Well, sir, we can't really charge him. At worst, we could charge him with obstruction of justice, but the system isn't geared towards punishing Midoriya's type. He doesn't use weapons, and he only ever retaliates in kind. Self Defense ends up covering it, though a good lawyer may be able to argue that he puts himself out there in the first place. I've looked it over, and each incident he gets involved in is one where heroes just don't make it in time. Accepting the Overhaul fiasco, of course." Tsukauchi sighs, "I'm at the end of my rope. We have the medical reports, incident reports and the proof that he was there, that he acted without guidance. But between the self-defense case and his lack of any sort of violence on his track record, I couldn't make a case."
"I know that. In the end, people acting out against villains wasn't something we could easily stop. Heroes exist to separate the civilians and the villains, in the end. His actions are those of a vigilante, quirkless or not. We will pursue them as such." Kenji says, shutting the file and laying it atop a stack of similar cases. A pen scrawls 'Patient Zero' over the front, and then the folder is left for later. Tsukauchi stiffens as Kenji folds his hands and stares at him. "As of right now, I'm taking you off of Midoriya's case. I'll handle this personally, and we'll make sure that Midoriya and these other cases are addressed as quickly as possible. Focus on the League of Villains. Our raid seems to have slowed them down, but I'm sure that you've got plenty of leads."
"Yes sir."
"Dismissed."
After the detective is gone, Kenji sighs, staring at the small bin of papers on the left side of his desk. His eyes don't linger long before they're drawn to the stack of folders before his computer. Midoriya's file sits on top, but the others are ones he's both more (and less, in some ways) familiar with. These files have been building on his desk for eight months, and he's read each of them enough to know the details by heart.
Before he can stare at them for too long, his hand reaches out and smoothly draws the phone from beside his monitor, dialing a number without too much thought. Each time the phone rings, it sends a shiver down his spine.
"Kenji-san, this is a rare occasion! To what do I owe the pleasure?" A chirp bursts from the line all at once, making him jump. His fingers dig into the bags beneath his eyes as he barely suppresses a 'woof' of shock.
"Nezu. I was hoping that things wouldn't reach this point, but I have some things I need to consult you on. We need to call a meeting."
"I see. I take it you mean one of those meetings? Should I invite Yagi-san?"
Kenji sighs, "Please. I'd like his input on this. I'm going to send you a few files. Look them over, and I'll let you know when I can get everyone together. I'll be moving on the first one soon, but the rest are a bit beyond my reach at the moment."
The call doesn't last long. Kenji has always appreciated Nezu's brevity, if only when the two of them are working together. Being in the same room as Nezu is like being the same room as a snake, and Kenji would prefer to avoid it. He doesn't seem to have a choice if things continue to evolve.
Three attacks hit U.A. during October.
Eraserhead is attacked by Stain while on patrol one weekend, leaving him nearly blinded and bleeding out in an alley. A new scar stretches across his cheekbones, just beneath his eyes, all the way from temple to temple.
One of his students is kidnapped, then murdered on broadcasted video. Shōta has expelled more students than almost anyone in U.A., excepting Nezu and someone named Gran Torino, but this is one of a very small list of incidents where a student lost their lives. The brutality shocks the media so much that no one has the heart to strike out at U.A. An entire family of five is found burnt to a crisp in their home, and when the remains are recovered every member of the squad wants to throw up or cry.
Across the city, Bakugo Katsuki is attacked by Shigaraki, Kurogiri and a girl with blonde hair named Toga. During the battle for his life, his left arm is destroyed, and the damage from Shigaraki's quirk spreads all the way to his shoulder and down that side nearly past his ribs. The bones of his shoulder barely remain, and they find a still decaying humerus at the scene.
Shōta is sitting in the room, staring at the mess of twisted flesh (the bandages cover it, but his eyes can't help seeing the photos) left where his student's arm is supposed to be when a knock at the door startles him. He glances up and for once in his life is shocked enough to gape.
A young man with black-green hair and bright green eyes stands there, dressed in shorts and a hoodie, staring wide eyed at the hospital bed. There's nothing about him that sticks out, but Shōta knows who this is. Nezu had showed him the file a few weeks ago. He calls himself Deku in public, but a hospital isn't a public place. Which means-
"Kacchan…" Midoriya whispers. Shōta closes his eyes as 'Deku' rushes to the bedside, ignoring him entirely (Shōta had tucked himself into an armchair in the corner, out of the way of the family, before he fell asleep there) as horribly intense emotions begin to spill out. For a student who Shōta believed near bereft of a social life, the experience is eye opening. Concerning, true. But… it reminds him of several 'aftermath' moments. This feels intimate.
Everyone has someone willing to cry for them.
It takes nearly a half hour before the boy calms down and sits on the edge of the bed, staring red eyed at Bakugō without a word. Shōta is a little glad. He doesn't feel like he's intruding anymore, so he pushes himself out of the chair. Midoriya doesn't move, but he hums a slight response when Shōta calls his name.
"What kind of relationship do you two have, exactly?" Shōta asks tentatively.
"Hmm…? I, um, we knew one another as kids." Midoriya mutters, voice still hoarse from his crying, "We aren't friends anymore. I haven't even spoken to him in nearly a year. But… I couldn't just…"
Shōta gets that. Mic had been impossible to turn away. He can only assume they have a similar relationship, but Bakugō is… well, he's a dick. It speaks to Midoriya's character that he showed up at all.
"The damage is extensive. I sincerely doubt that he'll be able to become a hero after this. His entire left side…"
"Sensei." Midoriya's voice cuts him off. Something about the tone sends a skittering trace of fear down Shōta's spine. The boy's eyes are as sharp as raw, shattered gemstones as he speaks, and Shōta is glad that he isn't the one the boy is looking at. "If you know Kacchan at all, you know he'll find a way. Ka-… Bakugo would never let something like this stop him."
Midoriya stands up, turning his eyes to the floor and looking drained from his time in the room.
"I… I doubt I should be here when he wakes up. But… could you promise me something?"
Shōta's eye twitches. When Midoriya looks up, he's just a teenager. Not a vigilante or an anomaly. His eyes are red and watering, he's exhausted and his shoulders sag as if he's just been assigned weekend homework.
"When he tries to get back up, don't stop him. Let him keep trying. Holding him back will only make things worse." Midoriya says quietly. Shōta hates the little part of his soul that reaches out towards kids like this one, because it makes it really, really hard to say no. Especially considering what Midoriya has accomplished, considering his condition.