A Un-quirked Detective

The bus ride back to his city was rather uneventful for Noya, not like that displeased him in the least.

And with at least some counterbalance luck he found a good seat so he could continue to take a load off on his leg.

As he was sitting thinking about the day's events, Noya realized that he would be forced to take the bus to different cities and back for the next few days.

It was annoying, riding his bike was something that Noya liked to do, but he also didn't want to run out of gas. His hands were pretty much tied.

A new pistol was a must. The hospital taking his old one was annoying, but not too hard to fix. Noya could get a new gun the same way he got his other one.

Waiting for a criminal to pass out or die near him while Noya was doing something else in the city. While it was unreliable and stealing from a corpse was morally and legally dubious, he didn't have too much of a choice. It's not easy for a fifteen-year-old to get their hands on a gun.

While thinking about things passing hands, Noya began to wonder how many hands his phone would pass through.

While Niwa was good at catching off guard people with her quirk, she would probably get caught off guard herself. Most likely after flaunting the fact that she stole a phone.

The phone was hard to get too, he got it off of his boxing teacher, Bunko, after landing a good clean hit on the guy.

Consitering Bunko has a quirk which plainly increases his reaction speed, and he is a good boxer, Noya felt pretty proud of himself for landing that hit.

Of course, after he landed the hit Noya left himself open for a counterattack and go pummeled by Bunko. But still, little steps.

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Luck shined upon Noya once more that day. He knew this because after he got off the bus, he went the same way he previously did after he got shot, and found his gun.

Noya figured that it must have slipped out of his pocket or something. But there is the distinct possibility that this is not his pistol but is another pistol that belongs to someone else.

'Finders keepers losers weepers,' is what Noya thought to himself while picking up the pistol and walking back to his apartment.

The walk back to the apartment was uneventful, is what mostly happened but Noya's luck had to run out at some point.

"Sir, can you help me with something," a man said behind Noya.

Turning around swiftly to meet the voice Noya was happy that the voice didn't have a weapon in their hand, but that didn't mean that they wouldn't have one eventually.

"What do you need from me?" Noya asked putting on a smile in front of the man.

"Yes, I saw you walking the same path I did just latter today and I would be hopping you saw my trusty pistol?" the man asked, "It's very important to me you see," the man further explained.

Noya knew exactly which gun he was talking about, after all it was the gun that Noya had put his hand around when he had turned to face the man.

"I believe I have!" Noya said taking his hand out of his coat pocket, holding the gun in his hand

Handing over the gun to the man could get him shot. Which considering that Noya was still recovering wouldn't be fun. What if the man was a robber, what if the man was lying and this wasn't his gun. What if the man intended to murder Noya.

But with all the what if's, Noya couldn't help but think of some other possibilities. What if not giving the gun gets the man killed because he didn't have a weapon? What if the gun was important to the man?

With all the what ifs, Noya knew which one to pick. Not the most likely one, but the option that would be the best if it worked out.

So, Noya threw the gun to the man, while keeping something in his hand.

Catching the gun, the man was rather surprised.

As soon as the man realized what happened, he quickly loaded the gun and pointed it at Noya.

With a sigh Noya showed the man what he kept in his hand when he threw the gun over.

It was the magazine for the gun.

An embarrassed look flushed onto the man's face as he put the gun in his pocket and ran away.

Noya wasn't stopping him, he was actually relieved. Makes everything simple, Noya didn't need to fight, and he also got a free pistol magazine filled with bullets.

And if Noya found a pistol that didn't match the magazine he could sell it somewhere in the city. There's even a chance that Noya could sell it back to the man who just tried to shoot him.

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With a creak the old door of Noya's apartment opened and Noya walked in a began to go to his room.

Going into his room he went to his bookshelf and grabbed a book. It was a detective book. He then went over to his bed a flopped down.

Detective books were actually where Noya had learned to read, and of course where Noya learned what a detective was and how to do it.

He read and read these books; they were his favorite.

And when Noya got thrown out, his parents threw the books out along with him.

Now, the books that Noya was reading were not the same books that Noya was thrown out with. Those books were sold so Noya could rent out an apartment.

With all that had happened with the books, Noya still loved them. He would find and read the same books he did when he was a kid.

Finding a single person in this city was hard. Identification was scarce, and most people only left their homes to leave the city.

People who didn't go out to leave the city, left the house to try and rob people in the city.

Truely, this city sucks. But, as Noya had said once before it was home.

And there were not many other places where Noya could live, being legally dead and all.

While reading, Noya remembered that he needed to go to the school at the end of the year to pick up the necessary papers to say that he graduated.

Successfully forging the papers to get the school to accept him as a student was too hard for Noya to not grab those papers.

Also, Noya eventually wanted to get a good education. Due to missing almost the entirety of school, his math, science, history, writing, spelling, reading, and about everything else that you would learn at school were severely lacking.