Compulsion

Chapter 43: Isn't This What You Wanted?

For the first time in her life, Kyoka was at an active crime scene. The plaza's main entryways were monitored by police cars and officers. No siren filled the air, but their lights still turned and flashed. More officers were within the plaza itself. They were shepherding civilians, taking statements, and cuffing the villain of the hour. It took a few to do it less than they would need if the man in question was still conscious.

After they locked his arms and legs in heavy-duty cuffs, an officer had to hold up his head so they could put, what seemed to be, a muzzle over his face. It was definitely metal and while she saw the air holes and knew what happened, she couldn't help but look away when the officers yanked on its straps.

It didn't go unnoticed. "I know..."

Kyoka blinked, looking to Death-Arms. "H-Huh? Um..."

"Muzzling people..." His hands found his hips, nodding. "By ear or on paper, it seems simply like an... abuse of power over someone else." He shrugged, "I don't fault you for that."

Her face contorted for a few moments before rubbing the back of her neck. "I know he's a villain and he tried to..." She sighed, "It's just..." She shook her head. "It's weird to see..."

"Unfortunately, you might get used to it," he said. "A necessary evil."

"Right..."

Death-Arms' eyes narrowed, "Looks like the gossip mill is starting to churn."

She followed his gaze to those within the plaza and those approaching with, notably, their flashing phones in hand. It looked like there were already a few reporters there when they arrived. "Guess they finally got their bearings straight..."

He turned his head to her. "You Shiketsu students shouldn't get photographed or videoed, right?"

"Pretty much."

"Alright, go ahead and check up on Mount-Lady and your classmate." His jaw clenched for a moment before shrugging. "I'll go look pretty in front of cameras." As they walked in opposite directions, he muttered, "A pretty mean feat given my face."

"Pfft—" Kyoka's hand clasped over her mouth. "Don't laugh... Don't laugh... Don't laugh...!"

She vehemently shook her head, throwing her laughter aside. She walked back towards the entryway; was acknowledged by a cop with a respectful nod, which was pretty cool, and found the ambulance with... a van parked next to it. If it weren't for Midoriya standing outside its door, she would've thought it was someone trying to get a scoop or something.

Speaking of Midoriya, she found that he wasn't in costume anymore or, at least, not quite. He still had the gauntlets, graves, and belt, but there was no jumpsuit, vest, or helmet. Instead of that jumpsuit, he was wearing parts of his Shiketsu uniform – the dress shirt and pants in particular. The straps from his belt wrapped around his legs like before, but now, without his vest, she saw the straps that crisscrossed over his torso. Her eyes took that sight in...

"Oh, hey, Jirou!" called out Midoriya.

For a little too long. "H-Hey!" She forced a cough, a little too harshly – it hurt a bit. "How are you holding up?"

"Oh, I'm fine." He waved his hand.

She blinked, "R-Really?", as her eyes drifted to the obvious bandage on his forehead.

It didn't go unnoticed, and she realized that when his hand lifted into view. "Oh, right..."

Her eyes widened, "O-Oh, I—I didn't me—"

"I need the hat!" he cried. He turned back to the van, took up his Shiketsu cap, and pulled it onto his head. "Gotta... represent! Right?" Her original face of concern and somewhat embarrassment began to... shift and contort into... something akin to... disgust. "Okay. I'm sorry. I won't say that again."