Chapter 6: TV Blues
"Breaking news! My name is Hans Luechi, and I'll be your host for this afternoon! Last week, the Endeavor hero agency went up in flames- and it wasn't because of a fire related quirk!" The anchorman's smile never left his face.
"Due to a villain group hijacking the Musutafu monorail, the train was set on course to derail and crash directly into the number two hero's agency! I can only imagine what kind of leverage Endeavor's legal team are working with now!" He chuckled gracefully.
"There were eighteen villains involved with the incident in total, and each of them has been apprehended by law enforcement- all of them- except for one. The lead mastermind behind the suicidal operation, whose true identity still remains unknown, aptly goes by the mysterious name Shirai. Eye witness accounts described the man as he was last seen as, 'despondent,' and 'clearly in agony,' how no one was able to catch a guy looking like that, is beyond me.
Tragedy was averted in part thanks to bystanders alerting the authorities about the train's odd pathing- and a mysterious black and blue hero, who the police have confirmed to be a vigilante of some kind!" The anchorman exclaimed, appearing to be disappointed.
"Look, I get it! The speedster is definitely working without a proper license for quirk usage, but come on! With an amazing quirk like that- does he really need a license!? He rescued the lives of everyone on that train- even the villains who may or may not have deserved it…" A brief moment of contemplation.
"...Where were the pros when we needed them the most!? Where do we draw the line of when we should and shouldn't step in!? This is an important discussion, people- when the heroes aren't around, who is going to save you? If it were up to me, I'd let the supposed speedster vigilante go free! It was because of this law-breaker that no lives were lost! What, did you want him to stop the train, too!?" The man concluded his rant by aggressively shuffling the papers on his desk.
The camera angle begins to shift away from the anchorman as he theatrically announced;
"Speaking of hitting the brakes! We have the leading conductor from the very same train which currently lies embedded in the destroyed Endeavor agency- Mr. Ustaku- is it ok if I call you that?"
"Yes, that's quite a'right. Also uh, thanks for havin' me on the show." The bearded man rumbled with his thick accent, shifting his crutches off to the side while he found a comfortable seating position.
"Now, I don't want to force you to relive such an obviously traumatic experience, but if you could do us a favor and fill us in on what was going on inside the train conductors cabin, or at the very least, what was going on inside your head before everything went downhill, we'd greatly appreciate it." He folded his hands and placed them in his lap, while crossing his legs.
'Well I didn't come here to talk about anything else.' Mr. Ustaku thought dryly, trying not to look straight at the camera which was currently zooming in on him.
"I sure can, Luechi. I was taking over the conducting job for my coworker, you know, signing in and getting myself situated by the control console- when a group of men, dressed in black military grade armor?— but I don't know for sure, that's what it looked like to me, anyway..." He stroked his beard thoughtfully, then continued;
"...I knew something was up. No one other than train station personnel are allowed in the conductor's cabin. I tried to hit the emergency alert button- but one of em pointed a gun at me, and I- I hesitated. That's all it took, and from there I assume they went from car to car-" He began to mutter, as the misplaced guilt for what happened started to manifest as the man's latent silence.
"Excuse me? I don't believe I caught that?"
"Huh? Oh. Sorry, didn't mean to get off track like that-"
"Hah! Off-track! I love this guy!"
"...Right. So, after the, you know, threatenin' my life part, Shirai had one of his goons stay with him and watch over me while I signaled the railroad transitions. The guy must've been experienced with trains because I actually tried to go off our intended route once-"
"-You did!?" Luechi gasped dramatically.
"-Yeah, and he smacked me and told me to reverse it or I would regret it." He subconsciously rubbed the area of his lip where he'd been struck. "Pretty soon after that I realized they were only keeping me alive so I could be hostage bait. If they had someone who knew how trains worked, why would they have needed me?"
Luechi nodded in agreement.
"That's a good point. You're lucky to be alive today, Mr. Ustaku."
"Aye." He nodded in return.
"Mr. Ustaku- can you recall the exact moment you saw the blue vigilante arrive?" The anchorman leaned in, practically foaming at the mouth for any potential new information on said vigilante.
"To be perfectly honest with you, I was more focused on the bullet in my leg rather than what was going on around me at the time… but I do remember a few things." He sighed.
"The first thing he did was check to see if I was a'right. 'Course I wasn't but that's not what matters. I think we were both surprised when Shirai showed up, he'd been so quiet up until then I damn near forgot he was in the same cabin as I was. He had the gun right in his face too… and he didn't take the shot."
"What? You're telling me Shirai, the evil mastermind behind this thankfully failed suicide mission, didn't take out the hero when he had the chance? Don't tell me he actually monologued?"
"He monologued." Mr. Ustaku confirmed, shrugging indifferently.
"Wow." Luechi stopped and looked around the studio, and speaking to his colleagues just saying:
"Wow."
He expressively returned his focus on Mr. Ustaku, who was beginning to wonder why he agreed to come on and do this show. Live— and in front of thousands of people.
"So what happened next?" He not so subtly kept turning to the cameras and audience, as if worried they might riot if the story he previously promised them wasn't entertaining somehow.
"...He introduced himself as Shirai- and that's when- oh! I remember now!"
"Remember what?"
"Slipstream! That's what he called himself! The blue hero!" Mr. Ustaku declared happily.
A couple seconds passed where it looked like Luechi had been frozen in time. He simply stared ahead unflinchingly, and eyes oddly hooded— until suddenly— he shot straight up, knocking his desk over a couple feet, before impressively jumping on it. He almost slipped on his stack of papers but he willed himself to stay balanced. Uncaring of how he may have appeared, he blared:
"SLIPSTREAM! THATS THE BLUE VIGILANTES NAME EVERYBODY! SLIPSTREAM! YOU HEARD IT HERE FIRST: C.B. NEWS AT TWELVE— SHORT FOR CHERRY BLOSSOM NEWS AT TWELVE! AND I'M HANS LUECHI! HAVE A GREAT AFTERNOON JAPAN! He yelled every word with equal amounts of unrepentant energy.
"YE-HA, BABY! WOO! SLIPSTREAM! SLIPSTREe- !" The anchorman's voice was sliced in half by Izuku shutting the power off to the TV.
"-I think that might be enough TV for me today." Izuku shook his head, now officially weirded out beyond comprehension.
While it didn't surprise him that the name of his speedy transformation had leaked out (he figured it would happen eventually), what did catch him off guard, however, was how fast people would begin to pick up on this and run with it. He browsed forums on just about every quirk theory and hero analysis website or linked articles he could find based on him as Slipstream, and there were a LOT of them.
So given his current circumstances regarding his health— he naturally took to reading every single one of them. The first and most obvious thing to point out was that no footage from inside the train was available— how could it be when it all got destroyed in the crash? No, the speculation was derived from footage of him from when he was outside the train. He couldn't be too upset given that there was nothing that could be done to salvage the leftover recordings— but it did present him with a tiny dilemma.
He had no reference to study his combat ability. Sure, he did technically fight Kamui Woods, but as Jellytronic he phased through any potentially harmful attacks. There was also the sludge villain that he fought— twice? The second time he had been a lot more successful, but All Might had been there to save him. Also both times. Yes, he has technically been in fights in school— but those are normally one-sided affairs, and they don't lead to anything of importance.
He has also been caught in a few more explosions than he would've liked thus far prior to entering his possible future career as a pro hero but beggars couldn't be choosers, and a temperamental blonde wasn't high on his list of priorities. Not now, at least.
Jiro had given him her phone number a week ago, and ever since then they texted each other regularly. Initially, it had been about things like what happened on the train, about the Omnitrix, and other more 'grainy' topics. But as the days rolled by, their conversations set sail for more hobby centric things (even though his thing was pretty much just heroes).
Jiro loved music— yeah he'd gathered that much based on her talking about her instruments— and specifically rock. Instruments that included the guitar, drums, piano, saxophone, and even the flute! Maybe that's in the wrong order of impressiveness but he didn't care! He was simply in awe that he made friends with someone so talented.
…That was the other situation surrounding the punk girl. They were friends! As in, Izuku actually had another human being his age who treated him like a normal person, who wanted to interact with him— who is a girl— and it took a life or death experience in order for it to happen, but hey— it finally happened and he couldn't be happier!
It took her time to digest his story of how he acquired the Omnitrix and what it was capable of, but she eventually conceded that, and this is in her words, 'if quirks are a thing, then aliens and wizards and shit have to be real too.'
While he wouldn't put it quite like that, he did agree with her to some extent.
Sure, science was a great, useful tool to help figure out why things happen the way they do and essentially is a way of quantifying and compartmentalizing the world around us— but even that practice— that belief— isn't always enough. Because the fact is, not everything is explainable. Sometimes it may even be better not knowing.
Beyond revealing Slipstream to his mom, and then immediately de-transforming back only a couple seconds later— the women had promptly fainted. Even so, Inko Midoriya hadn't hesitated the slightest bit as she rushed about in the kitchen with haste rivalling that of his speedster body. She commanded him to get comfortable on the couch, leaving no room for debate as he did what he was told.
Startling him upon her return, he felt dizzy at the sight of more needles.
"Take your shirt off."
Insert confused staring.
"I know you're not a professional at this Izu, I have to check and make sure you didn't make any mistakes." A sharp glare, and he was scrambling to remove the garment from his skin.
"Ow, ah!" He hissed, as he inadvertently twisted enough to pull a stitch out of its socket.
"See what I mean." She deadpanned, reaching out to stroke her son's hair consolingly.
"Hah! Ouch, gah- yes! I get it! I really do!"
"Just making absolutely sure first."
"Making sure of what?"
"That I distracted you long enough for you to ignore the pain of me ripping out your stitches-"
"-Wait, whaAAAAAA-!"
That was the first time the Midoriya's ever got a noise complaint.
Following that night full of excitement, Izuku ended up divulging what happened with Tennyson and Paradox to his mom, who was understandably baffled by the information, but chose to go with it regardless. Seeing that her son's dreams of heroism were quite literally bound to his wrist, she had elected to make things better around their home. While she raced about, cooking some fabulous nutritional dishes, he couldn't help but wonder how lucky he was to have such an amazing mom that cared for him the way she did.
He'd been confined to the couch for the past week, which could be turned into a futon whenever he wanted so he could sleep ok with his side. His wound was healing remarkably fast, which were his mother's words, not his. It sure didn't feel like it was healing remarkably fast, but she already removed three stitches since Monday, so taking it from a professional, he had to accept it. His black eye had seemingly disappeared, leaving behind no trace it was ever there to begin with. At this rate, by Sunday night, he shouldn't have any stitches anymore. He suspected the increased healing factor was due to the Omnitrix trying everything in its power to keep its wielder alive.
During his week-long hiatus from school, he'd since developed a theory: The Omnitrix is living. Not in the literal sense, but more like it relied on a symbiotic relationship in order to thrive. His main argument being it wouldn't make sense for the injuries he received as aliens to transfer over to his human form. This means the Omnitrix isn't shielding him with his transformations— it meant the aliens truly were extensions of his own physical being. He got his stat boost— he just needed to learn how to adapt in time for the UA entrance exams which were a little under ten months away now.
The concept of transforming into various different alien species— while retaining the original user's mental acuity and even improving upon it in some aspects (e.g., Slipstream's hyperactive reflexes)— was perplexing. He wondered who created it and for what reason.
Which is why he didn't think it outside the realm of possibility that the same device that gave him super powers also could passively heal him faster than usual. According to his mom, while he was napping, the Omnitrix would flicker and hum— perhaps a reflection of his REM sleep? So if the Omnitrix was healing him at a heightened rate, why was Tennyson dying? Wouldn't the healing factor counteract any kind of sickness he had?
"I hope he's ok…" Izuku mumbled to himself sadly, recalling the teen's fragile state when he last saw him.
A rhythmic knock at the front door caused him to flinch, but before he could go answer it, his mom had already whizzed by him.
"Stay down mister! We can't have you straining yourself!" Inko scolded him, choosing to ignore her son's indignant response of disappointment.
"Fine." He grumbled.
He listened for the familiar sound of a lock being undone, alongside the creaky, rickety noise that accompanied their front door whenever it was opened.
"Izuku! The girl you told me about is here!" He heard his mom call from the doorway.
"Girl? Who-?" He trailed off, upon seeing who just entered, staring back at him with a strangely devious smirk.
"Hey Green. I was in the area and decided to stop by." She said as she lazily twirled a jack around her finger.
This was his first time seeing Jiro in clothes other than her Aldera uniform, and it was a stark contrast, to say the least. Her aesthetic screamed punk, as she wore a spiked black leather jacket, torn jeans along with combat boots. He couldn't see the full wording, but based on what he could see, she was wearing a purple deep dope shirt underneath her jacket. If he were being honest with himself, she kind of looked… really good.
"Something caught your eye?" She snickered, laughing as a vibrant blush exploded across his cheeks.
"S-sorry! I didn't mean to- I didn't know you were coming over!" His face felt like it was ready to burst into flames after being caught ogling at her so openly.
He suddenly became very aware of how much skin he was showing. He was shirtless, and save for the bandages that were wrapped around his side and torso, the only item he currently had on were his pajama bottoms.
"It's fine Greenie, I kind of invited myself in anyway. Hope you're cool with that?" She said as she slid onto the opposite end of the couch, crossing one leg over the other.
"I- I mean yeah, I'm cool with you being here, I just wished I had known ahead of time so I would at least be a little more decent."
She shrugged before answering, "I don't mind. Also it's not like you've got anything to hide under that lame uniform. You're built like, an actual piece of broccoli."
"Gee, thanks." He deadpanned at her, earning him a snort of amusement in return.
"I'm so glad you have a friend now, Izuku!" His mom stepped into the living room, reminding him of her presence.
"He sure does Mama-doriya!"
"Mama-doriya!?" He guffawed.
Inko raised a hand to her mouth, in a vain attempt to stifle her laughter.
"She's funny too!" She clapped, smiling brightly. "Would you like some tea, Jiro?" She offered kindly, while the punk girl politely shook her head.
"No thanks, but I appreciate you asking." The woman nodded while she strategically chose the next moment to subtly leave and allow her son and his friend (who was a girl) time to talk with each other without her hovering presence.
"So you've been sitting in here all week?" Jiro crossed her arms behind her head.
"Erm, I mean not all the time, but-"
"-Watching nothing but TV, too? Tsk, tsk. I thought you better than to rot your brain on purpose."
"Well there isn't much else to do when you're recovering from a gunshot wound without aid from a healing quirk."
"...You seem to be doing surprisingly fine, though. Better than I thought you'd be. What's with that?" She fixed him with a suspicious look.
He rubbed the back of his neck in habit as he explained;
"...About that- I think the Omnitrix heals me. Passively, that is. I shouldn't be in as good of shape as I am right now…" His eyes ghosted hers, "...comparatively speaking." She snorted at his choice of words.
"Sure, just add a healing factor on top of that list of superpowers you have now!"
"I'd hardly call it super, but I think it did its job well enough. That's why I'm still here." He blinked as she reached over him.
When she pulled back she waved the remote in front of his face.
"I bet you were watching more news about that crazy train mishap we were involved in."
"I mean you aren't wrong." He shrugged, ignoring the flare of pain it sent up his side.
She hit the power button and they were greeted by a news press conference. Initially, Izuku stared at the screen blankly, before he really digested what he was seeing. Why is he there?
"-Nezu, I would like to thank you on behalf of the citizens of Japan for agreeing to donate a large portion of your funds into better helping the community. Especially those workers associated with the rail system in this country who rally for law adjustment."
"You're very welcome! I've always seen the rail system as flawed, but no one took me seriously until now! It's funny how things work out!" The principal of UA chirped, smiling idly.
"You there! In the maroon jacket!" He called, pointing at a dot in the audience.
The targeted reporter stood unsurely for a second, before composing herself to ask the question she came here to have answered.
"Someone like you, Nezu, having such a cunning intellect, I was interested to hear your thoughts are on the blue vigilante-"
"Oh-ho! You mean Slipstream!" He spoke good-naturedly.
The reporter paused, considering his interruptive response—
"-The blue vigilante's name is Slipstream?"
Beside Izuku, he heard Jiro snort softly and comment, 'I wonder who that could be?'
"Yes. It was confirmed eight and a half minutes ago on C.B. News, short for Cherry Blossom News. With Hans Luechi." Nezu fitted his paws together.
"I see... well I was wondering what your thoughts on the- on Slipstream are. Considering what he did was unbelievable."
"I couldn't agree more! What he did was truly marvelous! If he got a license, he'd be a fine hero!"
"So in your eyes, you don't see him as a hero?" A female reporter inquired.
"In the eyes of the law- he isn't a hero. His actions, however, while illegal, are the epitome of heroism. I commend his efforts to take action and rescue everyone on the train. If we encounter him again, I assure you, we won't allow favoritism to cloud our judgement." In that moment the UA's principal looked more like a predator than a prey, as his tiny smile revealed his sharp teeth.
While to some it may have been obvious that the principal carried great respect— perhaps even admiration for Slipstream's heroics. For the boy who spent his whole life feeling eternally quirkless, the message impacted him differently. He focused solely on the facts that Nezu brought forth, rather than his praise. Izuku's attention didn't waver as the TV had its power shut off. Leaving only a dark, dull reflection of himself, staring back hauntingly.
"So I'm just a v-."
"-Izuku Midoriya, if you finish that sentence with villain, I will never forgive you." Jiro fixed him with a steely glare, causing him to gulp nervously.
"B-but what I did was illegal!" His eyes widened cartoonishly as he realized something.
"What am I going to do when I apply for UA!? It's not like I can't transform when I'm there! My identity will inevitably come out! Now that I'm a- a…" He fell into whispering.
She poked his shoulder with her jack.
"Hey. You're not a villain. If anyone tells you that you are, point me in their direction and I will personally kick their ass into the next universe over. UA, even when they figure out about what you did, would have to be run by idiots for them to turn you away for something like that. You're a good person, Green. Don't forget that."
His heart skipped a beat.
"Thank you. I don't know what I did to deserve such an amazing friend." It was all he could muster, as he was forced to wipe the small beads of liquid forming in the corners of his eyes.
Jiro saw this, though acted like she didn't, choosing not to comment, feeling that teasing him about crying would ruin the moment. She jumped slightly when he suddenly spoke up;
"Don't sell yourself short either, Jiro, because you were equally as brave as I was on that train- probably even more so than I was. I hope you didn't forget you saved my life, too."
Jiro felt a genuine smile tug at her lips, as she rolled her eyes.
'This guy, I swear!' She thought amusedly.
"How about a compromise; you stop having intense, moralistic battles about your own heroic actions, and I'll stop putting myself down in comparison to you? Deal?"
Izuku laughed as he felt her jack wrap lightly around his extended pinky digit.
"This is serious business, Green. A pinky-jack promise is sacred among the Jiro bloodline. If you break it, it's your head." She said with a tone of fake grave significance.
"I promise!" He chuckled as her jack loosened and returned to its normal position.
From around the corner, Inko watched, heart-squeezing and eyes glistening, as her baby boy interacted with a new friend. Now her dream of having grandchildren might actually come true! She just had to be patient, knowing all too well the difficulties and hardships that endanger young love.
…
Tomura Shigaraki's eyes glazed over the footage on screen, analyzing its contents frame for frame. This Slipstream guy was apparently not a licensed hero— currently recognized by the authorities as a vigilante— and there was nothing in the systems that detailed someone with a speed quirk on a level anywhere near this. If sensei got his hands on speed like that…
"Kurogiri." He rasped, breaking the silence of the bar.
"How may I be of service, Master Shigaraki?" The black mist villain gently set down the glass they'd been polishing.
Tomura's back was turned to the bartender as he slipped into a black hoodie. He opened his phone, scrolling until he found the doctor's contact. Pressing call, licking his chapped lips, he merely supplied:
"We have a speedster to hunt down."