I returned to the agency before dawn. Every step felt like a betrayal. I managed to sneak back to my room undetected, but the silence of the building felt more accusatory than any shout. I lay in bed, the wooden token from Akame feeling cool in my hand, and my mind became a battlefield. I had made a secret pact with the primary target of a pro-hero investigation. I had chosen a path that put me in direct opposition to my mentor and my friends. There was no going back now.
The next morning, the atmosphere in the operations room was icy. Ryukyu gathered us all for a briefing. Her face was a mask of cold professionalism, but I could see the deep disappointment in her eyes as she looked at me.
"Last night's report is null," she said, her voice flat and emotionless. "No movement near the trap location. No visual or sensory contact. Our 'Ghost' was a no-show. It seems she knew it was a trap and decided not to take the risk."
I stood silently, feeling the gazes of my friends on me. I was their 'radar,' and my 'radar' had detected nothing. It was the first lie, and it felt like swallowing broken glass. "Maybe... maybe she was too cautious," I said, my voice sounding weaker than I intended. "Maybe she decided to lay low for a while."
"Maybe," was all Ryukyu replied. She no longer trusted my 'hunches.' I could see it. I had become an unreliable asset in her eyes. "Alright. For today, the intern team will conduct routine patrols in sectors three and four. Stay together and report any suspicious activity, no matter how small."
It was a clear demotion. She was keeping us away from the core of the investigation. She no longer trusted us—or more accurately, she no longer trusted me.
The patrol that day was incredibly awkward. The warmth and banter that had started to grow between the five of us had frozen over. I walked slightly behind Uraraka and Tsuyu, while Nejire floated above, her unusual silence feeling heavier than her usual barrage of questions.
"You look really tired, Tatsumi-kun," Nejire said finally, floating down beside me. "Couldn't sleep last night? Were you thinking about the ghost?" Her question sounded light, but I knew she was probing.
"Something like that," I answered evasively.
"It's strange she didn't show up at all, kero," Tsuyu chimed in, her large eyes staring at me unblinkingly. "Your hunches are usually so strong, but this time it was wrong. That's not like you." It wasn't an accusation, but her honest observation felt like a slap.
"Tsuyu-chan!" Uraraka chided gently. "Maybe Tatsumi-kun just... made a mistake. Everyone can be wrong, right?" She was trying to defend me, but the doubt in her voice was clear.
"Hunches aren't an exact science," I said, my voice sounding more defensive than I intended. "I'm sorry if I got everyone's hopes up."
The wall between us felt like it was getting thicker. They were my friends, good people striving to be heroes. And I was lying to them, hiding a secret that could destroy everything we were building. Guilt gnawed at me.
To break the tension, fate seemed to intervene. A scream came from an alley up ahead. "Thief! He took my bag!"
Without hesitation, we all sprang into action. This was something we understood, something clear-cut. A villain, a victim. We saw a small man with a Quirk that made his legs like springs hopping between rooftops, a woman's handbag in his grasp.
"I've got the high ground!" Nejire called out, immediately shooting into the air.
"Uraraka-chan, Tsuyu-chan, cut off his exit at the end of the street!" I commanded instinctively. "I'll pursue from below!"
For a moment, the awkwardness between us vanished, replaced by the synergy of a hero team. I ran down the alley, using the walls to jump and keep up my speed. Above me, I could see Nejire easily catching up to the thief. She fired a small energy wave in front of him, not to hurt him, but to throw him off balance. The thief stumbled and fell to a lower roof. As he tried to get up, Tsuyu's long tongue shot out from the end of the alley, wrapping around his legs. Uraraka then touched the thief, making him float helplessly in the air. It was all over in less than a minute.
We returned the bag to its tearfully grateful owner and handed the thief over to the police. It was a small, clean victory. But as we walked back, the awkward silence returned to envelop us. We could work together perfectly as a team, but as friends, we were now separated by a chasm of secrets.
Back at the agency, I felt desperate. I had betrayed my mentor and alienated my friends. And for what? For a fragile truce with a killer I might never see again. I stared at the large investigation board in the operations room. It was full of photos, maps, and notes, but it all felt like a dead end.
I decided to do the only thing I could: work. I had to find the next lead myself. I couldn't rely on Akame to contact me. I had to prove that my decision to trust her wasn't wrong. I started going through the old case files again, looking for a pattern that might have been missed. I remembered my conversation with her. She targeted the 'vilest,' the most slippery.
I needed help. I needed another perspective. I opened my laptop and made a video call to the one person I knew could match my mind in terms of analysis: Momo.
Her face appeared on the screen, looking slightly surprised by my call. "Tatsumi-san? Is everything alright?"
"I need your help, Yaoyorozu," I said directly. "I need your sharp eyes."
I explained the situation (without mentioning my meeting with Akame, of course). I told her we had hit a dead end in finding the killer's target pattern. I shared my screen, showing her the data on various criminal operations in the city.
For the next hour, we worked together. She, with her vast knowledge of corporate structures and economics, and I, with my cheated understanding of an efficient assassin's mindset. I would give her vague prompts. "What about the shipping data from the southern docks for the last six months? Are there any irregularities?" And she, with her genius, would dig into the data and find the anomaly I was looking for.
"Strange," she said, pointing to a shipping manifest. "This textile import company regularly receives containers whose weight doesn't match their contents. And they always arrive in the middle of the night. The sender is the same shell company linked to the arms smuggling victim."
"Cross-reference that with missing persons reports in the port area," I urged.
Her fingers danced across the keyboard. Her eyes widened. "Oh my god... there's a spike in missing persons reports—mostly undocumented immigrants—around that dock for the last six months. They're... they're smuggling people in those containers."
We had found it. An active human trafficking operation, hiding behind a legitimate import business. This was the type of target Akame could never pass up.
But before I could bring this to Ryukyu, I saw it first. An email came into Ryukyu's terminal, whose screen was reflected on my tablet. It was an anonymous message. Very short. It contained only a single warehouse address in the southern docks and a time: "Tonight. 23:00."
It was from her. Akame. She was giving me a tip, just as I had asked. She was testing me. She wanted to see what the heroes would do with this information.
I was faced with a new dilemma. If I reported my "analysis" findings with Momo, it would seem like an incredible coincidence. If I reported the anonymous email, suspicion would fall directly on me.
I made a decision. I would use both.
I ended the video call with Momo, thanking her and telling her I would pass on her findings. Then, I walked to Ryukyu's office. I showed her the data that Momo and I had found, building a solid case about the human trafficking operation.
Ryukyu looked impressed. "Good work. This is our best lead."
"There's more," I said hesitantly. I forwarded the anonymous email to her terminal. "This just came into your system. I don't know if it's related, but the address is in the same dock area."
Ryukyu read the email, then looked at me, her eyes narrowing. I knew what she was thinking. This coincidence was too perfect. But she couldn't prove anything. We had logical data from Momo, and we had an anonymous tip that confirmed it.
She stood up, her expression firm. "Alright," she said, making a decision. "We're raiding that warehouse tonight." She looked at me, her gaze cold. "You interns will come. You will act as the support team on the outer perimeter. No one goes in unless I give the order."
She paused, her eyes locked on me. "And this is your chance to earn back my trust, Tatsumi-kun. Don't waste it."
That night, as we prepared for the operation, the atmosphere among the team was different. No longer awkward, but filled with a focused tension. They had seen the results of my "analysis," and while they might still have doubts, they also saw that I had given them a way forward. As I put on my tactical gear, I exchanged glances with Uraraka and Tsuyu. They gave me small, hesitant nods. Nejire gave me a questioning but hopeful look.
I knew this raid was more than just stopping criminals. It was a test. A test for our team, for Ryukyu's trust, and for my fragile truce with the ghost from my past. As I checked the communicator in my ear, I thought, 'Alright, Akame. Let's see if your way... and my way... can work together.'