The smell was the first thing that stuck.
It wasn't just blood anymore. It was the sharp, stinging scent of chlorine bleach mixed with the earthy, expensive aroma of ground coffee beans.
Scrub. Scrub. Scrub.
The sound was wet.
Koichi Haimawari was on his hands and knees.
His gray hoodie was tied around his waist, his t-shirt soaked with sweat that made the fabric cling to his shoulder blades.
He pushed the microfiber cloth against the white tiles, putting his entire terrified weight into the motion.
"Is... is it coming out?" Pop Step whispered.
She was huddled near the kitchen island, her knees pulled to her chest. She looked small.
Her pink idol costume was torn at the shoulder, the fabric stained with soot and grime from the factory floor.
She wasn't looking at Koichi. She was staring at Knuckleduster's chest, watching the shallow rise and fall of the bandages.
"Yeah," Koichi grunted. He dipped the cloth into the bucket. The water turned a pale, sickly pink. "It's coming out. The floor is... smooth. Nothing sticks to it."
"Keep your voice down," Pop hissed. She glanced toward the armchair. "He's reading."
Kaito Arisaka sat in the leather armchair. One leg crossed over the other.
He held a tablet in his right hand. He didn't look up.
Koichi scrubbed harder.
He expected the floor to be cold—that biting, winter chill that seeped into the bones in every other apartment in Naruhata.
But it wasn't.
It was warm.
A gentle, radiating heat seeped through the knees of his track pants. It felt... expensive.
"The floor," Koichi muttered, pausing to wipe sweat from his forehead with the back of his wrist. "Pop, the floor is heating up."
"What?" Pop whispered back.
"It's warm. Like a kotatsu."
"It is radiant polymer heating," Kaito said.
He didn't lower the tablet. He didn't look at them. He swiped a finger across the screen, turning a page.
"It keeps the ambient moisture low. It prevents mold growth in the corners. And you missed a spot near the grout line"
Koichi jumped. "I got it!"
He scrambled to the spot.
Scrub. Scrub.
-----
Makoto Tsukauchi wasn't looking at the floor.
She was standing by the brushed-steel kitchen.
Her hands were jammed deep into her pockets, but her eyes were moving.
Scanning.
She looked at the coffee machine. Chrome. Italian. Probably cost more than her car.
She looked at the air purifier. Industrial grade.
Then she looked at the metal surgical tray sitting on the counter.
The blood in the tray had started to congeal, turning into a dark, sticky jelly.
Sitting in the center of the red mess was the bone shard.
It was white. Stark white. Jagged.
Makoto walked over. Her boots made a soft thud on the polymer.
"Hey," she said, her voice low. She looked at Koichi, then at the tray. "You guys okay?"
Koichi looked up, breathless. "Yeah. Just... cleaning. We have to clean it."
"He saved him," Pop Step murmured, her voice trembling. "He actually saved him. I thought... when I saw the hole..."
She choked on the words. She buried her face in her knees again.
Makoto reached out and squeezed Pop's shoulder. "Breathe, girl. He's alive. That's what matters."
While Pop sobbed quietly, Makoto turned her attention back to the tray.
She reached out. She grabbed a pair of tweezers from the pile of used instruments.
She picked up the shard.
It was heavy. Dense. Part of a rib? No. It looked like calcified cartilage. Or maybe the bullet itself.
She held it up to the light of the kitchen pendant.
'Smooth,' she thought. Her eyes narrowed.
There were no scratch marks. No serrations from the clamps.
If Kaito had pulled this out of a beating heart with a pair of steel pliers, the bone should be chipped. It should be crushed at the grip point.
This was pristine.
She glanced at him.
Kaito took a sip of his coffee. He grimaced slightly, probably because it had cooled down by two degrees.
'Who are you?' Makoto thought. 'You operate like a miracle surgeon, live like a millionaire in a slum, and extract shrapnel without harming the ribs.'
She lowered the tweezers.
She grabbed a napkin from the holder.
A quick, fluid motion. She dropped the shard into the paper, folded it tight, and shoved it into her coat pocket.
"Arisaka-san," Makoto said.
Kaito didn't look up. "The bucket is full. Dump it in the utility sink. Not the kitchen sink."
"I have a question," Makoto pressed. She leaned against the counter, crossing her arms.
"That's a Model-4 hemostat. And those sutures? That's military-grade synthetic polymer. You don't buy that at the drug store."
Koichi froze. He looked between Makoto and Kaito. "Military?"
"I work for Captain Celebrity," Kaito said.
He finally lowered the tablet.
He looked at Makoto over the rim of his glasses.
"CC Corp?" Makoto asked. "The American agency?"
"Logistics," Kaito said. He rubbed his temple.
"Christopher orders equipment by the crate because he likes the way the boxes look in the warehouse. He uses trauma kits as props for photo shoots. Once the seal is broken, they can't be used in hospitals. Legal liability."
He gestured vaguely to the cabinet with his coffee cup.
"It's a waste. I bring the surplus home. It's better than letting it rot in a landfill in Chiba."
Makoto stared at him. 'Surplus.'
It was a plausible and disappointing answer.
"So you just happen to have a fully stocked trauma center next to your espresso machine because your boss is a hoarder," Makoto said.
"It is a perk of the job," Kaito replied. He went back to reading. "Some people steal office supplies. I take expired gauze. It came in handy tonight, didn't it?"
Makoto frowned.
Technically true. He did work for a shell company that worked with CC Corp.
"Fine," Makoto said. She stepped back. "I guess that makes sense. For a logistics guy."
-----
SQUEAK.
Koichi stood up. He wiped his hands on his pants. "Arisaka-san! I'm done! The floor... I think it's cleaner than when we started!"
Kaito placed the tablet on the side table. He stood up.
Kaito walked over. He looked at the floor.
"It's ok," Kaito noted. "You used too much water on the second pass. It took longer to dry."
"Sorry!" Koichi bowed. "I'll do better next time!"
Koichi straightened up. He looked at the high-end appliances.
He looked at the expensive sutures in the trash. He swallowed hard.
"Um... Arisaka-san. About the payment."
The room went quiet. Pop Step looked up. Makoto watched closely.
"I know... I know surgery is expensive," Koichi stammered. He patted his pockets, which were empty. "And the supplies... Makoto-san said they were military grade. I... I can set up a payment plan! I work at the convenience store! And if I pick up night shifts at the construction site..."
Kaito stared at him.
He looked at the boy's trembling hands. He looked at the cheap, worn-out sneakers.
"Stop," Kaito said.
"I can pay!" Koichi insisted. "I promise! It might take a few years, but—"
"You can't pay," Kaito cut him off. His voice wasn't angry. It was just factual. "The sutures alone cost more than you make in six months. Setting up a payment plan for pennies would cost me more in energy than the debt is worth."
Koichi's face crumbled. "But..."
"You cleaned the floor," Kaito said. He pointed a finger at the gleaming white tile. "Biohazard cleanup is a specialized service. Hiring a crew at 2:00 AM would have cost me a premium. You did the labor. The blood is gone."
Kaito turned his back on them. He walked to the cabinet.
"We are square. The transaction is balanced."
Koichi blinked. "We... we are?"
"Don't make me repeat myself," Kaito muttered.
He grabbed a large plastic bottle from the shelf. He turned and tossed it to Pop Step.
She fumbled, catching it against her chest.
"Amoxicillin," Kaito said. "High dose. One pill. Twice a day. With food. If he throws it up, make him take another one."
Pop looked at the bottle. It didn't have a label. It looked like something from a bulk supply crate.
"Thank you," she whispered. Then she paused. "Shouldn't we... take him to a doctor? Just to check?"
"No," Kaito said.
He walked to the sink to rinse his hands again.
"Hospitals are legally mandated to report gunshot wounds to the police," Kaito said over the sound of running water. "Detectives are a busy men, but I'm sure they'll find time to arrest a vigilante in the ICU."
Pop went pale. "Oh."
"Unless you want him handcuffed to a hospital bed, you handle the recovery internally," Kaito said. He turned off the tap. He dried his hands. Methodical.
"And don't mess it up. I didn't spend twenty minutes repairing that lung just for you to let it rot with an infection. It would be a waste of my work."
"We won't!" Pop promised, clutching the pills like gold. "We'll take care of him!"
"But..." Koichi stepped forward again. The guilt was eating him alive. He was vibrating with it.
"Arisaka-san! That's too generous! The cleaning took thirty minutes! The surgery... the medicine... it's not equal!"
"I can't just leave it like this!" Koichi shouted. "I have to do something! I'll clean the hallway infront of your door!"
Kaito paused. He looked at the door.
There was a smear of mud on the threshold.
The hallway outside was always covered in construction dust from the renovations. It tracked in. It ruined the air quality.
"The hallway?" Kaito asked.
"Yes!" Koichi nodded frantically. "And the stairs! The management never sends anyone to clean them! I'll do it! Every morning! Before dawn! I'll make sure there's no dust! I'll make sure you never step in mud again!"
Kaito looked at the boy. He looked at the earnest, desperate need to be useful.
"Fine," Kaito said. "Be the janitor."
"Really?"
"Yes. Just don't make noise before 7:00 AM," Kaito said. "And don't knock on my door. Just clean."
"I will! Thank you! Thank you so much!" Koichi bowed again, so low his head almost hit the floor.
RING. RING.
The phone on the coffee table buzzed. It vibrated against the glass surface. A harsh, aggressive sound.
Kaito closed his eyes. He let out a breath.
He walked over and picked it up. He hit speaker.
"What?"
"MANAGER! IT'S A DISASTER!"
The voice boomed through the apartment. It was Captain Celebrity. Even over the phone, he sounded like he was posing.
"My cape! The velvet one! It has a crease!"
Pop Step jumped. Makoto raised an eyebrow.
"The gala starts a few hours from now!" Captain Celebrity screamed. "The stylist is nowhere! I can't go out there with a wrinkled cape! The cameras have 8K resolution! They'll see the fold lines! I'll look like I slept in a laundry basket!"
Kaito rubbed his face with his free hand. He looked exhausted.
"Christopher," Kaito said.
"It's late why are you still awake? And.."
His voice was calm.
"Yeah?"
"If you don't know how to iron just fly a loop," Kaito said. "Go out over the bay. Hit Mach 1. The aerodynamic friction will generate heat. The airflow will iron the fabric."
There was a pause on the other end.
"Wait... that's genius!" Captain Celebrity shouted. "I can do a loop! The fans love loops! I'll create a sonic boom! They love sonic booms!"
"Do not create a sonic boom over a residential area," Kaito said, deadpan. "Just iron the cape. And don't call me again. I'm going to sleep."
"You're the best, Kaito! I'm gonna name my next protein shake after you!"
"It's product name is Kaito X!"
"Please don't!"
"It's going to sell we~"
CLICK.
Kaito dropped the phone back onto the table.
He looked up. The three of them were staring at him.
"What?" Kaito asked.
"Nothing," Makoto said, a small smirk touching her lips. "Just... wow. Logistics sounds stressful."
"He is a child in a brightly colored costume," Kaito muttered. "He requires constant supervision."
He gestured to the door. "The surgery is gone. I'm going to rest."
Koichi nodded. "Right! Let's go, Pop. Help me with Master."
Koichi grabbed Knuckleduster under the arms. Makoto grabbed the legs. Pop Step held the door open.
"Ready?" Koichi grunted. "One. Two. Lift."
They hoisted the old man.
He was heavy. Dense muscle and heavy bones. Koichi staggered slightly under the weight, his sneakers squeaking on the clean floor.
"Steady," Makoto warned. "Don't jostle him."
They shuffled toward the exit.
Kaito watched them.
He leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed. He watched Knuckleduster's chest.
The rhythm was good. The hitch in the breath was gone.
Kaito had cleared them. He had burned away the blockage while he was stitching the lung.
It wasn't a miracle. It was just maintenance.
Koichi paused at the door. He looked back.
"Arisaka-san. Thank you. Really. You saved him."
Kaito nod.
"Lift with your legs," Kaito said. "If you drop him and pop a stitch, don't bring him back. I'm not opening the door again tonight."
Koichi gave a tired, grateful smile. "I'll see you in the hallway tomorrow! I'll have the stairs shining!"
"Just go and rest."
They shuffled out.
Pop Step took one last look at him, clutching the bottle of pills, before following them.
The door clicked shut.
CLANG.
Kaito reached out. He turned the deadbolt.
CLICK.
He turned the second lock.
THUD.
He engaged the privacy latch.
The silence rushed back in.
The screaming of the Captain, the crying of the girl, the frantic energy of the boy... it was all cut off by three inches of reinforced steel.
Kaito stood in the hallway.
The air purifier hummed. The lemon scent was winning the war against the bleach now.
He walked to the sink.
He turned on the cold water. He put his hands under the stream again.
Kaito didn't scrub. He just let the water run over his fingers.
He stared at the drain.
'Hnn' he thought.
He turned off the water.
Kaito gripped the edge of the granite counter. He leaned his weight on it, his head bowing low.
"Haaaaa..."
He replayed the surgery in his mind. Not the blood. The anatomy.
When Kaito had bypassed the ribs, he had seen the genetic scarring around the respiratory system and the nerves connected to the brain.
It wasn't just physical damage from the bullet.
It was a void. A hollow space in the biological sequence where a Quirk factor used to be.
'Forced extraction,' Kaito thought, his eyes narrowing behind his glasses. 'The genetic roots were ripped out years ago. There is only one parasite in Japan who steals candy from babies like that.'
All For One.
Kaito grimaced. That jerk was everywhere. Even in the lungs of this old man.
'So the old guy has a strong and simple quirk?' Kaito thought. He pushed himself off the counter.
"When All For One used his quirk, he doesn't just take it. He rips out the active engine of the Quirk Factor, in simple terms the power source is gone."
Kaito pushed himself off the counter. He looked at the coffee machine. He should order more beans.
"Even after the power is gone, the DNA contains "scars" or information where the Quirk Factor used to be. I just regenerated it and make it fill the void again."
Then.
Kaito should check the stock market. He should write a report on the medical supply usage.
"Let that old man figure it out himself" Kaito whispered.
He walked to the living room.
Kaito turned off the lights. He didn't take off his shoes.
He reached the Italian leather sofa and simply fell forward.
THUMP.
"It's been a hectic day and I'm tired," Kaito mumbled into the leather.
-----
Location: Unit 202 – The "Crawler's" Nest
The door to Unit 202 didn't have a heavy steel deadbolt. It had a cheap chain lock that rattled when Koichi kicked the door shut.
"Watch his head!" Pop Step whispered frantically.
"I got him, I got him," Koichi grunted.
They lowered Knuckleduster onto the stained futon.
The old man let out a low, rattling groan, but his chest—now wrapped in Kaito's expensive military gauze—rose and fell with a steady rhythm.
Koichi collapsed backward, sitting on the tatami mats.
He wiped the sweat from his eyes. His hands were shaking now. The adrenaline was fading, leaving only the terror of the night.
He looked up.
Makoto Tsukauchi was standing in his entryway.
She hadn't left. She was leaning against the doorframe, holding the plastic baggie with the bone shard in one hand and her phone in the other.
Koichi flinched. "Please... don't call the police. I know we broke the law using Quirks, but he was dying, and—"
"Relax, Crawler," Makoto said. She tucked her phone away. "If I wanted to arrest you, I would have called my brother ten minutes ago."
Pop Step blinked, wiping soot from her face.
"Your brother?"
"Detective Tsukauchi. Naomasa," Makoto said casually. She stepped into the room, stepping over a pile of All Might comics. "He's the one with the badge. I'm the one with the camera."
"Then... who are you?" Koichi asked. "Why are you here? In this building?"
Makoto smiled. It wasn't a nice smile. It was the hungry smile of a cat that had found a very interesting mouse.
"I'm a researcher," Makoto said. "I study the grey zones. The cracks in the superhuman society where the 'Heroes' don't go."
She pulled a crumpled photograph from her trench coat pocket. She tossed it onto Koichi's lap.
Koichi looked at it.
It was a blurry, high-speed shot taken. It showed a figure in a hoodie sliding across the pavement on all fours.
And in the corner of the frame, partially obscured by shadows, was the masked face of Stendhal.
"That fight," Makoto said, pointing at the photo.
"The Crawler. The Hopper. And the crazy old man."
"You two took on a serial killer that the Pros couldn't catch."
"We... we just fought briefly," Koichi stammered.
"Exactly," Makoto said. Her eyes lit up. "That's the fascination. Years ago, Hero X appeared. He wasn't licensed. He wasn't sanctioned. But he did the job. He changed the public perception of what a 'Vigilantism' actually is. He proved that a license doesn't make you a savior."
She gestured around the messy, cheap apartment.
"And now, I find you guys. The Naruhata Vigilantes. Living in the same dirt, fighting the same fights."
She walked over and looked down at Knuckleduster.
"I moved into Unit 205 because I want to see it," Makoto said softly. "I want to document the truth. The law says you're criminals. But tonight? I saw a salaryman perform a miracle surgery and a college kid scrub blood off a floor to pay for it."
She looked at Koichi.
"That's not crime, Koichi-kun. That's a story. And I'm going to be the one to write it in my thesis"
Pop Step frowned, shielding Koichi slightly. "Are you going to expose us?"
"No," Makoto said. She tapped her nose. "I'm going to observe."
"So what really happened today? Why are you three injured? Did you meet dangerous trigger-enhanced villains or something?"
Koichi leaned back against the wall, his breath hitching. "It was the factory. We went in looking for the source of the drug, but it was a trap. There was a woman—Kuin—she had these... bees. Mechanical swarms that moved like a single mind. Master said she was his daughter. And then he showed up."
"Number 6," Pop Step whispered, her voice trembling as she clutched a damp towel. "He was terrifying. He didn't move like a person. He moved like... like a glitch in a video. He was everywhere at once. He laughed while he did it"
"He looked like he was made of skeletal plates," Koichi continued, his eyes hollow. "He grew these muzzles out of his arms—made of bone. He fired at me. Master... Master didn't even hesitate. He just threw himself in front of the shot. The sound it made when it hit him... it wasn't a bullet. It was a thunderclap. It tore right through him."
Koichi looked at his blood-stained palms. "If we hadn't made it back to these hallways—if Arisaka-san hadn't opened that door..."
"He'd be dead," Makoto finished, looking toward the wall shared with Unit 203. "The guy next door just performed an impossible surgery on a vigilante while complaining about his flooring. And you're telling me he's just a 'logistics manager'?"
She looked at the bone shard in the baggie.
"Something is shifting in Naruhata," Makoto murmured. "And I think our neighbor is one hell of a mysterious guy."
"I trusted my instincts and my quirk, of course," Makoto murmured.
"Polygraph. It's not just about lies; it's about the truth behind the vibration of a person's pulse."
Koichi sat up a little straighter, rubbing his sore neck.
The mention of a Quirk—especially one as invasive as a lie detector—made him feel exposed.
But there was no malice in Makoto's voice.
"I guess... if we're going to be neighbors, we should probably do this right," Koichi said, his voice regaining some of its steady, polite warmth. "I'm Koichi Haimawari. I'm a student at the local college, though I spend most of my time doing... this. My Quirk is Slide and Glide."
He placed a hand on the tatami mat. A faint, blue shimmer sparkled beneath his palm. "I can move over any surface as long as I have three points of contact. I'm supposed to be a 'peaceful' user, but things haven't been very peaceful lately."
Pop Step shifted, pulling her torn idol cloak tighter around her shoulders. "I'm Kazuho Haneyama. Most people know me as Pop Step. My Quirk is Leap. I can jump to incredible heights, but I can't fly. I'm usually the one who handles the 'Eye in the Sky' work and... well, the music."
She looked over at the futon, her expression softening into a mix of reverence and grief.
"And that's our Master. Takeshi Kuroiwa. But the streets call him Knuckleduster."
[A/n: Knuckleduster never told his past to anyone. So the duo just know his pseudo-name he gave]
Makoto leaned in, her eyes scanning the bruised, scarred man. "Knuckleduster. The Quirkless Vigilante. I've heard the rumors. They say he fights with nothing but brass knuckles and a terrifying amount of stubbornness."
"He's more than that," Koichi said fiercely.
"He's the one who taught us that you don't need a license to do what's right."
Makoto's pen scratched furiously against a small notepad she had produced from her coat. "A Quirkless man and two others taking on the Trigger syndicate. It's insane. It's suicide."
"It nearly was," Pop Step whispered.
Makoto looked back toward the wall of Unit 203.
She could almost hear the silence of Kaito Arisaka's room through the thin plaster. "And then there's him. Your savior. Arisaka Kaito."
"He's a new guy rented room 203," Koichi said, though his voice sounded unsure even to himself.
"He's a professional manager or something. He works in a Corp. He's just... really good at logistics and surgery?"
Makoto let out a short, sharp laugh that held no humor. "Koichi-kun, I've seen some of the best surgeons in the country. None of them could have done what he just did in a kitchen without a single drop of sweat or a moment of hesitation. He didn't just 'repair' your Master. He operated with a level of precision that felt... preordained."
She stood up, pocketing her notes. The bone shard clinked against her phone in her pocket.
"Get some sleep, Naruhata Vigilantes,"
She stepped out into the hallway, leaving Koichi and Pop Step to watch over the steady, rhythmic breathing of a man who should have been dead.
_-_-_-_-_
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(9 Advanced Chapters)