I'm a low caffeinated potato who forgot to post this here too. Sue me.

CHAPTER 1: Naomasa Tsukauchi

It's raining.

The skies are heavy and dark; the rain crashes down from the heavens like a unrelenting force, creating a disjointed symphony of sounds as the water hits the earth.

He tucks his overcoat closer, self conscious of the wet, ragged mess his dark hair had become. In his hurry to get here he'd forgotten to bring something against the rain, and now he was paying for it. Dearly. He's sopping wet and he could feel small lakes forming in his boots, cold seeping into his toes as his socks became soggy and heavy. It's uncomfortable, degrading even; he's dying for a warm cup of coffee right now.

Grunting, Naomasa looks up, squinting stubbornly through the raindrops. The sky is dull and grey, thunder rolling in the distance.

He'd been careless.

Should have brought a raincoat.

Walking through the windy downpour was like bullying Toshinori into eat something healthy. His clothes offer him no protection against the howling storm. Naomasa's pretty sure he just saw someone's umbrella fly by, bright pink with little stars and planets designs on it. It felt vindictive of him, but he was happy he wasn't the only one having a bad day.

Fortunately, his destination wasn't far from a train station. He only had to endure another ten minutes under mother nature's windy fury before he stepped into the building, sighing in relief as the warm air from inside the hospital wrapped around him.

Even more aware of his disorderly state, the detective took a moment to shrug off his drenched overcoat and shake it over one of the many carpets, wincing at just how much water dripped from his coat. At least there weren't any people in the lobby to glare at him beyond the receptionist, and she seemed too busy to take note of his presence and chastise him for the mess. Carefully, the tall man folded the cloth over his right arm and placed his hat on top.

Assured he was at least somewhat more presentable, he walked over the counter and offered his badge to the woman at the entrance hall. She startled slightly, looking up with slightly red brown eyes. Recognizing him on the spot, she only glanced at the offered piece of identification before letting him through, moving him along with a slow nod and a flick of her hand.

"He's in his room." The woman tells him softly, her eyes shifting over the computer screen, slightly blurry. There's bags under her eyes and a half-finished cup of coffee held loosely against her chest like it's a precious treasure and she's some dangerous mythical dragon ready to fight to the death to keep it. "Told me to watch. He's already waiting for you."

To any other person, her words would have been cryptic, menacing even.

For Naomasa, they made him shake his head and smile. He's about to leave when she makes a wordless noise.

Turning back to the blond woman, he tilts his head at her questioningly.

"Here," She grunts, reaching next to her computer and lifting the object up to rest on the upper counter, at Naomasa's eye level. It's a cup of coffee, steaming and ready to go, top frotty just like he prefers it. The detective grins and accepts it with a soft thanks.

More sterile white greeted him as he walked up the winding stairs of the hospital and through tall, empty halls. Some doctors and nurses greet him in passing, busy caring for their patient to give him more than a quiet hello. It seems as if the storm outside had crawled into the building, turning the atmosphere cold, tranquil and sleepy.

Naomasa holds his cup in both hands, eyes fluttering as the warm seeps into his cold hands and up his arms. His grip shifts as he reaches his destination, a door tucked at the end of the hallway of the fourth floor. With the hand not carrying his poor doused overcoat and the frothy coffee, he taps on the smooth wood gently.

There's a moment of silence.

Since there were no objections coming from the other side, Naomasa walks in.

(For any other person, this would be rude. For them, it was routine, built upon years of trust.)

The first thing he notes is the empty bed, sheets in disarray. There's a plate of food abandoned on the nightstand, a half-eaten meal of miso soup, left to cool on the side. There's a bouquet of flowers next to the food, the bright yellow daffodils a stark contrast to the pale colors of the room. It's not the only splash of color however. There's a All Might poster hanging over the bed, a pile of colorful books on a shelf and a small stack of hero figurines carefully posed on a cupboard. Most of them were of a familiar blond-haired hero that Naomasa was forced to deal with in a constant basis. The sight made him smile.

The detective's eyes finds his target quickly enough, at the other end of the room. A figure was sitting in front of the window, curled up in a soft chair. Their appearance could only be described as sickly. Thin and gaunt, his limbs seemed almost comically stretched over nonexistent muscle. Dark green hair grew atop of his head, short and curly.

Naomasa takes a moment to watch him; his eyes land on the thin, delicate fingers drumming softly against the pages of a open notebook secured on the boy's lap, right above a wool blanket of a dark orange color. There's doodles on the margin of the paper, and the pages are mostly filled with carefully packed notes written in a code Naomasa couldn't even begin to understand.

"It shouldn't be raining."

It's a mutter Naomasa barely catches.

"It is, though." He says in greeting, gently.

"It shouldn't."

Izuku sounds almost petulant.

"The storm outside says otherwise. As does my coat." And my everything.

There's a restless sigh. "Not in this one." Naomasa could hear the frown. "At least, that's what I thought. I was going to call you about it so you didn't forget your raincoat, but-" The boy paused, shoulders hunching. With his back to him, the detective could bet his weight in gold that the young teen was pouting. "...I lost track. The stream is splitting too quickly."

Naomasa swallows, what little good humor he'd developed in the presence of his young friend vanishing.

After a few years of visiting the young boy, he'd learned to pick up on the hidden meanings, the twisting wordplay and confusing responses. Izuku had a tendency to ramble over other people and trail off into his own world, saying things that didn't make any sense to the casual observer.

As a detective Naomasa was trained to handle jargon and push through -his Quirk helped a lot with that- but learning Izuku's language had been something else entirely, especially since none of his words ever register as a lie to the officer.

'The stream is splitting too quickly.'

It brings forth a certainty apprehension within Naomasa. There was only one reason why Izuku would tell him this. The boy liked to ramble, but he wouldn't say things without it being important.

Something big was going to happen.

"What did you see?" Naomasa asks, slowly walking forward to telegraph his movements. He sits down at the edge of the bed. He takes a sip of his coffee.

"He's teaching at Yuuei this year." Izuku drums his fingers against the windowsill, avoiding the question. The rain continues to hit the window, louder now like a little soothing melody. "Did All Might tell you?"

"...yes. He confided in me about it." Naomasa says a bit too slowly to be smooth, but Izuku disregards it. Instead of pressing the child, he allows the sudden switch in topics. He hasn't reached a decision yet, but good to know Toshinori will do it. "About time he settled down. He's gonna have to pick a successor soon."

Izuku twitches at that, a little restrained movement that he barely notice if only from years of knowing the child. The green-haired boy remains quiet, so Naomasa continues:

"I'm guessing this isn't a social meeting, is it?"

"No." Izuku pauses. "I...I want you to be ready." He turns his head to Naomasa, lips pressed thin on a pale freckled face. "All for One will show his hand soon."

Naomasa's hand clenched tighter around the coffee cup. Shit. His mind blanked out, with only that word repeating itself over and over.

Out of everything, he wasn't expecting that.

He briefly considered calling Toshinori right here and now, but one look at the young teenager had him pause. It's been years since Toshinori was aided by Izuku, not that the hero knew. As far as the man was aware, the tip that had spared him from a grievous wound during his fight with All for One was anonymous, and Naomasa wanted to keep it that way, at least for now.

Truthfully, he actually made it so Toshinori never knew about the boy, no matter how many 'anonymous' tips he received that helped prevent casualties during villain fights and natural disasters. It wasn't selfish per say, but more of Izuku's own wish to remain in the background. The boy had all but demanded this of him, and there was little he could deny the child after everything he was giving him. Naomasa learned to not prod into this; he'd given up trying to introduce the two of them years ago.

Izuku would tell him the truth one day.

Naomasa could afford to be patient.

Until then, Izuku relayed what he saw to Naomasa, who relayed it to the proper channels depending on the information. His warnings for natural disasters had saved thousands. Evacuating afflicted areas had become more and more easier with hours if not days of warning. Villains were struck down more easily with his insight, though there were always more to take the place of the ones the heroes put behind bar.

It was more difficult for Izuku to do this, though. Villain prophecies were rarer, pickier. Izuku once mentioned to him that it was due to how easily things changed. Even the smallest of events could change the actions of individuals, and it was hard to keep track of everything.

There was a difference however between the common villains and the man that nearly brought Japan to its knees at the beginning of the Quirk era. Naomasa contemplated buying himself a bottle of whisky on his way home; it would certainly do wonders for his nerves.

"Do you know where their base of operation is?"

There's a hum. "Not yet. There's many places for him and his accomplices to hide." He chews on his left cheek, expression determined. Naomasa frowns at the bad habit. "I'll have a location down soon. Give a take a few months." His eyes narrow dangerously. Naomasa takes a moment to examine them. Izuku had always been self conscious of their strangeness, so he rarely had the opportunity to take a good look at them.

Only the corneas had been left untouched by his Quirk, with only a smidge of green at the edges of his irises. Instead of pupils and normal irises, there were swirling fractal patterns stretching out from the middle of his eyes, thousands of shades of blue and white mingling together in a awe-inspiring display. The middle where his pupils used to be was paler, whiter, and shrunk and grew depending on Izuku's mental state. Right now these pseudo pupils were large, marking that the boy was looking at Naomasa, and not through him.

Midoriya Inko, Izuku's mother, had called this aspect of her son's Quirk as beautiful, though he was starting to think it was a way for her to cope with what her child ended up becoming. Internally, Naomasa shared Izuku's dislike of them, though to a lesser degree. They were a physical reminder of how Izuku couldn't turn his Quirk quite off, and it was always there at the back of his head, feeding him a constant stream of information of varying degrees of importance that Izuku couldn't quite stop.

Sometimes, Naomasa wonders what Midoriya sees. Even Nighteye's Foresight paled compared to the sheer power of Omniscience.

Unlike Foresight however, Izuku couldn't deactivate his Quirk.

Izuku's physical growth was greatly stunted as a result, his body unable to keep up with the demand of his Quirk. He would not much grow taller than his current height according to his personal doctor. After all this time spent watching the child in front of him waste away, a part of Naomasa believed this Quirk was more of a horrible curse than anything else, no matter how many lives it saved.

Instead of voicing those thoughts out, Naomasa took the political approach and politely drank his coffee. There was only half a cup left now. "Anything else you wish to tell me?"

"Unfortunately, not much." Izuku turns his attention to the notebook in his lap. Naomasa watches silently as he turns a few pages, and rips three of them out with practiced ease. "Here." The boy extended his hand, and the detective took it gently from a small hand. "...these are the most possible villain events for this month." He ducked his head forward, green curls falling over his luminous eyes. "I don't have anything else. Sorry to drag you out into the rain. This was your day off." Izuku apologized.

"It's no worry." Naomasa completely ignored the fact he never shared his schedule with the teen. "And you did the right thing, Izuku. I told you long ago that if something related to All for One or All Might pops up, you can't use the phone to tell me. It's not safe."

Setting his coffee aside, Naomasa took a good look at the note-filled pages, examining the names listed, the locations and the crimes. The dates were there too, all of the different information organized in neat little rows. No space was wasted.

Izuku had always been quite the perfectionist.

"You did well." Naomasa praises. There's no answer.

When he looks up sharply, his stomach drops. It was as expected. The boy's expression had blanked out, blue fractals spinning within his once green eyes. The white spots that passed as pupils had shrunk to tiny needle-thin points. His expression was soft, almost as if he was sleeping.

The eyes said otherwise.

(Izuku had once described this, to him. Like trying to keep my head out of flood water, the boy told him when he was eight, too small and fragile in his hospital bed. I try to keep track of everything but there's just too much. I keep getting swept away, and I have to struggle to latch onto the rocks. To hold on and remember.)

Naosama's shoulders hunched, his dark eyes closing for a moment in designation.

He moved from the bed, setting the paper folded next to his coffee cup on the stand and leaving his coat aside. Naomasa was gentle as he took the notebook from the unresponding teen and set it on the nearby drawer, next to the figurines. He grabbed the orange blanket on Izuku's lap and pulled it up, wrapping it around the child's shoulders.

Stepping away, he admired his work for a moment. Izuku gazed right past him, unseeing. The fractals were spinning inside his eyes, faster now. It looked like a blue vortex.

The detective didn't try to speak to him, rather reaching to pick up his things. He'd seen the spaced out look before, one too many times. There was no use talking to someone that wasn't there.

And yet-

He turns to the boy who'd done so much without recognition, and bowed.

"It's been good seeing you again, Midoriya. Thank you."

It couldn't hurt.