Flea

Chapter Forty One

The Yokohama Chief of Police was having a very bad day. In fact, in his 24 years on the force, he couldn't remember a worse one. Excluding the great YPD prank war dark ages, but he wouldn't get into that. God, there'd been enough peanut butter on the walls to last a lifetime - seriously, he couldn't see a container of the crunchy kind without shuddering. 

Anyway. 

Several city blocks had been reduced to rubble, All Might was retired, the number of casualties sat at an estimated 2,000 and were still rising, while petty criminals, always opportunists, wreaked havoc in the rest of the ward unopposed. It was about to get even worse because he was standing outside a shabby hospital door with suspicious dents, wondering how the world could come to this. 

He'd been sorely tempted to get one of the lackeys to deliver the message - a detective from Musutafu and several intelligence officers were already inside - but that just wasn't how these things were done. The least he could do for the girl was have the decency to break bad news in person. 

The Chief rapped warped wood with his knuckles and it took a few heartbeats for the sound of temporary security measures to be put in place. Swinging open, the door revealed a wall of surprisingly well dressed muscle. 

"Ah, hey Chief. Long day?" Gang Orca rumbled, needing to bend slightly in the doorway. His blood-red eyes quickly surveyed every detail of the newcomer's appearance and bearing, unintentionally scathing as usual. 

"You could say that. Nothing compared to some other poor sods, though. How's she doing?" 

The pro hero fully stepped out into the hall, swinging the door shut behind him until only a crack remained, before shrugging his gargantuan shoulders and sighing, "She was bad when we first brought her in. The drugs hadn't fully worn off yet, so she was delirious, muttering all the time. I think right after, she couldn't process it all, so just followed normal routine with healing Best Jeanist. I still have no idea if we should have let her. The girl saved his life, but at what cost?"

"It's a shame we've needed to butt in like this, only every hour we leave questioning is more time for the bastards to wriggle further out of our clutches." 

"Maeve understands that, though it's put her in an... Interesting mood. Once her father arrived, she seemed to pull herself together with a will of iron, honestly, I don't know how someone can put THAT much trauma to the side. She let her nurse friend run some tests, so we've got DNA samples, though she washed beforehand when she was still in shock. Not sure how much we lost."    

The Chief raised his eyebrows. If it had been any other case, and any other victim, he would have, pardon his french, lost his shit. That was invaluable evidence gone, quite literally, down the drain. However, he managed to keep calm. 

"How are her witness statements?" 

The killer whale hero merely chuckled softly and shook his head in reply. It either implied he was too awed for words or was laughing about a hopeless case. The Chief really wasn't sure which, so he decided to see for himself and pushed through into the rather cramped hospital room.  

"Wait, you said that? Those exact words?" Detective Tsukauchi giggled to a girl in the hospital bed, notebook sitting forgotten in his lap.  

"Yeah. A large portion of my friends are vagrants with terrible facial hair, I was telling the truth. It was already obvious he had a developed Jehovah complex so, at the time, I felt I needed to begin some psychoanalytical profiling. By saying 'the only thing Jesus and I have in common are a tendency to hang out with bearded homeless men,' I was inviting All for One to open up about his own narcissism and potential weaknesses, while simultaneously making myself appear less of a threat and putting him at ease with my sparkling sense of humour."