Open Case 1

Upon arriving at the comfort of his room, Mikumo crashed headfirst into his bed, feeling sleepy and lethargic even though he had only been awake for three hours or so.

The buzzing in his head had grown increasingly louder ever since he had used his quirk outside. As of now, he was already more than ninety percent sure that it was a side effect of his quirk usage.

But, despite having bought a new observation journal and some pens, he was too tired to note down his findings.

He'll do that later. For now...

Let's nap first.

When he awoke, it was already nearing 5 pm, and the sun had already started to sink towards the horizon.

The corners of his eyes twitched, irritated by the locks of untamed, curly hair that had already started to grow past his nape.

Blinking blearily, he noticed snowflakes falling gently towards the earth. Mikumo tilted his head at the sight.

Snowing? In early December? Weren't they in the Kansai region?

Nevertheless, despite the tempting pull of his warm bed, he still got up and drowsily changed into his newly bought clothes, opting to return the borrowed clothes to their owner after he had them washed.

He yawned. The loud, incessant growling of his stomach told him that it was way past his lunch time, and so, he dragged his feet towards the kitchen after a quick run to the bathroom to freshen up.

Ah, he killed someone again.

He realized as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. How would anyone know that the seemingly innocent child before them was actually a murderer of five?

It's all sort of funny in a way. But, he had to admit, he looked good for a killer.

In all honesty, Mikumo knew that he was far from fashionable and couldn't match clothes for the life of him, so, he opted for the next best option and that was, asking for the shopkeeper's assistance.

Fortunately enough, the young lady had been more than happy to help him, gushing about how a certain color suited his eyes or what type of fashion was currently popular.

Soon enough, he found himself leaving the store with enough clothes to last him more than two weeks.

It costed a lot though. The good thing was, he actually really liked the clothes.

Mikumo found comfort in the constricted feeling that his tight fitting, black turtleneck shirt brought him, hidden underneath a white bunny hoodie which was obviously far too big for him.

Although the black ripped jeans felt a little tight, it wasn't to the point that it felt suffocating. Plus, it made his legs look nice, even making him glance at his reflection a few more times.

What he didn't realize though was that his previously dark emerald eyes had turned several shades lighter, becoming a luminous bottle green. It was as though his colors were slowly being drained away.

Still, just how did everything turn out this way?

Gently, his hand slid to his neck, gripping the most unprotected vital point of his body.

When his mother had been alive, his life had been perfect.

Even though his father had almost never been around, as long as she smiled at him lovingly as she usually did, it felt as if nothing would ever go wrong.

But, that was eight years ago. It's been so long that he couldn't even remember what his mother looked like anymore; her pictures having been burnt to ash in one of his father's fiery rampage.

All he could remember were her soft smiles and long green hair tied to a bun.

If his mother had still been alive, would he be living differently now?

Tiredly, Mikumo let his hand drop to his sides.

Maybe he should let his hair grow longer.

...

"This wasn't done by an explosion quirk." Squatting on the dusty warehouse floor in the outskirts of Musutafu, Detective Tsukauchi Naomasa stated his conclusion. "We'll need to redo our list of suspects."

"Really, Tsukauchi-san?!" Tsuharu Takase, a junior detective studying under Tsukauchi, exclaimed. "How did you come to that conclusion?"

Pointing to an irregular section on the blood splatters, the older detective explained. "You see this part here? The dried blood is much thicker in this part compared to the others. Kind of like what happens when new blood drips on top of blood that has already started to dry up."

"If you carefully clean it up, you'll probably find two or more separate layers underneath." Tsukauchi stood up, dusting himself with a grim expression. "What I'm concerned about though, is if it's only one villain that did this."

"Wouldn't it be more dangerous if there's more than one villain we're chasing?" Tsuharu asked, confused.

"No, contrary to what many may believe, having to deal with different individuals possessing a specific, targeted quirk is much easier to deal with than just one person with a broad usage quirk." Tsukauchi sighed as they entered an enclosed tent where pictures of the crime scene, before the corpses were taken to be studied, were being processed. "There's too many possibilities."

"Like here, this section." Tsukauchi pointed to a certain part of the corpse in the image. "You can see that there's a clean incision on the victim's torso, right? But, at first sight, you wouldn't notice it because of the large amounts of messily torn up flesh."

"I see! Now that you pointed it out, there really is one!" Tsuharu gasped in realization.

"Yes, now, if you look back at the crime scene, you will find that there are many pieces of scattered flesh strewn everywhere, some even being found 15 meters away from where the blood splatters end." Tsukauchi pointed out as Tsuharu reviewed the details on his notes. "With this, a few quirks come in mind, like, a wind type such as Cyclone, or a Beast transformation type."

"But, what about the incision? Perhaps a blade related quirk of some sort? But, what I did notice, in fact, is that all three died without struggle." Tsukauchi's expression darkened. "Which means, they died too quickly for them to react. That's why I brought up the possibility of it being caused by just one person."

"T-this!" With face drained of blood, Tsuharu stuttered. "How can there be such a dangerous individual?!"

"I'm gonna need a raise after this." Tsukauchi muttered. "Well, I did find out their cause of death though."

"W-which is?" Tsuharu hesitantly asked despite not knowing if he really wanted to hear the answer.

"It's the incision." Tsukauchi said as he poured himself a cup of hot tea from the shared thermos. "The first incision was made from behind, slicing through the spinal chord and nearly cutting the victims in half. This is made to drain the blood from the body, that's why the splatters spread outwards. It can also be presumed that the cut on all three was done at the same time with the consistent rate which the blood had dried."

"After most of the victims' blood was drained, their corpses were further desecrated. And that was how we found them so messed up, which also explains the newer blood splatters." Gulping down his tea all at once, Tsukauchi turn to his wide eyed junior.

"But, they're already dead so why-"

"To erase the perpetrator's traces or even just for fun. There are a lot of possible reasons." Tsukauchi grunted as he roughly set down his cup on the table. "The most worrying part is, the lack of the suspect's trace. Does anyone come to mind, Eraserhead?"

Tsuharu gasped, not realizing that there was another person with them.

In a dark, secluded corner of the tent, the lesser known underground hero, Erasure Hero: Eraserhead, blended in with the darkness, eavesdropping into their conversation.

"If there's more than one, then I can think of a few, but it doesn't really match their known active locations." Eraserhead grumbled, his tired voice and dark eyebags making light of his lack of sleep. "If it's just one though, then it's likely that it's a new villain."

"We'll have to file this as a separate case." Tsukauchi smiled tiredly, already foreseeing his hectic future. "I get the feeling that this won't be the last of it."

Meanwhile, the killer in question was currently sitting in a staff lounge, watching his coworker struggle to paint his nails without making a mess.

"Mff!" Akira huffed in frustration as the brush went past his nail again.

"..." This has been going on for a while if you couldn't tell. "Do you need help?"

"No." Akira glanced down, slightly curling into himself nervously but, mere moments later, he huffed again.

The older boy hesitantly turned to Mikumo, biting his cheek.

"...Please."

With a curt nod, Mikumo pulled his chair closer to Akira. And so ensued a quiet and relaxing nail painting session.

"...I like your clothes. You have good fashion."

"Thanks."

Backstage Act:

Mikumo has acquired future bestfriend (with benefits?)!

Akane: Oh! Is it matching nail polish day?

Akira: No, we just did each other's nails.

Mikumo: Black was the only one he had.