Merry Christmas everyone. It's not a chapter to the other stories I got, apologies, but it's also not going to take from my other uploads. I really only wanted to post this because it's been a story on my mind after reading many other cliches and tropes and character traits through other interpretations. This ends up being a mix of a lot of things I've enjoyed and re-imagined myself and it has become this. At best, maybe I get to post on this story more. At worst, I'll update when I can't work on this and encourage anyone who wants to, to take this first chapter and put their own twist on it for a story, if a concept and world hasn't peaked in your mind yet. Take this and let it be your concept. I enjoy seeing what and how people write. Get it a lot on my discord talkin about the Metal Bat story (link on profile because doesn't like it when you post links on your stories.)

All the same, I hope any and all of you have some enjoyment in this introduction. And happy holidays.

He did it because it was his job.

It was frowned upon, and he with it, but he did it. He was given the choice – the opportunity – to step up and protect the people, and he took it. He's not the only one with the right, but he may be the only one who takes the chance than those who shoulder it and move on. He never humors the risk.

His job wasn't a choice, even then. It was never his dream, never his goal. It was his task and mission, one men and the world itself hired him for and built him for. His old desires were crushed seven times over, back when the world without his dream wasn't one he could consider himself a part of. But a dead dream only left space for another to take his place; for a choice and a chance to live on for him to move on to. He was forced through a mentality growth spurt but it's what kept him alive. He was thankful for it.

The chance to be home was all he wanted out of his job. His grandparents had passed long before he had to change who he was, and his father from an illness during his time on the job spent in Europe. All he had left was his mother, and protecting her was his goal, first and foremost. His job paid well, even if it was his reputation he had to pay back in return. Her protection and health came first; he could live with ridicule.

At least the police had his back. After the rise of the hero profession, both the use and public opinion of police forces around the world diminished. Their own proficiency in stopping criminal activity and apprehending criminals and villains had grown, thanks to the sheer existence of quirks almost 200 years ago, but the work of a licensed hero greatly overshadowed every officer of the law. A rift grew between the two professions around the world, despite working on the same side. Not everywhere pitted heroes and cops against one another in public perception, but it was a minor population to the profession of lawful good. Japan was a country in the middle, most providences and regions without hostility between heroes and police officers, but the higher ranking heroes had little good or anything to say about the cops in comparison to their own work, and even less on his job in the matter of protecting the innocent.

Flash Freeze was one of those heroes.

He had respect for the police to some degree, but there was shade thrown into his words; commenting on how they couldn't do what he could, that their actions were ineffective to any and every situation he was a part of and that working with them was never his go to. If he could, Flash Freeze would enter every situation on his own; take care of any criminal on his own. Officers were just collateral damage, and capture was the only outcome for any criminal encounter.

So Agent Crocodile understood well why the hero was glaring at him.

"If you keep that face up, it'll be stuck like that forever," he chided the hero, shouldering the dead heterochromatic eyes before him. "My mom used to tell that as a joke to me growing up whenever I pouted or got frustrated. Supposed to make me try to be happier, try to smile more. Your mother never tell you that too?"

"Don't talk about my mother." The hero's tone was as cold as his quirk.

"I'll take that as a no." The agent knocked against the wall behind the driver's seat. "Hey Kamon. You're mother ever tell you your face would freeze up if you pouted too long?"

The officer behind the wheel quacked a laugh. "Nah, I was too cheery to ever hear it," the billed man responded. "My sis heard it all the time though; kept up a rebellious phase from junior high through college. Ever family photo, you'll see the sneer she's stuck with. Mother gives her an earful every Christmas. Still got a husband with it."

"Ain't she an artist?" the man in the passenger seat brought up. "Thought the first guy married her for money."

"Yeah, then he was arrested, I got to chuck him behind bars, and my sister remarried a man who didn't care for a cocked lip. Good guy. Hope he lasts more than three months."

"Hope so too. Kucho and Dakku look made for each other." Crocodile turned back to the hero, glare set in stone and gaze set on him. "You've got a girl of your own, don't you hero? Heard you and Creati are officially wed. I give you my congratulations."

"I would prefer you not speak of her either," the hero replied. A bloom of frost snaked over the hero's shoulder. "I don't wish to talk friendly with you." It was a sting directed at Crocodile, not his colleagues; not too hard to tell under the glass of his visor. The hero never once gazed over their way. He wanted the agent to know it was him alone he was speaking to.

"Would you mind at least giving her our thanks?" The officer in the passenger seat looked back over his shoulder to the hero behind him. His three left eyes blinked in unison. "My son works in the Saitama prefecture precinct. She saved his life at the bank robbery a month ago and I haven't been able to express my gratitude to her for it. Can you pass it on?"

The sheet of ice became steam as the hero looked over to the cop and softened his glare with a nod. "I'll make sure she knows."

"Thank you," the officer nodded back and turned forward again.

Flash Freeze never told the media he wanted the police force to be abolished and have full power passed on to the Hero Association and its sister organizations. While he insulted field work under his breath on the news, he never impeached on the work done behind closed doors, or the process of apprehension to imprisonment. He had shown only support and certainty in the work of a police officer as an aftermath official than a worker in the heat of the moment.

But Agent Crocodile wasn't a licensed cop; just one who worked comfortably with them, enough so to do as he pleased to arrest the criminals he came across. He was fair game, he mused to himself. Soiling the public name of heroes unintentionally painted the target on his back, and near all he had met on the job had taken their verbal shots at him. They were still people of the law, of course, so throwing hands with a helmeted man in the eye of the public out of the blue would only dampen the status of the business of professional heroism.

Crocodile hated heroes, but only specific ones; those who he felt were given a position they did not deserve and failed to live up to. Responsibilities they never gave the time or care to carry out. Causing more harm than they did stop it. The profession itself had a stronger side of ups and exceptional folk than it did the bad apples left as footnotes in the history books and scrolling text on the news. Crocodile had respect for that and those who could hold up the law and could work alongside others in it as real partners.

That excluded Flash Freeze, but he was never going to say it out loud.

"I don't know why they allow you on these missions," the hero complained, face maintaining the passive look despite the hiss of his tongue.

"Because I do my job," the agent replied more monotonous. "I'm trusted to do what I do best, and this is a high-level target. Between the two of us, I'm the only one with the clearance to take him out on the spot if he gets too dangerous. Last I checked, you were denied that right."

"You're not the only one in Minaso who can legally kill."

"But I was the only one available." Agent Crocodile was quick to shoot down his comment. "Every other hero in the area is stuck working elsewhere and doing their parts in protecting society and the innocent lives of civilians among us. So you" – he jabbed a finger at the hero before throwing it around to himself – "and I are going to work together to apprehend them, first and foremost. For their sake, they come quietly and kindly and we won't have to use excessive force."

Quirks were a paraded evolution in the history of mankind for all of five seconds before the world watched them grow in numbers, with horror in their eyes. Mutations were random and the process on already grown humans was grotesque at times. Emitters caused heavy damage when the suddenly appeared and their users lacked control. Some blessings were placed in the hands of the wrong people, and tragedies were listed under supernatural hap stance or not. They lived in an era of ridicule for near a century before a hero ever came to be. When one did, he was before the profession was legal, but he was the spark to the light of hope relit in humanity's survival. Laws were made to accommodate those who chose to protect society – first an extension of the police force before branching off into their own category of business – and then the laws were changed again to target the problems of the world.

The right to kill on the field was a move of retaliation brought about by the larger governmental powers of the world. America, Britain, China, Egypt, Russia; the votes for the power to end the lives of those who posed a threat to the greater good of society rose by the day. The Hero Association backed the legislation, pushed for its legality, and after many ratifications and edits, the law was finalized. The power to kill a criminal – labeled on record as any category of villain – only when there was no option to apprehend or attempts to do so were failing, would be permitted to only a selection of heroes; those who could be trusted with their judgement on the situations and act only with rationality.

Agent Crocodile worked to get that approval stamped on his hero identification when he applied, and was granted such when his license was delivered. Flash Freeze publicly admitted he was denied the approval when the conversation on the right to take lives was brought before him.

The van bumped off the road as they turned. "We're here," Kamon announced, sending the two in to the back moving to prepare. Flash Freeze stood up, holding to the overhead bar, while Crocodile turned on heel and flipped his seat open. It worked well for equipment storage. He spent a moment sorting aside his choices before swiping out a double-barrel and pocketed a box of ammunition in his vest.

"I thought you said we were to apprehend them," the hero commented, eyeing the firearm in the agent's hands.

"And one of the men we're apprehending is a man capable of producing a high enough voltage to kill any person he touches with little to no drawback, thanks to his history letting us know," Crocodile responded, tapping the side of his helmet. He dropped his arm to hang by his side with the shotgun as the vehicle came to a skidding stop. "Taking changes won't be ideal. If we can't take him in, I'm saving who I can. Even if it's you." The backdoor swung open and Crocodile took no hesitation to jump out and swing around the other officers exiting their vehicle. The hero trailed behind him, flaking his side as the other officers formed around them.

The agent took note of the walls beside them, down each route of the alley they had parked in. Down either opening he could see the outside world continue to hustle and bustle, ignorant of their presence or willingly brushing them aside after a single glance. Less people around the better, he reasoned. The door before them was the only one close enough to access, so he stepped to it and gave it a once over. The front door of the living complex wasn't exactly the better option and he was fine settling for second best.

"Listen up," he started, gaining the attention of the officers around him. "There are three wanted men inside. Seichō Sentoa, Teru Soda and Gu Raitonin. Gu is the high target of the group. Approach him with caution and the intention to sedate and render unconscious. He's a recent escapee and the only one with a villain history, so stay at attention. Seichō and Teru have little to no criminal record, none in regards to the latter; they have a strength quirk and a plant control quirk respectively. No hostility is to be used against either of them unless your life is on the line, and I implore you all to wound before you maim. Understood?" The other officers nodded and mumbled their agreement, whilst the hero beside him barely bounced his head.

"Good. Big building, so we're splitting into pairs. Kamon, you're with me. Kumo, you're with Flash Freeze. Iwa with Yō. Sune with Ryō." The billed gentlemen took to Crocodile's other side, and the multi-eyed father by the hero's. The man with cracks in his skin stood with the girl with melting hair singing the shoulders of her uniform, and the orange-furred woman with the boy with a flicking tail shuffling his jacket. "Move and act with caution. They're reported to have hostages. You all have images of the men with you" – Crocodile pulled down the wrist of his glove and tapped the screen of his watch – "to know them apart. Save all civilians and bring these three to justice." The group shared one last nod before the agent turned to face the hero. "Let's go. Mind freezing the handle?"

The hero squinted his eyes a moment before his hand glossed over the knob on the door and covered it in ice all the way to where the door locked into the wall. The agent nudged him back gently before gripping his weapon and smashing it down on the handle. The door trickled open slowly, and Crocodile grabbed its edge and sped up that process as Kamon and Kumo deholstered their weapons to aim down the shadowed hallway. "Clear." The agent chambered his weapon by his chest as he advanced, his partner by his side and their crew filtering in behind them closing the door gently.

Crocodile clicked a button at the bottom of his helmet, and small pops of static from the officers behind him sounded. "Kamon and I will head up the west side rooms," he spoke into his mic, his voice echoing faintly from his crew. "Iwa and Yō will take up the east side. Sune and Ryō, I want you two down on this floor searching for any of the men or anyone held hostage. You catch the scent of those men's locations or their attempts to escape, report it immediately. Hero, I want you and Kumo setting up whatever trap or obstacle you can down here too. Other officers will be circling the building soon if they try to escape; try to keep that from happening." He took one look behind him to the serious looks of his crew and the silent glare of the hero's. "I'm counting on you all."

Crocodile took no hesitation in marching down one of the branching halls, Kamon quick to follow his trail as they scaled the stairwell. Door after door they opened on the second floor, empty room after empty room they found. The building had been properly vacated a few weeks prior, the previous owner running close to bankrupt and kicking out all attendants just to keep something in his pockets. Teru was reported as one of those attendees, and taking hostages and demanding ransom sounded like a reasonable connection.

The floorboards creaked under their shoes, cracking softly from the weight of the agent's boots. The only source of light for the hall was Yō's molten hair and the late afternoon sun that peeked through each open room. Voices were quiet or mute, with the floor below giving muffled chatter neither the agent nor the three officers with him could hear. Remenants of the previous residents lingered in each room, belongings and décor abandoned and forgotten when they were pulled and near evicted from their home. Flash Freeze wasn't the only hero on board because he was around, but because so little of them wished to be seen in a place like this, the agent chided.

The two men crossed paths with Iwa and Yō in the middle of the hallway before stalking down to the opposite ends and ascending from there. The third floors continued to disappoint the Agent in his own findings, but the duo across from him found and ushered out a pair of teams who had been tied on their end of the hallway and their animalistic partners below reported their own findings of Seichō and a few civilians bound around him. The man was defeated in quick combat and the hostages freed shortly after binding the criminal, leaving a few people left to save and two more to hunt.

There was light emitting from the door in the dead center of the hall, both pairs stopping on their sides and pressed against the wall. Crocodile inched closest, leaning his helmet just before the door casing. He could see through the thin peek of the door's opening a bare arm and hand tapping away at a dresser left behind. Barely visible beside it were the murky colors of camo pants and the silver lining of a bullet vest. The agent looked to his partners through his visor, signing Gu's name for them to see before counting with his fingers to the moment he bashed open the door and pointed his gun at the villain's chest.

"Hands up!" he shouted at the man with eyes wide under his skull-shaped mask. The other officers piled in behind him, the duo of stone and lava trained on the villain as Kamon inched away from his partners to the trio of girls bound and gagged in the corner. "Gu Raitonin, you are under arrest for the murders of 23 civilians and two heroes, two attempts to escape arrest, multiple accounts of assault and currently kidnapping after your last attempt to slip through our fingers. You are to come quietly and willingly into custody or we will use force to bring you in."

The shocked and shocking criminal scoffed under his mask, eyes darting to the three firearms pointed his way. "Is bringing me in your first attempt?" he jeered. "This doesn't exactly look like the welcoming party wanting to bring me in peacefully."

"Attempting to avoid your sentence kinda does that to your reputation," Yō remarked, pulling a forced smile across her face. "Unlike you, we uphold the law, which means you still deserve a trail to be present for listing all your deeds for the life sentence you'll be given in Tartarus." The girl scooted closer and allowed Kamon to usher the now free hostages out of the room behind her.

"You say that, un-ironically, with him in the room." The villain pointed a finger to the agent between the officers, his eyes pinching from a hidden smile. "Branding your forehead 'KILLER' doesn't scream a person for the justice system."

"It's got you shaking in your boots," Crocodile countered, "so it's doing something all right. Turn around, get on your knees, hands behind your head and don't move. Wouldn't want to open up your old wounds, would we?"

"Found Gu," Iwa called over the radio, holstering his weapon and swiping a pair of cuffs from his belt. "Apprehending him now. Keep an eye out for Teru. There may be more hostages with him on the upper floors."

"I thought we agreed on negotiations," Gu hissed on, ignoring the officer scooting closer to him. "Should have expected low life like you to go behind my back and on your word."

"I never agreed to anything and I'm almost insulted you think of me as someone as pathetic as you," Crocodile sneered back. "I don't kill for pleasure. Now turn around."

The villain complied, turning slowly on his heels, but he continued to chatter. "You already blast off Seichō head? That why he ain't responding? Guy's a pretty prick to work with, but I didn't think he was worth the ammunition."

"You wanna join him?" Crocodile pumped the barrel of his gun, earning a look of concern from his partners. Seichō was fine, as farm as Sune reported, and his gun wasn't even loaded for the fight. Like his mask and his uniform intimidation was his game, second only to his skill. "Been a while since I've had to put down multiple in one day. Public's gonna have another riot."

"What floor are you on?" Kumo called over on the mic.

"Third," Yō responded, only to be met with a cut call of confirmation and some shouting barely heard through the floor.

"Shit, the hero heard and is running your way. Asshole."

"What?" Yō called back, swinging back to the door with Crocodile's head doing the same. Fucker—

"Teru!" Gu suddenly shouted. The agent snapped his head back to the villain before him and Iwa took a jump forward to grab the man's wrist and slap a cuff over it before the wall had burst open by a curtain of vines.

The stone skinned officer was thrown back by a whip to his chest and the girl at the door rolled out before one could trip her up. Crocodile shot himself back in a roll, ducking into himself and skidding back and sharp leaves and thorns lashed about the room. Gu shook his hand in distain to the cuffs locked to him, but there was a glee in his eyes behind the mask as he rushed out the room. The agent spared a look to the officer behind him whose skin was slowly cracking and piling as dust on the floor.

"I'll be fine," Iwa grumbled as his skin hardened into stone. "I ain't no Pokemon. Go." Crocodile took the invitation and dived after the electricity user, hopping the vines. He swiped a pair of shells from his vest and shoved them into his gun before he was out the door, spotting Gu held up down the hall by Yō at gunpoint.

The pump action of his firearm had the villain turn around to greet him. "Check upstairs for Teru," the agent called out over Gu's shoulder. Yō looked to him bewildered but he just nodded. "He's probably juiced on trigger if he's this powerful. Stop him before he does more damage than he's worth. I'll keep this one here." The electric criminal turned his full body to the helmet-wearing agent, allowing the lava-haired girl to twist and burst up the stairwell after her target.

"Got quite the ego if you're keeping your hero out of this to take me in yourself," Gu chided, tilting his head a second. "Something against him?"

"For. You run down those stairs, I'm not the guy with the means of stopping you in your tracks and bringing you in alive all in one. He is a bit of a prick though. S'reminding me of someone; name's on the tip of my gun." The agent took slow steps forward, gun held steady in his approach.

The stomping of the floor behind him stopped at its loudest. "I thought the plan was to bring him in alive," Flash Freeze commented from the opposite end of the hall. Crocodile sagged his shoulders and sighed, but kept his gaze forward on the villain.

"Sometimes I wonder if selective hearing is a genetic trait," the agent mumbled. The building rumbled around them and the gun in his hands rose back up. "The plan remains, hero. Find and apprehend. Yō is upstairs looking for Teru, and I've got Gu just fine. Go upstairs and help her for me, will ya?"

"C'mon, Killer Croc," Gu teased, leaning over to peer to the hero down the hall, "don't kick out the hero before he can join in on—wait a minute." The eyes under the skull mask squinted when he pointed over. "I remember you. One of those U.A. brats." The hairs on Crocodile's arms were standing up before the floor beneath them was coated in a sheet of ice trapping his and Gu's feet.

The agent grumbled and looked back over his shoulder to the hero hunched over and glaring their way. "Could you maybe not get me in the crossfire? I'm on your side, dickhead."

A small stream of frost blew from the corner of the hero's mouth as he straightened up. "Well he's stuck now—."

The roof collapsed around them from vines and roots breaking down and slamming on the frozen floor.

Crocodile was freed from his temporary lock to the ground as the casing on his boots shattered and sent him stumbling into the wall and loosening the grip on his firearm. Gu toppled over beside him and recovered to his feet just as quickly, hands sparking and taking a hold of the agent's gun. The two struggled in a tug of war over the weapon, with Gu's electricity stopping short of electrocuting the agent past the gloves he wore. But he could feel the shock, growing as the villain upped his output; he was aiming to use a deadly voltage.

The agent spun on one foot, twisting the gun out of Gu's hands and knocking the man into the opposite wall with his elbow. The barrel of the gun was hoisted to the villain's head but the shot taken never connected, as the criminal threw out a hand to swat it away before the trigger was pulled. Another hand was shot the agent's way and he threw his own out to grab it short of clutching his abdomen. The gun Crocodile swung down to bat the villain's head was stopped short by Gu's other hand.

The building shook again from the sway of another wave of vines, and Crocodile followed with his fall backwards, pulling Gu with him and throwing the man over his head and slamming on the floor behind him. The agent rolled to one knee and swung his shotgun back around to fire, but was stopped short as roots shot from the walls and wrung themselves around him, pulling him away from Gu.

With Crocodile fighting the bind of Teru's quirk, Gu was given the moment to collect himself, swaying to his feet and smiling with his eyes at the squirming man before him. Then the temperature dipped again, ice shot against the wall with a piercing snap that had the villain turn around, and the vines around Agent Crocodile slackened as quickly as they caught him. Not too far from him now was Flash Freeze, facing the stairwell he had come from. On it, frozen to the walls of the higher steps, was Teru struggling to move under a full body coat of ice. With his back turned, Gu was given the opportunity to rush forward with hands bursting bright with power aimed at the hero. Flash Freeze turned around just in time to see the villain's hands inches from his face.

Gu's own face was gone in a bang before he could make contact.

The criminal's body collapsed on the floor where the hero sidestepped from. Flash Freeze's eyes rested on the corpse before his blood-splattered expression turned to the agent and his smoking gun, still lying in the limp cascade of vines around him. The agent stayed that way, angled up slightly and empty firearm aimed with the villain had once stood, until Yō came stumbling down the stairs to Teru's encased body. Then she noticed Gu's state and the rest of the room.

Crocodile didn't move as Yō called over the coms of the two apprehended criminals and the fate of the third; he wouldn't until he was ushered out by his colleagues pulling him and a staggering Iwa – skin webbed in more cracks and openings – down the stairs for the building to be taped off and clean up to do its job. He took control of his own feet when leaving down the hall they came and dropping into the backseat of the vehicle opposite the one he rode to the job. The stone-skinned officer was ushered aside for a check in an ambulance, while everyone else shuffled back into their original seat; the hero included, wiping blood from his neck and watching the agent intently.

Agent Crocodile knew the meaning of the glare the hero was giving him. Civilians gave it to him when they drove out the alleyway, past the crowds piled around the street behind cop cards and yellow tape. Plenty of heroes he worked with gave it to him before their missions even began. His own boss had given him one when he first caught wind of the agent's career goal. He killed people because he was given the opportunity to. He killed villains and criminals because they posed as threats to the safety and well-being of societies and individual people. He killed mobs because no one else would.

He did it because it was his job.

Shoto had never really been in a police force precinct. If he ever had to ride with them to or from crime scenes, he would usually direct them to the agency he and his wife co-owned. Cops were busy people behind their desks, just as much as he was writing reports of his jobs and working a team of interns and sidekicks as he climbed the ranks in Japan. When it was up to him, Shoto opted to part ways with the police as soon as possible so they could get their paperwork done and head home to their families and beds sooner; a simple courtesy he could offer them.

But he knew who this team was connected to, or really who else worked in the same district; Detective Naomasa. It had been a while since the two had met or worked together since the dual-quirked boy graduated from U.A. and Shoto only had fond memories of the approachable law official, so he stayed with the officers and alone in the police van on the ride back to the precinct just to say hi.

And maybe ask why he was working with Killer Croc on a regular basis.

They may not have talked in a while but that didn't mean Shoto didn't know what the detective was doing these day. There wasn't a page in the paper that mentioned the detective and the hired agent of the Hero Association that Shoto hadn't read. For every underground crime group the two upturned and apprehended, and every body the more violent of the two put six feet under, the rising fire-and-ice hero was there to hear about it. The permission of lethal force wasn't a new law, not for decades, but flaunting it the way Agent Crocodile (the man that the media had duped as Killer Croc ever since it was painted on his iconic helmet) was something the past few years had yet to decide on their feelings over.

Yet as staple as the masked official of the law was to the name of the Minato precinct, the main work room had nothing to show of it. The officers Shoto had worked with – or really the two he had ridden with while the rest of the crowd was missing – had snaked to their desks to work on paper and left the hero to do as he had mentioned in meeting an old friend, which left the hero surveying the place as he approached the door with Naomasa's name plastered over it. News articles and photos were framed around but the hero found none that included the masked man the police worked with. It was strange; with the attention the man brought to the effectiveness of the police from more than the bystanders they had become to the hero workforce, why wouldn't they parade it around?

Did they detest his actions and methods as much as he did?

The door to Naomasa's office opened before Shoto could knock on it, the detective behind him stumbling back a step to avoid being knocked on the head. "Oh, Flash Freeze," Naomasa greeted him with a grin, "you decide to come over. Thought Kamon was gonna drop you back at your office when I got the call."

"We haven't spoken properly in years," Shoto responded earnestly. "Work hasn't put us on a team for too long. Not enough criminals or large activity to warrant events like today."

The old detective chuckled, nodding his head to the room around them. "You're welcome for that. I assume with the extra free time, you've been spending it well? Heard you and Creati got married, but it's oddly suspicious I never found an invite in my mail."

"My apologies. Momo had asked for a small wedding, and if I remember correctly you were dealing with an underground Trigger ring down in Kyoto. We didn't think you had the time—"

Naomasa's hand gently smacked the hero's shoulder. "I'm messin' with a kid," he chuckled. "You're right; I probably wouldn't have made it anyways. Few of us were actually kind of bummed about it. Izuku would have loved to meet heroes at a wedding; add the experience to his list."

"Didn't Midoriya already go to a wedding?" Kamon piped in, leaning back from his desk and peering over his computer. "Heard he got to meet Splitter and trade notes over a three-foot tall cake?"

"Yes but the bride wasn't a hero," Naomasa clarified. "She was Splitter's cousin. He still hasn't been to a hero's wedding. Need to get him into one normally before he tries breaking in for an autograph."

Shoto eyed Naomasa with concern but the room didn't read his expression. "I can see it now," Kumo narrated, waving a hand over his head. "The priest calls for any objections, and it is then he kicks open the doors and waves around his notebook; 'I do! I still haven't gotten your autograph!'"

"I'm hurt you don't assume I'd come through the window," a new voice piped in, turning Shoto's attention to where the room bent down another hall and a green-haired man leaned against the corner. "I thought that was my signature move. It's supposed to be how I start my first date, remember?"

The spider-faced man blinked the right side of his face before the left did the same, registering the other man's presence. "I almost forgot you mentioned that. The 'Dramatic Entrance' thing you wanted to do, once you got promoted."

"And I will, once that day comes." The man strode into the room directly to the hero, stopping a few feet short. "Flash Freeze correct? It's a pleasure to formally meet you. Detective Midoriya Izuku."

The hero accepted the outstretched hand, shaking it slowly and raising an eyebrow. "Formally?"

"Had I the option to be at your wedding, the first thing I would have done is asked for your autograph and gush over the work you and your wife have done as heroes for us and all of society. With this guy breathing down my shoulder in the work place, need to be a bit more proper in front of a hero." Midoriya's head tilted to the detective beside them, the jagged ends of his dark jade hair nearly pointing to the old and graying Naomasa. "Heard about what happened out there today. Thank you for being there today, capturing two criminals and saving even more lives. Any help we can get to save people is appreciated."

"We didn't save everyone," Shoto put it bluntly, his tone faltering the smile on Midoriya's face. "Even if he was a villain, Gu should have been brought in for justice. He was a criminal and a villain, but he was still a human. I'm sorry I couldn't have saved him in time."

Shoto hated the legalization of defensive killing because it spat on the soul of heroics. This wasn't a world of men and monsters, it was a world of men and women and nothing more. Everyone was a person. Everyone came from somewhere. Everyone had a reason to their actions, if they were even consciously aware of them; little cases of criminals suffering from mental disorders or quirk disassociation existed in history and on the news. Heroes were supposed to save people, and that generalization extended to criminals and civilians with little to no exceptions. Yes, he had tried for the examination of approval for the right to take a life on the field if push came to shove, but only under his father's request (demand, really, to save more people than he would have to put down when facing the most extreme of villains and terrorists.) He had purposely failed it and his loss was convincing enough to his father and the Association that his own reputation wouldn't be tarnished by the profession of a killer.

A stark contrast to the man in a helmet who acted almost solely on the news with the power to kill over apprehension. Shoto wondered why anyone would work and associate with the man who let his job brand his uniform. Why would the detective he always knew as All-Might's closest law official and a band of other officers approve of his actions?

Midoriya nodded solemnly. "I heard about that over the radio. Yō gave me her report while she was still out there. Sune, Ryō and Agent Crocodile gave me pieces, but our Fox and the Hound duo are currently booked comforting the hostages and working with the rest of the force to determine where Seichō and Teru are going to be places before trial. And our agent went home to reconcile and rest over all this." He lowered his head to look Shoto in the eyes – maybe a centimeter or two of difference was there between them – and his mouth formed a straight line. "No one here is ever happy when we have to take a shot at someone. Even for the life of others. I'm sorry, we all failed to accomplish that today."

As far as the man's expression and Naomasa's equally sullen nod told, it was genuine disappointment. "Then why work with Agent Crocodile?" the hero pressed, regaining raised eyebrows from the two detectives. "He has no problem with having to take a life. I've heard him take more than anyone else I know—"

"Because he's the only one who goes into those situations," Midoriya cut in, hands stuffed into the pockets of his coat. "If it makes you feel any better, he doesn't like it either. Naomasa and I have both talked with him before about it, and according to him every life he's taken weighs on him."

Had Naomasa not spoken in agreement, Shoto wouldn't believe it. But the detective was known for his quirk in detecting truths and lies. "Were these things he told you, directly?" The detective nodded again. "Then why does he do it, if he doesn't like it?"

"Because he doesn't have much else of a choice," Naomasa provided, him and Midoriya sharing a solemn look. "His quirk doesn't allow him for much in the way of fighting, but he was never going to let his will to save people be anything less than action. It just lead him down a more extreme path than most are willing to go down."

"And not every criminal is out there to listen to us," Midoriya followed up, pacing around the Shoto until he was on the other side. "Too many people act in the disinterest of society and peace, and it isn't like the Hero Association puts a fair amount of funding in our prisons. There's several kinks in this system we need to work out, but putting down a threat is easier than getting law and money shifted in our favor—"

"I bring donuts!" The elevator dinged open across the room, and out strode Sune with boxes stacked in her arms and Ryō and Yō tailing behind her.

"—But this is." Midoriya was quick to turn away and dash to greet the crew, taking a box from her and passing in along to the men previously seated in the room. It was somewhat jarring to watch the man swap from sullen to a bright smile as he chomped down on a chocolate glazed. He jumped into conversation with the officers, greeting them in their seats and completely shouldering the conversation with the hero and the elder detective he had budged into.

"As nice as it is to see you again, kid," Naomasa moved on, patting Shoto on the shoulder, "you should probably head back to your agency now. It's getting late; doubt the misses would want you to hold her up for the night."

Shoto blinked his head over to the clock, reading the late time of the day. "Momo should be returning from her patrol soon. I should go back to greet her and finish my own paperwork of the day." He offed the detective a soft smile. "It was a pleasure to see you again, detective. Apologies if my questions felt too intrusive—"

"You wouldn't be first." Naomasa slapped him on the back and took an offered bear claw as the foxy officer passed them by. "Can I give you a ride? I'm an old man now, Midoriya's used to taking over the rest of my paperwork when I have to turn in early. I've got time."

Shoto took him up on the opportunity, taking a plain glazed when the box passed his way. He led the way to the elevator as Naomasa big the officers a good night, all waving him the same generosity. Midoriya did the same with a hollow complaint to the detective when the paperwork was mentioned. The last sight of the officials Shoto had before the doors closed was a moment of peaceful silence over their late night snack.

It was a kind precinct in opposition to the agent they worked with.

Shoto spent every second of silence in the car trying to figure out why.

Mina hated arguing with her friends, even if it was something they deserved to be yelled at.

She understood Bakugou's true intentions and meanings behind his harsh tone, and she knew Kiri only wanted to help him ease that tone into something far more acceptable in a public setting, but starting a fight in a bar wasn't heroic of either of them. It was completely Bakugou's fault for initiating it with a civilian through easily demeaning comments, and all Kirishima had done was protect the blond from a second sock to the jaw. Blocking it with his quirk and breaking the man's hand, however, was not what he should have done, after all the training and work had done to teach them how to properly disarm and pin someone down without drastic physical harm.

Of course police got involved to pick up their mess, one of the officers engaging Bakugou in a shouting match outside the bar about manners. Mina had taken the cop's side while Kirishima stuck to the defensive role again and worked his best to get the explosive blond to shut up and let him apologize on his behalf; god forbid Bakugou bites back on his ego. She was only relieved that the civilian didn't press charges for his hand being broken, given he threw the first punch. Instead, the man got his hand healed and after a few choice words between himself and Bakugou he left.

Mina followed suit on foot, leaving Kirishima alone to take the blond home in his car and kindly refusing the offer from an officer to drive her home. The lines would lead her home just fine, and she needed to calm herself down and not bounce complaints off with someone agreeing with her. Walking alone would give her time to breathe and move on; let her mind wander onto something else and ease off the tension her friends had brought along.

Instead of that, her thoughts left her sulking on a bench as the wrong bullet trains zoomed by.

She hated being an adult, giving up so much she enjoyed when young to be the hero she was now. Free-time to travel, connections with old classmates and friends, seeing her own family; plenty of her joys were sacrificed so she could pursue her dream of heroics. Vacations and long trips happened maybe thrice a year. She'd gone from a bustling people person to confining in a small group of six in most anything. If she did see her family, it was through her phone or computer, face-timing from her office or apartment six districts away from her parents' home.

She was a serious hero now, even with her bubbly persona and attitude in public. The rose-tinted glasses that she wore, viewing heroic work as a fun game, were ripped from her face barely two weeks in to high school, and time after time was she slapped in the face by the reality of the job. It did nothing to stall her – throw her off her feet and send her running home in tears – but instead carved her dream into a serious pursuit and chiseled her fear into hope. Left in that rubble was her tendency to tease and play, the desire to slack and relax when she should be training and studying. She thought her whole class as friends – par one sulky dual colored boy and a purple gremlin, with Bakugou teetering the line by the day – but the amount of them she would spend time with outside of class dwindled to a select few.

How she missed her freedom. Had she known growing up would cut away at the hours in the day she would have stayed 5 forever. The only thing she had to worry about then was if her classmates would think her horns were as cool as her mommy said they were when they started to curve around. She wondered if she told her mother she loved her enough times for her to believe it.

"I don't think I've seen a day where the Pink Queen wasn't smiling wide and striking a pose atop a car." The commentator beside her had Mina roll her head over, finding a green-haired guy in a trench coat standing by the opposite side of the bench. "Used to seeing you shine brighter than Invisalign when she refracts the sun."

Oh, a hero fan. Mina wasn't used to hearing Toru's field name since they joined different agencies. The alias was far more mature than what she first made at U.A., and Mina was proud to hear something cooler.

The pink woman smiled in what she hoped was a convincing manner. "Yeah, well, kicking butt on the field is far more thrilling than mulling about the fate of adulthood and immature friends who can't grow up."

"Oh god, I thought I was alone in that." The man plopped down on the other end of the bench, throwing his head back with a small smile of his own. Guess her tricked worked. "Honestly, unless I'm working, everything feels like a struggle to get through. All my body wants to do when I get home is sleep, but this wants to catch up on the news and check the day I missed out on." His fingers drummed his head as he mock-pouted. Mina found the action soothing atop being funny. "Besides, I still got paperwork to do but I'm not risking a late train ride."

"If I could, I'd give you some of my day," she mumbled over her shoulder. "I think I've lived too much of it today. My friends probably took another year of my life with their dumb actions tonight."

The man winched in sympathy. "That bad? Worst my co-workers get is breaking down my door and postponing my reports for the day. That stuff eats up my time like a plastic hippo."

Mina felt herself cracking up under the arm she used to mask her mouth. "That's a good one," she giggled through her jacket. "Not one I've heard before."

A train zoomed by them on the track, the man waiting to respond until it passed and the sound died down. "It's one my boss uses 'cuz he's old. He's the only one in the precinct who owns one of those things still. I'm pretty sure it's been sitting in his desk for the past four years; he rarely empties that thing."

"Oh, 'precinct?' You're a cop?" She gave the jade-haired man an once-over. She rarely met with officers off the clock, and even then barely chatted with any on, during or off missions they were assigned to. The ones she had met just earlier were quite standout-ish even in uniform, though, and he looked as normal as any other civilian. Did all cops dress so plainly off the clock?

"Detective, actually," he clarified. "I just work with the Minato District officials most of my time. Get thrown around a lot if I'm called for though. It's a pretty hectic job."

"You're telling me," Mina huffed and sunk lower on the bench. "Having to run across Japan because my acid is needed for a job is such a chore. I'm not the only person able to erode through surfaces, but god forbid Rust Iron puts a photoshoot on hold. The absurdity of it all." It was almost insulting how other heroes spent their time on the clock off the field, while she put the effort to keep both things separate on the clock.

"If it means anything, I'm happy we had someone like you on the job. Every time I see you on the news, you're serious about what you do. I'd take a mindset like yours any day. Thank you for going out of your way to be there."

Ashido smiled at the sincerity of his words. "Thanks, detective. That means a lot to hear." A comfortable silence fell between the two before she leaned towards the green-haired gentleman with her arms cross. "And I just realized I haven't gotten a name out of you, yet you already know mine."

The detective blinked a moment before jolting in his seat. "Ah, right. I'm sorry I forgot. Got excited to meet another hero. Midoriya Izuku. It's a pleasure to meet you, Ashido…?"

"Mina." The pink hero shook the man's offered hand. "Surprised you didn't know that already."

"Papers don't often include it." Midoriya looked over to the rails as a train zipped past them. "Where are you taking a train to? Living away from work like I do?"

"I live near my work. Northern Saitama prefecture. 'Friends' called me down here for a night of drinks and gossip since Eiji works down here and we haven't hung out in a while. You?"

"Musutafu, which" – he nodded the glowing signs above the rails – "should be the next train stopping by. My mom lives there still, and I'm close by. Been trying to look out for her since I moved out and got my job. Wish I had more to offer at Sunday dinner than all my missing people's cases."

"Aw, that's sweet of you." Mina squished her cheek against her shoulder for added effect, and Midoriya chuckled at the display. "I try doing the same for my own parents, but I'm living districts away from them now. Is it possible to work too hard? To spend too much time on the job, even with so many other people working with you?"

It troubled Mina somewhat when Midoriya's smile dropped in his silence. His hands fiddled with the stack of folders on his lap and his eyes darted everywhere but to hers. He didn't look uncomfortable, according to his expression; more placid than she would have expected, honestly. He kept the face when he looked to her again. "Are jobs are for protecting people, aren't they? We're doing what we can for the good of everyone. I don't think you could ever spend too much time being someone – or everyone's – hero. Not until what we fight finally gives up." His eyes dropped to the side. "Then again, my boss calls me a workaholic, so I might be biased. But my point still stands. Just because you have someone by your side doesn't mean you should try any less at what you do."

The Pink Queen relaxed at his answer, finding warmth in someone's justifications of her choices. "Doesn't mean I can't spend some time being normal with the people I care about, right?"

The detective shrugged. "You're gonna have to ask someone with more people to turn to than I do. All my friends are my work buddies, and all I got aside from them is my mom. Don't have much else to balance out with equal time. I'm just trying to do everyone right." The screeching of tracks alerted the two law officials of the stopping train, one that Midoriya stood for as the doors opened. "And that's my queue to go back to it. It's been an honor to meet you, Pink Queen—"

"You can call me Ashido," she brushed his hospitality away with a smile. "We're both off the clock. Nice to chat with ya, Midoriya. Have a good night."

"You too. If we meet again, I'm hoping it's off the clock." The green-haired detective crossed his fingers as he stepped inside the train cart. "Here's to hoping." The man gave one last wave before the doors closed and the train went speeding off.

Mina hummed away a tune she heard on the radio as silence fell over her again, the only one at the tracks waiting for her train to stop by.

Least now she didn't feel so alone in her desires.

Izuku spent the majority of his train ride home reading over the profiles of the two men their precinct had apprehended earlier, mixed together with the brief reports the officers had handed him before he left for the night. Seichō Sentoa and Teru Soda had a hell of a case before them, the latter especially. Seichō had a recorded history of quirk misuse and common street fights, but Teru was nothing but a man facing low odds in the recent weeks. Only problem was the inclusion of Trigger, the quirk-enhancing drug, only used by the salary man; why he had resorted to the drug after a clean life and blood record was something they would have to work out in interrogation. Yō had mentioned he seemed completely willing to lash around his quirk, so the case he was forced into using it probably wouldn't fly in court.

Looking over the play-by-play written by his coworkers only tired him more. He already had a call out for a child who ran away from home; an important case already demanding his time. But then he got a call that a well-known villain had been busted out of his cell and would be approachable. Then their precinct got a call from one of the men they had apprehended earlier (Izuku assumed Seichō) that they had taken several civilians hostage and were demanding a ransom to let them go or they'd be picked off. It was a dumb plan, grabbing random people off the street, holding them hostage in a recently vacated apartment complex in broad daylight, not having a plan for people who tried to sneak in or just having a means of escape in general, not unless they took a hostage into a car with them and threatened their life; even then, there were heroes who had dealt with those exact same scenarios from newcomers to the life of crime and emerged victorious in saving lives. This was a plan with a long-time villain in its cast. Why the hell would he agree to such a stupid plan?

His phone buzzed away in his pocket and he answered before reading the screen. "Midoriya Izuku speaking. How can I help you?"

"Depends," a gruff, low voice responded, "the old man give you the power to revert time and undo your mistakes?"

Izuku took a brief look around the tram cart he was in, ensuring he was the only one in it before he responded. "Don't know what you're talking about, Giran. I did my job to a T."

"You killed a client. I thought the deal was to keep Gu alive?"

"And I thought Trigger was off the market. That drug was busted out of this country long ago. How did it get back around?"

The man over the line grunted. "Overseas, I'd presume. Ingredients are hard to come by and cooking that crap in their garage would surely get them arrested before they could put it out there."

Izuku gazed blankly out the window, to the world zooming past him. "Yeah, well Teru just lost his garage and Seichō nor Gu had one of their own to begin with. Who should I be briefed about if they're pulling in international enhancements?"

"Don't know." The line cracked between Giran's words. "I haven't heard of anyone else looking at the market. Business has been far more manageable not having to deal with people throwing their weight around all drugged up. Least those you keep alive."

"Had I not killed him, he would have severely damaged the hero on the scene, and I would have been held accountable for not taking the shot and saving his life or at least his motor functions. You know of my reputation with the news already; got an image to keep up."

The world before his eyes slowed down until he came to a jolt halt and other people started shuffling into the cart around him. The crowd had Izuku pulling his body closer in. "You're not alone?" Giran asked over the call.

"Not anymore. Taking the tram home tonight."

"And yet you answered my call?"

"To be honest I thought you were gonna call after my interviews." Izuku gave a smile to the girl who looked his way a second before turning back to her group. "I'll have all the information you'll need ready in…let's say three days. Let you know if these two are good clients are not. The big one is probably the only one Sensei will want listed."

"I'll make note. I expect you to deliver."

Izuku cracked a smile the other couldn't see. "You're giving me your job too? That's very kind."

"Least you actually offer something. Have anything for me now? That target you've been creating a profile for?"

"Coming up short, sadly." Project after project was stacked on his shoulders; his own fault really. Finding sensei's last existing "relative" was one he put himself up for years ago. Putting a pin on it was a fate glowing more dim by the day, and it hurt his detective pride watching it always fail. "Pretty well kept. Probably the only one giving me trouble, real trouble. Sensei got any ideas of his own?"

"I'll check with him again. Old cot won't move. They won't let him." Tartarus security does that to a man. "Getting responses out of the guy isn't as easy anymore."

"Just let him know everything's fine," Izuku instructed, gathering his belongings as the tram came to a stop and hopping out the doors. "We've got a roster plenty. Competition's dwindling by the day. His hopes are going accordingly. He has nothing to worry about."

"Mind shortening that for a 2 by 2 note?"

"Be proud. Goodnight, Giran." Izuku hung up before the older man could respond and sent Naomasa a quick test shoved his phone back into his pocket. Walking home was a nice and simple workout. Quiet, too, with so little traffic ever passing him by on the way. Any time to be to himself was time he would use. He fiddled with the folders under his arm, peaking at the names on each paper and making mental notes of each person: heroes, villains, criminals and cops alike.

For every job pushed into his hands, he put another one atop it. Every criminal to capture was another potential member to the roster. Every hero was an obstacle course to talk with, never to slip up with his opinions and answers. He had two bosses to work under the orders of; two men to report to with a middle man to go through. He was his own boss, too, with tasks of his own to do when he worked for Naomasa and Sensei. Tired as the workload would leave him, there was no one else he could trust for the full job.

Sensei chose him for a job, and Naomasa hired him for another, but only he knew what he was working for.

"Without power, can one become a hero? No, I should think not."

Izuku wanted to scream, or cry. The lanky man in front of him bore blue eyes in a void of darkness into Izuku's chest. His apple slice of a mouth flattened with each passing second of silence, each ticking and picking away at his heart and his hope.

The skeletal man stood slowly, the blowing winds, city cars and chirping birds carrying the sound between them as he turned away from the boy. "If you desire to help people, becoming a police officer is always an option," he offered to the kid. "Those Villain Custody Officers are often mocked, but that too is admirable work."

Izuku was tuning him out but every word still reached his ears. The shuffling of his clothes and his feet rung louder than they should. The world ten stories below them buzzed in his ears and shook him to the core. The world around him was tilting, inching him closer to the gate on the building's ledge.

"If you think you'll have a quirk in your next life...go take a swan-dive off the roof!"

"It's not wrong to dream," All-Might informed him as he opened the roof-access door to the building, "however, you need to be realistic, kid."

"Ah..." The door behind the number one hero in the world slammed closed from the wind, leaving Izuku alone at the high altitude, staring down the bar that kept him from strolling off and taking the fast way down. "So that's it then..."

Izuku had hoped he could one day become a hero equal to the symbol of peace. He held onto that hope when the doctor told him he didn't have a quirk. He held onto that hope when his mother thought he could never fulfill his dream. He held onto that hope when his classmates belittled him for being quirkless. He held onto that hope when Kacchan turned on him and bullied him for believing he could ever live his dream.

Now that his idol - the one man in the world he thought he could trust - had followed suit and told him to call it quits, what point was there in going forward with it now?

"A shame how far and forgotten my brother's will has gone," a deep voice echoed in. Izuku snapped his head up and around the rooftop, finding no signs of anyone else present. "Quite a shame how bastardized his vision has become. And to take it out on a child, no less. What would he think of this?"

Izuku opened his mouth to respond but he didn't hear his own voice. A bird flew past his head and he couldn't hear the chirps from its beak. The streets below had gone silent. The wind around him had gone still. The explosion in the distance went off without even a boom. Izuku opened his mouth to scream but he didn't know if anyone could hear him.

"The world has treated you so wrongly. Done you injustice. Put you down like a wounded dog. But I have a proposition for you; a purpose for you."

The floor beneath Izuku was gone and he was sent falling down.

"I have a job for you, Midoriya Izuku."