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“Just one more solid DJ Punch,” Yamada growled, his wild eyes fixated on Dr. Kyudai Garaki.
Snipe tightened the bear hug that pinned Yamada’s arms to his sides. “Easy, partner.”
“15 years later and Present Mic is as helpless as ever.” Garaki's own wild eyes met Yamada's as he let out an unhinged giggle.
Yamada lunged and Snipe dug in his heels. Thirteen jumped between the men, resting both their hands gently on Yamada's chest.
Yamada snarled without taking his eyes off Garaki. “Don't you dare try to tell me it isn't worth it, Kurose.”
Their visor flipped up to reveal a gentle smile. “We have to put suppressant cuffs on him in case he has multiple quirks. We know it will turn off his longevity quirk, though. He might not survive your punch.”
A feral grin spread across Yamada's face.
Thirteen rushed the rest of their thought out before Yamada could speak. “He's the only one that really understands the whole process. He might be our only chance to reach Shirakumo.”
The grin dropped away as quickly as it had appeared and he stopped straining against Snipe.
Yamada finally looked at Kurose. A nearly inaudible whimper escaped from the back of his throat.
A wince, so brief it could have gone unnoticed, flitted across Kurose's features. Yamada did notice, though. He flushed in shame.
I hurt Kurose. Yamada scolded himself. A lifetime of “too loud,” “too high pitch,” and “just too much,” and I still hurt everyone constantly.
Yamada lifted his hands and signed, “sorry.”
Kurose nodded to Snipe, who released him fully. Then they placed their hands over his and pushed them down. “None of that, Yamada. You're allowed to feel. Do you need to step back or step in?”
Yamada looked at them suspiciously. “Are you ‘rescue hero'-ing me right now?”
Kurose flipped their visor back down. Cheerily, they answered, “I couldn't possibly know what you're talking about!”
Yamada threw his head back and laughed.
Yamada's attention snapped back to Garaki as suppressant cuffs clicked into place. Snipe held Garaki firm as the doctor shrank into a weak old man.
Yamada tried not to looked disgusted at the Garaki as a person. Snipe's snort gave away that he failed.
Ugh. Where's Shō? I feel like a constantly spinning emotional roulette wheel.
Aizawa's steadying effect on him was well known. Their history with the doctor wasn't the only reason they were on this team together.
He stood up straighter and mentally shifted into Present Mic mode. “Of course I'm stepping in. How else do you think I ended up with 3 jobs, yo?”
“Excellent!” Kurose cheered. “With all the debris and damaged buildings, the city is probably unrecognizable. Can you guide people toward the shelters?”
He grinned, taking out his cell phone and plugging it into his directional speaker. “Oh, those civilians will definitely know WHERE THE PARTY IS AT!”
Thirteen shook their head good-naturedly.
He and Snipe found their way to the cluster of public buildings being rapidly repurposed as a general & medical triage, resource center, temporary housing, and holding cells for those arrested.
“It isn't a good plan to put this high-value of a target in a general holding pool, especially in this condition, but we can't contact anyone else.” Snipe sighed. “Am I really about to babysit this varmint?”
Yamada smirked at him. “He's not going anywhere. Just sit him on the curb. You can help me greet and direct civilians.”
He recorded his first couple prompts directing civilians to follow the music. After that he incorporated them into a playlist from the extensive music library saved on his phone.
He turned his focus to the people arriving. He was more than happy to take requests, give hugs, and generally provide a little lift around the rough situation. People who just wanted help and weren't ready for his pep gravitated toward Snipe. They made a surprisingly good team.
Nezu's chipper “HELLO!” nearly made him jump out of his skin. He was so absorbed in everything that he'd forgotten entirely about the long-silent communicator in his ear.
Garaki, also almost forgotten entirely, wheezed his laughter at Yamada's loud and undignified screech.
Yamada rolled his eyes at the man before resuming his smile and facing the teenager he'd been speaking with.
Yamada pointed back at his earpiece. “This just started working again. I bet your phone'll work again too, little listener! Call your family, but then check it. You don't wanna run out the battery if you don't have a way to charge it!”
“I’ve connected the comms of UA staff, plus Battle Fist and Ingenium, across the operation. Each of you, confirm your safety and any hero students assigned to you.”
Thank God Nezu figured out how to modulate his transmission volume.
The teen grinned and waved before running off. Yamada easily split his attention after years of teaching and radio work - chatting animatedly with someone new while still absorbing the transmissions.
“Let’s begin with the support teams, since most students were assigned to those,” Nezu chirped. “Battle Fist, report from the Gunga Rear Guard.”
Kendo replied using the firm ‘reporting in’ tone he'd taught in 1B's last applied heroics lesson. He'd have to praise her for it later. “No major injuries. The students helping with the advance guard's initial attack have all joined us. We're reassembled at triage. But I don't have eyes on Creati, Grape Juice, Pinky, Sugarman, or Red Riot.”
After a moment, Nezu spoke. Clearly he'd hoped to not have exceptions to track down in the first report. “I will add Creati, just a moment.”
Nezu's earpiece picked up the sounds of typing and clicking as he did so. In the meantime Yamada posed for a picture with a fan. He acted as though the fan was the celebrity while their brother snapped the photo.
Yaoyoruzu's signal was added - the sound of sobs.
Keep being the light, Yamada, he coached himself.
“Creati,” Nezu interrupted, low and smooth. “Are Grape Juice, Pinky, Sugarman, or Red Riot with you?”
A gasp and a beep.
Nezu is gifted at many things, but sometimes rough on communication skills. Why didn't he say something like “you're already live”?
A girl around 10 years old ran up to Yamada and pointed Mic's signature finger guns in his direction. He grabbed his own chest and took a few unsteady steps before falling onto his back.
Yamada lifted his head for a moment to wink at the girl. He went back to playing dead when she laughed.
“Apologies, we cannot hear you. I had already taken the liberty of activating your microphone.”
With another beep, Yaoyorozu spoke. “Yes, of course Ne- um, I mean, Mr. Principal.” Flustered. Yamada could help her with that. “We are all together. With Midnight-sensei.”
Nezu was quick to guide her forward. Maybe he was better at this than Yamada was giving him credit for. “Ah, I didn’t know she had separated from the advance guard. Are there injuries?”
Yamada kept up the shtick for an extra couple seconds. He'd admit to needing the reassurance about one of his oldest friends.
“All the students are fine. Midnight-sensei, when we found her –,” Yaoyorozu choked.
Yamada felt the girl grab his hand and attempt to pull him up, but he was fixated on the silence.
Say something, anything, his mind begged.
“She's gone, sir.”
Yamada felt like his head was underwater.
He was vaguely aware of Snipe coming over. Snipe even gave the girl some kind of excuse for his behavior that fit the little game, but it didn't really register.
Snipe's been pretty clutch today, he thought distantly.
Yamada could feel the need to scream building in his chest. He couldn't do that here. He'd cause even more structural damage and the buildings would fall.
I can't hurt people. I can't kill people, even accidentally. Not like with Oboro.
Yamada sat up on the sidewalk. He slowly and deliberately took off his directional speaker. Yamada placed it on the sidewalk while being careful not to jostle the connection to his phone. The music was keeping everyone else calm and happy.
Too much. Any time I hurt, it's too much. I can't hurt now.
He covered his mouth firmly with one hand, a tactile reminder to keep it all in. He closed his eyes and listened to the sounds of everyone's voices. The volume, the tone, the timbre. The words escaped him but the sensations were grounding.
Snipe tapped him on the shoulder after a while. Yamada opened his eyes to look at the man crouched in front of him.
“Can I getcha anything?”
One hand stayed frozen on his face. The other formed the sign name, “Sleepy Cat.”
Snipe lifted his mask. It was a rare occurrence. “Will you be okay to wait until Nezu's done with these reports? Then we can find Aizawa. Betcha he's wantin’ to see you too right now.”
Yamada thought for a moment. He assessed the burning in his chest, a little more manageable than before he'd lost himself in sounds. Then he nodded and tried to smile at Snipe with his eyes.
Snipe patted Yamada on the shoulder as he stood. As he turned, Snipe gave Garaki a hard glare.
Did I miss something? Bastard. Better start trying to “step in” again.
“Ectoplasm?”
“Receiving helipad lifts to Central Hospital since all my clones have my access to their UA health records. So far I’ve dispatched clones to Midoriya and Bakugo. We just got radioed that Todoroki and Iida are stable and en route.”
“Present Mic?”
Yamada swallowed hard, his shoulders creeping up toward his ears.
“Mic isn't talkin’,” Snipe said softly. “Not even a sound. Between wanting to have a go at that doc and the news about Midnight, I think he's afraid to lose control of his quirk.”
Yamada looked at the man and nodded gratefully.
So fucking clutch today, Yasu.
“He's listenin’ though, and he nodded at that.”
Nezu's answer was short and reserved. “Understood. Eraserhead?”
The silence stretched and Yamada's mind was perfectly happy filling it with worst case scenarios.
Nezu cleared his throat. “Eraserhead, please report.”
Yamada starts to hum softly. Maybe starting intentionally and letting it out a little at a time will let him keep control?
Anything to fill the godforsaken silence. Can't keep imagining a dual funeral.
“Manual, you’re on comms with my staff and several of UA's student leaders,” Nezu began.
“Oh, wow, I didn't realize that these were back online!” Manual interjected.
“They're not!” Nezu boasted. “But I'm very territorial about my humans, as you know, and I need your help locating one of my favorites.”
Manual chuckled nervously. “Yes, I remember after Stain's arrest. Who's the favorite human?”
“Eraserhead.”
“Oh. Ah, last I saw him, he was glowering at the field medics. ‘Get away from me,’ and ‘just do your job’ and ‘help the children first, the pros know what they signed up for’. That's how I ended up riding to Central Hospital along with a few of his students…”
Yamada smirked at Manual's oddly accurate imitation of Aizawa's flat affect. He let his hand fall to his lap in relief.
“Oh dear,” Nezu said with clear amusement. “That's our Eraser-kun. It seems he may have lost his communicator on the field.”
Manual made a skeptical hmph. “Or maybe abandoned it? I barely convinced him not to throw his ‘useless goddamn piece of trash’ just before he shoved me toward the helicopter. Did anyone check whether he was admitted here?”
Nezu's voice turned sharp as steel. “You did not mention that he was injured, Manual-san.”
“Ahhhh,” Manual said nervously.
Yamada's hand didn't stay away from his mouth for long.
No doubt he was imagining Nezu's sharpest teeth. I just hope it's not as bad as the USJ attack…
“Yes, his injuries were very serious. But someone told me that the area was cleared. He could be unconscious. Or maybe they took it out when he got here. I can ask?”
“The only way out of that location right now is by air. I've been at the helipad since we learned Midoriya was on his way,” Ectoplasm said solemnly. “Unless he was transported first…”
“He definitely wasn't,” Manual replied firmly.
Thirteen interrupted the silence. “Mr. Principal, is there a location report from Eraser's communicator?”
“Not since all communicators at the Jaku site malfunctioned,” Nezu said darkly. “I'm looking at other electronic records now. Perhaps he was taken to a different facility.”
Hospitals. He means hospitals. Only hospitals.
Nezu continued, “Cementos, did you deliver Nemuri to the Jaku site's mobile facilities?”
No point in sticking to her code name now that she's dead.
Cementos replied, “yes, and I directed the students to Snipe and Mic at the triage shelter. They should be there momentarily.”
Yamada looked around. Sure enough, the cluster of 1A students trudged down the street. Yaoyoruzu held a red domino mask tightly in one hand.
Nezu sounded pained when he spoke again. “Make sure that Eraserhead isn't there, please.”
“NO!!!!!”
Yamada realized belatedly that he had spoken. With quirk blazing. And he was back on his feet.
Yaoyorozu froze in the middle of the street, but Ashido continued forward.
“Mic-sensei?” Ashido's voice shook.
Yamada's hands grasped the sides of his head and he set off at a sprint.
Southwest, wasn't it?
As he entered the edges of the decay zone, where there are no more civilians to protect, he pressed his earpiece to make sure the microphone was off. He released a scream at the upper limits of his power, the heat and vibration of it leaving him dizzy.
Yamada tapped the earpiece again. “Coordinates!”
Snipe answered. “Where didya run off to, Yamada? Pinky's beside herself–”
“COORDINATES! GIVE ME HIS LAST COORDINATES!”
“These are quite outdated at this point,” Nezu qualified. “Turn another 10 degrees to the west. 2 miles out.”
After the first mile, he started yelling for Eraserhead. Listened for an answer that didn't come. After a few minutes of repeating it, he switches to just Eraser.
His voice sounded strangled from wear. He tried to hold his heart together but his grip on its pieces was crumbling like the decay under his boots.
Do I give up on sticking to his code name too?
“SHŌŌŌŌŌŌ!”
A strange voice yelled back.
They were calling out to “Hizashi.”
Shōta's alive.