Chapter Text
The victims couldn’t remember anything. The ones who had been left alive, anyway.
You sighed, tapping a fingertip idly against your desktop as you stared blankly at the notes on your computer screen. The fact that no one could remember who the perpetrator was, what they looked like, or even anything that had happened during that window of time was extremely unhelpful, and gave you almost no leads to go on.
You’d spent the better part of last week combing through CCTV footage surrounding both the museum and the bank, but nothing had proved decisive. There had been crowds of thousands going in and out of the museum, eager to see a new exhibit on historical wedding jewels, and as far as you could tell, everyone who had entered the grounds was accounted for, either dead or alive. It was much the same for the bank.
Footage from inside both buildings had been summarily destroyed, so there was no telling what had happened inside either. All you knew was that at both locations on two different days, it had been business as usual. Then the buildings had been robbed, five people had turned up dead, and scores more had lost upwards of thirty minutes.
The people who had died all appeared to have committed suicide--one leaping out a window from the top of the museum exhibit hall, another choking himself to death with his tie. There were no fingerprints, no weapons, no memories, nothing you could work off of.
It all pointed to a mind-altering quirk.
You’d pulled as many records as you could, spent the entire weekend scurrying around the courts in order to get as many restrictions lifted as possible, and ended up with a list of only twenty people, when you knew there were hundreds more. It was nearly impossible to get access to information on people’s quirks, even more so to get access to files on those who possessed abilities like this, due to the sensitive nature of their powers.
It made sense, given the kind of discrimination that could take place based on that information alone, but it was still infuriating, knowing the culprit could be in any one of those hundreds of files you’d been unable to get ahold of.
You’d done your best to follow up on what you had been able to get, however, researching the background of every person whose documents you'd been allowed access to. You’d been in the middle of one of the few files, nursing a coffee and something like a migraine, when a manila folder slapped you in the back.
“Captain wants you in his office,” your coworker Aya said, chuckling when you startled and spilled coffee onto your keyboard.
You whipped around in your chair to stare at her accusingly. “You did that on purpose.”
She flashed you a cheeky grin. “You’ve been wandering around the precinct like a zombie for days. You need some livening up.”
You honestly just wanted some livening down, for this case to solve itself and for you to be able to sleep for a week. But you didn’t say as much, digging a box of kleenex out of your file cabinet and sopping up the rivers of dark coffee pooling in between your keys.
“Captain was in a mood, so I recommend you pick up the pace,” she said, and you sighed, climbing out of your chair and throwing on your jacket. The captain always kept his office at a temperature only a polar ice cap might find suitable, and you needed to be properly equipped if this turned out to be more than a quick chat.
Aya’s theory was that he kept it so cold in there to dampen the burning hatefire of rage within him. You just thought his alien species preferred an icy freeze like that of space.
You hurried into the stairwell and down a fluorescent hall, stopping just outside a tall oak door with a little carved plaque that read Noriyasu Nagumo, Captain. You tapped twice, and the door opened inward immediately like someone had been waiting for you just on the other side.
Which, you discovered as you stepped inside, they had been.
A man with unruly indigo hair stood just inside the door, looking you over with a somewhat indifferent expression. He was tall, nearly lean, strapped with sleek muscle that was almost imperceptible through the black of his jumpsuit, and he wore a long scarf and dark, mask-like device at his neck. His eyes were an even deeper purple than his hair, giving his appearance an almost fey quality, and they were bright with a keen watchfulness that felt at odds with his disinterested look.
He was very striking, and you might have thought him handsome if it weren’t for the deep shadows beneath his eyes, or the strange sensation that washed over you as you looked at him, a prickle of feeling that told you there was something more to him than was plainly visible.
A sense of foreboding settled in your stomach as you registered his black jumpsuit, boots, and the strangeness of the items around his neck. It all screamed hero costume, and your mood immediately took a nose dive. You'd worked with heroes before, and it was hardly an experience you wanted to repeat.
At the other end of the room, your captain sat behind his heavy desk, a dark eyebrow raised and a stern look on his weathered features.
“You’re late,” he said by way of a greeting.
You glanced between the two men in question. “I came as fast as I could. Am I interrupting a meeting?”
The captain shook his head, gesturing both you and the purple-haired man to the chairs in front of his desk.
You took a seat, scooting imperceptibly farther from the man when he sat down next to you. Something about him raised your hackles, an aura of subtle command that made you feel like a cat whose fur had been brushed backwards. Coupled with his dismissive expression, you could already sense he was bad news.
“This is Hitoshi Shinsou,” the captain said, indicating the purple-haired man. “Shinsou is a hero on loan from the Public Safety Commission.”
You gave him a cursory once over. You’d never heard of him.
“Shinsou, this is Y/N, one of my investigators,” he continued. “She’s working on the museum and bank heist case we discussed earlier.”
This put you on edge. “What does he have to do with my case?” you asked warily. You’d been on at least three investigations with heroes before, and you knew all too well how things went. You didn’t need some asshole to contribute absolutely nothing to the case and swoop in at the last second to grab all the credit.
“Shinsou is being added as a resource to this case,” Captain Nagumo said. “You will operate as if he were co-lead on this investigation.”
Oh hell no. This case was especially complex and the last thing you needed was to slow down and onboard some random hero, just so he could muck about and up his credentials. People's actual lives were at stake here.
Your nails bit into your palms, and Shinsou smirked as if he knew what you were thinking. “Captain, with all due respect, there is nothing that indicates the need for a secondary lead on this assignment.”
The captain fixed you with a disinterested look. “And yet here you have one. Now that I’ve made introductions, please get Shinsou up to speed on your progress.”
"I can work faster on this alone," you argued. "How about we call Shinsou in when I've found something and he can help with the apprehension?"
Captain Nagumo's face went still. "This is not a request. Shinsou will be working this case with you."
You opened your mouth to argue, but the captain’s look shifted into something angrier and your teeth clacked together. There was a reason Aya spoke so openly about his inner hatefire--his temper was the stuff of legend. At least once a day the hallways echoed with the sound of his screaming, and you swore you'd once caught him suspending an officer for looking at him the wrong way. You’d gotten off easy with him so far, buoyed by your excellent track record, but the look he was giving you told you that could quickly change.
Shinsou leaned forward, and your eye darted to him quickly. “Why don’t you bring me to your desk and show me what you were working on?”
His voice was low, smooth, and strangely compelling. You found yourself entirely distracted from the captain's darkening mood, opening your mouth to reply before you could think better of it.
“I--,” you began. There was a small pause, then your temper caught back up with you. You exhaled through your nose. “Fine,” you said, climbing to your feet and heading for the door without a look backwards. “If you don’t want to get left behind, let’s go.”
You heard the scrape of a chair as Shinsou stood to follow you, a murmur as he bade farewell to the captain. Then he exited the office after you and shut the door quietly behind himself. You turned down the hall, walking briskly, like with any luck you could leave him in your dust, but he caught up easily enough, keeping pace with his long legs.
“How much did Captain Nagumo tell you about the case already?” you asked as you led the way up the stairs, taking a calming breath to soothe yourself. Professional, you could be professional. You'd managed it with all the heroes before.
“Not too much,” Shinsou replied in his low drawl. “Just that there had been break ins, multiple suicides, and a lot of missing memories.”
You pushed open the door to your floor and gestured him through, then stalked over to your desk. It had previously been a point of pride for you that your workspace was clean, devoid of the mountains of paperwork that cluttered everyone else’s because you knew how to keep on top of your reports, but in the last week, your desk had slowly started to amass a small tower of files not unlike those on the surrounding desks.
You shoved a bunch of files over and dragged over a chair from the staff conference table. “Sit and let’s chat, then.”
He dropped into the chair, legs stretched out in front of him, and you sat across from him.
“So why did they send you?” you asked.
Those purple eyes flicked over you. “To help.”
You suppressed an eye roll. Very informative. Some huge help this guy was already proving to be. “Obviously, but why you? What interest does the Public Safety Commission have in this case?”
He rolled a shoulder. “Dozens of people show up without their memories, and you think the police force can handle this without help? I'm here to provide support.”
He had a point but that still answered like zero of your questions. “So why you, specifically? What are you bringing to this case?”
A slow smirk made its way across his mouth. “My good looks and big brain.”
Your headache from earlier made a brief showing at your temples, and your small puddle of patience began to dry up. So this was how it was going to be.
“Fascinating. Well that will be a huge help, no doubt. Good thing they sent you.”
Shinsou's smile widened. “You don’t think much of me, do you?”
You eyed him irritably. “Listen, I don't mean to disrespect your profession. Heroes are great and totally needed for patrols and raids. When it comes to investigations, though, you slow things down, and I don't have time for you to hold things up.”
As you spoke, there was a sudden, small tug at the back of your mind, like a thought on the edge of resurfacing. You stopped short, brow furrowing. Had you forgotten something urgent?
Shinsou raised a dark eyebrow, pulling your attention back to him. “Is that so?” he asked.
Something like dry amusement layered in his tone, and the rest of your patience vanished. Was his quirk raising blood to a boil? If so, he wielded it with unparalleled skill and dexterity.
“What’s your background?" you demanded. "And your quirk? I’m assuming they didn't add you to this case for your charm and social grace.”
He smirked again. “I’m afraid that’s above your clearance level.”
Your stared at him in disbelief. Above your clearance level? He had the gall to waltz in here and insert himself into your case, and then refused to give you any basic information like why he was here at all or what your expectations should be for his partnership? Christ, he was even worse than the other heroes you’d worked with. They, at least, had pretended at being friendly when stepping in to work with you. Shinsou was something else completely.
You felt your hand curl into a fist under your desk. “Fine then, let me guess. You're an emitter type -- astounding levels of absolute bullshit.”
He let out a surprised laugh and leaned forward, like you’d suddenly sparked his interest. “You’ve got quite the set of claws for such a little kitten.”
You didn’t know how it was possible to be getting this angry, but it was happening. “Then I suggest you work with me here, if you don’t want to get stuck with them, Shinsou.”
His eyes darkened and he considered you for a long moment. There was that gentle brush in your thoughts again, like you'd forgotten something, and your brow wrinkled. Before you could focus on it, however, the feeling was gone, and Shinsou was slowly leaning back in his chair. “Oh, I’ll work with you, kitten, but you’re not going to like what I have to say.”
“Try me,” you ground out.
“I’m here on behalf of the Commission,” he said firmly, “and my reasons for being here, my background, and my quirk are all information that is well above your security clearance. I work for the Commission, not you or your captain, and I will not be answering to you, operating on your orders, or sharing any information just because you think you deserve to know it.”
You stared at him. You could feel the little half moons your nails were leaving in your own skin but you couldn’t unclench your fist.
"You seem to think that heroes do nothing but stand around until they can grab the credit, which makes me think that you will try to hide elements of this case from me. I'll tell you just this once that you will cooperate with me to the best of your ability, or I will make sure you are taken off this case entirely," he said.
“Great,” you said, gritting your teeth. “Glad that I have a partner who I can know nothing about, can’t ask questions of, and can’t trust to give me the same courtesy I have to give them. I can’t think of any partnership set up for more success than this one.”
A wry smile curled the edge of his mouth. “Good. Glad we’re on the same page, then.”
You glared at him over the top of your files but he just stared back, unaffected.
Eventually you gave up, huffing, and shoved a file at him. “Fucking fine. We’ll start here. I’ll walk you through my theories and then you can read over the case files for the details.”
Shinsou took the folder from you in a slender, long-fingered hand. “Generous of you, kitten.”
You fixed him with a baleful gaze. “Don’t call me that.”
He said nothing, but the look on his face told you that you might as well be speaking to a brick wall for all the good it was going to do. He flipped open the cover of the folder and gave it a cursory inspection.
You rolled your eyes. Fine.
“We think it’s some kind of mind quirk,” you said, pointing to a line in the folder. “Either that or a team including some time-based quirk. The details are light, however, as no one can remember what’s happened to them in the time they’ve lost. The suicides make me think that even if there’s a time freeze quirk involved, there’s somebody else with some amount of mental manipulation in on the operation, since none of the people who died had anything other than self-imposed wounds.”
Shinsou nodded, his eyes skimming the page. “A lot of mind quirks could influence memory in different ways.”
You inclined your head in agreement. “I’ve been trying to track down people with mind-related quirks to see which types could be involved, but the courts are impossible to get around. I only have data on like twenty people who’ve previously been in trouble with the law, and none of them seem related to this case.”
Shinsou hummed low in his throat. “Why don’t you walk me through the details of each of the break ins, and then we can talk about what other avenues we might be able to take.”
You nodded again, and launched into an explanation. Over the next few hours you talked him through both the museum and the bank robberies, meticulously detailing all of the timelines, the victims, key witnesses, and locations. You covered all of the floor plans, the CCTV footage, the documents you’d collected, and the crime scene photos. Shinsou listened attentively and--surprisingly--asked intelligent follow up questions, your conversation taking you deep into the evening until your shift was almost over.
Eventually, Shinsou’s phone vibrated, and the rustle of the other investigators’ jackets brought you out of your bubble.
Shinsou stood, glancing at his phone. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, then, kitten,” he said.
You eyed him sourly, bad mood returning. “If my prayers go unanswered, then yes.”
He chuckled and pocketed his cell, lifting a vague hand at you in farewell. Then he was out the door, leaving you to stare after him in resentment.
Aya popped up at your elbow as soon as he'd gone, letting out a low whistle. “Who was that, Y/N? He was pretty cute.”
You scoffed, turning to your desk to gather up your things to head out to the train. “If you think demons plumbed from the depths of hell are cute, then sure. He's going to be hell to work with.”
Aya laughed, giving you a conspiratorial look. “I don’t know. I’d let him plumb my depths, if he wanted.”
You choked, and Aya chuckled again before waving herself off. “You should think about yours as well,” she called as she disappeared through the doorway. Her cackle echoed down the hall behind her.
You gawked after her, headache finally settling in behind your eyelids.
This was going to be a very, very long case.