Scapegoat: Part 3

Diego was bored. Unfathomably bored. He had been sitting idly for the past few days. No stakeouts. No training. No fighting. Diego looked wistfully outside. He yearned to go outside, but Izuku had told him to lay low. Had the run-in with the heroes spooked that green-haired maniac?

"That's your ticket in." The sudden break in monotony startled Diego. He fell out of his chair as Izuku appeared out of nowhere. Getting up, he peered at the badly shot, grainy photo of a masked man that Izuku had tossed onto the table.

"And what am I supposed to do with this?" Diego raised his eyebrows. The fear of this green-haired maniac still remained. But after spending several days with him, he realised that licking his boots ensured a look of disgust would make its way onto Izuku's face. The menace appreciated sarcasm and jokes as much as the next person.

"Well, right now, the 8 Precepts of Death are under the impression that you killed a cell of theirs. And then stole their drugs."

"That was you," Diego said with a straight face.

Izuku waved that statement away. "It doesn't matter who did it. What matters is who people think did it. And right now there's a brutal new vigilante going around eliminating gangs that rep the 8 Precepts."

"You mean Bluebird?" Diego rolled his eyes.

"Bingo. So now all you have to do is swoop in and catch Bluebird for the 8 Precepts and maybe, just maybe, they'll welcome you back."

"Why?"

"Huh?" Izuku tilted his head at the sudden question. Diego had never plucked up the courage to ask a question before. At least not about his own motivations.

"Why do you want me to infiltrate the 8 Precepts so badly?"

Izuku smiled. So that was it. "Simply put, there's an interesting person I want to meet. And they're right at the very top. But I don't want to spend my time going through each cell. Which is where you come in."

Diego sighed. "And then you'll help me?"

"Of course. In fact..." Izuku rummaged inside his jacket and pulled out an envelope. "Here it is. The location of your so-called brother."

Diego leapt out of his chair to grab the envelope, but Izuku was already behind him.

"Careful. Don't want to accidentally rip this now, do we?" He folded the envelope and put it back into the deep confines of the prison that was his jacket.

Diego felt his eye twitch. He took another look at the photo on the table.

"So we're using this guy as a scapegoat. For Bluebird."

Izuku nodded. "Right on the money."

"Who is he?"

"Well, we lucked out there. Not many vigilantes resort to killing. But there was one right in our backyard."

"What's his name?"

"Stendhal."