The morning after I discovered the name "Yozakura" felt like the dawn of a dangerous new era. I walked into the agency's main operations room, the old case file feeling heavy in my hand. I hadn't slept all night. My mind kept racing, trying to formulate a scenario on how best to present this information without arousing undue suspicion. Being an "analytical genius" was one thing; being a "prophet" who knew impossible things was another that could land me in a very uncomfortable interrogation room.
When the morning meeting began, I waited for the right moment. After Ryukyu finished her summary of the previous night's failure, I raised my hand. "Ryukyu-san, I might have found something," I said, trying to make my voice sound hesitant. "It might just be a coincidence, but..."
I displayed the old case file on the main screen. "I was going through old cases with similar characteristics—professional assassinations, high-level victims, no traces. I found this case from twelve years ago. A failed assassination attempt on a politician. The report mentions two very young perpetrators. One was captured." I zoomed in on the interrogation transcript. "Before dying of 'complications,' the captured perpetrator kept muttering one word. Yozakura."
A silence fell over the room. All eyes were on that word. Yozakura. The Night-Blooming Cherry Blossom. A poetic and beautiful name, a stark contrast to the deadly nature of the person we were hunting.
"A name..." Ryukyu whispered, her eyes narrowing in concentration. "This is more than a hunch. This is our first concrete lead." She looked at me, her gaze sharp. "Good work, Tatsumi-kun. Very good." She turned to the team. "Alright, everyone, you have a new task. Forget about the next target. Now, we hunt a name. I want you to scour everything you can about 'Yozakura.' Business registries, folklore, underworld slang, historical archives. I want to know if this name has ever appeared anywhere else."
Our team—me, Nejire, Uraraka, and Tsuyu—turned into a dedicated research unit. We spent hours in front of data terminals, sifting through a sea of digital information. Nejire, with her typical energy, threw out various theories. "Maybe it's their leader's favorite flower! Or maybe it's the code for their secret operation, like 'Operation Night Sakura'! Or maybe they all have cherry blossom tattoos!" Uraraka patiently tried to keep their search focused, while Tsuyu pragmatically filtered out irrelevant information. "We should focus on criminal connections or suspicious businesses, kero. Not on botany."
I myself acted as an unseen guide, gently steering their search. "Try looking for shell companies or businesses with strange financial records," I suggested. "An organization like this needs a flow of funds and a base of operations."
In the midst of the investigation, Ryukyu pulled me back to Training Room Gamma. "This case is important," she said as we stood in the middle of the cold room. "But your development is just as important. The killer won't wait for you to be ready. You have to be ready now."
Our training became more intense. The goal was no longer just to manifest the armor, but to do so with speed and fluidity. "Your enemy won't give you time to pose and call upon your power," Ryukyu said. "You have to be able to switch from offense to defense, from speed to power, in the blink of an eye."
She activated a new training program. The drones no longer just shot randomly; they moved in coordinated attack patterns, trying to surround me, forcing me to constantly move and react. "Don't just block!" she yelled from the sidelines. "Block, counter, and move! Make your armor a part of your dance!"
At first, I was overwhelmed. I could summon a gauntlet to block, but when I tried to summon a leg guard to dodge, the gauntlet would disappear. Controlling two separate manifestations on different parts of the body simultaneously required an incredible level of concentration. Energy pellets hit me repeatedly, each sting a reminder of my failure.
"Your focus is split!" Ryukyu corrected. "Don't think of them as four separate powers. They all come from one source. One will. Your will. Feel the flow. Don't command it to go to your arm, then to your leg. Command it to be your arm and your leg at the same time."
I took a deep breath, ignoring the pain and exhaustion. I closed my eyes and felt the dragon's heartbeat within me. I no longer pleaded with it. I became one with it. I imagined myself as the center of a system, and Incursio was an extension of my intent.
When the next drone fired, I reacted. The right gauntlet formed to parry the pellet. But this time, I didn't stop there. Without a pause, I felt the left leg guard form, and I used it to slide to the side, dodging a second shot. Then, the leg guard vanished and the left gauntlet appeared to strike a drone that got too close. Block. Dodge. Attack. My movements began to flow. There was still pain, still strain, but now there was a rhythm. I had reached the next level of control.
After that brutal training session, we all took a break for lunch. It was a rare moment of calm, and a chance for us to be ordinary teenagers, not hero interns hunting a killer.
"I still can't believe you can eat that level-five spicy katsudon," Uraraka said, looking at my tray with a mixture of horror and awe.
I just shrugged. "Training makes me hungry."
"Hungry or not, your stomach must be made of steel," Nejire joked. She leaned towards me, her eyes sparkling. "So, so, if you can make armor on your arms and legs, can you make a helmet too? Will the visor be red like the gem on your chest when you fought Bakugo? Can you see in the dark with it? Or maybe have a heads-up display like in a video game?"
"Nejire-senpai," Tsuyu interrupted patiently. "Let him eat, kero."
I laughed. "I don't know, Hado-senpai. I'm just learning how to walk. You're already asking if I can run a marathon."
This light interaction felt like an anchor. In the midst of all the madness, danger, and pressure, it was simple moments like these that I was fighting for.
The investigation continued without results for another day. The name "Yozakura" was like a ghost, leaving no trace in any public or criminal records. The team was getting frustrated. That night, when the others had returned to their rooms, I stayed behind in the operations room, unable to sleep. I knew they were looking in the wrong place. An organization like this wouldn't use their name overtly. They would hide in plain sight.
Using my knowledge, I began to filter the data with different parameters. I looked for long-standing traditional businesses with nonsensical financial records—mediocre income but incredibly high operational expenses, or frequent major "renovations" with no significant exterior changes. I asked for help from Uraraka, who turned out to have a natural talent for spotting irregularities in financial reports.
After hours of digging, we found it. A high-class traditional teahouse and inn in the city's old district, named "Yozakura no Chaya"—The Teahouse of the Night-Blooming Cherry Blossom. From the outside, it was a respectable and tranquil business. But its financial records were a labyrinth of shell companies, and its blueprints showed extensive unrecorded underground spaces. It was the perfect facade.
I immediately brought my findings to Ryukyu. She stared at the data on the screen, her eyes narrowing as she connected the dots. "A teahouse..." she whispered. "Hiding in plain sight. So clever." The atmosphere in the room changed instantly. We were no longer chasing a ghost. We had found its lair.
Ryukyu immediately formulated a plan. "A direct assault is too risky. We don't know how many of them are inside or how strong their defenses are. We need to conduct reconnaissance first," she said firmly. "My pro-sidekicks and I will conduct surveillance tonight. The rest of you stay here, at the agency, as the support team. Do not leave this building. Understood?"
"I'm going," I said without hesitation.
Ryukyu looked at me, her eyebrows raised. "That's too dangerous, Tatsumi-kun. You're still an intern."
"With all due respect, Ryukyu-san," I insisted. "You were the one who said my perception was an asset. Out there, on the field, I might be able to see or feel something that no one else can. Something related to the killer. I won't engage. I won't get close. I'll just observe from a distance, acting as an extra pair of eyes."
Nejire, who was standing by the door, chimed in. "She's right, Ryukyu! His special senses could be super useful! I can fly with him and make sure he stays at a safe distance!"
Ryukyu looked at me for a long time, weighing the risks and potential rewards. I could see the struggle in her eyes. Finally, she sighed. "Alright," she said reluctantly. "But under very strict conditions. You and Nejire will take a position on the farthest rooftop. You will act only as lookouts. You report anything you see, but you do not, under any circumstances, approach or engage. Am I clear?"
"Crystal clear," I replied with a firm nod.
An hour later, we were in the prep room. I wore a plain black tactical outfit, nothing like my hero costume. I only carried a communicator and binoculars. Nejire floated beside me, her usually cheerful face now showing a serious, focused expression. Ryukyu gave her team a final briefing, pointing to the teahouse's layout on the screen.
I felt my dragon's heart pulse slowly in my chest, a cold anticipation. I was about to willingly walk into a snake's nest, getting closer to the only person in this world who might share a strange connection to my past.
Ryukyu turned to all of us. "Alright, team," she said over the comms, her voice calm and sharp. "We move in five."