Chapter Text
There were five of them.
"Identify yourselves," Aizawa ordered, tightening his grip on his capture weapon as he took in the scene before him.
Two of the strangers were crouched over an obviously injured third, while the remaining two flanked them on either side. The one standing closest to Aizawa took a step forward, palms raised and open in a gesture of peace. "We mean no harm," they said calmly. "We only seek medical assistance."
Their voice was steady, their posture relaxed, but Aizawa wasn’t fooled. The person closest to him was already facing Aizawa when the hero had stepped into the clearing—they knew he was coming.
Black ops? Mercenaries? Aizawa's mind raced. The lack of unit patches or any identifying marks to mark affiliation was ominous against the matching black gear and grey armor. And then there were the masks—bone-white, streaked with blood-red. Aizawa had never seen or heard of a group, legal or otherwise, that wore such distinctive masks.
“Identify yourselves,” Aizawa repeated, harsher this time.
"I'm Viper," the man on his left said, pointing to his team member standing opposite him. "That’s Ox, she has a shoulder injury. Turtle is taking care of Lion, and the one without a mask is Kakashi-sama." He gestured to each in turn. "We’re an ANBU team hired to escort Kakashi-sama through the Fire Nation. We were ambushed by enemy shinobi, and fled using a faulty seal, but I suspect we are in a different dimension, far from home. We mean no harm. We just wish to tend to our injured, and then make our way back.”
It was worse because of how sincere the stranger sounded.
Shinobi - Aizawa bit back his first response. Faulty SEAL? He bit back his second response. He finally landed on: "A different dimension?"
"We don't recognize half of the flora to be from any of the five nations. And we would know, trust me," Viper half-shrugged. "Seeing you made it a lot more obvious though. You're clearly trained for some level of combat but ..." This time Viper actually shrugged and seesawed his hand in what was apparently the trans-dimensional gesture for meh.
That was Thursday.
——
"How is it still Thursday," Aizawa demanded.
"If that's how you feel already, you're definitely going to need this," Detective Tsukauchi set a steaming cup of coffee down in front of him. "I've got good news and bad news."
Aizawa, still massaging his temples, waved at the detective to continue.
"The good news is that our travelers are likely telling the truth about dimension travel. They come from a world without quirks but the two named Viper and Ox are sane and logical albeit with gaps of knowledge that are consistent with their claims. They also passed the reality check questions but failed the time check questions. They know flowers, cups and books... but don't recognize cars, cellphones and computers. Whatever world they're from, it's a pre-industrial society. Also, Chiyo-san has reported that their physiology is close to human but... not quite. She couldn't describe it any other way."
Aizawa blinked at him. “We have aliens from another dimension, and this is good news?"
"They're just as keen to return to their world as we are to get them out,” Tsukauchi replied. “They can’t because of the injured one - Lion. He was the one who did the actual dimension jumping which is part of the reason why he’s comatose. Suzuki-san from Central Hospital tells me he is in critical condition but the hospital staff is working closely with their medic Turtle. Despite the differences in our physiology, our technology has been effective in stabilizing him. Turtle is currently waiting to re-establish communication with Viper and Ox to determine a long term treatment plan. I just finished questioning them.”
Aizawa read between the lines: They had leverage against these unknowns. As long as Central Hospital provided medical support for Lion, the dimension hopping aliens would likely remain cooperate.They had already surrended their weapons and were submitting to the interrogations that HPSC had demanded.
"So what’s the bad news?"
Tsukuauchi hesitated. "I read your report. You mentioned that they identified as an anbu team."
"Yes," Aizawa took a sip of his coffee. Double-shot cafe latte. The detective remembered his favorite. "Black(暗) ops(部). An(暗) bu(部)."
Tsukauchi tapped the manila folders he had against his leg in thought. "Yes, but not quite. It's an abbreviation. For an(暗)satsu senjutsu tokushu bu(部)tai."
The hero spat out his coffee. "They're an assassination and tactical team?"
"Yes. Kakashi-kun is someone much more important than they let on if someone hired an entire assassination team to keep him safe. He's the last interview I have left," Tsukauchi sighed. “Let’s see if I can figure out why.”
——
The boy who appeared with a team of professional assassins for protection was exactly as described in the report: silver-haired, scrawny, and dressed in matching black tactical gear. Probably a teenager, somewhere between fifteen and eighteen, Aizawa had written. Tsukauchi wasn’t sure how the hero had pinpointed the boy’s age, especially given that only a quarter of his face was visible between his headband and mask.
"Hello, Kakashi-kun. I’m Detective Tsukauchi." Tsukauchi closed the door behind him carefully, his eyes never leaving the boy. "I’ll be asking you a few questions today."
Kakashi’s gaze flicked to the door as it closed, before it turned back to the detective, sizing him up in silence.There was no other reaction as Tsukauchi sat down across from him.
And that was the other thing noted in Aizawa’s report—how eerily still the kid was. It wasn’t just that he was quiet; it was the absolute lack of movement, the perfect stillness in his posture. It was unnatural, and unnerving.
“I want to start by assuring you that you aren’t in trouble. We just need to confirm a few things.”
"You spoke to my team already?"
Almighty, he sounded young.
Tsukauchi pushed that troubling thought aside to take mental note of what the boy said: My team. There was a sense of responsibility there
"Yes, with both of them. And that's why I'm going to offer you the same courtesy by warning you beforehand that my quirk is detecting lies. I ask you speak the truth, and this will be over faster for both or us."
Most people, intimidated by the prospect of talking to a human lie detector, clammed up at that point in Tsukauchi’s experience. Not Kakashi.
“Two truths and a lie,” Kakashi said. “Tell me which is which. I graduated the Academy when I was six. My clan hails from Iron. Viper’s favorite drink is beer.”
“Uhh...” Tsukauchi blinked, struggling to process. "That... was two lies and only one truth."
His quirk was clear: truth, lie, lie. That was one truth and two lies. Yet Kakashi's previous declaration had also registered as truth.
"Interesting,” Kakashi remarked, his single exposed dark eye gleaming with something that might have been curiosity—or calculation. “So you can tell whether a statement about my knowledge of another person's subjective preferences is true or false.
"Clearly your ... 'quirk' is based on the speaker's knowledge and intentions rather than reality. That makes more sense—if it were the latter, and your quirk was based on objective truth, you wouldn't have to interrogate me at all and could just ask anyone else your questions instead," Kakashi sat back in his chair with his arms crossed across his stomach. "Judging by your shock, my original statement did ring as true, which it should have. I meant to give you two truths and a lie but I changed my mind.”
A beat of silence hung in the air. Kakashi studied him, head tilted like a hunting dog.
"I see why you're in investigations rather that counter-terrorism or other preventive work. Your ability has obvious weaknesses if you aren't asking fact based questions."
Tsukauchi’s mouth went dry. He had to stop himself from gaping. Kakashi’s points were all correct. The detective’s quirk—while incredibly useful—could be tricked though it wasn't actually as simple as 'changing your mind.' That was why Tsukauchi typically told people his quirk before starting questioning.
To fool his quirk, you had to believe what you were saying, like you believed the sky is blue and the fall of gravity, the way you knew your own name: beyond every fiber of your being and without a hint of doubt.
It took HPSC agents weeks if not months of anti-interrogation training before they ever succeeded, and much longer to be able to consistently fool the Lie Detector quirk.
But here was Kakashi, after barely five minutes, not only understanding the limits of Tsukauchi’s quirk but exploiting it with the ease of someone who had been doing it for years. Tsukauchi's mind raced. What the fuck.
——
Still, as if satisfied of showing that he could defeat the Lie Detector Quirk, Kakashi was willing to answer Tsukauchi’s questions, and his story aligned with what Viper and Ox had said: they were traveling through enemy territory when they were ambushed by enemy shinobi. In the chaos, Lion had used a seal meant to translocate them to a safe haven. But something had gone wrong. Instead of finding safety, they ended up in the Beast’s Forest.
The details matched too perfectly. Tsukauchi couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that there was something off about the entire account. The story was too rehearsed, too smooth. Every detail seemed intentionally vague, just enough to be plausible, but not enough to feel entirely genuine. But they were telling the truth about being from a different dimension. What other truth could there be that was so valuable they needed to hide?
What bothered Tsukauchi most, however, was the strange aggression that Kakashi casually displayed. Viper and Ox had been cooperative, almost overly deferential in their responses.
In contrast, Kakashi’s answers were calm, controlled with an edge to them. A quiet confidence that bordered on arrogance. It wasn’t the sort of bravado that came with youth. This was something more. Something calculated. Tsukauchi knew it well—he’d seen it before and it made Tsukauchi uneasy to see such anti-interrogation skills in a child. Was Kakashi really just a client with hired protection—or was there something more that was going on?
“Tell me about your team,” Tsukauchi tried.
Without missing a beat, Kakashi replied, “Revealing the identity of ANBU is tantamount to treason and punished by execution.”
The detective paused. That response was nearly identical, word-for-word, to what Viper and Ox had said. It heavily implied that Kakashi knew the identities of his team members but was refusing to share them and if the punishment for revealingthe identity of ANBU was execution, then Tsukauchi was certain the identities themselves were fiercely guarded. A mere client—even a repeat VIP— shouldn’t be privy to such information. Kakashi was clearly hiding something.
"How long have you known Viper?”
Kakashi blinked, as though surprised by the shift in the conversation. "A couple of years, at least."
"Ox?"
"I met her later than Viper. The following winter."
"Turtle?"
"This is my first time working with him."
"Lion?"
"A decently long time. His teacher was friends with my father."
And there was the briefest pause on that last word. For the first time, Tsukauchi saw something flicker briefly in the boy's face.
Tsukauchi tapped his pen against his clipboard. If Kakashi had a preexisting personal relationship with one member of his guard, it made more sense that Kakashi personally knew the others. But Tsukauchi's gut was telling him there was something more.
"How much longer?" Tsukauchi pressed, watching Kakashi closely. “With Lion, I mean. How long have you known him?"
“…Tell me, Tsukauchi-san," Kakashi’s single eye curved into a smile. It was the most insincere smile Tsukauchi had ever seen, and he dealt with politicians on a weekly basis. "Will I ever get a chance to talk Aizawa-san or will he just continue to watch us like a pervert?"
——
It took every ounce of restraint for Tsukauchi not to react outwardly to that. Kakashi was obviously changing the subject and the attempt was blunt but effective because Aizawa was behind the one-way mirror, observing the proceedings from the other side. As a teacher at UA High School, Aizawa had been designated as the neutral third party and acting guardian of Kakashi, who was clearly a minor, to oversee the interview and advocate for Kakashi’s well-being.
But how did Kakashi know? Tsukauchi hadn’t expected someone from a supposedly pre-industrial society, someone with so little exposure to modern law enforcement, to recognize the setup. Even if Kakashi did recognize it, why would he expect Aizawa—who, Kakashi wouldn’t have seen since Kakashi was transferred into police custody hours ago—would be watching him now?
Unless Kakashi somehow really knew Aizawa was there. Could he see through the window? Somehow hear through the walls?
Tsukauchi ran a hand through his hair in frustration, his pen tapping against the desk in an absent rhythm, synchronized with the unnerving sound of something dripping in the silence.
He glanced over at Kakashi, whose water bottle sat untouched on the table, its seal still intact. Tsukauchi’s own bottle was already empty. He shifted in his seat, absently adjusting his tie as his gaze drifted downward. Perhaps a discarded bottle from a previous interrogation had rolled under the table. But as his eyes moved lower, his stomach dropped.
"You're bleeding," Tsukauchi said with horror.
Blood was dripping steadily from Kakashi, each drop falling with a soft, sickening plink as it hit the floor. The crimson liquid had already pooled around the legs of the chair, darkening the floor in an ominous spread.
Tsukauchi jumped to his feet, not noticing his chair clattering loudly to the floor in the sudden movement. "Kakashi-kun, you were injured?"
For the first time since the detective entered the room, Kakashi looked surprised. He was still leaning back against his chair with his arms crossed, holding himself stiffly - and now that Tsukauchi was looking, he saw underneath the calm, pain. "I thought you knew.”
“Why would I—there wasn’t anything in the file,” Tsukauchi replied, his voice quick with frustration. He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. He should’ve known. Kakashi’s injuries weren’t just some minor scrape or bruise. They were serious, and Tsukauchi had missed them.
Now that he was closer, he could see the clamminess of Kakashi’s skin, the way his pale complexion had taken on a sickly hue. Tsukauchi swore under his breath. “You’re burning up,” he muttered, reaching out instinctively, his hand hovering just above Kakashi’s arm. “You need to go to the hospital, now.”
“No.” Kakashi’s voice was sharp as he knocked Tsukauchi’s hand away. “Lion and Ox’s injuries are extensive. They need to be the priority. I can continue with the interrogation.”
Tsukauchi stared at him for a moment, not understanding.
“We’re not— you’re not —” Tsukauchi’s words caught in his throat. He ran a hand through his hair in exasperation, struggling to rein in his growing frustration. “Kakashi-kun, this isn’t an interrogation. The medical treatment isn’t conditional on your answers. You need care. ”
Kakashi’s expression hardened in response, the faintest flicker of defiance behind his eye. Kakashi shifted his gaze, deliberately glancing toward the one-way mirror across the room—the mirror that allowed Aizawa to observe the questioning. Tsukauchi followed the boy’s gaze, suddenly understanding what Kakashi was implying.
“I can continue with the questions,” Kakashi said flatly, his tone leaving little room for argument
——
Something ugly that had been slowly unfurling in Aizawa’s chest throughout the proceedings finally reared its head. It was a gnawing discomfort, a creeping sense of wrongness that only grew as the minutes ticked by. He didn’t like what he was seeing—Kakashi’ extreme compliance, the almost unnatural calm in his demeanor as though he’d been conditioned to deal with similar situations like this, his surprise and suspicion when he was offered water. That Kakashi hid his own injuries under a misguided belief that medical aid was being rationed.
Kakashi clearly had expected to be interrogated, if not outright tortured.
And Aizawa knew the HPSC would happily exploit that misunderstanding for more intelligence but Aizawa was not going to watch an injured child barter information for their life.
"No," he said, pressing down on the speakerphone so the detective could hear him. He had no doubt the detective would agree with him but it sounded like Kakashi believed Aizawa was calling the shots and the hero would use that. “We're done for today. Kakashi-kun needs immediate medical attention,” For Kakashi’s benefit, he adds, “Tsukauchi-san, I will consider any further attempts to continue as torture and a serious violation of human rights. This interview is over; please take Kakashi-kun to the hospital immediately."
——
It turned out that Kakashi had three broken ribs, a grade 2 concussion, a stab wound in his gut, and so many cuts and bruises. It was hard to tell where one injury ended and another began
He might be sick, Tsukauchi thought to himself as he watched Kakashi settle down on the exam table. The detective had only seen children with injuries like this in domesitic violence cases.
“Who did this?” Tsukauchi asked flatly.
Kakashi had shedded out of the tactical vest but he still wore his mask and headband, which somehow made him look even younger. It was a stark contrast to the hard-eyed, composed person he had been just minutes ago. The boy shrugged nonchalant. “People who want me dead.”
Kakashi rested his chin on a propped up palm, seemingly not noticing the pressure it placed on his new stitches.
"My father was a prominent figure in the last war,” Kakashi continued, his voice as detached as ever, but Tsukauchi could hear the faint undercurrent of something deeper, darker, behind the words. “He’s dead now. But there are still people who would like a shot at revenge.”
The words hit Tsukauchi harder than he expected. He couldn’t understand Kakashi’s casual acceptance of the idea of a child being punished for the actions of his father.
“I have nations willing to pay handsomely for my head. Some want the rest of me attached to it and breathing. Others...” Kakashi shrugged again. “Just the head is enough.”
The boy wasn’t just talking about threats. He was talking about bounty hunting. About assassination. And Tsukauchi’s quirk told him it was the truth.
When Tsukauchi’s phone rang, the detective was almost glad for an excuse to step out. He needed space and time to think.
There was no reason not to believe Kakashi - no reason for the boy to lie about this.
The problem in all of this was, Tsukauchi realized, the boy’s unnerving stillness wasn't the nervous silence of the hunted. It was the quiet patience of a hunter, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.