Archive of Our Own ^beta

Oba Harumi entered the cold walls of Tartarus with a feeling of deep foreboding. The entire place seemed to leech warmth, cold sterile walls draining even the colour out of the air.

At least Harumi was a guard, not a prisoner herself. She got to leave this place behind after her shift was over. She got to look up into the sun and breathe in fresh air. Those stuck here never would, doomed to rot away out of society’s eyes. 

But first, Harumi had to make her way through her first shift. For anyone else, this would have been difficult enough. The structure of Tartarus’s organisation made it so no one person had access to everything. The complex digital file system, camera operation and shift logs were designed to be as obstructive as possible to any potential escapee. Remembering everything just for her job alone would be a challenge. 

However, Oba Harumi was not a normal Tartarus guard. No, she was a spy. A spy who had been sent on rumours of harsh conditions, of inhumane brutality. Of a man who was not supposed to be here. A whisper of a rumour, of a man who appeared without warning, saved a homeless man, and was taken in the middle of the night by the HPSC. If the rumour was true, that man would be here.

Oba Harumi was a false name, a false identification with a false quirk. Listed as Speed Reader, her quirk was actually Perfect Recall. If the higher ups knew what her quirk really was, they would have been a hell of a lot more careful with what they let the other guards open in front of her.

And that was exactly why she was the perfect spy. Constantly underestimated, with a quirk useful enough to probe while staying hidden.

And it was this quirk that lead her to spot the first sign for her mission.

The guard in front of her, Nakata, flicked past an open page while searching for the page that would serve as her itinerary. Her quirk caught it and saved it in the lightning second it appeared.

The information wouldn’t have been so interesting if Harumi hadn’t memorised Tartarus’s schedule and runnings already, if she hadn’t scrounged her way for any information available before even applying for the job. She knew how Tartarus worked, and this single point, this error in the system, was a glaring spotlight.

The page she had now saved in her mind read as follows; first a list of codenames, to serve as prisoner identification, and then a record of times of specific restraint removals. 

The restraints that Tartarus used were harsh and bulky. They had to be, custom made to fit the wide array of quirks found within these walls. However, a side affect of that meant cleaning them became difficult whenever prisoners would inevitably damage themselves. No one wanted a prisoner to escape Tartarus by dying of infection, which meant sanitisation was an integral part of this place’s runnings. Most prisoners were sedated into complete unconsciousness, then the cleaning would begin. This process was done on a schedule, one regular and consistent. They never broke schedule.

So what Oba Harumi found most interesting was the few times listed that were not on that simply hourly schedule. Meaning there was a reason other than sanitisation they were being removed.

13:14, muzzle removal for prisoner ID code Maigo.

Someone was talking to them. Someone was interrogating a prisoner. A prisoner which Oba Harumi had not found any information on, no news articles, no arrest history, nothing. The ghost in the machine.

Oba Harumi forced herself not to smile as Nakata droned on. She’d found her golden goose.

She’d contacted her partner-in-crime, a vigilante with a technology quirk. Harumi’s security level only went so far, being a guard with one day of work under her belt. Chuuwa, as she was commonly known as, was the information broker for anyone wanting an undetectable hack.

And luckily for Harumi, Chuuwa had had the misfortune of deciding to be Harumi’s friend. And then, afterwards, girlfriend.

“So, what you looking for?” Chuuwa asked, voice fuzzing through the low quality speakers of Harumi’s burner.

“Prisoner, codename Maigo. Anything, anything at all,” Harumi replied. It was raining as Harumi stood on the rooftop of her small apartment. Perfect weather to conduct a secret operation.

“Hmmm, Maigo, Maigo, Maigo…” Chuuwa muttered to herself. The rapid sounds of fingers flying over a keyboard matched with the heavy beat of the rain.

Harumi watched the waters drip of the corrugate metal roof as she waited for Chuuwa to find her information.

“Holy shit. Holy shit!” Chuuwa gasped.

“What?” Harumi barked, fingers clenching tight around her phone. “What did you find?”

“Nothing. The security allowance is backed up with a biological code to one person, I can’t hack into that. But you know what I could find? Who that person is.”

“And?”

“It’s the president! It’s the fucking HPSC president.”

Harumi sucked in a breath. Why would the HPSC president be visiting a prisoner, and why so under the books? Why would everything on Maigo be hidden? 

She had no trust for the HPSC or their president, she couldn’t exactly go and ask. If they were willing to risk to talk to Maigo, Maigo was far more important than that initial rumour had implied.

Harumi knew one thing and one thing only. She had to see Maigo.

“Chuuwa, can you change the schedule?”

Chuuwa snorted over the line. “Don’t patronise me. That’s child’s play. What is it you want changed?”

“15:00, muzzle cleaning for prisoner Maigo.” Harumi smiled. Everything was coming together. “Make me the one to do it.”

Harumi stood outside the cell for the prisoner soley identified as Maigo, and watched as the harsh cogs and wheels shifted to allow the door to open. This level of security was normal, the placement of the cell was not. Forced down at the very end, this was the deepest down into Tartarus one could go. Someone had tried very hard to bury the man in this cell, and they had done a good job. A nearly perfect one, if Harumi hadn’t noticed the flaw. A complete log only worked so well when you didn’t have anything to hide.

The door swung open, pushed forward by two soldiers holding guns. Harumi stepped inside, lugging the bag of sanitisation equipment beside her. A few changes from Chuuwa’s quirk, and Harumi had been registered on duty, no one the wiser to the slight change.

The room was largely empty, except for the single chair locked down in the centre. The prisoner was strapped down with metal bands across their chest, arms and legs. Between the metal bands was thick plastic, cocooning the prisoner down in the chair. 

Curious. There had been nothing on their quirk other than an incredibly basic description of “advanced strength”. The metal bands were understandable, but the plastic was not. It implied a touch based quirk, but Harumi had not been warned for that.

If only Harumi could ask the prisoner, but Maigo was fast asleep in the forced unconsciousness brought on by the cocktail of drugs. They were slumped forward as much as were possibly with the totality of their restraints, even their face held upright. 

From what Harumi could see, he didn’t look anything special. In fact, he looked younger than Harumi had expected, barely into the age of adulthood. A mess of green hair sat atop a face pockmarked with freckles, barely visible over the metal muzzle covering the lower half of his face. They didn’t look much like a villain would, but that only implied all the more danger. One’s actions spoke louder than appearances, after all.

A guard rapped at the door and Harumi shook herself. Right, she had a job to do, not just stare. She lowered the bag and carefully approached the villain. Not that she had any right to be scared. Both the restraints and the drug-induced coma were enough to keep him at bay. If he even was the type of person to attack, and Harumi was basing everything on that assumption being wrong.

She carefully undid the latches of the metal muzzle and pulled it off him. He swayed slightly at the movement, but his eyes stayed tightly closed.

Pulling out the wipes, she began the intricate process of sanitising the mask, all the while keeping an eye on the prisoner. She had a plan, and the timing was oh so important. 

Maigo had no records, no arrest, no visible history of villainy. A quirk that wasn’t speech activated, but still required a muzzle implied one of two things. Either this man was prone to biting as a form of attack, or the much more likely option, he was being kept from saying anything that could be damaging. And if the only people around to hear him were guards, and with the HPSC president visiting this man to talk… well. Harumi had no doubts that Maigo wasn’t a villain, but a political prisoner, imprisoned without trial because they couldn’t risk what could get leaked in his defense. Just the thing she had been sent in to look for. 

Harumi may not be a hero, but she couldn’t leave an innocent man to the dregs of Tartarus. 

So along with the cleaning supplies, she had snuck in a syringe of Adrenaline mixed with Trigger and a buzzer connecting her to Chuuwa without a traceable signal. Only two things, but that was all they would need.

Oh, and time. Time which was rapidly drawing near. 

Harumi wiped down the muzzle one last time. Maigo’s eyelashes fluttered, and one steady green iris slowly blinked open. They focused on her and Harumi could see the muddy flashes of interest pass through them.

The guard banged once more on the door.

Time was up.

Harumi pulled out the needle of Adrenaline and stabbed it into Maigo’s neck. She jammed her thump down on the buzzer.

Everything happened at once. Maigo jerked, bloodshot eyes springing open. A black substance writhed out of his arms and slammed against the plastic casing, cracks spiralling along the restraints. The alarm system went off, red lights blaring into form, and then immediately died, the world plunging into darkness. Chuuwa’s hand working perfectly.

Harumi stepped back as a great shattering echoed through the room. The crackle of green lightning illuminated the room in a sickly hue. The shadows pulled Maigo’s face into sharp relief. He was standing now, panting, chest heaving with every breath. His muscles were tense, pulsing where once metal had trapped them down. His eyes swivelled to Harumi, eyes pin point sharp.

She pushed down her terror. This was the Trigger’s affect. She hadn’t wanted to be forced to use it, but it was the only option of getting the both of them out. She’d tried to use as small an amount as possible, but Trigger was overwhelming even in a limited dosage. This was necessary. 

Harumi marched forward. “Maigo. We need to go.”

Maigo with an unexpected gentleness held out his arms for Harumi to enter. She accepted, despite how vulnerable it made her. Her quirk was not made for combat, and she knew that. Held tightly in his grip, Maigo flicked one finger towards the door. The shockwave was deafening, the door flying open and breaking into a million pieces. Harumi pressed her face into Maigo’s shirt to protect herself from the shrapnel.

Maigo slid his foot backwards, pushed off from the ground - and just like that they were flying. Smoke twisted out of his body, making the already dark rooms practically impenetrable. The light of gunfire sparking against the walls and the glow of the lightning reverberating from Maigo’s body acted as strobe lights, people moving in stuttered frames as the lights dimmed and brightened.

Soon enough, they broke through the roof. Maigo pushed off, an electric bang of movement that sent them shooting through the air like a missile. The wind tore at Harumi, the Tartarus guard’s uniform barely enough to protect her.

Land came into view, and they dropped, crushing into trees to stop their fall. They rolled, dirt and grass slicing at her face and skin.

They finally came to a stop, and Harumi stared up into the open air. She picked herself off Maigo’s body, and brushed away as much of the dirt as she could. This uniform wouldn’t be useable again. Oh well, not like she would need it now anyway.

Maigo pulled himself upwards to sitting, stretching his legs while wincing. The chair he was in couldn’t have been good for him. It was lucky that the Adrenaline even worked as well as it had.

“Midoriya… ,” Maigo mumbled.

“What?” 

“That’s my name, not Maigo,” Maigo - Midoriya said absently. His head tilted to stare up at Harumi. “If you didn’t know who I was, why did you break me out?”

“You have information and talking to you wasn’t an option available to me,” Harumi replied curtly. 

Midoriya nodded in contemplation, but his eyes held even more questions. 

“… And it’s not right. For you to be in there for no reason,” She added on quietly.

Midoriya smiled slightly, expression softening at the edges.

“Thank you,” Midoriya said, green eyes filled with honesty. How could anyone with that look in his eyes be labelled a villain? Harumi had made the right decision.

Midoriya laughed softly to himself. “Oh, and they did have a reason. It just… wasn’t a good one.”

“Oh?”

He pushed himself to standing, leaning heavily on the tree beside him. “What’s the date?”

Harumi frowned at the non-sequitur. “24^th of February.”

Midoriya stopped short, staring into the sky. “So I already have it now… didn’t realise it had been so long.”

“What are you talking about?” Harumi snapped.

“Aha, sorry,” Midoriya said weakly. “This probably won’t make any sense to you. The reason I was in there, why they hid me away, was because I came back to fix things. And the only way I can do that is by tearing the HPSC down.

“I don’t have long before things began again, before the deaths number too high. So, are you with me, or are you against me?”

His green eyes burnt with determination, his words scarring the air with his very soul bared upon. Harumi could barely breathe in the face of it, in the face of his spirit so determined, so ready for his cause.

She had found the right person. The man of only a rumour, of only a glimpse in the night. The man who had touched some random person’s soul so much they had remembered them even months after.

Midoriya stood in front of her, every inch a hero. Harumi didn’t need her quirk, didn’t need the memory to sit and analyse it for hours on end to know that this was true. Midoriya was not a villain, and what he set out to do, he would accomplish. The HPSC had recognised the danger he held, and did the best they could to stifle it. And yet, Harumi knew if it hadn’t been her, Midoriya would have found a way out. He had that aura, that power that drew others to them. A lamp, leading them forward, a dream only a lucky few could ever reach out to touch.

She’d known of the HPSC corruption for aons, why’d she’d agreed to become a spy in the first place. Why her true name was lost to dust and time. 

So with ease, she stepped forwards, and took Midoriya’s hand.

“Well then, I’m at your service, Midoriya.”

Harumi couldn’t help but laugh at the blush colouring Midoriya’s cheeks.