….
"Now... the Vampire girl. Himiko Toga."
Jin-Ho picked up the attached photograph.
It wasn't a mugshot - not yet. It was a school photo. The girl staring back at him was young, probably seven or eight years old, flashing a bright, toothy smile.
In the current timeline, she was just a child. A 'normal' girl living a 'normal' life. But Jin-Ho knew what was bubbling under the surface of that forced normalcy.
Her Quirk had already manifested. The thirst for blood was slowly seeping in.
From what he had gathered, right now, her parents are in the deepest phase of their denial, forcing her to wear the mask of a perfect daughter, demanding she suppress the predatory instincts caused by her quirk.
They were unknowingly pressurizing a bomb, and the explosion was inevitable.
"Was it during middle school?" He murmured, searching his memory.
It was. The explosion was inevitable.
It would involve her crush, a boy - her first prey of bloody obsession, due to her quirk.
That single incident would shatter her life, turning her from a troubled child into a pariah labeled as 'human disqualified.'
She would run, the underworld would catch her, and the League of Villains would gain its most lethal infiltrator.
"Well… luckily, I still have time."
She was still young. He had a few years before the incident occurred.
He could intervene. He could provide an outlet for her Quirk before she snapped, guiding her somewhere her nature wasn't demonized.
He started to reach for a pen to make a note, but then his hand stopped mid-air.
"The chances of me not being here are quite…. possible."
The thought brought a cold splash of reality.
He cannot rule out the possibility of achieving his two [Task]'s by then, and might not need to remain in this world long enough to intervene personally.
"Again… I am glad I could rely on Giran."
Right, taking the situation into consideration, he had given Giran an insurance policy regarding Himiko Toga.
He already knows that Jin-Ho is keeping an eye on a few people, and she is one of them too, as he is the one assisting him - which was an assignment Giran had accepted without blinking.
Jin-Ho had framed it as a talent scout mission - securing a unique asset with a powerful transformation Quirk.
It was a half-truth that Giran, ever the businessman, respected.
Anyway, the instructions were direct - keep distant tabs on her. Look for signs of distress, social isolation, or the manic behavior that precedes a break.
If Jin-Ho was still here when Himiko's life began to fracture, he would intervene personally.
And if he wasn't?
Giran had his orders.
The broker would step out of the shadows and offer the girl an alternative to the alleys - a lifeline that didn't lead to the League of Villains.
Satisfied with that, Jin-Ho's gaze shifted to the next names on the list.
Danjuro Tobita.
And Manami Aiba.
"Let's just be frank, I like this duo. Their antics feel more like mischief than actual villainy."
Gentle Criminal. And La Brava–
The future 'Internet Villains' whose crimes were more performance art creating small upsets than menaces.
Danjuro Tobita was twenty-four.
He was drifting through the darkest period of his life - post-expulsion, disowned by his parents, working dead-end construction jobs while the dream of heroism turned into a bitter, shapeless regret.
And Manami Aiba?
She was thirteen. A middle schooler.
She wasn't the brilliant hacker 'La Brava' yet, nor was she the shut-in hiding from the sun.
She was just a girl on the precipice of her own tragedy, likely writing the very love letter that would lead to her rejection and subsequent isolation.
Jin-Ho marked them as low priority.
"Hmm, should maybe recruit Danjuro already, or should I wait to recruit both at one time?"
He contemplated. However, that confusion vanished as he turned to the next profile–
Kai Chisaki.
Overhaul.
Of all the villains Jin-Ho had cataloged, of all the threats lurking in the dark, Kai Chisaki was uniquely monstrous.
Not because his ambitions were the grandest, or his power the strongest, but because of the clinical, sanitized cruelty he employed.
Jin-Ho recalled what he knew about the young man who would become Overhaul.
Right now, Kai was likely in his late teens or early twenties, climbing the ranks of the yakuza organization - Shie Hassaikai.
The old boss had taken him in, treated him like a son, and given him a code.
But Kai was already twisting that code. He was already obsessed with his 'cure,' driven by a pathological belief that Quirks were a plague that needed to be sterilized.
He wanted to return the Yakuza to glory, and the method he would choose made Jin-Ho's stomach turn.
It all came down to a little girl.
A child who didn't even exist yet.
Eri.
She would be the granddaughter of the man Kai called father.
That connection should have been a shield–
Instead, Kai would turn it into a sentence.
When her Quirk eventually manifested - a power so volatile it would erase her own father - Kai wouldn't see a tragedy.
He would see raw material.
He would see a bullet factory.
Jin-Ho's hands clenched into fists, the knuckles white.
He knew about the 'experiments' - the cycle of disassembling a screaming child and putting her back together, over and over, harvesting her blood to sell as a weapon.
Eri wouldn't be born for another year or two. Her mother was likely pregnant now, or would be soon.
"I still believe that just going straight up and killing him off is the right way."
Jin-Ho wasn't joking, or was he simply venting. He was simply running a most-benefit analysis.
If he walked into the Shie Hassaikai compound tonight and put a bullet in Kai Chisaki's head, he would save Eri from a hell that words failed to describe.
And if he did nothing, Eri would suffer years of torture. She would be trapped in a nightmare, used as a living experiment, her childhood stolen and replaced with nothing but pain and fear.
By the time the heroes finally discovered what was happening to her, the damage would be profound.
Jin-Ho had come up with a compromise, a plan that would take years to implement but might save Eri without requiring him to become a killer or kidnapper.
He would infiltrate the Shie Hassaikai.
Using Giran as a proxy, Jin-Ho would slowly integrate himself into the Yakuza's supply chain, and maintain close monitoring on their movements.
"Man, I know I shouldn't, but it's actually a bit funny."
He was plotting to rescue a girl who wasn't born yet.
Jin-Ho closed his eyes, exhaling a long, steady breath to center himself.
He needed to switch gears. He needed to—
The lounge door slid open.
Jin-Ho didn't jump, but the sudden intrusion made his heart skip a beat.
He casually swept the dossiers into a nondescript folder, covering the motion by reaching for his cold tea.
Shota Aizawa shuffled in.
He didn't acknowledge Jin-Ho immediately.
He moved with the silent, efficient sluggishness, heading straight for the coffee machine.
"You are still here…"
It wasn't a question. His voice was dry, gravel scraping against concrete. He stared blankly at the dripping coffee.
"Just wrapping up, Aizawa Sensei. There is always one more form to fill out, isn't there?"
Aizawa turned slowly. His eyes, bloodshot and sharp, swept over Jin-Ho - not a casual glance, but an assessment. He looked at the neat stack of papers, then at Jin-Ho's posture.
"The curriculum for the first years isn't that demanding." Aizawa noted, finally taking his cup. "If you are struggling with the workload, you are managing your time poorly."
"Ouch. Brutal honesty." Jin-Ho chuckled, though he noted the scrutiny. "I am just thorough. Unlike some people, I don't have the luxury of sleeping in a yellow sleeping bag during homeroom."
Aizawa took a sip of the scalding coffee without flinching. "That's called efficiency. You should try it."
He walked toward the door, his captured weapon shifting slightly around his neck like a living thing. He paused with his hand on the frame.
"Don't burn yourself out, Jin-Ho."
Jin-Ho blinked. "Concern? From Eraserhead? I should probably record this."
"Are you always this annoying?"
"Pretty much, Sensei. It's part of my charm." Jin-Ho grinned. "Present Mic appreciates it, at least."
"Present Mic appreciates anything loud and chaotic."
"Which explains why you two are friends."
"I am going to leave now." Aizawa said, already moving toward the door. "If you collapse from exhaustion, I have to cover your classes. I don't want to do that. Go home."
"Right. Understood."
"Goodnight."
The door slid shut, cutting off the sliver of light from the hallway.
Jin-Ho let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.
Aizawa was sharp, too sharp, and the man noticed everything. Being around him while plotting the downfall of criminal syndicates was like walking through a laser grid.
"Note to self." Jin-Ho muttered, standing up and grabbing his coat. "Do not underestimate the hobo."
He gathered his secrets, turned off the lights, and stepped out into the corridor.
The evening air outside was crisp, biting at his exposed skin. Above the U.A. campus, the stars were beginning to pierce the twilight.
It was peaceful. Quiet.
For now.
Tomorrow, he will teach history and math.
But tonight?
Before he could call it a day, he had just one more 'thing' to do…
"Just you wait, fire cracker, you will be meeting your fathers greatest admirer soon."
….
.
[To be continued…]
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