Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Two months.

That is all the time it takes for the world to fall apart

In two months' time, Red will open his eyes to fire and destruction.

A burning, red-hot comet will scorch the sky.

Blood-curdling screams will ring out in the air.

Death will ride on its accursed, pallid horse.

Buildings will collapse, lives will perish—

Hope will disappear from such a miserable world.

Red will open his eyes, and cough on dust and blood.

He will look up at the pale silver of the sky he can see from a cracked ceiling.

He’ll wonder how everything fell apart.

Then, he’ll force himself to get back up anyway.

But today is not that day.

Instead, he blinks open his eyes, yawning, as he snuggles deeper into his couch.

“Hey!” A bright and lively voice greets him. “Must have had a wild night to be sleeping this late!”

The voice is much deeper than Toga’s.

Toga's the only other person in the apartment.

Red’s eyes fly open. “What the—“

“Whoa there!” Firm, gloved hands hold his arm, steadying him from falling. “No need for drama. I’m a friend.”

Red wipes away the last traces of sleep, his vision clearing to reveal the owner of that the voice.

Hawks, the number three hero in Japan, smiles at him. “See, that’s a less aggressive face!”

This time, nothing can stop Red from springing up. “Y-you’re Hawks!”

“In the flesh!” Hawks rises to his full height, his hand stuffed into his jacket.

He hops down from his seat, and it’s like Red is in some bizarro world. Why would he come here?!

Also, “How did you get in here? I locked the front door.”

“I’ll love to explain that—“ A loud, smashing drumbeat plays out. “Hold that thought.”

He reaches into the pocket of his jacket, pulling out a sleek, new phone. “It’s for you!”

Red looks down at the phone offered to him, then back up at the hero offering it to him.

It’s too early for this.

With nothing to lose, Red picks up the phone and holds it to his ear. “. . . Hello?”

“Red! It’s a pleasure to hear from you! It’s a wonderful day, isn’t it?”

Red grips the phone tighter, as understanding washes over him.

“Ms. Miyake.”

Her voice is sweet and silky, even through the phone. “You don’t sound too happy, so I'll cut to the chase: do you know why half of lower Kikugawa was on fire yesterday?”

That must have been the city where the Team Rocket Headquarters was.

The headquarters that Giovanni had exploded.

“Were there any casualties?”

Hawks’s sharp gaze lands on him but all Red cares about is the answer that comes out from the phone.

A loud sigh.

Then, “Luckily, no. Some pro-heroes evacuated all the civilians. There’s major damage to the residential area, but no deaths.”

Red could choke on the relief that swells up in his chest. “That’s . . . I’m glad everyone is safe.”

“As long as someone that dangerous is out on the streets, no one is safe." Ms. Miyake’s voice holds no comfort. "Can you tell me what you know about who did this?”

It’s a simple question with a million answers, none ever describing what he is.

“The guy . . .” Red huffs out a puff of air. “His name is Giovanni. He’s the leader of a dangerous organization in my world called Team Rocket.”

“Team Rocket, huh? There's some whispers of them here and there but I would have never known they can make a splash as big as this.”

Red turns around to see Hawks lounging on the couch, an inquisitive look on his face. “We need to break them up before the group can get any bigger."

The sound of a typewriter clicking echoes from the phone. “Let’s shoot two birds with one stone. Red, you might be wondering what Hawks is doing there.”

Yeah. It’s not everyday you have one of the top heroes in your living room.

Hawks slings an arm around him. “The Hero Commission assigned me as your partner! When I’m not out there saving my world, I’ll be here helping you get back to your world!”

“I’m not too sure about this.” Red says as he weaves under Hawks’ grip.

There’s a smile in Ms. Miyake’s voice. “Oh? I’m sure I can address any problems you might have!”

It’s the sound of leaves rustling in the forest.

It’s the swish of a wave as you relax on the beach.

It’s the peaceful exhale you let out as you unwind on a hammock, letting all the world’s troubles pass you by.

That is what Red feels when he hears Ms. Miyake’s voice.

Peaceful.

Calm.

Trustworthy.

The words of last night hang in the air, and Red’s falling fast.

He holds the phone closer. “My problem is that I don’t think you’re everything you say you are.”

“Oh?” Ms. Miyake sounds interested. “And what led you to that conclusion?”

Yesterday night rushes back to him.

He'll never forget Mob’s face as he recounted his experience with the Hero Commission.

Red grips the phone tighter. “Don’t play dumb! Your stupid agents were pushing my friends around!”

She sighs.

But it’s not the same as before; the sweet syrupy curl of her voice has disappeared.

“So you met up with the kids at U.A, then?” She huffs. “That passion of yours is a double-edged sword . . .”

“What does the Hero Commission want with us?” Red pushes. “Are you really trying to get us back home?”

Ms. Miyake sighs again, this time, her voice becoming heavier. “Didn’t I tell you before? Society relies on pro-heroes to save them. Those kids are the cream of the crop when it comes to powerful quirks. With enough guidance, they can become the strongest pro-heroes the world has ever seen. All-Might would look like a joke compared to them.”

“They’re not trying to be heroes!” Red shouts into the phone. “We’re trying to go home!”

“I'm well aware,” She says. “But won't you consider a back-up plan?”

What?

What is she talking about?

Something rustles over the phone. “The Hero Commission has a priority to upkeep Japan. Yet, even we can't guarantee a passage back home. It's not like anyone has ever traveled through different worlds before.”

“So what? You were stringing us along?!”

“Don't be like that,” Ms. Miyake keeps her voice calm. “Due to Giovanni's recent actions, we have an invested interest in traversing dimensions.”

Red can read between the lines. “So you’re only helping me so you can arrest Giovanni? If he wasn’t here, you would have left us going in circles!”

Ms. Miyake's voice drops a tad lower. "I’m doing as much as I'm allowed. I wouldn’t want to make an enemy out of you.”

Red glances out of his eyes to see Hawks smiling at him.

He hunches closer to himself, lowering his voice. “All you've done is prove that I can’t trust you.”

“Maybe. I’ll admit to that.” Ms. Miyake’s voice is light, as if she couldn’t have a single concern in the world. “But you’re very reliable, aren’t you, Red? I appreciate such a trait. It's why I’m sure you’ll continue this partnership.”

After what he heard? “You’re out of your mind!”

Ms. Miyake doesn’t pause. “And you’re out of resources. Pride would be the only thing that’ll hold you back. Luckily, you have your precious friends, and you would do everything to help them. Even working with people you don’t trust.”

Red stares down at the phone, more and more in disbelief.

“Oh, I got you pinned, don’t I?” She lets out a light, airy laugh. “Don’t take it personally, I do that to everyone. I’m sending you our list of potential Team Rocket bases. Hawks will help when needed.”

Red turns around, scowling as Hawks gives him a thumbs-up.

Ms. Miyake’s voice never loses her confidence. “Cheer up, Red! We’ll get you home.”

A pause.

Then, her voice lowers to a whisper that Red strains to hear. “Or at the very least, something close to it.”

The phone hangs up.

Red flings it against the wall.

Damn it.

“Woah!” A red feather zooms across the room, blocking the phone’s path to an early demise. “It took a while to get this phone chipped, you know?’”

On any other day, Red would have been stoked to see Hawks use his quirk.

Now, though, Red swats away the feather fluttering close to his cheek. “Back off! What’s your business with the Hero Commission anyway?”

The smile on Hawks’ face remains, even as Red shoo him away. “All pro-heroes have business with the Hero Commission. They’re the ones that handle all the logistics of our system that nobody else cares about.”

Red watches as Hawks’ feather floats back to him. “I get that, but they could have sent any hero down here. Why you?”

“They decided I was the best fit for your little journey back to your planet.”

He's really amping up the annoyance. “I’m not an alien.”

“Sure you aren’t.” Hawks smiles, nudging his head towards his phone, “You got the list of locations yet?”

Red looks down at his phone, watching as a text from a blocked number pops up.

“A lot of these sites are underground . . .” Red hums.

“We're looking for hotspots for criminal activity." Hawks explains as he reclines on the couch. "This Giovanni guy is a mega boss, right? He wouldn’t settle for some cheap apartments. So, let's find spacious locations with a bunch of potential, recruitable villains nearby.”

He can work with this.

He stands up from the couch, his mind whirring. “We should split up the work. You can check out all the bases on the above ground while Toga and I look underground.”

“And what’s the rationale for that?” Hawks asks as he leans out from his seat.

“You’re like a flying-type, right?” Red tilts his head. “You won’t have enough space to move around or attack if you’re underground. Giovanni also has a habit of blowing up bases to tie up loose ends. If you get hit by any debris, you’ll end up grounded.”

“Huh. You’re a regular strategist.” Hawks pulls himself upwards.

Red frowns. “This isn’t new to me. I have people depending on me, so I can’t afford to go into this haphazardly.”

Speaking of . . .

Red turns around, uncertainty clouding his thoughts. “Are there going to be any other heroes with you? You might have to deal with experienced Pokémon trainers.”

“Those are the magical animals with quirks, right?” Hawks wave him off. “’ll be alright on my own.”

The frown on Red’s face deepens.

Dabi said something along those lines when he faced off against Giovanni yesterday.

Even the temporary paralysis didn’t change his mind. He’s stubborn enough to still think he can fight Giovanni alone—

Wait!

Red snaps his fingers. “That’s it! You and Dabi can work together!”

Hawks raises a brow at him. “Dabi? The small-time arsonist?”

“You heard of him! He’s a reformed vigilante now!”

Red would feel a little bad about lying if the Hero Commission hadn’t planned on screwing them over.

Nothing wrong with giving them a taste of their own medicine. “Here, Dabi’s trying to take down Giovanni. I’ll give you his address and you guys can work together to search for the Team Rocket bases above ground.

“I don’t know,” Hawks rubs the back of his neck. “I can be a little shy.”

Red has seen glimpses of the photo shoots Hawks have taken. There’s nothing shy about them.

“You’ll be fine. Trust me when I say you’ll need backup when you face Team Rocket.”

The phone in Hawks’ hand pings, and he looks down at the screen before he frowns. “Duty is calling again. I’ll check out that Dabi, but only because you said please!”

Without a single warning, Hawks flings the window open and hops through the frame.

By the time Red pokes his head out the window, Hawks is already a blur flying off on the horizon.

At least he and Dabi are both dramatic.

But Red doesn’t even get a second to sigh before the bedroom door gets kicked open.

Toga marches in, her eyes bright and open as she holds Pika with one arm. “What’s going on? Did my package come?!”

So that’s where Pika went. It’s a bit annoying how much it gets along with Toga, especially since Pika nearly killed him the first time they met.

“No, that was Hawks. Ms. Miyake gave us a list of Team Rocket locations to check out.” Red puts out his hands to steal Pika back.

But Toga drops Pika onto the floor, staring at Red in shock. “Hawks?! The pro-hero Hawks?!”

“Yeah,” Red tries not to glare. Pika is currently rolling across the floor, so at least falling didn't hurt it. “He seemed cool, a bit annoying though.”

Toga cuts him off with a whine, flailing her arms as she hops onto the couch. “Stupid Reddie! Hawks could have killed us, and you opened the door for him!”

Red’s nose crinkles. “I didn’t let him in! I . . . Okay, I don’t know how he got in here, but the Hero Commission assigned him to us! Ms. Miyake pretty much made us ‘partners’.”

Toga hmphs, crossing her arms. “I don’t trust Mimi-chan.”

Red slumps down into the couch, his head hitting the cushion as he sighs. “ . . . I don’t either. She said the Hero Commission is only helping us out because it works in their favor.”

Every time he thinks he got this world figured out, something pulls the rug under his feet.

His headaches. Their bodies being changed. Giovanni.

He still doesn't know what to do with the gift Giovanni gave him, or what it even meant.

Now, he has to deal with a duplicitous Hero Commission.

Red turns to meet Toga’s golden eyes. “I’m not gonna give up on getting home. But I … I don’t know. I thought I could trust Ms. Miyake. Now, I’m not sure who I can trust anymore.”

“I told you Mimi-chan’s a liar.” But the insolent tone to her voice drops as she pouts. “You should have trusted me . . .”

Red stares at her, watching as her face grows dark. She’s serious about this.

But then, again, she has changed from the girl he first met in the alley.

“You’re right. I should have listened to you. You’ve been changing yourself for my sake, helping me out, and I haven’t given you enough credit for that.”

Toga’s mouth twists a little. She fumbles with her fingers and looks down at her lap. “ . . . Most times, I don’t like it when people tell me what to do. They say ‘do this’ or ‘be like that.’ I hated it. Even Mimi-chan wants me to be someone else.”

“. . . But you’re different . . . and I don't know why,” She glances up at him, her eyes warmer than he has ever seen them. “I thought I would get sick of you telling me what to do . . .”

She inches closer, and Red doesn’t move, letting her place a cold palm against his chest.

“I’m not sick of you, though . . . I love you, Reddie. Everyone likes you, even though you’re weird and stupid.”

Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum.

His heart rattles under her hand.

Even Toga notices, with how she taps her fingers against him in the same beat. “I wanna drink you all up. I want you all to myself. I’ll love you and I’ll be you. Is that why it’s easier listening to you . . . ?”

It’s moments like this that has him floundering, like a fish beached on an ocean of sand.

He isn’t dense; he's aware of the innuendo that decorates her words.

But underneath that, he can’t parse through the layers of glittery eyes and coy demeanor. Why does she say the things she says? Why does she do the things she do?

What does Toga really want? To kill him? To love him?

He can’t tell.

He grabs her hand. “You don’t have to do all that. I just want you to care about others.”

She tilts her head. “Others?”

“You have good in you, Toga, but you have to care about other people.” He tightens his grip. “Not only me or the people you like but everyone else too.”

She backs off from him, her face curling in disgust. “I don’t wanna do that.”

But Red flicks her forehead with his finger, smiling at the scowl that pops up on her face. “You gotta, or you’ll be a vampire forever.”

“I told you I’m not a vampire.” She pouts, rubbing her forehead with a frown.

“Too bad! Maybe I’ll give you a better nickname when you stop making all those comments about drinking my blood.”

Toga eyes him as he rises from the couch, her gaze wandering as she huffs. “ . . . You don’t get it . . .”

“You don’t get what I’m saying either.” Red says as he walks over to the kitchen, opening the cupboard. “But we’ll understand each other one day.”

He scoops out a cup of seed, bending down to feed Pika.

He stands.

Fire.

That’s all Red sees as he looks out the window.

The city burns as fire scorches the world.

The heat climbs up his skin, torching the hair off his arm.

It’s close enough for the stench of smoke to clog up his throat, choking him until there’s nothing left to breathe—

“Reddie!”

Red blinks.

The blue sky and white clouds brightens the window's view.

Was he dreaming?

Toga bounces up to him, concern flashing in her eyes as she holds Pika in her arms. “Reddie? What are you looking at?”

Red blinks one more time, but the sky is still clear as ever.

“Nothing,” He says as he blinks away the visions of flames. “It must have been in my head.”

Ritsu didn’t think it would be possible, but he actually misses this dump of a school.

Of course, he realizes the irony of describing the number one hero school in (this) Japan a dump.

But Ritsu is so sick of this world that he’s naturally referring to anything in this universe as a dump.

Anyways, staying in Reigen’s apartment overnight was a horrible mistake.

He won’t even get into the struggles of ten people sharing one bathroom.

So, when Ritsu reaches the sidewalk leading to the giant buildings of U.A, he might have overreacted a little.

“Ritsu,” Shigeo looks at him with a tiny wrinkle between his brows. “Why are you lying down on the ground?”

Ritsu continues his face-plant on the pavement. “You don’t get it, Shigeo.”

“I get it!” A second later, he hears Yashiro flop right beside him. “I’m so tired!”

“Come on, you can rest when we get inside!” Katara says, nudging them with her foot. “There’s no point of dirtying yourselves on the floor.”

Ritsu doesn’t have the mental capacity to explain that the only way he can rest is by sleeping in his bedroom.

Back in his own world.

Instead, he sighs and gets up, walking over to the school gates as Yashiro wails about her exhaustion.

But, the moment he reaches the school gates, he blinks.

Half of the school gate is currently a pile of dust.

Also, Bakugou Katsuki is standing in front of him, glaring as if he’s trying to explode him with his eyes alone.

“Extra!” Bakugou barks. “Where the fuck is your brother?!”

Of course that’s the only thing Bakugou remembers about him.

“Good afternoon, Bakugou.” Ritsu stuffs his hands into his pockets. “Did you finally get kicked out of school?”

Bakugou opens his mouth, ready to spout out a threat, when his eyes widen.

He shoves Ritsu aside (ouch), growling to face the person in front of him.

“Bakugou!”

Oh, Katara finally noticed him.

She storms up to him with a red hot scowl, unaffected by his snarl.

“Loopy-hair.” Bakugou growls like his life depends on it.

Katara matches his energy with anger flaring on her face. “Bakugou.”

This is ridiculous.

“Am I the only one that notices the crumbling school gates?” Ritsu cuts through the stare-down.

Bakugou doesn’t blink. “Stupid-ass media came here this mornin’ for All-Might. Fuckers got excited and destroyed the gates.”

Ritsu’s brow furrows.

Isn’t this the number-one school in Japan? Shouldn’t they have stronger defense mechanisms in place?

“I thought the school had top-notch security?”

The hair on Ritsu's neck raises as Hanako strolls by.

His eyes flit over Ritsu.

But Ritsu?

He darts his eyes away.

Hanako is a paranoid, impish, and downright unreliable spirit.

But . . . Ritsu likes the dark jokes and the ideology of realism they share. Hanako can also be pretty mature when he wants to be.

Not to mention he appreciated Hanako's comfort when he talked about Shigeo.

So, yeah.

Ritsu likes him.

But Ritsu’s life tends to go to shit at the worst possible moment.

At least, that’s how he felt this morning when Shigeo tells him that Hanako killed his own brother.

It was such a blind-sided hit that Ritsu ended up breaking the mirror. He doesn't understand why his reaction would surprise Shigeo.

How the hell did he expect him to process that?

Is he supposed to be okay with knowing that Hanako killed his brother?!

He . . . he can’t do that.

He can’t.

But like it or not, they’ll need Hanako’s help if they want to go home. Ritsu will keep his mouth shut and work with him to return home.

But that doesn’t mean he can look him in the eye.

Not anymore.

Still, Hanako must be paying attention to his reticence, because he glances at him.

A glimmer of sadness reflects in his eyes. “When bad things like this happen, it doesn’t take long for the trust we have in each other to crumble too.”

Is there a double meaning in those words? Is it some kind of clue to understand Hanako?

He’ll never know.

Mostly because Katara decides to barge into the conversation.

“Yeah! How can we trust a school that thinks a jerk can be a hero?” She hisses as she glares bullets into Bakugou’s skull.

Bakugou is just as intense. “Fuck you! I’m more heroic than every fucking extra in this school combined!”

“We shouldn’t fight.” Yashiro pleads, as she flutters in place. “Aren’t heroes all about peace?”

She turns to the class, her eyes wide and pleading. “Can’t anyone else say something?” Hanako? Aang? Mob—“

The effect is instantaneous.

Bakugou roars, stomping over to his brother with sparks lighting all over his palms. “Blank-Eyes! Rumors have been spreading that you and Monkey-Ass staged that battle with All-Might!”

His eyes are like little red pin pricks as he bends over him. “You weren’t fucking with me, were you?”

Nii-san reels back, confused. A drop of sweat rolls down Gohan’s face as he huddles close to him. “Uhhhh . . .”

“If you have beef with my brother," Ritsu says as he steps in front of Shigeo. "You can take it up with me behind the back of the school yard like any other delinquent.”

Minamoto’s jaw drops. “Ritsu, you can fight?!”

Ritsu ignores the frothing coming out of Bakugou’s mouth, “I’m in student council. Of course I know how to fight.”

“You can’t, Ritsu! You’ll get in trouble!” Yashiro shrieks.

“What is the school going to do? Expel me?” Ritsu rolls his eyes. “They’re literally required to keep me in this school.”

But as Bakugou slams his jaw shut, his red eyes growing brighter and brighter, Ritsu connects the dots.

“It’s not the same for you, is it? You’re all bark and no bite.” He shrugs his shoulders.

A heavy hand lands on his shoulder, gentle and soft. “Ritsu, you said you wouldn’t fight students anymore, remember?” Shigeo reminds him.

But Aang springs between them, flailing his arms around. “We’re all classmates! We should be getting along!”

Bakugou gives him a stink eye, scoffing. “I’m ain’t listening to a bald-headed, dirt-eating, bug-eyed little freak!”

Okay, Bakugou is a little funny.

Luckily, Bakugou stomps back into the school before Ritsu can laugh at any more of his insults.

“Don’t listen to Bakugou, your eyes are only a little bug-shaped.” Katara reassures him.

“Actually, they’re super bug-shaped!” Gohan detaches himself from Shigeo’s side. “You kinda remind me of a Frog-Tailed Cockroach!”

Hanako snorts, and the urge to laugh bubbles in Ritsu’s throat.

But then, he meets Hanako’s eyes and all the laughter drains out of him.

He turns his back, walking away from them all.

As he slows his pace, he notices the stray papers and scuff marks on the tiled floors of the hallways.

Bakugou said that the news reporters had broken into U.A, right?

Judging by the chaos around him, the students must have panicked.

It doesn’t help that there are rumors spreading about the events in the hero combat trials.

Ritsu is getting a headache already.

When he walks into the class, he sees Yamada-sensei shifting through papers at his desk.

“Good afternoon, Yamada-sensei.” Ritsu greets as he takes his seat. “Are you going to give everyone detention for what we did yesterday?”

Yamada-sensei looks up at him with tired eyes. “Good afternoon, Ritsu. Let’s wait for everyone else to come in before I say anything.”

The rest of his classmates come in waves, with Yashiro and Minamoto strolling in.

Next is Gohan, and Hanako. Shigeo follows, shoulders hunched from the Bakugou interaction.

Finally, Aang and Katara arrive, with Katara rubbing Aang’s back. “Come on, today’ll be a good day!”

Of course, that’s when they all see Yamada-sensei.

“We’re in huge trouble, aren’t we?” Minamoto asks amid the silence.

“Alright, listeners, settle down, and I'll explain what’s going on!” Yamada-sensei prompts as everyone scrambles to their seats.

As they wait in their seats, Yamada-sensei walks to the front of the classroom, his face pensive.

It’s the quietest they have ever seen him.

“You guys got into a bit of a bind yesterday, didn’t you?” Yamada-sensei sighs, before a small smile pastes itself on his face. “I understand. These are extenuating situations and getting home is important. But that doesn’t excuse all the laws you guys broke, explicitly with public quirk use.”

Ritsu is getting tired of hearing that stupid anti-quirk law.

He never had to worry about using his psychic powers back at his world.

“Why should we care about those laws?!” Minamoto slams his hands on the desk. “It doesn't matter if we break it!”

“Minamoto is right.” Ritsu raises his voice. “It would make sense if we broke a serious law that hurt others or ourselves, but this isn’t the case here. The pros of using our powers to go home outweighs the cons of breaking a law about using our powers.”

Aang raises his hand, his voice full of levity. “Besides, once we go home, it won’t matter if we broke that law. You said our situation is ‘extenuating’, so can’t you excuse us?”

Yamada-sensei hums, his hand covering his mouth as he thinks.

Ritsu isn’t sure why he's thinking so hard. They made a pretty compelling argument.

“Explaining the establishment of quirk laws isn’t something I can just dish out on a Monday afternoon.” Yamada-sensei finally replies. “Principal Nedzu will be calling each of you throughout the day into his office. As our beloved principal is smarter than all of us combined, I’m sure he can explain it better.”

Yashiro waves her hand around. “So, we’re not gonna get detention?”

But Yamada-sensei surprises them as he laughs.

“Principal Nedzu doesn’t believe in detention! Besides, the teachers here are busy pro-heroes. There wouldn’t be anyone to watch over you.”

Hanako sits up. “So, you’re letting us go just like that? Even though we broke a law you guys consider serious?”

“U.A is taking the heat for you guys’ actions. It seems you all were aware of the repercussions of your actions. No need to dish out extra punishment!"

A tide of relief sweeps over the class.

“That being said, Aizawa gave me a great idea for today’s lesson!” Yamada-sensei’s face stretches from the force of his smile. “We’ll be having a pop quiz for our ‘Quirk Laws: Say No to Vigilantism’ class!”

Ritsu’s heart drops to the floor. “Right now?!”

“Well, it’ll be at 1:50 pm!”

“That’s only an hour to study!” Minamoto screeches. “Can you tell us what’s gonna be on the quiz?!”

The smile on Yamada-sensei turns into a smirk. “We’re going over all the quirk laws you broke yesterday!”

Ritsu fucking hates this school.

But Hanako isn’t phased. “It’s just a pop quiz. Besides, we won’t get any punishment if we fail, right?”

Ritsu turns around to see Yamada-sensei passing papers around. “That’s right, Hanako! But if you pass the quiz, then that means you guys can follow 1-A and 1-B on the field trip they’re going on this week.”

“They’re going on a field trip? To where?” Yashiro bounces in her seat.

“That is a secret, but lots of students in the past say it’s an experience like no other!” Yamada-sensei winks.

“So, if we pass, we get to go on a field trip. But if we fail, we have to stay here with you? That isn’t too bad.” Minamoto relaxes his shoulders, the panic on his face fading.

But Yamada-sensei must have another surprise up his sleeve; his smile grows bigger.

“Actually, you’ll be with Aizawa! Nothing is more refreshing than that rational attitude, right?”

A shudder passes through the room.

After hearing about Aizawa-sensei's quirk, Ritsu isn't eager to be near him.

Yamada-sensei slaps a thick bundle of paper against his desk. “Here’s the study guide for the quiz! If you work hard and remember everything here, the pop quiz will be a piece of cake!”

Ritsu inspects the sheets on his desk, surprised by the bigger than normal font. This should only take about thirty minutes to study.

“I have to go to 1-B for English, but I hope everyone tries their best. Ritsu, you’re the first one Nedzu is calling!” Yamada-sensei slams the door shut as he leaves, prompting the class to break out in noise.

“There’s no way we can learn everything here!” The brows on Minamoto rise higher and higher as he tears through all the pages of the study guide. “We’re so fucked!”

“This is a pretty light consequence for breaking so many of their rules though. I’m sure we can learn all these . . . trials?” Katara squints at the study guide.

Yashiro slumps over her desk. “There’s no way! I can’t read this!”

“Guys! This is just like the P.E exercise from the first day of class!” Aang springs up from his seat. “They never said we couldn’t work together, right?”

“Aang, I’m pretty sure Yamada-sensei implied it with the words ‘pop quiz’.” Ritsu crosses his arms. “We’ll be cheating if we do that.”

“Cheating is the only option!” Hanako nods. “Nobody here wants to be stuck with Aizawa-sensei!”

And while it shouldn't surprise him, Ritsu still blinks at the amount of hums and nods that pass around the class.

He turns to his brother, watching as he stares at his study guide. “You’re not thinking about cheating either, right?”

Shigeo doesn’t answer, his eyes still glued to his study guide.

“Nii-san.”

A drop of sweat rolls down his forehead as his lips start to quiver. “. . . I don't know . . .”

“You guys can go ahead, but I’ll stick to studying. We reviewed most of this content in class the day before, so it’s not hard for me.” Gohan scrunches his nose as he takes out a wide collection of pens and pencils.

Aang and Hanako share a look, a Cheshire smile stretching on both of their faces.

“Gohan! We’re friends, right?” Hanako leans on his desk, as Aang stalks behind him. “Friends let friends copy off their paper!”

Ritsu has never seen Gohan look so skeptical. “I don’t know. Mom says that only delinquents and deadbeats cheat.”

“It’s not cheating if you don’t get caught!” Aang replies.

“I’m going to the principal’s office before I lose any more deniability.” Ritsu rises as the rest of the class devolves into panic. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Kou, what is a . . . lawsuit?” Katara asks, her eyes still squinting at the paper.

Instead of answering like a normal person, Minamoto slams his head down on his desk and yells.

Ritsu sighs, closing the door just as Yashiro asks if Shigeo could read Yamada-sensei’s mind.

As he walks through the quiet hallways, Ritsu tries to review his next plans.

One, he’ll have his hopefully short meeting with Principal Nedzu. Two, he’ll pass the pop quiz. Three, he’ll help Shigeo and all his other classmates cram for the pop quiz.

His main concern is Shigeo passing. He doesn’t really care if all the others fail.

Soon enough, he reaches the principal’s office.

Ritsu reaches up to knock on the door.

“Oh, Ritsu! Yes, yes, come in!” Principal Nedzu’s voice echoes out from the wooden door.

How did he know he was about to knock—

Never mind, it’s not worth asking.

Ritsu opens the door.

The sight that he greets him is ordinary.

Bookshelves and various motivational posters line the walls around them. Streamers decorate a wide window. The smell of something earthy fills the room.

It’s like any other regular principal’s office.

Principal Nedzu spins around in his huge office chair, a smile on his face. “Kageyama Ritsu. I hope you’re enjoying your half-day!”

“Good afternoon. It’s . . . a change in pace.” Ritsu’s eyes trail as he takes another look around the room. Nothing stands out.

Of course, that’s not counting the fact that their principal is a literal animal.

Principal Nedzu pats his paws against the desk. “Feel free to take a seat! Would you like a cup of tea? I heard hibiscus is all the rage nowadays.”

“I’m fine, thank you.”

It’s quiet as he sits in the large leather chair, watching as Principal Nedzu stares at him with beady black eyes.

“ . . . It seems I have reason to believe you were the leader behind your class’s little escapade, yesterday.”

But Ritsu shakes his head. “I wouldn’t have gone far if it weren’t for Katara’s help. Besides, the rest of the class contributed.”

“Good!” Is he congratulating them on that? “I applaud the initiative your class has shown! Dimensional travel is particularly precarious. So, it's encouraging that each of you are healthy enough to strike out against your boundaries.”

Wait, what?

Ritsu sits straight up. “What do you mean it’s precarious?”

“Well, this isn’t an everyday event for us, Ritsu.” Principal Nedzu points out. “The boundaries of time and space divide our worlds. We would have to distort those boundaries to cross between our worlds. Such a distortion would subject our bodies with an onslaught of unprecedented energy.”

Dimple had sort of explained that earlier.

“I’m under the assumption that falling into this world caused our bodies to change. That change shaped our physiology to be like someone in this world who has a quirk.” Ritsu taps his fingers against the edge of the desk.

Principal Nedzu takes another sip of his cup of tea, his voice lowering. “That seems like the most likely conclusion. Yet, we can’t ignore the effects that occur from traveling between different worlds. We also can’t discount the idea that returning home might not fix your bodies.”

He places the tea on his desk.

Shadows dance across his face. “Instead, you may find yourselves in a worse position.”

Ritsu takes a deep breath, the room suddenly seeming a lot colder than before.

“So … you’re suggesting that if we use those portals to go home, it might kill us instead.”

Principal Nedzu drops a warm cup in his hands. “Please have a sip, Ritsu. You’re shaking.”

A bit too overwhelmed to object, Ritsu raises the cup to his lips.

His face squeezes up almost immediately.

“What is this? ” It’s like drinking swamp water.

“It’s my personal blend of fermented swiss cheese extract!” Principal Nedzu says with a smile. “I find it always lifts a heavy mood!”

Ritsu gags. “Ew!”

“Anyways,” Principal Nedzu continues, “We’re considering death as the worst outcome. Right now, the effects of dimension traveling seem minimal. So, we’ll assume that permanent, lethal damage will only occur with numerous trips!”

“That’s great.” Ritsu deadpans, placing his cup of . . . whatever that was back on the desk.

Principal Nedzu tilts his head, his ears perking up. “Ritsu, you’re a very bright child. Yet, you jump to the worst conclusions due to your pessimistic nature and mistrust in others. You wield your cynicism as a weapon but it blinds you to other outcomes you could have pursued.”

What the hell? Where is this coming from?

“I’m not mistrusting.” Ritsu argues.

There’s a lot of people he trusts.

For example, Shigeo—

. . .

Okay, maybe he got a point.

“It’s interesting to see the inherent selfishness in your actions. That isn’t to say selfishness is a bad thing to have; we’ll be better off if heroes were more concerned with their health.” Principal Nedzu explains. “But you seem to pit yourself against the world. Almost as if you have a bone to pick with it.”

The sound of his words drags Ritsu to the past.

He’s in his room watching as Shigeo hovers the picture frames on the hallway with only a thought.

He’s in his room, huffing and puffing as he tries to bend the spoon in his hand with his mind.

Here’s the thing: Ritsu didn’t always have powers.

His brother could levitate the world around him, but all Ritsu could do is walk in his shadow.

His mom and dad didn’t understand either.

They’re ordinary people that just so happened to have an extraordinary son. They don’t realize the gravity of being an ESPer.

It was this jealousy, the question of why Shigeo was blessed instead of him, that led him to distance himself.

From his brother, his parents, his classmates—he can’t exactly explain it.

All he knows is that there was the world.

Then, there was him.

Ritsu twirls the liquid in his cup with his spoon.

“How are my personal issues related to those stupid quirk laws . . . ?” He mutters instead.

Principal Nedzu perks up like a flower in spring weather. “Simple! Every action we take comes with its own consequences. In a world where everyone has different quirks, we must make our laws with those differences in mind.”

“If we reason away one person breaking a rule, we set a precedent that anyone can break a rule if it's rationalized. Your situation could be better, Ritsu, but it could also be worse. Can we deem it as the exception that allows us to break the quirk law that has been in place for decades?” Principal Nedzu smiles as he finishes his cup.

Ritsu folds his arms as a frown crawls up on his face. “We’re stuck in another dimension. There isn't anyone in this world that has it worse than us. Besides, I still don’t get how that relates to my ‘trust’ issues.”

Principal Nedzu presses his paws together. “I want you to think about what I’ve said. I would love to connect your mistrust in authority to a disregard to the systems in place but I heard you have a pop quiz today. I rather not take all your time.”

Ritsu looks at the clock hanging above the window.

It’s been five minutes.

A five minute conversation has Ritsu feeling like he’s spinning in a washing machine at full speed.

Unbelievable.

“Oh, and Ritsu, a word of advice before you go,” Principal Nedzu smiles as he pushes him out of his office. “You’ll feel a lot better if you sought out more balance.”

The door closes shut and Ritsu blinks at the empty hallway.

Thoughts about getting home, falling through mysterious portals, and complicated spirits distract Ritsu.

It’s inevitable, with his muddled mind, that he ends up running into someone.

“Uuf!” Ritsu lands on his ass, as the other student balances themself on the rows of lockers lining the wall.

“Sorry. I didn’t see you there.” A pale hand stretches out towards him.

“No worries. I wasn’t paying att…ent…”

He trails off, eyes widening as the student finally lifts his head.

Purple. It fills his vision.

Wild, purple, uncombed hair billows in the air as the guy stares at him with dead, lilac eyes.

He can’t look away, even when the guy rubs the black eye bags contrasting his pale, anemic-looking skin.

A screeching noise echoes in his brain.

This guy . . .

This guy is really cool!

What the hell is he doing?! He has bigger problems to deal with than not looking stupid in front of someone!

“Hey . . . did you hear what I said?”

Oh no. The guy is looking right at him.

He has to say something!

Anything!

Ritsu raises his head, mouth open to say something cool, suave, and impressive.

“.. . …. …. .. .. . .. … … … .. .. .. “

Fuck.

The cool guy narrows his eyes, one hand supporting his weight against the lockers. “ . . . Lemme guess: you heard about my quirk, right? Too scared to say a word?”

Ritsu has no idea what this guy’s quirk is.

He should walk away before he embarrasses himself any more.

But before Ritsu can do exactly that, a thud echoes throughout the empty hallway.

The cool guy blinks slowly, suddenly looking a hundred times more bored.

“. . . Hello? Are you still there . . .?”

The voice is familiar but Ritsu can’t recognize it.

The weirder part is that it’s coming from the locker behind the guy.

Ritsu huffs, a little bit of his nerves fading as someone pounds on the locker.

Who would be stupid enough to get themselves shoved into a locker—

“Shinsoouuuu! It’s Aang and Gohan! Are you still helping us?!”

. . .

Why?

Just . . . why?

Ritsu blinks again, but he still sees that same locker vibrating with yells and pounding.

This is the worst-case scenario. Aang and Gohan trapped in the same locker.

He has two options: helping them out or running before they embarrass him.

Running away is looking more tempting by the minute.

But Ritsu doesn’t get the chance to decide.

The guy (or Shinsou, he thinks) runs his hand through his hair. “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming.”

He bangs his fist against the locker door, popping it open.

A blur of gray and navy appears as Aang and Gohan yelp, falling into a heap.

Yep, two of Ritsu’s classmates (some of the strongest) are currently lying on the floor after being stuck in a locker.

Gohan’s face is smack against the tiles, while Aang sprawls all over him.

What did he do in his past life to deserve this?

Aang bounces to his feet in a single step, a smile on his face as he stretches his shoulders. “Ritsu! Am I glad to see you!”

Shinsou darts his eyes between Aang and him. “You know this guy?”

Aang grins at him as Gohan clumsily stumbles to his feet. “Yeah, Ritsu is my classmate!”

Okay, he can control this situation. All he has to do is introduce himself properly and ask Aang what the hell he was doing in that locker.

But as Ritsu tries to speak, Shinsou turns his head, staring at him with the force of those purple, deadened eyes.

Uuuwaahhhhh . . . he’s so cool!

But Ritsu doesn’t say this aloud.

In fact, he doesn’t say anything.

Which means that for a good fifteen seconds, the hallway is completely bathed in silence.

. . . He’s really having a bad day, huh?

Shinsou glares at him before returning his gaze to Aang. “ . . . Anyways. I helped you out. I’m going back to class.”

He shuffles past them, his face cold and bitter as his silhouette folds into the shadows of the hallway.

Ritsu can’t believe it.

He finally met someone cool in this school and he couldn’t say a single word to him!

“Thank you! I hope we see you around!” Aang yells at Shinsou's retreating back, rubbing salt into the wound.

To make matters worse, he whirls around, narrowing his eyes. “How come you didn’t say a word to Shinsou, Ritsu? He was really cool!”

There’s no way he can answer that.

Instead, Ritsu grabs Gohan’s collar, pulling him to his feet. “Why don’t you guys explain how you manage to get stuck in a locker? Who would bully two 12-year-olds in high school?”

Aang laughs as he rubs the back of his neck. “It’s actually a funny story . . .”

“Gohan, please! Can I at least copy half of your quiz? Or just a quarter?” Aang shakes his hands as he begs.

Burr-ssshhh.

The sound of the toilet flushing echoes in the bathroom.

Gohan swings the stall door open as he walks up to the sink. “Are you going to follow me everywhere I go until I say yes?”

Aang brightens. “Will that work?!”

“. . . Aang . . . “ The glance Gohan gives him is very exasperated.

As they leave the bathroom, Aang skips until he’s right in front of Gohan. “C’mon! There’s no way I can study for that pop quiz!”

“You can do it if you put your mind to it.” Gohan hums as Aang starts to walk backwards.“Besides, it’s not that I don’t want to give you answers, but getting caught . . .”

“Trust me, I‘m the best cheater you’ve ever—Oof!”

Aang collides into something hard.

As he rubs his back, he catches how Gohan’s face pales.

He turns around.

Bakugou glares right at him.

“Hey Bakugou! Are you coming out from . . .”

Aang slants to the right, eyeing the door Bakugou had walked out of. “ . . . Mr. Hound Dog’s office . . . ?”

“Oh!” Gohan’s eyes widen. “Isn’t Hound Dog in charge of therapy and anger management—”

“Shut your fucking mouths!” Bakugou screeches, sparks flying off his hands.

Then, as if possessed by some spirit, Bakugou closes his eyes.

He takes a deep breath and exhales, smothering the mini explosions flying off his hands.

When he opens his eyes, the raging anger in them is no longer present. “Get out of my way before I stuff you into a locker.”

“Wow, Bakugou! That was good emotional control!” Aang exclaims.

After all, this was the guy that had just threatened them this afternoon!

“Eh? Are you fucking deaf or what?! Don’t make me repeat myself!”

Oh, the anger in his eyes is back. But his palms aren’t lighting up.

Aang can't help the pride that leaks out of his smile.

Bakugou’s getting better at handling his temper!

But Gohan cuts through his happy realization, his eyes darting to the metal boxes that line the wall. “I don’t think we’ll fit in those lockers . . .”

Since Aang is still trying to get those quiz answers from him, he makes sure to nod. “Yeah, they’re way too small!”

A sudden smile stretches across Bakugou’s face. “You wanna fucking bet?”

Aang doesn’t have money to be betting, but maybe a light-hearted game will warm Bakugou up to them.

“Sure, why not?”

“Turns out Bakugou can’t say no to a challenge. On the plus side, he didn’t even use his quirk!” Aang finishes his little story, eyes bright despite the fact that he keeps rubbing his arms.

On his other side, Gohan shakes his left arm, his brow furrowed. “Bakugou was going to get us out, but Mr. Hound Dog called him back into his office. I didn’t want to break the locker and get into more trouble, so we waited until someone walked by.”

“Wow.” Ritsu stares at them. “You two are both idiots.”

“It worked out! Shinsou helped us!” Aang protests.

But then, “How come you acted so weird around Shinsou?”

He’s definitely not answering that. “Mind your business.”

Wait, this is Aang he’s talking about. He’s full of love, peace, and meddling.

What Ritsu needs to do is divert his attention.

“I’m guessing the school is forcing Bakugou to go to anger management classes.” It’s a hell of a derailment, but Aang and Gohan are dense enough for him to pull it off. “Probably because he exploded Midoriya back at the combat battle trials.”

Aang and Gohan nod, their eyes glazed.

Good. Let them think about that instead of his tiny blip in judgment.

“Ritsu!” Yashiro grabs his shoulders as he walks in, shaking him up and down. “You’re finally back!”

Despite his gut telling him not to, Ritsu takes a look around the classroom.

Hanako is writing the entirety of the study guide all over his arms.

Minamoto is wearing a bandana around his head as he (loudly) chants the words in his notebook.

Shigeo . . . has not moved an inch since Ritsu left the classroom.

His entire face is wet with sweat and he keeps dropping the pencil he’s holding.

“Where is Katara?” Ritsu asks, raising his voice to drown out Minamoto’s yells.

“We don’t know! Principal Nedzu called her into his office and she never came back!” Yashiro shakes him up and down, revealing the notes hidden underneath her sleeve. “I’m starting to think she might have been abducted!”

“Yes, because someone would kidnap her in the middle of a school day.” Ritsu rolls his eyes as he pushes her hands off.

“Oh, Katara is visiting the other classrooms.” Aang raises his hand. “At least, that’s what Principal Nedzu told me.”

“Wait,” Ritsu holds out his hand, prompting the class to quiet down. “You already went there? Who else has gone to his office?”

Three hands raise in the air.

“I think he’s the scariest animal I’ve ever seen!” Minamoto shivers.

“I think he’s just a human playing dress-up!” Hanako complains.

“ . . . I think I’m going to fail this quiz . . .” Shigeo replies, his face full of dread as he finally looks up from his study guide.

There’s way too many things to focus on. The side-effects from traveling to another dimension. The fact that their principal managed to meet with six different people in the span of ten minutes. Which class Shinsou might be in—

No, no, he’s not thinking about that! No way!

“Ritsu . . .” Yashiro wipes her eyes with her sleeve, smearing ink all over her face. “You’re our only hope.”

“Come on, Ritsu!” Minamoto rushes him forward, dragging him over to his seat as he slams the study guide on his desk. “Let’s get our cramming on!”

It should be easy.

Ritsu stares at the study guide on his desk, grabbing a pencil to take notes.

He underlines the beginning of the first topic.

The emergence of vigilantes and the lawsuits that followed thereafter.

Followed.

Portals.

Hanako.

Blood.

Tea.

Meetings.

Purple.

Ritsu slams his head down on the desk and groans. “I can’t do this.”

A rough hand drops on his shoulder.

Ritsu looks up to see the maniacal grin on Minamoto’s face.

“We only got thirty minutes until that pop quiz.” His fangs gleam in the light. “If we can’t cram it all, we’ll cheat our way to victory!”

Ritsu doesn’t even bother sighing.

Katara is trying to understand how this world works.

“Take some time to consider what I offered! It was a pleasure to hear your perspective!” Nedzu, the principal of the school, ushers her out of his office.

She still can’t wrap her mind around a talking animal.

When she had gone into his office, she had expected Nedzu to scold her for breaking so many of their laws.

Instead, he had offered her tea and instructed her to visit the hero courses.

“Your world is very different from ours. Meeting the other hero students will be an illuminating experience!”

Katara had tried to tell him that she had a quiz to worry about, but the principal had told her it wouldn’t be a problem.

He might be right; its not the worst thing in the world to stay with Aizawa-sensei.

But she doesn’t want to fail that quiz! At the risk of sounding uppity, it would be humiliating!

What to do . . . What should she do . . . ?

Katara’s mumbles slows to a stop as she looks up and sees the sign for 1-A hanging over her.

She might as well take the principal's advice.

She knocks on the door before walking in.

Her eyes widen.

The classroom is almost empty, with the seats all lined up in neat rows and columns.

In fact, she only sees four students in the class.

“Oh, Katara! I wasn’t expecting you.” Momo gives her a small wave.

Before Katara can reply, Iida springs up from his seat, adjusting his glasses. “Katara! As much as this visit is appreciated, it is inappropriate to go to other classes during school time!”

“Actually, the principal sent me over.” Katara explains as she closes the door. “He said something about meeting you guys to get more used to everything around here.”

Iida straightens his back, reminding her of those robots they had to fight. “Of course! Pardon my rudeness! It’ll be an honor to explain what has happened since the start of the semester.”

“We don’t have to go that far.” A girl with a long, green braid says as she looks at her. “We can just explain today’s activity.”

Katara nods, hoping she doesn’t look too confused.

After all, she’s still having problems with remembering everyone.

She’s not too close to Iida and Momo. The girl with the green braid is completely unfamiliar.

Yet, Katara can’t forget Todoroki.

Not with the scar that covers the left side of his eye.

He reminds her of an early Zuko, the former Fire Nation Prince, before he had a change of heart.

Sullen. Antisocial. Bitter.

The only difference is the coldness that lives in Todoroki.

Zuko always burns red hot.

“So, what are you guys doing?”

Katara adds a fake cheer to her voice, hoping the smile on her face doesn’t seem disingenuous. She would prefer to be civil today.

Iida makes chopping motions with his hands as he swings them through the air. “Aizawa-sensei split our class into four different groups! Group 1 is studying the common building materials outside. Group 2 is working on quirk combinations in Gym Alpha. Group 3 is learning how to handle the media during active scenes.”

Katara leans backwards at the right moment, avoiding a stray swipe from Iida’s hands. “So, you guys are Group 4.”

“We’re working on hypothetical scenarios involving our quirks!” Momo claps her hands. “We have to write down various ways our quirk might hurt the people we’re trying to help.”

The girl with the braid blinks, her face seeming as impassive as Mob’s. “We're having trouble thinking of any issues we may face. Aizawa-sensei said we should come to him if we get stuck but . . .”

Her eyes move to the left, and Katara follows, only to see the yellow . . . thing behind the large desk.

“Aizawa-sensei might be asleep, Asui, but we can’t give up on completing our assignments!” Iida chops his hand in the air.

At least Katara got some things out of this exchange.

Aizawa-sensei sleeps in a bright yellow sleeping bag during school hours and the girl’s name is Asui.

“Can I offer up suggestions?” Isn’t that what the principal had told her to do? Bring in a new perspective or something?

“That would be great!” Momo answers.

Katara tries to think of a few ideas.

Wait . . . what exactly was Momo’s quirk again?

“Maybe you can explain your quirk more to me? It would be helpful to hear how you describe it.”

“Of course!” Momo stands up from her desk as she stretches out her arm. “My quirk is ‘Creation’. I can convert the fat in my body to create any inorganic material as long as I know how it’s constructed.”

The skin on her arm blurs and squishes until a pencil drops into her open hand.

Momo hands the pencil to her, and Katara spins it around. “This is amazing! There’s so many things you can build!”

“I wouldn’t say that.” Momo mumbles, “If I don’t know the composition, I can’t create the object.”

It hardly seemed like a problem to her. “Couldn’t you just look it up on your phone? I thought that’s what they made them for.”

Momo’s face squeezes a bit, as the edges of her lips quiver. “That’s . . . one purpose of it, definitely.”

“I can't think of how your quirk might hurt someone you’re trying to help.” Katara crosses her arms. “I can think of how it can prevent injuries! Like if you come across someone with a broken arm, you can make a splint for them.”

Momo brightens. “That’s a great idea! I’ll need to write down the composition for that in my dictionary. I can also add more medical things too, like a stretcher, or a wheelchair . . .”

Momo whips out a giant book out of nowhere, dropping it on her desk. She mouths inaudible words as she starts to fill her journal with writing.

Seeing as Momo is busy, “How about you, Iida?”

Iida stands as straight as a rod as he announces, “My quirk is ‘Engines’! The engines in my calves allow me to accelerate based on which gear I switch into.”

Katara’s mind flashes back to the array of metal she saw embedded in Iida’s legs and tries not to grimace. “ . . . really?”

It won’t be hard to help him at least. Since Iida seems to favor combat, Katara has more experience to draw from.

After all, she’s well-experienced in battle injuries.

“If you’re going to rescue people during a fight, you have to be careful while you’re carrying them. You might move too fast and hurt their neck.” She explains.

“Oh, you’re referring to whiplash! I’ll make a note of that!” Iida nods.

As Iida turns to his paper, Katara whirls around to meet big, green eyes. “Oh, Asui—”

“Please call me Tsuyu.” She cuts in.

“Oh, okay. Um, what’s your quirk, Tsuyu?”

Tsuyu blinks, her voice neutral. “My quirk is ‘Frog’. Ribbit. I can do everything a frog does. I can jump high, I have stronger leg strength, and I can wrap things around with my tongue.”

Oh.

Oh, that’s really weird.

Tsuyu sticks out her long, pink tongue, and Katara tries not to throw up.

There was a time when Katara and her brother Sokka had gotten sick. Aang, in all his goodwill, searched for a cure to their illness.

The cure being swamp frogs.

Specifically, sucking on their skin.

Katara is . . . very lukewarm on frogs.

“. . . That’s useful.”

Is this why the principal made her go to 1-A?

Was it some twisted attempt to see if she can handle people with mutant quirks?

Well, Katara can adjust!

She turns around, meeting Tsuyu’s eyes. “I think . . . heroes get in trouble if they hurt villains too much, right? Maybe you should write about adjusting the strength of your kicks for certain people . . . ?”

Tsuyu tilts her head. “That’s a good idea, Katara-chan. I could also write about the mucus my body produces. It might be harmless to most, but some people might be allergic to it.”

That’s so gross.

Katara pastes a smile on her face. “That’s the right attitude.”

She turns around as quick as she can without seeming suspicious.

Todoroki opens his mouth, but she cuts to the chase.

“I already saw your ice quirk from the battle combat trials. You’re good at creating a large mass of water, but you overwhelm people with your ice. You don’t have to go so far! A light spread of ice can stop most people.”

Todoroki blinks, leaning back as Katara finishes.

She folds her arms, a bit frustrated at the passion behind her voice.

It can’t be helped. She looked at his face and saw Zuko instead, becoming much too familiar with him.

“That’s good advice, Katara.” Momo comments when the room gets a bit too quiet. “But Todoroki doesn’t have to worry about giving people frostbite. His half-hot, half-cold quirk allows him to freeze and melt ice.”

“Melt?” Katara turns her head.

“Indeed!” Iida cuts in. “Todoroki is the son of Endeavor, the number two hero in Japan. He inherited his flame quirk!”

Her mind tracks back to the conversation from yesterday.

This is the break they’ve been looking for! If Todoroki can produce flames, he can help Aang strengthen his fire-bending. It might not be a direct translation, but if Todoroki’s father is the 2nd strongest hero in Japan, then his son will—

“I only use ice.” Todoroki’s voice is a low chill that freezes the warm atmosphere in the room.

“Why?” Katara blinks. “Does it hurt to make fire—”

But Todoroki glares at his desk, those blue and gray eyes holding no shine to them. “I refuse to.”

Katara crosses her arms and frowns.

If Todoroki doesn’t want to use his fire, they can always ask his father to train Aang instead. It might even be the better option, since he'll have more experience in general.

But that’s the thing: Katara doesn’t understand.

“Why are you trying to be a hero then?”

“Katara!” Momo gasps, scandalized.

“That’s a completely inappropriate question to ask!” Iida scolds.

Even Todoroki seems put off, with how his eyes widen.

“How?! You guys are all trying to be heroes, right?” Katara points out.

Tsuyu puts a finger to her chin as she blinks. “It’s rather blunt, but it’s not unreasonable.”

“Yeah!” Katara spins around to shoot Tsuyu a quick smile.

At least someone here gets it!

But when she turns back around, Todoroki isn’t looking at her.

He’s gripping the sides of his desk and huffing out a breath of icy air.

“. . . I refuse . . . I refuse to use his power . . .”

Katara steps a little closer when a heavy hand falls on her shoulder.

“I’ll escort Katara to 1-B.” Aizawa-sensei’s voice cuts through the air. “You should consider her ideas and think about how to use your quirk to save others.”

With that, he leads her out of the classroom.

She leans back, but she only catches a glance of Todoroki’s slouched figure before the door closes.

The hallway is quiet as Katara follows Aizawa-sensei to the other hero class.

“You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

Aizawa-sensei glances back at her. “Interfered in an altercation between two students before the conflict worsened? Yes, I did my job.”

That’s fair.

Aizawa-sensei continues, his dark eyes focused on the path in front of them. “As you heard, Todoroki is the son of Endeavor. He has to deal with the pressure to succeed as a hero and rise from under his father’s shadows. Not using his fire could be one method of dealing with that pressure.”

“But the left side of his face is burnt.”

Aizawa-sensei glances at her. “Is that a problem?”

Katara isn’t afraid to meet his gaze. “It’s not! It’s just that . . . he has problems with his powers!”

Aizawa-sensei gives her an impassive stare.

She can’t blame him; that came out terribly.

But Katara doesn’t know how to explain it. There’s a certain connection you have with the element you bend. A bond that flows inside you.

She’s not sure if a quirk grants the same feelings, but it doesn’t matter.

The bond between Todoroki and his quirk must be horrific if he’s adamant on not completely using it.

She doesn’t think she’s wrong about this; the burn on his face must have come from somewhere.

But Aizawa-sensei returns his gaze to the hallways. “Speculating on a classmate’s circumstances is illogical and distracting. . . . In any case, your conclusion comes from personal experience.”

“I’ve been fighting firebenders for a good part of a year.” Maybe it only applies to Zuko, but she’s sure Todoroki has the same problems. “I know what I’m talking about.”

At that, Aizawa-sensei pauses, his body freezing for a second before moving on.

That’s right. This world doesn’t like to be reminded of wars.

Katara plays with the single strand of thread hanging out from her jacket. “I’m not trying to be hypocritical. I had that same problem before . . . being reluctant to use a certain part of your power . . . “

Katara looks down at her hand. The same hand that could twist the blood in a person’s body, violating them in the cruelest sense.

She tries not to shiver. “It’ll be bad if he gets caught in a situation where he’s forced to push aside that hesitance. . . it can make or break someone.”

Aizawa-sensei doesn’t reply, not at first. Instead, he closes his eyes, taking a second to inhale.

The next second, he lets out an exhale tinted with fatigue.

“ . . . Let me worry about Todoroki.” Aizawa-sensei answers. “Despite what it seems, I know how to handle kids.”

With that, they arrive at the next classroom as the rickety sign “1-B” hangs below them.

Before Aizawa-sensei can knock on the door, it flings open, revealing a boy with yellow hair and a smug smile.

“Aren’t you one of those orphans U.A decided to host? Did you finally decide to check out the superior classroom?” He snarks.

Orphans?!

Before she could give him a piece of her mind, a large hand grabs the boy’s collar, pulling him away from them.

“You can’t win someone over with that attitude, Monoma!” A hulking man with two bottom fangs protruding out of his teeth appears. “You gotta show some compassion!”

“Kan.” Aizawa-sensei deadpans. “Nedzu said you should introduce her to your class.”

The man known as Kan blinks, before he brightens and swings the door open. “Of course! You’ll see how accommodating 1-B is!”

In a surprising show of strength, he pulls her into the classroom, all as he holds the other student’s collar.

Katara only has a second to see Aizawa-sensei slink back into the hallways in the midst of the chaos.

She pouts.

She never asked him why he doesn’t reply to her emails . . .

Kan-sensei guides her to the front of the classroom, where all the students stare at her.

It’s a little weird and nerve-wracking, but Katara can handle this.

“Class, I would like you to meet one of the youths that U.A is hosting. Make sure to give her your absolute attention and kindness!” Kan-sensei announces as he stands beside her.

Right, it’s time to introduce herself.

“Hi, my name is Katara, and it’s nice meeting everyone here!” She does a little wave, but it falls a little flat.

Yet, a girl with grey eyes and orange hair stands up from her seat, a warm smile settling on her face. “It’s nice meeting you too! I’m Kendo Itsuka, and I’m the student representative for our class.”

Kendo gives her a shake, and Katara blinks from the force wrapping around her hands.

She’s really strong!

“If that’s how we’re introducing ourselves, I should stand up as well.” A short, stout boy with grey slicked-back hair and an amicable smile rises from his seat.

“I’m the vice representative for our class, Shouda Nirengeki.” Shouda says as he stretches out his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Katara muses as she shakes Shouda’s hand.

1-B is a lot quieter than 1-A.

Then again, 1-A has Bakugou in it.

She can’t say they’re less spirited though.

“I’m Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu! You’re seeing one of the future top heroes in Japan! Fight on!” Tetsutetsu shakes her hand up and down, nearly lifting her off the floor from the motion.

She’s sure she saw him turn full-on metal once.

“Our class is full of passion! You can trust we’ll put our lives on the line for you! Unlike 1-A . . .” Kan-sensei brags as he gestures to the rest of the excited students.

As the class starts to liven up, Katara can’t help but get caught up in their wave of enthusiasm.

“That’s right!” A girl with moss-green hair and dark eyes hops out of her desk. “I’m Tokage, and you can depend on me as a future pro-hero!”

Tokage slaps her hands against her shoulders as she beams. “I heard you’re not from around here, but don’t worry! I’ll answer any questions as best as I can!”

A flood breaks forward.

The rest of 1-B rises with excited and overlapping introductions.

“Kamakiri! I’ll carve up any villain—“

“I’m Rin Hiryuu, and I—“

“Let me speak! I’m Honenuki and I plan to become the best hero I can be—“

“I heard you have a water quirk! My shrooms would spread better with you around!”

“Quiet down! Quiet down!” Kan-sensei yells, to no avail. “Introduce yourself one at a time!”

The class spirals out of control, but compared to everything she’s gone through, this makes her laugh.

Is this what the principal meant? Did he mean she should trust in the heroes’ willingness to help them?

Or maybe she’s overthinking it? Maybe he just thought meeting more classmates would be good for her.

“SHUSH!”

Somehow, the word materializes out of thin air, spreading out to hit the ceiling.

Katara balances herself against the desk as the classroom shakes from the impact.

Kan-sensei turns around to face a boy with a bubble for a head. “Fukidashi! We talked about using your quirk in the building.”

The Fukidashi guy flutters around as the word slams into the sprinklers on the ceiling.

With a crash, bits of metal fall as water leaks and spouts.

Which is bad, but not the worse thing—

Something slaps her shoulder.

“Oh, I can tell your quirk is a good one!” The Monoma boy is rubbing his hands as it glitches green, yellow, and red.

She’s getting real sick of him.

“Now, Monoma, let’s try to behave—“ Kan-sensei steps towards him, but Katara is still miffed from the orphan comment.

“Hey!” She turns around, crossing her arms. “What is your problem?!”

Monoma winces, his hands flying back—

Cold.

Freezing.

Frigid.

A brrsssh falls over them, and suddenly, Katara can’t move.

Her sight is blurry and slow, and she can see the panic in Monoma’s eyes as he remains frozen in that same position.

Frozen.

The whole class is frozen.

Kan-sensei blinks are slow and steady under the ice.

Katara sighs as she hears Honenuki attempt to move his hands.

She’s definitely not gonna have enough time to study for that pop quiz.

Katara was taking way too long.

Nene sweeps her long braids off her desk, flicking off the cap on her black pen.

The pop quiz is coming up and the usual go-to people are being unreliable.

Ritsu is having a brain fart so severe that he can’t even bother to cheat.

On the other hand, Gohan is too busy flip-flopping on the ‘morals and ethics’ of cheating to help them.

Because of that, she and the rest of her classmates have to come up with the best strategy to get an A.

Anyways, Nene is starting to panic.

“Senpai,” Kou whispers to her, holding his own pen. “You have a little ink on your cheeks.”

“Ehhh?!” She pulls up her phone, and just like he said, her cheeks are now smudged with black spots. “How?!”

“It’s when you were writing your study guide notes on your sleeve. You rubbed it all over your face.” Ritsu points out, his head still resting against his desk.

Nene raises her arm, only to see a black blur on her arm.

“No, no, no!” She tries wiping it with her school jacket, but it only spreads the ink further.

“I can’t wipe it off!” Nene bounces up from her seat. “If Yamada-sensei sees this, he’s gonna know I was trying to cheat!”

Cold fingers lift her chin up.

“Let me see if I can help.” Despite the chilling touch, Hanako’s voice is warm as he rubs her face with a handkerchief.

Ah, it’s a little romantic—

But it doesn’t matter because Hanako isn’t her type! No way!

“There! It looks better now!” Hanako releases her, and Nene pulls up her phone, trying to shake the heat in her cheeks away.

“Huh?! Hanako, this isn’t better!”

Nene stares at the camera, hoping that the face smeared in black ink isn’t her.

She tilts her head, the figure in the camera tilts along with her.

She needs to wash this off pronto!

“I’m going to the bathroom. You guys better have a plan when I get back!” Nene says.

Kou gives her a salute. “You got it, Senpai!”

Aang, who was confused for a second, is now mimicking him. “Don’t worry! I got this idea with a bunch of paper air staffs!”

“You mean paper airplanes?” Hanako’s face is awfully unimpressed.

“What’s a plane?”

Oh, Nene doesn’t have time for this!

She rushes out of the classroom.

With a strategic hip bump, she opens the door to the restroom, darting her eyes to find—

“Yashiro! Weird to see you here!” Ashido gives her a big grin as she hops off the sink.

She rushes forward, wrapping her into a hug.

“Aaeeugghhghh…”

Nene doesn’t react well to pretty girls hugging her, okay?!

She lets her down, her fluffy pink hair somehow shining in the dismal bathroom lighting. “It’s soo unfair that we don’t see each other more!”

With Ashido stepping back, Nene can see Uraraka’s smiling face and Jirou’s wave behind her.

Oh, this must be where all the cool girls hang out!

“What’s with the ink smear?” Jirou asks.

Her original mission!

Nene bolts over to the sink, grabbing a bunch of paper towels off from the dispenser.

Wait . . . .

She shuffles her feet, her smile becoming a bit strained. “Um . . . So, what are you guys doing here?”

She can’t wash her face here!

Nene is under a mermaid’s curse that turns her into a fish when she’s submerged in water.

But if she gets water on her skin, scales will start forming!

What if they see her making scales?! She’ll look so uncool!

Uraraka gives her a nervous smile as she rubs the back of her neck. “Uh . . . I’m cramping . . .”

“As fellow crampers, we couldn’t leave Uraraka to suffer in the bathroom alone!” Ashido slings an arm around Uraraka. “We’re waiting for her Abuprofen to take effect!”

“I’m taking it as the opportunity to rearrange my Blotchify playlist.” Jirou says, waving her phone.

Nene ignores the mention of off-brand items. Things in the future are weird.

More importantly, “Oh, that’s neat . . .”

It’s not neat. Not at all. They’re not leaving anytime soon, and Nene needs to clean her face.

“Wait . . .” A slow smile creeps onto Ashido’s face. “I have an idea: I’ll give you a makeover!”

Huh?

Ashido slaps her bag against the counter, her smile growing wilder as she flings out products. “Oh, this is gonna be so good! I have some eye shadow that’ll make your eyes pop.”

“Ashido . . .” Uraraka has a well-meaning smile on her face. “Aren’t you forgetting something . . . ?”

Jirou is a lot more blunt. “She has ink on her face.”

Ashido pulls out a plastic bag as she yells in an All-Might’s voice. “Have no fear! Why? Because I’m here—with makeup remover wipes!”

Nene raises her hands. “I don’t know about that …”

“Oh, yeah.” The wild smile slips off Ashido’s face as she looks closer to the bag’s label. “This is for my skin. I have an acid quirk, y’know? It would be way too harsh for you. I don’t think it even has any water in it—“

“Perfect! I’ll take it! Thank you so much!” Nene grabs the bag, happy to see the ink fading off her face as she wipes.

“So . . . '' As Nene leans closer to the mirror, Ashido scoots closer to her. “Is that a yes to the makeover offer?”

“Isn’t it against the school rules to wear makeup?” Nene asks.

Jirou scoffs. “That’s the thing about having a mouse as a principal: he’s ridiculously lenient about dress codes.”

Hmmm, Nene shouldn’t. She only has thirty minutes before the pop quiz.

But then again . .

Nene twirls around, meeting Ashido’s eager face. “As long as it’s quick. I have a pop quiz to prepare for, after all!”

Uraraka covers her mouth as Ashido digs through her purse, muffling her giggling. “Is that what the ink was for?”

“Desperate times call for desperate measures! The whole class decided on it!” Nene shakes her head.

“Close your eyes.” Ashido rests one hand on the top of her head, while she holds a makeup brush on the other.

Nene obeys, feeling a fluttering motion across her eyelids. It feels different than the time her best friend Aoi did it.

Aoi-chan . . . She’s gonna give her a big hug when she gets back home.

“That reminds me,” Jirou says. “Tell Minamoto he did all the girls in 1-A a favour. Thanks to his heroic actions, Mineta broke his leg when he fell out the window. He won’t be coming back for the next two days.”

“Only two days? Isn’t that a short recovery time?” Nene doesn’t feel too worried for him, but still.

“Recovery Girl actually healed his leg the day of the battle combat trials.” Uraraka explains. “He’s out for two days because Aizawa-sensei suspended him. You can’t be a hero if you’re perving on women!”

“Perving on women without their consent, of course.” Jirou adds. “If being a pervert was an exclusion criteria for heroism, Midnight would be out of a job.”

“Jirou!” Uraraka shrieks, while Ashido giggles.

“Speaking of boys and attraction,” Ashido’s voice lowers a bit. “Uraraka! I saw how you were getting close to Midoriya!”

“It’s not like that! I was just so impressed, I promise!”

While Uraraka’s voice is shrill at first, she takes a deep breath, becoming much more pensive.

“You saw how those battle combat trials went, right? Seeing Deku run straight into the battlefield . . . I don’t know . . .” She twirls the end of her bangs, her eyes glowing. “I wanna be like that.”

Nene’s lips crumple up.

She doesn’t want to think of Midoriya, okay?!

During that encounter with that villain yesterday, Nene was so scared!

But when she saw how that guy was mocking Aang and Hanako, she got a little angry too.

Angry enough to kick him in the face.

It was super risky and Hanako got on her case this morning about it and Nene will never do it again—

But also, when that villain’s mask slid off his face—

Midoriya.

She’s pretty sure she saw Midoriya.

But Midoriya isn’t a villain!

He’s a nerd, a fanboy, a workout maniac, a bit of a jerk—

But he’s not a villain!

She’s been thinking about it all morning. Turning from a fish into a human must have messed up her brain.

Because Midoriya isn’t a villain. He’s the type of guy that’ll run into the battle of the century to save someone.

Nene couldn’t even manage to finish a workout exercise.

So that’s it.

Midoriya is not a villain and Nene was mistaken.

Right.

But the thought doesn’t go away.

It stays in the corner of her mind, haunting her with its implications and consequences.

She bites her lips, frowning as she listens to Jirou’s reaction to the combat trials.

“It was crazy! All those buildings and cars were falling around us. I’m surprised Midoriya ran out there.” The sound of some rock song leaks out of Jirou’s phone. “Some of the upperclassmen are saying the school staged it. Like that makes any sense.”

“It’s not like they were there to see it. I don’t blame them. If I heard of a fight like that, I’d think it was a joke too.” Ashido says, her voice going quieter. “For a second, I was starting to think All-Might was losing for real—“

Nene’s eyes snap open. “What do you mean by ‘for real’?!”

“It smudged!“ Ashido yelps, her face squeezed up as she holds Nene’s face and rubs her eye.

But Nene only focuses on how Uraraka’s lips quiver.

“I mean, it’s All-Might, Yashiro. He’s been the number one hero for years. Gohan and Kageyama are stupidly strong, but there’s no way they can beat All-Might. He was probably trying to lower the damage they made.”

Nene's jaw drops.

The battle combat trials were unforgettable. She can’t blink away how All-Might was struggling against Mob’s psychic hold. She couldn't have imagined All-Might coughing up blood from the punch Gohan gave him.

She can’t be the only one remembering these things, right?

“Yeah, we didn’t see the last few minutes of the match. All-Might probably went serious and took them down afterwards.” Jirou twirls one of her ear jacks around her finger. “I heard that the Hero Commission came to the school and was all up his ass for the damage.”

No way.

“I'm dreaming.” She says out loud. “You really believe that?”

Jirou smirks as she points her phone at her. “You sound like Kaminari. He went off in class all day, talking about how Gohan and Kageyama were going to be the new symbol of peace or something. He even got Sero and Tokoyami on board with him.”

How can Nene explain that Gohan and Mob were so strong that the Hero Commission were trying to recruit them?

“Don’t be sad, Yashiro!” Ashido laughs, handing her a tube of lip gloss. “Everyone has their own conspiracy theories.”

“It’s not a conspiracy theory . . .” Nene mumbles as she rubs the gloss on her lips.

But the more Nene thinks about it, the more it makes sense.

Who’s gonna believe that an experienced, highly-ranked hero was beat up by two kids? Especially if that hero is All-Might, the whole symbol of peace?

It’s stupid. Unbelievable.

Nene stares into the mirror with painted eyes and shiny lips.

It’s not the only unbelievable thing here.

“Hey, Ashido?” Nene turns from the mirror, a bit uncertain. “Do you think someone quirkless can become a hero?”

Ashido tilts her head. “Hmm . . . I’m not sure.”

“Ashido!” Jirou hisses from beside her.

“What?! Oh, yeah . . . you’re quirkless . . .”

This time, Ashido doesn’t answer immediately.

Instead, her lips thin as she paces around the bathroom.

“. . . You could be like a friendly neighborhood hero, like that guy, Spider-Man!” Ashido brightens.

Nene’s shoulders slouch. “Really?”

Jirou nudges her shoulder. “There’s nothing wrong with having your own little area to protect.”

She’s right, of course, but still, “I don’t know . . . That doesn’t sound Plus-Ultra to me.”

But Uraraka holds her hands as she smiles at her. “I think it’s pretty Plus-Ultra to save anyone. Even if it’s just a single person.”

“You’re always there helping each of us. You don’t mind comforting us even when we might push you away, and you’re not afraid to stand up for us. That makes you a hero in my eyes.”

That’s what Gohan was talking about during yesterday’s training.

Huh.

“Okay, this was a quick and dirty makeover, so you have to promise to treat me to a longer one later.” Ashido says as Nene hops off the counter.

“Of course! How many minutes do I have left before the pop quiz?”

Jirou glances down at her phone. “Fifteen minutes if you run.”

Oh.

Oh no.

“I gotta get going!” Nene dashes out of the restroom, her eyes on the prize.

The prize being an A on that pop quiz!

As she pulls the classroom door open, Nene pauses in her haste, eyes widening to take in the sight before her.

The desks have all been pushed up to the wall. Aang sits on the floor, copying the study guide onto comically large sheets of paper.

“Ummmm . . .” Nene blinks.

“Nene!” Aang springs up to his feet, before pointing at her. “You painted your face!”

“I got a makeover in the restroom . . . What are you doing?”

“Senpai!” Kou pops up from behind her, nearly spooking her. “ . . . You look pretty. . .

Aw, Kou . . .

Kou shakes his head, ridding himself of the blush on his cheeks. “We came up with a great idea!”

Aang nods, stretching his arms as bends the air.

In a whirl of air, the sheets of paper fly off the floor, rearranging themselves on the desk.

“Look, I’ll airbend these notes onto the ceiling, and we can look at them during the quiz. If Yamada-sensei looks up, I can move them to the board instead.”

It’s a great plan. In fact, it’s genius! Nene can’t see a single flaw in it—

“Yamada-sensei would obviously see you air bending.” Hanako points out, even as Aang slouches.

“Maybe Mob can move it.” Kou speaks up, turning to Mob. “Can you shift those papers around without that blue aura thing surrounding you?”

Mob is still sitting in the same position he was in when Nene left the room. His study guide is completely wet with sweat.

“ . . . I can try.” Mob says, squinting.

There’s a bright blue flash.

Papers zip around the room, with one even slamming into Aang’s face.

“ . . . Sorry, I can’t.” Mob’s face glistens with sweat.

On the other side, Kou is running around like a chicken with a missing head. “None of the sheets are in order now!”

If it weren’t for the fact that she’s wearing makeup, Nene would have started crying. “We’re doomed!”

The door swings open.

Nene turns around, expecting to see Yamada-sensei’s smiling face.

Instead, a soaking wet Katara stomps in, her face twisted in annoyance.

“What happened to you?” Hanako raises a brow as Katara squeezes water out of her braid.

“I met 1-B today. They have this dirtbag who can copy other people’s quirks.” Katara growls, even as Aang rushes to her side. “He copied my bending and ended up freezing the whole class!”

“Wait, what?” Ritsu raises his head from the desk, his eyes widening. “What do you mean he copied your bending?!”

The glare Katara gives him could boil metal. “I mean what I mean! Look, can we talk about this later? There’s no way I’m failing this pop quiz!”

“I have an announcement to make!” The legs of his desk screeches as Gohan rises out from his chair.

Ritsu gestures to the open space around them, his voice sarcastic. “You have the floor.”

As he trails his feet across the tiles, Gohan coughs, holding up a pile of sheets. “I’ve been thinking. Cheating is wrong . . . but if everyone fails when I could have done something, it wouldn’t feel right either. I think . . . I think I have a responsibility to help.”

Nene can’t believe what she's hearing! “You’ll let us copy your answers?!”

Gohan nods as he hands her his study guide. “I highlighted the questions that would most likely be on the quiz, but in case I’m wrong, I won’t mind if you guys look—“

“Yes!” Aang pumps his fist in the air.

Then, he runs around the classroom, whooping.

And then, he high-fives Kou along the way, before finally wrapping Gohan in a hug. “I knew we could depend on you!”

Gohan’s face turns bright red, even when Aang lets him go and slaps his back. “We’re not failing this quiz!”

“Aang.” Ritsu is rubbing the bridge of his nose. “You sit in front of Gohan. How do you expect to cheat off of him?”

The way Aang deflates is terribly sad. Nene swears she hears the squeak of a balloon letting out air as Aang frowns.

“You should help us out, Mr. Class President!” Katara points a crooked finger at Ritsu. “If we all work together, there’s less of a chance of getting caught!”

But Ritsu only sighs as he looks around the class. “I can’t. Thinking is hard today.”

The hot anger on Katara’s face mollifies. “Oh, do you have another headache?”

“Ritsu was acting weird earlier when Shinsou was helping us out of that locker.” Aang says as Gohan nods along to his words. “Yesterday was stressful, wasn’t it? Maybe you should get some rest.”

It’s a good idea, but Nene is starting to think Ritsu has a very different problem.

“Why were you in a locker—“ Hanako cuts himself off as Nene walks forward, putting both hands on Aang’s shoulders.

She needs to get to the bottom of this!

“How was he acting, Aang? Tell me everything.”

Ritsu’s eyes widen, and he snaps his neck to yell. “Don’t answer that, Aang!”

“Tell me how he was acting.” Nene shakes his shoulders. “You have to tell me, Aang!”

Aang looks between both of them. “Wh-what’s going on?!”

“Is it a big deal?” Gohan rests his hands behind his head as he watches them. “Ritsu was just quiet, and he kept staring at Shinsou. Oh, when Shinsou asked him about himself, he got really red—Aah!”

A notebook whizzes through the air, pelting Gohan in the face.

But Nene has already heard enough.

“Ritsu! I know why you can’t think today!” She squeals.

Ritsu’s face is paler than a bleached seashell dusted with baby powder.

He takes a step backward, then two, until he reaches the corner of the classroom. “Don’t say it—”

“Senpai,” Kou cuts in, his face confused. “What’s wrong with Ritsu?”

“Isn’t it obvious?! He’s—”

“Don’t say it!”

“He’s in love!”

An eerie silence falls onto the classroom.

Hanako and Kou are staring into space, their jaws slack.

While Aang looks surprised, Katara’s face squeezes like she just saw a fly give birth.

Mob and Gohan gaze at them with a ‘lights are on but nobody's home’ stare.

Ritsu keeps opening and closing his mouth, with not a single word coming out.

Nene’s not sure why everyone looks so confused. It’s obvious!

But somehow, the light rushes back to Gohan’s eyes as he says, “Oh, you mean Ritsu likes Shins—”

“Stop saying that!” Ritsu practically races across the room, slapping his hand against Gohan’s mouth. “ . . . I just think he’s cool, that’s it.”

“Oh, yeah?” Hanako has a smug smile on his face. “Why are you blushing~”

“I’m not!” His face darkens even as he never looks Hanako in the eye.

“It’s fine.”

Ritsu whirls his head, as Mob finally shakes himself out of his stupor.

There’s a gentle smile on Mob’s lips. “I’m happy Ritsu is making more friends.”

The sentiment is tender enough to make Ritsu look away. “Nii-san . . . you didn't have to say that . . . “

Nene can’t help but smile at that. Love is so beautiful. “Looks like we’re gonna have to fail the quiz after all.”

Ritsu reels around. “Wait, what are you talking about?”

“We need to be at U.A tomorrow to help set you guys up! With my matchmaking skills, we’ll have you together by the end of the day!” Nene squeals.

Sure, she may have her own bad experience when it comes to love. After all, she did end up cursed after she tried to get Minamoto-senpai to fall in love with her.

But that was because she was depending on Hanako! She’ll come up with her own curse-proof way!

With a skip in her step, Nene grabs a marker off her desk and scrawls her plan on the white board.

“We need this Shinsou guy to see all your positive qualities!” Nene taps her marker against the board.

Kou frowns as he looks at the board. “Which positive qualities?”

. . . oh, yeah. That’s hard to come up with.

“We need to make this Shinsou guy think you’re the only possible option for him!” Nene amends her previous statement. “I’m thinking . . . a mysterious flood in the school, and Shinsou is right in the midst of danger. But before it hits him, we have Ritsu swoop in and rescue him!”

Nene tops off her plan with a small heart on the board.

But Ritsu rushes up and wipes the board away with his bare hands. “Okay, no! We’re not doing this! We are gonna pass this quiz even if we have to write the answers on our foreheads or something!”

Aw, she worked hard on that plan . . .

As if noticing her pout, Hanako walks up and pats her shoulder. “We only have five minutes until we have to take the quiz, though.”

Ritsu doesn’t reply, taking the time to scan the room with a sharp gaze.

His eyes never fall on Hanako, instead landing on the desk behind him.

“Hanako, I have two questions.” Ritsu still isn’t looking at him. “Can you possess people and if you can, will they remember what you did in their bodies?”

Hanako’s face twists as he considers the question. A tint of sadness flashes in his eyes, but he pushes it aside. “It feels weird, but it's possible. I don’t know about the second question though.”

“I do.” Aang pipes up. “When Hanako possessed me back in that villain fight, I felt a lot stronger. But if Hanako hadn't clued me in on what he was about to do, I wouldn’t have thought he was possessing me.”

“Are we looking at a great, 100% foolproof, Ritsu plan?” Kou asks as he leans close to Ritsu.

“Foolproof? Hardly. Doable? We’re about to see.” Ritsu thumps his fist against his palm. “Yeah . . . I think this will work.”

“Yamada-sensei won’t be hurt in this plan, right?” Katara narrows her eyes.

But Aang shoots her a warm smile. “Don’t worry! If Hanako is just possessing him, he won't notice it.

The next five minutes go by quick, but Ritsu’s plan isn’t complicated.

Once Hanako and Aang reassure Katara they won't hurt Yamada-sensei, she’s a lot more willing to help them.

Nene didn’t even have to do much either!

As soon as the clock hits 1:50 pm, Yamada-sensei walks into the classroom holding a huge stack of paper. “I hope all the listeners here are ready for the pop quiz!”

Nene squirms in her seat, looking around the class to see everyone feeling more or less nervous.

But then, Aizawa-sensei follows behind Yamada-sensei, closing the classroom door.

Nene resists the urge to look back at Ritsu as she raises her hand. “Um, why is Aizawa-sensei here? I thought he had his own class to teach.”

“Lucky for us, I convinced him to help me proctor the pop quiz!” Yamada-sensei slaps Aizawa-sensei’s back, unconcerned with how exhausted he looks. “It was his idea after all.”

“Something I’m starting to deeply regret.” Aizawa-sensei deadpans, before his eyes narrow. “Where’s Hanako?”

Kou hops out of his seat, as sweat rolls down his face. “Hanako went to the bathroom, sir! I- I mean sirs!”

“You can sit down, Minamoto.” Yamada-sensei shares a glance with Aizawa-sensei. “I guess it can’t be helped. We’ll see about giving him extra time when he comes back.”

With that, Yamada-sensei passes the quiz sheet on to everyone’s desk, the paper flipped to the blank side of the page.

“Once I give you the word, you’ll flip the paper over and the quiz will start. We have to make sure everyone gets equal time!”

Gohan covers most of his face with his sleeve as he bends his head down on the desk. Yet, anyone can tell he’s nervous from how his tail keeps tapping against the desk leg.

Mob looks like a steaming kettle ready to blow with nerves as Yamada-sensei passes his paper.

Nene isn’t sure about this. No one said anything about Aizawa-sensei proctoring the quiz.

But Ritsu only narrows his eyes at the quiz, his face lined with determination.

Nene really, really, really hopes this works.

“When I say go, you’ll flip the paper and the quiz will begin. You’ll have ten minutes to complete it! Any last-minute questions?!”

No one says a word.

Yamada-sensei breaks into a smile. “That’s the attitude! Let’s get this quiz started!”

Nene flips the paper around, scanning the questions on the quiz.

. . . wait?

Gohan’s hand shoots up in the air. “Yamada-sensei. I think there’s something wrong with my quiz?”

Yamada-sensei rests his hand against the desk. “Really? Why don’t you tell me what it says?”

Gohan’s brows crunches as he squints at his quiz. “It says . . . This quiz is a logical ruse. . . .?”

“What?!!” Hanako screeches as he falls out of the whiteboard.

Yamada-sensei screams, hopping out of the path of Hanako’s tumble.

“You’re telling me,” Ritsu’s left eye is twitching, “ . . . this isn’t a real pop quiz?”

“Yep! A logical ruse to bring out your full potential! It’s way better than a simple quiz!” Yamada-sensei grins as he pulls Hanako off the ground.

“A quiz you would have all failed for immediately resorting to cheating.” Aizawa-sensei deadpans. “Are you aware that we have cameras in the classroom that Principal Nedzu takes pride in watching? You have almost no potential as heroes.”

Aang scratches the back of his neck as he smiles. “Well, at least there’s some potential . . . ?”

As he awkwardly chuckles, Katara face-palms and Kou groans.

Gohan melts into his chair. “ . . . I almost failed a quiz. Mom would have killed me.”

Mob is the only one that is smiling. He’s probably happy that the quiz was fake. “At least Hanako doesn’t have to possess Yamada-sensei.”

Yamada-sensei blanches. “Possess who?”

“Anyways, everyone here will be coming onto the 1-A field trip tomorrow.” Aizawa-sensei explains, ignoring Yamada-sensei’s cries. “We’ll be focusing on various rescue scenarios like how to deal with panicking civilians.”

“And who’s gonna be the panicking civilians? You guys?” Hanako asks.

“Nope!” Yamada-sensei springs up from behind Aizawa-sensei. “It’ll be you guys!”

“Since Nedzu noticed your hesitance behind trusting the heroes, he decided that letting you see our students in action will restore your faith in our establishment.” It’s as if Aizawa-sensei is reading off a script, with how his voice is so dry.

“Regardless, I expect each and everyone of you to follow my explicit instructions while we’re on this trip. Do I make myself clear?”

Aizawa-sensei’s eyes do not glow, but it’s a very close thing.

The entire class nods as Hanako rushes back to his seat.

So, they’re still stuck with Aizawa-sensei anyways. Bummer.

“Son. Yashiro.” Nene jumps as Aizawa-sensei calls her name.

Gohan’s voice is squeaky and tiny. “I-um-I go by Gohan—”

“You two still have to meet with Nedzu. Gohan will meet with him tomorrow and join us later for the field trip. Yashiro will meet with him the next day.”

“How come?” Katara eyes them with suspicion.

“Apparently, the little listener needs glasses!” Yamada-sensei answers. “You were squinting pretty hard to look at that quiz!”

“But what about Yashiro?” Hanako gives them a calculating stare. “Her vision is fine.”

“Teachers are usually prohibited from telling others about a student’s medical information.” Aizawa-sensei directs a cold glare at Yamada-sensei, who laughs him off.

That sounds ominous.

Before Hanako can press him for more details, the sound of the bell rings across the classroom.

“Looks like we’re all out of time, folks!” Yamada-sensei announces, grin wide on his face even as Aizawa-sensei walks out. “We’ll be having the field trip at noon tomorrow so make sure you’re ready!”

With that, they scramble out of the classroom, exhausted and tired from the school work.

Well, all they did was try and cheat on a quiz, but still, exhausting work!

“How many fingers am I holding, Gohan?” Katara raises three fingers up.

Gohan narrows his eyes at her hand. “. . . Three?”

“I don’t know. I think he can see perfectly fine.” Katara says as she turns to Aang.

Nene nearly tumbles from the cascade of students that flood the hallways. Luckily for her, Hanako is right by her side, grabbing her arm and keeping her steady.

He’s been so nice today, it’s almost suspicious. “Thank you, Hanako.”

But Hanako only shoots her a smile. “You can always depend on me, Yashiro.”

As they empty out onto the school grounds, Nene spies the crumbling school gates. “It’s a good thing we came late. I don’t think I could have handled any journalists.”

“If we’re being honest,” Hanako glances at the rest of their classmates who are lounging around the stairs. “None of our class could.”

He does have a point. Mob and Gohan are anxious, while Katara and Aang aren’t used to the paparazzi. Kou will probably end up putting his foot in his mouth, but Ritsu might manage fine.

Speaking of Ritsu, he’s leaning against the railings of the stairs, his face closed off as he stares at the horizon.

Nene glances up at Hanako only to see the sad look in his eyes as he watches Ritsu.

She can always depend on Hanako, but shouldn’t Hanako depend on her too?

“Stay here. I’ll be back in a second!” Nene wiggles out of his grip, even as he stretches towards her.

She bounces towards Ritsu’s lonesome figure, smiling as wide as she can. “Ritsu! I wanted—“

“No.”

Nene deflates. “You don’t even know what I was gonna ask . . .”

“Yes, I do.” Ritsu sighs, leaning further against the rails. “You were about to ask me to be nicer to Hanako because he feels sad or something.”

Nene folds her arms, her lips thinning. “You should talk to him. Maybe you guys can work your differences out . . . ?”

Something sharp crosses Ritsu’s gaze. “Work our differences out? Stop being dense. This is serious, Yashiro.”

“I know that! But still, you can’t even look at Hanako anymore! What Hanako did . . . He’s trying to atone.”

Ritsu’s grip on the railing tightens as he narrows his eyes. “Hanako killed his brother. We don’t know why he did it—since he won’t tell us—all we know is that he chose to murder him. He can atone all he wants but it doesn’t mean anything—nothing. It means nothing to me.”

Yet, a gleam of misery crosses Ritsu’s eyes as he turns away from her. “I thought he understood me . . . Worse, I thought I could trust him. I was dead wrong.”

Ritsu turns his back and walks back into the school with Nene helpless to watch.

She’s not sure how she can reach out to him. Not when he’s so upset.

“Nene.”

Nene turns her eyes to see Katara walking up to her, a frown on her face.

“I heard the conversation between you and Ritsu.” Katara comes closer, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

Nene lets out a sigh, eyeing Hanako’s stride as he tries to cut through the crowd of students flooding out of the school.

Then, she moves her gaze, catching Ritsu‘s red bag as he disappears into the school doors.

“I wish everyone could see what I see in Hanako.” Nene pouts as she whirls back to meet her somber eyes. “He’s complicated, but that doesn’t mean he’s bad.”

Katara exhales, her breath heavy and controlled. “What Hanako did . . . We can’t brush it aside. Ritsu seems to have a complicated relationship with Mob, sometimes. Learning that Hanako did that to his own brother hit him close to home. In fact, it’s gonna take all of our classmates some time to process it.”

Nene swivels around. “The class? I thought Ritsu was the only one having problems!”

“Nene . . . “ Katara crosses her arms. “Just because no one said anything doesn’t mean Hanako is off the hook. “I’m having problems with it.”

That doesn’t sound like Katara at all. She’s usually a lot louder when she has problems with things. “How come you didn’t say anything?”

Katara sighs, slumping down to sit on the steps of the stairs. “Gohan asked me to be considerate. I was reluctant but we need Hanako’s help in getting home.”

Gohan is so sweet! Even after hearing about Hanako’s past, he still supported him.

But that also means that everyone in the class is still hesitant to be around Hanako.

Which really sucks.

Nene sits down besides Katara, pouting as she rests her head against her arms. “Why can’t everyone get along? Is it too much to be optimistic?”

Katara gives her a sympathetic gaze as she rubs her back. “Nothing’s wrong with being optimistic. You just have to balance it. You can have your head in the clouds as long as your feet are still on the ground.”

Nene leans into her touch, her eyes narrowing at the ground. “So, I should be more like Ritsu, huh?”

Something muddles her blue eyes “. . . I’m not sure. Ritsu can take it too far sometimes. Hanako said he’s atoning, right? I . . . I want to believe it’s possible.”

Nene wants to reply, but the sight of Kou yelling as he runs up to them distracts her.

“Senpai! Senpai!” He has a huge smile on his face and he keeps waving his phone up and down. “I got Red on the line. You wanna talk to him?”

He’s talking to Red?

The rest of the class (sans Ritsu) walks over, filling the air with excitement.

“Huh?” Mob darts his eyes around, scanning the stairwell area. “Where’s Ritsu?”

Hanako pops up from behind the stairs. “Yashiro, you were talking with Ritsu earlier. What happened?”

Oh, she can’t explain that to him!

But right as Nene is about to sputter a lie, Katara shushes him. “Ritsu went to his dorm to clear his head.”

“Wow, you guys are lively today!” Red’s face appears on Kou’s screen as Kou holds his phone outwards.

Aang squeezes his face close to Kou, sneaking into the camera feed. “We’re going on a field trip somewhere tomorrow! You won’t believe what happened though! There was a pop quiz and—!”

“Ritsu got a crush! Isn’t that exciting?!” Nene can’t help but squeal it into the phone.

Red’s face scrunches up. “I thought Ritsu was a . . . wait, Toga! What’s the word for people who don’t believe in love?”

Toga doesn’t appear, but her voice rings out of Kou’s phone. “An atheist?”

Red pauses his packing, his face squeezing like he ate a lemon. “That doesn’t sound right.”

“Enough of that.” Katara moves Nene’s face away. “Let’s focus on what’s important: Did you find out where Giovanni might be hiding?”

“Yeah!” Red holds up a blurry sheet of paper. “I got a list of possible locations where Team Rocket might be. Toga and I have already narrowed it down some.”

“Cool! So we’re catching up to him?!” Kou shoves Aang away, ignoring his cries.

While Aang rubs his face, Katara frowns at the phone. “I doubt it’ll be that easy. These are only possible locations.”

“To be honest, I’m not sure any of these bases belong to Team Rocket.” Red rubs his chin as he looks down at the list. “But they might have been places Giovanni was considering. Finding a trail is our best bet.”

Mob looks down at the phone with a frame. “Will you take Hanazawa with you?”

“Uh-huh! We’re actually planning on looking through all the underground bases tomorrow. The only thing is that I won’t have any service while I’m down there.”

That doesn’t sound good.

“So if you get in trouble, we won’t be able to contact you.” Aang mumbles, the wrinkle between his brow furrowing.

But Red doesn’t look phased at all. “I’ll have Dimple come with me. If the worst thing happens, I'll send him over to get help. I’m more worried about what might happen when I’m not around.”

“Don’t worry.” Mob murmurs. “We’re not going too far. The field trip is still on school grounds.”

“I don’t know . . . maybe Dimple should—Pika!” The screen shakes as Red turns his head. “What do you have in your mouth?!”

The video blurs as Red starts to grumble, followed with the sound of static.

Without warning, a bright spark flickers on the screen before the video abruptly cuts off.

“I guess we won't have any news on Giovanni until the end of tomorrow.” Katara sighs as Kou taps his phone with a furrowed look. “I’m going back to the dorms to talk to Ritsu.”

Hanako narrows his eyes as Katara walks away, aiming to follow.

But Aang snatches his arm. “Hold on, Hanako! You said you'd show me how to make a paper plane!”

“I told you to look it up!”

“No way! You gotta show me!”

“Hanako,” Mob cuts in, his voice soft. “Are you going to teach Aang?”

Hanako doesn’t look at him, too busy glaring at Aang. “Why? Do you want to do it?”

“Ah.” Mob’s mouth wobbles as he looks away. “. . . I don’t know how to make them either . . .”

Hanako whirls his head, his eyes widening as he stares up at Mob.

Then, he spins around, dropping to the grass with a sigh. “Looks like I’m holding lessons. I can’t exactly say no to the person that saved me yesterday.”

Aang does a little spin as he falls next to Hanako. “Yes! Kou, do you have some paper with you?”

“Yeah! Lemme show you how a real paper plane expert gets it done!”

“Is it okay, Hanako?” Mob asks as he bends down to sit on the grass. “You don’t have to agree if you don’t want to.”

With how hard the sun is shining, Nene can’t tell if there’s a patch of red climbing over Hanako’s face. “I said it was fine, didn’t I?”

The corners of Mob’s lips curl upward, shaping into a smile that resembles the sun peeking over the horizon.

Hanako darts his eyes, blush dusting all over his face.

But she doesn’t even get to tease him about it!

Someone grabs her wrist and pulls her backwards.

“Since we have some free time and the school gyms are open, let’s fit in some training!” Gohan smiles as he drags her towards the school.

“But, but, but—” How is she supposed to watch Hanako and his blossoming friendships with their classmates now?!

Yet, Gohan doesn’t show any sign of slowing down, so Nene is forced to accept her fate of a sweaty and tiring afternoon.

As they circle back to the school yards, her eyes wander over to the half-destroyed school gates.

The media really did a number on it.

She looks back up to see Gohan following her gaze, his face lacking any expression.

“I can’t believe the news would go so far just to see All-Might.” Nene tilts her head as if it would reduce the damage done.

Gohan’s eyes narrow as he leads her back into the school. “He’s the strongest hero in this world.”

His eyes never leave the gates. “I’m sure there’s a lot of people that would do anything to get to him.”

Clink.

Clink.

Clunk.

Beep. Beep—

Ghost pauses his digging to pick up his phone.

“If you fuck this up, I’ll turn you inside out and use your skin as a sweater.” Ghost feels his brow rise as he reads the text out loud.

Creative, but unnecessary. Ghost has too much on the line to fail.

He dials up Shigaraki’s number, twirling the shovel in his other hand.

“Did you get my text, noob?” are the first words out of his mouth when he answers.

“Yeah, love the imagery.” He moves his phone to his shoulder, dropping the shovel to grab the metal sheets on his right. “You got everything I asked for?”

“Why do you need all this shit?”

Ghost sighs. “Can you read out what you have? I’m trying to make sure this raid works.”

“Fine! Let me look at the list . . .”

As Shigaraki mumbles about supplies, Ghost finishes the circuit on the pipes. He covers the hole he dug up with the remaining dirt and grass.

It’s a little conspicuous but he’s running on limited time. Besides, with everything that’ll happen tomorrow, people won’t be looking down on the ground.

“Guns . . . a lot of guns . . .”

Ghost rolls his eyes. “Can you tell me what type of guns they are?”

“No. Fuck you. We got quirk suppressants, knives, bullets, circuit breakers, EMPs . . .”

Ghost gets up, wiping the sweat off his face with his gloves.

“. . . a voice changer, some kind of vest, and . . . Trigger. What’s with the Trigger and the quirk suppressants?”

“Quirk suppressants as security.” Ghost replies. “Trigger . . . consider it a last resort.”

Shigaraki scoffs. “I’m not fuckin’ taking that shit. Those powerups are for noobs.”

“It’s not for you, dumbass.” Ghost goes over the list one more time, making sure nothing is missing.

Is he forgetting anything?

“Did you get the list of the students’ quirks? I need to make sure they’re a bad match for whatever rescue areas Kurogiri will drop them in.”

“Our inside guy got it . . . shit, they only wrote the quirks for half of the class!”

Ghost hums. A list of half the students’ quirks is still decent.

But their spy should know all the students and their quirks by now.

Are they getting attached?

Well, that’s none of his business.

“That’s good enough.” Ghost replies. “How about the nomus? Are they ready?”

Shigaraki hacks out a gleeful laugh. “Sensei made sure of it! We have the anti-symbol of peace and we have the new one, Nomu-1432AZ8!”

The static in Ghost’s ears echo.

“We’re about to begin the Quirk modification of 1432AZ8. Did you have the supply of spare quirks on standby?”

He remembers that nomu.

“If everything is properly collected, then we can start the process of converting Akiye Tanaka into a nomu.”

Akiye Tanaka. Quirk: Interdimensional Transport. Status: Nomu.

“Shigaraki . . .” His grip on his phone is shaky. “Have you seen the quirks of that nomu in action?”

Something shuffles on the other side of the connection. “No, but sensei said we’ll see it tomorrow when we kill All-Might with it!”

Ghost very much doubts that, but asking any more questions will get Shigaraki cranky. “Alright, when I give you the signal, have Kurogiri warp the remaining kids, as well as the villains.”

“You still haven’t told me what the fucking signal is.”

Ghost places a foot, satisfied when the land mine doesn’t go off. “You’ll know it when you see it.”

He hangs up, looking over his handiwork.

The entire arena of the USJ looks exactly the same as before he walked in.

Shigaraki actually had a smart plan. Using his quirk on those school’s gates and covering it up with the media’s appearance was ingenious.

As soon as he learned 1-A was having a field trip over at the USJ, Ghost had Kurogiri warp him over there with his supplies. The buzz with all the paparazzi had made it easy to blend in.

He now has about 24 hours to rig the area as much as he can before 1-A comes along.

Ghost grabs the shovel he drops, digging into the soft ground.

Kill the three kids that know his identity. That’s what sensei told him to do.

Clink. Clink. Clink.

He’ll do his fucking job. Three U.A kids that know his identity will be killed. For once in his life, he’s happy that Bakugou made it into U.A instead of him.

Clink. Clink. Clunk.

Ghost grunts as the shovel hits something metallic.

As for Aang and his friends . . .

They were looking for a villain with an interdimensional quirk, weren’t they?

He bends down, rubbing the dirt off until he sees the rusty, steel pipe underneath.

They’re about to get what they wished for.

Chapter Text

“Hmm . . . I don’t see any lasting damage on these joints. Looks like you’ve finally healed from your last attempt at using One-For-All.”

Izuku blinks, his head stuffy from the bright lights in the nurse’s office.

“Huh?”

Recovery Girl frowns at him. “Didn't you hear me, dear?”

He shakes his head at her question, yawning, as he leans against a stiff wooden chair.

Yesterday, Aizawa-Sensei ended their training early.

He had told him to use the extra time as a break.

Instead, Izuku had spent most of the night training and studying.

While he doesn’t regret the work he put in to become All-Might’s successor, he does feel a little tired.

“. . . Are you still there, dearie?” Recovery Girl pokes his head with the cane.

Izuku can only blink at the action.

Maybe he’s more than a little tired.

Recovery Girl notices too. “You’ve been pushing yourself, haven’t you? You and Toshinori are cut from the same cloth!”

She tsks at him before ushering him out of the small office. “I don’t want to see you today with any injuries. You hear me, Midoriya? Not a single scratch!”

“Yes, ma’am!”

Recovery Girl lets out a little huff before she closes the door on him.

Izuku exhales, already feeling lighter away from Recovery Girl’s scorn.

Today isn't starting off so well.

During first period, Aizawa-sensei had taken the class to the Omega Gym for quirk practice.

Izuku had, predictably, broken his arm.

Now, it looks like even Recovery Girl is getting sick of him.

Izuku clenches his fist, the pain of the last hour wiped away with Recovery Girl’s quirk.

He has to do better.

He has to get stronger. 

By the time he reaches class, Izuku has already thought of a few ideas for tonight’s workout session.

He opens the door, steeling himself for what Aizawa-sensei might say.

“Midoriya, you’re finally back from Recovery Girl’s office,” Aizawa-sensei comments as he leans over his desk.

Izuku darts his eyes.

All his classmates are sitting by their desks, decked out in their hero outfits.

Izuku is still wearing his regular school uniform.

But before his blood pressure could rise any higher—

“Don’t just stand there. Your hero outfit is by your desk.” Aizawa-sensei scowls. “Grab it, change into it, and meet the rest of us at the front of the school.”

With a yelp, Izuku flies over to his desk.

He fumbles with his suitcase as Kacchan snickers from across the classroom.

After the fastest changing session of his life, Izuku stumbles out of the school doors.

He’s midway through adjusting his hood when he slams into Uraraka.

“U-Ur-uraraka! Sorry, I—uh—the bathroom—“

“It’s okay, Deku.” Uraraka gives him a wobbling smile before pointing down at her shoe. “You got a little something stuck down there . . .”

Izuku looks down to see a strip of toilet paper clinging to his jumpsuit.

“Ha! You’re a riot, Midoriya!” Kaminari’s laugh booms as the rest of his classmates giggle at his blunder.

If he's lucky, the day will get better.

Izuku sighs as he rips the paper off his suit.

Even on the best of days, his luck is abysmal.

“Alright, enough of that.” Aizawa-sensei’s voice cuts through the class. “You probably have a few questions about what we’re doing here.”

Jirou raises her hand. “I have some—“

“Hold those questions.” Aizawa-sensei interrupts. “This week, you have tested your combat skills in the battle trials, and you’ve tested your quirks in general. Today, we’ll be testing your heroic aptitude with the trial of rescue.”

A wave of whispers and mumbles flow between them.

Yaoyorozu raises her hand, her lips pressed. “Sensei . . . You won’t be the only one teaching us?”

“No, a three-teacher group consisting of All-Might and I will lead you. You’ll see the other teacher and the location for the trial when we get there.”

“What manners of tribulations must we cross to embark on our journey?” Tokoyami asks. 

Aizawa-sensei blinks. 

“We’re taking the bus.”

“Whoo! So it’s like a field trip!” Ashido pumps her fist in the air as the rest of the class brightens.

Iida chops his hands in the air, already thinking ahead. “Everyone! Please organize yourselves into a single file line according to seat number!”

But then, he sees the bus, and his enthusiasm pauses. 

“Hey, guys! Over here!” Aang waves his hands in the air, smiling as the rest of 1-D waits by the side of the bus.

“Woah! We’re pairing up with 1-D again?” Kirishima turns to Aizawa-sensei.

As they reach the bus, Izuku finally notices the U.A. gym uniform they are all wearing. 

It’s a noticeable departure from 1-A, who had all decided to wear their hero costume.

“Sensei, que se passe-t-il? Why are we bringing the children here?” Aoyama asks, prompting disdainful looks from some of 1-D. 

“Hey!” Minamoto swings his fists at him. “We’re the ones helping you out!”

Aizawa-sensei gestures to them. “1-D has volunteered to assist with the trial of rescue.”

“Wait,” Jirou furrows her brow. “Does that mean we’re going to be rescuing you?”

“Yeah, I’m not excited about it either.” Ritsu crosses his arms.

But it looks like Ritsu is the only one feeling that way.

Aang bounces on his toes while Katara gives the class a contemplative gaze. 

Kageyama stares at the clouds above them, relaxed as he stands close to his brother.

Minamoto looks determined while Hanako watches them, his gaze considering.

Yashiro—

Ah. Yashiro squeaks and turns her head as soon as he looks at her.

She must still feel awkward about their conversation.

“Wait? Where’s Son—or Gohan? That’s what he prefers to be called, right?” Ojiro asks as he looks around.

“Yeah!” Kaminari springs up from the crowd. “Where’s the other pair of the FSOP?!”

Huh?

Izuku looks around, confirming he's not the only one confused by what Kaminari said.

“FSOP,” Sero explains with a lax smile. “It means the Future Symbols of—“

“Peace!” Kaminari finishes as he slings an arm around Sero’s shoulder.

There’s a beat of silence.

“Get on the bus.” Aizawa-sensei’s eyes don't glow, but his stare is still scary without it. “Now.”

The two sets of classes rush into the bus, ignoring any of Iida’s attempts at organization.

Though, it doesn't take long to get seated. 

The seats run parallel against the bus walls, averting the chaos that would come from a two-seated bus.

Izuku clambers into his seat and finds himself with Iida on his left side and Yashiro on his right.

“Do you think Aizawa-sensei is a good driver?” Uraraka whispers, nudging her feet against his.

The answer comes fast enough.

The bus accelerates to life, revving enough to elicit a huge plume of exhaust smoke.

Izuku tightens his grip on the arm bars as the bus shakes up and down.

“Iida, keep the noise level down as the class president.” The bus swerves as Aizawa-sensei spins the steering wheel. “My driving suffers when I’m distracted.”

“Right! I’ll carry out my responsibil—Ack!” Iida bumps his head against a handlebar.

As the road (or driving) starts to straighten out, Izuku takes the time to reflect on what’s coming next.

Recovery Girl had warned him not to injure himself today. 

She must have known that the class was going to participate in the trial of rescue.

All-Might and Aizawa-sensei are going to be there, watching his every move.

He has to prove he’s worth their time and effort.

“Midoriya-chan.”

Izuku turns to see Asui’s big dark eyes staring at him. 

“I was listening to your mutters when you mentioned All-Might.” She puts a finger to her chin. “It reminded me that your quirk looks similar to his.”

Oh no! He has to deflect!

“Im-Impossible! I mean—that’s impossible! All-Might’s quirk is a lot more varied and he doesn’t have as—as much drawbacks as me!”

“She has a point, though,” Ritsu says as he leans back against his chair, his eyes critical. “Your super strength looks the same. The variety is only in techniques and intensity. But that could be from All-Might's experience. We also don’t know whether All-Might has drawbacks either. It’s not like he’s transparent about his quirk.”

Kageyama shifts in his seat to look at Ritsu, his eyes shining with surprise. “Huh? Really?”

“I didn’t think you would have paid that close attention to All-Might.” Hanako eyes Ritsu from his seat, something gleaming in his eyes.

But Ritsu looks down at the floor, his face blocked with shadows. "After the hero combat trials, I couldn't help myself. I was a bit worried about my brother after all. Not that you can understand that anyways."

Hanako's lips curl downwards, resembling leaves that twist within themselves as they rot.

"Huh?" Minamoto juts out of his seat, leaning forward to glare at Ritsu. "Why the hell would you say that?!"

As if trying to ease the sudden tension, Yaoyorozu gives Hanako an encouraging smile. "Are you an only child, Hanako?"

The bus plunges into a cold silence.

Yashiro winces right next to him, her lips pursed as she peers at Hanako.

But Hanako ignores the stares of everyone on the bus, his eyes boring down at the floor instead.

Minamoto grimaces, his hand rising to scratch at his neck. "That's . . . That's um . . ."

"It's a bit personal," Katara answers instead, her hand resting against her lips, hiding her expression.

"Oh . . . th-that's fine. I asked because I don't have any siblings but . . ." A crease appears between Yaoyorozu's brows as she twists a strand of her black hair around her finger. " . . . I suppose some matters are private."

It's off-putting.

Why would Hanako consider such a simple question private?

It's too easy to let such thoughts cross darker territory.

" . . . I mean, All-Might is a lot more interesting to talk about!" Aang speaks up when the silence on the bus starts to echo. "Especially with how Midoriya's quirk looks so much like his."

Minamoto grabs the lifeline, with a little bit of spite leaking into his voice when he turns to Ritsu. "Yeah, Ritsu should keep talking about how they have the same quirk!"

What?

Ritsu shakes his head, eyeing Minamoto with a dark gaze. "I didn't say they have the same quirks. I said their quirks are similar. Like when Midoriya punched the air in the hero combat trial. All-Might has the same kind of move, right down to the wind that the impact causes."

The whole bus pays attention to him, with everyone eager to ignore the tension lurking in the air. 

Worse, Ritsu is making a lot of good arguments!

Izuku would have loved to discuss more of the intricacies of All-Might’s technique.

But not if it might reveal his connection to him!

If he starts hammering down against Ritsu, he’ll look suspicious.

Even Kacchan is looking at him, something else glowing in his eyes that isn’t sheer rage.

“You were also in All-Might’s office after the battle combat trials.” In a surprising turn of events, Todoroki stares down at him with his heterochromatic eyes. “You and some other blond man.”

Todoroki saw him?

“What are you talking about?” Minamoto stirs from his seat, confused. “Midoriya was in there with All-Might! I mean I didn’t see his whole body but I saw his blonde hair . . . thingies.”

Minamoto saw him??

Ashido kicks her feet against the bus floor with excitement. “Oohh, you're doing something with All-Might, Midoriya! You gotta tell us!” 

“Oui!” Aoyama shoots him a dazzling, suggestive smile. “What secrets are you hiding, mon ami?”

“Midoriya is entitled to his secrets, even if it is with the number-one hero!” Iida shouts across the bus, doubling the attention on him. “As his classmates, we must respect his privacy!”

Izuku buries his head in his lap and groans. 

It’s only been a week since school started, and he’s already close to exposing the truth about One-For-All.

At least Iida’s warning curbs the class’s enthusiasm.

Kacchan looks away, scoffing, while Ashido and Aoyama share guilty glances.

Todoroki, however, turns his head towards the window. “It doesn’t matter to me. I more or less figured it out. Besides, I’m not here to make friends.”

What?

Did Todoroki really figure out the secret of All-Might’s quirk? 

How much did Izuku give away?

“Deku, don’t worry!” Uraraka whispers across from him. “I don’t think Todoroki has figured out whatever you’re hiding. We’ve only known each other for a week.” 

Izuku forces himself to take a deep breath.

She’s right. The idea of a quirk passed down from one user to another is unbelievable. It’s not a conclusion anyone would think of.

He just has to be more careful around everyone.

But as he gives Uraraka a thumbs-up, a prick of guilt inserts itself into his chest.

He understands the need for keeping the quirk a secret, but it feels wrong hiding it from his new friends.

“Speaking of unnatural powers,” Kaminari cuts in with an excited grin, “Where’s Gohan? The FSOP club needs its leader!”

Ritsu sighs as he looks at Kaminari with an impassive stare. “He had to take a vision test so he couldn’t come. What are you talking about?”

“Don’t you remember the combat trials?!” If it weren't for the handlebars keeping him secure, Kaminari might have flown out of his seat. “He and Kageyama were like Bam! Ka-boom! Psssh! So, I, Sero, Tokoyami, and Kouda, have formed the FSOP club to honor them!”

While Ritsu doesn’t reply, the intensity of his unimpressed glare is more than enough to count as a response. 

“Kouda, you agreed with Kaminari’s scheme?” Ojiro asks, surprised.

Kouda opens his mouth, his face uncomfortable, when Kaminari cuts in. “Of course he did! It’s not a scheme! Kouda can recognize the future, just like me!”

“Kaminari,” Tokoyami coughs. “I'm afraid Kouda isn’t a true believer. He was attempting to get your help for the English homework when you invited him to your house.”

“What?! You should have said something!” Kaminari pouts as Kouda nods, confirming Tokoyami’s statement.

“I get why Tokoyami joined, but what about you, Sero?” Aang rubs his chin with a confused expression on his face.

Sero shrugs his shoulders. “What can I say? His mom makes some bomb ass cookies.”

Izuku glances at Kageyama to gauge his reaction.

But Kageyama looks through the windows, his mind wandering off to the rolling hills that U.A.'s campus is built on.

Has Kageyama been paying attention to anything they've said so far?

With how half-lidded his eyes are, Izuku doubts it.

As if noticing his silence, Kacchan scoffs. “Your club is a joke. A fattie, a freak, a bird head, and a dumbass all comin’ together to worship a shitstain and a monkey that needs glasses. This is why I'm gonna be the number-one hero and leave you extras in the dust.”

“Bakugou!” Iida’s brows furrow into his forehead. “It's disrespectful to address your fellow classmates like that!”

Katara glares from Aang’s side, her gaze darkening to something more vitriolic. “Some number-one hero you’ll be—I have seen lemurs more heroic than you.” 

Veins bulge out from Kacchan’s temple. “What the fuck did you just say?”

Ah.

Somehow, Izuku had forgotten that Kacchan and Katara were in the same vicinity.

“I said I’ve seen lemurs more heroic than you.” Katara crosses her arms. “You heard it that time, right? Or do I have to repeat myself again?”

“Katara . . .” Aang tenses.

If it weren’t for the metal bars holding him down, Izuku’s sure Kacchan would have leaped out of his seat. “I don’t need to hear shit from you. Actin’ all high and mighty, you’re just a water hose with legs!”

Izuku swears he sees hot, angry steam leave Katara's ears.

But before a fight can break out—

“Hold on, there’s a pothole in the road.” The bus veers to the right, jolting their seats and tilting the bus towards the left.

The bus is still shaking by the time Aizawa-sensei straightens his driving. “We’re three minutes out. Don’t kill each other back there, or I’ll have to expel you.”

“Don’t worry, Aizawa-sensei!” Yaoyorozu’s fingers turn white from how hard she’s grabbing her handlebars. “We’ll be on our best behavior!”

Luckily, Kacchan and Katara have resorted to glaring at each other.

Silently.

. . . This field trip isn’t going to turn out well, is it?

Muted whispers between his classmates return the environment to a level of normalcy. 

So, Asui’s voice ends up booming when she comments, “Bakugou is very ill-tempered.” 

Kacchan’s scowl starts to deepen. “Hah?”

“You don’t handle children very well either.” Asui continues. “It wouldn't surprise me if it turned out you used to shove kids into lockers in your free time.”

Ritsu tilts his head towards Kacchan. “What a coincidence. You won’t believe what he was doing yesterday.”

“C’mon, Ritsu, drop it.” Aang purses his lips. “It was a misunderstanding! Besides, Gohan and I bonded a lot in that locker!”

Izuku tilts his head as Kacchan starts to growl at Aang.

Kacchan . . .

“I can’t believe you, Bakubro!” Kirishima actually looks disappointed. “Bullying kids is so unmanly. If you keep it up, Aizawa-sensei will never let you have your gauntlets back!”

Izuku looks down at Kacchan’s hands.

As Kirishima said, the clunky grenade gauntlets he had adorned were gone.

All-Might did say that Kacchan would get in trouble for his behavior at the combat trials.

Yet, seeing confirmation of it is . . . different.

Kacchan had always seemed untouchable. 

His quirk is perfect, and everyone knew it. 

It’s why he was able to get away with everything he did over the years.

But now, Kacchan isn’t the top student in grades or conduct. 

Even his classmates see him as harmless.

They tease his threatening temper and reproach his repugnant actions. 

And Izuku isn’t the only one observing it.

Kacchan doesn’t reply, instead folding his arms as he grumbles under his breath.

But Izuku can see the bewilderment and frustration he tries to hide in his eyes.

They’ll both have to adjust to this new dynamic.

“We all have things to improve on, both mentally and physically, but that shouldn’t discourage us,” Yaoyorozu says as she holds the handlebars. “I believe in all of our potentials as aspiring heroes.”

Just as she finishes her speech, the bus accelerates before braking to a stop.

“We’re here—stop screaming,” Aizawa-sensei announces from the driver's seat. “You can get out now.”

As Izuku stumbles out of the bus, he can’t help how his eyes widen.

It’s like they stepped into a glittering new world.

They’re in a closed-off stadium large enough to fit at least a thousand people. From the height of the plaza they’re in, Izuku can see different areas swaddling each other. 

He can smell the smoke wafting from one corner of the stadium.

He can hear the rain pelting in another.

The plaza is huge, decorated with a giant fountain that billows sparkling water.

Izuku is downright amazed.

“Deku! Iida!” Uraraka has stars in her eyes and a death grip on his and Iida’s arms. “It's Thirteen! They're my favorite hero in the entire world! Oh my gosh!”

Thirteen walks up to them, the hero clad in their space suit as they wave them down. “Welcome, kids, to USJ! Universal Studios Japan!”

“We’re at Universal?!” Yashiro bounces on her toes as she holds Minamoto and Hanako’s hands. “I’ve never been before!”

“Ah, ha.” Thirteen sounds a little less enthusiastic at the sight of 1-D. “That was a joke. We're actually at the Unforeseen Stimulation Joint.”

As Yashiro pouts, Izuku watches as Aizawa-sensei signals to Thirteen.

He ends up sighing when they raise three fingers up.

But he doesn’t have time to wonder about it when Thirteen clears their throat.

“Welcome, everyone! As you may have noticed, this stadium accommodates seven different rescue zones. Right now, we’re in the beautiful Central Plaza. We’ll meet up here each time you finish your rescue scenarios."

Thirteen gestures at the arena behind them. "Going counter-clockwise, we have the Downpour Storm Zone. Then, there's the Flood Zone, the Conflagration Zone, and the Mountain Zone. Finally, we got the Landslide Zone and the Ruins Zone.”

Minamoto raises his hand, his face squeezing. “Um, Thirteen-Sensei, can you repeat that again?”

But Thirteen laughs. “I know it’s a lot for one speech, but don’t worry, I’ll keep repeating it throughout the day. Besides, the zones are very distinctive. I promise you’ll get the hang of it by the end of the field trip.”

“Yosh!” Minamoto pumps his fist.

Izuku takes the location of the zones to memory, though.

It might help him during the early rescue scenarios to know which zone is next to him.

But Izuku’s attention snaps back to Thirteen as their jovial demeanor suddenly fades.

“1-A. First, you tested your capabilities with the quirk assessment tests. Then, you participated in the battle combat trials to have your first taste of a hero fight. Now, we’re getting to the heart of heroism: rescue.”

Thirteen’s voice takes a darker shade as they face the class. “My quirk allows me to create black holes. If mishandled or misused, it has the potential to harm. At the same time, it’s a big part of my arsenal as a rescue hero. As pro-heroes, we must be aware of the power of our quirks if we want to use them effectively.”

They clear their throat, gesturing to the area around them. “That’s why we’re here at the USJ! Push your quirks to their limits, learn to rescue others, and become stronger heroes!”

A wave of energy passes through the crowd with their speech.

Izuku looks down at his gloves, glowing with determination, and clenches his fist.

Thirteen turns to 1-D. “Alright, we’ll have you guys spread out through the plaza—“

Clap. 

Clap. 

Clap.

It comes from nowhere, cutting through Thirteen’s voice.

A discordant sound resembling the screech of broken glass clawing against a blackboard.

Izuku turns around.

A figure standing in front of the water fountain greets him.

Despite the situation, Izuku’s eyes are on the green, limited edition All-Might hoodie. 

He catches the glow of the iridescent lens of a rugged gas mask. 

His gaze flickers over to the bright blue sneakers they are wearing.

The more he looks at this stranger, the more his blood itches underneath his skin.

What’s going on? 

The stranger stops clapping. “That was . . . ,” The black mask covering their face turns their voice deep and staticky. “One of the best speeches I’ve ever heard. You are one of a kind, Thirteen!”

The wind cracks.

Something whips through the air.

Izuku blinks.

Aizawa-sensei’s scarf soars in the air, aiming right at the stranger.

But they dodge the attack, side-stepping the twisting fabric.

“You know, Eraserhead?” The air screeches as Aizawa-sensei’s scarf veers through it. “I’ve been studying how your capture scarf works for months. I’m nowhere near beating you, but I think I can dodge most of your long-range attacks.”

Aizawa-sensei tsks, his eyes hiding behind shuttered yellow glasses. “Who are you? How the hell did you get in here?”

Whispers of uncertainty and confusion float in the air.

Something hisses around them, doubling the tension that threatens to suffocate them.

Kirishima blinks, his brow crumpling as he looks around. “What’s going on? Is this part of the stimulation?”

“Stand back!” Thirteen stretches out their arm, blocking any of them from getting closer. 

Izuku looks back, the pit in his stomach worsening as his classmates stumble with unease.

Something pulls Izuku’s eyes back to the stranger.

In the face of two pro-heroes, they are the embodiment of stillness.

“Are you pulling out all the stops for me?” Calm and calculating, the stranger stands in front of the fountain. “I just wanted the chance to meet All-Might. I don’t see him though . . .” 

Light bounces off the lens of their gas mask. “ . . . What a disappointment.”

“Aizawa-sensei, that’s the villain we met two days ago!” Hanako narrows his eyes at the villain. “They’re wearing a different disguise, but I recognize their mannerisms.”

The rest of 1-D stiffens.

Aang tenses while Katara stands back, her face squeezed as she sniffs the air. 

Kageyama and his brother frown, shooting each other uncertain looks.

Minamoto growls as he and Hanako hold Yashiro’s arm.

Yashiro—

She’s looking right at him. 

Her eyes are dying stars, and she lets out a whimper that could have killed the world.

“Thirteen, take the kids and get back to the bus. Call for backup as soon as you get to the main building at U.A.” Aizawa-sensei’s voice leaves no room for argument.

Kirishima turns around, his feet planted on the ground. “But you’ll be the only one alone with the villain! We can wait for backup here!”

“I’ll stay behind too!” Aang steps forward, a determined look on his face. “I met him first. If I could just talk to him—“

Aizawa-sensei cuts him off. “No! Your safety is our first priority!” 

The villain stares Aang down, his eyes hidden behind that caustic gas mask. “I have nothing to say to you.”

“Aizawa, I can’t get in contact with any of the other heroes at U.A.” Thirteen shakes their head.

There’s too much going on for Izuku to keep up. 

Aizawa-sensei’s focus is entirely on the villain.

Aang watches the villain, his mouth set in a frown.

The rest of the class is divided, hovering between Thirteen and Aizawa-sensei with uneasy faces.

A noxious stench whirls in the air as if the tension around them prompts it.

Izuku clenches his gloved fists, burdened with the inability to act.

But then, Kacchan finally steps away from the crowd.

His red eyes shine as he scrutinizes the villain. “This dickhead doesn’t got shit on us. One good swing, and I’ll have them laid out.”

The villain lifts his head at the sound of Kacchan’s voice.

He shouldn’t be able to tell with that gas mask, but somehow, Izuku can recognize the villain’s body language.

A mocking, sickening joy is seizing them.

The villain leans forward, glee in his scratchy voice. “Oh, and are you gonna fight me, Bakugou?”

The air turns frigid cold.

Kacchan swivels around. “Huh? How the fuck do you know my name?” 

“Come on, Bakugou,” The villain shrugs his shoulders. “You don’t remember me? Then again, I was one of the many kids you decided it would be fun to beat up. Do you need a reminder?”

Kacchan narrows his eyes as shadows block his face. “Shut the hell up.”

“And if I don’t?” The villain tilts his head. “Will you come over and blast me?”

Aizawa-sensei grits his teeth as he whips his head around. “Bakugou, listen for once in your life and stand down! Follow Thirteen back to the bus!” 

“Oh, but don’t you know? Bakugou is going to surpass All-Might one day!” The villain laughs. “He can’t start hiding behind his teacher when a villain comes by.”

But Kacchan doesn’t respond.

No, he’s standing still. 

He’s trembling. He’s clenching his jaw and baring his teeth. He’s staring and scowling and shrinking his pupils to little red pricks.

The villain pauses.

The air still hisses.

A malicious wonder leaks into the villain’s voice. “Oh, Bakugou . . . are you spineless now?”

Aizawa-sensei turns around, focusing on the hair rising on Kacchan’s skin. “Bakugou!”

“Fuck you—“

“Bakugou!” Katara darts away from Aang’s side, racing towards him with terror in her eyes. “Don’t! This smell—it’s gas—“

Something moves in the corner of Izuku’s eyes.

The villain bolts forward, the lens of his gas mask shining.

Aizawa-sensei whips his head.

But Kacchan is faster.

Giant sparks flare under Kacchan’s hands as he launches himself forward. “Die!”

He sees it.

Then, all he sees are sparks of blue and white.

The air burns red hot, hotter than any of Kacchan’s explosions.

Screams and shouts combine with an overwhelming force that lifts him into the air.

For a second, Izuku wonders if he’s about to die.

Then, fragments of indigo wrap around his body, cutting off the heat that nearly drowns him.

But as Izuku flies through the air, the indigo aura protecting him, he stretches his hand to reach Kacchan.

Kacchan, who is further away from everyone else.

Kacchan, who floats outside the field of indigo shards.

Kacchan, who Izuku can’t reach.

Izuku can’t reach him—

He blacks out.

“ . . .”

“Thirteen-sensei? Thirteen!”

“Hold on, I-I think I can fix this!”

“ . . . “

“Nii-san … y-you didn’t protect everyone…?”

“I —I was too slow … I was too slow!”

“ . . .”

“Stay calm! Don’t go near the fires! Stay close to each other—“

“ . . .”

“Ghost, you piece of shit! You call this a fucking signal?! . . . At least you did your job . . . Look at all the weak hero brats!”

“ . . .”

“Aang! Thirteen told me to save Bakugou, but I don’t have enough water!”

“Aang? . . . Are you … crying?”

“ . . .”

“Yashiro! Stay behind me!”

“Senpai, hold my hand!”

“Yashiro—“

“ . . .”

“Where the fuck is he?! Where is All-Might?!”

“ . . .”

“. . . Unlucky souls, witness the rise of the League of Villains as I scatter all of you to your dooms!”

Something is wrong.

Red whips his head, staring into the blue, blue sky as if it could give him an answer.

"Reddie?" Toga glances at him, her head tilting as she sits beside him in the cab. "What are you looking at?"

Pika chirps at him, but Red can't listen to it.

Something is wrong.

A burning feeling in his gut repeats it over and over again.

"I don't know . . ." Red bites his lip, glimpsing outside the taxi's window at the traffic they're stuck in. ". . . I got a bad feeling though."

But he's not sure what he's worrying about.

The rest of the kids are on some school trip at U.A., so they should be safe.

Since Hanazawa is helping them, Dimple is (albeit not of his own volition) sticking close to Mr. Reigen.

There shouldn't be any problems there.

Even his and Toga's mission to search the last location on Ms. Miyake's list of potential Team Rocket hideouts isn't exactly threatening.

It could be that they might be running straight into an ambush.

But they're meeting up with Hawks, Hanazawa, and Dabi at the hideout. Even if Giovanni planned a trap, Red is sure they'll pull through.

So why . . .

Why does it feel like things are about to go horribly wrong?

Toga furrows her brows, her thumb rising to her lips. "I don't know what you wanna do, Reddie . . ."

He huffs, both amused and frustrated at the irony.

He doesn't know what he wants to do either.

Agitated at his frustration, Pika buzzes, pawing at the collar of his jacket.

Red lifts it up and readjusts it to his lap, ignoring the glances of the nervous taxi driver. "Maybe it's because I have more things I'm responsible for . . . I'll check up with everyone once we finish searching the hideout."

After all, he won't have the energy to worry when he's looking for Giovanni.

He won't have the energy to do anything except fight against his machinations.

"I'll have to trust in everyone's strength." Red sighs, rubbing Pika's fur despite the inherent risks of that action.

"Stop worrying about other people. You should worry about us." Toga folds her arms, sinking deeper into her seat. "We're gonna face those weird monsters again . . ."

"It'll be fine, Toga." He says, his mirth growing as Toga continues to mope.

But he looks back at the window, sees the too-clear sky and all his laughter vanishes.

With the slow dread that coils in his stomach, Red can only hope that everything ends up alright for the rest of them.

It’s blinding.

The light of the blast, that is.

The heat hits him first, scorching and blaring.

Then, it’s the sound of the blast, screeching as everything around him shakes—

The wind roars.

For a second, he’s weightless.

A second later, he’s rolling out of Kurogiri’s portal. 

Ghost collapses, gripping the ground underneath him.

Nausea overwhelms him.

He dry heaves.

His ears ring.

Black spots blur his vision.

“Fuck,” He can’t stand; the pain is too much. “Damn it . . .”

Something kicks his side.

Trembling, Ghost lifts his head to meet Shigaraki’s eyes.

The effort almost kills Ghost, but he drags his lips open to ask, “D-did . . . Did you bring my stuff...?”

“Dumbass! This is the fucking signal you were talking about?!” Shigaraki kicks him one more time. “You don’t use your biggest attack at the start of the battle!”

“ . . . I prepared . . . for this . . . “ Blood rolls down Ghost’s lips.

The plan was for Kurogiri to grab him right before the blast erupted.

But Ghost had underestimated how long it would take for the heroes to notice the natural gas.

Worse, he underestimated how much power Bakugou would have put into his quirk.

Even with his heat-resistant clothes, he would have died if Kurogiri intervened a second later.

What a mess that would have been. (What a relief it could have been.)

Ghost coughs out the last bits of smoke in his lungs. “ . . . Shigaraki . . . My stuff . . .”

Shigaraki glares at him.

Without another word, he tosses a suitcase, letting it land on the ground next to him.

Despite that, Ghost forces himself to sit up, pushing through the pain racketing his body.

He grabs the suitcase, his fingers vibrating. “ . . . H-how . . . the raid . . . ?”

Shigaraki drags his fingernails over his neck, his eyes turning wild. “All-Might isn’t fucking here!”

Ghost bites back the remark staining his tongue. 

Of course, All-Might isn’t here. He would have stopped the raid as soon as it started. 

But All-Might isn’t here.

Instead, the air trembles with sparks.

Pieces of the glass skylight tumble downwards like aciculated rain. 

Smoke mixes with the stench of dust, swirling into a cloud of misery.

Discord rushes to fill the void the symbol of peace left behind.

Kurogiri ignores the roars of criminals piercing the air. “As planned before, I transported the students to the areas least suitable to their quirks. Our forces are dealing with them now.”

Ghost flips open the suitcase Shigaraki passed to him, eyeing the equipment thrown in.

An H&K USP9 pistol. 3 magazines for 15 rounds each. A tranquilizer gun. 

He lifts the tranquilizer gun, swishing the solution of Trigger in the ammo.

He’ll make do with this. 

He would have preferred a rifle and more magazines.

He’s definitely missing the quirk suppressants he had asked for.

But Shigaraki looks pissed, and Ghost doesn't want to rile him up.

He raises the hem of his All-Might hoodie to refill his utility belt with his weapons. “ . . . what . . . now?” 

Shigaraki doesn’t answer.

Instead, he growls as he looks over the landscape.

Right in the Ruins Zone, three students stand among the rubble.

Even with torn uniforms, they face their forces with unmarred skin.

There he is.

The one variable that Ghost can’t solve.

The boy with dark eyes and a bowl haircut. 

The air around him sparkles with an indigo aura as he tosses villains around with ease.

“I fucking hate cheat codes.” Shigaraki grinds his teeth. “We could have killed off all those hero brats in that blast if it weren’t for that shield he put up.”

Ghost squints, focusing on the boy's shaking body as he helps one of his classmates stand. 

His hair ruffles.

His aura splinters.

The boy shakes with barely-veiled rage.

Ghost turns to Shigaraki. “He’s the one that stopped Nomu-455HD21 with his quirk.“

His quirk seems to create a psychokinetic barrier that can contain any force. 

Ghost had considered that—hence he had used Bakugou as a starter for the explosion.

Yet, even with the force of the blast, that boy had still managed to protect most of his classmates.

“Psychokinesis isn’t an easy quirk to match.” Ghost pulls his gas mask back down on his face. “Be glad we got rid of a few of them.”

Shigaraki swivels his head. “Shut the fuck up! All-Might isn’t even here, and we’re already at a boss level?! I want that brat dead!”

“Perhaps,” Kurogiri walks closer to them, swirling with purple and black. “We should worry about the one remaining pro-hero fighting.”

“Huh?” Shigaraki turns his head.

Crack.

Eraserhead, one of the most skilled underground pro-hero in Japan, breaks a grunt’s ribs without a pause.

He slides through the crowd of villains they had picked up from the streets.

His motions are smooth, reserving energy as he delivers crushing blows without a huff.

Ghost looks at the boy with power flowing through his fingertips.

He turns to the man attacking the mob of criminals with nothing but a scarf and his bare hands.

He shakes his head.

This is ridiculous.

“Fuck it.” Shigaraki scowls, turning to Ghost. “You said you had that plan with Trigger. Let’s use it!”

Ghost frowns. “What happened to not using your biggest attack at the start of the match? I’m saving that plan for when we’ll need to escape. We’re not using it for two people.”

He watches the villains roaming around them, as a metal bracelet attached to their wrists blinks on and off.

With the risks involved in that plan, Ghost isn’t keen to use it, let alone for dealing with a singular student and his teacher.

“Fine!” Shigaraki gives him a nasty glare. “I’m sending the nomus after them. Let’s leave All-Might with a welcome present. Nomus!”

Ghost whirls around, as the monsters respond to their master’s voice.

Nomu-56RF. A mutant beast with scorching black veins that run through its muscles. 

Donning nothing but the jeans it died in, the nomu screeches with a beak dripping with saliva.

Nomu-1432AZ8. A humanoid with flesh as pale as the pernicious fungi that grow on corpses. 

Its bones jut against its skin, shifting its body into a mosaic of sharp edges and stretched muscles. 

It has no voice to scream with, no eyes to see with.

No will to live with.

Ghost turns back to Shigaraki, ignoring the shiver running under his skin.

Yet, Shigaraki stares at Eraserhead, his lips curling upwards. “Eraserhead just took down fifty of our men in three minutes. Isn’t he so cool?”

People don’t usually smile like that when someone thwarts their plans.

Ghost narrows his eyes. “. . . What are you thinking of doing?”

“Send him over to that brat,” Shigaraki ignores him, motioning to Kurogiri. 

Kurogiri nods.

In the blink of an eye, Eraserhead dropkicks a grunt and falls right into a purple portal.

Ghost doesn’t get the chance to question Shigaraki.

Instead, Shigaraki grabs him with a four-finger grip, throwing him into a portal—

The air rushes against his ears—

—And he’s rolling to his feet, as crumbling buildings and cracked roads surround him.

“Kageyamas, Tokoyami, get behind me now!” Eraserhead’s voice rips through the air.

Ghost stands up, staring at the three startled students cowering behind their teacher.

“You!” Shigaraki steps out of the purple portal with his hand pointing at their latest target. “You destroyed one of my nomu! Who the hell do you think you are?!”

The boy gives Shigaraki a careful look, “I’m Kageyama Shigeo—”

“Nii-san! Don’t answer them!” The other boy, now confirmed as his brother, cuts him off.

Eraserhead pulls the kids behind him, his voice low and steady, “Don’t take your eyes off me.”

Suddenly, Ghost is dodging the blood-stained ribbons whipping in the air.

He weaves away from the whirling scarf, only for something to hook onto him.

Ghost looks down.

Pale fabric wraps along the length of his wrist.

Suddenly, he flies in the air, colliding against the dusty concrete.

His vision flashes black and white.

Blood pools in his mouth as he raises his head.

Eraserhead stares at him through shuttered goggles, his body full of hesitation. “You’re a kid ...?”

Ghost doesn’t reply.

Instead, Shigaraki dashes forward, grabbing Eraserhead’s arm.

Something cracks.

Then, he and Shigaraki are tumbling, as Eraserhead kicks them away.

One portal later, Ghost is back on his feet, staring across the distance as Eraserhead grips a bloody limb.

“Aizawa-sensei!” Kageyama’s brother yells, his face full of alarm. “Your arm is peeling away!”

Blood drips on the floor as Shigaraki’s quirk decays the skin off the arm.

Eraserhead looks down at the miasma of pink muscles and grunts, “Stay behind me!”

Eraserhead won’t survive this. It’s impossible.

A stone sinks into the pit of his stomach, but Ghost pushes the feeling aside.

Sensei had already made it clear that people would die today. 

The memory of Thirteen’s bloody body flying through the air reappears.

The memory of the shock on Bakugou’s face reappears.

The memory of his skin disintegrating as heat consumed him reappears.

People have already died today.

Shigaraki coughs next to him.

“You heroes piss me off.” He claws the base of his neck. “I planned all this shit, gathered up all these NPCs, just for All-Might not to come . . . I fucking hate him!”

His red eyes shine like beacons in the sky. “Maybe he’ll come quicker if I drop a few bodies on the ground.”

Ghost steps back.

“Tokoyami! Kageyama! Take your brother and run!” Eraserhead whips his scarf, wrapping it around Shigaraki’s arm.

“Sensei!” One of the students yells.

Eraserhead tightens his grip and pulls.

Shigaraki flies in the air, a wide smile stretching across his face.

It’s over.

Shigaraki lets the words loose. “Nomu!”

A pause.

Then, a bone-shuddering thud that cracks the earth apart.

It lifts him.

The sheer power of two nomus smashing the ground launches him away.

One of the nomu—Nomu-56RF—swivels its head as it lands, gazing at Ghost with those bulging eyes.

Time slows for a second.

Ghost is small, almost nothing at all.

“Nomu-56RF! Show him your power!”

Suddenly, the monster turns its head, and Ghost can breathe.

He falls through one of Kurogiri’s portals—the wind rushing past his ears—before landing on the ground.

He pushes past the sight of the rubble, the falling boulders, the carved-up streets—

There it is; Nomu-56RF.

Its misshapen leg crushes Eraserhead’s back.

Eraserhead’s black hair covers his face, spilling over the cracks of the cement.

“Look at him! He’s all useless now!” Shigaraki lands right beside him, drunk off the havoc. “Nomu, break him to pieces!”

The hulking nomu bends its knees, picking Eraserhead with its dust-tainted claws.

Then, it plunges its arm downwards.

His head bashes against the concrete, as warm blood splashes all over the road.

A sickening crack echoes in the air.

Then, again.

And again.

Ghost can’t turn away as bits of bones, patches of skin, and chunks of muscles flay off the hero’s face with each slam.

Crack. Crack. Crack—

Its arm stops in the air, with Eraserhead’s face a single centimeter off the ground.

Blood and blobs of gray matter drip off his caved-in temple as an indigo aura surrounds him.

“You!” Shigaraki roars, whipping his head. “You’re ruining the game!”

The wind whips his face before Ghost sees it.

Kageyama stands in front of them, a blinding light surrounding his body as he stretches out his hand.

His eyes are no longer black, the color of blood tainting them instead. “Game? The lives of others are a game to you?”

Shigaraki roars with spite in his voice, “Nomu! Tear him apart!”

In the blink of an eye, the nomu appears right in front of Kageyama, smashing his face with a bloody fist.

Kageyama rises in the air like a shooting star.

The nomu is his burning trail.

With each fearsome punch, the nomu pushes him further into the air. 

The nomu raises its fist one more time, ready to deal the finishing blow.

But everything stops when a glowering Kageyama grabs its fist.

The coursing wind. The falling rubble. Even their bodies.

Everything yields to the power of Kageyama’s aura.

“What?! Let me go!” Shigaraki floats in the air, covered with that same aura.

Kurogiri whirls around in a beam of colors, shaking as if to regain control.

Ghost stumbles as his feet leave the ground, held in place by an invisible force.

Kageyama raises his hand.

His red eyes shine with emotions.

He drops his hand.

Everything else follows.

He falls.

Wind floods his ears as Ghost plunges downwards, colliding with the ground with a crash.

He loses his breath, his nerves lighting up with pain.

And he keeps losing it, as the heavy light pushes against his lungs, burying his body deeper into the ground.

A second later, another earthquake leaves his bone shaking.

He glances from the corner of his eye.

The nomu sinks into the ground like it’s quicksand.

"Fuck! Let me go!" Shigaraki trembles, enraged, as he spews curses at Kageyama's hovering figure.

But Kageyama looks down at them, fury boiling in his eyes.

"You hurt my teachers, my friends, and my classmates, and you expect me to let you go."

Ghost meets Kageyama's eyes.

If he blinks hard enough, he'll see a twisted caricature of a halo glowing behind Kageyama's head.

Something unholy lies behind Kageyama's eyes as he gazes at their sacrilegious bodies.

"I've never met anyone as bad as you. Hurting others for your amusement . . . " The light around him burns a little sharper. "It's . . . it's incorrigible."

"Shut the fuck up!" Shigaraki struggles against the light that binds him. "You don't see it. I'm the only one that sees it—The disgusting way everybody worships All-Might—he has to die!"

Kageyama's expression never changes from its impassive state. "Is that why you're here? Is that why you're destroying so many lives? Because you hate All-Might?"

"He needs to die!" Shigaraki's pupils are small red dots that bounce around his sclera. "When I see people crawling on their feet for him, giving him all their hopes and dreams, it makes me sick!"

His hands and fingers tremble, as if there's an itch he needs to scratch. "I want him dead. I want to see the chaos that erupts when I kill the symbol of peace."

Kageyama closes his eyes and the light ripples.

When he opens them, judgment clusters in his eyes.

"Killing others to ease some ill-defined feelings of discomfort . . . All you have is your hatred, and look where that led you. Following mindless motives to cover up your urge to destroy—you're like a child."

But Kageyama shakes his head, and the freezing air bites a little more. "I can’t reason with you."

His eyes blaze with contempt. “But I’ll make you understand the pain you put others through.”

He lights up like a star in the night sky.

And Shigaraki starts screaming.

Ghost shuffles around, stretching his neck forward against the hard light.

The bright colors pulse around Shigaraki, shaking his body as he wails.

It flares a hint brighter.

A crack reverberates.

Shigaraki's left arm is a mottled mess of bones, even as it's still stuck against the ground.

The realization hits him.

Kageyama is breaking all of Shigaraki's limbs.

The stone of emotions he buried bubbles up his stomach, leaving him to choke on feelings.

But when he stews too long, drowning in all the emotions he pressed down, he tastes it—

Guiltiness.

With the coat of guilt souring his tongue, Ghost bursts with anger.

What the fuck is wrong with himself?! 

Why is he feeling guilty over letting Shigaraki get hurt?!

He sowed what he reap! If he ends up a broken skeleton, then that's his problem!

But Ghost can't bear it; he can't bear to hear Shigaraki's screams and pretend he isn't affected.

If only Shigaraki was a little meaner, if only Ghost hated him a little more—

If only he wasn't the closest resemblance to a friend in the hell he calls a life.

"Nii-san!"

Kageyama whips around.

His focus veers to his brother and the classmate carrying Eraserhead's body.

Kageyama's brother says something, his lips moving—

The words don't matter. 

The hard light pressing against him loosens.

Ghost sees the well-placed distraction and seizes his chance.

"Nomu-1432AZ8!" His voice rips out of his throat, "Get him off us!"

The eyeless nomu, glued to the ground just like the rest of them, raises a shaky hand.

The world darkens.

The color blue bubbles around the peripheral of Ghost's vision.

A hulking portal opens in the air behind Kageyama, ushering in a mass protruding outwards.

An aggregation of silvery, herculean size boulders floats out of the portal.

Kageyama's eyes widen as the conglomeration emerges behind him.

The line of chrome boulders finally ends with a spiked tail that slithers out from the portal.

It's a monstrosity of a creation.

The boulder blinks open untamed eyes.

The monster opens its mouth, bringing forth a bright white beam that swallows Kageyama up.

Ghost shakes off the loose hold of his telekinesis, dashing out of the crater his body made.

Blue and white sparks reappear in the air, jagged and pointed, but he refuses to stop.

Vaulting over the rocky terrain, Ghost falls into a large, human-shaped ditch.

He gets a glimpse of the injured arm before he gets pushed back.

"Get off!" Shigaraki holds his arm, his face twisted with pain. "Fuck off!"

The earth shakes around them as Kageyama wrangles the beast.

Ghost tries to focus on the swelling state of Shigaraki's arm. "Shigaraki, you can't do anything with that injury— "

"Go away!" Tears pool in his eyes, and his breaths come out harsher. "It fucking hurts!"

"Shigaraki," He starts, "I'm going to stop the pain in a moment, but you have to fucking work with me."

He digs through his utility belt, setting up the shot of the chemical in record time.

There's supposed to be a formal method of injecting a numbing agent.

Instead, Ghost glances at the mess of an arm and jabs the needle straight into the muscle.

"Fuck!" Ghost manages to empty the needle out before Shigaraki decays it with his quirk. "What the hell did you just put in me?!"

"Shut up, it's a numbing agent. The pain should go away in about 90 seconds."

Ghost glances around until he spots the botched remains of Eraserhead's scarf on his arms.

How ironic.

He rips the remnants of the scarf, wrapping Shigaraki's arm with the fabric. "We need to consider a retreat."

"What?!" Shigaraki snatches his arm away, leaving it to hang by his body. "I'm not leaving until I kill that brat!"

"Take a fucking look around you! The moment Kageyama finishes with that monster, he'll be after us! We can't beat him!"

Shigaraki glances at the steel beast spinning in the air before shaking his head. "No fucking way. I'm not leaving until I see All-Might!"

Fury runs up and down Ghost's skin. "I should have left you to get squished!"

Damn him. 

Just . . . damn him!

He wants to leave him behind. 

He wants to run, and run, and run.

Away from the destruction he made. Away from the lives he ended. Away from the fact that the only person he can rely on—for better or for worse—is a fucking shithead of a human being.

But wherever Ghost goes, Sensei will always drag him back.

Fighting is the only option.

Ghost gulps down the anguish that comes with his existence.

He leans against a misplaced boulder.

He thinks.

"Okay . . . okay." He exhales. "Listen, Kageyama isn't our goal; All-Might is. We can't waste energy killing another target. Instead, let's take him out of the equation."

Shigaraki's eyes narrow. "A boss match with survival as its win conditions."

Ghost eyes Kageyama.

A chill runs up his spine as Kageyama tosses the roaring steel monster with his crushing aura.

"His power is inconceivable." Ghost whirls back around. "But his strategy is simple and his fighting skills are shit. We can do something with that."

Shigaraki gazes at Kageyama, his rage molding to something less ephemeral.

His eyes dart to the side.

A depraved smile sneaks onto his face.

"Look at that," Shigaraki nearly buzzes with excitement. "That tiny runt he calls a brother is still hanging around."

A cold sensation washes over Ghost.

He follows Shigaraki's gaze.

Kageyama's brother slinks around bulky boulders and giant glass shards.

The other student pulls at his arms, but the brother doesn't move.

He's too busy staring at Kageyama, his eyes wide and glassy.

Ghost swivels. "Whatever you're planning, we don't have to involve the kid."

But Shigaraki doesn’t listen. "Kurogiri and Nomu-56RF are AFK right now, but 1432AZ8 is still active. Even with that much power, 1432AZ8 can ambush the brat if he’s distracted enough . . . If killing that runt doesn't work, we'll have to use hit-and-run tactics—"

Ghost turns him around. "Listen to me. I'm not letting you kill his fucking brother."

Shigaraki meets his gaze, something dark unfurling in his eyes.

But Ghost has stared down the darkness too many times for Shigaraki to ever intimidate him.

Ghost refuses to lose this match.

It's the one match he can't lose.

Finally, Shigaraki narrows his eyes, something biting leaking into his voice. "You're not a villain, are you?"

It throws him off. 

Ghost ends up blinking first. "What? I'm—"

"Not like me or Kurogiri or Sensei. You're something else." Shigaraki doesn't look at him, turning to the raging battle unfolding. "I'll figure it out after I kill All-Might. For now, tell me your plan."

Ghost doesn't question the sudden change of heart.

It's a rickety, unstable shamble of a plan. "I-it’s a bad idea; getting him too angry without a way to utilize that anger. But we can adapt your plan. Nomu-1432AZ8 has an inter-dimensional quirk. We distract Kageyama and get 1432AZ8 to strike."

Ghost darts his eyes until he sees it. "You see that rotting building right at the edge of the Ruins Zone?"

Shigaraki looks back at the tilted crumbling building on its last legs. "You want me to topple it? How the fuck will that stop him?"

"We're not trying to stop him." Ghost tightens his utility belt. "From that building's vantage point, you'll see everything play out. When I give you the signal, have Kurogiri use his quirk."

He dashes off, ignoring Shigaraki's questions about the signal.

As he races across the ruins, his eyes stray toward the battle beside him.

The stone monster lets out a screech, its jagged mouth glowing before a bright light spews out.

Kageyama takes the hit head-on, face curled with anger as indigo surrounds him.

Ghost glances away and keeps moving.

Across the distance, Kageyama's brother watches the battle, his hand grazing his temple.

Ghost swallows his morals and pulls out his pistol.

He runs through the landscape, diving behind boulders and ducking behind half-crumpled walls.

He sneaks close, only a few feet behind him. 

But the other student turns around, his feathers ruffling as shock rushes to his eyes.

"Kage—"

Not a chance in hell.

He flips his gun into his palm and pistol-whips the student with it.

"Tokoyami!" Kageyama's brother lights up with his own aura, a deeper and more vibrant color.

He only has one chance at this.

Despite his guilty soul, Ghost sends a hopeless prayer up to every entity he knows.

He tackles the kid in front of him.

Sprawling limbs scratch at his arms but Ghost doesn't stop, pulling him into a headlock.

He's trying to claw his arms off when Ghost thumps his head with his pistol. "Stop moving before I make you."

"Get off me!" Spite lines his words as he struggles.

Ghost taps the boy's head with his gun. "Are you listening to me? Do you want your brother to see you die?"

He stops.

For a second, even the sound of his breathing disappears.

". . . Whatever you're trying to do," Kageyama's brother huffs. "Give it up. Nii-san . . . the thing inside Nii-san . . . he'll destroy you."

Ghost pulls him up with one arm. "That doesn't scare me. Move it."

Now, if Shigaraki was listening to him ...

Ghost takes a step back—

The air whooshes behind his ears—

—And they end up on top of a ravaged five-story building.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" Shigaraki scratches a storm up his neck.

He can't see the expression on Kageyama's brother's face, but he feels him stiffen.

Kurogiri buzzes at the edges, the metal brace floating around his neck cracked in the middle.

The makeshift sling around Shigaraki's arm hangs loose on the limb.

They can’t drag this out any longer.

"Fulfilling the win condition." Ghost ignores the blood swishing in his mouth. "If we need Kageyama distracted, a hostage situation is our best bet. Let's end this."

Kageyama's brother starts to shift in his hold. "You don't know what you're doing! If you hurt me in front of my brother, he'll-he'll—"

"The boy is coming." Kurogiri's voice is cold as Kageyama lifts the stone monster up in the air.

Flaring black hair and hallowed eyes look down, taking in the sight of them.

Red pupils shrink to almost nothing.

"Kageyama!" Ghost pushes the gun right against his brother's head.

The pressure around them builds and builds and builds—

Ghost pushes himself off the roof, dragging the kid down with him.

"RITSU—"

Ghost swivels his head, the wind whipping against his face. "Shigaraki, decay it! Now!"

The building explodes in a shower of glass and concrete.

Ghost falls and falls and falls.

Kageyama's brother struggles against his grip, "What are you doing?!"

A purple aura starts to surround them.

Ghost tightens his grip on his gun, his mind racing.

He didn’t think of what to do if Kageyama’s brother uses his own powers.

He only has a second to act, a second to stop him—

The air screeches around them.

Kageyama’s brother stops moving.

They stop falling.

They—

                    stop—

falling.

All of the colors of the light disappear.

They melt off in broken shards, as something black pulses in their place.

The air in Ghost’s throat thins.

His head buzzes.

His skin itches.

His heart throws itself against his ribs, hashing the cavity of his chest until there’s nothing left.

Then, it appears.

A demon emerges from the darkness.

Pitch-black shadows weave across its body as it bursts through the hovering rubble.

There is no Kageyama.

Instead, something floats in his place.

Inconceivable. Incomprehensible. Incogitable.

A living nightmare that leaves the atoms of their existence trembling in its wake.

Ghost looks the thing in its eyes.

In another life, the sight of it would have killed his frail body on the spot.

In this life, he pulls the whimpering body of Kageyama's brother to his chest and whispers, "Come and get me."

It comes.

It rushes forward.

It stretches its limbs.

Ghost's vision fills with black and white.

He doesn't move, even when it's a hairbreadth away.

Even when it's close enough to disintegrate every single cell of his body—

"Nomu!"

Ghost blinks.

He opens his eyes to blue.

An enormous, bubbling portal fizzes in front of him.

The monster of a human has disappeared.

Suddenly—

                    Everything—

Moves. 

The air rushes. 

The wind gushes.

The debris of a five-story building plunges forward, spilling into the blue portal.

The aura releases its hold on him, and Ghost falls.

He falls.

He falls.

He falls—

Falling through Kurogiri's portal—

He lands on his side, his nerves sparking up with pain.

He opens one eye.

Shigaraki stands beside him, his eyes trained on the blue portal still bubbling in the air.

“. . . we won.” A hysterical glee spreads over Shigaraki’s face. “We won! We fucking won!”

Shigaraki pumps his fist in the air, cackling as Nomu-1432AZ8 and Kurogiri watch.

Ghost relaxes, only to flinch when he realizes he’s still holding Kageyama’s brother.

Ghost looks down.

The boy passed out.

His face is placid, even with the scratches on his face.

It’s too familiar.

Ghost places his body on the ground, gazing up at Shigaraki as he finishes his revelry.

“We got that brat and Eraserhead in one swoop!” He points at him, a smirk sneaking in between those taxidermied hands. “I told you! I told you all we needed were two nomus!”

Ghost looks between Kurogiri’s cracked brace and Shigaraki’s unraveling sling.

He sighs.

“We got lucky. Besides, we lost track of Eraserhead and All-Might still isn’t here.” Ghost struggles to stand, his body heavier than it was a few minutes ago. “It’s time we cut our losses and leave.”

But he ends up wobbling as Shigaraki slaps the back of his head with four fingers. “Grow a fucking spine! We have enough time to kill some more brats! Don’t you remember? Sensei said you gotta murk those kids you let escape last time.”

As if Ghost could ever forget such an order.

If he's lucky, the original blast weakened his targets.

Ghost sighs.

Even on the best of days, his luck is abysmal.

Shigaraki motions over to Kurogiri. “Go fuck up those little shits. I don’t wanna see you until at least ten of them are dead.”

“As you wish.” Kurogiri disappears in a swirl of purple smoke.

While Shigaraki plots a storm, Ghost stares up at the portal that swallowed Kageyama.

It’s still active.

“Shigaraki,” a chill scrambles up Ghost’s skin, “How long do Nomu-1432AZ8’s portals last?”

“Huh? How the fuck should I know? Last time, a shitton of portals opened and started fucking things up. It’s annoying but maybe some stupid hero brats will fall into them.”

The urge to shake Shigaraki nearly consumes Ghost.

The problem isn’t the hero brats that might fall into the portals.

The problem is the fucking abomination of a hero brat that might fall out of the portals.

Yet, Shigaraki turns his head to gaze at the decimated zone beyond them and smiles.

“Look at that stone monster! Let’s grab that brat’s brother and feed him to it!”

Ghost rubs the edge of his gas mask, tempted to pull it up so he can pinch the bridge of his nose.

He turns to look at Kageyama’s brother.

His body is missing from the ground.

He’s gone.

“He’s gone.” Ghost repeats it out loud.

“What?” Shigaraki narrows his eyes, even as Ghost’s heart pounds out of his chest. “How the hell do you lose a body?”

“He wasn’t dead,” But he was unconscious and nowhere close to waking up.

Something else got to him.

Someone that could sneak behind him, Shigaraki, a nomu—

Golden eyes flash in his mind.

He whips his head, “Shigaraki, watch out!”

The wind hits him.

It’s a crushing storm that sweeps him off his feet.

He flies through the air, crumpled like a paper doll in a hurricane.

A muscled arm wraps around his waist.

Ghost looks up to see the eyeless face of Nomu-1432AZ8 holding him.

It takes every ounce of energy to keep his heart in his chest.

They drop to the ground, the earth cracking from the impact.

The nomu pulls Shigaraki out from the sky a second later, dropping him right beside him.

“Who the fuck . . .” Shigaraki’s eyes bounce as he claws his neck, “Who the fuck would attack us?!”

A figure floats downwards.

Ghost stares.

Aang stares back.

“Another hero brat . . . of course.” Shigaraki cracks his free hand. “Let’s make it a match, Ghost. Whoever kills the most brats gets to hog the couch tomorrow!”

Ghost doesn’t move.

Aang still stares at him.

He can’t read that expression on his face.

He doesn’t want to.

Rage boils in his blood as he looks at him with those indecipherable eyes.

He can’t help it; the rolling anger that curls in his chest has him shouting across the ruins, “Do you still want to help me?!”

Aang takes a deep breath, closing his eyes.

“I know you don’t care, but I faced enemies that have nearly killed me with a smile on their faces.”

Aang’s eyes are still closed, but his mouth shakes.

“But even them … even she wouldn’t do this!”

Ghost doesn’t move.

“I don’t know what to do.” Aang’s voice cracks. “None of the avatars can help me. It’s the same choice all over again! To kill or be killed—I shouldn’t have said anything to you! You didn’t listen and this is how much blood you spilled just to prove me wrong!”

He opens his eyes.

“Despite your existence, I still believe every life has value.” He burns with an unmatchable resolve. “If I don’t, I won’t have anything left.”

Shigaraki opens his mouth, his eyes narrowing. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“It doesn’t matter to you anyways. You want a fight.” Aang shifts into a stance. “I’ll take you on.”

Shigaraki’s smile returns, ten times as wide and a thousand times more malicious. “Nomu-56RF!”

The hulking monster crawls out of the crater Kageyama had pushed it into.

Aang turns his gaze to the monster, his face indecipherable.

Nomu-56RF stands, veins hulking out its muscles as it exhales.

Ghost blinks.

Aang’s hands are shaking.

“Kill him!” Shigaraki screeches.

Nomu-56RF takes off, stretching its arms as it aims for Aang.

The nomu’s claws glisters, an inch away from his face.

Aang stomps his foot, launching Nomu-56RF with a column of earth.

“Fuck. Another cheat code.” Shigaraki growls as Aang shoots up into the air, chasing after the nomu.

Ghost adjusts his mask and turns around. 

“Huh? Where are you going?”

“He was distracting us.” Ghost glances at his gun, making sure it can still fire. “I’m going to deal with the other threat.”

He pauses. "Whatever you do, don't use Nomu-1432AZ8. We might end up creating the portal Kageyama fell into."

He rushes off, leaving Shigaraki to yell in the wind.

Ghost runs through the Ruins Zone. 

He refuses to glance at the clashing battle between Aang and Nomu-56RF.

He taps the side of his gas mask, switching his vision from color to heat vision.

With all the rubble around them, they couldn’t have gotten far.

He’ll find him.

He eyes the path before him, the fountain in the central plaza appearing dull in gray-scale vision.

He sees a dimmed red mass lying horizontally.

That must be Kageyama's brother.

Then, the other dark red mass carrying him is . . . 

Ghost slows down.

He pulls out his gun and shoots.

It rips through the edge of the red figure, stopping it in its tracks.

“That was a warning shot.” Ghost announces to the supposedly empty air.

The figure pauses, standing still enough to be mistaken for an image.

Finally, the figure ripples, its darkish-red color blurring.

Ghost switches his heat vision off.

The ghost boy from before stands in front of him, holding Kageyama’s brother in his arms.

There’s a rip in his uniform from where the bullet grazed him.

Ghost closes the space between them, walking forward until they’re only a few feet away.

The ghost boy—Hanako—narrows his eyes. “You can see me when I’m invisible.”

Ghost points to his gas mask. “After our last encounter, I installed heat vision on them. I took a gamble that you still emit heat even when you turn intangible. I can’t stop you from phasing, but I won’t lose sight of you. Not anymore.”

Hanako doesn’t react, his face stoic even as his eyes glaze over.

The fountain fills the air between them, its rushing waters occupying the silence.

Hanako lifts his head, something burning in his eyes. “Is Kageyama dead?”

“I don’t know. He fell into one of those blue portals.” Ghost answers. 

Hanako tsks.

“I should be by Yashiro’s side . . . “ Hanako shakes, his voice low yet brimming with emotions. “But I’ll never forgive myself if I let my friend die to the likes of you!” 

Hanako kneels down, laying Kageyama’s brother against the fountain. 

Ghost bites the inside of his cheek. 

“I wasn’t going to kill him.” He’s not sure who he’s trying to convince.

“Really?” Hanako stands back up, raising his brows. “Did you plan to save him then? Wait for him to wake up so you can explain that you may have killed his brother? How thoughtful.”

“I never said I was a good guy—”

“You’re not. You’re not a proper villain either. I agree with Aang on that.” Hanako stretches out his hand.

A will-o-wisp appears in the air, swirling until it hovers right above his fingers.

“Go help Yashiro,” He commands and the will-o-wisp flies off.

Another will-o-wisp materializes, and Hanako lets it hover around him.

“I saw that trap with Bakugou play out. Regardless of the coercion you’re under, you wanted him dead and you soaked your hands with blood to do it.” His golden eyes pin him down.

It doesn’t feel like the words are coming from his mouth when Ghost says, “People were going to die no matter what I did. He might as well join the eventual body count.”

“Did it feel good?” The will-o-wisp in Hanako’s hand glows. “Did it feel good when you killed him?”

Ghost feels nothing.

Hanako lets out a dry laugh anyways. “That’s what I thought.”

The will-o-wisp spins around him.

The blue and white uniform swirls into an umber gakuran with a shimmering cape that billows in the wind.

A steel knife lands in Hanako’s left hand.

Blood stains the surface of the metal.

Ghost pulls out his pistol and reloads it. “I have orders to kill you.”

A polite smile stains Hanako’s face. “Because you saw me? If you’re going after me, then you’re after Aang and Yashiro as well.”

Ghost doesn't reply.

“They’re important friends of mine. I’m not supposed to hurt any humans but I suppose my usual tactics won’t work here.” Hanako sighs, adjusting the grip of his knife. “It’s hard having friends. Suddenly, things like atonement and forgiveness don’t matter as much as they should.”

Ghost raises his guard, cautious of the boy’s unusual behavior. “You can always walk away—”

—Something slices through the air—

—Ghost swerves to the right.

He whips his head back.

The thrown knife burrows halfway into the base of the fountain.

Ghost’s eyes dart downwards.

A freshly-made slash cuts through the metal of his gas mask.

A sudden gust blows through the tension-filled air.

It stings the surface wound on his cheek.

With darkness swirling in his irises, Hanako materializes another blood-stained knife.

Ghost huffs and switches the heat vision back on.

“You think you’re the only one that has people they care about?” Ghost raises his gun. “I have too much on the line to let you kill me!”

Ghost rushes forward, his reflection shining in Hanako’s knife.

It's quiet.

Too quiet.

It's so quiet that the silence between them is just as loud.

Gohan fumbles with the jacket of his school uniform.

He's sitting in a small, brown chair in the principal's office.

The windows reveal the deep blue sky and the bright green school lawn.

Bright, happy posters garnish the warm-colored walls, livening the office.

He should be fine.

After all, this is only a visit to the principal about his vision. 

He had asked Ritsu, Katara, and the others about their experiences with the principal.

They said it was fine.

A little unorthodox.

But fine.

So, Gohan should be fine too.

Yet, something about the air puts him on edge, raising the hair on his skin.

Maybe it's from the beady stare of the principal as he sits across from him.

Or maybe it's from the pensive glance that All-Might gives him.

The tension in the quiet office squeezes around him like a wrench, an invisible danger that only he is privy to.

"Gohan," The principal pushes a cup on the large brown desk towards him, "Would you like a cup of tea? It works wonders in calming nerves."

He shakes his head, the sound vibrating in the too-quiet office.

And it's too quiet.

It's the type of silence that burrows into your head.

It's the type of silence that rings and rings like a gong made to torture.

It's the type of silence that bounces against the four office walls, making it smaller and smaller.

The silence curls around his neck.

The silence is a cruel clamp that cuts off his voice and mocks him for it.

The silence is too much.

Gohan dares to lift his eyes from the jacket on his lap.

The principal's index finger curls against the handle of the porcelain tea cup.

It clinks.

It's unbearable.

"Um . . ." Gohan resists the urge to shrink when the principal and All-Might's stare lands on him. ". . . Am I … um … in trouble?"

"Of course not, Young Gohan!" All-Might's voice booms through the small office, rattling the walls and shaking his bones.

But then, he reels back and says in a quieter voice, "Nedzu and I just wanted to clear any misunderstandings with you."

It doesn't help the shot of adrenaline that floods his veins.

Misunderstandings? 

Did he do something wrong?

The principal drops his teacup on the desk, the slight thud echoing in the office. "I was recovering the footage from the hero combat trials when I noticed something . . . irregular."

The principal looks up from his tea, resting his somber gaze on Gohan.

It's too intense!

He can't manage the heavy eye contact.

He looks down at his jacket instead.

So, he doesn't see the principal's face when he asks, "Gohan, can you tell us what was going on in your mind during that fight?"

Gohan's mouth twists.

They're mad at him. They have to be.

He pulls the gray thread in the seam of his jacket out, still unable to meet their gazes. "Um . . . I don't know . . . everything was foggy . . ."

It didn't help that Mob had reflected his emotions onto him—though he should have withstood it. 

It had boiled his mind in an unnameable turmoil, leaving most of his memory of the fight a patchwork of emotions.

Regardless . . .

He has to apologize.

It's the only way to clear the tension swirling in the tiny office.

He lowers his head. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry I destroyed all those buildings! I'm sorry I hurt you too, All-Might! Tossing so much of my strength around—I-It was stupid!"

He knows better.

But All-Might waves him off. "You have nothing to apologize for, Young Gohan! I was the teacher responsible for that match. I should have never put you in such a position—"

"That being said," The principal cuts in, "Can you tell me what you mean by that? 'Tossing so much of your strength?'"

Gohan blinks, looking up.

But the principal's stare is heavy and unrevealing.

"I-I'm sorry. I . . . I wasn't thinking." Gohan's gaze drops to the floor, with his foot kicking at the invisible dust on the tiles. "I took things too far."

Guilt writhes in his chest, burning him from the inside out.

It could have gone much worse if Kou hadn't gotten him out of that state.

It could have gone so much worse.

"Are you saying you didn't restrain yourself enough for that match?" The principal's voice is full of emotions Gohan can't hope to decipher.

It's enough to wedge that pit of guilt deeper into his chest.

Gohan wrings his jacket. "I'm sorry."

The silence returns with a vengeance, accusing and merciless.

Yet, the principal interrupts it soon enough.

"Gohan. You don't have to apologize. You haven’t done anything wrong. If you don't mind . . . I would like to know how much of your strength you were using in that battle."

The urgency in his voice compels Gohan to look up. 

All-Might and the principal share the same weighty gaze.

His lips twist. "Um . . . I don't know . . . less than a quarter."

A sudden curtain of darkness falls on their faces. 

He did something wrong!

He reels back. "I'm sorry! I shouldn't have used so much!"

But nothing can assuage the unease that steeps into his skin. 

The room falls into a devastating round of silence.

All-Might looks a thousand times older, somber shadows sculpting his face into a statue dedicated to trepidation. "Young Gohan . . ."

"What a revelation." The principal sighs, his fur drooping as if a sudden burden had drenched itself all over him. "It seems we might have been underestimating you . . ."

He doesn't understand what's going on.

Gohan can't reply.

He rips the threads out of the seams of his jacket.

His tail swings between the legs of his chair.

He twists his fingers left and right.

There's something he's not getting.

A horrifying spirit haunting the conversation.

All the sirens in his head blare loud yet hazy warnings.

The office's walls squeeze inwards, almost as if they're closing in on him.

His breath gets caught in his throat.

His heart pounds and pounds and pounds.

Despite the tranquil office, despite sitting next to All-Might and the principal, despite the fact that the day should be fine—

Gohan can't rid himself of the voice that screams danger in his head. 

But even with his ki flaring, he can't find the threat.

He can't find it.

He can't find it.

He can't—

             find—

                        the—

Danger.

The world shifts to the left.

A sudden surge of power hits Gohan.

He's swept under the wave, the ripples of energy coalescing and folding over itself.

But the storm leaves a familiar tinge over him.

The whorls of the emotions, the taste of the vicious power, the absoluteness that scraps at his soul—

This is from Mob.

And just like that—

the world—

                    shifts—

Back.

Gohan shakes his head, ridding himself of the sticky grip of Mob's energy, and looks around the room.

The principal sits straight in his chair, stiff and cautious.

"I'm not wrong to assume everyone felt that sensation." He says as he glances at All-Might. 

All-Might stands tall, his tense body towering in the office as he narrows his eyes. "To exert that much power . . . What kind of quirk would cause that?!"

But the realization is starting to sink in.

"It's Mob." All the dread from before rushes back. "His energy feels like that!"

But it's not entirely true.

The energy he sensed is sharper and caustic. 

It churns with pungent emotions that discolor Mob's aura.

It's different.

Too different for a simple field trip.

Adrenaline curdles the blood in his veins until Gohan can't see anything but red. "Mob wouldn't use that much of his power, not unless he had to! He's in danger!"

And if Mob's in danger . . . 

The lives of the whole class are at stake.

He has to protect them.

All-Might and the principal's voices intertwine.

It's a discordant sound that scratches at his eardrums.

"Gohan, how can you feel Kageyama's energy—"

"Young Gohan, tell us what you feel—"

He doesn't have time for this! 

He has to find and save his friends!

The energy that flows through him—his ki—ripples under his skin.

He takes off, his energy pushing him into the air.

Voices blur around him, but Gohan can't stop, not when something—someone—could be hurting the class.

But his focus crashes.

Mob's aura vanishes from his senses.

He pauses, floating in the air as he tries to feel around for Mob's ki.

But it's gone.

Completely gone.

That shouldn't happen though! 

Not unless he died—

No, he won't believe it!

He stretches his senses, searching through the energies scattered around him—

The soft, gossamer sensation of Nene's ki wafts around him.

Even with how weak it is, it's distinct enough to follow.

But something is off—

He freezes.

Nene's ki is fading.

The world turns hazy.

The memory ambushes him.

The memory of his father giving him a warm smile—the last smile he'll ever give—right before he died.

Nene's ki sparks, desperate to stay alive.

A little bit of Gohan's restraint melts away.

He lets power pour through his veins, racing through the air as he follows the evaporating traces of Nene's ki.

Failing isn't an option.

He's the only one that can save his friends.

The strongest out of them all.

Chapter Text

Old ticking clocks, creaky rocking chairs, and swishing curtains surround him. 

The air is warm and dry, accentuating the ambiance of the aged kitchen. 

Every few seconds, a groan flies out from the living room, heavy and eerie. 

It sounds like someone is on the throes of death. 

The reality isn't as dramatic. 

Hanazawa Teruki sighs, leaning against a wall with his arms folded. 

This has to be the most boring exorcism mission yet. 

As he wanders over to the living room, he makes it right on time to see their client swat Mr. Reigen with her purse. 

"Ow! Ow, ouch, ouch!" Mr. Reigen rubs the back of his head and yelps. 

Shooting not-so-subtle glares at their regular client, he yells, "Was there a reason for that?!" 

Hamada Shiori, otherwise called Hamada-san, swings her dusty purse back to her side. "Next time, use those young ears of yours to listen when I tell you to be careful!" 

Hamada-san is a spiteful geriatric that hates the world and everyone in it. 

She has wispy-white hair that is eternally tied into a bun. Her face sags with wrinkles and leathery skin that welcomes her ever-present frown. Animosity and disappointment are frequent guests that swirl in her gray eyes. 

She spends her post-retirement life torturing confused customers as a call center representative.

When she’s not doing that, Hamada-san likes to hire Mr. Reigen to exorcize the spirits of 'her enemies' haunting her. 

Not that those spirits have ever existed. 

It's more of an excuse to get him to do hard labor for her. 

Right now, Hamada-san tsks by Mr. Reigen's side, the scowl on her face deepening her wrinkles. 

Beads of sweat roll down Mr. Reigen's face as he tries to catch his breath. 

It’s almost ridiculous how much work is being put into moving a table. 

"That table is a priceless antique that my family has passed down for generations." Hamada-san sneers. "Why are you carrying it like a purposeless drunk?" 

A half-bitter, half-unbelieving smile curls on Mr. Reigen's face. "Hamada-san, don’t forget that you asked me to carry it . . . " 

Hamada-san had hired Mr. Reigen today because her dining table was squeaking. 

This was a clear sign that the spirit of her mother-in-law had possessed it to torture her (or so she claims). 

Her 'mother-in-law' told Hamada-san that she would only leave her be on one condition. 

If someone moved her table over to the balcony. 

Hence why he and Mr. Reigen are here. 

This would have been so much simpler if he could use his powers. 

But Hamada-san had claimed that his telekinetic quirk would make her mother-in-law stronger. 

Teru glances at the corner of the apartment, where Dimple is floating about. 

The ugly green ghost laughs at him. “Ha, having fun, yet?” 

He's getting a little too cocky for Teru's taste. "Why don't you come down that corner and I'll show you something fun?" 

"Yeesh," Dimple flies a little closer to the roof. "No thanks. I enjoy living." 

“Drop it right there. Carefully . . . Carefully . . . Watch it!” 

Mr. Reigen lowers the table to the ground and sighs. “Alright, Hamada-san. The spirit—” 

“My mother-in-law.” Hamada-san interrupts. 

Mr. Reigen pauses, his face scrunching up for a second. 

A second later, he shakes his head and smiles. “Yes, your mother-in-law’s spirit should disappear now that the table is on the balcony.” 

Hamada-san takes a minute to walk away, examining the wooden table for made-up spirits. 

She folds her arms and nods. “Hmph, the table looks good here, and that wench is definitely gone. It seems you are useful for once.” 

Mr. Reigen smiles. “If you’re satisfied, then maybe we should discuss your payment options.” 

The smug look on Hamada-san’s face wipes off. 

She rubs the back of her neck, looking away from them. “ . . . Can you put it on my tab?” 

The smile on Mr. Reigen’s face grows wider. “Hamada-san, this would be the fifteenth exorcism on your tab. At this point, your total is reaching up to the thousands.” 

Hamada-san grimaces, strands of her wispy white hair flaring. “You wouldn’t charge a frail old lady, would you?” 

Like a devil on his shoulder, Dimple floats closer to Mr. Reigen and whispers. “You should charge her double.” 

Yet, Mr. Reigen waves Dimple off, turning back to Hamada-san. “Don't worry, Hamada-san. We can negotiate your payment.” 

Teru squints at him. 

Mr. Reigen said this last time. 

But last time, he left her apartment with a lint roller and a half-eaten dish of curry as payment. 

The curry may have been delicious but it can't pay for their rent. 

Mr. Reigen is well within his rights to demand Hamada-san starts paying, but he always ends up letting her go. 

It’s confusing, especially since Hamada-san never changes her attitude. 

But when Teru asked him, Mr. Reigen had said he was too nice to let her do all the exorcism (read: heavy lifting) by herself. 

Teru feels his nose scrunch up. 

He doesn’t exactly get it, but it seems like the kind of behavior that Kageyama would approve of, with how good he is. 

Teru huffs at the thought of letting a stranger walk all over him as Kageyama gives him a thumbs-up in the distance. 

Being a good person is such hard work. 

“Oí! Hanazawa!” Mr. Reigen calls him, walking into the living room with a sweater he was definitely not wearing before. “Hamada-san and I are still discussing payment options but you can go ahead and start leaving if you want.” 

Teru glances down at the (plain) baby-blue sweater Mr. Reigen is wearing. “Sir . . .” 

“Oh, this?” Mr. Reigen follows his gaze as he pulls the sweater out. “It’s one of the payments we agreed on. Did you know Hamada-san used to be a seamstress? Unfortunately, her past employer didn’t appreciate her . . . erm . . . outlook on life.” 

That’s one way of describing the misery Hamada-san brings. 

Looking around for any signs of the old hag, Mr. Reigen lowers his voice to a whisper. “I’ve been bringing up subtle hints about our kitchen situation. We might get some good curry for dinner if we play our cards right.” 

The kitchen situation Mr. Reigen is referring to is the fact that they have no money for food. 

"That's good!" Hamada-san's soul might be dead and rotting but her cooking is full of life. 

There are only so many times Teru can eat instant ramen for breakfast. 

But at the same time, as Mr. Reigen gives him a thumbs-up, Teru wonders for the umpteenth time if he’s imposing on him. 

Mr. Reigen already handles the food, the rent, and all the paperwork the state throws at him. 

Teru should put more effort into helping with exorcisms. 

Or he should work more to help pay for the rent. 

Or maybe he should distance himself a bit so Mr. Reigen wouldn’t get tired of him hanging around all the time— 

A warm hand drops on his head. 

“I’m starting to recognize that look on your face. It’s one of your ‘I’m overthinking things’ look, isn’t it?” Mr. Reigen gives him a smile. 

Teru’s not quite sure how to respond to that. 

Even so, Mr. Reigen ruffles his short hair. “Go ahead and help Red and his friends with whatever secret mission they got. I’ll handle things here, and we’ll have a nice dinner with all the others later.” 

“And I’ll make sure he doesn’t throw out his back here!” Dimple flies next to them, giving him a thumbs-up. 

“I’m not that old!” Mr. Reigen says, swatting at Dimple. 

He withdraws his hand. 

Teru, though he’ll never admit it out loud, wishes Mr. Reigen would have lingered a little longer. 

Instead, he heads over to the roof, jumping and flying through the skies. 

The wind ruffles his hair and clothes as he rises high in the air. 

He hides his flight behind huge lumps of clouds in case any nosy hero decides to look up. 

The sun beams bright and Teru swerves around the rays, his body feeling lighter and freer. 

In his world, Teru wouldn’t use his powers so carelessly. 

There were too many lingering CLAW ESPers with a grudge against him and civilians to worry about. 

But here . . . 

Teru resists the urge to whoop as he whirls through the air, spooking some birds flying next to him. 

Something about this world has Teru loosening his previous restraints. 

For a moment, Teru feels the slightest urge to drop by at U.A, maybe surprise Kageyama and give Ritsu a heart attack. 

But Teru shakes the urge off. 

Kageyama and his classmates are on a field trip today and he doesn’t have the time to track them down. 

Instead, Teru focuses on making the one-hour telekinetic flight to the Chiba prefecture. 

Teru makes it to the meeting location right on time. 

Glass skyscrapers and noisy roads transition to soft beaches and rolling dirt hills. 

Isumi is a quiet town on the eastern coast of Japan. 

An area untouched by the madness of quirk politics (or at least that’s what Wicopedia had said). 

Teru lowers himself to the ground, his eyes roaming over the food stalls at the marketplace he landed. 

It’s right at the edge of the street, where all the noise and bustling activity has settled down, that Teru sees them. 

“Hana-chaaaannnnn!” 

Toga waves him over, dressed in a ratty black and brown sweater that hides her frame. 

She hangs off Red’s shoulder, her smile wide enough to show off her fangs. “We’re over here!” 

Teru winces, but hides it easily enough as he strolls over to them. “Toga, it’s nice seeing you. I’m not sure if you know, but people usually call me Teru for short.” 

Toga stares at him for a second, with one arm linked around Red’s and her other arm carrying Red’s mouse. 

“That’s boring.” She sticks her tongue out at him. “I like Hana-chan better.” 

A nerve pulses on the side of Teru’s forehead but he smiles through it. “Ha, ha . . . great . . .” 

“Apart from that,” Red squeezes into the conversation, “I’m glad you came, Hanazawa! I think this place could be the hideout.” 

Red wears the same jacket and cap combination he always wears, paired with tattered jeans and sneakers only a hoarder would hang onto. 

It seems like he and Mr. Reigen aren’t the only ones with money problems. 

Teru folds his arms. “I’m not sure why you bothered coming to this location. A mastermind villain wouldn’t set up a hideout in a small oceanside town.” 

Red hums, turning his head to look over at the landscape of the beach set behind them. 

The cool breeze ruffles the small tufts of hair that peek out from Red’s hat. “I don’t know, I got a gut feeling about it.” 

A gut feeling? 

Teru glances back at Toga, only to see that she’s just as confused as he is. 

But Red doesn’t explain his feelings on the matter. 

Instead, he leads them over to an aged staircase crafted from stone. 

“I told Dabi and the others to meet us down at O'Hara beach. Toga and I took the scenic route, so Dabi might already be there.” Red explains as he strolls down the stone steps. “Despite everything going on, it’s kinda nice to leave the city. I was starting to feel cramped.” 

Teru frowns. Is this really what they should talk about right before they explore a deadly hideout? 

But the thoughts scramble away from his mind as he takes in the sight before him. 

Dabi stands at the shore of the empty beach, with only the whirling waves and rumbling breeze as company. 

The ocean waves brush up at the edge of his heavy dark trench coat, intensifying the color. 

The water laps at his ankles, leaving white bubbly foam that curdles on his skin. 

It seems incompatible that a ticking time bomb like Dabi could exist in such a peaceful scene. 

But Red doesn’t bother to contemplate the paradoxical scenery. 

Instead, he lets out a snicker before kicking his sneakers off and racing off in the sand. 

“Sneak attack—oof!” Red huffs as Dabi puts him into a headlock. 

Up close, Teru can see the grimace on Dabi’s face as he tightens his hold. “You’re so fucking annoying.” 

“You’re sulking at the beach! That’s not what it was made for!” Red struggles in his grip. “Smile!” 

Dabi’s scowl darkens. “Go to hell.” 

A second later, Dabi dunks Red’s head into the ocean. 

Red takes that as a declaration of war, as he leaps out of the water, swinging his arms to splash Dabi. 

“Cut that shit out!” Dabi dodges Red’s splashes. “You’re gonna get my staples infected!” 

But Red laughs away, aiming his watery attacks at Dabi’s legs. “Don’t be a sore loser!” 

Teru folds his arms, watching the scene unfold. 

Something squirms in his chest. 

He glances out of the corner of his eye. 

Toga’s face twists with a vicious pout even as she holds Red’s mouse in her arms. 

“Stupid Reddie . . .” She mumbles, her brows furrowing deeper as she watches them. “When did he get all buddy-buddy with Dabi . . . ?” 

It’s a little bit horrifying that Teru shares similar feelings. 

“I thought this was a mission.” He sighs. “Red doesn’t seem like the type of guy to goof off when he’s dealing with something serious.” 

That statement steers Toga’s ire over to him, as she twists around. “Reddie’s super serious! When we were coming here, he was worrying a lot. Even for your dumb friends at that hero school!” 

But the frown slips off her face, revealing the downcast tint of her eyes. “But once he got here, he started to cheer up again. I dunno . . . it’s like . . . since he couldn't do anything about it, he ran out of energy to worry.” 

Teru darts his eyes. 

Red tries to pounce on Dabi, only to end up face-planting against the sand. 

Teru closes his eyes and sighs. 

Maybe people from his dimension are weird like that. 

But Toga watches the scene with a laser-like focus. 

She bites her lips hard enough to leave a bloody trail around her mouth. 

The energy radiating off her is antsy enough to agitate Red’s mouse, leaving it buzzing in her arms. 

Teru doesn’t want to talk to Toga when she’s having one of her moments, but at this point, Red's mouse might shock her. 

It’s better to be blunt. “You should probably calm down.” 

“Shut up,” Toga’s sharp eyes land on him. “I hate when Reddie does something and I don’t get it. I can’t be him if I don’t get him!” 

Wait. Toga said something about this when they first met. 

Something about slicing Red open and drinking all his blood. 

Teru might have underestimated how much her quirk influences her. 

“. . . Do you really think you can—how did you put it again—‘become’ Red?” 

Toga shakes her head hard enough for her hair buns to bounce. 

“Why would you do that anyway?” 

“Because I like him!” 

“That doesn’t answer my question.” Teru can’t help the frown that crawls on his face. “Is this some kind of girl thing?” 

“Dummy.” Toga huffs. “Have you ever liked anyone?” 

“Like someone?” 

“Yeah!” She whooshes around, her smile curling. “It’s a good feeling!” 

“Sometimes, you like someone so much—everything about them is so amazing! Everything they do is amazing!” 

“You see them and your heart pumps out of your chest—you can hear it going and going and going!” 

“You like everything they do and you like everything they are—and you want to be like them too! Liking them and being them and being them and liking them—“ 

“—Haven’t you felt anything like that?!” 

Sometimes. 

Sometimes, Teru thinks Kageyama is a little plain, with that bowl-haircut and dark eyes. 

Other times, Kageyama does something so amazing that Teru didn’t even think was possible— 

Teru thinks Kageyama is incredible. 

Sometimes, Teru looks at Kageyama and thinks that he would do anything to be like hi— 

Teru blinks. 

Toga is still standing in front of him. 

Her smile is all wide and her eyes are all big and she huffs and heaves and puffs so loud. 

She's louder than the sounds of the ocean waves crashing against the shore. 

It’s too much. 

He backtracks. 

He shakes his head. “I‘ve never felt that. It must be a ‘you’ thing then.” 

The half-euphoric look on Toga’s face falls immediately, replaced with a sneer instead. “You’re so boring, Hana-chan.” 

The urge to scowl bubbles up but Teru pushes it down. 

If the alternative is becoming like her— 

It’s better he stays boring. 

The wind around them starts to pick up, the sand rising in the air. 

Teru follows the sounds of feathers fluttering and looks up at the sky. 

The number three hero in Japan flaps giant crimson-red wings above them. 

He floats high up, hovering as the sun shines a glowing halo behind his back. 

“Hey! I hope I’m not too late to the party!” Hawks’ voice is awfully cheerful. 

Silence consumes the beach. 

It’s as if the ocean and the wind pause for his arrival, calming as Hawks dips to the ground. 

Dabi turns away from Red, his gaze narrowing as he takes him in. “I don’t remember anyone saying anything about the number three hero coming here.” 

A sly smile slips onto Hawks’ face. “That’s funny since the little alien told me a lot about you—“ 

“I’m not an alien!” Red ducks under Dabi’s arm to stare Hawks down. 

But then, the anger on his face turns into confusion. “Do you guys hear screaming?” 

Now that he’s pointing it out . . . 

The very faint screams grow louder in pitch like a siren on an ambulance heading closer and closer to them— 

To their left, something shoots out of the air and lands straight into the sand. 

Teru swivels around. 

A very familiar pig head digs itself out of the sand. “This! This is the worst day of my life!” 

Red and Toga stare wide-eyed at him. “Oolong?!” 

The smile on Hawks’ face never changes. “I found him while inspecting Mr. Dabi’s apartment. I thought a reformed vigilante as yourself would know better than to hide illegal aliens.” 

Red scratches the back of his neck. "Actually, Toga and I—" 

Dabi pushes him aside. 

He steps right into Hawks’ space, only inches apart with a cold, cold threat in his eyes. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, but nobody steps into my apartment and steps out alive.” 

Hawks’ smile curls as his eyes hone in with a steel glint. “Be careful there with your words, Mr. Dabi. It’ll be a little bad if I end up believing them.” 

Dabi’s stitches start to smoke. 

The feathers on Hawks’ wings start to sharpen. 

But before the tension could ignite— 

“Come on! We aren’t supposed to be at each other’s throats!” Red barges between the two, throwing up his arms to split them apart. 

Red turns to Dabi with a frown. “Look, the Hero Commission assigned Hawks as my ‘partner’. He’s here to help out with stopping Giovanni.” 

“What makes you think I’m gonna work with the Commission’s lapdog?” Dabi scowls. 

“Actually, I’m completely independent of them—“ 

“Stop talking!” Red fires back at Hawks, before whirling to face Dabi. “You don’t work with anyone. That’s why we have to switch things up. Remember the last time you walked into a Team Rocket hideout alone?” 

Teru remembers it well. He and Kageyama had to carry Dabi’s paralyzed body up to Mr. Reigen's apartment. 

Judging by how Dabi’s scowl deepens, it looks like the memory is still fresh. “And you think No. 3 is our trump card?” 

“I think I don't want another neighborhood to burn down because we got careless.” Red folds his arms. “If Hawks can stop that from happening, I’m willing to give him a chance.” 

“Hmph,” Dabi stalks away from Red, turning his back on them all. “That’s none of my fuckin’ business. I’m here because that bag of shit is going after my target. Don’t forget it.” 

“I won’t.” Red glares right at him. 

The air between them has the hair on Teru’s neck rising. 

Even with everyone here allied against one foe, it’s hard to forget that each person has their own agenda. 

The situation could change in an instant. 

Lukewarm teammates could become cold-hearted enemies— 

“Well!” Hawks claps his hands and beams. “I have a photo shoot later this afternoon, so let’s start finding this secret hideout!” 

Red gives him a terrible side-eye while Toga grimaces. 

This guy . . . 

Oolong walks up to them, his head covered with sand and his eyebags deep enough to rival an old lady's purse. “I just spent two days hiding from the pyromaniac in his own home. Can someone please take me somewhere I can sleep without worrying about my life?” 

“Later,” Red turns his head to look over at the beach. “There might be a clue to finding the hideout. We’ll need to sweep the beach though.” 

Toga glances over the ever-spanning beach and slumps her shoulders. “Why are we sweeping a beach? That’ll take forever . . . “ 

“It’s not literal, Toga . . . well, I don’t think it is . . .” Red says, as his hand brushes over his belt carrying those red and white devices. “I could bring out Aero . . .” 

“As much as I would like a glimpse of those animals you use,” Hawks walks over to Red, his arms folded against his head. “I can take it from here.” 

Once again, the feathers making up his wings detach one by one, zipping through the air like bullets. 

They whirl around, tainting the air red and brown, picking up the sand and making it rise and rise and rise. 

Teru puts his barrier up, blocking out any unwanted debris and feathers. 

From the safety of his telekinetic shield, he sees it all play out. 

A small cyclone tears through the beach, ripping up the topsoil as it moves downwards. 

The cyclone tapers off, with all the sand and debris settling. 

The red feathers shape themselves into wings behind Hawks’ back. 

Dabi straightens out the now-sandy trench coat he was using to cover himself and gives Hawks an icy stare. 

Red unzips his jacket and Toga pokes her head out from her sweater, with both of their clothes covered in sand. 

Oolong is more sand than pig at this point, his would-be curses leaving his mouth as dry coughs. 

Toga growls at him while Red grumbles. “You couldn’t have given us a warning?” 

“Nope!” 

Teru sighs and lowers his barrier. 

It’s gonna be a long day if they have to put up with this. 

But as he kicks sand off his shoes, his eyes catch something dull. 

Stones. A trail of them. 

“Guys,” Teru calls out, “Look at this. That cyclone lifting up all the sand must have uncovered this trail.” 

The shape of the stones are too precise, and the spacing between them are too exact. 

It has to be man-made. 

Red narrows his eyes. “Let’s follow it.” 

It seems like the key to finding Giovanni’s hideout. 

Up until it leads them to a rocky cliffside. 

Teru stares at the towering stone ledge in front of him. “Why do I keep forgetting this guy is evil?” 

There’s nothing Teru hates more than having all his time and effort wasted. 

“Stupid piece of junk!” Oolong kicks a rock right at the ledge, only for it to bounce off and land (pathetically) in the sand. 

“A dead end,” Hawks sighs. “We can still search the rest of the beach though.” 

But Red holds up his hand. “Wait . . . when that rock hit the cliff, it sounded hollow . . .” 

Red walks up to the ledge. 

He places his hand against the cliff. 

His hand sinks into the rock. 

Something clicks. 

Suddenly, the cliff is creaking and the rocks are crumbling. 

Bright lights flare out from the cracks. 

“Uhh, kid!” Oolong steps back, his eyes widening. “What the hell did you just do?!” 

Red doesn’t answer, his eyes narrowing at the movement of the rocks. 

A giant slab of the rock slides into the ground. 

Teru blinks. 

With the slab sinking into the sand, an entrance into a cave appears in front of them, shrouded in darkness. 

“Wow . . . “ Toga walks up to Red’s side, her head lifting to take in the sight of the giant cave entrance. 

Dabi grunts, “Hiding in the dark like a roach. Shoulda expected it.” 

“I contacted Miyake.” Hawks smiles and shows them his phone. “She said we should wait until she can bring backup.” 

Red whips his head, “Ms. Miyake told us to wait?!” 

“She can be a bit of a mystery, but she’s mostly by the books.” Hawks shrugs his shoulders. “Mysterious villain hideout? The commission would definitely consider that a job requiring more experts.” 

But the smile on Hawks’ face grows into a smirk as he stares at Dabi’s back. “Though, something tells me you aren’t willing to wait for them, Mr. Dabi.” 

Dabi doesn’t answer, instead walking further into the entrance. 

The shadows of the entrance swallow him completely. 

It's exactly the kind of attitude that got him chained in a dungeon miles underground in Team Rocket’s base. 

But one look at how Red crosses his arms and furrows his brows tells Teru what he's planning to do next. 

Toga whips a knife out of her sweater and flicks it into her hand. “This sucks.” 

Oolong glances at the hideout and shivers. “For once, you and I are on the same page.” 

“Sorry, Hawks, but you can stay here and wait for backup.” Red straightens his back, his eyes steeling. “Giovanni is my responsibility. I’m not wasting any time on stopping him.” 

Hawks’ dazzling smile never loses its gleam. “The commission said—“ 

“I don’t care what they said,” Red bores determined eyes at him. “I’m stopping Giovanni regardless.” 

For the first time since he arrived, the smile on Hawks’ face falls away. 

Instead, he stares at Red with too sharp eyes. 

Red meets his gaze with ease. 

Hawks sighs, slapping that dopey smile back on his face as if the previous second had never happened. “It can’t be helped. Besides, I can’t let you go alone without a partner!” 

Teru looks up at the gigantic stone entrance. 

This mission is becoming more bothersome by the second. 

Imagine all the things Teru could have been doing instead. 

Maybe he could have hung out with Kageyama at his fun school trip . . . 

But someone has to save the world, and Teru has to be the one to do it. 

He sighs and stuffs his hands into his pockets. 

He steps into the hideout. 

Teru looks to the left. 

"Choose this path if war is your master. You live to fight with your name showered in glory. Choose this path if your heart guides you to it." 

Teru looks to the right. 

"Choose this path if peace is your maker. You fight to live with your body clothed in rest. Choose this path if your heart guides you to it." 

Teru rubs his eyes. 

He looks back at the two quotes nailed to the cave wall. 

They have been walking through this hideout for a few minutes, with Hawks using a flashlight he had on hand. 

Unlike the first headquarters, this seems more like a cave hidden from sight. 

Somehow, they hadn’t come against any trouble so far. 

At least until now. 

They're stuck right in the fork between two paths. 

Oolong looks at the two paths before whipping his head back. “We should just turn around and go home.” 

“Don’t be a scaredy-pig,” Toga replies. 

She turns back to read the two quotes. “War or peace . . . Reddie, let’s take the path on the right!” 

Red looks at the two signs and hums, his brows wrinkled in thought. 

But Dabi moves him aside. “Choosing between war and peace, huh? They got a sense of humor for sure.” 

“And which philosophy do you ascribe to, Mr. Dabi?” Hawks send him a cheeky smile. 

Dabi’s glare seems to glow with his blue eyes. “We didn’t come here in the name of peace, No. 3.” 

He makes his way into the path on the left. 

“Guess we’re going left,” Red sighs as everyone follows Dabi’s lead. 

As they round the corner, Teru runs his hands against the rugged cave walls. 

“What do you think is the point of this?” He asks. 

“This is pretty normal for Team Rocket. They usually have a bunch of hideouts scattered around the country.” Red explains. 

But Red's face darkens as he walks through the tunnel. “A hideout like this isn’t Giovanni’s style, though. This place is probably under the control of a commander.” 

“A commander?” Hawks raises a brow. “That implies organization and manpower beyond a street gang.” 

“I remember facing off against an army in my own world.” A smug smile appears on Oolong’s face. “The Red Ribbon Army was trying to take over the world but, luckily, I was there!” 

“I’m sure you were pretty useful as a footstool for whoever actually saved the day,” Teru says. 

“Okay, maybe I didn’t do much ,” Oolong grumbles, “But I provided moral support, and I was a great getaway driver!” 

Toga swings her arms as she walks, glancing over to ask Oolong, “So, who was the real hero?” 

It’s as if someone had given him a million yen, with how much Oolong brightens. “Son Goku! He’s Gohan’s father. He took down the whole Red Ribbon Army by himself!” 

Her eyes widen. “All by himself?” 

“All by himself! And he was only fifteen!” 

Funny enough, Kageyama also faced an organization hellbent on world domination. 

CLAW, an ESPer affiliation, wreaked havoc on Teru’s life. 

He couldn't have a day of peace, not with their constant attempts to recruit him. 

With all the fights he got caught up in, Teru had to hide his powers and identity. 

It got so bad that his parents had to flee the country, unable to stop the ESPers targeting their precious son. 

But Kageyama defeated the leader of CLAW, dissolving the organization. 

Kageyama saved Teru. 

Teru turns his head in the direction of Oolong’s voice. 

Even though he can’t see it, he can hear the admiration in Oolong’s tone. 

The high-pitch that comes from excitement, the syllables rushed to describe them— 

“I’ll say it to anyone who will listen; Goku was one of a kind!” 

Teru has said similar words about Kageyama. 

He has similar feelings about Kageyama. 

Similar. 

His fingers press against the cave walls, cracking the rock. 

How gross. 

He tsks. “Too bad we’re stuck with you instead of him.” 

Right then, Hawks turns his flashlight on them. 

Teru sees the exact moment the asinine smile on Oolong’s face melts into a scowl that only disgust could sculpt. “Well, screw you too, kid!” 

Like the little piggy he is, Oolong scuttles on his short feet, walking ahead of the rest of them. 

“Someone’s bitter!” Hawks remarks to the empty air, showing his ignorance of social norms. 

Toga turns her head while Red frowns at him. 

“Did you have to say that?” He asks. 

But Teru shrugs his shoulders. “We were all thinking it.” 

Suddenly, a familiar scream rings out of the cave. 

“That doesn’t sound good.” Red quickens his pace. 

The cave lights up with a blue tint. 

The sound of flames burning echoes in the tunnel. 

“Neither does that.” Hawks’ feathers sharpen. “Looks like Mr. Dabi started having fun without me.” 

The intensity of burning blue fire grows with every step they take. 

Finally, they reach the end of the tunnel. 

With the open space, they have enough room to spread out. 

Which is good since Team Rocket grunts currently surround them on all sides. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Oolong lands on his butt, scrambling away from the giant rat that almost takes a chunk out of him. “I thought rats were vegetarian!” 

“Raticate!” A grunt points his finger right at Oolong. “Use Hyper—Aaah!” 

Bursting flames rush over him like fiery waves. 

Dabi’s stitches creak as he cracks a wide smile. “They’re all weaklings.” 

Burning scones line the cave walls, highlighting the angry looks on the grunts’ faces. “Capture them!” 

“Poli, I need you!” Red launches one of the red balls on his belt into the air. 

One red flash of light later, a blue froggish creature appears. 

Teru blinks. 

It has angry black eyes on top of its head, a white patch on its stomach with a black swirl, and way too muscular arms. 

“Sweep the cave with Ice Beam!” Red shouts. 

The frog monster stretches out its gloved hands. 

A beam of ice shoots out, freezing everything in its path. 

“Run!“ A few grunts get caught in the ice formation, including the grunt Dabi set on fire. 

Dabi, said arsonist, scoffs. 

“Pika, to me!” Red calls as the yellow mouse jumps off Toga’s shoulders to land next to him. “Killing isn’t an option, Dabi.” 

Toga pouts and puts away the knives she was twirling around in her hands. “I forgot about the ‘no-fun-allowed’ policy.” 

A second later, she spins around, kicking one of the grunts across the face. 

"This is so boring without my knife . . ." Toga sighs as she punches a henchman right in the nose. 

Teru puts up his telekinetic barrier, leaning back as the random attacks flung at him bounce away. 

Right beside him, Hawks yawns. 

Teru glances his way and does a double-take. 

Hawks doesn't move a muscle, letting his wings do all the work. 

His feathers zip through the air, tossing grunts left and right. “I thought these animal things were dangerous!” 

“Poli, use Dynamic Punch!” The frog monster rushes towards a grunt and the bat animal they're commanding. 

It throws a glowing fist. 

The cave echoes from the impact. 

Both man and beast end up launched through the cave walls. 

“These grunts are terrible trainers!” Red calls his monster back to his side. “They’re using stolen Pokémon they don’t even know how to battle with!” 

Something growls next to him. 

Teru swivels around. 

The most disgusting pile of purple filth snarls as big eyes and liquid hands stretch toward him. 

The owner of the filth smirks at him. “Grimer, use Sludge Bomb on him!” 

It’ll be a cold day in hell before he lets that thing anywhere near him. 

“Get lost.” Coldness creeps into his voice as Teru sends a burst of psychic energy toward them. 

The purple monster and the grunt fly off, colliding against the cave walls. 

“Don’t get too close to that Grimer! Its stench comes from how toxic they are!” Red warns. 

Teru’s nostrils would have liked a warning earlier, but beggars can’t be choosers. 

Teru aims his psychic aura at the henchmen in front of him, nailing them and their monsters to the walls. “Looks like this will be an easy mission!” 

That’s the exact moment their luck decides to run out. 

“Toga!” Red’s eyes widen, “Watch out for the Arbok behind you!” 

“What’s an Arbok?!” Toga spins around. “Oh . . .” 

A towering purple snake leers above her, its white fangs dripping with poison. 

“It’s huge!” Toga lowers herself, narrowing her eyes as she takes slow steps backward. 

Slow steps that lead her right into Oolong. 

“Augh!” She trips over him, collapsing. 

The giant snake snaps towards them. 

Hawks glances in their direction. “I got it!” 

But Teru trusts him as far as he can throw him. 

It’s better if Teru intervenes himself. 

He flares up with telekinetic energy, pushing his aura to hasten his flight. 

He zooms through the air, dodging red feathers and pivoting as his foot hits the ground. 

The giant cobra snarls at his arrival. 

Teru reinforces his barrier. 

The cobra whips its body against the barrier. 

“Ugh!” Teru grunts as the cobra’s fangs scrape against the shield, tearing the air with an awful screech. 

He spins, glancing over at Toga and Oolong as they untangle themselves. “Are you two alright?” 

He didn’t expect that snake monster to be so strong. Its initial impact was forceful, but thankfully, Teru withstood it— 

“Hanazawa! It’s using ‘Bite’! Dark-type moves can break through Psychic moves!” 

What? 

Teru glances at his barrier. 

The cobra’s fangs dig deeper. 

His barrier cracks. 

“Let go of the barrier!” Red yells. 

Teru takes it one step further. 

He explodes his barrier. 

The psychic energy throws the cobra away. 

The blast pushes Teru backward, sending him straight into Toga and Oolong. 

He hears screeches and wails. 

He sees flashes in his vision. 

His back hits the wall. 

Something clicks. 

He flips. 

Teru’s feet leave the ground as a segment of the cave wall suddenly bulges outwards. 

With his limbs still tangled with Toga’s, he’s stuck against the wall, left to follow its motions as it flips upside down. 

The cave wall completes its turn. 

Red’s widened eyes is the last sight Teru catches. 

Teru ends up tangled with Toga, sliding down against the cave wall. 

“Get off me!” Toga shoves him away, crawling to her feet as she looks around. “Reddie?! Reddie!” 

“What—ouch—the hell was that?!” Oolong grimaces as he rubs the back of his head. 

Teru rises up, scanning his surroundings. 

They’re no longer on the open battlefield. 

Instead, they're stuck in a section of the cave with wide, winding tunnels and paths. 

It's as if they landed inside a labyrinth. 

“When I hit the cave wall, I heard a clicking noise. It must have been a built-in mechanism to flip the cave walls.” Teru says, running his hand through his hair. 

It looks like it separated them from the rest of the group. 

Toga bangs her fists against the cave walls. “No, no! Let me in! I have to be with Reddie! Reddie!!” 

“Toga,” Teru calls out, but she ignores him to keep digging. 

Teru narrows his eyes. 

He walks up to her and grabs her wrist. “Toga!” 

Almost immediately, Toga whips out a knife and lines it against his throat. “Get outta my way.” 

He could take her down in the snap of his fingers. 

Lucky for her, Teru isn’t interested in handling both her and the surrounding Team Rocket forces. 

He rolls his eyes at her. “Do you think you’re strong enough to flip that wall?” 

“I can’t be away from Reddie!” The knife still hovers a centimeter away from Teru’s neck. “Reddie is—“ 

“Red has six monsters that are always holding back.” Teru points out. “You have, at most, five dirty knives you picked up from an alleyway. Red said you’re the smarter one between the two of you. Show me he wasn’t wrong.” 

Toga sneers and tosses his hand away. “I don’t care what you think! Nothing will get between me and Reddie!” 

“No one wants to get between that mess anyway!” Oolong pipes up, only to cower behind Teru when Toga glares at him. “I’m just saying!” 

Teru folds his arms. “Chances are, we won’t activate that wall anytime soon. We’re better off following this tunnel to the end to try and reunite with the others.” 

Toga jerks away from the wall, glaring at him from under the curtain of her blonde bangs. “Why can’t you blow the wall up with your psychic powers?” 

Teru shakes his head. “Throwing random attacks at the wall might destabilize the cave.” 

Toga huffs, hugging herself as her fingers clench to the sides of her arms. “Fine, but if something happens to Reddie . . .” 

But Teru waves her off, ”Yeah, yeah. You’ll kill us, we get it. Let’s hurry up to the others.” 

As they walk down the tunnels, following the twists and turns, Oolong calls out to him. “Psst! Psst!” 

Teru pieces together enough of his patience to reply, “How can I help you?” 

“Listen, kid!” Oolong darts wild eyes behind him, making sure Toga isn’t eavesdropping. “I’m serious! Blondie is a few seconds from making a buffet out of us! If you got a way to calm her down, you need to share it with the rest of us!” 

“Toga might be a loose cannon, but she’s more interested in reuniting with Red than antagonizing us.” Teru answers. “Besides, if it comes down to it, I can hold her down.” 

“Right, right . . . That’s right. She’s obsessed with that kid.” Oolong mutters. “If desperate times call for desperate measures, I’m willing to use my powers to . . . appease her.” 

What the hell? 

Teru’s neck snaps from how fast he turns. “What do you mean by that?” 

Oolong gives him a bitter smile. “How do you think I survived in Dabi’s apartment for so long?” 

“You need to give me an actual answer, Mr. Oolong.” Because Teru’s mind is coming up with terrible, terrible implications. 

But Oolong throws his hands up, walking away from them. "You can read between the lines. Right now, I'm going to leave crazy with you and walk ahead." 

Teru watches as Oolong strolls through a random path. "Do you even know where you're going?" 

"Kid, I have decades of experience with wandering strange places." Oolong doesn't bother to look back, his figure disappearing into the shadows of the tunnel. "I'm pretty sure I can find my way out of a cave." 

Teru sighs, turning around to meet Toga's glare. "Well? Are you coming too?" 

Toga glowers at him. "Reddie is mine." 

What is actually wrong with her? 

"You do understand . . ." Teru punctuates. ". . . that nobody wants him, right?" 

Toga sneers as she shoulder-checks him, following Oolong down the tunnel. " I want him!" 

Teru takes a second to calm himself down, resisting the urge to pull at his hair. 

Even being stuck with Hawks and Dabi would have been better than this. 

Another second passes, and Teru catches his breath. 

He can't start getting mad—he has to think about what Kageyama would do. 

And right now? 

Kageyama would probably start hurrying to catch up with them before he loses them in the tunnels. 

Right. 

Teru breathes out and starts walking. 

He can do this.

They have been walking for about thirty minutes when the cave tunnels start to widen out. 

“Look!” Oolong points at the far end of the tunnel. “It’s the end of this stupid cave! Finally!” 

Teru walks closer. 

The only light in the cave opening is from Teru’s aura. 

He turns around. 

Toga’s sneakers tap against the rocky ground. 

The sound echoes. 

It’s too silent. 

Teru thickens his telekinetic barrier. 

He waits for the other shoe to drop. 

“Good afternoon.” 

Teru swivels around. 

All at once, the scones lining the walls burst in a brilliant show of purple flames, illuminating the cave. 

Right at the far ends of the cave, a figure sprawls themselves over a rocky throne. 

The figure leans forward, letting their black cape drape onto the ground. “Welcome to the Eastern base for Team Rocket. Neither of you look competent, so I must assume Red is not with you. Shame.” 

Teru’s hands light up with aura. “Who are you?” 

The figure pushes off the throne, revealing themselves. 

Their yellow-slitted eyes emit a pernicious glow in the darkness. 

The woman standing before them has black, scaly skin colored with dark warts and yellow spots. 

Her wispy, feather-like hair twists into a braid that swishes next to her tail. 

A big, red ‘R’ stretches across her collared shirt. 

She flicks her wrist, pushing the cape off her shoulder. “Hmm, you can call me Commander Onyx, as in one of the three commanders of this division of Team Rocket.” 

She takes large strides. 

She steps one bandaged foot in front of the other. 

She watches him. 

A cat circling her prey. 

Teru backs away from the cave walls, moving into the open space. “Division?” 

The commander’s face remains blank. “Since Team Rocket exists in two separate dimensions, a necessity for divisions appeared.” 

“It’s a bit too early for that, isn’t it?” Teru tests the waters, slipping a light tease into his tone. “You haven’t even conquered your own world, let alone this one.” 

“It will happen in the end.” She stares at him. “Neither this world nor the other is strong enough to resist us.” 

Teru wipes off the sweat bubbling on his temple. 

The commander gives off a repulsive air that triggers all the alarms in Teru’s head. 

Teru glances out of the corner of his eye. 

Oolong is five shades paler, standing still as he watches the commander with fearful eyes. 

But Toga . . . 

Where is she? 

Yet, when Teru tries to dart his eyes— 

“. . . Hmm. I changed my mind. There seems to be more to you than I assumed.” 

She’s an inch away from him. 

“You have the kind of sense I appreciate.” Her split tongue slithers close. 

Teru jumps away. “What are you talking about?!” 

The commander leans away. “Simple. I have decided that you are fit enough to join Team Rocket. You will be a wonderful addition to my forces.” 

She stretches one hand out to gesture to a shaking Oolong. “Unlike this one, you are not a coward.” 

Her yellow eyes glance to the side as she stretches her back. “And unlike the other one—“ 

Metal shines in the air. 

Toga appears right behind her, her grip tightening around a sharp knife. 

“—You are not a fool!” She whips her hand, snatching Toga’s wrist. 

“Urk!” Toga grunts as the commander launches her. 

She flies through the air, but Teru catches her with his aura. 

“Toga!” He calls out. 

But Toga only groans, her hand balancing on the cave wall to stand. 

“I suppose a show of my strength is necessary.” Commander Onyx throws her cape aside, stretching her hands to flex sharpened claws. 

Onyx’s face stretches and rips until a mockery of a smile appears. “Prepare yourself.” 

Her leg muscles contract. 

She shoots off. 

She crosses the miles between them in a second. 

Teru forms his barrier in the nick of time. 

She slashes, wind rippling from the force. 

His barrier darkens. 

It collapses. 

What? 

The force pushes him back, with Onyx dashing to take advantage. 

This time, he layers his barriers, four right on top of each other. 

She rips through them with ease. 

“The color of my claws comes from the blood of an Umbreon,” Onyx springs left and right. “All my attacks have the power of a dark-type Pokémon.” 

She slides across the ground, rolling behind him. 

Teru grits his teeth and tries to fling her away with his aura. 

His psychic aura shines bright around her. 

It darkens. 

It crumbles away. 

Damn it. 

“Your powers resemble thoses of psychic-type Pokémon.” She spins fast enough to blur. 

Her tail catches around his neck. 

He can’t dodge! 

The slimy tail snatches him out of the air, dragging him against the ground. 

Jagged rocks scratch against his face, lighting his skin up with pain. 

She finishes her arc, slinging him right against the cave walls. 

His back hits the rock, rattling his spine up and down. 

Blood accompanies Teru’s coughs as he slides down the walls. 

“Team Rocket uniforms have anti-psychic fibers woven into them. I suppose they repel your powers as well.” Onyx walks closer to him, a paragon of confidence. 

Onyx cracks her knuckles. “I won this match the moment it started. Your power is only a small drop compared to the ocean of my strength and experience. That is what will allow me to defeat you. That is what will allow me to rise to the top.” 

Rise to the top? 

Teru can’t help it; he barks out a laugh. 

This lady . . . 

“You’re like how I used to be.” He says. 

“Oh,” For some reason, the commander stills, her tail swishing as she listens. “And how is that?” 

Teru pushes himself up against the walls, raising his head. “You think your powers make you special.” 

“I used to feel the same way, but then, I met someone. Someone with so much more power and kindness than I could ever muster. It made me realize that even with my strength, I’m still just a commoner.” 

“Kid, don’t talk to the evil cult lady!” Oolong yells from the edge of the cave he’s hiding in. “Beat her up!” 

Teru tsks, before glancing back at Onyx. 

But she still hasn’t attacked, rubbing her chin as she stares at him. 

“I see.” She nods. “You and I ascribe to the same philosophy.” 

Huh? 

She stretches out her hand, showing off her long, honed claws. “My quirk, Amphibicat, gives me the abilities of a salamander and a leopard. It makes me strong, but my appearance is off-putting. Because of that, everyone pushed me toward heroism. They said that the pro-hero industry needed someone like me. I could be the proof that heteromorphs could be heroes. I could be the proof to the world that heteromorphs are humans too . . . ” 

“But I refuse to spend my time and energy saving fools not worth the ground they spit on!” She clenches her fist. “I trained to become a pro-hero. Only, I had to endure the drivel of idiotic civilians that found me revolting, yet expected me to serve them.” 

She looks down at her hand. “I was lost before I met Giovanni.” 

Onyx sighs. 

She takes off. 

She appears in front of Toga, grabbing both her hand and knife. 

“When I met Giovanni, his power astounded me. I realized he was leagues ahead of me,” Onyx speaks, even as Toga struggles against her grip. 

“Let me go!” Toga swings at her with her other arm, but she ducks away. 

Instead, Onyx kicks her aside. 

Toga huffs, slamming her sneakers into the dirt to slow her impact. 

Something swishes. 

Toga turns around— 

A grimy, purple sludge rises from the walls with vicious hands that reach for her. 

“Aah!” Toga jumps away, swiveling on her feet. 

She turns fast, blocking the commander’s strike with her knife. 

“Yet, Giovanni still invited me to command his army. He showed me his dream of Team Rocket controlling the world.” Sharp claws seem to glisten as Onyx parries Toga’s slash. “A world where one’s worth comes from their strength alone!” 

Onyx grabs Toga's shoulder and flips over her. 

Still holding on, she turns her flip into a roll. 

She pulls Toga into an arc that lands with her back slammed against the ground. 

Toga’s body bounces backward. 

She gasps, tears spilling out of her eyes. 

“Toga!” Teru rushes over. 

But Onyx blocks him with her body. “You called yourself a commoner, didn’t you?” 

She picks up Toga’s still coughing body from the ground, holding the edge of her sweater with two fingers. 

“I understand your sentiments. I, myself, am a peasant compared to the overpowering might that Giovanni holds.” Onyx turns to him. 

“That someone you mentioned . . . Does it not feel the same? Do they shine so bright that it makes you seem like nothing?” 

Teru thinks of Kageyama. He thinks of the brilliance of his aura. 

“Are they everything you wish you could be?” 

Teru thinks of Kageyama. He thinks of all the friends drawn to his warmth. 

“Does it not pain you that you lack the worth to stand by their side?” 

Teru thinks of Kageyama. He thinks of the hand he stretched towards him, to Teru. 

Teru thinks of himself. 

He thinks of nothing. 

Something scratches inside his throat, like pieces of the truth too heavy to swallow. 

Despite himself— 

Teru looks away. 

Yet, Onyx smiles, and it almost looks kind. “Similar sentiments indeed.” 

She lifts Toga forward, letting him see the bruises and blood spreading over her face. 

“In this world, we have the people standing at the top, the kind of people that gleam. To me, that is Giovanni. To you, that is your someone. Then, we have us, the people strong enough to emit our own glow, though it is not as bright.” 

Onyx launches Toga at him. 

Teru catches her. 

Momentum has him dragging his feet against the ground to slow them down. 

By the time they stop, Teru's hold on Toga is slipping. 

Onyx lifts a single polished finger to point at her. “But people like her . . ." 

Her yellow eyes glow with condemnation. “They are inconsequential garbage that should have never been born. No worth except to kneel down and act as our stepping stones!” 

"Useless. Weak. Inferior." Her words drip with hatred putrid enough to scrape against his soul. "They are proof that some quirks only exist to die out." 

Teru glances down at Toga, who’s still coughing in his arms. “. . . Shut . . . up . . .” 

Behind her fringe, Teru sees the emotions swirling in her golden eyes. 

Rage. Frustration. Bitterness. 

Hurt. 

“No! You’re wrong!” He yells. 

Onyx glares at him. 

She rushes again, her claws aiming for blood. 

With the sudden attack, Teru acts on instinct. 

He frees his hands, dropping Toga to grab the commander’s wrists. 

There’s no time to look back. 

Not when the commander is right in his face. 

“Young child, you think you can lie to me? To yourself?!” Her scowl is crushing. “You think the same.” 

She rips herself from his grip with brute strength, pushing him away. 

Teru grunts against the hit, only to raise his arms. 

He redirects her slash a second later. 

Her slashes grow faster, becoming blurs that Teru is only lucky enough to duck. 

Another slash has her too close, her eyes oozing with amusement. “I saw how you regarded the girl earlier in the tunnels. Holding her at arm’s length, treating her like the demented liability she is!” 

What? 

He backs up. 

He trips. 

The commander hooks a finger through his shirt, lifting him. 

“Your disgust with the pig cowering in the corner is palpable. Dragging his fat, wailing flank around the cave—if only deadweights could be silent!” 

“He’s-he’s not bad—“ Teru jostles left and right. 

But she only drags him closer. 

Those noxious eyes pierce his soul. “Stop making excuses for them.” 

“You said you changed, but you misunderstood yourself.” She declares. “What changed was your place in the hierarchy of power—a hierarchy this world refuses to accept. You lost your footing at the top, and now, in some misplaced manner to cope, you deny its existence in the first place.” 

“You are the same as I: someone with enough strength to stand above the useless.” She sneers at him. “Do you understand what I am saying?” 

Teru understands. 

He understands all too well. 

A long time ago, when he was younger, Teru encountered a CLAW agent on his way home from school for the first time. 

The memory is much too old, with the face of the agent scrubbed away from his brain. 

But Teru will never forget that moment. 

The agent had beaten him up, snarling with darkened eyes and a blinding psychic aura. 

The agent had lifted Teru up by the collar. 

The agent had looked Teru in the eye and told him his weakness made him as worthless as the dirt they stepped upon. 

“Join CLAW and become an ESPer that stands above the ignorant commoners.” The agent had demanded. 

“Join Team Rocket and become an underling that towers over the worthless civilians.” The commander demands. 

Everything is the same. 

The same enemy as before. 

The same philosophy as before. 

Even Teru is still the same as he always was. 

Despite everything he did to try and become a better person, despite meeting Kageyama— 

He’s still the same. 

Commander Onyx flexes her claws, dragging a nail across his skin that pierces his cheek. “I need an answer to my question, child.” 

The wound stings in the open air, a painful reminder of his weakness. 

But before Teru can respond— 

“Aahh! Get back! I got a weapon!” 

Oolong runs up to them, waving around a burning torch. 

Commander Onyx stares at him. 

Oolong keeps swinging the torch. 

Even though he’s only tall enough to reach the top of her knees. 

“You might be all terrifying, but no one is immune to fire—“ 

Commander Onyx puffs out a breath of air, extinguishing the flames. 

Oolong looks at his now bare torch. 

He looks back at the commander. 

The commander stares at him, unimpressed. “Be honest with me; what do you think you could do in this situation?” 

For a moment, Oolong shakes all over, his grip on his torch slipping as he stares wide-eyed at her. 

But then— 

Oolong gives her two thumbs up and a big smile. “Act as the distraction!” 

The air slices in half. 

Teru’s shirt tears, ripping him away from the commander’s grip. 

“Ugh!” Blood spurts from Commander Onyx’s wrist. “You!” 

Black sneakers settles down on the ground. 

Toga slouches her back, lifting her head to reveal the bloodied knife between her fangs. 

She spits the knife out. 

It lands straight in her palm. 

Her eyes glow with intent. “I’m gonna kill you.” 

Commander Onyx’s smile splits apart her face. “Any chance to put you down is a chance I will gladly take!” 

Commander Onyx rushes forward, her claws meeting Toga’s knife with sparks flying. 

“Up, up, up! Let’s move out of here!” Oolong says as he drags him away. 

He leans him up against the cave walls, panting. “Okay, kid, what’s the plan?” 

The plan? 

Teru looks at his bloodied hands. 

“There’s no plan,” Teru says. “We can’t win.” 

Oolong shakes his shoulders. “Don't say that! You have to fight for me—I mean us!” 

He doesn’t get it. 

Teru tosses Oolong’s hands aside. “No! You don’t understand—I’m a hypocrite!” 

“Okay?!” 

“I-I thought I could change! W-when I met Kageyama, h-he was so amazing! His powers can do anything—“ 

“Right . . . Kageyama, amazing powers, got it—“ 

“No, you don’t!” Teru swivels around. “Kageyama is powerful, and kind, and never had to deal with CLAW, and had friends that cared about him!” 

Teru rubs at his face, only for blood to smear all over his eyes. 

His vision starts to blur. “I’m weak compared to him, a-and not even Mom and Dad wanted to stay around me!” 

“I thought if I could become a better person . . . If I was kind as Kageyama, I could be like him—“ 

“But I’m still the same! I can’t change!” 

A sob rips out of his throat. 

“Why-why can’t I change? Am-am I supposed to be like this forever . . . ?” 

Teru turns his head to look back at Oolong. 

Oolong lifts his hands up, looking more scared than when he was facing the commander. “Okay . . . this is serious to you . . . quick question, how old are you?” 

What? 

“F-fourteen.” Teru sniffs. 

“Fourteen years old,” Oolong repeats. “Another quick question. When did you make this life-altering decision to be a better person or whatever?” 

Wasn’t he listening? “When I met Kageyama.” 

“And when was that?” 

The words seem to drag out of his lips. “ . . . A month ago.” 

“So, after fourteen years of being some kind of an elitist asshole, you decided to be normal, only to slip up a month later?” Oolong raises a brow. “Am I getting that right?” 

A realization rattles in his brain, but Teru refuses to accept it. “Don’t make it sound so trivial!” 

Oolong narrows his eyes at him, his snout scrunching up from the force. “I’m not doing anything but stating the facts you’re telling me!” 

“No!” Teru grits his teeth. “No, you don’t get it! I have to change! I have to become a better person, but I keep failing!” 

Oolong darts his eyes at the ongoing battle and grimaces. “Why couldn’t you have an emotional revelation before we started fighting the bad guys . . . 

“Look, everyone messes up. Hell, my screw-ups could fill an encyclopedia.” He huffs. “Methinks you’re being a little too hard on yourself.” 

“I’m not.” All of a sudden, Teru feels tired. “I . . . If I can’t be a good person . . . how can I be Kageyama’s rival?” 

He looks down at his lap. “How can I be his friend?” 

And if Teru isn’t good enough to stay by Kageyama’s side . . . 

He’ll have to live a life without him. 

No more friends, no more compassion, no more warmth. 

Everything Kageyama brought to his life would be gone. 

Even with the powers he wields— 

Teru would be cold and alone. 

Oolong sighs, pulling his hand down his face. “Okay, when you say Kageyama, do you mean that kid with the weird bowl haircut or his brother? What I’m about to say next depends on who you’re talking about.” 

Teru stares at him. “The boy with the bowl haircut.” 

“Okay, then! Another question,” Oolong says, “When did that Kageyama kid decide to hang out with you?” 

Huh? 

“What? I-I don’t know. Kageyama . . . just invited me places. I went along with him. It’s-it’s not like he ever turned me away.” 

“Great, final question.” Oolong points at him. “Since that Kageyama lets you follow him around, doesn’t that mean you’re a good enough person for him?” 

. . . What? 

“You keep whining that you’re not 'good enough' when that Kageyama kid clearly thinks otherwise.” Oolong drives his fist into his palm. ”So, how come you got higher standards for yourself than the kid you worship? Does that make sense?!” 

Oh. 

With everything going on and working so hard to become a good person— 

Teru forgot that Kageyama already trusted him. 

Kageyama already cares about him. 

So, why . . . why is he still fighting so hard to prove himself? 

“It doesn’t,” Teru whispers. “I guess it doesn’t make sense at all.” 

But he can't sit with the epiphany, not when Oolong is dragging him to his feet. 

“Great, glad your crisis is over.” He clasps his hands together. “Now, take down the evil commander! Kageyama sure wouldn’t be happy if you joined Team Rocket and let the rest of us die . . .” 

Teru darts his eyes. 

“Give up!” Onyx laughs, whipping her tail against Toga’s knife. 

“. . . can’t . . . stop . . . !” Toga gnashes her teeth, blood spilling against her temple as she blocks the hit. 

That’s right. 

He has a battle to win. 

Teru huffs. “I can’t use any of my telekinetic attacks against Onyx. She’ll overpower me in a straight fight.” 

“Jeez.” Oolong winces, a wobbly frown forming on his face. “I-I guess I can lend you some aid with my power . . .” 

Teru stares. 

He glances back at the battle. 

Onyx whirls around, landing a solid kick that Toga jumps away from. 

Teru looks back at Oolong. “I don't think you can seduce the commander.” 

For a moment, Oolong gawks at him. 

Then— 

“You have some serious misconceptions about my power. But, more important—watch out!” Oolong grabs his arm, dragging him close. 

A moment later, Toga lands next to them, her back colliding against the ground. 

The commander rushes forward. 

Oolong turns to him. “Grab my hand!” 

Teru doesn’t think. 

He follows his gut. 

He grabs Oolong’s hand. 

The commander stretches her glistening claws. 

But right before she hits— 

A burst of smoke erupts from his side. 

The cave fills with white smoke, muddying his sight and clogging his lungs. 

His right hand feels too heavy. 

He waves the smoke away. 

He lifts his hand. 

A bright, silver sword shines in his grip. 

“Woah . . .” Teru inspects the blade, marveling at its sharpness. 

“Pretty cool, isn’t it?!” 

What? 

Teru scans the room to find the source of the voice, only to find himself looking down. 

Two round eyes blink open in the middle of the blade. “Check it out!” 

Teru reels back. 

Did Oolong turn into a sword? 

“I told you I was useful!” Oolong’s mouth appears in the sword, creating a familiar face embedded in the blade. 

“This is your power?” Teru tests the sword, swinging it in the air. “Do you just look like a sword, or did you actually transform into one?” 

The eyes on the sword widen. “You think I would have done this if I couldn’t transform?! Though, it is a recent development . . . Maybe that green ghost was right about the portals changing us . . .” 

“We can talk about it later,” The smoke around them starts to clear. 

A cautious, bloodied Toga leans against the cave wall. “Huh . . . Hana-chan . . . ?” 

A mile away, the commander stands straight, frowning. “What are you doing?” 

Teru tightens his grip on Oolong. “I may be a hypocrite . . . but I’m sure of one thing: I don’t want to be like you!” 

He turns, his gaze meeting Toga. “I’m not gonna be the type of person that tears others down. Toga can be frivolous and intense, but that will never make her worthless, even if she wasn’t strong.” 

“Really . . . ?” Though she looks like she’s half a second from passing out, Toga still gapes at him. 

Teru looks down at Oolong, who’s still shifted into the sword. “Oolong isn’t useless either.” 

“You have such a way with words . . . “ Oolong grumbles. 

“You may have chosen to live a lonely life at the top, but I’m different.” Teru points the sword at her. “I want to change! I want to stand side by side with my friends!” 

“Insolent child!” Onyx growls, her eyes glowing with anger. “The only thing you have chosen is your final resting site! Take comfort in your decision to die! Muk!” 

Suddenly, the purple sludge from before seeps out of the cracks of the cave walls. 

It tumbles forward. 

It coalesces into an amorphous guck that slithers around the commander’s feet. 

It blinks open dark eyes and roars, revealing a mouth with ooze that drips from its jaw. 

“That sludge thing . . . It’s a Pokémon?!” Oolong shouts. 

“Giovanni gave me my Muk as a precious gift,” Onyx stands tall as the Pokémon crawls around her body and slips up her arms. “Let me make an example of you. Muk, use Sludge!” 

The slime monster roars, its vicious body shaking and spraying purple venom. 

“Toga, hold on!” Teru grabs her hand and drags her close, covering her with his barrier. 

The venom splatters against his shield, but it holds firm. 

“You are wide open!” Onyx appears behind him, her claws glistening. 

“Go away!” Toga blocks the hit with her knife. 

But Onyx smiles as the Muk crawls off her body, stretching towards them. 

Teru fires off a psychic blast, only for his aura to corrode. 

Damn. Is it because Onyx is so close? 

He shifts tactics. 

He swings Oolong around, slicing the Muk away from them. 

It hits, but Onyx’s smile never fades. “Muk, use Screech.” 

The Muk screams. 

“Aah!” The sound waves launch them right against the cave walls. 

Teru’s back hit the walls, with Toga’s body flinging against his. 

“D-damn,” Teru coughs as the pain runs up and down his body. 

He rubs his mouth, only to see blood smeared on his palm. 

What’s going on . . . 

“Kid?” Teru looks down to see Oolong’s worried frown appear on the sword. “You don’t look too hot.” 

“I’m fine. Just not used to fighting this long.” He lies. 

The frown on the sword warps into something less decipherable. “Haha . . . what a coincidence! I'm the same way! In fact, I can probably keep this transformation for two more minutes before I have to turn back, haha. . .” 

What? “It’s only been three minutes since you changed!” 

The cave darkens as the Muk rises above the burning scones. 

The scones . . . 

Onyx’s anti-psychic clothes protect her from Teru’s psychic attacks. 

With the Muk sticking to her skin, it must be under the cover of her protection. 

He’ll need a stronger attack to separate them. 

He lifts Toga from his lap, shaking her back to awareness. “Toga, c’mon! I need you for this!” 

Toga huffs, even as her eyes refuse to focus. “ . . . T-tired, Hana-chan . . .” 

“You don’t have to fight,” Teru points at the burning scones lining the walls. “I’ll distract Onyx, but you gotta grab all the scones and pile them up.” 

“What the hell is that supposed to do?” Oolong asks. 

“You’ll see.” Teru stretches his hand towards Toga. “Let's finish this fight together.” 

But Toga looks at his hand without saying a word. 

Something seems to swirl in her golden eyes. 

Teru moves to pull back. 

“Yeah!” Toga snatches his hand and shakes it. 

With how her eyes light up, her gaze is just as determined as Red’s. “Once and for all.” 

“Are you two done?” 

Onyx stretches out her claws, with the Muk ebbing along her skin. 

Teru shares a glance with Toga. 

Toga meets his eyes and nods. 

Teru looks back at Onyx and readjusts his grip on Oolong. “Sorry to keep you waiting.” 

Onyx’s smile stretches her face to the limits. “Finally, let me show you the might of a commander!” 

Onyx slides across the ground, using the Muk’s body to cut her friction. “Muk, hit him with Sludge Bomb!” 

The Muk swishes together a noxious, purple froth of sludge. 

It shoots the foam at him. 

“Oolong, get ready!” Teru raises the sword. 

He swings. 

The foam splits apart. 

“One minute!” Oolong warns. 

Teru pools his psychic energy to his feet and flies. 

He tears through the air, swinging the sword downwards against Onyx’s claws. 

She parries the slice. 

She slashes back. 

Teru blocks it with the sword, flying as his aura propels his steps. 

But Onyx smirks. “I heard your conversation earlier. The someone you admire . . . The boy you called Kageyama . . .” 

He nearly loses his grip on Oolong. “Mind your business!” 

“I see this battle as an opportunity.” Onyx hisses. “Let us put our philosophies to the test, shall we? Whose faith is stronger: my faith in Giovanni or yours in that Kageyama? Who will overcome?” 

Teru yells. “Take his name out of your mouth!” 

Hot sweat accumulates on the blade. 

Exhausted eyes swirl in the metal of the sword. “Thirty seconds!” 

Teru churns his psychic energy, tightening his aura to the extreme. 

“Ten seconds!” 

He presses his feet against the ground. 

“Five seconds!” 

Onyx’s scowl could boil metal. “You cannot win.” 

“Three!” 

Teru holds the sword closer to his chest. “I already have.” 

“Two!” 

He exhales. 

“One!” 

Teru explodes his aura. 

He’s a blur in the cave, flying faster than sound as he swings his sword in mid-air. 

He slashes. 

The air splits in half. 

He lands on his feet. 

All of a sudden— 

The cave explodes with sound, leaving the ground rumbling. 

Oolong explodes in his hands, his regular body dropping onto the floor. “Ugh!” 

Teru glances back. 

Onyx stands on the ravaged battlefield. 

Half of the Muk screeches as it slips off her body. 

Her long undone braid swishes behind her, with the slice of the cut running up from her chest to her chin. 

Blood drips down the side of her face. “I will finish you.” 

“Hana-chan, I’m done!” 

Toga drops the last scone in a heap, forging a bonfire that fills the cave up with smoke. 

“I am sick of you!” Onyx stretches forward with a bloodthirsty snarl. 

Toga runs to his side, leaning against his shoulder as she holds up a knife. 

“You children have humiliated me for the very last time!” Onyx scowls, the rest of her Muk dripping off her skin. “Say your last words!” 

She’s right in front of the bonfire. 

The corners of his lips curl. 

Teru stretches his hand and yells. “Combust!” 

He blows the bonfire apart. 

Scorching hot flames incinerate the cave in an explosion of fire. 

Toga, Oolong, and Teru sail in the air, with the burst pushing them back. 

With all his psychic energy used up, the full force of Teru's exhaustion hits. 

He crashes into the ground. 

His lungs start to burn. 

Fatigue makes his limbs too heavy. 

Teru doesn't have the strength to move. 

“Hana-chan! Hana-chan!” He’s rolled onto his back with Toga looking down at him. 

“Hey, what’s wrong with the kid?” Oolong’s worried face pops up. “Is that scratch on his cheek supposed to be all purple?!” 

The scratch from Onyx’s claw when she was holding him up. 

Didn’t she say her quirk gave her the traits of a salamander and a leopard? 

Teru’s heart skips a beat. 

Salamanders are poisonous. 

“He’s poisoned!” Toga grabs his face, rubbing at the scratch with her sleeve. 

That explains why that fight wore him out so fast. 

Teru almost wants to laugh, but his chest burns too much to waste the effort. 

Toga shakes his shoulders. “We gotta get him to Reddie! Reddie can fix him!” 

“We can do that!” Oolong bobs back and forth. “You lift him up, and I'll try to retrace our steps . . . Oh no.” 

What’s going on? 

Teru tries to lift his head, but it’s too much. 

Instead, his head lolls to the side, tilting. 

It gives him a clear view of Onyx. 

The commander lumbers out of the flames engulfing the other half of the cave, limping on one leg. 

“Are you kidding me?!” Oolong hides behind Toga. “How the hell are you still alive?!” 

Onyx doesn’t answer. 

She dashes towards them. 

Toga raises her knife only to get tossed away with Oolong. “Ack! Hana-chan!” 

“To—urf!” 

A heel slams against his head, grinding his skull against the ground. 

Black spots fill up Teru’s sight, blotching out visual details. 

“Well done, you impudent child. You made me waste one of my lives!” 

Her claws unsheath as boiling, purple sludge drips onto Teru’s face. “My faith in Giovanni has allowed me to subdue you.” 

“Hana-chan!” 

“Kid!” 

Onyx kicks his head, revealing her torched face and glowing claws. “But your faith in your friend is meaningless!” 

"Friendship? Kindness? What a joke." She raises her claws. “Tell me, where is your Kageyama now?!” 

She swings. 

Teru nearly closes his eyes. 

Nearly. 

But before he can— 

    The world— 

                Shifts— 

                       To the— 

Left. 

A wave of thick psychic energy pours over them, soaking straight into Teru’s bones. 

He knows this aura. 

It’s from the same entity that tore up the skies the day Teru fought Kageyama. 

The same being that showed Teru the errors of his ways. 

It. 

“What . . . What the hell is this power?!” Onyx’s eyes widen as her arms shake. 

Blue bubbles are all around them, appearing from the edge of existence. 

It toils, twists, and turns. 

Oolong grabs Toga’s leg and shouts. “It’s those portal things!” 

One portal turns into ten, fizzing and bursting into existence. 

Onyx stares at the portals before whirling back to him. 

She lifts her claws, her eyes burning. “This is nothing but a distraction—I will end you where you lay!“ 

But before she can— 

Toga jumps into a portal. 

The portal right behind Onyx’s head trembles. 

“Ack!” Toga swings down from the portal and crashes into Onyx. 

They tumble to the ground. 

Toga takes off her sweater and smothers Onyx’s face with it. 

“Unhand me, you disgusting—“ Toga shoves the commander aside, rolling away from her. 

She crawls towards him, her pants getting heavier. 

She stretches her hand toward him. “You—huff—You gotta go, Hana-chan . . . Don’t . . . Don’t get killed . . .” 

She pushes him. 

“No!” 

Teru falls— 

—He falls out of the portal with half of his body hanging. 

Teru is really tired. 

Something squeezes his chest tight, an iron press that threatens to crush him. 

It leaves him gasping, reaching with weak arms to fix the pain. 

It spreads like a virus, an excruciating pain that has his body shaking and his brain pleading for mercy. 

Teru opens his eyes. 

He’s in a white laboratory, with books and computers piled upon high tables. 

He can’t focus on anything. 

“What—who are you?!” A girl with a lab coat swishing behind her rises from her chair. 

Her hand rests against her belt, revealing the same balls that Red carries. “I’m serious! Are you the one making those portal things?!” 

Ah. 

He must be in Red’s dimension. 

Teru tries to open his mouth, but all the words turn into wet wheezes and bloody coughs. 

“Hey, are you . . . Are you okay?” 

Teru’s really tired. 

“W-what was that? You look pale . . . why are you hanging upside-down from that portal?” 

His vision darkens around the edges. 

The pain in his chest twists and twists. 

Teru heaves from the agony. 

Worse, all he can hear is the thunderous sound of his heart pounding fast. 

Warm hands hold his face. 

The girl stares at him with narrowed blue eyes, her brow furrowing. “You’re burning up, and your skin has a purplish tint . . . Almost as if a Muk poisoned you.” 

Her voice starts to fade from his ears. 

His sight becomes an indefinable flood of colors. 

Something pulls at his consciousness. 

It lulls him closer and closer to the darkness surrounding the corners of his vision. 

“Wait! This is bad—hold on, I have an antidote somewhere!” 

Teru is really tired. 

He wishes Kageyama was here. 

“No! Don’t go to sleep! You have to stay awake to drink this!” 

But some things can’t be helped. 

“Don’t close your eyes! Come on!” 

Everything is dark. 

“ . . . can’t . . . rescu . . . aliv . . .” 

The pounds from his heart have slowed down, a scattering rhythm that loses meaning. 

It thuds. It thuds. It thuds. 

It thuds . . . it thuds . . . it thuds. 

It thuds . . . it thuds. 

It thuds . . . 

It thuds. 

It stops. 

. . . 

. . .

It’s dark. 

Teru relaxes on a brown couch, snug in the middle of his mom and dad. 

He’s in the living room. 

The only light comes from the scrolling credits of some old movie on the television. 

The soft fabric of his mom’s white work shirt rubs against his skin. 

His dad’s hand runs through his hair. 

Everything is cold. 

“You can rest now,” His dad says. 

“I’m proud of you,” His mom says. 

Despite the lack of warmth, Teru feels comfortable enough. 

The television dims, with the light slowly fading. 

He really wants to close his eyes. 

His blinks grow longer. 

He can hardly see the tv screen. 

Maybe he should just let go . . . 

Suddenly, his phone rings. 

Teru drags open his eyes to look at the screen, frowning as the light from the phone glows bright. 

There’s no caller ID. 

Teru answers the call. 

“Don’t fall asleep.” 

Teru blinks. 

The voice is caustic yet fuzzy, a saffron-colored rumble that pricks at his awareness. 

It’s familiar. 

Teru leans on his mother’s side, adjusting his grip on the phone. “Who are you?” 

“I am the thing you show off. I am the thing you resent. I am the thing you innovate. I am the thing you never change. I am the thing that gives you the charisma that draws the unsuspecting to your chaos. I am the thing that lets you lay awake in the middle of the night wondering why you are so unlovable.” 

“Simply put,” The voice replies. “I am you.” 

The pitch of the voice scratches against his brain. 

“I’m tired.” Teru snuggles deeper into his mother’s arms. “Can’t you leave me alone?” 

“If you fall asleep, you will never wake up again.” The voice warns. 

But Teru is safe and sleepy in his parent’s arms. “It’s okay . . . You can go. I have everything I need here.” 

“But you want more.” The voice buzzes with static. “I want more.” 

“You’re selfish,” Teru whines, pulling at her mom’s sleeve. “Mom, isn’t he being greedy?” 

But his mother stares at the television screen, watching the credits roll. 

Teru tugs at her sleeve. “Mom?” 

He remembers this memory. 

This was back when Teru still lived with his parents. 

They were always busy at work, but on this night, they were free to relax at home and watch a movie with him. 

This was the memory that kept him through all the dark times. 

This was the memory he held onto when his parents traveled abroad and left him. 

This was the memory that gave him hope. 

Teru tugs his mom’s sleeve harder, but she doesn’t respond to him. 

It was such a bright memory. 

He forgot his parents were paying more attention to the movie than him. 

Teru lets go of her sleeve, looking down at his phone. 

“I want to change.” The voice echoes in the dark. “That’s what you said.” 

Teru sits between his parents, cold and lonely. 

The television screen flickers on and off. 

“I want a change.” The voice says. 

If he stays, everything will remain the same. 

“Okay.” Teru gets off the couch. “. . . I’m awake now. How do I leave?” 

“End the call, and I’ll do the rest.” The voice tells him. 

Teru glances back at his parents. 

He waves. “Bye, Dad. Bye, Mom.” 

They don’t acknowledge him, their eyes still glued to the screen. 

Teru’s finger hovers over his phone. 

“Teru,” The voice says. “I enjoy being you, so you can’t rush these things.” 

“When the end reaches us, we’ll meet face to face.” The voice promises. “I’ll tuck you in with a nice memory and soothe your soul with a lullaby.” 

Teru looks down at his phone. 

No caller ID. 

So familiar yet so unknown. “What are you?” 

“End the call, Teru.” 

Teru looks at his phone. 

He ends the call.

Teru gasps to life with liquid dripping out his mouth. 

“You’re back! You’re back!” A girl in a lab coat smiles at him, wiping her lips. 

Teru gulps in the fresh air. 

His lungs spasm in his chest as if this was his first time breathing. 

He gags as the rest of the cold liquid spews onto the floor. 

The girl runs her hands through her pigtails, relief reflecting in her dark eyes. “I thought I was too late, but you’re good . . . I can’t have people dying in the professor’s lab . . . “ 

Teru glances up. 

He’s still hanging from the portal, half of his body in one dimension and the other half in this world. 

Teru tries to speak, but he ends up coughing his throat out. 

“Take it easy. I literally had to resuscitate you!” She slaps his back, her star-shaped earrings swaying in response. “Are you alright?” 

Eventually, the coughs subside, and Teru can move air in and out through his nose. 

Instead of talking, he points at the portal he’s currently hanging out of. 

“Right. I didn’t know if you would get stuck if I had pulled you out completely, so I left you like that. These portals seem like one-way doors . . .” 

His mind is a foggy mess of half-formed thoughts and plans. 

He keeps fixating on the sensation of his heart beating in his chest. 

It goes ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump. 

A wonderful sound. 

Did it . . . Did it really stop? 

“Okay, listen to me!” The girl taps his face with her hands. “I’m looking for a friend. You’re my only lead. I’m taking a big risk right now, but since you came here on death’s door, I’m choosing to trust you.” 

She drags his face closer. “I can trust you, right?” 

Teru nods. 

“Okay. Nod once for no, nod twice for yes.” She takes a deep breath in and exhales. “Do you know who Red is?” 

Teru nods twice. 

“You do?!” The girl cradles his face a little tighter and sways him around. “This is great! You can help me!” 

“If Red asks where all this stuff is from, tell him it’s from ‘Chris’.” She grabs a green book bag and drops the strap in his hand. 

She narrows her eyes. “In two weeks, Professor Oak and all the other Pokédex holders will open the biggest portal in this world. We’ll keep it open for 24 hours.” 

“This is important for him to know!” The girl crosses her arms. “The portal that emits the largest amount of energy in whatever world Red is in will act as an entrance to this world. It’s his one and only ticket to home.” 

She grabs his shoulders and shakes him around. “Promise me you’ll tell him, okay? Please!” 

How overwhelming. 

Teru opens his mouth, the words falling out for him. “Who’s . . . ‘Chris’?” 

The girl smiles, her eyes crinkling from the force. “I am!” 

Teru stares at her, “ . . . And you’re . . . you’re proud of that name . . . ?” 

“Don’t be a jerk!” ‘Chris’ rubs her knuckles against his head—hard. “Be more grateful to the person that saved your life!” 

Right. 

Teru had almost died. 

Teru had died. 

Teru’s mind buzzes at the thought. 

Silence falls upon the lab. 

The beeps of computers and machines monopolize the tension. 

Chris looks away, her brows creasing. 

“ . . . Anyways,” Her mouth crumbles as she pulls at the fringe of her lab coat. “I can’t do anything else for you, so I’m pushing you back into the portal to wherever world you came from. ” 

But a question keeps banging in his head, refusing to give him peace. 

“W-wait!” Teru can hardly piece together the words. “W-why . . . did you save me . . . ?” 

She pauses, a little bit of surprise flickering in her eyes. “Why wouldn’t I save you? You seem like you're worth keeping around.” 

Huh. 

“Alright, I’m pushing you in at the count of three. One, two—“ 

“Three!” 

She shoves him. 

Teru falls in— 

—the rest of his body hits the rocky ground. 

Teru huffs as he rolls away from the portal, his chest heaving from the effort. 

He’s more tired than he was after battling Onyx. 

Teru tries to push himself to his feet, only for him to sway. 

But before he could fall— 

“Alright, got his skinny ass.” A gangly arm wraps around Teru’s torso, lifting him from the ground. 

Someone holds onto him. 

Teru can't see who it is with how they're carrying him, wrapping their arm against his torso. 

Whoever it is, they run through the cave, ducking away from falling rocks. 

Wait . . . falling rocks? 

Teru glances upwards. 

The cave trembles all around them, with pieces of the ceilings collapsing. 

Worse, the blue portals appear and disappear throughout space, taking over the cave. 

“Hana-chan! You’re alive!” 

Teru whirls his head. 

Toga smiles at him, balancing against Red as they run. 

With her sweater gone, Toga is clad in only a dark-red tank top and black beach shorts. 

An array of bruises and wounds spreads over her body. 

The right side of her face is swollen. 

Mud, sludge, and blood dirty her blonde hair. 

She smiles only to wince a second later, rubbing her sore face. 

Teru didn’t realize how much she got hurt in that fight. 

“Where did you go?!” Toga yells at him. “I threw you in a portal to save you, but you disappeared!” 

It isn't assuring to know that she pushed him into a random portal without thinking where it would take him. 

Though, he can’t get too upset. 

If she hadn’t— 

Onyx would have ripped him to shreds right then and there. 

But before Toga can ask him more questions— 

The roof of the cave starts collapsing in chunks. 

Rubble falls into portals, crashing in every which way. 

“We need to get out of here!” Red yells, supporting Toga as they run. 

Red clenches his fists, holding Toga and his yellow mouse with his arms. 

His brow furrows as his eyes darken with emotions. 

He’s pissed. 

Suddenly, a huge boulder falls from above, heading right toward Teru. 

Teru stretches his hand out on instinct, only to get turned around. 

“This isn’t the shit I signed up for.” A rough voice echoes in the cave. 

The figure carrying Teru lifts one hand. 

A stream of vivid azure flames erupts, swallowing up the rubble. 

Teru raises his head. 

A half-crazed smile appears on Dabi’s face as he blasts the rocks away. “Path’s clear.” 

Teru blinks at the sight. 

Why is Dabi carrying him out of the tunnel? 

He glances up at Dabi, only for the man to grimace him. 

“Don’t start making something out of nothing.” He huffs. 

Feathers zip through the air, redirecting the rest of the debris. 

“I’ll hold the rest of the rubble away. It’s time to retreat!” Hawks jumps into sight, his wings deteriorating in size. 

The cave entrance appears in sight. 

Falling rocks start to block the path. 

“Hurry!” Red shouts, pulling him and Toga forward. 

Dabi runs out of the cave— 

The light of the sun blinds Teru’s eyes. 

He releases him from his hold, letting Teru drop onto the sand. 

The sunlight is so bright. 

Teru raises his hand to cover his eyes. 

It seems like he hasn’t seen the sun in days. 

He’s not sure he’s the same person that walked into that cave two hours ago. 

Toga and Red dash out of the cave, following Hawks as he flutters in the air with the last of his feathers. “Alright, roll-call! Who isn’t here?!” 

“Not here mentally!” Oolong whizzes by on a feather, his face pale as he clings to it. 

The sounds of rocks crashing against each other have Teru looking back. 

The last of the rubble falls apart, sealing the entrance to the cave completely. 

“I pulled out all the Team Rocket grunts before the cave collapsed.” Hawks says, pointing to the pile of henchmen groaning on the beach. “No casualties. The only person that escaped was—“ 

“That crazy Onyx lady!” Oolong wails, waving his fist as he walks toward them. 

Teru whips his head. "Onyx e-escaped?" 

"I can't believe it either. One moment, we got her surrounded. The next moment, she was slipping away." Oolong drops a hand on his shoulder. “You should have seen what happened! Red here blasted through the place with that blue frog monster!” 

Oolong gestures to Toga, his face incredulous. “Crazy and I thought we were screwed, but as soon as Red took one look at us, he started raising hell. Grunts were flying, animal things were fleeing, he even punched that commander lady—“ 

“We have bigger problems,” Red cuts in. 

He frowns at the sky, looking at the blue portals appearing and vanishing at random. 

Teru glances down. 

Bruises line across Red’s fist. 

Toga’s brows knit as she follows Teru’s gaze. 

“Those portals are spreading all over the city. There’s no way the pro-heroes on patrol can handle it alone.” Hawks reassembles his feathers as he takes off his jacket. “I have to go.” 

He digs into his jacket, throwing something at Teru. “Catch!” 

Teru snags the small item out of the air and looks down. 

It’s a nutrient bar. 

“Falling in those portals seems to make people tired. We’re thinking there’s some energy transfer involved.“ Hawks shrugs. “Either way, that bar will help you recuperate.” 

“Don’t worry,” Toga whispers next to him. “I ate it, and I didn’t taste any brainwashing chips. It’s legit.” 

Teru grips the energy bar a little tighter. “. . . Thank you.” 

"Yeah," Red says, "We couldn't have pulled everyone out of that cave if it weren't for you." 

But Dabi sneers at them. "You're gonna inflate his head if you keep flattering him." 

He turns around, scowling at Hawks. “Go do your duty, No. 3. We didn’t need you anyway.” 

“Right.” A smile sneaks on Hawks’ face. “See you around, Mr. Dabi.” 

Hawks launches off the beach with a flap of his wings, zooming through the sky in seconds. 

“Toga. Teru. Climb aboard.” Red already has his device thing thrown in the air, releasing the familiar Aerodactyl. “We’re going to U.A.” 

What? 

Teru whips his head. “. . . U.A?” 

“Didn’t you recognize that energy in the air?” Red’s eyes narrow. “It felt familiar to Mob’s aura. Something has to be going down at U.A.” 

Red meets his gaze, his frown deepening. “I know the match with the commander was hard. If you need time to recover—“ 

“I-I’m . . . coming.” 

He can’t leave Kageyama on his own. 

The pain in his chest from the battle might still linger, but it won’t stop him. 

“I’m . . . h-help . . . others …” Teru slurs out. 

Talking hurts. 

But he doesn’t need to talk to fight. 

He hops onto the Aerodactyl’s back. 

He shoves the nutrient bar down his mouth, almost choking on the bland taste. 

Finally, he gives Red the coldest stare he can muster. 

“Alright,” Red shoves his hands into his jacket and looks away. “I’ll let you come.” 

“Good for him, but I’m opting out of the free flight. No offense.” Oolong says, ignoring Aero’s huff. “I’ll hitchhike, or walk . . . or anything else that isn’t flying on that beast.” 

“Huh? Are you sure? I thought you would be more worried.” Red reels back, surprised. 

Oolong turns around. “With Gohan there? Nothing bad is gonna happen! I would be more worried for whoever tried pissing him off.” He steps off the beach, the echo of his laughs floating in the wind. 

Right next to him, Toga climbs onto Aero, sulking. 

For someone that just got rescued from a fight gone wrong, she seems more sullen than she should be. 

Somehow, Toga senses his stare and turns to him, her face conflicted. “Hana-chan . . . when Reddie found us, he got really mad.” 

Teru’s not surprised. Onyx pretty much beat them to the ground. Any decent person would get upset. 

“He got so mad,” Toga twirls the ends of her bangs, her lips thinning. “He punched that commander. He didn’t use any of his animals or anything.” 

Teru raises a brow. 

Wouldn’t any girl want the guy they’re obsessed with to defend them? 

Toga glances at him and scoffs. “Reddie isn’t supposed to do that.” 

A bit of sadness seeps into her gaze. “Reddie shouldn’t do that . . . “ 

Red jumps onto Aero’s back, rubbing his hand against the monster’s skin. “Is everyone ready?” 

“Brat,” Dabi calls out. 

Red turns his head. 

Dabi stands in the middle of the beach, his trench coat blowing in the wind. 

His mouth twists as if the words are painful to say. “Don’t die.” 

The corner of Red’s lip quirks up. “Thanks, Dabi.” 

But as Red turns to the sky, his smile slips away, leaving determination to mold the lines on his face. “Aero, let’s fly!” 

Aero’s wings thrash off the beach, lifting them into the air. 

They soar high as Red guides his Pokémon to dodge the blue portals buzzing around them. 

Red leans closer to Aero, his voice a murmur. “I won’t let anyone else get hurt today.” 

Teru looks down at his hand, adorned with calluses and bruises. 

If he stares too hard, he thinks he’ll hear a caustic voice beckoning him. 

He shakes the thoughts away, holding the book bag on his shoulder tighter. 

He glances at Red and Toga as they face the sky. 

Whatever comes next, Teru won’t be facing it alone. 

At two o’clock in the afternoon, Reigen leaves Hamada-san’s apartment with a new sweater, a hand-me-down (?) wrench, and a family-sized tray full of spicy curry rice. 

With all the heavy ‘exorcism’ work he had done for a good four hours, it was nice to get a little reward for his toils. 

Though, he would have preferred actual monetary payment. 

Dimple flies close to him, glowering at the tray in disgust. “You’re gonna get kicked out of your apartment if you keep accepting payment in food.” 

Reigen dips his finger at the edge of the tray and brings it to his mouth. 

He moans. 

For such an evil lady, Hamada-san is such a good cook. 

“I know how having a job and paying rent works.” Reigen spits out bits of potatoes as he speaks. Oops. 

“Well,” Dimple swivels over to his shoulder. “If you ask nicely, I can possess that hag . . . make her cough up what she owes.” 

But Reigen waves him off, walking down the stairs to the lobby. “Nah, I can’t do that. She might be mean, but sending an old lady to bankruptcy goes against everything I stand for! Besides, the security guard told me that she had a tough life . . .” 

They make it down the lobby, which is suspiciously quieter than it usually is. Reigen doesn’t see any of the security guards or receptionists either. 

Dimple either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. “Grow a spine. You’re setting a bad example for Shigeo. He’s gonna see people walking all over his master and internalize it.” 

Every time Reigen gets reminded that he's a role model now, he dies a little on the inside. 

Considering the fact that he’s been Mob’s mentor for years, it’s surprising he’s still alive. 

Reigen pushes open the door to the apartment complex. “You’re the last person to be lecturing me about setting an example—“ 

Reigen pauses. 

Somehow, while he was helping Hamada-san, the city fell into chaos. 

People rush in crowds, running and screaming through the streets. 

Colorful heroes fly through the skies and roads, yelling out orders. 

Gust from the sky tosses telephone poles, street lights and other utilities into the air. 

Reigen looks up. 

“Dimple, what the hell are those things in the skies?” Reigen points at the blue, bubbly things high up in the air. 

“Those are portals!” Dimple yells. “They must be opening up all around the city!” 

That doesn’t sound good. 

He better make sure Mob is alright. 

Reigen pulls out his phone, clicking on the tracking app he has for Mob. 

He looks at the screen. 

Mob’s phone shows up as inactive. Specifically, ‘Signal is not found.’ 

The location on Mob’s phone should stay active. 

Even if the phone died. 

Sweat rolls down Reigen’s face. 

This isn’t good. 

This isn’t good at all. 

No, he can’t panic! 

He claps his hands, pushing down all his nervousness under a thin veneer of confidence. Things are definitely gonna be alright. Ominous sciencey portals are not a threat to his student’s safety. 

“Okay,” Reigen whirls around to a pale Dimple, ”Since Mob’s phone isn’t working, we need to get to U.A.” 

Dimple gestures at the people screaming and running. “How?” 

Damn. 

Wait— 

Reigen turns around. “Hamada-san has a car!” 

Dimple deadpans. “Can you even drive?” 

“I have a license! I can make it work!” Reigen throws himself into the lobby. 

He runs up the stairs. 

He loses his breath, slowing down as he weakens. 

His tray of curry rice sloshes all over his suit. 

"No!" Reigen rubs at his suit, as the sauce starts to stain his shirt. "This is a rental!" 

As he leans against the railing, heaving huffs of air, he can’t help but wail, “Where the hell are you, Mob?!” 

Somewhere in between the flow of time and space, Kageyama Shigeo lies unconscious. 

Psychic energy pours out his skin like a broken faucet. 

His body falls through an expansive void colored with blue. 

He falls without direction. 

He falls. 

Chapter Text

Darkness.

It's squirming in his throat.

It's pressing against his skin.

It's burning through his veins.

Izuku is drowning in a sea of darkness when he sees the light.

Seven glorious white beams gleam amid the unending darkness.

Izuku can't move.

He tries because that's all he's been good at: Trying.

He wriggles his fingers.

He trudges closer to the shadow for a touch of that light.

Just a touch …

The pads of his fingers skim across the light.

He's almost there . . .

Almost there . . .

Almost—

"Midoriya!"

Izuku cracks awake, eyes flying open.

His mind races.

"Midoriya!" Soft hands grip his shoulders. "Midoriya, you gotta wake up!"

His body shivers.

Pain climbs up and down his body.

He's hot—too hot—sweat keeps rolling down his temple.

He blinks.

"Midoriya!"

He turns around.

Yashiro Nene stares back at him. "Are you listening to me?!"

"Yashiro!" He talks too fast; the stench of smoke hits him. "Ah—Yashiro, what’s going on?!

"I-I don't know! There was that villain, and then Aizawa-sensei told us to leave, and then—and then!" Yashiro doesn't finish.

Instead, the world shakes.

Something booms behind them.

Izuku's heart slams against his chest.

But, a moment later, the shaking subsides, leaving them rattled yet unharmed.

Yashiro grabs hold of his arm, clutching tight. "You have to help me! You know all about quirks, right? Something's wrong with Asui!"

Asui?

He looks around the crumbling room.

He takes in the large sacks of sand, the piles of cinder blocks, and the shoddy ceiling.

Right in a dark corner, a lump of green curls on itself.

Asui Tsuyu huffs, strands of dark green hair sticking against her heated face.

"Asui!" Not even the pain rocketing up his legs can stop him from racing towards her side.

" . . .Too . . . hot . . ." Asui mumbles, her half-lidded eyes gazing at nowhere.

"That's all she's been saying since we got here! I-I don't know what to do!" Yashiro digs her fingers into her arms, trembling. "I've been calling for Hanako, and he hasn't come—he always comes for me! I-I don't know—I don't know!"

"A-Asui!" Izuku's hand lingers on her forehead. "A-Asui has a frog quirk, right?! Maybe—Maybe it's the heat! Frogs can't handle extreme temperatures! We need to get her out of here!"

Yashiro doesn't answer, mumbling panicked words as her face grows wet with sweat and tears.

"Y-Yashiro. Yashiro!" Izuku grabs her shoulders, willing her to look at his eyes. "Listen to me! We're gonna be okay! We'll get out of this, I promise!"

“How?! Hanako isn’t here, and Asui is sick—”

“Look at how hot it is!” Izuku cuts her off, lest she spirals back into her panic. “We must be in the Conflagration Zone! We have to leave, okay?! We just have to escape.”

Yashiro's voice goes shrill with worry, “Midoriya, there were a lot of explosions before you woke up . . . the entire stadium got dark, and everything felt weird, and I-I—ah! What are you doing?!”

Izuku heaves, lifting Asui into a fireman's carry. “Do you have any of the support items you used in the combat trials with you?”

“Huh?” Yashiro blinks back tears. “I-I only have a few glitter bombs since Aizawa-sensei said we didn’t need to bring anything.”

Izuku creeps closer to the wall, stealing a glance through the slit of the door frame.

Villains.

A trio of them walk past the door, snarls adorning their faces.

“There are too many villains outside.” Izuku swings around. “We need to get past them somehow . . . Yashiro—”

“No! No, no, no!” Yashiro’s face turns pale, her eyes widening as she backs away from him. “I can’t do it! I can’t fight those villains!”

Her back hits the wall.

The bang echoes in the air.

They freeze.

A cacophony of explosions and screams ring out from outside, but for a moment—

Neither Yashiro nor Izuku breathe.

The air between them stills.

No one blasts the door open.

Izuku makes the first move and exhales.

Yashiro follows, her voice still shaky. “I-I should stay here. H-Hanako’s gonna come for me soon.”

“What?” Izuku shakes his head, adjusting Asui’s weight on his shoulders, “You don’t—you don’t know that!”

But Yashiro has a shaky smile on her face. “I-I trust Hanako. I-I can’t do it. I can’t fight . . . but it’s okay. Hanako will save me . . . ”

“Yashiro . . .” Izuku starts, but she shakes her head.

“It’s okay . . . you need to help Asui, right?” Yashiro wraps her arms around herself. “I woke you up so you can do that. Go save Asui. I’ll wait here . . .”

Izuku rattles, the decision tearing his heart to two. “I can’t leave you behind!”

But Yashiro manages a trembling smile, even as she huddles in that dark corner. “It’s okay . . . you’re gonna come back for me, or Hanako will get me. It’s okay . . . “

Izuku wants to argue, but Asui starts to cough, her body shuddering from the effort.

“Asui!” Izuku yells, but she doesn't respond.

“Midoriya, come on . . . you have to go.” Yashiro buries her face deeper into her arms. “Please . . . ”

He takes a step back.

Then, two.

Then, three.

Then, four more steps, and his back hits the door.

“I-I’m coming back, Yashiro.” He swears, “As soon as I take Asui to safety, I’ll come back.”

Yashiro doesn’t answer, only giving him a slight nod with watery eyes.

Izuku curses every cell of his body for the single fact that he isn’t All-Might.

He can’t save a thousand people in the blink of an eye.

He can’t even save two of his classmates.

With a thousand regrets weighing down his heart, Izuku opens the door and walks away.

No one is hiding behind a corner, ready to attack him, so he takes a breath.

The moment he sees his surroundings, he loses that breath.

The flames of the Conflagration Zone have twisted out of control.

Gigantic embers curl up the buildings and lash out against the streets.

Luckily, that shelter seems far away from the raging inferno, so Yashiro won’t have to worry about the smoke or fire.

Yashiro . . .

Right. He needs to get Asui to safety and come back for Yashiro.

Izuku pushes through the heated air and marches forward, his back aching with Asui’s weight.

The Conflagration Zone is right between the Flood Zone and the Mountain Zone.

Escaping into the Mountain Zone would be good.

Escaping into the Flood Zone would be ideal.

Either way, he needs to escape the Conflagration Zone without any villains catching him.

It's a rickety, unstable shamble of a plan, but Izuku is out of options.

He races through the landscape, his sneakers slapping against the hot, cracked concrete.

If he wants to keep Asui safe, he has to take the path without any villains.

Somewhere less populated.

Izuku eyes the smoking alleyways between the burning buildings.

He takes a deep breath.

It’s hero or bust.

No other option.

He stumbles close to the first smoke-filled alleyway he sees.

He adjusts his grip on Asui, flattening himself onto the floor as her body lies on his.

The cold oxygenated air is a blessing with how close they are to the ground.

Izuku sucks in a deep breath and crawls.

It only takes a second for his muscles to start burning with pain.

But Izuku crawls anyways.

He reaches the end of the alley.

He peeks his head out of the cover of the buildings.

No villains.

Just like before, he crawls through the smoke filling the alleyway.

When he reaches the end of one alley, he dives into another.

Fire slithers up his ankle on his last dive, turning it into a rough roll.

Izuku braces through the pain and looks up.

Right on the horizon, the signature hills of the Mountain Zone appear.

Hope bubbles in his chest as he rises to his feet.

Only a few steps—he can get help!

His feet start moving.

“Asui! Wake up!” His voice is hoarse from all the energy he spent, all the smoke he’s been inhaling, but Izuku has never been so relieved. “We’re getting you out of here!”

The smoke starts clearing.

Izuku starts running, “We’re almost there, Asui! Don’t worry, we’ll find someone to help you—and Yashiro too! They’ll have a phone too, and we can call for All-Might, and he’ll beat all the bad guys!”

“Asui? Hang on, Asui! We're almost there!”

“Asui? Asui—”

He collides against something hard.

It pushes him to the ground.

Izuku only has a second to shift Asui so he doesn’t fall over her.

Izuku shakes his head, clearing his vision of bright lights.

He looks up.

“Look at that! It’s one of those U.A. brats! I told you they’re still crawling around!”

The man standing over him twirls a metal bat in his hand, a wide vicious smile stretching across his face.

Izuku steps back, only to hear chuckles behind him.

He whips his head around.

He sees them.

Five more villains walk out from the shadows, each sharing a terrible smirk on their faces.

Izuku grits his teeth, lowering his voice. “Asui, can you hear me—”

Something screeches through the air, slicing right across his cheeks.

The force pushes him back, leaving him to stumble and crash onto the ground.

“Ugh . . . Asui!” Izuku glances to the side, only to see her long, green braid tangling with the soil she’s lying on. “Asui, I’m coming—Aah!”

His voice breaks with a scream.

A rugged boot smashes his hand.

Every nerve lights up with pain.

Tears swell up the corner of his eyes.

All Izuku can do is glare at his enemy.

“Don’t ignore us. We came all this way for you kids! Well, you and All-Might!” The villain croons, prompting a mass of cutting laughter from the rest of the criminals.

Izuku can’t move. He can’t fight. He can’t think.

The agonizing laughs of the villains scrape against the walls of his brain.

Mocking him.

Taunting him.

Because after everything, Izuku is still nothing but a worthless Deku—

“Get away from them!”

The world explodes in pink and red.

A gust of air hits his face.

Something spills over him, spreading over in a thin layer of dust.

He blinks open his eyes.

Glitter.

It covers the menacing villains standing over him.

In front of him, the villain sputters, moving away his boot as he coughs out pink glitter. “What the—”

A scream rings out in the air.

A silver bar collides with the criminal’s head, twisting it backward.

The man stumbles.

His body falls, revealing the fury on Yashiro’s face as she grips an iron bar tight. “I-I won’t let you hurt my friends!”

The words pierce through his heart.

She screams again, launching a wide swing that the rest of the villains dodge with ease.

“Stupid—” One of the villains ducks, dodging another of Yashiro’s wild attacks. “—kid!”

It rushes into him without warning: the urge to act.

Izuku shakes the numbness out of his hand as the criminals surround her. “Yashiro, use the other one!”

Somehow, all the stars align because Yashiro’s eyes widen as she catches his meaning.

A villain races towards her.

Yashiro gasps, grabbing another of her glitter bombs and tossing it up.

She swings.

It soars.

It flies straight into the criminal, swallowing him in a fuchsia blast.

“Take that!” She cheers, but the sight of an incoming villain turns it into a shriek, “Midoriya!”

“I’m coming!” Adrenaline melds his pain into determination, and Izuku runs like the wind.

The villain reaches for Yashiro.

Izuku rears his fist, readying a punch.

It doesn’t connect—the man grabs his fist with a wicked smile.

A twack rings in the air.

A second later, the villain slumps forward.

Yashiro stands behind him, clutching her iron bar.

“Midoriya, I—ah!” Something slices through the air, almost cutting her fingers.

Izuku whips his head.

Another villain raises his arm, his skin splintering into a million flesh-colored needles.

One-For-All surges in Izuku’s veins.

Izuku heeds the call.

“Yashiro!” He spins her to his back and lifts his finger.

The villain aims and takes his shot.

But Izuku is faster.

He flicks a finger—just a finger.

The air roars with him.

The man flies in the gust, screaming as he soars into the Conflagration Zone.

Izuku bites his lips, filling his mouth with blood.

If he looks down, he knows he’ll see a mottled finger.

One-For-All is a powerful quirk that Izuku’s body still isn’t used to.

“Midoriya! Two more!” Yashiro wails.

Izuku raises his hand, swiveling to face the two uncertain villains.

He tenses another finger—

Something pink wraps around the two villains, hurling them into the air.

Izuku’s heart stops in his chest.

Asui rises from the ground, her face covered in dirt as she swings the villains around with her tongue.

Their shrieks fill the air as she launches them.

Izuku looks around at the battlefield, only to see that all the villains are down for the count.

Izuku lets out an incredulous huff.

They . . . They won.

“Midoriya-chan. Yashiro-chan.”

As Asui spins around to face them, her long green braid slaps her back.

She tilts her head and stares at them with alert eyes. “I’ve recovered.”

Izuku’s heart pounds against his ribs.

But before he can even say a word—

“Asui!” Yashiro bumps into him, twirling him and Asui into a tight hug. “I was so scared! You weren’t moving and Midoriya and I didn’t know—”

She chokes on a sob.

Izuku’s self-control implodes.

“Asui-sannnnnn,” Tears roll down his face as he tightens the hug, “I’m so glad you’re safe!”

Crushed between their holds, Asui blinks at them. “Thank you for saving me, but I prefer my friends to call me Tsu.”

Izuku and Yashiro blink.

But faced with such a simple request in the middle of an invasion, Izuku can’t help the laugh that falls out of his throat.

“Alright,” he coughs. “I’ll try.”

Yashiro gives her a wobbly, tear-stained smile. “Of course, Tsu!”

Soon enough, the moment passes. Izuku’s heart stops pounding loud enough to block his hearing.

They unpeel themselves from the hug, with him looking around at the empty landscape.

Izuku exhales, and a little bit of his worry seeps out.

They’re still in danger, but at least he can focus on what to do next.

But before he can decide whether finding Aizawa-Sensei or Thirteen is the best bet—

A whitish ball of energy whizzes in front of him.

“Ah!” Izuku steps back, on guard, but the familiarity of the ball has him pausing. “Wait … I’ve seen something like this.”

“Oh, Midoriya,” Yashiro calls out as she runs towards him. “That’s Hakujoudai!”

Hakujoudai?

The white wisp floats until it hovers right above Yashiro’s hand. “Haven’t you noticed the will-o-wisps that hang around Hanako? He might have sent one of them to find me.”

Izuku shuffles the memories of the week in his mind.

He recalls the blurred silhouettes of lights following Hanako’s translucent figure.

Yashiro lets the spirit swirl in her hand, the smile on her face saddening.

“You know … everything that was happening . . . it scared me. It’s not like I was planning on leaving that building.” Yashiro mumbles as strands of her hair splay all over her face. “I thought Hanako would rescue me, but Hakujoudai came instead.”

Yashiro lifts her head, her eyes meeting his. “Hanako can be protective sometimes. So . . . him sending Hakujoudai instead of coming in person . . . It’s Hanako’s way of saying he trusts me to protect myself. I . . . I want to show Hanako that he was right to trust in me. I’m still scared, but I can’t stand by and let my friends get hurt.”

Izuku can understand the sentiment.

He felt the same when that slime villain had attacked Kacchan.

Izuku, even with his quirkless self, had run straight into danger to save Kacchan.

Meeting All-Might made Izuku who he is today.

Without him, he would have been stuck as that quirkless nobody, lost and powerless.

Izuku looks at the resolve simmering in Yashiro’s eyes.

The resolve to save others.

If only she had the strength to go with it . . .

Izuku wishes he could offer Yashiro a quirk to help her just like All-Might did for him.

But for now, all he can say is—

“Don’t worry, Yashiro.” Izuku looks down at his fist, wincing from the pain of his broken finger. “With this quirk, I’ll do better to protect you. You won’t ever be in that situation again!”

He’ll get stronger—strong enough that she won’t feel the need to put herself in danger.

He’ll be a hero for her.

The best hero this world has ever seen.

Izuku looks up, determination burning in his blood.

But the look on Yashiro’s face makes him falter.

Her eyes lose their glimmer as she stares at him with a creased brow.

She takes a step back. “W-what do you mean by that?”

“I mean—I mean I’ll master my quirk so you won’t have to fight,” Izuku replies. “You won’t have to get hurt or anything.”

Yashiro’s lips curl downwards. “I . . . Even if I was safe, I would still fight. As long as my friends are fighting, I want to be by their side to help.”

Izuku’s brows furrow, his mind racing as Yashiro stares at him.

“Be realistic.”

The words All-Might gave to his quirkless self echo in his head as the obvious answer, but at the same time—

“I don’t have cool powers or super strength like my classmates.” Yashiro looks down at the will-o-wisp, her eyes narrowing. “But that doesn’t have to be forever! I can get stronger. I can become someone my friends can rely on.”

Izuku’s frown deepens.

He doesn’t want to upset Yashiro, but at the same time—

“Be realistic.”

Those words are a constant warning flashing in his mind.

“I know the feeling but . . .” Izuku shifts closer to her, arranging his words with care. “You don’t have to be a pro-hero to do that. You can cheer them on and support them on the side where it’s safe—“

“Would you do that?” Yashiro cuts in. “Would you be fine standing around and watching the people you care about get hurt?”

What? “Of course not—“

“Then, why—” Yashiro’s lips thin as she whirls around, her eyes wide and burning. “Why do you think I would be fine with that?!”

Izuku pauses as Yashiro’s breath quickens with her agitation.

Izuku looks down at his hand—the hand with the broken finger.

All the platitudes and consoling rhetoric disappear from his lips.

“Be realistic.”

Somehow, Izuku can't get the words to leave his lips.

Instead, he looks up at her. “I . . . I don’t know what you want me to say, Yashiro. I understand how you feel, but . . . you know . . .”

“Yeah. I remember . . . You think I can’t save anyone because I’m quirkless.” Yashiro looks away, wrapping her arms around herself. “I know I said I’ll change your mind, but . . .”

Yashiro’s lips quiver. “It still hurts to hear you say it anyways.”

Izuku stretches his hand. “Yashiro . . .”

But before he can say anything else, Yashiro closes her eyes.

The frustration on her face wipes away, with a blank facade replaces it. “Okay, Midoriya. I don’t want to fight about this. Let’s . . . Let’s leave it for later.”

“Oh . . .” It’s enough to throw him off, leaving him confused. “O-okay.”

He's next to her, but the distance between them suddenly seems so far.

“Midoriya-chan,” Tsu calls out to him. “I need your help with something.”

Izuku glances at Yashiro, but she turns away, too busy fumbling with her uniform.

Izuku walks over to where Tsu's standing, right at the edge of the Mountain Zone.

For a moment, Tsu doesn’t say anything.

“Sorry,” Tsu finally answers. “I was thinking of the right words to say. I have some bandages in my pack. Let me wrap that broken finger for you.”

Tsu is methodical in her approach, her cold hands cleaning his finger of dirt and pebbles.

“… You want to be like All-Might, don’t you?” Tsu asks him, blinking her big green eyes at him.

Izuku nods. “Y-yeah. I’ve always admired All-Might since—since forever. My dream is to be like him!”

And once he masters One-For-All, he can make that a reality.

But Tsu tilts her head. “I see. But you don’t have to be exactly like him.”

Huh?

Tsu continues as she wraps up his bandages. “It’s what I was saying back on the bus ride. With such a similar quirk, I wondered if you felt pressured to live up to the same standards as All-Might. I thought my words could help relieve that pressure, but I only worsened your mood. I'm sorry about that.”

It feels like days ago when Tsu commented on how similar his quirk was to All-Might on the bus ride to USJ.

He thought that she was probing for the secret behind his quirk, but . . .

Tsu cuts the bandage as she finishes her work. “You’re a kind person, Midoriya. You’re too hard on yourself, though. Is that why you treat Yashiro the way you do? Do you see yourself in her?”

What . . .

On instinct, Izuku turns his head.

Yashiro stands in the distance, a sad expression on her face as she holds Hakujoudai in her palm.

Izuku closes his eyes.

He sees himself.

He sees his old self—clutching the straps of his yellow bookbag, nervous and desperate with rosy eyes.

He wanted to be a hero so bad, despite all the odds stacked against him.

Despite being quirkless.

He wanted to be just like All-Might, but at the same time—

“Be realistic.”

Something quivers in his heart.

He pushes it down.

“Ah, you might have been reading into things,” Izuku scratches his cheek with his free hand. “Yashiro and I had a disagreement earlier. We’re still sorting it out, I guess.”

Tsu croaks, rolling the bandage back into her pack. “You should be nicer to her. Treat your younger classmates like your younger siblings. Don’t argue too much with them. Sometimes, you’re better off letting them win an argument.”

Izuku laughs. “Ha! Do you feel like we’re your siblings, Tsu?”

“We’re not as close obviously,” She crunches her face. “I like my classmates, but my hair would turn white if I had to deal with Bakugou and Kaminari at school and at home.”

The laughter in Izuku’s throat deepens the more he looks at Tsu’s constipated expression.

Even his mildest classmate understands the headache Kacchan can cause.

“Guys, look at this!”

The laughter trails off as Izuku turns around.

It’s a large, bubbly blue portal frizzing in the air.

Blue light reflects in Yashiro’s eyes as she inches closer to the portal . . .

Only to yelp when Tsu’s tongue whips around her waist and pulls her back.

Tsu gives Yashiro an exasperated look. “You can’t touch random shiny things, Yashiro-chan. That might be an enemy portal.”

But Yashiro shakes her head. “No, I saw that smoky villain’s portals, and his were purple. These portals are the ones that took me to Japan!”

“Took you to Japan?” Izuku repeats.

But Yashiro squirms in Tsu’s grip as she points to the portal. “Yep! I fell into these portals, and that’s how I ended up in Mustafatu!”

Tsu’s eyes dart between the portals and Yashiro’s smiling face.

Her brows furrow. “How do you know it wasn’t a villain that created those portals?”

“Actually,” the smile on Yashiro’s face wobbles, “A villain might have made those portals too . . .”

In the blink of an eye, another portal fuzzes into existence.

Then, a third one.

Izuku sees the pattern. “We need to start heading towards the Mountain Zone. Now!”

Yashiro squeaks as Tsu whips her tongue, hopping away from the barrage of portals opening.

Izuku runs as fast, keeping up with Tsu’s quick hops.

All around them, the portals follow them like smoke to a fire.

With each second, the sound of the whooshing portals comes closer.

Something nudges his shoulders, moving him away from the portal that appears.

Izuku glimpses at Hakujoudai as it buzzes next to him.

Yashiro claps, beaming at the will-o-wisp that returns to her side. “Good job, Hakujoudai!”

Izuku lets out a breathy exhale.

But they aren’t out of the woods yet.

Not even close.

A portal bubbles right where Tsu is about to land.

“Portal!” Yashiro screeches as she grabs Tsu’s tongue. “We’re gonna fall in!”

Adrenaline rushes through him, and Izuku boosts his steps.

He sprints, catching Yashiro and Tsu’s arms.

Momentum is against him, and Izuku falls just as fast.

He screams, sinking into the bubbling portal—

—and crashing onto the rough ground.

Izuku jumps to his feet, his blood rushing.

A scream echoes next to him.

He only has a second to whirl around.

Yet, something rushes past him, bowling the source of the scream over.

The dust clears: a villain lies on the ground, knocked out.

Iida pants behind him, his metallic armor shining in the light.

“Iida?!” Izuku looks around, his eyes trying to focus on the chaos. “What’s going on?!”

“W-where are we?” Yashiro rises next to him as Tsu shakes her head.

Yashiro squints, trying to focus on the chaos around them. “How did we get here—ahh!“

A villain rushes close to her, his bat gleaming in the light.

Tsu whips around, twirling her tongue around Yashiro and pulling her out of the way. “Mmph!”

Yashiro snatches the iron rod off the ground and yelps. “Here we go again!”

“Yashiro!” Izuku runs in their direction only to jerk around.

Something white wraps around his waist.

It pulls him backward.

Izuku flies through the air, gliding away from the villains around him.

Something boils in his heart because he knows only one Sensei that uses a capture scarf—

“Midoriya!”

He skids, his sneakers acting as brakes he digs them into the ground.

His bindings loosen.

Izuku turns around, “Aizawa-sensei!”

Black hair swishes in the air as a crooked smile greets him. “Sorry to disappoint, Midoriya, but it’s only me!”

Izuku blinks.

Sero Hanta smiles back at him, though some unease creeps into his grin. “Where the hell did you come from? This zone is swarming with villains!”

Before Izuku can reply, Sero snaps around, blocking the kick of a scowling villain.

“Don’t ignore me, damn it!” A random villain unleashes a flurry of kicks, all of which Sero dodges.

“My bad!” Sero shoots a strip of tape at the criminal’s feet. “Consider this an apology!”

Sero grips the strip and pulls it, sending the villain flying.

“Sero!” Izuku reaches for him.

Something silver reflects in his peripheral vision.

Reflexes take action, and Izuku dodges the sword that almost scrapes his head off.

“Shit!” Izuku lashes out, kicking another villain away.

Someone grabs his arm.

Izuku strikes out.

“Deku—Woah!” Uraraka ducks the punch, her eyes widening, “Deku! I’m so glad you’re okay!”

Relief floods over him, but it’s short-lasting. “Uraraka! Where are we?!”

“The Landslide Zone! Follow me!” She slaps his arm, bringing her fingers together. “I’ll lighten you!”

Her fingers press together.

Gravity’s hold leaves him all at once.

Uraraka doesn’t pause.

She leads him across the rocky field, ducking away from stray attacks.

Izuku sees his classmates—Ojiro blocking a fist, Yaoyorozu parrying a sword, Aoyama ducking behind rocks.

But he can’t make heads or tails of anything.

“Over here!” Uraraka hops in the air, forcing Izuku to follow her path.

She releases her quirk, and they drop to the ground.

Immediately, Izuku shifts forward, leaning against the boulder that hides him from sight.

“Midoriya!”

Izuku sees the gleam of Iida’s hulking armor.

“Iida, crouch down so they won’t see you!” Uraraka whispers.

Iida’s back slams against the boulder. “Midoriya—where did you come from?!”

“I-I came from this blue thing—I think it was a portal.” Izuku wrangles the panic unfolding inside himself. “Yashiro, Tsu, and I fell into it!”

The color on Uraraka ‘s face drains away. “I haven’t seen any portal-opening villains. Iida . . . ?”

But Iida shakes his head, his face full of conflict. “No . . . I’ve seen the portals, but I don’t know who created them.”

Someone should have seen a villain with a portal quirk by now.

Unless . . . the quirk is long-range.

In that case, the villain could be anywhere, a second away from whisking them away.

As if reading his mind, Uraraka bends her head, her eyes getting wider and wider. “We can’t just let this guy carry us off! How are we supposed to stop him if we don’t know where he is?!”

“Uraraka . . . “ Iida rests his hand against her shoulder and squeezes. “We can’t give up.”

Uraraka huffs a heavy breath of air. “I know, I know. Heroes don’t give up . . .”

She raises her head, her eyes reflecting the violence unfolding. “I … I don’t know … I don’t know what to do.”

Iida doesn’t say anything, the grave expression on his face worth a thousand words.

Izuku looks down at his hands, staring at the one index finger that’s mottled purple.

With all the adrenaline running through him, he can hardly feel the pain.

Yet, it’s a sober reminder to keep fighting.

They can’t hide behind this rock forever.

“We just need to rely on the pro-heroes.” Izuku starts, his mind whirring. “The villains cut off our communications, right? The teachers at U.A. will notice sooner or later.”

“You’re right, Midoriya! All-Might and the others will rescue us soon!” Iida wipes the sweat off his face, his eyes gaining more color.

Uraraka bends her head again, her face pinched as she tries to focus her breathing. “Just hold on … right, we can do it … we can do it!”

Izuku manages a small smile at the hope rising from his friends.

“The villains separated us to split our strength, right?” He reasons, his heart growing surer with Uraraka and Iida’s nods. “Then, we need to group back up with the rest of the class, Thirteen, and Aizawa-sensei.”

“But Deku . . .” Uraraka’s lips tremble. “Aizawa-sensei and Thirteen were the closest to the blast . . .”

Izuku can’t help it; he looks back down to the ground.

He can’t follow that trail of thinking.

Because Kacchan was at the epicenter of the blast.

Izuku doesn’t want to think of the worst—he can’t think of it.

Instead, he doubles down on his gut feeling. “I know . . . but look at us! We were pretty close to that explosion, but we weren’t that injured. I think . . . Kageyama protected us, and I have hope he protected our sensei too!”

Uraraka and Iida still look uncertain, but Iida clears his throat. “Either way, we need to find Aizawa-sensei and Thirteen.”

Before Izuku can even think of replying—

The boulder behind them explodes.

The force propels them forward, with Uraraka’s surprised shriek and Iida’s grunt echoing.

Izuku hits the ground, pain rocketing up his shoulder.

He lifts his head.

The shiny glint of a sword appears a hair-breadth away from his eyes.

Izuku stares up at the sword, the air in his throat dissipating as he meets the dark eyes of a villain.

A smack rings out.

The villain collapses, revealing a scratched-up Ojirou. “Midoriya, are you alright? You can’t lose focus in the middle of the battle!”

He pulls Izuku up with his long tail, leaving him to gasp out.

“I-I’m okay!” he gasps out.

A second later, Yaoyorozu whirls until she’s leaning against his back.

She blocks a villain's attack with a heavy iron shield. “If we whittle down the number of villains, we could overpower them!”

Izuku spins around, his eyes meeting a villain dashing close to them. “Yaoyorozu, watch out!”

Izuku braces himself, stretching his arm and flicking his finger.

The pain burns through him, squeezing him tight until there are dark spots in his vision.

But the blast—

The blast swallows all the villains in its path.

It's a funneled burst of force that leaves them spiraling into the sky.

For a second, the battlefield is quiet.

Izuku is aware of all the villains pausing, reassessing him with steady eyes.

Then—

“Midoriya! Your fingers!” Yaoyorozu is in front of him, a bandage rolling out from her side.

Another scream rings out, and the battle resumes again.

Except this time, Yaoyorozu drags him away.

Izuku’s head swirls with pain.

He can hardly focus on the tight grip Yaoyorozu has on his arm.

“Midoriya, that blast was unnecessary!” Her face crumples with concern. “You can’t injure yourself like that!”

Izuku blinks, finding himself crouched behind a rock.

Yaoyorozu’s hands shake as she spins the bandage around his hand.

Izuku swallows the blood swishing around in his mouth. “I-It took out most of the villains. That’s—that’s what matters.”

Yaoyorozu’s dark eyes gleam with concern. “Midoriya . . . We can talk about this later.”

Her eyes narrow as she reaches for her torso. “For now, we need to defend ourselves from this invasion and assure the safety of all our classmates.”

Like Arthur pulling Excelsior from the stone, Yaoyorozu draws out a sword from her torso.

It’s huge, with the steel sparkling from the glow of her quirk.

Yaoyorozu turns to him, determination flowing through her dark eyes. “Do you have any experience in using a longsword?”

What? “N-no—”

Something screeches.

Right on time, Yaoyorozu swivels around, blocking an enemy’s swipe with her sword. “Here! Use this to defend yourself!”

Yaoyorozu tosses the iron shield at him, with Izuku struggling to catch it in his grip.

What . . . What is he supposed to do with this?!

“Yaoyorozu!” Izuku follows behind as she kicks a villain away. “Yaoyorozu, I—“

“Most of our classmates are here in the Landslide Zone. I’ve seen you, Uraraka, Iida, Aoyama, Ojiro, and Sero.” Yaoyorozu interrupts, slamming the hilt of her sword against a villain.

Izuku scurries around her, dodging the stray swipe that comes close to him. “I-I fell here with Tsu and Yashiro!”

“Those portals brought you, right?” She lands another kick, never pausing. “Sero told me about them. He was in the Mountain Zone with Kouda and Shoji, but he ended up here.”

“Then, the portals are all over the stadium?!”

The energy needed to pull off such a feat would be insane.

Worse, they still don’t know who is making these portals.

Izuku can’t help but gulp.

The villain they’re dealing with may be more powerful than they imagined.

“Ojirou told me Tokoyami might be in the Ruins Zone. Otherwise, Kaminari, Todoroki, and Jirou are the other classmates I lost track of.” Yaoyorozu glances at him. “Please tell me you’ve seen them.”

Izuku shakes his head. “I haven’t, but you didn’t mention where everyone else was, did you?”

Yaoyorozu . . .

Yaoyorozu pauses.

Her grip on her sword tightens.

Her lips thin.

Conflict swirls in her eyes. “I know where they are. Kirishima and Ashido are in the Flood Zone. But . . .”

Her voice cracks. “Bakugou . . .”

“No.” Izuku stops her there. “Kacchan is alright! Kageyama protected us from that blast, Kacchan included.”

Yaoyorozu whips her head. “Midoriya, you were unconscious in the aftermath of that explosion! I saw it happen. After the dust cleared, Bakugou was—“

A shadow falls over her.

Izuku heaves the shield up.

He grunts, blocking a villain’s attack right on time.

“Midoriya!” Yaoyorozu shouts.

“Ugh!” Izuku slams his feet against the ground, pushing with the shield.

“Kacchan . . .” He huffs. “All Kacchan wants is to be the number one hero. Not even death can stop him!”

He grunts, shoving the villain aside.

He turns around to see the look of surprise plastered on Yaoyorozu’s face. “Kacchan won’t die here!”

Yaoyorozu stares at him, her lips wobbling.

The battlefield roars behind them.

The surprise on her face melts away, with too many emotions simmering in her dark eyes for Izuku to decipher. “ . . . Okay. Let’s . . . Let’s come up with a plan to alert the other pro-heroes then.”

But before she can say anything more, a slender tendril of darkness slithers next to their feet.

Izuku, once again, springs up, holding onto Yaoyorozu.

The tendril doubles.

And then, triples.

Izuku lets go of the heavy shield, freeing his hands to attack.

A web of darkness protrudes out of nowhere.

The darkness stirs.

Yellow bright eyes blink at them.

“Oh.” The swirling dark mass solidifies, forming a man wearing a dark suit. “It seems our men were no match for you students.”

Izuku inches a step back, taking a second to glance around the battlefield.

Scattered bodies of grunts litter the rocky landscape.

Ojiro and Sero slow their movements, with Sero still holding a taped-up villain.

Yashiro clings to Tsu as they gawk at the villain.

Uraraka and Iida stand further away, eyes widening.

Uraraka’s round face crumples with terror.

Izuku clenches his fist and glances back at the villain.

“My mission was to round up any lingering students and bring them to my master.” The villain shifts, his expression indecipherable without the pupils in his yellow sclera. “But there are too many survivors here.”

He raises his arm, and a swirling mass of black leaks out from the appendage. “I will have to cut you down to size.”

“I won’t let you!” Izuku screams, pushing Yaoyorozu aside as he launches another finger flick.

His finger cracks from the force.

Blood leaks from his lips with how hard Izuku bites his tongue.

The blast launches him backward, racing toward the villain.

But before it can hit—

The villain raises that smoky swirl, and it expands.

Bigger.

Bigger.

Bigger.

It swallows Izuku’s blast in a swirl of shadows.

The mass of darkness shifts until it resembles an arm again.

The villain stares at him. “Such a violent attack. I would expect something like that from a villain.”

Izuku grits his teeth, bearing through the pain twisting underneath his skin.

“Your quirk … you created portals…” Something unnameable buzzes in his head. “You’re him, aren’t you? The villain that’s been opening those blue portals?!”

“Blue portals?” The villain whirls its head. “Those are the portals coming from Nomu-1432AZ8. Unless . . . the portals open even without its prompt? Regardless . . .”

“Midoriya, stand back!” Yaoyorozu clutches his arm.

But Izuku isn’t listening.

How can he listen when that villain stares at him like that?

Those nebulous yellow eyes piercing his soul.

It lingers at the edge of his consciousness, biting for recognition.

His eyes widen.

Time pauses.

This feeling—

“Midoriya Izuku. Do you remember me?” The villain asks.

—he knows this villain.

He knows him, but he can’t remember.

“. . . Why?!” It’s scraping at his scalp. It’s begging for his acknowledgment, but Izuku—

Can’t—

Give—

It—

“Who the hell are you?!” The word rushes out of his throat, leaving Izuku breathless in the middle of the battlefield.

Yaoyorozu and Sero and Ojiro and Yashiro and Tsu and Iida and Uraraka—They’re all staring at him.

As if something is wrong with him.

He wants to claw his scalp, force the memories out.

Something is wrong with him.

“I am Kurogiri.” The villain—Izuku refuses to name him—answers. “Maybe the other one did something to your memories, but I assure you we’ve met—“

“Liar!” Izuku screeches, lifting another finger and flicking it.

The villain disappears in another mass of smoke, but Izuku doesn’t stop.

He runs, putting all his focus on his target.

He looks, and looks, and looks—

“It is good to see you healthy.” The villain emerges from behind a boulder. “The last time I saw you … that doesn’t matter now. What matters is that you found it—“

Izuku spins on his feet, switching to his other hand.

He lets out another finger flick, but the villain disappears.

“Stop moving!” Izuku’s heart flies out of his chest.

He rushes through the cascade of rocks that towers above him.

Where is he? Where is he? Where is he—

“The will to live. That’s why you’re here, fighting to survive.” The villain breathes beside him.

“Fu—“ Izuku jumps away, sending another blast in one shuttering motion.

Kurogiri disappears again.

His voice lingers like the morning dew. “. . . Or am I mistaken? It looks a little similar—fighting for your life versus fighting for the lives of others.”

Izuku spins around, his heart pounding, but he can’t find the voice.

It swirls around the towering, dusty boulders. It slips through the cracks of the ground. It circles in the dry air.

“The last time I met you, you didn’t have a quirk.”

The villain’s hand tightens on Izuku’s shoulder.

Izuku can’t move.

Izuku can’t breathe.

“Yet, you have a quirk now. You have friends. You have a dream. You have something to live for.”

His hands throb.

His head burns.

Every atom of his body shakes like a leaf hanging on a naked branch in the middle of a hurricane.

The villain—Kurogiri the villain—holds his shoulder tighter. “But the conundrum still exists. The very thing that led to our meeting.”

Izuku can’t move.

An indescribable, invidious emotion holds him in place.

“Do you want to live, Midoriya Izuku, or do you want to be useful?”

“Deku!”

Izuku swivels around at the sound of Uraraka’s voice.

She falls through the air, fury coating her face as she launches forward and pushes them through a portal—

—Leaving Izuku to land smack against his back.

“I got you!” Uraraka's boot lands on Kurogiri, her hand touching the metal brace around his neck. “Activate!”

Kurogiri floats through the air, his body a mass of shadows.

But he narrows those yellow eyes, his body widening before disappearing entirely.

“Midoriya!” Iida and Yashiro scramble over the jagged landscape to reach his side. “Midoriya, are you okay?”

Izuku looks around.

Uraraka pants, her hair falling all over her face.

Iida’s cracked glasses sit crooked as he grips his arms.

Yashiro buzzes around, concern vibrating off her body.

“How did you—“ Izuku’s throat burns, “How did you reach me?”

In his rage—or his panic—he had ended up far from his classmates.

But Uraraka sends him a trembling smile, “We heard what that villain said about the blue portals. It’s not his! Yashiro said you guys ended up in this zone from that portal. So, if those portals took you here—“

“You jumped in the portals to reach me.” Izuku swallows, his throat hurting. “Uraraka, how could you do that?! So many things could have gone wrong!”

“I tried to warn her,” Iida coughs, “But if she arrived any later . . . Uraraka most likely made the right decision.”

Uraraka wipes the dirt covering her face on her sleeve, her eyes squeezing. “I only had to jump through one portal to find you. I'm a little tired, but it’s fine! You’re safe!”

Izuku shakes his head. “That’s not good! We don’t know what those portals could have done to you!“

“Hey, we don’t have to fight!” Yashiro hops between them, flailing her arms left and right. “It’s safe, Midoriya. That’s how I came here anyways!”

Izuku blinks at her. “What?”

“I’ve fallen through those portals before!” Yashiro’s pale hair shakes as she gives them a little smile. “It’s why I’m in this world—“

“Midoriya!” Yaoyorozu’s shouts cut through Yashiro’s words as she stumbles on the rough terrain. “Watch out for the other portals!”

It’s a second.

Only a second of hesitation.

Izuku turns around.

A vibrant burst of blue fills his vision.

A portal opens underneath Uraraka’s feet.

Izuku’s body moves, his hand stretching to grab her.

He leans forward.

“Uraraka!”

He falls.

Izuku falls.

He falls, and falls, and falls—

—And crashes against a table, the impact shattering it into pieces.

Wood pricks carve into his skin like broken glass.

Yet, none of it compares to the agony of his broken hand slamming against the tiled floor.

“Aah!” The pain spasms and throbs, lighting his body on fire. “F . . . fuck . . . “

A soft hand grips his arm, pulling him upwards. “C’mon, Deku . . .”

“Midoriya . . .” Iida whispers, as his gloved hand latches onto Izuku’s other arm, “Can you stand . . .?”

“I-Iida, I can’t . . .” Izuku coughs, the sound bouncing against the walls of his lungs. “Uraraka, I-I need a boost. . .”

Izuku trails off, finally noticing the scene before him.

Flames roaring from the sconces nailed to the walls submerge the room in a warm glow. Stone bricks and mud blocks protrude from the walls, all stained with notches and marks. There isn’t a single window in sight, and the closest door seems almost a mile away.

It's almost like they’re in a cave.

A cave full of people.

Izuku gawks at the mismatch of blue, green, and gray clothes that peek out from worn armor.

At least thirty different men crowd the small room, shock lining their faces and light reflecting off their swords.

Izuku glances at his friends, noting the unease on Iida’s face and the exhaustion in Uraraka’s eyes.

He steps backwards.

The remains of the table crunch underneath his feet.

The blue bubbly portal fizzes out of existence.

The tension cracks apart.

One of the men springs forward. “Who are you? Where did you come from?!”

Before Izuku can even think of replying, another man shoots up, terror shriveling his face. “Don’t ask stupid questions! Look at them . . . they’re spirits!”

The room breaks out in noise.

A horde of discord suffocating him.

Izuku raises a trembling arm upwards.

The cacophony rises, like the roar of a fire, until someone pushes through the crowd, dressed in the fumes of anger.

“You came out of that . . . that thing, didn't you?! They were all over the Earth Kingdom a month ago.” He’s younger than most of the men around them, his rage spreading across his tanned skin. “You must have made those things!”

“We didn’t!” Iida cries out, his fists tightening. “Villains attacked us! We fell into the portals they made.”

The crowd shuffles and shifts as another man walks forward.

A mottled, pink burn scar etches the left side of his face. “What do spirits want with the Avatar?”

A low pitch rings in Izuku’s head.

It buzzes, rattling every single cell in his brain.

“W-we’re not … huff … spirits . . .” Uraraka coughs, resting her weight on Izuku’s shoulder. “Don’t lie to me!” The other man rages, his face wrinkling as he yells, “I know you took my sister! Give her back!”

He takes a step forward, his hand reaching towards the sword hanging by his waist.

Izuku’s heart keeps pounding, pounding—

Pounding.

The words crawl out of his throat. “Don’t come closer!”

The air in the room freezes.

It thickens as Izuku holds his middle finger against his thumb. “D-don‘t make me use my quirk!”

The man with the burn scar glares at him, his face set in a frown reminiscent of Todoroki’s.

Izuku swallows a gulp of the tense air.

“Midoriya!” Iida grabs his shoulder, his face wrinkling as he looks between him and the crowd. “We can’t threaten civilians!”

“Iida . . .” Uraraka’s lips thin, the light in her eyes dimming as her hands shake, “... T-these people … d-don’t look like …. ci-civilians … ”

For a moment, the energy in the room convulses as Izuku stares the group of men—the group of villains—down.

Something—Something—moves.

His heart flings against his chest.

Izuku flicks his finger.

It cracks the bone to pieces.

“Shit! Get back—”

The room in front of him explodes.

Chunks of rocks burst from the impact, shrouding the room in dust.

He swivels his head.

Giant columns of rocks roar from the cave walls.

An earth quirk.

Someone fast and strong enough to erect a barrier—

“Midoriya!” Iida launches into his vision, the engines in his thigh smoking.

His leg swipes through the boulder flying right towards him.

Iida rolls to a stop, his glasses smudged with dirt. “Midoriya! Are you alright?!”

The ground starts to rumble.

Izuku only has a second to gather himself when an earthen wall bursts from the ground, separating him and Iida from the scattering crowd.

A loud, girlish voice carries over the chaos. “You bumble heads can evacuate everyone! I’ll deal with these two!”

Izuku glances at Iida, his mind rushing with all the possibilities that might come next.

“Toph, you can’t just take both of them on—“

The havoc behind the wall starts to flow towards the end of the room as the voice cuts itself off.

“Go! Leave it to me!”

All of a sudden, the earth wall crashes down.

A cloud of dust and dirt fills the room, blocking Izuku’s sight.

But he doesn’t move, his body stiffening in anticipation.

“Who’s there?” Iida shouts out to the void.

A dark silhouette forms in the midst of the shroud.

The dust settles.

It reveals the other side of the room, ravaged, with toppled chairs, swinging lights, and rocky ridges that rise from the ground.

A little girl stands in the middle of the room.

With a long-brimmed hat covering her dark hair, the little girl clenches her fists, resting them by the sides of her pale yellow and green dress.

She lifts her head, uncovering her milky white eyes.

Izuku loosens his stance, gaping at the blind girl in front of him.

On her other side, the tanned man lifts his sword from his scabbard, his eyes narrowing. “I’m not leaving, Toph. Zuko can help evacuate the others, but I’m not leaving.”

“Fine,” The blind girl—Toph—exhales. “But I’m not gonna need your help, Sokka.”

She stands straighter, shifting towards them as her feet spread out on the ground. “I don’t know what type of spirits you guys are, and I don’t really care. But you have my friends.”

She raises her chin, her face rigid like the taut string of a pulled bow.

“I want them back.”

She drags one foot in the dirt.

The earth roars in response.

A giant slab of a boulder slides towards them like a flicked domino piece.

Izuku hops out of the way.

Iida yelps beside him.

Izuku whirls around. “Iida!”

An instant mistake.

Something snags him.

He falls to the ground, a column of earth growing over his ankle.

Izuku whips his head.

The girl—Toph—lowers her knees.

She swings her hand upward.

The ground follows, launching him towards the ceiling.

“Midoriya!” Iida flies through the air and grabs him.

For the one second they’re above ground, vulnerable, Izuku braces himself for another attack.

But Toph pushes one foot against the ground, her face grimacing.

She doesn’t attack.

As soon as Iida lands, Toph shifts towards him, her feet spinning around.

“Watch out!” Izuku pushes Iida out of the way, dodging the boulder that erupts out of the wall behind them.

“We don’t mean any harm!” Iida holds onto Izuku as he races across the room, the engines in his leg working overtime. “But if you attack us again, you’ll leave us no choice but to defend ourselves—”

“Shut up!” Toph sends another cascade of rocks that Iida barely jumps over.

She brings forth an avalanche, her feet sliding left and right.

Left and right . . .

“Iida,” Izuku calls out, “See how she’s moving? Her quirk lets her control the earth. She can’t see us, so she tracks our movements from the ground!”

“Then, let’s stay off the ground!” Iida yells, dodging another rock ledge with a jump.

He takes a sharp turn, leading them right in Uraraka’s direction.

They must have gotten separated in the chaos.

Dust dirties Uraraka’s pink hero costume, with scratches etched into the soft paddings.

Her back is against the wall, the furrow between her eyebrows growing deeper, restless from the stare-off with the man from before.

“W-we don’t … have to fight.” Uraraka huffs, her exhaustion raising sirens in Izuku’s mind. “C-can’t we work something out?”

The man narrows his eyes as he keeps his hand on the hilt of his sword. “Depends. Tell me where you took my sister. Is she in the spirit world?”

The uneasy smile on Uraraka’s face slides off, “I-I don’t know what that is!”

“Iida!” Izuku’s mind whirs, “Can you grab Uraraka?”

Iida doesn’t bother replying, the gleam in his glasses brightening as he swerves towards her.

Uraraka glances out of the corner of her eyes, startling when she sees Izuku stretching out his hand.

“Uraraka, your quirk!”

Uraraka’s face tightens with determination.

Izuku grabs her.

She grips Iida’s armor and brings her fingers together. “Activate!”

Gravity releases its hold on them.

They soar into the air.

As they glide upwards, Izuku looks down at the man staring at them with wide eyes.

Yet, they’re still at a standstill.

They have to finish the battle entirely.

Izuku gazes over the room, mapping the trajectory in his head. “Uraraka, you think you can reach them if Iida steers us around?”

Uraraka meets Iida’s gaze, before looking back at him, resolute. “I’ll do it!”

“I might be able to bring us close to them. I have been practicing a move for a while . . .” Iida glasses reflect the fire burning from the scones. “I can only do it once, but it's our best chance at stopping their attacks.”

“Then, let's do it.” If it comes down to it, Izuku will break the rest of his fingers to keep his friends safe.

“Toph, they’re in the air!” The man calls out from the ground, running to keep track of them. “They’re floating, but I don’t think they can keep it up for long.”

“Got it!” Toph snaps, stomping her feet. “I’ll smoke them out.”

Something buzzes in Izuku’s ear.

He pulls Iida’s armor to the left by an inch.

Just an inch.

An earth spike scraps his cheek, piercing the space they had just occupied half a second ago.

Toph’s head swivels. “Found you!”

“Deku!” Uraraka’s eyes widen.

They have to do it.

Now!

Izuku lunges for the earth spike, pulling them around. “Iida!”

Iida’s foot lands on the spike, his engines glowing blue and hot.

“Recipro Burst!”

The earth cracks underneath his feet.

They launch forward, racing through the air.

Wind slices against Izuku’s face, his eyes burning from their velocity.

Shock erupts on Toph’s face as Uraraka taps her.

They fly towards the man but he recovers fast, ducking away with a shout.

Iida’s engines sputter out, smoke and exhaust leaking.

Izuku inhales, readying himself for the crash landing.

They crash.

He tumbles on the ground, his body jostling from the impact.

Iida groans, his face wrinkling as he lays crumpled up by his side.

Uraraka—

“Did you just slap me?!”

Izuku raises his head.

Toph’s cheek burns with a red handprint.

Uraraka is half-crouched on the ground, her face tense as she raises her fingers. “I’m sorry but … ”

Toph shifts her feet.

The earth rises.

“Activate!”

The earth spike spiraling forward stops a hair's breadth away from the bridge of Uraraka’s nose.

“Huh?” Toph’s eyes widen as she starts to float upwards. “What’s going on?! I can’t feel the ground!”

Uraraka slumps downwards, breathing hard as she rubs her nose. “T-that … that was too close … way too close …”

Izuku’s heart is still thumping, the beat slamming in his head.

If Uraraka had activated her quirk even a second too late . . .

Something swells in his throat, unbudgeable.

Uraraka pushes herself off the ground, caution on her face as Toph fumbles in the air.

“Let me go, you stupid spirit!” Toph shouts, her arms and legs flailing.

Uraraka’s quirk removes the force of gravity on a person’s body.

That being said, Toph would have eventually floated down to the ground had she stayed still.

But the realization never comes to her as Toph struggles in the air, her constant movement keeping her floating between the ground and the ceiling.

“I-I meant what I said about not wanting to fight!” Uraraka’s brow furrows, her lips thinning. ”I just want to talk.”

“I’ll talk when you give me back my friends! Let me go!” Toph swipes at the air.

Uraraka steps a bit closer, “Please, I-I think I might know what you’re talking about. I’ll let you go if you promise to hear me out—”

There it is again.

That feeling.

It comes between that nanosecond of Uraraka’s face squeezing at Toph’s distress, her hands shifting, as if to release her quirk.

It arrives as Izuku lifts himself up, stretching his arm to hold Uraraka back.

He felt it before, time slowing down enough for him to process it.

The feeling of danger.

“Uraraka!” Izuku pushes her to the side, rolling them across the ground.

The back of his neck peels with heat.

Flames.

Vibrant spirals of fire burn right above them.

They peter out and Izuku is quick, Uraraka following him.

“What did you do to Toph?!” The man with the burn scar is back, kicking fire balls at their path.

Izuku swerves away, only for Uraraka to drag him backwards.

He dips down.

The shiny gleam of a sword sweeps in an arc, cutting the very tip of his curls.

Izuku sees the blue, angry eyes before the sword changes direction.

A shadow falls over him.

A metal screech rings out in the air.

The shine of Iida’s armor glows in the cave as he blocks the sword. “I won’t let a villain like you hurt my friends!”

If the tanned man wasn’t mad before, he is now. “I’m the villain?! You’re the ones going around—”

He swings the sword, almost haphazardly, and it bounces against Iida’s armor.

“—kidnapping innocent people! I don’t care how many of you I’ll have to take down! I don’t care if all the spirits from the Spirit World starts flooding down here—”

Another short swing, this time from the side. Iida turns around, blocking it.

“I won’t stop until you bring them back!”

The force of his swing makes Iida stumble, revealing his back completely.

Izuku is running, running to save his friend.

He’s raising his arm, ready to sacrifice anything to One-For-All—

The man raises his sword again.

“I won’t stop until you bring back my sister—”

.

.

.

“Oh wow! I didn’t know it could do that!”

Silence.

The sword hangs in the air.

Izuku stops running.

Iida turns around.

But the man doesn’t move.

All he does is stare.

“Well, only some models can. My phone isn’t all that new. Jeez . . . the video’s probably gonna be all blurry…”

It’s Uraraka’s voice coming out of her phone, light and cheery and maybe even a bit embarrassed.

The current Uraraka stands with panic in her eyes, stretching her arm out to show the video on her battered phone.

The man stares at the phone, his arms shaking as he lowers his sword.

On the screen, Katara taps the camera with a curious gaze, her smile becoming skittish when it starts to shake. “Uraraka, it just did something weird. I didn’t break it, right?”

“K-katara . . .” The sword drops against the ground.

“She’s your sister, right?!” Uraraka’s arm is still shaking. “You guys look alike, and you both have the same way of speaking—”

“Sokka would love these things,” Katara’s smile shines through the blurry screen. “Ever since he was little, he was always interested in everything science-related.”

On the screen, she’s wearing her hero uniform, one hand stretched out to block out the harsh sunlight.

It must have been from the day of the battle combat trials.

Uraraka, from that day, hooks her arm with Katara, her smile growing wider. “I didn’t know you had a brother!”

The smile on Katara’s face dims as she looks away from the camera, but her eyes never lose its glow. “Yeah, we’re separated at the moment but . . . I’ll see him again soon. I’m sure of it.”

“We all want the same thing,” Uraraka’s voice fills the cave. “To stop the villain making those portals.”

The tanned man, Katara’s brother—Sokka—swallows air, his eyes still fixed on the phone in Uraraka’s hand.

“You’re not lying.”

Izuku whirls around to see Toph back on the ground, her hands gripping the man with the burn scar.

She frowns at them, her face twisted. “I can feel people’s heartbeat through the earth’s vibrations, so I can tell when someone’s lying.”

“If you have heartbeats, then you’re not spirits, but that doesn’t explain the weird powers.” The man with the burn scars narrows his eyes. “Who are you guys?”

But Katara’s brother—Sokka—cuts through the tense air with a strangled voice. “L-let me see it.”

A heavy silence drops between the six of them.

Yet, Uraraka walks up to him, dropping her phone in his hands as the video keeps looping.

Sokka palms the phone between his two hands, staring hard at it. “What is this?”

“Um …” Uraraka fumbles with her bracelets. “A phone? I recorded that video a few days ago, but I have more pictures—”

“If we’re not fighting anymore,” Toph interrupts, her face squeezing as she pulls the man’s sleeve tighter. “Can you stop whatever floaty thing you did to me? I’d like to have my feet permanently on the ground again.”

“Sorry.” Uraraka presses her fingers together and Toph drops onto the ground, her feet slamming into the earth.

With that, Iida takes his cue, stretching his hand out to the man Toph was holding onto. “My name is Iida Tenya, and my friends behind me are Uraraka Ochako and Midoriya Izuku! We’re from U.A, and we apologize for the intrusion!”

Iida attempts to bow, but the stranger cuts in, discomfort all over his face.

“Um, no need for that. I’m Zuko …”

Zuko trails off, his face uncertain as he gestures to Toph. “This is Toph…”

It’s a moment of awkwardness between everyone as Zuko scratches his neck, Toph stares into space, Uraraka twists her fingers, and Iida furrows his brows.

It’s confusing, and almost shameful at the same time as the thought runs through Izuku’s mind.

How could I have ever thought these guys were villains?

Even as mere strangers, the exhaustion under their eyes and the baby fat hanging around their cheeks stands out like a sore thumb.

Would All-Might have jumped to conclusions? Would he have attacked without thinking? Would he have fallen in those portals in the first place?

Izuku knows the answers to these questions.

He knows and it makes his face burn because it only proves how little of a hero he is compared to All-Might.

He has to do better.

“Earlier,” Zuko breaks up the silence as his voice fills the cave. “You called those blue gates by a name … something called portals?”

Uraraka glances over to him, her face nervous. “Deku, that villain was talking to you about them, right?”

Zuko turns to face him, the full intensity of that glare directed solely towards him.

Izuku swallows the air stuck in his throat. “… I’m sure of it … one of the villains that invaded U.A created those blue portals. If anyone enters them, they’ll transport them to a different location. That’s how we ended up here.”

“Then, Katara and Aang ended up where you guys were, right?” Toph asks, a hint of excitement crawling up her voice for the first time since he met her. “So, let's just go there and get them!”

But Zuko tightens his grip on her shoulder, “Hold on, we don’t even know if we can trust them—“

“I can tell they’re not lying.” Toph rebuts, slapping Zuko’s palm, “Besides, we can always beat them up.”

That statement sparks another flare of tension between the group.

“None of us want another fight between us!” Izuku steps forward, his heart beating as all three of them turn their attention towards him.

His heart wobbles in his throat and his eyes start to swell with moisture. “I-I’m sorry I attacked your group. I-I rushed in and it was stupid and I wasn’t thinking!”

He glances back at Uraraka and Iida, noticing their crestfallen faces.

“I can understand if you can’t forgive me, but please don’t take it out on my friends! Uraraka and Iida … It’s my fault they ended up fighting—”

“Hey, it-it’s okay.” A warm hand rests on his shoulder.

Izuku looks up, his vision blurred through tears, to see the tanned teen—Sokka—patting him as his face twists with discomfort.

“Um … there, there. Y-you’re forgiven. Nobody got hurt and we can always schedule another war meeting.” Sokka’s face shrivels deeper as Izuku sniffs especially hard. “Please stop crying.”

Iida rests a firm hand on his back. “We’re all struggling though this, Midoriya, but we’ll get through it together.”

Another hand joins Iida’s, and Uraraka’s face pops into view. “Iida’s right, Deku! We’ll survive this and become better heroes in the process!”

Izuku rubs at his eyes as the anxiety weighing down his heart becomes lighter.

“You’re right … I can’t do anything if I keep agonizing over my mistakes.” Izuku dries the rest of his tears away with his gloves. “Iida. Uraraka …Thank you. I’ll do better from now on.”

Uraraka and Iida nod, their eyes both misty and determined.

Zuko coughs into his hand, the sound noticeably loud. “ . . . So. Wherever you guys are from, we can find whoever is involved in making those portals, right?”

“They’re currently invading our school, U.A, at the moment.” Izuku frowns. “Since you guys don’t know much about quirks, I’m guessing we’re nowhere close to Japan.”

“Japan? U.A? Is that where Katara and Aang are?” Sokka asks, his brows furrowing.

At Izuku’s nod, Zuko’s brow knits deeper. “We should discuss this more in the strategy room. If you can point to it on a map, we can find a way to get there.”

With that, they leave the broken chaos of the meeting room, following Zuko’s steps through a cave tunnel.

As close as he is to Uraraka, he can’t miss her heavy breaths.

“ . . . Uraraka,” Izuku lowers his voice as much as he can, “You've been breathing harder since we fell through that portal. Are you okay …?”

“It’s fine.” Uraraka waves him off. “I was a bit tired, but I’m feeling better.”

Izuku glances over to Iida, sharing the same looks of worry.

As Izuku huddles close to Uraraka and Iida, he studies the layout of the cave.

Chiseled rocks surround them in a perfect arc, with the only light illuminating their path coming from the torches hanging off the walls.

Izuku’s eyes wander over to Toph, focusing on the dirt splotches that cover her bare feet.

A thought pops up and Izuku doesn’t think twice about voicing it. “Did you build this tunnel, Toph?”

Toph turns back to him, a smirk growing on her face. “Nope! It was those earthbending dunces. It wouldn’t have been this sloppy if I had done it!”

Uraraka gives her a curious look. “Is that what you call your quirks? Earthbending?”

“Quirks?” Toph ‘s face twists. “What are you talking about?”

“Quirks are the special abilities that each person develops around the age of four!” Iida’s voice booms in the cave, full of confidence. “For example, my quirk allows the engines in my calves to accelerate depending on the gear I use.”

Sokka swivels around, shrinking as he ogles at Iida. “You’re telling me there’s metal in your legs?! You were born with that?!”

Uraraka bounces forward, cutting off a potential Iida explanation. “My quirk lets me remove the gravity of anything I touch with five fingers.”

“Nice to know.” Toph grumbles.

The remark dulls Uraraka’s bounce, her brows furrowing. “I’m sorry about that. I try not to use my quirk on other people. Here, you can feel the pads of my fingers if you want.”

“Why would I want to feel your—” The disgust slips off Toph’s face as she holds Uraraka’s hands. “Whoa, it’s like clay but weirder …”

“That sounds spirit-related. Does everyone in your town have quirks?” Zuko doesn’t turn around, still leading them forward.

“80% of the world’s population has quirks.” Uraraka tilts her head, more focused on the confusion on Zuko’s face than Toph’s handling. “Maybe you guys call quirks something different?”

“There was that one assassin I hired that could blow things up with his mind,” Zuko concedes, not bothering to disclose why he would apparently hire an assassin. “But that seems more like a subset of bending.”

Bending?

“What do you mean by bending?” Izuku asks.

Toph lets go of Uraraka’s hand, her back straightening as she explains, “Bending is the ability to control any one of the four elements found in nature.”

As they walk through the silent tunnels, Toph’s voice grows deliberate. “Fire. Water. Air. Earth. Bending is the power that flows through our veins.”

“Most of us.” Sokka corrects, as a bitter look passes across his face. “Not everyone can lift the ocean or move mountains with our minds.”

“But that’s all there is.” A note of frustration leaks into Zuko’s voice. “It’s either bending or not bending. Engines, Gravity, Portals—It doesn’t make sense!”

And isn’t that familiar?

That sliver of irritation he would see on Katara’s face when All-Might explained something that should have been common sense.

The shakiness that came with everything Aang did; almost as if there was a fraction of uncertainty embedded in his actions.

It’s a scattered mess of puzzle pieces that none of them can assemble.

Izuku just needs to figure out what the final picture looks like. “Then, you don't have heroes or villains here, do you?”

“Heroes? No.” The tunnel twists around a corner, darkening their vision to the point that they could only trail after Zuko’s uneven steps and the venom in Sokka’s voice.

“But we have villains.”

The torches flare back to life, illuminating the bitterness that stains the air.

“A hundred years ago,” Zuko explains, his voice cold, as he brushes the ragged skin of his scar. “The Fire Nation launched the first official military campaign to seize control of every nation in the world. Ever since then, the Hundred-Year War has waged on, a vicious struggle as the rest of the world fights against the brute of the Fire Nation.”

“That can’t be right.” Iida frowns. “My family is familiar with world politics. Even if it’s something that hadn’t been reported in the local news, we would have heard of a war like that.”

“Does your family live under a rock or something?” Toph scoffs, her voice full of derision. “The Fire Nation literally took over Omashu and Ba Sing Se.”

But as Izuku looks back at Uraraka and Iida, his confusion only grows in tandem.

Izuku wouldn’t say global affairs was his strong suit, but he’s not ignorant.

He would have known about a war.

“So, all those people we saw when we came through that portal . . .” Uraraka asks, her voice uncertain. “Those people are—”

“Allies.” Sokka clarifies. “Waterbenders. Earthbenders. Non-benders. People willing to take up the fight to end the Fire Nation’s tyranny once and for all.”

Izuku’s mind rushes with that statement. “You didn’t mention any airbenders. Are they uninvolved?”

Zuko stops walking.

Toph’s breath halts.

A certain darkness crosses their faces.

The only sound in the tunnel is the flames of the torches whipping through the air.

Then, Sokka bends his head down and pushes between them all.

“They’re all gone.”

“Gone.” Iida’s face grows pale. “You don’t mean . . . ?”

Uraraka’s brows knit, her eyes narrowing as Sokka marches away. “That’s not true. It can’t be! Isn’t Aang an airbender according to you guys?!”

Sokka slows to a stop, shadows hiding his face as he stands in front of the cavern walls.

Zuko breaks the silence. “He’s the only one . . . the last airbender.” Suddenly, Sokka bangs his fist against the wall.

“We need him!” His voice rattles the dirt around them. “He was the one that was supposed to face the Fire Lord, not disappear and take Katara with him! With them gone, no one knows what to do—”

His voice cracks.

When he speaks again, the emotions in his voice are all muted. “ . . . We’ll get them back. Whatever it takes. Toph, open the door.”

Toph slams down her foot with a stony face.

A slab of the cavern wall crumbles right in front of Sokka.

“We’re here.” Sokka steps into the overwhelming darkness.

With no other option, Izuku follows him.

“Zuko, light the torches.”

A grunt, and flames pierces through the darkness that envelops them, settling on the torches that hang on the walls.

Old scrolls and books with peeling covers line the shelves and tables around them.

As Izuku crouches closer to the shelves, roaming through the cluttering writings, Zuko starts to speak. “We use this room to store most of the writings and battle theories we develop but decide not to use. With all the discarded plans in here, it’s now an unofficial dumping ground in the base for any scrolls or papers.”

“Deku, look at this!” Uraraka stretches open a scroll, revealing inked drawings. “You would only see these types of paintings in museums, right? They must be ancient!”

Iida narrows his eyes, taking off his glasses to look closer at the scroll. “This certainly predates modern times. If I must guess, it could have even been made before the existence of quirks—”

But the sound of slamming papers draws their attention.

Sokka spreads out a cluster of splotched scrolls on a wooden table.

“I’m starting to think you guys might have come from a region of the world that’s separate from the Great Nations.” He explains, gesturing for them to come closer. “So I brought out all the maps I could find. There’s some differences between them, but they all have a general design they agree on.”

Izuku glances at Uraraka and Iida, as they all share uneasy looks.

And as they all walk over to the table, their hearts strung tight against their chest, Izuku can’t help but fear the worst.

Finally, the table comes to view.

With nothing but his apprehension holding him back, Izuku skims over the collection of maps in front of him.

He looks.

And looks.

And looks.

He keeps looking, even though all his hopes are drowning and nothing makes sense anymore.

“This map . . . None of these maps are right. I don’t recognize a single country here.” Iida confirms what they’re all thinking.

Zuko squints at the map, pointing at the different land masses. “You don’t know any of these nations?”

Izuku’s heart stutters in his chest.

He backs away from the table.

“I-I thought the portal took us to different places, like how we ended up in different zones of the USJ . . .”

“Deku, what do you mean?” Uraraka tears her eyes away from the map. “Aren’t we in a different country?”

The lack of technology.

The different quirks.

The fact that there’s a war that has lasted for a hundred years.

“This place is nice, I admit, but Aang and I need to get home.”

Katara had said that to him before in Recovery Girl’s office.

He had assumed that her home was another country.

But this . . .

“No,” The realization hangs over his shoulders. “The portal took us somewhere else entirely.”

As soon as the words leave his lips, the cave starts to shake.

“Toph!” Sokka steadies himself with a shelf. “What’s going on?!”

Toph’s eyes are wide open as she presses a palm against the shaking ground. “I don’t know. I-I can’t tell!”

In the middle of the ground, something blue starts to bubble.

Iida clears the width of the room in five seconds, grabbing Toph in the process.

The ground cracks open a second later, swallowing up the very earth she was standing on.

The cave rumbles as the portal in the middle of the room starts to expand outwards, trapping them against the cave walls.

Izuku presses his back against the wall, helpless to watch as the color blue starts to overwhelm the cave.

“It’s the portal!” Zuko stretches out his fist, unleashing a stream of flames that the portal gobbles.

“Bending doesn’t affect it?” Sokka whispers, his eyes widening.

“We have to get out of here!” Izuku yells over the rage of the portals ebbing in and out of existence.

But rationality leaves his mind entirely as Uraraka leaves the safety of the walls, edging towards the portal instead.

“Deku . . . you said the portal took us somewhere else, right?” Her voice is cautious as she takes a step closer. “Then, if we want to go back home, we’ll have to go through another one . . .”

Izuku grabs the table, using it as a weight to pull himself closer to her. “It’s too risky! We might end up farther away!”

“How? No one has even heard of Japan here. If we stay, it’ll take forever to get home.” She glances over to the portal growing and bubbling at the center of the room. “It’s a risk we gotta take!”

Iida sets Toph back down on the ground, eyes full of worry as he inches closer to Uraraka. “I-I’m not sure this is a good idea!”

“It’s our only option!” Uraraka takes another step, fear and resolve swirling in her round brown eyes. “C’mon! We have to get back to U.A and stop the invasion!”

Iida looks between both of them, his face crumpling as the portal grows wider and Uraraka gets closer.

But Izuku is torn between logic and emotions.

They have to go home.

But Uraraka can’t get hurt.

It’ll be fine it was only him but her—

Uraraka—

“Uraraka, please!” Izuku screams across the cave.

Uraraka pauses, uncertainty cracking at the determination that lined her face.

Suddenly, the ground underneath her foot cracks.

The choice slides through their hands.

Uraraka’s heel slips.

She falls. “Deku!”

“Uraraka!” Iida follows, grabbing her ankle at the last second.

The portal starts to drag him under.

Izuku can’t stay still any longer.

“Uraraka! Iida! Hold on!”

He dashes through the portal, catching Iida by the tail end of his engines.

He falls.

Someone catches his right hand.

Izuku lifts his head to see Sokka holding on to him.

“Don’t let go!” Zuko wraps his arms around Sokka’s torso, while Toph hooks her arms around him and plants her feet in the ground.

Izuku swings with torque, mind whirling as he looks between the terror in Iida’s eyes

and the determination in Sokka’s.

“If you’re going back home,” Sokka grits his teeth as he tightens his grip. “Then we’re coming with you!”

“We’re what?!” Zuko reels back, even as he never loses his hold.

Rocks crumble from the ceiling as Toph grunts and bares all their weight. “I'm not getting left behind again! If you’re going, we’re all going!”

Toph’s foot slides forward, dipping them all closer into the portal.

Izuku’s glove starts to slip.

A thousand scenarios rush through his head in a single second.

Regardless, he can’t let them risk their lives for them.

He opens his eyes and decides.

“Sokka!” Wind rushes through the portal as Izuku pours all his emotions through a single hand grip. “I’m sorry!”

“What?!”

He wrenches free of Sokka’s hold.

Sokka stretches forward, but Izuku holds his ring finger against his thumb.

He flicks the finger.

This time, it doesn’t break.

The blast pushes them apart, with Izuku flying deeper and deeper into the portal.

He falls.

He’s falling.

Except, when he falls through the portal, he collides with something soft.

It’s . . . different.

His face rubs against something velvety.

Izuku sits up.

A mountain of pillows decorates the ground underneath him.

It’s such an absurd situation that Izuku can only blink.

“Ah. So, there are three of you, then.”

Izuku swivels his head, meeting green eyes.

A student in a girl’s uniform stares at him with a cryptic smile, crouching beside him.

“. . . What?” Izuku’s mind reboots.

Her smile only deepens. “Are you okay? I hope you didn’t get hurt in that fall.”

She stretches out her hand.

Izuku grabs it, biting his cheek to bear the pain from his hands.

She pulls him up in one go, leaving Izuku to stare at her petite frame.

“You seem interesting, but sadly, the circumstances are far from ideal.” The girl slips her cold hands back into the silhouette of her long sleeves. “After all, we have to help your friends.”

And suddenly, nothing else matters.

“You’ve seen them?!” Izuku whirls his head, hoping to see either blue or pink.

Instead, he sees Iida leaning against the wall opposite of them.

“Iida!” Izuku rushes to his side, taking him in the pallor of his skin. “Are you oka—”

He trails off.

Right in front of him, Uraraka lies across the pale tiles, motionless.

Her eyes are closed, and her skin is deadly pale. Her round cheeks are sullen as if all the fat has been drained out of them.

Izuku falls to his knees, lifting her hand in his.

The bones jut out the skin of her fingers.

It’s too much.

It’s too much.

He looks at Iida, his glasses crooked as he stares at Izuku with misty eyes.

“. . . Uraraka?”

She doesn’t reply.

“She’s still alive.”

Izuku whips his head.

The girl from before gives them an inscrutable smile. “Your friend’s heart is still beating.”

Izuku rushes to his feet. “We have to call 119!”

“I doubt they’ll be able to help.” The girl answers, pushing the green strands of her hair to the back of her ear. “Just reaching this school will be a challenge for them.”

Iida pushes against the wall, his breath heaving as he glares at the girl. “Uraraka . . . Uraraka is our friend! We have to save her!”

For a second, the girl furrows her brows, a look of uncertainty crossing her face.

Izuku pounces on the opportunity, grabbing the girl’s cold hands.

“You . . . you knew a portal would open up at some point. I don’t know what’s going on, but you have to help Uraraka.” His grip on her hands tightens. “If you can help her . . . I’ll do anything!”

Icy fingers wrap around his gloves.

Izuku looks up.

The same enigmatic smile reappears on her face. “If that’s the case, I’ll lend my assistance.”

She twirls out of his grip, her skirt ruffling in the air. “Can you carry your friend? You’ll have to follow me.”

Iida leans forward, his hands stretching out, but Izuku beats him to the punch.

“I can carry Uraraka.” She’s light in his arms. Too light. “You should take it easy.”

But when Izuku looks back at him, Iida’s face cracks with frustration.

“I don’t understand! Why . . . Why is this happening?!”

The mysterious girl cuts in, “I’m afraid neither of you could have prevented it.”

She waves her hand, her uniform swaying as she turns her back. “Follow me. I’ll answer as many of your questions as I can.”

Izuku glances back at Iida, but conviction buries the frustration in his eyes.

Risking Uraraka’s life in the hands of a stranger is the hardest decision he has ever had to make.

But as he looks down at Uraraka, as he sees the slow rise of her chest, he can’t hesitate.

He has to protect his friends.

He follows the girl down the hallways, racing against white tiles as he matches her pace.

“. . . I never introduced myself to you, did I? My name is Nanamine Sakura.” She tilts her head towards the windows beside them. “This is Kamome Gakuen Academy.”

Izuku never slows his steps, glancing at the giant windows that make up one side of the hallways.

Vibrant bright trees and lavish flowers bedeck the pavements that surround the school.

Everything looks modern, but Izuku has to be sure.

“Are we in Japan?” He asks.

Nanamine glances back at him, leading them around a corner. “Yes. I suppose you have a Japan in your world, then?”

But before Izuku can reply, Iida erupts, “Midoriya, what’s going on?!”

Izuku turns around to see Iida’s face crumpled with frustration.

“Iida—”

“If you know what’s happening, then tell me! Falling into those portals, meeting Katara and Aang’s family—none of this makes sense!”

“In the simplest explanation,” Nanamine replies, “Those portals are bridges to different worlds.”

Iida doesn’t pause, but he lurches forward, surprise on his face. “Different worlds?”

“Have you ever heard of the multiverse theory?” Nanamine continues, her voice dripping with serenity. “It suggests that thousands of universes exist separate from our own. These worlds have their own histories, their own machinations, their own composition. I’m sure you observed something like that wherever you came from.”

“Then,” Iida looks back at him, his brow furrowing, “That portal we fell into . . . that wasn’t our world . . . ?”

“No, it wasn’t . . .” It’s a struggle to keep walking as the realization hits Izuku.

It wasn’t their world.

Iida’s eyes widen as if he’s reaching the same conclusion. “But we met Katara and Aang’s family there! Are you saying Katara and Aang aren’t from our world?!”

Izuku narrows his eyes as he recalls his conversation with Yashiro.

“I’ve fallen through those portals before!” Yashiro’s pale hair shakes as she gives them a little smile. “It’s why I’m in this world—“

“It’s why I’m in this world . . .” Izuku repeats. “That’s what Yashiro said.”

Iida stares, “Midoriya . . .”

But Izuku can’t stop the words from scrambling out of his mouth. “I think . . . None of the students from 1-D are from our world.”

“You mentioned the name ‘Yashiro’,” Nanamine slows down as they approach a set of stairs. “I don’t suppose you’re talking about ‘Yashiro Nene’, are you?”

Izuku glances back at Iida, hesitant to share such information with a stranger.

But Iida nods, and Izuku takes that as a sign to be open.

“Yashiro is one of my classmates at my school, U.A.” He explains. “She mentioned something about traveling through these portals.”

Nanamine hums, her eyes glittering. “Then, if you don’t mind me asking, do you know Hanako?”

An uneasy feeling sweeps across his skin at the tone of her voice, but he nods anyway.

Nanamine’s smile stretches wide enough to pull at her cheeks.

“Ah, you’ve just hit two birds with one stone for me, Midoriya.” She straightens. “I can get you home.”

A burst of hope floods his body.

Once they go back to their own world, they can get Uraraka medical attention.

Even better, they can get help for the rest of their classmates still stuck at USJ!

“You can return us home?” A tint of incredulity sneaks into Iida’s voice.

“Follow me,” Nanamine responds as she walks up the stairs.

As they trail behind her hasty steps, Izuku glances down at Uraraka.

Even as she’s still unconscious, her breathing is far more level than it was when she first fell out of that portal.

It’s better than before.

But it isn’t enough.

Uraraka needs to be completely okay.

“We’re here,” Nanamine announces.

But Izuku can only blink at the bathroom door that stands before them.

“Nanamine.” Anger leaks out of Iida’s voice. “Is this supposed to be a joke?”

But Nanamine only smiles, “Don't worry, Iida. Things are often not what they seem.”

She opens the door.

Izuku blinks from the sudden rush of light.

But then—

He sees it.

“It’s another portal!” Izuku creeps closer into the restroom, focusing on the bubbling portal emanating in the middle of the tiles.

“Based on what you told me, this should be the original portal Yashiro and Hanako used to travel to your world.” Nanamine motions to the portal.

“So . . . going through this portal will return us home.” Iida steps forward, only for Nanamine to stretch out her arm, blocking his path.

“It’ll be ill-advised to take another step, Iida.”

For the first time since he met her, Nanamine frowns. “If you go through this portal . . . you’ll die.”

Izuku’s heart drops to the floor.

“What do you mean by that?” Iida holds her arm, his face just as serious.

But Nanamine doesn’t look at either of them, her stare directed at the window. “It’s what happened to your friend. Each time you travel through those portals, it siphons energy from your body.”

Izuku stills even as his mind whirs. “How are you so sure of this?”

A wrinkle appears around her brows. “I’m not. That’s the problem. These portals are disrupting several plans in motion. Let’s just say . . .”

Nanamine leans close to him, blocking his view from the sun.

“ . . . I had to sacrifice much to attain the knowledge I have now.”

The uneasy feeling from before triples in intensity.

Izuku swallows down his reservations. “But you said this portal will take us home.”

Nanamine straightens her back, her face returning to that neutral smile. “I said that this portal will take you, Midoriya, home. Somehow, the energy drain doesn’t impact you as much as everyone else.”

It must be from One-For-All. It’s the only explanation that makes sense.

The stockpiling nature of the quirk would give him more energy than the average quirk user.

If only he could share that energy with the rest of his friends.

“Another thing about the portals is that once you go through them, you can’t go back. Think of it as a one-way exit.” Nanamine clasps her hands together. “So, if you fall through this portal and reach your world, it won’t let you return to this world.”

But Izuku shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not going back to my world without my friends.”

“Midoriya,” Iida walks towards him, his face crestfallen. “Please. You have to go through the portal.”

“What?!” How can Iida suggest that?! “I’m not leaving you guys behind!”

Iida squeezes his eyes shut. “Midoriya! I won’t let Uraraka and I burden you!”

“You’re not a burden to me! Ever since we fell through those portals, you had my back, Iida! If it weren’t for Uraraka, we wouldn’t have found a way home. I … I would have been lost without you, so don’t you dare call yourselves a burden!”

Izuku heaves, his breaths coming out fast and quick.

Iida keeps staring at him, his eyes full of astonishment.

“You’re my friends.” Izuku says, pulling Uraraka closer. “We’re in this together.”

“Pardon me,” Nanamine interrupts, “But I might have an alternative solution.”

“How? You said our bodies wouldn’t be able to handle the strain of going through another portal.” Iida narrows his eyes.

“That’s true, but if Midoriya is willing to risk himself—“

“I’ll do it.” Izuku whirls around, meeting Namamine’s surprised eyes. “If it means both my friends and I can go back home.”

“If that’s the case,” Nanamine sighs, “I suppose you can follow me.”

This time, they end up in front of a supply closet, a bubbling portal situated in the middle.

Nanamine removes her hand from her sleeves, revealing a small pink creature. “This is a creature called a mokke. You can see it, right?”

Izuku leans in closer, making space for Iida to see as well.

The ‘mokke’ looks more like a compressed version of a bunny as it shivers in Nanamine’s hand.

“My . . . companions and I have been testing the portals through the mokke found in our school. It’s how we found out the portals drained energy from anything that traveled through it.”

No wonder the mokke looks so scared in her hand.

Iida glares at her. “This . . . you’ve been torturing these animals?!”

“Mokkes are not animals. They’re creatures at most.” Nanamine replies, ignoring Iida’s dissatisfied grunts.

“Remember how I said the portal was like a one-way door? We can ‘prop’ the door open, so to speak, by tying a rope around you and holding onto it from the other side of the portal.” Nanamine explains as she pulls out a coil of rope from the closet.

“So you’ll hoist me down the portal and as long as I’m still connected to this world through the rope, I’ll be able to come back?” Izuku clarifies.

Nanamine nods. “That’s how it works.”

But Iida furrows his brows. “I understand that but how will traveling through this portal solve our dilemma?”

“You see,” Nanamine smiles, “In one of our experiments, we sent that mokke in your hands through this portal. When we pulled it back through the portal, it returned with no damage.”

Nanamine twirls around, her smile growing wider. “I believe that the mokke found something in that world that allows it to regain its energy. My companions and I couldn’t risk the journey, though, not with the energy drain.”

“Then, you’re sending me down there to find it.” Izuku finishes her train of thought.

“An energy source? That’s what you’re risking Midoriya’s life on?” Iida shakes his head, “How are you so sure of its existence? What if he doesn’t find it? What if we can’t pull him back through the portal?!”

Nanamine’s composure settles, the neutral not-smile returning to her face. “I won’t pretend that there are no risks involved. It’s up to you to decide whether this is the best option or not.”

It’s an instant decision in Izuku’s mind. “I’ll do it. If there’s even a ghost of a chance of helping Uraraka and Iida, then I’ll take it.”

“Midoriya . . .” Iida frowns.

But Izuku refuses to budge.

“Please, Iida. I'm counting on you to take care of Uraraka while I’m gone,” Izuku says as he passes her to Iida.

Even now, Uraraka still doesn’t make a sound, her eyes closed shut and her skin growing colder.

She’s still alive, but Izuku isn’t stupid enough to believe that won’t change.

He has to save her.

He glances up at Iida, noting his pale skin and heavy breathing.

He has to save everyone.

Nanamine gives the mokke to Izuku right as he finishes tying the rope to his waist. “Here, it’ll help you find that energy source.”

Izuku holds the creature in his gloves, his grip tightening against the mokke.

He smooths its cold fur down, hoping the action would comfort it.

It’s déjà vu, almost. This sensation of coldness . . .

For some odd reason, it reminds him of Hanako.

Izuku shuffles forward, staring at the blue portal that bubbles near his feet.

He looks back at Iida, who’s holding onto the end of his rope with a tight grip.

Then, he turns to Nanamine, who’s still giving him that cryptic not-smile.

“When you’re ready to come back, tug the rope, and we’ll pull you up. Are you ready?”

Izuku frowns. “You’ve done so much for us. Why?”

“You’ve already helped me. I wouldn’t have known as much about the portals as I do know now without your presence.” Nanamine answers.

But her lips thin, and she looks away from them. “That doesn’t mean it isn’t nice . . . helping others, that is.”

At that, Izuku can’t help but smile. “Thank you for helping us, Nanamine. I’m grateful.”

With nothing else to lose, Izuku steels himself.

He looks down at the portal bubbling before him.

He closes his eyes.

He falls in.

If Izuku had opened his eyes, he would have seen a spiral of colors unraveling.

He would have seen time and space collapsing on itself, twisting in ways that simply could not be described.

He would have seen the origin of the universe’s end.

He would have promptly gone mad at the sight.

But instead, Izuku keeps his eyes closed.

He holds the mokke tight in his hands.

He waits for the feeling of whooshing through a portal.

He doesn’t open his eyes, because it’s familiar.

It’s familiar.

It’s familiar.

It’s familiar.

It’s like he’s fallen down somewhere before. Not just in a portal, but in general.

The sensation of free-falling is familiar.

Has . . . has he done this before?

He falls.

This time, Izuku lands on solid ground with his two feet.

Though, with the pain rocketing up his legs, he might have been better off rolling on the ground instead.

“ . . . Agh,” His body droops against the wall, as a sudden feeling of exhaustion overwhelms him.

All the muscles in his body turn to lead.

Worse, the pain in his hands starts to flare up.

Izuku can hardly think anymore.

His body oscillates between agony and fatigue until he can’t separate the two feelings.

He wants to give up.

He wants to give up so badly.

He ends up sliding against the wall, his back hitting the floor as he tries to focus on breathing.

The mokke rolls out of his hand, but Izuku doesn’t have the strength to scoop it back up.

He almost giggles at the thought, being so weak that he can’t even pick up a rabbit . . .

How the hell is he supposed to do this?

Saving Uraraka, bringing her and Iida back home—he didn’t even know there were other worlds until a few minutes ago!

The back of his head hits the floor.

Izuku's body burns in pain.

And for a few minutes, all he can do is watch the ceiling.

He has always done that.

Watching.

Watching others use their quirks.

Watching others fulfill their dreams of heroism while he was stuck without a quirk.

And like always, it all comes back to Kacchan, Izuku’s earliest standards of a heroic ambition.

Despite Kacchan’s demeanor, Izuku couldn’t help but gawk at the sheer brilliance of his quirk.

Kacchan pushed himself every day, fixing his flaws and boosting his strength.

He never gave up—will never give up!—on his goal of becoming the number-one pro-hero.

And yet, here Izuku lies, wasting his quirk to count the tiles on the ceiling.

He clenches his fist, pushing through the pain it causes.

He can’t give up.

Not with his friends depending on him.

Izuku rolls onto his side, using his forearms to push his body off the floor.

Even if he has to travel to the ends of this world.

Even if every single bone of his body is lit on fire.

Even if it all seems hopeless . . .

Izuku rises to his feet. “I won’t give up!”

He sways, disoriented, but he refuses to fall.

With renewed vigor, Izuku examines his surroundings.

It’s a hallway, but one side of the hall is full of windows that stretch from the top of the ceiling down to the ground.

One glance out the window reveals intricate columns, lush shrubs, and a path that curves into a pool.

Izuku blinks.

It’s the kind of paradise that would only found on the front page of home improvement magazines.

It looks beautiful . . . but Izuku’s on a mission.

He has to focus.

The mokke must have run off while he was acclimating to this world.

It couldn’t have gone far, though.

Not with how it shook in Izuku’s hand, fur pale with exhaustion.

It should still be in the hallway further ahead.

His bones creak with each step he takes, but Izuku grits his teeth through the pain.

As he pushes himself, he notices the stray strands of fur lying on the tiles.

Pink fur.

He’s getting closer.

He turns the corner, finding the mokke just as it headbutts a steel door.

“So, this is where you went,” Izuku bends down and scoops it in his hand.

Surprisingly, the mokke curls up against him as Izuku scratches behind its long ears.

A burst of pain flares from the action, but Izuku pushes the feeling aside.

“Nanamine wouldn’t mind if I named you, would she?” If it’s going to be helping him, he might as well give it a proper name. “You’re kinda like a bunny, so Mirko would be a good name . . . but that’s too obvious . . . how about Okrim?”

The newly-dubbed Okrim bumps its head against his hand.

“Alright, I’ll call you Okrim! Since we settled that . . . let’s see this door you were trying to open.”

Izuku raises his head, taking in the steel door in front of him.

There’s no telling what he’ll find in there.

Izuku takes a deep breath, steeling himself for a potential fight.

He glances at Okrim, the creature staring at him with big, black eyes.

Right.

He has to do this.

He swings the door open.

Immediately, a plume of gray fog emerges outwards, blocking his vision.

Despite that, Izuku steps forward, covering his mouth as he waves away the fog.

With the air clearing, Izuku stops walking to inspect the room.

It’s huge.

Actually, it’s gigantic.

He spins in place, taking in the chrome steel of gadgets and machines set up around the laboratory.

It must be at least twice the size of the lab for the Support department at U.A.

As Izuku looks through the lab, he peeks at the scrap metal and tools scattered all over the tables.

A large wall of computer screens and keyboards that could put the U.A. security’s office to shame hangs on the walls.

While the sight is nice, it’s daunting to think who might be in charge of such an awe-inspiring laboratory.

Finally, Izuku takes another turn and stops completely.

A massive computer screen illuminates the room in a green light.

Right beside it, a woman naps on the table, her snores almost as loud as the CPU running in the background.

Izuku stills for a moment, watching as she dozes off.

His focus switches to her arms.

A small chubby baby babbles at Izuku, its arms stretching out towards him even as the woman holds him.

. . . He’s really out of his depth here.

Should he wake her up? Will she be helpful like Nanamine? Or will she assume he’s an enemy immediately like Zuko?

With how tired he is, Izuku can’t risk another fight.

It doesn’t look like she needs any help either.

Even with how deep her sleep seems, she’s still holding pretty tight to her baby.

Izuku sneaks away.

Instead, he heads towards the huge computer screens, hoping for a hint of some kind.

Luckily, the computer is still unlocked, so Izuku scrolls through the file that’s opened.

“Quantum Physics . . . Multiverse theory . . . ” He’s only a few words in, but he’s already confused.

Izuku lets Okrim hop out of his hand, directing his focus to the document in front of him.

“ . . .Trial 00001: A blind start,” Izuku skims through the first paragraph. “Using the schematics from the first time-traveling machine, I created a prototype to open the dimensional portals . . . !”

But the surprise that sneaks up on Izuku disappears as he reads the next words.

“A total failure. Nothing happened.”

Izuku scrolls through the log, his eyes widening as he reads the different entries.

“Trial 00059: adjusted the capacitors . . .”

“Trial 00107: another failure. Maybe there’s a certain energy threshold to reach . . .”

“Trial 00232: Chi-Chi’s starting to hound me again. She keeps asking when I’ll find her son, I’m trying I’ll like to see her try to fix this pile of junk . . .”

“Trial 00234: Chi-Chi and Piccolo somehow got into the lab and tried to start the prototype. Thankfully, Dad had a fire extinguisher nearby . . .“

“Trial 00319: Dad thinks an energy gradient between the worlds is making it hard for portals to appear. He also warned me about the portals. There's not much difference between space and time. The prototype could create a portal through time rather than space. At this point though, traveling through the past might be a last resort . . .”

“Trial 00374: Something happened! The prototype opened a portal but when I looked inside, all I saw was empty space. No Earth, no air—nothing. Vegeta had to pull me out before the lack of oxygen could get me. Dad and I both agree that something—someone—destroyed that world. We can’t figure out where that portal was coming from. I have to be more careful opening them—whatever destroyed that world could still be around, waiting to escape—“

A crash rings out in the lab.

Izuku swivels his head, his mind still stuck between the lab and the computer screen.

Right in front of him, the baby in the woman’s arms squeals, babbling as he squeezes the life out of Okrim.

It’s almost astonishing how the woman is sleeping through the havoc erupting in her arms.

Okrim’s eyes bulge with each squeeze the baby gives.

If Izuku doesn’t intervene, the pink rabbit might just explode. “Um, come on . . . let go of it . . . ”

Izuku pulls at the baby’s hands.

It’s a slight tug, only a slight tug.

Yet, the baby falls into Izuku’s hands, cackling even though he’s about to have a heart attack—

The woman jerks awake.

A second of silence rings out.

Izuku stares at the woman and the woman stares at him as he holds a misshapen pink rabbit and her child in his arms—

Oh no—

“Trunks!” The woman screeches.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Izuku backpedals, rushing away from the woman’s wild swing with her wrench. “This isn’t what it looks like—“

“It looks like you’re trying to kidnap my son!” Gripping the wrench in one hand, the woman digs through her pockets to pull out her phone. “I’m calling my husband—“

“I’m not t-trying to kidnap anyone—“

“—Are you kidding me?! He’s in your arms!”

“H-He fell into them—“

“—I’m calling him! J-just so you know, my husband kills people, so you better just give up now while you got the chance—“

“PLEASE—“ Izuku shoves the baby into her arms.

The woman pauses, her fingers halfway through a phone number.

She leans closer and snatches her baby, cuddling him all while eyeing Izuku like he’s a villain.

Though, with his tattered hero clothes, and how he dropped out of nowhere, her suspicion is warranted.

The woman furrows her brows as she stares at him, “Are you some kind of delinquent? What’s with the get-up?”

Right.

This is usually the time he explains himself.

He takes a breath in, hoping that this will turn out better than the last two experiences he had.

“My name is Midoriya Izuku. I’m a student from U.A, and . . .” He straightens his back, ready to drop the bombshell, “I’m from another dimension.”

Izuku waits for the backlash, or the denial, or the outright confusion.

Instead, the woman raises her hand to her chin as she bounces her son on her hip. “Another dimension, huh? How did you end up in this world?”

Izuku blinks. “You . . . you believe me?”

“Well, now that you mentioned it . . .” The woman narrows her eyes.

If Izuku doesn’t stop putting his foot in his mouth, he might end up in this world’s version of jail.

He shakes his head to wipe away the terrible image. “Wait, wait! I can show you proof!”

With that, Izuku leads her to the blue portal bubbling on the ceiling.

“That’s interesting.” The woman tilts her head upwards, letting her blue bangs sweep against her temple. “The portals don't affect inorganic matter. But at the same time, the presence of any matter running through it keeps it active.”

Izuku looks down at the rope tied around him. “I thought the rope was acting as a bridge.”

But the woman narrows her eyes. “Hm . . . maybe more like a salt bridge, if you catch the analogy. What’s important is the energy that’s traveling through the rope. It must be contributing to an energy gradient that feeds into the portal!”

It’s one of the rare times that Izuku doesn’t understand someone nerding out to him.

“It’s a serious risk to travel through that portal, though.” The woman frowns. “There’s no telling what it can do to your body.”

With that sentence, the reminder of why he came to this world comes rushing back to burden his shoulders.

“That’s why I’m here. My friends and I fell through these portals and we’ve been jumping through them to find our way back home.”

Izuku clenches his fist, as the pain of his broken fingers reminds him of his mission. “I wasn’t affected as much, but my friends … it’s like something drained the life out of them.”

“More like the energy out of them.” The woman comments.

At the look of confusion Izuku gives her, she tilts her head. “How about you follow me back to the lab and I’ll explain?“

As they return to the laboratory, the woman adjusts her hold on her baby. “My name is Bulma Briefs. Trunks, my lovely son, is a witness to how many days I’ve been slaving away in this lab.”

She must have been the one writing those notebook entries Izuku was reading. “It’s nice to meet you, Dr. Briefs.”

She wrinkles her face as she reboots the computer. “Dr. Briefs is my father’s name. You can just call me Bulma.”

That’s way too terrifying to consider.

“. . . Mrs. Briefs?” He offers instead.

Her face crumples even more. “No way. That’s my mother’s name.”

“ . . . Dr. Bulma?”

She hums, before nodding. “It’s acceptable.”

“Okay!” Izuku smiles. “How does the portal work?”

“Think of it like this,” Dr. Bulma explains. “Let’s say you have a river that flows downstream from a lake. From that, we say that the water is moving from a high concentration, which is the lake, to a low concentration, which is the river.”

Izuku nods, “Right.”

Dr. Bulma slumps down into a chair. “To simplify it, the whole multiverse is this connection of rivers, with my world and your world and other worlds acting as lakes that the river flows through. The water in this metaphor would then be energy, as energy flows from high to low concentration.”

That made enough sense.

Kinda.

“That doesn’t make sense at all, right?” Dr. Bulma smiles. “How can energy flow if our worlds are separated? That’s because the energy doesn’t flow! The boundaries of our worlds are like dams. Some energy leaks through but not enough for our worlds to start mixing.”

It’s starting to make sense to him. “So, the portals that appear . . . they’re cutting through that ‘dam’ . . . which means they cut through our worlds’ boundaries?”

“That’s right!” Mrs. Bulma brightens. “Our worlds have different levels of energy. That can make it easier or harder for a portal to appear. But that’s the big thing: energy. The portals are so energy-dependent that they can siphon energy in the right conditions.”

The gears click in his mind. “Like someone falling into them.”

“You got it. When a person falls into those portals, there’s a diffusion of energy that takes place. Energy travels from their body to the portal to restore the energy cost it takes to sustain that portal.“

“Then . . . ” Izuku swallows, “Can someone recover from that?”

At that, Mrs. Bulma loses her smile, clutching Trunks tighter. “Maybe. It could take a couple of days. It could take longer.”

Izuku doesn’t have a couple of days.

Uraraka needs to be better now!

“There has to be something that can help my friends. Isn’t there anything . . .”

Izuku darts his eyes, searching until he sees Okrim resting on the floor.

“Here, Okrim came to this world before, but the portals don’t affect it as much. There has to be a reason!” Izuku picks up Okrim, showing it to Dr. Bulma.

“Hmm . . . ” Mrs. Bulma’s eyes widen, “Wait … did it?!”

She pushes off her chair, rushing to cupboards along the walls as she pulls open different drawers.

“I can’t believe it!” She slams a drawer shut as she storms back to her seat. “That thing went through my senzu bean supply!”

. . . Senzu beans?

Dr. Bulma opens her palm, revealing three pale beans. “My dad has been researching them for their restorative properties. Your rabbit pet thingy must have gotten into my drawer and eaten most of them! With all that energy, of course, the portals won’t affect it!”

Izuku’s heart stirs in his chest. “Do those beans heal energy? Can they work for humans?”

“Huh?” Dr. Bulma blinks. “You can have them if you want. They’re usually for physical injuries but if it’ll help your friends . . .”

At the sight of the three little beans that rest in the middle of his gloves—that have the power to heal his friends—Izuku can’t help the tears that dampen his eyes.

“T-Thank you so much!” His nose is stuffed and his cheeks are wet, but Izuku couldn’t care less.

The U.S.J invasion might still be happening, but at least he, Iida, and Uraraka will be there to help stop it.

Dr. Bulma follows him as he rushes through the hallway. “Um . . . I wasn’t sure to ask if it was normal in your dimension, but I’m pretty sure most of your fingers are broken.”

“Don’t worry! I’ll get them healed as soon as I get back to my world!”

It isn’t an entirely true statement.

The pro-heroes would have to stop the villains at the U.S.J before Recovery Girl can treat him, but it’ll happen sooner than later.

As they stop under the portal, Dr. Bulma’s face squeezes. “Can’t you just use the senzu bean on yourself?”

But Izuku shakes his head. “I’ll have to give them to my friends.”

And sure, he could take the last senzu bean for himself.

But as Izuku looks down at his gloves, the mottled and broken fingers hidden underneath them, a paralyzing sense of inadequacy grips him.

If he was better at wielding One-For-All, he would have never gotten these injuries in the first place.

He’ll have to keep these as a reminder to do better and save the last senzu bean for someone more deserving.

But it’s too much history to explain to someone he had just met a few minutes ago.

Instead, Dr. Bulma bites the inside of her cheeks. “If you say so . . .”

But Izuku still feels off, even as he stands under the bubbling portal with Okrim in his arms, his ticket home a hop and a jump away.

“Um . . . Dr. Bulma,” Izuku’s eyes dart to the floor, “I-is there anything I can do to help you? I read some of the research trials you’ve been conducting . . . Did you lose something?”

After all, Izuku has seen the evidence of all the sleepless nights she’s been pulling, conducting so many experiments just to open those portals.

It has to be personal.

But Dr. Bulma just sighs, patting her son’s head as he giggles in her arms. “Don’t worry about it . . . I doubt you would be able to help me.”

Izuku frowns as Dr. Bulma’s lips thin.

He tugs on the rope as he holds Okrim tighter. “Are you sure? If I could do anything for you . . . “

But Dr. Bulma just shakes her head. “It’s fine. You should just focus on helping your friends.”

Izuku stares at her, the urge to help bubbling in his chest. “Dr. Bulma . . .”

She glances at him, her face torn, before her lips wobble. “I mean . . . I’m also looking for my best friend’s son, Son Gohan, but I doubt you’ve seen him . . .”

“Oh, I know him!” Izuku beams.

He can help her!

At her look of surprise, Izuku clarifies, “He’s rather tall for his age, and he has a monkey tail, right?”

A beat.

Dr. Bulma’s mouth drops to the ground, “He has a what?”

But before Izuku can explain, something tugs at the rope attached to his belt.

“Oh, I think they’re pulling me in—“

“Hold on, Midoriya!” Dr. Bulma nearly trips over herself as she latches on to his wrist. “What do you mean he has a tail?!”

As Dr. Bulma holds him down, the rope starts to squeak with tension.

Izuku whirls around to stare at her, feeling just as distressed as she looks. “Dr. Bulma . . .”

“Okay, Um! Just tell—Just tell Gohan that I’ll find a way to get to him, and he shouldn’t—no matter what!—he shouldn’t do the thing we both know he shouldn’t do, okay?!”

Huh?

Izuku nods anyway, leaving her grip to loosen.

“Good luck, Midoriya!” Dr. Bulma waves him goodbye as the rope lifts him up.

He falls into the portal.

Dr. Bulma’s voice echoes as he blacks out, “You’re gonna need it . . .

Nanamine Sakura considers herself a cold person.

“Nanamine! Thank you so much!”

The girl, Uraraka Ochako, spins Nanamine around in an arc, squeezing her tight.

Warmth ebbs off Uraraka, swirling around Nanamine, tempting her to reciprocate.

But Nanamine is far too cold for that.

Instead, she pastes a smile on her face as Uraraka finishes her hug. “You don’t have to thank me. It was your friend that healed you anyways.”

“Deku is really amazing!” Uraraka smiles, a bit of blush climbing on her cheeks. “But he couldn’t have done it without you!”

Nanamine hums, directing her gaze at the two boys beside the portal.

Iida and Midoriya were their names, right?

Midoriya had jumped out of the portal, armed with some medicine to help save his friends.

Once they healed, Nanamine showed them where the original portal was still bubbling.

The portal that should take them home, that is.

Yet, Uraraka had taken her aside, apparently to give her thanks.

Nanamine ignores the urge to crumple her lips.

Gratitude . . . something so pure shouldn’t be given to her.

She darts her eyes, only to notice the downcast expression on Uraraka’s face.

“I’ve been trying to be more like Deku, taking initiative and stuff . . .” Uraraka huffs, kicking at the ground with her boot. “But all I did was forget my phone in another dimension and get hurt. Deku and Iida had to travel through all those portals to try and save me.”

Her brown eyes focus on the bandages wrapping around Midoriya’s hand.

Her brow twists. “Worse, they got hurt because of me.”

She glances at the boys whispering amongst themselves and sighs. “I completely messed up.”

Nanamine stares as Uraraka buries her head in her hands.

“Uraraka,” she asks. “What do you desire?”

Uraraka lifts her head. “ . . . huh?”

Nanamine glances at Midoriya, taking in his tattered clothes and injuries. “Midoriya strikes me as the kind of person who would go above and beyond for his desires. You admire that trait, don’t you?”

She grabs Uraraka’s hand, pulling her off the ground. “If you want to be like him in that manner, you should chase after your own desires, not just imitate his behavior.”

Uraraka’s face turns hot. “I’m not trying to imitate him!”

“Nevertheless,” Nanamine says, “Despite your mistakes, you can become a good hero.

Uraraka stares at her.

Her eyes are big and glowing. “ . . . Really?”

It’s too much.

Nanamine turns away, facing the hallway’s windows instead. “It’s possible, as long as you know what you’re fighting for.”

“Uraraka, Iida!” Midoriya calls out. “We should start going.”

Uraraka whirls towards Midoriya, determination stiffening her face. “Right.”

“The portal will still drain some of your energy,” Nanamine warns. “But it will take you home in relatively good health. Avoid all other portals, and you should be fine.”

Iida gazes at her with blue eyes full of hope and brightness. “Thank you, Nanamine. We couldn’t have gone far without your help.”

Midoriya whirls to her, his face the epitome of sunshine. “Iida’s right! You’re the reason we can go home!”

Nanamine forces the smile on her face to widen. “I’m merely happy that I can lend my aid.”

“Farewell, Nanamine!”

“Thank you, Nanamine! Goodbye!

“Bye, Nanamine! I won’t forget you!”

Nanamine watches as the three students disappear down the portal.

They’re so rosy, gleaming with optimism and cheer.

Nanamine is almost glad they’re gone.

Though, she guesses it doesn’t matter in the end.

It won’t be the last time she sees them.

Nanamine reaches into her skirt and pulls out her phone.

She dials the number.

“. . . My lady! The love of my life! The sugar in my tea! The dew to my leaves—”

“Natsuhiko.” Nanamine cuts him off. “Tell the rest of the broadcasting club to get ready.”

“Of course, my lady . . . Where are we going again?”

Nanamine looks down at the portal bubbling at her feet.

The smile on her face wipes away, leaving her as still and cold as porcelain. “It seems the portals are fine to use as long as we’re careful.”

The portal fizzes.

Nanamine stares at it without emotion. “It’s time for a family reunion.”

Sokka tightens his grip on the pink phone Uraraka had left behind.

Its design is striking.

The top section can collapse on the bottom section with a flick of the wrist.

He flicks forward.

The phone flips open.

He flicks backward.

The phone flips close.

“ . . . This sucks.” Toph sits next to him on top of the rubble of the cave, with Zuko groaning for the millionth time.

After all the portals fizzled out, the cave system collapsed, rendering the hideout unusable.

It was a blow, especially with how much information they had lost in the collapse.

Sokka couldn’t find it in him to care, though.

He flicks forward.

The phone flips open.

He flicks backward.

The phone flips close.

Toph kicks a rock. “The next time I see that Deku guy, I’m gonna pound him into another dimension.”

“I get why he pushed us out of that portal thing.” Zuko sighs. “If we followed him, we would have abandoned half of our forces.”

Toph throws a rock in Zuko’s direction. “I don’t care. I’m still mad.”

Zuko catches it and huffs. “Yeah . . . so am I. We need to find him.”

Sokka flicks his wrist forward.

The phone flips open.

It lights up.

An image of Katara squinting at the sun pops up.

“ . . . Sokka?”

Sokka turns to Toph and Zuko, noting the curious looks on their faces.

“Haven’t you guys heard of multi-tasking?” He smiles at them. “We’re gonna find another portal, rescue Aang and Katara, beat up Deku, and save the world.”

He flips the phone close. “Count on it.”

Chapter Text

“Hey! Hey! Hey! Look at what I can do!”

Bakugou Katsuki—a troublesome and tiny four-year old—hops on one foot as he tries to grab his mother’s attention.

Bakugou Mitsuki—A twenty-something year-old fashion designer bored out of her mind—sighs as she lounges on a couch, “Alright, brat. What the hell do you want to show me?”

A gigantic smile breaks across Katsuki’s face. "Look at this!" He lights up his hands, unleashing a shower of harmless sparks that sprinkle down his face.

“Huh, that’s a neat trick.” His mom raises a brow, impressed. “Looks like you’re getting the hang of that quirk.”

“I’m calling this move ‘The Super All-Might Skull Crusher’!”

“How heroic . . .” His mom pats his head.

But the moment passes and she rolls back on the couch, her eyes focusing on the television instead.

The sparks from Katsuki’s hands fade, but something else boils in him.

He just showed his mom the most amazing, strongest move ever and all she did was call it a ‘neat’ trick!

When he showed ‘The Super All-Might Skull Crusher’ to his classmates, they cheered him on for the whole day!

When he showed ‘The Super All-Might Skull Crusher’ to his teachers, they said he shouldn’t use his quirk in class.

But their smiles got prouder.

Their voices got high-pitched with compliments.

There was a certain look in their eyes.

The look that said he could be the greatest hero in history!

But as Katsuki lowers his hands, seeing his mom laugh at some dumb joke on TV, her words are all he can think about.

A neat trick.

Neat.

Katsuki isn’t neat.

He tosses his hands up and the sparks reignite, “Old hag! I told you to watch my move!”

“Oi!” His mom swivels her head.

Her eyes widen. “Katsuki! The lights!”

The burst of sparks fly right into the ceiling lights.

The room explodes in brightness.

Something shoves him to the ground.

He doesn’t hit the floor, bouncing against something soft instead, but the sudden impact drenches him in fear.

The room shakes as something crashes next to him.

He's still shaking when warm arms wrap around him. “Katsuki, you’re okay! You’re okay, alright?”

“Mom…” He breaks out in tears, “Mom!”

His sobs get louder even as his mom holds him tighter, murmuring soft words. “It’s okay, brat. It was just the ceiling light that fell. You’re okay.”

Eventually, he calms down enough to loosen her hold, raising his head to look at her tired face. “Did…Did I do that?”

With a mix of amusement and irritation (and maybe something else . . . something like pain), his mom flicks his forehead. “Yeah, you did, brat.”

With the mystery solved, Katsuki pouts before returning to his mother’s warmth. “I’m not a brat …”

“Yeah, you are,” His mom retorts, “And you’re getting a big head too. You’re too young for that.”

“At least I’m not an old hag.”

“Shut up and listen for once,” She readjusts her weight, her face crumpling as she rests her hands on her thigh. "Ow . . . stupid glass."

She stretches her back. "Anyways, you can’t start getting a big head. Nothing’s more stupid looking than a kid with a big head.”

Katsuki frowns. “I don’t got a big head.”

“You do. You’re too much like me that way.” His mom says. “You can’t start getting a big head, brat. If you do . . .”

She trails off, and Katsuki is curious enough to wiggle out of the hug, turning around to see what she’s looking at.

It’s the old ceiling light.

Except now, it's a scorched wreck of glass shards.

His mom frowns at the broken thing. “If you get a big head, it’ll hurt when someone pops it.”

Katsuki keeps staring at it, as if a revelation will come forward.

He stares and stares and stares—until everything is black and he can’t feel anything, let alone the warm arms of his mom.

But something still holds on to him.

Or someone.

Someone . . .

“Bakugou!”

Katsuki wakes up with his fists swinging. “W-what the fuck! Get off me!”

“Bakugou—are you kidding me—Bakugou! Stop fighting for a second!”

The cadence of the voice rattles him out of that fight instinct.

His vision focuses.

His blurred sight clears up to reveal a tight-knitted frown on a girl's face and a loose brown braid that swings back and forth.

It's Loopy-Hair.

He lets his muscles relax. “Loopy-Hair. What’s going on?”

The wrinkles on her face deepens as she presses glowing hands to his chest. "We're in the middle of an invasion.”

An invasion?

Right. They were on that stupid field trip to the USJ when that guy showed up—

That guy!

"That motherfu—" Katsuki tries to push himself off the ground, but Loopy-Hair shoves him back.

“Don’t stand up so quickly!” She yells, “Do you know how long it took me to heal you when you got blown up?!”

It hits him.

The villain with the gas mask.

The explosion.

Katsuki lost control of his explosions—his quirk.

He whips around, meeting her eyes. “What happened after my quirk went off?”

Did it hurt someone? Did he hurt someone—

“Mob shielded most of the students with his powers,” Loopy-Hair exhales, her breath swirling into an icy mist. “After that, one of the villains separated everyone with their portals. With all the water that’s available, I think we ended up in the Downpour Zone.”

It doesn’t answer his questions. “Spit it out. Who got hurt?”

She turns her face away from him, but it doesn't hide the crack in her voice tremor in her hands. “ I … I didn’t get a chance to look at the other students. After the explosion had settled, the first person I saw was Thirteen-sensei.

She bites her lip. "They looked bad … but they told me to go heal you first.”

Heal him first?

Why . . . ?

Loopy-Hair rises from her squat, her breaths shallow and quick.

It’s impossible to miss. “What's up with you?”

She leans against a boulder, her face darkening. “You were caught in that blast, remember? Healing you took almost everything I had. I didn't know if I could—“

Her voice breaks.

A moment later, she shakes her head and pulls herself together. “Anyways, healing and fighting off villains wasn’t easy.”

Katsuki manages to raise his head, taking in the scattered bodies of unconscious villains around them.

He tsks.

He needs to regroup with Sensei and Thirteen.

Even he knows when he’s out of his depth.

“We were next to the Central Plaza before all the portals appeared.” Katsuki adjusts his gloves. “We can head there to look for Sensei. When we find him, he can tell us what the fuck we’re supposed to do.”

Loopy-Hair gives him a weird look. “That’s actually logical. So, it is possible for you to think with that head of yours.”

Katsuki doesn’t bother giving that stupid ass statement a response.

“Anyways,” She narrows her eyes. “We’re in the Downpour Zone. If you want to get to the Central Plaza, we’re gonna have to head South.”

As they trudge through the rain, Loopy-hair furrows her brows. “Meeting up with Aizawa-sensei is good, but I was thinking of heading to the other zones to help any other injured students …”

“It’ll take too long.” Katsuki shoots the idea down. “We’re better off calling all the pro-heroes here. Besides, if those extras can’t handle a bunch of shitty villains, their asses don't belong in this school.”

“I think it would actually kill you to be considerate.” Loopy-Hair rolls her eyes, but her steps never falter as they travel to the Central Plaza.

With the light rainfall, it doesn’t take long to reach the edge of the Downpour Zone, next to the Flooding Zone.

Katsuki peers across the boundary of the zone, focusing on the cruise ship sinking in the middle of a lake.

The waves push and pull at the ship, as if moved through an unnatural force.

Something must be lurking underneath the waters.

Villains.

Katsuki’s lips curl.

He looks down at his palms.

Some first-degree burns scattered between the patches of nearly-burnt skin.

Despite Loopy-Hair's quirk healing him, that explosion still left a stinging mark on him.

But there’s no way he’s letting those dumbass villains roam around so freely.

Katsuki turns his head to meet Loopy-Hair’s waiting stare.

“We’re heading to the Flood Zone—”

“We have to head to the Flood Zone—”

They blink.

Loopy-Hair breaks the silence with a smile. “Good, we’re on the same page, then! We’ll go over to the Flood Zone and help rescue the students that might be stuck on that ship.”

As Loopy-Hair rushes over to the edge of the zone, Katsuki slows down.

Rescuing his classmates never came to mind.

A familiar voice rings out in his head, but with Loopy-Hair moving closer to the shore, he shakes it off.

Loopy-Hair keeps walking until she’s an inch from the water.

She closes her eyes.

She inhales.

She swings her arms.

Water roars—the lake splits in half.

What the fuck?

The water rises until it forms two giant walls, drying the ground in between it.

“Are you coming?” Loopy-Hair exhales as she keeps her arms stretched out. “I can’t hold this forever.”

As he follows her down the dirt path, he looks at the water wall on his right, blinking at the sight of villains struggling in the structure.

Fuck.

Just—

Fuck.

Loopy-Hair glances back at him when they’re close enough to the ship.

Her face twists, “This’ll be a bit complicated to pull off, but it’s not like I have a choice ….”

Before Katsuki can ask what she’s talking about, Loopy-Hair spins her arms in an arc.

Two things happen at once.

One, the water walls rush forward, folding into giant waves that send the villains tumbling underwater.

Two, a thin sheet of ice replaces the ground underneath Katsuki’s feet.

“Shit! Loopy-Hair, what the fuck—“ Katsuki gets cut off as the waves of water curl around them, forming a water funnel that lifts them higher.

Loopy-Hair grabs his arm to steady him, taunting him with a “What? You can’t handle a little water, Bakugou?”

“Fuck you!” Katsuki nearly slips off the ice patch, only for Loopy-Hair to tighten her hold on him, her giggles getting louder.

What the hell is she laughing for?!

He glances down at the giant funnel of water raising them to the ship.

He looks over at the villains still struggling under the lake’s waves.

The precision and energy needed to manipulate that much water . . .

Very few pro-heroes can match that.

Even now, Katsuki is still a creature of habit, as he glances at Loopy-Hair and wonders—

How can he match that?

Eventually, the funnel lifts them up to the ship’s deck.

Katsuki doesn’t hesitate in jumping aboard.

Something moves.

He dodges the swing on his right side.

The wind breaks again.

Katsuki reacts fast, grabbing whatever’s being swung at him, only to find himself holding some kind of staff. “What the—“

“Bakugou?!”

The familiar voice reorients him.

Katsuki blinks.

He sees the blond hair, the ugly traffic safety earring, and the freakish fangs.

Off-Brand Houdini stares at him with wide blue eyes.

“Bakugou?!” He breathes, “You’re alive?!”

It puts him off, the disbelief that flickers in his eyes.

What the hell . . . ?

But before he can say anything—

“Bakugou?

Katsuki whips his head.

He meets bright red hair, eyes that glisten the same color, and hands that harden on and off as they flex.

Shitty Hair stands in the middle of the ship deck, his eyes glowing big and bright like a beacon.

He’s looking at him like he’s a goddamn miracle.

“Bakugou? Tell me you're alive.” Shitty Hair takes a step closer.

Katsuki steps back in response. “What’s with you? ‘Tell me you’re alive’—Of course I’m alive!”

He whips his head, turning to Loopy-Hair as she steps off the water funnel.

She wrings her hands, her lips shaking.

“Loopy-Hair . . .” Katsuki pushes aside the eerie sensation of something off, focusing on her instead. “What the fuck are they talking about?”

For a second, the only audible sound is the waves that ebbs in the lake.

The silence collapses.

“We’re talking about the fact you died in that explosion!” Off-Brand Houdini bursts out.

Katsuki opens his mouth, but nothing comes out.

Houdini continues, “Mob … Mob tried to protect everyone with his powers but his aura couldn’t extend fast enough.”

A faint, noiseless memory appears in Katsuki’s mind.

He remembers the scene he saw the second he had attacked that hooded villain.

The world had turned into a kaleidoscope of colors, blossoming from the advent of a white light.

“When it was over, everything was burning,” Houdini’s voice lays over the fading memory. “You . . .”

Houdini’s face crumbles. “I-I know what I saw. That blast killed you!”

The memory vanishes completely, and Katsuki is left staring at his three classmates, all of them looking at him.

Staring at him.

It comes slowly. “No … you’re fucking with me …”

Shitty-Hair looks at him.

In those red eyes, it’s swirling all up in there.

Pity.

Katsuki grabs the straps of his hero uniform and pulls. “Don’t fucking pity me, Extra! I know what the fuck I’m saying! I didn’t die!”

“Let Kirishima go!” Houdini gets in between them, pushing Katsuki’s grip aside.

“If you don’t believe us, then follow us to the cabin.” Houdini exhales, his eyes falling on Loopy-Hair. “You too, Katara! You . . . You saved him, didn’t you?! We need your help!”

Houdini rushes off and Katsuki follows, heart beating in his chest because there’s no fucking way he’s right.

He can’t die in a explosion his quirk caused.

He was the best student in his middle school.

He got the highest score on the U.A’s entrance exam.

He’s gonna be the number one fucking hero in Japan, surpassing the likes of even All-Might!

There’s no way he died—

Houdini opens the door.

The stench hits him first.

It drapes itself over the inner cabin, a noxious odor that leaves Katsuki’s eyes watering and his chest heaving for fresh air.

The stench is faintly familiar, something that Katsuki associates with bright green leaves, middle school memories, and a quirkless little boy that never knew what was good for him.

It’s the stench of burned flesh.

The whimpering hits him second.

It comes from Racoon Eyes, who’s fumbling with strips of bandages as tears soak her pink, scuffed skin.

She looks up, and suddenly, hope swells in her puffy face. “B-bakugou?”

For some reason, it’s too intense. He doesn’t want to see it.

So, he looks down instead.

The sight is the final hit.

He sees it.

He sees them.

His eyes widens.

Something putrid curls up his throat.

He only has a second to turn away before he wretches.

The room moves with him, a flurry of motion as Katsuki chokes on fluids and emotions.

Someone shifts their arm to the side, supporting his weight as he heaves.

He doesn’t have the strength to push them off.

He doesn’t have the strength to do anything.

All he can do is cough out everything in his stomach, then in his heart, then in his soul because his explosion caused this.

His explosion created the two scorched figures Ashido is desperately trying to save.

He tries to glance back but a stiff hand moves his head forward. “Don’t. Just-just try and breathe.”

“Shut … shut the fuck up.” Katsuki’s heart quivers in his chest.

He’s on his knees, sitting in a pile of his sick.

He clutches his pants, his hands shaking.

The words crawl out of his throat. “I … I did this. I killed them.”

“No, you didn’t.”

Katsuki’s neck nearly snaps at the speed he spins.

Loopy-Hair—Katara—kneels between the two figures, the glow from her hands illuminating the sweat on her face.

“I’ll bring them back,” Her eyes burn brighter than any of Katsuki’s sparks. “Even if it kills me.”

And despite the determination that coats her words, Katsuki still can’t believe it.

As if sensing his doubt, Katara spares a glance at him.

Sadness twirls in her blue irises.

“Bakugou . . . you were worse off when I got to you.”

Every single cell in his body turns to ice.

He’s frozen in that cabin, as Katara huffs and swirls ribbons of water to her hands.

He’s frozen as Minamoto and Ashido run around, carrying water through the strips of their clothes.

He’s still frozen when someone wraps their hand around his arm and leads him out of the cabin.

He finds himself standing on the deck of the ship.

His eyes focus and all he sees is the blueness of the lake that expands in front of them.

It’s quiet now, tranquil—nothing like the chaos carving his heart to pieces,

“I want to be the number one hero.”

He doesn’t know why he says it, or why he thinks he has the right to speak.

Regardless, the words keep falling out of his lips.

“I want to be as strong—no, stronger—than All-Might. I want to be the hero blasting the shit out of villains and saving the fucking day.”

Katsuki’s hands still shake.

“If I wanted to fight a villain, I should have just looked at a fucking mirror—”

“Hey—”

Someone grabs his shoulders and whirl him around.

It’s—it’s Shi—

It’s Kirishima.

“You’re not a villain. The person that set up that trap—they’re the one that did this!”

He doesn’t get it.

Katsuki’s throat burns. “I fell for his trap! If I had listened to Sensei … If I had thought about it for a single second—”

The image of those bodies sear itself into his mind, and Katsuki’s stomach turns at the sight.

“Those two … I don’t know who they are—they don’t even look fucking human anymore!”

“Bakugou—”

Katsuki throws off that comforting hand. “You don’t get it! I caused this! Every single person that dies today is on my fucking head!”

He pants, his breaths heaving as he waits for the judgment Kirishima will impart.

But Kirishima furrows his brows, his lips thinning as he opens and closes his mouth, as if he’s trying to find the right words to say.

“I … That villain was waiting for us, right? He knew we were going to come. He probably had another trap set up. Maybe this would have happened regardless.”

Kirishima places his hand on his shoulder again. “Look, Katara healed you. She’s gonna heal the other two in the cabin. Then, we can make sure everyone else is safe and meet up with Sensei.”

“You’re strong, Bakugou. It’s one of the things I admire about you!” The grip on his shoulder tightens. “But everyone fucks up! If you think you made a mistake, then you can't just brood over it. You gotta be a man and fix it!”

Katsuki hears the words.

Yet, all he can focus on is how the lake ebbs and flows in front of him.

Right at that moment, Ashido rushes out of the cabin, panting as she squeezes water out of her uniform. “Guys, you won’t b-believe it!”

“What’s going on?” Kirishima rises to his feet. “Did Katara heal them?”

Ashido bounces on her toes as a smile stretches on her tear-soaked face. “You should have seen it—it was insane!”

Kirishima opens his mouth to reply, but Katsuki beats him to the punch.

“Who are they?”

Silence slips over the ship like a veil, leaving all three of them to stand in the tension of the air.

“. . . Jirou and … um … Kaminari,” Ashido coughs. “But … they look—um—normal now. You can’t even tell they were in that explosion. Katara did a really good job.”

Jirou and Kaminari.

Katsuki’s heart pounds against the walls of his chest.

“Hey,” Ashido gives him a fragile smile, crooked and feeble at the edges. “M-maybe we can focus on other stuff, like getting out of the Flood Zone. Since everyone is healed up and we found some U.A P.E uniforms that Kaminari and Jirou can wear instead of their hero outfits, we can get help.”

“Yeah,” Kirishima lifts his head, “With all the villains scattered around, I bet there’s an unguarded exit somewhere. We can send someone to find the teachers while we round up all the other students together!”

It’s a sound plan, something that Katsuki can’t possibly fuck up.

As Katsuki opens his mouth to agree—

—He pauses.

“D-did you guys feel that?” Kirishima looks around, his face squeezing.

A touch of panic illuminates Ashido’s face. “Yeah, wh-what was that?”

Katsuki turns his head towards the horizon, listening to the rumbling that echoes across the zone.

The noise is almost imperceptible, but it buzzes just loud enough for Katsuki to notice.

The buzzing heightens.

The world moves an inch.

It—

     Moves—      

                                                                                     
               An—

—Inch.

The world tilts, turning a shade darker.

The emotion buzzing becomes a torrent of anguish and horrors that brings Katsuki to his knees.

It laughs at him.

It sinks its caustic claws into his soul and drags it out of his body.

The feeling of death leaves Katsuki crumbling.

Dying is inevitable.

Dying is inevitable.

Dying—

                is—

It’s over.

The feeling leaves as fast as it arrives, releasing its hold on Katsuki.

But he can’t find the strength to rise.

All he can do is shiver in place.

“W-What the hell was that?!” Kirishima holds the ship’s railing with a trembling grip.

Ashido has the same terrified expression. “I-I don’t know! It was so scary—” She wheezes as she hugs herself.

Worse, the sound of buzzing never leaves.

Katsuki looks up, as something blue bubbles high in the air.

It forms a single blue portal, fizzing out of nowhere.

Katsuki narrows his eyes at the phenomenon.

Suddenly, another portal pops up.

Then, two.

Then, ten.

In the blink of an eye, the sky becomes a composition of blue portals that fizzes and bubbles.

“Watch out!”

Katsuki turns his head just to see a portal open between them.

It widens, letting a villain dressed in all black walk through it.

The villain looks around, confused.

When they spot them though, a smirk cracks their face in half. “Looks like I found some hiding hero runts.”

Before Katsuki can even move, Ashido screams, shooting out a blob of acid that hits the villain's face.

They stumble to the edge of the ship, only to fall overboard as Kirishima punches them with a hardened fist.

“Damn it!” Kirishima scowls as he looks up at the bubbling portals. “Are they sending villains through the portals?”

“Let’s guard the ship!” Ashido’s eyes narrow as she clenches her fists. “No matter what, we can’t let them get into the inner cabin!”

Katsuki rises to his feet, as the portals rumble around him.

But as he looks down at his hands—sees the blood staining them—he finds himself watching.

Watching as Ashido and Kirishima fight off the incoming villains.

Watching as Ashido and Kirishima turn to him.

Watching as Ashido and Kirishima reach for him with shocked eyes and desperate hands.

Watching as he drops down all the way to h—

Oh.

He must have fallen into a portal.

Katsuki meets the ground as he falls out of the portal, his body colliding with the coarse surface.

The pebbles wedge themselves into his skin, leaving biting pricks of pain that roars up and down his skin.

A sense of exhaustion weighs him down but Katsuki lifts his head anyways.

A battle rages in front of him.

Hanako appears out of nowhere, panting as he narrowly dodges the bullet shot at him.

Katsuki shifts his eyes.

He sees them.

It’s the same villain as before—with the dark green All-Might hoodie, the smirched gas mask, and the shitty, fucked up All-Might shoes.

A current of rage runs through him at the sight of the villain.

If it weren’t for that dickhead, Katsuki’s quirk would have never blown back on him.

If it weren’t for them, Kaminari and Jirou would have never gotten hurt.

If it weren’t for them, Katsuki would have never died—

A thud echoes.

Katsuki blinks.

Hanako punches the villain straight in the gut, leaving them gagging over his fist.

Katsuki can’t think of a single moment Hanako had ever directly hurt someone.

Hanako kicks the villain aside.

But the dickhead only stumbles back for a few feet before they’re standing upright again.

“Y-you didn’t use your knife.” Their voice wobbles, a clear sign of them using a voice changer. “Y-you’re still holding back.”

Hanako tsks.

Then, he turns around.

The frustration on his face wipes away, with shock taking its place. “Bakugou?”

The villain whips their head.

For a second, everything stands still as Bakugou stares at the object of his hatred.

He sees the villain quiver.

He hears the slight hitch in their throat.

He almost tastes the palpable animosity that emanates out of them.

Good.

The villain is just as angry as he is.

He takes a step closer, and the villain reacts. “How the hell are you still alive?!”

Katsuki doesn’t respond, staring at the villain instead.

The villain scratches at their neck, their movements becoming erratic. “I killed you! I saw you die! How are you still here?!”

He doesn’t give them a response.

But he glances at Hanako, seeing the same question reflecting in his eyes.

“Loopy-Hair fixed me up.” An almost macabre sense of satisfaction swells up in him as the villain roils with rage. “Not that it matters to a dipshit like you.”

“To think I almost felt sorry for you!” The villain’s hands shake. “This time, I’ll make sure you won’t get up.”

Katsuki ignores him for a second, glancing over to Hanako.

Hanako’s face is a picture of blankness as he darts his eyes to the right.

Katsuki follows his gaze.

Kageyama’s brother lies against the water fountain, unconscious.

The gears in his head turn.

Hanako must want him to distract the villain. With a distraction in place, he can escape with Kageyama’s brother in tow.

Katsuki cracks his knuckles.

He has no problems with that plan.

“I’m gonna beat the fuck out of you for the shit you pulled.” Katsuki steps closer, lowering his stance in case of a surprise attack.

Instead, the villain pauses, the shuddering movements coming to a halt. “ . . . You think you can pull that off?”

Katsuki doesn’t answer.

He bolts across the distance of the central plaza, rearing his fist.

The villain doesn’t move, even when they’re a second away from being slugged.

They catch his fist.

Katsuki grunts as the villain holds his fist with ease. “You know, Bakugou, you have a terrible habit of leading a fight with a right hook.”

“H-huh?” Despite himself, Katsuki stumbles.

The villain shifts, the lens of their gas mask gleaming. “This fight won’t end up like all the others! I’m looking to win today!”

The villain grabs his wrist and lifts Katsuki up, right before throwing him against the ground.

For a second, as Katsuki gasps from the pain radiating in his back, an overwhelming sense of deja vu consumes him.

This isn’t the first time someone has countered his right hook with an arm drag.

But that thought leads to nowhere (They’re wearing the same exact shoes as Deku), so Katsuki jumps back to his feet.

The gun the villain was holding has disappeared into its holster. “Try not to make this too easy for me.”

Fuck them.

He rushes to the villain, winding up a kick aimed right at their head.

It’s blocked, but Katsuki isn’t finished.

He adjusts into a one-hand stand, then adjusts that into a backflip that lands the heel of his boot right under the fucker’s chin.

An audible jaw clack, and the villain is left choking through that ugly-ass gas mask.

But Katsuki won’t let his guard down for an instant.

He aims a left hook, feints just as the villain draws close and knees the shithead in the gut.

The villain gasps.

But it’s too fast.

They take a quick breath and exhale, with the gas mask hissing with air.

Katsuki only has a second to snarl before the dickhead grabs the back of his neck.

They pull—

They slam their heads together.

Metal collides against his skull.

Katsuki’s vision flares with stars and flashes.

But the rage broiling his blood and painting his vision red has him grasping for purchase, hands flaring for something to clutch.

With pain rattling up and down his body, Katsuki grabs the villain.

The sudden force leaves them unbalanced, hurtling them to the ground.

Dust kicks up, and Katsuki thinks he’s screaming, rolling the villain onto their back and punching and punching and punching—

His fist cracks the gas mask, but Katsuki can’t stop—

The villain kicks him off with their metal-enforced combat boots.

He shoots sideways, the skin on his arms burning each time his body bounces off the ground, like a rock skipping across a pond.

He skids to a stop, and Katsuki crumbles.

He’s curling up, dry-heaving from the pain.

Someone exhales.

Katsuki springs up, pushing against the agony to face the villain—

“Why won’t you use your quirk?!”

Katsuki stares.

The villain stands a few feet away from him, with their gas mask half-collapsed, the lens broken, and their clothes burnt to darkened scraps that barely hang off their sickly body.

The water fountain between them fills the silence permeating in the air.

“Come on!” The villain stretches their hand out, getting into a fighting stance. “Don’t you want to use it on a real villain?”

Katsuki stares.

He turns his head, spitting out the blood pooling in his mouth.

Then …

He runs forward.

The villain’s stance doesn’t change, even as they dodge the punches Katsuki throws.

“What? Are you scared of another gas leak?” The villain ducks away from his uppercut. “You and I both know the last explosion burnt it all away! You’re free to terrorize me as much as you like.”

But Katsuki refuses to take the bait.

He keeps going, rushing the villain with hits they redirect.

The villain’s voice drops to a whisper. “ . . . Would you stop underestimating me if I told you how you looked after that explosion?”

His heart stops beating.

The villain keeps talking. “It was hard to tell that it was your body but I recognized the clothes you were wearing. Seems like it was resistant to your quirk.”

No, he needs to focus.

Listening to this bull is pointless!

Katsuki aims another punch.

The villain dodges, but they keep talking. “There wasn’t much left of you anyway.”

Katsuki aims an uppercut.

The villain dodges.

They keep talking.

“Fourth degree burns all over—you didn’t even have skin—”

Katsuki aims a kick.

The villain dodges.

“Wish you could have seen it. After the blast, you were just a steaming corpse melting all over the ground. Convulsing like a worm split in half—”

“Shut the fuck up!” Katsuki charges with both hands.

But the villain catches him in their grip, their voice slipping into a teasing murmur. “I'm surprised whoever healed you had enough material to work with. It must have been hell scooping all that burnt meat up.”

Against his will, Katsuki’s mind flashes back to the moment he woke up—the moment he saw Katara.

The villain tilts their head, their voice rising to a needling pitch. “It would have to be meticulous too—you think they managed to piece you together?”

He remembers the dark expression on Katara’s face when he asked about the explosion.

“Or maybe there’s some clumps of you that’s still staining the concrete.”

There were bits of blood stuck in her fingernails.

He snaps.

His quirk feels just like it did when he first got it, the sparks in his hand igniting and glowing as he lunges towards the villain.

“Fuck you!” Enmity and hysteria swirls until Katsuki’s almost euphoric, drunk off the victory in reach as his hands get closer and closer to the villain. “Go to hell and die—”

He flinches.

That is—

The villain flinches.

The sparks in Katsuki’s hands sputter.

The villain grabs his wrist, redirecting the explosion away.

“W-what’s with the hesitation?” He says. “You were supposed to go all the way!”

But the voice floats like smoke in the air, hundreds of miles away.

Katsuki shakes his head, but he isn’t in the Central Plaza anymore.

Katsuki’s mind is in the past, somewhere in the autumn-tinted yard of Aldera Middle.

In this memory, he’s holding someone up by his collar, while his gaggle of extras watch.

He thinks Deku is there, crying as usual as the extras hold him down.

Katsuki raises the middle schooler in his grip higher.

They’re faceless, nameless.

Katsuki doesn’t remember them.

The extras cheer him on, just as nondescript.

Katsuki lights his hands and burns—

“Look at me!”

The villain kicks him in the chin, yanking him out of the ash-tinted memory.

Katsuki blocks the second hit with his arm, only to end up jostled.

The villain is shaking his arms.

The villain is shaking his arms and yelling right in his face.

But Katsuki can’t hear the words coming out of his mouth.

It’s blackened.

It stinks of death.

The villain isn’t a villain anymore.

It’s Jirou or maybe Kaminari.

It’s a corpse.

It’s skin curdling to black charcoal. It’s a lump of burnt flesh that’s still steaming. It oozes with dried pus, spreading the stench of death with every heaving breath. It’s the lack of eyes, boiled away by the heat and turning into white, steaming gunk that swishes in the cracked holes of the skull. It’s the parts of the flesh that’s too pale, as if the white-hot blast had disintegrated it and left nothing but ashes sticking to crumbling bones.

Katsuki’s mind is still in the past.

He’s in the inner cabin of the ship in the Flood Zone.

He’s watching Ashido.

Ashido is sobbing as she holds the blackened hands of two almost corpses still hanging on to life by a wisp of a thread.

“I-I don’t know what to do!” The words fall off her lips like tears rolling down a cheek. “I-I don’t know—”

“LOOK AT ME!”

Katsuki shakes off the past’s hold on him.

Katsuki, right now, is on the ground.

The villain is on top of him.

There’s a gun pointed right at his skull.

“J-just fucking use it!” The villain’s voice goes in and out. Katsuki can barely hear it. “After all the years you spent using your quirk on others … why won't you use it now?!”

Katsuki doesn’t know.

He doesn’t know.

Katsuki grabs the patches of dirt on the ground, a feeble attempt at regaining his fucking senses.

Is he in the past or is he in the present?

Is he saving anyone or is he hurting everyone?

Is he facing a stranger or is he facing—

The villain brings his fingers to the edge of the gas mask.

The villain lifts the mask ever so slightly, until it’s only the shadow of the rim that obscures his skin.

“Do you want to know who I am, Bakugou?” The gun presses closer to his head.

Katsuki can’t breathe.

Why does he feel like he already knows?

The villain asks him one more time. “Do you want to know who I am? Do you want to know who you created?”

The villain tilts his fingers.

Katsuki holds his breath.

“Can you see me now, Ka—”

The air whooshes.

Katsuki whips his head.

It’s a giant portal bubbling through their plane of existence.

Katsuki blinks.

Suddenly, Deku flies out of the portal, hanging on to Ingenium’s brother and their other classmate.

Green eyes meet him.

“Kacchan!” Deku screams, jumping from Ingenium’s brother’s grip as he flies towards him.

Katsuki turns his head, glancing at the villain above him—

The villain never moves, staring right at Deku.

Katsuki glances at the villain’s hands.

They’re shaking.

“SMASH!” Deku throws his fist into the air, whipping a gust that blows them apart.

Katsuki rolls across the plaza, cognizant of the pain radiating in his body and Deku’s grunts beside him.

He lifts his head up, only to see the ridge of earth Deku created between them and the villain.

The villain lies face down on the ground, motionless.

Katsuki can’t move.

Deku rises to his feet, turning to him with those big eyes, “Kacchan!”

Katsuki can’t answer.

Deku keeps staring at him.

He stretches his hand out.

He stretches his hand out.

Katsuki is lying on the ground, battered and beaten, and Deku is standing with the light shining against his back, with his fucking hand stretched out—

“Fuck!” Katsuki slaps the hand away. “F-fuck off!”

Katsuki’s heart hammers in his chest, his blood burning as Deku grabs his hand back.

He keeps staring at him with those fucking eyes.

Somehow, something in the air releases its grip on both of them when Ingenium’s brother runs up to them.

“Deku!” Their classmate—the brown-haired girl with round cheeks—rushes right by his side. “Any energy drain? Iida and I don’t feel tired, but you could have—”

“I’m fine, Uraraka.” Deku turns toward her, his voice light and airy. “That villain is taken care of, so we don’t have to worry about any more blasts.”

He ignores Katsuki, giving Ingenium’s brother and the brown-haired girl a smile that cracks at the seams.

“You’re not supposed to be here . . .”

The crackling voice has everyone turning around.

The gas mask lies on the ground, shattered to pieces.

The villain stands on shaking legs, his face covered with the shadow of his hoodie. “You’re not supposed to be here . . .”

Immediately, Ingenium’s brother covers them with his back. “Stand back, villain!”

But it doesn’t stop him.

The villain drags his feet, one after the other, his shoulders slouching as he holds his side.

“Y-You’re supposed to be home . . .” Something dark and viscous flows from the silhouette of his hoodie and drips into his voice. “H-he said you wouldn’t be involved if I listened . . . !”

Deku shifts past Ingenium’s brother’s guard, creeping closer to the villain even as the brown-haired girl pulls him back.

The villain keeps walking. “Why are you here? W-why do you have a quirk? Did he—Did he lie to me . . .”

“. . . Maybe you knew me from somewhere . . .” Deku doesn’t loosen his guard, as he stares the villain down. “ . . . But I’m not quirkless!”

He raises his fist. “And I won’t let you hurt my classmates anymore!”

The villain stops.

He’s still staring, but his limbs hang in the air, as if something physically halted him.

Suddenly, he digs into his pocket—

Ice.

Katsuki rubs his eyes.

The villain is now halfway frozen in a mass of ice.

“Bakugou!” Hanako runs down the hill, with Kageyama’s brother, still unconscious, on his back. “I brought back-up!”

Back-up appears in the slouched figure of Endeavor’s son, with small patches of ice stippled across his skin.

“Todoroki!” Ingenium’s brother yells, as Endeavor’s son crosses the hill with jagged steps and heavy pants.

Wisps of cold air floats from his mouth as he glares at the villain. “You . . .”

The villain doesn’t move, not even bothering to acknowledge his presence.

“Your lackeys at the Mountain Zone already told me the gist of your plan.” A flash of anger covers his scarred face. “Strike U.A, overwhelm the students and teachers, kill the Symbol of Peace . . .”

Katsuki’s heart freezes.

“Killing . . . All-Might . . . ?” Deku blanches.

The brown-haired girl eyes the villain, her face palid as she steps back. “Killing All-Might?! That’s. . . It’s unbelievable . . .”

Yet, the only person seemingly unaffected is Hanako, the picture of composition even as he adjusts Kageyama’s brother on his back.

He narrows his eyes at the villain. “Then, you were planning to use those two monsters—those nomus—on All-Might. You’ve seen All-Might defeat one of them though. Did you really believe that another nomu would have made a difference?”

Despite the chilling mass of ice, the tension boils as the villain stands motionless.

“ . . . I don’t care about All-Might.” Even without the gas mask, his voice still wobbles. “Whether he lives or dies means nothing to me.”

“Then . . .” Hanako’s brow furrows, “What exactly was your goal for this invasion? What are you trying to accomplish?”

For a second, the villain says nothing, the hoodie still enshrouding his face.

Then, “ . . . I have no goal.”

There’s no emotion in his voice. “Every reason I had for doing this turned out to be meaningless. All-Might isn’t even here. It’s all pointless.”

“Pointless . . .” The brown-haired girl’s face twists, colored with horror and tinted with disgust. “ . . . After hurting so many people . . . How can you brush that off so easily?!”

Suddenly, something moves.

Katsuki’s mind whirs a mile a minute, racing, only to see the metallic armor.

Ingenium’s brother stands in front of the villain, gripping the collar of his hoodie.

“You’re saying you invaded our school, injured our classmates, hurt our sensei . . . and it was all meaningless to you!” He tightens his grip, anger coloring his face red. “Villains like you . . . you’re despicable!”

The villain moves his head, as if preparing to speak.

“ . . . Hey . . . Hey! Can you fucking hear me? Ghost!”

It’s coming from the black object frozen to the villain’s hand.

A radio.

The radio buzzes with static. “Ghost . . . psst . . . You piece of shit! Where . . . bald brat’s strong . . . we need . . . fucked up!”

The dickhead on the other side must be asking for back-up.

Fat fucking chance.

“Get the radio.” Katsuki’s throat burns.

Ingenium’s brother reaches for it.

“Shigaraki, I changed my mind. I don’t care anymore.” The villain’s words rush out of him. “Go ahead with the Trigger plan.”

Even the air is silent.

“. . . Fuck yeah! Let’s kill . . . hero brats!”

Something cold seizes Katsuki. “Break the radio! Now!”

Endeavor’s son grabs it from the villain’s hand, crushing it under the heel of his cleats.

The villain’s voice is still emotionless. “That was pointless. Shigaraki already started the plan.”

“What did you just tell him to do?!” Ingenium’s brother snarls. “Tell me!”

The villain leans forward in his grip. “Do you know the easy part about making a plan to kill All-Might? If it even looks like you have an ounce of a chance of pulling it off, all sorts of villains will flock to you, begging to get involved.”

The ground starts to tremble.

But the villain isn’t bothered. “You buy them weapons, high-tech gear—They’ll start eating out of your hand. They won’t care when you give them bracelets that attach to their circulatory system via their veins. They won’t think about the lie you spout about wanting to keep track of them. They’ll probably think you’re doing them a favor.”

The tremors in the ground worsen, almost as if it's an earthquake.

Katsuki finds himself struggling to balance, as his classmates around him lurch from the shaking.

As if guided by precognition, Katsuki looks up.

A scaly, dragon-like villain almost 15 feet tall glares at him with yellow eyes pulsing with red veins.

In Ingenium’s brother’s grip, the villain doesn’t even shake. “Have you ever heard of Trigger?”

The dragon villain’s mouth inflates, swelling in size.

A glint shines in the villain’s eyes. “Do you know what five grams of Trigger, a weak quirk enhancer drug, injected into a villain with a strong quirk will do to them?”

Katsuki sees the blast before it hits.

“Move!” He shoves Ingenium’s brother out of the way.

They roll to the ground, the burning sensation of flames riding up on Katsuki’s neck.

But Katsuki has the minimum level of heat resistance due to his quirk.

He can bear it.

“Kacchan! Iida!” Deku’s voice roars over the flames. “Where are you?!”

Katsuki shoves Ingenium’s brother away, focusing on the landscape instead.

The Central Plaza is completely on fire.

Sparks of fire burn in bunches across the zone, boiling the air until even breathing is a herculean task.

In the midst of the destruction, the villain stands, the chunk of ice that was imprisoning him now a melted puddle of water.

A purple mass swirls in the air, revealing another villain in a fitted suit. “Ghost. Master Shigaraki sent me over to your location to assist you.”

The villain cocks his head. “Make sure Shigaraki doesn't use Nomu-1432AZ8. The portals it created are multiplying, so if we aren’t careful, we might end up bringing back Kageyama. I’m not fond of a painful death, so let’s avoid that. If All-Might shows up, all this hysteria will at least slow him down enough for the other nomu to do some damage.”

The other villain narrows its yellow eyes. “Your usual hesitance around your actions is absent. Are you embracing the side of villainy now?”

“Kurogiri, with all the shit I’ve just been through, I don’t really care for your psychoanalysis at the moment.” The villain whips out his gun from his holster. “Do me a favor and quit pretending you give a fuck about me. Go follow your orders.”

The other villain disappears in a swirling mass of gas, its parting message an echo in the air. “As you wish.”

For a second, the villain stands alone in the wrecked landscape.

Katsuki tenses, readying himself.

Suddenly, the villain tilts his head. “Are you done eavesdropping now? Or do I have to drag you out of there?”

Katsuki’s blood runs cold.

But his apprehension turns into confusion when Deku walks forward instead.

For once in his life, Deku doesn’t shake. He doesn’t sob, whine, or any of the usual bullshit.

No, he’s facing the villain with determination glowing in his eyes, even with the world burning around them.

“ . . . You said you didn’t have a reason to do this anymore.” Deku says. “Then, stop this invasion! I-I won’t let you hurt my friends!”

The villain stares at him.

“ . . . Friends, huh?” The villain grabs the edges of his hoodie. “You never had that before. Or at least, you never had any real friends.”

Deku reels back. “Huh? I—

“You didn’t have a quirk either. Getting into U.A was a pipe dream for you.”

“Fuck . . .” The villain lets out a scratchy laugh that claws up the walls of Katsuki’s mind. “You really got everything you wanted, didn’t you?”

Deku pauses, his brows furrowing as if the villain is a puzzle he can’t solve.

Finally, something cracks, and Deku’s eyes widen. “D-Do I . . . Do I know you?”

But the villain isn’t listening.

He stares down at his hands, his breaths coming out in puffs.

“You ended up getting everything you wanted—everything I wanted! W-why did I do this—all of this?! I knew it was unforgivable but I was fine with it. It was okay to play the part of the villain! As long as the people I cared about were safe!”

The villain raises his head, stretching out his hand to gesture at Deku.

“I guess I shouldn’t have given a shit though—since you’re here with everything I ever dreamed of! Does it feel good? Is it exciting? Ha ha . . . What a fucking joke!”

“What?” Deku takes a step back, disturbed.

But the villain keeps laughing.

“Everything I did . . . “ Heaving breaths of laughter echo in the air, mixing with the crackles of the flames around them. ”It was all for nothing! Shigaraki, Kurogiri, Sensei—at the end, I’m just as bad as them!”

The villain falls to his knees, his hand digging into the fabric of the hoodie.

He never stops laughing.

“Ha h-ha h—” The villain’s voice cracks. “ . . . what was the point of any of this? Why am I still going . . . ?”

Katsuki takes a step closer to the scene.

With the villain distracted, he can aim an attack strong enough to knock him out.

Katsuki glances back to the landscape, focused on finding any weak spots to exploit.

But the sight in front of him freezes him completely.

Deku stands in his line of vision, a frown permeating on his face.

“ . . . Y-you can stop.”

The villain stops laughing.

“. . . what?”

Deku stares down at the villain’s crouched figure. “I-I mean, you can stop this! If you’re tired of being the villain, just—just turn yourself in! Stop the invasion!”

Katsuki’s ears ring.

. . . What the fuck is Deku doing?

His fists clench as he tries not to grit his teeth.

After everything that shithead did . . . why is that nerd going easy on him?!

Katsuki’s palms start to spark and it takes every last inch of control to muffle the sound.

His teeth grind together and he can taste blood at the roof of his mouth.

He’s the fucking villain! He’s the type of shit All-Might grinds to the ground with the soles of his feet!

What? Is he trying to save him or some bullshit?

He has to—

“ . . . be realistic.”

Katsuki whirs his head at the sound of the villain’s voice.

He rises on his feet, his hand tightening the rope of his hoodie. “While there’s no turning back for scum like me, I don’t want to go to Tartarus either.”

A loud-pitched screech rings out of the hood. “My voice changer almost broke—that would have been messy . . . I still have things to do . . . actually, I like that little bit of naivety you have. Hold onto it, and in exchange, I’ll keep holding all the bad memories . . . not that anything I’m saying makes sense to you. I made sure of that.”

“. . . We don’t have to fight.” Deku gets into a stance anyway.

“ . . . I was supposed to play the villain, right? I’m good at that at least.” The villain says as a shadow rises over him.

The shadow stretches over the villain, reaching to cover the small field around them.

“Let’s play then.”

Deku’s eyes fixate on the sky, growing wider with each second.

Katsuki follows his gaze and meets the bright yellow eyes of the dragon villain rising above them.

“Be the hero, Midoriya Izuku . . . “

The dragon villain bellows.

“ . . . and I’ll be the villain.”

A plume of flames spirals out of the dragon villain’s mouth, aiming right at them.

Before Katsuki can even think of dodging the attack—

A giant cascading wall of ice splits across the field, hissing as the blast of fire collides with it.

Endeavor’s son huffs cold air from the other side of the field. “Give up . . . before I make you . . .”

“Like you can do anything . . .” The villain’s reflection is distorted behind the melted columns of ice. “You’re covered in frostbite. You’re a second away from crashing.”

“Don’t underestimate me!” Endeavor’s son snaps, charging across the field with an ice-propelled kick.

He hits the villain dead-center, leaving him to struggle for balance.

The villain flails in the air, grabbing Endeavor’s son by the collar—

“Todoroki!”

—and falling into a portal that opens underneath them.

“Damn it!” Deku rushes to the ice wall, slamming his fist against its surface. “With those portals, they could be anywhere!”

But the sound of the air splitting has Deku scrambling back.

It swings in the air, a twisted club that almost bludgeons them.

Katsuki turns around to face the owner.

The face of a drugged-up villain with empty eyes and glistening fangs greets him.

“Kacchan, duck!” Deku warns.

Something grabs his sleeve.

Katsuki swivels around to see Hanako’s determined eyes.

The club swings downwards, phasing through them to crack the ground instead.

“Hanako?!” Deku blinks. “Is that Kageyama’s brother on your back? What happened to him?!”

Hanako huffs as the villain in front of them roars. “Mob fell into one of those portals. I’m assuming he didn’t take it very well.”

A blur of pink flashes in Katsuki’s vision and suddenly, the villain is floating away, screeching as he flails.

The brown-haired girl waves to them, her face glistening with sweat. “Are you guys alright?!”

As Deku shoots her a thumbs-up, he glances back at Hanako. “Don’t worry, Hanako! We’ll find out which dimension he’s in. I’ll jump through all the open portals if I have to!”

What?

Katsuki stumbles on his feet, dodging stray attacks as he tries to detangle the conversation in front of him.

Hanako’s eyes widen, some indistinguishable emotion swirling through them. “. . . What did you just say?”

Deku smiles wide at him. "I met your friend too!"

This time, Katsuki can tell the look on Hanako's face is complete fucking confusion. " . . . Huh? My what?"

But before Deku can explain, the ground shakes again.

The earth underneath them becomes a spider-web of cracks.

Something dark and slimy winds through the crevices.

Katsuki’s mind flashes back to the Sludge Villain and he’s on his feet, wrenching away from all of them.

Yet, because Katsuki has shit for luck, the black liquid reassembles to a dusky, amorphous villain.

“There’s too many villains around!” Hanako yells, tightening his grip on Kageyama’s brother. “We need to regroup!”

The amorphous villain stretches out a limb, aiming in Hanako’s direction.

But the limb bounces against the air, harmless, as a purple aura shimmers around it.

Kageyama’s brother huffs, his hand stretched out as he holds the villain with his aura. “Hanako! W-what’s going on?!”

Hanako turns, eyeing the sudden cascade of portals bubbling around them. “I wish I could answer that.”

The portals storm the air, glowing like stars in the night sky.

“T-they’re multiplying…” Kageyama’s brother squints one dark eyes closed as he groans. “That monster thing only opened one portal though . . .”

Deku swivels his head. “Only one portal was open?!”

“If one portal causes a hundred to open . . . there’s no rhyme or reason to it.” Hanako shakes his head, his gaze growing darker. “I'm certain of it . . . There are more portals open outside of the USJ.”

Katsuki can’t keep track of everything.

It’s just like before in the Flood Zone, watching Kirishima and Ashido fight that villain.

He’s standing at the edge of the field, a distance away as Hanako, Kageyama’s brother, and Deku gaze at the portals opening above them.

Why does this keep happening?

Why . . . Why is he so fucking useless—

“Kacchan!”

Something swishes around him—

Katsuki falls into a world of blue.

He looks down at his hand, not reacting to how they stretch and shrink all at once.

He’s still falling.

He scratches at his palms, peeling away at the burnt layers of skin on them.

He’s still falling.

He squeezes his fist, letting the dead flakes of his skin float down to oblivion.

He’s still falling.

.

.

.

That villain with the gas mask . . . He remembered Katsuki, didn’t he?

Is he from his middle school?

Is this some kind of revenge?

Is . . . Is this all of his fault?

. . .

Katsuki falls.

He falls out of that world of blue, his body burning with pain.

He collides with the ground.

But even the impact of the collision doesn’t compare to the burning sensation flooding his chest.

He tries to take a deep breath but it gets lodged in his lungs, unwilling to expel.

The sound of the destruction around him gets louder and louder.

He tries to take in a deep breath but his lungs still won’t work.

He’s clawing at his chest.

It’s not working.

His arms can’t move. His legs can’t move. He can’t move. He tries to breathe but its’ not working.

Nothing’s working. Nothing’s working. Nothing’s working—

Katsuki tries to move his head, unable to see anything but a blurred image of boulders ahead of him.

His body starts to shake without his prompt. He’s cold and hot all over. Every nerve in his muscles fire on and off, leaving him rattling and buzzing in a sea of pain that ebbs and flows.

He still can’t breathe.

He still can’t fucking breathe.

Is … Is he dying? Is this what dying feels like?

He can’t die! He doesn’t want to die! He can’t—He can’t—

“Bakugou!”

It burns, it fucking burns, his chest is on fire and he’s gagging and coughing and sputtering with his throat begging for reprieve.

Something hauls him up.

Voices echo around him, but he can’t focus. He still can’t fucking breathe.

Tears leak out of his eyes.

His vision turns dark at the edges.

He still can’t fucking breathe—

Something wraps against his torso.

It squeezes.

Then—

It roars through his throat all at once.

Swept in the wave, Katsuki splutters as his throat burns with stomach acid and blood.

The breath of air that enters his lungs is unnoticed, as Katsuki spills and bursts like a broken faucet.

By the time he finally stops, he’s tired, still bent over the arms holding him upwards.

Saliva drips out of his lips as Katsuki looks down at the mess before him.

Blood puddles surround him, with chunks and blobs floating in the red liquid.

It covers his pants, the ground, his hands—everything.

“ . . . Bakugou?”

Katsuki’s ears ring.

He got blood everywhere.

“Bakugou? Bakugou, what’s wrong?!”

With the taste of metal stuck on his tongue, Katsuki turns his head.

It’s his classmates.

The one with the bird head is by his side, his hero outfit torn to shreds. Patches of his neck are rubbed raw, while his beak is colored with dried blood.

The other classmate holding him is the guy with the mutant quirk. The one that looked a little bit like a dinosaur.

The bright yellow hero outfit is stained with red, and there’s scratches all over his face.

He doesn’t know their names.

He never knows their names.

“Bakugou . . . Are you okay . . . ?” The classmate with the bird head sputters, his eyes wide with worry.

. . . Is he okay?

If his throat wasn’t pounding and burning, he might have laughed at the question.

Instead, Katsuki stares at the blood around him and coughs, “I feel like shit.”

His two classmates glance between each other, before the one with the bird head sighs, “It seems like that’s the common feeling today.”

They sit him against a boulder, giving him a chance to catch a breath while they talk about what to do next.

At least the one with the bird head does. The one that looks like a dinosaur doesn’t say a word, just nodding along.

“Bakugou,” The one with the bird head rubs his neck, only to wince when he sees the blood that covers it. “With all the blood you . . . spewed, we think passing through those blue portals might have caused it.”

Katsuki raises a brow.

He thought his latest puke-fest was because Katara might have fucked up in treating him or something.

Then again, when he went through that portal—

It felt like he was dying.

Katsuki huffs, wincing at the pain it causes in his chest.

Everything probably compounded on each other—the wack-ass healing job, all the injuries, going through the portal—until he started choking in his own blood.

He has to be more careful.

If he ends up falling through another portal, he won’t survive it.

The classmate with the bird head sighs. “You have injuries that neither of us can heal. If you can move, we’ll let you rest next to Aizawa-sensei while we find someone to help.”

That gets the gears in his brain moving. “Sensei? You know where he is?”

It turns out that they’re somewhere in the lower part of the Mountain Zone, right next to the premature formations of caverns and tunnels.

It’s in one of these caves that his classmates lead him to Sensei.

Katsuki looks down at his sensei’s body lying on the ground.

Blood and gray bits stain the swollen cavern of what was previously known as his face.

Katsuki is completely numb. “He’s dead.”

“Death hasn’t claimed him!” The one with the bird head squawks. “As long as he’s still breathing—“

Katsuki stares at Sensei’s body.

He picks apart the blue and black bruises that climb up and down his arms. His eyes brush over the sulfur-like pus pooling in his swollen cheeks, the skin wrinkling enough to leave his right eye shut.

He can’t see the left eye. Too much brain matter is spilling out of the head wound to see it clearly.

Katsuki stares until nothing makes sense. “It should have been me.”

But the one with the bird head grabs his shoulders, his grip tightening as he levels him with a frown. “Bakugou, listen to me.”

He shakes his head, his dark eyes darting to somewhere Katsuki can’t see. “Sensei . . . The villain’s monster overwhelmed him . . . I was with Kageyama and his brother at the time, and I couldn’t do anything because my quirk, Dark Shadow, was rendered weak by the light of the blast.”

“Kageyama . . . “ He grits his teeth, “I don’t know what happened to him. He became . . . Something. Yet, even then, the villains threw Kageyama in one of those portals and laughed at his brother’s pain.”

“You might be a brute, Bakugou, but you’re not a villain.”

A little bit of hatred burns in his eyes. “You’re not someone so irredeemable to me.”

And he doesn’t know why, but those words echo in his head.

“But everyone fucks up! If you think you made a mistake, then you gotta be a man and fix it!”

Fix his mistakes . . .

Katsuki stares down at his Sensei.

Somehow, despite everything, he’s still breathing.

It takes a moment, with how his muscles strain under the pressure, but Katsuki bends down and lifts Sensei onto his back.

“W-what are you doing?!” The one with the bird head yells while the other classmate flutters around them. “If you move him around, you might—“

“I have to.” Katsuki grunts, as his Sensei’s weight presses against him. “It’s the only way I can take him to Lo—Katara.”

“Katara? You know where she is?!” His voice brightens with hope.

Katsuki nods, his resolve turning to steel as he rushes out of the cave.

“We just have to get to the Flood Zone.” He says as the light outside reaches him.

He pauses.

Katsuki raises his head, eyes widening at the scene in front of him.

The first thing wrong is the cruise ship that was stuck in the Flood Zone.

Except now, it’s shipwrecked on one of the peaks of the mountain range.

The white sleek metal of the ship is torn to pieces, with the ruins of the deck leaking water all over the Mountain Zone.

Worse, the blue portals that were bubbling in the sky have somehow multiplied, as rubble flies and falls out of the air.

Then, Katsuki looks down.

Nothing can describe the fucking shitstorm of the battles going on right in the center of the Mountain Zone.

There’s at least ten different fights going on all at once.

Even more fucked up, most of the fights are between the drugged-up villains.

If his hands were free, he would be rubbing his eyes. “. . . What the shit?”

The classmate with the dinosaur head catches up to him first. “ . . . Ah . . . It’s gotten worse . . . ”

His classmate with the bird head looks over the landscape at the battlefield with his frown deepening.

“Most of the portals have spilled their contents over to this zone. Enemy, ally, they’re all trapped within the chaos.”

The goth blabbering is more understandable than Deku’s mutters, but not by much. “I have to get down there.”

He glances over to them. “You two should focus on pulling all of our classmates out of those fights. With all that fucking Trigger in their system, the villains will be too busy fighting with themselves to notice anyone else.”

“. . . Do we have to take Aizawa-Sensei there?” The classmate with the dinosaur head asks. “It . . . It’ll be faster to bring Katara here . . . Right?”

Maybe.

But Katsuki remembers the look on her face when she was healing Kaminari and Jirou.

If he thinks hard enough, he might see wisps of the memories of her face while she was healing him.

“Nah. She won’t leave the battlefield. Not when our classmates are still fighting there.” Katsuki answers. “I have to bring Sensei to her.”

He bends his head, peering over the large battlefield encapsulated between the mountain range.

Katara’s quirk manipulates water.

If he wants to find her, his best bet is to find the biggest water source in the Mountain Zone.

Based on the topography of the zone, the only water would come from the portals originating from the Flood Zone.

Then it’s just rain logic. Water coming from the portal will accumulate and run off to the base of the mountain range.

He needs to get to the bottom of the mountains.

Katsuki takes another look down the rough landscape, eyes darting between the different fights and the rocky terrain.

Fuck. It’s gonna be a bitch to get down there.

A strum of anxiety runs along his skin but Katsuki pushes through the feelings.

It’s just rock-climbing in reverse. He’s done harder shit.

In fact—

Katsuki whirls his head to face his two classmates. “Hey. What are your names?”

They blink.

For a second, the faint sounds of the fighting downhill is the only sound that exists between them.

Then—

“. . . You don’t know our names?” The classmate with the bird head asks.

Does he think he’s asking for shits and giggles?

“Just fucking tell me.”

“Tokoyami.” The classmate with the bird head points to himself. “Kouda is right beside me.”

Tokoyami. Kouda.

See? If he can fucking do that, he can run down a mountain with Sensei on his back.

Nevertheless, Katsuki turns his head back to the battlefield.

It’s now or never.

Katsuki inhales, his lungs aching from the sharp breath of air.

Without a goodbye, Katsuki jumps off the mountain.

The second he lands, he’s off, racing down the range.

The terrain inclines downwards, with gravity increasing its hold on him.

The wind roars in his ears but Katsuki only grunts, grinding his boot against the ground to dodge a flying hook.

He’s in the thick of the fights now, weaving through fucked-up villains.

Silver gleams in the light.

Katsuki bends his head forward on instinct.

A long, shimmery sword moves in an arc above him, slicing the very tip of Sensei’s hair.

“Shit!” Katsuki keeps running, because the moment he looks back is the moment it’s all over.

He can’t risk fighting, not with Sensei bleeding out on his back.

But as he’s dashing down the hills, jumping over the ridges, a screech follows his trail.

He glances to the side.

A canine villain runs on all fours next to him, their glowing red eyes fixated on him.

“I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you!” Foam drips from their fangs.

There’s a meter of space between them and with each jump he takes, the villain takes two more.

Five jumps later, and the villain is right next to his face.

They’re too close!

Katsuki clenches his fist, still running even when the angry huff of air that escapes from the gaps of the villain’s teeth brushes up against him.

“Hakujoudai!”

Suddenly, a grayish blur flies right next to Katsuki, hitting the villain right in the eyes.

The villain tumbles, and Katsuki keeps running, leaving their anguished roars in the dust.

“Bakugou!” Another one of those kids from 1-D hops to his side, somehow covered head to toe in glitter and scratches. “B-Bakugou, slow down!”

Not a chance. “Unless you know where Katara is, stay out of my way!”

The ground crumbles on his other side.

A green braid flies in the air as his other classmate with the frog face lands next to his side. “Is that Sensei?”

Katsuki forces himself to ignore the scratches and tears on her hero outfit. “One of the fuckin’ villains got him. The only way he’s makin’ it through is with Katara’s quirk.”

And Sensei has to make it through.

At least if Katsuki can do that, if he can save someone for once in his life—

It wouldn’t fix everything, but it’s better than the shit he was doing before.

He can’t fail.

Fuck it. Katsuki’s not failing, no matter what.

“With all the fights, it’ll be nearly impossible to get to the bottom of the Mountain Zone safely.” His classmate with the frog face narrows her eyes. “Let us help.”

What?

“Yeah, we can clear the way for you! Hakujoudai already distracted that one villain!” The 1-D girl with the glitter shit yelps as she skips over the rock ledge.

“Fuck off!” Katsuki grits his teeth. “I’m the one dealing with this!”

Suddenly, a villain jumps right in front of him, fangs out and screaming.

Shit. He can’t dodge in time—

A pink tongue wraps around the villain’s face.

With a quick swirl of her tongue, his classmate with the frog face spins the villain out of his way.

Katsuki doesn’t stop running.

He stares at her for a second though.

“Don't get confused, Bakugou.” She mumbles with her tongue whipping behind her. “I’m not giving you an option. We’re helping you whether you like it or not.”

As Katsuki jumps down another ledge, two shiny balls of light glow underneath him.

It’s the bright eyes of a villain.

They smile below him, their face glazed with sadistic euphoria.

Crack.

“Aagh!” The girl from 1-D screams, swinging a rusty iron bar at the villain’s face.

Time seems to slow as the iron collides with the villain’s skin, rippling from the sheer force.

She swings and the villain folds like paper.

“Tsu is right!” Her eyes glow with determination. “You might be a jerk, and I might not be a hero, but we’re on the same side. We’re—we’re doing this together!”

Katsuki stares at them—both of them.

They meet his stare without hesitation, not a single trace of doubt as they race along his side.

This isn’t what he planned. Saving Sensei is supposed to be his mission, not theirs. It’s the only way he can fix his fuck-ups!

Yet—

Katsuki is tired.

“ . . . If you can’t keep up with me, it’s not my fault.” Katsuki finally replies.

His classmate with the frog face doesn’t react, her face still keeping its neutral expression.

But the girl from 1-D shoots him a smile big enough to scrunch up her face, as that flying wisp follows her steps. “We won’t let you down!”

Katsuki swallows down the bile in his throat and prays she’s right.

But somehow—

Katsuki runs down the mountain ledge, with his classmates clearing the path for him.

The desperate dodges that slowed him down when he was alone are gone—one of his classmates is always there to block any attack.

Even that weird ass wisp flies next to him, ready to buzz around any villain that gets too close.

He’s not out of the woods yet, not by a long shot.

But he can breathe.

He glances at the girls running next to him.

His classmate with the frog face sends him a curious look while the girl from 1-D gives him a tired thumbs-up.

This . . . It ain’t bad.

Huh.

Katsuki huffs, peering over the ridges he still has to jump across. “You two . . . What are your names?”

“What?! We literally fought in those hero combat trials!” The girl from 1-D shrieks, shock written all over her face. “I’m the one that threw glitter all over your face! How could you forget that?!”

He might remember the five hours it took to wash that shit out of his hair, but he can’t remember a name he never knew. “Spit it out already.”

“She’s Yashiro-chan, and you can call me Tsu.” The classmate with the frog face says as she hops across another ledge.

“Tsu. Yashiro.” Katsuki repeats. “I’ll remember it.”

For some reason, Yashiro’s lips wobble as if she’s a second away from laughing. “Tsu? He’s not gonna like that . . .”

What the hell is she talking about?

“We’re halfway across the mountain ridge.” Tsu says, not bothering to answer Yashiro. “There aren’t as many villains but it’s getting steeper.”

She’s not wrong. The incline of the terrain is almost vertical.

It’s like the weight of Sensei’s body on his back has doubled, and Katsuki has long abandoned the fast pace he started with.

One careless step and they’ll end up falling down the mountain.

“Shit.” Katsuki uses one hand to balance himself against the cliff behind him, hissing with every harsh jump he takes.

He lands too hard on his last jump, and Sensei’s head bumps against his shoulder, staining it with gray fluids.

Tsu glances at him, her face turning three shades paler. “Bakugou . . .”

He knows how this looks.

He knows.

“Keep going!” He barks.

But he can’t stop.

If he stops, it’s all over.

Of course, just as he thinks that, shit turns sideways.

“Guys?” Yashiro wipes her face as she looks upwards. “There’s a really big portal opening up in the sky!”

The ‘really big’ portal is fucking gigantic.

It sears through the sky, a serrated knife that scorches the air.

“That . . . That shouldn’t be possible, right . . .“ Tsu whispers as they cross under the portal. “Casting such a large shadow?”

Katsuki narrows his eyes at the portal that bubbles above them.

With how big that portal is, it’s a surprise it isn’t sucking them all up somewhere.

Unless . . .

It’s too busy dropping something.

“Fuck!” Katsuki picks up the slack, racing acrossing the ledge. “The portal isn’t making the shadow. It’s the shit falling out of it!”

“Whatever it is, it’s huge!” Yashiro’s eyes widen as she glances up at the shadow slowly doubling in size.

With how fast that shadow is growing, there’s no fucking way they can outrace it.

“Maybe—Eep!” Yashiro ducks away from a villain’s punch. “M-maybe it’s something soft?”

Right at that moment, a large mass slowly ebbs out of the portal.

Katsuki can’t stop staring as the massive structure lowers itself out of the portal.

It’s like a snake, constructed from huge rugged steel boulders that slide in sync.

The largest boulder emerges from the portal.

It blinks.

“I should have never said anything!” Yashiro screams.

The steel monster screeches, a pitched noise that scrapes the inside of Katsuki’s head.

It drops.

It drops fucking fast.

“We need to go!” Katsuki takes off, running down the mountain even as the shadow grows bigger and bigger—

“Bakugou! We won’t make it!” Tsu yells by his side, her movements hastened with panic.

He needs to think.

It doesn’t matter which direction they run towards, that monster is too big and unpredictable to dodge.

They need something fast, something that can propel them out of its hitting range—

Katsuki looks down at his palm.

With the stench of smoke in the air, he activates his quirk.

It refuses to spark.

Fuck.

Fuck! Why?! Why now of all times—

The steel monster whips its tail against the ridge, causing the mountain to shake with rocks and screaming villains.

He doesn’t have time.

He needs to think.

Come on, think! Think! Think—

“Bakugou,” Tsu calls out to him, her tongue flowing in the wind.

Her tongue . . .

“You think you can carry all of our weights?!” He yells over the chaos.

Tsu darts her dark eyes towards the monster that’s still falling, then back to him.

Some kind of resolve settles in them. “Not normally but I guess I’ll have to go plus ultra.”

“What are you guys planning?! I don’t think—Eee!” Yashiro shrieks as Tsu grabs her wrist, pulling her close.

Katsuki glances up at the monster, its red eyes flaring with rage.

He whips out his belt, tying it across Sensei’s body to fasten them.

Right.

Time to go plus ultra.

Tsu grabs his and Yashiro’s hands.

Her tongue flies through the air, wrapping across one of the boulders of the snake monsters.

It hooks.

They take off.

Tsu’s tongue acts as a latch, pulling them towards the steel monster falling.

“Aaaahhhh! We’re gonna end up squished!” Yashiro clutches Tsu tighter as that blue-white wisp follows them into the air.

Katsuki bears the brunt of the wind hitting his face, grunting as they soar close to the monster.

He glances at Tsu, surprised that she’s still holding on, though her eyes are squeezing from the tension on her tongue.

“Yashiro!” He yells, “When I tell you, use that fucking rod!”

Yashiro reels back. “What?!”

Velocity works fast, pulling them closer and closer to the monster.

A few more seconds and they’ll hit the steel monster dead-on.

“Yashiro!” He has to explain it to her. “We need to—fuck—We need to fucking swing!”

“ . . . swing?” Yashiro narrows her eyes as strands of her pale hair whips against her face.

Suddenly, her eyes widens. “Swing! You mean swing under the monster!”

They’re getting close.

Katsuki’s vision fills with steel.

“Do it! Now!”

Within a second, they’re a meter away.

Yashiro screams, kicking the stone with her feet and swinging the iron bar against the boulder.

They accelerate.

That is—

“Hold on …” Tsu mumbles as they shift in velocity, swinging downwards.

Like a stringed ball on a pendulum, they pivot.

With the steel monster falling closer to the ground, they descend even lower.

“Wah!” Yashiro lifts her feet in the air, wiggling to avoid the ground as it comes close.

Tsu’s tongue pulls taut.

They rise.

More importantly—

They're right out of the range of the monster’s shadow.

Katsuki glances back, as the steel monster is a second from making land.

“Pull back your tongue!” He yells out to Tsu. “Now!”

Tsu groans, and their velocity shifts.

Detached from the monster, they fly straight across, the ground coming closer to sight.

But right as they crash—

The steel monster hits the ground.

There’s tremors, rumbles, the ground shaking and pain traveling up and down Katsuki’s body as he rolls.

There’s a second he thinks of protecting Sensei—

The world turns black.

Screeches, cries, and screams ring in his ears, but Katsuki is powerless to react.

For a second, he exists beyond the pain, the agony, the aches.

For a second, he is nothing.

.

.

.

There was a time it was this dark before, wasn’t there?

A long time ago.

When he was little and tried impressing his mom with his quirk.

In the process, he blew up the ceiling light.

His mom had protected him, wrapping her body around him and taking the brunt of the impact from the falling ceiling light.

He didn’t know until later that she had to get stitches from how the broken glass scraped her skin.

It was just one of those things that happened.

She made dinner that same night. She worked on another project the next morning. She went out with her friends the next evening.

Nothing changed, so Katsuki wiped the incident from his mind and went on with his life.

. . . Why is he even thinking of his mom at a time like this?

She warned him about something, didn’t she . . . ?

.

.

.

“Bakugou!”

Katsuki forces his eyes to blink open.

Bright red fills his vision.

“Bakugou! Come on, you gotta get up!”

His vision clears.

Kirishima has one knee against the ground, his face covered in scratches and blood.

His eyes are sharp, gleaming as if the experience of combat had sculpted them. “Bakugou! Come on!”

He stretches his hand out.

Katsuki grabs it.

He’s pulled to a sitting position, still shaking with the sound of the earth rumbling in his head.

“B-bakugou! You’re okay!”

Katsuki darts his eyes.

A bloody, teary Yashiro rubs her eyes, her face full of alarm.

But the person beside her—

“ . . . Ponytail?” Katsuki squints.

“It’s Yaoyorozu . . .” She swipes her black bangs away from her face, revealing dark eyes widening with shock. “ . . . Bakugou . . . h-how did you—I saw what happened to you in that explosion!”

Katsuki huffs out. “Long ass story. Where the hell are we?”

“We ended up falling into those portal things.” Kirishima narrows his eyes. “It’s throwing everyone straight down to the Mountain Zone.”

“Y-yeah!” Yashiro nods, “W-we’re at the base of the mountain. There was a huge avalanche after that monster fell. I-I think we got swept up in it maybe . . .”

Katsuki takes the effort to look around.

It doesn’t look like the Mountain Zone.

While the ground is flatter, the scattered puddles of water and gravel everywhere makes the landscape just as hazardous.

Worse, they’re smack dab in the middle, bordered by the rocky cliffs of the mountains behind them, and the multiple villain fights in front of them.

Flashes of his classmates pop up throughout the battles, much more than he had seen when he was running down the hill.

Katsuki whirls around, witnessing the chaos of metal clashing, flesh pounding, blood spilling.

This is a battlefield.

Yaoyorozu swivels an iron sword in her hand, exhaling a slow breath. “Something’s happening to the villains that’s making them go berserk. If I had enough time, I could make a compound that could render unconsciousness—”

“Momo! Watch out!” Yashiro yells.

Another doped-up villain screeches, rushing across the zone right in her direction.

But before Katsuki can think of moving—

“Aaugh!” The villain screams as Yaoyorozu swings a steel shield, knocking them out.

The villain’s body hits the ground as Yaoyorozu exhales.

But with the violence roaring in the background, a single villain down is nothing.

Yaoyorozu raises her head, her hollowed cheeks underscoring her bitter expression. “We can’t go on like this.”

“Damn it!” Kirishima clenches his fist. “If we knew where Thirteen was, we could stop this!”

Thirteen?

But what about Sensei—

Katsuki turns his head.

Tsu balances herself against a rock, her eyes half-lidded as she sticks her reddened tongue out from the corner of her mouth.

She’s carrying someone.

It’s Sensei.

Sensei.

All the horror rushes into him like an epiphany set aflame.

That’s right . . . He had to get Sensei fixed.

Despite every part of his body screaming in agony—

Katsuki rises.

“Bakugou!” Yashiro stops blubbering, her eyes widening as Katsuki pushes himself to his feet.

“I don’t give a shit what those villains are on.” Katsuki squeezes his fingers, making blood flow through them. “I’m saving Sensei.”

“Saving Sensei . . . “ Yaoyorozu’s mouth wobbles. “Bakugou . . . “

Katsuki cuts her off before she can start blabbering. “Don’t piss me off with the crying. I’m here, ain’t I? If I can get him to Katara . . .”

He straightens his back. “This is my fuck-up. I gotta fix it.”

“Bakugou . . .” Kirishima turns to him, his eyes glowing with something Katsuki couldn’t name.

But the moment passes and Kirishima turns to the rest of them. “He’s right! Katara healed him and I saw her fix Jirou and Kaminari. If we get to her . . . we can save Sensei!”

Yet, Yashiro babbles, “But T-Tsu can hardly speak—or fight anymore, and Bakugou’s pretty beat and I’m not good at any of this, and —I mean—it’s—“

Yashiro sucks in a sharp hiss of air.

“No, gotta be positive! We can do this!” She pumps her fist, as her will-o-wisp floats around her. “W-we can do this! We just have to find Katara!”

Katsuki swallows the gulp of blood that rises up his throat.

Talk is easier than action, and Sensei’s on borrowed time.

How the hell is he supposed to find her with everything raging on?

How . . . How the hell is he supposed to save Sensei like this?

Right as he thinks it, the ground shakes.

A large, plump villain flies in the air, landing with a crunch as they bounce on the ground.

Something yellow rises next to the villain.

“Aahhh!” Yashiro races in front of them, hands gripping her pants tight as the wisp floats by her side. “D-don’t come any closer! I’m warning you!”

Yaoyorozu’s brows furrow as she looks over Yashiro’s shoulder. “No . . . that is . . . “

The yellow thing shakes itself, revealing matted blonde hair, tired blue eyes, a torn P.E uniform, and a damaged traffic safety earring hanging from one ear.

Minamoto stares at the five of them, blood smearing the corner of his mouth. “ . . . Senpai?”

Yashiro babbles, tears swelling in her eyes. “Kou!”

He takes one step.

Then, another.

Then, he’s running like his life depends on it, crashing into Yashiro and swinging her into his arms.

“Senpai! Senpai, You’re okay! You’re okay! I-I’m glad . . .”

He slows his swinging, the bright smile wiping off his face when he looks in Katsuki’s direction.

No, He’s looking in Tsu’s direction.

He’s looking at Sensei.

His arms drop completely, all the joy in his body draining away. “What . . . What happened to Aizawa-sensei?”

“He got hurt . . .” Kirishima answers, “But we can save him!”

Tsu doesn’t even blink, her tired eyes glancing to Yashiro instead.

It steels Yashiro’s nerves, as she gives Minamoto a resolute stare. “Kou, we need to find Katara to heal Aizawa-sensei!”

“I know where she is.” Minamoto nods, catching on fast.

Despite everything, it doesn’t take long to find her.

He feels it first, the puddles underneath his feet drying up in the blink of an eye.

Then, he sees it.

A massive water whip slams into a villain’s stomach, tossing them to the ground.

Katara stands in the midst of the collapsed villains, with a haggard stance and her braid long undone.

One of the villains groans, struggling to rise.

Katara whips her head, the wind almost carrying her voice away. “Kou!”

“I’m on it!” Minamoto pushes them backwards.

He spins his staff between his hands, before slamming it into the water-soaked ground.

He huffs and lightning sparks envelop him.

Half a second later, the lightning travels across the water stains, electrocuting the rest of the villains.

They shake with sparks.

Then, no movement at all.

All the villains around them are defeated.

Katsuki swallows this knowledge down his throat.

But it doesn’t matter, because they found Katara and they can finally fix Sensei.

“Katara!” Yashiro calls out, “We need your help!”

But when Katara trudges over to their side, the exhaustion in her face only seems to double. “ . . . Aizawa-sensei . . . ”

Kirishima helps Sensei off Tsu’s back, while Yaoyorozu makes a sheet to lay his body down on.

Katara stares at Sensei.

“So?” Katsuki’s throat hurts from the effort of speaking. “Heal him.”

Katara doesn’t respond, lowering herself to her knees.

Her wrists twist.

A mist of brown, murky water floats to her hands.

She hovers her hands over Sensei’s head.

She inhales.

Her hands grow green.

Katsuki can breathe now.

But then—

She gasps.

The water loses its glow, seeping back into the dirt.

Her hands drop as she takes giant gulps of air, her chest heaving.

“Katara!” Minamoto and Yashiro rush to her side, supporting her.

Katsuki doesn’t get it.

“. . . What's going on?” He asks her.

Katara doesn’t answer.

He tries again. “Hey . . . Tell me what’s going on. You’re supposed to heal Sensei.”

“ . . . Bakugou.” Yaoyorozu calls out, her voice stuffy and cracked.

He ignores her. “You’re supposed to heal him.”

“Bakugou.” Tsu’s croaks.

He ignores her too. “What are you waiting for?! Heal Sensei!”

“Bakugou!”

Katsuki whips his head. “What? She has to heal him!”

Kirishima stares at him, an expression reminiscent of basalt right before it crumbles.

“Bakugou . . . She . . . she can’t.”

He doesn’t accept it. “The hell she can’t.”

He whirls back to Katara.

With a clearer mind, he notices her state.

Her P.E uniform is ragged and torn, with the edges ripped off entirely.

Scratches and bruises paint her tanned skin, with her black eye the most distinguishing of them all.

Her gaze hasn’t left Sensei, her eyes focusing on the gray liquid soaking in the black strands of Sensei’s hair.

Her arms and hands shake.

“ . . . I . . . I can do it . . .” The words fall from her quivering lips, much too quiet.

“Katara . . . “ Minamoto’s eyes start to glisten, as he holds her up with his arm. “You . . .”

Yashiro doesn’t say anything, her mouth trembling as she holds Katara’s arm.

“Bakugou,” Yaoyorozu says. “She can’t.”

But she healed him.

She healed Katsuki.

She healed Jirou.

She healed Kaminari.

She probably healed half of the class while they were separated.

So why can’t she heal Sensei?!

She has to heal Sensei!

If not, then what was the point? What was the fucking point of all of this?!

But Katara still doesn’t move, kneeling with her shaking hands, her soundless words that never leave her lips, and her eyes that plead for the best but have accepted the worst anyways.

A quivering, seizing sound comes out from Sensei’s throat.

But no one moves, watching as he chokes on his last remaining breaths.

What . . .

What the fuck is Katsuki supposed to do now?

“Kacchan!”

And just like that, he comes.

Deku rushes across the battlefield, flaring in the sky.

Why . . .

Why does he always appear in his lowest moments?

Deku slows to a stop, his face paling as he finally takes in the sight of Sensei.

Katsuki watches closely, waiting to see the moment he breaks.

He waits.

And he keeps waiting.

And he’ll keep waiting, until the world ends and there’s nothing left because Deku somehow sees the mess of their Sensei and still keeps moving.

He kneels down, bringing his hands with his broken fingers to rest above Katara’s.

“I . . . I’m going to try something . . .” He says as he lifts her hands aside.

Yashiro tracks Deku’s movements almost as much as he does, her amber eyes fixated on how Deku cups his Sensei’s chin.

Deku reaches into his pocket, pulling out something white and small.

He places it in Sensei’s mouth, moving his chin to give the illusion of chewing.

Blood drips onto Deku’s stained gloves.

Katsuki averts his eyes.

. . .

Wait . . .

. . . What?

The bruises on Sensei’s skin knits together, threading like an intricate spider web.

Katsuki blinks.

The wounds are gone, with Sensei’s skin almost new.

“What the hell?!” Kirishima voices his exact thoughts, eyes widening at the sight of Sensei’s skin healing itself.

A small, tired smile cracks on Deku’s face. “Ah, I wasn’t sure it would work here.”

With a shaking hand, Katara reaches out to Sensei’s face.

Slowly, as if her hand is full of lead, she scrapes the layer of gray and brown fluid staining Sensei’s face.

It squishes under her handling, rolling into a large clump of sludge that sticks to her skin.

Katsuki can barely hold his stomach at the sight.

Yet, Katara flings it away, her eyes roaming back to Sensei’s body.

There isn’t a trace of a scratch on Sensei’s face.

“He’s—He’s fine!” Yashiro covers her gasp with her hands, her eyes going big and wide. “Midoriya . . . I thought your quirk made you super strong . . . D-did you heal him?”

“No.” Deku’s face is firm. “I didn’t.”

“B-But—“ Minamoto stumbles, before gesturing to Sensei, his face squeezing from the force of his scowl. “He’s completely okay now! You didn’t do anything?!”

“I saw you give Sensei something to chew.” Yaoyorozu stares at Deku. “B-but I don’t know anything that can heal like that.”

Tsu stares at Deku. “Midoriya-chan . . . ”

Deku looks down at his empty hand. “Someone gave it to me to save others . . . But it was my last one.”

Katsuki looks back at Sensei, his injuries disappearing like it never existed.

Why . . .

Katsuki looks down at his hands—the same hands his quirk refuse to spark for.

He looks back at Deku, a smile of relief unfolding on his face as he feels Sensei’s pulse.

Something gets stuck in Katsuki’s throat.

But then—

He whips his head at the sound of a portal whooshing.

Across the battlefield, a blue portal appears, spitting out a gray blur.

The blur flies out, its feet scraping against the ground to slow its velocity.

It stops.

Katsuki blinks at the monstrosity that steps out of the portal.

Black, viscous liquid drips off its form, as it shakes misshapen limbs and overgrown muscles.

The creature flexes its arms, dropping a man down to the ground.

“Damn it.” The man huffs, tossing aside a hastily-made sling as his arm hangs limp, “Monk class my ass. That brat is another mini boss.”

The voice is too familiar.

He must have been the villain that was talking on the radio.

This is the main villain behind the USJ invasion.

Katsuki tenses, shifting into a fighting stance.

This is a whole different ballpark.

Suddenly, the portal ripples.

A boy drops from it, slamming his feet down against the ground.

Katsuki sees the P.E uniform and recalculates.

It’s another of the 1-D kids. The happy-go-lucky boy with the strong air quirk.

Yet, his usual smile has disappeared, replaced with a scowl that darkens his visage.

“That monster won’t win a match against me.” He spreads his feet apart, his eyes burning with unbidden rage. “Give up.”

The villain—the main villain—glares at the boy with red seedy eyes.

The taxidermied hands on his face creak as he scratches his neck. “You fucking brat . . . Don’t underestimate my nomu.”

The boy exhales, his body steeling with determination.

He glances at their direction.

His eyes widen, and his guard falls apart completely. “Katara!”

Katara looks back at him. “Aang . . . “

“Aang! You’re okay?!” Yashiro and Minamoto are less restrained.

But the commotion attracts the main villain’s attention.

Red, piercing eyes shake as they focus on Sensei.

“ . . . What? I fucking killed him. How the fuck is he still alive?!”

But the rage emanating all over his body disappears as his eyes settle on Deku.

He stops.

“Huh?” The villain tilts his head, almost as if he’s confused. “. . . You’re not Ghost, but . . . what?”

Katsuki turns to Deku, hoping for an explanation.

But Deku looks just as confused at the villain’s mumbling, his focus switching between the villain and an unconscious Sensei.

Suddenly, a purple mist manifests from thin air before forming into a person.

It’s the other villain.

This time, Deku reacts. “You!”

But the main villain is louder, his thin frame starting to vibrate with rage. “. . . Kurogiri! What the fuck?! Why’s the hero brat a doppelgänger?! He looks just like—“

“Perhaps this is a discussion better left for Sensei, Shigaraki.” The mist villain interrupts.

For a moment, the battlefield is a wordless miasma of chaos, with each side staring at the other.

The air is thick with tension.

“Kurogiri,” The main villain growls. “If you weren’t our ride, I would have fucking killed you.”

The mist villain doesn’t react, insteading his gaze drifting away. “Will you need the assistance of Nomu-1432AZ8?”

Katsuki follows his eyes.

Another monster claws out of the blue portal, stretching it withs its pale, emaciated limbs.

The main villain looks at the monster and tsks. “I want to, but any portal it makes might bring that fucking weirdo back. I can’t rush into another boss battle again. Not when All-Might hasn't shown up yet.”

“I’ll let it watch the fight.” He shakes his head. “When I find Ghost’s lazy ass, I’ll make him talk. For now . . .”

He directs his gaze towards the boy—Aang.

His voice vibrates with excitement. “Kurogiri, crush them.”

“As you wish.”

The mist villain stretches out his hand, forming a giant, swirling purple portal.

Katsuki hears a screech.

He whirls his head.

The steel monster still lying on the base of the mountain is getting sucked up.

Fuck.

Deku sees it first, his eyes widening as he yells out. “Everyone, duck!”

This time, the portal is low enough that the steel monster doesn’t shake the ground when it drops.

Yet—

It lets out a piercing screech that rings throughout the battlefield.

Katsuki has to cover his ears, the nauseating sound penetrating his brain.

The steel monster gazes down at them with scorching eyes, as the main villain cackles.

“Try and fucking dodge this now!”

The steel monster spews out a bright soaring light.

It comes too fast, burns too quirk—

It collides with the air, recoiling as if there’s an invisible barrier.

“Hurry up and run!” Kageyama’s brother races down the mountain ridge, his body glowing with an indigo aura. “I c-can’t hold this for long!”

“Kacchan!” Deku calls out. “Aizawa-sensei is still knocked out.”

Damn it.

“Everyone, get out of here!” Katsuki warns, pulling Sensei’s body on top of his back.

The steel monster opens its mouth again, most likely to let out another ear-piercing screech.

A torrent of water shoots straight into its mouth instead.

Katsuki swivels, as Aang twists his arms, manipulating a large whirlpool that leaves the monster spinning and shrieking.

What the fuck? Isn’t his quirk based on air?

No. He can’t focus on that right now.

Aang continues his assault, unleashing a whirlwind that tussles the steel monster around.

Katsuki forces himself to keep moving.

Somehow, Deku ends up right by his side. “We need to take down that monster. Maybe it’s made from one of the villain’s quirk?”

Ignoring the spark of irritation from Deku’s mutters, Katsuki glances at the villain duo.

While the main villain is laughing his head off, the other mist villain just silently watches.

They’re not doing anything.

“If it was made from their quirks, those fuckers would have been controlling it. It’s like it’s some kind of freak monster they’re letting rampage.” Katsuki answers.

“Yeah, it seems independent.” Deku narrows his eyes. “You take Aizawa-sensei to safety. If he wakes up, he can stop the other villains. I’ll jump into the fray, see if I can take some villains down.”

Is he fucking serious?

Does he think he'll wait on the sidelines, watching him fight those shitheads?

He grinds his teeth to dust. “What? you think you’re the fucking shit, huh? All your fucking fingers are broken! That fake ass quirk does more damage to you than the villains!”

For the first time in his fucking spineless life, Deku glares at him. “Don’t call it that! I’m making this quirk into my own!”

Before Katsuki can snap back—

Another white-hot beam shoots at them.

Katsuki’s instincts work fast, his muscles tensing as he jumps away from the blast.

He rolls across the ground, dropping Sensei.

Fuck.

Katsuki tries to stand, but his legs refuse to cooperate.

He turns his head.

The steel monster stares right at him, soaked and angry.

Like a rattlesnake preparing to bite, it bends its head backwards.

He can’t dodge it.

He can’t dodge it.

He can’t dodge it.

Katsuki had said it a hundred times before to all the extras that used to follow his every footsteps: if he’s ever gonna die, he’ll stare his death right in the eye, like a true fucking hero.

Yet, as death’s pale scythe gleams over him—

Katsuki closes his eyes, shaking.

“Bakugou!”

Katsuki’s eyes snap open.

A giant water whip twists around the steel monster’s body, stopping it in its tracks.

Katara stretches one arm out, her face paling as she huffs.

. . . She saved him?

The steel monster rages against the constraints.

It turns its angry eyes towards Katara.

“Katara! Damn it!” Minamoto yells, rushing to her side.

The monster changes course completely, whipping its tail around right in their direction.

Katsuki sees it happen.

Katara gasps, her eyes wide open.

Minamoto tenses, his arms stretched out to protect her.

It doesn’t matter in the end.

The iron tail slams into them both.

It sweeps in a giant arc, making them skid against the rough ground, before launching them right at the mountain ridge.

In a blink of an eye, they shoot through the air and crash into the base of the mountain ridge.

The mountain ridge shakes, a giant cloud of dust enshrouding their bodies from Katsuki’s sight.

“Kou! Katara!” Yashiro yells, reaching out to them yet too far away.

“No!” The towers of water fall apart as Aang stares at the site of the collision, terror shaking his body.

Fuck.

Fuck—

How . . . How can anyone survive that?

Katsuki keeps staring at the dust and rocks that fall down the side of the mountain, the force of the crash creating a rocky avalanche that rolls down their way.

But then—

The rocks crumble together, shifting and twisting into a giant sea of debris that climbs in height.

Aang rises above the wave of earth, his face twisting in sheer rage.

What the fuck?

The sea of rocks folds over the steel monster—

And pelts everyone under the blast.

Katsuki races through the flood of rocks and boulders, dodging the bigger pieces that fly through the air.

Worse, the steel monster isn’t phased, merely screeching and blowing through the cascading rubble.

Shit.

There's too much going on.

Worse, he has no idea where Sensei is.

“Bakugou!” Kageyama’s brother calls out, his aura blocking the heavy boulders from raining down on both of them.

They need to do something about that fucking monster. “Can’t you hold it down with your quirk?!”

Kageyama’s brother looks up at the monster, his hands glowing with the aura.

But the steel monster shakes off his aura, continuing its rampage on the battlefield.

“Ugh! my telekinesis isn’t strong enough!” Kageyama’s brother says.

Katsuki doesn’t get the chance to reply.

The earth shakes instead, knocking them on their asses.

Katsuki lowers himself close to the ground to keep his balance. “None of those fucking earth attacks are doing shit either!”

Kageyama’s brother turns to look at Aang as he summons another earth wave. “Aang’s not thinking about that. He just wants to hurt it. I don’t know how to snap him out of it—”

All of a sudden, his eyes widen. “Oh, no. Hanako!”

Katsuki scans the battlefield, riffling through the visual chaos until he finds him.

Hanako dashes through the enemies and debris falling around him, conviction fueling him as he runs to where Katara and Minamoto crashed.

Katsuki narrows his eyes.

A villain rushes close to Hanako, only to stumble when Hanako ducks between their legs, racing away.

But Hanako should have been able to phase through that attack.

Unless he’s out of energy . . . ?

Yet, when Katsuki looks again, he finally notices exactly where Hanako is.

He’s right under the shadow of the steel monster.

Katsuki swivels around to face Kageyama’s brother. “You need to drag his ass back here!”

“I’m trying!” Kageyama’s brother shouts, as sweat rolls down the side of his face. “I can’t cover Aang’s back, hold up all the rocks, and get Hanako at the same time!”

Katsuki tsks, the gears in his brain roaring to keep up with all the fucking shit happening.

“We have to get close to him.” He decides. “Does distance limit your quirk?”

Kageyama’s brother bites his lip. “I . . . I don’t know, but we have to help him anyway!”

With that, they run north of the battlefield, racing through falling rubble and unhinged villains to follow him.

Katsuki glimpses at the steel monster just to see it aim a beam of light right at Aang.

“Aang!” Kageyama’s brother slows down, his hand stretching out.

Just as the beam is about to hit, it collides with the sparkling barrier, splintering into colorful rays that dissipate.

The anger in Aang’s eyes disappears as he whirls around, staring wide-eyed at Kageyama’s brother.

“Aang! Pull it together!” Kageyama’s brother screams through the discord of the battlefield. “I’m mad too, but you’ll hurt all of us like this!”

Aang’s eyes are big, trembling, as he turns his head.

Katsuki follows his gaze.

Fuck.

Hanako’s luck had run out.

The will-o-wisp that was following him is now buzzing in place as Hanako struggles against a large stone slab pinning him to the ground.

Worse, the steel monster’s eyes are right on him.

Like a snake watching a mouse wriggle in its trap, the steel monster regards Hanako.

Katsuki’s heart pounds against his chest. “Get outta there!”

But Hanako is miles away, his face pale as he looks at the steel monster eyeing him and the giant boulder burying his leg.

The steel monster curls its form.

It lifts its tail into the air.

The metal shines under harsh light, promising a painful demise.

All Hanako can do is stare at his approaching fate under the growing shadow.

Reluctant acceptance echoes in his yellow eyes.

“NO!”

It happens under the span of a second.

Maybe even half a second.

The ground underneath Hanako’s body fuzzes, the rock and dirt blurring until it’s nothing but an amalgam of brown.

It ripples and roils and bubbles before turning blue entirely.

Hanako falls into the blue portal still burning reality at its edges.

Katsuki turns around.

Another blue portal sears through space, right in front of Aang, depositing a disheveled Hanako onto the ground.

Aang’s hand is still outstretched as he falls towards Hanako.

Remnants of blue bubbles around his fingertips.

Katsuki can’t push past the surprise that seizes him.

Not this time.

“ . . . Aang,” Kageyama’s brother gawks as Aang floats down to the ground. “Did you just make a portal?”

Aang gazes at his hands, at the blue evaporating off his fingers. “I think I did . . .”

But the steel monster doesn’t wait for them.

It lets out another agonizing screech that brings them to their knees.

It whips its tail, aiming right at them.

Kageyama’s brother reacts quick. “Watch out!”

His aura pulls Katsuki aside, letting the iron tail miss his head by an inch.

The aura throws Hanako in the other direction, giving him enough time to twist his body and plant his feet on the ground.

But both him and Katsuki are powerless as the tail grabs Aang and Kageyama’s brother.

It wraps around their bodies, leaving them struggling as the steel monster pulls them closer.

“Ritsu! Aang!” Hanako screams.

Aang slumps over the monster’s tail, exhaustion seizing him.

Just as trapped as Aang, Kageyama’s brother lights up with energy.

Blood drips down from his nose. “I-it’s alright. With my telekinesis, I c-can stop it from crushing us completely.”

“Ritsu . . . “ Hanako’s eyes start to glisten. “You saved me . . . ?”

“I . . . I can’t understand you, Hanako, but . . . “ Kageyama’s brother coughs, “. . . I never wanted you to die.”

Suddenly, big, wet tears are rolling down his cheeks. “I-I never wanted anyone to die!”

Right next to him, Aang doesn’t move, his body gravely still as he opens one half-lidded eye. “ . . . Ritsu . . . ”

The steel monster snarls.

The tail wrenches around them tighter, squeezing and squeezing and squeezing.

“Ritsu!” Hanako begs, his eyes wet. “Ritsu, you’re smarter than me! Tell me what to do to help you! Please!”

The indigo aura that surrounded them starts to fracture, shrinking until only Aang’s slouched body is protected.

The line of iron boulders stretch and contract.

Something cracks.

Kageyama—

Ritsu whimpers, eyes wet with tears.

“Ritsu!” Hanako pleads.

The blood running from his nose trails down to his lips, soaking his gritted teeth. “I-I’m protecting Aang . . . F-find and w-wake up Aizawa-sensei. I-I’ll hold on . . . in the mean t-time . . .”

Ritsu keeps biting his lips, his eyes squeezing as if his only focus is shielding Aang with his aura.

The steel monster glares at him, the misshaped spikes and indentations in its head seeming to grow sharper with rage.

Ritsu trembles, tears falling on his face and blood leaking from his nose.

But he never closes his eyes.

A nauseous, dark feeling crawls out from the shadows, grasping Katsuki and biting the flesh out of him.

Worthlessness.

He’s worthless.

But another groan leaves Ritsu’s lips and Katsuki pushes the emotion down to the crevasses of his mind.

Even if he can’t do shit—

Katsuki whips his head, examining the battlefield with keen eyes.

Katsuki can accept it: he’s not a fucking hero.

But if he can find Sensei, if he can get Sensei to wake up and do his fucking job—

His eyes settle on the color green.

Deku trudges through the battlefield with Sensei on his shoulders, as Tsu and Yashiro support him.

Suddenly, he can’t hear anything else.

Katsuki’s running, shooting across the battlefield.

“Deku!” Katsuki yells, his heart leaping out his chest.

Deku’s neck snaps from the speed it turns around.

He looks at him like he’s the only thing in this damned battlefield, his too-green eyes widening at the sight of him.

But he’s not fucking paying attention.

A shadow covers him, death’s pale veil reaching for his soul.

“Deku!”

Deku jolts, but he’s too slow, can only gape as he turns around and sees the main villain dashing towards him with a pale hand.

Against all odds—

Deku falls to the right, pushed to the side.

The pale hand wraps around a head.

Katsuki can’t move.

Tsu gasps from the pressure of the grip, her eyes blown wide open.

Katsuki can’t fucking move—

Deku drags himself from his sprawl, his head whipping to meet Tsu’s solemn gaze.

She gives him a shaking, tearful smile. “Sorry, Midoriya-chan—“

Her words cut off.

The crown of her flowing, green hair dulls to a lifeless gray.

The grayness spreads, climbing from her scalp, draining the redness of her face, flattening the fat in her cheeks.

Suddenly, it stops, right at the tip of her nose.

Katsuki turns.

Sensei is halfway on his knees, panting.

His eyes glow bright red.

But the villain cackles, showing off stained teeth that peeks out from the gaps of the preserved hands clutching his face.

“Such a cool hero, Eraserhead, activating your quirk so fast. Though . . . ”

The color gray covers half of Tsu’s head.

“ . . . You’re a second too late.”

It happens a bit like that broken ceiling light.

Lifeless hair, dull temples, and eyes frozen in badly hidden fear—It all crumbles to dust, floating in the air, carried to somewhere none of them can reach.

For a moment, he can pretend it was like the snow blowing on a calm, winter night.

In such a night, as in any other night, the soul of the recently departed would trail after those pale snowflakes, spinning around the soft whiteness, and following them up to the sky.

But . . .

It isn’t winter.

It’s spring and it’s just like that fucking broken ceiling light.

With half of it missing, her head is a fountain of blood that gushes and spouts.

Red bits of flesh roll down the remains of her chin, cover her green hero outfit, and drip onto the ground.

With nothing for the villain to hold onto, her body falls and bounces on the ground.

Hot, viscous blood stains the concrete and pools underneath.

Katsuki is four years old, in the arms of his bleeding mother, staring at the scorched ceiling light he broke.

Katsuki is sixteen years old, standing in a raging battlefield, staring at the corpse of his classmate.

He looks up.

Yashiro and Deku are still staring at her body, their pale faces splashed with sticky red blood.

The villain’s face stretches with a smile that cracks the crust on his skin. “I think I can get a combo~”

“You bastard!” Kirishima yells, tears pooling in the corner of his eyes as he races towards the main villain with a hardened fist.

He swings, but the villain dodges with ease, his hand reaching for him too.

Suddenly, Sensei’s right next to him, kicking the villain across the field.

The villain rolls from the impact before shooting back up. “Fuck you!”

“ . . .Tsu?” Yashiro stares at the body, blood spilled all over her skin like a grotesque painting.

Katsuki turns his head.

He focuses on the main villain as he glares at them.

He wipes his bloody hand (Tsu’s blood) on his pants and scowls.

Something boils in Sensei’s stare as he lowers himself into a fighting stance.

But somehow, the villain isn’t intimidated, letting out a light huff.

“If you want to 1-v-1 me, I’ll indulge.” He jeers, “But I won’t leave those brats out of the game!”

He whirls his head. “Nomu! Grab a brat and make them wheeze!”

Suddenly, the air roars.

A dark shadow falls upon him.

Katsuki sees a glimpse of the muscled monster—the nomu.

It looks down at him lifelessly, with black fluids dripping down its limbs.

Something smacks his face—

He spins, twirling in agony and pain before his body skips across the ground.

Unconsciousness sings its riveting lullaby, but Katsuki holds on.

He can’t move a single bone in his body.

But still, he holds on.

He darts his eyes.

Deku is sprawled out opposite him.

His leg twists against the joint, as he lays belly down on the hard ground.

But Deku’s wide, frightened eyes aren’t looking at him.

Katsuki follows his gaze.

He sees Yashiro.

Oh.

The nomu holds her struggling body up, its bulbous hand wrapped around her pudgy neck.

Yashiro kicks her legs in the air.

Her fingers claw against the nomu’s grip.

She squeaks and shrieks.

Terror makes her amber pupils tremble in their scleras.

She’s in danger.

Katsuki tries to move.

He can’t.

He looks down at his own body, disarranged on a pile of rocks.

He can’t move.

Katsuki looks at Deku, struggling in the broken remains of his body.

He can’t help her.

Katsuki looks at Sensei, trading blows with the main villain.

Sensei weaves and ducks under the villain’s punches, eyes watering as he never blinks.

But every time he tries to get close to her—

“Your fight is with me!” The main villain kicks him away, euphoria filling his voice. “What happens when the heroes can’t do shit, Eraserhead?! What happens then?!”

Sensei can’t help her.

Katsuki looks to the right.

He sees the mountain ridge that Minamoto and Katara crashed into.

Rocks are still falling down from the impact.

They can’t help her.

Katsuki looks to the left.

Ritsu swallows up big, heavy breaths as the steel monster’s tail wrenches around him and Aang.

Ritsu’s indigo aura covers a half-conscious Aang, splintering and crackling.

They can’t help her.

Katsuki looks ahead.

The battlefield is a cluster of messy skirmishes and fights that spill into each other, smearing the lines between foe and ally.

He can’t distinguish his classmates from the chaos.

They can’t help her.

“Yashiro!”

Hanako dashes across the field with wild eyes, his cape skewed and uniform off-kilter.

“Yashiro! Yashiro!! ”

His form switches between transparent and opaque as a stream of hysteria underlines his every movement.

But the distance between him and them are miles upon miles, and Hanako can only stretch his hand towards her.

He’s out of energy.

He can’t help her.

Katsuki looks back at Yashiro.

She’s looking at him.

She’s looking at Katsuki.

Her eyes are big and wide, full of pleas that Katsuki can’t answer.

He can’t save her.

He can’t save anyone.

Katsuki couldn’t save Tsu.

Katsuki couldn’t save Sensei.

Katsuki couldn’t control his quirk.

Katsuki can’t do anything.

So, he lays on the ground, slowly watching the life drain out of Yashiro as the Nomu chokes her.

Her skin loses its color, tinting with blue.

Her legs stop kicking, only swaying through the force of the wind.

Her arms fall limp.

Her eyes become half-lidded, as if staying conscious is too much for her.

“Nomu!” The villain’s smile cracks his face apart. “Finish them off!”

The nomu—the monster—spreads its fingers across her neck and squeezes.

“YASHIRO!”

It squelches.

Steaming, thick slabs of flesh plop onto the dirt.

Hot blood and plasma sluices onto the battlefield like a broken dam.

The world falls silent.

Yashiro’s body drops with a thud.

She falls into the puddle of warm blood, with red and white and black and brown splashing up the length of her tattered P.E uniform.

The blood keeps dripping.

Dripping.

Dripping—

She stirs.

Yashiro pushes herself off the ground, coughing with tears in her eyes.

Blood drips into her tousled hair.

She swivels at the sensation.

Her eyes widen.

Her mouth quivers.

Her voice cracks.

“. . . Gohan?”

He’s standing behind her, wearing the regular white-collared shirt under the U.A uniform, with the jacket tied around his waist.

His black hair ruffles from the wind trailing after his arrival.

He stares down at Yashiro with glowing blue eyes.

His arm runs straight through the nomu’s chest.

As if it’s submerged in molasses, he’s slow in pulling back his arm, squishing through skeletal muscles and bloody organs.

His arm withdraws with a wet plop, leaving the nomu to lean and slump onto the ground, twitching and discolored.

“Nene.” He calls out.

Yashiro doesn’t answer.

Instead, she stares.

Stares at his regular U.A uniform without the stiff jacket or tie. Stares at the blood that seeps into the fabric, curdling the cotton white color of his shirt to a rotten red.

“Nene.” Gohan repeats. “Are you okay?”

But she doesn’t get to answer.

“Who the fuck are you?!” The villain—The main villain—yells.

Gohan rises his head slowly, blue eyes piercing the villain.

“Gohan!” Sensei turns to him, his face soaked in fear. “Get out of here!”

But Gohan only stares at the villain. “You’re a villain.”

It’s not a question.

Yet, a glint glows in the villain’s eyes. “Fuck yeah I am.”

A shadow falls upon him and Yashiro.

The nomu appears right behind him, still leaking with blood and chunks of bone—

“You’re pissing me off.”

Katsuki does not blink.

He does not blink.

Yet, Gohan blinks out of sight, floating right above the nomu with Yashiro in his arms.

The nomu looks up.

Gohan’s leg is a blur.

His foot jams into the crook of the Nomu’s neck.

Its neck splits, the sternothyroid muscles and the carotid arteries and the jugular veins fraying and snapping like cable wires torn under pressure.

The head of the nomu shoots through the air, slamming against the mountain ridge and leveling it with a destructive ease.

Blood is still gushing out of the remains of its neck, a water pipe with the faucet ripped off, as its body squirms and fidgets without reason.

“Ah!” Yashiro, clinging to Gohan, blinks away the bits of blood sticking to her eyelashes.

Sensei stares at him.

Deku stares at him.

Gohan stares at his shoes, frowning at the splotch of blood that appears on them.

“ . . . Gohan?” Hanako stands a mile away, just as affected by the violence.

Blue eyes shift to examine Hanako. “Oh, you look okay. Can you hold Nene for me?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer, reappearing to drop Yashiro into Hanako’s unsteady arms in the blink of an eye.

“My nomu! You fuckin’ brat!” The main villain screeches. “Kurogiri! Bring that giant steel snake—“

He stumbles on his words, his head whirling at the sound of a thud.

Somehow, Gohan had traveled halfway through the battlefield, already staring down the steel monster.

Ritsu stops his struggles with the monster’s iron grip to gawk at him.

The steel monster glares at Gohan, its red eyes marking him down as a target.

It opens its mouth.

Gohan disappears.

He reappears above air, slamming his leg down against the monster’s head.

Iron is clay under his muscles, and the giant boulder of a head cracks.

Steam escapes out of the fissures of the monster’s mouth, the result of swallowing its incoming blast.

It sways, letting out a whine, before falling, colliding against the ground.

Aang and Ritsu sputter out air and spit as they crawl out of the grip of the monster’s tail.

Gohan’s figure buzzes, moving so fast that the human eye can’t keep up.

A second later, the blur around his form disappears.

An unconscious, dust-covered Minamoto and Katara lie on his back.

All Aang can do is open and close his mouth.

Gohan lays them down on the ground carefully.

He turns his head, the full force of his cerulean gaze hitting Ritsu.

“Ritsu, I sensed Mob’s ki earlier but I can’t find it now. Do you know where he is?”

Ritsu blinks. “N . . . Nii-san . . . he . . . “

But Ritsu’s voice ends in a coughing fit, his hands gripping his chest as he heaves.

“You don’t have to talk.” Gohan’s frown deepens. “I’ll find him.”

Suddenly, his face twists in disgust. “That thing is coming back.”

Aang shakes out of his stupor, his brow furrowing as he calls his name. “Gohan!”

The wind rushes.

The nomu dashes across the field, muscles and tissue and nerves lacing over its exposed neck.

Ritsu and Aang only have time to jerk around, breathless.

Gohan doesn’t move.

He doesn’t even turn his head.

His arm stretches backwards, catching the nomu by the neck.

Blood squirts over his hand as the nomu’s neck convulses with steam, new growth of muscles vibrating under his fingers.

A little bit of surprise glimmers in Gohan’s blue eyes. “It can regenerate?”

The nomu’s limbs reach out, flinging harmless attacks against Gohan’s arm.

But Gohan’s focus is directly on Aang. “What did you want, Aang?”

Aang . . .

Katsuki can’t describe the look on Aang’s face.

It’s how his face crumples. The certain shadows that dance around in his eyes.

Katsuki’s pain-addled brain lacks the vocabulary to define it.

He would think it’s anguish, but he wouldn’t know why Aang would give a look like that to his savior.

The blankness in Gohan’s eyes never disappears. “It’s okay. I’ll finish this up and we can talk later.”

He whirls the nomu in his grip and flings him into the air.

The nomu soars across.

Gohan flies fast, keeping pace with the hulking creature.

He spins around, slamming his foot across the nomu’s face.

They sink.

The still-regenerating nomu’s head bounces against the ground, propelled by horizontal velocity.

The heel of Gohan’s foot sinks further.

It’s paint splashing against a hot tar road.

It squeals in the air, skin and muscle and tissue grinding against rocks and pebbles, leaving a slimy trail of red that stains the ground.

Dirt and pebbles shoot in the air as Gohan drags the nomu across the terrain with a single heel.

The squelching sound of gray matter reaches its peak.

Gohan stares down at the monster twitching under his feet. “I’ll give you one more chance since you’re still alive: attack me again and you’ll regret it.”

It happens fast.

About five miles away, the main villain scoops up decayed dust and launches it in Sensei’s eyes.

With Sensei distracted, the main villain screeches. “Kurogiri!”

He picks up speed, running towards Gohan.

A purple portal appears.

The main villain jumps through.

The portal appears right next to Gohan.

“You’re dead meat!” The villain’s voice wobbles as he cuts through space.

A pale, desiccated hand stretches out from the inky black void.

It grabs Gohan’s face.

Katsuki’s breath catches in his throat.

The silence in the battlefield seems to stretch for hours.

But time is still moving.

And Gohan is still alive.

“Huh?” The villain looks back at Sensei, eyes going wide at the sight of Sensei still rubbing his eyes. “Why isn’t it working? Why isn’t my quirk fucking working?!”

Gohan glowers under the villain’s grip, alive and coherent and pissed. “Are you the one responsible for hurting my friends?”

“What the shit’s going on?! You should be fucking dead—”

“If you’re responsible for hurting my friends,” Gohan’s glare burns, “I’ll make you pay for it.”

Plump, blood-stained fingers reach for the hand on his face.

They wrap around the bony wrist.

They tighten.

They crunch.

A gut-wrenching scream erupts from the villain’s lips.

But Gohan never lets go, even when the villain screeches, clawing at Gohan’s hand and howling, “Let me go! Let me fucking go! Nomu!”

The air screeches.

Irritated red eyes flare bright as Sensei screams, “Gohan!”

The nomu reappears behind him.

It’s a dripping, tangled rubble of muscles and organs aiming for Gohan.

But Gohan turns.

Darkness covers his face, with nothing distinguishable except his glowing, burning eyes. “I warned you—”

A bright red light shines from his hand.

Suddenly, it’s a blinding beam that burns Katsuki’s retinas.

Katsuki blinks.

The nomu is gone.

Smoke rises from the blackened smear on the ground where it was standing.

“. . . B-but Sensei said . . . “ The villain stares at the mark on the ground. “The nomu should have been just as strong as All-Might . . .”

“Oh?” The fury in Gohan’s eyes cool, returning the teal pupils to its blankness. “Then, your sensei is the one that ordered this attack?”

He loosens his grip on the villain, his guard laxing. “I don’t really care about you then. If you call off this invasion, tell me where your Sensei is, and promise not to hurt any of my friends again, I’ll let you go.”

Katsuki’s ears ring with static.

At the same time, the villain backs away from him, with one arm limp and the other hand bent in the wrong direction.

“. . . Let me go?” The villain groans, the noise becoming higher in pitch and intensity. “Let me go?! I’m here to fucking kill All-Might, not play around with a shitty-ass kid!”

Gohan stands unaffected as the villain rages, his face impassive.

Short, crazed bursts of laughter leave the villain’s mouth. “You think I give a fuck about a shitty pip-squeak hacker?! You can’t do shit to me! I’m the fucking villain in this game!”

The wind changes.

A purple portal appears behind Gohan, with glowing golden eyes and wispy hands stretching towards him.

The main villain cackles, “It’s over—”

Gohan whirls around, reaching into the void with light flaring from his fingers.

The light ruptures the mist villain from the inside.

A steaming, broken metal brace drops to the ground.

The mist villain screeches.

They drop to the ground, their form fuzzing and buzzing.

Gohan looks down at the mist villain with no emotion.

“K-kurogiri!” The main villain falls to his knees, some kind of emotion rolling in his voice. “What the fuck? I-I thought you were trying to be a hero?! Y-you’re not supposed to kill—”

It turns dark.

The red light in Gohan’s hand illuminates the battlefield, glowing like a promise. “If you won’t change, then fine.”

Katsuki will never forget it.

Not in a million years. Not even if he dies here. Not even if his body rots and there’s nothing left of him.

He will never forget the smile that stretches on Gohan’s face, shimmering from the blue glow in his eyes.

“I’ll just destroy you.”

“GOHAN!”

The smile on his face wipes away.

“You can’t finish him off!” Sensei screams across the battlefield, with veins stretching over his red eyes, yet edging away from putting Gohan in his line of sight. “You hear me, Gohan?! You can’t!”

The light from his hands dim as Gohan looks back at Sensei, his face made of stone. “Why? If he won’t stop killing people—”

“I don’t care if he killed a million people! I don’t give a shit!” Sensei’s voice is almost hoarse. “You. Can’t. Kill. Him! Stand down, now!”

Gohan—

He tsks.

It’s the kind of expression Katsuki would have when his mom tells him to clean his room.

The narrowing of eyes, the lips thinning from frustration, the angry huff that can’t help but escape—

It’s all over Gohan’s face.

He’s annoyed.

He’s annoyed because Sensei stopped him from murdering those villains.

Katsuki can’t comprehend the consequences of such an observation, not while he’s still immobilized on a pile of boulders.

All he can do is shove that piece of knowledge somewhere deep in the crevasses of his brain, destined to torment him in the dead of night.

Suddenly, the space around them whirls as a blue portal opens.

Cold air rushes out and the battlefield drops twenty degrees in temperature.

Two bodies fall out of the portal.

He recognizes the half-red, half white hair of Endeavor’s son in a heartbeat, as he crawls onto the ground, shivering with ice peeling off his body.

He looks at the other body struggling to rise.

It’s the villain wearing the All-Might hoodie.

Katsuki’s heart skips a beat.

A light coat of ice covers the villain, trailing across his blue-tinted skin.

But then, the villain sees Gohan standing in front of his fellow bastards.

“Shit!” The villain is off his feet in a second.

Gohan stares at him, emotionless. “Are you his Sensei?”

The villain doesn’t answer, his breaths coming out faster and faster as he looks around.

He glances at the other nomu standing by the side, in perfect condition, still waiting for instructions.

Yet, he shakes his head.

Instead, his gaze lands on Endeavor’s son.

He tackles him, wrestling him into a headlock.

He digs into his pocket, pulling out a syringe.

He grabs the son of Endeavor’s arm, aiming it right at Gohan.

Wait?

Is he . . .

He jabs the syringe right into his left arm, letting the caustic yellow fluid in the chamber drain into his vein.

Shit.

It flares.

A blaze of blue-hot flames roars, surging and eclipsing as it leaves a path of destruction.

“Todoroki!” Sensei yells, but the rumble of the embers drowns out his voice.

The fire mounts high enough to lick the ceiling of the USJ, relentless as it consumes everything it comes across.

Drugged-up villains too close to the barrage are devoured entirely, their blood-curdling screams and blackening bodies the only evidence of their existence left.

Gohan only frowns at the villain as the fiery blue flames hit him dead-on.

Just as fast, the villain rolls off Endeavor’s son, racing straight into the fire.

“Todoroki!” Deku screams, helpless to watch as Endeavor’s son convulses, his left arm still releasing those scorching flames. “Sensei . . . it’s Trigger!”

The spirals of flames climbing up the body of Endeavor’s son sputters out, as Sensei runs over to him with glowing red eyes.

Yet, the giant pyre of blue flames his quirk unleashed still chars the battlefield around them.

Katsuki narrows his eyes, trying to look through the dancing flames.

The flames sways, opening his line of sight.

Katsuki glances inside the inferno.

But he isn’t sure what he sees is real.

In the midst of the flames, the villain with the hoodie kneels down on the ground, his arms stretched outwards.

His body is protecting the other villains.

It doesn’t make sense to him.

He can’t conceptualize it.

He can’t accept it.

A villain shielding others at the risk of their own safety.

Gohan’s palm stretches out in front of him, a potential weapon that could disintegrate the villain in half a second.

But the villain with the hoodie doesn’t lash out, even as he trembles in place.

And somehow—

There’s life coalescing in Gohan’s eyes, lit up with a shock that softens his edges, making him resemble the child he’s supposed to be.

Gohan lowers his hand, letting his arms hang by his side.

Katsuki doesn’t get it.

There’s a disconnect somewhere, something he has to be missing because after everything Gohan did, why is that what stops the bloodshed?

Why?

Why?

Why—

Something changes.

Katsuki can’t define it.

It’s as if the stench of burning flesh and metal in the air sours.

The dirt and rocks kneading into his back presses harder.

The distant roar of flames and screams grows louder.

Everything intensifies.

No.

Everything—

      Shifts to fucking—                                                              

Left.

A blue portal opens in the air and everything in the battlefield stops.

The violence, the fighting, the screams—they all disappear.

The air burns with static.

An inky-black hand fuzzing at the seams grabs the edge of the portal.

The villain in the hoodie shakes from his kneel. “Fuck! Nomu-1432AZ8, get us out of here!”

The pale monster raises its hand.

A blue portal swallows the villains, whisking them away.

But the thing is still dragging itself out of the portal, bending space and time with it.

It pulls itself out.

A thing exploding with darkness.

On the other side of the battlefield, Hanako clutches a trembling Yashiro to his chest. “ . . . what the hell is that . . . ?”

“I . . . I . . .” Yashiro stumbles.

Her eyes widen as she glances to the left. “Ritsu! What’s going on?!”

Ritsu is a pale, trembling wreck, eyes bulging out of his head as he grabs Aang’s arm.

He doesn’t respond, even as he pants, short nails digging into the fabric of Aang’s clothes as cold sweat races down his face.

“Ritsu!” Aang darts his eyes between him and the thing, his panic making his hands tremble. “Ritsu! Tell me what’s wrong!”

“T-T-The thing!” Despair shrouds his voice like a cloak. “ . . . N-Nii-san!”

Suddenly, Tokoyami’s voice is a death knell that rings in Katsuki’s head, his words from before echoing.

“Kageyama . . . I don’t know what happened to him. He became . . . Something.”

Something.

The monster floating in the air lets out a groan that deliquesces his insides.

This is Kageyama.

In the midst of the burning blue flames, Gohan tilts his head, his voice rising with confusion. “. . . Mob?”

He blinks, his face becoming indifferent—bored. “He’s finally caught up.”

Suddenly, fresh air floods into the USJ as the doors slam open.

Deku glances up, with tears swelling in those big eyes. “A-All-Might!”

In all his glory, All-Might stands at the door of the USJ.

The thing—Kageyama—stares at him, white pupiless eyes glowing and ebbing.

Katsuki looks back at All-Might’s aged face.

He’s not smiling.

Chapter Text

The beginning starts like always.

Kageyama Shigeo wakes up.

The bright rays of the sun blur his vision.

Crisp leaves float down from the forest canopy.

He sits up, his hands digging into the soft dirt he’s sitting on.

It takes almost forever for his brain to restart.

Shigeo looks down.

He's wearing a bright yellow shirt and (now-stained) blue polka-dotted shorts.

He’s also shorter.

He squints at his younger body.

He’s about seven years old . . . maybe.

Is this a dream?

Anyways.

Shigeo stands up, looking around to find—

“Nii-san!”

Oh, it’s Ritsu.

A small, excited Ritsu runs across the forest, swinging a bucket back and forth.

Ritsu slows to a stop, shaking his bucket with a big smile on his face. “Nii-san, I found five beetles! Five! How many did you get?!”

Shigeo looks down at what he’s clutching in his hands.

“I found some leaves.” He answers.

Ritsu’s smile falls. “Leaves? You were supposed to find more beetles.”

Shigeo drops his handful of leaves into Ritsu’s bucket. “It's food. The beetles can eat it.”

Ritsu looks down at his bucket, his brow furrowing. “Do beetles eat leaves?”

Now that Ritsu mentioned it, “I don’t know.”

Ritsu hums, face squeezing, before he looks back up at him and smiles. “Okay! Let’s find more beetles!”

Ah.

Shigeo remembers this now.

This is the memory of when he and Ritsu explored the woods in the park when they were younger.

Shigeo stares at Ritsu, caught in the awe and happiness bubbling in his big eyes.

Ritsu meets Shigeo's gaze, his smile growing twice as big. "Nii-san! I wanna catch all the beetles in the whooole wide world with you!"

He grabs Shigeo’s hand, dragging him forward.

Shigeo looks at their interlaced hands.

Something in him settles.

He had forgotten about the simpler days.

When there was no unspoken feelings or bitter regrets—

It was just him and his younger brother.

Suddenly, the gentle wind swirls into a harsh breeze.

Gray clouds in the sky block out the sunlight.

In the darkness of the forest, Ritsu stops walking. "Huh?"

Something blocks their path.

A being of darkness, radiating with energy that crackles and groans.

“How long . . .” Its voice is an unpleasant sound, like nails scratching against a chalkboard. “ . . . How long will you cling to the past?”

“Nii-san,” Ritsu pulls at Shigeo’s hand, trembling.

Shigeo pulls Ritsu behind him, yelling at the thing. “Go away!”

But it doesn’t listen, even as the sky grows dark, the wind stops howling, and all Shigeo can see is its bright outline.

“Do you hate me?” It asks.

Shigeo doesn’t answer.

He refuses to answer.

“Nii-san.” Ritsu’s voice drops with fear, a sound tearing through his heart.

Shigeo straightens his shoulders.

He stares at the thing.

It stares back. “In the end, we are the same.”

“No,” Shigeo won’t accept it. He won’t accept the monster in front of him. “I’m not you.”

But the voice insists. “I am you.”

No.

“I am the boy that holds his brother’s hand in the middle of the forest.”

No!

“I am the monster that spills his brother’s blood in the middle of the street.”

No!

“I am you.”

He’s not it!

He’s not it!

He’s not it—

“—I’m not you!”

Shigeo jerks awake.

As the daze of exhaustion lifts, he looks around.

He’s alone.

It’s too quiet, with only the wind drifting through scattered rubble.

Shigeo pushes himself to stand, only to stumble as he sees everything.

Crumbling storefront. Damaged traffic signs. Torn down streetlights. Ripped patches of pavements. The wreckage of burnt-down cars.

Nothing but rubble surrounds him.

How did he end up here?

He starts with the beginning.

Waking up in the morning.

The tedious classes.

The nerve-wracking bus ride to U.A.

The USJ. The explosion.

Blood spilling on the ground.

The screams. The cries. The villains. The monsters.

Aizawa-sensei bleeding out in the concrete.

Ritsu.

“Hello?!” Shigeo tears across the street. “Ritsu?! Ritsu!”

He’s running through the too-quiet wreckage as the sense of wrongness builds.

The last time he saw Ritsu, he was falling off a building, caught in the grips of that hooded villain.

And now—

"Ritsu!" Shigeo calls out to an empty street.

His heart clammers against his chest as he looks around.

The full moon shines its mocking light.

The dry heat of the night leaves his skin sticky with sweat.

Suddenly—

A howl pierces the silence.

Shigeo whips his head.

A monster is in front of him.

If Shigeo doesn't squint, he can pretend it's just a dog. But there's twisting, rotting horns that's bursting out of its head. Something red-hot—like lava—drips off its body, burning patches of black fur.

It takes a step forward.

Shigeo takes a step back.

The tension snaps.

The monster rushes at him, bits of lava falling from his fangs.

"Shigeo!"

Something whirls in the air.

Shigeo's vision is clear of fangs and claws.

"What?" He swivels his head.

Slabs of a boulder bury the monster, leaving it to yelp and howl.

Shigeo can't stop staring at the monster; the gleam of its yellow eyes draws him in like quicksand.

Someone shakes his shoulders. "Shigeo!"

Shigeo takes stock of the person in front of him: Blonde hair. Dark eyes. An open slack jaw.

Yellow, crackling ESP energy.

Shigeo puts the image together. "Hanazawa?"

Hanazawa grips his shoulders, his eyes getting wider. "Shigeo! H-how are you—You didn't say—why?!"

Then suddenly—

Warmth surrounds him as Hanazawa pulls him in and wraps his arms around him. "Never mind. It's good to see you again."

Hanazawa is hugging him.

Shigeo should feel relieved, especially since Hanazawa is here.

But all he can see is the rubble around them.

"Hanazawa," Shigeo pulls him away to look at him, "W-what's going on? Everything looks . . ."

"Destroyed?" Hanazawa answers for him. "The invasion hit this part of the city hard, but I’m guessing by your shock, the Kansai region is more intact, huh?"

Shigeo takes a closer look at him, his confusion deepening.

Somehow, Hanazawa's hair had grown since he saw it last morning, now packed into a low ponytail. Unlike his usual colorful attire, he's wearing all-black, hands fiddling with his jacket.

But what throws Shigeo off is his eyes.

He didn't think he would ever see that much exhaustion in them.

"How about you?! How did you end up on this side of Japan? And why are you wearing that old thing?" Hanazawa gestures to his uniform.

"Huh?"

Hanazawa sighs, his gaze serious. "Last time we talked, you were about to face Overhaul with Midoriya and the others. Don't tell me you ditched that fight?"

Shigeo has no idea who Overhaul is or why he would fight him with Midoriya. He's not even sure when Hanazawa started calling him by his first name. In fact—

"We talked this morning, and you said I should enjoy the U.A. field trip." Shigeo corrects. "You were going on that mission with Red, remember?"

This time, Hanazawa looks confused. "What? No, that mission was—"

"Teru!!"

Hanazawa turns his head, the light in his eyes growing brighter. "Ah. They finally caught up."

The wind picks up as something lands between them.

Shigeo blinks dust out of his eyes, struggling to understand the sight before him.

It's another monster.

With four big legs, a wide brown body, and giant palm leaves decorating its long neck, the monster towers over him.

Shigeo eyes the creature as it flutters its leaves as wings.

A shadow stands on top of it.

They jump down from the monster, clad in dark blue clothes.

Brown hair whips in the air, with the long bangs tied back by a bright blue scarf.

Shigeo blinks.

The shadow is a girl. "Mob! Whaddya doin' here?!"

"You told me ya gonna get that Overhaul guy!" She stomps towards him, cornering him. "No way ya finished the match that fast!"

"Um," Shigeo sweats under her glare, "Do . . . I know you?"

Hanazawa pokes his head from behind the girl. "You didn't forget Sapphire, did you? She’s the only Pokémon trainer we know apart from Red, Shigeo."

"Um . . . "

"Shige!" He can't miss the green form of Dimple's body as he whizzes towards him. "You listened to me! You ran away from that death match!"

Dimple grabs his shoulders, his smile stretching with relief. "You knew it was a bad idea to face Overhaul and came here instead, right?"

Even confused, Shigeo knows he wouldn't do whatever Dimple is talking about. "No."

Hanazawa stares at him. "So you did beat Overhaul?"

Shigeo shakes his head. "No."

"Huh?!" Sapphire narrows her eyes at him, crossing her arms. "What' ya do then?"

Shigeo looks at all three of them. "I don't know . . . I never heard of Overhaul before."

They look back at him, staring with disbelief.

"Is he a bad guy or something?"

Hanazawa's jaw drops. "You have no idea what we're talking about, do you?"

"I don't."

Dimple flies towards him, sweat dripping down his face. "Shige, what is the last thing you remember?"

The last thing he remembered.

The taste of dust and dirt in the air.

Falling.

Stretching his hand.

A boy in a hoodie, falling backward as he held—

"Ritsu!" Shigeo's heart thuds against his chest.

He whips around. "Hanazawa, I have to find Ritsu! When we went on the field trip, there was an explosion, and a lot of villains started fighting us and—"

"Shigeo, calm down!" Hanazawa's gaze darkens. "That's the USJ Invasion. That . . . That was two months ago."

What?

"No . . . It's still going on." Shigeo refuses to believe it.

But Dimple shakes his head. "You must have bumped your head and gotten amnesia or something."

"No, you're wrong! It’s happening right now!"

"Didya fall in a portal?"

Sapphire's question echoes in the air, her eyes set in a frown.

His brow knits up. " . . . I did."

"And those aren't the clothes you were wearin' in tha morning.'' Sapphire points at his U.A P.E uniform.

"Then, you think . . ." Dimple's face pales.

Hanazawa's eyes widen. " . . . He's from the past?!"

What?

Something beeps.

The sound comes from Sapphire's pocket, loud and high-pitched.

Sapphire's face pales as she rips through her pockets.

"What is that?" Shigeo stares at the small machine thing.

It's a small rectangular metal box with a thin sheet of blue glass attached. Bright letters and numbers flash on top of the glass.

"That's a scouter," Hanazawa explains. "We use it to track almost everything: portals, mutant Pokémon, whatever. The person that made it wanted to cover their bases."

"But we don't talk about them 'cause they’re a backstabber." Sapphire grumbles as she messes with the scouter thing. "Teru, look. Five normal-strength nomus comin'."

Hanazawa lifts his head, his brow wrinkled as he frowns. "We need to get out of here."

"How about the bigger problem: He's not supposed to be here!" Dimple gestures at Shigeo. "If he's really from the past, we should send him back to his time. What if we get wiped out because the past changes or something?!"

"We'll get Mob home, but we gotta protect him first! Pilo!" Sapphire yells.

Shigeo's collar tightens as something lifts him.

He looks up.

The plant monster has his collar in its mouth, raising him into the air.

He drops, falling right on the plant monster's back.

A second later, Sapphire vaults onto the monster's neck. "Pilo, Fly!"

The plant monster trills, its large palm leaves pushing off the ground.

"Wait," Nausea swells up his throat as they rise into the air. "What's going on?"

"We're flyin' ya out of trouble!" Sapphire answers, wrapping her arms around the plant monster's neck.

Next to them, Hanazawa flies in the air, lifting himself with his ESP powers as Dimple follows. "How close are those nomus to us?"

Sapphire looks down at the scouter in her hand. "We're gonna hafta fight."

"Damn." Hanazawa curses. "We can do that, but . . ."

Hanazawa looks at him, his mouth thinning the longer he stares.

A screech cuts into the red sky.

Shigeo looks back.

It's a flock of them.

Nomus.

Their eyes bulge out of their sockets.

Their visible brains pulse.

Their emaciated tar-colored skin wrinkles around their muscles.

It’s the same monstrous nomus, with thready wings flapping on their back.

"They're here!" Dimple shouts.

Sharp talons aim for his head.

The plant monster veers right, jostling Shigeo.

"Hold on!" Sapphire steers. "Pilo, take it out of the sky with Fly!"

The plant monster trills, its speed doubling as it aims for the nomu.

It makes its impact, slamming its body against the nomu, sending it plunging with a screech.

But right as Shigeo exhales—

"Sapph, look out!" Hanazawa yells.

Another nomu swipes in the air, missing Sapphire by an inch

"Ugh!" Sapphire kicks it away, with Pilo flying off.

The nomu only startles before rearing its wings, ready to dive again.

"Not letting you have the chance!" Hanazawa launches a red telekinetic whip around the nomu, swinging it around.

He lets go, sending the nomu shooting right against the others.

But as five goes down, ten more nomus take its place, hissing towards them.

Shigeo raises his hands.

Unlike the lava monster from before, he sends a pulse of ESP energy that pushes them away.

They fall back but recover just as quick.

"They're stronger than all the other nomus you faced, Shigeo!" Hanazawa says as he whips them away. "You'll need to put more energy into your attacks!"

But even with everyone fighting, the number of nomus doesn't reduce.

"We can't keep this up!" Teru yells, uppercutting a nomu.

"Call for reinforcements on that thing!" Dimple turns transparent, letting the nomu fly through him.

Sapphire frowns as she puts the scouter, covering her ear with the metal part so the glass is over her eye. "We need backup!"

“Incoming Transmission from Yashiro Nene.” Sapphire’s scouter beeps, with Yashiro's voice filtering out a second later. "Sapphire, don't worry, we got you!"

Shigeo tosses nomus against each other with his aura, half-listening as Sapphire rages. "Weren't ya supposed to be helpin’ Katara?! Nobody's where they're supposed to be!"

"U-um, actually, um—Katara didn't—err—she told me to leave so she . . . um . . . she doesn't need me..." Yashiro stutters over the scouter.

"Fine!" Sapphire grumbles. "You said 'we', so where ya at?"

"Look up!"

Shigeo turns his head.

A shadow falls over him, shrinking as it descends.

Shigeo blinks.

Dark tires attached to a metal body fill his vision.

A nomu soars next to them, its jaw unhinging.

"Nene is here!"

The tires smash against its head, grinding the skin covering its skull as it accelerates.

The motorcycle bounces off, leaving the nomu to spin out of the sky.

"I got it!" Yashiro yells, dressed in dark clothes, as she sits on the motorcycle.

The flying motorcycle.

More screeching erupts behind him.

"Oh!" Yashiro whips back, "One more!"

Reaching for her back, she takes out a rod mixed with gold and blue colors from a sheath.

"Get away from my friends!" Yashiro shouts, swinging one of her bombs right at the nomu.

A second later, the bomb explodes, swallowing the nomu in a glittering dust cloud.

Sapphire grunts, steering her plant monster away from the blast and towards Yashiro.

But as she drifts them closer, she smiles. "Look at ya! I said it, didn't I? Ya got the hang of fightin'!"

"Yeah." Yashiro turns her head, scratching her cheek.

But as her gaze falls on him, she swivels around. "Mob?!"

"Yashiro . . . you're driving a flying motorcycle." Shigeo stares at her. "I didn't know you had a license."

"Um," Yashiro looks away, face flustered, "I mean it's not mine!"

"Then who—" The sky darkens.

Shigeo looks up.

He sees it.

A green hoodie.

A boy wearing a green hoodie.

A boy wearing a green hoodie, clinging to the neck of a nomu.

It struggles, only for the boy to jam a needle in its neck.

The nomu screams, with white foam bubbling out its jaw.

It stops moving.

It falls through the air, lifeless.

The boy pushes off the nomu, jumping up.

He lands in a crouch, right on top of the plant monster Sapphire is steering.

Shigeo turns his head.

The boy rises, standing to his full height.

Shigeo looks him in the eyes.

Even without the gas mask and the dismal aura of conviction pouring out of him—

Shigeo can never forget him.

He's the one who brought all those villains to the USJ to hurt them.

The boy turns his head. "I finished the rest of the nomus off. They're not getting back up."

He's the one that took Ritsu.

Shigeo sees red.

"You!"

His aura lashes out, launching the boy off.

"Shigeo!"

"Mob, what's going on?!"

"Shige!"

Shigeo doesn't listen.

He takes off, chasing the boy as he falls through the sky.

Desperate hands clench the boy's hoodie, dragging him close.

"What— " The boy coughs. "Kageyama—"

"Shut up!" His aura sends them plummeting, with the wind blasting around them. "Where's Ritsu?! Tell me!"

Something twists around his waist, leaving them hanging in the air.

Shigeo looks up to see Hanazawa's psychic whips wrapped around him. "Let me go."

"Hold up!" Hanazawa yells. "It's not what you think!"

Yashiro hovers above them. "Mob, what's going on?! I thought you knew he was on our side!"

Shigeo freezes.

"Why would I ever be on the same side as him?! He hurt our friends! He was the one that caused that invasion!" He yells.

Yashiro stills, her eyes widening. "What?! But . . ."

"It's a long story," Hanazawa sighs, securing the boy with another psychic whip. "But he's the only one that knows enough about the nomus to help stop them."

He doesn't want to let go of him—not by a long shot.

But Hanazawa can handle the boy if he tries anything.

Shigeo releases him, letting Hanazawa dangle him in the air with his whips.

"How could you forget that, Mob?" Yashiro stares at him, her jaw slack. "You thought it was a good idea when it first came up—"

"This Mob isn't our Mob." Sapphire flies her plant monster until she's close to Yashiro. "He's from the past!"

"What?!" Yashiro almost falls off her bike. "You can time-travel now?!"

"No, he probably fell through a portal that shot him to this specific time."

Shigeo turns his head.

The boy is talking.

He talks through the sewed-up hoodie covering his face, muffling his voice. "Guessing from the old U.A. P.E. uniform and the rage-filled psychic blast, you must have come from the USJ invasion."

The boy raises his head to reveal listless green eyes. "Welcome to the future."

"I don't want to talk to you," Shigeo says immediately.

Hanazawa flies down, swinging the boy around without a care. "We all have issues with him. He's helping with everything happening though."

"Fine, but it doesn’t make sense! I know I fell in that portal, and it took me to here, the future." Shigeo turns around, facing Hanazawa, Yashiro, Sapphire, and Dimple. "But this!"

The ruined city, the monsters roaming around, the nomus chasing after people—

"How did everything end up like this?" Shigeo can't tell that this is the same Japan he was in a few minutes ago.

Sapphire glowers, folding her arms.

Yashiro looks away, lips wobbling.

Hanazawa sighs, still holding onto the boy as Dimple floats next to him. "Flying in the air might attract more Nomus. Let's float down. We'll walk and talk."

With that, they move further away from the air battle, landing in a farther section of the city.

But everything here is completely leveled.

"Oh." Yashiro turns around, eyes wide as she takes in the barren landscape. "It-it wasn't like this earlier!"

"Hanazawa," Shigeo’s voice tightens, "How did this happen?"

Dimple floats next to him. "Where should we start: the Team Rocket-Triggered Apocalypse or the homicidal nomus?"

"Dimple," Hanazawa warns him with a steely glance.

Though it doesn't take long for his eyes to drift towards the sky. "Things were getting bad, but the sky—it was still blue at least."

"It's Team Rocket that messed things up!" Sapphire cuts in.

She brings out the capsules he always sees Red carrying. "They're tryin' to take over the world by bringin' all the Pokémon here!"

"But Pokémon can't go through the portals just like that." Her anger dissolves into something far more melancholy. "They gotta be in a Pokéball, or the portals mess them up. Team Rocket didn't care 'bout that. They kept throwin' Pokémon in there, and they kept goin' crazy."

Shigeo remembers the first monster he saw—the almost-dog with lava and horns on its head.

Its yellow eyes shone with a gleam.

A gleam of pain.

"They hurtin' those Pokémon, and nobody knows how to fix it!" Sapphire's hand grasps the ball.

Sapphire exhales, tucking the capsules back into her pouch. "Red's fightin' Giovanni, so I gotta stop all the messed-up Pokémon roamin'."

Hanazawa places a hand on her shoulder. "Dimple and I have been helping with all the mutant Pokémon and Team Rocket members." He says, turning to Shigeo. "The Team Rocket henchmen have been less of a problem. Most of them are with Giovanni. The ones that aren't are too busy fighting the nomus."

Shigeo's mind flashes back to the creature attacking him at the USJ. "The nomus are those monster things, right?"

Hanazawa huffs. "Yeah, these nomus are stronger than the ones you faced at the USJ. I don't know why there are so many though. Maybe that Shigaraki guy thought Team Rocket was stealing too much attention—"

"That's not it." The boy interrupts.

He raises his head. "Shigaraki didn't release those nomus. They came from Sensei."

Sapphire frowns, kicking a stray stone. "That's the big guy, huh?"

"I thought your boss was just the bankroller?" Dimple asks the boy.

"Sensei was strong. He might have been the strongest person I knew." The boy answers. "He didn’t see it as worth his energy to fight, especially with all the stockpile of nomus at his disposal."

Hanazawa gives the boy a smug smile. "I guess your boss finally met his match, then?"

"Yeah," The boy says. "But it wasn't Team Rocket . . . it was a monster."

"A monster?" Dimple's face squeezes. "It's that serious? I mean, your boss makes those bio-engineered freakshows, and you're fine with them."

"The nomus are grotesque, but their strength is measurable. Whatever that thing was that attacked us, it squished the nomus like they were ants." The boy replies. "It was like its strength had no bounds."

The boy bends down, scooping a handful of dirt. "Sensei didn't want to deal with Team Rocket. He didn't care for all the new pro-heroes, hero students, and vigilantes popping up either. 'Distractions', he called them. He wanted a weapon that could crush anything, no matter what world it came from. He wanted the ultimate nomu."

The boy's fist squeezes. "He kept opening portals, stealing away beings to find the strongest he could control."

"But Sensei brought back something he couldn't command." The boy relaxes his fist, letting the fine dust blow into the air. "It destroyed him."

Hanazawa's eyes widen. "It killed your boss?"

"Like he was nothing, Shigaraki got angry, tried to avenge him, but . . ." The boy shakes his head.

Sapphire looks at him, her brows furrowing. "If the big guy's gone, why the nomus attackin' everyone?"

The boy sighs. "Sensei had a contingency in place. If he and Shigaraki were to die, every single nomu would be set free. No one can control the nomus either, so I guess it's a middle finger from beyond the grave."

Yashiro's body jitters with energy as she says, "I came across Ghost while I was . . . um . . . separated! Separated from Katara! He told me all about it. It sounds really bad!"

Hanazawa's face grows serious. "Is it coming after us next?"

"I think it's coming after everyone." The boy stares at them with grim eyes. "It didn't seem human . . . just a monster hellbent on destruction."

Shigeo doesn't understand much of what's happening, but if everyone he knows is in danger . . .

"I should help—"

"No way!" Hanazawa cuts in immediately. "You need to get back to your time."