Chapter 39

Nobody spoke for a while.

Mirko stood at the entrance of the alley, looking towards the League members spread across the ground, and the clean spot on my face where the cut had been. She looked at that last part the longest.

Endeavor, who hadn't moved since he saw the carnage, finally stepped over a crushed steel pipe, taking in the scene and filing his own conclusion. His burning brow furrowed as he saw the trail of destruction: gouged brick walls, the dead league members and scattered limbs lay across pools of blood. In the center of it all sat me, my hero jacket shredded and drenched in crimson, yet without a single mark on my exposed skin.

He stopped three feet away from me, his flames dimming slightly as his gaze dropped towards me.

"How many?" Endeavor asked.

"I initially counted twenty-three; more came in later," I replied flatly. 

He looked at me, doing the math in his head on what it meant for a first-year intern to be ambushed on a solo patrol.

"Your jacket is soaked in blood," Endeavor said, his voice loaded with tension. "Are you injured anywhere?"

"No, I'm not," I said.

Mirko also approached, standing close to a broken dumpster near me; her fists were clenched so tight her knuckles turned white; her usual arrogant attitude was replaced by overwhelming, silent fury.

"I fell for a cheap trick," she muttered, her shoulder dropping. "I didn't even finish hearing the report about the incident, and I left my intern alone in a trap."

"You don't have to beat yourself over this; I'm still breathing after all," I said, wiping some of the dried blood off my palm onto my pants. "And they didn't get what they wanted."

At my words, Mirko turned her head and stared at me. Her eyes instinctively traced a line over my face where Stain's blade had cut me and my forehead where there was a hole a moment ago. Seeing me uninjured only made her jaw tighten further. She knew that my injury should have been fatal, and my lack of scars proved just how close I had come to dying on her watch.

"I doubt your presence would have made much difference; they were extremely well prepared. They came in with custom earpieces designed to block my paralysis scream. And the Hero Killer was with them."

Hearing this, Endeavor’s head snapped toward me. "Stain?"

"Yes. He cut me, locking my movement, and while he was lecturing me, one of the others tried to finish it."

Endeavor stared once again at the deep gouges on the wall, and the carnage left behind by my Quirk. He then looked back at my face, taking in my steady breathing. I met his gaze without flinching.

"If the Safety Commission reads a report stating a U.A. freshman killed people and caused so much damage, you won't be going back to school," Endeavor said plainly. "They'll pull you out of class by midnight."

Mirko stepped forward. "He's my intern, Endeavor. I'm not letting those suit-wearing bureaucrats lock a kid in a cage because he survived an ambush."

"Then we better take control of the narrative right now," Endeavor said

The initial confusion on Endeavor's face had long since vanished, replaced by a cold and calculating grimace; he could see the political disaster brewing right in front of him. This was a PR nightmare that could break public trust and cause outrage overnight.

"Stand back," Endeavor growled at us, urging us to get out of the alley before stepping directly into the center of the ruined passage.

He raised both hands and unleashed a torrent of fire, turning the alley into a furnace within seconds.

The extreme heat incinerated everything; the scattered limbs and the pools of blood vanished before they could sink into the ground. 

I quietly watched the Number Two Hero burn a crime scene to ash without a second thought. There was no waiting for a forensic unit, no police tape, and no evidence gathering. 

Beside me, Mirko stood with her arms rigid at her sides. 

A little while later Endeavor extinguished his flames. Thin wisps of smoke were still rising off the ground as he stepped across the blackened pavement toward the two of us. He pulled out his radio. 

"If anyone else who shouldn't be in the know asks, Stain was here with the league. We pushed them back. The damage was caused by a villain Quirk during the clash. The kid stayed back, defended himself, and survived."

He said before flicking a switch on the radio. "Dispatch, this is Endeavor. I've had an altercation with the villain’s league in District Two. Send Detective Naomasa and a transport car to escort us out immediately."

"The police transport should be about eight minutes out," Endeavor said, his voice full of authority. "Detective Naomasa will be taking personal charge of this scene. Until he arrives, neither of you opens your mouth."

"I know how to handle incident protocol, Endeavor; I don't need your help." Mirko snapped back, though the usual heat in her tone was absent.

Endeavor didn't argue back. He shifted his eyes toward me, his chest heaving slightly under his suit. "Good. Because a U.A. student standing unhurt in the middle of a pile of bodies is something Nezu and the Commission will have to answer for behind locked doors.”

….

Ten minutes later, the flashing red and blue lights of a police convoy illuminated the mouth of the alley with two black sedans pulling up, cutting off what little view remained from the main avenue.

Detective Naomasa stepped out from the lead sedan; he pulled his trench coat tight to protect himself against the evening chill. He paused; his eyes took in the blackened alley.

Endeavor met him right at the edge of the alley, stepping into his path before Naomasa could move deeper into the corridor. The heat radiating off the Flame Hero's armor made the air between them shimmer.

"The scene is contained," Endeavor said, his voice flat, devoid of any emotion. "We neutralized the threats, and I incinerated the villain's remains because one of them possessed a quirk that had turned this place into a biological hazard."

Naomasa looked past Endeavor's massive frame into the empty, charred alley. As a veteran detective, he knew exactly what Endeavor had done. He didn't try to argue or demand further explanation; he didn't even ask for a forensics team; in high-profile incidents involving top heroes, damage control always took priority over traditional evidence gathering.

Naomasa turned his attention to me, walking past Endeavor. His eyes swept down my torn clothes, taking in the layer of dried blood on my chest and hands. Then he looked up at my face.

"Arata, seems like we are meeting again in unfortunate circumstances," Naomasa said softly, before asking. "Are you injured anywhere?"

"No," I replied, meeting his gaze. "I'm completely fine."

Naomasa held my gaze for a second, waiting for his Quirk to confirm whether I was lying. It wouldn't be the first time he saw a hero or sidekick lie about his own condition. When no lie signal was registered, a faint crease formed between his brows. From the state of my clothes, it should have been impossible for me not to have any injury, yet my words were the absolute truth.

"I see," Naomasa said quietly. He didn't want to press the issue in the middle of a public alleyway. He turned toward his officers and gestured toward the rear of the sedans. "Escort him inside. We are moving him to a secure facility immediately."

Two uniformed officers stepped up beside me. I didn't resist or make a scene; I walked over to one of the cars and climbed inside.

Outside the open transport doors, Mirko stood leaning against the brick wall, typing something on her phone.

She was sending a direct incident report straight to Nezu's private server. She was making sure U.A. received her full account so they could keep control of the situation.

Once she finished typing, Mirko slid her phone into her pocket and stepped up to the edge of the transport car. She looked at the two police officers guarding it, her eyes flashing with an unmistakable threat.

"I hope nobody questions my intern," Mirko growled, her voice low and dangerous. "Not in the car or at the precinct, and not without Nezu or his legal guardian present. If any of you try to interrogate him alone, I'll tear you apart."

The officers nodded quickly, stepping back without a word. Mirko met my eyes one last time through the car window, her eyes filled with guilt.

I sat back as the transport pulled away from the alley, preparing myself for the inevitable interrogation waiting for me at U.A.

….

The sedans moved quickly through the city streets under heavy police escort.

I sat quietly, looking down at my blood-stained hands.

‘ Fuck, Dying has always been unpleasant, but right now I'm knee-deep in shit. The real problem is that I have been seen. Everyone saw my unblemished skin beneath my shredded suit that could still be explained, but Mirko had seen the cut on my face heal in real-time. And the worst of it all is that I'll more than likely be unable to lie my way out of trouble since Naomasa will be present.’

….

Across town at U.A. High School, Principal Nezu’s private computer chimed in his office with Mirko's report arriving directly at Nezu's desk.

He read the report in silence. Mirko’s account was blunt to say the least: an ambush in her district, the blood-soaked ground, the destruction, and her intern whose injury she saw healing in front of her eyes. The report raised several alarms in his head but also started to answer some of his questions.

Nezu picked up his desk phone and dialed Aizawa’s internal line. "Shota, clear the Fourth wing immediately. It seems like our intern is on his way back from Mirko's district, and we are going to need complete isolation before the Safety Commission gets involved."

Twenty minutes later, the sedans pulled into U.A.’s underground security parking, whose heavy steel blast doors shut behind our convoy, completely sealing us off from outside surveillance.

Aizawa stood at the bottom of the ramp, his hands shoved deep inside his pockets. He looked as tired as usual, but his eyes locked onto mine as soon as I got out of the car; his gaze was heavy with suspicion.