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Keeping several dozen children quiet in a single room, Shoto decided, had ended up being a much easier task that he had thought it would be. Sure, everyone was reasonably well behaved on any normal day, but this was not, by any stretch of the imagination, a normal day. He had expected chaos; questions from so many little boys and girls all asking what was going on or maybe just being generally anxious of something new that was happening. Maybe even just the ever present terror of being too small to think properly. At the very least, he was surprised it wasn’t louder in here. Most of the littles ones were only murmuring faintly and looking around. The basement took up the space of the entire ground floor without the walls that the upper levels had; a wide, open space with the freedom to explore. They must have been curious; he doubted any of them had ever even been down here before today. A couple of them were palming the walls as if the brick that made up this particular part of their home was any different from any other part, the newness somehow making it special. Were they looking for secret passages like in books? The stories about children finding entrances to magical worlds in wardrobes and tiny hidden doors were popular enough. Shoto watched, faintly amused, as several children were transfixed by a stain on the wall.He had known that the basement existed, at least, but even he had never been down here before. There just hadn’t been reason to; there was nothing down here. Well, nothing that was supposed to be down here, anyway. “Come on, baby, come on…” A strained mutter followed by a soft clang. Mei was on the cement floor, laying down beneath her latest invention, head hidden beneath metal and wires. Most of it was bolted or glued to the ground – he wasn’t really sure how Mei made sure it didn’t move and at this point was too afraid to ask – but there was an opening on the bottom just large enough for a young inventor to stick her head inside. “Please tell me you’re not having trouble.” Hanta badly stage whispered from above Mei’s machine. “I thought you were done with that thing!” Denki did just as horrible a job at the whispering thing from a bit further away. “I was! Mostly!” Mei was fiddling with what looked like wires from between the walls of what she called a ‘housing unit’. The sides of it were made from oven trays and some sort of metal twine Momo had made. “It’s probably just a calibration issue. You know, just some late stage errors for debugging. No need to be alarmed!” She did not sound particularly calm. Shoto had absolutely no idea what half of those words meant and knew better than to ask. Usually, Mei’s explanations just left more questions and worse confusion than what started it. What he did know, though, was that they were running out of time. Taking a deep breath, he took what felt like the twentieth headcount since they all got down here. He was nowhere near the tallest of their group, but the crisp clean bleach white of everyone’s near identical uniform – the skirts and trousers issue the only difference, really – made it easy to pick people out from the browns and grays of the basement. Subtract the one, but add the extra little one, their newest addition, who was sleeping soundly in Momo’s arms. Don’t lose the two behind Mezo, someone really has to talk to him about being more aware of his surroundings… That comes up as almost right, but subtract the other one, who was acting as the distraction upstairs right now… Everyone here and accounted for. Everyone that was left, that is. “Okay!” Mei shot to her feet, giving a small jump on the floor as she did so. She held a very small box covered in bumps in one hand. What had she called it? A ‘remote control’? “Okay… I just want to say…” She took a deep, shaky breath. “I don’t really know what’s about to happen. I don’t know if we’re about to go someplace without any breathable air or where dinosaurs are still a thing or, worse, end up someplace exactly the same as this place…” A creaking came from above them. The sound of the old wooden floor bending beneath a body. Shoto held up a hand, giving just enough power to his left to let off a small, glowing ember; it usually did the job of getting everyone’s attention. Mei instantly quieted down. A bare second later, so did everyone else. He looked up, focusing in the silence. From the corner of his vision, he noticed the little ones copying his motions. Then, there came the pounding of shoes hitting the floors above. A quick bang-bang-bang of limbs in motion; it rang loudly in the air. “Time to go.” Shoto barely breathed. “I love you all!” Mei hurriedly shrieked. She pressed at the largest of the round bumps on the small box; as soon as she did, the machine she managed to cobble together let out a loud pop. Gasps went around the room.Two prongs on the top of the machine – made out of wire hangers twisted together – arched with electricity the way Denki did during bad thunderstorms. They erupted, then, at a point in the middle of the air a few feet away. The floor beneath the sudden blast of lightning turned black, but the air where it hit kaleidoscoped in to a swirling mass of colors; blues and greens and golds twisted and churned in a perfect circle. It reminded Shoto, somehow, of a toilet.The pounding from above them moved to the stairs. The slamming and locking of a door followed it.“Move, move, move!” Katsuki roared as he stampeded down. “Sensei is right behind us, move!”For a few seconds, no one did. The youngest ones looked up at them with confusion.The locked door above them rattled.“Children?” Sensei said from behind the door, voice stern but carrying the air of his usual calm. “What’s going on down there?”“Okay, everyone…” Shoto gave his best smile to cherubic faces that turned to look at him. “I need you all to run through the glowing circle thing, all right? Just like we practiced in hide and seek. I promise it’s not danger –”“There’s no time! Move!” Katsuki shrieked, far more intense this time. Then, he ran through the swirling miasma.Several of the children cried out but not in alarm.“Hey, no fair!” “I want to play!” “Wait for me, Kacchan!”And, just like that, they all started to rush through.Shoto took a moment to shake his head in stunned bemusement. Of course it would be that easy; everyone always wanted to follow Katsuki in all the games, the ones disguised as training, that they played. Still, he waited until the last of the little ones went through; youngest to oldest seemed to be the order. Momo, carrying the not-quite-infant in her arms, rushed through along with them.“Children?” Sensei’s voice came through louder and more severe. “Open this door!”The call, for a moment, startled him. Then, Shoto glanced to the rest of his family; the last of them that remained in so many ways. Fear echoed back his own uncertainty; fear of whatever was on the other side of Mei’s last-ditch escape attempt for them all, but they all knew that it would be worse if they stayed behind. They all knew what waited for them here, now. Shoto took a deep breath as he watched each of them go through. He lingered, listening to the increasing rattling above; the calls from Sensei were getting more urgent now. Still, Mei’s warning about ‘non-breatheable-air’ lingered at the back of his mind when he finally took the plunge. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, just in case.A bright light waited for him. It took a moment to realize that it was the sun.And he could breathe.Behind him, there came the sound of wood and metal crashing down. --------------- The security alarm at U.A. went off, on average, roughly three times a day. Typically, it was someone from the media getting too close to the wall. Once in a while, an animal managed to trip something, or some poor sap playing citizen journalist or autograph hunter tried to sneak on to the campus grounds. Though, usually it was the media; once in a while, at a rare blue moon, it was someone a bit more nefarious.And then, after everything that happened with the League of Villains on school grounds – and off school grounds – and the subsequent increase in security that immediately followed, well, three times a day was eventually considered a good day.The equipment at the school was next to none, barring some military facilities. Aizawa had, after all, looked at the reports himself; he had made some of the implemented suggestions. Quirks of all sorts were taken in to account with the assumption that villains would have access to every single type and hybrid combination that was not only known, but also theoretically possible. Hell, there has been measures taken for quirks identical to the faculty; with copy-cat quirks and shapeshifters, their own skills could just as easily be turned against them. Most importantly, however, they accounted for what was already known fact.Portal-creating quirks were incredibly uncommon, but they already knew of one villain in the League that had it. In fact, Kurogiri had used it against students in recent memory. Naturally, it was the top thing that they had gone to the extra effort to both scan for and prevent.Supposedly, the equipment that they had brought in would prevent any sort of future portals coming from outside the school grounds. Anything trying to get in would simply not succeed; it would fizzle and die thanks to sophisticated scrambling transmissions that, frankly, Aizawa never bothered to really understand. If it worked, it worked, and that was all that he cared about.Which was why, when the alarm went off and the system told him – and every other faculty member and the nearest six police stations – that an unauthorized portal was opening on school grounds, Aizawa lost his ability to think coherently for roughly two seconds.It was after class hours. The students were in the dorms, assuming none of them had gone to any after-class activities. The text alert told him exactly where the portal was and that it was in the courtyard closest to the dorms. Was the League attacking the school? Again? How did they get through their supposedly uncrackable system?! There was going to be some words with some people after this.After those two seconds were up, Aizawa moved. He had been grading papers; nothing that he couldn’t put off to later. The door to 1-A was thrown open as he ran down the halls.As soon as Aizawa arrived on scene – an empty indented clearing with scattered chairs and a fountain by the dorms, a place made to be peaceful for the student body – he immediately saw the problem. Still, something wasn’t quite right; the swirling portal that hovered mid-air was… Off.“Those are not the League’s colors.” Vlad King’s frown was audible as he stopped nearby.He was right; instead of the swirling oval of purple and blacks, it was a perfect circle of a rainbow. It had so many bright neons going on that it was almost nauseating. Both the shape and color were not of Kurogiri’s norm.That, and the fact that nothing was coming out of it, gave him pause.For the few seconds where nothing happened, Aizawa prepared himself for the combat he was certain was about to take place. Some kind of villains were about to come through; perhaps more Nomu, perhaps a whole new group not affiliated with the League. He was prepared for this. Everyone on staff were, to protect their students.What he was not prepared for was the rush of children that came through. He was certainly not prepared for the first one; the blonde that was an exact duplicate of Bakugo Katsuki, or the dozens and dozens that followed. Toddlers and school-age children and preteens, all wearing an identical asylum-bleach white uniform. There was something on their necks as well, some smudge that he couldn’t quite see in their frantic movements; he could figure that part out later, but for right now…The Bakugo look-alike saw him. He careened to a halt when he did, stopping short, eyes wide and bearing an expression very much unlike he had ever seen on Bakugo before; a deep, unsettling fear.“Shit, shit, shit…” Bakugo’s doppleganger started to back away, but he didn’t run. The blonde looked back to the portal and then back to the two teachers; he looked unsure and thoroughly petrified, as if he were an animal trapped between two cages and wasn’t sure which type of death he preferred.Some of the smallest children had stopped, expressions varying between confused and terrified. A toddler, a little girl, ran directly for him and clung to his leg. Aizawa stood there awkwardly.If it had not been for the boy that looked like the picture image of one of his top students, he would have attributed this to some kind of escape. Children fleeing imprisonment and going to the most secure place with known heroes in the country; that would have made sense. There was precedent for that, news events both recent and old. How they wound up with a portal as their means was something for later investigation, but the most important thing would be to get all these kids together and in safe hands.From the swirling portal, more children were coming through. The taller they got, the more familiar they became; many of them bore a face identical to his students.What the hell was this?! Himiko Toga couldn’t be all of these people and Twice couldn’t make this many copies. Not as far as he knew. Even if he could, it didn’t account for these discrepancies; for these odd uniforms and these other unfamiliar bodies running about. Why make children too young to be able to talk? Or five-six-seven year olds?It didn’t make sense as a trap; not with this chaos, not with these elements in play. Aizawa shared a glance with a similarly stupefied Vlad; these kids were running away from something.A version of Todoroki was the last to come through – missing the burn mark over his eye, which begged all sorts of other kinds of questions – when all hell broke loose.Long stretches of cloth swung through the portal from the other side, streaks of white that forced the fleeing teenagers in the back of the path to scream in alarm and jump out of the way. The fabric and how it moved was horribly familiar and it took a stunned few seconds to realize why before Aizawa realized what it was. The color was all wrong, but he knew his own capture tape when he saw it.That was a version of his own weapon. It was trying to grab the children.The notion that these were escapees cemented itself further. The who they were or where they were from would have to come later, but right now was right now and the toddler clinging to his leg was starting to cry. He looked down at the mass of black, messy pigtails, possibly made frazzled by the running, and pried tiny fingers from the cloth of his pants. He didn’t get a chance to tell her to stay where she was.A copy of Uraraka – longer hair, this one, but that was still her round face – chucked a floating little boy in their direction; Vlad caught the impossibly quiet kid that couldn’t have been older than seven or eight, but it was in that moment, with the boy mid-air, that Aizawa saw what was on his neck. A string of large, black numbers sat on that little boys’ neck. He had seen a similar smudge on the rest of the white-clad children and the very notion of tattooing children with such a thing had far too many reminders of a few too many past wars to be taken lightly.Well, this made things significantly more disturbing. All white uniforms? Numbers on their bodies? It would have sounded like a ham-fisted over-the-top allegory in a movie script, but here it was in front of him.The little girl grabbed his leg again. This time, he didn’t try to take her off; instead, he decided to stay where he was and lashed out with his own capture tape, grabbing at bodies to pull them away from the portal.“Oh, crap!” That was a duplicate of Kaminari who had stumbled his way closer, a version who looked absolutely terrified; and with his hair cut in that familiar style, it was easy to see the numbers on his own flesh. The look on his face wasn’t wholly foreign but it was aimed at him, this pale-faced encompassing fear. “We made a mistake, we made a mistake!”That was naturally when his own students decided to get involved.It would have to be later, with security footage available and the ability to pause to catch details, before Aizawa would know exactly how everything happened.The capture tape from the other side was whipping at random, but the body attached to it never came out from the other side. There was the shadow of a body, but Aizawa doubted that his counterpart from another universe could see anything at all through the mess of colors. If that was who he was starting to suspect it was; everything else was just too strange to not keep that notion possible. But why wasn’t he coming through the portal to chase down the escapees?Most of the dozens of children looked confused, but not alarmed. It was the older ones, the copies of his students and some around their age, that did the running and grabbing to pull little ones away.Not all of them could be grabbed; there were too many children and not enough of them seemed to understand what was happening. Aizawa caught sight of a very small boy with a mess of red hair, pacifier in his mouth, who turned to run back for the portal. He tried to grab the boy with his tape – Vlad brought up a block of blood in front of the toddler – but the boy only ran around it and ran right back from where he came.It had been a mistake to focus on the confused toddler; it had only distracted him. White tape grabbed at a copy of Jiro with mascara smeared from tears; Iida rushed in with his Recipro Burst to pull her away. The proper Jiro started to rumble the ground with her ear jacks; all it did was trip up a preteen girl with long pigtails that had been trying to chase down the confused toddler that had run back, sending her slipping through the portal herself. A crackling of green and Midoriya had shot past but missed the girl by milliseconds. The rumbling stopped after that, but the damage had already been done.Aizawa used his own tape to pull in children that Midnight, fresh on the scene, put to sleep. Vlad set up shields of blood to block the tape from the other end to varying effect; some knew to stay where they were and others simply did not. Tape from the other side grabbed a boy around the age of ten; both of the Todorokis came from different directions at the same time, one with fire and the other, the one without a scar, with a sword made of ice. Both stopped in surprise at the same junction and aborted their motions to stare at the other. The boy that they had both been trying to save was pulled away in a blanket of white tape. A scream pulled Aizawa’s attention to the side; a version of Asui had seen what had happened but stumbled along with a leg covered in a cast. The Asui that he taught every day was at her side and held her to keep her from moving.“Close the stupid thing!” Bakugo’s double shrieked.“I’m trying!” A copy of Hatsume Mei was pressing at buttons and turning dials on a device that looked like it was cobbled together with hot glue and wishes. “I can’t, I put a safety feature that won’t close it if people are too close!”“Why the fuck did you do that?!” The other Bakugo wailed.It was a mad dash of bodies going in different directions. Two versions of Sero were using their own tape to pull people, but they each somehow kept on grabbing the same targets. His own tape succeeded slightly better, but there were so many children. That scar-less version of Todoroki still had that sword of ice and cut a preteen boy free from white tape; both of them were pulled back and out of the way of another attempt to grab them by Dark Shadow’s claws. There was a flash of green and Midoriya was there again, helping Tokoyami to fend off the tentacle-like lashings that came for them.It was in that brief moment that Aizawa realized that there was no duplicate of Tokoyami; there was no second Dark Shadow moving about. He noticed, then, the lack of a second Iida or Midoriya. He didn’t have time to check who else wasn’t there or to figure out what that meant.Two children quite a distance apart from each other – a toddler and an older girl – ended up wrapped in white. He lashed out to grab one and pulled the older one free thanks to her own help, but the younger boy, wailing in confusion, freed himself from the wrong color and was pulled back through the portal.The ground rumbled. The physical manifestation of the word for ‘shield’ appeared, blocking his view.Class 1-B had arrived and, somehow, that made things worse. It became, as far as Aizawa could see, a sheer clusterfuck. And, really, he couldn’t see much at all.People were screaming in panic, now, and there were too many bodies to see what was happening where. Kendo’s fists blocked things from his view and he couldn’t tell if the electricity arching was from Kaminari, his duplicate, or something else entirely. Vines were now in the air and acting as another grabbing agent, but sooner or later someone was going to get hurt from a physical tug-of-war with so things coming from so many directions. There came a loud banging and Aizawa stared in shock as a duplicate of Yaoyorozu – hair down and carrying a crying baby – held a gun in one hand and shot at the portal. Her arm glimmered where she had created it from.Aizawa picked up the girl still clutching his leg and rushed around the word shield.Another young boy was caught in the white tape; he had been pulled in close enough to be within touching distance of the portal. Both versions of Ojiro ran in at the same time; their own grabbed at the screaming body and pulled but ended up wrapped in more tape himself. His lookalike grabbed at the white fabric to free them – and might have succeeded, security footage would later tell Aizawa that he had absolutely had a good chance to – before one of the bullets from the other Yaoyorozu’s gun hit him in the arm. There came more than one scream before all three of them fell through. The gun immediately stopped firing.Several people immediately screamed Ojiro’s name in sheer horror, both his first and last. He couldn’t tell if it was his own students or their doubles that called out. Perhaps a bit of both.Panic struck at his heart; losing these unknown lookalikes and mystery children was one thing – he didn’t know who or what they were, not quite yet – but that was one of his own students that had just been caught in the crossfire. He couldn’t get his tape far enough from here, not carrying the little girl as he was; he rushed, trying to move closer to reach through the portal himself with his tape, to do what that other person had been doing this entire time.For some reason, the tape from the other end stopped coming through. The portal still sat there; from where he was, moving closer the way that he was, Aizawa could see the shadow of a man on the other end turn away.He didn’t get there in time. The air was still drenched in screaming and crying, and security footage would later tell him that it had been a total of just under five seconds between the time Ojiro fell through and when it all finally collapsed.A flash of light pierced the air and right in to the swirling miasma. Aoyama’s laser barely missed him and the child that he was carrying. For a brief moment, Aizawa thought it was his own student, but, no, he was quite a distance away holding on to a very small child himself. He had to turn to see the lookalike – not wearing a belt – who immediately collapsed and vomited on the ground.Beyond the portal, something exploded. Pieces of metal, glass and what looked like an oven tray came showering in from the other side. The mess of colors immediately began to shrink in to a dot before the rainbow portal vanished entirely.Then, for a moment, nothing happened.“Open it back up.” Bakugo’s double heaved the words. “Mei, open up the gate thing!”“I can’t.” Hatsume’s counterpart whimpered.“Open it back up!” The blonde’s hands sparked. “We lost too many, we need to get them back!”“I can’t! I have no way to open it from this end!” Hatsume stood there, pale faced, staring at a device in her hands.Aizawa still had a quiet little girl in his arms; he assumed she was in shock. He started to make his way towards the pair but didn’t get the chance to speak.A soft click came from the side; he turned his head to stare at the wrong end of a gun. Yaoyorozu’s counterpart glared at him, trembling faintly, a sniffling and red-faced baby in her other arm. “Put her down and back away.”They were frightened children. Aizawa told himself that as he slowly put down the toddler. The little girl didn’t move until Bakugo’s other self rushed forward to pick her up, recoiling back as soon as he did, as if Aizawa would attack them.Then, the lot of children clad in white started to back away from them. They didn’t share words over who was moving or when, they only moved as if one mind and formed a semi-circle. Their backs were to each other, faces still set in the determined sort of fear an animal in a cage held; trapped, but still fighting.“We made a mistake…” Kaminari’s double whimpered aloud. His hands sparked and clenched.“Please stop saying that, Denki.” That was the other Sero, tone subdued and shocked. “It’s not helping.”“Hey, you!” Bakugo’s lookalike glared at him. “What is this place?!”That was an odd way to phrase the question; not ‘where are we’ or ‘who are you’? Aizawa frowned and wondered if it was deliberate. He held up his hands, trying to calm the many, many… How many kids were there? At least thirty of them but probably more. “This is U.A. It’s a school.”Somehow, that didn’t seem to do the job. They didn’t look any calmer; if anything, Bakugo’s counterpart only looked more suspicious.Around them, the collected student body of both 1-A and 1-B were quietly scattered. He could hear confused whispers and at least two different students declare that this was ‘creepy’. He couldn’t fault them for that.Then, a startled scream came from halfway around the semicircle; Jiro’s doppleganger, face still visibly smeared, had her hands over her mouth. She was staring at the quiet and startled faces of some students, but he couldn’t tell exactly who she was staring at.“What the fuck…?” Bakugo’s counterpart had, however, noticed something as he turned. “Deku?!”In the startled mass of students, Midoriya stood there with the same uncertainty as everyone else. He sputtered for a moment before settling on an unsure wave. The Bakugo a short distance from his side stared at his lookalike with narrowed eyes and identical suspicion.Whatever it was about Midoriya – and now Aizawa could confirm that there was no duplicate of him here – did something to the line of lookalikes. The gun in the other Yaoyorozu’s hand fell to the ground with a soft thud; a version of Ashido collapsed to her knees, followed by a duplicate of Koda who then started to cry. Shoulder slumped and the weight of exhaustion finally took its’ toll on them as they seemingly mutually decided that things were now safe.There was still the echo of crying children, but at least they could start to get a grasp on what, exactly, had just happened.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

The police finally got there less than ten minutes after the entire thing began. Considering how fast everything had happened, Aizawa wasn’t particularly surprised that they had missed it all even with the quick arrival. What he was a bit annoyed by, however, was how little they brought with them; guns, sure, but almost no body armor and no barricades. None of them even had a bottle of mace. At this point, the media outside was being held back only by U.A.’s own equipment and security personnel. He wondered, in the more exhausted part in the back of his mind, what the protocol for mystery portals opening up in places where mystery portals weren’t supposed to exist even was. It wasn’t as if they could bring a tank to this kind of thing. He did know, though, that Pro Heroes were usually called in. When none outside of those that were already on campus showed up, he wondered why. But only briefly; this was U.A., after all, and All Might was technically already on scene. Technically. What was left of Yagi Toshinori stood in the observing side of an interrogation room with all the wide-eyed shock of a fish freshly pulled from the ocean. So were Kayama, Kan, Principal Nezu – standing on a stepladder made just for this sort of occasion – several police officers and Detective Tsukauchi. “A portal from another universe appeared in the dorm court yard?” That was now the third time Toshinori had asked the same question. After so many decades of dealing with the worst villains the world had put together, Aizawa was surprised that this was what finally broke the logic part of All Might’s brain. “From another universe?” “There’s probably precedent somewhere.” Detective Tsukauchi looked similarly confounded but at least wasn’t stuck in a ‘does not compute’ rut. “Nothing comes to mind immediately, but I’m sure we’ll find something.” “If this gets to the media, what comparisons there are will come up sooner rather than later.” Aizawa said with a sigh. Then, he gave the detective a peering look. “Will this get to the media?” “Not yet.” Tsukauchi frowned. “It might cause a panic if a news station lets out that an alternate dimension attempted to abduct children.” He shook his head slightly, as if the words that just came out of his mouth were a little too far-fetched. “Eventually, though, I assume we’ll be forced to put out some kind of press release.” It was at that moment that the door to the observation side of the room opened up. After the chaos of the portal and the haggard mess of crying children dressed in white, there had been the task of putting together how many there were and figuring out who would be the best ones to ask questions to. The most logical route would be to ask the eldest of the bunch, but there was something inheritably disturbing about the lookalikes of his own students. There was something off about them that he couldn’t quite place Aizawa did not look forward to this; a growing dread that something still wasn’t right was swirling in his gut and he had never ignored it through the long years of both his hero and teaching careers. In the end, out of the fifty-two children that had remained from that other universe – fifty-two children, all under the age of sixteen and each sporting large, black numbers on their necks, five deeply disturbing digits long – , six were plucked up from the oldest bunch for the first round of questioning. In another room, another officer was asking a different set of kids the same pre-written questions for later comparison. Tsukauchi had admitted that even his lie detecting quirk could miss things, should the person telling the lie believed that it was true. Old school methods of interrogation still came in handy. Aizawa frowned as the chosen six walked in to the room on the other side of the two-way glass and settled in on a set of couches. The faces were somehow both familiar and foreign; Yaoyorozu’s hair wasn’t in her usual style, Todoroki was missing the large scar on his face and Asui stumbled along with a cast covering most of her right leg. Bakugo and Hatsume were more or less exactly the same as their other selves, but Jiro trembled slightly as she walked and her hair style was more even than their own Jiro’s asymmetrical bob; it showed off the face still smeared black. The other Jiro was the first to sit down on the edge of one couch. The injured Asui sat next to her and immediately wrapped her in a one-armed hug; Jiro leaned in to it. “Incredible.” Toshinori whispered; he sounded awed. “Please wait here for the detective, all right?” Tsukauchi’s assistant – another detective with a very visible cat quirk whose name Aizawa had never properly picked up on – gave the children a smile as he ushered them in. He closed the door behind them; it locked shut with a loud click. “What do they think we’re gonna do, run away?” Bakugo’s counterpart glared at the door before flopping on standalone chair. One leg draped over the arm rest. “They don’t know who we are or where we came from.” Todoroki’s scar-less duplicate sighed. The other three took seats of their own. Silence fell for a few seconds. “Who did we lose?” Bakugo’s tone was soft but still had a bite to it. “I tried to do a headcount after…” Todoroki gave a small shrug. “I think right now we’re at six.” “Who did we lose?” The question was repeated with more venom. A moment of silence passed before Todoroki answered the question. “Kei. Erika. Yamato. Gau. Haru. And Mashirao.” Every name was spoken with a harsh emphasis; it reminded Aizawa of those live television ceremonies marking major events with multiple casualties, when names of the fallen are read and speeches made by loved ones.“Two Mashiraos…” Yaoyorozu’s word were followed by a soft squeak that could have been either a small sob or a hiccup. “The other one got caught, too.”“It wasn’t your fault.” Asui let out a kero as she said it. “You were trying to shoot Sensei.”“I still shot him.” The response was quiet and miserable.A few seconds passed in depressed silence. Aizawa glanced towards Toshinori and – yep, he was closing his eyes in sympathy. He had already fallen for these lookalike children. With an internal sigh, he looked back to the window. “You think this place is safe?” Yaoyorozu spoke up again in a tone that was barely above a whisper. “I saw walls here, too.” Hatsume had a deeply thoughtful look on her face but didn’t look as off-kilter as the others; the fear was less visible, at any rate. “They said this place was a school, right? Why would a school need walls like that?” “There were too many people.” Todoroki’s eyes were roaming around the room, peering in to corners. He was looking for something. “And I don’t think I need to mention the fact that certain people are still here in this… Dimension?” “Universe, dimension, reality, the books used so many words but they all pretty much meant the same thing.” Hatsume gave a shrug. “Difference without a distinction. I don’t think any of the authors ever agreed on the terminology.” “Deku’s alive.” Bakugo said with an uncharacteristically low volume. “I saw his face. Hell, saw my own face too, but he… Grew up.” “He was allowed to grow up.” Todoroki was looking at the ceiling now. Was he looking for the microphones they hid up there? “That doesn’t mean this place isn’t still a farm of some kind.” “Allowed to grow up?” That came from Vlad. “Well, that’s creepy.”“A farm…” Something about the way Nezu said it sounded both suspicious and horrified, as if he already knew exactly what these children were talking about.Aizawa shared a glance with Tsukauchi; something about the words weren’t clicking together yet. “That police officer looked like a cat.” Yaoyorozu’s voice was drenched in shock. “Excuse me, I’m right here.” Asui still held Jiro but turned her head to stare at the raven-haired girl. “Not like you. I mean…” Yaoyorozu stumbled. The expression that crossed Asui’s face was a mix of amused and insulted. “She means it’s like Fumikage’s.” Jiro’s voice shook. “That it reminds her of how he looked.” The use of past tense sent off a warning bell in Aizawa’s brain. “This is a great conversation and all…” Hatsume then looked directly at the glass. “But you all know that that’s a two-way mirror and people are watching us, right?” “What?” The rest of the room asked in near perfect unison. Detective Tsukauchi covered his face with one hand. “Why didn’t you say anything?!” Bakugo glared fury at the pink-haired girl. “I thought you knew!” Hatsume laughed. “You read books! You know things!” “I’ve never even seen two-way glass, how did…?” Todoroki’s face had begun to flush in embarrassment. Tsukauchi let out a deep breath. Then, he walked out of their side of the interrogation room and, after the three step journey, gave a short knock on the door to the other side. It was a warning knock; the door opened slowly and gently. It was done on purpose with the intent to not cause any alarm. “Hi,” Tsukauchi poked his head in to the room, slowly opening the door. “I’m Detective Tsukauchi. I’m sorry for leaving you here for so long.” He faked a very convincing smile that almost didn’t look forced. “Yuh-huh.” Hatsume was the only one who grinned and gave him a nod. “And I’m sure you didn’t hear anything any of us just said.” Tsukauchi closed the door behind him and took a deep breath. “I’m sure you understand that we have a long list of questions for you kids.” “We just ran for our lives from another universe, so, yeah.” Hatsume looked manically excited; it was an expression all too familiar to most of U.A.’s staff. “Mei, please… Don’t…” Todoroki said with audible exasperation. “First of all, I would like to know your names.” The detective offered a warm smile, looking from teenager to teenager. There was probably some reason for the intentional eye contact, something about gaining trust that Aizawa didn’t have the energy to remember right now. After a round of this, his gaze settled back on where it started, on Bakugo’s lookalike. “Though I can guess you’re Bakugo Katsuki, right?” “Bakugo…?” Bakugo’s mirror image blinked in clear confusion. Then, realization flashed across his face. “Wait, people have family names here?” “A family name implies a family.” The excitement that came with Todoroki’s words was deeply disturbing; the perking up of expressions all around the room only compounded it. “People have families here?” “Technically, we’re a family.” Asui looked to Todoroki. “Technically, yes, but we’re not blood related.” Todoroki paused. “…That we’re aware of.” “The versions of us in this universe grew up with families…” Yaoyorozu mused with wonder. “Always dreamed about what that must be like.” A small smile crossed Todoroki’s face. “Must be nice.” Several people on the observer side of the room shifted uncomfortably. On the other end, Tsukauchi appeared to be at a loss; the response was obviously not the one he had expected. “You only have a given name each?” “They told us we were orphans.” Came, softly, from Jiro. “It’s always just been us. I’ve always just been Kyoka.” A short round of introductions went around the room; the same first names as U.A.’s own students and nothing else. Momo, Shoto, Tsuyu – please, call me Tsu-chan, and why wasn’t Aizawa even almost surprised by that –, Katsuki, Mei and Kyoka. Then, there came an awkward pause. Six teenagers looked to a frowning detective. After a few seconds, Tsukauchi took a deep breath and plowed on. “What were you running away from, exactly?” He didn’t take a seat; the only spot left was in the middle of one of the couches. “They were going to kill us.” Mei said completely matter-of-fact with a wide, delighted grin. She even gave a clap of her hands, tilted to the right of her beaming face. “Mei…!” Katsuki snorted, but a grin was starting to spread along his features. “What? Is it not accurate?” Mei looked to Katsuki with all the innocence in the world. Her arms spread wide to accentuate her words. “Yeah, but when you say it like that, it sounds…” Katsuki stopped, expression shifting to thoughtful. “Facetious?” Tsuyu offered, deadpan. “I was gonna say ‘dumb as fuck’, but that works too.” Katsuki let out a small laugh. It sounded slightly hysterical. “Why are there numbers on your necks?” Tsukauchi ignored the banter and went right to the point. The pause that followed was entirely of the confused sort. “Wait, you don’t have the numbers?” Katsuki sat up straighter in his chair, dropping his leg from the armrest to the floor. The detective turned his head and pulled down his collar just enough to show off his bare neck. All six pairs of eyes looked stunned and bewildered. “The fuck?!” Katsuki eventually broke the silence. Both Momo and Tsuyu’s jaws were opening and closing as if they were trying to find words; Kyoka simply openly gaped. Mei’s expression took on the look that usually carried the dangerous internal thoughts of, ‘there is an exciting discovery here’ that was a loud warning sign to people nearby. Typically, according to Power Loader, this specific expression usually proceeded several long days of rapid invention and numerous explosions. Shoto was the only one that managed to say anything at all. “We don’t know. We’ve just all… Always had them. But we think it’s part of their cataloguing system.” “’Their’?” Toshinori whispered aloud. “Cataloguing system?” Tsukauchi frowned, letting go of his shirt collar. “We’re livestock!” Mei said with a new clap of her hands. Livestock? These kids had also mentioned a farm… One of Nezu’s paws moved to cover his mouth. “Mei!” This time, Katsuki sounded angry. Then, a loud sob erupted from Kyoka. She covered her eyes with her hands and trembled. The arm around her tightened as Tsuyu glared at Mei. “For fuck’s sake, Mei!” Katsuki shot off of his chair and rushed to the side of the couch. From there, he set a hand on Kyoka’s back; she leaned in to it, but still covered her face. Tsuyu gave him a sad smile. Well, this was not a sight that Aizawa could ever expect from his own students; Bakugo was not known to be anything close to compassionate or tender. Not even like this, with the rude language attached. It was somehow mystifying. “We didn’t know until a few months ago.” Shoto looked to the detective. “Fumikage was the last one we lost.” “The last one?” This seemed to be an issue with the Detective at present; he repeated the words with a stuck frown. “Can you tell me what happened?” Four of the six pairs of eyes – Kyoka continued to cover her own – looked to Katsuki. He took a deep breath. Then, he began to speak with words slow and echoed with fury. -------------------- 
They had known it was coming for a while. The date on the calendar of when Fumikage was set to leave had been circled six weeks in advance. Supposedly, it had given everyone plenty of time to come to terms with the fact that yet another member of their family had been adopted and was going away to a brand-new life of happiness and adventure. There were the usual tears and crying and hugging, but it was a happy thing.

They had all talked about it, of course. They were orphans in an orphanage, after all, and they freely and frequently discussed fantasies of what they would do outside the secure walls of their happy home. The younger ones often played ‘house’ based on information from the story books; a mom, a dad and a baby or three or twelve – depending who was doing the playing and the quirks involved.

Both Fumikage and his quirk – a talking, physical shadow that he had named, quite aptly, Dark Shadow when it had first appeared – had been happy to go. They all had been; it was exciting. The whole lot of them got together after that final dinner to hug and cry and wish him well as they always did each and every time.

In all the commotion, Fumikage had somehow left his favorite book behind. It was an old black-covered poetry book written hundreds and hundreds of years ago. It was full of dark poems about heartbeat clocks and talking ravens that didn’t really appeal to the rest of them; Sensei had gifted it to him on his tenth birthday. He had loved that book and was often found reading it over and over again. The others had asked him on more than one occasion if he ever got bored of it; both Fumikage and Dark Shadow would smile and say that they never did.

Which was why, when Kyoka found it on a table back in the main bedroom, she had to get it back to him. Katsuki just happened to be walking along the hallway when she rushed out, almost bumping in to him in her haste.

“He left his stupid book!” She gasped.

“…How?!” Katsuki openly gaped at the book she waved around in one hand. “How the hell did he leave that behind?!”

“I don’t think he left yet.” Shoto has seemingly appeared out of nowhere, standing in the nearby stairwell. “The lights are still on at the gate. Maybe you can catch them.”

It was all the push that they needed.

They had both rushed along the house that they all lived in; it was a very, very large place. It had to be, to house so many dozens of children in it. The surrounding fields where they all played freely every day – six hours of education, but the rest of the day was for whatever they liked and a good chunk of it was spent just playing with each other – was a large, expansive field surrounded by forest. It could take an hour, if they ran, to get from the house in the center of it all to the very end, where the walls were. The gate to the rest of the world was always closed shut – except when someone was adopted out.

They weren’t supposed to go near the gate. It was the most important rule. Shota-Sensei had always warned them that there were dangerous things outside; that’s what the gates and walls were for. The stories in the books about wild animals weren’t just stories, he said.

Still, they had to get the book back. This was important; it was probably the only thing Fumikage would have in his new life to remember what his old home was like; the only thing to remind him of the rest of them. After all, no one ever called or wrote letters after they left, so who’s to say if Fumikage would be able to. They may never see him again.

The gate was disappointingly plain. For the first time, Katsuki could walk inside the forbidden tunnel and it was just… Stone. Cement, probably. Large square bricks of a plain gray in the floor and in the round curved ceiling that seemingly went on forever. There was, however, a truck. It was the first vehicle either of them had ever seen. The back of it only had a drape covering it.

“There’s nobody here.” Katsuki huffed. “There a side room or something?”

“Do you think the truck’s for him to drive off in?” Kyoka mused aloud. “Maybe he’ll find it if I leave the book inside…”

A strange, partially gurgled gasp came from Kyoka’s throat. The book fell to the floor with a clatter that felt too loud. Katsuki turned to find the purple-haired girl with her hands over her mouth and backing away from the truck.

“What…?” He could feel the danger that was in the air – a loud warning chime inside his very heart – and Katsuki needed to know why. He took five steps to look inside the back of the truck.

Fumikage’s corpse was laying there. His beak lay slightly agape, eyes wide and unmoving but it felt as if he was staring right at them. There was blood pooling from a wound in his chest. He was not breathing or moving in any way.

“What… The fuck…” Katsuki could barely breathe.

“Hey! Is someone out there?” A loud, booming voice came from deeper in the tunnel.

For a moment, Katsuki didn’t know what to do. That same alarm bell warning him of danger had intensified, almost drowning out the whole world. It was the beating of his own heart now, a loud thumping bass in the air.

He grabbed Kyoka and dove under the truck.

There came a loud thud and a large, foot-like appendage of something that was certainly not human set itself next to the vehicle.

“I didn’t hear anything.” It was a second voice, but it had a faint echo to it that sounded wrong.

“I could’ve sworn I heard something move…” The first voice, but not booming quite so loud this time.

There were more thuds; more movement, of more feet and legs – if they could be called that – of mottled grays and greens and long, long claws that clattered on the cold stone ground. Katsuki dared to peek out slightly from under the truck – he could see Kyoka doing the same from the corner of his vision – and for a moment, he couldn’t understand what he was looking at.

They were tall, gangly things with wriggling fingers and claws that were too long to really be real. Their eyes were set vertical and jolted in a sickening fashion as they looked around. One of them opened its’ mouth – teeth were in directions that teeth should not be in, there were too many rows, too many pointed edges – and a slithering, slimy tongue came out of it. Thick, long claws from one of those – things – reached to pluck out Fumikage’s bleeding body from the back of the truck.

“Oh, this one looks nice.” One of the monsters giggled. “This one has a bird head. Human poultry! Must tastes divine! Human meat is the best, but birds are a close second.”

“You eat birds?” The other sounded amused.

“It’s good stuff.” A laugh.

All words stopped inside of Katsuki’s brain. He couldn’t comprehend this. He didn’t understand what was happening. What was happening?!

There came another thud; one of the monsters set what looked like a giant jar full of sloshing green liquid on the ground. There came a tearing noise; then, Fumikage’s naked body was set gently inside of the tank.

It reminded Katsuki, obscenely, of the pickle jars in the kitchen.

“Oh, can’t I at least have a bite first?” One of the monsters whined.

“Do you really want to risk it? This is high quality meat. We’d get in a ton of trouble for even taking a toenail. All of the meat from this farm is intended for the rich guys on top!”

“Fine.” A pout. “Fine. I see how it is.”

A farm? Meat?

What the actual fuck?!

Next to him, Kyoka was trembling and very quietly whimpering. He prayed that the monsters up there couldn’t hear her.

“Lately, we’ve been shipping out mid-quality ones, even from this farm.” There was what sounded like the rustling of papers, but this was a new voice. There were three of them up there now?! This one sounded more important, too. Something about the tone of his voice. “An average teenager. Mid-range score. But it looks like we’ll be able to harvest a large number of high quality ones soon.”

Harvest?!

“Shota? The preparations for the higher quality ones will be ready, I presume?”

“Of course.”

Next to him, Kyoka physically jolted at the sound of their Sensei’s voice.

It was all he could think to do to pull himself from under the truck, grab Kyoka, and run the hell out of there.

Somehow, they weren’t seen. Miraculously, they weren’t caught and killed right then and there.

Still, it was essentially the end of life as they knew it.
-------------------- No one said a word throughout the entire story.The silence that rang out after it was only interrupted by Kyoka’s occasional sob. Aizawa knew the signs of post-traumatic stress when he saw it.“We tried to escape after that.” Katsuki’s voice came quiet; he looked at the floor. “We made a shit ton of plans. There’s huge walls all around, so we got to the top of it and there’s just… A trench around it that went all the way to hell for all I knew. Couldn’t use tape or a bridge of ice to get across it.” A deep breath. “Which was where Mei came in.”“I knew something was wrong with the way things were for a while.” Mei wasn’t smiling anymore; she wasn’t making eye contact, either. “I think I must’ve been… Four when I figured it out. So I started to research and read to try and find a new way out. Started building the portal making thing six years ago in secret. Shoto helped.”Shoto gave a small, helpless shrug. “I figured out things were off when I was little, too.”“Sensei got a hell of a lot more suspicious after they killed Fumi, though. That was three months ago.” Katsuki’s frown turned angry. “He figured out that some of us knew what was up. Was stalking us for a while. Yesterday, we had a good old-fashioned confrontation about it. He knew we knew.”“He broke my leg!” Tsuyu didn’t quite yell, but her words were tinged with deep annoyance. “I tried to tackle him and… I don’t know, I wasn’t thinking clearly, but it did absolutely nothing and he broke my leg.” She sounded more affronted than anything.“…Yeah. Yeah, that happened too.” Katsuki said it as if it were an afterthought.Aizawa looked to Tsukauchi’s face. He peered at the detective, trying to find anything, anything, that would tell him that these children were lying. That this was all a big story that they were telling.Children, human beings, raised as livestock for consumption?!There was nothing on the detective’s face other than shock and horror.“We kinda ended up in a rush.” Mei let out a sigh. “Sensei said that Katsuki was going to be shipped out tonight. It was now or, well, after he died, and we didn’t want to take that route.”“If we escape, we all escape.” Momo’s voice was soft; it sounded like a mantra, something they said as a prayer on repeat. She was trembling and clutching the skirt of her white uniform.“Do you know… What those things that you saw were?” Tsukauchi spoke barely above a whisper.“Not a damn clue.” Katsuki shrugged. “We’ve been calling them demons and monsters because, really, what the fuck else are we gonna call ‘em.”“Ranchers. Cowboys.”“Mei, this is really not the time.” Shoto said past ground teeth.“Can you build another one of those portal machines?” Tsukauchi looked to the pink-haired girl.“What?” Mei looked up; she was visibly surprised. “The last one took me six years but… I can try, I guess?” She frowned. “You want to go back to rescue that other kid from this universe.”“What’s the point?” Katsuki let out a bitter laugh. “They’re already dead.”“Katsuki!” Both Tsuyu and Shoto said at the same time, voices in identical warning tones.“I was gonna get shipped out tonight!” Katsuki glared at them both. “Those demon assholes are gonna want something and the only one in our fucking ‘quality’ range is Mashirao! And they got two of him! So unless Mei can build one of those things in an hour or less, I think they’re pretty much fucked!”An oppressive sort of silence fell. No one said or did anything.Tsukauchi gulped audibly. “Thank you. Thank you for all of this information. I’m going to talk to my superiors and we’ll see what we can do.” He started to back away to the door. “Please, wait here.”The detective all but rushed to that door; he closed it behind him, but there was no audible sound of a lock moving. The move to their side of the observation room was done in two quick strides. When he opened the door, he looked more pale and ashen than he had a moment ago.“They’re not lying.” It was all he said.It was all that he needed to say.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

It had been a calm spring afternoon when Shoto found Mei by the drawing pond.

At first, Shoto only looked on as the pink-haired little girl searched through the piles of rocks and stones that littered the area around the water. She picked one up, inspected it with a little magnifying glass, then nodded to herself and put it in a red plastic bucket. It took a few seconds to remember that some of the older kids had recently started hunting for rocks to paint a few weeks ago and half of the house had since followed suit, littering windowsills and bedside tables with stones sporting the visages of animals, fantasy scenes, and people. But this wasn’t right; he knew Mei wasn’t the kind to do what everyone else did, and besides…

“Mei? All the good painting rocks are by the climbing mountain.” Shoto spoke up quietly; he didn’t want to startle her. “There’s only little pebbles here.”

Mei physically jumped in place; she almost dropped the rock that she was holding. Then, the six-year-old girl let out a nervous laugh. “Oh, I’m not looking for painting rocks! It’s okay, you don’t have to stick around!”

“You’re not?” Now, Shoto was a little curious. She pretty much just told him to go away, but he took a few steps closer instead. “What are you looking for? The mountain still has better stuff.”

“It’s not even a mountain, it’s just a pile of broken gneiss the big kids put in a pile.” Mei huffed. She then took another grand inspection of the current rock she was holding; with a frown, she tossed it over her shoulder and in to the pond. It fell with a loud ‘plop’. “I’m just looking for stuff for a thing I’m making…”

“What kind of thing?” Shoto knew that Mei didn’t get along with most of the other kids. They all lived together but she still always ventured off alone; he didn’t think it was fair. “Can I help?”

“I don’t…” Mei frowned. Then, she bit her lip before turning away. “I’m building something. You won’t understand.”

She was building something? Shoto always knew she was smart; she smartest in the whole house, probably. She always got perfect scores on the tests.

He wondered, then, if maybe she had figured the whole world out. He hushed his voice to a whisper. “Are you building something to escape?”

Mei whirled to look back at him so fast that her hair was briefly airborne. “W-what? How did…” Her eyes began to water. “You know things are weird, too?!”

“Yeah.” Shoto frowned. “I don’t know why, but things don’t make sense like Sensei says it does.”

Mei took a look around the forest around them; the sounds of the other kids were distance, laughter and some indecipherable calls. Then, she lowered her own voice to a whisper. “I think Sensei might be evil.”

Slowly, Shoto gave a nod. He had started to suspect as much. “Is that why you didn’t talk to Sensei, too?”

Mei’s gold-crossed eyes were still watering. “You know how I’m smart, right?” She wasn’t bragging; it was essentially fact. When he gave another nod, she let out a sniffle. “In all the books, when a hero starts getting suspicious… Like the detective stories and police stuff… The bad guys try to kill them ‘cause they’re getting too close to the truth. If Sensei is evil and he knows I’m trying to find out where we really are, he might…” A pause. “I don’t know, but it’s never good in the books. And I can’t fight like the detectives.”

It made absolute perfect sense to Shoto. After a few seconds of thinking over Mei’s words, an idea formed. “But I’m not smart.”

Mei blinked once. “Huh? I mean… You’re not like me, but you’re not dumb.”

“No, I mean…” Shoto shook his head. “If I ask questions, maybe Sensei won’t do anything bad to me. And then I can tell you what he says.”

“But…” Mei was biting her lip again. “But what if he does do something bad?”

A smile crossed Shoto’s face; he was proud of himself. “Then you’ll have an answer.”

For a few seconds, Mei only stared at him. Then, the watering in her eyes increased; for the first time that he could remember, his pink-haired practical-sister began to cry. Before he could think of what to do about it, she jumped forward and wrapped him in a hug. Her sobs were muffled in to his white uniform shirt.

“It’s okay…” Shoto patted at her back; he didn’t know what else to do. It felt awkward. “It’s okay, Mei…”

“But now I’m not alone…!” Mei wailed, still muffled. “I can talk to you now!”

Shoto shifted in place. This still felt awkward.

When Mei’s crying died down – it felt like too long, but it really had only been a few minutes – she let go and jumped back, wiping her face on her sleeves. “T-thank you. But… But now…!” She let out a final sniffle before posing dramatically, one hand on her hip and the other pointing at him. “But now you’re my assistant, and I need help with these rocks!”

“Okay.” Shoto still felt a little weird but tried to smile. “What kind of rocks?”

“I’m looking for large micah deposits in the stones.” Mei was rifling through the mud and dirt closer to the water. “I think I can extract them for use in mechanical properties.”

Shoto had absolutely no idea what any of that meant.

Mei gave him an expectant look. Then, she let out a deep, exasperated sigh. “I’m looking for the stones that are… Sparkly?”

“Oh.” Shoto nodded slowly. “You’re looking for the shiny rocks.”

“…Yes.” Mei let out another huff. “Yes. That. Exactly. You can look in my watertight travelling receptacle for examples.”

“… The bucket?” Shoto couldn’t help but let out a small giggle; Mei tended to talk a little funny sometimes. It was one of the reasons the other kids didn’t like her, but he had always secretly thought that it was what made her special.

“Yes, the bucket!” Mei let out a dramatic groan. “Now are you gonna help me or what?”
 -----------------  They had never left the grounds of the so-called school. The police had come to them and had brought them in to a room in a building that had still been surrounded by those great big walls. Shoto thought it was, at the very least, incredibly suspicious. He had read books from the house’s library; everyone did, there were seemingly endless tales hidden on those shelves. There had been a time when he had spent a solid two months going through all of the ones involving a detective in the nineteenth century; if they were anything close to accurate – and he had to admit that a good number of the books were probably sheer imagination – then didn’t the police usually take people to a precinct to ask questions? Or at least someplace more secure than this? A glance to the rest of his group told them the same thoughts were in their heads; in Mei’s, at least. Five pairs of eyes looked back as they were walked out of the building by a tall, gangly man draped in black and sporting bright yellow hair that seemed to defy gravity. At least the grin on his face didn’t look forced; he beamed at them in an almost comical fashion with large reflective sunglasses perched on his nose. “All right, kids!” Goodness, was this man just loud. It looked like he was trying not to shout; maybe he had some sort of voice quirk? “The rest of the kids from your, uh, universe are waiting in Gym Gamma. Everybody’s okay, so don’t worry!” The more these people told them not to worry, the worse their concern got. The day was bright and sunny; they had left from their own world at seemingly the same time. A little late in the afternoon, but not quite close to sunset. The walls around the place stretched as tall and as imposing as the ones back home. There were the distant sounds of birds singing in the air, the faint caw, caw – half of his siblings has long since called those ones ‘murderbirds’ thanks to their large, black wings and tendency to be terrifying, not to mention that incident that happened with Mezo – but other than that, there was only… Whispering? He had to turn around to find out where the clamor of voices were coming from. Shoto ended up looking in to a version of own face. They were quite a distance away, too far to make out the words being said, but the other versions of themselves were standing there. A man with long, messy-looking black hair had their back to his own group, but it looked like he was talking to the teenagers from this world; they looked disturbed and bewildered. “Huh.” Mei murmered; they had all stopped along with him to stare. “I don’t see a me.” She was right; he recognized faces amongst the large crowd – some twenty strong, he thought, but didn’t bother with a proper head count – but there was no version of Mei. “They look… Strong.” Katsuki sounded like he was frowning. “All muscly and shit.” “Ah-ha!” Mei did that clap of her hands that she did whenever she had a sudden epiphany. “Military academy!” There was a beat of silence; Shoto – and everyone else – turned to look at her with complete confusion. “Wha?” That was their tall gangly escort. “This is a military academy, right?” Mei was grinning up at the blonde. “The uniforms have little epaulets with badges and everyone has a little tie, not to mention how extremely buff everybody is. Everyone works out! Ergo, military academy!” “Uh… Not exactly?” The tall man still looked taken aback. Shoto didn’t blame him; Mei tended to have this effect on people. “I mean, this is a hero training school for the most part, but there’s other, like, divisions of studies…” “Hero training?” Shoto asked with a blink. “Oh, less military, more like a police academy. Local protection?” “Uhm… Sure. I guess? You’re right, it’s mostly local work.” That didn’t sound like a full confirmation, though. At the least, it didn’t explain much. “Kind of. Most Pro Heroes work solo, but there’s… Teams and internships and… Stuff like that.” Pro Heroes? The closest thing Shoto could think of was some kind of elite set of police officers. Most importantly, though, it implied a large world out there that needed police officers. A place with cities and towns and people, human civilization that existed in vast quantities. But why would they need special training to become a ‘pro’? Was a war happening here? Were they fighting demons of their own? Was it similar to their own world, only that they had been more successful at the start at fighting off the monsters? Were the walls to keep the demons out? “Military academy!” Mei said again, bouncing a little in place as she did so; she was not letting this go, it seemed. “Excuse me…” Momo offered a nervous smile to their guide. “Is it possible that we can talk to… Them?” She pointed to the crowd of their lookalikes. “Uhm… Lemme check.” Then, the man turned a dial on the odd, large collar that he wore, cupped his hands over his mouth, and aimed at the crowd so far away. “Hey! The kids wanna talk to your kids!” Tsuyu let out a startled scream; Kyoka physically jumped back a few paces. Katsuki looked like he had been physically wounded for a moment as he winced and stepped back. On his end, Shoto openly gaped alongside Momo at the sheer volume that came out of that man’s mouth. “Noise quirk.” Mei gasped with delight. “Awesome.” At least the group on the receiving end of the query also jumped and seemed startled. The man that they had been talking to only slumped as if this was a regular occurrence and he was simply tired of it before turning to stare in their direction. Shoto could feel his eyes widen. “…That’s Sensei.” Katsuki’s voice had dropped to a hush. “But it… Really, really isn’t.” “He looks like he’s been awake for a month.” Tsuyu croaked. “And hasn’t done laundry in as long. Does he… Groom himself?” “Oh, yeah, trust me, this look is intentional.” The tall blonde grinned. Shoto had a feeling that there was going to be a tall learning curve ahead of them for everything going on in this world. At least the Sensei-lookalike gave them a nod.They would get to talk to themselves. ------------------  It had been almost a week later that Shoto had gained the strength to confront Sensei. There had been no list to practice from nor a speech to memorize; Mei had tried to help, but without knowing where they were, they couldn’t form any follow-up questions.
It all hinged on that one starting point. He’d have to wing it.

Winging things, luckily, was exactly what six-year-olds do on a regular basis.

It had been surprisingly and a little disturbingly easy to just go with the flow of the other kids. The regular laughing and playing got him through the days as he waited for the right moment; Sensei didn’t look at him any differently at all until he was finally able to catch Sensei alone one afternoon.

Or, well, almost alone. He had begun to notice that Sensei always, always, had another kid with him. A baby, usually; a little one in his arms at all times. But there he was, sitting by one of the big windows, rocking chair moving him and one of their newest additions. Usually, he would be outside while they played, but the little girl had some kind of cough today.

“Sensei?” Shoto was already tempted to back out.

“Hmm?” Shota-Sensei looked up with his usual gentle smile – their names had always been so similar in sound that Shoto had liked to imagine that there was some kind of secret bond between them. “Shoto? Why aren’t you outside with the others?”

“Sensei…” The steps had to be forced; he had to push himself to get closer to the man that raised them all and was better than the fathers in almost all of the story books. “Sensei, can… Can I ask a secret question?”

Shota-Sensei raised a brow, but his smile didn’t falter. “A secret question? Of course. Is another child bothering you?” A pause. “Is it Katsuki?”

Well, Katsuki was something of a known bully, but Shoto shook his head. Then, he found he couldn’t quite get the words out.

Shota-Sensei let out what sounded like a sad sigh. “Whatever it is, you can of course talk to me. I’m very good at keeping secrets.”

Shoto took a deep breath. Then, a gulp. “Sensei… This house that we live in… This isn’t an orphanage, is it?”

There was a very long pause. The rocking of the chair stopped. Sensei’s expression shifted; the gentle smile turned downwards ever so slightly and his eyes suddenly looked very, very wrong. It wasn’t the red hue he took on when he cancelled someone’s quirk when they were misbehaving, not quite; he didn’t even look angry, not really, it was just… Wrong.

Shoto was very tempted to run.

“Now, why do you say that?” Shota-Sensei’s tone was still quiet and normal, at least.

“I…” Shoto gulped again; this part, he and Mei actually had rehearsed. She had catalogued the reasons and put them on a list; they had written things down and read them over and over again. “There aren’t any other grown-ups. And whenever somebody leaves, they never come back or write letters or anything. And then when they go, there’s… New kids. Like they’re…” A pause. “Replaced. And… And we never see the outside world or leave or see anybody come in…”

“Ah.” Sensei held up a hand to stop his rambling. “I always knew you were astute, but this is a surprise.”

Things were starting to feel wrong now. That urge to run was growing.

“But it’s okay.” Sensei gave him a more natural smile. “I think you, especially, are allowed to know. You’re right, Shoto, this place is not an orphanage. It’s a farm.”

The confusion was so strong that the desire to run was very briefly squashed. “A farm?”

“Mm-hmm.” The smile grew on Sensei’s face, ever so slightly; he had never grinned or let his teeth show, not as long as Shoto could remember. Sensei looked down at the baby in his arms before looking back. “A farm.”

He knew that tone; it was the sound Sensei made when he was trying to help them figure out questions that they had from lessons or books without directly giving them the answer. He was trying to help him figure it out for himself. He didn’t know why Sensei didn’t just tell him; Shoto frowned at the two layers of confusion. “A farm… But there’s no animals.”

“Mm-hmm.” Sensei was looking at him. Waiting. Expecting.

“So…” A gulp. “Are we the animals?”

“That’s right.” Sensei’s smile had grown by just a little bit more; he was pleased. “And when someone is shipped out, they become food. But don’t worry, it’s painless, no one even feels it when they die.”

The shock at this information was so strong that Shoto didn’t know how to react. It almost sounded like a joke; people don’t get eaten. don’t be silly, monsters do that in story books. They hide under beds to snatch little kids away or come out of closets or live in the snowy mountains to hunt people.

He didn’t think Sensei was joking, though. This didn’t sound like a joke or a lie. Still, Shoto found that he couldn’t cry; he wasn’t even sure why he didn’t, he simply didn’t know what to do.

“Shoto.” Sensei’s tone had come a little firmly this time, but it wasn’t any more than he usually did to get someone’s attention. “Do you understand why you can’t tell the other children about this?”

The question left no room for argument; Shoto truly and deeply thought about it. The answers that came to his mind immediately made him sad. “…Because no one will believe me. And even if they did, then… Then they won’t be happy here anymore. They’ll always be afraid.”

“Mmhmm.” Sensei had relaxed; the chair was rocking again. “And don’t we have such happy lives here?”

They did; he couldn’t argue that. Everybody was always playing and laughing and no one ever went hungry. He gave a small nod.

“You’re being such a good boy.” Sensei didn’t sound sarcastic; truth be told, Shoto wasn’t sure what he even would sound like if he were. Sensei’s voice was almost always the same, even and quiet sound. “You understand perfectly. I think we can make a little deal, then.”

Shoto looked up at his Sensei-turned-jailer.

“If you keep this secret,” Sensei looked to him square in the eyes. “And if you tell me if anyone else ever gets suspicious or is trying to do something that they shouldn’t be doing, you’ll tell me right away, all right?”

“Like… Like a spy?” Shoto frowned.

“Exactly.” Sensei stood up from the rocking chair; he seemed so much taller than usual. “And for being such a good boy, I’ll even give you presents for any information you bring me. Anything within reason that you would like.”

This wasn’t what he expected. Shoto stood there and blinked in confusion, even as Sensei started to walk away. He didn’t think he could say no to this; what would happen if he did? “O-Okay, Sensei.”

“I knew you would agree.” Sensei gave him another smile. Then, he began to hum the house’s lullaby as he headed down the hall.
 ------------------------ There were nineteen students in the class called 1-A. Normally, there were twenty, but they all knew where that last student was. Every class, Shoto learned, had their own dorm building, each assigned their own bedroom. Momo and Tsuyu had been the ones to ask if they could see where they lived; Katsuki had asked if they could talk to them without the adults. Shoto was thoroughly surprised to find that both terms had been agreed to without so much as an argument. No adults, a private conversation, and a place to talk. He didn’t know what the catch was, but maybe they could still get some answers. The problem was, he supposed, was that they didn’t know what to expect. Perhaps he thought that all the buildings would be identical to the house back home; mirror images like the bodies that looked like themselves. He thought that things would be familiar, at least. They didn’t even get past the main room. “What the hell is that?!” Mei shouted seemingly at random, pointing at a… Flat, black box on a table in front of some couches? “Uh…” Katsuki’s mirror image sputtered. “You mean the TV?” “That’s a television?!” And then Mei was bounding over to the box in question. Her hands were roving over it, caressing the metal in a very disturbing manner. “It’s so flat! All the illustrations in the books had them so boxy and big…” “Yeah, for antiques…” A Mina double blinked. “Is that a refrigerator?” Katsuki’s shocked voice was such a surprise that even Shoto turned. But then, even he noticed things in the kitchen that he didn’t recognize. He knew of burner ovens with dials, but they had used a wood fire one back at the house, and there was some sort of box on the wall. “What’s this?” “…The microwave?!” A grown up Izuku looked horrified. “Oh.” Shoto looked closer at the device but didn’t dare press any of the impossibly flat word-buttons. “Always wondered what one looked like.” There came a heavy blanket of silence; for a few seconds, the only noises were Mei’s delighted squealing as she inspected the television. When Shoto finally turned to look away from his curiosity; there was shock and pity along nineteen faces. “We didn’t have things like this back home.” A shrug. “It wasn’t that bad, though.” There came a sudden loud screech from the television; it wailed gibberish and the box was no longer a solid color. Flashing grays, whites and blacks ran along the – was that what a screen was? – as it screamed noises that a human being couldn’t possibly hope to reproduce. Mei screamed and jumped back from behind the television, arms flailing. A version of Ochaco with short hair grabbed one of those remote-control things – it didn’t look too dissimilar to what Mei had built for the portal machine – and pressed a button on it. The screen returned to solid black and the noises stopped. “…Okay!” And that was Tenya waving his arm in the air in a chopping motion. “I’m sure you have a great many questions and we’ll do our very best to answer them! Please, get comfortable and make yourself at home!”---------------------------  Nearly ten years later, it all came crashing down.
Truth was, he honestly didn’t know why he told Katsuki and Kyoka that they might make it to the gate in time. Part of him thought they wouldn’t get there before it closed; another part, Shoto knew, wished desperately for someone else to discover out the great and horrible secret that had been hanging over their heads for so long.

He knew what had happened the moment that they returned; Kyoka with smear lines on her face and Katsuki’s uncharacteristically quiet were blatant signs.

“What happened?” The words were out of his mouth before he could even think, even though he already really knew.

“We didn’t make it.” It came quietly, gruffly, from Katsuki.

Shoto took a deep breath. Then, he grabbed each of their arms and pulled them close enough to whisper. “If Sensei sees you like this, he is going to know that you saw something. It’s going to be horrible, but you need to keep smiling and pretending everything is okay or he is going to know somebody was there.”

“How the hell long have you known that this was going on?!” Somehow, Katsuki was still keeping his voice hushed.

“Since I was six.” A small shrug. “You wouldn’t have believed me if I told you.”

“What do you mean I wouldn’t have –” Then, it seemed Katsuki actually thought about it. He seemed to physically deflate. “…Kyoka, go wash your face. He’s right.”

Kyoka still hadn’t said a word; the only thing she did was stumble off, hands still covering her face.

Katsuki then gave him a deep, penetrating stare. No words came from his mouth.

-----------------------

At least their other selves were hospitable. Drinks were offered, but it took another ten minutes to learn how to open these ‘cans’. It took another five to understand what a carbonated beverage was and, yes, it was supposed to be bubbly and it was supposed to be that color.

Along the way, they had gone through an introductory phase; names were passed around the room, along with the shock from both sides about family names or the lack thereof. The entire notion of not having parents – of being orphans – had increased the sympathy from nineteen faces. A great deal of it was aimed at Kyoka and the black tear streaks on her face. Shoto didn’t like it.

Then, they were finally able to ask questions. Though, Mei seemed perpetually distracted by everything, including the half empty metal can in her hands.

“I think, by this point, you can guess that we’re all really confused.” Tsuyu’s proclamation was met with a series of looks stuffed to the brim with incredulity. “Our home was much, much more… Simple?”

“Antiquated.” Mei murmured before taking another sip.

“Let’s get right to the point.” Ketsuki rubbed his face. “We need to know why the hell there are walls around this place.”

“Oh. Protection!” Tenya – no, Iida, gave a solid nod.

“We’ve had an ongoing problem with people trying to kill us.” The other Katsuki -- Bakugo, Shoto knew that he really needed to get his head around these names – let out a snort. “They built the walls and the dorms pretty recently.”

“Recently?” Shoto perked up. “You didn’t always live in this compound?”

“…Compound?” Bakugo’s tone was drenched in confusion.

“Uhm, no, we lived… At home. With our parents.” Iida looked awkward; did he think the word ‘parents’ was going to bother them?

Though, there were so, so many questions from the last few seconds alone.

“Okay, one, who keeps trying to kill you and why?” Katsuki sputtered. “Two, are you telling me that there’s a goddamn city outside of this place? With… People and shit?”

“The League of Villains mostly…” That was Izuku – Midoriya – who gave a nervous shrug. “And… Yes? Many cities and towns…”

“And technically the ‘shit’ part is accurate no matter where you are.” Mei mumbled while she peered inside of her can.

Both groups decided, mutually, to ignore her.

“The league of what?” Katsuki sputtered. “Shit, the tall guy said something about Pro Heroes, is there this whole… Crazy hero-villain dichotomy going on in your society?!”

“…Yes.” Came from an awkward-looking Iida. “That’s a decent enough summary of the past few hundred years, actually.”

There was an entire civilization here. Granted, Shoto couldn’t even pretend to understand how the entire hero-villain thing functioned, but there was advanced technology present and they were in a city. He glanced around to the five of his siblings that were present to find the same epiphanies over their faces.

“Whole cities…” Momo whispered in awe.

“Okay, our turn!” Ashido pushed herself to the front, physically moving Iida aside. “Why do you have numbers on your neck and also do you know how to get Ojiro back?!”

Well, that was going to come up sooner rather than later.

Mei looked up with a manic grin. She did that ‘clap’ thing.

Katsuki physically pulled her hands back down. “No. Not now.”

“Aww.” Mei pouted.

“It wouldn’t have mattered.” Shoto shrugged. “Let her.”

Katsuki glared at him. Shoto stared back. Slowly, the hands holding on to Mei’s let go, but it was done as if the blonde had to physically force himself to do so.

Mei clapped her hands again. “We’re livestock!”

“Now she got that out of her system.” Shoto let off a small smirk at a glowering Katsuki before looking back at nineteen confused faces. “She’s right, though. We were on a farm. We were the food.”

There was that shocked pause he was expecting.

“What.” Bakugo was the first to speak, monosyllable tone harsh and disturbed.

“They were gonna kill me tonight.” Katsuki had stopped glaring, at least. “S’why we left.”

“And you’re saying… Ojiro is now on a farm that eats people?!” Ashido half yelled.

“Pretty much.” Katsuki shifted in place. “So’s our Mashirao. And five other little kids. Trust me, we know how much it sucks, we didn’t exactly want to lose ‘em in that shithole either.”

“But… This is a hero training school, right?” Kyoka looked up with the first ounce of ferocity Shoto could remember seeing on her face in months. “Your Ojiro is stronger than any of us, then, isn’t he?”

“You think he stands a chance?” Tsuyu looked across the couch to the purple-haired girl. “You think he’s going to fight the demons?”

“If anything, it might buy us time.” Kyoka said with a small nod. Then, she looked to the still stunned faces looking at them. “You’re trained to fight, aren’t you?”

“Demons?” Came, baffled, from Iida.

“You bet we are.” Kyoka’s counterpart – Jiro, hairstyle assymetrical and somehow looking even more fierce – stood straight and strong.

“So that’s settled, then.” Mei was still inspecting that metal can. “I’ll start building another portal thing and maybe at least your Ojiro’ll survive when we get there to pull him out.”

“But… You have people in there, too…?” Midoriya frowned, expression suspicious.

“The odds of all seven of them surviving by the time we get there are almost at zero.” Mei didn’t look up from her can. “The little ones might be allowed to live longer… Not that that’s always the case… But maybe Kacchan was right.” A sigh. “They wanted to ship out someone tonight. Might not matter who, as long as they have something.”

There was a long and heavy moment of silence.

“These ‘demons’ eat… Little kids?” That sounded like Kaminari squeaking from the back.

“Mmhmm.” Shoto looked around the room; most of the nineteen other souls were gathered in a large huddle in front of them, sparsely sitting on what couches and pulled over chairs from the dining area that they had, but they weren’t so close together that he couldn’t pick them out individually.

He took a deep breath; no one was going to like this.

The black feathers of a certain teenager were easily recognizable; Tokoyami leaned against a wall, Shoji by his side. His arms were even folded in the same way as their own used to do; the posture was identical and brought back memories. Both Tokoyami and Shoji looked startled when he looked at them. “They took Fumikage three months ago. He was the reason most of us even found out anything was going on. He left his favorite poetry book behind and Katsuki and Kyoka tried to get it back to him. Fumi loved that book and would read it at least three times a day. They had to leave his body.”

Shoto didn’t give himself a chance to take in the shock and horror that radiated off of them; he needed to get to the next target, looking from stunned face to stunned face until he found – yes, that was him. “Rikido was the only one of us that ever really helped around the house. Every week, he’d bake a whole platter of cookies for everyone else to eat. He was so proud of himself whenever he made anything. We all thought he was going to become a chef or something.” A breath. “He was nine when he was shipped out.”

It was easy enough to find the next target; he was standing there, tall and stunned still. “Tenya was the best of the kids at playing tag. I think at one point he was banned from being ‘it’ because he was too fast, but he never got upset about it. I can’t actually remember him getting upset about anything. He was twelve.”

It took a few seconds to find the next one; he was off to the side, almost hidden behind the taller teenagers. “In hindsight, I think they took Minoru because he wasn’t growing. I guess they didn’t want to waste the resources. He was still only as big as the toddlers when he left. He was seven.”

Finally, he found the last one of this group that he recognized; bushy green hair and horror marred his face, but there he was all the same. “Izuku loved to analyze things. He had this notebook where he wrote down everything he saw and how everything worked. He loved quirks in particular.” Shoto couldn’t help the small sigh that escaped. “He didn’t live long enough to come in to his own quirk, if he had one. He was six.”

No one said anything. It occurred to Shoto, then, that it was the closest thing to a eulogy that any of them were ever going to get; there had been no funeral for any of them, no periods of mourning and no real moment where they were able to digest that their loved ones were well and truly gone.

“Every three or four months, someone else would go. Once in a while, they’d send out five or six older kids at one time. They told us we were all being adopted. They all left never knowing anything until that last moment. I hope they didn’t know, anyway. Sensei claimed that it happened quick, suddenly and painlessly. I don’t know if I believe that or not.” Shoto took a breath. “I didn’t want to lose anyone else. But we still screwed up, we still lost six people. I don’t even know if they’ll be alive tomorrow.”

The silence fell again.

No one from either side said anything for a very long time.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

There had been, for as long as anyone could remember, exactly seventeen different variations of tag played on house grounds. Within those seventeen different ways to play what was essentially the same game, there had been a stream of constant alterations and ‘sub-rules’ put in to place depending on any number of factors; which children were playing, the age of whoever was ‘it’, or even if it was raining outside that day and the play area had to be restricted to indoors. There were a few ‘monster’ versions of the game, where there were more than one ‘it’ player or where ‘it’ could ‘spread’ and ‘infect’ others. With so many children joining in – the record on hand was sixty-three at one time, left by a previous child from over a decade ago in a record book started who knows how many years ago – it was often required to bend things around to make it a good time.

As soon as every child was old enough to understand the basic core rules, there was an immediate sub-rule set in place for that child and altered as they grew. It depended, mostly, on their quirk; a boy who could stretch their arms across the field had to have different restrictions in place than a girl who could jump very high.

There was also the matter of a time limit. Most of the time, the games were capped at an hour and that was only if a very young child or someone who wasn’t particularly fast was leading the game. A five-year-old, after all, wasn’t nearly as speedy as a child twice their age. Usually, it ended in about three quarters of that time, but games could go on longer if everyone mutually agreed to it.

For Tenya, the limit was fifteen minutes.

He had never complained about the much stronger time limit placed on him. Primarily because he had never lost a game.

“Remember, you have to count to thirty! Not ten!” Tsuyu reminded him as she hopped away, letting off a soft croak as she did. “You’re not allowed to cheat!”

“Even now? I’m leaving in two days!” Tenya laughed, turning away from his fleeing friends to face a tree. He covered his eyes for good measure. “Fine, fine… Rules are rules, I know.”

“And they have to be full seconds!” Ochaco yelled from across the field. “Not the fast kind!”

“Full seconds…” Tenya reminded himself; it wasn’t his fault that everything he did was fast; thankfully, there were plenty of people to remind him to slow down. “Okay… One… Two…”

Beyond his view, children fled in different directions. There were no rules over where in the surrounding woods they could hide; as long as they followed Sensei’s restrictions of not going near the gate or too close to the big wall, then everything was within the legal realm of the game.

As was popular, the younger children huddled together behind or underneath shrubbery, trying to hide their giggles behind their own hands. Some of the mid-age kids of the more adventurous sorts climbed behind The Mountain or went up a branch or two. Some hid in small ‘caves’, most of which been artificially made just for this purpose.

The older children, the ones with far more experience in this daily adventure, went far beyond that.

“You do understand that if you fall and break your legs or arms again, Sensei is going to be pissed.” Tamaki – one of the three score keepers of this round – looked up a tree with a soft sigh as small hands clamored for grooves in the bark or propelled themselves with their quirks.

“Sensei doesn’t get pissed!” Hanta said from nearly five meters up. Loose tape hung from his elbows; he cracked his lanky arms, preparing for another swing. “He gets really sad, though. Or less happy, anyway.”

“That’s worse!” Nejire – score keeper number two – waved her arms in an elaborate manner; the chain on a pocket watch she held in one hand rattled loudly. “Don’t make Sensei sad! But I believe in you guys not to fall this time!”

There were at least ten children up in the trees. Most of them were the same age as Tenya; their lot had always pushed each other to go further and farther, likely because they considered each other their peers more than the others. Still, their behavior was prone to encourage copycats; twin ten-year-olds clung to branches close by, grinning like lunatics.

Small explosions came from Katsuki’s arms as he pushed himself to the sky; he had learned, along the years, not to make them so loud that whoever was ‘it’ could hear it halfway across the field. A long tongue lashed out from Tsuyu, who flew even farther thanks to a weightless Ochaco clinging to her back. Mina and Yuga were already perched on the same tree, giggling together; neither would ever reveal their secrets to how they got so high so fast. A purple shimmer came from further down as Dark Shadow pulled Fumikage along.

Amidst it all, Mirio stood on two sturdy branches with the same impish glee as the rest of the tree-climbers.

“You’re just encouraging them, you know.” Tamaki rolled his eyes.

Then, everything went quiet; the game had begun.

For a brief moment, there was only silence. A call in the distance of “Ready or not, here I come!” was met, for several long seconds, with only the slight wind blowing through the trees.

Then, there came the loud burst of engines and shoes hitting the dirt at extraordinary speed. It was quickly followed by squeals and screams as Tenya quickly found his targets.

At this particular game, the rules were base; whoever was ‘it’ had to make physical contact with the rest of the players in order to catch them. Simply finding them – as the rules often bent towards the younger players – was simply not allowed.

Which was why there were now a group of small figures running in different directions, laughing and hollering as they went. None of them stood a chance; hands made contact on shoulders, arms, and ruffled a few heads.

“Game’s not going to last five minutes…” Mezo – score keeper number three, who had recently dropped out of playing tag altogether thanks to a recent growth spurt – folded all six of his arms as he watched the blur of blue and white zip on by. “We’re down by half the players already.”

In the field beneath the largest cluster of trees, Tenya came to a swift stop. Nejire stood nearby, bouncing on the heels of her feet, waiting for the younger boy to find the rest of the players nearby. His blue eyes, mischief at the tips, looked to her own; later, she would claim that she hadn’t meant to glance up, even out of reflex, towards the treetops. It was the only clue that he needed; he laughed when he looked to the sky and found them all standing there.

“Nejire, you traitor!” Both of the twins screamed in unison.

Tenya shot up; propelled by the jets in his legs. At once, the ones in the trees leapt from branch to branch, grabbing with arms and playing trapeze as they went along, scattering in different directions.

Mirio, however, went down. He seemingly melted in to the tree beneath him, falling through bark and branch alike.

Usually, Tenya would ignore Mirio until the later ends of the game; it had typically cumulated in a tense standoff between the two, to see when and how the smaller boy would be able to make contact with someone who could phase through everything and anything. There were rumors that Mirio let Tenya win most, if not every game. This time, however, the blue-haired boy stopped, took a moment to adjust his glasses, and then lunged towards the boy who had half fallen through the ground.

Their hands met; Tenya grabbed on hard with a victorious, “Yes!”

The shock on Mirio’s face as he was caught – propelling himself back to solid ground – lasted for only a moment. Then, he was laughing so hard that he clutched his gut, doubled over from the force.

Tenya then shot back up to the trees. Below, Mirio whooped and cheered him on.

From there, it was seemingly an easy feat; he leapt from branch to branch – a couple of which cracked and buckled under the force of his jet-propelled mass – allowing him to get to the fleeing bodies quickly and easily.

The twins were both caught at the same time, one hand on each shoulder. Their overly dramatic death cries were joined by Hanta’s surprised squeal as Tenya nearly smacked in to him when he was swinging mid-air; in the end, Tenya only passed on by harmlessly, hand tapping the other boys’ back along the way. Denki all but surrendered when he realized he had nowhere left to jump to and stood there stoically – if a bit shakily between two branches – as his own arm was tapped. A dejected Hanta helped the blonde back to the ground.

The rest followed a bit more peacefully. Koji couldn’t stop laughing – or at least shaking in the way that showed that he was – and almost fell from his perch; Tenya ended up catching him and helped to set him on a thicker branch. Pony and Eijiro were in two different trees, but Tenya shot back and forth, ping-ponging along; each laughed uproariously as they lost the game. Most of the rest followed suit in a similarly quick fashion. There were rarely hurt feelings; laughter echoed through the woods.

“We’re not even ten minutes in to this round.” Tamaki sighed from below.

“Three players remaining!” Nejire called.

Around the scorekeepers, the rest of the fallen stood around them. Dozens of eyes looked up, trying to find the final three, breath held at this quick but intense game of tag. They whispered quietly between them, unwilling to let Tenya know exactly where his prey was hiding.

“I can see Kacchan over there!” “How did Mashirao even get so high up?” “I think he swung up there with his tail…” “I can see Fumikage and Dark Shadow! So cool!”

“They’re really high up…” Nejire frowned with real concern. “Better not fall again…”

It turned in to a standoff; Tenya stood in the middle, balancing precariously on a thick branch as he glanced between the three remaining players; they stood on different trees in different places. In one tree, Katsuki’s hands sparked as he grinned with determination. Mashirao’s tail clung to the branch above him as he stood on another below, ready to swing away. Fumikage’s Dark Shadow was out in the daylight, large purple hand-like flares spread wide.

Tenya’s jets let out a small sputtering noise the instant before he leapt.

Fumikage had clearly been caught off guard; a chorus of ‘ooh’s went off below at the unexpected choice. Large purple claws grabbed for a branch to pull back as Tenya reached out; his fingers barely grazed an arm.

“I saw that!” Nejire called up. “Fumi, you’re out!”

There came a resounding crack; the branch Dark Shadow had grabbed collapsed. A set of startled screams went out from below when, for a moment, Fumikage was falling. It was only for a moment.

“…We’re flying!” Dark Shadow hollered in delight; claws had spread to wings and gently floated both quirk and the body it belonged to through the air.

“Technically, you’re gliding!” Mei called back from the crowd.

“Fumi, we’re gliding!” Dark Shadow yelled with the exact same amount of enthusiasm. Fumikage began to laugh so hard that the feathers on his face flared; it wasn’t clear if it was out of relief that he hadn’t just fallen to what would have likely been a horrible injury, from this newfound discovery of what his quirk could do or a mix of both.

The sudden drama had caused the game to pause; Tenya visibly breathed in relief from his own perch to see the bird-headed boy land safely. Mashirao had the same look on his face. Katsuki looked for all the world that he didn’t care, but his posture visibly relaxed.

“Hey! Game’s not over yet!” Nejire looked to the pocket watch. “Three minutes left!”

That, everyone would later agree, was when the game got wild.

Tenya jumped for Katsuki in yet another unexpected move. The blonde’s hands sparked out and propelled him backwards and off the branch. For a solid few seconds, it became a game of cat-and-mouse as leg-bound jets tried to match the raw power of hand-launched explosives. Both were seemingly masters at using their abilities. Then, a seemingly ignored Mashirao got involved; he swung from a branch to grab Katsuki’s upper arms in a direction neither the blonde nor Tenya had been going. They landed a few meters below on another set of branches.

The crowd below had to run to the new vantage point, letting out more noises of shock and awe.

“Hey, that’s cheating!” Tenya, however, didn’t back up his words with the right expression; he was beaming with delight.

“There’s no rules against teaming up.” Mashirao said in his usual calm and pleasant tones, smiling widely.

“Yeah, the little kids all hide in groups all the time!” Katsuki practically screeched as he grinned like a madman.

“Two minutes!” Nejire called. “And no blasting him, Kacchan!”

“Aw.” Katsuki said with a pout.

Then, Mashirao grabbed him around the waist and jumped again; he moved, this time, before Tenya did and it briefly caused the blue-haired boy to slip from the surprise of it all.

“Yeah!” Katsuki, at least, appeared to be having a wonderful time; small explosions went off from open palms that pushed the two bodies in new directions. They turned mid-air in a way that neither of them would have been able to do alone.

Tenya, delighted surprise clear across his face, barely kept up with the unexpected twists and turns. Every leap he made was forced in to a single straight bound while Katsuki and Mashirao turned whenever they pleased.

Amazed gasps came from below.

“They’re like acrobats…” “Like in the circus books, with the people swinging on bars in the air!” “This is so cool!”

“One minute!” Nejire squealed. “You can do it!” It wasn’t clear who she was cheering for.

The seconds passed slowly; it stalemated as all three bodies began to pant and sweat at their energetic play. Mashirao visibly began to strain; he winced every time his tail grabbed on to a new branch. Katsuki seemed to notice and, at their next jump, twisted to grab the taller boy mid-air to latch on to the tree himself.

The new move was all Tenya needed; he jumped again, but the tip of his shoe caught on a bump in the bark. He fell as he jumped.

A hand reached out; it grabbed his own. Then, Tenya hung mid-air, looking up in surprise as a seemingly just as startled Mashirao held on.

“Does that count?” Mirio wondered aloud.

“Uh… Doesn’t matter, ‘cause that’s time.” Nejire said with a shrug. “One player left! Katsuki wins!”

The children let out a chorus of cheers.

“That was awesome!” Katsuki beamed as he helped pull Tenya up to the tree. “I mean, not as awesome as me, but you’re both pretty good!”

That was high praise from Katsuki; Tenya and Mashirao shared a pleased glance between them.

“So… How are they getting down from there?” Tamaki said deadpan.

The cheering didn’t stop, but new nervous glances went around.
------------------- The closest Katsuki could figure was that there simply wasn’t anywhere else for them to go. Not that he should be complaining, of course; this ‘Gym Gamma’ that they had all been left in was huge. It was, he thought, bigger than the house had been and more open besides. They had even been given a small stockpile of food – sandwiches, mostly, but there was meat and cheese in them – although the drinks now came in little boxes with straws to punch through the top and he wondered if this universe just didn’t have drinking glasses. There were also what the current adult overseeing them called ‘junk food’ that came in bizarre metallic bags. A few messes had already been made trying to open them, but the younger kids had thankfully found it all hilarious. At least, the kids too young to know what was going on. The ones that didn’t understand what had happened. Right now, there was something of a somber huddling of the older masses. Most of the kids had collapsed in to piles of blankets and pillows that had been left for their use as the afternoon dragged on, exhausted from the day that they had. Yet, he found himself awake. He wasn’t the only one, though. The sun hadn’t even set yet. But it was coming. “I am absolutely sure I can build it faster, this time.” Mei said quietly, unwilling to wake up the others. It reminded Katsuki of the secret meeting they had at all hours of the night in recent months, trying to pull together schemes beyond Sensei’s ever prying eyes. “The technology here is absolutely intense, if they let me even have one little piece of it…” “This is a school, isn’t it?” Ochaco murmured as she tucked strands of her hair behind her ears. “Wouldn’t a school have… Labs?” She said the word as if it were thoroughly foreign; they had only read about theoretical high schools and who knew how much of those storied had been exaggerated or entirely made up. “We can ask in the morning.” Katsuki stood up from the blanket and pillow he had been given to stretch. He was tempted to add more to that, the bite at the edge of his tongue reaching out; he held it back. “I need some air.” “Want some company?” It was Shoto who offered it; Katsuki hated it just a little bit how much he had relied on him these past few months. Although, once the offer was out, several pairs of eyes looked up to silently add their own to the mix. They would follow him, he knew. They’d let him lead them anywhere. They already had once. “…Nah. I just need to clear my head.” He tried to smile, he did, but he had the feeling that it came out in some kind of twisted mess instead. “Keep your asses in check, I’m fine.” Quiet, amused breaths went around. A couple of wry snorts here and there. Katsuki gave a look around; no one looked even close to relaxed or happy. Kyoka had collapsed out of exhaustion over an hour ago, but tears were falling even in her silent sleep. Tsuyu looked thoroughly miserable, cast-clad leg propped up on a small mountain of pillows. Mezo, Hanta, Eijiro and Denki had barely eaten since they had gotten here, picking at small pieces of the sandwiches they had been given and probably only to assure each other that they were fine. Mina, Momo and Ochaco had each been trying to pretend that they were not looking to Koji and Yuga for the past few hours, both of which looked ill, and Katsuki knew at least one of them had vomited at some point today, not counting Yuga’s brief descent in to sickness after he had fired that laser. And that was just the oldest of them. The younger kids were doing worse, at least the ones that knew; in the absence of any of the usual reliable ones, the preteens and older kids that remained were trying to pull in the slack. Fourteen-year-olds and twelve-year-olds shouldn’t be trying take care of more than three dozen kids. Had it been a mistake, slowly drafting them in over the past few months? Letting the five, six, seven-year-olds know of the dangers and their desperate plan to escape it? He needed some air. He needed to figure out how to pull all of this together. Katsuki stalked off to the door, these giant hinged things that opened with the press of a bar. It had, at first, taken a few tries to figure out how the door opened, but now it seemed to make at least a little bit of sense. Outside, the sun was setting. They were now, officially, too late. He stared at the pinks and oranges and the deep night time blues waiting at the edges, as if suffocating the day. The sun was setting. It had been his time. Sensei had said that the demons were coming tonight but the only one there now to take the fall was… In twenty minutes, Mashirao would be dead. Less, maybe. Maybe the other one, too, the one from this universe – and he still couldn’t wrap his mind around that Momo shot Mashirao, how did she even know how to make a gun, but it wasn’t her fault, not really, he couldn’t blame her for that – the demons got a lucky two-for-one out of it all. Most of the others would probably be left alone for a little while, maybe even a few years, but Erika had been caught, too, and she was thirteen and knew too much. She’d probably be next, in a few months. Hadn’t it been his job to save them all? Katsuki had approved Mei’s plan from the moment she told him about it, had even helped her get some of the parts. True, he had never been the oldest kid in the house, but he was the one that saw it happen, had seen the demons with his own two eyes. He had more experience as to what they were dealing with. Not only that, he was the strongest of them all, the best of them all, it had been his duty to save them. He had failed. A 90% job done was barely a job done at all. Most of them were safe, but there was somehow so little solace in that, and the ones that were stuck in Sensei’s hands right now probably weren’t going to be thinking about that when they were dead. Or dying. Like Fumikage had been, blank-eyed death-stare aimed at the gate until his body had been picked up in those long, long claws… Katsuki picked up some trash from the floor – one of those weird metal drinking cans – and threw it across the grass and sidewalk with a shout. “You know, we have trash cans for those.” Katsuki turned with a snarl at the familiar voice. The dark-clad figure that stood a short distance away looked far too different than what his instincts told him to expect; he recoiled for a moment, stunned by the messy waves of black hair, bloodshot eyes and the scar on that face, before things clicked back in to place. “What do you want?” “Mostly, I’m just checking in.” The Sensei-who-wasn’t – what did he ask him to call him? Aizawa? The whole last-names-preferred thing and Katsuki was still getting used to just the idea of family names. “You spoke to my students.” His voice was calm and even and a bit too much like Sensei’s. It had the undercurrent of someone who was perpetually bored, but it was still a bit too similar. “We’re fine and, yeah, we did.” Katsuki grit his teeth and clenched his fists to keep from exploding; there were some sparks coming from his fingertips that he tried to smother. “Do you have any questions?” Just like Sensei, never raising his voice or sounding unnerved. They had just dropped on in from another universe, didn’t that bother him at least a little bit? But the question did give Katsuki pause. He could use this to get some information, perhaps. “Actually… Yeah. Does anybody ever leave this place?” “Leave?” Aizawa blinked once. Still unbothered, still unruffled… “As in, leave to go outside in to the city? Frequently.” Katsuki stared at him and raised a brow; something about that felt too easy. “Yeah? So, if we wanted, you’d let us go outside, too?” A pause. Oh, here it comes. He braced for the excuses, for the reasons and for the lies. “With security, of course.” A pause. “And possibly a tour guide.” Was that some kind of joke? Still, Katsuki squinted in disbelief, still tense. “Just like that? That easy?” “This isn’t a prison.” Aizawa finally frowned, but it was ever so slight. Still like goddamn Sensei. “No one is here against their will.” “We weren’t, either.” Katsuki snorted. Then, he couldn’t help the bitter laugh. “None of us wanted to leave the house, weren’t there against our fucking will either. We just didn’t know anything, and look where the fuck we are now!” Above him, a light automatically turned on from a streetlamp. Katsuki jolted in surprise and glanced up; the sun had set all the way, now. “And that’s that.” Katsuki let out another laugh. “What?” Aizawa’s frown grew deeper. “The others all got shipped out at sunset.” Katsuki let out a snort and stared at the sky, giving this Aizawa the benefit of doubt just for a little teensy bit. “Thought they were going to some utopian better life. Every fucking time, they’d get dressed up in this stupid fancy suit and this boater hat thing that I always thought was just pretentious, and they were just going off to die.” He stopped as something that had been bothering him for a while came back up. “Half-and-half and Little Miss Smartass knew for years. Those two poor bastards watched ‘em all go and couldn’t say a goddamn thing. And Sensei just always smiled and smiled and walked ‘em to the gate…” His hands were sparking again; Katsuki took a deep breath to try and stop it. “Bastard watched ‘em all die. Probably decided who was gonna die. Probably why I was supposed to go tonight, ‘cause I was too much of a pain in the ass.” Then, it felt as if all the energy drained out of him; his fists relaxed and nothing came out. Shoulders slumped. “Knew from the start if anybody got left behind that they were done. If it should’ve been anyone, it should’ve been me, but I messed up and didn’t make fucking sure…” There was no response from the Sensei-lookalike. Katsuki looked back long enough to see him peering at him; even Sensei tended to have that stone-cold expression, but he had known that face his entire life. He knew what pity and concern looked like on that face. With an angry hiss, he looked away, back to the stars that glittered overhead. They were the same constellations. “And now here we fucking are.” Katsuki said with a sigh. “Here we fucking are…”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

For quite a while, no one assembled in the lobby of 1-A’s dorm could bring themselves to speak. Silence hung, a pall over the incredulity and shock that filled each of them even before the mirror images of some of them had left. Granted, the doubles had been missing a few scars and were, generally, thinner and not as fit, but the fact remained nonetheless of just how similar they were. “Well, that was something.” It was Bakugo who eventually broke the silence, sitting down hard on the recently vacated sofa as he did. The fact that he didn’t add any profanity to the observation caused more than a few faces to turn and stare. “‘Something’… Is a bit of an understatement.” Iida said with far off shock. “Can we just…” Kaminari tried to articulate his thoughts, stumbled, took a deep breath and tried again. “Can we just…” Sero put a hand on the blonde’s shoulder. Mineta stared at him from a chair a few feet away with wide-eyed, shell-shocked incomprehension. Kaminari let out a heaving breath and didn’t try to form any more words. “Maybe,” Kirishima said faintly from one of the seats in the dining area; he still held his head in his hands as he tried, like everyone else, to wrap his brain around the situation. “We need to think about all this stuff more… Distantly?” “Distantly?” Shoji said from his spot leaning against the far wall; Tokoyami stood next to him, visibly shaken and mute. “Like…” Kirishima waved one hand as he, too, tried to articulate his words with little success. He took a breath. “I mean, remove us from the whole thing and… Like all those class assignments about hypothetical hostages and people that don’t really exist?” It was certainly an idea; the teenagers present shared near identical looks of thoughtfulness that still held the air of barely-keeping-from-freaking-out. “Okay, so,” Midoriya, at least, was giving it his best attempt; he leaned against the backside of the couch, one hand cupping his chin as he looked to the floor. “Several dozen juveniles escaping from a parallel universe –” “From a farm where they were being eaten!” Kaminari finally got that part out. “Can we please talk about that, ‘cause I am having a really hard time with that part!” Nearby, Koda let out a whimper. “I died.” Tokoyami somehow managed to say the words softly, yet hard at the same time. “So did I.” Mineta echoed hollowly. “So did a ton of you extras, don’t get your panties in a twist.” Bakugo snorted, but it lacked the usual venom. “More distantly, please?” Jiro said from the couch Midoriya leaned against. She had her own head in her hands, as if her head ached. “Do you think she can do it?” Uraraka asked from a different dining chair; Tsuyu and Yaoyorozu sat around her, chairs long since pulled up to her side. “The other… I was about to call her Hatsume, but that’s not her name, I guess…” “You mean if she can make another portal thing?” Tsuyu said with her typical croak. “She did build one without ever seeing anything close to what we have.” “The TV static did give her a shock.” Yaoyorozu frowned. “I bet it’s like what we would do if we suddenly saw aliens in spaceships, kero..” Tsuyu said more softly than usual. “We’d be freaking out, too.” “So she probably can, then.” Uraraka’s expression turned sad. “Are we leaving this to the police and the Pros this time?” “We almost all got expelled for going after Bakugo.” Todoroki said with a deep frown. “And we had a tracking device, we knew where he was, we basically knew what we were up against and,” A brief moment of sheer bafflement crossed his face. “That was without the whole… Alternate universe element.” “We have no idea what’s on the other end.” Shoji folded his arms. “Or what those ‘demon’ things even look like or what they can do.” “So we're just going to leave Ojiro in there?!” Hagakure shrieked from the middle of the kitchen. Several bodies jumped at the volume; every face turned to stare in surprise. “Hagakure…” Uraraka frowned with concern. “We can’t just… Leave him in wherever the heck that place is…” Hagakure’s volume dipped in to a sad croon; Tsuyu abandoned her post by Uraraka to rush to her side and wrap an arm around her invisible shoulders. “He could get really hurt there.” “The Pros are probably already on the case!” Iida chopped his arms in the air, returning more to himself. “We should be leaving this to those with more experience!” “Hypocrite.” Hagakure grumbled. The grip around her shoulder tightened. “Do his parents even know what happened yet?” “Again, the Pros and police are most assuredly on the case!” Iida, at least, slowed down the speed of his chops at the invisible girls’ somehow tangible stare. “Guys,” Midoriya’s said suddenly and sharply, brows furrowed and gaze still aimed at the floor. “Guys, what does a farmer do when livestock runs away?” Silence fell for several seconds. “Oh, shit.” Bakugo shook his head. Then, he let out a manic grin. “If some smartass kept in the dark her whole life can make a goddamn portal to an alternate universe, so can those ‘demon’ things.” “You think they’ll go after them?” Todoroki sat up with alarm. “That the so-called demons will come here to hunt down those other versions of us?” “Oh shit, they could invade us like those alien movies!” Kaminari yelped. “They don't know anything about us any more than we do about those creeps…!” Ashido whimpered from one of the couches. “Yeah, and they’ll just interrogate Ojiro for all the info they want.” Bakugo shook his head but still grinned wickedly. “The fuckers could be at him right now, we don’t know shit..” Another round of silence. “Fuuuuuck.” Both Kaminari and Mineta said at the same time. An audible whimper left from Koda; one at a slightly lower volume came from Sero. “Uhm,” Sato said, awkwardly, from the kitchen. “Is this a bad time to bring up that I found this after the, uhm, everything happened?” He held up what looked like an antique candy tin. “What the heck is that?” Ashido boggled. “Wait, is that the portal’s remote control thing?” “I saw Hatsume’s, uhm, the other one, with that when everything wash appening.” Uraraka’s eyes widened as she lifted herself from her seat. Within seconds, the kitchen counter was surrounded by the majority of 1-A. Only Bakugo held back, arms folded and looking for all the world as if it was all beneath him; the grin on his face, however, had settled back down to a snarl and he shifted in place uneasily. “Uhm… That is one of those old timey metal candy things, right?” Sero gave the innocent-looking contraption a poke. “It’s held together with rubber bands.” Jiro openly gaped. “Is that antenna on top from a… Wire hanger?” “Is it me or are those buttons not actually buttons but pencil erasers painted in different colors?” Ashido stared, eyes wide. She gave one of the so-called ‘buttons’ a press with a finger. “Oh my god, they are pencil erasers!” “Should we open it? See how she put it together?” Todoroki said with only a little bit of excitement in his usual calm tone; even he couldn’t hold the curiosity back. Taking the rubber bands that held the device together was done with all the care of a surgeon working on a very delicate case; Yaoyorozu created a set of tweezers to pull them off one-by-one, sweating under the gaze of her classmates looking on with various levels of eager anticipation. The side panel of the candy tin had gaps at the edges; Yaoyorozu fiddled to grab an end where someone had obviously cut the thin metal apart with the thin edges of the tweezers and carefully lifted it with a slow pace. Wires dangled, connecting the makeshift buttons to the insides. A few gasps of disbelief went around the room. “Y’know, the closest thing I’ve seen to any actual science was the inside of a gaming PC back in middle school,” Kaminari gave a dangling wire a scrutinizing stare. “But this thing is just… Wild.” “What are those tube things?” Hagakure might have been gaping; her tone certainly had a high level of shock. “Are those tiny lightbulbs?” “It looks… Steampunk.” Jiro boggled. “Are they just really old radio parts? Like when radio was a new thing?” “That’s a capacitor. A really old one.” Todoroki said with a wide-eyed stare. “I stumbled across that online once. Those are ancient..” “Hey, that’s some of my tape in there!” Sero said with a little bit too much pride. “Okay, so what we can pretty easily assume is that this thing is essentially held together with hopes and dreams.” Midoriya looked up and around the room of faces. “It’s amazing!” “You know all of those dystopian movies with post-apocalyptic scavengers digging through the garbage for whatever they can use to save the world from, like, eco-terrorists or the oligarchy?” Mineta said from atop a stool. “That’s what this reminds me of.” “We should give this back to her.” Uraraka said with a frown. “If I had spent… What did she say, six years? If I had spent that long on something like this, I’d want it back.” They agreed on it mutually, but no more calm than they had been an hour before.--------------------  They found out what the rest of the world knew by the morning. Classes had been cancelled for the hero courses that day, sent out in a simple email and text message the night before. There has only been momentary surprise at it – not even a villain attack had prompted that response – but then the sheer incredible circumstance of the situation reared its’ strange looking head and everyone had settled back down. Still, some habits were difficult to change, even for a day; at the usual breakfast time, quite a few of 1-A were up in the kitchen. Ashido turned on the TV with barely even a thought; the background noise was just something that they had every morning to go with their early pre-class conversations. The usual early news program had gone on with the usual dramatics; some scenes of Pro Heroes doing their thing, local traffic accidents, politics and the weather. The only thing that came up with regards to U.A. came about in barely a minute-long clip. “…Local police responded to the scene at U.A. yesterday afternoon, only to assure reporters at the scene that it had been a students’ science experiment gone terribly awry. However, it did appear to make physical and near identical duplicates of several members of the student body that had been nearby when the experiment was conducted. Officials are continuing their investigation but have stated that there is no threat to the public, though there may be a threat to the grades of the students responsible.” The reporters on TV laughed. “What the actual heck.” It wasn’t a question that came out of Ashido’s mouth. “They’re covering it up? Why?!” “Because the whole idea of people from an alternate universe escaping from evil monsters might cause a panic?” Todoroki said deadpan. “This does give the, uhm, other us an excuse to go outside, though.” Kaminari frowned – he seemed just as disturbed as Ashido was – but gave a small shrug. “I mean, the whole ‘duplicates’ thing.” “I will be so mad if the police claim that they’re clones or something.” Hagakure grumbled from the fridge. As far as anyone could tell, her head was still inside of it. “I mean… What did they tell Ojiro’s parents?!” A pause. “And who ate all the eggs?!” “I did.” Tokoyami said as he sat on top of a table with a half eaten plate of omurice, ignoring the two chairs at either end of it. “Sorry.’ “You eat eggs?” Todoroki sounded faintly amused. “I quite enjoy dining on the souls of the unborn, yes.” Tokoyami said without missing a beat. “I love how seriously we’re all taking this situation.” Hagakure grumbled, eventually pulling a carton of milk from the fridge.-----------------  No one left the dorms. That didn’t necessarily mean that the action wouldn’t come to them. There had been an air of unease since the day had begun; even with half of everyone in their rooms and the other half trying – and mostly failing – to relax in the common area, there was a certain jitteriness that no one had been able to escape from. Which was why, when the doorbell rang and was followed by a soft knock at the door, at least four people jumped in their seats on the common area couches. Another two let out audible yelps. Then, eyes went back and forth with the same thorough confusion over who could possibly be at the door; none of the teachers would bother to ring the doorbell and no one was expecting any relatives or friends. Eventually, Midoriya – giving everyone assembled on the couches weird looks over why they weren’t getting the door, he had only just gotten off the elevator – made his way to greet whoever it was. He wasn’t really surprised by who was there; not really. “Guys, it’s… Them!” The greenette winced at how that sounded but couldn’t figure out any other way to say it. “Uhm, hey, yeah, come in…” Both Ashido and Kirishima pulled out their cellphones and immediately began throwing messages in to the 1-A group chat. Hagakure physically turned, kneeling on the couch backwards and nearly knocking Sero over in the process. Kaminari simply stared, pale, as if a line of ghosts were filtering through the main entryway. Their other selves were no longer wearing white; what they did wear, however, didn’t match in the slightest. Clothes were either ill-fitting and loose or too tight, coated with gaudy patterns and a few mismatched socks here and there. “We kind of have a favor to ask.” The other Todoroki – the one without a scar covering half of his face – asked meekly. He was wearing a loose shirt with a logo from a band that had broken up more than a decade prior. “Don’t be soft about it!” Bakugo’s double elbowed the bicolor boy from beneath a neon orange tank top. Then, he stared at Midoriya with an intensity that sent his target taking a step back. “You were all trained to fight, right? This is a school for combat and shit? Can you teach us?” “Woah, what?” Ashido sputtered as she looked up from her phone. “Us? Teach you? But aren’t we exactly the same?” “That’s the point.” The Yaoyorozu with her hair down flat tried to smile; it was strained, though the tightness of her too-flowery-pink button shirt might have been the problem. “You know more about how to fight with our quirks than we do. We never had to learn or, really, to try. Not until recently.” The elevator let out a loud ‘ding’; when it opened, everyone else that hadn’t already been there practically rushed out of it. Several of the teenagers from the other universe paused to stare in various levels of wonder and confusion. It was the lack of a certain pink-haired girl immediately shouting ’elevator!’ or some other explanation to the wonders of technology was what caused a few surprised blinks. “Where’s… Mei?” Midoriya was the one to ask, and it was obvious that he had to strain to remember to use the correct name. “A really tall teacher of yours… Vlad King?” Shoto frowned at the odd name but got a few nods of recognition. “He brought us some clothes and then offered to bring her to a ‘lab’. We went with her, but… Uhm…” “Weirdest fucking place I’ve ever seen in my life.” Katsuki shook his head. “Mei saw, uh, her in this giant room covered in metal and piles of shiny god knows what. Then they both squealed at the same time, greeted each other like they were old friends that haven’t seen each other in a goddamn year, and then a guy covered in a metal suit literally wept before moaning… What was it, shit, something like ‘oh no, there’s two of them’. And then he practically threw us out of there maybe two seconds before something exploded.” “So Mei and the other Mei are both probably having a wonderful time.” Shoto said with deadpan tone but a small smile; as if he was used to that sort of behavior. “But Vlad King said we could use Gym Beta for quirk training.” There came a long pause as 1-A shared uneasy glances; the same thought appeared to be lingering across multiple minds. Eventually, it was Ashido that broke the tension. “You want to go back to fight those demon things, don’t you?” “You don’t?” Her counterpart stared with surprise. “One of yours got caught, too, didn’t he?” “Thank you!” Both Hagakure and Tooru shouted at the same time with identical exasperation, cloth over invisible flesh flailing in the air. It was the former that continued talking. “Finally someone’s saying we should go in!” “Absolutely not!” Iida’s arm chopping through the air went with the sheer volume of his voice. “There are a tremendous amount of reasons why we should be leaving this to those more capable!” There was a moment of quiet surprise around the room from both sides. “…Oh.” Katsuki reeled back. “You’re afraid of the demons. I mean, shit, who the hell wouldn’t, but –” “No.” Shoto interrupted harshly. “They’re afraid of getting in trouble..” “What?” That visibly caught Katsuki by surprise; he looked once to Shoto and then to the residents of the world that they were in. “What?” “There’s… Rules. And stuff.” Midoriya answered lamely; he rubbed the back of his neck. “We’ve all almost been expelled for trying to do heroics while still students.” Behind him, Iida blushed furiously. “Oh, for…” Katsuki rubbed his face. “Then, fine, you don’t have to go with us, just teach us how to use our quirks right, we’ll get this shit done ourselves!” The looks around the room still looked off, but they were settling down to something more agreeable. Bakugo stared; it wasn’t quite a full glare. “Not like we can get in to any more shit at this rate. But weren’t there more of you? What did you do with the little kids?” “A few of them might show up, but…” Momo let out a soft sigh. “None of us have quirks that are similar to any of theirs. And this nice man offered to watch them with the older ones. He looked a little thin, so I hope he’ll be alright…” “He said his name was Toshinori?” Shoto said the unfamiliar name slowly, syllable-by-syllable. “I’ll be honest, I don’t know if that was his first name or his last.” “They’ll probably be fine.” Midoriya said uncertainly, glancing around the room. A few shrugs were his primary response. A few smiles went around the room as well. “Well, then, this is great!” Midoriya tried to smile. “Let’s go, then!” “All of us?” Mineta asked from somewhere in the crowd. “Why not?” Midoriya’s near-smile strained. “We might be able to help!”------------- Aizawa wasn’t the least bit surprised to find each and every one of his students in Gym Beta. Granted, Vlad had said as much – after remarking how the other ones all undressed in front of each other and seemed completely unabashed by the nudity, something that required a whole other conversation – but he knew his own students well. They were a mass of bleeding hearts; it was something rather expected and nurtured in the heroics students. He often wondered if it was to their detriment. Training can only get so far and the entirety of 1-A were still so very green. The insane, monumental trials that they had faced over the past few months had certainly pushed them to the brink and back but something about the latest situation still rankled; it felt like there was more up ahead, something that, possibly, would leave corpses in its’ wake. He had learned an eon ago not to ignore these premonitions; they were almost always on the mark. Though, once at the large gym with plenty of space to sprawl out, things seemed to finally click in to place for the remaining 19 students – remaining, Aizawa reminded himself, one was already lost and who honestly knew what state that boy was in right now. He tried not to think about it, to keep it as distant as any other potential casualty that came in this line of work. But, at least he could focus on the here and now. To focus on his own students. When he got his eyes on the mark, he wasn’t surprised by what he saw.Pairing up, it seemed, had been done automatically, lookalike-to-lookalike; although the awkwardness of being with someone nearly exactly like themselves still hung, there was actual conversation going on. Even sneaking in from the back entrance, Aizawa could hear bits and pieces that got clearer the closer he got. The teenagers from that other world were letting out laughter and cheers alongside identical voices. Both sides could learn a great deal, here; Aizawa hoped his students were smart enough to use this little get-together to their advantage. For now, he settled back to watch, hoping not to be noticed; the children from that other world reacted fairly negatively to him and he wanted to avoid that. Hagakure let out a startled, but delighted cry as Tooru’s transparent skin shimmered for a moment before turning in to a visual replica of water. An identical shout came when the blinding sparkles of Hagakure’s Ultimate Move went off. Explosions came from the other end of the gym; both Bakugo and Katsuki had filed down to the wall between both entryways and hadn’t stopped since they had gotten there. They were joined, a bit further off – because who would want to get close to two Bakugos – by Aoyama and Yuuga – the former of which had a backup belt for the latter to use – but Aizawa noticed that they both still kept closer to the restrooms. What was a problem for one was apparently an issue for the other. “You can do what?!” Mezo openly gaped as limbs sprouted limbs which sprouted even more of the same. “How in the world…? I had never even tried…” “Didn’t you try to see what your quirk could do when it came in?” Shoji asked with clear amusement. “Honestly, the fact that I had one on top of the multiple arms was a surprise.” Mezo frowned under his white mask. His expression then turned thoughtful. “Though, once, when I was… Six, maybe seven, I got sick and feverish and I think I tried to make wings. I thought I hallucinated the entire incident.” “I can assure you that you did not!” Momo half yelled from where she tried to create a mug from one arm; whether the warped and twisted handle was intentional or not was unclear, but Yaoyorozu smiled with pride next to her. “It was an absolutely terrifying afternoon. I had nightmares for weeks…” “I remember that, kero.” Tsuyu giggled from a nearby pile of cushions; her cast-covered leg was propped up on a pillow. “Especially after the whole thing with the birds…” “Birds?” Asui blinked. Then, her skin shimmered as she camouflaged away. “…We can do that?!” Tsuyu gasped in wonder. “I want to do that!” “Birds?” Jiro asked from next to her doppleganger; Kyoka held both of her earjacks in each hand and frowned at them with focus. “Oh, uh, Koji’s quirk, uhm…” Tsuyu glanced to the distance. Koda and Koji appeared to be at an impasse; one held a beetle in his hand and the other a small magpie. How either animal even got in to the gym was a mystery, but both appeared absolutely terrified and frozen by the others’ animal. “Someone might want to help them.” Tsuyu sounded amused. “Or they’ll be stuck like that for a while.” “Your Koda – er, Koji is afraid of birds?” Asui's skin flared back in to its’s natural color. “Oh, yes.” Tsuyu let out a half laughed croak. “When his quirk came in, for some reason he was afraid of it. Mezo happened to be there when it happened and startled him, and they were both only four at the time, and somehow Koji called an entire flock of birds down…” “They all attacked my face.” Mezo said deadpan. “An entire flock of crows. I remember the birds coming down and then absolutely nothing for two days. Apparently, my face was so scarred from the attack that it frightened the other kids, so I decided to wear a mask… And then I just got used to it.” Shoji stared at his lookalike with disturbed fascination. Mezo turned back to look at the teenager that looked like him. “…That’s not why you wear a mask, is it?” Mezo blinked. “No, no it is not.” Shoji boggled, clearly disturbed. They each had the same scars but caused by different situations? Aizawa didn’t even pretend to understand how the entire ‘alternate reality’ thing worked, but that was something that would probably cause no end of headaches for scientists and philosophers alike. Especially knowing that Todoroki’s duplicate didn’t have the burn mark over half of his face. “Anyway, none of us really liked birds, not after that… I kinda can still remember everybody screaming… But Koji really has it the worst.” Tsuyu shrugged. In the distance, both Sero and Hanta were slowly trying to take the animals away from the still-frozen boys that held them. By the way both of them were acting, it was reminiscent of a scene from a bank robber film; limbs slow, trying not to set off any alarms. Both Kirishima and Eijiro had stopped whatever they had been doing to stare in clear amusement; they both had the same red hair flared up, but the latter’s looked worn and pale. Aizawa wondered faintly how difficult it was to get hair dye in the apocalypse. There was already a problem that Aizawa could see coming up; what his own students did was his responsibility and had actual consequences, and he had the distinct feeling that they would at least try not to do anything too extreme or impulsive. The children from that other world, however – and Aizawa felt a pit in his stomach that he was starting, goddammit, to care what happened to them – didn’t have the same gravity. These children – all fifty-odd of them – had no parents, no guardians, and absolutely no one at present to hold them accountable for their actions. There was, similarly, no one to stop them from rushing in headlong in to a dangerous situation to rescue their friends – siblings? – from another portal that Mei was, without a doubt, probably halfway done with by now. There were no punishment that they could inflict; there was nothing for them to loose outside of each other, and Aizawa could already feel the glares from a certain detective, howling school psychologist and a very small principal for even daring to suggest such a thing. Then, he noticed a small group standing by themselves. Five students mingled awkwardly not too far off, listening in but not contributing anything to the conversations going by. Aizawa kept to the shadows and inched a bit closer. No one had noticed him yet; he’d have to have a conversation with them all about being more aware of their surroundings. Midoriya, Tokoyami, Mineta, Iida and Sato seemed at a mutual loss as for what to do with themselves. It was one thing, he supposed, to know that a parallel universe version of yourself existed but was evil – frankly, in this line of work, ‘evil’ was just a thing that was and anyone could theoretically become either a villain or a hero under the right situation, there was still something abstract about the idea – but the idea that your other self had died a horrible, senseless death? That there was absolutely nothing they could do to help someone exactly like themselves in every way? Another long conversation that that lot would need to have. Probably with Hound Dog. It was something that they would have to come across anyway along the line of becoming a Pro Hero – not being able to save everyone was simply a sad reality of this life – but this held the dangers of becoming far more personal. Not to mention that they lost a classmate yesterday through a magical portal of death. Things were moving very, very quickly. “This is kind of awkward.” Sato stood there with a rather bewildered frown on his face. “Awkward?” Iida said with confusion. “Why is it awkward? This gives us a remarkable opportunity to see our fellow classmates in a remarkable situation!” “Yeah, he’s right.” Mineta was visibly ogling quite a number of the paired up girls. “There’s definitely stuff to see…” “Cretin.” Tokoyami looked down at the shorter boy with disgust. “Really? With all of this going on?” “What?” Mineta answered as if he was insulted, but his eyes were still aimed at the closest group of girls; the two Yaoyorozus. “Didn’t they say that everyone dies as kids? So they’d just…” He looked like he had begun to drool. “They wouldn’t even know…” “That’s not right.” Sato grimaced and backed away a few paces. Aizawa took a deep breath; oh, he was going to have to have another one of those conversations with that boy. Honestly, one wrong move and Mineta would be expelled; certainly, he had to be aware of how the rest of the student body saw him? He was about to step in and say something to distract from Mineta’s behavior, only to be beaten to the punch. “…They wouldn’t know.” Midoriya had that look on his face, the kind that said that his brain had found a clue and was following the trail it led. “What?” Sato blinked. “Not you, now.” Tokoyami stared in horror. Midoriya ignored them. Instead, he waved a hand to get the attention of several nearby groups. “I’ve been wondering something…” “Something about where we’re from, I’m guessing.” Mezo – along with everyone else nearby – stopped to look to Midoriya with open curiosity. “How long have those, uhm, demon things been around?” Midoriya asked with a casual air. Oh, finally. Someone was actually trying to use the calm and pleasant air to subtly interrogate people. At least one of the students in 1-A had their head on their shoulders. Though, there was no immediate answer; a few uneasy looks went around. “We’re not sure?” Kyoka shrugged, looking deflated. “What year is it?” That came from a longer-haired Ochaco, who now was walking in the direction of the closer group. Uraraka trailed behind her, visibly confused but not alarmed. “What do you mean ‘what year is it’?” Shoji blinked. “… They didn’t even tell you the year?!” “Oh, this is about the book thing, isn’t it?” Tsuyu groaned with a croak. “I keep forgetting about that, kero.” “The most recent book we were able to find in the house’s library was published in 2015.” Momo said with a frown, pulling a near-created nesting doll from her arm. It was mostly complete; only half of it was unpainted. “And our calendar claimed it was 2145…” “But we had a theory that they reset those every so often.” Mezo looked like he was frowning under the mask. There came a brief moment of silence. The nearby students of 1-A openly gaped. Eventually, it was Asui that broke the silence. Her voice came hoarse. “2015 was over five hundred years ago.” Another beat of silence came and went. “Yeah, five hundred years sounds about right.” Ochaco mused. “That would give a massive foreign takeover time to set up the systems that they had.” Mezo nodded along. “They were absolutely prepared for everything else we had thought up.” “Like someone else had tried before.” Tsuyu sighed. “Sensei wasn’t even surprised when I tried to tackle him.” She glared at her broken leg and mumbled something that sounded like ‘stupid sensei’. “What else did you try…?” Midoriya sounded like he was suddenly talking to a hurt animal. He got several annoyed looks in response. “It was only… Two days ago.” Momo said with a frown. “I was with the others back at the house.” “So was I.” Ochaco sat down on the ground; she shifted until she was comfortable and ready. “But, pretty much…” “It pretty much went to hell when the watch mission failed.” Suddenly, Shoto was there. Todoroki brushed ice off of his arm behind him. “Sensei knew what was going on for a while and we were just too blind to see it.” The plan had been to get to the wall. It had been Shoto’s job to distract Sensei while a few of the over-14’s went to get to the top of the wall to better assess how to escape from there, while the rest kept watch for a signal from the second story window. Should the candle light go on, they were to get to the others to cancel the inspection.
It had seemed so easy. As if they had everything well in hand. That they had tricked Sensei Shota so thoroughly.

“I don’t need you, you know.” Sensei had said cryptically from behind Shoto in the empty spare room the boy had led him in to with the pretense of having a conversation about security. “In fact, I believe it’s time to end our arrangement here and now.”

“What?” It hadn’t been what Shoto had been expecting; he whirled to face Sensei in surprise. “What, I’m… Fired?”

Sensei smiled at him. It was not a kind smile.

Shoto knew, then, that he was on very thin ice. He panicked. “But you need me. You need me to keep the others calm and ignorant, don’t you…?”

“Oh, you’ve been a very good dog.” Sensei still didn’t stop smiling. “Even if you’ve been a lying traitor.”
“He knew I had been a double agent.” Shoto let out a deep sigh, he gave Midoriya a nod of thanks as he passed over a bottle of water. Mismatched eyes stared at it for a moment but made no move to open it. “He knew I had been giving as much information to the other kids as I was to him and I don’t know when he figured it out…” “Don’t be so hard on yourself.” Mezo sighed. “You did the best you could. We all did.” Ochaco nodded; she pulled up her knees to hug them. “We figured out something was wrong when Sensei came outside but Shoto wasn’t with him.” “So I went in after Sensei was out of sight.” Mezo was giving an identical sealed bottle of water in his own hand the same funny look. “Found Shoto in the locked room and busted him out. The rest of those at the house stayed behind, but I went with him in to the forest.” “That’s when things really went to shit, though.” Katsuki walked up to the little group on the floor. Bakugo was glaring at him from across the gym, hands on his hips. They had gotten to the wall. Three of them were already standing on it.
They had used some rope Momo had created mostly to get up, but Hanta’s tape had gone to good use as well; they had propelled up, tape on their feet helping them up the tall, tall wall. At the time, Momo had even complimented him on it, pleased by how well their quirks had worked together.

She had celebrated too soon.

“What do your elf eyes see?” Denki called up.

“I swear to god…” Hanta rubbed his face. Momo didn’t turn to see if he was seeing what she was seeing.

“I can’t make anything to get across this.” Momo covered her mouth with one hand; a chill wind came around and caused her to shiver. “It will take me weeks to make enough hang gliders, if that even works.

“It’s a… Cliff.” Katsuki openly gaped at the chasm.

Momo didn’t blame the usual boisterous boy from suddenly going quiet; a steep, deep sheer end from the top of the wall to a bottom that she couldn’t even see bottom of lay before them. The rest of the forest standing across the way was what seemed to be set an insurmountable distance to get to. “Maybe… Maybe in the winter, Shoto and I can make an ice bridge…”

“We don’t have until winter, though.” Hanta groaned. “That’s six months and, what, two shipments off? Three if we’re really unlucky.”

“Did you just say there’s a cliff?!” Tsuyu yelped from below. “Can we get across?”

Silence came from three on top of the wall.

It was the only reason that they heard the approaching footsteps. Momo remembered the gasp of fear that she let out when she heard it.
“There wasn’t enough time to get off the stupid wall.” Katsuki grumbled. “We did rather… Panic, didn’t we?” Momo blushed at the memory. “I just stood there like a trapped animal…” “Like a deer in headlights?” Sato offered. Several blank stares met his own. “…Nevermind.” Sato looked like he wanted to shrink in to the floor. “We knew we were stuck, though.” Tsuyu sighed. “I tried to pretend like we were just playing a game and, like an idiot, went ‘hi, Sensei’!” Asui rubbed her duplicates’ back; she got a sigh and a croak for the effort, but it seemed to calm her lookalike down. “We didn’t even stand a chance. Not really.” Katsuki glared at the floor. “Hi, sensei!” Tsuyu plastered on the fakest smile Katsuki had ever seen; she did it before she even turned around. Probably to try and mask her real emotions better. “What’s wrong, kero?”
Sensei stopped after two more steps. An open pocket watch in one hand – what they had learned was actually a tracking device for the lot of them, he always knew where each of them were – closed with a resounding ‘click’. The warm smile that they had grown up with was in place, seemingly calm and unbothered.

Katsuki had, over the course of the past three months, decided to hate everything about that smile.

“Fifteen years.” Sensei said cryptically.

“…Wha?” Hanta said eloquently from atop the wall.

“We’ve been living together for fifteen years.” Sensei looked from face to face, making eye contact with each of them for a couple of seconds each, before continuing. “But I do believe that this is the first time I’ve ever spoken to you without the acting. It’s truly a pleasure to finally meet you all.”

Well, the jig was well and truly up. Katsuki’s fists clenched at his sides, but he was too wary now to make a move. He could see the others had their hackles similarly raised.

Then, Sensei laughed. It wasn’t a noise he made often, Denki physically recoiled. “Oh, children, please, be at ease. It’s alright, now. No need to worry.”

All of this was wrong. Every single second going by held that same warning that it did at the gate, when they had found the corpse. Kyoka had never been the same after that, was currently in the main bedroom right now because she had been too afraid of letting her face tell Sensei all of their secrets, but it looks like they managed to screw up all by themselves.

“You don’t have to be ignorant children that don’t know what’s going on.” Sensei looked right at him; Katsuki held his glare. “Right now, I’m just the caretaker and you are the livestock meant to be food.”

Well, wonderful; they had confirmation about how utterly screwed they were. From the corners of his vision, Katsuki could see everyone else stiffen. From even further off, he thought he saw more movement, but didn’t dare break eye contact with Sensei to double check. Were more of the others coming?

“But, please, don’t misunderstand.” Sensei’s smile waned ever so slightly; not enough to be real. “I honestly do care about you children. I always have and always will. That’s why I’m here.” He paused, as if he were taking a breath, but his expression and posture didn’t change. “I want you to give up.”

“Give up…?” Tsuyu whimpered.

The smile finally left; it fell slowly, waning until it melted in to a soft frown. Sensei’s entire body seemed to relax. “Give up this resistance of yours. Please. I don’t want you to suffer.”

For a moment, Katsuki was almost fooled in thinking that this was genuine.

Almost.
“Oh, are we taking a break?” Sero came from the side. He stopped when everyone turned to look at him. “…What’r we talking about?”Hanta gently pulled along both Koji and Koda by each hand, as if leading along two traumatized toddlers. He set them on the floor further away before joining his counterpart. “Woah, yeah, what’s going on?”“The wall, two days ago.” Tsuyu groaned. “We’re telling them about Sensei’s crazy monologue.”“That thing!” Hanta rubbed his neck; he almost covered the numbers plastered there. “I don’t think I’ve ever been more terrified in my life than in that half hour.”
The smile came back almost immediately. Hanta well and truly thought that he might piss himself from sheer terror.

They had all grown up with this man as their father; a seemingly long and happy life, carefree and innocent. Yet, in the span of time since the others told him about the whole crazy demons-that-eat-kids thing, that smile became utterly and thoroughly creepy.

It had been a mask. The entire time, for their entire lives, that pleasant smile had been a lie.

“Please. I don’t want you to suffer. I don’t want to have to make you suffer.” How could Sensei say something like that like he was talking about the weather!? That had been a blatant threat! “After all… It’s been a happy life, hasn’t it? A warm and happy life, free of hunger, cold, heat or the truth. You can die satisfied. What part of that is bad?”

There were so, so many things wrong with that that Hanta honestly didn’t know where to start. He wondered, dimly, if there had been other kids here on this wall and how many of them had jumped.

“A happy life?” Katsuki growled. Oh, no. “This ‘happy life’ you’re talking about, like how Fumikage must’ve oh-so-happily died in a pile of blood in the back of a truck?”

“It was in an instant.” Sensei was still smiling, why the hell was he still smiling?! “Until that one moment where he didn’t even feel it, he lived a happy life with everything that he ever loved right at his hands. He never wanted for anything.”

Still smiling.

“Don’t look at us like that!” Katsuki jumped off the wall; he landed on the grass below with a soft ‘thump’. “Stop with the fake smiles! Even if I gotta ‘suffer’ or whatever the fuck you think the truth does, we’re going to at least live freely. I’m going to decide what makes me happy, you got that?!”

Hanta shared a look with Momo; they began to climb back down the wall using the earlier created rope. A bit slower; not threatening to break limbs like Katsuki had just done.

This was a mess. This was an absolute insane mess.

“It’s impossible to escape.” Sensei’s calm demeanor did not change. “It’s dangerous outside, too. There’s nothing out there for you to even get to.” Then, he held out his hand towards Katsuki; an open palm, up and offering. “Come back home, children. We can still all live together with the same joy we’ve always had. Until your end, whenever your time runs out. I want all eight of you to be happy.”

Wait, eight? Hanta almost slipped on his own tape on the wall. He glanced to Momo again; her eyes were wide.

Sensei thought only eight of them knew?

Katsuki let out a snort. He shifted in place. “…Fine. Fine, Sensei. We’ll stop being good kids.”

Then, Tsuyu leapt; her tongue wasn’t out but her frog-like limbs spread wide to tackle Sensei to the ground. As she did, Denki ran off in a dash, heading back to the house. From where he was, Hanta could see Tsuyu reach for the pocket watch to try and grab it.

Sensei let out a small laugh.

A second later, there was a loud, sickening crack. Everything stopped. His own feet finally hit the ground; Hanta turned at the same time as Momo and they both saw Tsuyu on the floor, Sensei on her. One of his arms was on her shoulder. The other held her leg.

Then, Tsuyu started screaming.
“An attempt had been made.” Tsuyu moaned. “And I messed it up.”“So there’s a tracking device in a pocket watch?” Aizawa finally stepped out of the shadows; this information was too good to not get more insight in to. “And you each have an implant?”Everyone stopped; his own students didn’t seem alarmed or surprised, but the ones from the other world froze completely.It was, surprisingly, Ochaco who relaxed. She gave a nod. “Yeah. We think they’re behind our ear in most of us, but that doesn’t take in to account Koji or where it had been on Fumikage or on some of the little ones…”Hanta was giving her a horrified look.“What?” Ochaco frowned at him. “He’s not Sensei. He’s mean so that means he isn’t lying. Sensei was always, always nice. Nice is different from good.”Now, a few of the others from both universes were staring at her.“That’s… Logic. I think.” Sero blinked.“It’s something.” Kyoka said with absolute bewilderment.“After that, the others came running up, kero…” Tsuyu let out another deep sigh. “And Sensei carried me back to the house. Said it was a clean break and wouldn’t leave bruises, which I guess is important for food meat.” She had a slight air of sarcasm that Asui didn’t quite have, Aizawa noticed.“He kept fucking monologuing after that, is the thing.” Katsuki growled. “He didn’t stop smiling and he hadn’t even been done.”
The others had come. Well, some of them. Katsuki barely noticed when Mezo had shown up. Denki had even stopped in his tracks.

He just couldn’t stop staring at what was happening and he didn’t think any of the others could, either. Sensei had just broken Tsuyu's leg. He had laid a hand on one of them. That had never, ever happened before. Not even in discipline.

“There, there. It’s okay, now.” Sensei said calmly; he sat the whimpering Asui up against him. He was petting her like he used to do when they were very small and had nightmares about nonsense. “I’ll have to control you all until the end. That’s how special you all are. Each and every one of you, a special meal that only the most important ones can eat. The highest quality.”

The others were whimpering; Katsuki could hear it, could hear the whine from Hanta and the small choking gasp from Momo. Mezo and Denki, from the corner of his vision, both looked thoroughly ill.

Still with Tsuyu up against him, Sensei turned his face to look right at him; he made eye contact again and Katsuki held it despite the horror creeping up his spine and the warning bells still going off in his head. The smile on Sensei’s face had turned in to an intense stare that he couldn’t look away from. “That’s why I have to protect you no matter what. To save you from yourselves. I had to do this because you weren’t going to give up.”

Tsuyu let out another small scream. Once, years ago, they had found a near-dead rat that had been dropped from the sky; a bird had dropped it. It had let out a wild, mournful shriek before it took its’ last breath. Tsuyu reminded Katsuki of that rat.

A dying animal, torn apart by things beyond its ability to control or understand, wailing pain and impotent rage against the world before the end.

“Things have changed.” The smile came back. Sensei looked calm. “I received word from my superiors. An accident happened with another farm and they need an emergency replacement. Congratulations, Katsuki, your shipment date has been set. You leave tomorrow.”

And just like that, as if they had discussed nothing of importance at all, Sensei picked up Tsuyu and slowly walked away.

“The problem is that he still has the tracking device.” Ochaco frowned. “Even if we could go back, we don’t know how to get the devices out of our own bodies or where they are.”

“Wait.” Midoriya’s eyes darted; he had that look again, the ‘something has occurred to me’ look. “If they have tracking devices, they have satellites to run them.”

He received a whole round of absolutely blank looks.

“Okay, pretend we know what that means.” Hanta said with a far off look.

“You think they have antivirus?” Shoji said with faint amusement.

“Ooooh!” Uraraka’s eyes glistened.

“We are not launching a virus at an… An alien satellite in another universe!” Iida chopped his hands in an air. “This is far, far beyond what heroics students should be attempting!”

“Honestly, I agree. Every single word of that statement was absolute insanity.” Tokoyami stared.

“I didn’t say we had to go with them to do it.” Midoriya shrunk at the stares. “Just give them help and the capability?”

“At least some of you have sense.” Aizawa rolled his eyes. “As of this moment, we don’t even know if we can make a portal back to your universe. If we can, Pro Heroes will be tasked with the rescue, as they’re trained and have experience with performing.”

“In to another universe, though?” Katsuki let out a snort. “Besides, if you don’t let us go with you, we know everything you want to know about the house and everything around it. So we’re doing something whether you like or not!”

“If those demons make a portal first, we’ll probably all have to get in on it.” Sero sighed.

The response that came from those around him were in one of two categories; incredulous and annoyed, or absolutely horrified.

“Shit! That didn’t even cross my mind!” Hanta yelped.

“Of course they would be able to…” Mezo groaned.

“Well, fuck that, if they come here, we’ll kick their ass!” Katsuki roared. “Better reasons to learn how to fight! Don’t bail on me now, you weak shits!”

Somehow, the insults worked to inspire those from his universe; a few steely expressions met his, and nods went around.

“We will know immediately if and when another portal opens.” Aizawa took a deep breath. “But I have to admit, I see no immediate issue with learning how to defend yourselves and to safely use your quirks.”

“Yeah!” Katsuki’s cheer came with the standard Bakugo Angry Expression. “Then come on, let’s get back to it!”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

It was incredible, really, how quickly things fell in to some sort of routine. They had no choice but to start classes back up again. The semester was coming too quickly to an end and final exams were on the horizon; strange visit from an alternate reality, mini refugee crisis and a missing student were, as was the way with U.A. in general, not quite enough to put things on a permanent hiatus. Time marched on and things still had to get done; future heroes couldn’t be coddled. Though, Aizawa could see the how the latest change reared itself in his students. The glances sent towards the empty desk, the unease on their faces as they tried to focus, and the heavy cloud of malaise that seemed to have settled, generally, on the student body. He knew, without having to ask, that no one could bring themselves to go near Ojiro’s room; it had become a tomb in the middle of 1-A’s dorm. The sad thing was, if it had been any other way – if they had wept and demanded vengeance or done half the things that they had done when Bakugo had been kidnapped a few months ago – he would have had to lecture them about it. Pro Heroes lost people in the line of duty on a regular basis. People got kidnapped and killed; it was assumed that they were eventually going to have to put themselves in that frame of mind on a constant basis. They simply hadn’t intended it to be this early. They were all acting exactly as they should be. They had grown after each trial with villains and had, by all accounts, learned the right lessons. Still, Aizawa could see the wrongness of it, how these children had lost their innocence for the world too soon. There was still the suspicion that they were biding their time, that the lot of them would charge through the portal as soon as it was up and running, but there were already measures in place for that. By this point, nearly two weeks later, just about every student and staff member knew what had happened. Whispers and social media alike hid nothing. But, by some miracle, the true origin of the fifty-some-odd new additions did not leave the campus grounds. The police, as they were wont to whenever Pro Heroes were involved, kept things hushed; somehow, the students knew to do the same thing. He had absolutely no idea what Ojiro’s parents were told; the police had been in charge of that. Aizawa hoped that they, at least, had been told the truth; that their missing and most likely dead son had been lost not in some stupid accident, or that he was only ‘temporarily displaced’ or whatever spin could be spun about it. He hoped that they knew. From there, though, it became almost comically easy to include these new children in the regular way of things. Eri, at least, had a whole group of new children to play with, and she was already more-or-less getting along well with some of them. Teachers trained for younger audiences had been brought in to catch the variously aged children up on education and, as far as Aizawa knew – as far really, as he bothered to check – they were generally well-versed in everything except the things that made sense. They knew nothing about history or popular culture and were still struggling with basic electronics, but they were doing as well as their local peers in all other subjects. Which begged the question as to why. If those children had been intended to be livestock – a notion that still sent disgust rippling through him – why bother educating them? Cows and pigs didn’t need to be happy, they only needed to be fed. There were some theories floating around; it had become the gossip of the rest of the faculty. None of them were happy theories. There was, at least, one bright point to the days. Quirk practice still went on as usual every afternoon, but Aizawa had decided – had been convinced, really, though he wouldn’t admit it – to allow those children from the other world to join in and participate. Whichever of them wanted to come; he made the offer as open as he could. Even the youngest ones could watch if they wanted, though he was hesitant on that front, or at least the ones old enough to walk. He hadn’t thought any of the little ones would actually want extra work in their days, and that had been the gamble, but then Present Mic let slip – or had been waiting to blurt it out – that the try-outs for next semesters’ incoming freshmen were coming up soon and some of them had such amazing quirks… Those kids probably had very little idea what that meant, but the stars in their eyes had been unmistakable. They had only begun to learn about hero society and Pro Heroes as it was and now these little kids had ideas in their heads. Thanks, Mic. Well, it was what it was. They were here now and, yes, the little ones weren’t entirely his idea, but the older ones – the duplicates of his students – had shown up every single day and it was working out exactly as he had hoped it would. Cementoss, of course, had been there to help set up Gym Gamma for the usual purpose. The tall spires spread around the grounds allowed everyone at least a little bit of privacy, but a small corner had been set up for the younger ones. An impromptu jungle gym with things to climb and swing on. Right now, though, it was almost abandoned for the spectacle going off in the middle of the field. Both Todoroki and Shoto had apparently individually come to the conclusion that they both needed to practice mixing and using the others’ style in to their own. At present, the former was wielding a crude sword made of ice; the latter was trying – and mostly failing – to wield his flame half with the same level of competency as his local counterpart. Both were fumbling quite a bit, but the fact that they were trying and, thus, learning from the discomfort was enough. That, and it was incredibly flashy. A host of children were watching in awe and cheering seemingly at random for both parties. A few of the others spread around the spires were sneaking looks but were giving at least a token effort to focus on their own training. Todoroki lunged with the sword; it was a warning step. Shoto saw it for what it was, dodged to the side, and brought up a plume of fire. The sword made of ice came down on the flames; it billowed in to steam, nearly burning a surprised – but not frightened – Shoto, who leapt back and away from the heat. Aizawa let out a deep sigh as he saw this for what it was. This wasn’t a real sparring match; Todoroki was trying to teach his counterpart what he knew without outright saying it. It was stupidly noble and, really, a waste of time; he needed to focus on his own training and not to take in a stray that just happened to have his own face. Normally, he would say something. Hell, the itch to yell out a correction then and there was incredibly strong. These children from that other world would need years of training to catch up in muscle mass alone, but, at the same time, both sides had been through so much over the past few months that, frankly, a few days of this wouldn’t really matter either way. They could take a few days off. They could play at this training for a little while. Still, Aizawa rolled his eyes at the antics. For allowing himself to have these antics go on. “Oh, so this is what everyone’s been doing.” A cheerful voice said from behind him. Aizawa felt the urge to roll his eyes again and barely refrained from doing so. Instead, he turned to look at a bright-eyed and bushy tailed pink-haired teenager that came in from the main entryway. At least she was wearing some of the clothes he had gone to the effort of buying for all of them. “Hi, not-Sensei!” Mei beamed brightly as he blinked at her. She bounced a bit closer; there was some sort of grease or oil stains lining her purple Hello Kitty shirt, but that was par for the course for just about everyone in the support department. “I don’t remember your name.” She did not look the least bit apologetic. “Aizawa.” There; now he could roll his eyes freely. “I assumed you would be busy.” “Oh, I was!” She was every bit as bubbly as Hatsume; he hoped she wasn’t as… Startling in her approach to things. “But I figured –” “Mei!” At least six little kids suddenly yelled at once. Then, they were mobbing her, arms reaching for hugs and chatter overlapping each other in the way only small children could accomplish. “The little brats!” Mei laughed and ruffled a few heads. “Have you been causing havoc?” “Yes!” A few said at the same time. A little girl with some sort of sheep-related quirk was jumping up and down in the small crowd. Mei paused for a moment. Then, she burst in to laughter; it was clearly not the answer she had been expecting. “That’s fantastic!” The love that she had for these young children – and the affection returned – was nauseating. “Mei?” A much more quiet voice came from the side. Shoto, towel over his shoulders, sweating plumes and looking very much in need of a break, stepped off the small cement stage Cementoss had made for the sparring match. “What are you doing here?” Still on the stage, Todoroki didn’t look the least bit tired, but he did look pleased with himself. Maybe now he could actually focus on his own training while Shoto took a breather. Aizawa could only hope. “What, am I not allowed to be here?” Mei didn’t look insulted; she let out a laugh. “Is this a secret super-quirk training club now?” “That’s not what…” Shoto rolled his eyes with an amused smirk. “We all figured you’d be working on the portal.” “I was!” Mei nodded enthusiastically. “But apparently we had to order some parts to be delivered. Hatsume thinks if we have a gel-cooling overlay instead of what’s supposedly a more traditional water-cooling mechanic for the base conductor, it’ll compensate for the variance in the output and then we could potentially have it running with a smaller, more efficient housing.” There was a long beat of silence. Every single pair of eyes aimed at her stared in an entirely mute lack of understanding. Shoto’s eyes looked like they had glossed over at some point. “Which means…” Mei let out a deep, overdramatic sigh. “That I couldn’t really do anything but play around in the lab and I…” She stopped and let out a much more real breath. “What, did you get bored of all the new shiny things?” And there was Katsuki, looking a little burned and bruised. Bakugo leaned against the wall much further away. Curiously, Aizawa had noticed, those two weren’t getting along. It wasn’t quite at the level of needing a conversation, not yet, but it was odd compared to how all the others treated their lookalikes like long lost siblings. “It’s not that…” Mei shifted in place uneasily. “Oh, break time!” Ochaco suddenly appeared; a few of the others from that other world were with her. Each and every one of them looked exhausted. The younger children, seeing new prey, suddenly let out a wild chorus of giggles and shrieks and started to mob them. Ochaco let out a good-natured scream of false terror. Denki took two overly-acted steps before collapsing in a dramatic death throe; three small children immediately pounced on him and the surprised yell of pain that he let out was not false. Momo giggled to the side, but none of the smaller bodies tried to attack her. Mina and Hanta held up their hands as if they were claws; the former grabbed the closest child for a solid tickle attack. “Rawr!” Hanta called to the youngest children around them. “I’m gonna getcha!” Most of the children looked like they were going to take that with good nature; anticipatory smiles went around. One child – the little sheep girl – stopped, stilled, and Aizawa could see what was coming before it actually happened. The little girl immediately burst in to tears. It cascaded; the youngest boys and girls next to her began to cry and wail with her. The older ones stared awkwardly and shuffled away. “…Crap.” Hanta visibly deflated. “Good going.” Mina sighed. She reached her arms out to hug the small sheep girl. She glared daggers at Hanta. “After what we had to tell them about why we ran away from home, you say that?!” “I didn’t mean anything…” Even as Hanta said it, the guilt crept along his face and sported itself plain as day. “Are you all exhausted already?” Aizawa had to force one of his brows up; in reality, he was hoping to distract the conversation away from this unnecessary argument in the making. “We don’t have muscles…!” Ochacho whined, but gladly took the bait. Then, she collapsed on the floor in an overly dramatic fashion. “But we have drinks!” And there was Mezo, walking up with three coolers in half of his arms. “Ishiyama said we could have these.” Oh, that was an even better distraction. Children jumped for the coolers as soon as they were set down, pulling the lids open and tossing cans about. It had been interesting to see them adjust to modern technology and to things that were considered basic objects. The closest situation anyone in the faculty break room had been able to compare it to were the numerous cults broken up over the years with children pulled from oppressive environments. The difference was that these children had no fear from a horrible upbringing; they were boisterous, loud and energetic. Happy, if ignorant. Within a few minutes, a quiet had gone over the many children. Nothing settled young children better than food. “So,” Katsuki said before taking a long swing from a bright green can. His eyes were on Mei. “How long until the portal’s done?” “Kacchan!” Mina yelped. “What?” Katsui gave Mina a thoroughly bored expression. “Just askin’.” “Oh, uhm… At best, a month.” Mei wasn’t looking at anyone directly, gaze instead on some undefinable point on the floor. “It’s kind of weird… Just about everything I used back at the house is supposedly so out of date that they don’t even exist anymore, and I’m still learning how all the stuff they have here works, so finding equivalences is the biggest hurdle. And then the lab people have to order the supplies, which adds time… Who would’ve guessed that no one builds portals to different universes regularly?” Mei let out a small, sad laugh. “So at least a month.” There was a short beat of silence. At least, from this group; there were explosions in the distance and what sounded like Kaminari let out a warbling yell as if he had over-shocked himself but hadn’t expected to. Which, frankly, was absolutely something that could have happened. But, here, there was silence. Frowns and unease. “But you don’t want us to use it.” Shoto frowned. “Guys…” Mina’s warning came softer this time. Mei was still looking at the floor. “I’m still going to build it, but… But we don’t have to go back. It doesn’t have to be us, doesit? We can stay here and there’s… There’s professional heroes whose entire job it is to rescue people…” Aizawa wasn’t entirely certain what he expected as he shadowed these children. An argument, certainly; Bakugo was regularly so on the path of instigating his classmates for good and bad both that he had anticipated an explosion from this Katsuki at the very least. He was surprised when it didn’t come. Instead, Katsuki grimaced, but he twitched, one hand around that soda can clenching it hard enough to make dents. The expression on his face was clear and recognizable as guilt with an unhealthy dose of shame and Aizawa knew, then, what was going on. The fact that the rest of the older children gathered – down to the ten, eight, five-year-olds – had the same look on their faces only cemented it. “She’s right.” Aizawa made an effort not to speak too loudly. Still, all those faces looked up so sharply that he may as well have yelled. “We have Pro Heroes already waiting for this extraction. It’s their job to save whoever they can.” “That whole… Plus Ultra thing, right?” Katsuki let out a snort. “We saw this… Movie, film, whatever you call them, about All Might a couple of days ago.” “All Might’s cool.” The little sheep girl whispered. Some tentative agreements went around the children. “He punches things really hard.” Aizawa couldn’t help feeling a small bit of joy that the first impression of the great-and-powerful All Might to these entirely socially innocent, ignorant children was that he ‘punches things hard’. Not strong nor powerful or even god-like, as had been described so many times before. Just that he punches things. He’d have to tell Toshinori later. “We don’t have to go back.” Mei’s voice came out in a strained whimper. “We did exactly what we set out to do. We got away. We can stay here and… And grow up and… And get jobs and houses and all those things we always wanted to do.” “That’s the problem.” Katsuki snarled at the can in his fist. “We didn’t all get out.” “If Mei finishes the portal thing in a month, then we have time.” Mezo said softly. “At least for most of them.” “Kacchan, we can live here.” Ochaco said with a touch of worry. “For once, it doesn’t have to be our problem or our responsibility…” Oh, this conversation was starting to spiral out of control. Aizawa honestly did not want to be the only adult in the room for this. “Did you know that my students, the versions of you from this universe, went in to a villain hideout to rescue one of their classmates only a few months ago?” That got their attention. All eyes went to him; the younger ones got comfortable for an anticipated story time. “Rescue?” Katsuki squinted suspiciously. “Bakugo was kidnapped, actually.” Aizawa looked at the blonde; there was clear surprise on his face. “It was, honestly, a sh –” Not ‘shitshow’, there were very young children present. “…Shoddy affair. A group of villains had kidnapped Bakugo and a Pro Hero from a training camp trip. There were forty students on that trip, and nearly half came out with injuries.” “What happened…?” That sheep girl was looking up at him with the wide-eyed innocence of youth. She reminded him, vaguely, of 1-B’s Pony Tsunotori; irises that were just a little bit too large and pupils that weren’t quite solid. The little girl wasn’t the only one with her attention so raptly on him; they all were. He hadn’t intended to turn this in to ‘story time for lost orphans’, but here they were. “Bakugo was missing for three days. One of the other students, luckily, had the foresight to place a tracking device on one of the villains. The police had it, and Pro Heroes were well on the trail, but a few of my students still had decided that it was their responsibility to go in for the rescue. Misplaced guilt, I believe, for failing to protect him even though they had all been in the exact same amount of danger and were, frankly, lucky to make it out alive from both the kidnapping and their ill-advised actions.” The expressions on their faces were shifting a little. Good; they were seeing the parallels. “From what I understand,” Aizawa took a deep breath and glanced up at his own students still training on the spires of cement. A few of them were looking down – Midoriya to the left, Yaoyorozu and Kirishima in the distance, and Jiro and Asui even though both of them were still entertaining their counterparts. “The ones that had gone had discussed it with the entire class. Most of them had the good sense not to go. The ones that did had put themselves in jeopardy needlessly and, had it not been for other factors, I would have expelled the entire class for not having the instincts needed to become Pro Heroes.” The lot of them shifted uncomfortably. “He didn’t say a thing about that.” Katsuki looked bothered. “To be fair, if I was kidnapped by bad guys, I wouldn’t wanna talk about it, either.” Mina frowned. “But everybody was okay? Were the bad guys defeated?” The little sheep gasped. Shoto put a hand on her shoulder. “…Yes.” Aizawa did not want to deal with crying children right now; it was the only reason he lied. “Yes, the heroes defeated the villains and now they’re in prison.” It seemed to do the job, at least; the older kids still looked uneasy and bothered, but the younger ones were brightening and chattering amongst themselves. With any luck, it would stop a repeat of that stupid rescue attempt from those months ago. “So…” Katsuki was still staring at him, though. “How’d you get that scar?” Aizawa could feel himself twitching with annoyance; it came with the light pinpricking from the corner of one eye. “What?” “You’re one of those Pro Heroes, right?” Katsuki suddenly had a smirk on his face. “Oh, yeah…” Ochaco was trying very hard not to smile; she was failing. “Uraraka told me your hero name was Eraserhead.” “…Because he erases quirks!” Mezo had apparently just figured that out. “Oh, that’s clever.” “Hey, we’re here, tell us more stories!” Mina was grinning cheekily. These brats knew exactly what they were doing; almost immediately, the youngest children were cooing at him and giving him puppy eyes. Some were actually, audibly begging for ‘more stories’. Oh, for goodness sake. He was not a babysitter. They couldn’t just hound him for juvenile tales of adventure; they had television and the internet for that. They had already figured out how to use at least half of those things. Aizawa stared at the children around him and let out a deeply annoyed sigh. He was never going to hear the end of this. ------------------------------  What Aizawa had not expected – and, in hindsight, what he absolutely should have – was the rest of the student body becoming overly curious about their new residents. Once the furniture had arrived and been set up, the empty dorm where 2-A should have been were left to the children from that other world while the police handled the various legal issues involved. Granted, there had only been 32 empty rooms in the building, but a few bunkbeds had fixed that problem easily enough. After that, there had been the suggestion sent in a campus wide email to let them adjust for a few days. Shockingly, everyone followed that request and had kept their distance. At least, for a couple of weeks. By the end of the third week, 1-B made the formal request to visit them. Which, okay, fine, a class every once in a while should go well; they could mingle in the same way anyone else could and adjust to new people slow and easily. They were still doing something very similar with Eri. If anything, it might even be good for the social acclimation of all of the new children, who were still so very slow to pick up how this world worked. So, Aizawa, feeling only a little bit like this could go horribly wrong, approved Vlad King’s far too polite inter-faculty note. It wasn’t until they arrived at the dorm – twenty nervous and excited faces showing up with all the joy of toddlers going to a petting zoo – that he realized that this was the first time any of the children from the other world would be seeing such a large group of new and unfamiliar faces. Before, it had been one-offs; outside of their own parallel selves and, well, his own face, it had only been a teacher here, a police officer there. But twenty at a time? Once 1-B showed up, the youngest ones all openly gaped as if a spaceship had landed. Then, small children – the teenagers and preteens had the good sense to stay back – were mobbing the Vlad’s students and asking a hundred questions at a time about the quirks, about Pro Heroes, about their favorite colors… Why had he offered to watch over these children, again? Aizawa could already feel this turning in to exactly the type of overly wonderous and happy social situation that he spent most of his life avoiding. After all, Vlad could have easily handled this instead of whatever after-school thing he had ended up involved with. Though, things began to get a little bit sour. Once the sea of little ones had let the twenty teenagers to actually walk through the front door, something unsettling washed over the rest of them. It was as if an electric shock had gone over everyone over the age of ten. They had been waiting in the common room. No one moved from it. Confusion lingered along the new arrivals and little ones alike. Then, Kyoka broke the silence; she did so with a shaky sob before running to the elevator. She chose the stairwell next to it instead; the door closed behind her with a far too loud clang. “…I’m sorry.” Mei was the first to say anything after that, forcing on a smile and holding out a hand to the teenager at the front of 1-B’s pack – Kendo. “We, uh, knew some of you, the other, uh, yous from our world…” “…Oh.” Kendo took the handshake and plastered on a smile of her own. “That’s got to be awkward.” “Knew?” Awase said with a confused frown. “They’re dead now.” One of the ten-year-olds said too bluntly. Well, that stopped all conversation before it started. Aizawa closed his eyes for just a moment; he could feel a headache coming. When he opened his eyes again, he saw Tsuyu, still with a cast on her leg – Recovery Girl had fixed the break days ago, but had insisted that the girl kept the cast on for at least a week more – moving to stand from the couch. Her eyes were aimed at the stairwell in the distance. He held up a hand; it got her attention. The good thing was, she understood what he was silently telling her. She sat back down. Then, Aizawa turned to head up the stairs himself. The rest of those children could watch themselves for a little while. He didn’t bother with the elevator. Truth was, he wasn’t even sure which floor she had run to. Still, it was easy to follow the trail of a teenage girl whose loud sobs echoed through the hallway as soon as he opened the door just a crack. He found her on the third floor. She hadn’t even run far; a shock of purple hair came from a body leaning against the floor-to-ceiling the window overlooking the courtyard, crouched down and hugging her knees in the image of misery. Aizawa didn’t say anything. He didn’t think he needed to; he only made certain that his footsteps were loud enough to be heard in the short walk from the stairs to the fallen form. As expected, Kyoka looked up; her face was not streaked with black and it was only because she wasn’t wearing mascara. He didn’t sit down to join her. Instead, he waited. It took a few minutes of sniffling before Kyoka formed any actual words. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I keep doing this.” Briefly, Aizawa wanted to shake her. Then, he wanted to shake himself for not making sure she got to Hound Dog’s office before this. True, she had only been here a couple of weeks, but she was all but a walking billboard for PTSD. The words from that first interview with the police still hung at the back of his mind; hiding under the truck after finding the corpse of a friend, the monsters crawling overhead. “You’re ‘doing this’ because only one other person has seen what you’ve seen and he’s too stubborn and hardheaded to let himself feel anything other than rage.” For a brief moment, Kyoka stared at him. Then, she jumped up and lunged; her arms wrapped around him in a hug and, suddenly, his shirt and capture weapon were both wet from tears. He hadn’t expected that, actually; Aizawa stood there, one arm awkwardly free and the other in the teenagers’ grip. Slowly, he let his arm rest on her shoulder. She wept. “They all died.” Kyoka let out a particularly harsh sob that forced her entire thin body to tremble. “We thought they were just going away, but they all died.” There was no attempt at ‘there, there’s or ‘it’s going to be okay, now’ or any of the useless words people usually reserved for this kind of thing. The latter was only partially true and the former was meaningless and did nothing to help the issue at hand. Instead, he settled for actual tangible options. “We have a psychologist on school grounds trained for children and Pro Heroes alike. It would help you, I think, to talk to him about what you’ve been through.” Still, Kyoka was hugging him, but her crying was going down from the wretched sobs to a more subdued crying. They stood like that for a little while. Aizawa thought it might have been a solid few minutes before the girl said anything else. “Ochaco and Tsu-chan were right.” Kyoka sniffled. “You’re not like Sensei at all.” That, hopefully, was a compliment. It was a few minutes more before she let go. Kyoka wiped her face on a sleeve; after a few seconds, a more gruff expression crossed her face, likely an attempt to get back to a more ‘normal’ persona. “Thanks. Sorry.” “It’s fine.” Aizawa only frowned a little at his now damp shirt. “I… I think I’m going to go to my room.” Kyoka looked to the floor. “I don’t think I’m in the right space for all the social stuff right now.” Then, she looked at him. “Tomorrow, can you tell me where to find this psychologist guy?” Oh, good. She was actually interested in the offer. “Of course.” A small shudder went through Kyoka’s frame. She took a deep breath. “Thanks.” Then, she turned and walked down the hall. Aizawa waited until she went inside one of the rooms and heard the door slowly close behind her before turning and heading back down the stairs. When he got down there, everything had settled down and smiles were around the room. By some miracle, they were all actually mingling. Children of various ages were, again, asking questions and physically prodding at the arrivals from 1-B. Aizawa crossed the hall in time to see no less than six very small children crowded around Fukidashi and, with the same confusion on all of them, ask in near unison, “What’s a comic book?” He had never seen someone go through the stages of grief so quickly before. Despite having a speech bubble for a head, the sheer expressions that came from it were incredible. Question marks, exclamation points, jagged edges and the brief flash of a horror-stricken emoji came about before finally settling down in to the faint polka-dotted lines of old comic backdrops. The children around him giggled; one actually had the nerve to poke at Fukidashi’s face. Rolling his eyes at that, Aizawa quietly walked through the rest of the room. A few polite nods went in his direction, but everyone else seemed too busy and engaged with each other. It suited him just fine. “You can grow your hands?” Ochaco looked on, amazed, as Kendo’s fists enlarged themselves just a little. “Oh, that’s so neat!” “One of the little kids can do something similar, but with his feet.” Denki laughed. Then, he turned his head. “Hey, Toshiro! Show her the thing!” A little boy – probably around seven or so – looked up from playing some kind of card game Honenuki was showing him and a few other children a short distance away. He let out a loud, “Okay!” before spending a couple of long seconds taking off his shoes. Then, both of his feet enlarged and grew – very similarly to Kendo’s hands – before the boy decided to take a step and immediately tripped and fell on his face. Ochaco let out a yelp and rushed to his side. Denki started laughing. Kendo winced but looked amused. The boy didn’t look hurt, only embarrassed. But there was something else that Aizawa suddenly couldn’t help but notice. Little Toshiro had the same jawline and teal eyes as Kendo did. It could easily have been coincidence. God only knew where these children really came from, how the monsters brought them to the farm they had grown up on. But now that he saw one thing, he began to notice others. Tsunotori and Shishida were off to the side, talking to a few small children that each had some sort of animal quirk or extra appendage. One had horns, a common enough feature, another had claws, and then there was the little sheep girl. Seeing her next to Tsunotori was startling; the same eyes, horns in the same placement, and the same long, wavy hair. The colors were the only difference and likely why no one else had noticed – the sheep girl had a far more pale complexion underneath jet black hair, her eyes were a bold baby blue and her horns curled backwards – but the similarities were too striking to ignore. Then, he saw one of the one-year-olds – the youngest hadn’t come in any younger than that – in Momo’s arms. The baby’s hair was a deep reddish hue, but as he quietly moved closer, he could see the little sparks of white at the tips of the little boys’ red. He did not like where these suspicions were taking him. Then, a scream went through the air; a child’s wail. Everyone in the room stiffened at once and turned in the direction of where it came; the door to the courtyard was open. “Hey, uh…!” And there was Mina, rushing from deeper in the courtyard to the door. “So I think Manami’s quirk just came in?” A blanket of relief went over everyone present. Still, the girl was crying and screaming from beyond the open glass door. Aizawa headed for the courtyard. There were generally three types of ways quirks came in. The least common was when someone was simply born with it; outside of quirk factors and the physical type, this was almost unheard of. After that, the most common sort, was when a quirk came in slowly and came akin to teething; it made children irritable and caused mild discomfort for months at a time. Then, somewhere in the middle, seemed to be how this little girl’s quirk decided to present itself. The small, pale raven-haired girl had her arms around Hanta’s neck and was wailing as loud as a four-year-old could yell. The back of her legs were thankfully unobstructed under a little skirt, which was a small blessing considering something was trying to squirm itself out of the entire backside of them. Several onlookers – a mix of 1-B and the orphans – were wincing in sympathy but no one tried to help. Really, there was nothing they could do; sudden quirk eruptions were just a thing that happened, sometimes. Aizawa moved to dislodge her from Hanta’s arms. “I’ll take her to the school nurse. She’ll probably be fine in a few hours.” “And with her quirk…!” Hanta nervously grinned. He did ruffle the crying girls’ hair as he handed her over, though. “Manami, you’re getting your quirk! Aren’t you excited?!” The little girl let out an angry-sounding wail before smacking Hanta with a plush bear she held in one tiny hand. A couple of the onlookers laughed. Aizawa rolled his eyes for what felt like the millionth time and started to head off. While carrying the girl out the front door, he managed to send a quick text from his phone to warn Recovery Girl of the incoming patient. Though, he doubted she could so much more than make the pain a little more bearable and maybe give her some chocolate. There was, however, an ulterior motive for this. Aizawa let the girl wrap her arms around her neck and carry her with one arm under her rear; it was the best way to keep anything from touching the back of her legs. Flesh quaked and squirmed and would probably soon bleed; he’s heard of messy cases before and a little blood was not unheard of. But he wanted to see exactly what came out. Right now, the ring-like protrusions poking red hot from beneath her skin were looking far too much like the exhaust pipes from an engine. Holding the girl this close, her dark hair now looked a little bit too much like dark blue instead of the solid black he previously mistook it for. Ultimately, he knew that it did not matter; these children came from another universe. Even if his suspicions were on the mark and the genetic ties were there, they didn’t come from this world or from the people living on it. But that didn’t mean that the children from that other world didn’t have a right to know. ------------------------------  A few hours later and Aizawa was finally back in his on-campus apartment. It was nearly midnight. The gettogether between 1-B and the other children had gone off, as far as everyone knew, without anything major happening. One little girl got her quirk and that caused even more celebration, even if it did come in quite dramatically. He had already left a message with the local police department to request access to their DNA database. It held only the DNA of Pro Heroes and their associates, but it would be enough to compare. He’d know if he would be allowed access or not probably within a few days; especially with the weekend coming up. Aizawa allowed himself to sleep. He was woken up far too early for a Saturday; at six in the morning, barely after the sun was up, his phone let out a loud, horrid screaming chime. It was not his usual alarm. It did the job; Aizawa was up instantly and checked the notice. Another portal had opened in the courtyard.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

A new portal had been opened and Aizawa knew that, unless something especially spectacular had happened, this was not another escape attempt. Those in charge of things on the other side would have been prepared for this sort of thing by now. From his on-campus apartment at U.A. to the courtyard by the dorms, it would take him roughly a minute and a half to get where he needed to go. When that first portal had opened only a few weeks ago, he had been slightly closer – a forty-five second dash – and, even then, it had erupted in to absolute chaos before he had been able to prepare himself. In that minute and a half, a great deal more could happen. Not the least of which were heroics students trying to get there first. They had, after all, gotten a similar alert on their phones. Theirs, he knew, said to stay indoors and away from the area in question; how many of their students would actually do as told? A minute and a half. Using his own capture weapon to propel him once in a while – which was not something it was designed for – Aizawa managed to get it down to a minute and thirteen seconds. By the time he got there, several other members of the faculty were already waiting. Vlad King, Midnight and Present Mic. As per very recently implanted protocol, Thirteen and Snipe would have gone to the dorm with the orphans from the other universe to at least distract the younger ones. Ectoplasm would be acting security in the ‘safe room’ that students could run to in case of emergencies. Cementoss should have been here on the field as well, but it was common knowledge that he slept like a brick. ‘Already waiting’ ended up proving more apt than it should have been. There was a portal hovering exactly where the first one had been, but it was markedly different; it was a tiny thing, hardly big enough to stick a hand through, shimmering as if it were made of water. The perfect circle shape seemed to struggle, wiggling as if it were alive, stretched as wide as a man’s torso, and then abruptly shrunk back to the too tiny form. Unstable; weak. Under other circumstance, Aizawa might have thought that whoever was on the other side simply couldn’t get the portal to go as large as they wanted; new technology or an experiment. Had it been a student from the support division, they likely would have gotten a middling grade. Knowing what he knew now and trying to get a view through the porthole through dimensions as it widened – so very different from Mei’s, with a near-perfect view of the other side instead of the nauseating, epileptic swirling mass of colors – he had seen someone. He had seen a very familiar someone; a man with his own face. Aizawa had only been able to see that face with how quickly the portal had opened and closed, but that had been his ‘evil’ alternate self. That other person had hair cut short and had been holding a device in his hands. “Shota…” Mic said with an unsure whimper; he had seen it, too. No one else said anything, but a quick glance showed that they were in a defensive position. Another glance up showed that the nearby dorms – 1-A, 1-B, 1-C, 1-D, essentially all the first years – had people at the windows, alarmed and confused faces, and more than a few first-year heroics students already getting their hero costumes on. Shit. It was going to be exactly like the last time, wasn’t it? All of their stupid children were going to rush in to the field and put themselves in danger for absolutely no good reason. What had the alert system even been for if all it did was get students to do exactly the opposite of what it told them? Not having that alert would have let all of these kids sleep through this. At least it would have kept them out of the way. The portal quivered again. It stretched, turned in to a perfect square, and then shrunk back again. It was a horribly slow few seconds later when it again made an attempt to widen itself. It became oval-esque, but when it enlarged this time, it kept shape. As it grew, the view on the other side came with it. At first, the gray shape to the side was mistaken for a machine or a piece of a wall. The wider the portal got, the more of a tall, mottled body it revealed. Hizashi let out a noise that sounded like he wanted to say a thousand different things at the same time but his brain couldn’t quite get it to sound coherent; it came out, instead, in a slightly garbled, nervous sort of gibberish. Which, when that thing appeared – tall and gangly, horrifically long claws on two muscle-coated arms, two large eyes set vertical on a face that was anything but human, almost exactly what Katsuki had described on that first interview save for a black cloth cowl that reminded Aizawa, barely, of a nun’s habit – was quite possibly the most appropriate reaction that anyone could give. The issue was that they were Pro Heroes. School staff or not, they had all once fought villains – quite recently, for himself – that had monstrous, crazed appearances. Men grew to ten times normal size to snatch a purse; women physically straddled traffic and wore vehicles like shoes. Claws and fangs and strange bits and pieces to this extent did not have the same effect it would have on innocent, sheltered children raised for the slaughter. Aizawa tensed for a battle of some sort. He felt, without even looking, those nearby doing the same thing. When that creature stepped through the now seemingly stable portal, talons on its feet leaving grooves in the dirt and grass, he anticipated that thing to lunge at them. Faces in the nearby windows – possibly now seeing the so-called ‘demon’ for the first time as it came through – looked on in horror. Lights in stairwells turned on. What he did not expect was for the demon to stand there – nearly three times the height of Vlad alone – take a slow, languid look to the sky and speak. “Ah. The walls here are even larger than what we have built. Impressive.” The deep, slightly accented voice had an odd echo to it. What? That other version of himself did not follow the demon. Instead, it stood calmly on the other side.Aizawa understood, now, what the orphans had meant by how the smile their sensei bore had become creepy; he had it now, a calm, seemingly peaceful expression that he knew he himself had never donned under any situation. The man with his face had short hair neatly combed back, wore a simple vest and button shirt that somehow looked Victorian and reminded Aizawa of old-fashioned butlers, and stared directly at him.The sensei of that other world – that had sent who knows how many kids to die – looked quietly and calmly to the other Pro Heroes standing nearby. His expression strained slightly when he must have noticed the lot of them; eyes widening just a fraction and that peaceful smile turning in to a thin line. Then, he took a deep breath, one hand briefly moving to his chest as he exhaled, and the calm, too content smile came back.All of that happened within a couple of seconds.The demon standing there then looked down at them. It did so in two motions; those eyes lurched nauseatingly down in their direction in a single startling motion before the head it was attached to followed suit. It somehow, miraculously, did not look ready to attack them. “I apologize for the early arrival, but we had hoped to do so while the children were still asleep. This area is larger than I had thought it would be. Is this a mid-grade farm?”Farm? This demon thought that this was a farm similar to the ones on that other world?With Ojiro taken to that other universe and the horrors that the orphans had told them, he had assumed – the faculty and police together had discussed this, in fact – that the captured teenager would be interrogated. They had run with the assumption that everything about their world would be known, that a 16-year-old boy, heroics student or not, would break.Had Ojiro figured out how this other world ran, somehow, and had been smart enough to tell them what they wanted to hear? That there were supposedly demons, here, too, that everything was nearly the same?If he had, it was the absolute best thing he could have done. That boy might have saved the entire planet in doing so, by convincing them that their home wasn’t a world worth invading.“We’re an elite institution.” Vlad said warily, but it seemed that the rest of them had gone through the same thought process.Movement caught the corner of Aizawa’s eye.Beyond the portal, the other version of himself had moved one hand. Two fingers stretched out, held close together, and repeatedly bent; it looked like a reverse ‘come here’ motion. Behind him, peeking out from what might have been a stairwell, came slow, quiet bodies sneaking along. Each and every one of them were small.
The children?
At first, he thought there were only five of them. Ojiro and his other self were both notably missing. Then, he noticed the tallest, oldest – the girl, he remembered, the one with the long pale blue pigtails – carried two babies in her arms.Their sensei was still smiling, but he was staring right back at him. He was keeping eye contact, not looking back to the slowly approaching children, and there was something intense about his gaze.What was happening here?“An elite institution?” The demon above him repeated with obvious surprise. “Truly? Then I suppose that we’re open for negotiation.”“What?” Hizashi still sounded stunned.The demon’s eyes actually rolled, but each of them went in a different direction. “Your farm now possesses quite a few of our high-grade stock. We have… One of yours.” It shifted in place; talons dug deeper in to the ground. “I admit, my superiors doubted you’d be willing to trade more than fifty for one, but we could perhaps come to some other –”Then, in the blink of an eye, the other version of himself dropped his hand to his side. It had been a signal; just like that, five children with obvious looks of terror rushed through from the other side. Two boys who couldn’t have been more than ten years old dragged along a toddler each and Aizawa recognized one of the tiny bodies as that boy with the pacifier that had run back during that first escape that had barely been a few weeks ago.“—What?” The demon had clearly not been prepared for this. It blinked down at the children as they ran right by him. “What in –”Then, white capture tape flared from the portal. It grabbed for the demon and pulled.Well, this wasn’t the fight that he had been anticipating, but here it was all the same. Aizawa didn’t have time to figure out motivation right now, but what he could do was use his own capture tape to try and help; gray mixed with white.“Traitor!” The demon shrieked; claws stretched, but not at them; it tried to slash at the man on the other side. The other version of himself managed to dodge to the side, but the smile was gone now and replaced with an expression that looked so much more real; grim determination.Blocks of blood suddenly appeared around the demon’s feet and legs. From the corner of his eye, Aizawa could see Midnight move in to a better position to the side, but she wouldn’t be able to use her sleeping gas from here without risking putting them all under, not with how tall that demon was and the slight wind in the air. Assuming, of course, it would even work on an alien from another universe. Hizashi, as he should, had already made his way to these new children and were leading them further away.The demon let out a guttural, echoing shriek of rage. It sounded as if it were coming from every direction at once. Then, something dark and seemingly intangible flared from around it’s shoulders and back. At first, Aizawa thought it looked familiar but couldn’t quite pinpoint how or why, but then it flared and grew a head-shaped mound of its own, with two gleaming red eyes set in the same vertical shape as the demon. A new voice roared from this second head before Aizawa recognized it.That was Dark Shadow. Or, at least, a Dark Shadow, something very, very similar to it. These demons had quirks of their own?! But, wait, hadn’t they said that their version of Tokoyami had –Oh. The demons had eaten him, the demons had and now this…?“You have to be kidding me.” Aizawa murmured to himself.The demons’ Dark Shadow sputtered down; new red eyes gleamed, but Aizawa saw it in his other self as threads of short hair flared up. The demons’ quirk could be cancelled just the same as anyone else, it seemed. Claws reached for the man on the other end of the portal; grey tape wrapped around a large gray arm and pulled back, but it seemed impossible to bring this monster down by physical means.They were at a stalemate. The demon realized it, as well; claws grabbed at white tape – only the white tape, Aizawa couldn’t help but note – and then pulled. The man wearing his face was flung through the air with a startled yelp; those eyes identical to his own, for a moment, looked terrified.That other version of him came flying through. Aizawa tried to pull his own arms back, thinking that the demon intended to pierce him with his talons mid-air, but there was no movement to do so. Instead, the man fell on to the soft grass.He didn’t get back up.The portal suddenly shrunk and closed.Aizawa chanced a glance to the fallen form and couldn’t figure out why the other version of himself was still on the ground. Something had happened that he hadn’t seen, somehow, something had gone wrong.Vlad let out an audible gasp. He dove forward, picked up the body, and ran. He headed for the main building for, what, exactly? Recovery Girl? Vlad’s blood ability often let him ‘feel’ things in other people that the naked eye couldn’t see. What had happened?!“Liars!” The demon shrieked as if it had been wronged. “All of you!” It’s version of Dark Shadow reared itself again, translucent purple claws flaring in the air.Aizawa didn’t have time to use his own quirk; fire came through the air before he could use his cancel.At first, he had thought that it was his own students, Bakugo or Todoroki; their dorm, after all, was right there and there had already been signs that students were getting ready for a brawl. He was, technically, half right; the flame-wielding body that came from the side bore the white-and-red mix in his hair, but the black line of numbers on his neck told the world who he was.The demon and its quirk alike both shrieked under the plume of fire, but that version of Dark Shadow immediately shrank. Aizawa pulled, again, at his capture tape; by some miracle, it finally brought the demon down to the ground. One arm swung blindly; it caught Shoto and threw him aside. The boy didn’t let out a sound.A new scream came through the air; all Aizawa saw was someone fairly small and dressed in pink and black leaping through the air and landing on the demon. He barely had time to digest the purple hair, the numbers on that neck, or the long earlobes or to do anything about it before Kyoka swung a kitchen knife in to those two giant vertical eyes.She was screaming, but it wasn’t only noise. Words came with every stab of the blade. Not all of it made sense. “You ate him! You killed him! You took them all and you ate them! Where are our parents?! What did you do with so many?! Where are my parents?!"The demon let out a guttural, choking wail. Long, claw-tipped arms flailed as if reaching for something much bigger than the young girl that was stabbing at its’ face. Suddenly, with a sudden lurch of its’ entire body, there was a convulsive shudder; it dropped its’ arms to the grass. It did not move again.Kyoka was still stabbing it. Blood soaked the ground – thankfully still red, at least that thing bled red – and it was now starting to cover the girl wielding the knife with the gore and viscera.“Holy shit.” Someone said a little too loudly; Aizawa turned to stare at the crowd of orphans who stood there. It had been a shocked-looking Katsuki that had said it. Only the older ones of that batch were there, but hadn’t it been Thirteen and Snipe who were supposed to watch them, and two Pro Heroes couldn’t keep these kids in line!?Later. There’d have to be a discussion later. Right now, Aizawa slowly approached Kyoka from the side. She was still stabbing the corpse. “Kyoka. It’s dead. The demon’s dead.”It was as if she didn’t hear him. The yelling had stopped, but she was loudly sobbing now as she continued to plunge that blade in to the body.“Kyoka…” Aizawa grabbed her from behind, his own hands wrapping around her wrists. She finally stopped; the bloody knife fell with a clang against whatever it was the flesh of the demon was made of. Then, Kyoka fell back against him, sobs dying down to silent tears.“Please tell me Hound Dog is in his office.” Aizawa aimed at no one in particular as he gently picked up Kyoka in his arms.“…He should be.” Midnight responded softly.“Good.” Aizawa took a deep breath. “I’d appreciate it if you got the rest of these kids back to their dorm.” He aimed a sharp look at the lot of stunned orphans. “Take the new ones with you. Mic, make sure no one else gets any funny ideas about what to do with this body and get the police in here.”---------------------  If it hadn’t been for Vlad, Aizawa learned, then that other version of himself would have died before he had ever gotten to Recovery Girl. If it hadn’t been for Recovery Girl, then he would have been entirely, thoroughly lost. There had been no call to an ambulance; there simply would not have been the time. Instead, and he still had no idea how U.A. had pulled the strings that they had, the hospital staff had come to them. One of the school’s clinics had been turned in to an on-campus operating room. “Barbarians!” Recovery Girl complained once she was with the rest of them, but Aizawa could see the faint horror in her eyes. “He had an implant on his heart!” “I assume not for medical reasons.” Nezu was there, of course. So were the police. Detective Tsukauchi frowned deeply. “What kind of implant?” “I felt it as soon as it went off.” Vlad King snarled. “As soon as he came through the portal, an electric shock went off. That thing was intended to kill him.” “The demon knew it was there.” Aizawa frowned. “It purposefully made sure to put him where it would trigger.” “…Where there’s no signal to stop it from going off.” Nezu let out a deep, disgusted breath. “Well, that answers how these so-called demons keep the adults under control.” “He’s expected to make a full recovery, by the way.” Recovery Girl said with a small breath. “But he’s going to need time to recover from a heart transplant, as anyone would.” She paused. “He should wake up soon enough to answer your questions, Detective.” They didn’t have particularly long to wait. It was less than an hour later when the doctors that had rushed there from the closest hospital gave them the all-clear. Technically, Aizawa shouldn’t have even been in the room. With a patient recovering from something this intense and answering questions from the police, the fewer people in the room that there were was for the better. Still, there had been the suggestion that maybe, somehow, getting asked the questions from, well, himself would make things easier. Aizawa didn’t quite see the logic in that, but he didn’t argue. Truth was, he wanted to hear it for himself as well. The man with his face lay on the gurney beneath the large window with an expression that was nothing short of shocked. He barely blinked, eyes aimed at the glass above him. By now, it was midday, and it was a clear and sunny day outside. His movements were slow; if it were the drugs likely coursing through him or some psychological break that caused it wasn’t clear. Frankly, it could have been both; he had, after all, almost died coming in to a parallel dimension, it would be a lot for anyone to take. Slowly, the other version of himself looked right at him. By how slow he was blinking now, the drugs were absolutely doing something. “I thought I saw Hizashi. Is he alive?” Aizawa frowned but saw no reason to lie or to push it off until later. “He is. He teaches here.” A broad, but shaky smile crossed his counterpart’s face. Then, despite that his eyes were glazed ever so slightly from medication, tears began to slow. “I’m glad. He got to live somewhere.” A pause; the smile waned a little. “Is your name Shota too?” That voice sounded far off, distant, and was slurring quite a bit. Detective Tsukauchi let out a soft, annoyed breath. Still, he had that notebook and pen out, so, drugged or not, they were going to ask more questions. “It is.” Aizawa gave his counterpart a small nod. “But we tend to go by family names, here. I’m Aizawa Shota.” “The boy that looked like Mashirao did tell me about that.” A small, sad smile crossed his face. “That his name was Ojiro Mashirao.” Past tense. Well, that wasn’t a good sign. Aizawa took a deep breath and asked the most important question. “Are those boys dead?” Truth was, he was prepared for a solid ‘yes’. Aizawa was already going through the speech he’d have to tell the rest of his students, that Ojiro was, in fact, dead and sometimes that was a thing that was going to happen in hero work and, sorry, children, you’ll still have to have final exams in a month. Hell, even knowing he likely would never have to talk to the boys’ parents, he was starting to put together what he’d have to say to them about why their son was never coming home. So sorry, a portal from another dimension opened up, and demons ate your child. We’re very sorry and working on making sure this never happens again. What the hell were the police going to tell them? The media, if they ever found out, were going to have a field day. The voice that answered him came in nearly a whisper. “No.” Aizawa shared a shocked glance with the detective before looking back. “Ojiro is still alive? Both of them?” The man with his face gave a slow nod. Then, words slow and still slurred, what exactly happened came out with the cadence of someone very, very far away. -------------------  It had been a learning curve for everyone else involved. As soon as two people with the same face had been pulled through that portal – one bleeding, the other in a strange green and gray uniform – Shota had known that he had made a mistake.
Later, he’d try to rationalize it to himself. He had known the children were escaping, but that they were going somewhere outside the farm. That their tracking devices would still work, that the demons in charge would find them and then he’d have to pay the price. That, if he had known just how very far away these children had gone, he would never have tried to bring them back. That was why he had stopped as soon as he saw two Mashirao’s, hadn’t it? But Shota knew, even with every new justification, that it was a lie. He had lived this life for too long for it to be any other way; he would have gone after those children no matter what.

But then that laser had come through – Yuga’s probably, that boy had been getting better with his aim – and destroyed the chance to send the children back to that other land. They were now all stuck here, once the smoke had cleared.

The bullet, it wound up, had only grazed Mashirao’s arm. All it needed was a quick bandage. Then, he had left he children to their own devices, locked in the main bedroom, as he called in the incident. He had to. He couldn’t exactly hide this, now, they were coming to pick up a shipment tonight either way. But then he had been given his new orders and then there was no way that he could disobey.

But the least that he could do was to warn them. They had already figured out the big secret, they already knew what was going on. Shota didn’t even try to smile when he finally let the angry children out and led them to the dining room. No more more masks; no more lies. The toddlers stayed in the bedroom, playing obliviously with some toys, but that left the five that remained.

Erika looked like she had been crying for a very long time. Even at the table, she sniffled beneath pale blue bangs. Haru and Yamato – nine and ten years old – both seemed so much older than their years. They looked nervous, but they each glared with the same ferocity as the two identical Mashiraos sitting across from each other.

“My superiors are giving us a day.” Shota hadn’t bothered to hide anything. What was the point, now? “They’ll come tomorrow night for the two of you.”

Both of the Mashiraos glanced at each other. Their expressions didn’t change; they had already had a discussion, most likely, and already suspected as much.

“What about us?” Little Haru asked with all the anger of a child.

“As far as I’m aware, you could still have years.” Shota had to force the usual mask to not slip back on. “They didn’t request the rest of you, yet.” He looked back to the two blond boys, each with a tail swinging uneasily behind them; they had identical mannerisms. “They will probably kill all three of us. You both in place of Katsuki, and myself for failing to stop the escape. A new Sensei will likely be with them to take my place.”

A loud sob escaped from Erika, but no one else made a sound.

Shota couldn’t entirely remember how the rest of that day had gone; it faded, now, in partial pieces and snippets.

The next time he even spoke to them that he could solidly remember was the following day. By then, seemingly, when they all woke up at the usual time, they had all accepted the situation for what it was. Mealtimes had become completely silent affairs, as if they were already mourning those that weren’t quite yet dead.

But he knew that they were talking to each other. Somewhere along the way, the other Mashirao – who said calling him by his family name would make things less confusion, had introduced them to the very concept of being referred to by such a thing – had told them bits and pieces about their world. About the Hero Society, the great cities with millions of freely living human beings in them, about how people with great and powerful quirks protected those who couldn’t protect themselves.

By the time the daily testing was done – and Ojiro had decided to participate despite not having to – Shota had cobbled together a plan. It was a stupid plan, of course, even he knew that, but it might have a shot at delaying the inevitable.

He had discussed it only with Mashirao and Ojiro. They had looked nervous, but they had agreed. They all had absolutely nothing to lose at this point.

“So we’re going to lie to them.” Ojiro seemed far more interested in the idea than his lookalike. He remembered the look on his face, the gleam in his eyes. “We’re going to tell them that I came from one of these farms, too, so they’d be less interested in an invasion.”

“They’d figure it out, sooner or later.” Mashirao frowned. “But it’d give your friends time.”

“Better than nothing.” Ojiro had let out a deep, sad sigh.

Then, after dinner came and went, it was time. They didn’t have two ‘going away’ outfits, what every child wore on ‘adoption day’, and the deception no longer in place anyway. They had decided not to bother. Instead, each boy had chosen to wear what they had; the white uniform for one, the school uniform from a place none of them could reach for the other.

The three other children aware of what was going on had wept and hugged the two boys. They had done so even though they barely knew one of them. Deep inside, Shota had felt a bit of pride.

The long walk to the gate felt unusually cruel. Shota hadn’t been able to pinpoint if it was because he knew he was now walking to his own death, or by the absolute silence of the two teenagers trailing behind him. Usually, the ignorant children he took to the gate would be yapping away in excitement, going on about all the things that they were going to do in their new homes. Very, very few had been death knell quiet like this.

As was expected, the gate was open. The truck permanently parked and was, in reality, a prop that had never moved from that spot, stood in place. The gate, as anticipated, closed behind them.

A demon stepped out of the shadows. Tall, pale and with a single eye beneath two small horns. Shota had seen dozens of them over the years and he no longer felt anything by their bodies alone. The same couldn’t be said of the two boys at either side of him.

Mashirao had begun to shake. He looked up with wide, terrified eyes and let out a soft but pitched, “Oh…!”

Ojiro, on the other hand, was staring at the demon with suspicion. His tail swung almost lazily behind him – compared to the other one, whose tail was rigid still and almost comically pointed. Ojiro was somehow, someway, not afraid. At least, for a few seconds; then, it seemed that he remembered to put on the mask, to pretend to be frightened, but his tail gave away too much.

That was when Shota knew that something was wrong.

Another figure came from the shadows. This one was not a demon; instead, a very familiar man, tall and fit, with bright blonde hair in waves framed gleaming blue eyes and a warm, gentle smile.

Oh. Oh, no. He had forgotten all about that. He had forgotten…

Shota gulped down the sudden terror.

Both of the boys had noticed the new figure. Ojiro reeled back, physically startled. “All Might?”

There was a small pause as the new figure stopped in place. Then, the blonde man let out a happy laugh. “All Might? My, that has a ring to it. Like the All Mighty… Ah, yes, I can understand why I would call myself that. My, my…” He took slow, seemingly calm steps forward. “But this is an interesting situation, isn’t it?”

No one said or did anything for a few seconds. Slowly, Shota had to force the small nod of greeting. “Hello, Grandfather. I’m afraid I’ve rather forgotten there would be chance you’d be here.”

Both of the boys shared purely identical baffled expressions.

Grandfather – and if he had ever had any other name, Shota didn’t know it, though he knew he had once been a sensei himself – continued his languid pace towards them with his hands behind his back. Both of the boys took a step back, but neither made a move to run. Where would they have even gone if they had? Grandfather stopped in front of the boys and reached one hand out to grab Ojiro’s face.

Ojiro looked as if he was staring at the risen dead, but didn’t flinch or move away. If anything, he might have been in shock as that hand took hold of his chin and forced his head to the side.

“No numbers?” Grandfather mused aloud. “Curious. I wonder how they keep track of you, then.”

“Could be any number of ways.” The demon above finally spoke; it had the voice of a woman. “In our early years, we tried many different methods but stopped once we found something that was efficient. They could have done the same thing.”

“Fair enough, I suppose.” Grandfather let go of the boys’ face and took a few steps back. He rested his hands behind his back again. “Where did you come from, my boy?”

A small shudder went through both Mashirao and Ojiro; the former looked to the latter. Ojiro audibly gulped. “A school…”

For a moment, Shota was afraid that he had forgotten the plan.

“A school?” Grandfather raised a brow. “Did you ever leave?”

“Leave?” An expression of confusion crossed Ojiro’s face; he glanced to the demon standing above them and then looked back to the man asking the questions. “There’s… Different buildings, but not outside the walls…”

Oh, he was good. Ojiro was sticking to the plan and despite that he must have been absolutely terrified, he was acting so natural. What kind of ‘hero training’ did this boy go through that he could act so perfectly well?

“Walls?” Now, Grandfather was smiling again. “And you never went outside of the walls?”

“No, it’s… It’s dangerous.” Ojiro somehow managed to sound faint. Shota was honestly in a bit of awe.

“And how long did people stay at this school?” The questions came with all the friendliness of a natural conversation.

“Why does this even matter…?” How in the world did Ojiro make his voice trail off like that? Like he was so thoroughly lost and confused? “I mean… People eventually graduated…”

“And then?”

“They were… Graduated.” Ojiro sounded confused again. “They were gone.”

“Fantastic.” Grandfather beamed widely. Then, he looked to Shota.

Here it came. Shota braced himself to be read the litany of his crimes and to have punishment dispersed. The demon was right there, after all; he wondered which of them would be killed first and if his body would be used for the feed.

“Curiously, Shota, did he take the usual assessment test?”

“What?” It came from Ojiro so suddenly that it sounded real.

“He did.” Shota gulped but didn’t dare break eye contact.

“What did he score?” Grandfather was smiling pleasantly, but there was something predatory at the edges.

“All of the children scored lower than usual.” The words had to be forced out; the memory felt cloudy at the edges. “Both of them scored between 255 and 265.”

“Which one scored higher?”

Once the question came, both boys turned to look at him; Ojiro looked startled while Mashirao looked thoroughly betrayed.

“The other one.” Shota couldn’t remember why he had phrased it like that, only that it made the most sense at the time.

“Hmm. Curious.” Grandfather gave both of the boys an appraising stare before looking right back at him. “I have to admit, when you first reported this whole story about a portal and your children running in to a different universe, we were all incredibly skeptical.” That smile waned just a bit, but he still looked amused. “But with this proof, I can’t dare deny it. None of your children had a cloning quirk. So, I’m delighted to tell you, Caretaker Shota, that you’ll have to resign yourself to overseeing children for quite a few more years.”

What?

Shota stared with an absolute lack of understanding. For a moment, the world whitened out. When he was able to form words next, they came out sputtered. “I’m not going to die?”

“Oh, don’t be mistaken, Shota.” Grandfather chuckled. “Under any other circumstance, you would be. Children trying to escape is something every sensei should be prepared for. Failing to stop an attempt that should be anticipated is, of course, something that cannot be tolerated. But this? A portal to another universe? How could anyone anticipate that? No, my boy, we’ve decided that you can be forgiven for not expecting a super genius of a child to break reality itself. And, frankly, I was impressed that you managed to stop some at all and even to take in someone from that other world as proof.”

Shota could barely breath. He wasn’t going to die. He wasn’t going to die.

“And us?” It came, haggard, from Mashirao.

“Well, that actually depends on you.” Grandfather looked, again, to the two teenagers. “I have something of a proposal for you boys. New farms are being constructed all the time, and others have their own caretakers replaced on occasion. We are in need of young, fresh men and women to fill those roles. So, the decision is yours individually, to come with me to a training facility… A school…” He chortled, then, finding the irony. “Where you will be prepared for the role or, well, you can become a happy dinner time feast.”

“Both of them?” Shota remembered that he had, in fact, nominated Mashirao alone months ago for the position, but he had forgotten that he had done it at all after a giant portal had opened up in the basement.

“To be fair,” Grandfather let off an amused shrug. “I’m quite curious to see how these two identical but likely very different boys act under certain environments. A grand experiment, if you will. We’ve only ever once had twins nominated, but this is all different sorts of intriguing.”

The boys shared a glance. The fear and unease on them both were not acted.

It wasn’t as if either of them had a choice.
 --------------------------- “They’re both alive?” Tsukauchi sputtered. “In this training facility?” “Probably, yes.” Shota didn’t turn to look at the detective. “Usually, training takes five years. I finished mine in two.” A pause. “Unless there are any ‘special exams’, they should both still be alive and… Alive.” Not ‘alive and well’, but this was probably as good as they were going to get. “Do you know where this training facility is?” Aizawa asked the question himself; the face so similar to his own was looking at him, at any rate. There came a pause. Shota’s eyes closed slowly. “No. When I finished my own training, the vehicle’s windows were black. All I know is the basic layout of the nearest farms next to mine and where the closest processing facility is.” “Processing facility?” Tsukauchi asked even though they all knew the answer. “For the meat.” Shota let out a breath. “The higher-grade children are personally carved and cooked for feasts and festivals. The lower-grade ones, as far as I am aware, have their bodies sent to facilities.” A pause. When he spoke again, he sounded distant. “I think they needed Fumikage for a promotion party.” Well, great. That was horrifying. It was all also almost useless; they were both alive but held in a mysterious facility in a mysterious location in another universe with absolutely no way to get there or to even find it. Fantastic. But wait, hadn’t one of the children mentioned something a few weeks ago…? “Thank you.” Tsukauchi said with a disturbed look on his face. “We’ll let you rest, but if you think…” “Wait.” Aizawa held up a hand. It was bothering him, now. “Did the children staying at your… Farm…” Oh, he hated calling it what it was. “…Have tracking devices implanted?” Shota blinked slowly. Once, twice. Then, his eyes gleamed as he looked at him. “Yes. Yes, my pocket watch. It should be in my pocket…” He shifted on the bed. “Why am I wearing different clothes…?” “We saved your clothing.” Tsukauchi said with a bit more enthusiasm. The detective had caught on to Aizawa’s idea. “Don’t worry. We’ll let you rest now.” “Okay.” Still, Shota sounded like he was far too deep in drugged-up happy land to really understand. “Okay.” Then, both Aizawa and Tsukauchi left the small makeshift recovery room with the fragments of a plan.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Aizawa knew that if he didn’t stop the gossip pool from starting now, it would become a hurricane with absolutely no hope to keep from spiraling out of control. Teenagers tended to exaggerate even the tiniest details about the mundane; with actual important information, it was akin to throwing raw meat to a den of hungry wolves and expecting them to be polite about it.The rest of the faculty had to deal with the fallout with the majority of the student body. By now, late in the afternoon, everyone must have heard through the grapevine what had happened. Hell, half the planet; if even one student posted anything on social media, that was it. His job, for now, was to handle his class and to at least help with the orphans from the other universe. Aizawa was less concerned with them, though; none of them had cellphones or access to the internet.When he got to 1-A’s dorm to find it silent and dark, there was only a brief moment of surprise. It took a total of two seconds for the deep annoyance to settle in to his bones before Aizawa went where he should have gone in the first place.Of course. Where else would those idiot children have gone?Compared to the stone silence of 1-A, the noise coming from 2-A’s dorm – where the orphans currently lived – was a cacophony. Even before he opened the doors, he could hear it; no one was laughing or shouting, but so many people in a single space were more than enough to make a clatter.Aizawa was surprised, however, by just how many people there were crammed in to the lobby. For a moment, his eyes roamed the open floor plan, taking stock of who was here and trying to figure out why.Just about every child from that other universe, including the new arrivals, were there; even the little ones were keeping quiet in little packs on the floor. That was hardly surprising, they lived here now. Every one of his remaining students from 1-A were here with them, too, most of them keeping a little too close to their alternate selves. This, too, was expected at this point.But why in the world were all of 1-B here? Had they gotten that close to the alternate-universe-refugees in that short amount of time? Why were several from 1-C milling about? And Aizawa could spot half of the support department with both of the Mei’s clustered around the couches, which, okay, he probably should have expected that, and, okay, fine, Shinso with his usual pack had decided to join in at the corner over there. But that didn’t explain why there were so many students from all across U.A. here in this dorm. A few from the business department, a couple upperclassmen, a smattering from the general departments, really?For goodness sake, there had to be over a hundred people in here. The only reason they weren’t packed in like sardines was due to how roomy they had built these lobbies. Everyone was talking quietly in groups, even the smallest children, with a melancholy hanging in the air that was disturbingly familiar.Aizawa didn’t have to walk in very far or to wait for very long. Once one student noticed him, suddenly everyone did. A complete and thorough hush fell over every child present – and they all still were children, weren’t they, not even old enough to drink. Still students that relied on adults.The expressions on their faces shouldn’t even be on children their age. He had seen it countless times; the look that someone had when they expected news but didn’t expect anything good. Aizawa had seen it on the families when he had to tell them that their son had been caught up in that villain attack, or that their daughter had been exacerbated by some illicit substance and that the Pro Hero in the area had no choice but to take her down. Your son, your daughter, your child or sibling, they weren’t coming home and we’re all very sorry.They were waiting for finality. They were waiting to mourn.He had long since prepared what he was going to say but didn’t get a chance to say it.“How’s Sensei?” Momo beat him to the punch; she sat on one of the couches, surrounded by a little bit of everyone. Next to her, snug between her and Kyoka – who looked better, now, a bit more stable and composed – sat that girl with the pale blue braids.Somehow, Aizawa had not expected that question. “He’s alive. Recovery Girl said that he should make a full recovery. He just needs some time.”The expressions on those from the other world were mixed; there was some relief, but there was anger and visible internal conflicts as well. It would probably take them all a long time to come to grips with what had happened. With their entire lives, perhaps.Aizawa frowned; no one was asking the question that he had anticipated, but that was likely because they already thought that they knew the answer. In their defense, he had to admit that he had, too, until twenty minutes ago. “Both of them are alive. Mashirao and Ojiro.”That got a reaction. It was as if an electrical shock ran through everyone present; all at once, from all corners, several voices asked, “What?!”The loudest of which came from the main sitting area. Katsuki jumped from his seat, over the back of the couch in question and then managed to stand there as if that had all been natural. “Mashirao and the other one are still alive?! How?!”‘The other one’. Nice. This wasn’t the time for corrections, though.Aizawa took a short breath. “We were only able to gather some details from your Sensei and it could be a few days before we can get more information, but he claims they were both sent to a facility that trains Senseis.”He couldn’t quite call them ‘caretakers’ like the other version of himself had. The word rankled him, considering what they really were. Though, everything about this had disturbed him since it had begun.The shock settling over the room didn’t last for long. Numerous wide eyes that had aimed themselves at him were starting to shake and dart around to look at each other. One of the Meis – with their faces turned, it took a moment to see the black mark of numbers from the very edge of her neck – looked to an unnaturally shell-shocked Katsuki before looking back to him. “We can have the portal done in a month. Do we know where this place they’re at is?”“You intend to go back?!” That was, surprisingly, Iida – who had the little girl who had just gotten her quirk a few days ago in his arms, the one with the jets, and had he already figured that bit out?!“This is gonna be just like the last time…” Kirishima moaned.“Didn’t you all almost die that time?!” Kaminari sputtered. “We’re doing that again?!”“Of course we are!” Mina and Ashido both said at the same time in the exact same tone from across the room. They then looked to each other in momentary amusement.“None of you are going anywhere for now.” Aizawa had to take a deep breath to not make it sound more menacing. “We have some idea of where this facility is, but do I need to remind you all that, first, there are Pro Heroes much more experienced than all of you ready and willing to do this and, secondly, that this is in an alternate universe. The dangers are far more numerous to the point that we don’t even know all of them yet.”A new, uneasy hush fell over the group.“You can’t really stop us.” It came from Katsuki; he still sounded stunned, but the words came low and dangerous.Oh, for the love of… “Really, now?” Aizawa sighed.“I don’t care what you threaten us with or how you intend to stop us.” Katsuki folded his arms and leaned against the back of the couch. “This is my family we’re talking about, here. Even if I have to go in alone to get him – them – out, I’m doing it.”“We’re making a fight for no reason.” Shoto said from the kitchen area. “Kacchan, he wants to help us. Not only do we still have tracking devices in us that we still don’t know where they are, but ten minutes ago, we were all absolutely sure that Mashirao was dead. At least now there’s a chance he’s coming out.”“Ojiro, too. Both of them.” Hagakure said with a soft sniffle.“Both of them.” Shoto gave the invisible girl a nod. Then, he looked back to Katsuki. “You’ve seen the demons up close. You know what they’re like. If they can still use the tracking devices to hunt us down as soon as we’re back there, we won’t stand a chance.”It seemed to do the job; Katsuki shifted in place, expression telling all the world that he hated what he was hearing but couldn’t find the logic to argue against it. It took a few seconds before anyone said anything again at all.“When can we talk to Sensei?” Katsuki asked it with the same venom from before.Aizawa frowned; of course he would want answers from the source. “Tomorrow, most likely. He’s still under medication.” -------------------- A great deal can happen in three weeks.Three weeks ago, Ojiro’s biggest concern had been the upcoming final exams. That afternoon, and he could remember it so clearly sometimes, he had been trailing behind classmates chatting about putting together study sessions and taking in the warm sunny afternoon. He remembered walking with Hagakure, how she had been the one to suggest he join them later on.Three weeks ago, a portal opened up in the middle of the courtyard. Their study session had been cut short by the loud buzzing alert on their phones. He had gone with the rest of them because why wouldn’t he? If something had happened, if people were in danger, he should be there as a Heroics student.At the time, he hadn’t understood. He didn’t know; how could he? These days, he wonders what would have happened if he had just taken a few seconds more – ten seconds – to step back and get a better assessment of the situation. Aizawa-sensei had always told them that Pro Heroes analyze first and act second. Ojiro had tried, but things had happened so fast…!Three weeks ago, he stood in front of what a version of himself called a ‘demon’ and lied to it. He had, he thought, been prepared to die, then; to sacrifice yourself for the greater good was, ultimately, a hero’s greatest calling, wasn’t it? The news glamorized the funerals; it had celebrated All Might as the legend that he was when he retired. He didn’t think he’d ever get that kind of funeral, but it had felt like he had done something.He hadn’t expected that offer. The other version of himself hadn’t, either. But they both took it together. What choice did they have? At least this way, he had thought – had he been naïve? – that if the other version of Mei could build a gateway to another dimension using spare parts and toothpicks, than Hatsume Mei could probably get something ten times better made twenty times as fast. That someone, some Pro Hero, would come for him.They had gone after Bakugo when he had been kidnapped. He had to tell himself that it had still taken three days back then and that had been with a tracking device, in their own universe, in their own country. And it still took a dozen Pro Heroes and All Might to get it done. He just had to bide his time and wait.Three weeks ago, he woke up in the smallest room he had ever been in, body aching and a fog over his brain. A bed that took up almost all of the room, a small glass door leading to a tiny bathroom and a door that locked from the outside. There had been an intercom in the ceiling that he briefly thought was part of a sprinkler system. He hadn’t known what it was until sound came from it.“Good morning, brand new first years!” A peppy, high-pitched voice that sounded familiar, but he couldn’t figure out why. “You must be in a lot of pain right now. Don’t worry, the scar on your chest will heal up. But just so you know, there is now a mechanical implant on each and every one of your hearts! If you go where you aren’t allowed or try to pick a fight you aren’t supposed to pick, it will instantly and immediately kill you. So don’t try any funny stuff!” The woman giggled; static frizzled it. “You’ll find your uniforms in a drawer directly across from the foot of your bed inside of the wall. You have fifteen minutes to be ready by your door. Good luck!”There really hadn’t been any time to panic. He quickly pulled on that strange uniform and, in the process, caught his reflection in the bathroom mirror; his neck had been itching since he woke up and he saw the cause of it now, a fresh string of big black numbers on his neck. They were the same five digits that his other self had, but with a ‘B’ at the end. Ojiro managed to push the shock and horror down to digest later. If he had watched more dystopian films, would he have been more prepared for this?The ‘uniforms’ resembled pajamas more than anything from back home. Simple loose slacks, a similarly oversized v-neck shirt and a pair of snug sandals all in the same shade of gray. The cut of the shirt revealed the upper part of the new scar on his chest.Three weeks ago, he had made some friends.That first half hour had gone by in a haze. A woman wearing a long skirted outfit that looked several hundred years out of date had led them in a single long line like tranquilized ducklings. Ojiro hadn’t really been able to get a grasp of anything past they put a what on my heart?! until he had sat down at the breakfast table.He hadn’t been the only one. From what he could understand, all of the ‘first years’ sat at a single long table at the back of the immense cafeteria. There was no lining up for food; the exact number of food-covered plates were already there. Eggs, sausage, potato of some kind and a glass of juice; a western style meal. Ojiro stared at the food for a moment before he dared to really look around.The boy wearing his face sat next to him; the other version of himself looked just as terrified as he felt, fresh red scar on his own chest and a new ‘A’ next to his number. When he looked further, people at their immensely long table were scratching at their chests, all looking alarmed, confused, sad and lost.To his right sat himself. To his left, sat a mute and wide-eyed Neito Monoma. Across from him, their backs to the main throng of the cafeteria, were a pale Ibara Shiozaki, a version of Hitoshi Shinso with even darker rings under his eyes and a quiet Inasa Yaorashi. They wore familiar faces, but they all looked like terrified children here. It was only because of how strange it all was that Ojiro was shaken back in to reality.What must have been the older years of students filed in a few seconds later. Many of them were looking at the long table – looking at the fresh blood, maybe – and more than a few looked startled when they looked at him. Or, rather, at them.“A sensei nominated twins?!” Someone said too loudly; terrified-looking classmates hushed them.Right. He shared a nervous glance with his other self; that was the cover story that ‘Grandfather’ had insisted on. Twins. From the same farm. If either of them ever claimed anything else, they would be labelled as insane and expelled from the program.‘Expelled’, he assumed, meant ‘killed’ here.“Does… Does anyone else notice…” Neito – and they had no last names here, Ojiro remembered that – murmured barely above a whisper. “That there aren’t as many older students as younger?”The three sitting in front of them – and a few at their edges – tried to look behind them without making it too obvious.“They told me that they expel whomever is unworthy.” Ibara said with a tremor.“If those are second years,” Hitoshi glanced over his shoulder at the closest table. “There’s maybe half as many.”“So half of us are going to be dead in a year.” Inasa said barely above a whisper. He was so, so different from the boisterously yelling tank of a wannabe-Pro from the license exam; this was not the same boy. “Half.”“Uhm, there’s only seventeen people at the last table.” The Mashirao of this universe said with absolute terror.“What?” Inasa said only a bit above a whisper, but immediately quieted down again. “There’s got to be a hundred of us!”They fell silent after that. Ojiro couldn’t form words at all.A buzzer went off in the air. A deep voice over an intercom sounded off. “You may begin.”They shared a confused glance; at the other tables, teenagers immediately began eating.These were the people that would continue to sit around him for every meal time. They were the only people he ever really got a chance to talk to.Within three days, he was homesick; the familiar faces reminded him of the life that he had in another universe. This Neito still had that smug air that had aggravated 1-A and 1-B to no end, but this one usually was far more sullen and afraid. He hadn’t known Shinso very well – he still, still couldn’t remember what happened at the Sports Festival all those months ago – but Hitoshi ended up being smart enough to warn them about things that they hadn’t even thought about; how not to eat all the food they were given, no matter how good, because it only made them sluggish later. Ibara and Inasa had both been strangers in his old life; here, they were as wary as everyone else, but they had small smiles and sometimes shared stories from the houses they had grown up in.Houses, farms, they were all learning the horrors of what they had been with him right along for the ride.Then there was the boy that looked just like him. Ojiro knew that he shared most of his personality with Mashirao; Ibara had said as much, remarking once how they tilted their head the same way and how their tails moved in almost identical patterns.But the familiarity made everything all the worse. Ojiro missed his parents. He missed his school. He missed the friends who sometimes ignored him for the more rambunctious and popular classmates, but had been there all the same. He missed Hagakure, who had been the only one that tried to pull him in to group events. He missed the convenience store behind his families’ apartment complex, the one he used to save up his allowance money for as a kid to spend on kuji lotteries. He even missed the way Kaminari used to grab his tail at every opportunity, and that was just weird because he never found out why Kaminari always did that.He missed it all with such pain that it hurt because deep down, he wasn’t really sure if anyone was going to come for him. Two weeks ago, they had all learned about the system in place. The first week, nearest that Ojiro could figure out, had been strictly an introduction. It was kindness to even let that, and kindness was not something there was a lot of in this place. Still, he hadn’t been the only one confused by what the demons had decided that they needed to learn. The sewing, embroidery, penmanship, reading comprehension and ‘how to clean different types of material’ courses were odd but made a weird sort of sense. If the demons intended them to take care of children – high quality children, one instructor had been so adamant to tell them, and he had not been the only one that had squirmed uncomfortably –, those were things that could actually come in use. Basic childcare, they were told, would come in a later semester. Assuming that they survived this one. It was the combat training that threw him for a loop. Three times a day, they would spar against each other; an hour after breakfast, an hour after lunch and an hour before dinner. They were told to hold nothing back. Ojiro doubted that any of the many teenagers his age here had the same combat training he had undergone over the past few years. Even before U.A., he had done everything he could to strengthen himself; ever since he had decided that he had wanted to become a Pro Hero, he had gone to dojos for various martial arts. He remembered being that spunky little 7-year-old trying to take grown men down with his tail and all the encouragement that came with it. U.A. had only made what skill he had all the more refined; he had been proud of himself only a little while ago for it. But things were very different here. Would it be better or worse to be more experienced? His lookalike – his “twin” – certainly didn’t have his skill. The mirror image of his own face had bitten his lip and looked so afraid that first time that they had sparred. Ojiro had tried to give him tips in secret while they were matched up. Two weeks ago, once that introductory period was up, a scoreboard appeared in every classroom. It didn’t have their names but it had their numbers. Their scores all had been at ‘0’ at first. “This is how we grade you.” Their combat instructor – a version of Cementoss who Ojiro so far had not heard so much as raise his voice, but there was always a glint in his eyes that seemed dangerous – had said as soon as they all noticed the board. “In standard classes, you will receive one demerit, one mark, for every mistake that we feel deserves one. In combat, I will give them as I see fit. At fifty demerits, you will be expelled from this program.” He had smiled, then, corners of his mouth curling on that blocky face. “I wish you all luck.” They had all started at ‘0’. It didn’t take long for them to start piling up. One week ago, just how horrible this place was really rammed itself home. By then, Ojiro had figured out that the entire curriculum was designed to weed out the weak ones and whoever couldn’t adapt. Embroidery class right after morning combat and sewing after afternoon sparring were the worst; with hands shaking and limbs sore, getting the delicate needles where they needed to go had been a horror in itself. Quite a few of them had ended up with marks added to the scoreboard. Stretching classes from U.A. – the ones that taught them how to force their limbs to relax in tight places, where Pro Heroes might find themselves facing against villains – had been enough to give him an edge. He had shared what he had known at meal times; simply cracking his hands could help so much. But that could only take them so far. And they weren’t the only people stuck in this place with people scoring their every move. It had been during one of those embroidery classes. No one ever said a thing during those lessons – only the instructor and an occasional video lesson on the front board. Instead every one of the hundred or so of them were usually stone quiet as they focused on the task before them. One morning, that was interrupted when someone shouted from the hall. “Please!” It sounded like a young woman. “Please, give me one more chance, I promise to do better!” “Young lady, you’ve had plenty of chances. Fifty, in fact.” A man with a deep voice let out an audible sigh. “Now, you need to act with a little more decorum.” “Please don’t expel me…” She was sobbing now, whoever she was. “Please, I don’t want to die.” The voices then dropped to a more conversational tone; it didn’t carry through the closed door. For a quick second, Ojiro’s first instinct had been to jump up and help. It came with the training to be a Hero, from all that time at U.A., from the license exam that may as well have been a lifetime ago. He had to squish it down and stay exactly where he was. There was absolutely nothing that he could do to help that poor woman. None of them could. He had figured that out before half the conversation had happened; before the man had even finished talking, Ojiro forced his eyes back on the needle and thread in his hands. The woman was still sobbing loudly, echoing from the halls, when he had the feeling that something was wrong. He glanced up out of instinct. Their instructor – Mandalay, out of all people – was staring at him. He never had the time to think about what, if anything, that gaze had meant. Ojiro had tried to remember to analyze it later, before what had become his nightly ritual of shower-brush teeth-sleep. But in the end, like most days since he had gotten here, Ojiro had fallen asleep as soon as his head hit the thin pillow. He had dreamed about an invisible girl and he remembered waking up to the intercom-blared alarm feeling incredibly sad about it. By the morning, he had forgotten about that instructor’s gaze. Today, he had made a mistake. It had happened in the afternoon round of sparring. After seeing his ‘classmates’ – it felt so strange to think of them like that – use the full power of their quirks against each other in the largest gym that he had ever been in, Ojiro had decided that he may as well do the best that he could do as well. Inasa had knocked down more than a few opponents in the blink of an eye using his wind and Ibara’s vines had all but destroyed any competition without a single look of regret. They were fighting to survive, after all, so he supposed there was nothing wrong with it. Had he been naïve again? But today had been only the second time he had been paired up with his ‘twin’. The first had been during that first week, where nothing really had mattered. Ojiro knew that he had far more skill than Mashirao had – and using his last name alone while someone else had his first still felt strange, but it was what had to be done. Ojiro still had no demerits to his score. His ‘brother’ had three. They had been matched up as sparring partners late in the hour; throwing the match had felt like something good, something that certainly wouldn’t be noticed in this sea of fifty sparring partners. And even if it were, he could afford to have a single mark. He had only wanted to do something good. To be kind. Ojiro only let the ‘match’ last for a few seconds; he bobbed and weaved just to stall. Then, he let the tail that wrapped itself around his shoulders to spin him and pin him to the ground. “Stop!” It was not a plea, but an order. It came in a booming voice from their instructor. Everything, all at once, came to a halt. Ojiro was still on the floor when everyone else around them suddenly became too afraid to move. Feet skid to a halt, entire matches froze where they were. Nobody made a sound. “You!” The cement-block shadow came before the body it belonged to did. Beady black eyes bore in to him when they got there. “You, 56455-B, Ojiro, get up!” When the first villain attack had happened back at USJ, there had been a fear so thick that he could have touched it. It had been like a thick gel that had coated everything and it had lasted, back then, for maybe five minutes. Then, once he had taken in the facts of the situation – that he was alone, that no one knew where he was, and that actual villains were figuratively on his tail – he had tried to approach the situation logically. He had reminded himself of the basic rules Aizawa had taught them.First: Don’t get caught.
Second: Get help.
Third: If all else fails, beat them at their own game. He had already failed at the first and the second was null and void. So, that left only that third option. As his ‘brother’ scurried out of the way – and, really, who could blame him for that – Ojiro warily got back to his feet. “Sensei?” Respectfully, of course, he sincerely doubted that a rebellious attitude would get him anything nice. “Did you just lose to your brother on purpose?!” It was asked as if it were a horrible, incredulous crime. “Sir?” Ojiro had once had to practice looking confused – he had done so before meeting that very first demon those weeks ago – but it didn’t take as much effort anymore. “I didn’t –” “I saw what you did.” Those small black eyes were boring in to him. “I know you’re better at this than Mashirao, you have ten times the skill. Why did you throw that match?” Okay, so maybe he should have been reeling it back from day one. Too late now. “Sir, I was just –” “Just trying to be nice because you care about him, right?” Something in that cement block face softened. Something in the back of Ojiro’s mind screamed a warning bell. He ignored it. “Yes, sir.” Today, he had made a mistake. One heavy gray fist struck him in the face. He hadn’t even realized what had happened – that he had been punched – until he was back on the ground. The pain flared a second later; with it came the blood, flowing from his nose like twin faucets. “Never, ever let your opponent win just because you care.” There was so much disgust in that last word that it roiled Ojiro’s stomach. “You’ll have a ton of small children that will look at you with puppy eyes and pull at your heartstrings. You’ll care about them, too, but you can’t let them win.”Ojiro staggered to his feet, holding his face with one hand. Had he just… Broken his nose? A tentative poke and the pain that came with him told him that yes, yes he had.Their instructor was looking at him again. Ken-sensei sneered; it was an expression so unlike Cementoss’s usually calm demeanor from back home. “Five demerits.” Several horrified gasps went around the room. “And go to the nurse.”Ojiro took a deep breath and gave a quick glance around the room; Mashirao looked guilt-ridden, as if this had been his fault somehow. He’d have to try to calm him down later. Right now, he had to…Well, right now, he had to get out of there. All he could do was stumble off, leaving a trail of blood behind him.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

When Monday rolled around, everything suddenly felt as if it were happening all at once. Since the last opening of a portal on U.A. grounds, the courtyard had been under a swarm of bodies and none of them had been students or faculty; police, government official and scientists alike – and Aizawa was pretty sure that there was some overlap between those three groups – had been working seemingly nonstop in that courtyard by the dorms. The good news, at least, was that no more portals would be opening up at all unless they purposefully allowed one in. The ‘jammers’ – a colloquial name, as the actual term made too many peoples’ heads spin – put in place by what were supposedly the governments’ best and brightest minds would scramble any future attempts. There was a range to the thing, though; but, for now, U.A. was the safest place from an invasion from an alternate dimension. Classes somehow still went on as scheduled and, even more incredibly, with no major disruptions. Spirits were mixed, at least amongst his own class; Aizawa could see it. There was some happiness that most of the lost siblings of their counterparts had been brought in, but also the same melancholy that their own friend was still gone. Ojiro’s desk had become something of a memorial; random objects had begun to appear on the empty desk and someone had put a large plush lizard tail, the kind people wore at costume parties, on his chair. Still, there was a new, stark difference. It was one thing to believe your friend was dead and another to know that they were alive, if too far out of reach. There was a new gleam in the eyes of his students that sent a small pit of dread in his stomach. Did they think he couldn’t see or hear them whispering in the halls or between classes? Did they think he was an idiot and that he didn’t know that they were making plans? Did he really need to have another conversation with these kids? Aizawa was also very much aware that, during the time he spent in class, the orphans from that other universe would be spending their day talking to their Sensei. The on-site makeshift hospital, he knew, would only let in a few of them in at a time but he doubted any of them would not want to be the first in line. Why had U.A. been chosen by the powers-that-be to be the center of all of this? Did the universe just want to make their lives as annoying as possible? Why did everything always keep on happening in this past year? Did multiple universes have it out for them now? With all the nonsense going on, he hadn’t even had the time or energy to go on his usual hero routes; there had been no late-night patrols since this entire thing had begun. The sad thing was, half of that was just because of the paperwork. Paperwork that seemed never-ending; by that afternoon, after classes let out, it only got worse. Permission from the police department to run both paternity and maternity checks against their own database had come in. By the evening, just about every one of the original batch of orphans he had on hand had gone through. He didn’t have samples of any of the more recent arrivals, though Aizawa thought that getting a saliva swab would probably be just as easy as it was the first time under the guise of a medical check. Despite everything, those children were still a bit too trusting. He didn’t know if he was happy or not that more than half of them came back with no match. No Pro Hero, sidekick, associate or official were the genetic parent or relative to those children; for all he knew, their parents didn’t even exist in this universe. What did match, however, baffled him. Aizawa read over the first positive results a few times just to be sure he was reading things correctly. Some things made sense. That one-year-old with the red and white hair was, in fact, related to Endeavor; the boy was a younger brother that Shoto Todoroki did not have. That little sheep girl did come up as a match for Pony Tsunotori genetically, but only as her mothers’ daughter. That boy who could enlarge his feet was Itsuka Kendo’s full-blooded brother. But other parts were starting to cause a headache; one little boy came up as a match as Ectoplasm’s cousin, but neither of his parents had siblings in this universe. One of the older girls came up as Mandalay’s daughter. Best Jeanist had two different sons, both of which were only half-siblings to the other, in this lot of kids. Then there was the little girl with the jets in her legs. Little Manami, Aizawa was surprised to learn, was not technically Iida’s younger sister. She was, genetically, his niece. ----------------------  Honestly, Katsuki was surprised that so few of the others wanted to be the first to talk to Sensei. In fact, when they had been given the all-clear by people in white suits that claimed to be doctors and nurses, they had all just looked at him. Some had just straight asked him to take the lead, and although he had once been used to having his ego stroked by his numerous brothers and sisters, all of this felt wrong. Even Shoto stepped aside and he didn’t know if it was because everyone still had a little bit of a grudge after learning their half-and-half brother had been spying on them for so many years or what. But the doctors had said that a few of them could see their Sensei together. So he put together a small list of those that he thought deserved the first shot and was again surprised to meet no argument or complaint, especially considering he had put Shoto on that list. He had expecting at least some grumblings or complaints but instead there had just been… Nothing. Silence. Worried eyes all around. Though, Katsuki had to admit that even he could see that the competitive spirit had been drained out of everyone since they had escaped. Getting Erika and the others back had brought back some smiles, but without Mashirao – without all of them there – he guessed that everyone else felt the same guilt and fear that he did. It was something to deal with another time, though. Right now, he had an interrogation to run. Katsuki had never considered himself stupid; in fact, he was confident in his ability to figure out what people were going to do before they did it. It was why he brought Shoto in to this, knowing he had some anger about how Sensei had essentially controlled him for so many years. Mei, too, of course, and then just Momo and Tsuyu. Honestly, he just wanted people to back him up with the yelling his rage was bound to bring out. Momo still blamed herself for shooting at Mashirao and Sensei had broken Tsuyu’s leg, they should both be pissed…! Yet, once they walked in to what he supposed counted as an infirmary here, he felt like the air was just drained out of his lungs. Back at the house, the infirmary had been made to be warm and inviting. Any time anyone was sick or hurt, they would stay confined in there to recover and to not spread any germs. The walls had been the color of the sunset, the floor the familiar dark wood of the rest of the house, and he could remember a tinny song playing from one of those spinning-toy music boxes when he had once been sick with the flu. Here, the walls were stark white. The bed was white, the blankets were white, everything had that same bleached color of their old uniforms. The harsh stark lack of color was one of the reasons he had stopped wearing the color entirely; it reminded him of being a prisoner, now. And then there was Sensei, looking weak and frail in a bed, blankets pulled so high that they almost reached his neck – almost covered the numbers there – and there was some kind of tube from a bag held up by metal stuck in one of his arms. Behind him, Momo let out a soft gasp. He could feel more than hear Shoto shift in place uneasily. Mei was gritting her teeth. Sensei opened his eyes to look at them. “Oh… Hello, children.” He sounded tired. Old, even. He wasn’t smiling, which made him look more like the other one. Was it a trick to get them to drop their defenses? To look more helpless than he was so that they’d feel bad for him? Well, he wasn’t going to fall for that. “Hey.” Katsuki glared with everything that he had. “I just got one question for you, Sensei.” He put as much venom in to that word as he could. “Why?” Sensei blinked once. “Why…? Why what?” Katsuki could feel the rage poking at the back of his brain; he almost let sparks fly before noticing a bright red sign on the wall, harsh against the white of everything else, warning him that something in here was flammable. Instead, he settled for clenching his fists. “You really have to ask? You… Why did you help only some of us get out after it was already too late?!” “Kacchan…” Tsuyu croaked sadly. “We lost Mashirao and probably for good, and it was you that pulled him back in!” Katsuki didn’t even try to control his volume. There it was; a small smile crossed Sensei’s face. The same familiar, fake thing he had worn for all of their lives. “I didn’t realize you were that close to Mashirao, Katsuki.” Katsuki could swear that his hair was standing on end, he was so angry. Before he could get any fresh coherent words out, Shoto beat him to the punch. “That’s not the point how close we were or weren’t. Only what happened.” “I tried to stop you from escaping before to save my own skin.” That smile was still on Sensei’s face; as if he were completely at peace with what he was saying, as if he felt nothing at all. “Because you all had tracking devices in you. I knew that if you escaped and when you’d be tracked down, it would come back to me. I went after you to save myself.” Katsuki could feel his face burn. Sign or not, he might have to let something explode. He had suspected as much, knew that Sensei never really cared about any of them at all, that it was just all about himself and doing whatever he wanted to make those demon monsters happy…! “Sensei,” Momo said suddenly; he had, briefly, forgotten that the others were there. “We know you have numbers like we do. And we know how old you are because Aizawa told us that he’s only thirty-one years old. But you’ve been our Sensei for fifteen years. How old were you when you were shipped out?” The smile dropped from Sensei’s face. It didn’t look like he had been expecting that question. Katsuki hadn’t, either, he turned to stare at Momo. What was she getting at? Where was she going with this? “I was twelve.” Sensei answered with what sounded like confusion. “That would…” Tsuyu’s voice trembled. “That would make you… Fourteen when you became a Sensei, kero?>” “Yes.” Sensei still didn’t look like he knew where this line of questioning was going. “Yes, I got through their training program very quickly.” “Did you know? When you went?” Shoto sounded like he was frowning. “About… Everything?” Katsuki turned to look at the faces around him; why did everyone look so sad?! Why wasn’t anyone else pissed off?! So what if Sensei was twelve when he went to some training facility like the one Mashirao was in – Oh. Well, now he felt a little bit like an idiot for not seeing this as the interrogation that it was. Dammit. “I knew… Some things.” Sensei’s eyes closed for longer than a standard blink. “I grew up in a house just like you did, everyone happy and smiling and ignorant. My own Sensei told me everything. Told a few of us when we asked together.” Mei was still gritting her teeth. Momo, however, let out a small gasp. “A few of you…?” “I had brothers and sisters too, you know.” That weird small smile came back to Sensei’s face. “Just like you all did. I tried to copy the same kind of happy home I had growing up. I think I did a pretty good job.” “Yeah, it was super happy.” Shoto said icily. “So why the hell should we feel bad for you, again?” Katsuki wasn’t sure what to do with his hands to keep them from going off, so he folded his arms. “You say you grew up just like we did, huh? Why didn’t you try to escape, then?” “Oh, we did.” Sensei’s eyes were roving over all of them a little too slowly. It occurred to Katsuki, then, that he might be under some kind of drug. He hadn’t taken that in to consideration. “We got as far as the top of the wall. Then Sensei found us, like she always did. Nemuri, Hizashi and I on top of that wall and Ken down below. Ken was only nine, but we needed his cement quirk to get up there…” A pause. “I don’t know why Sensei sent me away for that training program instead of just killing me.” He was trying to pull out as much pity from them as possible. Katsuki looked to the faces around him and, to his chagrin, saw Momo and Tsuyu with their bleeding hearts fresh on their faces. Oh, for goodness sake, he knew girls tended to be more sensitive sometimes, but really?! At least Mei and Shoto were on the ball. They were still angry. “What's it like?” Mei ground out past her teeth; she was still trying to run with this. Good. He was proud of her. “In that training facility? What are they doing to Mashirao?” It took a few seconds for Sensei to answer them. He looked away from them, eyes looking at the ceiling lights. “It… Probably could be worse than it is. When I was there, we were well fed and given plenty of time to sleep. But not everyone did well enough to survive.” A pause. “I wouldn’t have sent Mashirao if I didn’t think he could handle it. I’ve only sent children that I thought were strong enough.” “Children?” Katsuki suddenly had a pit in his stomach. “What, you’ve sent other kids before?” “A few.” Sensei gave a small nod before he finally looked back at them. “You don’t remember the Sensei that was at the house before me, do you? Before she left, I helped her nominate a couple. Some of them were older than I was when they were shipped out and I had already been done, so that was a little awkward. But then I sent… I think three others over the years after Sensei Chiyo was gone. I like to think that all of them made it.” “Who did you send?” The question was out before Katsuki could really think to put extra bite in to it, to make it sound harsh. “I…” Sensei blinked; it looked like he was trying to think through whatever fog he was in. “There was a boy with red wings. I don’t remember his name. There was…” A pause. “…I don’t remember what I nominated Fuyumi for, but I know I suggested her for something. There were so many children over the years…” Katsuki rubbed his face; either whatever drug the doctors were giving him was making it hard for Sensei to think or he was still trying to cover for all of the terrible things he had done to them. “Maybe we should try again later.” Tsuyu let out a sigh. “Sensei still looks… Wobbly.” “I’m surprised you’re not upset.” Shoto said what he was thinking, thank god. “He did break your leg.” “Yeah, but I keep thinking what I would do if I’d be killed if I let a bunch of kids escape, kero.” Tsuyu looked shamefully to the floor and shrugged a little. “We were like farm animals, weren’t we? Would I let myself care that much about animals that I knew were going to die?” “We’re not animals.” Mei hissed. Katsuki turned to look at the argument that he had a feeling was about to break out, but something was bothering him. Something about Tsuyu’s tone didn’t ring quite right, and the expression on her face looked a little bit too forced. Were they really…? If they had been this many paces ahead without planning it between themselves… “To Sensei, we might as well have been.” Momo looked right at him. She winked. Oh. Oh, really, he felt even more like an idiot now. “Psht.” Katsuki let the noise out as loud as he could. “We need to have a talk, but not here. We can check on Sensei later, when he isn’t fucking loopy.” Sensei looked at them as they turned to leave. Momo and Tsuyu both lingered a few seconds longer, and he hoped that they milked the ‘we pity you’ look for as much as they could. Hot damn. They even had him fooled for a bit. Right now, he just made sure that his steps were extra loud and extra angry so that Sensei could hear them. In the hallway, more than ten paces away from the door that closed behind them, Katsuki finally turned to stare at the rest of them. “When the hell were you going to fill me in on that?!” Everyone stopped. Momo and Mei both had the gall to look amused. “You figured it out eventually, didn’t you?” Mei suddenly grinned; it was a sudden shift from the act that she had put on. “So what’s the big deal?” “You should have told me you were going to do that shit!” Katsuki could feel the tips of his fingers spark. “Uhm, Kacchan, I mean absolutely no offense…” Momo bit her lip; she looked like she was trying very hard not to laugh. “We all care for you very deeply, but we all know each other very well. We just all agreed –” “You can’t lie for shit, kero.” Tsuyu said bluntly. For a moment, he was so stunned that ‘dear little Tsu-chan’ had sworn that Katsuki stopped. So did everyone else. “You speak from your heart. Constantly.” Tsuyu shrugged. “I mean, you did get better over the past few months with… Everything, kero, but you’re still pretty bad at acting.” “Not that speaking from the heart is a bad thing!” Momo had her hands up to try and placate them. “We just knew that, well… We wanted you to be your natural self.” Mei had moved further down the hall, but she had begun to laugh far too loudly. Even Shoto had a small smile on his face. Katsuki could physically feel steam coming out of his ears. “You… All of you…” He didn’t know what to do. He legitimately had no idea what to say to properly express how he felt. He felt insulted and angry and on some level strangely proud of them, but also still generally so, so deeply annoyed. So, he turned and stomped off. Mei still cackled in the hall behind him. ---------------- A few hours later, Katsuki finally found a gym that was empty. This school that they now lived in had multiple gyms and so many different places to exercise with so many different pieces of equipment that, honestly, he felt a little bit spoiled. He couldn’t fault the logic that the whole ‘training to be a hero for society’ thing needed ways to get stronger, but he didn’t even know what half of this equipment was. He could remember the squeals and gasps of excitement that the others had let out the first time they had been let in to one of these rooms. They had been allowed free access whenever they wanted, and the cement block man that had been with them had smiled just a little bit wickedly when he told them that, as they weren’t technically students, curfew didn’t apply to them, so… Well Katsuki knew that some of the others went down here at all hours of the night. He knew that Mezo had from the start, that Kyoka had started joining him since roughly yesterday – since she had stabbed that demon in the face – and Mina, Ochaco and Tooru usually came back at two or three in the morning in a solid cackling pack. Maybe one day he’d join them during one of their middle-of-the-night runs. Right now, it was the latter half of the afternoon and he finally, finally could let something explode. As soon as he saw one of those hanging bags intended for punching – the same bright red as that flammable warning sign – he let out the yell he had been holding since talking to Sensei and the others, brought up both of his hands, and blasted that thing with all the pent up anger that he had. When the smoke cleared, the bag still hung where it was. It didn’t even look scorched. “What the hell?” Katsuki stared at it. “They make things strong in here.” A girls’ voice came from nearby. “It takes way more to bring these things down!” Then, the soft gasps of someone working out. Katsuki had to look past another punching bag to see the floating t-shirt and shorts. The lack of floating numbers told him who it was. “Uh… Other Tooru, what the heck was your name again?” “Hagakure. Hi!” It looked like she was waving from a pile of weights. At least, the sleeve of her t-shirt moved. One barbell lifted itself in the air in time to the other sleeve. “You said ‘heck’. Bakugo goes right for the F-bombs.” “Yeah, well…” Katsuki let out a snort before looking back to the bright red bag in front of him. He moved back a pace to start punching it. “Bakugo doesn’t have a fuck ton of little kids around him all the time. The last time I said a swear word around any of them, there were nine kids under the age of five all saying ‘fuck’ for a month straight.” Laughter, light and bubbly, erupted from the weights. Katsuki rolled his eyes. Then, he started punching the bag in front of him, hoping that some of the anger still churning in the back of his mind would find its way out. It was quiet for a few seconds. “You’ve never used one of those things, huh?” The invisible girl sounded closer. Too close. “Gah!” Katsuki jumped at the sudden voice in his ear. “Holy shit, some warning?!” “Eh.” The floating t-shirt shrugged. “Anyway, it helps if you work on your feet before you start punching. I used to go to this gym when I was little, they told me where to put my feet and everything. Look at my shoes, you can’t even see my legs, so you get an even better view than I did!” She giggled again. He looked at her feet despite himself. Bright yellow sneakers with little flares at the laces shuffled apart from each other and he had the feeling that she was bending her knees with the way her shirt suddenly bobbed. Somehow, Katsuki was reminded of something. “Oh. Like an All Might takeoff stance.” Katsuki blinked. “What?” Hagakure stopped. “You know about All Might?” “We’ve been here a few weeks, you know.” Katsuki smirked. “And we figured out how to use the television a while ago. We’ve been watching, uh…” Shit, he couldn’t remember the proper word. “…Movies? Films?” He tried to make his brain pull up information faster. “Feature presentations?” Another bubbly giggle came from Hagakure. “Movies, usually. ‘Flicks’, but that’s more slang-ey. But you should call them ‘talkies’ just to mess with people, it’d be funny.” He understood the why behind that joke, but just barely. Or he hoped he understood. Getting used to the culture here was still an issue. “But you saw All Might movies?” Hagakure settled herself at the punching bag next his own. He watched her shuffle back and forth. It didn’t look like she was getting ready to punch, only to move her feet. “Yeah, if even half that shit was true and real, I can see why everyone respects the guy.” Katsuki still kept his eyes on her feet. “The whole ‘saving people with a smile’ thing. The others all love it, too.” He grinned mostly to himself. “And I gotta say, it even pumps me up. I mean, who wouldn’t want to have that kind of power, to be able to just save everyone? Shit, if we had anyone like that back home…” Katsuki took a deep breath; why was this conversation helping? He felt a little calmer and he didn’t know why. “Well, if we can’t have an All Might, I guess I’m gonna have to try to be the next best thing. To get strong enough to kick some demon ass. Plus Ultra, right?” “Yeah. Plus Ultra.” She didn’t sound nearly as enthused. “That’s why I’m trying to get stronger, too, kind of.” Katsuki felt himself frown; with all his anger about losing Mashirao and, before they had gotten them back, the other little kids, he still kept on forgetting that the people here lost someone as well. “You gonna go try to save your, uh…” ‘Your Mashirao’ made it sound like they were dating. “Ojiro.” Hagakure had stopped what she was doing. “I don’t think they’d let me, and I’m pretty sure he’d be so mad if I put my life on the line for him. They’re always telling us to be smart about how we risk our lives, that a dead hero is a useless hero, and even All Might tells us that sometimes it’s better to run away and to get more experienced people to do the job.” Then, he had the feeling that she was looking at him. “You know All Might teaches at this school, right?” “What?” Katsuki could feel something in him go stiff. “Where? What?!” “There was a really big fight and he lost his power,” The words came a little sadly. “So he’s kind of all small and skinny now and sometimes he’s coughing blood. But Yagi-Sensei’s on campus all the time.” “Wait a sec.” Oh, no. Oh, no, no. “Yagi Toshinori? Short guy, blonde hair, really creepy black and blue eyes?” “Yeah, that sounds like him.” “Fuck!” Katsuki could feel the dread seep in deeper, now. “That was All Might!? He watches the little kids all the time! I called him ‘shortstack’ and ‘bones’ and made fun of his hair!” There was a moment of silence. Then, Hagakure burst out in to laughter so hard that she doubled over and clutched her stomach. She was so much like Tooru that it was a little bit dizzying. There had been such a difference between himself and Bakugo that he had just assumed that everyone had the same stark line between them and their other selves. Their underlying personalities had been kind of sort of the same, but the way they had each grown up had made them different people. Bakugo had been an only child while he had grown up with dozens of siblings. He had thought that they all had the same problems as a result. But this Hagakure giggled the same, moved the same, she even, now that she was getting back up and trying to calm down… “You talk with your hands just like she does.” The laughter stopped. “What?” Hagakure’s voice was sheer confusion. “Your hands.” Katsuki looked at where her feet were and tried to copy the position again. “You move them a lot when you talk.” “What?” She asked again. “How do you even… I’m invisible, you know that, right?” “Listen, I grew up hunting Tooru down in so many games of tag and hide and seek…” Katsuki rolled his eyes at some of the memories. “I – we had to figure out quick how to find her or she’d win every game. The light’s a little weirder. Mei said something once about particles or some shit not reacting right, but your hands move when you talk.” For a few seconds, Hagakure stood there stock still. Katsuki thought that maybe, maybe, he shouldn’t have said anything. If they were training to be heroes or police or whatever the fuck, then maybe Hagakure had put more emphasis on her invisibility than Tooru did? For Tooru, it had always just been something of a cosmic joke, just the quirk that the universe gave her. Had he just ruined Hagakure’s entire image of herself, knowing that there were ways for people to see her? That she wasn’t the perfect, invisible spy girl that she was training to be? Shit. He hoped she wouldn’t cry. Every time one of the other little ones came sobbing to him about something, he never knew what the hell to say. That was for Momo and Mei and Hanta and occasionally Shoto once in a while, though he was a hell of a lot more pragmatic and usually just made kids cry worse. “Uh…” Katsuki started to say, trying to dig up the words for this. What the hell do people usually say?! “Hey, uh…” “No one has ever noticed that about me before.” Hagakure sounded shocked. “No one ever says anything unless I’m wearing gloves or leggings or something to show what I’m doing…” “Uh.” Katsuki said again. Wait, was that a good thing? Well, what was he supposed to say now? Then, he didn’t really have to think about it. Invisible arms were suddenly wrapping themselves around his chest and giving him a hug. “Uh…!” Shit, someone was hugging him! Usually he’d allow the little ones to do that, but the only ones he’d let only came up to waist-high at best, and none of the older kids would dare. But now this girl was hugging him and Katsuki had to stop himself from blasting her away because seriously, what the hell!? A hug?! So, awkwardly, Katsuki stood there for the few seconds that felt like much more, miserably longer. By the time Hagakure let go, it felt like peeling a bandaid off of a wound. Then, after a moment of silence, one sleeve pumped itself in the air. “Okay! I’ve decided that I’m going to help you with a good, proper workout! Let’s start with the fancy footwork stuff, okay!?” Despite how weird Katsuki still felt about whatever it was that had just happened, it couldn’t be said that he refused to learn ways to improve himself. So, he took a moment to shake himself off from the sheer weirdness of that hug. Then, he followed the lead of someone he couldn’t really see. ---------------------  “Today, we’re going to have a special exam.” The announcement came from Ken-sensei after lunch, and, just like that, the notion that this was just going to be just another day came to a halt. Ojiro had wondered when things were going to get worse, and he supposed that this was it. Things had to get worse, they were a solid month in to this and, so far, no one had gotten enough demerits to fail out. If the people in charge wanted to weed out half of them by the end of the… Year? Semester? He still wasn’t sure, and he sincerely doubted that they’d have any kind of summer or winter vacation. Regardless, things were going to have to get worse to get rid of that many people. He could feel the same nervous energy in everyone else. Was everyone else coming to the same conclusion? He shared a glance with his ‘twin’ and saw his own anxiety reflected back at him. No one in the room, a hundred strong, dared to say anything or to ask any questions. They quietly, obediently, followed their instructor in to the hall. Still, despite that no one was saying anything, body language could say a great deal; back at U.A., one of the lessons had been to look around to see what people were doing and, right now, there was a whole lot of very small actions happening.Two girls were holding hands a short distance behind him. A boy with leathery wings had wrapped them around two others nearby. People were shaking and walking stiffly and Ojiro could feel his own breath coming short.What was going to happen, here? Terrified ideas ran through his head, each more outlandish than the last. A written exam where the lowest scores were removed? Gladiatorial combat to the death? He once saw a documentary where prisoners of war were given meals to eat, but a fraction of them had been randomly poisoned…Eventually, after what felt like far too long, they reached the end of the hallway. The doors opened, Ken-Sensei led them through and then they were… Outside.Ojiro was so shocked that he had to blink a few times at the sudden warmth of the sun. There were hardly any clouds in the sky, the sun beamed brightly, and there was a soft, pleasant wind coming through the trees not too far away. He hadn’t seen greens this vibrant in what felt like… Well, since he had gotten here.Had he really not seen the sun in a month?“Ladies and gentlemen.” Ken-sensei got their attention once they were all out there. The doors closed behind them, but it didn’t let out any ominous bangs or clicks. “I’ll be brief, as this is a timed exam. There are, in this forest, one hundred mannequins hidden around. Find one, bring it back, and you pass. They are fragile, so don’t rip them apart. I will not accept body parts. If you don’t bring one back, you will receive thirty-five demerits. Which, for some of you, would mean instant expulsion.”There was a pause just long enough to let that settle in.“Frankly, there are enough that every person here could plausibly pass.” Cement gray shoulders shrugged. “So, to make things interesting, if you bring back three of the dummies, you will have your score wiped back to zero. For some of you, I imagine that could be very tempting. The class you usually have after mine will be moved to occur during evening combat instead, so you will have two hours for this examination.” He smiled, but it was a little gentler than the usual. “Good luck.”At first, there was a bit of a scramble. There had been nothing said against teaming up or going in groups and, after seeing others moving along in packs, Ojiro looked to his ‘brother’.Mashirao gave him a solid, still slightly fearful shrug. Which was, frankly, good enough.Ojiro turned to look for the rest of the people he considered almost friends, but all he saw was the purple of Hitoshi’s hair already moving in the distance, Inasa’s wind pushing him over the treetops, and absolutely no sign of Ibara or Neito.Half an hour later, there came the feeling that something about all of this was just a little bit weird.“People are already finding bodies.” Mashirao said it with confusion. “Dummies. The fake bodies.”“Yeah.” Ojiro frowned with the same bafflement; not too far from where they had decided to go – randomly, really, they had just picked a direction and went – a group of four were pulling a pair of mannequins out of a small opening under a tree. “It’s almost as if they weren’t trying too hard to hide them.”“You don’t think they’re trying to… Give us a break or something, do you?” Mashirao said, still confused.Ojiro turned to give him a look. His ‘twin’ gave him a helpless shrug.But it was in that movement that he saw something odd. Sunlight filtering through the canopy of trees bounced off of something a little strangely above them. Ojiro looked up and squinted.Mashirao followed suit.There were a few seconds where the only sound was birds singing in the distance.“What… Is that?” Mashirao said with a frown.By all appearances, there was absolutely nothing in the trees. Still, the light was bouncing off of a thick branch a couple of meters up as if something was there, leaving a shadow that came from nothing and a strange ripple on the end.It didn’t take much to get up there. A leap to a lower branch, turning so his tail could grab another, and within a couple of flying rotations, Ojiro hung from his tail above whatever it was.Mashirao followed only a second behind him, maneuvering up with a different set of branches.Ojiro dropped from his branch to land on the one leaving the strange shadow. He reached out his hand and hit… Something. Something solid, but it wasn’t something he could see.Then, the air rippled. When it settled on colors, it revealed three child-sized mannequins; one larger one positioned as if it were holding two smaller ones close. The larger mannequin had webbed fingers and bulbous, chameleon-like eyes. It was only a little creepy.The entire camouflage trick reminded Ojiro of both Hagakure and Asui. Asui had learned how to cloak herself invisible before the license exam and he could remember the girls all giggling and congratulating her on what had almost been an Ultimate Move all on its own.Leaves rustled as a small wind came through. Ojiro looked up at the sky and the sun and decided to take a moment to bask in the warmth.He heard a soft creaking noise; when he looked over, he saw Mashirao sitting down on a nearby branch, his own tail wrapped around the base of the tree. It looked like he was taking a moment of his own.It was, really, the first time since he had been here that he even had a moment like this. It was almost relaxing; the sun and the trees and the smell of grass; it reminded him of the walk between the dorms and the main class building and of the small get-togethers 1-A would have outside on the weekends. He had never been particularly big on playing the games that the others did, but he had enjoyed watching the more rambunctious ones play quirk-powered volleyball or baseball. Once, someone had the idea to play frisbee – it might have been Ashido to suggest it – only they had lost over a dozen of Yaomomo-created disks to rooftops somewhere in the surrounding city.Ojiro couldn’t help but smile a bit at the memory.What would the others be doing here in his place? If they had been here instead of him? He could almost hear Midoriya analyzing everything and mumbling about every minor little thing he noticed, Shoji and Tokoyami both quietly biding their time, Jiro planning an escape despite the metal device in her chest, Todoroki’s quiet fury, and Uraraka’s fierce determination despite everything. Would they have acted better and smarter that he did, just like they had all done when villains had attacked them in the forest? Or at the license exam?Everything just seemed to be so wrong, here. He felt like he was at his wits end half of the time, that everything was just so bad that there was no way to get through it…
“The first thing you say is, “What? This is bad!”?! That’s no good! You need to be better than that!”
Why was he thinking about the license exam right now? About that actor that played a small child and yelled at them all for acting like idiots? Still, the words that had struck him then came back now. The words tumbled out of his mind slightly out of order.
“In order to save people, heroes need to do many things. Above all, you need to remain calm. You’re the one who’s supposed to calm everyone else down! We’re all scared and hurt and terrified out of our minds. Look around you and pay attention! Be better!”
Ojiro knew that his job, at least while he was here, was strictly to stay alive. There were no Pro Heroes here at hand to call on, but he knew – he had faith – that there were people back home working hard to get here to help him.What would the others say if they saw him like this? Lately, he had been so miserable and homesick that he felt, sometimes, hollow. What would his classmates say? Aizawa would probably yell at him to get his act together and All Might would –…What would All Might say? To stay strong? To do his best? ‘Try not to die’ came to mind, but it felt so out of character that he couldn’t help but smile.“You look like you’re thinking about something nice.” Mashirao interrupted his train of thought.“A little bit.” Well, now Ojiro felt a little embarrassed. He rubbed the back of his neck.He couldn’t give up, here. The others would never forgive him if he did.“You two know that they do this on purpose, right?” That came from down below.Hitoshi stood there, staring up at them blankly and unamused. It was, quite possibly, the closest thing to a happy expression that Ojiro had seen on his face since he had met him.“They’re doing this on purpose.” Hitoshi continued before they could ask what he was talking about. “Letting us outside to see and touch grass and trees. It reminds us of back home, makes us want to get through their stupid program to get back to a house.”“That does make sense,” Mashirao mused. “But still…”Ojiro could see where his train of thought was going. “I still wouldn’t complain if we got this once in a while, either.”“You’re both hopeless.” Hitoshi sighed. Then, he stood there, almost awkwardly. Was he waiting for them to get down?A glance was shared with Mashirao. They both had the same brow raised to the other.“Hey, Hitoshi…?” Ojiro finally began to pry the mannequins apart. “We found three dummies up here. Do you want one?”“Uhm, yes.” Hitoshi looked visibly startled. “Yes. Please. Thank you.”Ojiro chuckled to himself – he could hear Mashirao doing the same – as they brought down the mannequins.There wasn’t really much to do after that but head back to the main area. They had only been gone for, at best, forty-five minutes. Ojiro was pleasantly surprised to find that quite a few of their hundred-strong class had beaten them back, looking relaxed as they sat in the grassy clearing around the building.Even Ken-sensei looked happy, smiling pleasantly – finally resembling Cementoss back home – as they handed in the small bodies.“Oh. The cloaked ones. I was wondering who would find those.” Ken-sensei gave them a genuine smile. “Good job. Do what you will until the rest come in.”They were allowed to relax? No strings attached? They shared an incredulous look before taking a seat under some shade.It was less than ten minutes later when Ibara came out of the forest. She looked warmer and happier than Ojiro had ever seen her before – at least, this version of her. She looked like she had been given new life, vine hair wrapped around a body almost twice her size.Inasa came in not too long after that, followed by three other teenagers. It looked like they were riding on a wind current, each holding a mannequin. Ojiro could only guess that they had either stumbled across each other out in the forest and had randomly decided to team up, or part of them had found all four dummies and had decided to share.It looked like there was a lot of teamwork and sharing going around. Ojiro was honestly surprised to see it allowed, especially after he had gotten his nose broken for trying to help his mirror image.What was the difference, here? Why was teamwork allowed to bring in these mannequins? Was it because they were hunting for the equivalent of fake children? Would it be something they would be tasked with one day, to hunt down escapees?Then Neito came in and everything shifted.A smug grin was splayed across his face – the first time Ojiro had seen that expression since before he came to this universe – and over shoulders enlarged from some kind of quirk he had copied were five dummies.What was he thinking?!“What the fuck?!” Someone not from their group yelled. People had noticed.Neito dropped all five of the mannequins down at Ken-sensei’s feet. Then, he stood there and waited.It took a second. The smile on their instructor’s face had faded in to shock. Then, he burst out in to loud, delighted laughter. “Score wiped! Well done!”“He only needed three…” Ibara sputtered.“He didn’t even have that many points to begin with!” Inasa’s face had gone red from rage.Neito turned to look at them. He gave a wave, that grin still on his face. Then, he sat down by himself. At least he knew better than to try to join them.Ojiro looked around at the rest of their classmates. The same shock and anger were all around them, aimed at the blonde grinning up at the sun.Neito had essentially just murdered four people and he didn’t seem to care.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

The next few days went pretty much how Ojiro thought that it would. Things had more or less gone back to what counted as normal around here pretty quickly. The schedule returned to the usual daily anxiety-fueled grind and, except for meal times becoming significantly more tense, things were almost… Calm. Maybe he was starting to get used to things; at least, things felt like they were easier and the classwork – what counted as classwork, so different from the way things were back home – wasn’t nearly as rough as it had been. There wasn’t as much stiffness or pain while he held a needle and his brain didn’t hurt as much when he tried to focus in the more familiar reading and writing courses. It could have been thanks to the stretching and calming techniques he had learned at U.A. that he applied in the brief walk between the different classrooms. Still, he couldn’t really be sure. He didn’t know if anyone else was getting used to this. There hadn’t been much opportunity to ask. It wasn’t as if they were given the time to socialize. Three days after that special exam in the woods and afternoon combat training had so far been going slightly better than it usually did. People here weren’t as intense as they had been at the start; it wasn’t the same ferocity Ojiro remembered from the first couple of weeks – the kind that reminded him of the U.A. entrance exam – where everybody wanted to prove what they had and to show off what they were worth. He could only guess that people were getting tired. He was getting tired. At the very least, his randomly chosen opponents weren’t quite so hard on him. He was, he guessed, seen as an equal. No one here had any reason to dislike him. The same couldn’t be said about other people. A loud, angry yell came from deeper in the massive gymnasium. It was so sudden and so forceful that Ojiro found himself stopping purely on reflex. Thankfully, he was currently paired with Ibara and, despite her lack of experience in anything related to Hero Studies, she stopped as well. It was for the best; she had been sending him to the ground more than he had her. Honestly, it was a little embarrassing. Ojiro frowned to himself at the sight that met him. A large, burly teenager – no mystery what quirk that guy had, with the way his skin looked like a brick wall – had slammed Neito clear in to the ground. The twisted version of Cementoss in this universe barely held the teenager back from beating the hell out of his target. On the ground, Neito was not moving, but he was looking up without a hint of fear. Was he smiling? It was difficult to tell from here, but it almost looked like he was. But that couldn’t be possible. Neito couldn’t be that much of an idiot, to keep antagonizing someone like that.

The boy made of bricks didn’t stop, arms flailing and red brick fists clenched, until he accidentally punched their instructor. The look of shock and horror that crossed that face, where red was fading back to a natural skin tone, caused Ojiro to wince a little to himself. But by then it was too late; Ken-sensei was visibly annoyed and said something that caused the red-brick boy to visibly recoil.

The scoreboard above their heads flashed briefly and added a solid point to his score.

It had been like this ever since that exam. Every time Neito had been paired with anyone, they were seemingly engulfed in pure rage and couldn’t stop themselves from trying to murder him.

“He had to know that this was coming.” Ibara frowned with clear anger as she watched the spectacle. “Had he only brought back three of those bodies, his avarice could have been forgiven. But five was…” Her hair physically bristled as she recoiled in disgust. “Obscene.”

She hadn’t spoken to Neito at meal times in three days. None of them had. It was the longest piece of commentary he had heard from her yet.

“Yeah, I don’t understand it, either.” Ojiro frowned. “What does he think he’s doing? Is he trying to get himself killed?”

Ibara let out a slow breath as she got in to position for another round. “I suppose suicide would be difficult in this place any other way. But that, too, is a sin.” She paused. “Though, he doesn’t seem the type.”

He wasn’t sure what to say to that. So, he didn’t.

Ojiro took one last glance in Neito’s direction. The blonde stumbled to his feet, smiling as if everything was perfectly fine, and dusted himself of. Then, he looked up, somehow found him in what must have been a sea of glaring and angry people, and gave him a friendly wave.

That had clearly been to annoy him. Maybe Neito expected him to charge at him in the same way a few others had over the past couple of days. Ojiro decided to ignore it; instead, he turned back to Ibara, wiped some sweat from his brow, and readied himself for another match.

When dinner rolled around, Neito sat down at his usual assigned seat with a massive bruise over the left side of his face. Still, that smug grin was plastered there as if it didn’t matter at all.

Of the hundred of them that had been tossed in to the forest that day, nine people had failed. Two others had each brought back three mannequins a piece, four alone failed from whatever it was Neito thought he was doing, and one dummy had never been found.

Of those nine, seven of them were gone by the next class. Their seats weren’t filled in with shuffled students to fill the gaps; instead, they were just left empty. The plates filled with food that always waited for them at meal times were not set at their places. They were like little blank tombstones. Some of the people sitting around those empty spots had cried that dinner after the exam.

It wasn’t all Neito’s fault, all of those missing people, but that didn’t seem to stop anyone from acting as if it was.

Ojiro didn’t think that they were allowed to move to a different spot. No one had tried or even suggested it. He himself thought that it was a little too risky, considering the people in charge. Instead, Inasa and Ibara on either side scooted as far away as they could from Neito’s seat. The people they nearly bumped in to didn’t complain.

The past few days had been tense and silent. Glares from almost everyone came and Ojiro could admit that he had sent a few himself when he wasn’t quietly eating. There wasn’t much to say; everyone was upset and it didn’t help that Neito just kept that grin on his face.

Monoma hadn’t been this bad back home, had he? He had never spoken to him much, but he couldn’t have been this cold and uncaring. A little bit on the mocking side, sure, blaring noisy insults aimed at 1-A to anyone that would listen, but certainly not like this.

“I hope you’re happy with yourself.” Ibara said to him for the first time in days, cold.

“Oh, I very much am.” Neito grinned at her. “Now there’s less competition. You’re welcome.”

Ojiro wasn’t the only one to stop eating. He dropped his fork and leaned back against his own tail to stare with the pure incredulity that he could almost touch; with a quick glance, he saw Mashirao pinching the bridge of his nose, his own tail twitching angrily. Hitoshi’s usually bloodshot eyes widened in time to a sharp inhale; he looked ready to commit a murder.

“Seven people died.” Inasa hissed; he clutched a butter knife in one hand so strongly that, for a moment, Ojiro was afraid that he might actually stab Neito with it.

“Yes. Yes, they did.” Neito answered calmly; he was still eating the cuts of meat that was probably – hopefully – beef on his plate. “And that’s going to keep happening. I’m sorry, did you not hear Ken-sensei when he told us about the whole demerit system?”

“But you don’t have to be this cruel about it.” Ojiro found himself staring. He couldn’t tell of Neito was bragging or if he just did not care enough not to talk about what had happened. From the corner of his vision, he noticed one of Ibara’s vines weave itself behind Neito’s back, grab the hand Inasa was holding the knife with, and slowly lower it back to the table. Well, there were worse things she could have done just now; probably for the best that she didn’t. “No one would be this upset if you only brought back three of those dummies like the others did.”

“Well, probably not, no,” Neito was still smiling. “But I intend to still be here in five years and none of us are going to be if we don’t start making a mark. If we do just the bare minimum to survive, they’re not going to want to put us in a house.” He finally put his own utensils down, placed his elbows on the table and rested his chin on the top of his hands. That smile on his face almost looked serene. It bordered, after a second, on creepy. “I’ve been watching everything going on around here. Haven’t you been doing the same thing? Haven’t you noticed that everyone that was picked to come here fits a certain type?”

There was a moment of silence. Ojiro could actually feel the suspicion in the air as they all stared at him.

“What are you talking about?” Hitoshi said with a frown.

“Just correct me if I’m wrong.” Neito smiled. “Out of all your brothers and sisters back home, you… And I mean not just you, Hitoshi, everyone here, the general sort of ‘you’… Were in the middle of the pack. Never did anything too flashy, a quirk that was almost useful but not a complete dud either… Never had too big of a personality but not a complete loner, got along well with everyone and helped with the little kids. Average. Could easily fade in to the background and would never complain about it. Boring, even. Just kind of… There. We existed, but barely. We’re forgettable.”

It was painfully disturbing on a number of levels how accurate that was. Ojiro hadn’t even come from this universe, but the amount of times he had been teased for being ‘plain’ or the ‘straight man trope’ couldn’t be counted. Getting accepted in to U.A. had been a brief shining moment that had rejuvenated him, but after that high had worn off, he hadn’t been able to escape the title of ‘most normal person’ in the dorms. The others in 1-A had even made fun of him about it a few times. Though, true, they had never been mean – not intentionally – it had still hurt. He had begun to feel a bit of resentment about it all. Well, before all of this happened.

A glance around showed the exact same disturbed expression on everyone’s faces. Even from people sitting beyond their little group that had very obviously been eavesdropping stared with the same look on their faces.

“Describes you all to a T, right?” Neito said with that same smile. “So then I started thinking about things back home. How Sensei would always smile, was always calm. He never raised his voice about anything. Hell, one of the other kids once accidentally lit the living room on fire and the only thing he did was quietly ground him for a month.” Had that expression turned sad for just a moment, there? “At first, I thought that they wanted us to actually care about children. Well, until they got eaten, anyway. That the combat training was just to make us strong enough to handle endless quirks and to fight off some escape attempts. But then…” Neito looked right at him, eyes glancing between himself and his ‘twin’.

Ojiro felt himself shift in place uncomfortably; he felt Mashirao’s shoulder brush against his own as he probably did the same. There was something intense about that gaze.

“But then,” Neito tilted his head slightly, as if he were musing. “Then you got punished pretty badly just for protecting your brother, so I had to rethink the whole thing. It honestly should have been obvious from the start, but I guess I was in some sort of denial. They want a good Sensei to take care of the kids, yes, but ultimately? To only care about ourselves. To want to survive more than to protect. Us? The kind of people we are? We’re the kind that they can tame. Some of us, I imagine, are the sort that are eager to please authority. We’re fit to mold. But they still want to weed out the less suitable ones. The ones that still might care just a little too much. Just like you’re all so angry at me about for not doing. You see, now? That’s why Ken-sensei was so damn happy about what I did.” He picked up his fork again and began to eat.

There was no sound from anyone else. It was deathly quiet.

The ‘forgettable’ part still hurt. It was also terrifying; would Pro Heroes come in to an alternate reality to rescue someone who was plain, average and forgettable?

Would they just leave him here?

It had been over a month so far. Had he been abandoned? Had they left him here?

No, he had already decided that he wasn’t going to have that kind of doubt. The people back home, they just needed time. That was all. The police and Pros had gone to such lengths for Bakugo, and they were the same age from the same school…

“I refuse to sacrifice my soul for bare survival.” Ibara said with pure venom, but her voice didn’t raise too loud.

“Then you can die with your morals intact.” Neito waved his fork at her playfully.

“How dare you…!” Ibara began; some of her vines began to rise.

Ojiro shared a nervous glance with his ‘twin’; he wasn’t sure what would happen if an actual brawl happened here. Hadn’t they been warned when they first woke up about not picking fights? What kind of punishment would that even receive? “Please, let’s not –”

“I wanted to be a Sensei.” The near whisper that came from Inasa interrupted him.

It was a shock; they all immediately stopped.

“Oh?” And Neito visibly looked surprised as he turned to stare; after a moment, that smile came back. “Really?”

“Why? How?” Hitoshi sputtered.

“I didn’t know that they were eating people…!” Inasa said a little too loud. He looked over his shoulder to see if any of the instructors that randomly roamed around or people at the other tables had overheard; it didn’t look like anyone had. “I just… Looked up to my Sensei. I respected him. He told me there was a school that he went to to train and I asked him…”

“Uh-huh.” Neito smirked. “If you knew then what you know now, would you still have wanted to come here? To have a shot at growing up and having some kind of life?”

Inasa frowned and looked at his half empty plate. “I don’t know.”

“Figure that out, then, and then figure out what to do from there.” Neito shrugged. “But this is the only way we can grow up, and I intend to live to a ripe old age. The rest of you can do what you want, but I’m not going to feel badly about it.”

Ojiro found that he wasn’t very hungry after that.

---------------------

It had been an absolutely stupid thing that happened for no good reason and Aizawa was deeply and thoroughly annoyed.

For the first time in weeks, it had actually been a mostly decent day. There had been no undue shenanigans from any of his students or any of those orphans – zero! None! – and the studies for the upcoming final exams were going fairly well. The entrance exam for the next year’s crop was, for the time being, out of his hands and he was actually glad for it.

In fact, there had been enough time and energy to go out on a patrol. The first real patrol in over a month. It had been a quick thing, just in the areas around U.A. It wasn’t even a long run; enough to catch one pickpocket, a thief that had run off with someone’s purse, some middle-aged woman that had decided to abandon a puppy – which, okay, wasn’t as illegal as the other stuff, but was highly frowned upon and had at least deserved a lecture – and one idiot that had been trying to break in through the window of a bank. Banks didn’t even leave their money around like that for people to steal, and that two-bit thief hadn’t had anything on him to break in to a safe or a powerful enough quirk to do the job, so Aizawa had very little idea why that punk had gone through the effort.

By the time he was done and had checked his phone by the flashing lights of police vehicles, there were no less than eleven messages and six missed calls waiting. None of them had called his emergency line – the only thing that would have gotten through – but he immediately suspected that knew what it was about.

So, he rushed back to his U.A. on-campus apartment. He was not surprised, but was exasperated, by what he found.

The internet had gone out at some point while he was gone. It had probably just been for a moment – the router had probably lost connection to the hub – but when it had reconnected, it had connected to everything automatically. Including the things that he had very purposefully left offline. In the process, it had come across his little genetic test and had, as per Crimson’s Law, had immediately sent out a notice to every Pro Hero that had been flagged as a match.

Years ago, when Crimson Riot had been one of the top Pro Heroes – back far enough that All Might had still been making a name for himself at the time – a group of villains had decided to try to clone the Number One Pro to make an ‘evil’ version of him. Investigations after the fact showed that the villains had intended to brainwash the clone in some manner. They had almost, kind of, succeeded.

The first problem had been that no one can clone experiences or memories. Despite what science fiction claimed, the human brain simply did not work like that. The double of Crimson Riot had been naïve and gullible and, most importantly, childlike; he had known nothing of how to fight. As later movies and documentaries based on the incident told, eventually the clone had figured out on his own what had happened and Crimson Riot himself had helped him escape. Hell, the Pro Hero had even set a precedent about getting official legal identification for people from such bizarre situations; it set the groundwork for how Nezu became a citizen. It would help the orphans join society as well.

Aizawa had only bothered to learn about that bit of history strictly because it mattered so much to so many aspects of hero work; over the years that followed, so many idiot villain groups had tried to clone so many Pro Heroes – All Might alone had four separate incidents – that it had all but forced the government to make that DNA database that he had used to test against the orphans in the first place.

And now the stupid internet had gone out, came back and told all of those Pro Heroes that they might have been cloned. Fantastic.

With a groan, he glanced at message after message and listened to a couple of voice calls on the comfort of his couch. Great, now they were all going to have questions and, by the morning, he’d be expected to have something for them…

Though, an idea struck along the way. This might not be too terrible a thing.

It was the middle of the night and he likely wouldn’t get a response from all of them, but a request for a group video conference was sent. They’d all send back a time that worked for them, and within a day or two, he’d have them all on one handy screen to explain what exactly was going on.

He didn’t look particularly forward to it. He had never been good at speeches. The police usually handed that sort of thing, the Kamino incident notwithstanding.

The call happened sooner than he expected.

The following day, after classes wrapped up, his phone reminded him of the agreed upon time. So, Aizawa set aside grading homework for later, headed back to his apartment, and had everything set up within seconds.

Eight squares popped up on screen, Brady Bunch-esque, though the left corner remained blank. The one next to it showed off Ectoplasm and Cementoss having apparently decided to call from the same room instead of separately. It looked like they were in one of the teachers’ lounges. The latter of the two looked like he had a mug of unseasonable hot chocolate topped with giant marshmallows. Aizawa couldn’t help but roll his eyes.

The other six incoming calls came from across the country. Hawks was currently stationed somewhere in Kyoto. Endeavor and the majority of the Iida family were both in different parts of Tokyo, though both screens appeared to be calling in from their usual offices. Aizawa wasn’t entirely sure where Edgeshot was but judging by the latency count below his image, he might not have even been in Japan at all. Mandalay and Ragdoll were out of their usual uniforms in one screen, though it looked like both of them were lounging on a couch in someone’s home. Best Jeanist, still looking exhausted from his recovery from the Kamino incident, was for some reason in uniform despite that he could not have been cleared for active duty yet.

This was going to be fun.

“Holy shit.” Hawks laughed. “What idiot decided to clone this many top Pros?”

Aizawa wasn’t the only one to roll his eyes at the rather unorthodox start to what amounted to a business-related conference call. “First of all, thank you all for interrupting your schedules to make time for this. I’m sure you’ve all been very busy, especially considering All Might’s retirement.”

“Eraser, how bad is it?” Endeavor didn’t look like he was in the mood to wait on pleasantries. Though, when had he ever been?

Well, might as well get to the point, then. “First, I would like to make very, very clear that anything said in this call is not to leave it.” Aizawa took a breath as he glanced from screen to screen. “This is premier-level confidentiality. The general public is not to be aware or informed of anything that we’re to talk about.”

There was a moment of surprise. But there was also visible intrigue.

“How bad is this?” The current patriarch of the Iida household, though, looked a little nervous.

“A little over a month ago, and none of this is exaggerated, a portal from another universe opened up on U.A. grounds. From it came over fifty children, none older than the age of sixteen, who by all means were literally running for their lives.” At that, Aizawa paused. He had the feeling that they would need a moment to digest that.

He wasn’t wrong; the stunned surprise flew on just about everyone – except for Ectoplasm, who looked terribly amused, and Cementoss, who just took a quiet sip of his hot chocolate.

“What?” That came, after a solid fifteen seconds, from Jeanist.

“An alternate universe? An actual alternate universe?” Ragdoll looked so excited that she was actually vibrating a little. Mandalay put a hand on her shoulder, but she looked bemused.

Hawks said nothing but looked far too happy. On the screen next to him, Endeavor looked more confused than Aizawa had ever seen him before.

“And we were flagged by Crimson’s Law because…?” Edgeshot had his mask on, but his brows furrowed in confusion.

“I’m getting to that.” Aizawa suddenly wished he had thought ahead to get a glass of water. Maybe Cementoss had the right idea. “Quite a number of the children are… Let’s say that they’re very, very familiar. But I wanted to make certain that they were who they were. Some of them are what we’d call alternate versions of students here at U.A. and have already met their, well, themselves.”

“Wait a sec.” Hawks still looked far too giddy. “Are you telling us that alternate versions of ourselves in another dimension had kids and now they’re here and that’s how we got flagged?”

“Pretty much.” Aizawa sighed. “There are some discrepancies.”

“Uhm…” The smile on Cementoss’s face suddenly faded in to the same confusion on half the screen. “We all came up as matches?”

“Yes. Again, with discrepancies.” Aizawa glanced over at his own notes. “Some of the children came up as related, but through a method that shouldn’t exist. Ectoplasm, one child came up as your cousin through an aunt that doesn’t exist in this universe. Another is technically of the Iida family line, but their mother is a daughter that was never born. Some, though, are directly related to some of you as children.”

“This is amazing.” Hawks half whispered, half cackled.

“So this is a non-issue.” Endeavor frowned, still looking confused. “These are children that aren’t technically related to us.”

“Essentially, yes, that is the case.” Aizawa gave a small nod. “Though, that being said, none of them have parents. They are all, in every aspect, orphans that escaped from a very, very dangerous situation. Which actually leads me to another issue.”

“Wait.” Ragdoll piped up. “Are we able to meet them? These children that are kind of related to us?”

“What?” Aizawa blinked; he had not expected that.

“I have to admit, I’m similarly intrigued.” Edgeshot glanced sideways, likely glancing at one of the other screens on his end. “I have no children as of yet, but I’ve always wondered what one of my own might be like.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s a universal thing that everyone tries to imagine.” Best Jeanist said a little faintly.

“I wanna see the kids.” Hawks said with a grin that Aizawa was tempted to call ‘shit-eating’.

“I suppose we can schedule a meet-and-greet of sorts.” Still, this felt a little odd. “But, again, there is another issue. When the portal opened, and I have to state again that these children were escaping, someone on the other end made attempts to recapture them. In the process, they successfully recaptured one of the children from that world as well as a student from U.A.”

“Ah.” Endeavor sat straighter in his seat. “We now get to the heart of the issue.”

“Wait, a student from U.A. was kidnapped?” Mandalay had clear concern in her eyes.

“Again?” Ragdoll added with an audible whimper.

“Who was taken?” Hawks sat up suddenly with a penetrating stare.

“No one that any of you had mentored.” Aizawa frowned. “But his name is Ojiro Mashirao. He’s a student from 1-A.”

“Ah. The tail kid.” Best Jeanist nodded from his screen. “The boy that forfeit his spot at the Sports Festival and had a few others follow his lead. A lot of people were talking about that.”

“A young man with honor trapped in some alternate universe?” The Iida patriarch frowned deeply. “For over a month?”

“It isn’t an ideal situation, I agree. Still, we are in the process of making a portal able to get there from our end.” Aizawa took a breath. “The things that inhabit the other world have already successfully came in to ours at least once. Their technology appears to be ahead of ours. We have no confirmed second entry, however.”

“Define ‘things’.” The Iida matriarch frowned.

“The orphans have been calling them ‘demons’.”

There was a small pause.

“That sounds wonderful.” Hawks said with no lack of sarcasm.

Aizawa dignified the response with a wordless hum. “One corpse of these so-called demons has already been sent to I-Island for study. We have yet to receive a response or an autopsy report.”

“How far ahead is the completion of this portal machine?” Edgeshot looked visibly intrigued.

“We’re, at best, two weeks out.”

“Do we know anything about this other world? Or where your student was taken and why?” Endeavor had found his way out of the confusion of the whole ‘children from an alternate universe’ thing, at least. “Is he even still alive to extract?”

“We know almost nothing about that other world.” Aizawa sighed. “But we have a tracking device that should work when we get there and a fairly positive outlook for Ojiro’s survival.”

“Let me see if I understand this.” Best Jeanist peered at him from his screen. “You’re asking if any of us would be willing to go in to an alternate universe, to a place where things called ‘demons’ apparently lurk and I presume have all of humanity conquered in some manner considering these children, you tell us, ‘escaped’, and to essentially invade who-knows-where to rescue one person?”

“If it matters,” And, at this point, Aizawa didn’t think it could hurt to add what little they knew. “These ‘demons’ also apparently eat people and absorb their quirks in the process. The children that escaped were being raised as livestock for consumption.”

That earned a solid ten seconds of silence.

“I’m in.” Hawks said with an eager grin.

“What?” Endeavor balked.

“Think about it.” Hawks looked like he was ready to bounce in his seat like a toddler. “We’d be the first Pro Heroes… The first anybody… To perform a multi-dimensional rescue op. Cameras won’t follow us, sure, but we’d never, ever get an opportunity like this ever again. Not to be the first to do it, anyway.” Then, he actually did bounce in place. “Come on, it’s an alternate universe!”

Another moment passed as Hawks’ words seemed to hit their mark.

“We’re still some weeks out.” Edgeshot mused. “But if there are no other extenuating circumstances, I’ll be glad to offer my assistance.”

“Regrettably, I’m not sure if I’ll have the stamina.” Best Jeanist actually looked disappointed.

“Same here.” Ragdoll frowned.

“Can we talk to other Pro Heroes or is this strictly confidential between us?” Mandalay asked with a small smirk. She looked like she was planning something.

“By all means, as long as it’s kept only between respectable Pros in good standing.” Aizawa gave a small nod. “I had permission to ask who I saw fit, I see no reason why you can’t do the same.”

The members of the Iida family looked between themselves but said nothing.

Endeavor, as well, remained silent, but a thoughtful expression remained on his face.

This entire meeting had honestly gone better than Aizawa had expected.

----------------

In hindsight, Aizawa should have been a little bit more specific about the ‘call other Pro Heroes’ thing. So, really, this whole thing was technically his own fault.

It was only a couple of days more before the children – all of the children – were ready. The ones related to each other were told about it, they were given enough time to come to grips with it, and then they were warned about the incoming visitors. That Pro Heroes that, by all means, technically shared blood and wanted to meet them.

He had only anticipated the Pros from the video conference to show up. He had not expected what amounted to a small parade.

Between the no less than fifteen full-costumed Pros that showed up, the majority of U.A. hearing about the visitors and trying to slyly sneak in, and the children that were actually supposed to be there, the secondary courtyard – not the one the portal had opened up in – was chock full of people. Packed, really. It looked very much like a convention.

Aizawa looked over it all with only a little bit of annoyance. Why in the world did the Pros show up fully uniformed? Most of the orphans barely even understood what that meant. Were they just trying to show off? Never mind that he was always in uniform, that was not the same thing. He worked here.

Still, everyone looked just a little bit too happy for him to really be angry about it. It was a happy little break from the stress everyone had been under.

Though, he kept his eye on Endeavor. In the distance, the current number one Pro Hero’s actual son was with his alternate self. The Shoto with the numbers on his neck held the little boy in his arms who had only recently found out was genetically his brother.

Overall, all of the orphans had handled the new discoveries fairly well; they had already grown up with each other and, blood or not, still considered each other siblings. Blood had made no difference to them as far as he could tell. It was touching, really, though he’d never admit it out loud.

He couldn’t hear what Endeavor was saying from here, but there was some sort of tense conversation going on. Both of the Shotos had the same narrow-eyed suspicion on their faces. One must have told the other about his relationship with his father; technically, though, it wasn’t his business to bother with. If either of those boys would be upset later, though, then it would be his problem.

A little further away, most of 1-A and the older orphans were watching the exchange with similar intensity. It looked like everyone was, on some level, aware of the same issue he was. Had Shoto Todoroki actually shared his life experiences with them? Had he actually told friends about his life? A small miracle, that. He was growing up.

Amongst the crowd of students, he spotted what he first thought was Bakugo but quickly decided that it was Katsuki. Both versions of Hagakure were on either side of him and it looked like they were having a full conversation. When did those three start getting together? Huh.

All of the Wild Wild Pussycats were present. Even Tiger had shown up in his full uniform, which somehow startled none of the children. In fact, several boys were around him, faces moving with what must have been excited rapid-fire questions. Ragdoll and Pixie Bob watched with joy, costumed paws entwined, as Mandalay looked like she was trying to corral the group of children. It was no secret that Tiger didn’t have that great of a fanbase, particularly in the coveted ‘boys aged 5-12’ market. This must have been a treat for them.

Most of the Iida family had shown up, and at least Tenya looked like he was having a wonderful time. Half of the other students in 1-A had been loudly introduced to his parents and brother before little Manami had joined in and had stolen the conversation.

It wasn’t until he spotted Cementoss talking to a little boy that was technically his son – a pale, gray-haired kid that could create white marble similarly to how Ken did with cement – that Aizawa thought that maybe, maybe this had been a terrible mistake.

In hindsight, he should not have mentioned the ‘orphan’ thing. He probably shouldn’t have even allowed this meeting to happen. Some of these Pros were going to fall in love with these children and actually want to adopt them, and then everyone else was going to be upset.

Damnit.

Then, he heard a small scream; a little, pitched wail. Aizawa turned to find one of the smaller orphans – that little sheep girl again, Pony Tsunotori’s half-sister in another world – staring at Edgeshot. So far, every time he saw her, she cried about something. A few other children were around her; most of them looked curious and, this time, paid her no mind. Maybe she was a kid that just cried a lot.

Edgeshot gave the kids in front of him a happy wave with one hand.

The little lamb screamed again, louder this time, and ran away. She bumped in to, of all people, Gang Orca – who wasn’t even supposed to be here -- and Aizawa braced himself for that girl to just start blubbering or wailing again.

Instead, she latched on to one of his legs with a very loud cry of, “Panda!”

Gang Orca didn’t move. He just blinked down at her. “I’m going to accept this as a compliment.”

Edgeshot had never looked more insulted.

Over his shoulder, Aizawa heard the ‘click’ of a phone’s camera. He turned, expecting one of his own students and was ready to chastise them, but found Best Jeanist holding up his phone instead.

Yup. Someone was going to get adopted at the end of this, and it was going to cause no end of trouble.

Though, now that everyone was laughing and carefree and talking to each other, he might as well get one more thing done. He found Present Mic amongst the crowd – with a tiny braid in his hair and he just knew that Mic had sat long enough to let one of the little girls put that in – and got his attention with a tap to the shoulder. “I think it’s time.”

Present Mic gasped with absolute delight. Then, he gently pushed a couple of children a bit further away before screaming over their heads, “Hey, everybody! We got an announcement!”

It did the job; everybody turned to look in their direction.

Aizawa opened his mouth, but Mic was looking at him. He rolled his eyes. “Go ahead. You tell them.”

Hizashi had been acting like this ever since the staff meeting in the main conference room. When he had told the faculty the finer details of what needed to be said, he may as well have told Mic that Christmas had come early.

“We got some good news!” Present Mic kept on screaming; several children covered their ears and moved further away. “We finally got official paperwork, social security numbers and ID’s for everybody, so now you can all go to real schools!”

‘Real’ schools. Nice, Mic. Aizawa rolled his eyes. He heard a few chuckles go around.

“But most importantly…!” Present Mic looked ready to explode from sheer happiness. “All of you kids from the other place have new last names! They’re temporary, so you can change them later if you want, but I hope you don’t, ‘cause it’s Yamada!”

In the distance, Cementoss broke out in to a greatly amused grin. Hawks flat burst out laughing.

An unsure clatter went through the children.

“Let me explain.” Aizawa rolled his eyes. “Children abandoned without last names are very, very rare. Unheard of, almost. But ‘Yamada’ is one of the most common surnames here, and often given to those that can’t be immediately identified.”

“And it’s my last name, too!” Present Mic was still far too excited.

Back in the break room, Hizashi had asked if he could claim all the new Yamada children on his tax forms. Aizawa still wasn’t certain if he had been joking or not.

“But, again, it’s temporary for now. A placeholder for legal purposes.” Aizawa looked around the assembled people; it took a moment to find the Todorokis again. The Shoto from that other universe still had his little brother in his arms. “And, no, we’re not going to approve ‘Nanashi’ or any variation of ‘nameless’ as a name.”

Shoto’s shoulders slumped in visible disappointment. A few more chuckles went around the area.

“Mostly, we wanted to make sure you all, at least for now, had the same surname.” Aizawa let out a sigh as several someones let out ‘aww’s. “That’s the end of the announcement, though.”

With that, a new reason to be excited rippled through the children.

--------------

“You need to stop moving like that. It leaves you wide open to a counterattack.” Ojiro kept his voice low and conversational; he didn’t want anyone else to overhear. What he didn’t mind anyone else seeing, though, was his hand out to help his ‘brother’ back to his feet.

Mashirao took the hand, as he always did, to get back up. Though, he let out a dejected sigh instead of the usual follow-up questions. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to turn like you can, though.”

Ojiro frowned; his counterpart was being more self-deprecating than usual. Was this how he was, himself? “I use my tail as a counterweight when I turn, you can do the same thing.”

“Know where my center of balance is. I know. You told me.” Mashirao tried, at least; Ojiro could see him at least attempt to get in to a better position.

“Center of gravity.” He had to correct.

The mirror image of his own face let out a deep sigh. Then, he got in to position for another round; only he was already on the defensive, legs in the wrong position and tail broadcasting how he intended to move.

It was pretty much just another day. They didn’t get paired up like this often; a computer projection on the wall randomly chose pairs out of the ninety-three students that were left and the odds of just the two of them was simply not likely. Ojiro doubted it was intentional; if it was, he doubted they’d ever get paired up at all.

He learned from the last time, though. He didn’t let his lookalike win anymore.

The next time he got Mashirao to the floor, his ‘twin’ let out a grunt. This time, Ojiro had made sure to use anything other than his tail to do it, if only to show him that it could be done. He had flipped him over his own shoulder to get it done, but it worked.

Ojiro looked down at Mashirao as he lay there for a moment. “Someone once told me that I move the way I do because I have a tail instead of working with it.” He didn’t say who told it to him; never knew who was listening in. “Maybe you should try fighting without it.”

“Thanks.” Mashirao picked himself off the floor this time and stretched his arms. “But I don’t think you should be giving me advice anymore.”

Ojiro stopped in surprise. Then, he sighed. “Is this about what Neito said?”

“What if he’s right?” Now, Mashirao was stretching his legs; the longer he stalled, the more likely he’d get a demerit for it. “That we need to start thinking about just ourselves?”

Why did this feel like he was being rejected? Or like he was losing something? Still, Ojiro couldn’t exactly force this version of his own self to do anything he didn’t want to do. “If that’s what you want, I guess.”

Mashirao must have noticed the look on his face. “I didn’t mean it like –”

A soft bell chime went through the air. Time to switch partners.

Ojiro didn’t know what to say right then and there, so he looked to the board.

Later, he decided, when dinner came around, he’d have to talk to him.

It was fine, really, wasn’t it? Really, it gave him one less thing to worry about. If Neito actually had been right, then wouldn’t this work in his favor? To let him just get through the day without having to think about anyone else? Technically, he barely even knew the boy that had his own face.

Then why did it hurt a little?

It was the last sparring class of the day and there were only two more pairings left anyway. He wouldn’t have to wait long to talk to his ‘brother’ again.

The final bell came not too long afterwards. Nearly a hundred bodies let out almost identical relieved breaths; Ojiro let himself relax. The end of these days was the only real bright part to them. He didn’t think he was as tired as everyone else – U.A. had prepared him for worse, he thought – but he still took what enjoyment he could from just relaxing after it all.

They filed out in the same order they always did; neat and orderly and based on their numbers. Ojiro thought that the numbers themselves must have been based on birth order, but something about that didn’t feel right.

He was almost out the door when their instructor shoved his hand in front of the line. Ojiro hadn’t been at the front, but the person that was stopped with such sudden terror that it did the job. Every single person behind the unlucky teenager came to a complete stop.

“I almost forgot.” Ken-sensei removed his arm, but no one moved. “56455-B, Ojiro, I need you to stay behind a moment.”

Ojiro felt his throat clench. What?! Why?! No one had ever been asked to stay behind from an instructor in any other class before.

There was absolutely no way that this could be good. A hand touched his arm for a moment and he turned to see a wide-eyed Mashirao. Behind him, Hitoshi and Ibara looked similarly frightened. Behind them, people he didn’t even know, people he had never said a single word to, looked nervous.

Ojiro didn’t say anything. He wasn’t sure what he could say if he could even find his voice. What would he even tell them? It was fine? It was going to be fine? He’d see them in a few minutes?

Would he, though?

Suddenly feeling cold and clammy, he quietly stepped out of line.

He didn’t move or say anything at all until the door closed behind the last student.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“We’ve gone over this before, but by now you should all be aware that your education is being advanced at a pace quicker than what’s typical for first year students.” Aizawa started class off one morning with his usual gruff demeanor. “Which is why, for today, we’re going to have a practice lesson usually reserved for the second years.”

All at once, the entirety of 1-A moved with identical interest; eyes widened, excited grins crossed a few faces, and the anticipation floated over their heads. Despite his seat at the front of the class, Ojiro could hear the whispers; he couldn’t help but grin at the barely repressed squealing coming from both Hagakure and Ashido.

“We’re going to go over hostage negotiation.”

And just like that, the excitement deflated. Well, true, it didn’t sound nearly as exciting as what typically interrupted class; it certainly wasn’t the fanfare involved with coming up with Ultimate Moves. But the way that all sound stopped struck Ojiro as at least a little but funny.

“Hostage negotiation?” Ashido broke the silence with loud disappointed confusion.

“Negotiating the release of innocent civilians from the grasp of villains is one of the most important things that a Pro Hero should know!” Iida came quick to their teachers’ defense. His arm went through the air for emphasis. “The fact that U.A. is teaching us such vital information so early on shouldn’t be disregarded!”

“Quiet, please.” Aizawa let out a tired sigh. “The lesson today will be two-fold. First, you’ll take turns between being the hostage taker and the role of the Pro Hero doing the negotiating. I might have some of you pretend to be hostages. After that, you’ll be up against robots with basic AI and some script points that can go in many different directions to, again, negotiate for the release of imaginary civilians. I implore you, though, that when you’re pretending to be villains, to put as much in to it as you can.”

Some of the class would have no problems with that. Ojiro quietly prayed to whatever gods might be listening to not be up against Iida; their class rep tended to put a bit too much in to it. It was a little frightening sometimes. Amazing, awe-inspiring, but terrifying.

“Sensei?” Asui raised her hand in the air; at a slight nod, she lowered it. “Why are we pretending to be villains?”

“To get in to the mindset.” Aizawa frowned slightly. But then, when was he not frowning? Had he seen Aizawa-sensei smile once this entire semester? “For the lot of you, protecting people almost comes naturally. But trying to get in to the minds of people you’ll one day be up against is just as vitally important. You’ll have to anticipate how they think. But before we get in to that, I want to go over some basic tenets of negotiation. Let’s say, for example, that there is a powerful villain with a deadly and dangerous quirk who has, let’s say, twenty hostages. You’re called in to handle this situation. What do you do?”

Ojiro was certain that everyone in class had at least some kind of idea; he thought he knew at least the basic underlying concepts from movies alone, but he couldn’t quite put it all together in to a coherent sentence. At least, not one that didn’t sound embarrassing to say aloud even in his own head. So, he stayed silent, curious about what the rest of the class might say.

A moment of silence passed. A few hands went in to the air.

Aizawa stared at them all deadpan. “No, overpowering the villain is not an option. You actually will have to talk to them.”

Almost every hand went back down. One did not.

“Uraraka?” Aizawa blinked with surprise.

“Can we, uhm, appeal to them?” Uraraka bit her bottom lip; it was clear she wasn’t certain if she was using the right words. “Ask them why they’re doing this and try to empathize?”

“Not bad.” A small nod from their perpetually exhausted teacher. “Finding common ground is a tactic used pretty frequently.”

Another hand went up.

“Yaoyorozu?”

“There’s guides on proper hostage negotiation.” Yaoyorozu said softly. “To build a rapport with the villain, to treat them with respect in order for them to remain calm, proper speech patterns to maintain order…”

“Yes, yes. All of that is very good.” Aizawa gave a small nod. “Treating your enemy with cordial respect, especially those that may simply be desperate, can take you far to obtain the safe release of the hostages. Anything else?”

Another hand.

“Todoroki?”

“You lie to the villain.”

Ojiro’s chair wasn’t the only one to let out a squeal as he turned to stare at Todoroki; half the class at least were now staring at the boy in the back corner.

Lie to the villain? That sounded like a terrible idea. It sounded like a good way to get people killed.

“Interesting.” Aizawa raised a brow. He wasn’t shutting down the suggestion? “Why?”

“Because at that point, it’s not just important to get all those hostages safe, but to get yourself out as well.” Todoroki said it with his usual quiet calm and with no real emotion at all. “Treating the villain with respect so that they listen to you and telling them what they want to hear is the only thing you really need to do. Once you get involved, you end up becoming a hostage too, don’t you? The villain will try to kill you, too, if you’re not careful. It doesn’t matter if you end up making promises you can’t keep along the way, as long as the villain who holds your life in his hands thinks that he’s in control, you can survive.” He paused a moment. “And then you can rescue the hostages.”

It was quiet again.

From his seat at the front, Ojiro blinked with a disturbed sort of confusion; Todoroki had been one of the few that had gone after Bakugo after he had been kidnapped. It was the only event that he could think of that could have given the bi-colored boy this kind of insight. Had something happened that the group that had followed Midoriya never spoke about? Had something happened to Todoroki?

“Very good.” Aizawa gave a nod. “Granted, the press isn’t fond of a Pro Hero who rampantly lies, but during times of crises, those things tend to be swept under the rug in the news. Keeping calm and treating the villain with respect and dignity are paramount to the safe extraction of both yourself and the hostages. Stay in command but choose your words wisely so that your enemy thinks that they have complete control. Remember that while we go over the scenarios today.”
---------------------- Ojiro couldn’t move. He wasn’t sure if he was allowed to or what he was even supposed to do in this sort of situation; hero training had gone over what to do if cornered – to keep quiet unless they had to keep a villain distracted, to pay attention, to analyze and form some kind of plan – but, for right at this moment, he honestly wasn’t sure if he could do any of those things. So, he stood there and didn’t move or make a sound at all. The version of Cementoss in this universe walked away only to close the door behind the last of the disturbed-looking students as they filed out. Most of the doors in the building had been of the automatic sliding kind, but the classrooms still had he old fashioned ones with the doorknobs; there was a soft ‘thud’ as the door was closed, but the normally gentle sound felt far too loud. Ojiro wondered if it mattered what the different doors here were like; if escape was somehow possible, did this little detail mean anything? There was still an implant on his heart. How far would he get if he ran? How wide was the range on the transmitter on it? If he was going to go down, could he go down fighting? Why was he even considering it? Ken came back in to his frame of view. The cement block of a man leaned against a desk. “I’m surprised you didn’t try to run or start screaming. Kids your age tend to be finicky.” Was he expected to respond to that? At the extended silence, Ojiro decided that he probably was. It took a second to pull the words out; his throat felt hoarse and dry. “I didn’t think there was much of a point.” “You’re right about that. There wouldn’t be.” Beady black eyes were peering at him, but Ken was smiling in a way that didn’t look cruel or mean. “I have a few questions before we get started. First off, I’m just dying to know, why did you learn to fight like that?” He didn’t ask where, and it took a moment to understand that part of the question. He had asked why.Oh. Oh, no. This was a problem, wasn’t it? The tone sounded casual and conversational; it didn’t sound like an accusation. Like Ken was just curious. Still, Ojiro had very little idea how to go about this. Treat them with respect and dignity, but make them think that they’re in control. Wasn’t Ken-sensei in control, though? If he picked his words well enough, could he get himself out of this? He still wasn’t sure what ‘this’ was. Ojiro decided to feign confusion. “Sir?” Those small black eyes rolled a little. “It’s okay, I already know that you have a ‘dominant twin’ thing going on with your brother. The ‘protective older sibling’ bit. But what happened back at your house that you had to learn to fight so well?” Ojiro blinked once. Ken-sensei had already made a few assumptions that fit in with the lie he was supposed to uphold. He could use that, couldn’t he? “You lie to the villain. At that point, you’re a hostage, too, aren’t you?” The problem was, despite the training at U.A. that helped him learn how to act and speak – and even as a child, he had spent time in front of mirrors practicing facial expressions to be intimidating or talking to the media, like he was sure every little boy that looked up to All Might did – and despite the past month of constant stress hammering in the need to act a certain way, he had never been all that great at lying. He hated to do it, in fact; good Pro Heroes did not lie. All Might certainly had never been caught in one. It had hurt his pride a little when he had learned, early on in U.A.’s first year, that it would be a necessary thing for Pro Heroes to do. And right now, he was afraid that he was going to mess up very, very badly. But wasn’t he already dead in the water? Wasn’t that why he had been asked to stay behind? Ojiro still didn’t even know what he had done to end up here in the first place. For a moment, he was tempted to tell this twisted version of the good-hearted and kind Cementoss from back home everything; if he was going to be dead by morning anyway, what was the point? But if he went down, his ‘twin’ would get caught up as well, wouldn’t he? As long as the lie that ‘Grandfather’ – the man that looked too much like All Might to be anything but, and what that had meant, he still didn’t know – told them to tell stayed up, maybe at least Mashirao wouldn’t be interrogated or killed for being too much of a risk. Ojiro took a deep breath. Every good lie had just a little bit of truth in it; Aizawa had told them that. “There was some bullying back home.” “Really?” Ken still looked more curious than anything else. “You came from a top-tier farm, those places tend to be utopian. What was this bully’s quirk that they let him keep at it?” “Uhm…” The question threw him for a moment before he understood it. Were people with stronger quirks allowed to live longer? If that was the case, there was one guy back at U.A. who had issues with anger and violence that fit the bill. “Nitroglycerine sweat, but he could make it explode from his hands.” Oh, Bakugo would kill him if he knew he was using his name like this. “Ah.” Ken now looked vaguely annoyed. “That explains it. A weaponizable quirk. Your Sensei must have been at their wits end trying to reign that in. Who was your Sensei?” This conversation was now getting strange and unfamiliar; he didn’t understand why it was going in this direction and Ojiro could feel the sweat running down his neck. “A –” He had to remind himself to use first names, not last, that no one here had surnames at all. “Ah… Shota.” The expression that crossed that flat block face shifted to something that looked… Sad? Distant? ‘Staring off in to the middle distance’ sort of sad? Was this a good thing or a bad thing? “Shota?” Ken shifted in place. “How was your Sensei when you left? Was he… Okay?” What was this conversation right now? “I guess so?” Ojiro didn’t have to fake the confusion. Ken let out a wordless him; he was frowning, now, but it still didn’t look mean. What was happening? Had Ken-sensei known the Aizawa from this world? Did it even matter if he had? At least, Ojiro wasn’t sure if it mattered who knew who right now. Wasn’t he still going to die? He had been held back from joining the others for dinner, they probably didn’t want to waste the food on a corpse. He felt a sudden pain in his gut and he wasn’t sure if it was purely stress, a bit of anger at the strict unfairness of it all, or some mutated mix of everything. Ojiro took a deep breath and clenched his fists at his side. His tail had rested mostly limp on the floor since he had been in here, but he couldn’t help the end of it twitching from anxiety. That ache in his stomach was growing from the added frustration and confusion. He decided, then, that if he was going to die tonight, he may as well have some last-minute bravery. “Sir, may I ask why I’m being expelled?” At the very least, he could know. Ken looked up sharply and with clear surprise; had he gotten so lost in whatever memory he stumbled in to that he forgot he was here? “What? Expel you?” A pause. “Oh. I suppose I have been pretty ominous with my choice of words. Actually, on the contrary, we’ve decided to push you up a year.” All words in Ojiro’s brain came to a halt. For a moment, he couldn't think at all; his mind had simply blanked itself out in shock. He honestly had no idea what the words even were for a moment. Ojiro tried to form some kind of sound – a question, probably – but he got a breath out, a vague whimper, and then nothing else. Ken noticed; he smirked. “Your skills are more advanced than the rest of the class, including your own twin, in almost every aspect. Shino tells me that your needlepoint is still on par for a beginner, but you’re more focused on the task and able to free yourself from distraction in a way we don’t typically see in first years.” From distraction? The only thing he could remember ever being a distraction was that woman early on who had failed out, who had been crying in the halls… Had that been staged?! The shock was starting to clear, but it was giving way to horrible, massive confusion. His head was now starting to hurt. Ojiro had to blink a few times to try and make his mind function better; it didn’t really work. “Was that woman that was crying in the hallway…?” “Oh, that wasn’t fake.” Cement gray shoulders gave a small shrug. “That was real, we just made sure to have it happen in that part of the building. You were the only one that kept on working, by the way. Everyone was quite impressed.” That just made things feel worse. There were still so many things that bothered and confused him; the cloud that had settled over his mind had decided that it was not going to budge. “But I get knocked down in sparring all the time…” Why was he arguing about this? Wasn’t this a good thing? The ‘not going to die’ thing was absolutely a good thing. Shouldn’t he be shutting up and going along with whatever these people wanted? “On straight quirk matches, yes.” Ken actually chuckled. “But on sheer technical skill, you’ve got far more going for you than anyone else. I have no doubt that in a real fight, you’d come out on top every time.” Ojiro still felt terribly confused, but the relief was starting to pile on. The praise, as bizarre as it was, also felt strangely nice. He wasn’t going to die. He had been asked to stay back because they were just… Moving him up a grade? Was this normal for this place? “We wanted to let you know now so that you’d have at least a few minutes to tell your brother goodbye.” Ken was smiling at him. “You’ll be moved to the dorm hall with the second years starting tonight. The move will be immediate and your points will go with you, too, I’m afraid. The quickest anyone’s ever gotten to graduation, as far as I know, was in two years. I don’t expect you to be quite that good, but if you keep doing your best, you should be fine.” A heavy cement hand was suddenly on his shoulder. He didn’t like it there. “You’re doing very well. You should be proud.” Then why was the back of his mind still set in a solid panic?-------------------- Finally, things were starting to wind down. Nearly six hours after the start of what Aizawa was still tempted to call a full fledged convention – or at least a ‘meet-and-greet’, if only because he knew being compared to idol groups would annoy the hell out of his peers – and, now that the sun was setting, people were finally starting to leave. He wasn’t surprised to find Best Jeanist wrapping it up first; the injuries he sustained from the Kamino incident would likely leave the Number 4 Hero ending all future meetings with fans similarly early. The news didn’t air exactly what wounds Jeanist had come out with, but the live broadcast of how he got the worst of it had been on every screen in the entire country. It had been horrific and bloody and Best Jeanist merchandise sales had increased fourfold immediately afterwards. He’d need the money; Aizawa wouldn’t be surprised if it would take years to recover. If he ever fully did. It was, though, thanks to Jeanist deciding to leave as abruptly as he did, looking pale and a bit dizzy, that he saw something unusual from the corner of his vision. Aizawa looked away from the denim-clad Pro hugging the boys that were technically his sons to stare at a little get-together of several of his own students and orphans. Both of the Shotos – the baby that the newly christened Yamada Shoto had been holding before was no longer in his arms – were having a conversation with both of the Mezos and Tokoyami on the side. The Mezo with the numbers on his neck looked like he was having some sort of crisis, eyes frantic above a white mask. The other boys around him looked worried and concerned. Aizawa frowned to himself but saw no reason to get involved; these were legitimately the least likely group of children to cause trouble. He thought each of them responsible and mature enough to handle whatever problems they were having on their own. He was about to look away, internally considering having a talk with them later – or, at least, send the orphan Mezo to Hound Dog if he was having that big of a problem with whatever was going on – when he saw a small paper go from Todoroki Shoto’s hand to one of Shoji’s. If the paper hadn’t looked so odd, he might have disregarded it, but it had some kind of film on it, and the printing on it didn’t look quite right. Then he saw pure relief cross Mezo’s face. Oh, for goodness sake. These were the kids that weren’t supposed to cause problems. Aizawa sighed to himself and walked over to the small huddle of teenagers. All he did was cough to get their attention before adding on a solid, “Ahem.” He had never seen identical guilt and worry cross these particular faces so quickly or look so very much alike. Even Tokoyami’s beak managed to curve in a way that just screamed, ‘oh crap we got caught’. For goodness sake, they were horrific liars. They needed to work on that. Aizawa waited a moment for an explanation. When nothing came but silence, he let out a breath. “Do I want to know why you have a temporary tattoo with large numbers on them?” With the text faded under the film and backwards, he could almost tell which exact orphan it was – ah. “Mezo, Shoji, I honestly did not expect this from you two.” The guilt on Mezo’s face somehow blossomed worse. “Sensei, I’m sorry. It’s my fault.” “He’s not Sensei.” Yamada Shoto frowned, looking even more worried than he did a minute ago. “Sorry.” Mezo said again. Then, he rubbed his face with two hands from the same side. “What’s going on?” Aizawa couldn’t help the concern; he hadn’t known this version of Shoji for long, but even he could tell this wasn’t like him. A brief moment of silence passed; it looked like they were more worried about Mezo than what might be revealed. “He spoke to the other you this morning.” Tokoyami was the first to clarify, looking uneasy. “It didn’t go well.” Ah. He saw where this was going. Aizawa stared, feeling a little incredulous but also just faintly impressed. “So you thought to give Shoji your numbers so that he could talk to your Sensei instead.” “Yeah.” Mezo now looked embarrassed. “I… I can’t talk to him, but I need to talk to him…” “Do you want to tell us what happened this morning with him?” Aizawa said as gently as he could. There was no audible response; Mezo shook his head. That was fine; whatever it was clearly bothered him deeply and it wasn’t Aizawa’s job to force teenagers to relive traumatic experiences. “If you still want to try talking to him, have you considered going in a group?” “I tried.” Mezo was looking at the ground, ashamed. “With Ochaco, Tooru and Yuga.” That honestly sounded like the worst possible group of people to go in to a conversation nervous with. “I mean, this group.” Aizawa gestured vaguely to the lot of boys around him. “Your Sensei already knows where he is and that there’s ‘other’ versions of you here. If it helps your nerves, going in with people that you know would back you up could help.” The lot of boys shared wide-eyed expressions that told him that, first, none of them had considered going in together, and, secondly, none of them thought that it was a very good idea. “Are we… Allowed?” Todoroki blinked. “I don’t think any of us locals have even looked at their Sensei.” ‘Locals’? The term was somehow both cute and clever and Aizawa immediately hated it. “As long as you don’t try to murder him, I don’t see why not.” Still, he shrugged. “Also, I don’t think I should have to say this, but please do not try to murder him.” Shoji was the only one that seemed amused. It wasn’t a joke. “Just think about it.” Aizawa looked at the temporary tattoo paper in Shoji’s hand. “And I will be taking that.” -------------------As far as Shoto could see, Mezo was the only one having this much trouble talking to Sensei. Erika came a little close but considering she had spent extra time stuck back at the house – and he could barely imagine it, almost alone in that big house, with only Sensei and a couple of the little ones there? And there had been a demon at the portal, so there could have been more at the house; it must have been horrible – so at least her issues were more reasonable.But Mezo? Mezo was complicated.Shoto had tried to explain it to the friends he had made in this universe; at least to the other version of himself and to Shoji and Tokoyami. They were, technically, the closest people to the source of the problem. However, he found that there wasn’t much he could say without horribly insulting at least one of these new friends.Even watching Mezo now, pacing in front of Sensei’s little infirmary, trying to get his nerves in order – where Sensei had been since he came to this universe – didn’t help the words come any easier for either of them.“Strange. He didn’t look nearly this stressed a few days ago.” Tokoyami said quietly in their little huddle a bit further off.The idea to stay a bit away had been to give Mezo room to breathe. Shoto wondered if it only made things worse. “A few days ago wasn’t the four month anniversary.” He let out a soft sigh. “It’s been like this every month. The closer we get to the day, the more like this he gets. Then he calms down again only to start it up again after a few weeks.”“I thought he wasn’t there when…?” Shoji looked at Mezo with obvious worry.“He wasn’t.” Shoto gave a shrug. “I don’t think it matters to him, though.”The truth was, for most of their more than fifty-strong family, Fumikage’s death had been little more than a catalyst. It was more of an action – that someone had been killed, rather than who it was that had died – that had set about the panic and fear for the rest of them. It had been, in the months that they had spent planning how to escape, about preserving their own lives; it had never been about revenge. Shoto knew that, despite all of Katsuki’s posturing, the sad truth of the matter was that no one had really liked Fumikage.He had been a strange boy from the start. A loner; even when they were little and everyone else tended to play their games together, Fumikage had always gone off by himself with books with black and red covers, climbed a tree somewhere in the woods around the house, and just read all day. He had enjoyed the company of his own talking quirk – which had been weird enough on its own – and very rarely did he do anything with anyone. Some of the other kids had teased him. Before Katsuki had started to quiet down – when siblings had stopped taking his nonsense – the bombastic boy had been keen on loudly making fun of Fumikage’s eccentricities.The only one who had ever bothered to try to be friends with Fumikage had been Mezo. Shoto had no idea when it started, really, only that he had once stumbled across them one afternoon when he had been small; Fumikage had been perching on some branches with a scary-looking book and Mezo had been at the base of the same tree with a book showcasing a much happier title. They had both been quiet; young Mezo had, at least, waved to him. Fumikage hadn’t acknowledged his presence at all.Shoto had tried a few times to join them after that. To just sit there and read in silence. He had read about ‘companionable quiet’, about people just enjoying each other’s company, but it had just been too weird; no one ever said anything for hours on end. After a couple of tries, he had given up and gone back to sitting with Mei in the afternoons, who had always had a habit of endlessly talking about whatever she was building or trying to invent at the time. It had been a much more pleasant background noise.Now, he felt a little bit badly about it. He had always known that everyone was going to die – had lived his life telling Sensei who was doing what and where, who might be getting suspicious – and he knew he had distanced himself from most of his siblings as a result. Maybe it just wasn’t as easy for other people to ignore death? Mezo certainly wasn’t handling it well.At least, right now, he was still pacing in front of the door.“Is this a bad time to mention that we might have an additional problem?” Todoroki said in a low whisper next to him; they had all been hushed to avoid bothering Mezo. “My father is extremely interested in actually adopting you.”“That sounds like a terrible idea.” Shoto whispered back with only a long blink. “After everything you’ve told me about him, tell him thanks, but no thanks.”“He has calmed down a bit since All Might’s retirement.” Todoroki gave a shrug but didn’t look interested in convincing him. Just informing him, then? He could appreciate that.Still… “Isn’t he the top hero right now?” Shoto raised a brow. “How would the news even take that? Your world doesn't really know we even exist.”Todoroki gave another shrug.“How do you feel about the whole ‘getting adopted’ thing in general?” The question from Shoji was only a little unexpected.It was going to be asked by someone sooner or later, Shoto just hadn’t anticipated it here and now. “I don’t really know.” He frowned a little in thought. “I know the others spent their whole lives growing up with the idea of wanting to be adopted. I always knew that it was never going to happen, so now it’s just… Strange. Like it isn’t real.”“The situation is kind of weird.” Shoji nodded. “Well, okay, very, very weird. I mean, I’m watching myself pace across a hall right now…”“Shoji, have you told your parents about…?” Tokoyami piped up similarly quiet; with one hand, he gestured to the mentioned alternate version of the taller teen down the hall.“Oh, god, no.” Shoji shook his head. “I mean, I know some of the others have. Iida, at least, obviously. But I have no idea what I would even tell my parents that wouldn’t disturb them. They still have their doubts about U.A. since what happened with Bakugo. I never even told them what happened in the forest.”“Probably for the best. All of it.” Tokoyami seemed to frown. “The less darkness that is allowed to creep on our parents’ households, the more light that can grasp it.”Shoto glanced at the feathered boy for a moment; that was exactly the strange way of talking he remembered from Fumikage. It still sounded strange and unnatural.Then, Mezo finally stopped pacing. His shoulders straightened and his eyes – his natural ones, plus a few that sprouted from his arms – were aimed at the door. He looked ready.Shoto glanced to the three others around him. With a new shrug – which Todoroki did as well at almost the same time – they walked to Mezo’s side. ------------------- By the time Ojiro was led back in the cafeteria, the dinner hour was halfway done. The walk from the classroom only took a few short minutes, but he tried to spend the time getting his thoughts and feelings in to some sort of order. Everything felt like a jumbled mess that sent a part of his brain in to a constant screaming loop. Normally, the dining hall had at least a very base ambient noise. No one ever spoke that loudly, but whispered chatter from so many people still produced some volume. The moment he was allowed in and the door slid shut behind him, the volume immediately decreased immensely. It didn’t go to a complete hush – Ojiro thought that the table with the older years were still talking – but it was noticeable. His usual seat was in the back and facing the rest of the room. Getting in as late as he was, he had to walk behind people that had already sat down. Every single face turned to stare at him in shock, heads swiveling to follow him as he walked past. Ojiro gave his best shot at ignoring it all but the most he could really do was to try not to let it pile on to the mess that was already inside of his head. When he finally sat down, squeezing between his ‘twin’ and Hitoshi, everyone was still staring. Neito had flat stopped eating, spoon mid-air, jaw agape. Ibara had her hands over her mouth with the same expression on her face as Ibara; as if they were looking at a ghost. There was the brief idea that he should probably say something. Or, at the very least, look to see how Hitoshi and Mashirao were taking his sudden reappearance. It was at that moment, however, that the smell of lukewarm food hit him full force and Ojiro suddenly felt very, very hungry. It was a mostly cold bowl of udon noodles and slices of some kind of meat inside of the bowl. He wasn’t sure if it was chicken, beef, pork or some other animal that people ate in this universe. It could have been kangaroo meat for all he knew; at that moment, he did not really care what it was. His brain collapsed in on itself and, right then and there, eating was the most important thing to get done. Distantly, Ojiro knew he must have looked ridiculous, inhaling his food the way that he was. He barely remembered to use a fork, but only to bring up the noodles and meat as quickly as he could. No one else made a sound. No one tried to talk to him. He heard the sound of metal utensils being set back on the table, but he didn’t look up to see whose it was or where.It wasn’t until all of the solids were devoured that he finally stopped. The broth remained, but something deep inside finally felt like it was settling down.It was as if he could think coherently again.Ojiro found himself holding his head in his hands. The headache that had started a few minutes ago was suddenly pounding.“…What happened?” Came, very slowly and partially whimpered, from Inasa.The words served as some kind of anchor; something with meaning that he could hold on to and follow with his own train of thought. “I’m being moved up a year.” Ojiro took a deep breath; it helped to calm him down just a little. “Immediately.”“You’re being what?” Neito said a little louder than usual.It occurred to Ojiro, then, that this flew in the face of Neito’s earlier theory; he had shared the mannequins at that exam, so he should have been considered ‘less desirable’. But telling them – these people that were almost friends – that he was being pushed up due to sheer skill felt like bragging. It felt like the wrong thing to say. “I think it’s some kind of experiment.”“Separate the twins.” Neito mused aloud much more calmly. “See how they do completely alone.”“Sounds about right for this place.” Inasa growled.“That Grandfather guy did say just taking us in was an experiment.” Mashirao sounded hoarse.“But this is… Good, isn’t it?” Hitoshi sputtered. “Considering the alternative?”“We won’t be allowed to speak with you again.” Ibara gasped.Ojiro finally looked up.They all looked sad; they barely knew each other, really, had only spoken in these little snippets for only a little over a month. Yet, they all looked like they were losing someone that they had known for years.It felt strange on some level, but Ojiro realized that his own feelings weren’t that far off. There had been something almost nice about talking to these people that were nearly friends every day. A few minutes where none of them had to be too afraid of what they said or did; they had discussed techniques for sparring together. They had talked about how best to survive.It had only been a little over a month.“Ojiro…” That was Mashirao.He turned to stare; he wasn’t expecting his mirror image to have shimmering eyes with tears threatening to spill. Before he could really understand that his fake brother may have been well and truly upset about this, he was suddenly pulled in to an awkward sideways hug, one arm around his shoulder.That was when he remembered that he should probably warn his ‘twin’ about what he had said. “Ken-sensei was asking questions, I told him about Ba –” Wrong name, again. “Katsuki, that he was a bully…”“Katsuki was a bully!” Mashirao choked out. “He smelled like burnt sugar half the time, but he was a serious pain in the ass!”Well, at the very least, they got that much ironed out. There was the vague pleasant feeling that he had guessed correctly about the Bakugo of this universe, that he had likely told the right kind of lie, but it was a dim echo against all the other conflicted emotions he was feeling. Ojiro took a breath – his body felt like it was a bit shaky, now – and returned the half hug.How much of this was an act? Was his lookalike really sad to see him gone, or was he putting up a front, that teary-eyed farewell that everyone expected? Ojiro felt himself acting half in either direction; he was worried about his ‘brother’, knowing that he still could get in to a great deal of trouble here, but he hadn’t really known him for more than a few weeks. They were, at best, the kind of distant family he might see at a reunion; blood, but barely.Still, the hug felt real, and it had been a very long time since he had gotten one. He took and clung back just as strong.“Hey.” Neito said more softly than he had ever heard him. “Be careful in the second-year classes.”Ojiro had to untangle himself to stare at the blonde. Did Neito actually look worried?“You’ll be fresh meat.” Neito had started to eat again, taking slow spoons full of broth. “Their numbers were already cut in half. You’re a new addition. You’ll be a target.”That made sense; Ojiro gave a nod. “I’ll try.”There was a very real possibility that he might never see these people again; at least not closer than across a room.“Thank you.” Ojiro looked to each of them; the shock was fading and he was taking in the worry everyone was aiming at him now. “I’ll do my best not to die.”There came a small round of quiet, bittersweet laughter.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

After all of the legal issues were out of the way and all of the orphans had paperwork to back up their existence, there came the matter of more minute assessment. Technically, they could just register for any regular run-of-the-mill school without needing anything beyond a basic reading test, but Aizawa had the distinct feeling that this lot wouldn’t want to go for average, mundane or run-of-the-mill. He didn’t even bother asking them. The words he chose, he thought, were all that were needed; that U.A., at least, wanted to know where they stood academically in things beyond what special tutors had already learned from them. Well, that, and Aizawa was personally incredibly curious about certain things. The younger orphans were left to standardized tests. The older ones – the ones that showed interest in Pro Hero work and the duplicates of his own students, though those categories had plenty of overlap – well, he thought they could handle something a bit more intense. “You will have to take the more traditional standardized assessment tests, which will count more towards where you end up. Though, I have no doubt that you’ll all do fine in those.” The almost twenty kids stared at him with various levels of unease; in a spare classroom, some of them as young as twelve-years-old, it all looked a little bit strange. Still, Aizawa rolled his eyes. “Honestly, you need to stop worrying. You’ll have a choice of what schools you want to go to. Some idiot kids even decide based on how much they like the uniform. Just don’t do that.” At least that got a few chuckles out of them; some of them even relaxed a little. “This test counts for exactly nothing. It will not be graded in any serious manner, no institution will ever see it, and you probably won’t be able to answer half of the questions. This is the exact same midterm test 1-A took just this past year. We just want to see how you handle it.” A few eyebrows went up; with it came a small swath of intrigued expressions. Good. They were interested; it was a fantastic sign. These kids wanted to know the kind of questions fledgling wannabe heroes were going to be asked. The papers were handed out and he let them at it. Judging by a couple of smirks here and there – Mina and Ochaco shared a knowing glance between them when he gave them their copies – some of them already suspected what this was about. At least, partially; true, he wanted to see how they compared to their ‘other selves’. Aizawa could admit that much. But, more importantly, he wanted to see if they had the sense to have done any research in to the world they were now in on their own. Later, when he was going through and grading the answers – though, no one but U.A.’s own faculty would see it; maybe, maybe, they might include it in any applications to other schools – he found that, for the most part, they had not. As a whole, the ones with alternate versions of themselves to compare to did worse than their ‘local’ lookalikes. That probably shouldn’t have been a surprise. The younger children, the twelve-, thirteen- and fourteen-year-olds who he figured should at least give a shot at this, didn’t do nearly as terribly as they could have. There were, however, a few surprises. “How in the world,” Present Mic said around the break room’s table during lunch. “Did Denki do that much better on the practical questions than Kaminari!? They’re technically the same kid!” “They aren’t.” Cementoss frowned as he looked at some of the exams. “And we need to stop thinking of them like that. Similar personalities, but they’re different people.” “Hmm.” Midnight mused. “Tsuyu did pretty well on the questions with physics and math, but the more science-related questions were completely off.” “Yuga got almost twice the score Aoyama did.” Vlad said with a look of pure confusion. “Twice.” “To be fair, that’s not very difficult.” Aizawa sighed. “Aoyama did atrociously on the midterm.” “They both answered the exact same way on the question 45, though.” Vlad still had that look of disturbed confusion. “They both just gave up halfway through a sentence and then drew a frowny face.” Though, that had been the most difficult question on the midterm; half of his own students hadn’t been able to answer it properly. It had relied on portions of three different research questions done earlier in the semester, knowledge of five different laws related to Pro Heroes and, on top of that, work done decades ago by Pro Heroes that have long since retired. Compounding it further, it had been a question about a hypothetical villain with a multi-tier hostage situation, and – it must have been because Nezu had been feeling particularly upset at the time of constructing the question because Aizawa could not have thought of any other reason for it – a doomsday weapon that relied on at least basic fundamental scientific knowledge to stop from destroying the world. Aizawa did not expect any of the orphans to get it right. They simply lacked the information to do so; at the very least, they wouldn’t have known the popular culture behind the Pro Heroes used in the question. He had been surprised by not only how many had given it a shot, but who had decided to try and how they had answered. “Mei almost got it.” Thirteen seemed impressed; at least, their tone had that slight lift. “I think she was just unfamiliar with the minutia.” “I wanna hang this on my fridge.” Present Mic held up Tsuyu’s answer; a half sentence followed by a rather detailed drawing of a frog peeking out from underneath a lily pad. “This is really good!” “Momo, Katsuki and Shoto all tried to answer with context clues and information from previous questions.” Ectoplasm chuckled. “Have to give them credit for that.” “Ah, the tried and true methodology of fake it until you make it.” Cementoss chuckled. Aizawa raised a brow at his coworker before looking back at the papers; the other brow quickly followed. Koji answered the question with a giant frowny face; it took up the entire first page of the essay portion. Mina simply wrote ‘nope’ in large, scribbly letters. Ochaco got a solid three lines it and then wrote ‘I don’t know, I’m sorry’, and appendixed it with a crying frowning face. Most of the others got, at best, a similarly solid sentence or two out before giving up. Mezo and Hanta had underlined or circled every term that they hadn’t understood and admitted in the answer section that they lacked the knowledge; he made a mental note to give them books later. If they were willing to learn, he didn’t see why he shouldn’t supply them with the information. “They didn’t do half bad.” Present Mic gave a nod to the piles of papers. “Knowing jack squat, I woulda expected it all to be blank.” “One of my own students, and I’m not saying who,” Vlad let out a deep sigh. “Made up answers for the terms they didn’t understand and then ran with their own half-assed answer. This? This is significantly better.” “Oh?” Present Mic looked intrigued. “What’d this half-assed student answer for the optional?” “Something self-centered and insufferable.” Vlad groaned. “You know how the first years tend to be.”The optional question had been something of a last-minute addition back when the midterm had been put together. At the time, Aizawa had assumed that most of his own students wouldn’t even dignify it with a response; this time around, he hadn’t even been sure how these kids would answer it.
Why do you want to be a hero?
These orphans, he thought, were still trying to figure out what that even meant. “Most of the optional answers this time are what I’d expect.” Midnight looked at some of the papers with a small smile. “Lots of ‘I want to help people’.”“I don’t think most of these kids really get the whole ‘fame and fortune’ thing that entices most people to go for Pro Hero work.” Vlad said with a small nod. “I mean, they figured out how to use a TV, what, two weeks ago?”“Can I take Tsuyu’s test with me? Seriously?” Present Mic held up another page. “She drew a frog saving a kitten from a tree! And there’s details and everything!”Aizawa rolled his eyes for what felt like the millionth time. True, these exams had not been intended to be taken seriously, but only on behalf of the children taking them. As the adults in charge, they should be at least a little sterner about these things.Which was why he was staring at one answer in particular.
Why do you want to be a hero?

I don’t, really. I want to sleep.
At face value, it was a purely sarcastic response. The first time he had read it, coming from someone else’s hand, he had taken it as exactly that. Seeing it word-for-word from an ‘alternate version’ of the same boy was startling and a little disturbing. Todoroki Shoto had answered the question in the exact same way.There were absolutely similarities between those two boys; it would be stupid to say that there weren’t.The long-held secret of Todoroki’s upbringing wasn’t nearly so secret anymore, but bringing it to the press would be a horrible idea; taking in to account Endeavor’s current ranking as the top pro hero, it would be a nightmare for the accuser. Without any sort of proof, it was completely inadvisable and Aizawa had the feeling that Todoroki knew it. So, U.A. kept it quiet to protect their student. That painful childhood had made Todoroki distant and unwilling – until very, very recently – to form any kind of emotional attachment.Yamada Shoto, on the other hand, had grown up manipulated by the only adult in his life, forced to watch in silence as children that were practically his own brothers and sisters marched off to die, and had, as far as Aizawa knew, only Mei to talk to about it for the majority of his young life. That painful childhood had made Shoto identically as distant and unwilling to form emotional attachment.Two entirely different upbringings that resulted in near identical children.Did either of them even think that they had a choice to be on this path?What would they do if they decided that they didn’t have to be?------------------------- It was a system that they had perfected back at the house; get together in small groups, discuss what needed to be said while pretending to play and then disperse and give the information to other kids in the most casual-looking way possible. There had been more than fifty of them, after all, and Sensei’s eyes couldn’t be on all of them at once. Before the grand escape, every kid old enough to understand had been in on it. Now, there wasn’t quite as much danger involved, but secrets still felt necessary to keep.“We are extremely ahead of schedule at this point in time.” Mei said with a broad grin and energy practically radiating off of her. “At the rate that we’re going, the dimensional ripper will be ready in a matter of days! The only thing standing in the way of it all is the shipment of supplies to finish it up!”By all regards, this was good news. Under any other circumstance, Shoto knew that they would all be celebrating. Instead, the lot of them – a few of his own siblings and some of their counterparts – slowly backed away from Mei as she came to meet them at the small forested area by one of the dorms that they had agreed upon.“Are you… Okay?” Mezo asked with very clear concern.“I’m perfectly fine!” Mei said with a very un-Mei-like bounce.“I think you’re literally breaking the sound barrier just walking there.” Todoroki boggled.Shoto wondered if his counterpart could actually be right; with the way the pink-haired girl seemingly vibrated in place, he could swear that he could actually see through her.“What did you do?” Katsuki stared. “Why the hell are you like… This?”“It’s nothing to be concerned about!” Mei giggled; it sounded maniacal. “Hatsume figured out how to triple-distil and vacuum-extract coffee to raise the caffeine concentration by thirty percent per volume and I drank some of it!”Shoto backed away another step. So did everyone else within distance of her.“You did what?!” Midoriya’s voice came out in a pitched squeak. “Aren’t you worried about your heart exploding?! That can’t be healthy!”“Hatsume said she’s been drinking the stuff for years! And I haven’t slept in a couple of days but I’m getting so much work done! It’s fine!” Mei cackled again.“…Okay.” Mezo said as he, too, moved a bit further away; by now, they had given her a solid semi-circle of space. “And what was that about a ‘dimensional ripper’?”“Well, it just sounds so much better than ‘portal opener’, doesn’t it?” Mei stopped distorting the air around her just long enough to give Mezo a curious tilt of her head; it somehow looked thoroughly terrifying. Shoto didn’t blame Mezo for looking ready to run. “Names are powerful things, you know!”“Hatsume’s probably built up an immunity to the distilled coffee.” Midoriya mused aloud, still looking very perturbed.“Moving on!” Mei said as she whipped a backpack from her shoulders to the ground. She tugged the zipper so strongly that it tore; the rolled-up papers she pulled out were then held in shaking hands. It crumpled in her grip. “I went the old-fashioned cartographer route on this thing, but I am certain it’s at least 95% accurate within a yard given a plus or minus 2% error variance but it should be perfectly why can’t I unroll this stupid paper!?”“Mei.” Katsuki said sternly.Mei stood perfectly still; she stared at him.Slowly, Katsuki pulled the now slightly torn papers from her hands. He unfurled it to reveal a pair of hand-drawn maps.“Okay, the top one is of the school grounds here.” Mei acted as if she weren’t possibly going insane, pointing at the pages. “The lower one is of the house and the walls around it. Somehow, the walls both correlate to the same space, but everything else is different.”“Oh!” Midoriya peered at the maps from next to Katsuki. “And you made notes on where the ground’s been raised and where the similarities match…”“The house is on a hill.” Shoto nodded as he inched closer to see for himself. “The basement there opened up to ground level here.”“So outside of where that house is, everything else inside of the walls are on the same level as they are here?” Shoji, who leaned against a nearby tree, mused aloud.“Do you intend on going on to the grounds there?” Tokoyami, similarly leaning next to Shoji, said with a frown.“God, no, that’d be stupid.” Mei shook her head. “I already gave all of this to the police and Pro people and I told them that outside the walls would be better. The issue is that the cliff is almost a half-kilometer wide canyon. That’s not taking in to account some of the really weird things, like the hemisphere difference…”“What?” Shoto blinked. “I noticed the weather was a bit unusual, but hemisphere difference?”“It’s just the start of autumn here.” Mei nodded excitedly. “It’s early spring there.”“Does that mean anything?” Todoroki blinked.“I have absolutely no idea!” Mei cackled wildly. “It’s all a complete mystery! Some things are the same and how we’re even speaking the same language, I have no idea, but the calendars match up outside of the years and the walls are in the same place, but there’s different kinds of trees and the birds are different and the weather’s off, but the constellations aren’t, so there has to be a hemisphere displacement but there also couldn’t be, but why or how, I have no idea or if it’s related to the earth’s rotation or tilt in regards to the sun, and how that even gets in to play –"“Mei!” Katsuki suddenly barked. It worked; Mei stopped all at once, mouth still open mid-word.“We should probably talk about the more important shit. We have no idea who’s in that house right now.” Katsuki said with a frown. “Or if they replaced us with more kids or what. Mei, you ever look far past that cliff?”“Forest as far as I could see.” Mei frowned. “But the other walls around the house lead to, I think, more farms.”“More farms?” Midoriya blinked.“Giant circle of farms.” Katsuki let out a snort. “Good ol’ Sensei confirmed it when we asked. He has no idea how big the circle is, but the back wall’s the only one facing a cliff.”“The idea is that we go to that forest and then go around all the farms and the canyon.” Mei was hopping in place again, pink curls bouncing around the beaming grin on her face. “I mean, once we get everyone’s tracking devices out. By the way, the exploratory surgery went pretty well! I just need a couple of days to reverse-engineer the signal it’s transmitting and we’re set!”Shoto stared at her. A moment of silence fell. He found himself the first to break it. “Did… Did you just say ‘exploratory surgery’?”“Well, yeah!” Mei tilted her head again; she looked a little crazed. “I knew it was somewhere in the cartilage in our ears, and I didn’t want to ask any of you to chop off yours…”“Mei…” Katsuki had that tone to his voice when he knew someone had done something stupid and was already thinking of how to yell at them for it.On his end, Shoto could feel himself go pale. Would Mei have really…? Even in the caffeine-excited state that she was in now?Mei, at least, looked a little ashamed of herself. A little. Oh, no. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it! I’ll have the signal figured out in a day or two, I already have an automatic system set up to continually run checks on –”“Mei.” Shoto said it this time; he stared at her. “Did you perform surgery on yourself?”Mei’s eyes darted back and forth. Slowly, hesitantly, she brushed some of her pink curls aside to reveal a large, gleaming white bandage over the side of her head.Midoriya let out a whimper; it was the first sound any of them made, but it was enough to poke them all out of the stunned shock. Shoto heard his own groan overlap with gasps and someone’s hiss.“Mei, why?” Mezo rubbed his face above his mask. “You could have asked me.”“You can’t grow back the parts on your real face!” Mei sputtered.“But doctors here can probably use one of my duplicates to reattach a new one.” Mezo said with expiration. “I saw a program on television about it a few days ago.”By now, they were all used to the lengths Mei would go in the name of science; back at the house, she had done more than a few strange and wild experiments. Shoto still wasn’t sure which of them had been done just as a cover – to make Sensei think she was a little crazy, or to distract the only adult in the house from finding the machine she was building on the side – or which ones had well and truly been real ideas she wanted to explore.“Did you go to Recovery Girl, at least?!” Midoriya looked like he was freaking out a little. “Did you use anesthetics or pain relief or anything?!”Well, maybe they weren’t all used to Mei, Shoto supposed.“Oh, yeah, I saw the nurse lady after.” Mei shrugged. “I told her I was using a machine I never used before and an accident happened and she bought that story. But anyway!” That grin returned. “Once I have the signal figured out, I can use it to find where the tracking devices are on everybody, down to pinpoint precision, and then we don’t have to cut apart everybody to find the things! And the police guy with the cat head already told me he’d get a doctor with a healing quirk to patch us up after!”“Mei, don’t drink that shit again. I don’t care what’s going on, never drink any of this distilled coffee crap ever again.” Katsuki looked disturbed. “But do you think you can use the same signal to track down Mashirao?”“Yup!” Mei gave a thumbs up. “The Pro people guys are going to have Sensei’s tracking device, but I can build one of our own!”“So you are going to go in after all.” Tokoyami frowned. “Despite what those in charge asked.”“I figure we’ll be backup.” Katsuki grinned. “Out there, your Pro Heroes won’t have any police to call or anybody in case shit hits the fan. I figure we can tail ‘em, stay a distance off, and then help out if they need it.”Midoriya let out a nervous laugh. Todoroki glanced to the side. Shoto stared at them both and wondered what set off that kind of reaction.“Will all of you go?” Todoroki said after a moment with a quick glance in his own direction. Shoto frowned; there was something in his lookalike’s expression that he couldn’t quite figure out. He didn’t get a chance to answer.“Hell no!” Katsuki looked startled by the question. “I’m not gonna make anyone that doesn’t want in on this to be in on this, and like hell I’m letting the little ones come. And I know some of those little brats are going to try to follow us.” He shook his head. “Maybe a dozen of us, at best, will do this. Maybe half that.”“In that case, I think I’m out.” Shoto said.“What?” Mei turned to look at him so quickly that her hair spun. “You don’t want to help with the rescue?!”Shoto looked away; he wasn’t sure how to explain the nervous energy inside of his stomach.“I get it.” Katsuki said softly. Shoto looked up in surprise to find the usually bombastic teenager only looking disappointed. “Sensei’s fucked with you for years, like hell you’d wanna risk getting stuck there again.”“But Sensei isn’t there, he’s here.” Mei blinked in visible confusion.“But other Senseis are.” Katsuki aimed his disappointment at Mei, now. “If we get caught there, we could end up in a different house with another Sensei or just straight up killed. Or worse.” He paused. “Whatever the fuck ‘worse’ is over there.”“There’s always worse.” Tokoyami said cryptically.“That’s not helping.” Shoji said with a faintly amused look.“I’m not afraid of that.” The words came out before Shoto really thought them through.And now everyone was looking at him.“I’m a security risk.” Shoto cringed at how it sounded.“Security risk?” Katsuki looked baffled. “The fuck’r you talking about, you were forced to work for Sensei, you weren’t actually helping the demons!”“Not like that…” Shoto stopped. He couldn’t find the right words to explain it, not without it sounding weak or stupid.But then a quiet gasp came from Midoriya. “Oh…! You mean if a demon eats you, they’ll get two quirks instead of one…?”“Yeah.” Shoto cringed again. “Security risk.” A beat of silence passed.“Guess that means I’m out, too.” Todoroki grumbled.“You weren’t even going to come in to begin with!” Katsuki snarled. “You bastards actually have lives here with families and responsibilities and shit, like hell I’m letting you idiots throw that away!”“But don’t you have the same thing here now, too?” Shoji said with a raised brow. “You have the paperwork to prove it.”“It’s not the same thing and you know it!” The blonde glared angrily at everyone around him. “No one would miss us if we up and vanished!”“The little kids would.” Mei’s voice came in barely a whisper. “I would.”“Anyone from this universe, I mean.” It came in a long, angry hiss from Katsuki.“We would.” Midoriya said with a small, sad smile. “And I’m pretty sure you know that.”Katsuki huffed; he folded his arms and looked, for a moment, like the little kids did when they were about to throw a tantrum. He glared, for a long moment, at Midoriya.The green-haired boy only smiled patiently back.After a few seconds, Katsuki’s glare turned to Mei. “So how long ‘til all the shit’s done?” ------------------Now, it was only a matter of time. The tracking device inside of the pocket watch had been handed over to the police to figure out the exact kind of signal it sent and received, Power Loader’s class was just about done with the portal device itself, and Aizawa had the feeling that the government was already well on their way to having countermeasures for any potential demon invasion. He wasn’t even sure if the scientists at I-Island would bother to loop him in on the autopsy report or if that would go straight to the top. Did it really matter if they kept him out of that little detail? It wasn’t like this situation wasn’t already insane enough.Honestly, there wasn’t much else any of them could do but wait. Now, it was just a matter of trying to keep calm and acting as if everything was perfectly normal.Too bad things were never really normal around here.The request for a video call came, thankfully, after class hours were done. Homework was almost graded entirely when the non-emergency line rang. Aizawa blinked at it once to find it coming from an unknown number.This wasn’t particularly out of the normal; calls to the non-emergency line came in all the time. It was, however, the ‘unknown’ part that threw him off. Was it a new Pro Hero that hadn’t registered his phone number yet? An undercover officer that couldn’t use a proper line? Other Pros had overzealous fans that tracked Pro Hero numbers down and posted them on the internet often enough, but Aizawa was pretty sure that he didn't have any fans that would fall in to that category. Or any fans at all. It was the best perk of the whole ‘undercover hero’ thing; working alone at night, no one saw you long enough to like you. He got to do his job in peace with none of the idol worship.Still, a request for a video call? Who would need that?More curious than anything else now, Aizawa tapped the green ‘accept’ button.His breath caught in his throat when the face flashed on screen. Or, rather, the mask. Mr. Compress stared at him from the other end of the screen, full in his villain costume.The League of Villains were calling and Aizawa wondered how the hell they got his number.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

They saw him on the way back to the dorms. Rather, it had been Mei that had let out a sudden pitched gasp before she came to a sudden stop; in turn, everyone else looked to what had startled her. Half of them had similar reactions; Shoto was amongst them and he felt his entire body stiffen in alarm. On the pathway directly in front of them – if a solid distance away, but there were no forks in the road that he could see – Sensei Shota was standing there. “Well, shit.” Katsuki said with a growl. “Looks like they finally let him out of the infirmary.” “He was there for a while…” Mezo’s voice trailed off and now he looked a little pale. “Surprised it took this long, really.” On his end, Shoto shared a look with Todoroki; he was pretty sure that his exact expression came right back at him. Sure, none of them liked Sensei – good god, did they really not like Sensei – but they had no reason to go to all-out war just because they saw him. “We don’t have to do anything, you know. We can just walk around him.” “Or go back and take a longer way.” Todoroki said just as deadpan. “But for how long?” Mei said with a slight hitch to her voice. “We’ve been doing a real good job talking to him when he’s bedbound, but now that he’s up, we can’t just keep ignoring him.” “Sure we can.” Mezo and, strangely, Tokoyami said at the same time – though the latter said ‘you’ instead of ‘we’. The two of them quickly exchanged a disturbed glance. Shoji looked intensely startled; the rest of them paused – and Shoto found himself at least a little uneasy by how very odd that had been. “Oh, for fucks sake.” Katsuki growled again after a moment. “I don’t know what you idiots have been doing, but the last time I spoke to Sensei, he was drugged half out of his mind. I’m not gonna avoid the dipshit just because he’s…” The blonde stopped and seemed to struggle to find the right words. “…Sensei.” “What is he doing, anyway?” Midoriya blinked and frowned. They all looked back to the target of their conversation. “He’s just… Standing there. Looking at the sky a bunch.” Mei similarly frowned. “Maybe he noticed all the little weird differences, too?” “Like the tree thing?” Todoroki blinked. “And the sky,” Mei began to ramble, entire body trembling. “And the way the air smells and it’s getting a little late, so we can probably see the moon soon, so maybe Sensei is trying to see what he can –” “He looks relaxed.” Shoji interrupted Mei with a soft tone that still somehow did the job. Then, silence fell for a few seconds. Shoto glanced from face to disturbed face; eventually, he landed on his own scarred mirror image. Todoroki seemed to know what he was thinking and gave him a tilt of his head and slightly raised brows that Shoto took to mean ‘if you want to, go for it’. So, he took a deep breath. Then, he started to walk towards Sensei. “Wha –” Katsuki sputtered. “Oh, no you don’t! If you’re in, I’m in!” Shoto didn’t have to look back to know that the others were following him now. The strange thing was, Sensei didn’t seem to realize that they were approaching. He had turned around at some point, his back to them, but back at the house, Sensei always seemed to know who was doing what and when. Was it because he no longer had his tracking device? Was he still under some of the mind-fogging medication? Or, and Shoto wasn’t sure how he felt about the final idea that popped in to his head, was it that Sensei didn’t care enough about them to keep track of them now? Did Sensei consider himself free of them? “Sensei.” Shoto said once he was close enough. Just to get his attention. Slightly unkept black hair ruffled as Sensei turned – and this was the first time Shoto had seen him out of bed since the day he had collapsed out of the portal and now that he looked at the man that had raised him, he looked… Wrong. Disheveled. Not at all like the neat and tidy person that he has grown up under. “Children…” That was the same voice and the same greeting that he had used over the years, though, when a number of them had ever approached him. “I wasn’t aware that…” He stopped and looked past him. Shoto had to glance back to see which of the others Sensei had been distracted by. It was Midoriya – suddenly looking terrified – who gave an extremely awkward wave. “Are you… Izuku?” Sensei looked surprised. Oh. This would be the first time Sensei would have ever seen Midoriya, wouldn’t it? Some of the other locals had gone to see Sensei, if only briefly, and Shoto had been with Shoji, Tokoyami and Todoroki only a few days ago in that all white room. But both he and Mezo were still alive and Fumikage had been the last one to be shipped out – before Mashirao, technically, but had that been a ‘shipped out’ situation or closer to a ‘prisoner of war’ kind of thing? – but Izuku… It had been over a decade. “Midoriya Izuku, yeah.” The green-haired boy laughed nervously. It was quiet for a brief few seconds. Before it could become well and truly awkward, Katsuki shoved himself to the front of their little group. “Sensei.” The blonde wasn’t growling, but the usual scowl was on his face. “We want to talk to you.” “Of course.” Sensei gave them a smile – that smile, the calm one that still looked too fake – and a nod. “I think I passed by a table with some chairs not too far down the path if you prefer to sit.” So, quietly, they had trailed behind Sensei – as they had done so many times back at the house, both before and after they had all learned about the big secret – in near silence. Mei’s trembling was setting off some kind of rattling noise and Shoto wasn’t sure if it was nerves or the caffeine she had ingested; either way, he gave her a concerned look. The ‘table and chairs’ ended up being a picnic style wooden bench in a small rounded clearing connected to the path. Shoto had to admit that the layout of the grounds here did remind him of the ‘idyllic’ theme the house had pulled off, only with much less signs of use. Back at the house, chairs often had scratches and dents and the dining room’s center table had never recovered from a temper tantrum Katsuki had once pulled when he was a bratty seven-year-old. Here, everything looked new, shiny and smooth. The hard cement ground didn’t have a single line in it that wasn’t designed to be there and these benches and the table it was under looked like it could have been carved the day before. Maybe it was all new. Hadn’t the kids from this world said that the dorm buildings – all of them – had been built in three days? That no one had actually lived here until recently? Shoto was still musing about this little curiosity when he sat down wedged between Todoroki and Mei. They all sat almost all on one side of the table, leaving Sensei with nearly half of the bench on the other side all to himself. He might have still been lost in thought – and it was still strangely nice to be able to get lost in ideas that didn’t mean anything or matter in the long run – if a bunch of drink cans hadn’t been dropped on the table, letting off a clatter that snapped him out of it. Surprised, Shoto looked up to find Shoji shuffling the cans around and opening a couple of them. “So…” Katsuki started. But then he stopped; his teeth were grinding a little. “You had brothers and sisters too, huh?” Mei piped up suddenly, sounding sad. A quiet glance from everyone went to her. Shoto could feel himself frown deeply as he took a gleaming red can. “Oh… I do remember saying something about that at some point.” Sensei looked uncomfortable despite that smile; or, Shoto had to consider, he might have learned how to see through the mask. “The medicines here made everything a little odd. I’m sorry, but I don’t fully remember most of the conversations that we had.” “You told us that you tried to escape once.” Mei said a little more softly. Sensei looked at the still closed can that had been slid in front of him. The mask of a smile slipped ever so slightly. “I haven’t really thought about that in a long time. It’s true that we tried, yes. But, like I’m sure you were at the start, we were ignorant and naïve. We were able to get to the top of the back wall, same as you did. After that, we were stuck. There was no way out.” Then, he looked to Mei. “We didn’t have someone like you with us.” Mei shifted in place. Under the table, Shoto took hold of her hand. She clung back tightly. “What happened?” Surprisingly, Mezo was the one that asked. “Nothing nearly as fantastic as what happened to you all, I’m afraid.” Sensei still wore that smile, but it looked a little more sad. “We suspected that the house we grew up in wasn’t what our Sensei said that it was, but we were younger than you all. We didn’t know enough and we were too afraid to go to the older children with our questions. We were afraid that we would be laughed at and mocked for our concerns. At the time, the idea of our Sensei being… Wrong in some way sounded so ludicrous.” Shoto had to admit that he knew the feeling. He had spent years talking to Mei alone, thinking that the rest of the kids wouldn’t believe a thing that he told them. Sensei had always acted too kind to them, had disciplined them strictly through disappointment and the occasional canceled quirk, but there had never been violence. How much had Sensei learned from the person that had raised him? Were all of the Senseis like this, perpetually smiling, pretending to be kind? Was it some kind of coping mechanism? If Katsuki and Kyoka had not seen what they had seen, they probably never would have believed him. Not with the way Sensei was. They probably never would have tried to escape.A sigh came from Sensei. “So the four of us went to the back wall on our own. We were just smart enough to know not to bring any ropes or anything that our Sensei might find, so little Ken used his cement quirk to lift us up.” He shook his head slightly. “He was only nine. We never should have involved him…”“Wait.” Midoriya suddenly interrupted. “Cement quirk?” He exchanged a nervous glance with Shoji and Tokoyami.“Do you think…?” Tokoyami frowned.Midoriya looked to Sensei again. “Was he… Square-shaped and gray? Like he was made out of blocks?”“…Yes.” Sensei looked startled, but only for a moment. Then, the calm smile came back. “Oh. There’s someone like him in this world, too. It seems strange, how there’s so many of the people I had known here in this place. I’m glad that they’re alive in some way, I suppose.”Shoto felt something in the air sink; it took a moment for him to catch on to why, to notice the startled and wide-eyed awkwardness on some of the faces around him.“Wait a sec.” Katsuki’s brows were furrowed in deep, concentrated confusion. “The block guy, Cementoss? Wasn’t one of the little kids his, uh, kid? Genetically?”“What?” Sensei’s smile faded in to blank confusion.“Oh, we can test people’s genetically here to see if they’re related.” Midoriya said it with a small flinch. “Some of the others came up as related to people here, but they aren’t really related. It’s a bit confusing, I know.”“What?” Sensei still looked like he didn’t quite understand. “Are you telling me that one of my children is related to Ken?”Shoto could feel himself stiffen at the words ‘my children’; he felt Mei’s hand in his own go hard as well. Still, part of him hoped that this would hurt. “Junmoya is Ken’s son, yes.”It did; Shoto could see the way Sensei’s eyes flickered in to something real. The way that his chest stopped as breath caught for just a moment; that Sensei knew, now, that he would have sent the son of his childhood friend to the slaughter if things had gone according to the demon’s plan. Satisfaction burned in his gut.But, then, Sensei calmed down. It only took a few seconds. “Well… That is a surprise.”“That kinda leads me to another question, though.” Katsuki glowered. “Where the hell are our parents? Our real parents. Where did we come from?”There was a long pause. Sensei looked back at the still unopened can in front of him. It occurred to Shoto, then, that he might not have yet learned how to open it. “There’s only three places that I know of where the children come from. There could be more, of course, all the information I had ever received was strictly on a need-to-know basis. No point in teaching the sheepdog more tricks than necessary to herd the sheep, I suppose.”Mei visibly cringed next to him at yet another comparison to animals.“There are some free humans.” Sensei sounded like he was musing aloud; as if he was lost in thought more than participating in the conversation. “Well, ‘more free’ than most would be more accurate. They raised the food that we ate. The pigs, cows, chickens, that sort of food. They give some of their children up. I don’t know if it’s in payment to keep themselves from becoming worse off themselves or part of some other agreement, but I know some children come from them.”That sounded both horrifying and logical all at once. Shoto wondered what he would do in the same situation; if given the option to live a long and generally happy life only to give up his own children for it, would he do it? What would he have done to stay alive if they had never escaped?If he had been given the same option as Mashirao must have, to become a Sensei in exchange for staying alive, would he have done it? Shoto gulped at the very idea that he well and truly didn’t know.But had that been what Sensei had really done for all of these years? Done what he could just to stay alive? Now that he thought about it, even after everything, even with the anger that still broiled, could he really blame Sensei alone for it?“Some others come from other Senseis and caretakers.” This time, the expression that crossed Sensei’s face was bothered. “I was informed that part of the graduation for everyone that made it to that point was to either bear or sire a child. The women have it slightly worse off in that arrangement, I imagine. I was the only one that had ever been exempt on account of how old I was when I finished the program.” A small, bitter laugh. “Apparently, even they don’t think fourteen-year-olds should have children.” A quiet glance went around the table. The Sensei training facility was where Mashirao – where both of them – were now. If they couldn’t find him or get to him in time… Or, worse, at all… “But most of the children, I think… Most of the stock comes from what I can only describe as a ‘breeding center’.”A small gasp came from somewhere else on their little table and Shoto didn’t look to see who had let it out.If Sensei heard it, he didn’t let it show. “I don’t know where it is or how many people are kept inside. I know none of the details other than it exists.” He looked thoughtful for a moment. “I’m not even sure if there’s different centers for different quality of meat. Or if they’re only for the lower quality farms.”“The best cuts of A5 wagyu beef comes from cattle bred for the best traits.” Came, somehow menacingly, from Tokoyami.“That’s still not helping.” Shoji said with a physical wince.“He’s not wrong, though.” Katsuki said softly and let out another snort. “I mean, I don’t know half of those stupid words, but still not wrong.”“So there would only be two places little Ken-san would have ended up.” Sensei sounded like he was still musing. “Hopefully, he became a Sensei.”“And what’s that say about back home that a lifetime of sending kids off to die is considered the more favorable option?” Mezo said with a groan.Shoto sighed as he glanced, for a moment, to the table. Then, he looked back to Sensei.He still hated him. Shoto didn’t know if it was right or not, but, even now, he still felt that twinge of anxiety every time he saw Sensei’s face. It even went off when he saw the other one, Aizawa, who was so unlike Sensei in every other way other than looks that they may as well not even be related at all, let alone technically the same person.Yet, after all of it, after trying to imagine himself doing anything differently than what Sensei described, he simply… Couldn’t. Sensei had been younger than he was when he started being responsible for the deaths of kids his own age.Shoto clutched Mei’s hand; he received a quick squeeze back.“Did you ever think about helping us escape?” Shoto asked quietly.“Once or twice. Early on.” Sensei gave a small nod. “But Sensei Chiyo convinced me that it would be a terrible idea. Literal suicide. Even if I had decided to help a hundred children escape, it would lead only to the house getting a new batch of children and a new Sensei. And who would know better how to stay alive than an eighty-three-year-old woman who may have legitimately been the oldest human alive in what passed for our society?” A pause. “I suppose the only difference this time is that I survived the ordeal.”“Did you think that you would, when you helped the others?” Surprisingly, Todoroki was the one that asked it.“No.” That smile turned raw. “But once I learned that an entire other world existed here, I thought it was the safest place for my children to go. That they… That you couldn’t be hunted down here. I was surprised to wake up again.” Then, Sensei looked up at the canopy of trees overhead. “I know that none of you will forgive me for what I did for so many years, but here we are. After all of it, here we are.”The mask of a smile slipped; when Sensei looked back to them, he looked right at him. Shoto tensed.The smile that crossed Sensei’s face, this time, looked real. “I have no regrets.” ---------------------------How the hell did the League get his number?!To say that Aizawa was annoyed would be something of an understatement. Granted, his non-emergency line wasn’t exactly private, but it wasn’t something a simple google search would have given up, either. Outside of eccentric fans – had the League put their tactics to use? Did the League even know how the fanatics did things? – they shouldn’t have had any standard way to contact him.Yet, here he was, staring at Mr. Compress who was god-only-knows-where. A secret villain lair, probably, like the ones from those old campy movies.“What do you want?” Aizawa glared at the screen. “If you’re calling to taunt me, know that I am really, really not in the mood.”“I doubt there would ever be a situation where you would be ‘in the mood’, good sir!” Compress had his theatrical voice on, but there was something off about it. A slight tremble that made Aizawa suspicious. “But, no, this call is not –”Somewhere in the background on the villain’s side of the call, someone screamed. It wasn’t a cry of pain, though, but a man’s shriek of anger. Aizawa couldn’t place who was the one yelling, but it immediately set him on edge.Whoever it was that had shouted, it had apparently shaken Compress. At least, it took him a moment to get back to the conversation. “Apologies for the interruption! I assure you, Aizawa, this is purely a business call.”“A business call?” Aizawa repeated; he had already set off the recording app on his phone so he may as well keep the villain talking. “Again, what the hell do you want?”“Do you have any idea what this is, by any chance?” Compress held up something reflective; it took a moment to recognize the blue glass as one of the compress orbs.It took a second longer to be able to see the vague figure inside of it. When the resolution on the screen finally focused, Aizawa felt his jaw drop.There was a demon inside of that compress orb.There was a demon inside of that compress orb.“By your expression and lack of follow-up questions, I’m going to say that you do.” Compress sounded relieved. The orb was moved out of the way of the camera. “And thank goodness for that.” The theatrics were dropped.Then, Aizawa noticed the shimmer of metal from Compress’s arm as he put the orb out of view. For a moment, he mistook the glimmer for some kind of jewelry, but, no, Compress’s entire left arm was now made of metal. A prosthetic limb?On top of that, the movement of the hat Compress wore as his head moved ever so slightly let off an odd reflection; black had a tendency to hide things, but dried blood tended to cake itself in a way that fabric alone couldn’t hide.What the hell was going on here?!“Let me be frank with you.” Compress then slid off his mask; the black fabric he wore underneath it was torn and missing chunks. The missing pieces revealed a large, vicious-looking scar marring his face. It looked like a recent wound; it looked like he had been lucky not to lose an eye from whatever it was that gave him that. “We had something of an altercation with several of these… Creatures several days ago.”Another enraged scream came from the background.“To our surprise, these things were quite capable of talking and, well, they told us quite a few things.” Compress seemed eager to ignore the yelling, though his eyes darted to the side. “They mentioned that they came from ‘another world’. They then ate someone and stole their quirk in the process. After that, they mentioned you specifically, by name, and a school.” The villain let out a long, shaky breath. “Now, I understand we have our differences. Quite frankly, I’m pretty sure we loathe each other. But when creatures from possibly another planet suddenly shows up and starts eating people with threat of potential invasion, that is the point where I personally decide that things are a bit beyond the pale.”It sounded like he had practiced that speech for a long time.“They mentioned me by name?”“Well,” Compress looked uneasy. “One of them mentioned a ‘Sensei Shoto’ and a school and we put two and two together. After we dealt with the situation, we had quite a discussion, but we all mostly agreed that getting in to contact with you seemed like the best course of action.”Aizawa could not believe he was even thinking this, but Compress might have done the best thing he could. If the demons had made a confirmed second point of entry somewhere outside U.A.’s grounds, it was, at the very least, highly problematic. At the worst, catastrophic. Who cares where help came from, at that point, as long as it showed up.“What do you want?” The question, this time, came more cautiously.“Honestly? Just to give this to you.” Compress held up the orb again. “The thing inside of it is still alive. The rest that we encountered are not, other than one that escaped with a member of our troupe.”“They took one of yours?” Aizawa frowned.“Oh –” Compress started but was interrupted by another yell. He took a deep breath; his mouth turned in to a thin line and he seemed visibly frustrated. “Yes. Yes, they did. Twice is not handling it very well. They took dear little Himiko and he has not been an inch in the way towards coherence since.”“They took Toga?”“I admit, the odds that she hasn’t been eaten by these creatures is likely slim.” Compress visibly winced. “But we just want to hand this thing over to you. This is far, far beyond our stance against hero society, Stain’s message, and all of the politics involved.”‘Politics’ was a funny way to say ‘we attacked children on a school trip and kidnapped one of them’, but Aizawa knew that this was not the time for an argument or a yelling match. “You want to meet for this?”“Ideally.” Compress looked thoroughly relieved. “I rather not risk this thing getting loose. Should you prefer police attendance, I merely ask that you don’t arrest me.”Aizawa honestly wasn’t sure if that was a thing that he could promise – or even if he wanted to – but he gave a nod anyway. “A fair exchange.”“Good.” The relief on the other end of the screen could have been tangible. “A time and place of your choosing, then.”This wasn’t the direction Aizawa thought the day would go, but, all things considered, this could have been worse. -------------------The second-year students were allowed a personal item. Ojiro was told this as he was led to his new room in a hallway completely empty and devoid of anyone else. Though, the doors to the other small rooms were open and they looked just as tiny and plain as the first-year rooms. Maybe he had just been let in before the rest of them for some reason. Did the second-year students have longer days? God, he hoped not.He decided that there wasn’t much of a point to ask; he’d figure it out by tomorrow, he supposed. The man that led him along seemed amused by his silence.What, exactly, was considered a ‘personal item’ here? Ojiro didn’t think he had come to this universe with anything other than his school uniform. He remembered the fight back at U.A. and the portal, but he was pretty sure that he had left everything – his backpack, his books, all of his school supplies – back at the dorm.So it was a hell of a surprise to find his cellphone on the bed.It was also incredibly frustrating. His phone was one of the newer solar-powered models, but he had been outside and in real sunlight only once since he had gotten here; what were the odds that his phone even had a charge? And if it did, would it connect to anything? It felt like just having the phone was the universe itself mocking him.Still, knowing that it was probably little more than a metal brick, he picked it up and turned it on.Then, it actually turned on.Ojiro was so startled that he fumbled with the phone for a moment. It still had a charge; somehow, the battery was at a solid 78% and he didn’t know how. Baffled, he managed to get his shaking hands to flicker through the settings before he found that, somehow, it had gone in to ‘fluorescent mode’. He hadn’t even known that it could charge off of normal overhead lights.Still, the phone had nothing to connect to. It didn’t matter what kind of battery it had or how it got the power, it didn’t matter if there was no reception. The technology just didn’t exist here. The only thing that the phone had was the few songs he had saved on to the device, whatever apps that still worked, and… Text logs.The group chat didn’t need a constant connection to work. He could read everything sent until the phone lost a signal.Ojiro sat down on the bed and scrolled through. He found himself smiling sadly at what he saw.He remembered these conversations when they had been fresh. An argument a week before everything happened had gone off strictly through the chat between Ashido and Kaminari; the latter kept on sticking charging plugs in his own mouth to power things. The straw that broke Ashido’s back had been a hair dryer that, when she had plugged in the drool-covered end in to the wall, had given her an electric shock. Ojiro remembered everyone else laughing in incredulity about it, both in the chat and outside of it. He remembered Ashido coming down for breakfast with her hair frazzled and sparks coming off of her horns and how Kaminari had laughed until the pink girl had slugged him in the gut.Scrolling up further reminded him of the rumors that had gone around for a while that Tokoyami and Shoji had been secretly dating. Both had denied it repeatedly until Uraraka and Hagakure had tried to play ‘matchmaker’ to make them date. No one ever found out if the two had finally given in just to shut the girls up or if they ended up using the girls’ behavior as a cover for a real relationship.Ojiro remembered Hagakure trying to loop him in to their antics. She had begged him, once, to ask the two out on a trip only to abandon them during it because, somehow, that would help them ‘find true love’. At the time, he had been too afraid to ask if that was just a thing girls did to other girls or what. It took a moment to remember how he had distracted her away from enacting her plan; he had asked Hagakure to go to the support department to get upgrades to their Hero uniforms.They had spent a solid hour in the support department, Hagakure half hiding behind him for most of the time, away from Hatsume’s rambling and attempts to get them in to strange contraptions.“Communication is important!” Hatsume had yelled at one point, kicking a piece of misbehaving metal with every syllable. Ojiro still wasn’t sure if she had been talking only about the upgrades she had been suggesting or about Hagakure’s quiet hiding. “Did you know that villains can disrupt traditional lines of communication with quirks and jamming devices and all sorts of stuff?! But no one is going to expect an invisible hero or a martial arts hero to have the tech to bypass it! Look at these wrist guards! Baby 27-C! They have their own RF beacons inside, so even if there’s no satellite or cell phone towers, or someone’s quirk getting in the way, a Pro Hero can pick up signals to any device!”Both he and Hagakure had been so intimidated that they had just gone along with whatever Hatsume had said. At the time, he hadn’t thought that voicing his opinion – that cell phone towers were everywhere, that anti-jamming devices already existed, or that satellites practically covered the planet – would make much of a difference. They had both just slipped the prototypes under their hero uniform gloves and walked away.But, now, remembering it, it felt like a revelation.Ojiro knew that he had been stuck here for far too long. It had been over a month, now, almost two. There was a chance that the Pro Heroes that came to rescue him might have already been here and had not be able to find him; this was, after all, a whole different universe. There were no satellites; there were no cell phone towers. Even if there were, this entire compound could have a jamming device. There could be people from back home making repeated return trips and he would have no idea.But now he had a cellphone. He wouldn’t know if it could help unless he got outside of this place. It felt, annoyingly, like Schrödinger’s Cat; the cell phone both would be able to and wouldn’t be able to connect to anything until he got out of this place.Though, that did kind of clear things up about what to do next. He had to get out of here. There was, technically, only one way to do so without setting off that implant in his chest; he had to graduate and be put in a house somewhere. He had already been moved up one year; what had Ken-sensei said? The fastest anyone had ever gotten out was in two years?And Neito had said that just doing the minimum to survive wouldn’t be enough. That the people here wanted to see more.The more Ojiro thought about this new plan, the more it sounded both like a terrible idea and the best course of action. If he could show these people that he was good enough to keep advancing, he might be able to get somewhere where the Pro Heroes could find him.The cellphone in his hands reflected the overhead lights. The chat window, connected to nothing, glistened with text. Ojiro scrolled back to the bottom, to the most recent messages. Knowing no one would likely see it, he tapped in some new words.
I’ll try my best.
The red boxed warning that it would be sent when the phone was within range came up.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

For a few days, things had actually gone pretty well. Comparatively, at least; ‘good’ would have been being back home and in his own universe, but beggars couldn’t be choosers, Ojiro supposed. At first, on that first morning joining the second-year class, he had been worried that Neito’s warning would become true almost immediately. He had anticipated the same kinds of glares and affront that the blonde had inspired; just him being there was a threat, wasn’t it? His arrival meant more competition for survival. Instead, he had sat down at the edge of the long bench that was either picnic style or prison style, depending how you looked at it – and he still didn’t know if it was age order or something else, but he was at the very end of it this time – with no one sitting in front of him, a pale boy with wild dark hair sitting to his left and a beautiful petite girl with long, solid straight pale blue locks diagonally across. Thankfully, he didn’t recognize either of them; they didn’t remind him in a strange, painful way of people he knew back home. They weren’t familiar. He had expected harsh words. Maybe a threat. Maybe a simple ‘watch your back’ or something from those prison movies he had seen once in a while. Instead, the black-haired boy glanced to him, then to the first-years table across the massive cafeteria, then did a double-take a few times. Eventually, he stared at some point in between the two and said, quietly, “Those sons of bitches.” “Ssh,” The blue-haired girl looked both amused and panicked. “Someone might hear you!” “They split up twins, Saiko…!” Wild black curls flew with every sudden motion that the older teen took. Did he shower? When he turned to look at him properly, Ojiro could see that his pupils were shaped like diamonds. He didn’t have a stench; he probably bathed. “Are you okay?” “Uhm.” He actually wasn’t sure how to answer that. Was this a trick? Figure out if the newbie is emotionally weak or not? “I guess so?” “You guess so?” The black-haired boy looked concerned. “Don’t mind him, he’s very expressive.” The blue-haired girl – Saiko – smiled softly. “I’m Saiko, he’s Yo.” “Ojiro.” He was still wary even as he introduced himself. “So, what’s your quirk?” Yo smiled innocently. Ah. There it was. Figuring out your competition’s strengths and weaknesses. All Ojiro did was point to his tail. Yo looked down at the tail on the bench between them. He then looked back up at Ojiro before slowly panning around to stare at an amused Saiko, jaw hanging in amazement. It took a couple of seconds for him to say anything. “They split up twins, Saiko!” “Cruelty for the sake of cruelty does seem to be a thing that happens here once in a while.” Saiko let out a sigh. She then smiled again at him. It looked nice on her. “Don’t worry, I doubt anyone’s going to treat you any differently than anyone else.” Surprisingly, she had been right. As far as Ojiro had been able to see, every one of the second-years – there were, according to the scoreboard, fifty-three of them including himself – were more scandalized by the idea of twins separated from each other than a new classmate that might get in the way. He couldn’t even correct them, that he barely even knew the other teen that shared his face, that it didn’t really hurt – okay, it did a little – that the most he could do now was wave to the semi-familiar faces across the room at meal times. It was fine. Sort of. He could adjust. He knew that he could. Certainly now that he had something resembling a plan; he had to show the people in charge that he was competent and skilled enough to keep boosting forward. He was already one year up, that meant four left to go. U.A. had been a three-year education. Ojiro told himself that it wasn’t that different. That once he was out of here – and maybe he could even come close to that two-year record, who knew – he could find a way back home. There was a plan. He had a plan. That plan came to a screeching halt less than a week later. By then, Ojiro had learned that the second-years did, in fact, have a longer day, but not for any particularly horrifying reason. The equivalent of home economics had them cooking dinner every night and then help with the cleanup. It made sense, he supposed; it was something fairly valuable to life in general, let alone taking care of children. He had been about on par with most of the class in this particular subject, not counting a couple of apparent chef geniuses that had the rest of them a little envious. He was not a threat, no one worth sabotaging; but he had to balance being ‘better than the rest, good enough to advance’ and ‘won’t take your spot at the end, don’t target me’. It had been near the start of one of those cooking classes – they hadn’t even gotten the right pots and pans out for everyone yet – when a loud, frantic knock came from the door. Their instructor – another one of the Wild Wild Pussycats, a version of Ragdoll who was just as peppy and cheerful as the one from back home, and Ojiro was constantly wondering why and how this was even possible – had actually jumped at the noise. Sensei Tomoko had a pure look of confusion when she opened the door. Sensei Ken stood on the other side, cement block head physically sweating. From where he was across the room and next to several running stoves, Ojiro couldn’t hear them, but he could see the panic on both of their faces. After a few minutes, Tomoko gave Ken a frantic nod before turning back to the curiously onlooking students. “Everyone! No time to explain! Turn off all the stoves, put out all the fires, you’re all heading back to your rooms!” This was clearly out of the norm; everyone looked confused and alarmed. Still, no one argued or asked questions; least of all himself. Though, the sudden panic made him instantly alert; a sudden change in routine and a need to get to a more secure location typically meant that something big was going on. Something like a potential attack – or a rescue mission. Was that what was happening? Was it time? Were Pro Heroes from back home finally here and looking for him? Following at the back of the line in the hall, Ojiro glanced around in search of any proper hallway or room he could duck in to. Somewhere that he could start making moves if that was what it was, somewhere where he could get the attention of whoever was coming in. Gasps from further up the line threw him out of his thoughts. They were passing one of the few windows to the outside. As the people ahead of him glanced outside, each and every one of them instantly looked alarmed and terrified. When it was finally his turn, he did the same. There were those things outside. The large creatures in charge of this universe, the things his other self had called demons. There were only three of them, but one stood tall and slender in the center, wearing what looked like long robes that glimmered under the fading sunset, encrusted with a great deal of lace and what looked like gems. It had an ornate mask covering the top of its face that looked entirely ornamental. The other two demons were shorter, but were wide, had clear muscles, and looked like they could murder a human being just by poking them too hard. Sensei Ken was talking to them; he looked more than nervous. Why were they here? He hadn’t seen them since the fight, since he had been dragged in to that portal, since the offer of survival had been made. By the looks on everyone else’s faces ahead of him, they were equally as shocked. Well, the odds of this being a rescue for his behalf just went down a whole lot. All thought of looking for an escape route went with it; instead, Ojiro continued to follow the rest of the pack. He walked as quickly as he could in to the tiny little room marked as his own as soon as he could; he heard more than saw all the doors slide shut in the hallway. Once inside, he saw his phone on his bed. It was still on. He had never bothered to turn it off. But he had turned it on a little while ago, hadn’t he? He had thought it just had been on nonstop for the past month or so, so he hadn’t been worried about it, but if he had just turned it on… If it had tried to automatically connect to something… Were those demons here because of that?! In a frenzy, Ojiro picked up the phone. A cursory check brought up nothing unusual; it hadn’t connected to any nonexistent wifi or cell towers. There were no new messages or emails or downloads going on. It was, seemingly, just… A dead weight phone. Disconnected from everything. Still, anxiety burned in his gut. He sat on the floor, leaning against the side of the bed, for what felt like a very long time. Dinner would be coming up soon and he knew he should have been hungry, but his appetite did not make an appearance. After a while, a harsh knock came from the hall. He jumped. The door to his room slid open.------------------  Aizawa watched them from a distance. Really, there was no reason to intrude on their conversation. A small flock of a mix of his own students and the children from that other world sat across from his own doppelganger and he was perfectly fine with leaving them alone; he couldn’t hear the conversation at that picnic table from where he stood, but it didn’t look like a pleasant one. Anxiety was written clear as day across all of their faces – even his own lookalike looked tense, smile on his face or not – and from where he was, Aizawa could see Shoto and Mei’s hands clutching each other under the table. Why get involved with that? He had a feeling that he’d only make things worse; an authority figure that would kill any chatter just by being there. And it was just a little strange that he was an authority figure over technically himelf. So, he decided to wait. It was a nice day outside – the winter chill was probably a solid couple of months off – and there were more than a few students and teachers alike roaming the grounds. If it hadn’t been this close to finals, there would probably be mobs of people outside. As it was, he had spotted a couple of people studying quietly here and there, but everyone else was probably indoors and cramming over textbooks. As it was, for now, in this part of the school, it was just… Him. And them. And himself, in a way that still felt completely off the rails. It was still strange, seeing this version of himself. He hadn’t known just how bizarre it was – had probably been a little naïve to think that his students could just accept the situation and adjust when their own lookalikes literally fell through a hole in reality – until that man, that Shota, had fallen out of that portal and nearly gotten himself killed in doing so. This entire ‘alternate universe’ thing had almost caused a few existential crises amongst his fellow faculty members, as well; not too long ago, Cementoss had nearly hyperventilated when he had seen the young boy that was, by all accounts, technically his son. Hell, his cement-based coworker had watched over those kids for weeks, had probably spoken to that boy more than once, and had never known. In that other world, were the men and women ‘lucky’ enough to raise the children who were actually livestock, did they even know if they were raising their own? Was the lack of information part of how those so-called ‘demons’ maintained control?How that other world functioned was a trial to piece together, but Aizawa was confident that they had a good chunk of information on hand. It wasn’t that much different than figuring out the hierarchy of some of the larger villain groups, the sort that kept things as secretive as possible. The near cult-like kinds. This was just on a much larger scale.The children were leaving.The movement of bodies is what shook him out of his thoughts; Aizawa waited until the young men and woman shuffled away, chatting quietly to each other with frowns and disturbed expressions. They went back around the path; none of them saw him lingering a distance away. Sensei Shota was still at the table; he had a closed can of a fruity-flavored cola in front of him. He was staring at it.Aizawa waited until the children were gone before he approached. He made sure that his footsteps were loud enough – purposefully stepping on a few branches here and there – to let his lookalike know that he was coming.The fake smile plastered itself on Shota’s face as he turned to look at him.Seeing that expression on his own face was still creepy. It didn’t help that he knew that, had he been born in that universe instead of this one, he would have absolutely ended up the same way. This man was living proof of it.“You don’t have to smile for me, you know.” Aizawa couldn’t help but at least try to get rid of the creep-factor.“Oh… I know.” And even Shota’s voice was different; lower octave, softer. The smile twitched. “It’s… Somewhat automatic. Has been for a very long time. I’m not sure I can stop it.”Aizawa remembered training to be a Pro Hero. In his youth, he had practiced to make his voice more gruff and threatening – had been inspired by the few underground pros that had gotten some media attention – until it came as a second nature. He didn’t even have to think about it; out in the field, his voice became rough without having to force it. He wondered, in that other world, if this version of himself had similarly practiced to make himself the exact opposite purely to satisfy the demons that must have judged him. Had he forced this persona on himself to stay alive and had done so for so long that he couldn’t free himself from it now?“How are you handling things here?” He tried to make the question sound conversational; not an interrogation.“It’s…” Shota paused and looked away for a moment; the expression on his face, with that Stepford Smile, was barely at the edge of troubled. “…Different, here. I have to admit, everything feels completely foreign. The lights turn on by themselves, for one thing.”Oh. None of them had bothered to ask about the level of technology available on the other side, had they? The fashion worn by his other self had certainly been anachronistic, but were the automatic lights really that startling?“We didn’t have much of that back at the house.” Shota must have taken the silence as an invitation to explain further. “The… Televisions, I think you call them, the flat glass images… They had some of that when I was training to become a caretaker, and the house had a radio to make daily reports, but I’ve never seen anything close to the machines you have here.”They had confirmed that the other world had, at the very least, very basic GPS. Rudimentary satellites for the tracking devices. It was possible that the demons kept all advanced technology to themselves and left their human slaves with things hundreds of years behind in development. Aizawa made a mental note to tell the other Pro Heroes and police connected to this situation about these suspicions.“Not to mention, your entire civilization is difficult to grasp.” Now that Shota was talking, it seemed he didn’t want to stop. “The ‘hero society’ with ‘villains’. It’s fascinating and confusing and I’m not sure I’d be able to really understand it without seeing some of it for myself.”That was fair; almost every one of the students here at U.A., even after a lifetime of imbibing information from media of all sorts, never quite got a true understanding of it until they were in the fray themselves. The U.S.J. incident was what truly nailed home the dangers of the job to his own brood, but that kind of thing was – used to be – out of the norm.Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea, though…“Would you like to?” Aizawa stared at his lookalike.“What?” Shota blinked up with surprise visible despite the smile.“Would you like to see some of ‘hero society’?”For a moment, all Shota did was blink at him. ------------------------  “So what, exactly, is the plan?” Ashido asked once the last of them got together in 1-A’s dorm lobby. It was the question that was on everyone’s mind; glances went around. Anticipation over who would say what first hung over the entirety of the nineteen students present. For a moment, no one took the lead. “Do we have a plan?” Kaminari whimpered. “As of right now, we’re still following them, aren’t we?” Yaoyorozu said with a deeply concerned frown. No one had to ask who the ‘them’ she referred to was. “They’re going to go back no matter what anyone says.” It was clear that she didn’t like it. “At this point, I don’t think anyone can convince them otherwise.” Iida let out a small sigh. “No matter how dangerous or ill-advised or if Pro Heroes with more experience –” “You had the same plan.” Hagakure’s voice carried incredulity so strong, it was nearly tangible. “You did the same exact thing with Bakugo!” A deep, embarrassed flush crossed Iida’s face. He didn’t argue. “Different as fuck this time, though.” The blonde in question said a little too quietly from one of the kitchen tables. “I really, really fucking hate to say this, but we can’t go with those idiots.” Every face in the room turned in identical surprise. “You don’t want to go on a crazy inter-dimensional rescue mission?!” Sero boggled. “Yeah, no offense, we all figured you’d be super gung-ho about this.” Kaminari blinked. “I know we kind of made a mess of things in Kamino Ward…” Kirishima said with a wince. “If it’s about –” “Shut it, shitty hair.” Bakugo rolled his eyes. Then, he glared icily at no one on particular, gaze roaming around the people present. “There’s too many layers to this shit and I don’t like it. It’s more than just a rescue op, if even one stupid little thing goes wrong –” “Ah!” Midoriya gave a thoughtful nod from one of the couches. “We were talking about this before, actually…” “If we get caught, we don’t have to worry about just getting killed.” Todoroki said from the same couch as Midoriya. “But how they use the quirks they steal from us after we’re dead.” “Deku, don’t fucking interrupt me again. Same to you, half-and-half. But, yeah, it’s not like doing shit here.” Bakugo let out a small growl. “I got caught up by some shitty villains –” He grimaced. “– but I knew if I could get out the front door, there’d be some fucking help. Not gonna have that in another fucking universe.” “Wait…” Uraraka frowned with confused thought. “The other, uhm, us, they have the same quirks we do. Why are we talking about it as if it’s less dangerous for them?” “Yeah, wouldn’t those demons get the same quirks?” Mineta asked with a blink. Then, he jolted as if shocked. “Unless… No, you don’t think…?” “…Oh.” Yaoyorozu gasped. “Oh, I hadn’t considered that before.” “Considered what?” Ashido blinked. “What, what’s being considered?” “Experience?” Todoroki boggled. “I was thinking about that before, but I couldn’t be sure.” Midoriya held a hand over his mouth in concentration. “If quirks are why they eat people, the question is why they took out some of our counterparts younger than others. I mean, I was a late bloomer, my quirk came in very late, so that part made a twisted kind of sense if they thought the other me wasn’t going to get one…” He winced. “Gotta think like the enemy.” Bakugo let out another growl. “They kept the kids with more powerful quirks alive longer so they learn how to use ‘em. These little farm animals do half the work, figure out their own quirks, learn that shit, and the demon fuckers get it all when the eat ‘em. They get a hell of a lot more than just the quirks.” “But their experience?” Todoroki clearly didn’t like this notion. “If that’s the case, when they eat someone, can they get things like memories and personalities as well?” “Let’s say for the sake of argument that they can.” Midoriya hissed as if in pain. “Probably for the sake of… Just for everything. We need to make those leaps in judgement. Following that, we’ve all spent our whole lives wanting to be Pro Heroes, how many of us have been training since we were little kids?” “Making our quirks as much like weapons as we could since we knew what we could do…” Uraraka frowned. “But they didn’t have Pro Heroes or an All Might to look up to,” Jiro anxiously twirled one of her earjacks. “They wouldn’t have…” “Not have the experience ingrained in them.” Shoji said from against a wall. “We tried to help them train. We saw for ourselves what they could do. Same quirks, but not the same skill.” “It would be foolish to give the enemy that kind of advantage.” Tokoyami said from the same wall; he was almost leaning against the taller multi-armed student. “Even unintentionally.” “Getting killed is usually unintentional.” Todoroki muttered. “So we’re just going to do… Nothing?” Hagakure squeaked. “Best fucking thing we can do.” Bakugo took in a deep breath; he didn’t like it, either. “We’re walking weapons that can be turned against everyone else. We go in, lag behind the Pros, get one of our asses caught, and it’s all fucked from there.” “And if they can actually absorb memories, they wouldn’t even need to keep anyone alive to interrogate.” Midoriya’s gaze was aimed at the coffee table and at nothing in particular. “Guys… They have no reason to keep Ojiro alive.” “Not outside of shits and giggles.” Bakugo let out a huff of breath. A heavy silence fell along them. “…So we’re just going to do nothing?!” Hagakure squeaked louder. “Maybe they kept him alive because his quirk’s not that great! He just has a tail! Maybe they have no reason to kill him!” “Other than the whole ‘information about a whole other fucking universe’ thing?” Bakugo boggled in the direction of Hagakure’s floating clothes. “Assuming they get memories when they eat people, the tactics here are just flat fucked, invisi-brains!” “And if you’re wrong?” Hagakure stood her ground; more than a few yes widened in surprise. “Didn’t that demon come here to try and… And haggle or something?! Why are the Pros even going in, then?!” “For confirmation.” Todoroki said flat. “To know one way or the other. If Ojiro’s still alive, they’ll get him back.” “You weren’t like this when Bakugo was kidnapped!” Hagakure let out an audible sniffle; it worked to summon both Uraraka and Ashido to her side. The latter started to wrap her in a sideways hug. “I know I wasn’t there, but Aizawa-sensei gave us that lecture, and you all said that some of you guys couldn’t be stopped…” “We were able to back out at any time.” Kirishima bit his lower lip. “We almost did a couple of times, we could’ve just walked back in to the street and no one would’ve even looked at us…” “There’s likely no streets or crowds to blend in to over there.” Yaoyorozu frowned sadly. “Not with the information we have so far.” “Too many fucking layers.” Bakugo snarled. “But we can’t just… Just…” Hagakure’s sniffling grew louder; drops of water appeared mid-air. Ashido still had her arms around her; the invisible girl collapsed on the couch, weeping softly in to the surrounding silence.------------------ The entire League of Villains didn’t show up for the pre-arranged meeting; it would have been stupid of them to do so, so Aizawa was not the least bit surprised by how few of them actually did show up. He did, however, share a glance with Detective Tsukauchi; perhaps they had brought in a bit too much security, all things considered. Maybe just a smidge.With the idea of a demon that needed to be restrained and the League of Villains in the same location, the local police and government had both suggested to have quite a strong presence. There were, including himself, three different Pro Heroes present on top of a small army of fully armed riot guards. A custom-build extra-large Iron Maiden was on hand for the demon, though they had a couple of regular sized ones just in case.They had promised not to arrest the League members if they cooperated. In the chance that they wouldn’t, though, or if some other brawl broke out, well…“Just three of them?” Hawks said with audible disappointment from nearby. “That’s no fun.”“We’re not here to have fun.” Endeavor already sounded like he was absolutely done for the day.“Still, I mean…” Hawks grinned in his usual impish fashion. “They’re not even the heavy hitters.”“Do I need to remind you that these ‘low hitter’ League members kidnapped a student and held them hostage for several days not too long ago?” Aizawa raised a brow at Hawks.He didn’t think he did. Hawks, at least, shut up.Only three members of the League showed up; Mr. Compress, in his full outfit and the mask covering his face, was at the lead; one hand was clutched at his side and it likely had the orb with the demon in it. The other was a clearly prosthetic arm; Aizawa blinked at it once but could only wonder how that happened. It looked like too old a wound to be from the demon attack. Next to Compress walked Spinner – who was, as he was known for, armed to the teeth. And next to him, unnaturally quiet and brimming with almost tangible fury, was Twice.From the corner of his eye, Aizawa caught movement; he turned to find Hawks, grinning like a loon, actually waving at the villains.The three League members stopped at once at the motion. Spinner stared at Hawks as if he had lost his mind; Endeavor did the same thing. Then, an expression of thorough annoyance crossed the lizard-like villain’s face as he suddenly but slowly grabbed hold of Twice’s hand – and Twice was actually trying to wave back before his cohort stopped him. Compress had turned to stare at the two other villains, but the mask on his face covered whatever expression he may have had.Well, this was off to a wonderful start.“Where are the rest of your friends?” Endeavor said with sheer venom.“Ah.” Compress said with only a little bit of alarm. “Shigaraki and Dabi are having some… Internal conflicting issues about this entire arrangement. They decided that it would be for the best not to be part of this. I do apologize… If…” Then, the villains noticed that someone unusual was in their company. Aizawa glanced behind him just to check to see how Shota was doing; his lookalike didn’t appear to be the least bit alarmed but did look extremely curious. Twice looked like he was having trouble understanding what he was seeing. Spinner squinted suspiciously. Compress was the one to speak first. “If I may dare ask… Is this a clone situation or a parallel universe situation?” Well, they were sharp, he had to give them that much. “Parallel universe.” Aizawa didn’t really see a reason why he had to hide that much; they had already come in to contact with demons, after all. “An escape from that universe is what started this entire situation, in fact.” Compress held up his hand and opened his palm; the orb with the demon lay on it. He stared at it for a moment. It was quite a bit to take in. Thankfully, everyone else present didn’t seem eager to rush it. “What?” Twice eventually sputtered out. “Toga’s in another universe?! How are we supposed to deal with that?! Should be easy as pie!” “It’s slightly better than an alien invasion, I guess…” Spinner mused aloud. “How?!” Twice yelped. “I would’ve preferred going in to space! Though, the ground is much nicer…” “Can we get this going, please?” Endeavor now looked like he was absolutely done. “Ah. Yes.” Compress seemed to shake himself out of a stunned shock. “I would like to warn you that this… Thing… Is very, very large and quite dangerous.” He held up the orb. No one needed to say anything else; everyone took a few steps back, creating a wide circle between the Pro Heroes, police and villains. The orb was set in the middle of the clearing. Compress stepped far enough away to join the rest of the villains. Then, with clear hesitation, he snapped his fingers. There was a flash of blue light. Then, a body erupted in an electric daze. And it was big. Aizawa found himself taking another step back in alarm; the last demon he had seen – the only one he had ever seen – had been thin, tall and lanky. It had worn at least rudimentary clothing and had spoken in a dialect that he had been tempted to call educated. The descriptions from Katsuki and Kyoka had been similar enough that, perhaps foolishly, he had assumed they all would be similar in appearance. Granted, that demon that had died on U.A. grounds had the long claws and teeth, but it had not been quite like this. This demon was significantly more muscular; it was much rounder, as well, reminding Aizawa oddly of the sumo wrestling matches that he had seen on TV once in a while. If it hadn’t been this odd shade of sickly green and if it wasn’t wearing what looked like an actual pair of trousers, it would have fit right in to one of those matches. The claws were mostly the same as the last demon, but they were thicker; a long, whip-like tongue lolled out between wolf like fangs beneath a single, horrific bright blue eye and long horns that curved up in to the sky. “I’ll kill you all!” The demon shrieked; the voice had a bleating, goat-like echo to it. It slurred. It also sounded, disturbingly enough, like a young girl. “Okay!” Hawks yelped, but it wasn’t a response to the demon; it was startled acceptance of the situation. Behind him, Shota was suddenly using him as cover. Aizawa decided that this was a perfectly reasonable reaction. “Fire!” Detective Tsukauchi yelled. Then, the riot guards lifted a series of guns. They fired darts; dozens of them plunged themselves in to the demon’s flesh. It screamed again, still sounding far too much like a little girl to be anything other than deeply disturbing. Claws lashed out, first at the villains – who all leaped back but made no move to attack – and then at the police. It seemed disoriented; perhaps from the compress orb. Then, something happened; that green skin visibly rippled as if it were made of water, taking on a more blue-ish hue. It faded in to a dark seafoam shade; the demon reeled, visibly startled. “What…?!” The voice, now, sounded as if it came from underwater. Then, Tsukauchi held a gun of his own. It fired; the cable-held end of a taser flung itself on to zombie-hued flesh. When the detective hit the button, the demon let out a loud, shrieking cry of pain that sounded garbled. The demon collapsed on to the ground. It twitched and moaned. “…Okay.” Hawks said again, a little more softly this time. “That was wild.” “How did you take it down so fast?!” Spinner openly gaped. “From what we’ve garnered from one of their corpses, they’re… The words used were ‘consumptive adaptive’.” Tsukauchi reeled back the taser and holstered it. “They are what they eat. So we made it consume some water.” “They gained a quirk after eating someone…” Compress sounded thoughtful. “And they took Toga…!” Twice was shaking in rage again. He then turned to the downed demon but didn’t make a move to get closer to it. “Where the hell did you take Toga!? Did you already eat her?!” “Twice…” Spinner let out a sigh. “I really don’t think it’s just going to tell us – ” Then, the demon started to laugh. It came out high pitched, a bit squeaky, and sounded far too much like a little girl giggling in innocent play. It didn’t move to get up, but it did let out a hiss of pain. Tsukauchi readied his taser again. The demon turned his head, large blue eye lurching disgustingly, towards the villains. “Probably already eaten, yeah.” The accent didn’t match the voice; it was too slurred and too surly. Like a middle-aged worker who drank too much. “Heard that th’ meat from this universe is sweeter than anything we got. Better’n anythin’ from the farms, and she looked like she’d be a good ripe age… Maybe even serve ‘er at the big feast…” It laughed again. “Farms…?” Compress asked softly. “Big feast?” Endeavor said with a frown. “Wow, we got a chatterbox.” Hawks snorted. Still, no one was stopping the demon. It was better if they didn’t; it wasn’t all that different from letting a villain in police custody blabber away in an interrogation room. The more an overconfident idiot let loose, the more information they got for both investigational purposes and to bring up charges. And this demon seemed… Quite pleased with itself. It was still looking at the villains, eye lurching from League member to League member with a disturbingly audible squelch. “Oh, look… One of ya’s got a whole animal thing going on. Those always have weird flavors. Wonder if y’fry good…?” It giggled. None of the villains looked particularly impressed. Spinner only stared at it with an annoyed expression. That eye suddenly lurched in a different direction. The demon was then looking right at him; Aizawa held the stare. “We know that th’ boy lied.” The demon laughed again. Aizawa stilled in alarm; he could sense more than see both Hawks and Endeavor do the same. “Th’ boy we got from here, yeah?” The demon was still talking. “Heard they chopped ‘im up and compared the meat to the other one when they got bored of watchin’ ‘im. Heard it was a real big deal in the upper crust.” It let out a high-pitched cackle. “And what would you know about that, exactly?” The soft, bored-sounding tone came from his other self. Aizawa turned in surprise to see Shota staring at the demon with pure contempt. His other-universe self took slow, calm steps closer to the monster twitching on the floor. “Careful…!” Aizawa warned, but didn’t move to stop him. “What rank are you, exactly?” Shota asked with all the disappointment of a parent chastising their child. “You’re one of the lower ranked ones, aren’t you? You never get to eat anything above the lowest tier meat from the worst farms. What rumors would you ever get a chance to hear with even a grain of truth?” The demon had stopped laughing; it was, however, staring at Shota. That eye followed him until he stopped a solid few steps away. If the demon tried, it could probably hit him. Aizawa twitched at the sudden anxiety. “The people here can kill your kind very easily. I think you’ve figured that out by now.” Shota was smiling, but it was sharper than the kind he had worn before; the villains nearby looked alarmed. “And we all assumed that your people would eventually try to invade this world and take it over. But I think it would be more interesting if we invaded yours first, wouldn’t it?” What the hell was he doing? Aizawa looked to Tsukauchi but was surprised to find the detective looking impressed. The demon let out a small, very nervous laugh. “You can’t seriously…” “Can’t we?” Shota was still smiling at the demon. “The first people you came across here were a little unprepared, but then you were down in an instant. And there’s only a few humans here. Just imagine what an entire army from this world can do to your world.” There was no sound for a moment. The demon’s eye darted and skipped around. It tried to get up. Tsukauchi finally fired his taser. The demon let out a new shriek and collapsed again, huffing and gasping. No one else said anything for a few minutes as the officers moved to put the demon inside of the Maiden. Endeavor stared at Shota with visible shock. Hawks looked delightfully surprised. Spinner’s jaw had been hanging for several seconds and Compress still wore his mask. The silence was eventually broken by Twice. “I like that guy. Not creepy at all!” “Twice,” Spinner seemed to have snapped out of his shock. “Not now.” “At the risk of sounding the fool,” Compress sounded faint. “Could we have more clarification on that ‘farm’ portion?” Aizawa looked to Detective Tsukauchi; he got a half-shrugged gesture that he took as permission. Before he could form the words to explain, however, someone else beat him to it. “We’re livestock there.” Shota said with that same quiet, calm tone. He was looking at the villains without the least bit of alarm, only quiet curiosity. He was still smiling. “There’s not much else we’re good for, I suppose.” “And an escape from that universe is what started this, you said…?” Compress sounded nauseous. “A whole premium farm’s worth, just about, yes.” Shota was still absurdly calm. “No offence,” Hawks whispered to him low enough for no one else to hear. “But the other you is kind of awesome.” Aizawa rolled his eyes and spared a glance towards Endeavor; the current Number One Pro looked somewhat disturbed. He doubted the flame hero shared Hawk’s high opinion of his lookalike. “A premium farm?” Compress still had the lead on the villain’s side. “There’s different ranks, yes.” Shota’s smile twitched. “I was in charge of one of them. The children from my farm were of the highest quality.” “Children?” Came, still sounding nauseated, from the masked villain. “The oldest were always shipped out before they were sixteen. Typically, they left younger than that. Unless, of course, they were lucky enough to become a caretaker or sensei, as I was.” Shota then pulled down the top of his shirt enough to reveal the numbers on his neck. It was at that point that Aizawa realized that Shota had been doing this all on purpose; a show and a dance strictly to keep the villains in check. “Okay, I’m out.” Spinner wheezed. “This is a bit much now.” “What?” Twice sputtered; he whirled in a way that almost looked theatrical to stare at the lizard-like villain. “We can’t! They have Toga! Yeah, we can just walk away, I guess.” “She may no longer be alive.” Compress turned as well. “And this is a little bit beyond anything we’ve dealt with before.” Aizawa couldn’t help but twitch. “You were the ones that wanted a world without heroes, weren’t you? Well, now you’ve had a glimpse of that.” Then, all eyes – villain and hero alike – were on him. “Don’t give us that,” Spinner said with a glare. “Stain’s message was about equality, this is a hell of a lot different from what we want!” “You’ve tried to kill children.” Aizawa shrugged and tried to keep as calm a tone as possible. “Not too long ago, actually. I’m just curious why the concept of eating children is where you draw the line.” “We fought against heroes-in-training, those are very different things!” Spinner was yelling now. “Is it, though?” Hawks asked with a grin. “Don’t rise to their bait.” Compress let out a sigh, stopping Spinner from further arguing. “Didn’t that monster whatever say that they had one of those kids? A boy that lied?” Twice piped up. “You guys are gonna go after that kid, right, we can go with you! Nothing can possibly go wrong!” “What?” Spinner and Endeavor both said at the same time and with the same amount of horror. “We don’t even know if they would have taken Toga to the same place as they would have this boy.” Compress said softly; it did, though, sound like he was actually considering it. “We promised not to arrest you.” Tsukauchi folded his arms. “That was as far as our arrangement in these matters went.” “But we could be useful and help with the thing!” Twice said with a bit of an excited flail. “And if we die over there, that’s okay, you won’t even have to clean up the bodies! We won’t kill you, I swear!” “That – what?” Spinner sputtered. “Just, what? No!” Endeavor was rubbing his face, now. Hawks beamed as if he were watching a wonderful show. Still, now that he was thinking about it, Aizawa had to admit that there could be some benefit to this. He looked to Compress. “What happens when someone is placed inside of your orbs?” Mr. Compress looked at him; he paused before answering and the mask still covered up his face. “They enter a form of hibernation unless I will it otherwise. Immediate sleep.” “Can something like a radio signal penetrate the orb itself?” “Oh.” Shota perked up in understanding. “If his quirk can interfere with the implants, it would be helpful.” “Implants?” Spinner said with all the incredulity of someone who very much no longer wanted to deal with the situation. “Caretakers in charge of the livestock have a heart implant.” Shota said with that same calm smile. “It kills anyone that steps outside of range. I had to get… A heart replacement?” “Heart transplant.” Aizawa corrected. “Same difference, though.” “Regardless,” Shota smiled back at the villains. “If everything goes well, we… They…? I’m not sure if I’m going, actually, but there’s a facility with caretakers in training.” “I…” Compress actually sputtered. “…Yes. Actually, I believe that it would. The signal would, of course, go off once they were released, but otherwise… Yes.” Aizawa turned back to look at the detective. Tsukauchi looked like he both wanted to murder him but also resigned to the situation. “We’re still a few days away from time, but there will be absolutely no additional benefits to this situation. We won’t arrest you. That’s as far as this goes.” “Surely, we can get more than that.” Compress sounded like he had his wits back together. At least a little. “Some of our current charges could be le –” “Yes!” Twice said eagerly. “Yes, we’ll go with you to the thing! This is a nightmare!”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

He had only wanted to distract them. Aizawa didn’t consider himself stupid by any stretch of the imagination; in fact, considering he was both a homeroom teacher at the most prestigious hero academy in the world and managed to keep his nightly rounds as a Pro Hero going on a regular basis, he liked to think of himself as an incredibly competent adult. Not one of the best at either of his jobs, certainly not top-tier – not an All Might – but he thought that he was, at the least, pretty good at what he did. Which was why he was now wondering how the hell he had made this kind of a blunder. The orphans from that other world were planning on following the rescue team back to their home universe; anyone with a couple of working brain cells would have been able to figure that out. Aizawa knew that all of those kids were all watching – at least, the older ones – and waiting for their chance. They were actually quite terrible at the whole ‘spy hero’ thing; when this was all over, he’d have to give them pointers. So, the natural course of action was to distract them. To get them interested in something else, to help them see that they didn’t have to put themselves in unnecessary danger. They could stay here, in this universe, safe and sound. There was a future waiting for them here; they just had to realize that. The children had figured out on their own how to use only the most basic functions of the television. They could turn it on, had figured out how to look through the network guide and select a channel and had pretty recently figured out that some of the channels had games. They had not figured out how to use the on-demand option until Present Mic had showed it to them. The range of options alone could theoretically keep them occupied forever. On top of that, Aizawa had personally and quietly left a small stack of pamphlets, catalogues and website printouts – none of the staff trusted these children with a full-fledged computer connected to the internet just yet – about various schools available to them. Both the kinds with hero courses and the kinds without. The sad truth was, U.A. could not accept the ones too old as official students without heaps of controversy; there was no option other than to send them elsewhere. He had only wanted to distract them. He hadn’t thought they would take it quite so seriously. All of them on staff had all learned very quickly that their entire approach had been, at the very least, flawed; for one thing, these children had absolutely no concept of money. None. To be fair, Aizawa supposed that they wouldn’t, not coming from a world where money didn’t technically exist. Did they even know how currency worked? Had any of the adults in charge even told them how much a single yen was worth? If these kids had only learned about the concept of cash alone from books from several centuries ago, well… It was a good thing that the parental controls still worked, but the damage had already been done. Principal Nezu had almost injured himself laughing when he told the faculty at a staff meeting how much money had been rung up ordering random movies and games over the course of a single week. Thankfully, U.A. had quite a deep coffer. Still, things were still quite a bit odd the next time Aizawa decided to check in on them. The first thing that he noticed was the small mob in the sitting area by the kitchen; quite a number of children were there, school catalogues and uniform printouts laid out messily along tables that had been shoved together.Ochaco and Tsuyu looked like they were having a particularly intense discussion in one corner; there were some hero-centric papers around them, but also one from a veterinary trade school and… Construction? Huh; Aizawa hadn’t seen that coming. But, thankfully, there were also a few from more general course high schools; the normal kinds. That was comforting, at least.Then, he noticed that all of the papers were turned to show off the school uniforms. Dammit; that was exactly what he told them not to worry about.Denki and Hanta had hand-written spreadsheets in front of them and multiple bifolds from mechanic trade schools; it caused Aizawa to stop for a moment. Mechanics? They wanted to become mechanics? Really, he couldn’t fault them for taking their quirks outside the expected but he was fairly certain that neither of them had ever seen a functioning car. What had even started them thinking about that particular line of work? He wasn’t certain if he should be concerned or not.Koji had one of the smaller information booklets in his hands and Aizawa had to peer awkwardly to get a proper look at the title; he was surprised to find it about one of the medical schools in Tokyo. In front of the quiet boy was a small stack of different veterinary and medical information packets. Again, a little outside the box on that one, but it made an odd sort of sense. A peron who could talk to animals would make for an in-demand veterinarian.Someone had left behind open folds from law and business schools. A ‘Japanese Law for Dummies’ book sat next to them. Aizawa wished the best of luck to whoever had been looking at that.Although he had known from the start that it was unlikely that all of the orphans would want to head in to hero courses – statistically, they wouldn’t all be accepted anyway – Aizawa still couldn’t help but be impressed that they were considering different courses. They were trying to apply themselves to a world outside of their experience. Internally, he was already writing the letters of recommendation; without grades on file, they’d need them. In the lounge area, past the sitting room, the television was on and blaring. Another mob of the children were there; Mezo lounged on the floor against the largest couch facing the screen; on the couch in question sat a similarly posed Mina, Kyoka and Katsuki. Momo sat much more properly in another two-seater couch next to Shoto. Mei was by herself in a single-seater, but she was scribbling frantically in a notebook that lay open on her lap. Children of various other ages were either on the couches or on the floor, each watching with rapt attention. They were watching the last sports festival. Aizawa blinked once and wondered how they had even found it in the myriad of channels available to them. “How are they making this so intense?!” Mezo gasped. “These are just… Kids like us!” “I think it’s the cheering from the crowds.” Mina looked completely invested, body tense, as she stared at the screen; the cavalry match was going on. “And the announcements and everything, it’s just… Wild!” “Think we can watch it in person the next time they do one of these?” Kyoka said without ever looking away from the screen. “Think they’d let us?” “What even is that?!” Mezo gestured vaguely with a duplicated arm at the screen. “Team Midoriya is flying for some reason…” “Support items!” Mei said with a beaming grin. “Hatsume-san was telling me about those! I’ve been trying to catch up with all of the technological advancements, but you have to admit that the things they can do here…!” She let out an excited giggle. “One million points! One million points! One million points!” Some of the younger children started to chant. Mina quickly joined in. The only one who didn’t look particularly excited or engaged was Katsuki; the blonde teenager wasn’t even looking at the screen, head lolled sideways against one of his hands. Aizawa had to move to the side to get a proper look at the frown and faraway look at his face. He was the only one not falling for the distraction ploy. “Not your style of entertainment?” He asked quietly. “Huh?” Katsuki looked up sharply, snapping out of it. Still, he only let out a small snort before bothering to answer the question. “It’s all kind of pointless. Nobody really gets hurt and nothing’s really on the line.” “It’s a sports festival!” Mina looked over with a sputter. “People don’t die here like back home, Kacchan! They’ve got, like… Balloons and cotton candy and stuff in the crowds!” “And it’s all somehow incredibly intense.” Mezo said much more quietly; he had multiple eyes on the screen now. “I know logically that you’re right, but… It’s just so… Wow.” “First time watching sports?” Aizawa raised a brow. “Yes!” Mezo said with a slight groan. “I don’t even understand what I’m feeling right now…!” Aizawa found himself amused; reading about athletic events in books probably didn’t have quite the same appeal as seeing it. Not to mention that they didn’t have a lifetime of relatives rambling on about it or, frankly, generic background noise about baseball or football scores to numb them to it. This was new to them. Most of them already looked addicted. “As for the earlier question, I don’t see why you can’t be at the next sports festival.” He gave a shrug. “Assuming you all stay in schools in the country. I know I left information about some schools in other parts of the world, but it’s widely televised, so there’s nothing wrong with watching it from another screen, either.” They were seeds to be sown; if they wanted to stay here, then they weren’t going to risk it by leaving. They needed to plant themselves somewhere if they wanted to grow; the fields here were much better than at the farm where they came from. Mina let out an excited gasp. Mezo turned several eyes to him and looked similarly as intrigued. Momo and Shoto both glanced over quickly but were apparently enthralled by the actions of their other selves on screen. Kyoka’s brows both shot up and a small smile crossed her face. Only Katsuki didn’t respond. If anything, his eyes narrowed further and his grimace deepened. The cavalry battle only lasted fifteen minutes. The final moments of it had been fast-paced; points weren’t finalized until the very last second. Aizawa was almost deafened by the cheers of all the children when the top teams were revealed. He gave a glance behind him to find that everyone in the kitchen had stopped what they were doing and were now looking on with amused expressions. Still, the recording wasn’t live; the break for lunch that had happened back then had been removed for easier viewing; nothing was more boring than waiting, after all. No one bothered to pause it, laughing as they all were, but Aizawa knew what was coming. The bracket announcement aired the same way it had been when it was live; it had been incredibly dramatic, so Aizawa supposed that there was no reason to alter it. Midnight on stage, dramatic flair and voice booming, about to announce how the one-on-one bouts would go, and then… “I’m withdrawing!” Whoever had been in charge of editing would likely be proud to hear the surprised squeals and gasps that came from this dorm right now. “That’s…” Mina gasped and pointed. “The cameras weren’t on his team for most of the fight.” Mezo said with some confusion. Everyone else had gone silent as the recording of Ojiro continued to speak. “This is about my pride… Everyone else gave everything that they had and I don’t even remember what I did! I can’t…” “…Just like Mashirao.” Shoto murmured. “Always wanted to earn things, not just have it given.” “Even on his birthday, he wouldn’t take a gift without making a thank-you card.” Momo let out a soft sigh. “Even when he was a very young.” “We’ll get him back.” Mezo said with a small snarl. “We will.” “There’s two of them.” Katsuki said suddenly and with a sharp bark. Aizawa wasn’t the only one to turn in his direction. He wasn’t surprised by the outburst; he was, however, startled when the blonde turned on the couch to look back at him with one of the most intense gazes he had ever seen. “You’re going to do whatever it takes to get them both back, right? Not just yours, not just ours, but both of them.” Katsuki looked like he was barely holding himself from swearing. Aizawas glanced briefly towards the much younger children sitting nearby around the television. They were all looking at them now. “That is the plan, yes.” “Good.” Still, Katsuki did not look any more calm or any more settled. “You better.”-----------------------  Ojiro had really, really hoped that it had nothing to do with him. With the long minutes he had spent waiting in his tiny room, he had well and truly hoped that maybe, maybe, those demons were here for some other reason. A gas leak or a fire or paperwork or something; it’s not like he really knew how things worked around here. There could be a full-fledged bureaucracy involved for all he knew. There could be staff meetings. When the door to his room opened, he had hoped that they were all just being called down to dinner. Never mind that there was probably no food – their class was the one that had to cook it, after all – but the hope was there for just a split second. But Sensei Ken was at his open door. The square, cement face looked uncharacteristically nervous. Gray sweat was dripping from that blocky head. Nothing was said; this version of Cementoss opened his mouth once but then closed it again. Small black eyes were much wider than usual.There really was no point in fighting this. Ojiro tried to squash the pit of anxiety in his gut, pulled himself up from the floor, and followed. Was he marching off to his death? He had thought that he had been before; maybe this would turn out just like those other times.There was no sound except for their own feet for a little while. It wasn’t until they were in another hall, away from the little rooms that his classmates were sealed in, that Ken finally said something.“I don’t know why he’s here.” It came out in a rush; as if he had been holding it back for a while. “I don’t know why he wants to talk to you or what this is about, but just do whatever it is he says. Just do what he wants and this will be fine.” It sounded like he was trying to convince himself.This wasn’t a thing that happened often here, was it? Ojiro had already suspected as much before, but the sheer panic that came off of Sensei Ken only made it more obvious.Those demons didn’t come here like this and Sensei Ken was freaking out; they didn’t just show up out of the blue. Yet, here a few were – one of which looked important with that glittery mask and jewels – and they had asked specifically for him. All things considered, this was probably not a good thing.They went outside. Ojiro recognized the gym-like double doors from the ‘special exam’ from a couple of weeks back. To squash down the growing panic, he told himself it was likely because the demons couldn’t fit inside; the one with the mask looked like it would need to crawl to fit in to a human-sized building. Back home, there had to be special houses put together for people with immense growth quirks; the same probably applied here. That was why they were going outside. It wasn’t because they didn’t want to clean blood off the walls.It didn’t necessarily mean he was going to die.…He was probably going to die.Once outside, with the sun setting somewhere behind the building, movement from the corner of his eye caught Ojiro’s attention before anything else; with panic-fueled reflexes, he turned his head to look. His eyes widened to see the mirror image of his own face look absolutely terrified. Mashirao was physically shaking and looked a little green, tail dragging behind him.They were both out here? Why both of them?“Ah. There they are. Thank you.” A booming, echoing voice said from above.The demon with the ornate mask was looming above him; it stood there, probably three times as tall as he was, long claws steepled together and reflecting the last golden red embers of the sun. With that cloak-like outfit encrusted with gems, the demon gleamed and, in the back of his mind, Ojiro wondered if this demon was royalty of some kind. If they had royalty; if they even had a government.The two other demons present – shorter, stouter, and somehow both fatter and covered with muscles – were a distance back. Bodyguards, maybe. What demons needed bodyguards from, Ojiro couldn’t even hazard a guess.He couldn’t think. All thought had melted in to a puddle somewhere along the walk. There was no point in fighting, not with the implant on his heart; he just wouldn’t last very long with that kind of security measure. Besides, what could he even do here?This was the same panic that came about when Ken-Sensei had pushed him up a year, before he knew that that had been about. The same kind when he had seen a demon for the first time, but he hadn’t had the implant back then and had been ready to fight.Both times, he had survived it unscathed. Maybe this was like that. Maybe this wasn’t… A bad thing.There were three demons standing in front of him. Even if he had been free to fight them, he wouldn’t have been able to take them all down.Nearby, the other version of himself didn’t do anything, but his teeth were clattering.“Which one of you is from the other world?” The masked demon asked calmly; it had the voice of a young man, only a little rough.Ojiro could see Mashirao glance at him from the corner of his vision. He gulped. “I am.”“Ah.” The masked demon turned its head to look at him.Then, a claw came right for his face.There simply hadn’t been time to do anything; Ojiro was barely aware that the demon had moved at all until one long, horribly sharp claw was against the left side of his face, against his cheek. The dull backside of it was there, though, not the pointed tip; it probably would have gone clear through his skull if it had been. He barely stopped himself from stumbling or moving back; instead, he kept entirely still.The demon tilted his head; the press of the claw against his face was startingly gentle. With his face turned, Ojiro could see the horrified panic on his mirror image.“Oh, lovely.” The demon must have been looking at the numbers on his neck. “As if they had always been there. And not even a flinch. Tell me, Sensei Ken, is it? Have any of the other students become suspicious?”There was a moment of silence.Then, a sputtering cough came before Ken answered. “Suspicious of what?”For a few seconds, nothing happened. The claw against his face didn’t move, but one of the other fingers on the same far too large hand did twitch.Eventually, the demon took what sounded like a deeply annoyed breath. Then, the hand was pulled back and away; Ojiro gasped, allowing himself to finally breathe.“Grandfather didn’t tell you, then?” The demon was looking at Ken.The man made of cement was sweating immensely; a small puddle of gray was starting to harden on the grass. “Tell me… What?”“Oh, for goodness sake.” The demon grumbled. “I’m going to have to have several conversations about this, aren’t I? These boys are not twins.” It then paused, as if waiting for a response.“…Uh.” Was all that Ken answered with.“This one,” A claw pointed itself in his direction. “Is from a parallel universe.”“…Uh.” The exact same, thoroughly confused and nervous grunt.“Someone will explain it to you in better detail later. It doesn’t matter for now.” The demon sounded annoyed. Then, it looked back at him and Ojiro felt his entire body go still in alarm. “I am Vidame Tosk. I have several questions about your world. I expect your full cooperation. But first…” The demon then turned to look behind itself. “Where’s our assistant?”“Here, Vidame.” And that sounded like a normal human being; grass and leaves crunched as slow, calm footsteps were taken.Ojiro found himself blinking at the man that walked past the larger, rounder demons. He looked familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it; the man had to be somewhere in his late 20’s or possibly 30’s, but he looked so average and plain. Maybe this man just had one of those faces, but Ojiro could have sworn that he saw him somewhere before. It didn’t help that he wore a suit that was pure Victorian in style, like what the instructors here wore, with a button-up shirt that almost covered his numbers.“This is Naomasa.” The demon – was ‘vidame’ a title or a name? – gestured towards the man. “He has a very unusual quirk. He can tell when people lie. And we already know that you lied to us once.”Ojiro thought that the air might have just gotten colder; he didn’t know if it was the incoming evening or his own sweat that caused it. Maybe it was the growing pit of ice that was slowly replacing his stomach.So they knew that everything he had said before hadn’t been the truth? Why were they still keeping him alive, then? What was the point of this? A glance briefly to the side showed that his counterpart was still there, still pale and shaking, but if they had questions about back home, why was his other self still here?He didn’t know what to do.“Answer honestly and this will be painless.” The vidame demon was staring at him. “Does your world have a method of instant communication over long distances?”The question was not anything that he had expected. Ojiro blinked once; the bafflement helped to push down some of the panic. Did they mean ‘instant’ like a phone call or ‘instant’ like a text? Was there a difference? Was there even a reason to lie about it? “Yes?”“Hmm.” The vidame didn’t sound like it liked that response. “Does it require a tube connection to operate?”What were these questions? What was a ‘tube connection’? Did they mean wires? Ojiro couldn’t quite understand. He couldn’t see a reason how this could either hurt or help either universe. “No, we have… Back home, everything’s wireless.”“Wireless?” The vidame reeled back a little. “You have an instant form of communication that doesn’t require an external physical output…? Is your information storage similarly operated?”“What?” Ojiro sputtered before he could stop himself. What did that mean? “We have… The cloud?”The demon stopped. It looked down at Naomasa.The man looked amused. “He isn’t lying, but I think this is a linguistics issue. The same words mean different things.”“Hmm.” The vidame still didn’t sound happy, but he wasn’t making a move to kill anyone, so that was something. “What about the weaponry available on your world? What sorts are available?”“The weaponry –” Before he could fully ask the question, Ojiro felt something deep in his mind click.These questions had a point. This line of interrogation was about getting to know how advanced things were back home; to asses a threat. The questions about communication alone hadn’t clued him in – and he felt a little stupid now for that – but weapons?They were preparing to invade. Either that, or they already had. Or maybe it was somewhere in between; had they already sent scouting parties? Wars involved scouting parties, right? They were trying to get information…Before, he had lied because he had thought that it was the best course of action. He hadn’t known what to do, really, but to make the demons think that his home wasn’t worth invading if there were already demons there, had seemed like the smartest thing. To make them think that they would be in for a fight if they tried.Now, though, he could still do the same exact thing, couldn’t he? Make the demons think that everyone back home would be too strong; make them afraid to try to go there.He didn’t even have to lie. He just had to… Phrase things a certain way.Yeah. He could do that.Ojiro took a deep breath to steel himself and felt confidence starting to stir. “We don’t really need a lot of weapons because everyone’s a weapon. We have rapid-fire guns and robots and missiles and lasers, but… Everyone wants to be strong. There are whole companies competing against each other to make support items for people with the strongest quirks, to make everybody even more powerful. We even rank people and give them awards based on how powerful they are. It’s… It’s in everything.”The demon didn’t move or say anything for a few seconds. When it spoke again, it sounded wary. “Can… Anyone obtain these… Support augmentations?”Now, Ojiro was starting to feel positively gleeful. He didn’t even have to lie. “Pretty much. Even kids in school.” Which technically was not a lie; they just had to be part of a heroics program. Deep inside, he felt something dark. “You took me from a school where the most powerful students train, actually.”The demon tilted its head as if it was appraising him. It then slowly turned to look down at Naomasa.The man in question looked thoroughly spooked. “He’s not lying. If anything, he’s keeping things out by omission and negligence. It could be… It could be worse than what he’s telling us.”Maybe it was because he had been cooped up in anxiety and depression for a little too long, but Ojiro felt like he had them on the run here. He felt as if just a few more words would have them trembling and feeling the same stress he had been for over a month; it stirred the anger and helplessness that had been simmering together for a while.For a moment, he tried to hold himself back – he had told them enough, he answered their questions, he didn’t have to rub salt in this wound – but he had made a wound and this was the first time since he had been in this horrible universe that he could say or do anything about it. Fists clenched at his sides.“Back home, they built a giant glamorous island out of pretty much nothing where the smartest people build the most insane technology just because they can. Millions of people in one place, working to make the billions of everybody else stronger, faster and better. They can replace whole internal organs. Can you do that?”Silence fell.Then, Ojiro thought that maybe he had gone too far.“…Vidame.” Naomasa broke the silence uneasily. “He isn’t lying. Not even about the numbers.”“Dammit. No one is going to like this.” The demon hissed. It then paused, sharp teeth-lined mouth pulled so thin that its fangs looked like tusks. One hand was partially clenched mid-air.Slowly, it unclenched, and the demon’s expression – what little of it that was below the mask – shifted in a way that made it look like it might have come across an idea. Ojiro braced himself, anger and fear still swirling in his gut; a quick glance to the side showed Mashirao looking even more nauseous than before. “You said you came from… A school that trains the most powerful, yes?” The words came from the vidame demon were slow but pitched in a way that screamed of danger. “Sensei Ken, how is this one in combat?” There was a moment of deathly silence. The demon turned to stare over him, towards Ken. “Caretaker…” It was a warning. Ojiro took the risk; he turned to stare at this world’s Cementoss. Sensei Ken was pale; Ojiro hadn’t even known that cement quirks could turn pale. He was also still sweating and several small piles of hardening piles of sludge were around his feet. “He’s… Exceptional. We pushed him up a year.”“Really, now?” The demon suddenly smiled.Every instinct deep inside of Ojiro told him to run; it took everything he had not to follow it. Mashirao, not too far away, took a full step back.The demon wasn’t done talking. “How opposed would you be to have him removed?”Removed?! Ojiro looked up at the demon in shock; what did that mean, ‘removed’?! It took a moment to realize that he had shifted in to a combat stance, but he knew that he couldn’t act on it.If they killed him for fighting back, would they take out Mashirao with him?“Vidame…!” Naomasa sputtered, as if there was suddenly a scandal. “Vidame, there’s plenty of stock, we can’t just…!”“I’ll handle the paperwork and any subsequent fallout.” A single long-clawed hand physically waved it off. Then, the demon was looking at him again, smile sharp underneath the mask. “There’s a celebration not too long from now. The Tifari is a very, very important holiday, you see, and the farm your ‘brother’ is from usually supplies us with the meat for the grand feast. Now, the stock from that entire farm is gone, and you said yourself that you’re quite exceptional, even more so than he is.” A claw pointed at his other self.“No…” Mashirao whimpered.Shit. Shit, shit shit… He had messed up, hadn’t he? He had told them too much, had gotten carried away…Ojiro took a deep breath and tried very hard to stay calm. It didn’t work; but maybe he could still bargain? “I told you what you wanted to know.”“Yes. You did. More than necessary.” The demon actually laughed. “More than we needed. And I don’t think my superiors would object too much to ending our little game early.”Shit! Why couldn’t he have just kept his mouth shut?! He could have just answered the questions as they were asked, he didn’t have to brag…“Vidame!” Naomasa objected again.“Actually, I would be opposed.”The voice came quiet and trembling from the back; Ojiro turned again to stare at Sensei Ken and saw, from his peripheral vision, everyone else doing the same.“Pardon?” The masked demon responded with shocked pitch to its’ voice.The cement-made man was still sweating and the tremble came through in his voice. He was very obviously terrified, but who could really blame him for that? “He’s one of the best students here. He’s already made quite a mark on the rest of the trainees, they’ll…” A gulp. “It’ll destabilize things. To remove someone doing that well, who hasn’t hit the required demerits, something like that would ripple throughout all of them.”He didn’t have to do this. Ojiro stared with shock at the man that had, barely a few weeks ago, broken his nose without a second thought. Why was he risking himself? Why was he putting himself on the line like this in front of an obviously important demon for him?A long moment of silence passed; it became a staring match between the mask-wearing demon and the trembling gray man. Sensei Ken somehow held the stare despite the sweat pouring off of him and the dilating pupils that came from sheer terror.“Fine.” Came, bitingly, from the vidame. “Have it your way. I’ll do this through proper channels, then. Well… I suppose I’m finished here for now.”Ojiro thought that it might have been a signal; at least, once the last words were out, Sensei Ken was grabbing his shoulder and pulling him back. By the time he had his wits about him, he was being dragged back indoors; he didn’t bother to fight it.The metal double doors let out a horrible crashing noise when they closed; Ojiro took in deep, gasping breaths and leaned against a wall. He expected to be pushed along at any moment, shoved back in that tiny space they called his room, and was surprised when it didn’t happen.Instead, Sensei Ken was in much the same state he was; against a wall, one hand on his chest, and taking quick but deep panic-filled breath between quickly rushed sentences. “I’ve never done that before. I’ve never done that before. That was stupid. Oh my god, that was stupid.”Ojiro wasn’t sure what ‘that’ was; standing up to a demon? Saving someone? Both?A quick look around told him that Mashirao wasn’t there with him; but then, he hadn’t been in the hall before, so he must have gone back the same way he came in from. He hoped he was okay.“Another universe, huh?” Sensei Ken stared at him.Ojiro rubbed his face. “The… The ‘Grandfather’ guy, he told us not to tell anyone. He said we’d be killed if we did.”A gray cement head gave a nod. “You were smart to listen.” Another deep breath was taken; he did not look much calmer. “Listen, I don’t know what the vidame meant by ‘going through proper channels’, but he might be back. I don’t know what’s going to happen if he does. Could be tomorrow, for all I know.”“Why did you…?” Suddenly, he felt incredibly exhausted; Ojiro draped his tail over his shoulder before he would be tempted to lean on it. An aching tail never felt good after that. “You didn’t have to…”“Yeah.” Ken said with a slightly hysterical laugh. “Yeah, but I did anyway. Come on, let’s get you back to your room before something else insane happens.” ---------------------- The Pro Heroes were just about ready and that meant that they had to be, too.“Think we fooled ‘em?” Hanta asked with his usual beaming grin, teeth practically reflecting the moonlight.“Didn’t think we had to do much to fool them.” Kyoka smirked. “Put some of the stuff they gave us around, make them think we’ve been all… Dutiful, or something…”“You can still back out.” Katsuki said with a sigh. “If any of you change your mind, now’s the fucking time.”The looks he got back from his own hand-picked party told Katsuki that none of them were going to take that offer. Ochaco looked ready to laugh; Mei stared at him as if he had lost his mind.Five of them in total; Katsuki could have claimed to have spent days agonizing over which of his family to ask to come on this practical suicide mission, but the truth was that it didn’t take much thought at all. They needed quirks that could do the job but wouldn’t be so powerful that a stray demon wouldn’t suddenly become a god if they managed to eat one of them.It had ruled out most of them; Sensei Shota’s farm apparently tailored to powerful quirks. Anyone younger than fifteen was out strictly because he refused to risk anyone that had a better shot at a good future here; half of them were already planning to try out for that stupid entrance exam. They couldn’t mess that up, not when there were older and stronger siblings to do the job.He had, though, been tempted to ask Momo to come – her creation quirk could do a hell of a lot – but, like Shoto, it would be a mess if she got caught. Mezo had been tempting, but he was still too emotionally compromised, still in pain from losing two of his closest friends in such a short amount of time, no matter how much the six-armed teen tried to hide it. Tooru had also been a top choice, but she was a bit immature and had a habit of making stupid decisions just trying to help. Tsuyu had nearly been a sixth, but it would have been too many, and she was making friends in this universe besides.So here was the final lot of them: Hanta was one of their fastest runners with a tape quirk that probably wouldn’t do a demon much good. Ochaco still had her nausea problem, but she had been studying recordings of Uraraka and Katsuki had always thought she could be brave if she just pushed herself. Kyoka had gained some sort of strength and resolve ever since she had stabbed that demon and had spent the better part of the past month working on her physical strength. Mei’s zoom quirk could come in handy in a pinch, but her mind was the real jewel, Katsuki knew he would have been stupid not to bring her along. Besides, she was the only one who knew how to use any of the equipment.It wasn’t a perfect group, but a five-man-band like all of those storybooks wasn’t a wholly terrible idea. It felt right.“You’re not thinking of going by yourselves, are you?” Someone said from nearby.It took a moment to find them; they all turned around in shock, but it was Hanta who let out a surprised yelp.Then, they all spotted the sneakers on the ground not attached to anything and the floating gloves above them.“…Why are you naked?!” Katsuki sputtered.“What…” Hagakure sputtered – and that was not Tooru, she’d be wearing more than that, and there were no floating numbers besides – as those gloves rested themselves on invisible hips. “You can’t even see me, why does it matter?!”“Because you have nothing to protect your body from anything!” Katsuki yelled. “And who said you’re coming with us?!”“Aren’t you cold?” Ochaco stared.“I’m coming because I decided that I am.” Hagakure didn’t move. “And my winter outfit is pretty much the same thing, I’m used to it.”“That sounds miserable.” Hanta said with a frown.“Listen…” Katsuki groaned; he rubbed his face. “You have parents and a life here. You have a hell of a lot of connections going on, you can’t just –”“You have connections, too, now, you know.” The response from the invisible girl came calm and poised. Like a spoiled brat, as far as Katsuki was concerned. “You’re risking just as much as I am.”“I say we let her.” Mei shrugged. “She’s just going to try to follow us anyway and I can’t promise that my portal baby’s going to close up quick enough to stop her.”“You know this whole trip could take days.” Katsuki glared in the general direction of the floating gloves. “We don’t know how far away the farm was from wherever the hell our people are at. We could be walking for a while.”“And you don’t know this universe that good, I bet.” Hagakure sounded pleased; her sneakers rocked back and forth. “Your portal works both ways, right? If you suddenly need to come back for some reason, I figure you won’t know where you’re gonna end up here. I mean, you could just go right in to a wall or someone’s bathroom or –”“I have a map.” Mei raised a brow. “Two of them, actually. Digital and physical. We’ll know where we are.”A beat of silence passed.“I’m coming with you!” Hagakure flailed, gloves sprawling in the air. “You can’t stop me!”“If she takes off the rest of her clothing, we wouldn’t even see her if she snuck behind us.” Ochaco looked like she didn’t like it, either, though.“She’s got more experience than we do…?” Hanta smiled nervously.“I think she has one of those ‘ultimate moves’, too.” Kyoka shrugged, but looked unsure. “Could be handy.”“Ugh… Stupid, fucked up… Fine.” Katsuki shook his head. “You’re an idiot, but fine.” “I knew you’d see it my way!” Hagakure giggled.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Technically, Aizawa did not have to go on this mission. In fact, over the course of putting this strange and – under any other circumstances – unorthodox team together, it had been suggested from several sources that he should back out. As part of the close-knit faculty of U.A., the logic went, his students would look up to him and may even need his presence in these trying times; if he wanted to, he could easily keep himself here and stay comfortably safe in their home universe. Well, safe-ish, really, if everyone was being honest with themselves. But over the course of the years acting as a Pro Hero, Aizawa liked to think that his instincts had become pretty well honed. If something didn’t feel right, there was a reason for it; if something raised his hackles and told him to move a certain way, it was usually right on the mark. And everything about this rescue op felt like something that he absolutely needed to be part of. He didn’t think he could look his own students in the face if he stayed behind, anyway. From there, there was quite a bit of shuffling by both local and governmental agencies to figure out what would be the best group to send in to such a highly sensitive expedition; they needed to not only keep this quiet and secure, far from any kind of public knowledge, but as well needed to send Pro Heroes that could get the job done. It was a difficult position. Endeavor, despite wanting to be part of this, had to be struck out; for the current Number One Pro to go quiet and completely vanish from the public eye for a potentially long period of time wouldn’t be healthy for the public morale – or, at least, that was the position of the local police. The last time he had spoken with Endeavor on video call, the flame-covered Pro had been visibly angry at the ruling. Although he was no fan of Endeavor’s work nor behavior, Aizawa could commiserate with the frustration. On the opposite spectrum, all Hawks had to do was post on his various social media accounts that he would be going to be doing a ‘hush-hush quiet secret op, gonna be gone for a bit’ and follow it up with a cheeky selfie and a string of heart emojis. Despite being the Number Two Pro, this was completely in character for him. His fanbase apparently ate it up and responded with a slew of cheers and fanart. Somehow, someway, he managed to not only get away with this, but the police had given their blessing. Only half of the Wild Wild Pussycats came in. As far as anyone could tell, this had been an internal decision; with Ragdoll still on the disabled list – probably permanently, though no one would say it out loud –, Tiger had decided to stick behind in case anything went sour. Mandalay and Pixie Bob were in. Vlad King had wanted to join them, but two U.A. faculty members going off in to another universe this close to finals was not a particularly wise decision no matter which direction it was looked at. Reluctantly, he stuck behind. Aizawa didn’t envy the position; if anything, Vlad would have to pick up the slack of his own absence and likely mentor both of the primary hero courses for a while. From there, it made sense to add only one or two more to the roster; this was, after all, a rescue op involving what they could only assume was heavily guarded enemy territory with absolutely no potential for backup. They needed to keep things tight; it was strictly a matter of mechanics. Edgeshot made the most sense; his quirk would, at the very least, make it very difficult to get eaten by those so-called demons. On top of that, he was known for taking extended undercover missions; it worked out. Then, there was his alternate self. The Shota from that other world. Shota had offered to act as a guide, surprising everyone considering what he had been through; although he had been kept in ignorance for much of his life, he still knew more about that other world than any of them did. It didn’t matter how much information came forthcoming, people naturally tended to forget details and minutia that could be the difference, especially in this situation, between life and death; for the most part, there had been no choice but to take him up on the offer. Then, with the villains that the police had reluctantly allowed to go with them, they were good to go. Even if they were a group coated in venom. The glares and harsh looks that arose from both sides went up as soon as the three villains met them in a shrine three and a half kilometers from U.A. grounds. Police and other Pro Heroes barely kept curious civilians at bay a distance off – far enough away, Shota had said, that they should be outside the walls and nowhere near the chasm that separated the farms from the forest. Like the last time, only three of the villains had shown up; still no sign of Dabi or Shigaraki. Aizawa could only hazard a guess to the kind of conversations the villains were having about all of this. Both Mandalay and Pixie Bob were almost hissing like their namesakes at the villains as soon as they showed up. Considering that these specific villains were literally responsible for the horribly injury that came to one of their own, he was not the least bit surprised; only Spinner sent a glare back, though. Twice was all but vibrating as he moved and was clearly eager to jump right in whatever fray that waited for them. Compress’s body language was off-kilter; with the mask covering his face, he slinked along and appeared sheepish. As if he was embarrassed to be there. Strange. Aizawa raised a brow at them but decided not to say anything. It wasn’t as if he didn’t feel the same animosity as the Wild Wild Pussycats; in fact, just seeing the villains nearly made his hair stand on end and brought up painful memories of the forest training incident. They had, after all, attacked his students and had held Bakugo captive for three days. Some of those children had almost died; two of them had been in a coma. These weren’t even almost good people, no matter how much they wanted to help in this specific situation. The issue was, they needed Compress’s quirk. That’s all that it boiled down to. They had what was essentially portable supermarket scanners that would supposedly disable the implants, but if anything went wrong with them – if they didn’t work on the right frequency, if they had some kind of error, if the battery ran out – and they found those boys, both Ojiro and his counterpart, only to be stuck there or, worse still, forced to leave them behind because they had been too stubborn and too proud to use a villain’s quirk… It hurt just to think about it. A tragedy of that scale, to fail at such a point… Well, that was what contingency plans were for. That’s why he insisted that these villains be allowed to come with them. They were a means to an end, if a distasteful one, and nothing more. “The gang’s all here!” Hawks said with a beaming grin, as if they were all great friends meeting up after work. The Wild Wild Pussycats both glared at him for it. “There will likely be patrols around the farm grounds.” Shota cut to the chase before anyone else could say something stupid; internally, Aizawa felt something akin to pride. Though, his lookalike had that disturbing, too-pleasant smile on his face again. “We should end up in the surrounding forests. I’ve never seen the patrols, myself, but I’ve been told that they exist.” “So it could either have been a scare tactic to discourage escapees, or they could have just as easily understated it to keep exact numbers from being known.” Edgeshot let out a displeased breath. “I assume I’m going in first since I can, y’know, fly.” Hawks smirked. Just in case they didn’t clear the canyon; Shota couldn’t say exactly how large it was. The only way he had ever seen it was from on top of a wall and the human eye had a way of misjudging things like that. The portal device that they had made had been based on Mei’s design, although much more modern; ancient vacuum capacitors had apparently done the original job, but the remote-like device in his hands now didn’t have the bulbous antenna made of a coat hanger or the stiff buttons carved from eraser tips. Aizawa still felt incredulous that she had built such a thing at all, let alone with the tools that she had on hand. Whatever life she wanted to pursue here, he would gladly write the recommendation letter for it. Speaking of which; Aizawa took a last glance around. None of the children had shown up. Neither the orphans nor his own students – or any of the students from U.A., in fact – had stalked them. Not as far as he could tell. So, either someone was doing a marvelous job of masking themselves, they were keeping at an incredible distance, or they had… Actually listened to him and stayed back. Oh, he really hoped it was the last one. “Hey, Eraser!” Hawks grinned at him. “We good?!” Aizawa stared at the Number Two Pro deadpan. Then, he pressed a button. The portal, after who knows how many tweaks and test runs performed by the support department, was no longer the swirling, nauseous mess that it had been when the orphans first came in an eon ago. Now, it was almost crystal clear; it rippled and fluctuated, like a lake after having a pebble thrown in to it, but it at least gave some kind of view of the other side. There was green and browns; forest and trees made dark by the early evening. The sun wasn’t quite yet down; it made sense to start their travels at night, but it didn’t make sense to jump in to foreign territory above a possible cliff in the pitch darkness. And then Hawks gleefully jumped through the portal. There was no deep breath taken or even a hint of hesitation. Aizawa thought he might have heard the winged hero let out a laugh. “Sometimes, I question how he’s survived so long in this line of work with instincts like that.” Edgeshot said with some humor. “He outranks us all on the polls, so he’s doing something right.” Pixie Bob sighed. “Why didn’t he just stick his head through?” Spinner asked with the same bewilderment. No one answered the villain. Not beyond a few fresh glares. Hawks didn’t jump back though the portal. Instead, one hand shot out of it, gave a solid thumbs-up, and then vanished again. The rest of them shared disturbed glances, hero and villain alike. Even Shota looked uneasy. Then, slowly, the rest of them walked through. ----------------------  “They went in.” Mei said with an excited grin. “My baby worked flawlessly! Not a hiccup, not an error…!” “Were you worried that it might have an error?” Kyoka asked warily. “Well, statistically, there’s always at least a little chance that anything could go wrong.” Mei shrugged. “I was confident that my baby would do the job, though! Mostly, I was worried about the zero point eight nine percent chance of a variance wobble in the stream calibration.” Kyoka and Ochaco shared an identical look that told the world that they weren’t sure if the pink-haired girl was making up words or not. “Okay, that’s all good.” Katsuki rolled his eyes. “But let’s get our asses moving.” “We don’t exactly have to rush,” Hanta said as he stretched his arms. “We’re waiting, what, five minutes before following?” “That’s the plan.” Was the half-snorted reply from Katsuki; they had discussed this numerous times. He took three steps away before he noticed that a floating set of clothes hadn’t moved. Hagakure’s gloves were turned; she might have been glancing behind her. “No one else came…” “Didn’t you say that they all didn’t want to?” Ochaco asked softly. “I mean, the reasons were pretty good reasons…” “I just…” A sigh came from the invisible girl. “…I don’t know what I expected.” Then, they were moving. With Mei’s vision quirk, it had been easy to keep far enough away that the Pro Heroes wouldn’t spot them. That had actually been the easiest part of the plan; sneaking out of U.A. and then figuring out how to navigate this strange world outside of the walls had been the tricky part. In hindsight, Katsuki was glad that Hagakure had decided to force herself upon their group; if it hadn’t been for her, they probably wouldn’t have made it out of the gates. They wouldn’t have known to cover themselves in heavy hoodies and flu masks along the way. They wouldn’t have known how to use the subway system. Hell, they might have been too distracted by those flashing lights and the gleaming metal that seemed to be everywhere, not to mention the crowds – so, so many people – to have even made it to this park. Hagakure had somehow kept them in line and away from most of the distractions. All the while, she had been in either complete or partial invisible nudity; it was incredible in a weird, knowing-she-was-constantly-naked kind of way. Hanta had ended up carrying her gloves and sneakers in the subways and he had looked a little freaked out, so at least he wasn’t the only one. They had managed to get in to the park before the police had closed everything off. They had managed, so far, to evade people in this sprawling, beautiful shrine and the gardens around it. When they came back to this universe, Katsuki made a mental note to visit in the daytime. Well, that, and to see the rest of this crazy city. Were there more cities like this? Covered in gleaming metal and countless spiraling glass towers and god only knows what else? Now that he thought about it, he never had asked just how big the city they were in even was. Somehow, it hadn’t mattered before. A sudden beeping noise shook him out of his thoughts; the timer on Hagakure’s cellphone went off. None of them dared to ask where she kept the thing. “Well, that’s time.” Hagakure did some odd finger twisting with her gloved hands and then the phone was just gone. “Let’s go!” Mei let out an eager giggle; her own remote, she had claimed, was exactly the same as the one made for the Pro Heroes. The portal that it made swirled like a bucket full of rainwater. “If any of you want to back out, now’s your last chance.” Katsuki glanced around at the five teenagers around him; four siblings and one friend. “The portal things apparently need to recharge back up, so once we’re in, we can’t come back for days. You shitheads wanna back out of this, this is it.” None of them took the offer. Katsuki grinned; he expected nothing less. He picked most of them, after all, for this crazy mission. They walked through the portal one-by-one; Katsuki kept the lead. The ground on the other side was soft and the air was cold but humid. In the universe that they had just stepped out of, it had rained two days before and he wondered if the weather mirrored itself. Ochaco and Kyoka came through together. Then Hanta, who looked nervous despite his repeated statements that he was absolutely and totally up for this. Then, Hagakure, and Mei in the rear. Probably to make sure that her portal stayed open until they were all in. The pink-haired girl pressed a couple of buttons on the device. The swirling, watery mass closed. A moment later, she had the tracking device, fitted in the shell of a round egg-like thing with a wide, colorful screen. Mei turned around in place, moonlight bouncing off of her pink curls. “Hmm. Well, it’s picking up Mashirao’s signal, but it’s… Far.” “How far is far?” Katsuki frowned. “Uh…” Mei shifted in place nervously. “…According to this, uh… Four hundred and seventy-ish kilometers.” They all stared at her, quiet. “That’s, what, four days of walking? Five?” Hanta winced. “I mean, it could’ve been worse, but the hero guys are probably gonna get it done quicker.” “We’re not exactly out of shape.” Ochaco raised a brow. “We’ve all been working out.” “We shouldn’t even be stopping right now, first off.” Katsuki frowned. “Secondly, we need to keep quiet in case of demons lurking around. Third off –” Then, a loud ding went through the air. Slowly, everyone turned to stare at Hagakure. The floating gloves and grounded sneakers were suddenly trembling a little. The cellphone was out again, reappearing from whatever mysterious pocket space that she had, held in shaking hands. She was supposedly, probably, most likely looking at the screen. It came to life with a soft glow. “Was that… The phone?” Kyoka sputtered. “How?” Ochaco sputtered. “Didn’t we all agree that the best technology they have here is for the tracking devices?” Hagakure wasn’t saying anything. Colors were flashing off of the phone. “What is it?” Katsuki moved closer. “Invisible brains, what is it?” “I think,” Hagakure said with a whimper. “That… That we need to go to the Pro Heroes right now.” “What?” Katsuki blinked. “I think we need to go to the Pro Heroes right now, because texting is still apparently working in this universe and I don’t know how!” “What do you mean ‘texting’?” Hanta blinked. “Hold on…!” Mei reached out and somehow managed to grab Hagakure’s arm on the first try. “Are you telling me that you’re in digital communication with your friend right now?” “I… I think so?” Hagakure sniffled. “I got a text that he sent last week, but just now…” “Do you have the same exact type of phone as he does?” Mei said with an intense stare aimed at the general direction of Hagakure’s face. “Mei?” Katsuki frowned; still, he knew better than to drill the pinkette for answers when she had that look on her face. “The same phone?” Hagakure repeated the question with clear confusion. “They’re… Yeah, he said he liked the phone so I told his parents what to get him for his birthday…” “Okay. Good.” Instant relief crossed Mei’s face; she let go of Hagakure’s arm. “Good, end-to-end encryption only works on the same models. Even if the demons picked it up, they’d have to unscramble it.” The baffled silence that followed showed that none of them knew what she was talking about. Mei glanced around at them, hands resting on her hips. “Okay, the rest of you, I understand if you’re still getting caught up on the amazing technological advancements, but you, Hagakure?!” “…It’s a phone…?” The invisible girl answered meekly. “I… I got a text… Ojiro sent it last week, that means he has his phone with him!” “And you’re right. Shit!” Katsuki snarled. “We need to get this to the heroes, they could coordinate shit with the tailed idiots!” He didn’t give them any commands to follow; he simply looked to Mei, who still had the tracking device in her hands. Then, they were running. ----------------- Oh, Aizawa knew that something like this was going to happen. He just knew it; the problem was that he had just counted the chickens before they had hatched. They had been on the ground for, at best, ten minutes. Not even that. Shota had gotten the tracking device out, they had begun to follow it and almost no conversation had been made. The most that anyone had discussed – especially with the glares going around despite the darkness – was the only limitation with the portal machine. It wouldn’t work again for three days, but since they had ended up needing at least four days of travel, it had ended up being a moot point. But then the gods of both universes had apparently decided that their lives just weren’t interesting enough. The sounds of branches crunching underfoot and of more than one body running through a dense forest had been so easy to pick up that it was, at first, terribly alarming. At the very least, it forced everyone to stop in order to face whatever was coming for them. “If we’ve already been spotted, I swear…” Edgeshot had said in a deeply annoyed whisper. They had all turned at the incoming noises. They had all braced themselves; from the corners of his vision, Aizawa had seen both Mandalay and Pixie Bob take on fighting stances and, to the other side, Spinner pull out a sword made of smaller swords. It didn’t take long for the bodies to crash through the shrubbery. And it was those stupid children. “Aizawa-sensei!” A floating glove waved at him; Hagakure sounded panicked. “Oh, shit, sensei.” Katsuki said a little quieter, staring at Shota. There were six of them. Six. He had somehow missed out on six entire teenagers following them. Hagakure, he could forgive himself for not spotting, but the rest? They had all somehow… Wait. Pink curls. Mei had the same quirk as Hatsume, the zoom vision. Ah. That’s how they had done it. Aizawa relaxed from the tension of possible combat but rubbed his face at the incoming stress headache. “What are you children doing here?” “We wanted to help with –” Hagakure started to say, but then let out an alarmed squeak. “Villains!?” “Hey.” Twice responded lamely. Then, he perked up. “Oh! Hey! Blonde kid! I remember you! You’re not familiar at all!” “Yeah, I bet you do.” Mandalay snarled. “That’s not Bakugo.” Compress said with a curious tone. “The children that escaped from a farm…?” “We do not have time for this!” Katsuki gave the villains a baffled stare – numbers on his neck visible despite the dusk – but then turned to look right at him. Words then poured out in a tumbled mess. “The tailed idiot, Mashirao, your Mashirao, the kid from your universe, he has his phone with him and it’s… Doing things!” “What?” Aizawa blinked. “His phone?” “Aizawa-sensei…!” Hagakure squeaked again. A phone materialized in her hands; gloved fingers unlocked it and gave it to him. A basic texting app was open. It claimed to have an open connection. The last message came a week ago, words next to a tiny pixelated picture of a cartoon monkey in a karate uniform. I’ll try my best. Short. Cryptic. A little on the incomprehensible side and could be referring to anything. But the very fact that this note existed, that somehow this piece of technology worked in this universe when it absolutely shouldn’t have, not unless the demons had the exact same equipment… “He has his phone with him? And you got a text from him?” Mandalay said incredulously. “How is that possible?”Hawks let out a snort of laughter. “Are you serious, what, do they have cell towers here?” “Even if they do, I was under the impression that everything is taken away from incoming ‘students’.” Edgeshot sounded suspicious. “How would he even have access to his phone?” “That quickly…?” Shota said with quiet amazement. All eyes turned to the only adult from this world. The usual smile on Shota’s face was now a soft frown, brows furrowed. He looked troubled. After a moment, their eyes met. “Second years and above are allowed to have a personal item from the luggage they packed before leaving the farm. I didn’t pack anything at all, but I was under the impression that the items were chosen by the adults in charge. I remember hearing the others training there talking about having dolls and small toys from their childhood…” “What does that mean, second years and above? Doesn’t that imply he’s been moved to another location?” Aizawa frowned at his counterpart. “No, the older students trained in the same building.” Shota still looked bewildered. “He would just be in a different part of it. Though… To be pushed up a year that quickly… He could beat my record.” “We can talk to him!” Hagakure squealed. “I wouldn’t.” Pixie Bob shook her head. “We never quantified the level of technology, here.” Edgeshot’s brows were furrowed above his mask. He looked to Shota. “Can they unscramble end-to-end encryption, do you think?” “See, he gets it!” Mei sputtered and stared at the other teenagers. “I’m sorry, I don’t even know what those words mean.” Shota’s smile was back on, but the edges of it twitched. “Assuming that they can, it may still be prudent to send at least one message.” Compress’s soft tone was grating. “To give the boy hope, if nothing else.” “Yeah, because that’s something you’re concerned about.” Pixie Bob glared at him. Compress visibly stiffened. “I was simply making a suggestion. There’s no need for hostility.” “‘No need for hostility’?!” Mandalay turned so quickly that her hair briefly flew in the air. “Guys…!” Hawks’s eyes darted back and forth between the heroes and villains. “Enough.” Aizawa barked, but didn’t raise his voice. There was no need to get in to volume; simply having an authoritarian tone did the job. He looked to Hagakure. “One message. One. Tell him that we’re on the way. Leave the details of how we got here, where we are and how far away we are out of the message, but anything else you want to tell him is up to you.” He took a breath. “And after that, you’re going home.” “What?!” Katsuki sputtered. “Like hell we are!” “Actually, uhm…” Mei said meekly. “The portals need a recharge time.” “It will be another three days before it works again.” Edgeshot said just as quietly. “I’d probably be easier just to let them come with.” Hawks sounded like he didn’t like it, either. “Either that, or lay camp here for three days and waste time.” Oh, these stupid kids. Aizawa glared daggers at the lot of them. Didn’t they realize the danger that they were in just being here? Didn’t any of them care that they could have been perfectly fine back home? Hagakure, at the least, she knew that she could be – would be, even – expelled as a result of this, this close to final exams…! The only sound in the air was the soft clicking noise coming from Hagakure’s phone; a digital recreation of actual button presses. Soft blue light from the screen didn’t quite bounce off her face, but it did make a small kaleidoscope of a rainbow with the tears rolling down her face as she typed. Shit. “Just so you are all aware.” Aizawa took in a deep breath as he stared at the five unoccupied children in front of him. Kids! Couldn’t they ever make rational decisions?! “If anything happens before we get there, and even when we do get to the target, we might not be able to protect you.” “Fine by us.” Katsuki gave a firm nod. “Didn’t expect you to.” The four others looked a mix of nervous but resolute. Ochaco and Kyoka had identical expressions on their faces, the latter with her hands on her hips. Mei was actually grinning a little but her brows were still furrowed. Hanta had a nervous smile on his face and his eyes kept on darting around as if he wasn’t sure where or who to look to. “Aizawa-sensei…” Hagakure sniffled. “Is this good?” She held out her phone. Aizawa gave the unsent paragraph of a text message a quick read-through. As he did, something inside of him both hardened and wobbled all at once. He closed his eyes for a moment. These stupid children… “Yes. Yes, it is. Send it.” -------------- What happened with that demon couldn’t happen again. What few pieces of a plan that existed would fall apart if it did; everything relied on getting out of this place with his phone on hand. It was all that he had left. Yet, when he had been called out of his room, if it had gone another way, if Ken-sensei hadn’t stopped it when he did… Ojiro knew that he couldn’t allow that to happen again. He felt stupid, now, for leaving his phone in his room in the first place. At the time, he had been in such a panic that he simply hadn’t known what to do; it wasn’t as if these excuses for uniforms came with pockets. The plan needed a new part to it. A way that he could keep his phone on him at all times without anyone becoming suspicious. He had an idea by the following morning. After more than a month of being stuck in this place, he had been literally forced to pick up a few new skills. The simple act of pulling a needle and thread through fabric had been completely unknown to him before he came here, but now he had the fundamental basics down. At least, he thought he did. He wasn’t as bad as some of the other people stuck here, at any rate. At first, he had been tempted to steal some of the scraps at the end of class. After the demon’s surprise visit, everyone had been distracted and worried. Even the instructors were nervous and jittery and Ojiro quickly noticed that there weren’t as many demerits given as usual. It probably would have been easy enough to swipe the leftovers, but the lack of pockets or anywhere to put it had been an issue. So, he decided to be brave. Really, what could they do to him at this point? A demon had already promised to come back just for him. It was only a matter of time. There were no clocks on the walls to warn when class was coming to an end; instead, a gentle, musical chime went off over a loudspeaker whenever things were five minutes away from wrapping up. The moment was taken. Ojiro raised his hand for the first time since he had been taken from U.A. This world’s version of Mandalay stared at him as if he had lost his mind. So did quite a number of the other students. Still, after boggling at him, eyes comically wide, she sputtered before finally forming words. “56455-B?” Numbers instead of a name. It wasn’t like the teachers around here, actually, to do that. Maybe they had been spooked in to following the rules more closely. Honestly, he didn’t blame them, even if being referred to by what was essentially an item stock number stung. “Sensei Shino, would I be allowed to take some leftover fabric, a needle and thread to practice with?” She was still staring at him in absolute shock. In the seat next to him, Yo was shaking his head and mouthing, are you nuts!? Shino’s mouth opened and closed for a few seconds. Then, she shook her head rapidly before whatever had broken in her brain settled down. “You… You were pushed up a year. You would be behind.” She paused. “I… I’ll allow this.” Honestly, he had half expected that to fail. Ojiro blinked in surprise. “Thank you, Sensei.” “I’ll have it delivered to your room.” Still, Sensei Shino was stunned. After class ended, at their next meal time, Yo had actually cackled. “Fortune favors the bold!” Ojiro didn’t feel particularly fortunate nor particularly bold. But he did get what he was after, so that was something.The little supply kit that had been left for him came with more than enough; scrap pieces of felt and cotton, two spools of thread, a small dull-tipped scissor, a couple of buttons and a small stack of sewing needles. With all the quirks in this place, he supposed a few small sharp objects didn’t pose much of a threat. It took nearly two hours – losing out on sleep that he knew he needed just to function during the day – to get it done. The buttons came in surprising use – he hadn't thought to ask for them before – but the end design wounded up needing it. It was a basic pouch. A small flap held it shut. It wasn’t exactly pretty, but it was just large enough to hold his phone inside. Extra fabric was sewn together that the pouch stuck on to, a long hoop that he could wind around the base of his tail. The last two buttons held that in to a snug fit. His phone wouldn’t be able to charge in there, hidden away from all light, but he could wear it at all times. If he put it on before his uniform, no one would be able to see it. Granted, it made a small budge at the top of his tail, but he doubted – hoped – that anyone looked at his rear that closely. He had, though, neglected to change the settings. Later, the excuse he made to himself was that he didn’t think that he needed to. After all, as far as he knew, the phone wasn’t actually connected to anything. Which was why, when his phone vibrated during a sparring match the following afternoon, he had been so shocked that he hadn’t been able to dodge a kick aimed at his face. It left a bruise. Still, he couldn’t check to see why his phone had gone off. By some miracle, it hadn’t made a noise. He remembered, dimly, putting it in to silent mode an era ago, back at that study session before the fight, back at U.A. He had been forced to wait. Technically, they were allowed to use the restrooms whenever they wanted, but he thought he’d need more time. At least, long enough that it wouldn’t be suspicious. Anything could have connected to his phone, he just didn’t know… Dinner eventually rolled around. He rushed for the restroom as soon as he was able. They had walls between the toilets here, thankfully, and he made sure that the lock on the stall was in place before he took the phone out of the pouch. The message app was up. The lockscreen only showed the square icon of the last person to send a message; the picture of a cartoon cat with a little pink bow. Hagakure?! But how? Was it a delayed response to something else that only came through now for some reason? The phone was shaking; it took a moment for Ojiro to realize that his hands were the cause. He was barely able to unlock the phone, trembling thumb pressing the wrong numbers. It took seven solid tries and numerous backspacing. A fresh message was there. It came in an hour and a half ago. We’re here. We’re coming. Holy shit. Ojiro almost dropped the phone entirely. He sat down on the toilet, trying to get his brain to function well enough to read the rest of the paragraph-long message. I can’t send a lot of texts, but we’re coming and we’ll be there in a few days I think and I really hope you’re okay everybody misses you we didn’t forget you I miss you. We’re coming!!! He had been right. The phone had picked up a signal as soon as the Pro Heroes were in this universe. They hadn’t left him behind. Something deep inside of his chest hurt and a bit of laughter came with it; the relief was so strong that his heart felt like it was about to burst. They hadn’t forgotten him! They were taking the risk to rescue him after all! He had always wanted to cling to that hope, but there had been that doubt, that tickling at the back of his mind that he wouldn’t be worth it… Why was Hagakure with them? Oh, no, did she sneak after them like how Midoriya and the others had when they went after Bakugo? If she hadn’t, would the Pro Heroes even have a phone that his could connect to? He always knew that she was brave and smart, smarter than she thought she was, he always tried to tell her that she was… They would be here in a few days… They might not get here in time. That sudden realization made everything come to a screeching halt. The demon, that vidame, it said it would come back. Ken-sensei had warned it could be as little as a single day. That had only been two days ago. That demon… Oh. Ojiro stared at the phone in his hands. Maybe the demons could pick up these messages, was that why Hagakure couldn’t keep sending him more than the one? His chest still hurt. His head was starting to hurt now, too, and weeks of overwhelming stress were starting to come out all at once now that he knew that people were on their way but it might not matter anymore, he still might not make it out of here alive. But this? This was a chance. He had a chance to tell Hagakure – to tell all of them – anything that he wanted. He could say goodbye. This was a chance and he couldn’t let it go by without saying anything. Not everyone had that; how many people here had died without being able to tell their friends final words? Breathing was suddenly difficult. Ojiro took in deep, heaving breaths, trying very hard to keep from crying because that would make people ask questions or at least look at him. Though, he doubted he was the first one to cry in the bathroom in this place. His hands were still shaking. He was barely able to type at all. ----------------------- The soft ding caused them all to stop walking. All eyes turned to the invisible girl in the middle of the pack. “Don’t tell me that he…?” Pixie Bob asked with growing concern. Hagakure let out an audible whimper as she pulled out her phone. The entire device shook in invisible hands. Then, she – at least, the hoodie that Katsuki had given up and the rest of them finally convinced her to wear – went stock still. After a few seconds, the whimpering came back, a blubbering mess. The gloves bobbed so erratically that it threatened to drop the phone. “I got it…!” Hawks had been closest; he grabbed the small device out of her hands before it could fall. Mandalay and Pixie Bob both rushed to the invisible girl’s side but were beaten to the punch by Kyoka and Ochaco; both of the teenagers wrapped her in dual sideways hugs. Hagakure had started to cry, muffled wails exiting past what were either her gloves or the hoodie sleeves. Hawks stared at the bright pink phone in his hands. As he read it, the words came with the typical slow cadence of a person reading someone else’s writing. “You might not get here in time. I’m sorry, I did my best to stay alive, and I think the me from this universe will be okay when you get here, but a demon said it was going to come back to give me to a… Tirasfal?” “The tifari?!” Shota gasped with sheer horror. “What’s…?” Aizawa barely got the word out. “The big feast…” Shota’s eyes were wide and looked at no one in particular. “Their calendars work differently from ours, but every three years, they have this grand celebration. They only take the highest quality meat from the best farms for those.” “I might already be dead by the time you get here.” Hawks was still reading, tone hushed. “I’m sorry. Tell my mom and dad that I love them and I’m sorry they won’t get to see me graduate. Tell the others that it wasn’t their fault, that the whole day was a mess.” He paused. “I miss you too. I’m sorry I never took you out. I should have asked you out. I’m sorry.” Hagakure wailed in to the embrace of multiple arms around her.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

There were four days of walking ahead of them and, at first, Aizawa was concerned that the teenagers that had snuck in after them wouldn’t be able to keep up. After all, Pro Heroes had undergone extensive training – both during their formative years and after – to increase their stamina. They could theoretically stay awake for days on end, never stopping to rest, if they really felt that the mission required it. Besides which, a Pro’s simple ‘power walk’, intended for patrols of their own, tended to be both longer lasting and at a faster pace than the normal population. Hell, there were a few Pros that ran fitness blogs about the whole thing. So, he was both impressed and startled to find that these children not only kept up with them but didn’t complain about it the entire time. Hagakure, as a student of U.A., at least had the understanding about how a mission could go, so that bit wasn’t a complete surprise. But the orphans? They weren’t lagging behind in the least. Aizawa was ashamed by how long it took to figure out what they had done. When he did, it was only because Ochaco’s face had taken on a bit of a green tinge. After that, he wasn’t sure if he should be chastising them or not. On one hand, he was even more impressed than before; on the other, he really, really wanted to let them know how stupid they were being. Ochaco had lightened them all. It made sense; without the weight of their own bodies to pull them down, they were able to go for longer. The problem was, it was also unreasonably unhealthy; there was a reason astronauts trained for low gravity situations for years before heading off in to space. Not only that, but the toll on Ochaco herself, who certainly didn’t have the training for this… He decided to let it go. An audible sigh and a knowing look aimed at the brunette’s direction was taken, though. Just to let them know that he knew. At least Ochaco looked embarrassed; the others, minus Katsuki and Mei, were similarly sheepish. Even Hagakure twiddled her thumbs. The other two just stared back at him, as if daring him to make it in to an issue. Teenagers. Ugh. Other than that, though, the first night went surprisingly well. Without any cities in this universe, there was no light pollution keeping the stars at bay; the forest was decently well lit, letting them walk clear until midnight. Only then did they make camp. They did so in the trees. A demon patrol just stepping on them seemed like a terrible way to wake up, and, for a moment, Aizawa had thought that they wouldn’t have enough supplies for all of them; they had only brought enough camouflaged sleeping bags for the Pros and the villains, not six additional teenagers. He wound up not needing to say anything about it. They were already up there. Ochaco had floated them up and Hanta’s tape kept them secure to the branches. Once on the sturdy part of a tree, Kyoka plugged her earphone jacks in to the bark, listening for anything that may have been coming for them. Mei peered around in the darkness as a scout on her own as Katsuki made certain that everyone was secure and covered with leaf-printed blankets. Hagakure was… Somewhere, and Aizawa was briefly startled to realize that he couldn’t find her, until he saw empty gloves draped over sneakers on a high branch being shoved in to a knothole by invisible hands. These kids had figured it out. They had been prepared for this situation. He had to admit that Katsuki had picked a hell of a team for this; each had a role to fill and they were filling it well. Then, he noticed that both the Pro Heroes and villains looked similarly impressed. Compress stared at them, mask still on, from a secured sleeping bag in the canopy. Spinner had climbed up on his own but gave the kids a brief lookover and a nod before getting his own space ready. Twice looked very much like a demented bird, perching on a branch and eyes wide as he stared at the lot of teenagers for a little bit too long. Compress had to nudge him to get him to stop. It was going to be a very long few days. ---------------  “Don’t indoctrinate them.” Mandalay’s warning came in a biting tone as soon as they were up some six hours later. “What?” Spinner was confused enough that he didn’t immediately start fighting. “We won’t.” Compress said with a sigh. “This situation is neither the time nor place to talk about Stain’s work.” “They’re going to have questions, though.” Shota said with his mask of a smile. “In fact, I have some questions.” “Don’t indoctrinate him, either.” Mandalay gave Aizawa’s counterpart a sideways stare before glaring back at the villains. “We’re not stupid, you know.” Katsuki snarled as he climbed down from his chosen sleeping spot. “We actually did some research about the whole villains and heroes thing. We got that shit down.” “This is still neither the time nor place.” Compress’s nervous tone matched his actions; he looked around as if a demon might jump out at any moment. “I agree.” Aizawa never thought he’d say that in regard to a villain, but here they were. “We need to make as little noise as possible. We don’t know who or what is around here.” “Besides, all they want is communism.” Mei said cheekily. For a moment, everyone was stone quiet. “What?” Spinner’s confusion hadn’t left. “No, Mei…” Hanta had a hand over his face and he looked ready to laugh. “That’s what Stain’s thing was about, right?” Mei beamed at the villains. “Oh, come on, I figured out the internet weeks ago. Stain’s whole manifesto’s out there! It’s just, ‘kill the fake Pro Heroes and anyone that disagreed, create a new society of equality from the ensuing chaos, equality for the people with weak or no quirks’, ergo, communism!” Another few seconds of silence passed. “…This is still neither the time nor place.” Compress sounded like he didn’t like Mei’s analysis one bit, tone cold. “Also, no.” Katsuki’s expression shifted; he looked like he was having trouble connecting Mei’s points together. “You figured out the internet?” Ochaco asked with clear shock. “When and how did you get something to access the internet?” Hanta boggled. “I’m wondering that, too, actually.” Aizawa stared at the pink-haired girl. “From every phone in the lab.” Mei stared back with clear humor. “Hatsume-san showed me how to use her phone on day one.” “Why didn’t we get access to the internet?” Hanta asked with a pout. “We barely figured out the microwave like a week ago, do you honestly think we’re ready for that?” Kyoka pinched the bridge of her nose. “We’re wasting time.” Hawks laughed quietly, entire body quaking. “Guys…!” “The only one Stain thought was worthy was All Might, right?” Mei had looped back a conversation. She walked closer to the villains, practically shoving herself in to their space. “And he teaches at U.A., so shouldn’t all of the students he teaches, by virtue of association, also be worthy?” Aizawa immediately saw what she was getting at and he didn’t like it; the last thing that they needed was a fight amongst themselves. “Mei, that’s enough. Don’t push this.” Mei let out a dramatic sigh, entire body slouching, but at least she stopped talking. Both Kyoka and Ochaco patted her back from opposite sides, smirks on their faces. The villains were all staring at the pink-haired girl. Spinner’s eyes were narrowed and it looked like he didn’t like what she was getting at. Twice had an expression of sheer confusion despite the cloth over his entire face. Compress said nothing. Well, at least the villains weren’t going to gain new recruits out of this lot. A short distance away, from the corner of his vision, Aizawa spotted floating gloves holding a phone; it glowed faintly in the early dawn. ----------------------  There were no sightings of any demons clear in to the second day. The problem was, there was no sighting of anything else at all, either. “Is anyone else a bit freaked out by the lack of wildlife?” Hawks broke their silent trek somewhere in the early afternoon. “I mean, there shouldn’t be anyone hunting animals, right?” “There shouldn’t be.” Shota agreed; he had a very slight frown on his face. “I wondered the same thing, too, when I was young and snuck to the top of the wall. The most we’ve ever seen was birds.” “Maybe we’re too close to the walls?” Hanta offered with a shrug. That, as well, was a little odd; the path that their tracking device led them practically hugged the chasm surrounding the farms. By the slight angle the walls took, each bend signifying a new farm, they had passed a total of six. Their straight-line walk had gotten them farther from the circle, but not by much. “Maybe the animals are afraid of the patrols, whenever they come around.” Edgeshot mused aloud. “Maybe their tastes include a variety of meats.” “The demons that killed Fumi did say that they eat cats…” Kyoka said in a near-whisper. “Hey, uh, movement at our four?” Mei squeaked nervously. Cover was taken immediately; nearby shrubbery and the use of blankets made to look like rocks were over them within seconds. The movement, though, did not come from overhead; there was no shadow cast by a demon lumbering by. Instead, movement came from the nearest wall. On his end, Aizawa wondered how Mei even noticed it, zoom quirk or not; a hand waved itself above the top of the wall, palm flattening and grabbing blindly at the flat concrete. They were such a long distance away that someone climbing up from the other side was nearly impossible to spot. Nearly; the more the body on the other side went up, the more they were able to make of it. “Oh…!” Shota gasped from next to him. The figure finally climbed itself up and it was terribly small. A little boy wobbled on top before standing firm; a black-haired head turned slowly to stare at the cliff he stood by. The gleaming white uniform reflected the sun. He couldn’t have been any older than twelve.Even from where he was and peeking through foliage, Aizawa could see the shock and horror on the child’s face. “Another kid’s figured it out.” Katsuki sighed. “I can fly over and pick him up…!” Hawks twitched anxiously. “Tracking device.” Pixie Bob reminded him with a wince. “We can cut his ear off.” Mei offered. “That’s how I got mine out.” From the side, Aizawa spotted Spinner turning to give her an incredulous stare. Then, there was more movement from the wall. The young boy turned to the side in visible alarm before taking a few steps back along the wall; the fear on his face increased and from his skin grew thin, long black spikes, like nails sticking out of a plank of wood. He looked ready to fight. Bare steps away from the boy, another body pulled itself atop the wall. The vest, button shirt, long tie and dark trousers revealed the caretaker for who he was before he was fully up there. The mass of lilac hair held back in a neat ponytail and the green scales that covered his body revealed him for who he was. The sound of a branch cracking went off nearby; Aizawa turned fully to stare at Spinner, who looked like he had stumbled from his crouching position. “What the…?!” The lizard-like villain looked like he was staring at a ghost. “If it’s any consolation, it doesn’t get any less strange.” Aizawa tried. Atop the wall, it looked like the sensei and the boy were having a conversation. The same small, Stepford Smile that Shota tended to wear was plastered on Spinner’s local counterpart. However, it wasn’t quite as perfect; the edges of his eyes were strained. Both the child and the adult looked ready to crack. “I can still fly up there.” Hawks said with a small whine. “He’ll sound the alarm.” Shota sighed. “Can’t we talk to him?” Compress asked with a troubled air. “We can disable the heart implants. Can’t we make him an offer?” “He won’t believe us.” Shota shook his head softly. “I wouldn’t have. I almost didn’t, when this all started. Had you come to me when I was still at my farm, I would have seen you as a threat to my very existence, not as a savior. The first thing I would have done was call for them.” His voice dropped even lower. “I would have done everything I could to preserve the only future that I thought I had. He will do the same thing.” Atop the wall, the green-scaled Sensei had unbuttoned his vest and the top of his shirt. The implant scar was there, clearly defined from scales that must have been removed and had never grown back. It was a sickly sight; the boy he was talking to covered his mouth in horror. “What the fuck…?!” Spinner was still in some sort of shock. He already knew about the implants; that alone wasn’t what was bothering him. It must have been everything put together. “We can’t risk it.” Aizawa wasn’t sure what he could possibly say to the lizard-like villain right now, but he had to agree with his counterpart. “We’ve come too far.” “Puts the whole fucking op at risk, but… We can double back later.” Katsuki said with pure resolution. “Double back and break out as many farm kids as we can. Take a portal back home after.” No one argued with him either for or against. Atop the wall, the boy’s spikes melted back in to his skin before he sagged in visible surrender. The scaled caretaker buttoned his shirt, wrapped the child in a hug, and then climbed back down the other side of the wall with the boy still in his arms. After that, there was nothing else to do but to keep walking. Their path finally broke away from the walls a few hours later. ----------------- “I don’t think he’s handling all of this too good.” Twice said in a sudden whisper, apropos of nothing, a day later. “He’s been in a super good mood!” Aizawa blinked at him once, startled and confused. “Who?” “Spinner!” Twice sputtered, gesturing to the scale-covered villain a distance ahead. “He’s been super chummy with the guy that looks like you! It’s probably nothing serious.” He had to admit, Twice’s concerns weren’t unfounded. Since spotting his alternate self atop that wall, Spinner hadn’t left Shota’s side. The conversations had been quiet, but the questions that must have been asked had often left Shota looking concerned. “He’s been asking about this universe.” Compress came along his other side. “About how the version of him from this universe might have lived. About the kind of life he may have had.” “That’s not a good thing!” Twice’s forced whisper bordered on breaking in to an actual yell. “He’s getting in too deep! The extra information couldn’t hurt, though, right?” Why were they involving him in this conversation? Aizawa frowned. “I don’t know what you expect me to do about this.” “You have experience with this weird stuff!” Twice flailed his arms as if it would help clear up his meaning. “You’ve been hanging out with… You! It’s not the same as a double! I would’ve handled this all just fine, probably!” “None of us handled all of this shit the same way.” There was Katsuki, butting in to the conversation from the side. “Hell, we all saw, uh, us, too.” “Must have been quite a scene, going from one universe in to another and meeting yourself.” Compress said with a curious tone. “You’ve no idea. We got to meet ‘em and learn about their families. It’s trippy as fuck.” Katsuki let out a small growl. He then gestured with the tilt of his head towards Spinner a distance ahead. “But he’s gettin’ it. Just gotta let him deal with it however he deals with it.” Aizawa stared at the spikey-haired blonde; he hadn’t expected that level of maturity from the teen. “That, and I don’t know if he’s the kind of guy that throws up when he gets freaked out or not.” Katsuki shrugged. “Some of the others kinda had a bad few days at the start.” “I only threw up the one time…!” Hanta yelped from behind them. “He didn’t actually mention you specifically, you know.” Kyoka chuckled. “Wasn’t Koji sick for a week after…?” Ochaco said with a small frown. “Could’ve been the radiation poisoning.” Mei shrugged. “I’m sorry, radiation poisoning?” Compress said with audible concern. “How do you think the portals work?” Mei had that manic grin on her face again. “My original design was powered with plutonium.” “But the current ones aren’t.” Aizawa could feel the headache coming on. “Yours was a more desperate situation.” “Still, there’s trace radiation in the portals themselves.” Mei was still grinning. “Probably within safe limits. Probably.” “She’s messing with us.” Katsuki said without a hint of worry. “Am I?!” Mei grinned. Aizawa shot her a look. “…Okay, fine.” Mei deflated. “Fine, messing with all of you just a little.” “Uhm, guys?” Hagakure’s nervous voice came from up ahead. “Uh… I think a demon’s been here.” All conversation came to a solid halt. The group of mostly Pro Heroes a short distance ahead had paused next to what Aizawa couldn’t immediately see beyond some boulders and fallen branches. The first thing that he noticed was the blood. The second thing was the fur. The third was the lack of stench a corpse usually made. Whatever it once was had been reduced to a messy pile of gore and viscera; bones had been crumbled and crunched together, slash marks that had cut the body apart trailed blood and leaves across the grass. Flies buzzed around the fresh kill; ants ran along the trail. Open piles of meat had bite marks and puncture wounds. “Couldn’t have been here long.” Edgeshot sounded alarmed. “Hours, at best.” “Was that a bear?” Hawks mused nervously. “The head’s gone.” “So are most of the internal organs.” Spinner visibly twitched, one hand already reaching for his sword. “Looks too deflated.” “Guys!” Mei yelped. “Something’s coming!” Almost instantly, they were back in the shrubbery. Several nearby branches from trees above had been broken and lay around them. The breaks looked recent; Aizawa didn’t think that a storm had caused it. Mei’s warning, it wound up, came with enough time to hide properly. Her quirk must have spotted the incoming trouble from quite a bit away; the noises didn’t even start for a solid minute and a half. When it did, it came with the thundering trampling of something large fleeing on four limbs. At first, Aizawa mistook it for an animal; a particularly large deer, perhaps, or a wild hog. When the body finally crashed through the woods, he almost thought that it was something benign. Almost. It had the antlers of a grown buck, but that was the only similarity; green skin was patched haphazardly with different blocks of brown and black fur. The front legs came small and stout and resembled the bear carcass that lay nearby, but with the same wickedly long claws of the rest of demon kind; the back legs were thin, long, distorted, and it took a moment to recognize the shape as being similar to a grasshopper. One too large eye made up nearly the thing’s entire skull, edges covered in thick red veins; fangs and teeth were twisted and warped, some curling backwards from its own mouth and nearly touched that giant eye. The thing was easily thrice the size of any of them. It screamed. It did not sound like a human or a demon; it was a distorted, pitched whine with a shrill, bird-like echo. A loud bang filled the air; someone was shooting at it. Two more shots followed it, ringing out in the air. One bullet nicked the creature’s side; it screamed again and hit full on in to the bear carcass as it ran. It let out what sounded like a snort as it stumbled back up. Then, it pivoted where it was and stopped. The creature turned to stare at where they were hiding. Someone next to him took in a sharp intake. Aizawa glanced around at their hiding space; the others were hidden well enough that even he couldn’t see them that well, but he could see Pixie Bob’s hand twitching and some pebbles hovering next to her. He could see Spinner slowly move to grab for his sword. He could see Kyoka pull a small switchblade from a pocket and Hanta’s wide-eyed terror. The sound of something purely bestial taking in harsh breaths from very close by brought Aizawa back to where he was; the monster wasn’t exactly in front of his face, but it was sniffing at the bushes next to him. Where Mei was hiding. Shit. There were still someone nearby that had shot at the monster and he doubted that it was a human. If there were demons nearby and whatever the hell this thing was, they couldn’t afford to get in to a fight. Not all of them would make it out in one piece if they did. The creature let out a new distorted yell that sounded like the buzz of a swarm of bugs and a bird’s caw playing at once and pushed through a distortion filter. The force of the roar ruffled the leaves; for a brief moment, Aizawa could see the wide whites of Mei’s eyes.He almost jumped in to the fray; Aizawa felt his entire body twitch, ready to wrap his capture tape around the creature – whatever it was, did it even have a quirk to cancel?! – when a hand suddenly gripping his arm stopped him.Mr. Compress’s mask stared at him. Then, it turned to look to the side, to a clearing of brush further away.There was movement coming from there; too many trees were rustling and there was the sound of too many cracking branches. “Easy!” A voice came from there, as well; that one did sound like a demon, that human-like voice with the background echo. “Don’t get too close to it!” “I’m new to this but I’m not that new to this!” A second demon, who sounded more like a young woman, said with clear panic. From the forest, the two demons quickly came through. They looked more like the kind Aizawa had seen back on U.A. grounds; taller, thinner and two vertical set eyes beneath small horns. They both wore long brown cloaks covered in pockets and decorative patches that he thought might have been a uniform. Each of them held a gun easily larger than most grown men. One of the demons shot the gun at the creature again. It hit it, this time, in the back. The creature turned and let out a too high-pitched cry of buzzing insects and a cat’s wail; then, it lunged at the demon that had shot it. It landed soundly, pushing one of the demons to the ground; it immediately began to claw at that horned face. It jumped away from Mei’s hiding spot; Aizawa felt relief so strong that the earth itself pulled away. “Kor!” The other demon, the woman, yelled; it wasn’t clear if it was a name or a swear. The demon beneath the monster screamed; long claws barely held the monsters’ own from stabbing it completely, one knee shakily keeping jaws at bay. “Shoot it! Shoot it!” Gunfire filled the air; the gun, however, didn’t seem to be one of the rapid-fire sorts. The blasts came slow and individually, filling the air with single blasts every couple of seconds. The monster and the demon it was on top of both screamed. It took nearly half a minute of solid shooting before the strange patchwork creature finally stopped moving. The demon underneath it was covered in blood. “Kor…?” So it was a name; the female demon whimpered it as she shoved the monsters’ body aside with a heaving breath. It must have been heavy. “I’m okay.” The other demon stumbled back up. “I’m…” It paused; blood seeped through the brown cloak. “…You shot me.” “Oh no.” A whimper. “I didn’t mean –” The bleeding demon let out a weak, wet laugh. “These things happen when hunting ferals. Let’s just get back to the station and report this in.” A visible heavy wince. “You might have to carry me half the way.” “Yes, sir.” The female demon visibly shook as she hefted the other ones’ arm over her shoulders. Then, they both stumbled away, moving far too slowly. Nothing happened for what felt like a very long time. “‘Ferals’?!” Hawks sputtered, eventually breaking the tense silence. “Are you serious?!” “We now have two potential issues to deal with.” Aizawa said with a deep sigh. “Mei, are you all right?” “I’m fine.” The response came with a tremble as Mei stumbled out of the bushes. “I’m okay.” The rest of the teenagers rushed to her side; Katsuki wrapped her in a strong, hard hug. She collapsed in to it, entire body shaking. “The patrols were not for us…?” Shota sounded shocked. “They’re for these… Ferals?” “The good news is, none of us were spotted.” Compress sounded relieved. “The curtain hasn’t gone down yet.” “I don’t like this universe.” Twice groaned. “Nope. Not one bit. Never wanna come back. A weekend vacation, maybe.” ------------------ They knew they were getting close when the forest abruptly ended. They almost hadn’t realized when it did; it took a moment for Aizawa to notice that things were a little brighter almost five steps in to the sudden road under his feet. It was well past sunset and the stars above were gleaming down on them. Aizawa had the feeling that the shame of scurrying back in to the forest would stay with him for a long while yet. “The tracking device still says to go that way.” Edgeshot said lamely, gesturing to where the road went. And it was, in what felt startling, a full-fledged road. It was an entire intersection, going left and right and then straight on; it was complete with black asphalt with white line in the middle. There were even street lights here and there. “That’s a traffic light.” Spinner said dumbly; he pointed to the far distance. A small round green dot shone. It flickered once and then was red. “They… Do have cars.” Shota sounded just as stunned. “I’ve only ridden in one once, when I left the training facility…” “So the road probably goes directly there.” Aizawa frowned deeply. “This is problematic. We’ll be out in the open.” “They didn’t clear everything around the road.” Mei peered through the darkness. “There’s more forest by the sides. I think they just cleared this intersection here.” “The sun’s already down, Eraser.” Mandalay said with the same troubled air that he felt. “If we’re going to be out in the open, this is our shot.” “Straight run to the next patch of forest?” Pixie Bob stretched her arms. “Hey, kids, you up for this?” Hawks grinned at the lot of teenagers; by the jovial tone, he didn’t think he’d get a negative response. Ochaco was already giving her friends light taps all around. Then, they ran.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

In that comparatively brief moment when they were all out in that open field, Aizawa had been absolutely certain that something was going to happen. Whether it was luck, karma, will of whatever gods were involved, or what else anyone wanted to call it, but good fortune was something that they had to be running short on by now. They had seen that child on the wall, had made far more noise than anyone should on a mission of this sort, and had come cross not one but two demons hunting some monstrous sort of third. In that time, none of them had been noticed. Absolutely nothing had gone to hell. Things never went this well on this long of an op. They just didn’t. Granted, this was far from the typical sort of extended mission, there weren’t the typical villains involved – not counting those traveling with them – but honestly… And, yet, still, nothing happened. They reached the next patch of forest by the roadside without seeing anything or anyone at all. Their biggest issues, so far, had been mosquitoes and spiders. The only thing that they came across was that streetlight along the way, one that overlooked a second intersection. It glared green, yellow, red; no cars passed by to follow the orders. Villain, hero and teenager all were silent when they passed by it. Aizawa was similarly disturbed, though he couldn’t quite pinpoint a reason why. Was the streetlight a leftover remnant from a time before the demons, if such a thing even existed in this universe? Or was it put in after, a small piece of human technology stolen and used? They passed by it without any discussion or theory-crafting. The closer they got to their target, the higher the tension grew. It was clear as day on all of them; the light goosebumps, the stiffened expressions, furrowed eyebrows and the light cracking of limbs. The children were showing it off the worst; Hanta and Ochaco both were shaking more now than they had been a couple of days ago. Mei hadn’t gone through her typical rambling for more than sixteen hours. Kyoka had taken to twirling a pocket knife in her hands and Aizawa wondered where and when she got a hold of it; he decided not to ask. Katsuki almost looked like himself – or like Bakugo, as it were – if it hadn’t been for the slight strain at the edge of his eyes, the kind that betrayed the real fear and anxiety that gnawed at him. Hagakure, having what was undeniably the best poker face for the obvious reasons, would have been able to hide her emotions if she wasn’t such a bleeding heart. The faint glow of the phone went off once in a while; she only looked at the screen – most likely the same app, the same final message sent – but didn’t respond. She must have been reading it over and over. These kids were going to need years of therapy after this was all over. The next time anything almost happened was when they were less than half a day from their destination. They were, at worst, four hours of walking away when they heard the noise. It was faint and would have been easy to ignore a universe away; cars going by were such a common thing back home. Here, it caused them all to stop in sheer shock before taking cover in the wild growth of trees and shrubbery around them. Three small trucks passed by; the first one had an open back with piles of fresh produce. In the fading dredges of the dying afternoon, it was easy to make out the corn, edamame, grapes, peaches; there were boxes closed beneath the bright colors likely filled with more. The two trucks following the first were closed, windowless and white. The style of the back of the vehicles gave them away; freezer trucks for meat. The vehicles didn’t drive by particularly fast; in those few moments, Aizawa could make out the drivers’ faces. Middle aged, tired-looking men. None of them had numbers on their necks. “Wha…” Katsuki must have noticed it, too; he sounded angry. “I always suspected that the free human farmers wouldn’t be marked.” Shota mused aloud, sounding as if he had just witnessed a murder. Along the way, Shota had already told them what little he knew and the things that he had theorized about over the years; none of them asked him for clarification or for information that they knew he wouldn’t have. He had been kept in ignorance as much as the children; the most they had to work with was conjecture. Two hours later – and two hours until they reached their target – the trucks came back from the other direction. The first truck wasn’t empty, but the few small boxes strapped to the back had spoiled and overly bruised fruits and vegetables. The freezer trucks were almost exactly the same, if not for a bright red stain on the back of the second truck. It was small, but red against white stood out; it lay on the bottom of the white-painted freezer door and on the bumper. Meat ready for cooking didn’t bleed. A pit formed in his stomach; Ojiro had warned them, in his final text, that they might not get there in time. If they had just missed him, if that was his blood on the truck and his corpse wheeling on by… Hagakure let out a high-pitched gasp and a faint sob. The phone was in her gloved hands. It had not gone off with the sound of any new messages. Aizawa turned to her, intending to offer her some words of hope, only to find – much to his surprise – that Katsuki was already there. He was hugging her, and it looked like her face might have been in his chest, the blonde whispering something to her that he couldn’t make out. He wasn’t the only one surprised by the scene; the faces around him were similarly startled. “We won’t know for sure until we get there.” Compress, shockingly, was the only one to say anything at all, confirming that they were all running on the same line of thought. His tone, under the mask, was soft. As if he cared about Hagakure’s mental state. Still, he was right. They were only a couple of hours away. There was nothing left to do but to keep going.------------------ The building was absolutely massive. It was large, a weathered gray, and didn’t have a single decorative element to it. It was a two-floor monstrosity that looked like a giant storage box had been left in the middle of the woods. The only clearing was by the front doors, where a driveway met the road. The entire compound was easily larger than U.A’s main building and was probably at least twice the size. “How many people are in this place?” Mandalay asked warily. “That is a good question.” Shota’s response came a touch nervously. “There might be as many as two hundred or so trainees… Students… However you like to call them. I don’t remember what was in the way of security or if it was automatic. When I was there, no one tried to rebel or escape. And I think,” He frowned. “Four instructors? It’s been fifteen years, a great deal of it is…” He paused, visibly struggling to form the right words. “…Fuzzy.” “Yeah, I repressed most of high school, too.” Spinner said a little faintly. Aizawa turned to stare and, from the corners of his vision, he saw several of the others do the same thing. Both Compress and Twice were giving their scaled counterpart blank masked stares; judging by the faint blush coloring the green villain’s face and the way he was covering his eyes, Spinner was likely wondering why those words had left his own mouth. What it did do, though, was lift the mood; nearby, Shota had a brow raised but was smiling just a little. He was going to have make sure his counterpart wasn’t going to get pulled in by these villains once they were back home, wasn’t he? From here, though, the plan was now fully in effect. From the backpacks of supplies that had been carried with them over these several days, Pixie Bob pulled out a tablet. It had been charging through solar panels the entire trip and it glowed brightly when she turned it on. It didn’t take long. “The good news is, their firewalls are crap.” Pixie Bob smiled faintly as she tapped at the screen. “There’s cameras all over the facility and I’m already accessing their security protocols. It shouldn’t take long to disable them and to loop the camera feed.” “Did you just digitally hijack this place with… That?” Mei had come back to herself, stars in her eyes, as she stared at the tablet in question. “I didn’t think they’d have wifi here!” “They don’t.” Pixie Bob grinned. “Back home, a bunch of villain groups figured they could get around getting infiltrated if they kept things low tech with hard-wired connections and low-tier modems. We’ve figured out ways around it.” “Are you spoofing a dial-up connection?!” Mei gasped in sheer awe. “Can the rest of us have a translation of this conversation?” Katsuki stared with sheer confusion. “I understood some of those words.” Hanta whimpered. “I’m not sure those were all real words.” Kyoka said with a bit of amusement. “Kids, trust me,” Hawks said with a small hysterical laugh. “At certain points, it’s easier to simply to let some Pros do what they do best than to try and understand every little bit of it.” “And we’re in.” Pixie Bob smiled softly at Mei before looking back at the screen. The smile quickly faded. “Cameras are all on loop, doors are all unlocked, but I couldn’t disable every element. That, and I found a registry, but it’s all… Numerical.” The teenagers present grimaced with identical disgust. “Ojiro didn’t have a number.” Hagakure said in a near whisper. “He’s not from here.” “They might’ve given him one.” Aizawa glared at the building in the distance. It hadn’t been outside the realm of possibility; if only for the demon’s cataloguing system and to keep track of who was where, but still... “It’s as every bit as obscene as you feel it is.” “There’s two listed as an ‘A’ and a ‘B’ of the same number.” Pixie Bob looked over the top of the tablet towards the kids. “56455?” “That’s the one.” Katsuki snarled. “Opposite ends of the building, but both on the first floor.” Pixie Bob frowned. “A’s closer to us than B is.” “But they’re both still there.” Mandalay said as she peeked at the screen. “They’re both there.” Whoever’s blood had been on that truck hadn’t been from either of them; the relief fell over them like a blanket. Even the villains, what he could make out of their faces, seemed genuinely glad. “We’ll head for one and then the other. In and out.” Aizawa gave a stiff nod. “Let’s go.” With the doors unlocked, getting in was easy enough. They found a pair of gym-like double doors on the side of the building – going in from the front always felt like a trap no matter what mission was underway and even the villains didn’t mention it – and an unspoken vow of silence was immediately taken. The halls were empty. The walls were flat gray and the floor was solid cement. It was easier to clean blood off of that than wood or carpet, Aizawa knew, and the thought only made his nerves harden further. There wasn’t even a clock on the wall and still nothing even remotely decorative. The corners didn’t even have molding. Thankfully, the lights were all on, but he wasn’t sure if that made things better or worse. With the building as overly massive as it was, it took a solid few minutes to get to their first destination. What looked like doors came in to view around a corner, but they lacked handles, buttons or any way to open them. They were spaced apart more narrowly than some prisons Aizawa had visited. There were numbers on the doors, little temporary plaques that looked like they were stuck on with velcro. Every so often, a door didn’t have a number on it. There was the chance that they simply had been unassigned rooms, but since they were between those that were occupied, Aizawa didn’t bother holding on to the more hopeful of ideas; the harsh reality was more likely that some of the children that had been brought here were already dead. It was what Shota had said, hadn’t it? That they dwindled the numbers down until only a handful remained to graduate? From a hundred down to, what, five? Ten? Everyone else was reaching the same conclusions; hero and villain alike looked disturbed but not overly attached. It came with the territory, he supposed, to become distanced from things. The children, on the other hand… Aizawa eyed them. Hagakure had stopped more than once and had to be pushed along by Ochaco, whose eyes glistened under the artificial lights. Kyoka refused to look at the doors at all, fists clenched at her sides. Hanta looked particularly more green in the face than he had when they all walked in here; Mei had noticed a few seconds after Aizawa had and now grabbed for his hand, giving him an anchor to pull him along. Katsuki glared at every door without a number as if it personally injured him. They found the correct number after a few minutes. Pixie Bob held up the tablet and tapped at it a few times with the claws of her gloves. The door opened by suddenly sliding upwards in to the ceiling; it startled a few of them in to jumping ever so slightly. Inside, they found one extraordinarily terrified, but familiar teenage boy who was just then putting on a pair of pajama pants. The buttons around his tail weren’t even on yet. The room smelled wet and the steam coming out of a door to the side revealed the smallest bathroom Aizawa had ever seen in his life. The boy – and Aizawa was ashamed that he couldn’t tell which boy it was, if he came from this universe or if he was one of his own students – didn’t have a shirt on. The scar on his chest was bold and red from the heat of the recent shower. Hagakure let out a squeak. The boy in the room looked like he might faint; at the very least, he was in some shock. “Katsuki? Tooru?!” The one from this universe, then. “Mashirao…!” Kyoka was the one to gasp it; then, the five teenagers from this world rushed in, quiet but visibly emotional, to wrap their tailed friend in a group hug. Hagakure lingered behind. Aizawa set a hand on her shoulder, or at least where he guessed it was. “One down.” Edgeshot said from behind him. “We need to keep moving.” “Son of a bitch, you’re okay…!” Katsuki breathed but remembered not to speak above a whisper. “Where’s the thing for his chest?!” “Here,” Mandalay pushed herself in to the room and through the small mob of kids, a square block of a metal device in one hand. The underside of it was flat and she pressed it against the pale boy’s chest. “Don’t move for a few seconds. It needs to find the right frequency.” “You can stop the implants…?!” Now Mashirao looked like he really would faint; at the very least, his eyes were starting to tear up and he was starting to gasp, chest heaving under the metal. “Stop freaking out.” Katsuki’s order actually looked like it helped; the heaving quieted just a little. “We’re getting you out of here.” “Are you getting everyone else out, too?” Mashirao stared at the blonde. Then, he looked from Mandalay to the mass of the rest of them at the door. “…Was that even almost part of the plan?” Spinner asked with a deep frown. “Thought it was just the two kids and then try to find some sign of Toga.” “I’m not sure if we have the time.” Aizawa grimaced as he said it. “We need to do this as quickly as –” The lights in the hallways flickered. The sound of hundreds of metal doors sliding open all went off at once; it hit at the same time an explosion went off in the distance. Startled, Aizawa rushed back to the hall, flanked by both heroes and villains. The doors to all the other rooms were open. Whatever had exploded was far enough away that it was a muffled sort of tinny noise, but it was still going on. “Someone is messing with the security system,” Pixie Bob stared at her tablet. “And it isn’t us!” A bit closer to them than the explosions, the loud clang of doors opening and slamming shut went off. From around the corner that they came in from, a far-too-familiar man made of gray cement blocks strode in garbed in Victorian wear. His face was an expression of pure fury and Aizawa could not remember ever, ever seeing such a look on Cementoss’s face. “What the hell is going on here?!” It sounded like his colleague; it looked like his colleague. The rage did not. “Who are you people?!” “Shit.” Hawks summarized the situation rather well. “Well, here we go.” “Who…?” Shota asked softly from next to him. The floor was made of cement and it heaved underneath them now. From the open doors around them, hesitant faces peeked out – young, round faces, still growing in to adulthood, these were children here – only to pull back with yelps of alarm as spires of gray mass blocked their doorways. There wasn’t time to waste; Aizawa’s eyes flashed red and he felt his hair fly, canceling any further manipulation of the ground or walls around them. He expected to hear the pounding of fists against the already hardened cement from the rooms around him and was only a little surprised to find that there was none; none of the captive teenagers were trying to escape. At least, not noticeably. From around him, Edgeshot had already thinned out, readying but not quite yet attacking. Hawks, though, had his wings flared out and Spinner had already pulled out his sword. “Why aren’t we killing this guy?!” Twice asked loudly, voice echoing against the walls. “He looks like a piece of cake! He’ll kick our asses!” The Cementoss look-alike hadn’t made any new moves. He could have – should have, by all means, already tried to do something – but had gone still after his quirk had been cancelled. “… Shota?” The man at the other end of the hall stared at them. “Ken?!” Shota sputtered with the exact same amount of shock. “You know him?” Compress asked. Nothing happened for another solid few seconds. No one said anything at all. Then, Aizawa took a deep breath and allowed himself to blink. The fresh columns of cement around them immediately began to shrink. It looked like Ken had gone in to some sort of shock as he took slow, stunned steps towards them. Shota took two steps of his own but then stopped, visibly unsure. This version of Cementoss could still be an enemy, childhood friend of his own counterpart or not. Aizawa eyed both of the adults from this universe warily, still tense and prepared in case of a trap. It didn’t come. Instead, beady black eyes looked along them all; Ken performed only a small double-take as he looked from Shota and then to himself and then back again. “…Is this the ‘other universe’ thing?” “You know about that?” Aizawa found himself asking suspiciously. “We had a… Visit from some higher-ups a few days ago… And they…” Ken sputtered, but eventually looked back to Shota. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again!” Shota took the last few steps along the hall; then, they were hugging. Shota and Ken both had cracked grins on their faces, expressions that looked disturbing on the both of them, as they laughed with a bit of hysteria. “Okay, so we’re not fighting?” Spinner half moaned, but there was an air of relief as he shoved his sword back in its sheath. “If it helps, we’re good to go.” Mandalay said as she slowly walked out of Mashirao’s room. The flock of teenagers, all of which were now shaking, were behind her. “Good to go?” Ken repeated as he finally pulled back from the reunion. “You can’t just go, these kids all have implants in their chests! Hell, everyone in this building does! You need to get the hell out of here!” “They have a device that can stop the implants.” Shota smiled around relieved breaths.“Shota!” Aizawa tried to warn his counterpart. He either didn’t understand what he was trying to say or took it as encouragement. “We can get you out of here with us!” “Okay.” Hawks released a sigh of a breath. “Guess we’re doing that now.”Edgeshot let out a deep sigh. “How many implants can that device disable?” “I don’t think it has a limit?” Pixie Bob didn’t sound so sure of her answer. “The Pussycats didn’t build it, but I wasn’t told there was a limit. Only it has to individually find the frequency. Just takes time.” “So this isn’t a problem?” Aizawa turned to stare at them. “Are we sure?” The two present Wild Wild Pussycats looked to each other before looking back at him. “At this point, I’m not sure about anything.” Mandalay frowned. “Considering where we are and why, anything can go wrong.” “If you fall in the shitter, you gotta go with the flow!” Twice offered. “What?” Hawks half laughed, baffled. “Uncouth.” Compress visibly shuttered at the analogy. “Uh…” Mandalay was giving the black-masked villain a disgusted stare. “That’s –” Then, she stopped before looking to upwards with visible alarm. “Mandalay?” Aizawa frowned. “…Oh.” The brunette blinked rapidly. “Huh. There’s another… Me upstairs.” She paused. “There’s three people upstairs, yes.” Ken nodded quickly. “If you’re telling the truth about disabling the implants, I’m pretty sure they’ll help with whatever you’re planning.” “Yeah.” Mandalay said after a moment, a sad smile crossing her face. “Yeah, I think they’re not going to be a problem.” “What are you telling the other you?” Spinner asked with a raised brow. “About her kid.” Mandalay’s eyes shimmered. “Yeah. They’re going to help us.” From the nearby doorways, faces were peeking out again. Quiet, stunned teenagers were edging out, the same nervous terror along their faces. Aizawa looked at them, at the zombie-like movements and abject fear. Some of those faces were familiar. There was Monoma Neito, eyes wide and one hand clutching the doorframe as he peeked out the side. Shiozaki Ibara had taken a full step out of a room, hand covering her mouth. He thought he might have seen other faces that he knew further down the line and Aizawa was terribly glad that Vlad hadn’t come along on this mission. This was turning in to a much larger rescue than they had initially planned. Now, they couldn’t leave these kids behind, not after seeing those faces. “Sensei?” Hagakure suddenly piped up from his side. “Can… Can I send a message to Ojiro? He probably doesn’t know we’re here and if the doors everywhere are open like this, he –” “A short one.” Aizawa stopped her before she could spiral in to a frenzied ramble. She was right on account of the doors; if they were open, he could be wandering around. “Tell him that we’re here.” “We’re by the first-years’ rooms, if it helps?” Ken offered. “That.” Aizawa aimed nod at Hagakure’s general direction. “Make it short and succinct. Though, now that you mention is, why did the doors all open?” He looked to the face that still disturbed him by its’ similarity to Cementoss. “And that explosion that went off a few minutes ago?” “What?” Ken blinked. “I thought you did that.” “There’s a completely different set of intruders on the other end of the building!” Mandalay’s telepath, but judging by the look on her face, she wasn’t the one doing it. “They’re in the secondary data room. They set off some of the security traps. I don’t think anyone’s hurt, but it made a mess. If they’re not with you, then this is a hell of a coincidence.” A pause. “Some of the second-years are following them.” “That data room.” Ken let out a sigh. “Stupid kids probably wandered out just because the doors were open.” “They’re headed in your direction and they’re moving fast!” The telepath warned. From down the hall, in the opposite direction from where Ken had come from, a rumbling echoed.They braced themselves.---------------------- It all happened very suddenly. One moment, Ojiro was trying very hard to relax – to use the heat of the shower to let the tension and anxiety to lesson for just a little bit, just for a few minutes, all he wanted was just a few minutes of a clear head – when he heard the explosion. It was a sudden, loud boom that shook the showerhead and the few small bottles around him; it instantly woke him out of the usual exhaustion from the end of the day. Something had exploded. Someone had caused an explosion. Were they here? Was it time?! Did they actually get here before that demon came back?! He was so sure that they wouldn’t, had been bracing himself for days, had been preparing for the possibility that he could die at any time… Ojiro moved so quickly that he forgot to shut the shower off; he jumped out, briefly noticed that the door was now open, and managed to slide on a pair of pants and his cellphone pouch before heading to the door. There, he stopped, at a sudden horrible thought. The doors were open – and judging by the fact that the empty one across the hall was the same way, the doors in all of the rooms had likely been set off – but that didn’t mean that the implants weren’t in check. Were the hallways safe to go in to after the day was done? Oh, wouldn’t that be the way to go. Pro Heroes from a universe away were finally here to rescue him, and he dies in the hallway, half naked, from sheer stupidity. There came another, smaller explosion. As it went off, faint black smoke filled the hall. Wait. The doors had opened and now there was smoke. Was this a fire situation? Had the doors opened automatically to allow an evacuation? But there weren’t any alarms going off or any orders over the intercom. There was only one way to find out if it was safe to leave the room. Ojiro took a deep breath, steeled himself, and took the single step out. He braced for pain. Absolutely nothing happened. He almost collapsed from sheer relief; as it was, he had to lean against a wall. A glance back told him that no one else had been brave enough to head in to the hall. “It’s safe!” He may as well let them know. “The hallway’s safe!” “Holy crap…!” Yo inched himself out of a room; he managed to fully dress himself in what passed for nightwear. It was the same as their daily uniform but in black. “You have guts of steel…!” “This is odd.” Saiko frowned as she joined them, the only one of them that had remembered to put on shoes; she was shaking. “We may be under attack.” “Under attack? From who?” Yo laughed a little. “Like there’s actual people out there that can attack them.” “I don’t know what’s going on, but we can find out.” Ojiro gave a shrug. “The smoke’s coming from down there.” He started to run. He heard the footsteps of someone following him. By the sound of it, it was probably Saiko. “Guts of goddamn steel…!” Yo said again, trailing somewhere behind. There wasn’t a lot of smoke – none of them even coughed as they ran through it, and Ojiro didn’t feel any kind of tickling in his throat or any sign that there even was a fire that caused this – but they quickly found where it was coming from. The much larger sliding door – easily twice as wide as the ones to their rooms – was open. Smoke came out of it. The problem was, there were people in front of the door. Two figures leaned against the wall on either side, covered in sweat; they were each pointing guns at them. He recognized one of them immediately and, for a moment, he almost made a mistake. It was the numbers on their necks that told him that they weren’t who he almost thought they were. That was not Iida of all people, and the short blonde girl next to him looked familiar but he couldn’t – Wait, he saw her face on the news. After they were attacked in the forest and Bakugo had been kidnapped – Ojiro skid to a halt; he heard his friends – were they his friends, now? – doing the same behind him. This was not a rescue. These were not the Pros that were probably still on their way. He wasn’t sure what this was, exactly, but they had guns and, sure, they hadn’t shot them yet but that didn’t mean – “Mashirao?” The Iida look-alike stared. Oh. So he did know his other self. There had never been a discussion with Mashirao over who he did and didn’t know – how do you even have that kind of conversation? – so he hadn’t been sure, but was this a good thing or a bad thing? Don’t use last names, don’t use last names, don’t get shot… “Tenya?” “Holy…!” The gun in Tenya’s hands at least went down. “Of course Sensei would ship you out here…!” “You know him?” A numbered version of Himiko Toga was slowly putting her gun in a holster. “We came from the same farm.” Tenya smiled sadly, but only for a moment. “Oh. No. We just came here for information, not to get anyone out…” Ojiro could see where this was going. “You can’t disable the heart implants, can you?” This wasn’t the rescue that he had hoped it was. They weren’t leaving. “I’m… I’m sorry.” Tenya gulped. “We failed not to set off the security alarms, you shouldn’t have been woken up at all.” “All that, and we have to back…?” Yo let out a breath. “Where did you guys even come from?” “They’re part of a resistance movement,” Saiko said. “Aren’t you?” “Yup!” Himiko offered a sad-looking grin. “Sorry we fucked up. This was supposed to be an in-and-out deal.” “The nearest exit is down that way, I think.” Ojiro let out a sigh as he pointed down the hall. “There should be some double doors.” “I’m sorry.” Tenya said again; he looked like he meant it. “I’m sorry, but once we figure out how to disable the implants, we’ll come back –” A loud buzzing noise filled the air. Ojiro felt it along his spine as it did. His cell phone had gone off. Guns were back out; Himiko pointed hers down the hall while Tenya held his awkwardly, aiming at nothing. Ojiro pulled the phone from the pouch at the base of his tail. Then, he stared at the message on the lockscreen. “What the hell is that?” Yo stared at his phone. “You have a…” Tenya said slowly. “…Walkie-talkie?” “A what?” Yo blinked. They were here. There was a new message. The Pros were actually here. They were in the building. He now knew where they were and how to get to them. They were here! Ojiro’s mind went blank; he couldn’t think of what to say or how to explain it. So, he turned and ran down the hall. The sound of his own heartbeat blocked out everything else. ----------------------- As soon as Aizawa saw what was coming, he allowed himself to fully relax. He heard more than saw the others around him do the same; the slight exhales at the familiar face running full speed towards them and the sounds of weapons and quirks being put on the backburner. It took a moment to realize that Ojiro was not alone as he rushed for them from a seemingly impossibly long hallway; four others tailed him, all of them with equal expressions of sheer confusion. “Ojiro!” Hagakure shrieked; her invisible form, marked only by her sneakers and gloves, ran for him. What happened after that went exactly as Aizawa anticipated it would – at least, what he expected from Hagakure – and he began to make his way, at a much slower pace, towards the meltdown in progress. At least one other adult was behind him, but he didn’t immediately check to see who it was. Once the Point A that was Ojiro Mashirao met the Point B of Hagakure Tooru, both teenagers collapsed to the floor in a half-visible embrace. Both sides immediately started crying, though Hagakure was significantly louder and a far deal more stable; Ojiro was on the verge of hyperventilating from sheer joy. “It’s okay, it’s okay…!” Hagakure wept; her gloves were on his face. “We’re – Oh!” One of her gloved hands shakily moved to his chest, fingers barely touching at the bold red scar. “It’s, it’s… I’m… I’m okay.” Ojiro sputtered, but he very clearly was not. “I –" Then, in what was extraordinarily odd to see, they were kissing. Or, rather, Hagakure likely had shoved her face in to Ojiro’s; he reeled back in shock only for a moment. Then… Teenagers. Hormonal, extremely emotional teenagers on the tail end of a crisis. Ojiro’s tail was wagging. “Well.” Aizawa decided not to interrupt it; instead, he looked towards the four that had followed from down the hall. Four more familiar faces, though one half more than the other. They all stared at him blankly. “Toga!” Twice yelped from a short distance away. “Tog –” A pause. Aizawa turned to look to find that masked face looking thoroughly distraught. “Who’s Toga?” The blonde girl with the numbers on her neck blinked; she even had the same steely look to her eyes as her counterpart; they went around the people in front of her, analyzing. “Himiko, uhm…” Tenya – not an Iida, not in this universe – gestured down the hall. “This is going to sound odd, but Mashirao didn’t have a twin.” The blonde’s gaze went rapidly from Ojiro to Mashirao to Shota and then back to himself. Aizawa didn’t say a word; he held up a hand to silence everyone else. “…Holy hell.” Himiko gasped. “All those shitty rumors about another universe are true?!” Oh, good. She figured it out on her own. “Unfortunately for everyone involved, yes.” Aizawa gave her a curt nod. “Wait.” Tenya looked to Twice and his fellow villains, who were now approaching. “What did you call her just now? ‘Toga’?” “We came here looking for our friend, yes.” Compress let out a deep breath. “I don’t suppose you have any information?” He didn’t sound hopeful. “No, but I know who would.” Himiko nodded slowly in thought. “There were rumors that I was caught, but we figured those were flat lies, but if they got some other-universe me instead, then we totally know who to ask about it!” “Back at base camp?” Tenya didn’t look happy about the answer. “Back at base camp!” Himiko confirmed with the familiar near-manic grin. Conversations were starting to swarm, now. It was a recognizable sort of lull, the kind that came when a mission was wrapping up and villains were either caught or put down. Aizawa had heard it countless times; the hostages talking to police and medical personnel, Pro Heroes mingling amongst themselves to tally the latest war wounds, media pushing in with questions and, occasionally, accusations. This wasn’t all too dissimilar. The Pros that had come with him were talking to the teenagers that were now slowly coming out of their rooms and tearful conversations were passing between both rescuers and the rescued. Back home, Aizawa tended to duck out at these moments, to let someone else handle the media inquiries and to take credit for a job well done; an underground hero was better off if people didn’t know they were involved, after all. Here, he couldn’t do much more than observe. To wait. “Sorry to get in the way, here,” Mandalay chuckled as she sat by Ojiro and Hagakure, both of which were still clinging to each other on the floor. “But I need to disable that implant.” “Oh…!” Ojiro looked ready to start crying all over again as the metal device was placed on his chest. “They can get us out of here…?” Neito’s local doppelganger gasped loudly. Joyful shouts rose as the news trickled down the hall. Conversations still milled around. “Ken,” Shota wasn’t smiling as he looked to the man made of cement. “When I was shipped out… I never found out. What happened to Nemuri and Hizashi?” “Oh. Right, you wouldn’t know.” Ken let out a deep breath. “Nemuri was shipped out about six months after you were. Hizashi made it clear until he was fifteen, but then he was gone, too.” Shota gave a slow nod. “I knew both of them must have been killed by this point, but… Thank you.” And so the chatter went on. “If you don’t mind,” Compress looked to Himiko and Tenya. “We would like to come with you to your ‘base camp’.” “To find your friend, yeah.” Himiko beamed at them. “Was about to ask!” “Hey, uh…” Spinner looked back towards the Pros. “There’s two portal things, right? We need one.” “Uh…” Edgeshot looked startled. “Come on, we need a way to get back!” The lizard-like villain glared. “Give it to them.” Aizawa sighed. “They’re right. They’ll need it.” That, and the longer they were in this universe, the less havoc they could cause back home. But that didn’t need to be said out loud. “Huh.” Spinner looked to him with clear surprise. Then, a slow nod of gratitude. “Thanks.” “You can have mine!” There was Mei, smiling brightly as she held out her home-made portal machine. “You know it needs a charge time, right? Keep in mind that if the portal closes and someone’s still in it, they will literally get chopped.” “That sounds terrifying.” Compress sounded amused as he took the remote-like device. “Thank you. Despite our, ahem, differences of opinion, it’s been a pleasure to share the stage with you.” Everyone appeared to be calming down. There were more smiles, now, than tears, though the two did overlap on a great many faces. Mandalay was going around the hall, placing the device on chest after chest. It would take a very long time – hours, most likely – to get everyone ready to leave. Once Ken’s had been disabled, he buttoned up his shirt again with shaking gray hands. “I suppose I should wake up everyone else. I have no idea how I’m going to explain –” “Ken, wait!” Mandalay’s telepath went off. By the looks of the everyone else’s faces, they had all heard that. “That sounds so strange coming from someone else…” Mandalay mused aloud. “We have a problem. A certain Vidame is on the way.” A loud gasp came from the side; Aizawa turned to find that Ojiro, still on the floor, had gone stock still. The boy was still holding on to Hagakure, but his tail had gone stiff in the air and his eyes had shot wide. “A Vidame?” Himiko sputtered. “The fuck’s a low level noble bastard coming over here for?” “A pickup is going to be here in twenty minutes.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

For the most part, the only thing that Aizawa saw on the faces of those around him was sheer confusion. The warning that came from Mandalay’s counterpart, it seemed, meant absolutely nothing to almost all of them. The only differences were in Ojiro – who was now starting to breathe a little quicker, to sweat a great deal worse and, by the way his skin had odd shadows on them, was being clung to even tighter by Hagakure – and the local version of Cementoss. Back home, his colleague had been more than capable of keeping himself from showing too much emotion when the time called for it. At the few Hero-related issues that Cementoss had been involved in, he had always kept a stoic disposition and barely showed anything at all. He was more expressive during relaxing times – lunch with the rest of the faculty had him often smiling and laughing – and when there wasn’t a villain around, he was well known for being jovial. But when things mattered, Ken knew how to act like the solid Pro Hero that he was. This version of his colleague didn’t have any of that. Instead, this Ken was literally sweating beads of cement that fell to the floor, beady black eyes darting around without stopping. Hardening puddles were already forming around his feet, leaving physical testaments to his anxiety. “What the hell is a Vidame?!” Aizawa used his interrogative tone on the gray man standing nearby but stopped shy of using his quirk to make his eyes glow; he honestly didn’t think it was necessary. Ken immediately flinched. “I don’t… I don’t really know all the different bureaucratic levels or titles… I didn’t think it was worth the risk to ask…!” “Lowest level of nobility.” Tenya suddenly said, aiming an intense glare at them both. Then, one arm started to chop in the air and the familiarity of it somehow ached. “They’re not supposed to be doing anything important or even supposed to be anywhere close to one of these facilities! It doesn’t make sense that he’s even here!” “Did that lady just say a pickup is going down?” Himiko said with a wide-eyed shake of her head that bordered on the theatrical. “A pickup for what?” “Is this about the Tifari?” Shota asked with a small frown aimed at Ken. “The Tifari?!” Both Himiko and Tenya yelped at the same time. “He was here a few days ago.” Ken was still sweating, eyes still darting nervously around them. Was he afraid that they were about to turn on him? Now, why would he be thinking that? Was it strictly an automatic flight-or-fight response or something more? “The Vidame. I didn’t know anything about the whole other universe thing at the time, I didn’t even understand the questions, but then he said he wanted to take Ojiro for –” “For the Tifari?!” Himiko repeated with the same amount of shock. “The hell?!” “Meat from another universe…” Tenya groaned. Then, he glanced to the blonde at his side. “Do you suppose this has to do with the Queen’s Feast?” “Shit, maybe.” Himiko frowned. “Wait, no, word came in a couple days ago that the bastards already filled that in.” “The Queen’s Feast?” Aizawa could feel the start of a headache coming on. “Short version, straight up, is that the Tifari is a holiday the bastards have where they eat a whole lot of meat to celebrate a new cycle. Big feast, super fancy.” Himiko stared right at him, golden eyes boring deep. “Whoever’s currently ruling gets a super fancied up plate just for them with the most top tier human meat on it. They got a Queen right now, but she’s always had her meat served raw and still alive.” A few gasps came from around them; she nodded rapidly, agreeing with the horror. “Yeah, I know!” “Then isn’t it stupidly obvious what we’re gonna do?” Hawks asked with a confused frown. “We’re fighting this Vidame thing off, aren’t we?” “That’s just going to call an army.” Tenya winced. “A Vidame is constantly reporting in –” “It just had to be the lowest stupid rank!” Himiko rubbed her face. “Those positions are only filled in through friggen’ nepotism, always a brat of someone with a higher rank. Whoever’s coming here is probably reporting to Baroness mommy or Duke daddy every five minutes! Hell, this whole thing is probably because the jerk wanted to make a name for himself with the other stupid nobles!” “If you fight him and you don’t kill him, he’s going to call it in.” Tenya said with a wince. “If you fight him and you do kill him, he won’t be able to report in and they could send an army here within an hour.” Aizawa took a deep breath; he glanced to Ojiro. The boy hadn’t moved at all during this entire rapid conversation, but his tail was now flat on the floor, end twitching with the same anxiety he had seen during exams. Hagakure was still clinging to him. He looked to Himiko. “Can you use your quirk with the Vidame’s blood?” For a moment, the girl looked surprised. “Huh. You do know another me. But… No.” Her tone turned quiet. “Trust me, I’ve tried, but they’re not human.” She glanced downwards; she looked ashamed. “Wish it worked, though.” Tenya looked towards her with concern and set a hand on her shoulder. She looked up and gave him a small, sad smile. “Uhm… Excuse me?” A quiet voice came from the crowd of teenagers in the hall. Aizawa turned quickly to find a version of Shinso standing there – and how many people with familiar faces were in this building?! – bearing the same tired exhaustion in his eyes as the student a universe away. “I have a mind controlling quirk.” This version of Hitoshi rubbed the back of his neck. “If I can get this Vidame monster to talk to me, maybe…?” “Nice try, but those don’t work either.” Himiko said with a very long sigh; the sad smile was still there, now aimed at the purple-haired teenager. “Same issue. Not human. Their brains are all funky.” “And the last time he was here, he had bodyguards.” Ken said quietly. Hitoshi seemed to deflate. Then, two hands from two different people came from around him; a version of Shiozaki and Monoma were at either side, giving him comforting looks. Then, Aizawa realized, that bonds had been formed in this place. If they decided to take the fight to the demons and even one of these children decided to fight alongside them, the rest would all follow; a domino effect of misplaced courage. It would be less a fight and more a slaughter. None of these kids were trained, not all of them could possibly make it out unscathed… “Can we hold him off, then?” That came, surprisingly, from Compress. “Until everyone here can have their implants deactivated and taken back to our world?” Aizawa blinked in surprise – a villain was suggesting this? – but turned to Mandalay. “How long would that take?” “Oh, god. Hours.” The Pussycat shook her head. Mandalay was still holding the device on a young girl’s chest; she had been holding it there for nearly a solid minute. It had yet to beep. “And, honestly, I don’t know if they can be remotely reactivated if they figure out what we’re doing.” “Why can’t I make a copy of the kid?!” Twice piped up. “If that’s the whole problem, if the jerk’s here for the kid, we can give him a fake! He’ll see right through it!” “Do they kill people, here?” Compress looked to Ken. “Specifically, here, at this facility?” Ken blinked a few times at Twice, visibly confused by his manner of speaking, but then gave a slow nod to Compress. “Yes. Frequently. It’s mostly why we even have a clearing in front of the main doors to begin with. But he can make copies of people?” “Copies that turn in to sludge when they take too much damage…” Spinner winced. “Oh, then that will absolutely get us all killed.” Himiko said faintly. “We give them a fake that doesn’t even leave a corpse, oooh, boy.” “What if we just… Give him someone else?” For a moment, Aizawa thought that it came from Ojiro; it was the same voice, the same quiet tone. When he turned, though, he found himself staring at the teenagers’ local-universe lookalike. Mashirao looked at the floor with a faint blush on his face. “Like hell!” Katsuki sputtered; he grabbed hold of his friends’ arm. “What the fuck?! Are you nuts?!” “I just thought –” Mashirao winced but didn’t look at the fiery blonde or any of the other similarly startled teenagers around him. “What is the matter with you?!” Katsuki yelped again, fear and rage both mixing in his face. “Absolutely not.” Aizawa decided not to look at Katsuki and instead focused his gaze on Mashirao. Goddamn, but these kids were going to need therapy. “That’s still sacrificing someone and that is not happening.” “And he’d probably check the numbers anyway.” Ken added, still sweating. “The Vidame knows there’s two of you. You were both there.” “Can we tell him that he’s already dead?” This universe’s Monoma asked loudly. “I mean, we already lost a few –” “The last pickup truck was a few hours ago.” Ken closed his eyes and shook his head. “That will buy us, at best, a half hour while they check.” “Then where does that leave us?” Edgeshot asked with clear worry. “If we can’t fight them off and we can’t kill them and we can’t give them a duplicate…?” Silence fell. No one had any answers. Back home, a similar situation would have been met with either local police or military. A group of villains holding either innocent civilians or a Pro Hero hostage, assuming they also had a teleportation quirk for an easy escape with said hostage, it would have been simply a matter of covering as much ground as possible and keeping the hostages from being taken to that second location. The villains would be a secondary; save the target, ignore all else. Aizawa had written exam questions about this very same topic. After the Kamino incident, it had become all the more important to know. But this wasn’t back home; there was no army, no officers, no way to separate this demon away from the innocent target that they were after. The longer time went on, the more likely that this Vidame would figure out that something was off and, at this point, they had already spent ten of their twenty minutes trying to figure out what to do and being no better off for it. Even if they opened a portal with hopes of using it to make a call for additional support and used the second one as the entry, they would still be stuck here for three days afterwards with possibly hundreds of innocents with implants in their chests that could go off at any time, assuming Mandalay’s theory about reactivation was on point. The only feasible option, the only thing that would maximize survival and limit casualties – “There’s no other way, is there?” The silence was broken by a soft voice. “They have to get what they want.” At first, Aizawa turned to this universe’s Mashirao, but found surprise on his face. Then, he looked to Ojiro, still on the floor and still clinging to Hagakure. “What?” The invisible girl gasped in his arms. “Absolutely not.” For a moment, Aizawa couldn’t believe what he was hearing, even if he had begun to think of it himself. “We can leave right now, your implant was –” “There’s no other way, though.” Slowly, Ojiro got to his feet, letting Hagakure go as he stood. “Ojiro…!” She was back up quickly enough; a gloved hand grabbed the tailed boy’s arms. “You can’t just…!” The change came quick and dramatic; one moment, Ojiro seemed faint and pale, voice low and barely above a whisper. The moment Hagakure grabbed his arm, he turned, eyes shooting wide and a red flush coming over him. The boy made a valiant effort to find the invisible girl’s face, eyes twitching indecisively, but, after a brief second, aimed his gaze at her general direction. “If that demon doesn’t get what he came here for, everyone here is going to die!” “So you’re just going to give yourself up?!” Hagakure literally wailed the words, a fresh flow of tears appearing in the air. “You know that he’s going to kill you, right?” Himiko said with wide-eyed shock. “We came here for you!” Hagakure’s gloves wrapped themselves around Ojiro’s face. “I came here for you!” “I know!” Ojiro’s face was only getting redder as his voice climbed in volume. “Don’t you think I know that?! We don’t have any other choice!” “Ojiro –” Aizawa tried. The boy pulled himself out of Hagakure’s grip and turned so sharply that his tail nearly hit her. Instead, it wound up over its’ owners’ shoulder, but the end of it continued to twitch anxiously. “Sensei, we’re just wasting time –” “You’re not going to pull some stupid self-sacrifice!” Aizawa hissed. “We’ll find another way other than you getting yourself killed!” Ojiro stared at him, brows furrowed, tail still twitching. He still didn’t have a shirt on. The angry red scar on his chest and the numbers on his neck – both forced on him after being kidnapped in to a dystopian alternate reality – were loud signs of the failure of every adult that had been present at U.A. Aizawa stared at this boy, who had by anyone’s definition suffered more than enough over the past month and a half, and who knows what else happened in that time that hadn’t yet been told. Aizawa felt the sting of that failure – of every horrible, stupid decision and non-decision that had been made since the start of this school year that led to this moment, to this suffering that should not have happened if he had just done his job right – and he would not fail again. Not here, not like this. “We came here with a group of Pros for a reason. We’ll hold them off while the rest of you get home.” “The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.” Aizawa stopped. He stared at Ojiro, squinting suspiciously. Oh, this little shit. “You can’t –" “You told us that.” Ojiro gulped loudly. “Before midterms, remember? That when there’s too many victims from a villain attack, that we have to focus on getting as many people out instead of who we think is most important. That saving a dozen civilians is better than one Pro Hero, because that’s the job. That’s what we signed up for, that’s what you were training us for!” Son of a bitch. Aizawa grit his teeth and almost had the words out. Almost. “I know this isn’t like any of the situations you prepared us for,” Ojiro’s eyes were brimming and he began to blink rapidly to hold the tears back. “This isn’t like the Water Hose situation or what happened with Crimson Riot or… Or All Might, or any of that! But if there’s no other option and no other way, this is the only thing that makes sense and I’m ready for it!” There came another round of silence. A blazing heat began to churn in Aizawa’s gut. On one level, a traitorous part of his mind actually agreed; if it had been himself at the center of this, if his own life would save the hundreds here, he knew that he would be making the exact same decision that this boy was making. But this wasn’t him, this wasn’t a Pro Hero who had years of experience under their belt, this was a sixteen-year-old boy who shouldn’t even be here! A single beep echoed through the hall. Someone’s implant had been deactivated. It snapped them all out of it. “There’s no time…!” Ojiro gasped. Aizawa glared at him; he felt his own fists clench at his side before he became aware of it. “Dammit…!” “If you’re going, then I’m going with you!” Hagakure still wept, but her voice was almost stable. “Wha – No!” Ojiro turned to stare at her. “You’re not dying with me!” “They can’t even see me, I’ll take everything off…!” Hagakure whined, voice cracking. “They… For all we know, they could smell you!” Ojiro shook his head. “Or have something else, a quirk that they took from someone –” “Don’t you dare, Hagakure.” Aizawa felt something cold and hard in his gut; this time, his eyes did glow as he stared at her. It didn’t do anything, of course. “Don’t.” The invisible girl stopped. Her sneakers shifted slightly, but she offered no further argument. If anything, her hands slowly dropped in visible surrender. Ojiro let out a visible breath of relief but otherwise didn't look at Hagakure again. “Ojiro… He…” Ken took in a breath as he looked to the boy at the center of all of this. “Last time, he specifically asked you to be dressed.” He glanced very quickly to Mashirao. “Your room’s right here, you’re the same size, he’ll –” Mashirao, who stood as quiet, as pale and as horrified as everyone else in this hall, gave a nod. With a sudden lurch, Ojiro pulled himself entirely out of Hagakure’s grasp, jaw tight. A single slow blink finally released the tears he had been holding back and he moved with visible unease, forcing himself along with harsh strides towards the nearby open room. Hagakure let out a sob but made no move to follow. No one else said or did anything at all. Even the villains were quiet. Aizawa found his fists clenching at his sides. They had come so far, had gotten so far, had travelled in to a godforsaken alternate universe and it had all come down to timing! If that demon had decided to show up in an hour, or another day, or… Anything at all… If wishes were horses, beggars would ride. But it still hurt. He wanted to punch something. There were walls all around, he could and he doubted anyone old enough to drink would think of him badly for it, but… There were still other children here. Still a mass of teenagers who looked to him and to all of the adults here now. Dammit. How the hell did it end up like this?! Ojiro didn’t take long. He was back out in less than a minute, wearing a bland v-neck that barely covered the scar. All the other teenagers in the halls wore something similar and it occurred to Aizawa then that even their uniform looked like something out of a young adult-aimed dystopian film. Hagakure let out a fresh squeak. Despite her quirk, she was visibly shaking when she walked up to him; there was a fresh kiss, but it wasn’t nearly as long or as joyful as the first. Ojiro shoved something in to her hands. Hagakure let out a long whimper. “They might be able to use it or reverse-engineer it or something.” Ojiro said quickly, words tumbling out in a rush. “Please, just… Take it.” It was his phone. Gloved hands held it close. A sob left the invisible girl. “Wait.” Himiko suddenly piped up. She walked up to the pair and grabbed hold of his hands. She cupped them in her own and said nothing. Tenya joined her, setting a hand on Ojiro’s shoulder, similarly as quiet. Aizawa stared; it was a moment of comfort between strangers. It was, much to his chagrin, the most any of them could offer now. “Thanks.” Ojiro’s voice was hoarse. “He’s heading in now.” The telepathic message sounded flat and depressed. “Ken, he’s outside. I told him that you’re on the way.” The gray block of man took a deep breath to steady himself. He then turned to look to Ojiro. The boy was stiff, eyes clenched shut and mouth thin. Still, he gave a nod before following. The sea of teenagers parted like the ocean, completely silent. Some of them reached out without touching, as if the boy was a messiah passing through. It was only when they were both entirely out of sight did Hagakure let out a loud, mournful wail.---------------------
*
He wanted to go home.
*
-------------------- “You’ve been alive this whole time…?” The snarled question came seemingly out of the blue, breaking the heavy silence that had overtaken the hallway over the past few minutes. All eyes turned – including Aizawa’s own – to stare at a spikey-haired blonde whose expression glared death at someone standing five meters away. Katsuki’s hands weren’t sparking, but his eyes carried a promise of severe pain. Quite a few people backed away at the sight. The target of his ire frowned at him before turning his gaze to the floor. “…Yes.” Tenya said after a brief couple of seconds. Still reeling in a helpless rage of his own, Aizawa stared at the scene as it unfolded; Katsuki began to take slow, shaky steps towards the taller, blue-haired teenager. “Kacchan…” Mei whimpered. “This isn’t the time for a fight.” Aizawa tried to warn them, but even he didn’t feel the strength of it. He should have noticed that the reunion hadn’t occurred before. When everyone was laughing and crying at this rescue, that these two long-lost siblings/friends/whatever-their-dynamic-was, that they had only stared at each other from a distance apart. He should have noticed that this was wrong. Too many details had been missed today. “You’ve been alive this whole time!” Katsuki said it louder this time; he stopped within punching distance. “How the hell are you alive?!” “Sensei, our sensei, he…” Tenya glanced quickly over to Shota – who also hadn’t moved since this began – before looking back to Katsuki. “He sent me to one of these caretaker training sites. The resistance attacked the car I was in and got me out.” “And you’ve been with this stupid resistance this whole time?!” Katsuki stared at him, a mania in his eyes. “You didn’t even try to –” “I was twelve years old.” Tenya’s words were even tempered, but he looked ashamed. “I was twelve.” “You’re not twelve now!” Katsuki’s hands now began to have an odor. “Did you know that we were dying?!” “Of course I knew.” Still, Tenya was forcing himself not to yell, though he had begun to shake. “I learned about everything after they got me out, that our house was a farm, I learned about all of that.” For a moment, Katsuki reeled back, as if this revelation was a surprise. “Then why the hell didn’t you come back for us?!” “Because it wouldn’t have made a difference!” Finally, Tenya’s voice broke, pitching in to a sudden solid boom. “Tenya…!” Himiko looked up to him with worry. “Wouldn’t’ve… It wouldn’t…” Katsuki repeated with a crackling, audible rage. “What the fuck, why wouldn’t it have mattered?! Do you remember Fumikage, the kid with a bird head, quiet loner that liked weird shit?! Slept in a bat-winged coffin he made himself because, fuck, I don’t even know, he just did, we found out this whole thing was going on when we found his body! Every other fucking kid that ever left ended up the same way, didn’t they?! Except for you! You got out, you walked off and decided to leave us all without us ever knowing a goddamn thing! And you don’t think it would have made a difference?!” Silence fell for a few seconds. Tenya took a deep breath. When he spoke again, it was again with a forced even tone. “Do you know what happened after our Sensei’s farm vanished? When suddenly more than fifty kids labelled as ‘high quality meat’ were suddenly no longer available?” Katsuki stared at him. They all stared at him. “Suddenly, other farms had to supply it. You got out, but someone else died instead. It’s…” Tenya’s voice cracked. “It’s like that game we used to play whenever it rained. Musical chairs? We all walked around the chairs, but there was just one too few, and when the music stopped, there was one person left that couldn’t play anymore.” “I hated that game.” Katsuki responded with a snarl; the smell started to dissipate. “It wouldn’t have mattered if I came after you, even if I could have gotten everyone out.” Tenya looked to the floor. “I’m sorry I couldn’t, but I couldn’t doom some other kid in some other farm out of… Out of greed! All I’d be doing was rearranging the victims! Do you understand what I’m saying?” Katsuki had backed away a couple of steps. The edges of his eyes were strained, shocked and haunted. He understood. “I’m sorry.” Tenya’s tone was softer, this time. “I didn’t…” A breath. “We’ve been fighting them. We don’t really have an organized name, we’re just a ‘resistance’, but we’ve been –” He paused, as if suddenly remembering something. “Do you remember Izuku?” “What?” Katsuki looked up sharply. “He was shipped out when we were five.” Tenya frowned uneasily. “He had green hair, I think he had a habit of mumbling to himself –” “I remember Deku, you piece of shit!” Katsuki hissed. “He died ten years ago! I remember watching him leave!” “We think he’s still alive.” Tenya briefly glanced at the other teenagers from Shota’s farm before looking back to Katsuki. “That’s why we came here, the database here is connected to several others. But we believe they send all the quirkless kids somewhere else. We’re pretty sure that Izuku is still alive.” Katsuki stared at him with eyes wide from shock. Then, sharply, he whirled to look behind him, gaze darting until he found his desired target. Shota stood there, quiet and visibly stunned. Slowly, he gave the fiery blonde a nod. “They did take him alive. Sometimes, they do that. I never asked why.” Katsuki’s eyes twitched at the confirmation. He turned back to Tenya and opened his mouth to say something. He didn’t get the chance. Suddenly, Aizawa felt something foreign slip over his mind and, by the sharply pained looks on the faces around him, he wasn’t the only one. It came quick, a brief panic-filled ache. “Everyone? I really hate to interrupt.” Then, Aizawa realized that it must have been a telepathic emotion, Mandalay sending out her quirk without any words. He hoped that’s what it was, at any rate. “But I think… I think we really messed up.” “Oh, god, what does that even mean?” Hawks asked with a nervous tinge. “The good news, if we’re calling it that, Ojiro was taken alive. The bad news is, the Vidame mentioned the Queen’s Feast. Who was it that offered a living duplicate?” “Aw, crap.” Twice groaned. “I could’ve done that! Better I didn’t probably.” “He’s still alive?!” Hagakure jumped up. “Can we get him back?!” “Shit.” Himiko said with a deep sigh. “Okay, the guys at base camp’ll have more information on this, unless you could use the same way you found this place to begin with?” “We were using the tracking device in his body, actually.” Aizawa felt a pit in his stomach as he gestured to Mashirao. They could have taken the risk and avoided all of this by using one of Twice’s duplicates. They wouldn’t have had to sacrifice Ojiro at all. But if they had been wrong – if it had gone the other way – where would they be right now? Aizawa felt very much like swearing aloud for a very long time. Or maybe screaming in to a pillow. “Then I guess back at base it is.” Himiko rubbed her face with both hands. “They’re gonna be so mad.” “Wouldn’t be the first time we came in with some additional people.” Tenya offered a nervous smile at the girl. “I mean, sure, but this is still so bonkers.” The blonde sighed. A sudden series of beeps went through the air. It carried the same pitch and tone as the device that disabled the implants, only sped up, repeating itself and somehow sounding upset. Everyone turned to stare at Mandalay. She stood there, holding the disabling device in her hands; her eyes were wide and horrified. “I’m getting an error message.” “Are you kidding me.” It was not a question and it came from, of all people, Spinner. “Hold up, maybe I can fix it!” Mei pushed herself out from the crowd to get to Mandalay’s side. From a pocket, she pulled out a series of screwdrivers held together on a keyring. “Give me five minutes!” Then, she sat on the floor, beeping device in her hands. Now, all eyes were on the pink-haired girl as she performed the simple task of screwing off the back panel. It felt like a very long few seconds before she pried apart the metal; it barely held together with red and blue wires. Mei peered inside of the machine for a long moment. When she spoke, it came with a deep frown. “The battery’s melted. In the other universe, we could probably order a replacement in, but here…” “Shit.” Pixie Bob rubbed her face. “What now?” They had a plan for this. This was exactly what the contingency plan was for. Aizawa turned to stare at the villains. Compress still had his mask on but shifted in place and tilted his head in a way to indicate nervousness. “How many people still have active implants?” “One hundred and sixty-seven.” Mandalay’s counterpart sent to them all. “The third years and up, fourty-eight in total, are still in their rooms. Ken’s already on the way to wake them up.” The masked villain shifted in place again. “There’s an unfortunate… Limit to my ability.” Aizawa winced, but he had figured as much; there were strictly very few quirks that didn’t have some kind of limitation to them. “How many can you place in your orbs?” A beat of silence passed. “Twenty-five or so. After roughly a dozen, I begin to get ill and it gets progressively worse the more people or objects I use my quirk on.” Compress shifted in place again. “The most I’ve ever successfully done at one time was twenty-nine.” The tension in the air was immediate. There were more than twenty-five teenagers with active implants in this hall alone. An entire horde of young adults in a narrow corridor with only each other standing in the way of safety and salvation? Aizawa saw the others slowly look to the mob around them before he turned to look for himself. He braced himself for the carnage to start, for these dozens of young men and women to realize that they couldn’t all be saved and to immediately panic as a direct result. There was the expectation, at the very least, for arguments and verbal infighting to immediately break out, for teenage squabbles and juvenile emotions to turn vicious. It didn’t take much for moody, hormonal children with quirks layered on top of that to break out in to fights back home, and that was without the added specter of literal death hanging overhead. Both hero and villain alike were visibly preparing themselves as well. Edgeshot hadn’t thinned out, but he had gone stiff in anticipation of a potential fight. Hawks’ wings were just a little bit higher than usual. Twice was rapidly looking back and forth down both ends of the hall. Spinner had his hand on the hilt of his sword. Each of them ready for a brawl. It didn’t happen. “You should go.” Neito Monoma’s lookalike said it a little too loud. He was looking at a girl with long, green thorned hair that was similarly as familiar. “What?” Ibara gasped from sheer shock. “If anyone should get out of here, it should be the people that can give them the most hell, right?” Neito offered a cocksure smile. “Your thorns are incredible. I’ve seen you use them, you can cause some real damage.” “What?!” Ibara gasped again. “Why are you… What…” “He’s right.” A taller, bulkier teen – and it took a moment to recognize his counterpart from the license exam, the boy that could control the wind – had a sad, but calm smile on his face. “If they can’t get us all out, I’d be happy if they can at least get the best of us.” The words appeared to ripple through the rest of them. Instead of the arguments and the sheer fight for survival, thoughtful expressions and glances around were made instead. Teenagers barely old enough to make rational decisions were quietly discussing amongst themselves who should live and who should die. Aizawa stared at them all in stunned disbelief. “…Huh.” Spinner was the first to make a sound from the adults as he let go of his sword. “This is… Horribly wrong.” Edgeshot said, barely above a whisper. “How is that we can do absolutely nothing about this?” “That kid sacrificed himself and still…” Pixie Bob winced. The conversations around them were, for the most part, entirely calm. A few young adults let out startled gasps or a cry here and there, but it seemed to be those that were being asked to survive. There was one argument deeper down the hall; a very small woman with large, glowing pink eyes was rapidly shaking her head, clinging to another, taller girl. “There’s no glory in this.” Compress’s words came faint. “What?” Twice blinked at him. “There’s no glory in this.” Compress said again, this time with less shock. “These kids are willing to die to save someone else with absolutely nothing to gain. The false heroes in our world, they… They at least expect the fame and money that their family would get, but this?” He shook his head. Then, one hand reached up to take off his mask; glaring red scars of his own were on his face. “This is just… Heroic.” Briefly, Aizawa wondered if he had been keeping his mask on out of sheer vanity. “Are you saying,” Spinner stared at his fellow villain, confused and highly skeptical. “That these kids are the kinds of real heroes Stain was talking about?” “There’s no glory in this.” Came, for the third time, from Compress. Then, he turned to Twice. “Are you still limited to two duplicates?” “Yup.” Twice gave a slow nod as he pulled out his measuring tape. Apparently, he was immediately on board with no questions asked. “Sure. Okay, two copies coming right up! This is gonna be a mess!” This was honestly a surprise; Aizawa blinked at the villains for a moment. This was beyond anything he could have possibly expected from them. “This brings it up to seventy-five or so?” “I… Think?” Without his mask, Mr. Compress was more expressive; the edges of his mouth stretched in to a long, uneasy frown. “I get physically ill the more I use my quirk, I don’t actually know how many the copies would be able to make with their additional limitations. But it’s better than before.” It was only a few seconds before the sludge that appeared from Twice’s quirk spiraled and formed in to two new bodies. Thankfully, the clothes materialized at the same time as the flesh and bones; it all came together until two new versions of Compress, each with their own masks off and identical scars, stood there. They blinked in unison before giving identical nods to their original. “Hey, uh, this is gonna sound weird,” Himiko suddenly piped up, edging closer to the villains; she batted wide eyes up at Mr. Compress. “But can I stab you and drink your blood? I mean, we probably still won’t be able to do this whatever on everybody, but –” Compress looked down at her; he smiled. “Have at it.” Himiko let out a delighted squeal. Then, she pulled a long, serrated blade from a hidden sheath. The smile on Compress’s face immediately faded in to a much more nervous look. Still, after a few seconds more, there were then four of him standing there. It still wouldn’t be enough. They would still fall more than fifty short of saving them all. Nevertheless, flashes of light began to fill the room as teenagers shrank down in to marbles.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Things went wrong sooner rather than later. But at least this time, they had known that it would. “Woah.” Himiko-as-Compress giggled hysterically – an odd thing to see and hear, given who she was currently using her quirk on – and wobbled unsteadily on her feet. “You weren’t kidding about feeling sick. The dizziness was one thing, but, damn…” “Hit the stomach cramps, have we?” The real Compress said with a pained but sympathetic smile; his face had started to have a green tint to it more than five minutes before, somewhere around the dozen-marbled count. “Sad to say that it gets progressively worse from here.” “Oh, that’s,” Himiko wheezed. “That’s good to know. Yeah.” Technically, they weren’t in any real hurry. Now that the danger of the Vidame had gone and there was no enemy combatant around to call in reinforcements, the four versions of Mr. Compress could theoretically take their time putting all of the remaining young adults in to the marbles. It was, perhaps, better if they did. Especially as the number of people that they had to orb away continued to grow. Ken came back down after a half hour or so – Aizawa, personally, didn’t bother to keep track, not after Ojiro had left, still feeling the fresh fire in his gut that reminded him of this failure – and had brought with him the older teenagers that had been stuck in this hellish place. Some of them, he knew, must have been here for years. They each looked thoroughly exhausted – some wiped at their eyes and heavy bags were visible on many faces – but there were no complaints. They didn’t even dare to whisper amongst themselves, but some of them had a disturbing deadness to their eyes and a thorough lack of emotion. Ken must have explained why they had been woken up, that this was a rescue, and yet… This place did things to people. Aizawa had seen these faces before, on kidnapping victims rescued after extended captivity. The lights had all gone out and it would take a very long time for them to come back on. With these near-grown people, though, came the only other adults that had been in this building. They had known that a version of Mandalay was here; she showed up with long hair pulled back in to a neat braid and wearing a floor-length nightgown that looked centuries out of date. The Ragdoll lookalike, though, identical to her other self besides her clothes, had the Pro Heroes present looking startled for just a moment. With them, supposedly the last of the ones allowed to grow up, was a man who was perhaps in his late 30’s with neatly groomed brown hair and bright, neon yellow eyes that might have hinted at some kind of quirk. Aizawa had absolutely no idea who the man was. He was somehow relieved that there existed people here that weren’t deeply familiar. “So what happens now?” Ken asked as he walked towards him. “How is this going to work? How do we go to your universe?” The bubbling rage was still present, but it wouldn’t be fair to aim it at anyone here; Aizawa squashed it down the same way he typically did before talking to newly arrived police officers after a villain takedown. Squash it down to deal with later. “We make a portal. We have a machine that can do so. Everyone that’s already had their implant deactivated should be able to walk right through it without any issues.” “Should?” Ken frowned. “I guess you wouldn’t be able to test it. And, uh, are we going to your universe by ourselves or…?” That was actually a reasonable question. Aizawa glanced back to the other Pro Heroes and villains – all of which had settled for watching and waiting – before his eyes fell upon the small group of teenagers that had followed them in to this mess. “You’re going with them.” Aizawa stared at his young targets. “Like hell.” Came from Katsuki, heavy with exhaustion. “After all that shit we just heard? We’re going with the blue bastard.” Tenya did not look the least bit insulted. “You have not changed at all.” Katsuki shot the taller teenager a quick glare before scowling back at him. The blonde even squared himself, as if readying for a physical confrontation. Aizawa pinched the bridge of his nose; he did not want to deal with an altercation with a stubborn teenager about his own goddamn safety. “It isn’t safe for you here –” “I was born in this stupid universe!” Katsuki glared. “This is my… Homeland!” He paused, that last word awkward; it had not been the one that he had wanted to use. Still, he pressed on. “I’m not leaving!” “I’ll go.” Mei suddenly piped up. That caused Katsuki to completely deflate. “What?!” Mei rolled her eyes, as if the other teen was missing something obvious. “Mashirao has to leave anyway, and someone has to let the others know what’s going down.” “I do?” Mashirao asked with a heavy, still shell-shocked frown. “Why can’t I stay with everyone here?” Mei whirled towards him so sharply that her curls flew. “Did you forget that you have an implant in your chest that could still go off?!” Mashirao paused for just a moment. “…Oh. But –” “Hell, Hanta, you should come with us.” Mei pointed at the teenager in question. “I what?” The lanky boy that had spent the better part of this entire trip terrified out of his mind and jumping at every noise looked incredibly startled at the sudden attention. Mei made another theatrical roll of her eyes. “I can’t be in two places at once, and if Mashirao has to, oh, I don’t know, have immediate surgery to get the implant out, he might want to have someone there when he wakes up. I can’t be both there and with the others at the school dorm.” It took far too long, but Aizawa understood what she was doing. He felt a swell of pride in his chest and settled for watching her maneuver her friends in to safety. “Oh…!” Relief spread across Hanta’s face and he grabbed on to the excuse. “Yeah, sure, not a problem.” Next to them, Katsuki fumed but said nothing. “Ochaco, Kyoka,” Mei looked to the girls with a much more gentler disposition. “If you two want to come, too, no one’s going to –” “I’m staying.” Kyoka said sternly. “I think I’m staying here for a while, too.” Ochaco gave a much more uneasy nod. “For now, I guess.” Mei didn’t raise an argument and Aizawa saw the wisdom in it; sometimes, you had to pick your fights, and those two didn’t look ready to budge. Still, she slowly turned towards the last of the stowaways. “Hagakure –” “I’m not leaving.” The invisible girl said with a deep, uncharacteristic snarl. “Okay.” Mei raised her hands and immediately backed away. On his end, Aizawa let out a small sigh. Mei had done a better job than he would have been able to do; if their own peer couldn’t convince them at this point, he would have little luck himself. A sudden chorus of gasps that came from further down the hall – where flashes of lights were going off to shrink children in to marbles – caught his attention. Aizawa whirled to find several people staring at one of the Compress copies with sheer alarm. “Huh.” The duplicate in question stared at his hand; the gloves were physically melting. “I do believe I’ve hit my limit.” “Same here, I think.” The other copy pulled off one of his own gloves; it splattered in to gray sludge along the floor. “This is… A very unusual feeling.” “How many were you able to get?” The first copy asked. “Nineteen.” The second frowned. “And yourself?”“Sixteen.” The first copy didn’t seem to like that result; a gaze was given to the people around him. “How…?”The second Compress gave a wry grin. “Perhaps I’m of better quality.”The first looked like he was both insulted and amused, mouth turning thin and barelyhinting in to a smile, as he turned to look at his mirror image. “…How dare you.”“This is really not the time for banter.” Aizawa out a sigh.“Ah! Of course.” The second Compress duplicate gave a bow. “Although, perhaps I can get one or two more –” “Don’t.” The real Mr. Compress said with a heavy, harsh breath. “I have the feeling that if you go down, everyone you compressed will reemerge and we’ll have to start all over.” “Woah,” Himiko stared at the man she currently looked like. “You don’t look good at all. How many you at?” “Twenty-eight.” Compress took in a deep, shaky breath. “I’m fine.” He stretched out his hand; a concerned-looking young man let out a bright glow before joining the collection of marbles in a pouch. “I can keep going.” “Shit, man…” Himiko let out a troubled whine. “What happens if you pass out?” “If I pass out, I pass out.” The villain gave a small shrug; teenagers had actually begun to move closer to them to let him grab them easier and a fresh flash of light went off. “They won’t release unless I will it. I’ve even compressed myself with other people compressed separately.” Aizawa couldn’t help but twitch, knowing exactly what he was talking about. “What happens if you die?” Himiko asked just a little dumbly, grabbing at people for herself. There came a pause. Mr. Compress took a moment to stare at her and didn’t seem to know how to answer the question. He ended up not having to; Himiko stumbled on nothing. Her eyes rolled unhealthily and the two Compress copies grabbed her arms to keep her from falling. “Wha…” “I think you hit your limit, too.” One of the copies let out a sigh. Himiko let out a loud whine. “There’s still way too many people, though…” “I’ll get them.” Compress said through grit teeth; his skin had turned a terrible shade of green and only seemed to be getting worse. There were still too many people. Earlier math had made the assumptions that the copies would be able to grab as many as the original; a quick basic headcount gave Aizawa a sum that totaled significantly over the fifty earlier estimated. That heavy pit in his gut had come back and it told him that whoever wasn’t rescued here and now would not get a second chance later. “You can stop, you know.” Hawks, it seemed, didn’t have that same voice in the back of his head. The winged Pro had walked to Compress’s side but not quite close enough to touch. “Take whoever you can now, get ‘em to a hospital and then come back for the rest.” “It would take too long.” Edgeshot, on the other hand, got it. “No hospital can perform a hundred surgeries fast enough.” Mandalay – their own – winced and gave a nod of agreement. “He’d have to do it in stages on the other side. A few released here and there until the hospitals kept up. That could take weeks.” Aizawa did not like what this was leading to. He turned to Ken. “How often is this facility checked in on?” “Typically? Annually at best.” Ken frowned deeply. “But we’ve had a Vidame visit us twice in a week. That, and we have meat pickups every couple of days and they’ve never left empty handed. We can stall them maybe once or twice, but they’d probably get suspicious if there’s nothing for too long.” “I can get this done…!” Compress said angrily; it was followed by a heavy, wet cough. “Can you, like, literally die from this?” Himiko stared at him. “I was kinda kidding before, but you really don’t look good.” There came another flash of light quickly followed by another. After that, Compress staggered, nearly losing his balance, but grabbed for yet another person standing nearby. He let out a deep hiss and his eyes looked both glazed over and slightly crazed. The twin Compress copies, still supporting Himiko, looked to each other; both of them looked disturbed. More flashes of light filled the air. “Shouldn’t we be stopping him?” Tenya asked, unsure. “He looks like he’s gonna puke.” Twice said with an animated clamp of his hands over his mask. “Also,” Edgeshot said quietly. “Did we discuss who’s going to go with him when we open the portal? Someone’s going to have to inform the hospital that this is hero work.” “We may as well go.” Their Mandalay said with a tilt of her head towards Pixie Bob. Then, once she had her fellow Pussycat’s attention, aimed a new rapid tilt towards her own lookalike and the doppelgänger of Ragdoll. “…Ah.” Pixie Bob responded with a look of understanding. “Yeah, okay.” Someone was going to have to figure out what to do with all of these people. None of the people from this place would have medical records, homes or families on file. The Pussycats were renown for search and rescue; if anyone could spin this in a way that the hospital personnel could understand, it would be them. Still, Aizawa cringed to himself; he still needed to stay here, in this universe. The mission that he came here to do wasn’t yet done but wasn’t completely dead in the water, either. It stung. A wet, wretched noise filled the air. “O-kay!” Himiko yelped. “You just threw up, you really should be stopping now!” “No.” Compress actually snarled. “This is wild.” Twice seemed to gape. “Never seen him like this before. He doesn’t even puke when he’s drunk!” From the side, a stunned-looking Spinner edged slowly towards Compress. He looked alarmed. “Why are you even trying so hard?” Compress aimed a glare so fierce towards the lizard-like man that Spinner physically recoiled and backed away. No one else tried to stop him after that, all of them some form of quiet and disturbed, as Compress grabbed for more young men and women. The flash of his quirk was vaguely reminiscent of the flashes of a camera and each one lit Atsuhiro Sako’s face as he pressed on. Light green flesh turned paler with each blue flare and it looked, for all the world, like the life was being sucked out of him with each new marble added to the pile. Aizawa couldn’t help but wonder why. This was, by all accounts, the most heroic thing that this self-proclaimed villain had ever done – by any stretch of the imagination, this man was a villain – and no one would have thought any differently of him if he had stopped. They may have been disappointed, they may have continued to lump him in that particular negative category, but no one here would have forced him to keep doing this. He had no reason to save any of these people. There were roughly thirty people left when, deathly pale and barely standing on his own power, he vomited again. It came out red. Sako wheezed. His artificial hand rested against a wall. Legs visibly trembled beneath his bright yellow coat. The two Compress copies, still looking stunned and disturbed, let go of Himiko before walking to either side of him to help him stand. They needed to help him walk after six more people were compressed. Two more after that, and Sako needed the help of his own clones just to lift his hand. How he even maintained consciousness was anyone’s guess. There were still over two dozen people left. Everyone else in the hall maintained silence; there wasn’t much any of them could do other than watch. It was in that silence that footsteps could be heard, loud against the nothingness; Mandalay broke from the group of Pro Heroes, holding one of the supply pouches that they had brought with them from a universe away. From the bag, she pulled out a small shot glass with a sealed top. It looked like something homemade and cobbled together from kitchen supplies. Mandalay held it out to Compress, frowning uncomfortably. “Here. Take this.” “What…?” Sako slurred. “It gives me a boost when I need it.” Mandalay did not look him in the eyes; she grimaced instead and looked aside. “Just take it. And it takes a bit to kick in, just so you know.” Sako gaped at her. “Thank you.” One of the copies said in his stead before helping the original to both open and drink the contents. The change happened gradually over a couple of very long minutes; a little more life seemed to breathe itself in to Sako’s entire body, a flush barely coloring his face. His copies still helped him move, but energy visibly came back to him, if only a little. By the time he was done – far past the stated limits of his quirk –, both of his copies had to keep him from completely collapsing. Sweat dripped heavy from his brow and no one could ignore the thick red blood that marred the most recent pile of vomit. None of them really seemed to know what else to do about this situation and Aizawa himself even drew a blank. At one point, one of the Compress copies gave the assembled Pros a look that was sheer befuddlement. The portal to the other world opened without much fanfare or conversation. Mei left her device with Katsuki, gave him a hug, and – after Mandalay and Pixie Bob made sure the Compress quartet and the sudden late addition of Twice were through – led the rest of the newly rescued through the gate. It was quiet for a while after that.---------------------  The truth of the matter was that no one really thought the whole thing through. Maybe they had been a little impulsive about going back to their home universe – which still felt weird to think about – or about how the people in charge would react to some of their own suddenly vanishing. Somehow, someway, they had neglected to really think about the fact that Katsuki and his chosen few would be gone for days or possibly weeks without telling anyone about it. It wasn’t exactly a thing they could hide for very long. It probably didn’t help matters that this universe’s Tooru vanished at about the same time. Shoto still wasn’t sure if his initial reaction of pure embarrassment was the proper one or not. Really, with Katsuki gone, he was technically the one in charge of their family, so he should have been the one to think about these things. There was no formal hierarchy, not really, but over the years – and despite working for their sensei the entire time – everyone tended to trust his advice. His brothers and sisters all came to him. Fat lot of good it did in the end, though. So, when the teachers at U.A. yelled at them – Present Mic so much more louder than anyone else – for not telling anyone what had happened, he was just a little bit ashamed about being a giant idiot. “What were you thinking?!” Mic was very, very loud. A few of the others winced at his tone and volume alike. “Don’t you know that all you kids are safe here?!” “Did you think about the dangers when you made this decision?” Vlad King just looked annoyed, arms folded and a stern, paternal glare aimed at all of them. Well, all of the older kids; most of the little ones hadn’t known what had happened. Some of them still didn’t. “You do understand that your future is our priority, don’t you?” “Don’t you trust us?!” Present Mic looked insulted and a little teary-eyed. “I thought we were doing a good job!” Oh, for goodness sake. Shoto rolled his eyes; they were being a little bit over the top. “It’s not that…” “Oh?” Vlad King turned to look at him. “Why, then, did you all decide to keep secret that a bunch of you ran off to play rescue without a solid plan or barely a sense of direction in to a parallel universe with no backup?” “It’s the stupid Kamino thing all over again!” Mic wailed. A window might have actually cracked from that one. “They’re not going to get it.” That came from Mezo, who looked at him from a nearby couch. Despite the mask, he looked completely done with the conversation. “Get what?” Vlad raised a brow. Mezo stared at Vlad for a moment. “I don’t know how you treat families here, but we don’t leave our siblings behind.” Shoto couldn’t help but nod; this wasn’t a conversation the family usually had. They didn’t, on a regular basis, really talk about how they felt about each other. Probably because it felt like a given. “We’ve been together since we were born. It doesn't matter if we get adopted or what universe we’re in or any of that, we couldn’t just… Leave it to someone else. Mashirao’s our brother. It had to be us to get him back.” A murmur of agreement came from the seats around them. The two grownups only frowned. They had been together for their entire lives. They were closer than any blood-related siblings could ever be. Shoto would take that to his grave. Or to a demon’s stomach, however his life ended up going. Then, a very long few days later, Mei came back. Well, more accurately, a few nights later, Mei came back. Shoto probably wouldn’t have known until the next morning – none of them had portable phones or any sort of alarm system – if their new friends bearing some of their faces hadn’t knocked on all of their doors and woken them all up. Todoroki had been the one at his own door. The first question had been: How had they gotten in to the building that U.A. was letting them use? Weren’t the doors locked? Did everyone that live here have a skeleton key or something? The second question had been: What time was it? The clocks here all flashed numbers and the one next to his bed had 23:17 on it. That was just unnecessary math, as far as Shoto was concerned. What was wrong with a good, round clock that pointed at the time? Still, once Todoroki has told them, cryptically, that ‘Mei was on her way’, they were all up. By the time that their pink-haired sister finally did arrive, left at the front of their specific dorm building by Midnight, more than half of them were waiting in the living room. Everyone ten and under were still in bed; Shoto made that decision himself. Though, the extra crowding that came with the addition of 1-A, 1-B and a smattering of other people from U.A. didn’t help. They must have all kept in contact with those phones. He really had to look in to getting one. When Mei came in, she was unnaturally quiet. She also looked like she had crawled through a field and hadn’t bathed in days. Both of these things, Shoto realized, were likely literally what had occurred. He rushed to her side when she walked through the doors. She didn’t need the help to get to the sofa, he knew that, but she still gave him a little nod anyway. She didn’t smile, though, and that particular little bit made him worry. No one said anything, waiting with bated breath. The silence was deafening when it came from more than sixty people stuffed in to a single room. Mei didn’t say anything until she sat down. When she did, the words came unnaturally slow. “Mashirao’s in a hospital. I left Hanta with him, but Mashi’s behind a really long surgery queue, so he’s probably going to be there for a while. But he’s fine, he’s not in any health-related danger or anything.” The relief felt like a flood, but it didn’t last very long and didn’t hit everyone in the room. Shoto frowned as he went over the words that Mei had used. “What happened?” Mei was quiet for a moment. She was choosing her words very carefully. “A demon showed up and took Ojiro, but –” A few horrified gasps went around the room. “—but we think he’s still alive. Everyone else is still there, they’re going to try to get him back.” So it was only half of a success? Shoto winced. “So there’s still a chance.” Midoriya said aloud. “The Pros are still on it, there’s still a chance they’ll save him.” Mei shifted in place. “There’s a bit more. Uhm… We kind of stumbled across a resistance group.” “What?” Shoto boggled. “Seriously?” “A resistance?” Somehow, Mina, Ashido and Tooru all asked at the same time in an identical amazed tone. “Isn’t this a good thing?” Mezo looked like he was smiling under his mask. “They could help, couldn’t they?” Tsuyu let out a nod. “And it means someone back home is putting up a fight, kero.” It certainly opened up a whole new line of thought. They had assumed that no one was fighting the demons strictly because no one had ever come to get them out. Shoto frowned; what did it mean when other human beings left you to die? Did they know how the farms operated? Had they been left out of ignorance or out of lack of interest? “And… Uhm…” Mei took a deep breath. “Tenya’s apparently still alive. He’s with the resistance.” “What?!” That came from at least six people. “And Izuku, maybe, too.” Mei’s voice squeaked a little. “Okay, we need more details.” Tsuyu croaked above the startled gasps that went around the room and echoed against the walls. “What exactly happened?” The words came slowly from Mei, each part chosen with far more thought than was probably necessary, but she told them everything that had happened. By the end of it, everyone was completely stone quiet. A heaviness seemed to weigh everything down as they all took in what had happened over the past few days a universe away. “Huh.” Came, eventually, from Monoma of 1-B. “I was wondering if we’d come across more of, well, us.” Kendo had a frown on her face. “We might all exist somewhere there, but there’s no point in thinking too much about it unless and until someone finds them.” “How do we tell our parents about this?” Ibara looked spooked as she asked it. “Has… Has anyone told their parents about this?” Awkward glances went around the living room. Except for the obvious – Todoroki and Iida – it didn’t look like anyone had. “A resistance movement, though.” Mezo looked delighted; he leaned back against a couch, sitting on the floor, stretching his six arms as he sprawled. “A resistance…” Shoto shared an alarmed look with several of his siblings. “What…” Mina openly gaped. “Mezo, what, you wanna join them!? Go back?!” Mezo did not look the least bit ashamed. “Is it too bad a thing to consider?” “Uh, yes.” Mina stared. “We just escaped like a month ago! Escaped!” Mei let out a loud ‘hmm’. “It’d be a hell of a wasted opportunity if you joined up with them now, though.” “What?” Mezo blinked at her. “We’d be missing out on training.” Mei raised a brow and kept perfect eye contact with their mask-wearing brother. “Right now, we have an opportunity to spend as long as we want honing our quirks with the guidance of people with real combat experience. I think we all know we’re not half as good as we could be, so why waste it? Why go back so quick? We could spend a couple of years here, use the opportunities at our disposal, then, if we’re still up for it, go back.” Oh, Shoto loved it every time Mei pulled something like this; she was brilliant at convincing people to do what they didn’t want to do. He could see it on Mezo’s face; suspicion, but he was considering her words. After a few seconds, Mezo gave a nod. “Fair enough.” The relief in the room didn’t only come from his own siblings; he saw it in quite a few others as well. But a few of them – Shoto saw it on Tsuyu, on Momo and a few other faces – that they weren’t all dead set on staying nice and safe in this world. ---------------------  For a while, everything was pure chaos. So much so that neither of the Compress clones even noticed that Twice had been with them for several hours. It might have been coming through a portal in the middle of a busy city street covered with men and women stumbling home from work in the late evening through a portal, causing a brief panic amongst civilians, that distracted them. It might have been the real and original Mr. Compress, still vomiting blood across the ground. Some of it, at least, had to be attributed to the few that had been rescued that hadn’t needed to be put in to marbles, all of which had stopped to stare at the lights and people; some of them had burst in to tears. It didn’t particularly help that a couple of them had been recognized as, technically, students of U.A. Getting to the hospital was something of an ordeal after that. A random civilian’s phone had been used to call in an ambulance and a taxi. Mei had gone in the latter vehicle as the rest of them went in the first. From there, a solid fifteen minutes – too long, according to Pixie Bob – had been spent trying to explain to the nurses and doctors that met them what had happened and what needed to be done. The original Compress was easily decided to be first to be seen by medical personnel; with the sickness he clearly exhibited and an extremely simplified explanation to hospital staff from the Wild Wild Pussycats, the people in his orbs were put on a higher priority. The copies were stable; Compress, on the other hand, was still far too ill and needed to release the rescued as soon as he could. The rest of them – two clones, Himiko’s still-copied self, Twice and Mandalay – had been placed in to one of the hospital’s Hero Lounges. It was, by all accounts, a glorified waiting room. Pixie Bob had run off early on, saying something about needing to make calls. That was when the clones noticed Twice. “Have you been with us this entire time?” One of them sputtered. “Uh… Yeah.” Twice, despite the mask, looked embarrassed. “I panicked.” “You panicked?” The other duplicate sounded amused. “I didn’t know if I could keep you two up from a whole universe away!” Twice gave a heavy shrug. “It just kinda came to me while the real you was puking all over that if the portal thing closed, maybe you’d both go blip! It would’ve been no problem!” “So,” One of the clones frowned. “We just left Spinner alone with a large group of Pro Heroes in another universe.” Twice blinked a few times. “…Yes.” “He’ll be fine.” Mandalay said from a chair much further away. “If he doesn’t try anything, they’ll keep on getting along.” “If I may ask,” A duplicate frowned at her. “Why are you still here? With us, I mean.” Mandalay raised a brow. She then looked towards the last of their current group. The third Compress lookalike was by a large window. The glass pane went floor-to-ceiling and they were on an upper floor of the hospital overlooking the city. Himiko stood there, one palm on the glass, and had been staring outside for quite some time. “I don’t think she’s ever seen a city before…” Mandalay tried to say quietly. It wasn’t quiet enough. “I’ve read about them.” Himiko said softly from the window. “In books. When I was real little, before I knew about stuff, the thing I wanted to do after I got adopted was to go to a big city. See all the lights… Get clothes with colors in them…” She paused. “…It’s prettier than I thought it’d be. Like stars, but on the ground.” A moment of silence passed. No one moved from their seats. “But I guess it doesn’t matter.” Himiko’s hand fell from the glass, slow and hesitant. “I gotta go back as soon as I can.” Mandalay’s frown deepened. “You don’t have to.” “I think I gotta, though.” Himiko turned to look back at them and her face – still identical to Compress – showed the uneasiness and the fear. A teenage girl who had seen and done more than any teenager should. “That’s… My home. Back there, isn’t it? My world. I keep thinking about the other me, that you guys came from a whole other universe to save her… She’s gotta be real special. I wanna be like that, someone worth going after, you know?” The three present villains gave each other uneasy glances. Comforting people was significantly beyond their expertise. Mandalay, however, stood from her seat and took the few steps needed to get to Himiko’s side. In the teenagers’ current form, she was taller, but the Pussycat put a hand on her shoulder. “If that’s what you want to do… If you want to fight for your home… You have every right to do that.” Himiko straightened and took in a deep breath. “I want to build a city back home. A real one, just for real people, without numbers or white uniforms. Someplace nice.” “You know,” Mandalay offered her a smile. “You’re probably going to be stuck here for a few days. It was very brave of you, coming here without knowing anything about this place, a whole universe away, to help people. We could show you around the city. You could see it for real.” A shaky smile – still scared, but it was starting so settle – crossed Himiko’s face. She gave a rapid nod. “That’d be nice. Yeah. I’d really like that.” ----------------------  Ojiro thought that he knew, now, what it was like to be inside of a dollhouse. Or, maybe, it was more comparable to how particularly small house pets saw the world; everything was bigger than it should be and made for a much grander species in control of everything. He had left the caretaker facility fully expecting to die. Each step along the hall and out in to the driveway had felt both heavy and weightless all at once, the last steps that he thought he’d ever have. The demon that had met them out there – the same Vidame, at least as far as he could tell – had managed to look pleased and entirely too proud. At the time, Ojiro hadn’t bothered to say anything. What was the point of any final words now? The time for that had passed back with the others, back with Hagakure and Aizawa-sensei and, oh, how stupid he had been to not give them a message at least for his parents, would his mom even know what happened? Would they give him a funeral without a body? But then the demon hadn’t killed him. There had been a car waiting. A far too big vehicle sitting in that driveway with another demon waiting in the drivers’ seat. The car itself was shaped like a box and looked like the first automobiles from the history books, the kind people would stop to stare at when car shows sometimes came to the city. Ojiro had not died. They didn’t kill him. Not yet, at any rate; confused and feeling faint, the Vidame had said something about the Queen’s Feast and about a festival that wasn’t going to happen for a couple more weeks. Then, he had been ushered in to the car. A human-sized set of stairs had to be pulled out just so he could get in to it. Everything about the box-like vehicle was made for the demons, monsters three times his size. The only thing he could do was look out the window and, at his height, he barely managed that. Neither of the demons in the car tried to engage him in conversation, but he had the feeling that the Vidame, at least, was watching him like a hawk. It was at least an hour before they got anywhere. Ojiro didn’t dare to fall asleep, although the slow rumbling of the car and his own exhaustion both tempted him. The tall trees outside gave way to clearings – to real farms, with plowed lands and growing crops – and then, startingly, to suburbs. The houses were massive. At least, by standards that he was used to. They otherwise looked so ordinary, although the architecture felt alien and foreign, with streetlamps overhead barely illuminating the roof tiles, street signs and almost-normal-looking wooden doors. There were bits and pieces of familiarity here and there; one roof that looked like it came from a traditional Japanese home and, further down the street, what might have been a storefront, coated in advertisements, that had Greek-style columns supporting a canopy. There were even a spare few demons along the sidewalks that must have been ordinary citizens. Some of them even wore suits. Office workers heading home from work, maybe. It was all so… Mundane. It felt like a shock. Ojiro had never felt so small or so helpless. The car eventually pulled in to a particularly long driveway. It stopped soon after that and the door swung open. It was difficult to tell if this home was any bigger or smaller than the others, but there was a comparatively small fountain bubbling water in front of the door. It felt wealthy, somehow. Did demons have money? They must have some kind of currency. Were some demons wealthier than others? Was there a class system? Were all those kids dying on farms just a tiny little segment of this society, like the chickens and cows back home? Could these demons go to a local convenience store and pick up grilled human from the cashier? The front door opened; another demon stood there wearing a pink, frilled apron. Both the Vidame and this new – woman? – stared down at him. There wasn’t really anything he could do now. Still feeling distant and far away, Ojiro walked in to that front door. At this height, it all felt like something out of Alice in Wonderland. The apron-wearing demon ushered him along, the point-tip end of several claws hovering behind his back, but she didn’t say anything. At least, not until they eventually stopped at a door at the end of a very, very long hall. “Wait.” Her voice was rough, sounding like an elderly woman that had spent the better part of a century heavily smoking. She opened the door. A wild, high-pitched human scream came from the other side and movement flashed in front of him. Ojiro barely dodged the blade that suddenly came for his face. “This again…?” The demon sighed; the back end of a clawed hand pushed against whatever had just tried to attack them, sending a human form flying back inside the room. It crumpled to the floor with a loud thud, yelling again out of sheer frustration. Ojiro barely had the chance to fully digest what had just happened before he was nudged in to the room – much more gently than this other person had been – and the door shut behind him. It locked with a loud, heavy click. “Dammit!” The girl on the floor – and it was a human girl – didn’t get up. Instead, she just sat there, back to him, pushing long, frayed blonde strands aside. “Are you… Okay?” Ojiro sputtered. He very, very dimly remembered that someone had said that the demons had ‘someone else’ for the Queen’s Feast. Was this them? The poor soul who was going to die with him? “Wha?!” The girl jumped and whirled to look at him but stayed where she was. “Holy shit, you’re a person!” All at once, Ojiro stopped. He openly gaped at the girl on the floor. She had no numbers on her neck and she wore what looked too much like a school uniform. Golden eyed blinked at him. She squinted. “Hey… Don’t I know you?” Himiko Toga sat there. Ojiro began to wonder if maybe, maybe, that whatever god was out there was out to get him.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

They met on the roof at two in the morning. Back at the house, there hadn’t been a place like this. There hadn’t been some flat, cement-coated place to climb up to way up high where they could see the stars, both the real kind in the sky and the ones from the city around the walls. Back then, they had met wherever they could: in empty hallways, the playrooms, even the classroom if everything else hadn’t been private enough. Once in a while, they had even gone outside, but that had been risky with their sensei constantly watching them. But here, there were none of those risks. There were no ever-watching adults lurking around, there were no monsters under the bed; it was only them. “You’re late.” Mei said tiredly from the floor. She sat on a thin cotton picnic blanket that she had found in a closet. “Some of the little ones got up.” Shoto responded with the same deadpan air that Mei had given him. She glanced back at him, pink curls falling in such a way to reveal the bandage over where her left ear used to be. Their resident genius stared at him cold. Shoto raised a brow and folded his arms. Their staredown lasted all of five seconds.Then, both of them broke in to laughter, hers louder than his.“God, I can’t keep a serious face with you.” Mei wiped at her eyes. “When did we start the whole ‘start off dramatic and broody’ thing?”Shoto smiled softly as he took the few steps needed to get to her side. He sat down at the picnic blanket and automatically wrapped an arm over her shoulder. “I think when we were eight. Or nine. Somewhere around there.”“Mmm, sounds about right.” Mei practically collapsed against his shoulder.They had been meeting like this whenever they could for the better part of a decade. The earliest Shoto could personally remember was when they were six, not long after he had first learned about what their home really was. He could remember clearly finding Mei in a closet, teary-eyed and hyperventilating – those little cabinets had been so much bigger back then – and holding her until she was able to calm down.Meeting had been frequent ever since. When things became too strained, when the stress and anxiety became too much for one or both of them to handle.“Are you doing okay?” Shoto brushed a stray bit of pink hair away from her face. “You were quiet back there.”“Yeah.” Mei let out a deep sigh. “I just didn’t want to make everyone freak out worse than they already were. The younger guys were gonna no matter what, but it was like half of the school was there…”“I don’t think that’s an exaggeration.” Shoto couldn’t help but chuckle. “Honestly, I think the student body has informally adopted us.”“Is that a good thing or a bad thing…?” Mei sounded unsure and exhausted. She let out a heavy yawn.“It could be worse.” Shoto smiled as he felt her slump against him in to a more comfortable position.At this rate, she was going to fall asleep right there.“It’s nice to be back.” Mei murmured; she was starting to doze off. “Back home.”“Home?” Shoto blinked. Was this home, now? This universe, this school, this rooftop?“Mm-hmm.” The body against his shifted slightly. “Home. With everybody. With you. Home. I didn’t like it there, don’t want to go back…”He could feel a blush warming his own face.“You missed some stuff while you were gone.” Shoto wanted to get her mind off of the other world; if she fell asleep with it on her mind, she’d have nightmares.“Hmm?” Another drowsy murmur.“The entrance exam thing happened.” Shoto looked at her face; the city lights were reflecting off of the pale sheen of sweat that she must have accumulated over the past few days. Somehow, it made her more beautiful. “They wouldn’t let anyone older than fourteen try out for it, but they let the thirteen-year-olds give it a shot. Something about it not being unusual for kids to get boosted up a grade.”“How’d our guys do…?”“Oh, absolutely horribly.”Mei woke up and burst out in to surprised laughter.“Well, they did.” Shoto laughed a little with her. “We didn’t get to watch them try out, but they came back looking sad and tired and Yuki was covered in mud for some reason. Oh, and they had fake sheep as part of the exercise and Erika stole one of them, so you might see that around.”“What?!” Mei was still laughing. “Fake sheep?!”“I don’t know,” Shoto couldn’t help the grin on his face. “They told me that they had to destroy giant metal… Robots, that’s the word, robots, but there were fake sheep walking around. I think they were expected to rescue the sheep?” He shrugged. “Erika took one back. I don’t know why they let her keep it.”“What the hell…?!” Mei was wide awake now, but she had laughed so hard that fresh tears were on her face. “Oh, I wish I had seen them like that…!” Still giggling, she rested back against his chest.Mei struggled to control her laughter; she burst in to sparodic giggles every few seconds in a failing bid to calm herself. Shoto had seen this plenty of times; whenever something struck her as particularly amusing, it would be ages before she’d stop laughing about it.When she did manage it this time, who knows how many minutes later, she was starting to doze off again. A bright, warm smile was plastered on her face.They had been best friends for as long as Shoto could remember. He brushed fresh stray strands, rough and thin from several days of lack of bathing, from her face.She was safe, now. She was safe here. They both were, free of the anxieties that had been plaguing them since they were small. It was still such a strange thing to think about, that they didn’t have to look over their shoulders, that they could talk freely about whatever they liked.Freedom. Home. Here.Well, mostly free. Mei had opened her eyes again, full and bright, and had a very specific look on her face that he would be able to recognize anywhere.Shoto braced himself. “Mei, you have the ‘I’m thinking about something really weird’ look.”“Yeeaah…” She trailed off. Then, she took a deep, steadying breath. “So, on a scale of one to ten, how weird would it be to ask your alternate universe self out on a date?”“What.” Shoto paused. “What in… Ten, absolutely a ten. Wait, the other me or the other you?”“The –” Mei sputtered for a moment, laughter catching so hard that it caused her to snort. “The other you. Oh my god, the other way would… That’s technically biological incest, Shoto!”“Your phrasing was off!” Shoto let out a surprised laugh of his own. “But… Todoroki? Him? Why?”“He’s… Muscly!” Mei said with a sheepish smirk. “And he’s… Dramatic and broody and has a giant mysterious scar on his face!”“First,” Shoto stared at her. “The scar isn’t from a fight.” What it really was from wasn’t his secret to tell and if Todoroki couldn’t trust him – himself, really, when push came to shove – then who would he be able to trust? Better to not say anything, even to Mei. “Second, I can be muscly…”“You can be muscly?” Mei raised a brow, smirk on her face. “Are you sure about that?” Then, she paused, and her expression settled in to something more serious. “Besides, we’ve been together for so long, it’d be… Weird, wouldn’t it?”He had to admit that she had a point. He had never considered the romantic route, but, now that he thought about it, had it been because he knew that they were all going to die? That he never wanted to get that kind of close? They had an extremely tight bond – he would do anything for her and he knew she would do the same for him – but a romance? That… That would be weird. She was right. Mei was always right.“I mean,” Shoto still felt odd about this conversation. “If you want to ask him out, that’s your choice. But have you spoken more than three words to him?”“…No.” Mei admitted with a squeak. “But he’s… Muscly.”Shoto rolled his eyes. “You have my blessing, I guess?” A pause. “But if you got together with him, you’d technically eventually be my sister-in-law.”Mei’s eyes widened. “You took the Todoroki’s adoption offer?”Now it was Shoto’s turn to look embarrassed. “I only made the decision for myself,” He didn’t want to tell her that he hadn’t been allowed to make a decision for his biological baby brother. “But the Todoroki family apparently has a whole lot of money, which supposedly means something in this world. I figured, if we can’t all find footing here, at least we wouldn’t be a bunch of homeless orphans with no cash.”“Stop sacrificing yourself for people.” Mei said with a soft frown. “Seriously. But you’re going to be… Shoto Todoroki?”“I’m pretty sure they’re letting me keep the Yamada name just to avoid confusion.” Shoto shrugged. “Not that it really matters to me.”“Yeah, because ‘Nanashi’ or ‘The Nameless’ would have been so much better.” Mei grinned cheekily.A beat of silence passed. Shoto slumped slightly. “I would have been fitting.”“You’re such a goofball.” Mei laughed.After that, they fell in to a new companionable silence. After a while, Shoto felt Mei relax completely, falling asleep in his arms.Then, when he thought he only blinked, he opened his eyes again to find the sun rising in the distance. They were both laying back on the blanket, their arms wrapped around each other.Shoto smiled at her still sleeping face. --------------------“Wait a minute,” Himiko Toga squinted at him. “Don’t I know you?”For a solid, harsh moment, Ojiro had absolutely no idea what to do. Granted, the girl on the floor in front of him looked harmless – her hair was down and unkept, her school-like uniform was wrinkled and, as far as he could see, there were no sharp objects around – but that was still one of Japan’s most wanted criminals.That was a villain right there. He had never seen what she could do, had never actually met her in person, but he had heard from Midoriya and Uraraka about how crazed and obsessive she was, he had seen the reports on the news…It felt like a lifetime ago, though.“Wait… I do know you!” Toga clapped her hands together and a manic grin crossed her face. “You were on Shigaraki’s kill list!”Oh. He was on a ‘kill list’. That was… Nice? He guessed?Did such a kill list even matter anymore, though?“Uhm,” Ojiro tried to form words and failed miserably.“Hey,” Toga slowly got to her feet and was squinting again at him. “Chill, I’m not gonna do anything. But… Did you always have numbers on your neck? I don’t remember that from the photos Shiggy had of you U.A. guys…”For a moment, all Ojiro could do was stare at her dumbly. She didn’t know about the numbers? “You… You know where we are, right?”“What?” Toga blinked once. “I figured from the giant freakazoids that this is some stupid alien planet or something.”She was close, he supposed. Technically. Kind of. Ojiro still stared at her. “Alternate universe, actually.”“What?” Toga blinked again. “Oh… Oh, shit, that makes so much more sense! I was wondering why the hell they eat human people here if it was another planet!” Well, at least she knew what an ‘alternate universe’ even was, so that was one explanation that didn’t need to happen. “Wait, does that mean you’re not from U.A…?” She was still squinting.For a moment, it was incredibly tempting to lie. Claiming that he didn’t know who she was or what she had done or tried to do and to absolve himself completely through ignorance would make things so, so much easier.But his own pride was kicking him in the ass; the only time he had lied in recent memory had been to the demons. But that had been to protect other people, not for himself. It wasn’t right to lie only for his own stupid greed. Ojiro winced and gulped. “No, I’m… They took me from U.A.”“That kinda sucks.” Toga said bluntly. Well, at least they could agree on that much. “Those freaks put numbers on you?”She didn’t know about the farms. Did she know anything about this universe? Had she been stuck in this room for who knows how long?Wait. There had been villains back at the facility. They had been with Aizawa-sensei and the Pro Heroes.Were villains and Pros working together? So much had been going on that he hadn’t had the mind to ask, everything had happened so quick…It was suddenly very hard to breath. The world tilted and blurred.“Woah, woah…!” Toga sputtered. “Don’t spazz out now, I need info!”Okay, she was kind-of-sort-of right, there were things that she should be aware of, villain or not. Ojiro tried to get in proper gulps of air. “There’s… They have farms here, people farms, they put numbers on little kids…” He wasn’t sure how to properly explain it all. “They eat kids…!”“…Huh.” Toga’s eyes had widened. “Like those tags they put on cows. They got numbers, too.” She paused. “I mean, they told me straight up that they were gonna eat me in a big ol’ feast, but they put you on one of these freaky farms?”“No, they…” Ojiro really wanted to sit down. He looked around; there were six beds in the otherwise completely empty room. They all looked like they had recently been slept in. Still, he sat down on the edge of one of them. Words were swimming in a scrambled mess in his head and he tried to put them in some sort of order. “They brought me somewhere else, I guess they put the numbers on me at the same time as the heart implant, but people were still getting killed off…”“Numbers and an implant.” Toga repeated flat, eyes locked on him. “Sounds fun.”“I thought they were going to kill me.” It felt as if the entire world was melting away. “That’s why I… I thought…”The past few hours came crashing down on him all at once.Ojiro covered his face with his hands. “Oh, god, I’m such an idiot!”“Uh,” Toga said sharply. “Let’s pretend I followed most of your rambling ---”“I gave Hagakure my phone!” Ojiro rubbed at his face. “I thought they were going to kill me, so I have her my phone and now I’m stuck here and there’s no way for anyone to find us!”“Still not really following, but okay.” Toga, at least, wasn’t trying to touch him or even act harsh.She didn’t know anything about this world. This girl could have been here only for a few days; Ojiro honestly had no idea how long the Pros and the villains had been working together to even hazard a guess to a timeframe.She didn’t know anything.… She didn’t know anything.Ojiro slowly looked up to stare at her.Toga looked entirely annoyed.“They came for you.” Words were still not pulling themselves together properly. Ojiro tried to clear his head, but he remembered that one villain calling Toga’s name when it hadn’t been her. “Your friends, I mean, the other villains. They were looking for you.”“What?” The annoyed expression on Toga’s face melted in to shock. “What are you talking about?”“The, uhm,” What were those villains names? Shit, he couldn’t remember. “The two guys with the masks and the lizard guy, they were with some Pro Heroes, I think they were working together on a rescue mission.”“Woah, what?” Toga blinked widely. “Shit… They made a deal with heroes and jumped in to a crazy alternate universe with a buncha Pros to… To try’n find me? Huh…”“Yeah…” Ojiro slumped.He had given up his phone. His entire original plan had rested on having his phone. Now he really was going to die here because he was too stupid to have a backup plan…“How’d you still end up here, then?” Toga frowned. “If a buncha Pros came in to rescue you?”The question caused physical pain. “The demons didn’t know they were there… I gave myself up to give them time to get away…”Toga squinted at him suspiciously. “…Huh.”Silence passed for a few seconds.Ojiro clutched his skull and tried very hard to calm down.“So,” Toga said suddenly. “What’s your quirk?”“What?” Ojiro blinked up at her.She had that manic grin back on her face.This question again?All he did was flick his tail at her.Toga stared at the tail. She then looked back at his face. She was still grinning, but there was a bit of nervousness in there now. “No, seriously, what’s your quirk?”“My tail is my quirk.” Ojiro glared.“What the fuck…?!” Toga sputtered. “Seriously?! How the hell did you get in to U.A.!?”“I worked hard.” Now, he looked to the floor, faintly embarrassed for reasons he couldn’t pinpoint. “Why does it matter?”“’Cause if you had a real quirk, I coulda copied you and busted out of here!” Toga began to pace. “Nothin’ else’se been working so far! And you’re just… Practically quirkless! A goddamn tail?! Really?!”Okay, that hurt. Still, Ojiro only glared at the floor. But hadn’t she jumped out before? She had let out a scream and… “What did you try to stab that demon with?”“God, they didn’t give me anything real good to use here!” Toga picked something up and tossed it at him. It landed on the bed. “Just the basic shit!”It was a wooden toothbrush. The handle of it had been sharpened to a fine point.She had turned a toothbrush in to a prison shank.A part of his mind that felt blank and fuzzy was glad that the monsters that intended to eat them at least gave them the ability to bathe and clean themselves. They didn’t necessarily have to give them toothbrushes or even a bed to sleep on.Had the demons given them anything else? Ojiro looked up and around.The room was incredibly plain. There was no wallpaper or carpeting or even a window, but the ceilings were high. He guessed that they had to be tall enough for the them. A toilet sat in next to a sink in the corner and, god, that was going to be awkward later. There were six small beds, each of them messy – and he wondered if, maybe, Toga had slept in each of them just for the hell of it – and, except for a very large bulb hanging from the ceiling, the only thing of note was an odd metal bar nearly against the ceiling that stretched from one end of the room to the other. At first, he thought that it might have been a pipe, but the glint of something metal caught his eye in a dark far corner. There was something hanging from the pipe…It curled over the top of the darker metal, a pale silvery sheen. It took a moment to recognize the top of a broken, oversized coat hanger for what it was.This was a closet. This was a demon’s coat closet that had been turned in to a cell.Ojiro really didn’t know how to feel about that.“Hey.” Toga said, and the sheer glee in her tone sent alarm bells blaring in his head.He looked to her sharply to find that crazed grin was there again.Toga beamed at him. “Can I drink some of your blood?”The first instinct was to naturally tell her ‘absolutely not’ and to back the hell away from her. However, the past month and a half were weighing down on him now and with literal death on the probable near horizon, Ojiro was… Tired. Tired and angry and sad and, at this point, why would anything this crazy girl want to do even matter? What could she even do with his blood right now?“…Sure.” There just wasn’t the strength to argue. “Why not?”“Oh, hey, usually people fight with me first about it.” Toga giggled. She reached for the shank of a toothbrush. “I just wanna try your quirk out, so just a couple of drops from your hand should do it!”Ojiro didn’t bother putting up even a token resistance. He held out his hand.The very tip of the makeshift shank pricked a fingertip with surprising gentleness; somehow, he expected her to go slash-happy from all the stories he had heard all that time ago. If nothing else, he expected her to have some kind of sickly disturbed look on her face, or maybe an exaggerated lick of the blood pooling from his hand…Instead, it barely hurt at all. The worst, really, was the pinching of his finger to get more blood out. The drops of it were collected on to the toothbrush’s pointed end and it was from there that she licked it off.Ojiro pulled back his hand and dabbed it at the corner of his shirt. It was already clotting and healing; it wasn’t even bleeding after a few seconds.When he looked up again, he almost reeled back from sheer horror.Toga had turned in to a completely identical duplicate of him. It might have been worse of a shock if he hadn’t spent the time that he had with the version of himself from this universe, but even Mashirao was different from this. Mashirao looked like him, but also shared his mannerisms and expressions; they were similar enough that it stopped being creepy after a while.This? This was uncanny valley. Toga looked like him, but she had her own expressions, her own craze-filled gaze. She had his face but didn’t have his face all at the same time. The slasher grin looked like the aftermath of a knife blade going from cheek to cheek.She was also still wearing her uniform, complete with miniskirt.“Oooh, I get it now!” Toga was feeling her arm -- his arm, technically – while that disturbed grin was still on her face. “You have muscles, man! You must work out a whole bunch! I mean, hello!” She paused. Then, she looked down at herself. “…And hello down there, too!”Oh god. This was a terrible idea. This had been an absolutely stupid idea. Why did he agree to do this? What was he thinking?!Ojiro slunk back across the bed.“And this tail isn’t nothin’, I guess!” Toga turned, but her tail twitched uneasily. Maybe she didn’t know how to move it. “I mean, it’s like… A weird arm, it can like… Grab stuff, right?”Several years ago, there had been a horror movie that his entire school had been talking about. By middle school standards, it had been the talk of the year after a few kids snuck in to a theatre and then told everyone about it. Ojiro had never seen it himself, horror had never been his thing, but he remembered the advertisements. The images of the villain that would cut off victims’ faces, wear them, set above poster taglines about how the villain became them and would take over their lives. He remembered the other kids in class talking about it. He remembered how uneasy it had made his eleven-year-old self.This reminded him a whole lot of that movie that he had never seen. Of Toga maniacally wearing someone else’s face. Of his face. If she murdered him here, would the demons care? Or would they just use his meat for a different meal?For a few minutes, he was legitimately frightened of this possibility. At least, until Toga tried to walk; she immediately lost her balance and stumbled.“Ah-ha!” She let out a short laugh. “Center of gravity shift. Stupid tail.”She tried again. This time, she managed to lift the base of her tail and take a total of two steps before completely falling and landing on her face.It suddenly was significantly less terrifying to watch this.“I will get this!” Toga declared to no-one.She got back up. This time, her entire tail came off the floor, but it came up too quick and she couldn’t hold her balance; she ended up right back down. She fell quick and sudden, landing with a harsh and painful-sounding thud.There was no moment or sound for a few seconds.“Your quirk sucks.” Toga said from the floor.“I said I worked hard.” Ojiro couldn’t help but feel at least a little bit smug.“It still sucks.” Toga grumbled. Then, what looked like mud formed around her; it melted in to puddles. As it did, her disguise of him fell apart and vanished. Even the tail turned to sludge.Faintly, Ojiro wondered if they were going to do anything about the mess or if they were just going to leave it there.She stood up amongst the muck and grime, hands on her hips. “Well, now what the hell am I gonna do?!”They both fell quiet. Neither of them had an answer. ---------------------The resistance, it seemed, knew how to hide.Tenya had led them deep in to the forest, following a trail that was inscribed – as far as Aizawa could tell – only through memory. If there were any notable markings to let the young man know where he was going, he couldn’t spot them, and if a Pro Hero that specialized in the underground couldn’t figure it out, then odds are that it didn’t exist.At least they all knew to keep quiet and to keep close. Even the kids in the back of the pack were hushed and quiet as the blue-haired boy in the front led the way. Tenya went slow; too slow, really. It could have been entirely for their sake, if not for the pitch darkness above them, lit only by the stars and two small flashlights.In the deep forest, they began to find the remains of civilization. Crumbling, grown-over walls and collapsed rooftops began to litter the path. What might have once been a gas station was now overrun with foliage, glass windows long since shattered. The forest floor suddenly hardened and Aizawa knew that ancient sidewalk or blacktop was now underneath.There were a few other scattered buildings along the way. An abandoned nest lay in the crook of the neck of a soiled mannequin and a thin tree grew through the roof of a rusted-over car. Plastic wrappers, papers and cigarettes were caught underneath natural rocks and leftover debris alike. The thin beams of the flashlights – one in his own hand, the other in Tenya’s – didn’t rest on anything long enough for a good look.The boy in the front ignored all of it. He led them past nearly a dozen such buildings before heading for what looked like what might have once been a Western-style movie theatre. The doors were tall, wide and open.They followed him in. They followed him to the back of the building, where a creaky, ill-maintained stairwell met them. Tenya didn’t hesitate or check if any of the steps would break apart; he walked down as if it were all natural and fine.So, they followed him down.At the bottom of the stairs, there was a door that took over the entire hall. It looked as rusted and as old as the rest of the ruins, but Aizawa could see the gleam of freshly cleaned and well-maintained silver reflecting off of the flashlight’s glare.Tenya put his hand against the wall. Something beeped.The doors slid open with a clean sounding hiss.The blue-haired teenager didn’t say a sound, but he gestured to hurry in.The door slid shut behind them, once Tenya was in the rear.Then, all around them was light.It wasn’t too bright, but it was very well lit. Both fluorescent lights and small torches were scattered around. It did the necessary job of revealing what this place had to offer.Technology cobbled together from centuries upon centuries were in obvious use. The same steam-era tubes that Mei had used in her original portal design were there, only ten times as large and against the walls. Modern wires connected them to giant, cabinet-sized computers – some of which had punchhole-filled papers connected to them – that were then wired to square box display televisions and laptops.The air was filled with a faint bubbling noise – like a simmering pot constantly set on low – and it took Aizawa a moment to find the source of it coming from multiple steaming workstations, where billows erupted in to faint plumes from metal tubes. Steam came from one such machine, connected to a typewriter, which itself was attached to a modern-looking tablet, and that itself had wires stretching out to a candlestick telephone.Aizawa couldn’t begin to guess how the hell they managed to get everything to function together.There was hardly anyone else around but it was the middle of the night. It must have been past two in the morning by this point.Around one particularly large table, covered in a crude map and several small statues, sat three figures. One, with long black hair, was slumped over, head rested in folded arms, and was obviously asleep. The other two, looking entirely exhausted and might have been having a conversation, looked up when they walked in.Aizawa recognized both of them. He gave a brief look around at the people around him to find a mix of surprised expressions. The only one that didn’t seem startled was Shota; of course he wouldn’t know what was going on, wouldn’t recognize the faces from a universe away.“Tenya!” One of them, an elderly man who was clearly this world’s Gran Torino, hobbled off his seat with use of a cane. He didn’t move from there. “...You’re late.”Wary and suspicious. A reasonable reaction.“Sir!” Tenya gave a military salute. “Sir, I’m reporting in –”“Who the hell are these people, Tenya?” The Gran Torino lookalike was clearly not in the mood.“Sir, uh…” Tenya slowly let his arm drop. “Those rumors about a parallel reality are apparently true, uh, sir.”The other conscious body at the table sat up straighter. Tomura Shigaraki – looking far more healthier than any of the ‘wanted’ photos of his other self, flesh more filled and several shades more tan – gave them all a suspicious stare. “Where’s Himiko?”“We, uh…” Tenya shifted in place. “…In that other universe. With every single person, adult and trainee, from the caretaker facility we were in the process of infiltrating.”Aizawa decided that it was a good and proper time to interrupt. “She’s safe. She used her quirk to copy one of ours –” Well, a villain, but that was semantics and, for the time being, it was better to keep it simple. “—and went with them to our world.”It took a moment. Torino and Shigaraki gave each other a look. Then, they seemed to relax in unison.The older of the two turned back to them, giving them a nod. He aimed his gaze at Aizawa. “Welcome to our little hole in the floor, then. I’m Sorahiko, that there’s Tenko. The girl who sleeps like the dead is Hana. We can talk as loud as we want, she’s going to be out until the morning.”Tenko – not Shigaraki, not here – let out a small snort of a laugh. He smiled fondly at the still dozing girl at the table.“I’m in charge, here.” Sorahiko nodded stiffly. “You helped our people, I take it?”Suddenly, Tenya gave a fresh salute. “Sir! I got the information from the facility’s database!” He then rushed to pull something from a pocket.It was a floppy disk.Someone in the silent crowd around them let out a faint, high-pitched squeak.“Ah! Very good!” Sorahiko hobbled towards them, moving quickly despite the cane. As he got closer, the numbers on his neck became clear. He took hold of the disk.Then, the old man paused; he looked from Aizawa to Shota slowly, eyes roving from one to the other. After a few seconds, an amused smirk crossed his face. “Another universe, huh? Heh. Makes things interesting. Well, you’re all probably about to fall over and we have some spare beds, so make yourself at home!”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“So, what’s the plan?” Nemuri glanced around, visibly worried, at the other children around her. She paused for a moment. “Is there a plan?”

“What the heck are we even gonna do?” Hizashi lounged back on a ratty old beanbag that they had found in a closet. It leaked pellets and why the house still had it was anyone’s guess, but the blonde had claimed it as his own as soon as he saw it. Despite the carefree language of his body, his face spoke of the fear that he really felt. Lying had never been one of his strong points. “We’re up shit creek without a paddle, here!”

Nemuri gasped and immediately clamped her hands around Ken’s ears. “Language!”

“I know bad words.” Ken’s little block-like face gave a clear pout. “I’m not a baby.”

“That’s not the point.” Nemuri hesitantly removed her hands. “I’m trying to protect you –”

Shota rolled his eyes. “I think we’re past the point of protection.”

“That’s what I mean!” Hizashi looked at him – one 11-year-old to another – with a deep frown that made him look older. Almost like one of the big kids. “What’r we gonna do?!”

“What about the tracking devices?” Ken squeaked. He had only recently celebrated his ninth birthday. “Maybe we can get them out and then we all go over the big wall!”

Nemuri visibly deflated. “I think they’re in the cartilage of our ears. I saw a bump on one of the new babies, I think that was it…”

What she didn’t say was that not all of them even had ears or the cartilage to hold such devices.

Ken, despite his youth, picked up on what wasn’t said. He felt at his own head, at the flat block of a skull that he had, and at the small holes that counted as his own ears. He frowned, deep in thought, but said nothing.

“Maybe we should do what sensei asked…” Nemuri looked at the floor.

“What?” Hizashi let out an incredulous laugh. “What, the whole,” His voice shifted to impersonate the soft-spoken woman that had raised them. “‘Accept your impeding death and enjoy the time you have’, that crap?”

“Everybody dies.” Ken said in a near whisper. “I read that in a book about a ghost. That everybody dies.”

“We can’t just give up!” Hizashi looked around at the lot of them, the few that knew the truth of their home. “Guys?!”

A long moment of silence passed.

“Guys…?” Hizashi tried again, quieter this time.

Shota shifted in his own cross-legged position on the floor. “I think there’s… Maybe one chance.”

The eyes of the three other children turned to him.

Still, Shota winced at the plan that he knew was likely impossible. It gave them false hope, at best. And yet… “Sensei told me about a place where people go to train to take care of kids. To become senseis. She told me she’d nominate me. And she’d ask that I maybe replace her.”

A stunned round of silence went over them.

“Oh!” Hizashi got it after a moment. “So you’d go to this place, do whatever the heck it is, come back, but then you’d be in charge!”

Shota winced again, still unable to meet their eyes. “There’s no guarantee I’d even be back before all of you were… Gone.”

“You should go anyway.” Nemuri said with a sudden strong conviction.

Shota looked up with surprise.

The raven-haired girl was staring at him with a fierce determination. After they had found out about everything, she had stopped wearing her hair in the perfect long pair of braids and he wondered if it meant something. Nemuri’s eyes shimmered. “At the very least, they’d let you live, right?”

“And,” Hizashi stuttered. “And, and maybe that plan might work! Maybe he can speed through the stupid… What is it, a school? And come back and then we’d be able to get out!”

It was the slimmest thread of hope that held them together after that.

Shota supposed that it helped that their sensei stopped keeping secrets. At least, from the four of them.

The announcement at dinner a few days later cemented their future.

“Everyone!” Their sensei called before they began to eat, as they usually did when an ‘adoption’ was announced. She pulled Shota gently to her side, long pale fingers wrapped around his shoulders.

In later years, the eternally calm smile that she wore on her face would inspire Shota’s own mask. She had always spoken with a calm, but upbeat musical tone; again, something that he had tried to incorporate but had never been able to nail quite right. Their sensei had been tall, thin, with locks of golden hair and a long, sturdy tail the same color as her flesh waving behind her. Sometimes, she formed large, scale-covered wings that vanished when she willed it, but had never taken flight. The other children had always compared their sensei’s extra appendages to a lizard, but Shota had always thought it had been more like the dinosaurs in the picture-books. Or possibly a dragon. The only time he had ever seen either the tail or wings really move was when she danced with the younger kids in time to instruments that some of the others practiced.

She had danced and laughed and always made certain that the house was decorated for every holiday, even if she looked tired the morning after. There had always been a present for each and every birthday, cookies baked for Christmas, and the scent of lavender in the biggest playroom whenever it rained.

She also had a pocket watch that tracked their movements. She also walked the children she had raised since they were babies to their deaths. She had personally watched each and every one of them die.

Still, she smiled brightly. She smiled as if their world was perfect. “Everyone, I have a special announcement. Shota has been adopted!”

The same lie. Everyone reacted as they always had, with applause and excitement.

“But there’s a little difference this time.” Sensei beamed. “He’s going to a military family and he’ll most likely be registered in to a military academy. So, I’ve given Shota permission to exercise and to work out as much as he likes to prepare.”

Curious chatter rose from the children.

Sensei raised a hand to calm them. “When you’re all adopted, what kind of schools or lives you have will be a conversation that you’ll have with your future parents. But this is something we know ahead of time. Just don’t be surprised to see Shota trying to get stronger over the next two months, okay?”

Smiles. Laughter.

The others had all congratulated him.

And over those two short months, Sensei had prepared him far more than she needed to. He had worked on increasing his muscle mass and stamina, had been cheered on by the other children in the house, and sensei had helped him turn it in to something of a household game.

Privately, she had told him everything about the facility he was going to. She had warned him about the special exams, the sparring matches and what they would expect from him. She had been the reason that he had been able to get through it all as quickly as he had.

He had always wondered after that if she did, in her own way, love them. If she had loved him really like a son. He wondered if he could do the same for the children that he would have to raise.

Logically, he had known that the plan wouldn’t likely work out, but emotionally was another matter. That barest flicker of an idea had cemented itself deep in the back of his mind and had refused to leave, connected to the memories of Hizashi’s smiling face and Nemuri’s soft lullaby as she helped the more anxious kids fall asleep. Of Ken’s strength and convinction despite how small he was. Getting through the facility in two years instead of five, he had held on to that barest flicker.

Hope finally died when he was placed in a different house.
---------------- Aizawa had never been particularly good at sleeping.It had never been for lack of effort; even as a child, some form of insomnia or restlessness had kept him up at all hours, forcing him to catch naps between schoolwork and household chores. After so many years, he had simply gotten used to it. In fact, it helped steer him towards hero work; if he wasn’t going to sleep, he may as well do something productive with the time.So, despite several days of constant walking combined with very recent stress and anger, he was up again at a ridiculous hour.This ‘resistance’ had given them empty beds in a large barracks-style room to sleep in. Other beds had ended up being occupied, but none of the people there had bothered them or had tried to talk to them. Word must have already gotten around, he assumed, of who they were and where they came from. Whatever the reason, it had been quiet enough, despite the people around him, and, as far as he could tell, everyone else had passed out.Well, almost everyone. A dim light from a bedside – Aizawa couldn’t tell if it was a basic LED or what would be considered an old-fashioned children’s night light plugged in to a wall – gave just enough illumination to reveal a hanging clock. The hands pointed out the time to be a little after five in the morning.The limited light also revealed that several of the previously occupied beds no longer had anyone in them. The ones that belonged to the people that lived here were ignored, but both Shota and Spinner were absent.Both of these worried him.Aizawa frowned to himself and left the room.In the halls, things were well lit with a mix of ceiling-strung lightbulbs and the occasional fire-blazing torch. A candle or two showed up once in a while as well. The people here used what they could get, he supposed.He had tried to get a basic layout of the place when they had first arrived, but he hadn’t been willing to leave the teenagers that had refused to go back home supervised by a single competent Pro Hero. He didn’t trust Hawks, top Pro or not, to have basic common sense, he didn’t want to put any additional burden on Shota, and Spinner was about as trustworthy as the lizards he looked like. Edgeshot, thank whatever gods were watching, had decided to stay, but even he had little experience with babysitting teenagers, let alone a group stuck in a different universe.Still, in that brief span of time, he had come to several conclusions.First, the entire base of this resistance was a patchwork of rooms made at different times and connected in a maze of whatever had likely been most convenient to add when they had needed it. It wasn’t altogether different from some city districts; streets that ended in half-roads or had grids inside of curves. Things built along centuries that had never been planned out, only smoothed over the best that it could be. Still, it’d be a pain to navigate this sort of honeycomb without a map.Secondly, there weren’t that many people in here. He estimated a few hundred, if that; hardly enough to launch a countermeasure against a fully fledged military civilization.This was an organization barely held together for the sole purpose of surviving. The other side might even call them a ‘terrorist cell’. He wondered how often they launched attacks, if they did at all.Questions for later.For now, Aizawa went through the halls and headed for that main front room that they had all been brought in to the day before. This early in the morning, there were people at some of the desks, looking at screens and working at who-knows-what, but a look around told him that neither of the two missing people were in here.Though, that girl that had been asleep at the large table in the middle was still there. Her position had barely changed; one arm had slipped to her side but she was still sound asleep. By the way that no one bothered her, this might have been a regular occurrence.Then, the scent of food hit Aizawa’s face.He hadn’t smelled anything of the sort since coming in to this world. The food that they had brought from back home had been prepackaged, dried or wrapped. Somehow, the scent startled him and he turned towards the hall that it came from.Curious – and not having any other clear path to take to figure out where the hell those two had gone – he decided to head in that direction.There were doors connected to this new hallway – walls a barely held together patchwork of ancient things put to use – but none of them were open. There wasn’t much of a point in getting overly familiar and opening them, in case the people in charge here decided he might be too much of a risk for snooping. There could, theoretically, be humans working with the demons in such a capacity, spies sent to smoke them out; he wouldn’t blame them for what they had to do to mitigate those risks.The further he went, the more the smell intensified. It wasn’t long before the sounds of cooking came with it.There was no door to what counted as a kitchen. There was only an archway and a couple of buttressing beams keeping the ceiling up. There were nearly a dozen people inside, each scurrying around preparing a virtual mountain of food in an array of pans, trays and fiery ovens. It didn’t look like a single thing here was electric, a myriad of flames licking the bottoms of metal. It was blazingly warm in here. He wondered, briefly, where the ventilation was, considering the lack of smoke.Inside this kitchen ended up being both of the people he had been looking for.Shota was over one fire, swirling something in a crockpot almost half of his size with an incredibly long wooden spoon. Spinner was awkwardly kneading some kind of dough, clearly not used to the task, on a nearby table. Neither were wearing the clothes that they had come in with and both had towels wrapped around the top of their heads to keep the sweat at bay.They were helping with the food prep? Why in the world…?Neither of them had noticed him. They were also having a conversation.“And she just… Told you?” Spinner sputtered, flabbergasted. He wasn’t really focusing on the dough at all. “Your sensei just flat out said, ‘hey, everybody here gets eaten’?”“Not quite like that.” Shota had a sad smile on his face; it looked more genuine than the forcefully happy look he usually wore. “It wasn’t until I was actually at the training facility that I knew about the implants. But she was… Honest. I respected that about her.”“Honest when she had to be, it sounded like.” Spinner muttered as he looked at the dough beneath his fingers.“The way I see it,” Shota still smiled. “Was that she kept the secrets that she had to in order to make the happiest home. I tried to do the same thing, despite… Well…”“And all those senseis started off like that?” Spinner frowned deeply. “Happy-go-lucky kids in these house farms?” “As far as I know.” Shota said with a small nod. “I didn’t talk much with the others back then, but none of them mentioned a rough childhood. The man we saw on the wall likely lived the same happy life before finding out the truth.” He paused before looking towards the villain. “Do you want to help him?”Spinner didn’t immediately answer. The expression on his face was some mix of deep confusion and indecision. “I shouldn’t, I don’t even know him, but it’s been stuck in my head…”A hum of agreement came from Shota. “Like you see someone with your own face and you feel an instant connection.”“Something like that.” Still, Spinner did not look any less confused. “How’s Eraserhead been treating you?”Shota let out a deep breath. The smile on his face twitched and he blinked rapidly before answering. “I understand that he wants to help me, but I have to admit that I haven’t been fond of being overprotected. In that other universe, I don’t know anything at all, fine, that’s well and good, but… Here, I should be on equal footing. We’re all fish out of water, here.”Aizawa found himself slinking back and hiding behind a support beam.Shota paused. “I shouldn’t be complaining, I suppose. All things considered, I’m… Fortunate. I assumed I’d spend my whole life in that house, caring for children, not on a whirlwind adventure like this. I never could have even conceived it.”“Huh.” Spinner said after a brief moment. “Now that you mention it and the more it keeps messing up my head, I don’t know what’s worse. Having a shitty childhood but getting to decide what to do after the fact, or having a fantastic life as a kid, but not getting anything else or, hell, stuck as a slave…”The smile on Shota’s face remained sad, but it grew. “I suppose I really did get the best of both worlds, then.”Spinner turned so sharply to stare at him that the entire mound of dough nearly fell off the table. The look on his face said that he very much disagreed with that assessment.So did Aizawa. Still, he had heard more than he had needed to.Maybe he had been a little overzealous, treating Shota – who was, quite literally, an adult his own age and capable of making his own decision – like one of the wandering teenagers from that other world. By all accounts, he had no responsibility towards any of them, certainly shouldn’t be mother-henning…Feeling a fresh pit in his gut, Aizawa slunk off back towards the main room.---------------  When the last of them were finally awake, Sorahiko called a meeting. Aizawa watched the seamless change from one of the unoccupied desks. The elderly man had insisted that they could go wherever they wanted, as long as they didn’t bother anyone, and even the kids had taken to just sitting wherever was convenient in this big room. Perhaps they were similarly uneasy about being too far from the rest of their ‘group’ as he was. Or afraid of getting lost. They still didn’t know these people. It didn’t matter, really, that the Tenya of this world had so many of the same mannerisms as Iida a universe away; everyone here was still a stranger. Even Katsuki eyed everyone suspiciously, flanked by Ochaco and Kyoka. Hagakure hung alongside them, but Aizawa had already caught her twice lingering further away from them. No one here was comfortable. It might not necessarily be a bad thing; if neither ‘side’ trusted the other, then perhaps they were all really what they said they were. Whatever the case was, as soon as Sorahiko called for the meeting, everyone that had been working at the desks immediately stopped what they had been doing. Papers were collated and left in piles, screens shut down, and the desk lamps and candles had their lights turned out. As they filed out, others took their place, mostly older men and women. The experienced ones, he assumed. But with them came Tenko and Hana. The latter of which came in with a wide yawn. The former scratched at his neck and it was in that action that Aizawa noticed two things. This version of Shigaraki wore unusual gloves; black, skin-tight things that left his index and middle fingers free. By the fraying on gloves, they had not been a custom-made job, but rather a pair of gloves that had simply had those fingers snipped off. Aizawa didn’t profess to know exactly how Shigaraki’s quirk – and, by virtue, Tenko’s – worked, but if he needed to touch something with his full hand to destroy it, then the gloves made sense from a practical standpoint. Secondly, neither Tenko nor Hana had numbers on their necks. Aizawa wasn’t the only one to notice; he saw the squinting stares in both the teenagers and adults around him, the ones as new to this place as he was. Even Shota looked surprised. They all sat down around the large center table. None of the chairs matched, an eclectic mix of dining room furniture, kitchen pieces and whatever, Aizawa supposed, they dug up from the ruins. A few of them were even old office chairs; Hagakure swiveled on hers. “Well, now that we’re all here –” Sorahiko tried to start. “Where’s Tenya?” Katsuki interrupted with only a small growl. He had tried to make it sound nonchalant and had done a terrible job of it. Sorahiko rolled his eyes. “He doesn’t have the rank and he’s too damned excitable. Keeps interrupting for ‘clarify this’ and ‘what about that’ and I really don’t wanna deal with that right now. He’s a good kid, just too eager.” The quick explanation did the job of calming the teenagers down. Still, Katsuki folded his arms and shifted in the armchair beneath him. Then, Sorahiko turned to look at the majority of the table; the men and women of the resistance looked back expectantly. “We got some good news and some bad, but we expected as much. The best of the lot is that Tenya got exactly the info we needed regarding the quirkless boys. You were in charge of deciphering that mess, Sai.” A middle-aged man with a pronounced rhinoceros-like horn where his nose should have been gave a curt nod to the rest of the table. “The disk told us more or less what we expected. A majority of them are in the site known as ‘Lab Lambda 7214’. But there’s been a curious development regarding 56550. It seems he’s been moved to the Grandfather’s direct care and I have no idea why.” The mass of teenagers to the side – or most of them, Aizawa noted – immediately jolted in their seats. Only Hagakure remained the same, her chair still swiveling restlessly. Katsuki aimed a swift glare at the rhinocerous man before turning to stare daggers at Sorahiko. “Hold up. I know those numbers. Nice try keeping it quiet from the rest of us, but you’re saying goddamn Deku’s alive and in the hands of this Grandfather guy?!” Sorahiko frowned, “‘Deku’?” “Izuku.” Kyoka, with a similar severe stare, clarified. “We grew up with him.” “Ah.” Sorahiko gave a nod. “Tenya mentioned that.” He looked back to the man with the horn. The man – Sai – only frowned. “The only information we now have is that this… Deku, was it? Izuku? He’s now in the Grandfather’s private residence.” A few winces went around the table. Aizawa could see where this was going, but before he could ask the golden question, another Pro Hero beat him to the punch. “Let me guess.” Hawks let out a bit of an overdramatic groan. “This new place is impossible to get to? Super high security?” Sai gave a quick nod. “Directly in the middle of the human’s wealthiest district in the capital.” Sorahiko gave a snort. “To say it has ‘high security’s a bit of an understatement. Might be a lost cause. And speaking of lost causes…” He turned to another at the table. A woman who might have been in her fifties responded with her mouth set in a thin line and eyes glancing to the side. Long, dark purple locks of hair occasionally let out tiny star-shaped bursts of light. She did not look like an eager messenger. “We did find some information about the people taken from the other universe. Both of them, though, are in the cook’s house.” “Hmm.” Sorahiko stroked his beard. “Interesting.” The men and woman from the resistance all stared at him incredulously. “Sir.” The purple-haired woman went pale. “Sir, that house is in a primarily nomu district in the capital. If the first one was a lost cause, this one is even more so.” Something deep inside Aizawa suddenly hardened from sheer surprise. “Wait, what?” Spinner suddenly interrupted, jolting in his seat. “What did you just call them?!” The greenish skin, the claws, the giant eyes. Was it even possible? The faces around them looked to Spinner with surprise. Sorahiko sputtered, bemused. “Nomu. That’s… What they are. We’re humans, they’re nomu, the deer and rabbits outside are deer and rabbits. Did no one explain this to you?” Aizawa glanced at the faces around him; the shock he expected was splayed on every one of his current allies. Even the teenagers – the ones that had only been a world away for a little over a month – looked startled. “Maybe it’s… Concidence?” Edgeshot suggested. “Hell of one if it is.” Spinner seemed to deflate. Sorahiko looked from face to face. “Would someone like to share with the rest of us what the hell is giving you all the heebie-jeebies?” Aizawa took in a deep breath. “There’s…” How to even start? “…Creatures back on our world, created by a group of villains, by humans, called by the same name. But they’ve only been around for a couple of years, if even that.” He looked to Spinner. The lizard-like villain somehow deflated even more in to his seat. “Don’t look at me, I didn’t ask questions.” There were striking similarities. The monstrous strength, the color of their skin, and some of the villain-created nomu did have the same claws. But if these had been around for hundreds of years, they should have pre-dated the quirk explosion. Was that the main difference between their worlds? Did the quirk explosion happen here earlier, had given rise to some other ancient villain organization that made some other version of the nomu? Did their two universes even have a ‘major’ difference that marked them apart, like fiction often claimed? “Huh.” Sorahiko frowned, but didn’t seem particularly bothered. “Well, the nomu here have been around for hundreds of years. Maybe even thousands. Hell if we know, our recorded history’s a bit of a mess. Doesn’t matter anyway. Besides, what we have here are two different issues. The quirkless kid might be stuck, but we need to know why he’s suddenly in such a secure location. It’s weird, if nothing else. Then there’s the thing with the two victims from the other universe headed for the Tifari.” A slight mischievous grin crossed is face. “Tenko, what do you think about all this?” This world’s Shigaraki literally jolted in his seat. He looked up, face ashen and visibly startled. One hand scratched at his neck. For a few seconds, he didn’t say anything. Then, the girl sitting next to him – Hana – smiled gently and gave a soft nudge to his shoulder. Tenko glanced back quickly at the small contact; it seemed to calm him. Then, Aizawa noticed that the two shared similar features. Siblings? As far as he was aware, the Shigaraki a universe away had no such sister, but there were people here that didn’t exist there, so there likely wasn’t much of a point to get stuck on this. It was the same as the Iida family, of that little girl who had a mother that had never been born.As well, a secondary relationship – between this young man and Sorahiko – became clear. This Tenko had the look of a young man still learning to take responsibility and control but with all the anxiety of someone new to the job. Sorahiko’s jibe had been a way to bring him in to the leadership side of conversation. Shigaraki, this boy was not. “Well… Uhm…” Tenko shifted uneasily. “What’s been bothering me since we found out all this is… Why two?” “What?” Sorahiko said with a frown. “Why two what?” Tenko was still scratching at his neck. He was leaving visible red marks. “Queen Legravalima’s been at the head of the Tifari for, what, twelve years now? This is her fourth feast. She’s only ever had one live human brought to her before. Why are there two this time?” “Because two are available?” Hana said with a clear lack of understanding. “Two people from another universe, she wants the best meat? Like usual?” “No, he’s on to something.” Sorahiko stared at the pale young man. “What’r you thinking?” Tenko stopped scratching his neck. His expression shifted from the startled unease to a more solid conviction. “She had one in the cook’s house before even going to the sensei school. She could have stopped there, but nobles went out of their way and broke protocol to get the other one. They could have just left him there for a few years for the next Tifari if they really wanted to, but they didn’t, and now there’s two on the plate.” He paused. A deep breath was taken. “I think… She’s going to announce that she’s pregnant.” Hana let out a nervous laugh. “Eating for two? Really?” “That,” Sai said with a breath. “Would be incredibly problematic. If it were true.” “Excuse me.” Aizawa decided to butt himself in; he hated only getting half of the information and relying on context clues. “Why would a pregnant queen be problematic?” Sorahiko turned to look at him. “The current queen, Legravalima, was the only heir to the throne. Her father, the previous King, died before a ‘spare’ could be born and there aren’t any cousins or distant relatives that could take the throne. We’ve been working on an assassination plan, because as soon as she’s down, we’re certain it’ll start a war between the different nomu houses. But there just hasn’t been an opportunity.” A bitter chuckle. “They know she’s the last in line, too. Security around her’s been hell.” “If she’s pregnant,” Tenko said with a thoughtful look on his face. “I think this Tifari might be our last shot.” “You want to attack the Tifari?!” The purple-haired woman at the table yelped; her hair flung up as she did so and galaxies swarmed violently along the locks. “Are you out of your mind?! Every noble from every house is going to be there! The goddamn Pope is going to be there!” “If she has this baby,” Tenko stared at her. “Then we won’t have another chance. If we assassinate the kid, she’ll have another, and I really don’t think we can knock them both off!” The woman sputtered. “We don’t even know if she’s actually pregnant!” “She’s had a consort for a year, now.” Sorahiko said softly in a disagreeing tone. “The high houses have been trying to get her a partner for years. She has one and pretty recently, too. We knew that this would be coming sooner rather than later.” The grin came back. “And the Tifari grounds aren’t that far from the human districts and Grandfather’s house, are they?” “Sir?” Sai asked apprehensively. “Are you saying you want to attack both the Grandfather’s house and the Tifari at the same time?” “Yeah,” Sorahiko gave a small, pleased nod. “Yeah, I don’t think there’s any other option. I think if we can work this right, each can work as a decoy against the other. The Tifari’s in six days, isn’t it?” He then turned back to them, the faces from another world. “I’m pretty sure you want help put this together, right?” Aizawa opened his mouth to answer. He didn’t get the chance. “Fuck yeah!” Katsuki shouted with a wide, wicked grin. “Fuck yeah we do!”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Mei came to the decision that she was going to sleep for as long as she wanted and that nothing was going to stop her. She didn’t exactly remember how she got to her bed. Or, rather, the bed that the people here had given to her. Had Shoto carried her there, or had she walked on her own power, half asleep? In the past, she worried about sleep-talking, of saying things while unaware that could get her in trouble. She didn’t have those worries, now. Not anymore. There were no dangers, here. There was no sensei waiting for the slip of her tongue. There was only a soft bed, a pillow she sorely missed after sleeping in trees for several days and a sense of calm that came over the entirety of her world. Everything, right now, was perfectly fine. Nothing was happening. No more secrets, no more monsters with claws and fangs and swirling, giant eyes; there was only here and now and warmth. By the time she woke up again, the sun came in strong from the balcony and she felt entirely rested. Someone had drawn up the curtains, but the sunlight still peeked through from the corners and underneath the folds. The clock claimed that it that it was nearly noon. For a little while, Mei lied there, taking in the soft mattress and blankets. Through the glass window, she could barely hear the chirping of birds and the laughter of the kids that must have been playing outside. Both sounds were familiar, but now she didn’t have to worry if any of those kids’ numbers were literally up soon or not. A stuffed toy was on her stomach. One of the little kids must have left it for her; by the bow tied around its neck, probably from one of the girls. She smiled at it, not entirely sure what the toy was supposed to represent with body parts from all over the animal kingdom and a bright green coat. Something from one of the popular hand-drawn shows in this universe? What were they called, ‘cartoons’? The television was still a novelty, still a box of ever-blaring mystery. Never knew what was going to be on that screen. Mei lied there, keeping anxiety at bay, and stroked the fake fur on the plush toy for a little while. She didn’t really want to move. There was no attempt to get up until her stomach jabbed at her brain. Ah, yes. She hadn’t eaten since a day earlier, a couple of hours before they went in to that training place for the rescue that was half botched and half wasn’t. And even then… Well. Food sounded good. Regrettably, Mei pushed herself out of the bed and stumbled off. She left the toy on the bed. Now that she was moving, her clothes – the same one she came in with and had been wearing for days – felt sticky and uncomfortable. A drawer was dug into to reveal a line of pajamas in various sizes – nightgowns, trousers-and-shirts, even some boxers – and she picked a pair of sweatpants and a near-color-matching top. It didn’t really belong to her, but nothing really belonged to any of them; they all shared the clothes. If it fit, wear it. Once dressed in something that didn’t smell like grass and rot, she left the room. Shoto was waiting for her in the hall. Mei stopped to stare at him. “Please tell me you haven’t been waiting for me to wake up.” She sighed. A small smile was on his face. “Normally, I’d say yes just to tease you, but this time…” He looked behind her, further down the hall. He tried to squash the smile on his face and failed miserably. Still, Mei felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She turned around. Then, several small children collided with her, each of them shrieking with laughter. “An ambush!” Mei gasped overdramatically; she had seen the faces before they had moved and had been given just enough time to get her acting face on. She stumbled but didn’t quite fall over; even when a pair of very small bodies clung to each of her ankles like warm, living shoes. “Oh no, I’ve been captured!” The little devils let out peals of giggles. “We missed you!” One of the shoe-children grinned at her; Hayate bore his teeth at her. He had lost one while she was gone. Mei took in a deep gasp. “Oh, I don’t believe you.” More giggles came at her theatrics and it was hard not to lose it with them. “You’re all so independent and self-sufficient! You wouldn’t miss little ol’ me!” She tried to walk. None of the kids on her arms or legs let go. Izumi, on her arm, sprouted octopus-like tentacles from his back to cling on all the harder. Someone really had to talk to these kids about using their quirks for more important things than random hall attacks. Despite it all, she somehow pulled them along with her, inch by inch, shuffling along the carpet. Chuckling and laughter came from around the rest of the hall; the older kids and a couple her own age were watching, warm smiles on their faces. Along a wall, Denki was fully doubled over laughing at the sight and she couldn’t help but shake her head a little. Her family was here. The rest of them were probably on different floors and playing outside, but her family was here. This was home and they were welcoming her back. She still felt sticky, though. “Okay, but seriously.” Mei stopped to catch her breath; these kids were heavy. “I’m starving and I really need to get cleaned up.” “Okay, guys.” Shoto still smiled as he moved to pry little fingers off of her body. “Mei can’t move with all of you on her.” A couple of the other older kids from around the hall moved in and, despite some minor resistance from the giggling brood, all of the little gremlins were pried off and either set back on the floor or held in someone else’s arms. “Welcome back.” Shoto smiled, pretending as if their roof-top meeting from the night before hadn’t happened. Like they always did. Mei grinned back. They hadn’t been living in this dorm building for very long. At least, not comparatively. Still, it had enough similarities to the old house that it had quickly become comfortable. The weirdest thing, really, had been getting used to having smaller rooms with less of them sleeping together; going from one giant bedroom to lots of little ones had left some of the little kids crying at all hours for the first week or so and had left a weird disconnected feeling for the rest of them. At least, Mei had felt detached, in a room with only three of the other girls. It had felt too quiet without all of the snoring. What was wholly familiar, though, was the washroom. Back at the house, they all shared one giant shower room and a row of sinks. Reading in books about what had supposedly been more typical, of smaller, closet-sized spaces where people could barely fit had always sounded claustrophobic. For a toilet, sure, but for whole showers? Thank goodness this place wasn’t like that. So, Mei was looking forward to the familiarity. To the wide space and showerhead blasting steam and thick, heavy water. She got as far as the elevator – another amazing piece of technology that most of the others still hadn’t gotten used to and it wasn’t unusual to see them use the stairs instead – before she stopped cold. The big window had been passed by, but an unusually low amount of light came from it. Mei took three steps back, not even bothering to turn around. She turned to look. Then, her jaw dropped. “How long has that building been there?” At her side, Shoto looked similarly perplexed. “I… I don’t know. I…” He paused. “I didn’t see it yesterday.” Across a walkway with a few benches lining the path, where a wooded area had been the last time she had looked out there, a brand new giant box of a building stood. Mei squinted at it, at the dim windows and what looked like some sort of yellow tape on the front doors. “That has to be at least six stories tall.” Mei sputtered. “They built it this morning!” One of the six-year-olds giggled. The little girl beamed at her. She also wasn’t wearing any pants. Mei raised a brow; little Sakura was a known to be mischievous. Running around naked was the least wild thing the girl’s done. “Built it this morning, huh?” “Uh-huh!” A rapid nod; near-neon purple pigtails bobbed as she did. “The cement man did it! It fwooshed out of the ground!” She raised her arms to go with the ‘fwoosh’. “Okay,” Shoto said with a roll of his eyes. “Let’s get back to your room and get some clothing on.” He started to push her along. “No…!” Sakura wailed dramatically but didn’t fight. Mei shook her head at yet more antics from her wild family. Still, she wouldn’t trade it for anything. It’s a sheer miracle that they all made it back here alive and relatively unharmed. Well, most of them. The reason she went back to their home universe in the first place, leaving all of this behind… Mei stared at the newly constructed building with a deep frown. She had the feeling she knew who was going to live there. Then, she stepped in to the elevator.--------------  Suspicions were proven to be correct two days later. Mei had taken that time to try to relax. She had lounged on the main couch, eaten whatever she had wanted, and had watched whatever programs on the television that some of the others had either picked on purpose or randomly found. The afternoons had consisted of a mix of cartoons, documentaries, and something called a ‘soap opera’. She was still trying to deduce what the ‘soap’ part of the name had to do with the genre when some chatter came from the rest of the lounge late that afternoon. “Hey,” Mina called from the door. “I think the people they got from back home are moving in!” ‘Back home’ was one way to call the universe so many of them had died in. From another couch, Mezo glanced up; every documentary had been his decision to put on. “That makes sense. We’re still a government secret, aren’t we? Where else would they go?” Mina shrugged. “Wanna check it out? See if we, uh… Know anyone? Or if we can help?” “Hanta and Mashirao are probably still at the hospital.” Mei butted in but lifted herself off of the couch. “I mean, they’d come right here if they were let out, right?” From the doorway, Mina shifted in place. She was sweating a little and the half smile on her face was far too familiar. “You want to check it out anyway.” Mezo said what everyone staring at the pink girl was thinking. “Yeah…” Mina laughed nervously. “I mean, we were all freaking out a little when we got here at first, and they’re probably even worse, what with everything Mei told us…” Mei raised a brow. Mina was trying to hide her curiosity behind altruism. Still, some of the others were coming down and she knew that the students at this school were probably somewhere on the same train of thought. “Yeah, okay.” Mei let out a breath. “Let’s go see if they need anything.” The walk there was rather short; after all, the building stood right there, within viewing distance. The yellow tape was still on the front door, but a very long vehicle – what were they called? A bus? A… Van? – was staying still and unmoving, letting off the terrified-looking people she barely remembered from the raid-slash-rescue. She hadn’t really looked at any of their faces back then, could only really remember that they had been there at all because of a few unusual physical bits and pieces, but she knew that look on their faces. She had also been right about the students here. 1-B was already there, but it looked like they were just on the sidelines. Mei gave a small wave to them and she got a few back. Some of them, though, looked out of breath. Had they ran here? They were in the 2-A building, the 1’s were decently far off. Mei frowned as she looked at them; most of 1-B looked particularly interested in the new arrivals. Monoma and Shiozaki did very poor jobs of hiding their obvious unease, though. Kendo stood between them both, looking worried. 1-A arrived a few minutes after that. It looked like they had the sense to walk, at least. She gave the group a general nod in their direction; they took it as an invitation to approach. “Hey,” Midoriya was the first to say anything, voice hushed. “Are you feeling okay?” Mei stared at him for a moment. It took that long to realize that it was just a general ‘how are you’ question and not intended to mean anything specific. “Yeah, I’m okay now.” She gave them a smile. A series of gasps startled her; she turned – at the same time as everyone else in their group – to look towards 1-B. They looked more than a little freaked out and it wasn’t until Mei turned to the line of people coming off of the bus-van-long-vehicle-thing that she understood why. Yup. This is what she had anticipated. Now there were two Monomas and Shiozakis and both looked completely disturbed to see the other, despite that half of the people involved already knew about this. “…I told them and everything.” Mei moaned to herself. “They’re still just… Staring at each other.” A loud, sudden gasp caused her to jump; she turned – and saw, from the corner of her vision – her own people doing the same – to stare at the mass collection of 1-A as they all openly gaped across the lawn. Yet another turn of her head and – “Oh, come on, guys.” Mei sighed. “Guys, I told you about this.” “I know,” Midoriya sputtered. “But… It’s…” Uraraka – shorter hair than Ochaco, and the other was a universe away besides – shuffled in from the side to set a hand on the green-haired boy’s shoulder. Her eyes, though, were aimed at Mei. “We didn’t have the best experiences with the, uhm… Other one.” Standing near the rear of the people stepping out of the vehicle was a blonde-haired girl that looked entirely out of her depth. Mei remembered her, though only barely just, from the madhouse from those days before. The hospital must have let her out after she dropped the quirk she borrowed from Compress. Which meant that Mei really needed to talk to her. “Hey!” Mei waved a hand to try to get her attention. Crap, what had her name been? She couldn’t remember her name! “Hey, blondie!” At least five different blonde-haired men and women turned to look at her. A woman with orange hair did, too, and Mei couldn’t figure out why. Orange was not blonde, dammit. None of them that turned were that girl. “Oh, come on!” Mei grumbled. A gentle elbowing came from the side. Mei looked up to stare at Uraraka. The cheery-faced girl winked. Then, she cupped her hands over her mouth. “Himiko!” There we go. The correct blonde turned, this time. Himiko stared at them all with wide-eyed shock. She was wearing the same outfit she had been before she had used her quirk – camouflage print, dozens of pockets, hair pulled up tight and numbers clear as day on her neck. After a few seconds, the blonde’s golden eyes squinted at them before she began to walk over. “Hey,” Himiko frowned right at her. “Do I know you?” “Not really.” Mei could feel her smile turn nervous. “I was at the… The place. Back there.” “Oh!” Himiko’s eyes lit up. “Oh, yeah, shit, you were with the people after the tail guys! You, uh, live here?” “Kinda sorta.” Mei grinned. “I have a whole lot of questions. Wanna hang out with us for a bit?” “Uhm…” Himiko frowned uneasily. “We have a television.” Mei offered. “You have a what?!” The unease instantly vanished. “A real one!? Holy crap, yes, I wanna see this!” The discomfort from 1-A around them seemed to have melted away. Mei had only heard stories about the villainous Himiko Toga and the things she had done, but this Himiko wasn’t Toga any more than she was Hatsume. She hoped they could see that and at least give her a chance. At least, as long as she could get the answers she desperately wanted. The walk back to the dorm came peppered with them. “Are the others still at the hospital?” Mei started it off. “Oh, damn. Yeah.” Himiko winced and gave a nod. “The guy that calls himself Compress, uhm, he’s going to be there a while. He let all of his orb things loose, but then he just passed out and they said something about a quirk-enduced coma. No idea when he’s gonna be back up.” Mei frowned deeply at that; she had spent only a few days in his company, and the man called himself a villain, but he didn’t seem like that bad of a guy. None of the others around them – notably 1-A – showed any real remorse about this information. Only small frowns. “The other guy, uh…” Himiko paused. “Mask guy. He’s still there too. One of the copies’s still letting people out of their orb things. The hospital won’t let the other one kill itself even though it isn’t a real person and it’s kind of hilarious. But, also, I checked on your tail friend, he’s still in the surgery queue, the elbow kid’s been with him.” That answered the most important questions. Mei smiled at her. “How bad have you been freaking out since you’ve been here?” Himiko’s eyes shot entirely wide. “Oh, god, completely off the wall bonkers. I don’t even know what’s happening half the time. I don’t even know what’s happening right now. I’m walking on sidewalk and that grass is short and everything here is human-sized but also still very big?! What the heck?!” Some laughter went around them. It wasn’t the mean sort, though; Mei found it comforting. Shoto put a hand on Himiko’s shoulder. “You’ll adjust. It took us a while, too. Also, thank you for watching your language.” “What?” Himiko sputtered. “Watching my wha -- holy crap those are kids!” She took a moment to stare, transfixed, at a nerf gun fight going on between the 2-A and 3-A buildings with a solid dozen or so of the little ones participating. As a group, they barely managed to nudge her in to the dorm lobby. Once there, the light laughter and quiet, but comfortable mood was interrupting by a loud series of beeps. “Huh,” Mezo said from somewhere behind her. “Why’s the television beeping?” “Oh!” Mei began to rush to the living area. “Kacchan must’ve set off Operation Gingerbread!” “Operation what?” Mezo asked with a confused blink. Mei skid to a stop. She almost collided with the back of the couch in doing so; she used it to turn herself around. “What do you -- Shoto! You didn’t tell them about Operation Gingerbread!” Shoto looked to the floor with clear embarrassment. “I couldn’t figure out how to work the television.” “Shoto!” Mei sputtered. “Then what was the point of Operation Gingerbread?! You haven’t been using it this whole time?! We gave it a clever name and everything! Operation Gingerbread was of paramount importance!” “Uh,” Either Mina or Ashido started, but Mei didn’t check to see which it was. “Can the rest of us have some words that aren’t ‘operation’ or ‘gingerbread’?” “It was at tracking program!” Mei turned back to the TV. She jumped over the couch to grab for the remote laying on the coffee table. “Is, I mean. Pretty sure it’s still operational. I programmed my portal making machine to make micro windows and I dropped tiny little tracking beacons through. They went off once they hit the ground on this side, but just for a second, to correspond with a map on the television so you guys’d know where I am in case things come up.” “What?!” Mezo turned to stare at the still bashful Shoto – along with half of the room at the least. “Even if you couldn’t figure out how to make it work, you should have told us!” “It’s not even hard!” Mei let out a sigh. “Guys, come here.” She waited for them to get to the couches. She knew that their attention was on her – at least, her own siblings – rapt and at full attention. “Okay, here’s how to access it.” Mei held up the remote. “Turn the television on. Press the ‘source’ button. Use the bottom arrow to go to ‘HDMI-2’. Press the middle button. Then use the arrows to scroll down until the ‘apps’ button shows up. Middle button again. Then find the ‘maps’ app. Click ‘open’. Then go to the ‘overlays’ option and choose the one titled ‘Gingerbread’. Click that. Choose the green ‘yes’ option. Tadaa! Now we have a map with our entire route!” A silent hush fell over them. Mei could hear a few snickers go around. “Honestly,” Mezo was the first to break the silence. “You lost me at the third step.” “Thank you.” Shoto let out a relieved breath. “It isn’t only me, then. I couldn’t remember what to do and I was worried I might break it by pressing too many random buttons.” “Why did that take so many steps?” It really was Mina that asked it this time. “I didn’t even know the television could do that.” A pause. “Wait, the TV has an internet connection?!” “Everything has an internet connection.” Mei blinked up at them. “The fridge is connected to the internet. The microwave is connected to the internet. All the clocks are synchronized with the internet.” This looked like a revelation for the majority of her siblings. The locals of this universe – the mingling students of 1-A – looked amused but didn't say a word. “Okay,” Mezo broke the silence again. “But why is it beeping? If you’ve been sending beacons this whole time, why is it beeping now?” “That means we have a message!” Mei took in a deep breath. “Could be good, could be bad.” She scrolled along the screen until she found the last beacon – where the resistance headquarters were, smack dab in the middle of a lake inside of a park in this universe. A few fresh button clicks – read message, confirm – brought the text box on screen. “They think Deku’s in the Grandfather’s house.” Mei read the message slowly aloud. “They’re going to attack the Tifari and the Grandfather’s house at the same time.” She paused after the message was over. “Who or what is the Grandfather?” “Oh, no.” All eyes turned to their latest friend; Himiko stood next to the couch, eyes wide and terrified. “Himiko?” Mei frowned. “Oh, no, no, no.” Himiko began to turn decisively pale. “Oh, shit, shit, they are all gonna die! The boss man wants to attack the Tifari and the Grandfather at the same time?! That will literally get them all killed!” “Why?” Shoto frowned. “Can you clarify?” “Shit!” Himiko squeaked. “Oh god, where do I even… First off, the Tifari’s got every single noble house there, and these guys don’t just eat regular people, they eat the best people! One goddamn noble is stronger with a whole collection of quirks bigger and badder than any of the normal guys! And the stupid Grandfather is the most powerful human being and I don’t just mean in, like, politics and shit, he’s got some crazy invincible quirk! Every single Grandfather or Grandmother has been top-tier crazy insane powerful! We’ve only been ever been able to kill one of ‘em, and all the stories say that it was mostly by sheer luck!”

“Oh.” Mei balked at memory. “That’s why you didn’t want us to attack that noble that came at us.”

“Vidame’s are low rank,” Himiko physically shuddered. “But it would’ve been really bad, yeah. And he would’ve called for backup and then it just would’ve… Ugh.”

“Okay.” Shoto took in a breath. “To summarize, they intend to launch an attack on the two most secure locations in that universe, right next to each other, with the most powerful super-soldiers at both places at the same time while also rescuing three people.”

“They are all gonna die!” Himiko said again. Then, she sat down hard on a couch, limbs shaking. “I gotta get back, I gotta help ‘em…”

“But they sent us a message.”

This time, eyes turned to a spikey-haired vertette.

Mei instantly saw what Midoriya was saying. “Yeah. Kacchan, at least, is looping us in. Can’t be just to let us know not to worry, because this would do the opposite of that.”

“Are you saying,” Shoto frowned. “That they want us to get involved?”

“Not us.” Mei said at the same time as Midoriya. She stopped and smiled at him. “Go ahead.”

“The Pro Heroes that are still here.” Midoriya said, deep in thought. “And possibly the police. The police already know that you all exist, that this other universe exists…”

“A joint multi-universe combined… Effort… Thing?” Mezo said with a blink. “Do we even know where this Tifari is gonna be?”

“I do.” Himiko sat up straight. “I can use this map thingie… That’s where our HQ is at?”

Mei tapped a few buttons; the outlines of the city streets and buildings vanished, leaving only a generic terrain outline.

“Oh shit.” Himiko stared in sheer amazement. “Oh, yeah. Yeah, I know where everything is.”

“The only thing,” Mei said with a frown. “Is that I have no way to send them a message back. Not without –” She stopped at sudden recollection. “…Hagakure has Ojiro’s cellphone. If we can get another portal opened, just for a second, just to put a phone through and send a text…”

A stunned silence fell over them.

“This is bonkers.” Himiko summarized the situation pretty well. “We’ve been trying to put an assassination plan together for forever. This is batshit bonkers and this can be so good!”

-------------------------

Honestly, this was completely ridiculous.

Mr. Compress was currently in, as far as anyone could tell, a comatose state. At first, they had thought that he just needed to rest after letting out the last of the orbed men and women. He had already been on an IV drip since they had shown up at the hospital, had been vomiting the entire time, and who knows how he had barely held together until he allowed himself to pass out.

It had mystified everyone. Hell, it had mystified his own copies, who – although duplicates and had all of his memories – had no idea that their original could go that far and do that much.

But now here they were. With their original in a coma, EEG equipment hooked up to his head and a faint beeping from the heart monitor. For some reason, the Wild Wild Pussycats had pulled in favors to get him in to a private Hero-reserved hospital suite. Even after everything.

One of the copies still had a few orbs to release. The other, though, was left to his own devices. The hospital, knowing full well that they weren’t ‘real people’, still wouldn’t let them end themselves. For now, it made little sense to argue; it wasn’t as if they had anywhere they desperately needed to be.

So, the copy did what he knew the original would have wanted. They were, after all, the same person. Technically. Sort of.

He took the real Compress’s cell phone and made some calls.

“You’re back?” Shigaraki’s hoarse voice came from the other end. “Honestly, I’m impressed you made it back in one piece.”

“That’s an ironic turn of phrase, actually.” The Compress copy felt just a twinge hysterical but stopped himself from laughing. “I’m a Twice-produced copy. The real, well, me is in a coma.”

A long beat of silence came from the other end of the line.

“What happened?” Nothing in Shigaraki’s tone had changed. No surprise, no compassion, but there was no anger either. This was potentially a good thing.

“We had to compress a very, very large amount in a very short time frame.” The copy rubbed his face; this was already turning in to an awkward conversation by virtue of how bizarre it was to explain. “All of them alive. But once they were all released, it must have taken a toll on him.”

“Ah,” Shigaraki let out an audible breath through the line. “Came across more of those monsters?”

“Well…” The copy gulped. “Not… Exactly. All of the compressed were from that facility I told you about. That… Ghoulish school.”

“So, you saved people.” Shigaraki sounded disappointed. He let out a deep sigh. “I thought better of you. Let me guess, you saw them weeping and crying and begging for help, and the heroes couldn’t get it done…”

“Not one of them did that, actually.” The copy found himself remembering the situation with some stunned disbelief that still persisted. “I told them about the limitation. They were ready to die, but they wanted the most powerful of them to survive. To get revenge on their behalf.”

“What?” Shigaraki’s voice tilted slightly. “They… Wanted the strongest to survive for…”

He didn’t finish the sentence.

A long moment of silence passed. Only the faint buzz of working electronics came from the phone.

The copy wasn’t sure if he should interrupt this quiet, to clarify more, or to try to get Shigaraki to understand. Back at that facility, he hadn’t necessarily cared, really, if any of those people had died – at least, the original Compress hadn’t, but his memories passed down through the copy – until that final moment. None of them had been the goal, none of them had mattered, they were just more casualties of life. Sad, yes, but he wouldn’t have gone to that effort if –

“I understand why you did this, now.” Shigaraki said after a very long time. “Did they all survive?”

“Yes.” The copy tried not to let his surprise come through. “He – I – we made sure of it. We also came across a resistance cell.”

“Oh, really?” Shigaraki sounded joyfully intrigued; he even laughed. “Please tell me they call themselves villains.”

“I believe they said that they don’t have a name.” This was turning in to a relief. “But I’ll ask Twice to suggest it if he decides to –”

Then, the phone beeped.

The copy was so stunned that he pulled the phone from his ear to stare at it.

“Uhm… I have another call.”

“What?” Shigaraki sounded as surprised as he felt. “From who?”

“I don’t know.” The copy still boggled. “Uhm… Mind if I…?”

“Go ahead, probably a spam call anyway.” Shigaraki said without any concern.

“All right, uhm, one moment.”

All it took was a single button.

“Uh, hello?”

“Hey!” A too-familiar voice, but something was off. “Hey, I’m Himiko, uh, from the other universe, you gave me your calling number at the hospital and I borrowed a phone, so…”

“Oh. Oh, actually, I’m one of the copies.”

“Yeah, I figured.” He could almost hear the shrug. “Hey, it looks like my guys on the other side are gonna pull something stupidly big. I know the real you’s in a coma, but if any of your friends wanna help out…”

“What sort of ‘big stupid thing’ did your allies have in mind?”

“Regicide.”

“… Ah.” The copy took a breath. “Can you call me back in ten minutes? I’ll loop you in on a three-way call.”

“I don’t know what that means, but sure. Thanks!”

A click.

The copy pressed a button.

“So I just received an interesting call…”

--------------------

Planning a militarized strike was, to say the least, no small feat. If anything, having only a few short days to put an attack of this scale together was something that would take intense focus and input from multiple parties; it was no surprise that the first couple of days went slow. It wasn’t too dissimilar to how things went back home, in the few wide-scale assaults Aizawa helped the police with. In those days, though, there had been a great deal learned about this resistance.

Earlier suspicions about their limited numbers had proven themselves to be true; even with the use of high-powered explosives, incendiary devices, and the few useful quirks that they had available on hand, they were stretched thin. To launch both of the attacks that they wanted, it stretched them even thinner. That was not even taking in to account the children of these resistance members; there were startingly few of them, but there were several of both numbered and number-free little boys and girls around. If their parents died in this assault, they wouldn’t fare well in the aftermath.

It didn’t help that – and Aizawa hated to admit it – but, as Pro Heroes, they were a little bit out of their depth.

They were not trained to be part of any military. Pro Heroes tended to be mostly independent agents – not counting teams, not counting the occasional grouping together for missions – and were essentially officers for urban and rural environments. The world they had left hadn’t seen a real war since the quirk explosion, there simply hadn’t been a need for it. The expertise that they ended up with was, as a direct result, slanted in that direction. Still, no matter how the plan was set – on this third day, they had four different possible formations with critical details still missing from each – this was going to be, at the very least, a clusterfuck.

What was the most surprising part, however, was just how invested certain people were in this. Given his counterpart’s upbringing, Aizawa had thought that Shota would be kept on the sidelines strictly from severe, complete lack of experience. On the contrary, he was there – with the rest of them – at every meeting. His input was at a minimum, but he was there, expression focused the entire time and occasionally saying a few words.

Similarly, he had thought that Spinner would have bailed at the earliest opportunity. The villain had come here with only one goal in mind that just happened to line up with theirs. Spinner, as Aizawa had expected, had been intensely motivated about the rescue involving the Tifari – considering Toga would most likely be there, this was anticipated – but the lizard-like man had then, much to every Pro’s surprise, put as much energy in to the discussions involving the possible rescue from the Grandfather’s house. Quite a few notable ideas involving back alleyways and odd routes had come from him, in fact, brought about from what Spinner had simply called a ‘rough childhood’.

All of this, Aizawa could have gone with. The more help, really, the better. He could have grit his teeth and bore working with a villain.

What he really disliked, though, was the involvement of the children. Of Katsuki, Hagakure and the rest of the teenagers.

At first, he had tried to put up some argument, but Sorahiko wouldn’t hear it. They were necessary, was the claim. After the first meeting, Tenya had been pulled in and from there it was just a lost cause. He was no longer in charge. It was, at the least, annoying.

By the late afternoons, bordering on the evening – at least, by the clocks, as sunlight didn’t reach in to the resistance’s hidden headquarters – everyone wrapped up the hours of exhaustive planning and debating. They were slowly making progress, but slow was better than nothing.

From there, they wound down in the way countless other soldiers must have over the endless course of time. They played.

There were only a fraction of electronic devices – old, cobbled together hand-helds from the remains of centuries past that only played some version of pong – but there were plenty of card games and board games. Some were familiar, but most were things that they must have created themselves over the years, with rules hand-written and game pieces carved from wood and stone.

Those nights were when things quieted down and they were the most relaxed.

“I’m not telling that story again.” Tenko shook his head at his sister as she passed by but didn’t take his eyes off of the cards in his hands. “Every time I tell it, it just sounds more and more stupid.”

“Come on!” Hana laughed as she sat down across a board game from another young woman. “There’s new people here! They haven’t heard it!”

“It’s stupid.” Tenko rolled his eyes. “I seriously doubt that people from another universe want to hear about our little escapades.”

“Ooh,” Hawks grinned cheekily from the same circle of poker-players. “Escapades, huh?”

“Don’t encourage her.” Tenko said seriously, but he was trying not to smile.

The differences between this Tenko and the twisted Shigaraki a universe away continued to astound. Aizawa could still hear the glee in that same voice from U.S.J. sometimes, before that long stint in the hospital after having his head pounded in to the pavement.

“If it’s anything inappropriate for children,” Aizawa decided that he wasn’t going to let unpleasant memories get involved in this; Tenko was not Shigaraki. “Then maybe it should be left unsaid.”

“Excuse me,” Katsuki somehow heard it from across the room, from a huddle with the other teenagers around one of the mysterious hand-drawn board games. “We’re not kids! We’re grown-ups!”

“Oh my god, you just said ‘grown-ups’.” Kyoka laughed from his side.

“Adults, we’re adults.” Katsuki hissed at her. “Shit, I’ve been around actual little kids for too goddamn long…”

“To be fair,” Tenko chuckled. “My sister and I were younger than they were when we left home and joined this merry band.”

“Now that you mention that,” Aizawa looked at the young man and allowed his eyes to wander to that bare neck. “We’ve been wondering –”

“About the numbers?” Tenko raised a brow but didn’t seem offended. “Or lack of one? Yeah, I think you can guess that we weren’t born here. We were born to the ‘free’ humans. Lived in the city, even.”

“You lived in a city?” Spinner was the one to ask, so startled that he nearly dropped his cards in the process.

“The city.” Tenko gave him a nod. “Most of the maps of the inner districts came from us. Hana, how old were we when we left?”

“You were twelve,” Hana answered nonchalantly from her own game. “I was fifteen. We were idiots and didn’t pack enough food and we almost starved to death. Good times.”

Tenko shook his head. “We planned for four years and then we almost died because twelve-year-old me thought we could survive on pre-packed grilled cheese sandwiches and lunch-sized milk cartons.”

Aizawa stared at him. “You started planning an escape when you were eight?”

“Well,” Tenko took in a hiss of a breath. “I was a little kid, I was mad, I snuck out of the house, and I saw things I shouldn’t have, and, well…”

A beat of silence passed. Tenko scratched at his neck.

“We saw a Tifari.” Hana clarified, tone suddenly subdued. “We saw the opening ceremony. We saw the Queen, a little older than us, stab someone through the chest on a fancy dinner plate. We didn’t know that they ate people before that.”

A quiet hush came over the group.

“So, yeah.” Tenko let out a breath. “Told you they wouldn’t want to hear about our escapades, Hana.”

There was something important missing from the story. Even as generic as it was, with horrific detail that could be filled in strictly from context clues and imagination, there was what felt like something big removed from the set scene.

“How did you get out?” Aizawa frowned. “Your parents weren’t watching you?”

Tenko blinked up from his cards. None of them had played the round yet. “The city has this program for the free humans. I think to avoid people getting bored or restless, they let people go outside of the gates to hunt. Deer, birds, that kind of thing, to supplement the food supply. They even let little kids go. We went to a summer camp for a couple of years for it.” A short, bitter laugh. “All we had to do was sign up, successfully come back a couple of times to avoid suspicion, and then we just… Left.”

“Could people sneak in using that method?” Aizawa asked.

“Not with numbers on their necks,” Tenko stared at him thoughtfully. “But without them, we could possibly sneak in or out before or after the Tifari. It’s sort of a federal holiday, everything shuts down during the fes –”

A loud chime interrupted everything.

It was a cell phone text.

From the huddle of game-playing teenagers, Hagakure let out a scream and dropped Ojiro’s cellphone on the floor; already sitting on the ground, it didn’t fall far and left no damage.

The screen was lit.

------------------

Once he was absolutely certain that Toga wasn’t going to try to kill him, Ojiro decided to take a solid look around.

Sure, Toga still threatened to hurt him. She waved that toothbrush-shank around and giggled once in a while, but it didn’t seem like too big an issue. She lunged at him a total of twice and he had been pretty sure it had been just to try and get him to jump; when her scare tactics didn’t work, she backed off and sat by the door, toothbrush in her hand, waiting for the next attempt to escape. She didn’t even try to loop him in on her plans.

Well, better for him, really. It gave enough time to get his bearings.

In the end, there wasn’t much to get out of it. Ojiro had the feeling that Toga must have already done the rounds, had already been in to every nook and cranny, but she had said absolutely nothing about what she may have found. In the end, what he saw came fresh and first hand.

Their cell was not that big of a closet; just enough for the six beds barely touching each other, the toilet and the sink. Considering the size of the demons, it was maybe enough for a dozen suits or so to hang in, if that.

In one corner, he found the remains of a board game. The ‘board’ itself was carved in to the floor and it wasn’t a game he recognized. Next to it on either side were a small pile of pebbles; half of them were marked red with what looked like blood. A tally mark was on the wall at the base of the board. Someone had spent a long time playing with it, judging by how many lines there were.

Not too far off of that was the remains of a completely different wooden toothbrush shank. It was dirty and a cocoon of spiderwebs kept it snug to the floor and wall. It must have been there for a very long time.

Along the bottom of one wall were carvings. They were childish-looking stick figure drawings; a woman with curly ram-like horns and a long dress, a couple of what might have been little kids and a heart with ‘H + D, BFFS’ carved inside of it.

Briefly, he leapt to the top of the room, perching on the hanger pole with use of his tail and arms. He wasn’t sure what thought he might find all the way up there – Toga couldn’t even get up there, most people couldn’t without the right quirk – and he wasn’t sure if he was surprised or not to find more signs of other people that had been held here. He was, at the least, a little sad.

More carvings. More drawings. Someone had gotten hold of crayons at some point and had left a pretty good illustration of a dove on the ceiling. Maybe someone with wings had done it, or someone that could stick up there long enough to get it done.

From there, Ojiro went back to the floor. The last place he checked, feeling cold and hollow in his gut, was under the beds.

He found it by accident. Light from the single ceiling bulb bounced in just the right way that he noticed that something had been carved underneath one of the beds. He shuffled underneath, taking note that Toga was silently watching his every move, expecting to find another drawing from some other kid that had long since died.

The idea had been half right; underneath the bed, along one beam, was a long list of names. Hima, Kureko, Yamato, Hanami, Satoshi, Uma, Taiyuu, Fusa, Daisuke, it went on and on. Most of the names were set in to the wood awkwardly, but a name here and there came with the touch of someone with practice or a more precise, illustrative script. At the bottom of the list, with the same uneven scrawls in katakana as most of the others, sat the name Himiko Toga.

Ojiro stared at the list for what felt like a very long time.

After a while, he looked out from under the bed. Toga, now, wasn’t looking at him, gaze aimed at the closed door. She was, though, still holding the shank. “Hey, uhm… Can I borrow that?”

Toga looked up sharply; she frowned, looking less crazed than before, but walked over to hand it to him.

Neither of them said anything at all while Ojiro added his own name to the list. He wasn’t really sure what he felt when he did it, some mix of sadness, anxiety and apprehension. This was, at the least, at least some record that they were here; that they existed in this place, however briefly. Some sign to whoever might come next that… Well, they were here. It was somehow very important to let the next ones know, to add his own name, though he couldn’t pinpoint why.

“You don’t think there’s a way out.” Toga said suddenly while he was still carving.

Ojiro stopped for a moment. Then, he continued digging the katakana strokes, ignoring the bits of wood that fell on him as he did so. “I… I saw the city around this place when they brought me in. Even if we got out of this room and got past everyone who might be in this house, where would we go? We’re not exactly small.”

Toga let out a noncommittal noise.

He heard more than saw her sit down on another one of the beds.

“And you’re telling the truth that you saw my friends?” Toga asked quietly.

“Yeah.” Ojiro finished the carving, he gave it a once-over just to make sure it was legible. Or legible enough, anyway; it was a decent enough distraction from the heavy pit in his gut. “Yeah. I don’t think it helps now, though.”

“Heh,” A breath of a laugh came from the blonde. “Didn’t think the whole ‘enemy of my enemy’ crap would ever play out with my guys. I mean, not again, anyway.”

‘Again’? Ojiro debated if he really wanted to know the details or if it was better not to know.

“Guess it could’ve been worse.” Toga let out a breath; he looked over in time to see that devilish grin cross her face. “I mean, you’re kinda cute.”

Ojiro jolted so suddenly that he smacked his head on the bottom of the bed. A touch dazed, he shuffled out. “No. No, I’m not.”

“Wha –” Toga sputtered, but still grinned. “Oh, come on, you don’t have the whole high cheekbones or cute freckles thing going on, but you’re cute!”

“From what I hear, you stab people that you like, so no thank you.” Now, Ojiro debated if he wanted to jump back up on the clothes hanger. Just in case.

“Not all the time!” Toga let out a cackle. “But, hey, maybe if we get to know each other a little better…!”

Ojiro leapt. From atop the beam, he settled himself by wrapping his tail and legs around the metal. It was almost comfortable.

“Okay, that’s adorable.” Toga cackled. “You’re like a cat!”

From the top of the closet, Ojiro wondered if he could maybe, just maybe just spend the rest of his life up there.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Ojiro was well and truly surprised that Toga didn’t try to do anything to him. There had been the expectation that she would try to do something from the moment he saw her. At least, from all the stories that he had heard, he had anticipated far, far more than what had happened over the past couple of days. Granted, she had been on the off-side of the stability chart, often waving that shank of hers around seemingly from boredom, but she hadn’t tried to stab him with it. Yet. Well, okay, she had made fake lunges and some threats that were barely substantial, but it hadn’t been anything serious. She clearly found the fake threats funny, though. Him, less so, but they were both stuck in here, so there wasn’t much he could do about it. Was she just bored? Not that he could blame her; there was nothing really to do in this closet. Cell. Space. It hurt, a little, to think about where they were and what was likely going to happen in a few days. So, he squashed the anxiety and lingering depression down and thought about other things. Like Toga. And how she actually gave him privacy, looking away when he had to use the toilet, how she didn’t try to hoard the food that the demons gave them – Ojiro thought that she would have done so simply, again, out of boredom – and, by all accounts, was surprisingly nice to him. Kind of. Sort of. She wasn’t mean, at least, and she could have been. Considering who she was and how she literally tried to kill people he knew in the past – a universe away, a lifetime ago – Ojiro was well and truly surprised that he hadn’t been murdered in his sleep. A couple of days in, Toga moved away from her stalking position by the door. Even after their conversation, she hadn’t been ready to give up on murdering that demon woman that ran the place, but over time she looked more and more… Frustrated. And upset. Ojiro stared from his bar perch – it had become weirdly comfortable up there – and said nothing at the most recent attempt. The demon had knocked her back as usual, picked up the dishes from their last meal, and then left. Toga let out her usual angry yell and retrieved her shank from the floor. Another expected failure. What was there to say at this point? Toga didn’t even look at him. She knew he was up there but she didn’t look at him. She did, though, for the first time after one of these events, wander around the room. She eventually stopped by that board game etched into the floor. “Hey, I know this game!” Toga’s voice pitched with surprised joy. Ojiro stared at her for a few seconds. Was this the first time she saw that thing? Hadn’t she looked around at any point? She had been here before him, what had she been doing this whole time? He was so surprised that he didn’t know what to say. A single sputtered word got itself out. “What?” “Yeah, it’s that really old game!” Toga sat herself on one side of the floor-etched markings. “Oh, man, ages ago, we did a museum heist and I disguised myself as a curator lady that worked there. I had to google all sorts of shit.” There was a brief moment where Ojiro debated with himself if he really wanted to know why the villains needed to break in to a museum and what they had stolen. Or had tried to steal. Was it a story he wanted to know? After a moment, Ojiro decided that he didn’t. He did decide, though, to jump off of his perch, if a little on edge; for all he knew, Toga was planning something and wanted to lure him down. “And this board game was in a museum?” “Pretty sure it’s the same one.” Toga shrugged; she picked up some of the blood-marked pebbles. “Yeah, some rando asked about the game and I had to pretend to know what I was talking about. It’s, like… Ur or Ul or something. Looks just like it, but who the heck cares? I’m bored. We can make rules up.” ‘We’? Ojiro couldn’t tell if she was serious or not. She wanted to play a game? Here? Now? He must have been staring. Or maybe it was because he hadn’t moved. Either way, Toga stared right at him and let out a deeply dramatic sigh. “Oh, come on, I promise I’m not going to stab you.” Somehow, saying it out loud didn’t make it sound less like a thing that might not happen. Still, there was something in Toga’s eyes; she looked… Tired. It was a feeling Ojiro knew far too well. That endless exhaustion, that constant trying, the anger but also that sadness, the homesickness and missing his parents and friends… That wasn’t for now. There was another squashing of the hurt that threatened to rise up. He didn’t want to deal with it; not right now. Ojiro still wasn’t sure about her motivations, but he sat down on the other side of the board anyway. A deep frown crossed his face at a new look at the game pieces; half of the pebbles were unmarked, but the half that were… “I guess you want the bloody ones?” “Oh, that’s not blood.” Toga shrugged but did pick up one of the red-marked pieces to peer at it. “I think it’s from a marker. Maybe one of those highlighting pens.” “What?” Ojiro blinked but felt relief at the notion that some poor kid hadn’t gone through the trouble of bleeding all over these things. But now that he thought about it… “There’s crayon drawings on the ceiling. How did they get…?” “Maybe they asked.” Toga let out a small, bitter laugh. “Maybe they straight up just asked the big spooky assholes for stuff. Better than just… Waiting.” She paused. A slightly manic glint went off on her eyes. “I’ve been thinking about that, actually.” Uh-oh. Ojiro knew it was a mistake to come down from his perching spot. He knew he could likely still get up there before she tried anything, but he didn’t immediately move away. “O-oh?” “I know a lot about blood,” A dangerous grin was spreading across Toga’s face as she spoke. “And I can tell ya right now that they don't kill people in this stupid room. It’s a pain in the ass to get blood stains out of wood and there’s no residual marks or anything, so they must’a brought people out of here to kill ‘em. So I’m thinking we ask ‘em for a cup or something and I can get a whole lot more of your blood to store it in and you teach me how to use your tail and when they take us out of here, we bail!” Didn’t they already have this conversation? About how there was a whole city out there and that they couldn’t exactly hide? Wait. He missed an important part of that there. “How much blood is ‘a lot’ of blood?” “Like,” Toga shrugged. “A quarter of a cup? I don’t need to keep your quirk for too long, just to Tigger-bounce the hell out of here. You said my friends were in this stupid universe, right? I betcha once we’re out, they’ll meet up with us. Then it’ll be an easy-peasy escape!” He still didn’t believe that there was a way out of here. The demons were bigger, faster and a great deal more dangerous than either of them. He had tried to tell her before that no one knew where they were, let alone the Pro Heroes or the villains. Yet, if he tried to turn her down, Toga could just as easily stab him with that shank and take as much blood as she wanted and, outside of beating her up because they were both trapped in this room, there wasn’t much he could do about it. It was less trouble to just go alone with this plan of hers. Ojiro shifted in place uncomfortably anyway. “Sure.” “And you’ll teach me how to walk?” Toga stared at him, still with that knife-sharp grin. “I think I can figure out the rest after I can balance like a normal person.” Ojiro felt his eyes shudder a little; there was so, so much more than just ‘balancing’ with his tail. So much. So many people over the years had looked down on his quirk for being ‘just a tail’ and he could remember being very small and his mother teaching him how to balance, comforting all the while that the other kids were just jealous –Not right now. Nope. Bury that for later.Still, there wasn’t much of a point in getting in to a fight about this. His gut did clench a little, though. “Sure.” “Yay!” Toga physically raised her fists in the air as she yelled. When her arms fell, she took a deep breath and had a pleased smile on her face. Her eyes sparkled again and it sent him instantly on edge. “So,” Half of the game pieces were pushed in his direction; the plain, unmarked ones. “You dating that invisible girl?” “What?!” Ojiro physically jumped at the unexpected question. “What?!” Toga rolled her eyes. “You mentioned her name. You said you gave her your phone. I had to memorize all your names and faces, I know who Hagakure-chan is!” The suffix added to her name sounded all wrong coming from this villain. “It’s – what –” “You’re blushing…!” Toga let out a giggle. “Oh, come on, it’s fine. She’s not high on any of our kill lists.” That did absolutely nothing to calm him down. Ojiro sputtered and debated if he should go back to the ceiling. “It’s… Complicated!” “Isn’t it always?” Toga let out a deep, breathy sigh. “But she came after you, huh? So romantic!” What was this conversation? What was happening right now? Ojiro found himself rattling his brain trying to figure out how to steer the heck away from this topic. Was this what girls talked about when in intense, possible-life-or-death situations? Was this just a girl thing? “Wh-what about you and your villain friends? They came after you, too!” “Oh…” Toga wasn’t even almost set off balance; she was still smiling, but something in it had shifted. It looked more… Natural. As if there was a normal, not-insane girl in there. That crazed glint was gone, if only for now. “That’s… Different.” “Different?” Ojiro frowned, still ready to jump up and away. She paused, and the smile turned sad. “Yeah. Different. They’re, like… Big brothers. I was an only kid growing up, so it’s nice to have people that actually look out for you, you know?” That was a piece of unexpected information. Ojiro frowned. “What about… Your parents?” Wasn’t she around his age? “Heh.” The smile went back to looking crazed. So much for that. “Just ‘cause someone’s related doesn’t mean they’re gonna be good for you. You know that old saying, right? The blood of the convent’s thicker than the water of the womb. And I know lots about blood!” He had never heard that version of the phrase before. For a moment, Ojiro could only stare at her. Was he supposed to ask further? Did he even want to know more about this insane villain girl? It made a sort of sense that her parents would have been terrible people, considering who she was. It was also sad. He couldn’t even imagine it, not having people in his life to cheer him on; his own parents had been nothing but supportive his whole life, often to the point of embarrassment. They were probably besides themselves with worry. Oh, dammit; he had been proud of himself for keeping his emotions in check over these past few weeks, of not thinking about the his family and his friends. He missed his parents – he missed his mom, and he knew how cliché it was, but he did – and this not-even-real-conversation was threatening to make it all come tumbling out. “Hey.” Toga stared at him, looking confused. “You don’t gotta freak out about it. I left my parents behind ages ago.” Her eyes squinted. “Or is this a hero thing, where you freak out about sad sob backstories?” Ojiro really wanted to answer her. He wanted to tell her that he honestly didn’t care about where she came from or what kind of family she once had, but the very word ‘family’, bouncing along his own mind, cracked something. Once things started to fall out, he couldn’t stop the flood. The only thing he saw was a briefly alarmed look on Toga’s face before he got up. There wasn’t anywhere he could go, but the beds offered at least a partial wall and he sat down on one of them, back to the villain and the game pieces. There weren’t any words. Ojiro didn’t even try to say anything; he couldn’t put a sentence together. He was, much to his chagrin, unable to stop from suddenly crying. The more he tried to stop himself, the worse the sounds coming from his own chest were getting. “…Shit.” Toga’s bare whisper was somehow very loud. “Come on, pull yourself together!” That didn’t help. It did, however, spark some anger. “As if you…” Words were still difficult to string together and he didn’t want to look at her. She definitely heard that sob, though. Further away, Toga took a deep breath. “Listen, I know this shit sucks, but we got a plan, okay? I don’t intend to let these jerks take me out.” It was quiet for a moment. He was the only one making sounds; they were noises that he hated and couldn’t squash down. Why couldn’t he stomp it down like he had been doing for so long? Movement came from around him. Ojiro felt more than saw Toga sitting on the bed next to him. He began to move, to get up and get away, but one of her hands caught his arm to pull him back down. The other hand grabbed his jaw. Ojiro was so stunned that he flinched and tried to pull himself away; her grip was like iron. “Look at me.” Toga forced his eyes to meet hers, golden irises intense and almost blazing. “We’re going to get out of here. You’re going to teach me how to use your quirk and we’re going to meet up with my friends and we’re getting the hell out of here. You got that?” Words completely failed; Ojiro felt his brain sputter. The hand on his jawline clenched; it didn’t hurt, but the pressure was there. “Say that you get it. That we’re getting out of here.” “I –” Ojiro sputtered; talking only made the fingertips dig in all the more. “I – I, we’re getting out of here…?” The hand on his face slowly let go. “Good job. You can still cry if you wanna, though.” Toga, then, let go of his arm. “Crying’s good. Let’s all the bad stuff out.” Somehow, that helped to calm him down. At least a little bit. Ojiro took in a few rattling, deep breaths. “You’re not going to tell me to ‘be strong’ or something? To suck it up?” “What’s strong about not crying?” Toga smiled, but it was the sad sort. “Those stupid heroes are the people that say not to cry. All Might’s the guy saying to keep on smiling, right? Always sounded crazy to me. Feeling stuff isn’t a bad thing.” After that, Toga didn’t try to offer any more advice. She didn’t move away from the bed either, though. She only sat there and let him cry everything out. ---------------------  Amongst the battle plans and the mechanics of guerilla warfare, there was, unexpectedly, some history lessons thrown in. At least, what counted for history lessons; the resistance only knew so much about their own world, about how things ended up the way that they had. There were scarce few books on the subject and those that existed were incomplete at best, as history books tended to be. What was important, though, was what they knew about their enemy. The nomu of this world, the creatures in charge of everything, and the humans that freely helped them do it all. How the nomu spared some families, if only to put them in charge of subjugating the rest; but a slave at the top was still a slave nonetheless. None of the importance was lost on Hagakure. At least, she thought she had a good grasp on what to do when the time came and how much she needed to know. Her quirk wasn’t top tier, she knew that, but it could be useful; the nomu, after all, still needed to see, still had eyes that could be tricked. And, as far as she was concerned, anything that could see relied at least a little bit on their vision. That, and there didn’t seem to be that big of a difference between the nomu of this universe and themselves. “The queen’s only twenty-three years old.” Kyoka mused aloud when they all got together at a break time. It wasn’t quite a meal break, but they all had cups of juice and water. “Huh. I figured they’d be crazy super immortals or something.” Ochaco shrugged. “Does it matter how old she is, though? I mean… She started murdering and eating people at Tifaris when she was a little kid.” “Kinda fucked up.” Katsuki took a long swing from his cup of water. “A murderer at twelve years old is fucked up even if she is a demon.” He paused. “Nomu. Monster. You know what I mean.” “Maybe it’s, like… Cultural.” Hagakure offered her two cents. “That she was raised to think it’s okay?” “Still fucked up.” Katsuki said with a shrug. “I mean, still wanna kill her, but fucked up.” Hagakure gave a brief glance around the room; for being a serious military-like organization, there were plenty of places just to relax and socialize. They were alone this time, just their little group, in this cavern with tables, benches and chairs. There was even what looked like an ancient pinball machine in a corner. It looked like it might fall apart, though, so she was afraid to touch it. “Hey.” Kyoka elbowed her gently in the side. “How’r you holding up?” Sometimes, Hagakure was glad that no one could see her face. It really helped to cover up the lies. “Oh, I’m okay. I mean, a little nervous…” The three faces around her didn’t look like they believed her one bit. “Your voice pitched,” Katsuki helpfully pointed out. “Tooru does that when she’s trying to lie, too. Hell, half the girls do it. And some of the guys.” “It’s okay if you need to talk.” Ochaco shuffled closer to her side on the bench. “I mean… You’re really close to Ojiro, right?” “I don’t want to talk about it.” Hagakure said as evenly as she could. “We’re going to get Ojiro-kun back and he’s going to be okay. I mean, it’s not like – ” The door opened. It let out aloud creaking noise when it did, like the hinges were breaking apart. They all looked up at the noise. Tenya stood there. Hagakure thanked whatever god was watching for this distraction. “Uh,” Tenya stood there and looked nervous. “Sorry. Didn’t know anyone was in – ” “Hey, fuckface,” Katsuki sat up straighter in his chair. “You’ve been avoiding us.” Tenya hung his head a little. He closed the door behind him. It let out another loud shriek. Hagakure made sure to turn herself enough that Tenya knew she was looking at him; sometimes, it just wasn’t enough to turn her chest partway around, especially wearing the short-sleeved shirt that she was. “I know it’s probably weird, but you can join us if you want! We’re not doing anything.” “Not the best idea…” Kyoka murmured in to her ear, lips pulled thin. She knew why Kyoka was nervous. Hagakure rolled her eyes and was glad that no one could see it. “Come on, you can all at least have a conversation. We’re in way too deep now, aren’t we?” Katsuki clenched the cup in his hand hard enough to dent it; it was a feat, considering it was made of metal. “What’s there to say?” Hagakure let out a breath. Boys, honestly. “You both want to rescue Izuku, right? And you haven’t seen each other in years, right? I mean… Isn’t this all about helping each other? That you’re all kind of a big family?” Ochaco and Kyoka both stared at her. Her words must have helped. Or, at least, she hoped that it did. Whatever it was, Tenya shuffled inside of the lounge and sat himself on a chair not too far away. It wasn’t close, but it was, well… It was there. They were getting somewhere, at least. “You weren’t even close to Deku.” Katsuki said with a snort. Tenya gave a slow nod. “You were his best friend for a while. I remember that.” “I remember Kacchan freaking out when he was,” Kyoka paused for a moment. “‘Adopted’ isn’t the right word, anymore, is it?” “Shipped out.” Katsuki growled. “Meat packed away and sent somewhere.” They all winced. “Except he wasn’t.” Tenya offered a nervous, uneasy smile. “He’s still alive and I’m honestly glad that you’re here to help us get him out. If he’ll remember any of us, it would be you, Katsuki.” “That close, huh?” Hagakure tried to let the smile known in her voice. “Back home, Bakugo and Midoriya have a thing going on, too.” “A thing?” Katsuki raised a brow. “Bet it was a hell of a lot different, though. I mean… I don’t even remember meeting Izuku. We were all babies.”-------------- From Katsuki’s earliest memories, Izuku was already there.
The house had far too many kids to really get along with all of them. Pair-offs, groups and little factions were a thing that happened of their own accord. The older kids played with the older kids, those with similar quirks gravitated towards each other, and gender boundaries happened on their own. One of the older children had, at one point, convinced all the younger ones that girls had a ‘cooties disease’; boys had been too afraid to mingle with the girls for years.

Most of the kids in the house, as far as very young Katsuki was concerned, were not even almost on his level. Even before his quirk came in, he knew that he was better than the rest. He was going to be strong, he just knew it. He was going to rise higher and become something better than all of them!

Or almost all of them. Izuku crawled after him in the playpen; Izuku stayed close even when they began to walk. Izuku was the only one to follow him in to the woods as soon as they were old enough to run.

Katsuki knew they would be best friends from the moment they could talk to each other.

The clearest memory Katsuki had was when they were either three or four years old. Before quirks, before everything.

They were hunting for rocks by the big pond. In these early days, Katsuki liked to use them as ammunition against trees as target practice. But only certain size and shapes of rocks would do and Izuku helped him find them, digging his tiny fingers in to the dirt alongside his own.

Sometimes, Izuku even took some target shots with Katsuki’s urging. He had been pretty good at it; he almost always hit the mark. Katsuki had been proud.

“Kacchan! I found a bunch!” Izuku squeaked from water’s edge. “Some of them are wet, though!”

“Ooh!” Katsuki rushed over with a basket – his ammo carrier, as he had called it, had even painted it dark green with black splotches in an attempt at a camouflage pattern – to peer at the stones. “Ooh, those are really good! We’ll dry ‘em later!”

Katsuki remembered picking up the rocks. A bit of time faded until he noticed Izuku looking in to the water and holding a stick.

“Huh? ‘Zuku?” Katsuki stared.

“There’s fish!” Izuku gasped. “I don’t have string for a fishing rod, though…”

“A what?” Katsuki picked up his basket to make his way closer. Tiny fish swam in the greenish water. “What about my shoelaces?”

“Nuh-uh.” Izuku shook his head; big, green plumes of hair waved in the air. “It’s gotta be thin and strong. Shoelaces would fall apart and break!”

Back then, Katsuki had looked at his best friend in amazement. “Wow. I bet when you get your quirk, it’s gonna be some kinda mind power.”

“Huh?” Izuku stared at him, but he was smiling. “You think so?”

“You’re super smart!” Katsuki nodded. “And I’m gonna get something super strong! Maybe I’ll be able to lift super big things or… Or fly! But something big! We’ll be a super police team!”

“Kacchan!” Izuku had giggled. “If I get mind powers, I could be like the detective guy in the book! Sherlock Holmes!”

Katsuki had been completely enamored by the idea. “Super detectives!”

They had laughed, spending days throwing rocks at trees and playing games of strength that only the very young could put together. The group games of hide-and-seek had been tackled, for months, as ‘super detectives’, trying to use toddler-era cunning to outsmart the older children.

Sometimes, it worked. When it did, Katsuki was incredibly proud of both himself and his ‘detective partner’.

Then, the quirks started to come in.

There had been more than twenty four-year-olds in the house at the time. Their newfound powers came in slow and random; Tsuyu’s tadpole-like tail had been shrinking, but suddenly her tongue could stretch farther and her true frog abilities came in. Denki almost electrocuted several other children when he let out his first shock while swimming. Hanta’s grew in slow, but they all poked and prodded his elbows as they changed shape over the course of several weeks.

None of them forgot he incident with Koji and Mezo. None of them forgot Tenya screaming on the playroom floor as jets grew out of his legs, either.

Then, after what felt like an eternity to Katsuki, his own quirk came in.

It happened during playtime hours. He had gotten frustrated trying to get a ball from the more mischievous older children when his hands erupted; a tiny firework of a blast startled them all.

After that, his self-confidence only grew. He could make things explode! With his hands! The greatest of quirks!

The others slowly gained their powers. One after another, like dominos falling in succession. Ochaco found hers by accident, floating a chair to the sky that never came back; she had cried apologies to an understanding sensei. Mezo had to be stuck in the infirmary for days when his arms began to sprout and he didn’t know how to stop it. Fumikage’s Dark Shadow caused nightmares when it erupted at two in the morning that very first time, screaming at nothing.

And Izuku waited. Katsuki watched him wait.

His fifth birthday rolled around and still nothing.

Then, Sensei Chiyo – flanked by her new young assistant, who would one day be Sensei Shota – brought Izuku to the infirmary for a checkup.

When the small verdette came back, tears strolling down his face, Katsuki had actually been worried.

Then, Katsuki had been angry.

“Quirkless?!” He remembered shouting so clearly, one of his sharpest memories. “What does that mean?!”

“Sensei Chiyo…” Izuku wiped his eyes on his sleeve. “Sh-sh-she said… I’m not gonna g-get a quirk…”

The other children around tried to sooth him – tried to tell him that a quirk wasn’t everything, that some of them had scary quirks, that Yuga needed to take medicine to control his stomach, how Mina had accidentally melted her favorite doll’s face, that they all still loved him – but Katsuki didn’t really remember any of their words, not who said what. Or how Izuku reacted to them.
All he remembered was the rage swirling in his chest. That the kid he chose as his best friend wasn’t strong at all, was weak and didn’t have a quirk and it all felt like a horrible betrayal. The universe had set him up as a joke, Izuku himself was making fun of him by not having a quirk to rival his own.
He was the strongest! The best! He couldn’t hang around with… Losers!

“You’re just a… A… Deku!” Katsuki remembered shouting it so, so very well. He remembered cementing that nickname.

He remembered the hurt in Izuku’s eyes.

Katsuki refused to be anywhere near Izuku for weeks after that.

The other children coddled the worthless deku afterwards and steered clear of himself and his temper tantrums. Katsuki had, at the time, preferred it that way; none of them were strong enough for him.

He never found out – never asked – who turned the ‘deku’ nickname in to something positive. But the other children used it lovingly, turned it in to something good, no matter how much he sneered it and tried to hurl it like a weapon at the green-haired boy.

The next sharpest memory came after Izuku’s sixth birthday.

Someone wanted to adopt Izuku. The deku was going to get a home and a family.

Katsuki remembered wailing at the announcement, at that dinner time that was meant to be something special. Of screaming about how unfair it was; why was a useless deku going away, but no one wanted him?! He was the strongest and greatest from the whole house! He was better than a stupid deku!

Sensei Chiyo had been furious. She had grounded him from playtime for a month and doubled his chores. The pain on Izuku’s face had been worth it.

Katsuki wailed for weeks. Complaints went up when anyone dared to get too close. He avoided everyone when he could.

He didn’t even stay up to see Izuku leave.

Later – years later, when the rest of the house forced him to change his behavior, when he looked back on it all – he regretted everything.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

The resistance kept what Aizawa could only guess was a great deal of information to themselves and, for the most part, this did not bother him. Discussions with the other Pro Heroes that had spent the past while in this other world had garnered a similar reaction from them in regard to the matter, though Hawks had needed a bit of convincing. There were centuries of history here – if not millennia – that would be impossible to explain with the time that they had. University college courses back home focused on condensing a brief period, sometimes as small as a decade, and needed months to drill in that information to their students; here, they barely had a few days to learn about everything. They took the minimum; a skimming of facts. It didn’t bother him that Sorahiko proclaimed bits of wisdom in the form of quotes from books that didn’t exist a universe away. It didn’t bother him that Tenko and Hana had jokes that everyone else but themselves apparently understood. It didn’t bother him that the people local to this place had to explain what certain nicknames, shorthands and abbreviations meant. Plans were made based on things that the very same resistance cell had done before anyone there had even been alive and there simply was not the time to explain why they did things the way that they did. It did bother him, though, when they were finally given their disguises. Going in to the nomu capital city – a supposedly sprawling place with the quaint name of Dawnbreeze City, and the very notion of ‘quaint’ used with ‘nomu’ made a part of his brain ache – couldn’t be done as humans. They were too obvious, the free humans that lived there had papers and IDs, none of those same humans had numbers on their necks and the reasons went on and on. They could, however, disguise themselves as nomu children. “Well,” Aizawa broke the silence that fell when they all saw the costumes. “This is unexpected.” “Uhm…” Hagakure squeaked uneasily. “Do I have to wear one, too?” “Better if you did.” Tenko scratched his neck and looked in the general direction of the invisible girl. “If we lost you in the crowds, it would be hell finding you again.” “Question,” Hawks hesitantly brushed a hand against the not-quite-eggshell-shade mask in front of him before pulling back. “Are these made from real kids?” “Some of them are.” Tenko nodded slowly. “We didn’t kill them intentionally. Things happened.” A single, mass shudder went through the teenagers present; even Katsuki looked visibly disturbed, jaw clenched and lips going thin. Aizawa looked over them all, just to make sure that they were handling this new information well enough; he had heard of new Pros falling apart at their first mission and most of these kids weren’t even close to trained. Hell, Hagakure was pushing it in that ‘trained’ department. But, as they had been since they’ve been here, they’ve seemingly been adjusting well. They took things as they came as well as any Pro he had seen. Aizawa shared a look with Hawks and Edgeshot – they all had gone in to protective-hero-mode over this lot – but there was nothing to say on the matter. He would, though, need to keep an eye on them; they were fine now, but they might fall apart later, once they were in the thick of things and the action went down. He wasn’t sure what to do about Tenya, though. Something had happened between the tall blue-haired boy and the rest of the teenagers, but he hadn’t asked what. There was, however, a visible strain between the group and the lone boy that had been part of this resistance for the better part of four years. Something that likely required heaps of therapy and Aizawa doubted he could get all of them to go a universe away just to talk to a hero-centric psychologist. Right now, the only thing they needed to do – the best that they could do – was to focus on the task at hand. Right now, they were as prepared as they were going to get, no matter the age. If anything, the only one having a problem at all was Spinner. The lizard-like villain stared at one of the masks – one that looked suspiciously thicker than some of the others – with absolute disgust on his face. Shota said something to the villain too low to hear; Spinner gave a double take from the mask to the man at his side several times but no sounds left either of them. Shota looked amused. Oh, a whole other conversation needed to happen with the other version of himself. Aizawa knew that he’d been procrastinating far more than he usually did – putting off what needed to be said – but, like every other moment before, this didn’t seem like the time or place either. It never seemed to be the time or place. Hopefully, they’d both make out of this whole mess alive and have a solid talk without all of this insanity. Though, as long as they were in this universe, things would likely never settle down. Not with the nomu/demons here. Not with masks made of their children that they’d have to wear to save their own. Aizawa had never seen a nomu child from this universe and had barely seen any of the adults, but he did recall the large, unblinking eyes, the horns and a mouth filled with shark-pointed teeth. These masks – all not quite the color of aged bones – had tiny solid horns in different spots, a painted-on fixture that barely passed as an eye, and no mouth at all. One of the masks had ram horns that were clearly glued on. The cloaks he had seen on the adults were miniaturized here, but in bright shades and had patterns inlayed on them. It took a moment to recognize the patterns on a couple of the pieces of cloth. It wasn’t too dissimilar to the outfits kids back home wore during festivals; they had the same flowing sleeves as the hakamas and kimonos and a neckline that wasn’t too far off. Closer to a Korean hanbok, perhaps, but the familiarity was disturbing. Which, again, made his head hurt a little. The idea of the nomu having holidays and celebrations… Aizawa stared at the painted eyes that clearly weren’t real, trying to think of other things. “Will they be fooled by this?” “They should be.” Tenko gave a curt nod. “Nomu kids don’t start off fully formed like we are. They grow their body parts over time. Half of them are blind with no eyes at all when they’re born. Hell, they can’t even speak until they’re teenagers.” “Which is good news for us.” Sorahiko said from a chair; he had been hobbling worse these past few days and Aizawa wondered if Gran Torino was having similar problems a universe off. “If any of the big ones try to talk to you, they won’t expect a response. But stick together, there’s gonna be loads of kids out there in packs, so you should fit right in.” Sorahiko had not been wrong. Once fully disguised in the bones of dead children – which added an odd sense of disturbing irony to the whole affair – they followed a similarly disguised Tenko out of their headquarters and down a barely visible path in the forest. After a couple of hours, the footpath led them to an actual road – and to people. Well, to nomu. To throngs of nomu of all heights and ages, families laughing together and silent babies wrapped in arms and carriages. Some rode in cars that looked purely ancient and never moved faster than walking speed, everyone strolling slow and leisurely. It wasn’t, by any means, a packed road; there was plenty of space to move and every one of the things they once called ‘demons’ looked relaxed in bright, ornate patterned floor-length outfits. There were several packs of small children – their own height – walking without any adults. Only the grown were making any noise at all. It was bizarrely picturesque. Aizawa, under his mask, took in a deep breath; they were walking in to a lion’s den. Underneath those large, loose sleeves, every one of those nomu had visible claws. The teeth were still there; just because they were likely civilians didn’t mean they didn’t pose a threat. “Stay quiet and keep close.” Tenko murmured just loud enough for them all to hear. “It’ll get louder the closer we get. We can talk more in the city.” They did as they were told. That didn’t mean that they didn’t look around, though. The nearest that Aizawa could tell was that this road must have connected the more rural areas to the city. Assuming that they had anything even close to a more familiar way of life, the nomu may very well have ‘lower income’ areas; if that was the case, then it was likely that those around them were of that sort. Maybe they made this road strictly for these holiday pilgrimages. It would explain why they didn’t garner an inch of suspicion and made it to the more populated areas without a single adult nomu stopping them. The closer they came to the city, the more sidewalk stations and festival stalls popped up; what was one every so often became a street-side string of shouts and calls. The smell of meat frying – god willing, not human meat – wafted through the air. Real nomu children stopped by stands bearing familiar games; fish-catching nets and balls thrown at targets. Aizawa spotted a few particularly small nomu, even shorter than themselves, struggling to eat what looked like shaved ice with barely functioning mouths as adults looked on and chuckled. None of the children made any noise, as Tenko and Sorahiko had claimed, but there were enough sounds made by the adults to make up for it. From there, it further grew more dense. Aizawa only became aware that they had fully entered the city by how thick the crowds were swelling and how loud the shouts were. He had to look up just to see the signs of urban life, of tall buildings big enough to house the creatures that lived here and of banners and laundry lines hanging between balconies. It wasn’t quite as immense as it was back home – there were no skyscrapers here, more Meiji than Reiwa by the looks of things – but it was a city nevertheless. “Okay.” Tenko eventually said, loud enough above the crowd to get everyone’s attention. He didn’t turn to look back at them, though; they had to keep moving not to get squashed by the slow-moving crowd. “Up ahead is a fork in the road. We’re taking a left and then ducking into an alleyway to the right. From there, we’ll be able to take a breather and head to our marks.” The plan was straightforward and simple; they were to separate in to two different groups. One was to head for the Grandfathers’ house and the other for the center of the Tifari. The latter had a great deal more security than the former; they needed to sneak through the back alleys and possibly climb a fire escape. It was something that was to be partially played by ear, but none of the higher members of the resistance had been bothered by that part of the plan. Everything else, naturally, but not that piece of minutia. Around them, the closer they got to they alleyway, the further they became from the nomu. Still, a large body lumbered past – smelling strongly of alcohol – and forced a few of their own to quickly dodge out of the way. Next to him, a body nudged his own. Aizawa recognized the mask. He took a deep breath. Now was, again, neither the time nor the place. Shota, however, didn’t seem to think the same. The mask tilted in his direction. “Aizawa.” Barely a whisper. “We’ll be splitting up soon. If you need to say anything, now is the time.” Dammit. Did he already know? Was he aware that he had eavesdropped on him the other day? “This isn’t really the time…” “When is it ever?” Shota’s voice sounded like he had the fake smile on. “I know you think of me like a younger brother, but you need to know that I’m an adult fully capable of making my own decisions.” Oh, he absolutely knew about the eavesdropping, then. Aizawa frowned deeply to himself. “You’ve been aware that I heard…?” “You aren’t Tooru.” Shota let out a small sigh. “I saw you. I asked Spinner not to say anything about it. I…” A pause. “I appreciate this strange relationship. It’s been a very, very long time since anyone looked out for my well-being. But we are quite literally the same age. Please trust my judgement. No matter what world I’m in.” Aizawa took a breath and gave a solid nod. The conversation, quick as it was, left an awkward pit in his gut. Still so far, so good, as far as everything else was concerned; even as they scurried in to that dark, small chasm between buildings, nothing stopped them. As far as Aizawa could tell, no one was even looking at them as they squeezed past wall-hugging pipes and a deep smell that he couldn’t quite place at first; like something burning but not from food. A look up revealed chimneys on top of the buildings on either side. “Okay.” Tenko said again. “Group One, head the rest of the way down between these buildings and past the next. You should each have a map with you.” Katsuki was the only one to give a curt not at the order, the entire mask over his face moving with the quick gesture. As soon as he started walking, the rest of the local teenagers – Ochaco, Kyoka and Tenya followed. Shota followed in the rear – looking back at him for just a moment – but headed with the children. The only adult to oversee the group. Aizawa glanced to Hagakure; he took the risk to lay his hand on her shoulder to give it a quick squeeze. Shota might not need his protection, but there were others that did. “I’m fine.” She insisted but it came more faint than usual. “Let’s just do this.” “Well said.” Tenko responded shakily; by his tone, he was barely holding on to the ‘leader’ persona, straying farther from what was known about Shigaraki. “Let’s go.” -------------  This was too easy. Katsuki couldn’t tell if he was being overly paranoid or not, but the plan was going a little bit too well. He thought that something would have stopped them by this point or at least given them a momentary pause. Instead, they just… Walked right in. The mask over his face smelled faintly of rot and he felt conflicted on the matter; part of him was revolted by the idea of butchered kids – no matter what species they were – because of, frankly, everything but another part of him felt a bitter satisfaction that it wasn’t only human kids that ended up killed young. That the enemy felt at least a piece of the loss that he did. That countless other kids on who knows how many of those farms did. Still, it felt good to take the mask off. Once past the alleyway, nothing separated where the nomu lived from where the so-called ‘free’ humans did. There was a marker, a street sign signaling it was a ‘human only area’ and that was it. It looked like the gated communities he had read about in books; the base of a hill lined with trees and shrubbery, short-trimmed grass and the faint smell of recent gardening. They hid their disguises in backpacks, though what they had underneath were practically costumes themselves. At least, it was nothing he would have been caught dead wearing otherwise; all buttoned, high collared shirts, shimmery sleeves, vests and slacks. Like the stuff Sensei wore in the house. The girls had skirts. What he had felt like a dress suit; it was a far cry from the comfortable single-layer things that U.A. had given them. No one was around. All of the nomu must have ben at the Tifari and dancing their monster asses out in the streets and the humans that lived here… Who the hell knew. It didn’t matter. Did it matter? Sensei was with them. Despite that, he wasn’t in charge; Katsuki was. He pulled himself straight, gave Sensei Shota a solid glare – still couldn’t trust him, Sensei still rankled him all wrong – and then looked to Ochaco, Kyoka and Tenya. Two were his sisters and he’d protect them with his life any day of the week but he still wasn’t sure how to feel about their long lost brother suddenly back from the dead. Feelings to deal with later. When everything was done. When they had Deku back. They marched up the hill. The pavement was made of uneven cobblestone and flanked by streetlamps, but they weren’t the same as the ones from the universe next door; it looked like they had giant candles inside, or at least the wicks of them sticking out from some kind of gunk. It wasn’t night yet; summer here was only a few weeks away and the days were longer. They were doing this in broad daylight. It didn’t take long to pass houses. Human-sized ones, not the towering masses that the nomu lived in. Doors and stairs made for people his size. The first few houses were small, almost like cabins, but the further they went, the larger they got. There might have been a correlation; the wealthier, more important humans lived at the top. Assuming money existed. Maybe it was a status thing. The Grandfather’s house was at the end. At the summit of this mountain. Lights were on in most of the houses. Halfway through the neighborhood, they began to see people. In front of one house, a few grown adults sat around a table. Two women and three men; the former in long skirts and button tops and the latter in vests and slacks – very similar to what they were wearing themselves. They looked relaxed; one woman held a cup of some sort of drink with ice and a flash from her hand shone blue. An ice quirk, probably. The group of adults relaxing on their front lawn looked towards them as they walked by. Katsuki braced himself, pulling the high collar of his own shirt over his neck. They all had something to cover the numbers, just in case, and if these people looked too close or maybe questioned who they were… The men and women looked away and went back to their conversation. It had been nothing more than a momentary glance. “Thank god.” Ochaco breathed next to him. “Perhaps there’s enough people here that the don’t know their neighbors.” Tenya jittered; by the way his fist clenched, he was barely keeping from doing the arm motions he started to do as a kid and never quite grew out of. “We don’t have much information about how things are run in this part of the city. We don’t even have a solid number to how many people there are.” “Better for us that they’re not paying attention to us, though.” Katsuki said with a snort. “Let’s keep walking.” The journey up was longer than he expected; he thought that there would be, at best, a few families living freely in the nomu capital. Instead, they passed by dozens of houses on both sides of the cobblestone street, progressively getting larger as they went. A few other families were on their front stoops or lawns, what sounded like a party came from one home and a young family even passed by them going the other direction. None of them so much as looked at them for more than a few seconds. A passing curiosity and nothing more. It felt far, far too easy. “Tenko did say that the humans here try not to ask questions.” Tenya said along the way but sounded just as mystified. Like he was trying to convince himself. “They don’t care as long as it isn’t a problem for them.” If they weren’t here on a mission from an underground resistance, this could have been a happy little stroll down a quiet street. Absolutely no one and nothing stopped them as they made their way to the Grandfathers’ house. It was, by far, the largest home on the hill. It was very much the mansions he had seen illustrations of in books; a gleaming, white monument with an extra wing on either side, eclipsing the house Sensei had raised them in by at least thrice the size. There was a fountain in front of the door and what might have been a large round driveway if there had been any cars or carriages in it. Katsuki stared at it for a moment. There were no guards or even a gate to protect it. It was just… Open. “Wow.” Ocacho sputtered. “I thought the stories made up the ‘mansion’ thing.” Kyoka let out a huff. “Our place at U.A.’s better.” “Supposedly, only the Grandfather lives here.” Tenya frowned. “Well, and Izuku, now, I guess.” “And the old man’s at the Tifari, right?” Katsuki looked over the building. “Let’s find out if he locks the doors here.” As it turned out, the Grandfather didn’t. Katsuki stared at the door as it swung open without the least bit of struggle. Even the others were quiet in their shock. All he did was turn the doorknob and there it went. “I… Just assumed we’d need to find a back door.” Tenya sputtered. “Or break a window.” “We can’t stand here, children.” Sensei Shota said with a suddenness that didn’t sound like himself; there was an edge of worry to his usually calm tone. He pushed at their backsides to usher them in. “We might have been ignored until now, but even they have to know that we’re not supposed to be at this house.” He had a point. Katsuki didn’t fight against the light shove. Sensei even closed the door behind them, gently shutting it with a barely audible click. It was an immense house. The area they were in – a lobby? Did houses have lobbies? – was vast and open and had to two spiral staircases on either side while still extending further in to the house. Open frames missing doors led to the wings on either side. Paintings large enough for the nomu to dabble on hung on the walls with glimmering gold frames. The only windows that existed were close to the extremely high ceiling, letting in streams of light from all sides. “This house is definitely haunted.” Kyoka said quietly. “Yeah,” Ochaco agreed. “I think I read those books too.” “Shit, this place is too big.” Katsuki frowned. “We might have to split up –” Then, they heard a creaking noise. Floorboards shifted above them. Both of the spiral staircases led to the same opening in the floor above. Katsuki picked one at random to sneak up, tiptoeing on each step. He wanted to rush; he wanted to run and pound his feet against the way-too-ornate carpet, but he didn’t know what was waiting up there. A hallway stretched before them; there was a light coming from the end of it, from one side of half open double-doors. Lights that were actually on, the fake kind from overhead and not sunlight. That was when the anxiety struck. Would Deku remember them? He had been six when he had been shipped out. Back then, Katsuki had been cruel to him, had been a sheer asshole when he was little, would Deku remember that? Would he hold a grudge? Would he remember the name calling and tantrums? Had he been holding that bitterness for this whole decade while who knew what was happening to him? Or would Deku have no idea who he was? It had been so, so many years, and the nomu could have done all sorts of things to him. Deku could refuse any sort of help at all out of fear, wouldn’t trust them enough to go with them, could be hurt right now… The hallway was well lit enough, but the light that came from the room ahead was like a beacon. In the dorms a universe away, someone had picked up a single-line joke from the television; don’t go in to the light. Katsuki heard it in the back of his head now. Yet, the only thing that waited past the heavy-looking fancy carved doors was… A library. At least, it looked very much like the library that they had grown up with. That one large room in the house that had all the books. Rows and rows of them were in front of them now, floor-to-ceiling, and even a few extra shelves in the middle of the room. With how large this whole place was, it didn’t feel crowded, but there were so many books. There was a desk deeper in the room. For some reason, it was facing the door. Sitting in it, several books propped around him on stands, sat a green-haired boy deeply engrossed in something he was writing, mumbling to himself almost loud enough to make out individual words on the other side of the room. It was him. Deku – Izuku was sitting there. He was reading. He looked… Healthy? He hadn’t even noticed them yet. Somehow, seeing him real and right there was a shock. Katsuki couldn’t move. Deku looked… Fine. He was wearing a similar outfit to his own, with nearly see-through sleeves and the same high buttoned shirt. Sure, he was looking thin and lanky, but even as a little kid he had been on the shrimpy side. But there was a solid blush on his face and he didn’t look starving. He wasn’t chained up in a dungeon or strapped to an operating table or – Wait. No. Deku turned to look at one of the books and the lights bounced off of a thin scar that cut clear across his forehead. There was also a missing patch of hair on the side of his head that showcased another cut, a place where the wild green strands couldn’t grow out of again. This was all still very, very wrong. Someone next to him moved. The floor underneath creaked. Deku stopped mumbling. Before Katsuki could think of what to do, the verdette boy he hadn’t seen in ten years stood up in a rush; somewhere along that movement, he had pulled a gun out, an old, tiny-looking thing that probably shot only one bullet at a time but was still just as dangerous as the machineguns Katsuki had seen on that screen in their dorm building. The gun fired. --------------- Somehow, despite how much the resistance had complained about the amount of security that there would be at the Tifari, no one had been watching the backsides of the buildings. For a proper view and for at least halfway decent access to the main grounds, they needed to get to the top of one of the closest buildings. The main event would take place on what was essentially a public square in the direct center of the city; had everything been human sized, the park might have been a humble little thing for children to play in and for the occasional street market to pop up. Aizawa had seen a number of exactly the same type of place all around Japan. The buildings here, though, were not like Tokyo. They barely rose above three stories, if they hit that – but three nomu stories were a far cry from the norm. Edgeshot had been the one to spot the pipe nailed to an outer wall. The bolted-in pieces were just big enough to get a solid foothold or handhold on. From there, they climbed up – they didn’t dare risk having Hawks fly, should a random civilian spot them – and, from there, got hold of a fire escape. The stairs were made for much bigger creatures, but it had been far from impossible to use. A little awkward, but by no means undoable. From there, they had a clear view of the grounds. “Looks like the Queen isn’t here yet.” Tenko said at a much more conversational level, though they kept the masks on for now. Someone could look up, after all, and spot them there. “She might not be here for a couple of hours. They usually time her speech before the feast for sunset.” There were, however, other nomu roaming about. They didn’t wear the same brightly colored wear as the rest of the citizens, instead donning large coifed collars and what looked like metal masks over most of their faces covered in filigreed designs; it was slightly reminiscent of museum paintings of the rich and nobles, or at least part of their fashion was. Some of them wore lines of feathers and crowns made of some sort of fur. The upper crust of nomu society. There was something else different about these nomu and it took Aizawa a moment to realize why. These wealthier nomu were thinner and taller than the ones he had seen in the general population. As well, they appeared to have mouths and lips that were far closer to human than the other way. He had the feeling that he knew exactly why that was. There were several small tables, but the largest of them – a long, ornately carved wooden beast that took up half of the park, surrounded by chairs that breathed expense and luxury – already had platters of food on them. Some of the dishes were easily recognizable; roast fish, bowls of noodles and fruit, plates of sushi and caviar set between glasses of what might have been wine. Most of the food was also recognizable for the wrong reason. Tenko let out a heavy breath audible from the mask. “That’s an entire roasted human body.” Spinner said uneasily. He then made a noise that sounded like a mix between a sputter and a wheeze. “That’s an entire roasted human body.” “Yeah.” Tenko said with a physical wince. “Yeah, it is.” Hawks moved closer to the edge of the rooftop. “Are all of those meat slices…?” “Yeah,” Tenko said again; still short, still curt. “Most of them. From high end premium farms. Some of them are actual animals. If we stick around long enough, they’ll bring out the punch bowl with human brains inside.” There was a long, heavy pause. “I’m not joking.” Tenko didn’t turn away from gazing at the feast below. From there, it took a while for anything, really, to occur. They stood on that rooftop for what Aizawa judged to be an hour. It might have been a little longer – perhaps a quarter past – when similarly richly dressed nomu brought out a new plate. It was larger, by far, than any of the others. Three of the creatures had to carry the gleaming, silver thing; it was easily half their height, covered in a cloche. It was set at the front of the table, by the only chair that resembled a throne. “There it is.” Tenko gestured to the giant covered dish. “They’re in there.” Aizawa frowned deeply; if hero work had taught him anything, it was that his instincts were usually on point and, at that moment, they were screaming that something was off. “Are we sure?” “The biggest plate always has the Queen’s dish.” Tenko looked to him then back to the feast below. “When the Queen comes out, she gives a speech before lifting up the lid.” Hawks made a disapproving noise. “I don’t know about the League girl, but U.A. trains pretty strong kids. Why aren’t they busting out of that plate right now?” “Yeah,” Spinner nodded, but his gaze was on the plate. “Himiko’s not the type to just wait.” Tenko paused. He moved to lift his arm but only got it halfway before slowly lowering it back down. “I… Don’t know. I’ve only seen this in person once and the guy they had on the plate was just… Depressed. Gave up, I guess. Didn’t fight it.” “Something’s wrong, then.” Aizawa began to look around; if there was something amiss – if the nomu here were expecting an attack – this could all be a trap. He refused to look at the roasted corpse on the table. There was a pause. “Are we sure,” Edgeshot said after a long pause. “That the Queen always has the children given to her still alive?” That was something that they had all been avoiding thinking about. “No.” It came from Hagakure; the normally invisible girl still had her disguise on but stood farther from the edge of the rooftop than the rest of them. “Hagakure…” Aizawa started. “No. Ojiro is still alive.” Hagakure said it firm. “Maybe he’s waiting for the right time to break free or something, but he’s in there and he’s still okay.” Underneath his mask, Aizawa let himself close his eyes for a moment. The resolute, unshakeable hope that the young heroes-in-training had could often be a detriment. Sometimes, there was no saving everyone. All Might and the Plus Ultra mentality aside, there were very often times where people still died. He hoped that Hagakure wasn’t going to learn that lesson today. “Then what do you suppose we do?” Aizawa asked her instead. “What? Me?” The girl not even old enough to drink sputtered. “I… I think that if they’re waiting for the right time to move, then we should wait for it. Wait for it and help them.” An approving noise came from Tenko. So wait they did.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Yesterday:
Despite having been living in this universe for over a month, there were things that Shoto still had trouble getting a proper grasp on. He knew, of course, that he wasn’t the only one – he saw his siblings along all the age groups struggling with different things now and again – but it still felt strange to have trouble with something that seemed so simple for other people. Or, at least, for the people that lived here.The local slang was one thing; it was almost a language barrier on its own, words with histories and micro-histories that he just had no experience with. At least the locals made attempts to explain every new word that came along with moving images on their phones that felt like an entire history lesson in and of itself. But there were deeper, harsher pieces of this world that seemed to have a hook in everything.Villains and heroes; for a while now, Shoto had decided to reduce it to ‘cops and robbers’; that was an idea he could understand, like what he had read in books back ‘home’. Criminals were something he could understand as existing. Not that he had any experience with that kind of thing; a universe away, they had never left the house and the grounds, had never seen a real police officer or a real robber. It was all abstract. It still was; imagination and illustrations on pages.Which was why he didn’t mention that the League of Villains had been in contact with them.The entire rescue mission and everything involved had been explained to everyone older than twelve by U.A.’s own staff; the calm, smiling presence of All Might – Yagi, the man told them to call him, his real, not-hero name – had explained over the startled exclamations of people in both 1-A and 1-B that, yes, the villains were helping. That, despite every horrible thing that they had done, they were working with the Pro Heroes that had gone. The idea that Himiko was not Toga had gone down easily enough, but the rest still clearly disturbed people.Shoto got the feeling that All Might didn’t know that Himiko had a phone – given by the Wild Wild Pussycats – and that she had been calling the League quite a few times since she had ended up in this universe.It would have been too much to ask people that had been on the wrong end of a murder attempt to talk to these so-called villains. Himiko, though, had asked him specifically to be with her on this call. From there, pulling in the one person that he knew would could damn well keep a secret and was a thousand times smarter than he would ever be felt like a no-brainer after that.In that late afternoon, with very little idea where his siblings a universe away were or how they were faring, Shoto sat on a couch next to Mei in a secluded part of the U.A. campus across from Himiko. It was a tiny room with a machine filled with bagged goods – though it looked like it needed money to operate, something none of them had or had so far even seen; what was it called? A vending machine? It… Was a… Vendor of things. Yeah, that made sense – and a couple of couches. The whole thing was secluded. Out of the way.Himiko carefully pressed buttons on the device in her hands; it wasn’t close to anything like the phones the other people around here had. The screen was in green and black and it seemed that all it could do was make calls and maybe operate a couple of games. Shoto thought that he once saw her playing something called ‘snake’ on it.Though, ‘all’ it could do was contact people instantly no matter where they were or how far. Sometimes, Shoto thought he might break down into hysterics by how insane the technology here was. Instant communication!But the buttons were pressed. Himiko put the phone on the table. It rang twice, a chirp that sounded like a bell being rung very, very quickly.“Hey!” A man picked up on the other end and sounded incredibly excited. “You remembered! Figured you’d forget!”“Twice, right?” Himiko grinned. “I pressed the ‘speaker’ button and I have a couple of friends next to me.”“Uh, hi!” Mei shifted awkwardly; the smile on her face said that she didn’t really know what to do with her expression or where to look.“Can he see us?” Shoto tried to ask in a whisper to Himiko.She shrugged.“Not that kinda phone.” Twice, on the other end, sounded amused. “You got one of the really old kinds that don’t have a camera. Don’t matter, there’s nothin’ interesting to see here. Got a good view of a pretty brick wall!”“What?” Mei blinked. “Aren’t you still at the hospital?”“No, we, uhm…” That was a new voice; it sounded weak and distant. A cough sounded far away. “We were… Escorted out of the hospital last evening.”“What?” Himiko let out a confused laugh. “Compress, right? What do you mean you were escorted out?”“I am not explaining this.” Twice actually did laugh on the other end. “I made the copies, but they were copies of you! Totally my responsibility.”Shoto looked to Mei; she had the same frown on her face that he did. “What happened?”“Ah… Well, you understand that the copies Twice makes aren’t real people, right?” Compress’s tone was… Ashamed? Bashful? “My duplicates, after letting out the last of the orbs, apparently decided that, while I was still in a coma, that the best course of action was to… End themselves.” A pause. “By jumping off of the roof.” A deep breath. “In broad daylight. The hospital staff… Did not like that.”There was a moment of surprised silence.Then, Himiko burst out laughing. “They jumped off the roof?! Don’t they just turn to sludge, though?”“Yeah, but we still got booted.” Twice cackled from further away from the phone, judging by how distant he sounded. “We’re in a cheap hotel now. Kinda swanky!”“Okay,” Shoto shook his head, feeling as if he had missed some kind of inside joke during this conversation. “Can you tell us about what’s going on with the… Uh, other situation?”“Ah, yes.” Compress sounded relieved by the change in subject. “That issue. Himiko, you’ve been in contact with the other party this entire time, I was told?”“Eh,” Himiko shifted. “‘The entire time’, more like a couple of messages over a few days, but yeah. As of right now, they should all be heading into position and the Tifari’s gonna be in full swing in a few hours. No confirmation yet on any casualties or if the targets have been confirmed spotted, but I have a pretty good idea of where everybody’s gonna be.”The sudden shift in to a more professional stance surprised Shoto. He nodded, impressed.“The problem is,” Himiko frowned. “Where the main group’s gonna be is, uh, right on top of a lake on our end. You guys have a ton of man-made parks and pretty things, one of those is right in the way.”“Oh,” Shoto perked up. “That’s why you wanted to loop us in on this? To see if we can make something to get us over the lake and in a good position?”“Bingo.” Himiko grinned.“Hmm.” Mei’s expression turned thoughtful. “Hatsume-san has a plethora of flying machines and hovercrafts and things we could theoretically stand on, but it’s risky to put that out in the middle of public. Without oversight from police or teachers, it might be too overt.”“What about an ice bridge?” Shoto suddenly understood why he was part of this conversation. “I know they said public use of quirks is restricted, but if we just… Walk on the water…”“Police are gonna be there, though, right?” Twice sounded confused. “We’re still kinda sorta workin’ with them to get Toga back! Screw them!”“If the police are helping out –” Mei jolted in place. “Oh! Oh, oh, oh! I have an idea, but it’s stupid and dangerous! But I need to know who of your guys are going to be there!” She then turned to grin right at him. “And I’m gonna need your help, too, Shoto!”Shoto was both curious and incredibly, deeply afraid.And yet, this was Mei; he had known her his entire life and she had never once let anyone in their family down. Years of secrets that they had been forced to keep together had never dulled her spirit – sure, she had shed a few tears along the way, but so had he – and her sheer brilliance had saved all of their lives.They wouldn’t even be here – none of them, not a single one of the kids from their house – if it weren’t for her. Mei had single-handedly orchestrated an escape in to a parallel universe.Shoto well and truly believed that there was nothing that Mei could not do. If she had an idea, it was more likely than not an incredible one.“What do you need me to do?”------------------ Today:The Queen was the last of the party guests to arrive. They didn’t even need Tenko to point her out or to give any sort of explanation; the sudden quiet that came over the main Tifari grounds was a sign enough.Aizawa squinted down and frowned to himself as all of the chatter going on with the other nomu came to a halt. The monsters below turned and stood, gazes on their Queen, out of respect; yet, no one seemed afraid or nervous as those under a despot would be. If anything, they seemed excited; smiles and grins and there were a few grown adults that twitched like teenagers about to meet an idol.The Queen came in, and she was… Petite. Tall and thin but it looked like she had barely any muscles on her bones at all; at least what parts of her were visible. The ornate gown that covered her, bottom flared out with what must have been dozens of petticoats, looking like someone had seen a Victorian-era design and then went ham on it, all but dwarfed her thin body; lace-covered sleeves revealed hands that didn’t have claws but painted nails instead. Her face was covered entirely in a golden mask that might have been, to the ignorant, like it came out of medieval Europe, and powdery white hair was piled high in what looked like a mix of a near-modern beehive and 17th century royalty. The corset around her waist seemed unnaturally tight. She walked, visibly unsteady, towards the head of the table.Another nomu – similarly ornate, in a similar style full-face mask, but a thick body with a more average set of claws and fangs – wrapped in a tailed suit that seemed ill-fitting helped her along.“Is she… A kid?” Aizawa asked in a whisper.“The Queen is in her mid-20’s.” Tenko said with a small shrug. “She looks more frail than she is. Don’t be fooled by her consort helping her, the whole ‘thin and ready to faint’ look is a trend right now.”Ah; if there was one thing that defied logic, it was fashion. Aizawa decided that he didn’t need to question anything further on that.Before he could think of what else to ask, though, a crackling noise went off; a speaker system hummed to life. It took a moment to spot them, the small square boxes wrapped on nearby lamp posts and probably all over the city. Gas-lit fire in a bulb above wireless speakers; yet more technological anachronism.The Queen took off her mask. Aizawa found himself shocked.She had a face that was nearly human; plump, shining feminine lips beneath a small, thin nose made her look close to conventionally attractive. The set of three eyes, one monstrously larger than the other two and none where eyes should have been – off kilter, tilting the wrong direction, on her skull in the wrong spots – was what threw off the whole ‘near-human’ thing by spades.If they were what they ate, how many people must she have eaten to become so much more ‘human’ than the rest of the population? Not even the rest of the upper crust looked quite that close. None of them were quite as pale.“My friends,” The Queen spoke; her voice had the same echo of the rest of the nomu, but there wasn’t the same grating effect. Instead, it was light and musical. Soft and serene. “Welcome to our Tifari, well in to its one-hundred-and-thirty-second celebration. Before the feast and the grand fireworks celebration to mark another cycle of birth, I would like to say a few words. If you would have them, that is.” She sent an amused look around the table; some chuckling went around the wealthier nomu present.Aizawa glanced around at the rest of those on the rooftop; Hawks’ wings were visibly twitching beneath his cloak, Spinner had long since given up on just fingering his blade and now had his scaled hand firmly on the hilt, and Edgeshot’s eyes – barely visible beneath the nomu mask – looked tense. Hagakure, he couldn’t be certain, but she hadn’t moved in some time. Tenko simply stared at the grounds beneath them.This little political speech – likely full of sweet platitudes and maybe a few religious references – would only wind their stress up further. Aizawa could feel it himself, a distant anxiety that came whenever a big fight was about to come down. No matter how many years Pro Heroes were on the scene, that slight fear never went away. That edge was what made them pay attention; sharpened them.“As a great many of you are doubtlessly aware,” The Queen said with a soft sigh. “There has been a shortage of food. As our population grows, our supplies shrink. More of our friends and family become feral as the days go by, most notable in our poorer districts. Some, yes, by choice, and I can’t deny them the freedom of their beliefs to not eat human meat. But, sad to say, the end result… Is still the same. Our friends degrade and lose their minds and we continue to be forced to kill the ones we love.”There came a pause; the clamor outside the royal grounds, excited with the crowds’ chatter only a few minutes ago, had gone quiet.“The poachers don’t help, I suppose.” The Queen sighed again. “In the past month alone, we lost three farms to those who believe they are above us, are above you. Nomu who care not for the greater good, but for their own stomachs. We will continue to hunt them, I assure you of this. Those that have been apprehended have, as I’m sure the papers have reported, been appropriately punished. I vow to continue the hunt for these villains.”Aizawa glanced at Tenko; the resistance had been framing their rescue operations as being performed by said poachers for years. He wasn’t actually sure if any real poachers actually existed or not; Tenko had admitted that they couldn’t confirm it one way or the other. The Queen could be lying to calm down the general population or telling the absolute truth.It didn’t really matter either way. Not to them.“But our Lord has heard our prayers!” The Queen chimed jubilantly. “Even as we released the stores of meat from our royal coffers to the population, standing on the edge of the knife and hoping no further disasters would strike, what should happen but a true and blessed miracle!” She clasped her dainty hands in front of her, taking on the classic position of prayer. “A gateway has opened to a whole new world filled with strong, healthy humans. Yes, my friends, those rumors are true! We have confirmed it for ourselves! And soon enough, none of our sons and daughters, none of our sisters and brothers, none shall find themselves to starve or go mad again! That is, if you will stand with me and stand under our Lord, one and all!”Applause arose from the table. Cheers came from outside the gates, from around the city and the endless crowds.One painted hand reached for the lid of the covered dish on the table – the one that held Ojiro and Toga, either alive or dead – and, in that moment, Aizawa saw that there was some strength to her arms. Scratched skin from strengthening muscles, from lifting weights and training, could only be covered by so much makeup.The Queen smiled brightly; three off-kilter eyes looked around with mascara-painted lashes. “Our manifest destiny lies before us, my friends!”Then, all hell broke loose.The first thought that went through Aizawa’s head when that cover was taken off of that plate was, he’s still alive. For roughly two seconds, he saw Ojiro sitting there. That was before he noticed that there were two of him there. Nearby, Spinner gasped, and two-and-two fell into a neat sum of four. It then happened so fast – and, as an undergound pro and a U.A. teacher besides, Aizawa prided himself on his quick reaction time – but both of the Ojiros on that plate were fast on their feet. One – a manic grin on his face and wearing a skirt so that had to have been Toga – flung a nearby wine glass three times the size of the standard with her tail at the head of the table. The other – a fiercely determined expression on his face but with an echo of terror – grabbed a steak knife the size of a sword from the ground with his tail and threw it at the Queen.The wine glass served as a distraction; it was what came through the air first, was what both the monarch and her consort reacted to, the latter moving to pull the former out of the way. The glass crashed against the throne-like chair behind her with a clatter. Ojiro – the real one – with that giant steak knife in use already had accounted for this.The knife flew through the air and impaled itself into the Queen’s exposed throat.Then, a whole lot of screaming happened.“Holy shit!” Tenko gasped aloud. “Holy shit!”“No time!” Aizawa threw off his disguise as he said it; around him, he saw the others do the same. “Move!”Down below, Ojiro and Toga-turned-Ojiro had turned to run down the opposite end of the table. It was most likely that neither knew where else to go, but there were still a horde of high-tier Nomu around them. Only half of which had rushed to the Queen’s side. Said monarch had since fallen to the ground, cradled in the arms of her now shrieking consort.This wouldn’t last long; once the panic shifted to anger, all of them would attack.Hawks was the first to become airborne; Edgeshot followed a moment later, thinning out his entire body to allow him to float – or at least fall with less damage in the landing. Spinner apparently decided that he just didn’t care about said possible damage and jumped with his blade already out, only to lessen his decent by grabbing parts of the building as he went. Aizawa caught a glance of this only briefly and filed the information that Spinner could stick to things with his bare skin in the back of his mind as he jumped down using the fire escape, a lamp post, his own capture tape, and finally the edge of the table itself. All of this took precious seconds.By the time they were all there for this extraction-turned-chaotic, the original plan was in shreds. Mostly in shreds; by the sudden plumes of thick fog that rose around them, Tenko had thrown down the smog grenades. They had intended to whisk them away in cover and bomb it all after the fact, but now?Now there were dozens of extremely angry nomu around them, fueled by grief and horror.“She’s pregnant!” The consort was screaming actual words now. “She’s pregnant! Help me! Please! Where are the healers?!”A good number of the nomu were now backing away and rushing away from the table; they were all dressed to the nines and likely had never seen a day of combat in their lives. The wealthy who, aside from eating the best quirks, had probably never actually used them. Good; they could use this to their advantage.An electrically charged claw-filled hand came from the side but standing on the table put them at eye-level; Aizawa cancelled the incoming quirk – causing the nomu in question to stop in surprise – before landing a roundhouse kick to its face. Behind him, Edgeshot was almost back-to-back with him, spreading his body thin to impale another incoming nomu – sending it reeling – and back again. Above him, Hawks was flying in circles above, throwing his feather-blades, but two nomu – looking like security guards with uniforms – flew up with giant wings of their own to meet him. Blood dripped from the sky.There came a bold flash of light; screams came with it as Hagakure blinded several opponents of her own. “Aiza –” and then she was gone in the smog and he didn’t know where she went.Aizawa sacrificed a few seconds to try to find her, but spotted Ojiro and Toga instead; one was standing on the extremely wide table further down, barely dodging both platters of food and claws extended in his direction and the latter – still in Ojiro’s form – jumping from a chair back to the table, heading in Spinner’s direction.Who was – way the hell down on the other end of the banquet table. How he got there, Aizawa wasn’t sure, but now he was separated from the rest of them and he was trying to cut them down as they came.But now there were actual armed guards flooding in. And the smog was thinning. There had been another stage to this attack – Tenko was supposed to turn a large building in to dust to further distract – but none of that was going off. Where had he gone?The Queen wasn’t making any noise, but the consort was wailing.There were too many of them.They were surrounded.---------------------
An hour ago:
The gun let out a single bullet; the boom and the echo it produced went over the entire room. No one moved for a few seconds, shocked by the sudden noise.Katsuki couldn’t so much as twitch. It felt like everything was vibrating, though, as if a small earthquake was going off. Except, the only thing that actually shook was his entire body and nothing else.He had never so much as seen a gun before. Not outside of the television shows he had watched the next universe over and the books back in the house. Had never heard one in real time.As it wound up, though, Deku was a terrible shot.He had to turn to see it; entire body on edge, Katsuki stared at the bullet hole in the spine of a book on a shelf against the wall.“…Oh.” Kyoka said very faintly.“Don’t move!” Deku – Izuku – stood at the desk and was pointing the gun at them. His hands were visibly shaking and he looked terrified, but glared at them anyway. “Who are you?! What are you doing in here?!”“Izuku…!” Shota raised his hands slowly. “Izuku, I don’t expect you to remember us –”“I have no idea who the hell you people are,” Tears were brimming in Izuku’s eyes as he spoke, but he still held the gun. “But that was… That was a warning shot! I’ll - I’ll shoot again if you don’t tell me what you’re doing here!”Shota still had his hands up. “Please, calm down. I know your emotions are high –”“Shut up!” The gun bobbed in shaking hands. “Answer the question!”“Deku, it’s us!” Katsuki couldn’t help it; he stared at the verdette he hadn’t seen in both a decade and a million years. “Put the goddamn gun down!”The gun stopped shaking. In fact, Deku stopped shaking. The grimace on that freckled face faded in to shock. Green eyes latched on to him.They stared at each other for what felt like a very long time.“How do you know that name? No one knows…” Deku gasped. “…Kacchan?”The gun fell to the ground with a loud clatter.Then, Deku ran around the table and right up to them; the next thing Katsuki knew was that he was wrapped in a hug. He returned it, a little hesitantly. It didn’t feel real.“Izuku…” Ochaco let out a breath of relief.“That was terrifying.” Kyoka leaned against a shelf. “I thought we were about to get shot.”“I didn’t know…!” Deku pulled himself away to look at the others. “I… I’m sorry, I kind of remember you, but… Not really.”“It’s been ten years.” Tenya smiled thinly; he looked frazzled. “And we were little kids. It’s okay.”“It’s good to see you again.” Shota finally lowered his arms.Deku stared up at Shota. He squinted for a moment. Then, his eyes widened in surprise. “You’re… You were the sensei of our house. I think?”“I was still in training when you left.” Shota had that fake smile on his face. “But, yes, for the most part.”“Okay, now can you tell me what are you people doing here?!” The panic was back on Deku’s face, but now he at least didn’t look like he wanted to murder them.“We came here for you, you idiot!” Katsuki barely breathed; he could feel his face burn red. Words were barely stringing themselves together. “We came here to rescue you!”“Rescue?!” Deku sputtered. “How did you even find me?!”“Would you believe that there’s a resistance?” Tenya looked sheepish. “We… Accessed the nomu security files and traced your location.”“‘Accessed’?” Kyoka shook her head, but she looked ready to laugh from sheer hysteria. “We did a hell of a lot more than that at this point!”“Accessed from where?” Deku’s said with sudden seriousness.The sudden harshness of his tone caused them all to pause.“Uh,” Katsuki sputtered. “We broke in to one of those crazy caretaker buildings. Where they train the lucky bastards that don’t get eaten.”“A caretaker facility?” Deku’s expression turned to sheer panic. “Oh. Oh, no. No, you all have to get out of here right now!”“What?” Both Kyoka and Ochaco yelped at the same time.“Why?” Katsuki frowned. “And like hell we’re leaving without you! We’re not leaving you here! Fuck…” He raised a hand and it lingered over one of Deku’s scars; the one on the side of his skull, where hair would never grow back. “The fuck did they do to you?”“It doesn’t matter…!” Deku stopped with sudden realization. “Wait. Wait, are you guys… Did you just say that there’s a resistance movement?”Tenya frowned. “Yes…?”“Oh,” Deku’s eyes widened. “…Then this is perfect.”“What?” Katsuki stared.“Listen,” Deku looked him right in the eyes; his expression was intense but not crazed. “Toshinori-sensei – the Grandfather, he’s in charge of everything related to humans – he’s training me to take over for him. This is going to sound crazy, but he isn’t a bad guy, he’s been trying to convince the elites and the royal house that we’re not animals. But he’s getting old, that’s why he pulled me out of the labs, he never had any kids of his own and he needed someone to take over. In a few years, I’ll be in charge, and if we have a line of communication…”“The fuck, ‘he’s not a bad guy’?” Katsuki sputtered. “The Grandfather guy?”“Oh.” Tenya’s openly gaped. “Oh, if we have someone in that high a position of authority working with us –”“Wait, the Grandfather jerk picked you, what, personally?” Katsuki stared at Deku; something did not feel right. “Why did the Grandfather asshole even pick someone from the labs? Wouldn’t everyone there be fucked up?”Deku’s mouth went thin. “Toshinori-sensei… He said it was because I survived. A lot of… Lots of kids died in there. I didn’t, so…” He shrugged.“It makes a horrible sort of sense.” Tenya grimaced. “We don’t have too much information from the labs, but from what we gathered, they experiment on quirkless boys to increase their muscle mass and fat. They’ve been trying to make… More meat with less bodies. If the Grandfather wanted to train someone, someone who was…” He took a breath. “Biologically altered would be better suited.”Katsuki stared at Tenya for a few seconds. Then, his gaze went back to Deku.He wasn’t even looking before, not past the scars, but he now noticed that Izuku wasn’t as thin or as gaunt as he first thought. There was a thickness to him, more muscles and lines of veins that couldn’t be due only to how pale his skin was.Deku wasn’t looking at him anymore. His gaze was on the ground.“Shit,” Katsuki frowned. “Shit, Deku…”“Dammit!” The voice came sudden and loud.All eyes turned to the doorway behind them. While they had been talking, Shota had slipped back and away and was now on the other side of the doorframe. He looked like he was trying to make the most difficult decision of his life.“Sensei…?” Kyoka said with a frown.“Dammit,” Shota said again, softer than before. “Children, I…” He looked down at his hand. He had a key in it.A key to the doors?“What the fuck?” Katsuki boggled; he didn’t understand what he was seeing, but it was sending warning bells in his head.“…They promised me things.” Shota took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, they promised me things…”“Son of a bitch…!” Katsuki near-screamed.Ochaco and Kyoka both yelled in surprise; it almost drowned out the sound of Tenya’s engines roaring to life. It didn’t cover the slam of the doors closing. Katsuki didn’t hear any audible click of the doors locking, but he did hear the loud, horrible thud of Tenya’s side hitting the door as he tried to break it down. The warm heat of his own hands flaring to life made him miss Deku acting to the side; if the flash of his quick hadn’t briefly blinded him, he might have seen it.Deku picked up the gun from the floor and fired at the door. Three shots. Then, it clicked rapidly, out of bullets to fire. On the other side of the door, Shota yelled; there was a fresh thud.Katsuki rushed to the door; he set both hands against it and blasted away. A universe away, Katsuki had been training himself to become stronger. His other self – and Hagakure – had helped him figure out several techniques to make himself even more explosive. It came in to help him now.Or he thought that it would. The fancy, dark wood door had visible scorch marks, but there was no shrapnel; there were no splinters flying through the air or the loud crack of the door breaking apart.“What the fuck?” Katsuki backed away a few steps, confused and alarmed.“The door’s made to stand up to a bunch of quirks.” Deku said from where he had picked up the gun. His hands fumbled; he was trying to reload it. “Everything in this house is!”“Hold on.” Kyoka moved to the door. “I think I have an idea.”Her earphone jacks – growing up, none of them had any real idea what they were even for, not until they were all very young and she accidentally blew up a tree by plugging in to the bark during a temper tantrum – connected to the underside of the doorknob. The metal vibrated, quaking and falling apart; screws and small copper plates fell to the floor. It opened up the locking mechanism from the outside.“What the hell?” Kyoka stared at what the fallen plates revealed. “…Wires?!”“It’s a digital lock.” Deku’s panic was coming back. “The key’s only a backup, Toshinori-sensei opens it with his fingerprints.”“Then how’r we going to get it open?” Kyoka frowned. “Should we unplug them all?”“It’ll just lock worse,” Deku’s voice bordered on a whine. “It’ll activate the additional security features!”“We can still force it open.” Katsuki looked back to Deku. He held out a hand. “Those bullets went through the door.”The verdette gave him a wary look but handed him the gun.Katsuki moved to the open lock. He aimed the gun point blank; he had no experience with aiming the weapon and didn’t want to take the chance of missing. He pulled the trigger.The thunderous boom didn’t disguise the additional ping of the ricochet; Katsuki felt the metal graze the side of his face as it bounced back. He didn’t see where it landed.Everyone paused.“Okay,” Katsuki stepped back. “That would have been a stupid way to die.”“No gun,” Tenya immediately grabbed it out of his hands with one hand; the other arm hung awkwardly. “No shooting.”“Hey, guys! Get out of the way!”They turned to see Ochaco holding up the entire desk.The massive piece of furniture slammed against the door. It took two more uses of Ochaco’s quirk before it broke open.A few feet from the door, Shota lay bleeding on the floor. Deku’s original gunshots had hit their mark.Something inside Katsuki broke when he saw the body. “Why?!” He yelled it at the dying man who had raised him since he was a baby, the closest person to a father that he had ever had. “Why the fuck did you do that?!”“Kacchan…” Deku was even more pale now. “You need to leave. Toshinori-sensei isn’t going to blame me for this.”“There’s a mess back there…!” Tenya said with a hiss; he held his shoulder, the one that hit the door. “How are you going to explain all of that?!”“Are you okay?!” Kyoka stared at Tenya.“I think I broke or dislocated my shoulder.” Tenya looked embarrassed. His next words came through grit teeth in a quick mumble. “Shouldn’t have tried to ram down the door, why did I think that was a good idea…?”“Why the hell did you do it?!” Katsuki barely spared them a look; he was still staring at Shota. “We could have gone back to the school! What the fuck did they promise you that it was worth giving that up?!”“There won’t be another world soon.” Shota stared up at him; there was a pool of blood on the floor beneath him that was only growing larger by the second. “They’re going to invade… They’ll take it. They’ll take it like they always do. They told me that they would spare you… Let you become caretakers or assistants. That you’d all get to grow up if I worked with them.” He paused. “I told them everything.”“Everything?” Tenya gasped.“Sensei…” Ochaco sniffled to the side; she looked heartbroken. “We could have fought them together.”Katsuki snarled at his dying sensei, but something in his heart clenched that wasn’t anywhere close to hate.“You need to go!” Deku said again. “I’ll figure out a way to explain –”“Shut up!” Katsuki whirled on him. “You’re coming with us! We’re not leaving you!”“We have enough disguises outside.” Tenya wheezed. “But he’s right, we need to go and we need to go now!”Katsuki glared down at Shota one last time. He blinked away the prickling sensation in his eyes.Then, they ran.---------------------------
Now:
The nomu weren’t trying to kill them.That quickly became apparent when one finely dressed dinner guest trapped Spinner, still on the other end of the table, under what looked like an oversized glass baking dish turned upside-down. It must have been created from some kind of quirk. It was like how Aizawa would trap a bug or a stray mouse back home; grab some Tupperware, trap it in, and then release it outside.Inside the glass, Spinner panicked, slashing at the walls with his sword. It did nothing more than leave scratches.Toga – who still looked like Ojiro – had run back for the chair when her fellow villain had gotten trapped. She didn’t get more than two steps before a nomu covered in silk and brocades forced her back with some light use of quirks. It could manipulate fabrics; the tablecloth turned in to a wall.From the sky, Hawks suddenly came tumbling down; he hit a chair not too far from Aizawa and Edgeshot with a harsh thud, wings slamming in to the surface. But he didn’t look badly hurt; there were some scratches and light bloodshed, but nothing that looked any heavier than the slash marks on the goggles over his face. The yellow plexiglass hadn’t even been broken.Another flash of light; Hagakure was next to Ojiro, but both of them were in fighting positions, possibly back-to-back but it was hard to tell, though neither were actively in combat.“There’s too many, Eraser…!” Edgeshot was more or less solid next to him after slicing down two of the uniformed security guards. “And I don’t see Tenko anywhere…”“If he’s smart, he ran.” Aizawa snarled but hated to admit it; with guards wield very large guns – though none of them were actively shooting them – a retreat would have been the most logical course of action. These nomu, after all, were trying to take them alive; it was more likely worse than if they were trying to kill them. “Dammit, if we can –”Something exploded. It sounded like a bomb going off in the distance, but the flash of golden light that came with it was too close. Had Tenko finally made a move?No; instead, Katsuki barreled through the smog caused by his own destruction; Kyoka and Ochaco were flanking his sides, but Aizawa saw no sign of either Tenya or Shota. But from behind the small group that was not even close enough to being proper backup was a green-haired young man that could only be Izuku.These problem children were about to get themselves killed.“Get out of here!” Aizawa screamed at them; his capture weapon wrapped around a nomu in a ballgown and slammed her head against the table. The monster staggered back and collapsed to the ground.“Fuck no!” Katsuki called back; it was barely audible above a fresh explosion at the crotch of an incoming nomu.They were barely waist high to their enemy; they may as well have been toddlers fighting against adults. Still, furniture now flew under Ochaco’s quirk and one of the overhead speakers let out a horrid screech that distracted nearby nomu – Kyoka at work – leaving them open for Izuku to – shoot them? He had a gun?Whatever worked, Aizawa supposed. He only wished these children would listen to him and back away from the fight. Though, he couldn’t think of where he could send them, where they could go. This whole place was a pure shitshow.Between himself and Edgeshot, the nomu at their end of the table were actually keeping their distance. Odds were, they weren’t sure how to attack without killing them, but this dance would only last for so long. Why they had all mutually agreed not to harm them was something Aizawa couldn’t quite figure out.Hawks was still down; he didn’t move from the chair he landed on. He might have hit his head in the fall. Aizawa gave a quick nod to Edgeshot; the other Pro thinned himself out to travel quicker, landing on a small exposed piece of the chair in question.Which left him alone. Another nomu moved in; this time, as he cancelled whatever quirk they had, he used his capture tape to fling a glass filled with what looked too much like blood – might have been blood – against its’ head. With a roar and the crash of breaking glass, it backed off.From the corners of his vision, Aizawa caught sight of Hagakure and Ojiro working in tandem; flashes of light gave Ojiro the opening to slam his tail into the faces and chests of nomu that got too close. Toga was wielding a steak knife-turned-sword and had gone back to where Spinner was still trapped and, by the blood, had succeeded in stabbing at least one opponent. The ground around the table was a little more difficult to spot around the large platters of food, oversized wine glasses and combat, but he could only hope the kids down there were holding up.It was only a matter of time before they were worn down. There was no clear escape route; not for all of them. The kids could probably back off and hide in the alleyways between nearby buildings, but the table was surrounded.Then, there came a sudden boom and a rush of air.“Enough!” The loud voice – familiar, somehow – came from the sky. A brief half-second later, a figure landed hard and swift at the head of the table. A human-sized form. It was All Might.But, no, of course it wasn’t; Aizawa immediately backed off, leaping backwards in alarm. The real All Might was a universe away and this one wasn’t wearing any of the costumes or uniforms made famous. That, and the man standing there looked… Off. His hair wasn’t right, was still relatively long but held back in a flat ponytail. Those same blue eyes gleamed bright, but he didn’t smile; a snarl graced this man’s face.“Enough.” The Grandfather said again.The fighting had stopped; nomu had immediately backed off when the Grandfather made his appearance. The rest, Aizawa noticed with a glance, had stalled out of either shock or fear. Maybe a bit of both.The Grandfather turned his head to look towards the consort; the Queen was no longer there. The suited nomu sat on the ground, blood on his talons, and seemed to be in some kind of shock. The Grandfather then turned back to them.“Do you have any idea,” The Grandfather seethed. “How long and how hard I’ve been working to convince them that we aren’t the beasts they think we are?”This might have been an alternate version of All Might, but Aizawa had no doubt that he was just as strong and just as powerful as All Might had been in his prime. He had to run on the assumption that he was possibly even stronger; never having had the injuries that had weakened the Toshinori Yagi a universe away.“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?!” The Grandfather yelled, enraged.Aizawa’s eyes flashed to cancel the Grandfather’s quirk; at the same time, Edgeshot moved in, body thinned and ready to impale. From below, there came an explosion – Katsuki, most likely – and from above came a leaping body with a long, sturdy tail.The Grandfather let off a wordless yell; one muscle-coated arm swung out, somehow striking Edgeshot; the Pro let out a yelp of shock and alarm as he fell down to the ground. Katsuki’s explosion stopped as Edgeshot landed near him. Still, the Pro’s attack had left a deep, bleeding gash in the Grandfather’s arm, but he still moved with lightning speed to grab at the tailed figure that flew at him with the other. The tail was grabbed and the body swung and thrown.The tailed figure in question flew along the table, throwing several plates and glasses to the side in a cacophony. There was a groan as the figure – in a skirt, a failed attack from Toga – staggered back up, muttering an “ow, ow, ow, ow” along the way. The disguise rippled and melted away as she stood.Aizawa knew that he had barely cancelled the Grandfather’s quirk, but his pure strength made up for it.“I suggest you give up quietly.” The Grandfather said with a calm, dangerous fury. “You’re from that other world, aren’t you? All of you? We can learn so much from each other.”“Toshinori-sensei…!” Came from the ground.“Wha –” The Grandfather looked startled. Then, a deep, calming breath. “Ah, young Izuku. I’ll deal with you later. Stay out of the way.”Below, Izuku let out a whimper that was audible in the sudden silence.Where the hell was Shota? Where the hell was Tenko?! Alone, Aizawa couldn’t keep the Grandfathers’ quirk cancelled for very long. He had to blink eventually, but two of him together could have alternated. Something must have happened; both Tenya and Shota were nowhere to be seen. One or both must have been injured. They could both be dead for all he knew.Still, there were other ways to keep a villain busy.“You’re pissed because of what we’ve done?” Aizawa hissed, gripping his capture tape. “How about what you and yours have done? You came to our world, remember? You took our kids!”The Grandfather let out a laugh. “Oh, is that what all of this was? This was a rescue mission?! You left the safety and strength of your world for only two people? Oh my goodness…!”He sounded so much like All Might. The same joviality; the same laugh.“Your kind is going to have to learn,” The Grandfather shook his head. “When to make the right sacrifices.”All Might had a very particular way of fighting. Aizawa, like most of everyone in Japan – if not the entire world – had watched countless documentaries, movies and news reports about the man. After all, his very presence had been ingrained into the culture; the image of the Number One Pro sweeping in to save the day, carrying injured civilians atop him in droves, and fighting villains of all types. Personally, Aizawa had long found it annoying; the near-bragging speeches, the sheer pride, and the booming laughter at every interview. A great many things had happened since then that had forced him to adjust his opinion, but he knew how All Might carried himself.So, he was prepared when the Grandfather rushed in to punch at him; it was what All Might would have done, would have gone in for the hundred-punches-a-minute. Capture tape helped to propel him back but using them to wrap this particular opponent would be near impossible. Canceling a strength quirk didn’t stop the natural muscle mass behind the fist in question.The only thing to do was to dodge and to back as far away as possible.But this man, in the end, was not All Might. Where the Symbol of Peace would have held himself back, would have not put his full strength in to it from fear of accidentally killing a person, would have done things clean and fairly, this man would do the opposite.Aizawa knew all of this enough to expect the uppercut; he swung back to avoid it. He barely managed to get his capture tape around the leg that tried to sweep his own.He did not expect the tendrils of black to come from the Grandfathers’ arms; it was not a quirk All Might had, or at least one he had ever shown. As the glowing whips wrapped around him, Aizawa distantly remembered that he had seen that ability before. But not on All Might.The sensation of being slammed head first in to the hard surface below was familiar but no less unpleasant.“Sensei!” At least two people screamed.There came a flash of light; the Grandfather instinctively shielded his eyes. Aizawa tried to as well, but couldn’t while he was still bound. Still, despite the flash, he caught sight of a new tailed body – not Toga this time, the real Ojiro – with his entire body curled up as he moved, aiming the brunt of his strength concentrated in his tail and aimed for the Grandfathers’ head. Aizawa forced his eyes open despite the light, aiming his own quirk once again at All Might’s lookalike.It was as if the Grandfather had done this all before; as if he had fought opponents with this exact strategy and these same quirks. His eyes were closed with one hand over his face – there was no possible way he could see – but he let go of the black tendrils and picked up the closest enlarged utensil – a fork that may as well have been a pitchfork – and thrust it through the air as if he knew exactly where to aim it. He was mostly correct. Aizawa knew where this was headed and lashed his capture tape out to grab the boy.It happened at the same time; Ojiro’s tail landed along the Grandfathers’ skull, but the pronged ends of the fork struck the boy all the same; there came flashes of blood from both wounds. Both of them screamed.The Grandfather let go of the fork as he was hit, but the hand over his face lashed out to grab the attacking limb; in the process, Aizawa’s tape missed the target. Again, a tail was grabbed and it was used to throw the body it was attached to.Ojiro went flying, skidding along the tablecloth much like Toga had, but this time there was a trail of blood along the way.Hagakure was the next to scream as she rushed to Ojiro’s side.Once the light of her own quirk faded, Aizawa caught a clear view of the Grandfather, head split apart, staggering and clutching at the wound. It looked like a bad one; blood came thick to land on the tablecloth.Then, the sky above rippled.Aizawa barely looked up in time to see it; even with echoes of Hagakure’s quirk causing light spots in his eyes, he could recognize the portal opening up in the middle of the sky for what it was. It might have been crisp and clear if it weren’t long past sunset.Then, the portal moved; before Aizawa could even think to hope, it flew through the air and from it, in a cascade similar to a waterfall, came a stream of ice. It came in a long bridge, falling piece by piece as it was made, falling and crashing on to the table, the nomu and their own alike. The nomu in question shrieked and ran in surprise. Hagakure shielded the fallen Ojiro with her own invisible body, but, by some miracle, none of the falling ice hit them.As the ice fell, bodies came with it. Standing and skating with the fragments came what was now their backup.“Togaaaaa…!” Twice came in screaming.Next to him, landing with all the grace of a proper Pro, fell Shigaraki.Around them were several dozen nomu. Or, rather, the nomu the League made a universe away; silent, brain-exposed masses with lidless eyes. There were no words, no orders given; Shigaraki simply gestured vaguely to the taller, stunned nomu of this universe around them. Then, the young leader of the League of Villains joined the fray himself; a nearby attacker’s entire arm turned to ash as he grabbed the claw intended to grab him.Then, the monsters from their own world attacked the other monsters from here and all hell broke free.The portal above them was still open. Helicopters came from them – police vehicles by the marking – with lower-tier Pros and armed officers alike.A stream of ice came from the sky; a wall appeared between himself and the Grandfather. It may as well have been glass; he could see through it, could still see the visage of All Might on the other end. Aizawa looked up for the source and was startled to see Todoroki – no, Shoto, the burn on his face wasn’t there – but then there was a second one standing nearby. Ah, right. Twice was here. Shoto must have allowed him to copy his form and he hoped the boy hadn’t decided to join this mess for real.The Grandfather was still stunned. On the other side of the new wall, blood seeped from the wound, but deep blue eyes glared at him. Aizawa stiffened, preparing for an incoming attack despite the ice. It never came; instead, the Grandfather took off to the sky – leaping into flight as All Might used to – and vanished into the clouds.Gunfire was going off and Aizawa didn’t check to see where it came from. Instead, he turned to rush to Ojiro and Hagakure and was surprised to find a certain someone else there.Toga had her shirt pressed against Ojiro’s stomach; the fork had pierced him in the gut and there was a massive pool of blood. His tail, as well, looked off; mid-way, the limb jutted to the side, bones broken. The tail didn’t move.“Oh, no, no, no…” Hagakure was moaning, clutching one of Ojiro’s hands in both of hers. “Don’t fall asleep, stay awake!”Ojiro was clearly alert; he was pale but staring at the bloody wound in wide-eyed shock.“Take deep breaths.” Aizawa knelt next to his injured student. He gave a brief look around and spotted spikes of ice forming – gunshots were going off, ice formed new weapons and walls here and there, it was pure chaos filled with smoke and ash and screaming – and came to the conclusion that the rest of the nomu were being kept busy by the villains and rescue team alike. “Take deep breaths. We’re getting out of here.”A helicopter came from the portal hovering in the sky. He could recognize a triage unit when he saw one; the gurneys and officers only cemented it.It would not have been the first time that Aizawa helped to extract the severely injured from a chaotic battleground with combat still going off, but he could well and truly say it had never been quite like this.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Aizawa could not remember getting into the helicopter. At least, there was no active memory of the event; he would later remember the sounds of gunfire, of distant explosions, of screams – both human and otherwise – and a hazy cloud over everything. He could have been pulled in to the helicopter by someone else; all that he knew was that he saw the vehicles descend, had a brief thought that maybe, maybe, they weren’t all going to die, and then he was inside.The world was swimming in a decisively uncomfortable manner. His own heartbeat was pounding inside his head – something that he thought he had learned to ignore years ago – and the doors slammed shut while they were still in the air. Had the helicopter actually stopped to land? He didn’t think so. It just swooped in to pick them up and there they went.There came a pounding against where the doors had closed; a screeching noise came with it, followed by the lurching of the entire cabin and the yelps of several people. The nomu were still trying to attack. Aizawa didn’t try to stand – the ground didn’t feel stable, his head didn’t even feel stable, everything felt distant and upside down somehow – but he did have the sense to look around. Even if he had to hold both his head and the floor to do it.He touched something warm and wet with the hand on his own skull; shocked, he pulled his arm back to stare. A mess of red came back; blood.His head was bleeding? When did he get a head wound? Why was his head bleeding?No time to figure it out now; he went back to holding his skull in what even he knew was a vain attempt to make the world stand still. This was fine; everything was going to be fine. The rescue party had come in, they just had to fly through a portal, didn’t they? Everything would be fine.Another screeching noise. What sounded like a scraping noise – talons on the metal that made the helicopter – came from the underside.Someone was moaning very loudly in pain. Someone else was crying. Yet a third person was swearing. It didn’t take long to figure out who was doing what action.Ojiro was on the floor, taking up most of the precious real estate that the helicopter had. A worryingly large pool of blood was underneath him. Hagakure was the one crying, one of his hands in both of hers, tears glistening off of the lights coming from overhead along her transparent face. Toga was the one swearing, shoving her shirt in the wound on Ojiro’s gut.It wouldn’t do much good. The blood was on the floor; that oversized fork must have gone through him, leaving an exit wound on his back. It could have pierced an organ. It might have gone through more than one. Aizawa stared worringly; a brief attempt to move closer was aborted when the world very briefly blacked out around him.Apparently, his body did not want him to move.A paramedic – and only now did Aizawa even realize there were paramedics on board – pulled Toga out of the way but then began to give orders. Words came in fuzzy and wrong; Aizawa saw more than heard the young villain help lift Ojiro enough for some sort of thick, blanket-like gauze to be wrapped around him. It had a name, but Aizawa couldn’t for the life of him remember what it was. Ojiro let out a scream.“Eraser Head?” An actual clear voice; it came from behind him.Aizawa found himself barely with the energy to turn; Katsuki stared at him, eyes wide and more pale than he could recall ever seeing the boy look before. Though, despite the chaos, he had remembered to use his Pro name; praise would have to come later for that.More importantly, Katsuki was on board the helicopter. He had survived.There had been multiple helicopters, he remembered that now; the rest of those kids had better be on them. Though, now he recalled not seeing certain people out during the fight.“Katsuki.” Aizawa desperately hoped that his voice wasn’t shaking or off in any way. “What happened? What happened to Tenya and Shota?”The helicopter lurched but then settled back down. The noises outside had become quieter; what wails there were came in far, far distant and the scratching noises had stopped.Katsuki only seemed to pale worse; he was jittery, visibly distracted by every new sound that came from outside and the cries Ojiro and Hagakure were both still letting out.“Are they dead?” Aizawa asked bluntly, trying to regain the boy’s focus.“Shota, he…” Katsuki licked his lips nervously. “He betrayed us, he –”“He what?!” Came from another part of the helicopter.Aizawa jolted in surprise; he turned – and the sound of his veins pounding in his head got worse at the movement – to stare.Spinner lay against the opposite side door, snug in a curved corner. A very large piece of glass was impaled in his shoulder. Since neither the villain nor any of the paramedics were trying to remove it, it was likely stopping serious blood loss. Wide eyes and a dropped jaw stared at them. Despite the scales, he looked pale.Though, Aizawa had the feeling that he wasn’t looking much better. He turned back to Katsuki, head now clouded with more than pain. “Betrayed…?”“He –” Katsuki’s voice caught. “He tried to lock us all in the stupid house! Tenya broke his arm when we got out and De – Izuku shot him and then we bumped in to Tenko and… and it… everything just…”They had ran in to Tenko at some point? Aizawa frowned. “When and where did you meet Tenko?”“Uh…” Katsuki sputtered at the question. “In the city, next to the Tifari thing. Sensei – fucking asshole, he said he told the nomu everything –”“Shota told them everything?” Aizawa stared with sheer disbelief. “What…?”He didn’t understand. Why in the world would Shota give everything up? They had an entire universe where he could have been safe from the nomu, where he wouldn’t have had to worry about death or enslavement. He had personally spoken with his other-universe self about his potential future there, about all the things he could learn and do –Katsuki let out a snarl. “He said he did it to make sure we would… I think just us, ‘his kids’, whatever the fuck, that we’d be allowed to live. He said the bastards’d win, but, fuck that, we’d be alive anyway, he was just trying to save his own ass when shit hit the fan!” The helicopter jolted; red eyes immediately darted around in a panic.Shota made an arrangement to shield the kids? Did he think that they were walking into a trap? He could have said something then, it wasn’t as if anyone was restricting him from voicing his concerns!It didn’t help that Aizawa couldn’t figure out how Shota could have even gotten into communications with the nomu to tell them ‘everything’ in the first place. They had been a universe away, then here, and then their group hadn’t left each other’s side for a moment, not until they had gotten to the resistance compound. Even then, Shota hadn’t once left it, they would have known, and it wasn’t as if the nomu’s universe had any way to communicate long distance; there hadn’t been so much as a telegraph in Tenko’s possession, let alone a cellphone or –It hit Aizawa so hard that he physically reeled. “Hagakure, do you still have Ojiro’s cellphone?”Hagakure let out a confused squeak. The cellphone in question – edge coated in a thin layer of semi-dry red liquid – was held out to him in a single shaking gloved hand. “D-draw a heart on it to unlock it.”Aizawa took the phone; it lit up to show the lock screen, a cropped photo from the Sports Festival. It had once been a snapshot of all of 1-A, but the image on screen focused on Hagakure in a cheerleading uniform. His eyes shuddered for a moment – these stupid kids had been through too much already – and risked letting go of the floor to line a generic heart shape on the flat glass.Back in the resistance headquarters, the little pieces of technology that they had brought with them had been a curiosity. Everyone there, no matter the age or station, had wanted to hold or to touch the higher ends of their hero costumes, their cellphones, even Hawk’s watch had been marveled over. Ojiro’s cellphone had been passed from hand to hand, had been held on to and poked and prodded. There had been crowds ‘ooh’-ing and ‘aah’-ing at every minor thing with the phone.It didn’t take long to find it. It wasn’t even hidden; not a single text had been deleted, including a long string of them from a number marked simply as ‘0’.“I gave it to him… I just…” Hagakure sniffled; she must have figured it out. “…I taught him how to play games on it.”Goddamit. Aizawa shut the phone off and set it on the floor.It was quiet for a few minutes.After a while, Katsuki let out a breath that was somehow audible above everything. “…That’s what I told Tenko. All the shit that went down, and he said he needed to get Tenya medical attention and then he just… Bailed.”Ah. Things were falling into place. A new pain clutched at his gut, still unable to fully grasp what Shota had done – or tried to do –, but Aizawa could feel some relief with it as well.“Tenko made the right decision.”“What?” Katsuki stared at him. “What – he, he bailed!”“Things were going to shit, kid.” That came from Spinner. “And if Shota –” Was that an actual flash of pain on that lizard-like face? “— really did tell them everything…”Aizawa couldn’t believe that he was agreeing with a villain, but here they were. “He would have wanted to make sure his family was safe. That his sister was safe. And to get Tenya somewhere safe. We’ve only known him for a few days, prioritizing the resistance and everything he cares about makes more sense given the mess that our operation had become. He made a perfectly sound strategic withdrawal given the situation.”What he didn’t say was that some of that logic may have applied to Shota as well; his other-universe self had known these children their entire lives, had raised them himself, but had only known freedom for, what, a few weeks? If that? Would he have done the same thing given a similar situation?No, the relationship between himself and his students was markedly different – he had not raised any of them from infancy – but weren’t they technically the same person? Would he have thrown everything else under the bus if it meant potentially saving his students’ lives?On top of it all, this opened up a whole mess of problems for later. If the resistance headquarters had been compromised, they would have moved – assuming they had escaped in time and survived. How would they get in to contact with the resistance now? And how would they get Himiko back to them – if she wanted to go back to that universe, that is? None of that could be answered right now, though.Katsuki didn’t seem to like what he was hearing; his face scrunched in conflicted anguish.The windows were small; outside, lights flashed quickly, a kaleidoscopic rainbow. When the colors finally settled, it came with the distant, gleaming beacons of city streets.A brief hush fell over everything. Even Ojiro and Hagakure had gone quiet – disturbingly so, perhaps. Aizawa looked over to find that Ojiro was unconscious – either passed out from the pain or a sedative from the paramedic – but there was color on his face and he was still breathing. The large wrap around his chest had begun to stain, but seemed thick enough. Hagakure was shaking, evidenced by her gloved hands, both of which held one of Ojiro’s.In the heroics industry, there was a phrase that always caught the newcomers by surprise: ‘hope to see you hurt’. The phrase had sprung up decades ago, long before his own time, with the belief that wishing a Pro luck before an op tended to jinx it in a way not all too dissimilar to the old acting line of ‘break a leg’. ‘Hope to see you at the hospital later’ had ended up cut short as long phrases tended to be and it eventually became what it was. Wishing a Pro ‘hurt’ meant that they had survived, that they had succeeded at their latest mission and that they would have a chance to be hurt again in the future. More pain meant a longer career.Aizawa sincerely hoped that he would see Ojiro hurt again.Maniacal laughter suddenly filled the air.Aizawa turned slowly – head still pounding, world still swimming – to stare at the source and noticed that he wasn’t the only one to do so; everyone – paramedics, villain and children alike – turned to stare at Toga, who cackled, eyes closed and hunched over, as she sat still holding her bloodied shirt.Had she cracked? Had the stress of the situation been too much for this girl? Villain or not, there was only so much a person could take and she had been stuck as a prisoner in that other world for a terribly long time.“Oh my god,” Toga said once she was forced to take a breath. She laughed again, pitched and crazed. “I thought I was dead!”Oh. It was that kind of insanity. Aizawa felt himself relax.Toga wasn’t done; she didn’t look up at anyone, eyes fixed on what had once been a shirt in her hands, barely able to breathe. “I thought I was dead! I mean, holy shit, I was there for so goddamn long! Hell, Ojiro-kun thought we were both gonna die!”Hagakure still held Ojiro’s hand in hers. Both of them clenched tighter. Despite her invisible body, Aizawa could have sworn that she stiffened. “Ojiro-kun?”“Oh,” Toga actually smirked at her, laughter gradually dying down. “Don’t worry, he’s got it bad for you. You were the only stupid thing he talked about whenever he talked about anything. You got a real weird one, thought we were both gonna get munched and he still gave me his blood!” She was rambling; Aizawa had seen this before, the hysteria after surviving a major event. It did not alarm him. “…And he taught me how to use his tail without even an argument! Like, who does that?!” Suddenly, her mania had quieted; the brief high must have been wearing off. “…Not a lot of people’d do that, I don’t think. But, holy shit, we’re alive!”Aizawa wanted to say something. He sat up, opened his mouth, and tried to tell these kids something inspirational; that, yes, they had survived, that Ojiro would survive as well, that everything would be fine.All that came out was a groan.“Uh, Eraser,” Spinner sputtered. “Are you okay?”Toga let out what sounded like a strangled squeal.“I think –” No, wait. Aizawa shuttered his eyes for a moment. “I absolutely have a concussion.”“Why’r you asking him if he’s okay…?” Toga asked no one in particular. “What the hell did I miss…?”The helicopter lurched again, but it wasn’t nearly as jarring as it was during the initial rescue. The lights outside the window seemed nearer, bolder and brighter. They were landing, most likely on a hospital rooftop.Only then did Aizawa finally allow himself to pass out.---------------------Katsuki had never been in a hospital before.Sure, he had read about them. He had known, of course, that hospitals were a thing that existed. He had even seen some drawings in the books back at the house and, after that, had seen a few drama-shows on the television at U.A. But he had never actually been in one.As soon as the helicopter had landed – another first experience, one that he really, really never wanted to repeat ever again, especially not with nomu fucking chasing them in the air, dear god – those that had been hurt had been put on beds with wheels – gurneys? That’s what they were, right? – and the rest of them had been given blankets wrapped around their shoulders and led inside. Well, most of them; he thought at least one not-horrifically-bloody hero and probably all of the villains might have refused them.It was a bit of a mess for those first few minutes after they had arrived on the rooftop. Men and women in doctor and nurse uniforms led them inside and out of the cold – and it really was colder here than it had been there – and down some stairs. There had been an elevator, but they used that strictly for the people in the wheeled beds. He had watched Hagakure refuse to let go of Ojiro’s hand until the very last second. He knew that he would have done the same thing if one of his brothers or sisters were on that bed and didn’t they have something more? Deep love, right?Then, they were brought to a very large room with a whole lot of chairs, couches and televisions nailed to walls all showing the same, silent images from what looked like a news station. Words in little black boxes ran on the bottom of the screen. Some machines with wrapped food were in a corner, but he didn’t know how those worked and he didn’t have an appetite besides. Or money. Those things needed money. What did money look like?It didn’t matter; the smell of the Tifari was still in his gut. The very idea of eating nauseated him right now. There had been human meat on that big table, had sworn there had been giant goblets of blood, he had seen entire body parts falling from plates to the floor around him…Kyoka and Ochaco collapsed next to each other on one of the bigger couches. They huddled close, both of them whispering low and shaking in each others’ arms. He was strongly tempted to go over to them, to hold his sisters and to let them know that he had their backs even now, but there was –Deku.Izuku was standing there, blanket over his shoulders and clutched close, looking entirely lost.Not ten feet away, staring at Deku with the same gaze Katsuki had once seen on an extremely hungry cat, was the villain girl Toga. Her eyes were locked on the verdette.Wait. Shit. Hadn’t the 1-A kids said that Toga had a really creepy fixation on Midoriya? That, when they had been attacked at the summer camp, that Toga had said some really creepy stuff to him? And stupid Deku was literally exactly like him…Katsuki couldn’t rush himself over any quicker if he had tried.Someone else beat him to the punch; Hagakure – blanket wrapped around her chest like the pictures he had seen of ancient Greeks – got in the way, standing between the blonde villain and her target.“…Oh!” Toga suddenly yelped; the look in her eyes slowly faded to something more… Natural? Not creepy? “That’s not Izuku-kun, is it?”“Uh –” Deku tried to say, looking startled.“Nope,” Katsuki said as soon as he got close enough to say it. “Not from here, anyway.”“Please don’t do anything creepy,” Hagakure sounded both tired and angry. “None of us want to deal with that right now.”“I won’t!” Toga raised her hands in defense, but a – nervous? – smile was on her face. “It’s just been a hell of a long day and I didn’t know it wasn’t Izuku for a minute.”“But I’m –” Deku, the idiot, still tried to say things.“She means the one from this universe, Deku.” Katsuki couldn’t believe he had to say it out loud.“Oh.” Came the embarrassed reply from the idiot in question. “Right. Different universe.”“Okay, so,” Hagakure might have been glaring; she had the tone in her voice that Tooru had whenever she was particularly pissed off. “Leave us alone, okay?”“Hey, sure, not a problem. I just,” Toga took a breath. “I just wanted to say that… I think things are different now. For everybody.”“What?” Katsuki blinked.“The doctors asked Twice to help him make doubles for blood transfusions,” Toga said quietly. “Spinner’s in an OR, and big boss Shigaraki is moping in a waiting room. Shiggy told me what Comps did at that crazy school, and I almost got eaten a couple hours ago.” She frowned, and Katsuki thought she looked confused. “They’ve been working with the Pros this whole time, and… And Ojiro-kun is going to survive. I know he is. He’s gonna be okay.”Was this her way of apologizing? Was it a warning? Katsuki didn’t know what to make of it. Should he be alarmed?“Oh,” Hagakure’s voice came just as subdued. “Did you sleep with him?”
What?!
The question came so out of left field that Katsuki physically choked on nothing but air. Behind him, he could hear both Kyoka and Ochaco let out loud gasps.Toga simply stopped. She blinked rapidly. “What?”“You were locked somewhere with him the whole time,” Hagakure said it all incredibly calmly. “And now you’re calling him Ojiro-kun and acting like you care if he’s okay or not.”Toga stared at her. She looked like she couldn’t decide how to react to the question. After a few seconds, she settled on laughing. “Oh my god! No! I mean, damn, I wouldn’t have minded, but he was creeped out by me the entire time! We were locked in this stupid giant closet and he slept on the goddamn coat rack bar so I couldn’t even get near him if I wanted to!”Katsuki looked to Hagakure; he could have sworn she was looking back at him, so he tried to ask via hand gestures what the hell? He hoped his facial expressions asked the question.Hagakure didn’t answer him. “So… So you just… Hope he’s okay because…?”“Because he deserves it.” Toga straightened and set her hands on her hips. “If it wasn’t for him… Look, he didn’t have to give me his blood or teach me how to use his stupid tail or anything. But I’m pretty sure we’d both be dead right now if he didn’t. Everything’s gone bonkers since this whole alternate universe thing went down, things’r messed up and different, and he knew it, too. He could’ve refused to help me out of spite and he didn’t. I don’t meet a lot of people like that out there.”Katsuki stared at her.Hagakure had gone quiet.“Anyway, that’s all I wanted to say.” Toga put that crazed grin on her face again, but it looked strained. “Seeya!”And just like that, she started to walk away.“H-Hold up!” Katsuki sputtered.“Huh?” At least Toga stopped.“I heard you did some really stupid shit to the U.A. guys a while back,” Katsuki wasn’t really sure where his own train of thought was going, but it was on the tracks and there was no stopping it now. “But if this whole thing isn’t done, if more shit hits the fan, we’ll probably have to work together again. So, uh, don’t do any more stupid shit, okay?”Toga stared at him. Hagakure was probably staring at him. Hell, Kyoka and Ochaco hadn’t said a goddamn thing in the past few minutes and even Izuku had gone silent.“You’re not like Bakugo.” Toga said after a few very long seconds. “But you’re still cute.”He thought there would be more to this. Some crazy laughter like he had heard on the helicopter, maybe an open threat or two, something to match the stories he had heard from his local self. But none of that was here; she seemed more like Himiko. He could have mistaken her for the other if she had her numbers.But none of the insanity he had expected happened. Instead, the villain girl just… Walked away. The door quietly slid shut behind her, refusing to slam in a way that was still so different from the house.“…What the fuck was that?” Kyoka asked from the couch.Katsuki didn’t have an answer.-------------------------According to the clock on the wall, Aizawa had been asleep for either three hours or fifteen hours. Honestly, both were far too long to be out of touch with things.When he sat up, feeling drained and weak, he noticed two things right off the bat: First, that there was a heavy bandage around his head and, secondly, that some of his hair might have been shaven off. Had he needed stitches? Had that All Might knockoff thrown him to that table hard enough to crack his head open? How the hell had he not noticed his own head being hit like that? There had been pain, sure, but… Really?He hoped he hadn’t been in a coma or something. Shit, but that would be the last thing he needed. Getting off of the bed proved to be only a small trial – woozy for a moment, but once his feet were on the floor, he was fine – and finding his clothes folded on a chair came soon after.Someone had washed his hero uniform. It was regulation in only some hospitals as a favor to on-duty Pros and he usually didn’t care one way or the other, but after the insane last few weeks, well… He could appreciate this little thing.He didn’t bother taking the bandage off of his head. No point in that. If anything, it matched his hero costume. But behind the chair, stuck on the wall next to charts that he didn’t bother to read, was a calendar. There were little slash marks on days that had already passed and, thank whatever god was out there, but he really had only been out for a few hours.Good. He didn’t miss much, then. Had someone with a healing quirk been involved to help him along so fast? Did it matter?There was nothing left to do but to go home now, he supposed. The door wasn’t locked, and, as a pro hero, he was allowed to dismiss himself on his own recognizance if he so wished. There were no doctors or nurses watching over him, at any rate, so he had to assume that he was well enough to leave. The kids that hadn’t been hurt would have been picked up by U.A. or, in Hagakure’s case, her parents by now. No one was waiting for him to take charge. Not right now, anyway.He could just… Go.The hallways of the hospital were quiet but not in a particularly troubling way. Outside of national emergencies or TV dramas, medical centers tended to be subdued. A few beeping noises from patients’ rooms went off here and there, the sound of wheelchairs in the hall, and the echoing of TVs and laughter from different rooms as people tried to stay upbeat despite whatever injury or ailment they had. They were not in the aftermath of something as big as the Kamino Incident; it was an average day.There was the brief temptation to head to the front desk and to ask about how certain people were doing but that would be a dead end and he knew it. Aizawa wasn’t blood related to any of the pros or kids that had been hurt; he had no legal authority to so much as know if they were alive or dead. Or who even was hurt, technically. Sometimes, medical staff would do favors for Pros by sliding them information, but he didn’t want to test the waters here.Yet, it still bothered him; that he would only know by the police or, worse, from a news report, if anything had happened. If Ojiro hadn’t made it through surgery, his students would probably know before he did.The last time he had seen that boy, he had been bleeding horrifically, puncture wound through his entire body, tail broken in multiple places – possibly leaving spinal damage, possibly paralysis – and that didn’t account for the heart implant that the kid still had from that horrific caretaker facility. He’d have to undergo multiple surgeries at the same time to address every life-threatening issue in a timely manner. It was a great deal for even a well-seasoned Pro’s body to take, let alone a 16-year-old.That was not to mention the current number two Pro, Hawks, who he could remember last seeing semi-conscious but not moving after hitting an oversized chair head-first. Aizawa was fairly certain that Edgeshot had made it out relatively unscathed – couldn’t recall anything major, at any rate – but those last minutes had been sheer chaos. The kids that had shown up could have been injured as well; he had only seen Katsuki in the helicopter, hadn’t even asked how the rest of them were.Strangely – at least, it felt strange – he found himself somewhat concerned for the villains. Aizawa jolted in surprise in the middle of an empty hallway at the realization that he actually wondered if Spinner was doing alright after being impaled by a giant shard of glass, what had probably been part of that container a nomu had made. He wondered, as well, if Toga had been hurt at any point.Well, he supposed, that was the difference between heroes and villains; heroes cared.Though, Spinner had been offering his help at the resistance headquarters, had helped them cook, and the why of that still left confusion.Damnit. Everything got complicated.In the hallway, a particular sign caught Aizawa’s attention. A small black arrow, underneath a dozen or so other arrows pointing in different directions, showing the way to the morgue.Pro Heroes were technically not allowed to freely walk around hospitals and secure areas unless it was part of an investigation or a matter they were currently involved in. True, Aizawa knew he couldn’t ask about the specific welfare of an individual, but he could check the morgue to make certain a specific body was – or was not – present and accounted for.It only felt a little bit shady. Just a little.Aizawa headed where the arrow pointed.The closer he came to the area in question, the fewer patient rooms there were. At some point, the additional rooms simply halted, leaving a long, entirely empty corridor – save for a single restroom and a couple of vending machines – entirely devoid of any extra spaces. In front of the large double-doors – and the closer he came to them, the colder things became – was a sink, a large pile of clean towels, and multiple sets of gear that was similar to those used in operating rooms. A mask, goggles, plastic gloves, a thin blue open-back gown and a similarly blue-coated hairnet. There were also several bottles of antiviral hand creams.Either someone working here was a germaphobe – which would be a strange issue to have as an employee of a hospital – or these things were necessary for a reason. Aizawa decided not to question it and to put it all on over his hero costume. It fit well enough.There were no voices coming from inside the morgue and, upon swinging open the double doors, found no one in his immediate view. This was a good sign; no one in the morgue meant that there were no bodies that immediately needed their attention. That no one had died that recently.The walls, though, were covered in the three-stacked-high mini doors; what amounted to long refrigerators for the preservation of corpses. There were some that were visibly occupied – notes here and there – but the dates on those had passed and the ages of the deceased didn’t match. None from today; no one from the rescue op.A portable curtain separated part of the massive room. Aizawa turned the corner and stopped in his tracks. At first, all he noticed was the person standing there, looking down at the body on a gurney; then, he noticed that there was, in fact, a body on that gurney.Shigaraki stood there, lacking the hands that usually covered his body. For some reason, the villain had decided to follow hospital protocol and wore the same protective gear that had been waiting in front of the morgue – minus the gloves. He likely couldn’t wear them unless he snipped a finger off each glove – like Tenko did to get around his quirk – and that would defeat the purpose.The body in front of him was missing its head. As well, the skin was bubbled, overly browned and – now that Aizawa noticed it past the sheer cold – had the faint scent of cooked meat.Someone in the rescue party – probably someone from the helicopter brigade – had the frame of mind to pick up the roasted body that had been at the feast. A quick glance around revealed a nearby table, similarly hidden behind the curtain, held more pieces of cooked human: fried fingers, an arm and a leg that appeared to have been broiled and seasoned, and several oversized sushi slices.“None of yours are dead, if you’re wondering.” Shigaraki was the first to speak. “At least, not yet. The tailed kid is still in surgery as far as I know.”Aizawa frowned; the head of the League of Villains had actually asked about Ojiro’s welfare? “Did you come here to see if any of yours were dead?”“Yep.” Shigaraki finally turned to look back at him; he was wearing the hospital mask, but his eyes were smoldering with fury. “She went down fighting, by the way.”“She?” Aizawa looked at the body.And it had once been a girl. Not quite a woman, judging by the size of the corpse, but there were visible breasts. The head had been cut off, but, even from where he stood, Aizawa could see the remains of thick black numbers on half of her neck.“Read the autopsy,” Shigaraki gestured vaguely to a chart on a table. “Foreign DNA under the fingernails that didn’t match hers. How the hell they even get DNA after something like this, I don’t know, but they did.” He began to scratch his neck.“Why do you care?” Aizawa tried not to make it sound like an accusation; Shigaraki was dangerous when he was in a good mood and he certainly wasn’t right now. “I would have thought you’d leave as soon as you could.”The scratching was picking up the pace. Soon, both of Shigaraki’s hands were scratching at his own throat. He glared daggers. “Let me make this perfectly clear, pro hero.” He spat it like a curse. “I still hate you. I loathe everything about the oh-so-perfect hero society and the lies it tells. But Toga told me that they made her sit on a giant dinner plate right next to your U.A. brat and I seriously doubt that, when those things come back, they’re going to ask about our political stances or how we feel about things before they try to eat us.”Something inside Aizawa was actually glad to hear this. “So you think this isn’t over, either.”“That was one queen.” Shigaraki paused, scratching coming to a brief halt but then quickly picked up again “I think Toga said it was a queen. But if those things took over that whole planet, there’s going to be other countries and other stupid governments and whole lot more of them.” The scratches were starting to leave red lines. “Hell, if anything, this is only the start.”Aizawa kept eye contact with Shigaraki; the villain very clearly did not like the notion of having to work with heroes – it was what was likely setting off the scratch-fest – but he had enough sense to know when to put aside his own biases. It was, by all accounts, honestly a good sign for his state of mind; a good sign for rehabilitation. “Are you proposing a truce of sorts?”Shigaraki let out a snort. “Of sorts. Yeah.” He looked back at the roasted body on the table. “Compress and Twice told me that that people there are raised on farms as livestock. Didn’t believe them when they said it.”Something about the idea of eating people bothered Shigaraki. Honestly, Aizawa hadn’t been sure anything could bother this particular villain, but he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.Well, if they were in on this – if the villains wanted to work with the police and heroes in the future to stop this potential invasion – if they were in for a penny, they may as well go in for a pound. “Did your allies tell you what they call themselves?”“What?” Shigaraki looked back at him, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “The so-called ‘demons’?”“They call themselves, as a species, nomu.”Shigaraki’s eyes widened and he was visibly and clearly startled. The scratching stopped “Nomu?”“Don’t ask me why or how.” Aizawa gave a small shrug. “The resistance unit that we met claimed that a good chunk of history had either been lost or wiped. They don’t know the when or the how of when these nomu came to exist or where the name ‘nomu’ even came from but considering that they predate yours by at least five centuries, it could strictly be coincidence.”Shigaraki did not look like he believed that one bit and Aizawa couldn’t blame him for that. The confusion on his face was almost comical and, after a few seconds, the villain let out a deep breath. “Huh.”“One more thing,” Aizawa could not think of any particular reason to hide this information. “A version of you works with the resistance. I think he was in training to take over said resistance, but he was with us for most of the rescue operation. He had a different name, though. Tenko.”That garnered a severe reaction; somehow, Shigaraki managed to pale worse despite his usual near-deathly visage. His entire body stiffened. “…Tenko. And he’s with the resistance?” A small scratch at his neck. “Heh. I’m a villain in two worlds.”Aizawa decided that he didn’t want to get in to a debate about what was and wasn’t a villain here and now. So, he said nothing.Shigaraki let out a small chuckle and gave a solid nod. “Appreciate the info, hero. Not sure where this is going to go from here, but I’ll make sure mine lay low until we know where everything stands. But I have the feeling it won’t be long before more… Nomu pop up around.”A month and a half ago, that would have been one hell of a threat. Now, Aizawa couldn’t help but find a strange humor in how much things have changed in such a short span of time. He gave the villain a small nod.Then, the head of the League quietly walked out of the morgue.Once he was gone, Aizawa looked back at the roasted corpse.It had been close. If that nomu queen hadn’t wanted to have her dinner served to her raw, they very well could have had both Ojiro and Toga in here instead. The only reason this girl was dead, headless and roasted hopefully after she had died, was because she hadn’t been part of the main course.It was a goddamn miracle that everyone came out still breathing.Ojiro had better survive. Aizawa wasn’t sure what he would do if the boy died on the operating table after everything.The autopsy report was on a chart next to the table. Aizawa picked it up to give it a solid read.Most of the medical jargon was beyond him, but a good bit of it could be made out. Shigaraki hadn’t been making things up; there was DNA that didn’t match the body under her fingernails. She had gone down scratching and clawing, at most likely a nomu, probably picked from a farm like a cow or sheep by a sensei who was enslaved themselves. This girl must have known she was going to die – or, at least, was in danger – or she wouldn’t have fought at all.A DNA match to see if she could be matched to anyone in this universe was still pending, but a quirk analysis had been performed.
Probable age of death: 14-17Probable cause of death: Homicide: Cardiac punctureProbable quirk: Fungal enlargement and probable cultivation, possible germination of fungi-based matter
Aizawa slowly put the clipped stack of papers where he had found them and decided that he would not think about it at all until a local genetic match was solidly found.----------------------Hagakure had come home.Or, rather, she had come back to the dorm. Why she hadn’t rushed right to her real home and to her parents after spending a small eternity of being in another universe, none of the remaining members of 1-A wanted to ask.The only thing that mattered was that she was okay – well, alive – and that she was back with them.She was, however, no where near ‘okay’; she was crying softly even as she walked in, led through the front door by a very concerned and sad-looking Vlad. Terror spread through the class from there, spawned strictly by Hagakure’s tears and Vlad’s facial expression.“Oh my god!” Ashido already had blankets ready on the couch. “We need hot cocoa, stat!”“On it!” Uraraka was already in the kitchen with a carton of milk in hand. Half of them had been in the lounge when Hagakure had texted them and the rest had soon filed in. They had all been waiting for her; most of them – most notably the boys – had the sense to hang back and to give her space.Asui led the invisible girl to a couch and gently set her down. “Can you tell us what happened, kero?”“Is Ojiro dead?”“Goddamit, Kaminari!” Bakugo snarled. “Don’t be an idiot!”“Not cool.” Kirishima echoed.“It’s what we’re all thinking!” Kaminari sputtered but looked deathly worried.“But you don’t just say it like that…!” Sero stared at the electric blonde.“H-he’s not dead…” Hagakure sniffled. “But… But he’s in the hospital and he got stabbed really bad and his tail was broken to pieces and he – he – I saw him hit the ground so hard…!” She let out a loud sob.Multiple cups of hot chocolate came from the kitchen. The eighteen young men and women huddled around their weeping classmate and gave her the best comfort that they could.There was nothing else that they could do.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Katsuki had never slept so long or so deeply in his entire life.Later, he would find it at odd that he could remember being at the hospital and the conversations that happened there so crisp and clear, yet everything that followed was coated in a fog. He remembered the car – the first time he had actually been inside one, though he hadn’t been in the frame of mind to enjoy it – and remembered Midnight driving them back. Or were hero names strictly for on duty stuff? Kayama-Sensei? Nemuri? Why were names so difficult in this universe? People didn’t need more than one name.In the car, he suspected she might have used her quirk on them. At least, she probably used a tiny bit of her quirk. Maybe they had even needed it; god knows he had been high strung after that shitshow of a fight/escape/cross universe hop/nomu dinner gone bad.Whatever the reason, he barely remembered getting into the dorm building. He did remember his brothers and sisters yelling in shocked alarm when they showed up, a few calls for his name – for all of their names, including a few stunned Izuku?!s, but at the time, he just… Hadn’t cared. Couldn’t think through it. Just wanted to sleep.It was a miracle he got to the right room. It wasn’t necessarily his room, per se – the bottom of a bunk bed across from another that he had shared with three of the boys since getting into this universe – but he faceplanted in it and slept like the dead all the same.There were no dreams but no nightmares either. It was an empty sleep. Refreshing, but uneventful. Under any other circumstances, he would have called it the best sleep of his life.What woke him up were the noises.At first, they didn’t quite register right. The sounds of dozens of kids screeching and laughing had been something he had heard every day growing up; he had learned very young how to tune it out to get a few extra minutes of shut-eye. The all-too-familiar calls for you need to tie your shoes first and don’t forget to brush your teeth went through Katsuki’s muddled, slightly annoyed mind without much of a care. A particular yell of yes, you have to wear pants jolted him a little farther into reality strictly out of sheer curiosity.Then it hit him that he was actually hearing everybody up at the same time. It wasn’t something he had heard since they had left the house; without books to study from or the daily exams sensei had always given them, there had been no real reason to wake up at all. Everything with the people here had been too informal and, frankly, too much of a mess for any real schedule to form.So why the hell was everyone up?Katsuki returned to the land of the conscious to find himself alone. He was the only one still in bed – still wearing the clothes he had shown up in with last night – and probably looked like shit for it. Pushing himself out of the comfort of blankets and these weird, amazing mattresses made of some kind of foam was harder than it should have been. Still, up he got, and he opened the door without anyone nagging him to do it.In the hallway, it was pure chaos.Well, the same kind of chaos that had been every morning for most of his life.There were more than fifty of them put together and a majority of them were under the age of twelve. Out of that lot – and even out of some of the older kids – were those that not only were delighted to cause mischief but did their damned best to inspire others to do the same. Even back at the house, sensei – who was gone now, this time for good, they had left him bleeding out on the floor, but why did it hurt to think about? – couldn’t handle them all on his own. The older kids had to help wrangle the younger.That had not changed. Even in this universe.Two very little boys ran past him in the hall, cackling wildly and both not wearing any clothes below the waist. Mina – snarling furiously and holding said clothing – chased them. Though, she wasn’t using her quirk to make the floor slippery in front of them, so that was going significantly better than usual. Tsu-chan was in the process of successfully wrangling little Sakura down, who had, as she was prone to do, clung to the ceiling with her sticky skin. By the elevators – weird metal death boxes, he was never going to get in to one if he could help it –, Denki had somehow managed to line up the kids who were actually behaving into neat rows. In height order, even. There had once been a time not too long ago where the electric blonde would have been one of the idiots running around with no pants.Times changed, Katsuki supposed. People changed with it. And a whole lot had changed very recently.A sigh came from behind him. The turn of his head revealed Momo, holding one of the babies, who just gave the boys Mina was still chasing a soft frown. “Honestly.” She then smiled at him. “Good morning, Kacchan. Did you sleep well?”“Uh, yeah.” Katsuki boggled; still, it was calming to see everything so… Normal. “Why’s everybody up? Where’s everyone going?”“Oh, to school.” Momo said with a smile.His brain wanted to say both ‘what’ and ‘huh’ at the same time. What came out of his mouth was a deeply baffled, “Haah?”Momo laughed; a soft, amused giggle. The baby in her arms – one of the new ones, the ones that came from the house weeks after their initial escape, when they thought sensei had risked his life for them – burbled happily. “The people here have set up tutoring for us. I think they’re worried that we’re too far behind the education system they have here. They’re even letting us sit in on the heroics courses.” She paused. “I keep thinking there must be a catch, but…” The baby in her arms grabbed at a loose string of hair; Momo stopped to wiggle her fingers in front of the baby’s face, cooing as she did.It did sound a little too good to be true. And also a smidge insulting. They already took assessment tests and shit like that; how far behind could they really be?Though, considering they were never supposed to grow up to use any kind of education, meat meant for the slaughter…Huh. A wonder they were ever even taught how to read and write.“Would you like to join us?” Momo smiled, but it looked a little strained this time.Katsuki thought about it for all of two seconds. “Yeah. Sure. Why the hell not?”“Why the hell not!” Little Sakura copied from Tsuyu’s arms. She raised her little fists in the air to go with the word that she knew she should not be repeating.Katsuki rolled his eyes.Downstairs, things weren’t much better.The problem was that there simply were not enough chairs for everyone. Katsuki had the feeling that this place, designed for twenty teenagers and not a whole gaggle of little kids, had not been made with the right amount of room. Sure, tables and chairs had been brought in, but there just was not enough space for them all. Someone – probably several someones – had attempted to cook a large-scale breakfast like there had been at the house. Dozens of plates of omurice sat around. Some kids even sat on the floor to eat it.On the couches next to the television that sat quiet and black-screened, Katsuki spotted both Ochaco and Kyoka. Hanta sat with them, surrounded by at least ten of the others along various ages. They didn’t look troubled, though; it didn’t look like anyone was pushing them for any information or to relive the past week.Sitting back against one chair was Mashirao. He looked pale and tired but the tailed blonde gave him a curt nod of greeting.Katsuki took three steps towards the lounge.Then, from the bare edge of his hearing, barely above the din of everyone else’s chatter, came a loud, “Yes! The birds! I remember that!”Izuku. Deku.Katsuki whirled at the noise; the door to the courtyard – tiny compared to the grounds around the house – was wide open. A few of them had apparently decided to eat out there; Deku was one of them.Sitting on a weird s-shaped bench sat Mezo. Even from this distance, the humor around his eyes were clear. Deku sat a few spaces away.The rush to get closer felt like thunder through his body.“Oh my god, I remember the whole thing!” Deku said again; he set his fork on the plate on his lap and looked at nothing with wide, stunned eyes and the edge of a smile on his lips. “Everyone was scared of birds for months! I… I think another kid’s quirk did that, right?”“Yep.” Mezo chuckled beneath his mask; he had a habit of waking up before everyone else to eat to avoid anyone seeing his face and must have done so already. “Out of all the things about me, I should have known you’d remember the incident.”Deku briefly smiled so bright that it could have blocked out the sun. Then, it faded into something more shaky. “It was a boy who called the birds, right? I think a boy. Is he… Was he…?”“Oh, Koji’s over there.” Mezo pointed to the corner of the courtyard.Koji sat quietly on the ground, birds and squirrels around him like a storybook princess, as he happily ate his breakfast.Deku deflated in relief.It was as if he had never left them. As if Deku was being reunited after only a few weeks, not after ten years. The nerd was back home, was back with them, and the others were already welcoming him back into the fold.Katsuki felt a deep, warm joy around his brain. It chased away the last of the fog.He wanted to join the conversation – to talk to Deku after so many years without the chaos of a fight, without the shadow of sensei, without death hanging around them – but the green-haired idiot just looked so comfortable and so happy right here, right now –Katsuki felt stuck at the door to the courtyard, as if his feet were glued to the floor.Mezo was the first to notice him. “Kacchan?”Then, Deku was looking up at him.“Uh,” Now that he was here, Katsuki had absolutely no idea what to say. “Hey.”It wound up not mattering; Deku stood from his seat at the edge of the bench, took a quick awkward look around, set his half-eaten breakfast where he had been sitting, and then rushed towards him.Then, Katsuki was wrapped in a hug. Feeling as if a weight had dropped from his shoulders, he returned it. “Fuck…!”“There are little kids around, Kacchan.” Mezo said softly.“I don’t care right now!” Katsuki sputtered.“Everyone calls you ‘Kacchan’, still?” Deku asked as he hesitantly pulled away from the hug.“It kinda stuck, yeah. Left your own legacy with that stupid nickname, nerd.” Katsuki shook his head a little. “Shit, Deku, I didn’t even think to check on you when I woke up –”“I think that woman used her quirk –” Deku tried to explain it away.“Doesn’t matter!” Katsuki stared at the verdette in the eyes; wide and gleaming. “How’r you holding up?”“I’m… Okay?” Deku did not sound sure. “Everything’s surreal. Everything happened so fast, and I only sort of know a fraction of the people here and…” He gulped.“What?” Katsuki frowned intensely. “What is it?”A small flush formed along those freckles. “Showers are weird and I don’t like them.”It took a moment for that to register.Then, Katsuki burst out laughing. “Oh my god.”“I’ve only had baths before!” Deku sputtered. “I know beggers shouldn’t be choosers…”“We’ll figure it out.” Katsuki said while still laughing.Nearby, even Mezo was chuckling in that quiet way of his, but there was a strain to it. After a brief quiet moment, the taller teenager looked at him. “Sensei didn’t make it back, did he?”Shit.At first, Katsuki wasn’t sure how to answer it. Slowly, he shook his head. “No. ‘Fraid he didn’t.”“Figured.” Mezo’s shoulders slumped. “When you all came in last night with bloodstains, most of us older kids started talking. Went over to the other buildings to ask. No one’d give us a solid answer.” An exhale of breath. “I figured there’d be casualties, but… The others aren’t going to like it.”Something inside of Katsuki felt strained, a clenching inside of his gut. It came with the horrid feeling that if the others knew the truth about what Sensei Shota had done back there, something would unravel. He looked at Deku before looking to the ground. “It was a clusterfuck at the end of it. Honestly, I didn’t know who was dead or not when the giant… Metal, uh…” A blink. “…Vehicles. Things. Shit, I have no idea what the hell they were, but they were metal and flying. They swooped in and picked us up…”“I get it.” Mezo said with a nod. “It’s okay. We’ve read about things like this, right? It’s a war. People die.”Read about but so far only a few of them had experienced.“You should wash up, Kacchan.” Deku said after a few seconds. “You look like you could use it.”It sounded more insulting than the nerd probably intended, but there was truth to it. Katsuki could remember last changing clothes back before heading in to the nomu city but that had been… Two days ago? Three? Maybe just one very, very long day?“Yeah.” Katsuki agreed. “I’ll be back in a bit.”He headed back inside. The few minute walk took him past the lounge again. Both Kyoka and Ochaco hadn’t moved from their seats and Mashirao still lounged – though he looked more like he had collapsed – now on two thirds of a sofa. Hanta had left, but a quick glance revealed him across the room, getting another plate of food. Katsuki paused for a moment in front of the couches, feeling as if he should say something to the three of them there.They noticed his lingering.“Kacchan,” Kyoka gave him a nod. “Don’t worry about us. We’re fine.”“Yeah,” Ochaco echoed. “We haven’t said much to the others yet.”Katsuki raised a brow at the phrasing. Then, he nodded. “Think they figured out the big stuff anyway.”Both Ochaco and Kyoka’s eyes lit up; they understood the underlying message. To run with whatever everyone else already believed, what they already were willing to take as truth.Then, Katsuki looked at Mashirao. “You look like shit.”On the couch, Mashirao sputtered in surprise. “Thanks? Nice to see you, too.”Katsuki smirked. “How are you holding up?”Mashirao gave him a genuine, if tired smile. “Better. I’ve only been back a couple of days and the medicine’s making it hard to stay awake for long, but I think I just need… Time?”Katsuki blinked. “Medicine?”“From the hospital!” Came from halfway across the room. “And you better be taking it!”Katuski – along with half the people around the entire kitchen and lounge – turned to stare at Mei, who was currently scooping up omurice into her own plate. She stared daggers at the direction of the couch. More specifically at Mashirao. “It’s to make sure you don’t get an infection, and I know you keep trying to skip taking it! You better not be!”Next to the pink-haired girl stood Himiko – not Toga, the numbers on her neck were bold black and she somehow had a different look to her face besides, something about her eyes – who stared with the same amusement as everyone else. Himiko must not have had anywhere else to go; she was now one of theirs but also not one of theirs. A sister from another house.It didn’t matter. They were all in this together, now.Still, if Mei trusted whatever those doctors had given Mashirao and trusted Himiko’s presence, both things must have been right to do. Still, he raised a brow at this argument.“Fine, if you say so, mom.” Mashirao called back but laughed as he did.“I am older than you!” Mei put her plate on a table and set her hands on her hips.“By a month!” Mashirao laughed.“Calm it, you two.” Katsuki shook his head but barely held back the pure relief; everything was just so damn normal around here. Mashirao must have just come back from pure hell and still fell back into things.Just like Deku. No matter what, they were still family. Everything melted back in to place.“I’m just saying that he should be taking it easy!” Mei picked up her plate again. “I don’t think he should be moving around for at least a week!”On the couch, Mashirao rolled his eyes. “Fine…”“I’ll be watching!” Mei made sure to flash her quirk, eyes gleaming for a moment, just to accentuate her point. “I will build something to keep you from moving, don’t think I won’t!”Katsuki rolled his eyes and walked away from the lounge.The boys and girls had separate bathing areas. Why that was, he honestly had no idea. Back at the house, they had one giant wing of the building that served as a general bathing area for all of them, typically used all at the same time. It had been completely normal to have the older kids help the younger wash up in the smaller tubs, to use buckets for the babies, and to have a free-for-all on the stack of towels and clothes after the fact.Only half of that remained here; there were still piles of towels and clothes – folded clean and thrown around in a messy pile for the used – but why the gender wall? Katsuki didn’t really get it.Either way, with everyone else eating breakfast, it felt incredibly weird bathing alone. The showers here had been quickly adapted to a month ago and it was just so… Quiet. Just himself and his thoughts.There wasn’t a whole lot of thinking, though. Katsuki let the waterfall of warmth go over him, soaped up with the absolutely heavenly scents that existed in this insane universe, and then chose clothes at random from the stack that looked like it would fit.By the time he was done, everyone else was just about finished with breakfast. He wasn’t even hungry; the image of roasted corpses still lingered at the back of his mind.“Kacchan…” Mei’s voice called from the kitchen.Katsuki looked over to find her sitting with a very nervous-looking Shoto. The red-and-white haired kid wasn’t even looking at him, eyes wide and aimed at the floor.“What happened?” Katsuki asked with a pit starting to form in his gut.“Oh, nothing serious.” Mei looked uncharacteristically nervous. “I just wanted to let you know that, uhm… Shoto and I have decided that we want to start… Dating.”Katsuki blinked. He stared at them. That pit was dissolving into sheer confusion. “…Dating?”“Yeah.” Mei glanced at Shoto and then back. “And I wanted to know how you… Felt about that?”Shoto’s fingers wrapped around one of Mei’s hands. She returned the gesture.“…Wha…” Katsuki blinked several more times. “You wanna… Date each other?”“Yeah.” Shoto finally said something.The wheels in Katsuki’s head were turning, but they kept stalling. It took a few stuttering rotations of the cogs before they picked up speed. “For shit’s sake, I’m not like…” What the hell was this? “I’m not the mob boss of the family, you idiots! If you want to date, go at it!”“You’re okay with this?” Shoto looked up with surprise, but he seemed happy.“Yeah!” Katsuki stared at them. “What the fu –” Little kids were around and staring. Crap!” “— fudge, you wanted my blessing?! Fine, you have my creepy mafia blessing.”Mei released a breath of relief; a smile crossed her face. “Thanks, Kacchan.”Under the table, their hands clutched stronger.“Idiots.” Katsuki shook his head and walked away from this mess.Once everyone was finished with breakfast, with the little kids lined up and actually behaving for a solid five minutes, they walked out of the building in relatively high spirits. Chatter went around, several of them were laughing, and everyone seemed to be… Doing okay.It felt like a miracle.They weren’t the only ones up. From the other dorm buildings came the students that belonged here, all of them in their gray and green uniforms – compared to the random mess of colors they were in – and a few of them waved at them on their way to the main building.They were not headed for the main building.“Huh?” Katsuki blinked once he noticed it. “Wait, why are we heading for the gyms?”“Oh, that.” Momo said from nearby, no longer carrying a baby. “Vlad-sensei is teaching both of the first-year courses and invited us to join them, and I suppose the classrooms inside simply weren’t large enough.”“Huh.” It made sense. Still, Katsuki felt a bit strange about it. “Weird.”The walk wasn’t particularly far, if a little cold. In that other universe, it had been so warm that Katsuki had been sweating underneath the nomu disguise and even the weird frilly shirt that he had worn in the human part of the city had itched and felt uncomfortable in the late spring heat. Here, it was the start of winter; he had a coat on, made of some puffy kind of fabric that was soft and warm, but he could still see his breath in front of his face. It wasn’t snowing, but he thought that it might soon.Along the way, most of them went down different paths; the little kids met a softly smiling Cementoss – who wasn’t wearing a jacket at all – and the preteens, just about everyone younger than fifteen and everyone older than ten, were led away by a woman who vaguely resembled a dog with big, floppy ears and a small snout.It left just the older ones to head to the gym. It was in front of the building that they bumped in to the near-assembled mass of 1-A and 1-B. “We aren’t going back to our classrooms?” One of the 1-B girls – the short one with the mushroom quirk and Katsuki could not recall her name – murmured aloud. “Isn’t Aizawa-sensei back?”“Oh, you didn’t hear?” Monoma chuckled. “I asked Vlad-sensei about it last night. Apparently, Principal Nezu threatened to fire and then rehire him if he didn’t take two weeks off.”Laughter went around at that.On his end, Katsuki shook his head but found the humor in it; it sounded exactly like the only thing that could keep Eraserhead from forcing himself back in to teaching.“That,” A quiet, strained-sounding voice came from a girl with no face. “And Aizawa-sensei released himself from the hospital without a doctor actually letting him leave.”The mass of students turned to look at Hagakure.Katsuki sputtered; what the hell was she doing here? If anyone needed a break, it would be her. “Shouldn’t you be resting?”Hagakure’s uniform turned in his direction. “Shouldn’t you?”Katsuki stared. “But the tailed guy… I mean, all of mine are here, but your boyfriend ain’t!”That caused Hagakure to pause. Without any visible body parts, it looked as if she was simply standing stock still. It took a few seconds for her to form a response. “The hospital won’t let me in. I’m not related to Ojiro-kun. And I don’t know his parents’ phone numbers.” An audible breath. “But it’s okay. I’m going to go back after school and see if I can do anything. I’m sure he’s okay.”She didn’t sound sure.A silence fell over everything.“Besides,” Hagakure sounded like she hadn’t slept in weeks; there was a roughness to her voice. Maybe she had spent the night crying. It wouldn’t have surprised Katsuki if she had. “I wanted to thank you. You stuck with us even though you didn’t have anyone close to you to save.”Katsuki frowned at that. “What’r you talking about? Aren’t you a heroism student? Isn’t your whole thing about saving people?”“Heroics.” Was Hagakure correcting him? Really? “And you aren’t a –”“Okay, look,” Katsuki took a deep breath to steady himself; loudly swearing and cursing was great to get out all the pent-up emotions but was horrible for actually talking to people, no matter how good it felt. “I know you’re trying your best to think about all of us as different people from the people you know, and thank god for that, because at least half the idiots we’ve met have had the problem of thinking we’re the same people, or ‘another version’ or whatever the fuck, but we’re not lesser versions! What, you think I’d only care about my own family and to fuck with everyone else?!”“Of course not!” Hagakure looked like she was setting her hands on her hips, judging by the movements of her long sleeves. “You’re as brave and as smart as any Pro, and I really think you should go to a heroics school after you can actually go to school, but I just wanted to thank you for sticking around! I don’t know about anyone else, but I’ve been training myself up since I was a little kid for fighting and combat because I’ve always wanted to be a hero, but you… You didn’t have that. And you jumped in anyway and you stayed anyway and that’s why I wanted to thank you.”Well, now Katsuki felt horrible. And like an idiot. He clenched his fists and could feel the heat in his face.He didn’t say anything else as they all headed inside of the gym.--------------------------This was stupid. This was incredibly ill-advised and not to mention insulting to his very sensibilities.Aizawa never considered himself much of a sore loser, and yet here he was, pouting in his on-site apartment at U.A.It had been a dirty tactic on the part of the principal; threatening to fire and then re-hire him, essentially forcing him to take a leave of absence. He was fine, for goodness sake, and even from his window he could see the children he had been on that mission with going to class. Why weren’t any of them being forced to take some leave time?What was he going to do for two weeks? Nezu had somehow already convinced every independent heroics outlet and major agencies from giving him any missions and he suspected that even the police had been told not to let him help out in any capacity.Forced in to a vacation! He wasn’t a child, he couldn’t be grounded.Yet, here he was. In his apartment. Alone and deeply, incredibly annoyed.But that didn’t mean he couldn’t get something productive done.In his absence, paperwork had piled up, but not nearly as much as there should have been. Hizashi and possibly Vlad must have picked up some of it, but there were things left behind. The typical student transfer requests, test scores, the final exam layout that still needed his approval. Even the entrance exam results needed his direct stamp before the acceptance letters could be sent out.The first thing he decided to do was to look at that last bit; the entrance exam – the physical portion, anyway – was always at least mildly entertaining. Every year, without fail, it held a mix of students who performed incredibly and were perfectly prepared, sometimes even an awe to behold, and then a whole lot of kids who thought that they could place just by showing up.Hizashi had already gone through what the cameras has picked up from the exam and had attached files to the digital records. With nearly a thousand students vying for forty slots, they had to have a team just to go through it all, a vetting process that narrowed it down typically to a hundred. From there, it came to U.A.’s core staff to rule on different point percentages.Every once in a while, it came down to a coinflip. Identical scores in the 40th position. Aizawa disliked those the most.This time, thankfully, it didn’t seem to be nearly as close-cut. Technically, all he had to do was give a checkmark – the 40th beat the 41st by a fairly wide margin – and he’d meet the new students in a couple of months.But he had absolutely nothing else to do with his time right now.Goddam Nezu.So, he gave a solid look over the basic information. Names, ages and quirks. Aizawa blinked with surprise at the cursory glance over.A thirteen-year-old made it in this year. It wasn’t the youngest student to ever attend U.A. – there was this near-legendary tale of a ten-year-old super genius with an amazingly powerful quirk from thirty years or so ago – but it wasn’t something that came about often either.That video file was pulled up first.Then, Aizawa let out a deep sigh.The score had been achieved by more than half rescue points in the absolutely most stupid way possible.On the screen, a young would-be hero with some sort of metal-creating quirk threw instantly created bullets at the robots that counts for points. The problem was that the exam also had herds of robot sheep that ran on barely cognizant AI. The sheep were intended to represent civilians – people tended to just get in the way of supervillains in the street in real life, so why not a physical representation – but it seemed that this young man hadn’t grasped that aspect of the exam. So, the bullets went through the sheep and in to the robots, effectually putting his score in the negatives for every ‘civilian’ he killed while only gaining a fraction back from the large mechanical ‘villains’ taken down in the process.The thirteen-year-old – a young girl with long blue hair pulled back in to two neat braids – used what Aizawa initially thought was a water based quirk but might have been a fusion of water and wind. Whatever her quirk actually was, tiny waterspouts picked up the sheep and gently placed them out of the path of the hail of bullets, netting her an obscene amount of rescue points. The same quirk – the same swirling masses of water – were made giant and enlarged, barreling through the robots that had giant numbers on them to earn the combat points needed to push her ahead of the game.The idiot with the bullets ended up with possibly the lowest score in U.A. history. It was one thing to score zero points, but negative? And that many negative points?To top it all off, the exam had placed ‘safe zones’ around at random. Most of the applicants had ignored them, not understand what they were for. A few of the brighter ones – including this young lady – had put two and two together and the kid managed to sweep an entire herd in to the large round pen. She brought the ‘civilians’ to a ‘shelter’. More rescue points for that.It wasn’t until the girl on screen was forced to turn oddly – whirling in surprise when a malfunctioning metal lamb followed her outside of the safe zone, which was something it was absolutely not supposed to do – that the camera caught something on her neck.Numbers.Aizawa paused the recording. He zoomed in.Wait. Who was this kid?He had to pull up another file for this – a reference for the numbers on the kids neck, to identify which one belonged to who, if only to have it on record – and found it on the bottom of the chart.It was one of the kids from the other universe. One of the last arrivals. The girl that had been taken back through the portal that started it all, who he had personally seen screaming as the capture tape that belonged to his other self pulled her back a universe away. She was one of the kids Shota freed weeks later in what they had all thought was a brave act of betrayal against his nomu masters, but now Aizawa wasn’t so sure about.This little girl had only been in this universe for… A couple of weeks. If that. And she still jumped into this free-for-all exam? Did she even know what a Pro Hero was? What they did? Well, she obviously had some grasp of it if she had the sense to rescue the sheep.A few clicks brought up other video files. None of the other kids from that other universe did nearly as well, but none of them had done so horribly either. Average, at best. Not nearly enough to place.Aizawa suddenly wondered if, in that time spent trapped in that other universe, believing that she was going to die and be eaten, if that girl had spent the time honing her quirk for some sort of escape. She had a firm grasp of her abilities, judging by the fact that she didn’t destroy any of the sheep in her ferrying. What had this kid been through?Curiously, he pulled up the latest genetic matches. After the last of the kids had come through, they had taken samples as they had with the other children, just to see if they came up as technically-related to anyone on file. And yet… No. Nothing came up. The girl was a solid orphan, without any magical pro hero match that might adopt her out of sheer pity, she simply… Existed. She had nothing to lose by heading into that exam, he supposed, but none of the other applications did, either.There was a note attached to her file. A note from Hizashi. It was in capslock. ARE WE SURE ABOUT THIS??If Aizawa had not known who this girl was before, he wouldn’t have even thought about it. He would have approved it.Was he sure about this?Aizawa clicked a few buttons and, in an instant, the forty students were formally accepted in to U.A.Including the girl. Yamada Erika.Would make for an interesting year, all things considered.Not ten minutes later, his phone rang.Honestly, Aizawa suspected it might be Hizashi, calling in a panic about if they were really sure about this, and braced himself to be further annoyed. “Hello?”He paused. It was not Hizashi. “Yes, Aizawa speaking.”On the other end of the line, a calm voice droned on.Aizawa sat back in surprise. “You want to what?”------------------------It was after classes ended in the afternoon that everything went a little wild.During lunch, everyone had generally stuck to their own ‘groups’. 1-A and 1-B even ate separately at Lunch Rush’s cafeteria, and no one batted an eye at the mass of people that weren’t in uniform. The little kids even joined them, the younger ones waving crayon drawings, easily distracting everyone from everything from the sheer adorableness.It was the only reason Katsuki could think of that the two Izuku’s hadn’t bumped into each other before the afternoon.There hadn’t even been time to ask if one wanted to meet the other. Katsuki turned to Deku – his Izuku – and tried to get some words out.It didn’t happen. Deku just ran off, rushing to Midoriya as if he had been a friend that he hadn’t seen in ages.“…Huh.” Bakugo said from nearby, looking just as startled.“I was kinda just hoping they wouldn’t freak each other out.” Katsuki shrugged. “But they’re just… Talking.”“Better than I figured, too.” Bakugo looked on with a raised brow.A few seconds passed.“…And now Deku’s crying.” Katsuki sighed.“Heh, now we have two Dekus.” Bakugo smirked. A pause. “And now both of the stupid nerds are crying.”“Uhm,” Katsuki frowned. “I know Deku has freaky quirk issues, but Midoriya’s… Isn’t his quirk super-strength? Why are his tears…?”“Oh, Auntie Inko does that, too.” Bakugo shrugged. “Just a thing they do. Cries up for who knows what reason.”Katsuki paused. “Auntie Inko, huh…?”“Yeah.” Bakugo looked at him. “Tch. If you wanna meet his mom or, hell, my old hag and pops, we can probably set something up.”Katsuki wasn’t sure if he wanted to know why he called his mother an ‘old hag’ but decided now was not the time to ask. “Yeah. Maybe.”For the first few minutes of the cry-fest occurring a few feet away, both Bakugo and Katsuki – along with several other passerbys – stared with some level of awkwardness.Twenty minutes later, the whole thing was significantly less amusing when the two explosive blondes had to help the still weeping verdettes in to the 1-A dorm to calm down.In the end, both Katsuki and Izuku ended up staying until the late evening, simply talking and learning both with and from Bakugo and Midoriya.-------------------------It took four days of attempts at the hospital before Hagakure got anywhere.Every afternoon, the invisible girl would leave the campus after class and head directly for the hospital. For three days, she came back disappointed, empty-handed, but had the comfort of 1-A waiting for her.On the fourth attempt, everyone’s phones chimed at once from the group chat.“She got in!” Ashido hollered from the couch. “She bumped into his parents in the hospital!”Cheers came with it. But also nervous anticipation.A few seconds later, a single picture came through.Everything was quiet for a moment.“Oh.” Ashido said with significantly less enthusiasm.“He’s… Alive.” Midoriya offered but bit his lip as he said it.“Better than not.” Bakugo said with a tilt of his head.On multiple screens, the hospital bed Ojiro lay in was clear under the fluorescent lights. A blanket covered him up to the waist, revealing the bandages strung across his chest and the oxygen mask strapped to his face, but hid any gruesomeness that may have been further down. Underneath the gurney, his tail came out under a hole in the bed itself, the entire length of it wrapped in a long cast that was held in a straight-lined sling. Several IV bags were attached to his arm and even the lights couldn’t bring a flush to the death-pale shade of his skin. It certainly did nothing to hide the numbers on his neck that had not been there the last time any of them had seen him.Yet, despite it all, his eyes were open – if only barely – to stare at the camera.It took a few quiet, worried minutes for the next text to come.
The doctors said he’s going to be okay
All of 1-A practically collapsed as a single unit from sheer relief.-----------------------“Guys!” A girl screamed out of nowhere in sheer panic after classes a few days later; around the students leaving the large gym-turned-classroom, Katsuki turned to stare at Ashido, who had her gaze locked on her phone. “Shit, we need to get to a TV right now!”Several people took out their phones. Nearby, Bakugo did so himself, flicking it on and pressing a set of numbers before the screen flickered again. Katsuki had absolutely no idea how people managed to use those things without going blind, but Bakugo seemed to be doing just fine as he tapped at the screen with his thumb, eventually pulling up a… Video?Katsuki noticed the bottom corner had ‘LIVE’ in big, bold red letters.“A news conference?” Bakugo frowned. “…The fuck, why is Aizawa there?”What?Now, quite a few of them were rushing for the dorm buildings, to see it on a larger screen with proper volume. Katsuki followed the herd.By the time he had gotten inside and someone had figured out how to actually turn on the television, the image on screen was of some kind of an attack. A still image, not a moving one, of police officers with guns firing at… Nomu. Four nomu, actually. In a city.“What the hell?!” Katsuki sputtered.“Ssh!” At least two people hushed him.“To repeat,” Aizawa said on screen; the image flipped to Eraserhead standing in front of a podium. “These are, in fact, creatures from a parallel universe who I can personally confirm eat people. Reports you are now receiving of a rescue operation into that other universe to rescue children kidnapped by these things for the purpose of consumption are entirely accurate. As well, we would also like to add that there has been an incident involving several dozen children from this other universe who escaped into ours, which began this entire situation. The children in question, both the ones that came to us and the ones taken, have each been tagged and numbered, similarly to what we do to livestock here, for precisely the same purpose.”They were telling everybody everything.They were telling everybody everything?!Weren’t they supposed to be a government secret or something?“Oh, shit,” Himiko sputtered; one hand covered her mouth. “The nomu… They’re already trying to invade.”More images came up on screen, some moving and some not; of different cities, different weather and places with different languages, all with a fight between Pro Heroes, officers and nomu.“This will quickly become a worldwide problem,” Eraserhead was still talking. “Assuming it isn’t already. The good news is, our technology is superior to theirs. Our skills are superior to theirs. We know how they operate and how they function biologically and methodically. Additionally, we have made contact with a single resistance cell comprised of human beings in this other universe.”“It’s been, what, not even a week?” Katsuki sputtered. “We got back four days ago.”“I don’t think these pictures came from today.” Mei stared at the screen with shock. “I think things have been going on ever since we opened that first portal. We just didn’t know about it.”“We may expect additional refugees in the future.” Eraserhead said on screen. “The grounds at U.A. have already added several buildings for use of housing, as so far the vast majority of escapees have been children for reasons that I believe can be deduced. However, this will likely not be a short-term issue. Which is why we’ve decided to share all of this information. Should anyone see anything regarding these monsters, we ask that you immediately call authorities. Even if you are in the midst of a crime or are a known villain, you will not be arrested or pursued should you call for help. Along these past few weeks, we have actively worked with several villains in regard to this self-same issue. Despite our many differences in this society, this is a problem that effects all of us. They will not ask who you are before they kill you.”In the dorm, everyone was stunned silent.And just like that, the world was changed.--------------------
EPILOGUE:
Honestly, Ojiro thought that he would be nervous about the saw. That, somehow, the sound of it would send shivers up his spine or cause paranoia about something going wrong. Instead, it kind of sounded like construction in the distance; a blade whirring but of no consequence.But it wasn’t far away; it was right behind him. Not that he could turn to look; turning would make his whole tail follow with him and that would really defeat the purpose.He wasn’t sure if he was surprised, impressed or disappointed when he felt absolutely nothing as the saw went through the cast. The nurse holding it must have just been that good at using it. Shouldn’t he be at least a little freaked out? Or feel the edge of it or something?After the saw came the crack of the plaster breaking apart. What followed was sheer, incredible relief.“Oh, that feels good.” Ojiro couldn’t help it; fresh air on his tail felt amazing after nearly six weeks wrapped up. He couldn’t help his whole tail from spasming just a bit.“I know it’s difficult, but stay still, please.” The nurse ordered. She was nice, a middle-aged woman that reminded him a little bit of his mom in a stern, caring but won’t take any gruff sort of way. “Your tail has been kept still for a long time. Try to relax.”The nurse put her hands at nearly the base of his tail – not quite scandalously close to his rear – and then –Then, Ojiro let out a moan and all but melted into the hospital bed.Nearby, both his mother and Hagakure let out giggles. Covered by the safety of the pillow, Ojiro blushed.“Is this your first time getting a massage, Ojiro-kun?” Hagakure giggled.“Boys don’t go out for those, dear.” His mother helpfully supplemented.Ojiro did not bother to respond, but he absolutely had to admit that the hands on his tail were goddamn heavenly.Nearby, the tiny hospital television added some low background noise. It was a tiny, old thing attached directly to the gurney. The news was on again, which was no surprise; out of a total of three channel options – three! What kind of TV only had three channels?! It didn’t even have streaming! – one of them played the news on loop twenty-four hours a day.Though, all things considered, this was a far cry from where he could have wound up. A month and a half ago, he was making a five-year survival plan in a desperate bid to escape a parallel hell universe and now here he was getting a tail massage from a nurse that reminded him of his mother.“Let me know if there’s any pain, dear.” The nurse said while still working on his tail.Ojiro let out a muffled noise to indicate that he heard her.Hagakure giggled again, but one hand was holding his own.On the TV on very low volume, the station was replaying a recent interview. A few of the men and women that had survived that horrible sensei training school told the world what they knew. About the nomu. About their own lives growing up. About the farms and the food that they had been raised to be.Several news stations had asked him for an interview, too. He hadn’t done any yet, though. He wasn’t sure if he could bring himself to. Not yet, anyway, even if interviews were an important part of being a Pro Hero later on.And the fact that he was even still enrolled in U.A. was incredible in itself. He didn’t even have to take the first year final exam. He had asked Principal Nezu once about it when he had visited only for the rodent-like instructor to stare at him for a few seconds, jaw hanging, and then told him not to worry about it.The television wrapped up the interview; it went on to talk about the League of Villains and their brief hacking of their own station’s transmission. How Shigaraki had suddenly appeared with an entire speech.
“I know some of you are going to suspect that the heroes and police aren’t being upfront about this whole ‘other universe’ thing. Let me tell you, and it annoys me so much to say this, but they actually are telling the truth for once. I’ve fought these monsters myself. They had one of my people on a literal dinner plate, waiting to be skewered and eaten. And if any of you idiots decide to get in anyone’s way of fighting them because you don’t think this is real or whatever, I will personally hunt you down and murder you myself.”
Ojiro felt a tickling sensation; the hairs on the edge of his tail were being… Fluffed? Rustled? It wasn’t the petting that Kaminari used to do.His mother let out a half-snorted laugh.“Everything seems to be in working order.” The nurse said with a chuckle. “And just for a final confirmation… You wanted to begin tattoo removal, correct?”“Yeah,” Ojiro finally removed his face from the pillow. “As soon as I can.”“All right.” The nurse smiled at him. “We’ll schedule those sessions. Otherwise… You’re free to go.”Hagakure let out a giggle and squeezed his hand again. Ojiro beamed at her, at his new girlfriend.It was so, so incredibly good to be back home.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

What an absolute mess that had been. Part of him thought that he may have left too early, but a larger part knew that there had been nothing more that he could have done. There had been portals from that other world – portals! Not from a quirk, not as far as he could tell, but from some form of technology that far exceeded anything that they had – and there had been flying machines, not to mention the weaponry. There hadn’t even been any quirks on display, just… Sheer, flabbergasting technological supremacy.He might have been the Grandfather, but he wasn’t immortal. Self-preservation was paramount and in the face of all of that, well, the choice had to be made. Especially now that he was without a successor.And god dammit, he should have stopped Izuku. He should have picked up that stupid, stupid boy and brought him back home. Battle going on with invaders from another universe or not, that was a serious error on his end. Now that young man was who-knows-where and was likely never to return. Not that the Nomu would let him back even if he tried.Oh, what a mess. Izuku, gone. Queen Legravalima perhaps dead and perhaps not, which would mean another mess tomorrow no matter which way that particular pendulum swung. A high number of very rich, very powerful nomu were likely injured from the battle at the Tifari, which was incredibly problematic in its own right.But what else was there to do but to slink back home and figure it out later?So there he was. The most powerful free human in all of civilization. Well, this civilization on this world. Stumbling up the street like a drunkard. Not that there was anyone to see him; the front lawns of the other homes were now empty. Some of them had food and drinks abandoned on patios and spilled along the grass.They must have all scurried inside when the fight started. The human district was on a relatively small hill, but it had a fine view of where those flying contraptions had been. Could have probably heard the screaming, too.Everyone knew better than to stick around. None of the humans here had come from farms, but they could be sent to much more horrid places for any number of reasons. Sometimes, for no reason at all. They were ‘free’ in only the most basic sense, until some highfalutin nomu felt insulted by a human who smiled the wrong way and then exiled three generations of that human’s family for it.It had been something that, as the Grandfather, it was his duty to fix. The relationship between the races; it had been an ongoing effort for generations now.The front door to his home was wide open.He expected as much. Those children at the Tifari had been with Izuku; who locks up a house they’re running away from?Part of him was annoyed at being swindled by the food, the lesser humans. That Izuku had been no better than the meat factory that he had come from. Even after everything.Though, by all accounts, wasn’t he, himself, also…?With a deep sigh, three solid steps were taken in. The door was quietly closed and locked tight. Not that anyone would dare try to come in any time tonight.There were scuff marks on the floor. Shoes that had been running too quickly, had skidded where none had ever done so before, a mad dash along marble floors.There were also blood stains. It led up the stairs. The Grandfather followed it, but he already knew the likely path that they had taken. That caretaker had agreed to lock them in the library; it was on the second floor.What happened to that caretaker, anyway? There hadn’t been a sign of him at the battle. Strange that the father figure hadn’t followed his children – or led them, for that matter.It took a few minutes. Following the trail.The body was in the hallway.Oh.Somehow, this was not what he had expected. The man was lying in a pool of his own blood by the shattered library doors. But a broken table looked like it had been used as a battering ram, so that couldn’t have caused those kinds of wounds. So how had…?Wait. Were those bullet wounds? From a gun?There were some bullet marks on the door as well.Had… Izuku led the charge? The Grandfather had given him the weapon for emergency situations. Had young Izuku shot the caretaker and led those other children out? Had he been willing to bail that easily?That hurt and it hurt deeply. For the past four years, he had been working with that boy, had coaxed him out of that broken scrap of a child into a fine young man. Izuku had barely had a mind left at all when he had been removed him from that laboratory; it had taken two months before he had even said his first words.It had been a long, hard struggle, but he had seen a strength beneath green hair and wild eyes. To survive for that long in that place; once the barriers broke, once some sort of trust had been formed, that boy had been brilliant. Izuku had been inquisitive and held a ferocious appetite for knowledge, had a trap-like mind that took in information and analyzed it so thoroughly…He had been proud of that child. He had started to care, well and truly care, about that sometimes-laughing, shy-smiling, freckled-and-scarred young man. Izuku had reminded him so much of himself; simply by existing, the child had brought up painful memories on more than one occasion of being trapped inside white walls and the sensation of needles impaling his flesh and fire in his veins, until a beautiful raven-haired Grandmother had fished him out and nursed him back to health and taught him everything that he knew.He had tried to return the favor. Had tried to do for Izuku what Nana-sensei had once done for him.And now that stupid, stupid boy was gone and the world was a mess and he needed to find a successor quick or the entire stability of the Grandparent Line – and possibly all of the free humans – would be called in to question by whatever nomu were going to be in charge in the morning. His own ward had taken part in that fight; they would ask questions about that, would place blame wherever they could as long as those in power wouldn’t get any blame for what had gone down. Politics, ugh.A gurgling noise came from the ground.The Grandfather stared.The caretaker was still alive.How? He had to have been injured quite some time ago and it looked like more than one bullet had hit him.A finger against the caretaker’s pale neck revealed a strong pulse, but that flesh was blanched far more than should be healthy. The body made noise, but nothing conscious; he was not awake.Idiot of a man. He had done so much and so little came of it. This caretaker had managed to bring proof of a second universe to them in the form of that boy with the tail, had later killed a nomu to allow what remained at his farm to escape, and then turned right around and decided to betray his newfound allies as soon as he was asked to do so. An opportunist and a liar, but good enough at both that apparently neither side realized it until the man practically flat told them what was going on.As well trained as a caretaker – a sensei, a father, a papa, depending the farm and personal preferences – could be. Shrewd, conniving and self-centered in every aspect. Doing what he needed to in order to survive.Still, if it hadn’t been for his only stipulation – the only thing he had demanded in return for working with the government had been the safety of those children – he might have gotten out of this unscathed. If he hadn’t cared about those children, he wouldn’t have gone to the effort to lock them away and would, as a direct result, not have been injured. He was an opportunist with a moral compass of sorts?How old was this caretaker? What was his name again, Shota? The Grandfather had looked in to his files as soon as everything began; youngest to ever graduate from training, one of the youngest to ever even start training and completed it in the fastest recorded time with nothing but a sub-par quirk and sheer stubbornness. Smart, strong in a natural way, and, yes, he was no child to be molded like Izuku had been, but he was… Young enough.The gurgling body was picked up in his arms. There was a human-run hospital further down the hill; as the Grandfather, they would put whatever he asked in priority.Assuming this young man survived, well…They may both make it out of this all in one piece.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Katsuki woke up in the early morning disoriented and it took too long to understand why.The light from the barely-shaded window came in thin, the first sign that it was far, far too early to be awake. On a guess, he ventured it was somewhere around four or five in the morning, just after dawn. A glance at the clock next to his brand-new bed shone bright, neon numbers that told him that he was pretty much on the mark. 4:18 AM.He was alone.And wasn’t that just the weirdest thing in the world?For the majority of his life, Katsuki had slept in a massive bedroom with a hundred identical beds in it. He had never thought it strange; it was just how things were back in the house. The entire family slept together, identical few feet of air between each bedframe, shelves lining the walls on one side with toys, books and knicknacks on one side of the room and clothing folded and stacked on the other. The largest window in the house had been in the back of their shared sleeping room. Whenever someone was adopted, the specific bed that used to belong to the kid in question wouldn’t be refilled for months, and only then when one of the toddlers graduated to a ‘big kid bed’.He had never slept alone before coming here. Now, he had his own bedroom, empty and… Quiet. He didn’t like it.There hadn’t been any complaints from the others, at least not as far as he heard, but how could they be sleeping like this? In this big, new building that they had been moved to just a couple of weeks ago with rooms for all of them, but separated by walls? The rooms were nice, everything was comfortable…… But it was too goddamn quiet.Katsuki needed some noise.He hadn’t made an attempt to hang clothes since he got here, but a smell test decided that a pair of sweatpants and a tanktop in the pile were clean enough – his sweat tended to have a very distinct, unpleasantly sweet aroma – and he quickly pulled those on. None of it was white. He wouldn’t wear white ever again if he had a say in it.Then, he was out of his room.Sadly, the halls were just as quiet. Everyone else was still asleep. Even making his way down the stairs – elevators were just terrifying, they were boxes and they were pulled on cables?! – there wasn’t much in the way of any sound at all. Bare echoes of his own feet on the cold cement and the high pitch hum of electrical lights overhead.By the time he got to the main floor – a large wall-free space that had a kitchen, a lounge and a play area for the little ones, not too different from the dorm building that they had been staying in for a while, just much larger – he suddenly desperately needed something sweet to drink.There was a full view of the lounge area from the kitchen. A solid half dozen couches were mostly empty. Mostly.Katsuki poured himself a glass of orange juice before deciding to investigate who the hell was also having trouble sleeping. He was only half surprised by what he found.Deku – Izuku – was sprawled on one couch. He took up the entire couch in question, one arm draped over his eyes and he looked like he might be asleep. Or half-asleep. Should he call out to check? Or would that just wake him up?The part that didn’t surprise him was a figure up by the window. Kyoka stood there, next to a canvas, palette and brush in her hand.It had been one of the bigger bombshells that the family had found out; some of them had different hobbies from their this-universe counterparts. The best they could think of was that it was down to what they had been introduced to back at the house compared to the over-saturation of things that were just in this universe. Jiro had access to musical instruments the likes of which they had never even heard of and people to teach her how to use them to boot; Kyoka simply… Hadn’t. She had once had a very small toy piano when she had been little – had it been a birthday gift? The memory was foggy – but had grown out of that by the time she was… Seven, Katsuki thought. Maybe younger.So there she was, on yet another early-morning painting session. It was just something she did; even back under Sensei’s watch, she had often done this, getting up before everyone was awake. Katsuki had only caught her painting a handful of times; he usually slept right through it.Kyoka saw him and gave a smile and a nod.Katsuki moved closer, half curious to what she was painting – it looked like she had angled everything to get a good view out of the window – and unwilling to possibly wake up Deku.“Hey.” Kyoka whispered once he was close enough. “Couldn’t sleep?”“Yeah.” Katsuki said with a shrug. “Got too quiet.”Kyoka let out a quiet hum and kept on smiling. Her eyes went back to the canvas. She understood.Katsuki would never call himself an artist or even a person that particularly cared about art, but he thought she was pretty good. There were trees and grass outside and trees and grass on the canvas, and the birds she was adding in looked… Like birds.“Worried about today?” Kyoka’s voice was soft in her whisper, but it carried the tick of her usual smirk.“No.” Katsuki said perhaps a little too fast and a little too forcefully. He tried again. “’Course not. I’m not. No point in getting worked up like everyone else.”“Yeah, everyone has been freaking out.” Kyoka said without looking at him. The brush in her hand added in a few little dots and suddenly the trees on the canvas looked like the sky was peeking through the leaves and Katsuki was briefly amazed. “You should have seen Denki last night. I think he went to bed on his… Sixth cup of coffee? Fifth or sixth.”“And he actually sleeps with that.” Katsuki said with a snort. “Biggest mistake was introducing everyone to that stuff.”“Hey, I drink in moderation.” Kyoka chuckled.It was quiet for a moment.“Hey,” Katsuki broke it. “Can I ask why you didn’t…?”“Why I don’t want to meet Jiro’s parents?” Kyoka finished the awkwardly started question. “I don’t think I need to. I’m not Jiro. I know who I am.”That left more questions than it did answers.They had all been given the option to meet the parents of their local-universe counterparts. The parents in question had wanted to meet them in turn or, at least, that was what Principal Nezu had told them. Something about forms and paperwork and that all parties had to agree to letting all of their parents come to U.A. to see them in an open setting and everyone who wanted in had to sign up. A big, warm open space for mingling; it was going to happen this afternoon in one of the big yards.There was a solid chance that some of them would get adopted by people who were, by all accounts, their biological parents. Technically. Sort of their parents. With all the alternate-universe complications mess. Hell, Shoto had already taken Todoroki’s father’s offer, though Katsuki suspected it was at least partially to protect the baby brother that didn’t have a say in the matter.No matter what, they still looked after each other. Katsuki could respect Shoto’s decision to look after one of their own; it wasn’t as if that Endeavor guy was going to adopt anyone else to do the job.“You’re not freaking out either, though.” Kyoka shot back. “I’d almost think you didn’t care about meeting the Bakugos.”“I don’t.” Katsuki shrugged. “They aren’t really my parents.”Shoto agreeing to adoption was one thing; everyone else was getting all ramped up and excited about something that seemed so stupid. A fantasy, if that. They wanted to get to know people that weren’t really their parents, to get to know the lives of people that were them but weren’t them; what was looking in to the personal histories of their this-universe versions going to do for them, here and now? What was getting adopted going to do for them at this point? What was going to wherever the Bakugo’s lived – some cottage like the storybooks, he assumed, small and cozy, picket fence and a yard and a dog? – and getting to know how the other Katsuki grew up going to do? It certainly wasn’t going to make anything better, that was for sure.“Then you get it.” Kyoka said with a grin. “Our real biological parents are somewhere in that other universe. Slaves like all everyone else. Not warm and comfortable in this place.”“Hnng,” Came a sound from the couch. “Oh. Hi, Kacchan.”Katsuki turned, amused by the noise he heard. Deku was sitting up and stretching. “Good morning to you, too.”Deku was quiet. He wasn’t looking at either of them, looking instead towards the armrest across from him. He scratched the back of his neck.“…Okay, what is it?” Katsuki sighed.“…I want to meet Midoriya’s mother.” The admission came sheepishly. “I… I think it’d be nice to know what…” A deep breath. “What my mother could have been like.”Katsuki frowned. A small ‘clack’ came from behind him; he turned to find that Kyoka had put down her brush, a deeply worried look on her face.“It’s fine if you do, Deku.” Katsuki said low and tried to push an upbeat tone in to his voice. As if he were talking to one of the little kids. “That’s your decision.”“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with it,” Deku finally looked up. He wasn’t crying, but his eyes glistened in that barely-holding-back sort of way. “Of knowing what she might’ve been like.”“We never said that there was,” Kyoka tried; Katsuki could practically hear the smile she was forcing on her face. “Just that we don’t want or need to know.”“I know,” Deku nodded, but still looked upset. “But maybe the others, the rest of them, maybe they need to know. It’s kind of like a void… That I want to fill, you know?”Katsuki frowned at that; he couldn’t quite relate. That ‘void’ wasn’t there.---------------------Everyone else was jittery. That became clear from the moment the first of the others were up and didn’t lessen as they crowded into the kitchen.Back at the old house a universe away, Sensei would always have breakfast out on the tables before they were even awake. Every morning, there’d be a few volunteers up to help with the cooking and setting and the rest of them were able to relax. They had a schedule on a wall that rotated; mostly everyone above the age of twelve did the work, but occasionally one of the real little kids wanted to help.That schedule was one of the few ways they managed to keep things barely organized. Sure, they now had plenty of seating for the lot of them, the little ones listened to their older brothers and sisters, but there was no Sensei. No singular, commanding force that could tell everyone to sit down and shut up. Not that Sensei ever did, but the option had been there.The usual routine typically involved at least a little bit of chaos. On average, at least three kids would attempt to escape entirely naked – usually led by Sakura, who, despite not even being seven years old yet, somehow charmed people in to joining her for mischief – while the older ones ended up cooking, setting up the cutlery and feeding everyone who couldn’t feed themselves. That was normal.This morning, it was quiet. There were no loud pangs of laughter or tumbles out of the moving box of death that people here called an elevator.“Dang.” Katsuki said, filters in place. No cursing next to the kids. “You all look like we’re heading to hell.”“It’s scary.” Ten-year-old Yamato said as Momo scooped eggs on to his plate.Murmurs of agreement went around the room.Today, some of them were going to meet ‘the parents’. Some of them could be adopted by this time tomorrow. A good number of them had no ‘relatives’ in this universe who could be found as of yet but could be adopted all the same, if only out of sheer pity.They had waited their entire lives for this. By all accounts, getting adopted was what they had spent their entire lives yearning for.Yet, to Katsuki, this was still… Off.After breakfast, the morning routine continued despite the nervousness in the air. Some of them went outside to play, but a good number gathered around the television. First, a half hour of an All Might cartoon – drawings come to life, it was still just so wild – but Katsuki couldn’t find himself distracted by the antics he typically enjoyed at least a little. Instead, he looked to his family. His real family.Everyone else was at least making a solid attempt to get pulled in by the ‘acting’ – was it acting when it was done by these moving drawings? – on the screen. Deku, though, he was all in. He was always all in.Deku loved this shit. The idea of television itself hadn’t been strange – apparently, the free humans in the nomu cities had them – but the adventures of All Might in all it’s many forms was what threw him off. There had been real live people on screen in All Might makeup, hours-long action-packed films and documentaries about someone who, a universe away, was someone Deku had actually known.He had cried, once. After he had seen a two-hour-long piece on All Might’s various deeds as a Pro Hero. Deku had cried like a baby, saying All Might was everything that he had ever wanted to be.And that had been it, really. Since then, the little nerd had been hooked on even the drawn cartoon things.But once that was over, it was on to more important things.After the cartoon, there was a half hour of a news channel. Most of the younger kids left at that point. This was generally a good thing; it had taken a while for them all to know that they didn’t have to panic about every story about a robbery or villain, especially after most of the information began to be about them.“We now have confirmation from the Bangladesh media that a nomu attack has occurred in the city of Khulna. Reports are still coming in, but footage confirms that the citizens were able to fend off the assault until the local military arrived. There’s conflicting reports on whether or not a group of women had been taken from a balcony back through the portal or if they had been rescued. We’ll bring you more as the information comes to us.”The nomu attacks from their home universe came in bursts. It could be quiet for a month and then a worldwide rash of attacks in a couple of days. For reasons no one could say, Japan had mostly been left alone. Katsuki thought that those demons were testing the security in different parts of the world.It caused anxiety all the same; a couple of small gasps went around as clips from the attack went on screen. Quirks flying every which way, but the nomu were bigger and had claws, and this time there were so many of them, and they often kidnapped people for god only knows what reason…“In lighter news,” The same journalist smiled on screen. Katsuki didn’t feel any calmer from it. “The number one Pro Hero Endeavor has finalized the adoption of two children from the other universe, both of which are biologically related to him.”On a couch, one arm around a concerned-looking Mei’s shoulder, Shoto shifted uneasily.“However, there are now reports that Endeavor is in the process of adopting two others. We here at Nippon Television wish the number one hero and these children luck and happiness.”“What?” Katsuki blinked. “Endeavor’s adopting more of us?”“This is the first I’m hearing about it.” Shoto said with a frown.“Anyone got a clue what’s up with that?” Mei glanced around.“How the hell do these news people know and we don’t?!” Katsuki glared at the television.No one said anything, but the same confusion and surprise were on multiple faces. ------------------There were no classes today.Which sucked, really; Katsuki had been absolutely enjoying this school.He had to hand it to the people in this universe – credit where credit was due – but they had at least been trying to teach them about this world. He was still a little suspicious as to the why, considering that they were not only orphans but that there were alternate versions of themselves here who were arguably better, but he had to admit that he was grateful for what they had been doing. The physical courses were his favorite; they had gotten the chance to team up with their siblings and the heroes-in-training here. Bakugo had personally taught him quite a few things about their quirk and, honestly, it was amazing to get to jump around pillars and trees and blow shit up. There was still a pretty big skill gap between himself and Bakugo, but he was determined to close it.The other classes were pretty okay, too, though. They even were giving classrooms to learn in, just for them and no one else.Back in the house, they each had their own desk, a screen in front of them, headphones on their ears, and daily lessons pre-recorded for their age and/or level. It had been the only thing in the house close to the technology in this world and, looking back, it still felt – comparatively – outdated. Katsuki had always been levels ahead of his age rank, had always been a ‘top scorer’, but things were different here.Generally, he was still pretty okay. They told him he was, at any rate. Some of the others, though, who had done even worse back home, were now playing catch-up. The worst of it all were history lessons; too many things happened in this world and it was damn near impossible to keep events straight. Why were there so many wars? Why did the emergence of quirks completely wreck civilization? Why are there so many countries?!Well… Problems for another time. Classes were cancelled for the day. Probably because all the adults were coming in over the afternoon. He might have to blow up a shrub or something later just to get that out of his system, though.Katsuki wasn’t surprised to find what replaced the long hours. He found the group huddled under a tree in one of the many courtyards around U.A. Story time had always been popular in their family, though some were better readers than others. This time, it looked like Mezo was at the helm, a book in his many arms. He always had a voice that soothed the younger kids and often read them stories to sleep. Around him, kids of all ages sat – little ones in some of the bigger ones’ laps, Momo with not one but two of the toddlers, Tsu-chan with little Sakura on her lap, Mashirao had five kids with help from his tail and it was so goddamn good to see him out here – and all were quiet and attentive.Mezo was reading aloud, voice soothing and gentle. “Gaily bedight, a gallant knight, in sunshine and in shadow, A poem? Huh. “Had journeyed long, singing a song, in search of Eldorado. But he grew old, this knight so bold, and o’er his hearth a shadow… Fell as he found no spot of ground that looked like Eldorado.”Katsuki had absolutely no idea how even the little kids were so enraptured by this poem. It wasn’t even a full story and didn’t have the usual sword fights or knights in shining armor that they usually clung to. Still, he edged closer, curious.“And as his strength failed him at length, he met a pilgrim shadow. ‘Shadow’ said he,” And Mezo flared his extra arms to look more menacing; it got a few giggles from his audience. “’Where can it be, this land of Eldorado?’ ‘Over the mountains of the moon, down the Valley of the Shadow. Ride, boldly ride’, the shade replied, ‘If you seek for Eldorado!’”When Katsuki got close enough to see the book, a sudden pain filled his chest and a flash of shock went through his body. He could feel the blood drain from his face.How in the hell…?It wasn’t possible. He remembered that book; the black cover with the gold-text font on the cover, the one Fumikage had left behind on that fateful day. It haunted his dreams, sometimes, the book that opened Pandora’s Box, that Katsuki had sworn he had dropped underneath the truck past the gate… Near Fumikage’s corpse, when the bird-headed boy had been stuffed in to that giant glass jar, already dead but eyes still open, Kyoka next to him and barely holding in her screams…Suddenly, he realized that everything had gone quiet.His brothers and sisters were looking at him.So was Mezo. “It’s not the same book, Kacchan.” The voice came gentle and soothing, as if to an injured animal.“What?” Katsuki sputtered. “What?!”Slowly, Mezo held up the book. “It’s not the same.”And, now that he got a better look… It wasn’t. It was newer. It didn’t have the slightly broken spine, the pages weren’t gold on the edges, and with the book open, he could tell that the typography inside was different.A different book.“I found it in a store the last time they took us out into the city.” Mezo put the book back on his lap. “It’s the same author that… He used to read. It has some of the same poems and stories, but it’s a different book.”Right. Of course it was. How could it have been the same book?“Yeah.” Katsuki felt jittery and his limbs tingled as his heart must have gotten back into gear. “I didn’t say anything. I’m not an idiot.”Mezo didn’t answer him – and no one else said anything, but he could see pity and concern in their eyes that they could just shove it – and a few pages in the book were turned. A new poem began.Katsuki stayed.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

It was a bright and sunny day today. The kind that, back at the house, they would have spent hours upon hours running around outside and playing games. It was just a little cloudy with a light, gentle wind and, once upon a time, Katsuki had lived for days like this. For moments where he could run to the top of the trees, leading the other kids on rousing games of tag, make-believe and whatever other adventures the forest around the house had allowed.Now, there were still kids running around, but it wasn’t quite the same. After the poetry reading and with a few hours to kill, they were certainly running around benches and statues, tiny bodies zig-zagging around trees that felt too thin and too small, but there was something… Off. Bodies tumbled and laughter rang out, but it wasn’t yet home.Most of them didn’t really have any reason to be out there. Katsuki watched, walking slowly along a path with both of his hands in his pockets, as just about everyone who was older than a toddler enacted what he thought was a zombie rendition of tag. A few kids were growling and there were fake screams mixed with the giggling. But they could have done this indoors or somewhere else.Only the ones that had been matched to someone in this universe – technically related, technically – were supposed to be there. But he had heard the gossip, had heard the little ones talk to each other that maybe, maybe, if they got out there and were in front of all these “real grown-ups”, they would be adopted, too.Like going to a pet store and picking out a puppy to take home, they were just out there wagging their proverbial – and sometimes literal – tails. Not that he had ever seen a pet store or a dog, actually, but Katsuki snorted in annoyance all the same.Along the way, watching the others play, he came across a bench. One of many that were set around U.A.’s clearings and yards and, honestly, he liked that about this place, but he frowned at who was sitting in it.“Hey.” Katsuki said as he tried not to look overly desperate for a distracting conversation.“Hey.” Shoto said back, giving a slight nod.Shoto wasn’t with Mei. This was possibly the first time in a couple of weeks that Katsuki had seen him alone. “Where’s –”“Freaking out,” Shoto formed a small ice cube in one hand and popped it into his mouth; a thing he did whenever he was nervous. The chewing was noisy. “She’s going to meet Hatsume-san’s parents soon and she’s been in hummingbird mode all day.”“Ah.” Katsuki gave a nod.They were, as it ended up, in front of the main courtyard. This was where all of the adults – the parents of their local selves – were going to come. It was probably why everyone had chosen to play out here instead of the many, many other grassy areas or by the bigger trees.Katsuki glanced over everyone that was there, mentally keeping track of who was where. Mostly, he did it just to have something to do, so he wouldn’t think nearly so much or wonder how he would get along with the Bakugos. It took a few minutes to realize that a few of his siblings were missing. A few of the younger kids, but he suspected he already knew where the ‘prank trio’ were and that their building was probably now covered in traps, and…“Where’s Koji?”“Oh, you didn’t hear about that?” Shoto looked surprised. Or, rather, as surprised as his measured expressions allowed. “Koda’s parents offered to meet him at a zoo.”Katsuki stared for a moment in shock. “…A zoo?” He sputtered. “Holy shit. That’s… That was his thing.”“Mm-hmm.” Shoto nodded.“The one thing he wanted to do when he got adopted was to go to a zoo.” Katsuki still struggled to really grasp it. “The one thing, and he’s…”“That’s why he agreed.” Shoto said with a small smile.“Damn.” Katsuki still felt amazed.They had always talked about the first thing they would do after being adopted. It had been a focus point of their lives and had kept major bouts of jealousy away whenever one of the other kids had ended up leaving the house. Every time one of them went off in the special outfit only adopted kids got to wear, there had always been a few grumbles and a return right back to what they would do when it was their turn.Well, before learning the truth. That kind of put a damper on the whole getting adopted thing.Katsuki tried to push those thoughts and the horribly tasting bitterness that came with it to the side, still overlooking the crowd. It was then that a commotion rose from some of the kids. Playtime came to an abrupt but excited halt before a sort of rumbling noise came from the distance. The gate was opening.The parents were here.Katsuki stiffened in place. Feeling awkward, he made certain that his shirt was buttoned and that it was tucked into the slacks he had picked from the clothes pile. He looked… Presentable. He hoped. Not that he thought the Bakugos would care, not from what he was told of them, but, still. Kind of make an effort. Those things were important, weren’t they?He made no move to join the other kids, though. On the bench, Shoto made no effort to get up. If anything, the two-toned boy just popped more ice into his mouth.With everyone out there moving, though, Katsuki caught glimpses. The adults coming in almost looked familiar, bearing faces that were similar to some of the people he had grown up with and it was… Weird.There was Tsu-chan with the Asuis and, oh, god, he could see such a resemblance… And Ochaco over there and the woman had the same shade of brown hair in such a similar style and that man had her eyes… Mina had found the Ashidos and there was a ridiculous amount of pink going on…But he could now see who was missing with much more clarity.“I don’t see Hanta, either.”“He bailed.” Shoto let out a sigh.“Seriously?” That came with a wave of disappointment. “I thought he’d be up for this.”“Denki nearly bailed, too.” Shoto shrugged. “But… You know, after Hanta came back from that… Rescue mission, are we calling it a rescue mission? But when you all went to get Mashirao, he… Hasn’t been the same.”Katsuki had been afraid of that. He had seen the tape-wielding brother of his look pale and off-kilter back in their home universe, had seen him deflate and the confidence he had hoped to rely on melt into pure terror. “He doesn’t want to fight.” It wasn’t a question.“Not anymore.” Shoto said with a soft breath. “Even the other one –” He stopped suddenly. “…Crap. The other one of him…”“Sero.”“Him, yes.” Shoto looked relieved that at least one of them remembered. “Even he couldn’t convince him of anything.”Katsuki couldn’t really blame him. It was a decision they each had to make and he got that some of them were just too damn scared. It was scary, what was going on and what had happened and what could still yet happen. If they didn’t want to fight and instead wanted to make some kind of quiet life for themselves here… He couldn’t say he wasn’t disappointed, but he definitely wasn’t surprised.Then, in the distance, coming from the gate, was a flash of light. Flames. Fire.“And there he is.” Shoto let out the deepest sigh yet. He finally got off the bench.Endeavor was here.Katsuki had never actually seen Endeavor in person before. Sure, he had seen him plenty of times on television, on news programs and the occasional documentary. From those images on the screen, the impression of someone stoic but strong had been portrayed, someone who kept to themselves but also took down villains with a bombastic, explosive fury that, for a while, Katsuki had absolutely adored. Endeavor had seemed humble in a way in the interviews; a powerhouse who refused to speak to his fans, but had protected them all the same and had done so with such raw strength that it had been simply amazing to watch. He might have been a fan himself if, well, Todoroki hadn’t told Shoto about his father and, in turn, Shoto hadn’t confided in the rest of the family.Now, Endeavor came off as… A jerk. A so-called adult who had taken his frustrations home to his own kids.And, now, here Endeavor was, and he was tall and broad and could probably break a building in two. No, scratch that, the hero had broken buildings in two. Katsuki had seen that on the news more than once. A few times, shattered buildings had been used as shields and it had just been amazing and – shit, Katsuki, not now, marveling at recordings of past crazy hero things can come later. Remembering the flame hero going through the air, gleaming costume shining in the sun, and using debris as weapon was well and good, but this was not the time.Though… The Number One Hero wasn’t wearing the hero outfit shown so frequently on the television. Instead, the flames around Endeavor’s face – no, this Enji Todoroki’s face, he had a non-hero name, a surname even – were smaller and he was in a suit that Katsuki guessed look good. He had never seen a suit before, but he was in one.And there was this… Aura. Katsuki couldn’t explain it, but he felt threatened somehow, on edge, and he was nowhere near the flaming mass of a figure out there. Shit, and Todoroki grew up with that all the time? How was Todoroki even sane?!“Okay,” Shoto took a deep breath. “Might as well go say hi.”Katsuki frowned and wondered just how much Shoto really wanted to be adopted by this guy. He wouldn’t say it out loud, but he was worried. He sure as hell wasn’t going to let his brother go out there alone to talk to the guy; he could do that much, even if he couldn’t help after the whole adoption thing happened.Yet before either of them could start walking, there came surprising movement.“…The hell?” That came from Shoto.In the distance, stopping directly in front of Endeavor, were two of the others. Katsuki frowned, remembering what the news program had claimed just that morning.He found himself rushing in, footsteps hard and harsh against the flat stone pavement. It wasn’t quite a run but a heavy near-jog.Really, Katsuki hadn’t intended to rush in like a mad bull, but there he was, grabbing the shoulder of the closest body in front of the Number One Hero. People around them, adults and kids alike, had gone a little bit quiet but he didn’t care who might be staring. “Kyoka?! Mezo?!”He still had his hand on Kyoka’s thin, bony shoulder. Much taller than them both, Mezo stared down at him. Kyoka looked insulted; Mezo seemed startled.“Uhm, yes, hi?” Kyoka pulled her shoulder out of his grip. “Kacchan?”“Ah,” Endeavor – Enji – said calmly. “So you’re Katsuki, I take it?”“What’s going on?” Shoto had caught up, tone suspicious.“Were you two who the news was talking about this morning?” Katsuki didn’t even look at the tall mountain that was Endeavor, and dear god was it hot over here, that man just radiated heat like a goddamn lamp. “You asked Endeavor to adopt you?!”“What?” Endeavor said, startled yet calm.“Uh,” Mezo sputtered under his mask. “No, actually, that’s kind of what we were about to ask him.”“What?” Katsuki and Shoto asked at the same time.An awkwardness began to creep up along Katsuki’s spine. Shit. Had he misread the situation? Were these two just here to ask Endeavor a question and he had jumped the gun like an idiot?“You aren’t far off, actually.” Kyoka took a breath. She turned, pulling her shoulder gently out of his grasp as she did, and looked him dead in the eyes. “I sent him some emails with U.A.’s computers. I did ask him to take us in, but not like that.”“What?” Shoto asked again.The awkwardness was mixing with confusion.“Adopt them?” Endeavor frowned. “The news was saying that this morning? For goodness sake…” He rubbed his face; somehow, his hands didn’t burn from the flames. “I agreed to take them on strictly for training. As interns.”“…The news was wrong?” Katsuki found himself squeaking just a little as the embarrassment bore a little deeper.“I mean,” Mezo shifted in place. “It would have been incredible, but no.”“Shit.” Shoto said barely above a whisper.For a moment, Katsuki stood there. He wasn’t sure how to extract himself from this situation now.“Kacchan,” Suddenly, Kyoka’s hands were on his shoulders. “It’s okay. We know what we’re doing. I know who I am and I reached out of my own volition. Mezo and I, we know what we’re doing. I asked him if he’d teach us how to be stronger, because I do not want to wait to maybe get into a hero school. I reached out. I need to know how to be better with my quirk and he said yes.”“Is this why you didn’t want to meet the…” Their parents? Their other selves’ parents? Katsuki floundered for the correct phrasing. “To meet them?”“Pretty much.” Mezo said with a nod. “Kyoka and I were talking about it. I don’t need to know what I might have been. I’m me. I need to move forward with that.”Everything was quiet. Well, not entirely quiet; the chatter of the other kids nearby and of the adults were actually louder than a few moments before. Their situation wasn’t threatening enough to warrant attention, it seemed. Still, there was a weight that bore down on Katsuki and he just felt off-kilter.Why the hell had he jumped out here ready to rip Endeavor’s head off? His brothers and sisters were capable of making their own decisions. They were the same age.He didn’t have to protect them.Though, he still wanted to. He still wanted to make sure everyone was safe.“Kyoka, Mezo,” Katsuki gulped. Finally, a glance at Endeavor, and the incredibly awe-inspiring mass of a human being just had his arms folded and the same look Sensei used to get on his face whenever one of them did something particularly stupid. “Shit, I didn’t mean –"
“There you are, you little brat!”
The next thing Katsuki knew, he was fumbling over from a sudden, powerful pain over his back.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

At nine years old, Katsuki didn’t know what to do with himself.

Laughter rang from what he would swear were miles away, mocking him and he hated it. In reality, the rest of the family were only across the yard as they usually were. By the house, just about all of the other kids were playing and running around, happy after a long day of schoolwork and the daily test. He had gone out with the rest of them, feeling pleased with yet another perfect score to his name, but the good mood quickly vanished.
No one wanted to play with him again. No one had wanted to play with him for months. They all gave him the same scowls and sneers and told him that he could join in when he ‘behaved’ and ‘was nice’. Katsuki hadn’t liked that one bit. They weren’t grown-ups, they couldn’t tell him what to do!
So there he was, in the forest.

With a small roar, the fourth shrub of the day blew apart. It erupted in the blasting fire from his quirk, from his own two, perfect hands.
Why didn’t the others like him? He was strong and he was smart! It wasn’t his fault he was so great. If anything, they should be begging him to play with them. Even fighting over it! That was how it should be, with everybody clamoring over their Kacchan, trying to win his favor!
So why didn’t they?

In under an hour, the rage dissipated. It didn’t quite go away entirely, but Katsuki was bored of the explosions now. He wandered through the trees, pouting.

But he wasn’t crying. If anyone would ever ask, he would be proud to say that he didn’t cry. It was just some drops falling from the trees, was all. He was a big boy; he didn’t cry.

Everyone was such a jerk.

Eventually, he wandered to the end of the forest. Or, rather, to the thin fence that blocked off where they couldn’t go. It was just a long line of metal, he could probably jump over it, but it was against the rules. Sensei said so.

Katsuki stopped and glared at the fence. Well, if everyone hated him, why didn’t he just run away? He could go over the fence and… Join a circus! All the kids in the books always said they’d run away and join the circus! He had never actually seen a circus, but they sounded great and had lots of animals and –

“Kai!”

Katsuki turned at the voice; it wasn’t really a yell, but it was louder than how normal people spoke. It sounded familiar, too, but he couldn’t place which of the many other kids it might have belonged to.

So, he walked towards the sound. It didn’t take long to find them, just beyond a particularly thick cluster of trees.

The two oldest kids in the house. Fuyumi – it had been her voice! – had a very worried look on her face, brows knitted, and had an arm grasped in both of her own. Kai, half turned, stared at her with a thin pressed mouth, but his eyes were his usual cold, steely gaze that tended to scare all of the little ones.

But not him. Katsuki was never scared of anybody, especially not big brother Kai.
“Kai, Sensei is going to kill you.” Fuyumi said with a gulp; she didn’t let go of Kai’s arm. “He is going to kill you.”
Katsuki felt a grin cross his face. He popped through the trees, unable to help himself. “Ooh, what did you guys do?!” He hoped they had caused some trouble. He always liked to get in on some mischief.

Both Fuyumi and Kai turned at his voice; the former did so quickly and let go of Kai’s arm. She left a sheet of ice behind.

Kai brushed it off; it melted before it hit the ground. “Nothing.” A wink. “Yet.”

Katsuki felt his very soul flare. Secret trouble! The best kind! “Can I know? I wanna know!”
“It’s nothing, Kacchan,” Fuyumi brushed at her sheer white skirt; all of their uniforms were white and she never, ever got dirt stains or grass patches on her outfits, not ever that Katsuki could remember. “We’re not doing anything.” She glared at Kai.
“I don’t know,” Kai raised a brow at her before looking back to him. “It could be interesting to loop him in. We could use some strong quirks on our side.”

“Yeah!” Katsuki beamed. “And I’m strong! The strongest!” He paused; he felt himself shrink. Months of anxiety loomed up on him. “Even if… The others don’t want me around.”

“Hmm?” Kai crouched down to look him in the eyes. He wasn’t smiling but he wasn’t frowning, either; just that blank expression from thin eyes underneath slightly ruffled dark brown hair. Kai’s usual spooky self. “Now, why is that?”

“They told me I’m mean.” Katsuki huffed. “But I’m not! I’m just stronger and they’re jealous!”

“But why do you want to be strong?” Kai tilted his head ever so slightly; he reminded Katsuki of the birds that sometimes flew in. “If all the ‘weak’ kids get to play, wouldn’t you want to be like them?”

“Kai…” Fuyumi said softly.

Kai raised a hand. Fuyumi quieted down but folded her arms.

“I wanna be strong because…” Katsuki frowned and gave it serious thought. “…Because I wanna protect everybody. Like… Like the knights and heroes in the stories! I wanna be a hero! I wanna be a knight!”

“You want to protect everyone? Be a hero?” Kai raised a brow. “But if they don’t like you enough to let you go near them, how can you protect them? What’s the point?”

It was as if lightning had struck Katsuki. He stopped, truly shaken by the questions.

What was the point of being strong if he couldn’t do anything with it? He couldn’t be a hero or a knight if no one liked him. He couldn’t protect them if they ran away from him.

“What… What do I do?” Katsuki felt ready to sniffle, but he held it back. He was a big boy. He was strong.

The strongest…

“Be nice to them.” Kai gave his head a gentle pat. “Let them know that you want to protect them from all the big bad things out there by getting into their good graces. Otherwise, they’ll keep pushing you away.”

“And,” Fuyumi was suddenly there, too, crouching down next to Kai. “You’ll get to play with everyone, and isn’t that what you want, too?”

“Yeah…” Katsuki nodded quickly.

He could be the strongest hero and protect everyone… If he was nice.

After that, he forgot to ask what trouble the two were planning. His brain was too busy swimming in itself with new ideas.

There was never another chance to ask; less than a week later, Kai was adopted. Four months after that, Fuyumi was gone, too.
---------------------------------------
“There you are, you little brat!”
Kyoka’s hands were still on his shoulders. When the harsh slap came at his backside, Katsuki fell right into her arms.“Yo, what the hell, lady?!” That was Kyoka herself. He didn’t know she even used that kind of language.It took a moment to stumble back up to his feet and pull himself out of Kyoka’s grasp, but once he did, Katsuki turned to stare at whoever –… A grown woman with blonde hair the same color as his own and eyes that looked a little bit too familiar?…Why did she look familiar?Aw, shit.Katsuki stared, unnerved. “I ain’t your son, lady. He’s still in class.”The woman staring at him had started off with a scowl. It faded into confusion. Then, it turned into alarm.“Ahem.” Oh, right; Endeavor was still standing there. “That was hardly appropriate.”Nearby, Shoto let out a noise that bordered on an incredulous snort.The blonde woman – and now that Katsuki was properly recovered from the sudden assault to his backside, he noticed a similarly disturbingly familiar-looking man behind her – let out a squeak. “You’re… Endeavor.”“Yes,” The hero in question said with all the effect of someone who really did not want to talk to this woman. “I am.”“Oh... Aw, crap.” The woman glanced back and forth from the towering flame-covered hero to Katsuki several times. Eventually, she settled on her son’s lookalike. “Shit… I thought you were my kid.” A shaky smile crossed her face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you like that…”“Is that really how you greet your son?” Katsuki was having third and fourth thoughts about going to the Bakugo’s house. “Even if I had been him, that would’ve been… Fine by you? Really?”“It’s just this thing that we have –” The woman even tried to laugh, but it came out nervously.“And you do that in public?!” Katsuki backed up a step. “You called him – me, whoever, a ‘brat’!”That was when he noticed how quiet everything had gotten.A few minutes ago, everyone nearby had been in full chatter. The little ones had been loud in their play and there was the conversations of many of the older kids meeting other adults for the first time. There had been a certain nice volume to it, a blanket of noise.Now, it was just… Stone quiet.By the look on Mrs. Bakugo’s face, she noticed it too.Slowly, Katsuki looked around; he had a feeling that he already knew what he would find.Yup. Everyone was staring. All conversation had just come to a halt and each of his brothers and sisters – even the little ones, even the goddamn toddlers – were glaring at Bakugo’s parents with suspicion and anger. A couple of the very little kids that had come into their quirks already had them out, tiny little spikes and horns ready for… What? Did the five-six-seven-year-olds want to fight this woman?! Shit, were they going to have to have a conversation about appropriate quirk usage later? At least none of the older kids had anything remotely looking like a combat ready pose, and certainly no weapons –Katsuki stopped and stared. “Kyoka? Why do you have a knife?”He could feel more than see everyone’s gaze turn to the purple-haired girl in question.Kyoka’s eyes darted back and forth for a second. She had a vicious-looking serrated blade in one hand. “…For… Protection.”“Are you going to stab somebody?” Katsuki asked very slowly, as if he were talking somebody off a ledge. “Where did you even get that?”“From Mei.” Kyoka was not moving to put the knife away.“Mei got you a knife?” Katsuki repeated, incredulous.Kyoka shifted in place. As she did, the hand around the knife handle moved ever so slightly; a finger hit a small bump on the side of it that pressed down in to the handle.Then, the blade started to move. It jolted back and forth on its own, letting out a mechanical whirring sound as it did so.Katsuki stared. “Mei made you a self-stabbing knife.” He turned away to look back over the crowd. “Mei?! What the heck?!”“You’ll want one, too! Eventually!” Mei yelled back from where she stood by the Hatsumei’s. Both of them looked entirely too excited about what was going on.The tension from everyone else, however, seemed to have broken. Bodies relaxed and some light chatter started to return.Next to him, Kyoka flushed with embarrassment and finally, finally put the knife back into a holster in a pocket.“Crap,” The Bakugo woman practically deflated. “I’m sorry about that. You’re right, I was probably too aggressive, but can we start over? I’m Mitsuki Bakugo, and this is my husband, Masaru.”The brown-haired man behind her gave a meek wave.Katsuki frowned at her but felt something inside of him cave in. “Yeah… Yeah. Starting over’s good. Guess you know I’m Katsuki.”“Yeah,” Mitsuki gave him what looked like a genuine, gentle-looking smile. He wasn’t sure if he trusted it or not. “Let’s talk somewhere a bit more private, okay?” ------------------------ Somehow, they ended up at the Bakugo’s house.It wasn’t something that any of them had to do, going to the homes of their local universe counterparts. They were under no obligation to do much of anything, really. But the Bakugos – okay, Mitsuki, her husband didn’t seem to do much of the talking – had asked if he had wanted to spend a night. He could have said no. It wouldn’t have been wrong not to.But there was something in Katsuki’s gut that told him to take a chance. That maybe it might not be so bad. Even if Bakugo had warned him about his ‘old hag’ and about his parents. Even if Bakugo’s mother had slapped him across the back by way of greeting when he thought he had been her son.Yet, there he was, in the back seat of a car for the first time in his life. Looking out the window at neon lights zipping past in a way he had never seen before. Something of a daze fell over him and he wasn’t sure if he was thinking properly or not.Then there was the house. A neighborhood. Multiple houses on the same street, what looked like a goddamn tower in the distance that Mitsuki claimed was an ‘apartment building’, everything such a far cry from anything he had ever imagined. Sure, houses and suburbs and cities had been written in the books, things had been described, but… Seeing it? Wild. It was just… Wild. He wasn’t sure if he was properly grasping it all or not.The Bakugo’s house wasn’t like the big building that he had grown up in. It was smaller and darker, but not in a bad way. The walls and floor were just a deeper shade while he had grown up surrounded by pale peach colors and off-whites and things made stark now that he looked back, and it was… Dark, here. Warmer.There were pictures on the wall and a little spot in front of the door where he had to take off his shoes and rooms more like the kind in the dorm building he lived in now, smaller in scale yet not claustrophobic.Wild.“Wow.” Katsuki said aloud, marveling as he stepped inside in socks. Floor without shoes was a little weird, but not bad.“It’s not the biggest place,” Mitsuki took in a deep breath and looked proud of herself. “But it’s ours.”“We could have done worse.” Masaru said with a small smile.“Well, yeah. True.” Mitsuki practically beamed. She then turned to look at Katsuki. “Feel free to look around. Katsu – our son’s room is down the hall and to the left. You can stay there tonight or on the couch if it’s too… Weird.”“Thanks.” Katsuki nodded slowly, still amazed by the house itself.The sheer amount of stuff forced him to linger. There were shelves with things that didn’t seem to serve any purpose but looked pretty enough, books piled thick inside of bookcases, rugs and pillows and… Knick knacks. That’s what all of this was. Growing up, none of them had much more than the toys that they shared, and even individual birthday gifts went with those that… Went away.This family had things. Like in the stories he had read growing up. Houses and homes with an entire family’s worth of belongings, everything kept and kept close.Katsuki wandered down the hall. He ended up, quite on purpose, in the bedroom of this universe’s Katsuki. He ran a hand along a wall as he went, feeling the wallpaper – wallpaper! Real wallpaper! – as he went.Everything in this home smelled faintly like wood. Not the rotting kind, but old and vaguely like a forest. Bakugo’s room was mostly empty – maybe he had brought what he wanted to U.A.? – but there was a large-looking bed, a closet that made up one wall, a bedside cabinet with a lamp, a mirror and a window. Parts that might have once made up a desk were neatly dismantled in a corner. It didn’t look broken, simply taken apart.Empty. A curious look in the closets revealed punching bags, weights and exercise equipment. There was a picture frame on one of the closet shelves.A picture. A moment taken the other Katsuki’s life.It felt wrong, somehow, even as Katsuki took hold of it for a look. It was, as expected, a photo of Bakugo – and photos in of itself were just weird, they didn’t have those back at the house – but this image of Katsuki’s counterpart was younger, wearing a black-and-white uniform in what looked like a yard or park with lots of trees, a smug grin on his face and… Deku in the background.Not Deku. Not Izuku. Midoriya. From this universe.And it was wrong; Izuku had been shipped out when he was six, Katsuki hadn’t been with Izuku when he was this age. This was someone else’s life he was looking at.This was all wrong.Why had he thought this wouldn’t be a terrible idea? Kyoka had the right of it. She wasn’t chasing the Jiro’s around or being passive about things, Kyoka had taken a knife and become a demon-killer, she was reaching out to the heroes of this world for training. She wasn’t just… Waiting for people to do things for her.What was he doing here?“Katsuki,” Mitsuki called from somewhere else in this amazing house. “Dinner will be ready in ten minutes. You’re welcome to join us.”dy in ten minutes. You’re welcome to join us.”“…Okay.” Katsuki still stared at the photo. “Thanks.”He didn’t know what he wanted to do.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Dinner was weird.The table felt too large for just three people yet the plates felt too small. Mitsuki gave a small smile to him as he watched her set the food-full dishes in front of three waiting seats; two chairs looking across at one.Katsuki felt as if he should be helping set things up. That’s how it had been back at the house; the older he has gotten, the more responsibility he had, and helping with dinner had been expected pretty frequently. It hadn’t changed at the school they were still temporarily living at, even if there had been no Sensei to give chore duty. Except for the time during that rescue mission – but that hadn’t really counted as even having meal times, they ate as they went even in the resistance place – he had spent his entire life in a routine. Dozens of plates, long tablecloth-coated tables, benches for everyone with only individual chairs for the very youngest who needed the boost.This was… Different.Slowly, Katsuki took a seat. He stared at the food the Bakugos must have cooked just for him. Not part of a mass serving where everyone ate the same thing. Curry.It was just… Curry. Nothing unusual. It had meat in it. He’s had food like this countless times growing up.Then why did it feel so weird? Why was there a pit in his gut like things were wrong? There was an edge of fear around and he didn’t know why. It wasn’t as if Bakugo’s parents were going to attack him, so why was he so nervous?The hairs on the back of his neck were standing up. He expected a sort of awkward silence to fall. Maybe because he didn’t know what to say.“So,” Mitsuki started almost immediately, before he even had a chance to take the first bite. “What do you do for fun, kiddo?”“What?” Katsuki stared blankly across the table.“Fun,” Mitsuki said again, a smile on her face – but a look in her eyes that didn’t match. “I… Don’t know what kind of life you had, the news doesn’t talk about it much, but… What do you do for fun?”Katsuki had to seriously think about the question. For a moment, he wasn’t sure how to answer it. Fun? Oh. Right. He used to have fun. “We, uh, had a big field to play in. And a forest. A shit ton of tag. Sometimes we hid stuff for the little kids to have a treasure hunt. Did some reading when it rained. Some of the other kids did art, though…”He trailed off to take a few bites. The food was good; it was different from how Sensei used to cook and had more flavor than the food at U.A.’s cafeteria. It was new. Different.“Doesn’t sound half bad,” Masaru’s smile was at least visibly nervous; he was easier to read. “Katsuki – our Katsuki, our son – he told us that you’re all pretty smart kids.”Katsuki couldn’t help but give a small roll of his eyes. “The only thing I don’t know shit about here is history, but we had school. We had tests we took every day.” He ate some curry to hide the frown. “Though I don’t know why they bothered if they just intended to kill us.”Ah, there it was. There was that awkward silence. He shouldn’t have said that.But the words were out now and his brain was suddenly churning; it was as if a half-healed wound had burst. Words came before Katsuki could bother thinking about the consequences. “We had theories ‘bout what was going on. Before we knew the whole… Demon, nomu, whatever the fuck, we figured something was going on, but I figured we were being educated to grow up and do shit, like… Join an army or something but…” A shrug; he looked down at the plate. “I wasn’t smart enough to figure it out, I guess.”“Hey,” Mitsuki’s stern voice got his attention. “Hey, you were in an insane situation. Who the hell would even suspect –” Her face was turning red; Katsuki reeled in surprise at the sudden change. “There were literal monsters eating people, that’s not supposed to be a thing!”“Mitsuki…” Masaru called calmly.“No,” Mitsuki turned on her husband; she was snarling. “No, this kid’s blaming himself for not being able to figure out an impossible thing and it pisses me off! You’ve seen the news!”“Mitsuki…” Masaru said again, this time placing a hand on his wife’s arm.It did the job; the red color on her face started to fade but she was sputtering and stabbing her curry with a spoon.Katsuki stared at the woman across the table; she had gone from ‘perfectly calm’ to ‘extremely angry’ in the span of two seconds. It was honestly awe-inspiring. Bakugo had warned him about this, hadn’t he? That she was quick to turn? He wondered if his own mother was as fiery as this woman.“Uh,” Katsuki looked between the two, back and forth, for a few seconds. With the little kids, apologizing usually calmed them down. Did it work on adults? “Shouldn’t’ve said anything. Sorry. Shit’s been bothering me.”“Yeah, shit’s been bothering you!” Mitsuki said loudly. Then, she stopped, stock still, and stared right at him.Katsuki shifted in place quietly, nervous at the stare-down.“You’re not like our son,” Mitsuki said curiously. “He wouldn’t have said that. He doesn’t really do ‘sorry’.”“He wasn’t raised like our son,” Masaru said as if he was readying to calm down a feral beast; slow and steady. “The news said they were on farms with dozens of other children.”Katsuki frowned at both the accuracy and the word ‘farm’.“Katsuki,” Mitsuki still seemed calm. “What do you want to do with your future?”Katsuki almost choked on his food. “What?”“Mitsu, this is a bit unfair to ask the boy.” Masaru said with a small frown.“Huh?” Mitsuki looked startled. “…Shit. Guess it is. Kid’s been through enough –”“I want to go back.” The words were out before Katsuki could stop himself. “I want to get back at them. And I want to find my real parents if they’re still alive.”He really shouldn’t have said that.He expected these two people – Bakugo’s parents, who were practically offering to adopt him, that’s why he was even here and even eating dinner with them right now – to be angry. To be insulted. Maybe they’d even call the school to pick him back up, to send him back to be with the others and, honestly, he wouldn’t mind it. It wasn’t as if he was ever supposed to be adopted, only end up in some demon’s stomach.“That sounds like a wonderful idea.” Mitsuki said.“What?” Katsuki looked up in shock. She wasn’t angry?Mitsuki was smiling; a broad, delighted grin that looked… Real. “You’ve got a goal, you’ve got a hell of a motivation, and if you want to find your parents in that crapshoot of another universe, then you should go for it.”The silence, this time, was purely from surprise.“What?” Katsuki asked again.“Do you know how you’re going to get it done?” Mitsuki was now eating her curry with glee. “It might help to get some hero training first, since I’m guessing you didn’t have combat training growing up like our kid.”“Uh,” Katsuki blinked rapidly. “I, uh… I applied to a few different schools, since U.A. can’t take us in, but I don’t think I’ll know for a few weeks.”“And you’ll need a place to stay, right?” Mitsuki was still beaming.Masaru was silently staring at his wife as if she had grown a second head.“I… Guess so?” Katsuki was still baffled. “The people at U.A. built buildings for us and we’re all staying there…”“But, still,” Mitsuki beamed; she was more than half done with her dish while Katsuki had barely taken a few bites. “If you want a place to stay, you can stay with us.”Katsuki sputtered. “Wait, even after I said…?”“We aren’t your parents,” Mitsuki said with a smile. “We didn’t raise you. That’s not an insult, that’s just a fact. I didn’t give birth to you. Someone out there did and then you were taken away from them and, hell, we have stories here about people trying to find their biological parents after being given away for adoption, this doesn’t surprise me one bit.”Katsuki sat there, stunned.“But having a place to call home,” Mitsuki mused aloud. “That could be useful, yeah? You don’t have to call us mom and dad or any of that shit, we can turn our office in to a bedroom that isn’t our son’s… We’re all on the same page, now. This is great!”“This went from zero to sixty very fast.” Masaru said quietly.“Uh,” Katsuki wasn’t sure how to feel, but now he was staring at this woman. Bakugo’s mother, who he had been warned about for her harsh personality and fiery temper, but… Maybe that was what he needed. Maybe having someone with that kind of vigor who knew this world, who knew what kind of training he would need, who supported him and wouldn’t let him give up or withdraw or doubt… “I’ll think about it.”“’Course,” Mitsuki nodded, still looking entirely chuffed. “You need time. Do you want to head back to U.A. after dinner or would you like to spend the night?”Katsuki actually had to consider the question. Somehow, both were now tempting. “I think… I should head back tonight.” He paused. “Sleeping in Bakugo’s room is too weird.”“Figured,” Mitsuki said with a soft sigh. “My fault, that one. I knew I should have set up the other room.”Masaru set a hand on his wife’s arm, giving it a gentle pat. He looked as stunned as Katsuki did but offered them both a small smile.Then, Katsuki noticed that the twist in his gut – the cause of his earlier fear – had gone. -------------------------- The ride back to U.A. was uneventful, if cars could be considered such. Katsuki still had to force himself to pretend that riding inside a vehicle going god knows how fast wasn’t just the absolute most insane thing possible. He had to remind himself that people here rode and drove them regularly.It was still amazing, though. He hoped he would be able to drive one of these himself at some point. It was like being in a fucking space ship from the books he read growing up.It was, however, quiet. The Bakugo’s had picked him up from the school but only Mitsuki was bringing him back now and she had twisted a dial to turn music on, and that had been so much of a distraction that Katsuki couldn’t even think about conversation.Music! In this moving vehicle! And it sounded crisp and clear and not from a tiny music box?! What the hell?!He still felt stunned when he was finally released from the car. Mitsuki gave him a happy wave before driving off. It felt as if his emotions were doing twists inside of his own head, a mix of confusion, amazement and a trepidation.Katsuki expected the lobby to be empty when he walked in. It was far too late for any of the little kids to be awake and all of the older ones had gone off to visit various adults. It should have been empty.It wasn’t.Katsuki paused as soon as he walked in to stare at Shoto sitting quietly on one of the couches, seeming half asleep, with his two-toned head resting flat against the top of the back of a seat. His eyes were only half closed.“Hey,” Katsuki said quietly.Shoto blinked a few times, bringing himself out of his daze. “Oh. Hey.”“Couldn’t stay there, huh?” Katsuki half stumbled for the couches himself. He all but collapsed a few spaces down.Shoto was quiet for a moment. “Do you remember Fuyumi?”Katsuki blinked once. “Uh… Yeah, she…” Left? Was sent away? Was murdered by their own Sensei and fed to monsters? “…Went when we were, what, ten?”“She was my biological sister.” Shoto said very slowly. “Apparently.”Katsuki winced. “Aw, shit, and the local one here was…”“Yeah,” Shoto rubbed at his eyes with a single hand. “It was… Too weird. I told them about it and that I needed time to process it and…” A pause. “I don’t think I was lying about needing space. But they brought me back regardless.”“Shit,” Katsuki slunk on his seat. The sofa was comfortable, at least. “Shit like that’s going to keep happening, though.”“Yeah,” Shoto nodded slowly. “Kyoka and Mezo are staying with them for the night. Less weird for them, I suppose.”Katsuki let out a noise of agreement. He didn’t know what he would have done in Shoto’s situation. If he found out someone who had died was biologically related to him? Not just in spirit?Then, it was quiet for a few minutes. He didn’t particularly mind and doubted Shoto did either; his brain was buzzing. Shoto’s was, too, probably.“So… Why are you back?” The question came eventually. Quietly.“Uh,” Katsuki blinked as he tried to get his thoughts in order. “I told them I wanted to find my real parents.”This time, Shoto was the one that winced. “Didn’t go well?”“No, actually, went… Real well.” Grasping how the conversation had gone was still just out of his reach. “Mitsuki… Bakugo’s mom… Really liked the idea. Offered to let me in their home and… I guess in their family anyway?”Shoto blinked; his expression mirrored his own confusion. “Huh.”“I might go for it,” Katsuki took in a deep breath. “Might be nice.”It went quiet again. Stayed quiet for a good long while. No attempt was made to check the time.After some time, the sound of the front door went off, the not-quite-silent hiss of mechanical doors sliding apart.He looked over the couch to see Himiko saunter in, looking entirely too pleased. She had a bounce in her step as she strode in, gave them both an entirely-too-happy wave, and headed for the kitchen.Katsuki blinked. He looked to Shoto. The other boy shrugged but seemed amused.Himiko had been given the same option as the rest of them, to spend the night in the home of their local-version parents. Though, both he and Shoto were here themselves, so he probably shouldn’t be too concerned at her early arrival. Or suspicious.She was one of theirs. Technically. Another ‘orphan’, but… She hadn’t grown up with them. But the stories that she told about the resistance had earned their respect; she had escaped from her own house, had escaped being eaten. She was one of theirs.The sound of the refrigerator opening came with a fresh hissing noise, the sound of something glass or metal clinking together, and a too-loud gasp from Himiko. “Chocolate inside milk?!”Shoto let out a half gasp, half bark of laughter.“Holy shit!” Himiko said.The refrigerator closed. She made her way to the couches with a small carton of chocolate milk with a too-big straw sticking out of it in one hand. She looked like the happiest girl in the world.Katsuki stared, amused; he could remember his own surprise at the concept when he had first arrived in this universe. “You’re back early.”“Yeah,” Himiko said as she took in a long sip. “I had – holy shit this is amazing.”Shoto let out a fresh gasp of laughter.“Chocolate’s not a thing we get a lot of back home,” Himiko said a bit sheepishly. “This is new.”“Yeah, we only got little bars on our birthdays.” Shoto gave a small nod. “Never had them in milk before we got here, either.”“Yeah, I remember the birthday chocolates.” Himiko took another sip. “Anyway, had an argument. Decided to come back.”“An argument?” Katsuki sat up in surprise. “They yelled at you?”“Oh, yeah, but I started it.” Himiko grinned. “I knew they were assholes going in, though. Toga told me about ‘em. I was mostly there to get revenge on her behalf.”“Revenge?” Shoto said with a frown.“Relax, not the violent kind.” Himiko smiled happily as she sipped. “You know they didn’t have a single picture of her? And I show up, and her mom goes, ‘Finally, I can have a real daughter’, and I kind of lost my shit.”“They said what?” Katsuki’s brows raised.“They are not nice people.” Himiko was still grinning. “Felt nice to tell ‘em how much they suck. Toga told me that they hated her quirk so she ran away, then they see me and think they got a second chance? Nope. Not happening. They gotta live with being shitty people.”Katsuki wasn’t certain if he was shocked, mortified or impressed. Maybe a bit of everything.“Kinda told Todoroki’s dad the same thing,” Shoto admitted with a bit more pep in his voice than before. “That I’m not some kind of absolution for him. That he’s still got to live with what he’s done.”“Yeah, you get it!” Himiko beamed. Another sip.“Didn’t yell at him, though.” Shoto smiled softly.“I’m not sure you’re physically capable of yelling at people,” Himiko’s smile turned soft. “You actually care about people. You’re… Nice.”“…I am not.” Shoto tried to glare at her, but he was smiling now. “And you care about people, too.”Himiko let out a breath. “It’s not that I don’t, it’s just… It’s… Hard to get attached with, uh, everything.” A sip.Shoto nodded in understanding.Yeah. Himiko was one of theirs.“Besides, I…” Himiko stopped; she seemed unsure. A small war played out along her face. “I know where my real parents are.”Katsuki almost jumped in his seat; he saw Shoto do the same. “You… How?”“Shit, I shouldn’t have said that.” Himiko waved the hand not holding the carton. “Forget it, forget I said anything!”“Himiko,” Katsuki frowned. “You know where your parents are?!”She took a deep breath. Steeling herself, maybe. Then, the words came quick and in a jumble. “The nomu keep records,” Himiko looked to the floor. “We manage to get them, once in a while. They keep really strict logs of what kid came from where to avoid accidentally inbreeding people, we think. We found my number in some files we got.”Katsuki shared a look with Shoto; a pit in his stomach opened. “Do –”“Yeah,” Himiko looked up, indecision clear as day on her face. “Remember when we asked for your numbers when you got to our base? We dug up what we could. We tried to, anyway.”Katsuki frowned. “Why didn’t –”“The information’s outdated.” Himiko took a deep breath. “By more then a decade. And we couldn’t find a lot of it. We couldn’t find shit on a couple of the others at all. And what we got… We didn’t know if it was still where your parents were, so we didn’t want to get your hopes up.”Silence fell over them for a few seconds.“I know my parents are dead.” Himiko took a sip from the carton, now somber. “They were both Senseis. My dad was marked as a suicide. No idea what killed my mom, only that she died while at her assigned farm.” She looked to Shoto.The two-toned boy looked visibly uncomfortable, mouth a thin line.“Your parents are in a breeding mill. Both of your parents are in one of them, but in one of the ‘high quality’ ones, so they’re treated better than most.” Himiko shifted in place herself. “They’re a ‘matched pair’. They’re for specifically making really powerful kids with quirks that can be weaponized. Top tier, prized meat. They’re probably still in the exact same place, but they move entire mills once in a while to avoid being found.”Shoto’s eyes widened, but he looked relieved.Then, she looked at Katsuki dead in the eyes.The pit in his stomach grew larger.Himiko took a deep breath. “Your parents are in breeding mills, too. But in different places. They’re still higher-tier breeding stock, but not… Well, shit, how do I explain… Not top-tier?” A helpless shrug. “Eleven years ago, they were in different facilities, but you probably have a shit ton of half siblings in different farms.”Katsuki took in the information with a gulp. “But you know where they were back then?”“Yeah,” Himiko nodded. “No idea if they’re still there. But… When we go back, we know where to start looking.”They have a lead. A place to start to find more information.
They had a lead.