Pantomath

Introduction

The building was dark and dingy when they entered, but the outside was too, so Centipeder was not entirely sure why they were surprised by the lackluster interior. The building itself had looked abandoned, squished between two equally neglected shopfronts -although they almost thought this one was worse- unlike its neighbors the front was bare, no sign, no address, not so much as a nameplate or open sign. They found themselves double checking the addresses on the neighboring buildings so they were sure that it was actually the right place before they dared trying the door. (They would hesitate to admit they double checked two separate times, but once they would admit to) The door was completely unlocked, swinging open on a barely rusty hinge.

     Upon entering they had still found themselves thinking the front would be just that- a front, cleverly concealing the owner from their no doubt numerous enemies or from shady characters hoping to use them and their powerful quirk for evil. After all Sir Nighteye had been thoroughly assured before accepting the address that the owner of the place did not deal with villains nor did they participate in the thriving market for heroes' private information.

It always had surprised them how often that happened, it seemed like every third month a fellow hero was moving in a hurry to escape paparazzi- but they digressed, they were stalling to delay their necessary task. They had had far too many doubts about this from the beginning.

    Mentally steeling himself, Centipeder approached the empty counter that greeted them, coated in dust. A single dull bell rested on it with a bright, but old, sign boldly proclaiming in pink marker, 'ring for assistance, please, thank you for your patience!'  It almost seemed to mock the rest of the room, with its neon green smiley face adorning the corner- the only bit of cheer in the entire desolate room- a paper sign. 
Ding-ding. They rang the bell prepared to wait only a minute before declaring it a lost cause.

    "Ah!" Almost instantly a head of green hair popped up from behind the desk after a small clamor (was there a basement behind it?) "Sorry about this, Mr... oh, Mr. Juzo Moashi, oh! Or should it be Centipeder instead?  I heard you had been given my address, I'm glad you decided to come, I know you had your doubts..." They trailed off awkwardly realizing they had begun to ramble, "But, Im sure you won't regret it. What do you need to know?"

    Centipeder stood there for not even a half second, but that seemed too long for the green-haired child- and they were a child, not even in their teens judging them off their looks alone, just what were they doing?

    Straightening their slightly oversized suit sleeves (And didn't that just make them look that much younger?) the boy continued with their eyes growing focused, but distant, "Well let's see, I heard you were tracking down the new quirk drug ring that had popped up, with Sir Nighteye...? Yes, not much of note has come to his attention beyond that, unless of course this is about the All Might situation." He pauses giving him an appraising look, "But no, he would have come himself- not- not that I'm- i don't- it's-!" A pause as their eyes returned somewhat to the present time and place instead of whatever they had been seeing before... had that been pantomath? He had heard a lot about that quirk, a mysterious info quirk, named for the search to know all, "I don't mean any offense of course, Mr. Centipeder, I just meant that that particular... case, would be a more personal matter. Are you here about the drug ring then?" This time they paused long enough for them to gather themselves and speak.

    "I believe you are correct, the last few months Sir Nighteye has been tracking an underground agency selling quirk enhancing drugs, but whenever it seems we find a lead, it slips away, but I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage, what should I call you...?"

    "Oh! My bad, I completely forgot, we haven't met yet, have we?" They came around the desk a file under one arm and Centipeder got their first real look at them. The child was short with some baby fat still clinging to his cheeks (preteens maybe?) and wore their suit and vest with confidence despite it seeming to swamp them (not to say it didn't fit, yet at the same time it made them seem impossibly young as if they were trying to play an adults game). Their hands were covered by gloves. All the same they were plain with a mess of dark green hair and impossibly wide matching green eyes that seemed to try and observe everything all at once, yet there was a tiredness to it all, despite their bright smile and cheer.