a vigilante into a professional, it would be quite the feather in his cap. And, judging by the teen's conduct in the field, he'd make an excellent hero once he sharpened up his quirk use a little bit.
It was quite clever of the boy to pass off his tendency to phase out of his own clothing as a 'magic trick,' distracting from a weakness by highlighting it and turning it into a mark of showmanship instead. That and a few well-placed smoke bombs allowed him to ride the thin line between mysterious and glamorous that marked an individual with no little talent.
But he had willingly associated with a serial killer.
Nighteye might have been willing to look the other way to reform a flashy thief with a heart of gold if it meant All Might's legacy secured behind a quirk that ensured the next hero could dodge a lethal blow no matter the circumstances.
But the stain resulting from even a passing acquaintance with someone like Stendhal would hound someone like All Might's successor. And that was if the boy was even interested in the first place. Mirai tentatively thought he might have the right attitude, but whoever this 'Tamaki' was... there was trauma there. Trauma enough that it had made the boy drag his own reputation through the mud for the sake of a single individual.
That was not enough.
Not enough to be Him.
But... not being fit to take Toshi's place wasn't a crime in and of itself. It wasn't even cause enough to truly condemn someone. Mirai felt that he, himself, did not measure up to the legacy most day, either.
So as unfit to stand as the next Symbol of Peace as Phantom Thief Lemillion might be...
“There's a task I can give to your group,” Mirai sighed, adjusting his glasses tiredly. “I'll need to know more about your capabilities, but with the information Perspicacious Mauve Avenger has forwarded me, I believe I can put you where you will do the most good.”
There was a particular section of this yakuza group – the Abegawa Tenchu Kai – that was known for its violent crimes, usually committed under the cover of 'Enforcing the Peace.'
Mirai would not be particularly bothered if some of them were to suffer permanent injuries that put them out of their line of work.
If, however, Lemillion was correct and Stendhal was turning a new – slightly less gruesome – leaf, perhaps accommodations could be made.
Perhaps.
Sasaki Mirai did have connections befitting a former sidekick of All Might, after all, and there were segments of the Japanese government and its associated apparatuses that could use a maniac who wanted to purge the world of evil. As long as the sword-wielding man wasn't a mad dog and could be reasoned with – trusted to a degree – he could find Stendhal something to do that got him off the streets and made him someone else's problem.
Especially if it removed the murder even further from association with the word 'hero.'
Calling him a vigilante, even now, was a step too far in Sir Nighteye's opinion.
“Th-thank you, Sir Nighteye,” the Phantom Thief replied, bowing deeply.
...and if this merry little band of vigilantes bungled things in such an important operation, it would give Mirai enough leverage to hand over a campaign of negative press to the Association. Which would neatly remove the problem either way.
As Lemillion explained his own abilities and that of his friends', Sasaki brushed his hand against the hero's arm and-
A flurry of images passed through his mind's eye, so oddly incoherent and strangely off-color, but the gist of it...
-the professional hero sighed.
It seemed he'd be calling in a few favors.
Thankfully, the next prospect for All Might’s successor he’d found was a far less complicated issue. If the vigilante who couldn’t be struck wasn’t an option, then he’d gladly accept the aspiring hero who could take any hit without folding.
…if only he had better taste, though. Crimson Riot, really?
…
The tarot deck was in hand once again as I stared out over the skyline.
My other hand held my phone, various markers representing trackers and tags I'd left slowly being populated across the screen.
I looked back to the deck, an instrument of divination turned into one of predestination.
As I had before, I could force a draw and snap that sign into place, twisting the weave of destiny in the direction I wanted.
I was on the other side of the city now and three days had passed as I watched the various heroes and villains move into position. I wanted to be out there, taking part in the action, but that wasn't my place. Not now, at least.
My place was in the shadows, for the moment.
I slid the tarot cards back into their case and snapped them away into my Pocket.
I closed the Mapper app on my phone and flipped back to the countdown timer I had going.
It hadn't been all that difficult sneaking into the room where the Boss lay comatose, rendered so by the boy he'd taken in and raised as his own son. Getting in hadn't been the problem. Putting the collar on hadn't been the problem, either. It was having the conversation I'd need to have, without being interrupted, that would be the problem.
I sighed, still waiting for the other shoe to drop.
For something to go wrong.
“I suppose there's nothing to do but go home and fake an illness now,” I said to myself lightly. “I'll need the day off today if I'm going to play puppet master for this mess.”
~~~
What's this? I'm early for once?
World must be ending!
Joke's aside, next chapter will be the end of The First Sidereal Scheme and I hope I can do the payoff justice.
After that, it's straight to UA! Finally! Patience has been rewarded and I hope the journey here has been a fun one so far.
Thank you again for your support, each and every one of you. Voting for the August Polls will open up later tonight.
In the interim, I think I'll be working on a surprise to post over the weekend. Not sure what it will be yet, so it'll be a surprise for me, too!
Comments
Tony Martin
>our quirk your quirk
Jumboperson
>lost of appendages Should either be 'lost appendages' or 'loss of appendages' Fun seeing all the various movements around Hitoshi. Really shows how all the characters have agency.
