Shinko's Pursuit

Chapter 28: The Move

Sup guys. Take a wild guess at whose having another depressive episode? I'll leave ya to that. So this is it for this week. I haven't even started the next chapter of WaT and this was done quickly cuz I felt I had to put something out for you guys. Y'all deserve it. So I have therapy in like ten minutes so Ima try and finish this up real quick. I really love all of you, you make my day just by reading your comments and looking at the votes. I'm sorry I haven't been writing as much, my wrists are still hurting and I found out that if I don't calm down with all the overexertion I could develop carpal tunnel syndrome. But ya here's this for the week. See ya later!

Enjoy~
________________________________

Shouta downed the shot glass (with the help of Hizashi who was, with bags under his eyes, drinking a beer) feeling the burn of alcohol on his tongue. He didn't know what was worse. The physical pain from his injuries or the phycological pain that started when he first saw the news.

He knew that he shouldn't be drinking right now. That he should be out looking for Shinko, or having another underground hero keep a lookout for the kid so they could get him to safety, but he was worn out. And grieving.

Shit.

The Crawler... he was... just a kid. A college student, but still a kid. Same with Pop☆Step.

Shouta knew what was happening. That many vigilantes and info-brokers being killed off in such a short amount of time. It was no coincidence. They were being targeted.

He also knew that Shinko wasn't an idiot. He'd most likely catch on and try and stay on the down low for a while.

One could only hope so.

He hadn't run into any of the remaining vigilantes in Masutafu. They all went underground and off the radar. Maybe Kuro and Droplet decided stop vigilantism? Maybe they had given up?

It was unlikely.

And that's what scared him.

Hizashi held up another and Shouta downed the next shot glass. The Crawler had been pretty chill with Hizashi. They usually did a patrol together once in a while. The news had hit pretty hard. They hadn't caught the villain(s?) that was responsible for it. Shouta didn't think they were even looking.

The Public Hero Safety Commission could suck ass, he knew for a fact that the commissioner had a certain dislike for vigilantes and always discouraged their actions. Even if she only ever actively sought out Kuro and Droplet, her distaste was clear.

But there was nothing. No villains have been caught by any vigilante in the last week.

Where were the rest?

That was the question plaguing his mind as Hizashi drove them home and they settled into bed.

___________________________________

Nezu walked beside the curly black haired teen who held his backpack close. Dirty and hole ridden clothes, burnt notebooks, a collapsable staff, throwing and hunting knifes, and the other weapons he could fit in the bag against his back. Nezu had offered to get him new notebooks, seeing as the ones he had were ripping at the seams, but the boy claimed they were sentimental.

Normally he wouldn't have allowed him to bring the weapons either, but they were in good quality and they didn't seem to need replacement.

Shuzenji had cleared the boy from the infirmary after the wound scarred over and he was no longer in pain. It was then that Nezu had to break the news to him about the new arrangements. Midoriya had taken it as well as to be expected. He wanted his freedom and his space.

Nezu hadn't budged on his decision. After a while the boy gave in and led him to the warehouse that he had been living in. It was better than he'd originally thought it would be. (Nezu was just glad that he wasn't sleeping in some alleyway). The floors were cleaned and despite the fact that the stairs leading to the walkway above were destroyed there was a built ladder that led to the top. Wood boards acted as a floor across the top where a beat up mattress and a pile of clothes were.

Small droplets of blood stained the wood, making his nose tingle.

Nezu hadn't asked about it.

After picking and choosing what could come and what had to stay, they left and headed back to Nezu's home.

The shipment of furniture he'd bought for the spare room would be there later in the evening. New clothes could be ordered as well. That way Midoriya wouldn't have had to go out in public so soon. If the boy decided he wanted to decorate, Nezu would give him money to go when he felt comfortable.

Despite popular opinion, and the opinion of his staff, Nezu didn't own a mansion. Yes, the school he owned was very large and practically everything about it was extravagant, but his living situation wasn't like that. He owned a slightly larger than average house not far from the school. Maybe three... but that was besides the point. It wasn't in an apartment complex, the steps to the front door were his and his alone. He had neighbors, sure, but they were neighbors that were almost never home. He made sure of that when he moved in.

He looked behind him at the boy who had his eyes on the ground in front of him with a concentrated but defeated look. Drawing in a deep sigh he led them up to the door and opened it. Midoriya was in one of his quieter moods. Nezu didn't think the boy would be talking for a while. Maybe he could get a chess game out of him? Later.

"Would you like something to eat, Midoriya-kun?" He prodded gently. It couldn't hurt to try. Midoriya shook his head gently and looked around the apartment in mute fascination. "It's not what you expected, is it?"

He earned another head shake.

"Let me show you to your room," Nezu padded in front of him to a large empty bedroom with freshly painted lime green walls. In just a few hours time, the room was then filled with pieces of furniture. A normal wooden bed on polished wood flooring and a large fluffy black carpet in the center room. The bedsheets were a grey and dark blue with a black comforter. A desk sat on the other side of the room with drawers and a shelf above for books. A nightstand at the bedside was the same color as the carpet and comforter. A larger bookshelf was in the corner of the room by the door, empty but would soon be filled with books. The window curtains were a dark blue to match the sheets.

It was the bedroom of a teenager. Nezu could only hope the teenager that was standing in the center of the room, looking around at his surroundings, would be able to be comfortable living here.