Tsukauchi's point of view:

The clock struck 2:08 a.m. The office was eerily quiet except for the faint hum of the overhead lights. Most detectives had gone home hours ago, leaving the precinct a ghost town. Yet here I was, staring at my phone again, weighing the pros and cons of what I was about to do.

Calling Endeavor. At this hour.

I sighed and scrubbed a hand down my face. This was going to end badly.

Enji Todoroki wasn't known for his patience, and waking him in the middle of the night was bound to earn me some choice words. But if there was one person who could bring sheer power and presence to this case, it was him. Despite his reputation, Endeavor had always been steadfast when it came to protecting the vulnerable. And right now, this kid—Izuku Midoriya—needed more than just Aizawa's careful precision. He needed fire.

I steeled myself and dialed the number.

It rang. 

Once. 

Twice. 

Three times. 

By the fourth ring, I was starting to second-guess myself. 

Then—

Enji : "This better be important," 

The words came with a deep, gruff voice, tinged with annoyance but not fully awake.

Me: "It is," 

I said quickly, cutting off any further complaints. 

Me: "Enji, it's Tsukauchi."

Enji: "Naomasa?"

He said, his tone softening slightly. 

Enji: "What's going on? Do you have any idea what time it is?"

Me: "I know,....But this couldn't wait. I need your help. It's about a kid. A quirkless kid."

There was a pause. I could hear the faint rustle of sheets as he sat up, his breathing heavier now, more alert.

Enji: "Go on."

I exhaled slowly, relieved he wasn't chewing me out for waking him. 

Me: "You might not remember, but about ten years ago, there was a missing persons case involving a quirkless child named Izuku Midoriya. The case went cold. No leads, no evidence, nothing we could work with. It was shelved, like so many others."

Enji: "I remember,....A quirkless boy from Musutafu. The one who kept asking for help but no one listened. That case."

I swallowed hard.

Me:  "That's the one. I think he's alive, Enji. I think he's been surviving underground all this time. And now he's reaching out to us—well, to me. He's been sending information, hints. He's calling himself Sivax, but I'm sure it's him. The problem is, I don't have enough to go on yet, and the department won't reopen the case."

Enji let out a long breath. 

Enji: "Typical bureaucracy,.....What do you need from me?"

Me: "I need your strength,....This kid has been let down by the system for more than a decade. I owe it to him to do everything I can now, even if it's unofficial. But I can't do this alone. If things escalate, if he's in danger—"

Enji: "I'm in," 

Endeavor said firmly, cutting me off. 

Enji: "Whatever you need, Tsukauchi. You just say the word."

The conviction in his voice sent a wave of relief washing over me. I hadn't realized how much I needed to hear someone else say they cared about this as much as I did.

Me: "There's one catch,..." 

I said hesitantly. 

Me: "We don't know when or where yet. This Sivax—Midoriya—he's being careful. He'll let us know when he's ready, but until then, we have to wait."

Enji: "I'm not good at waiting...But I'll do it. And when the time comes, I'll be there."

I nodded, even though he couldn't see me. 

Me: "Thank you. That means a lot."

There was a brief pause, and then Enji added...

Enji: "I'll bring Touya."

That stopped me in my tracks. 

Me: "Touya?"

Enji: "He's been itching to take on something meaningful. And I trust him to handle this right. You know how he is—blunt, but he's got a good head on his shoulders. If this kid is half as clever as you say, he'll need someone who can cut through the noise."

Touya Todoroki, better known as Dabi in his hero persona, was as sharp as they came. He didn't have his father's overwhelming presence, but he had a knack for understanding people in ways most heroes didn't. If anyone could connect with a kid like Midoriya, it was him.

Me: "Alright. Bring Touya. The more help, the better."

Enji: "Good. Now, give me everything you've got so far. What do we know about this Sivax?"

I spent the next several minutes recounting everything I knew—Midoriya's emails, the hints he'd left, his apparent distrust of heroes, and the fact that he was still trying to help despite everything he'd been through. Enji listened intently, asking the occasional question but mostly letting me talk.

By the time I finished, it was nearly 2 a.m.

Enji: "Keep me updated. The moment you hear from him, I want to know. And Tsukauchi?"

Me: "Yeah?"

Enji: "You're doing the right thing," he said. "Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

His words hit harder than I expected. The same words that Eraserhead my old friend had told me too. For years, I'd carried the guilt of not being able to do more for that kid. To hear someone like Enji Todoroki—a man who'd built his entire career on strength and resolve—validate my efforts meant more than I could say.

Me: "Thanks, Enji,"

He grunted in acknowledgment, then hung up.

I leaned back in my chair, letting out a long breath. The pieces were starting to come together. With Aizawa and now Enji and Touya on board, I was beginning to feel like we might actually have a chance.

But there was still so much we didn't know, and every second we waited felt like an eternity.

Me: Hang in there, kid. We're coming for you.