Naomasa knew, in many ways, of humanity's many flaws. His job as a detective insured he'd be more than aware of society's worst urges.
He's seen things. Talked to people.
Held conversations with individuals without morals or empathy. Seen victims whose bodies were beyond salvage, minds shattered.
He has never seen anything as awful as this.
Walking into those hospital rooms, was like he walked into a morgue. Groups of dead-eyed, pale children, starved like strays scattered all over the place. All with the same muddled look in their eyes, faces slack and scarred over.
He moved from room 48 to room 47, making sure to walk as quietly and innocuously as possible so as to not disturb the patients and respect the nurses' wishes. The hospital workers were very persistent in letting him know that any amount of ruckus made in that particular ward would get him thrown out in less than a minute.
He couldn't blame them. Everyone was on edge, the staff, the heroes, the police. And of course, the public, who, since the story was leaked by the media have not stopped talking about the incident.
'Incident'. That's what most heroes and politicians have called it to minimize the severity of the situation. Naomasa scoffed, his face twisting in disgust until it ached.
He only had two people left to interrogate. Apparently, others involved in the case referred to simply as the 'big fish'. He understood why as soon as he started asking questions around the ward. The other victims seemed to be very worried about their well-being, asking about them to the nurses, some of them seemed to even think he would know something.
Naomasa stopped at room 50, a smaller space that from what he was told hosted only a single person. He pulled himself together taking a large breath and re-adjusting the base of his tie with a few jerky moves.
He knocked on the door but received no response. The detective slid the door open a tiny margin and upon not hearing any protest opened it all the way to step in.
The inside was as any other, a bed with towers of machines stacked around it, white walls, and a window.
The window was open and next to it on a small plastic chair sat a tall, dark-skinned woman. Her blood-red locks draped onto her shoulders, mixing into a purple blur where it contrasted against the high noon sky. She sat there, her chin propped onto the base of her upper arm that was leisurely draped across the window sill.
Her head was angled up as she gazed at the sky with an almost unnerving stillness.
Naomasa cleared his throat before announcing. "Detective Tsukauchi Naomasa, I came here to ask some questions,"
Her head turned and she looked at him. Face as if made out of stone bathed itself in shadow against the bright sky behind her. Pupils dilated, iris's blood red. Same as her hair and the undertone of her skin.
"If- If you'd let me." Tsukauchi straightened himself, he felt like a kid while simultaneously feeling way too old.
333, as the files stated in quotation marks, didn't nod but neither did she dismiss him.
He would usually sit down, however, the only chair in the room was already occupied and he wasn't too eager to sit down on the bed which he was pretty sure was stained with blood at the base like some sort of horror attraction.
Only once he got closer did Naomasa even notice that 333's legs were marred top to bottom in bandages, the layers of cloth bumpy as if they were covering some pretty deep injuries. An iv drip was also tightly attached to her left arm, the cord sneaking down to the base of the bed.

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WASP [bnha reader insert] [gender neutral]
FanfictionHanging around alone on an empty playground leads you to meet a certain blonde-haired boy with quite an explosive nature. -All of the art in this book including the cover was drawn by me. -The original characters from My Hero Academia belong to th...