Mind Over Matter [BNHA OC]

Run Alone

It had been described to Hiro as reinforced tri-polymer, heat and abrasion resistant fabrics that would theoretically withstand the effects of his quirk-enhanced movement. It'd been developed in the wake of the reactor explosion, a prototype tactical suit designed for a local pro hero agency in an ultimately ineffective effort to rebuild relationships that had perished along with the people involved in the terrorist attack of five months past; it had been rejected, and now lay on a mannequin, buried, unused. Satoki had said something else, too, something about being able to monitor his vitals from the research station as long as he was wearing it, but all Hiro could focus on was the vacancy of the carapace - the blue-black color scheme, the lightning shaped ear pieces on either side of the mask, the sleek respirator .. it spoke to him.

As if it had been made for him.

"Right," he spoke almost inaudibly, "Thank you, Miyagi."

Satoki watched him with pride - he'd a significant hand in forging the aforementioned costume, and had taken complete ownership upon it's rejection, changing it's composition, and adding his own alterations here and there to fit his very unique standard of perfection. An engineer at his core, Hiro had begun to see, however begrudgingly, that his hazel-haired counterpart had expertise none could trifle with and had ample reason for being taken under Hisato's wing.

Almost as much, presumably, as Ruka, who Hiro hadn't doubted for even a second since meeting her a few minutes after his resuscitation. As the resident biochemist of the three, it was her that had kept him alive during the comatose months - kept him in the land of the living as the radiation from the reactor morphed his genes, coding for a previously nonexistent quirk factor. She was snarky, too, and Hiro wished at times that she wasn't as clear-skinned and rosy-cheeked as she was - then, he supposed, the sister of his scientific idol would be easier to dislike. But instead, to his probable detriment, he'd somehow taken positively to those teasing expressions, those smarter-than-you remarks and all-too knowing glances.

"If you're both done admiring the cosmetics, the computer worm's done it's job," she'd called from further within the cortex, prompting the two boys to join her at one of the station's many monitors, "And I'd appreciate if you two walked me through this crazy scheme of yours again - and what to tell my brother when it inevitably fails it's purpose."

"It won't," Hiro said, "It can't."

"It can, and probably will," Satoki allowed, despite Hiro's glare, "But it's better than nothing. My worm gave us access to the data on confidential police homicide cases that took place between now and the antimatter reactor explosion five months ago - hey, what the fuck?"

Hiro's fingers were already on the keyboard, pressing keys at a speed undetectable to the eyes of his compatriots - his quirk had, over the past days, seemingly extended to every cell of his body, every fiber of the cornea of his sapphire hues; searching through complex data piles in the time it would take to read a single website paragraph. He stopped, suddenly, presenting the screen to the respectively irritated and intrigued expressions bore by Satoki and Ruka.

"It says here the prime suspect is an escaped convict named Suzaku Nazaru," he stated, the attempt to keep any and all emotion from his tone almost audible, "Multiple witnesses place him at the scene the night my uncle was murdered, and his fingerprints were on the knife that killed him. Too strong for them to handle, so he's on the registry for pro heroes to deal with."

"Except that no pro's been able to get their hands on him," added Satoki, upon further scrutiny of the document, "He was a small-timer before the explosion, and afterwards, he changed. Got stronger, got bolder .. must've done a hit on your house while you were healing up here, and had your uncle caught in the crossfire."