The hospital room became a crime scene before Midnight was fully conscious.
Present Mic knelt beside her with two fingers pressed against her throat, counting each slow beat of her pulse.
A nurse crouched on Midnight’s other side, examining the puncture in her arm while a second prepared oxygen.
Eraser Head stood at the foot of the empty bed.
He did not move.
Izuku’s blanket had been pushed aside.
The torn intravenous line hung from its metal stand, releasing one clear drop at a time onto the floor.
Present Mic’s headphones lay beside the wall.
The apple juice remained unopened.
Katsuki’s All Might figure stood in the centre of the mattress, smiling at no one.
“Shouta.” Present Mic’s voice was quiet.
Eraser Head looked towards him.
“She’s breathing.” The nurse examined Midnight’s pupils.
“We need to move her to treatment.” “No,” Midnight mumbled.
Her eyelids opened by a fraction.
Present Mic leaned closer.
“Nemuri.” “The boy.” Her hand dragged across the floor as though she were still reaching for Izuku.
Her fingers closed on nothing.
“He’s been taken,” Present Mic said.
The words hurt both of them.
Midnight stared past him.
“No.” “You were drugged.” “No.” Her voice was weak but urgent now.
“He was here.” “I know.” “He was right there.” Present Mic placed one hand beneath her head.
The nurse attempted to fit an oxygen mask over Midnight’s face.
She pushed it away.
“I have to get up.” “You can barely move.” “They took him.” “We know.” “I have to find him.” She planted one shaking hand against the floor.
Her arm gave way immediately.
Present Mic caught her before her head struck the tiles.
Midnight made a sound somewhere between a gasp and a sob.
“I promised him.” Present Mic closed his eyes.
“I know.” “I said I would stay.” “You did stay.” “He watched me fall.” “You were injected.” “He watched them carry him away.” Her breathing became faster.
The heart monitor attached by the nurse began to complain.
“He asked me not to leave him.
He said all three of us had to stay, and we told him we would.” “Nemuri.” “I told him he was safe.” The nurse placed the oxygen mask over her mouth before she could resist again.
Midnight tore it away.
“Do not make me sleep.” “No one is sedating you,” the nurse said.
Midnight recoiled at the word anyway.
Her gaze darted towards the fallen syringe, then towards the open door.
For one second, she did not seem to recognise the people around her.
Present Mic took both of her hands.
“Nemuri.
Look at me.” Her eyes found his.
“You’re in the hospital.” “I know where I am.” “You’re with us.” “I know.” “The kidnappers are gone.” “I know!” The shout broke apart before it reached full volume.
Tears slid into Midnight’s hair.
“I know,” she repeated.
“That’s the problem.” Eraser Head stepped forward.
“You need treatment.” She looked at him.
His anger had nowhere safe to go.
It pressed behind his eyes, through his jaw and down both arms.
His capture weapon shifted around his shoulders, responding to movements he did not realise he was making.
He wanted someone standing in front of him.
A criminal.
A corrupt officer.
Someone he could restrain and question until Izuku’s location fell out of them.
Instead, he had an empty bed, an injured colleague and a hospital full of possible accomplices.
Midnight saw the guilt in him.
It did not comfort her.
“This was my room,” she whispered.
Eraser Head’s expression tightened.
“This was my decision.” “You did not put the needle in my arm.” “I divided us.” “I said I could protect him.” “You were prepared for an ordinary attack.” “There was nothing ordinary about any of this.” “No.” “I should have known.” “How?” Midnight stared at the discarded medical tray.
“The nurse knew his temporary name.
She knew the doctor.
She knew the correct equipment.” “She had stolen credentials.” “I still let her cross the doorway.” “You challenged her.” “After she was already inside.” “You caught the deception.” “After she was close enough to stab me.” The words came faster.
“I saw the injector.
I trapped her wrist.
I had her.
I had her, Shouta.” Her voice broke again.
“Then my hand stopped working.” The nurse looked towards Present Mic.
Midnight’s heart rate continued climbing.
“She needs to calm down.” Midnight laughed once.
The sound was raw.
“Excellent medical advice.” “Nemuri,” Present Mic warned gently.
“Do not tell me to calm down.” “I wasn’t going to.” “Everyone always says that when they want grief to become quieter.” Present Mic looked at the empty bed.
“I don’t need you quiet.” Midnight followed his gaze.
The sight of the small All Might figure undid what little control she had recovered.
She covered her mouth.
Her shoulders shook.
Present Mic moved closer, but she pulled away.
“Don’t.” He stopped immediately.
“I don’t deserve comfort yet.” “That is not how comfort works.” “It is tonight.” Eraser Head turned towards the doorway.
He could not repair what had happened in that room.
He could prevent the kidnappers from disappearing without a trace.
“No one leaves the building.” The hospital security chief stared at him.
“We have hundreds of patients and visitors.” “Then you have hundreds of witnesses.” “You cannot lock down an entire hospital without police authorisation.” “The people who kidnapped Izuku entered with forged medical credentials after three detectives used genuine police identification to psychologically abuse him.” The security chief’s face tightened.
“You believe police were involved?” “I believe someone gave the kidnappers access.” “That does not give you authority over the hospital.” Present Mic rose.
The volume of his voice remained normal.
Its force did not.
“A four-year-old was taken from a secured ward.” Every person in the corridor became quiet.
“He was declared dead because someone falsified a police report.
He was hunted through the city because someone buried witness statements.
He was found, brought here under a protected identity, and within hours people knew exactly which room contained him.” Present Mic stepped closer to the security chief.
“You can argue about authority after we know which exit they used.” The chief looked towards Eraser Head.
“What do you need?” “Seal the staff entrances.
Stop all non-emergency vehicle departures.
Preserve security recordings before anyone can overwrite them.
Pull the access logs for this ward, every lift and every service corridor.” “We are still dealing with the shooting.” “There was no shooting.” A guard near the nurses’ station frowned.
“I heard it.” “So did I,” Eraser Head replied.
“That does not mean a gun was fired.” He held up a small piece of damaged plaster removed from the wall on the lower level.
“No bullet.
No casing.
No confirmed shooter.
Someone used a Quirk or device to imitate gunfire and trigger emergency procedures.” The security chief began issuing orders through his radio.
Doors closed throughout the building.
Present Mic looked towards the lift.
“The kidnappers had several minutes.” “Then we account for every minute.” Eraser Head entered the room.
He began with the obvious.
The discarded syringe was sealed inside an evidence bag.
The fallen tray contained genuine hospital supplies, but no visible fingerprints.
The portable monitor had disappeared with the kidnappers.
The ventilation controls had been overridden remotely for less than three minutes, long enough to prevent Midnight from filling the room with her sleeping gas.
Someone had known her Quirk.
Someone had known the hospital layout.
Someone had studied the emergency system.
Midnight heard every detail from the stretcher.
Each one felt like a list of things she should have noticed.
The ventilation system had activated before she released enough gas.
The false nurse had carried two injectors.
The transport workers had known to remain outside Midnight’s direct line until the sedative took hold.
They had prepared for her.
That should have made the defeat feel less personal.
Instead, it meant Rampart’s people had understood her better than she had understood them.
Mitsuki stood near the wall with both arms wrapped around herself.
Masaru remained beside her.
Katsuki sat on the bed, one hand gripping Izuku’s cardboard shield.
He stared at the torn intravenous line.
No one had persuaded him to leave.
Eraser Head examined the door frame.
No forced entry.
A valid credential had opened it.
“Who assigned staff to this room?” The head nurse checked her tablet.
“Nurse Kiyomi Arata.” “Where is she?” “Home.
Her shift ended at noon.” “What did the woman look like?” “Dark hair.
Average height.
Paediatric badge.” “That describes half your staff.” The head nurse looked sick.
“I checked the schedule when she passed the desk.
Her name was listed.” “Was her face?” “The photograph was small.” “Call the real nurse.” Present Mic moved towards the corridor.
“I’ll do it.” “No personal devices,” Eraser Head said.
Present Mic stopped.
Someone had already accessed restricted systems.
Every ordinary channel was a possible leak.
Eraser Head pointed towards a hospital landline.
“Use that.
Do not identify the ward.” Present Mic nodded.
Mitsuki watched the investigation unfold.
“You’re checking a nurse who is probably innocent.” “We are checking the identity the kidnapper used.” “While Izuku gets farther away.” Eraser Head looked at her.
“I know.” “Do you?” Her voice sharpened.
“You promised he was safe.” “Yes.” “You knew someone was after him.” “Yes.” “You left one person in the room.” Midnight flinched.
Eraser Head answered anyway.
“Yes.” “Stop agreeing with me.” “I will not lie to make this easier.” “Nothing about this is easier.” Masaru placed a hand against her arm.
Mitsuki pulled away.
“You ran towards noises.” “We believed people were being shot.” “And Izuku was taken.” “Yes.” Katsuki looked up from the shield.
“Why didn’t one of you stay?” Midnight made a broken sound.
“I stayed.” Katsuki looked at her.
“You lost.” Mitsuki closed her eyes.
“Katsuki.” “What?” Midnight stared at the ceiling.
“He’s right.” Present Mic returned from the telephone.
“No, he isn’t.” “I was there.” “You were drugged.” “I saw the injector.” “You fought three people while sedated.” “I was still there when they took him.” Her voice began shaking again.
“He asked me to stay.
Then he watched them carry him away.” The paramedic adjusted her oxygen mask.
Midnight did not push it away this time.
She spoke beneath it.
“He thought another promise broke.” Katsuki stared at her.
“Did he cry?” Midnight’s eyes closed.
“Yes.” “Did he call for his mum?” “No.” That answer somehow hurt more.
“He called for me.” Katsuki looked towards the empty bed.
Midnight pressed one fist against her chest.
“He said he couldn’t run.” Tears escaped again.
“His mother died telling him to run, and the last thing he said to me was that he couldn’t.” No one in the room knew how to answer.
Eraser Head lowered himself beside the stretcher.
“This was my decision.” Midnight turned her head.
“You didn’t put the needle in me.” “I divided us.” “Because you believed the hospital was under attack.” “Because I assumed the threat would be visible.” Midnight looked towards the doorway.
“They understood us.” “Yes.” “They knew you and Hizashi would run.” “Yes.” “They knew I would stay.” “Yes.” “They knew how to take me down.” Eraser Head did not deny it.
Midnight stared at him.
“They built the whole plan around what we would choose.” “Yes.” The admission settled over all three heroes.
They had been studied.
Not their public biographies or Quirk descriptions.
Their instincts.
Create the appearance of many lives in danger.
Force the heroes towards the greater number.
Leave the real target somewhere quiet.
Eraser Head had recognised the trap.
He had simply recognised it after stepping inside.
A security officer entered carrying a tablet.
“We have the first access list.” Eraser Head stood.
“Read it.” “Thirty-eight staff credentials opened doors on this level between one thirty and two fifteen.
Six security personnel.
Four maintenance workers.
Three police credentials.” “Police credentials do not open hospital doors.” “They received temporary visitor permissions.” “Which officers?” The security officer hesitated.
“Detectives Nakamura, Shinohara and Kobayashi.” The three detectives who had questioned Izuku.
“Where are they?” Present Mic asked.
“They left shortly before the lockdown.” “How shortly?” “Two minutes before the first reported shot.” Present Mic’s expression emptied.
Midnight pulled down the oxygen mask.
“They knew.” The nurse tried to replace it.
Midnight caught her wrist.
“Those detectives knew what they were going to do.” “We don’t know that yet,” Eraser Head said.
“They tried to convince Izuku he killed Inko.
Then the false nurse knew about the accusation.” Her voice sharpened.
“She reacted when I mentioned it.” Eraser Head looked at her.
“You did not tell us that.” “I was trying.” Midnight looked down at her unsteady hands.
“I could not make my mouth work properly.” “Tell me now.” “The nurse’s expression changed.
Only for a second, but she knew what had happened in the interview.” “Could she have overheard?” “Possibly.” “Or the detectives contacted her.” Midnight nodded.
The movement made her dizzy.
She closed her eyes but continued.
“She had a second injector inside her sleeve.
The first one was meant for me.
The second was ready before the transport workers entered.” “They expected you to detect her.” “Yes.” The realisation caused another tremor to pass through Midnight.
“They expected me to fight.” Present Mic crouched beside her.
“That means this was never a fair encounter.” “I am a hero.
Fair is irrelevant.” “It is relevant when you are deciding whether you failed.” Midnight looked at him.
“I promised a child he was safe.
He is gone.
Use whichever word makes you comfortable.” Present Mic had no answer.
Eraser Head held out his hand for the tablet.
He examined the record.
The detectives entered through the main entrance.
Their credentials were verified by a metropolitan police database.
They visited Izuku.
They left.
Two minutes later, the diversion began.
Eleven minutes after that, a medical transport team used the eastern service lift.
No patient transfer had been scheduled.
The system listed the destination as radiology.
The lift stopped in the basement instead.
“Show me the basement cameras.” The officer tapped the screen.
The recording skipped.
One moment, the service corridor was empty.
The next, six minutes had vanished.
“Someone deleted it,” Mitsuki said.
“Not deleted,” Eraser Head replied.
“The timestamps continue.
The image was replaced with a repeating frame.” The kidnappers had entered with badges, medical knowledge, transport uniforms and access to the internal network.
This required time, money and information.
Rampart possessed all three.
Possession was not proof.
Present Mic returned to the landline.
“The real Nurse Arata is at home.
Her staff identification disappeared yesterday.
She reported it this morning.” The head nurse stared at him.
“There is no report in our system.” “Then someone removed it.” Nurse Arata’s credential opened the private ward.
A maintenance badge overrode the ventilation.
A security administrator released the basement exit.
Three identities.
One operation.
“Vehicle log,” Eraser Head said.
“A white medical transport van left the basement at two eighteen.” “Registration?” “Temporary hospital permit.
The plate is unreadable.” “Why?” “The camera was facing the wrong direction.” The officer enlarged the image.
The camera housing had been rotated several degrees.
It captured only the rear corner of the van.
Present Mic clenched both hands.
“They walked into a secured hospital, stole a child and drove out while every camera politely looked away.” Eraser Head examined the frame.
A fragment of blue lettering was visible near the rear wheel.
“Preserve this outside hospital storage.” The security chief nodded.
“Copy every access log, recording, staff schedule and maintenance call to an isolated drive.” “Where do we send it?” The police network was compromised.
The hospital was compromised.
Local hero dispatch might be compromised.
They needed someone outside all three systems.
Someone who could examine patterns without announcing that the examination had begun.
Midnight watched Eraser Head.
“You’re thinking of Nezu.” “Yes.” A sound escaped her.
Not laughter.
Something bitterer.
“We were so certain we had finished being students.” Present Mic looked towards her.
Midnight’s eyes remained on the empty bed.
“We thought graduation meant we were ready.” “No one is ready for everything,” he said.
“That sounds like something teachers say after a student fails.” Eraser Head met her gaze.
“Then perhaps we need a teacher.” Mitsuki looked between them.
“You’re calling your old headmaster?” “We’re calling one of the most intelligent investigators in the country,” Eraser Head said.
“He runs a school.” “He designed much of U.A.’s security and has advised national agencies on infiltration cases.” “And while he advises you, Izuku is still gone.” Eraser Head did not look away.
“We have reached the limit of what we can do without exposing every move to whoever is helping Rampart.” The admission cost him.
They were professional heroes, trained to take control while others panicked.
Now they needed someone to teach them where they had gone wrong.
Eraser Head took the hospital landline.
The call connected after two rings.
“Principal Nezu speaking.” Eraser Head looked at the empty bed.
“We made a serious mistake.” The voice at the other end lost its brightness.
“Tell me everything.” Detective Naomasa Tsukauchi received his call four minutes later.
Present Mic had met him only twice, both times through All Might.
Tsukauchi listened more than he spoke and remembered details other people forgot mentioning.
“This is Tsukauchi.” “My name is Hizashi Yamada.
Present Mic.” “I know who you are.” “We need an investigator.” “You have an entire metropolitan department.” “That is the problem.” Silence followed.
Present Mic looked towards the room where Midnight lay watching strangers catalogue the place Izuku had been taken from.
“A four-year-old witness was falsely declared dead.
He was recovered three days later.
Genuine police credentials were used to question him and undermine his testimony.
Then he was kidnapped from a secured hospital ward.” Tsukauchi’s voice changed.
“What did the child witness?” “A professional hero murdering his mother.” “Name?” “Rampart.” Tsukauchi did not react immediately.
“Do not transmit another detail over this line.” “We need help.” “I am leaving now.” “Come alone.” Another silence.
Present Mic hated saying it.
Tsukauchi understood why.
“I will.” The call ended.
Midnight was finally wheeled towards treatment.
She resisted until Eraser Head promised to bring every piece of evidence to her once the doctors stabilised her.
As the stretcher passed the empty bed, she reached out and took Izuku’s All Might figure.
Her fingers closed around it.
The plastic hero smiled between her trembling hands.
“I told him I would stay,” she whispered.
Present Mic walked beside the stretcher.
“You did.” “No.” Midnight pressed the figure against her chest.
“I was only in the room.” The doors closed behind her.
Eraser Head turned towards the hospital staff.
“No one leaves until we know who let them in.”