Always Late
Scene 1 - The Raid
The air was filled with the stench of mold and gasoline, mixing with the faint, acrid odor of chemicals from the drug operation. Crates and barrels were haphazardly stacked around the vast space, creating a labyrinth of makeshift obstacles.
Ian ducked behind a rusting metal barrel just as a thug's bat swung through the space his head had occupied a fraction of a second earlier.
"Where the hell is he?" one of the thugs shouted. The other two grunted, their eyes darting around, trying to catch a glimpse of the intruder.
Ian assessed the situation. The three thugs were armed, but uncoordinated. He couldn't help but chuckle to himself.
'Great job, Ian. Supposed to get here before the meeting started, but no, you had to be late. For someone so fast I am late way too often.'
"There!" a villain shouted.
One thug swung a pipe at Ian, who sidestepped effortlessly, his body a blur. "Nice try," Ian said, his voice light. "You get extra points for the effort!"
The thug growled in frustration, swinging again, but Ian was already gone, zipping around to stand behind him. "Boo," he whispered, causing the thug to yelp and stumble forward.
Ian's heart pounded in his chest, the adrenaline coursing through his veins as he kept his eyes on the exits. 'Gotta wrap this up before the big guy bolts.'
Another thug lunged at Ian with a knife, but he easily dodged, spinning away and letting the thug's momentum carry him into a stack of crates. The wood splintered under the impact, and the criminal crumpled to the ground, groaning.
"Oops," Ian said with a grin. "Didn't see that coming, did you?"
Ian looked around for the body of the villain he knocked out right when he arrived at the warehouse.
'Now where did I leave Broker-kun at?'
He looked around. Scattered crates, barrels, discarded tools... Ah, there was the guy! And what's more —tall, corpulent, and impeccably dressed. Greenfinger was still there, rummaging through the pockets of the unconscious man.
Greenfinger. The villain was the main star of that shady meeting.
'What’s he up to?' Ian wondered, watching the villain. 'Why hasn’t he run?'
As Ian observed, Greenfinger pulled a small notebook from the unconscious man's pocket. 'Ah, the big guy also thought about taking the contact list with him!' Ian realized.
Ian's initial plan had been to disrupt the drug deal, scare off the participants and take the contact list from the broker for the Safety Commission, but now he'd need to take it from Greenfinger, by force. He took a deep breath, readying himself.
"Yo! Aren't you that villain guy, Greaseflinger was it?"
Greenfinger’s head snapped up, his eyes narrowing. "Hmph. Not only was your entrance pathetically timed, but now you come at me with insults too?"
"Oh come on, don't blame me for being late. Traffic was a nightmare."
With a flourish, Greenfinger gestured, and vines erupted from the ground, snaking towards Ian with alarming speed. Ian's world slowed down as he watched the plants grow, calculating his next move.
He zipped to the side, avoiding the vines easily. "Gotta be quicker than that," he taunted, darting around Greenfinger to test his reflexes.
Greenfinger’s hands moved in a series of intricate gestures, and more plants sprang forth, creating a living barrier between him and Ian. The villain directed the vines with precise movements, trying to trap the speedster in their grasp.
He zipped behind Greenfinger, aiming a swift kick at the villain's legs. Greenfinger didn't fall, and barely staggered.
"I must admit," Greenfinger said, his voice calm "you are quite the nuisance."
"Thanks," Ian replied, grinning. "I try."
Ian dashed again, but this time the villain was prepared. A sturdy log sprouted from the ground right in front of Ian, disrupting his step and causing him to stumble forward. His crash was only amplified by the superhuman speed at which he was moving.
The speedster got up as fast as he could. The villain was moving away. The narrow aisle between the stacks of crates and barrels offered Ian a clear path to Greenfinger.
Ian tensed, ready to dart forward, but then he heard footsteps echoing from the other side. He turned to see a new group of thugs entering the narrow space, these ones armed with firearms. They spread out, aiming their weapons at Ian, effectively trapping him between them and Greenfinger.
'Surrounded,' Ian thought, his mind racing. 'Oh well. I was just warming up.'
The thugs opened fire, and Ian pushed his Quirk to its limits. The world around him slowed to a near standstill. He watched as the bullets crept through the air at a snail's pace, their trajectories clear and predictable.
With a burst of speed, Ian moved. The first thug's bullet was inches from leaving the barrel when Ian disarmed him, tossing the weapon aside and knocking him out with a swift jab to the temple. He moved to the next criminal, deftly avoiding the bullets and disarming him with a quick twist and a punch. Each movement was precise and almost leisurely in the slowed-down perception of his max speed.
Ian moved from thug to thug, disarming, incapacitating, and moving on before they could react. The bullets hung in the air, frozen in their paths, as Ian cleared the narrow space of threats. In what felt like an eternity but was merely a few seconds, all the armed villains were down.
His 10 seconds at max speed weren't up yet. But he was going to cut it close. He darted towards Greenfinger without thinking. The villain stood behind a thick, conjured wooden barrier. Mid-air Ian noticed the sharp branches sprouting from it. Greenfinger had predicted Ian would lunge at him ad superspeed and had already prepared this last line of defense.
But Ian wasn't going be intimidated by a few splinters!
As Ian reached out for the notebook, his accelerated perception of time began to dwindle. His muscles strained as he twisted mid-air, attempting to avoid the sharp branches that now seemed to move like lethargic snakes in the air. Despite his agility, one of the branches managed to slice across his shoulder and chest, leaving a deep gash.
With a final burst of speed, Ian seized the notebook just as his ten seconds at max speed expired. He stumbled as he landed, the world snapping back to normal around him. Panting heavily, Ian found himself a step behind Greenfinger, who had turned to face him with a mixture of frustration and annoyance.
"You know, I think us meeting will do wonders to you." Ian quipped through labored breaths, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Cause maybe chasing me around will help you lose a bit of weight."
Greenfinger's expression darkened, his jaw tightening. Without a word, he swung a backhand at Ian with surprising speed and force. The blow caught Ian off guard, sending him sprawling backward, gasping for air as pain shot through his chest.
For a moment, Ian struggled to regain his bearings. The impact had knocked the wind out of him, leaving him vulnerable. He assessed the situation, adrenaline surging to combat the throbbing pain. He saw a sharp branch hurtling towards him, aimed at where he had fallen just moments ago.
Instinct kicked in. With a burst of agility, Ian rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding the deadly branch that embedded itself into the concrete floor. He pushed himself up onto shaky legs, eyes never leaving Greenfinger, who was already conjuring another set of vines and branches.
Ian's senses heightened as he heard the distant wail of police sirens approaching the warehouse. They were followed by the unmistakable sounds of heroes on their way. 'About time,' Ian thought, his mind already shifting gears. His mission had been to disrupt the drug dealing and gather intel, not to apprehend Greenfinger, though that would have been a very nice bonus.
With Greenfinger preparing another attack, Ian made a split-second decision. He pushed his speed to the limit once more, a blur of motion as he dodged Greenfinger's incoming strike. In a swift move, Ian stepped on Greenfinger's arm and then his face, using the villain's body as a launchpad to propel himself out of the building and into the cool night air.
The rush of wind and the adrenaline coursing through him drowned out the pain from his wound. Ian streaked through the darkness, leaving the warehouse behind. He glanced back briefly to see Greenfinger emerging from the building, his expression twisted with rage and frustration.
After a few seconds, Greenfinger turned around to leave as well. He had no plans to stick around and face the heroes. He did, however, break the blood-covered branch that had injured Ian, and take it with him.
Interlude
A short time later, near the station.
Ian stood in front of a secluded coin locker. He carefully placed the notebook inside, ensuring it was hidden from view. His wound, though still tender, had begun to close already.
Ian knew the routine well. He was supposed to leave the evidence in the locker for pickup by someone from the Hero Public Safety Commission. It had been weeks since he'd received direct contact from them, but they had never failed to retrieve the evidence he left behind in previous missions.
They'll come, Ian reassured himself, closing the locker and locking it securely. He pocketed the key and turned away, heading into the night with a sense of accomplishment. As he headed home, his mind shifted to the next task at hand—his covert mission at Shiketsu High, which was scheduled to begin tomorrow. He couldn't afford to be late.
Scene 2 - Introduction
Ian was late.
Morning came too quickly, and despite his best efforts, Ian found himself pushing the limits of his super speed just to make it to Shiketsu High on time. The wind whipped past him as he raced through the streets, weaving through traffic and pedestrians.
With a burst of speed, Ian arrived at the gates of Shiketsu High just as the first bell rang. He skidded to a stop, his breath coming in quick gasps. Straightening his uniform and smoothing back his hair, he entered the school grounds with determined steps.
Inside the classroom, Rosethorn-sensei, stood at the front, commanding the attention of the students. The room fell silent as she cleared her throat, preparing to introduce the new transfer student.
"Class, settle down," Rosethorn-sensei said firmly. "We have a new student joining us today. Please give him your attention."
All eyes turned towards Ian as he stepped forward, feeling a mixture of nerves and excitement. He cleared his throat, preparing to introduce himself.
"Hello, everyone," Ian began, his voice steady despite the racing of his heart. "My name is Ian Takenaka. I'm looking forward to getting to know all of you and learning together."
As Ian spoke, a girl from a group of Korean students sitting together wrinkled her nose and sniffed the air.
"Does anyone else smell burnt rubber?" she asked aloud, her brow furrowing in confusion.
Ian's gaze dropped to his feet, where he noticed for the first time that the soles of his shoes had melted and warped from the intense friction caused by his super-speed dash to school.
A moment of awkward silence hung in the air until a blonde boy sitting at the back of the classroom broke the tension with a teasing remark.
"So, your Quirk is melting shoes, huh?" he quipped with a grin.
Laughter rippled through the classroom, easing the tension and drawing a sheepish smile from Ian. He rubbed the back of his neck, chuckling along with the students.