A/N: I revised the last chapter a bit, made some things clearer. Deleted the scene with Yagi because it didn't quite fit within the overall scope of things, though it still happens, just off-screen.

That all aside, let me know what you guys think. :) Remember, any criticism is also appreciated and will be taken well, even if I may have my own opinion on things. Want to get better as a writer and things are approaching a critical mass.

Guest responses:

Knee:
I get that; I was the same way. My idea is now "to heck with it, I'll type what I feel" because it feels much more refreshing and better than to keep stuff closed in/limited out of fear/self-consciousness. In team/work situations, going too long with comments can actually be an issue, since it gets information across less concisely, but in almost all other cirucumstances I think most people appreciate seeing some thought and care put into words. In this case, I dunno, I'm happy that you would type something that long to explain something to me. It's good, and appreciated.

I'm really glad you liked this past chapter though. That's exactly how I see Toga too; even if she acts that way, she's still young, and doesn't have very much experience. She's strong in her own way (and somehow mysteriously learned zetsu in-versa in MHA), and has probably met many scary people out on the streets, but even most of the scary one's don't have that honed level of bloodlust.

And, haha, I love Twice so much. Best character. Glad you liked his intro, too.

And no worries, now I took my time! (Checks last update date, was 5 days ago.) Or not? Heh... Anyhow, this fic is like my break from work so it helps with a lot of things rather than being stressful. I'm using the "procrastinate on something to get something else done" master strategy here. :)

Guest again: Yeah, that's an interesting idea, actually. I'm a huge fan of clever applications of base abilities/quirks. I'll see if I can work that in somehow at some point; thanks for the suggest. Sends some gears sparking through my mind.

Chapter Seventeen

The first step, Killua thought, is to gather more information.

The main roadblock he was running into was that he had no reliable sources of information. He had the detective, yes, but the detective was more interested in getting information from him, than imparting information to him. All the heroes at the school didn't seem to know much more than him. And in the underworld, none of the druggies or Giran had any obviously useful intel.

He needed his own information network. He needed to find out the location of Hakira Kyoshi, her abilities and origin, locations of underground medical networks, and send out feelers for whoever was suppressing interdimensional quirks. Because, despite Midoriya's skepticism at the theory, he was sure that was the case.

If their language was the same - nearly exactly the same - it was obvious to him that someone or someones must know about both worlds. Moreover, they must be powerful and had recent considerable influence in both worlds.

The reasons for this were simple:

One. It was the only way that this world's Japanese was in sync with Killua's world's universal language. None of Midoriya's other theories made any sense.

Two. Interdimensionality was not common knowledge, despite the multitude and variety of quirks here. Assuming that similar quirks existed before, the only way the news didn't blow up in the media, like it had when Killua arrived, someone must have actively suppressed anyone with similar quirks.

This gave Killua two clues. One, that this mysterious "suppressor" was likely in Japan. No other language here existed in his own world. And two, that Kyoshi had somehow managed to escape the notice of this suppressor, or at least was on an opposing side. He doubted anyone on the same side as such a powerful group would have done such a sloppy job of letting him escape.

Somehow, he would need to gather more info to solve these clues. Or, if pursuing Kyoshi failed, then he would have to instead locate the suppressor himself and learn how the gap between the worlds had been originally bridged.

He was deep in thought as he approached the Bakugo's door. He lingered on the apartment landing, thinking it over once more.

… It was a lot of speculation, but he found it hard to believe that he was the only victim of interdimensionality. Surely, this sort of incident had happened before. He found it equally hard to believe that, if this had happened before, that there wouldn't be a powerful group involved to take advantage of such a mystery.

Of course, this was all down to odds, a strawman argument that balanced on the assumptions that "an interdimensional quirk has appeared before" and that "the only way Japanese exists is because the worlds are in communication". But Killua doubted that his odds were so bad that a one-in-a-billion odds would have happened to him of all people. No, it was more likely to be a recurring event, a one-in-a-thousand chance that manifested into his own bad luck. It was safer to proceed believing this in any case, as the existence of an active "suppressor" required more caution, in any case.

He nodded, firming the idea to himself. He had been standing in front of the door for several minutes now. That theory, at least, was decided. He would now just need to establish a competent and reliable source, send feelers out, proceed with caution. His best bet, right now, seemed to be the other hero students.

Finally, he reached out to the apartment door, turning the knob. He frowned when it halted halfway. It was locked.

So he knocked instead, rapping his hand against the door. If he was going to be here for a while, he supposed he needed to ask for a key sometime.

Only moments later, the door swung open. In it, stood Bakugo's mom. She stared down at him with a look of relief, before she smiled down at him.

"Ah, you're okay, Killua." She stepped aside, swinging the door entrance wider so she wasn't blocking the way. "Come inside. We were all worried about you."

Killua stepped inside, then looked side to side. There seemed to be a distinct lack of an explosive presence.

"Where's Bakugo?" he asked.

"He went out looking for you," she said. She looked tired. "He didn't run into you?"

Killua shook his head. "No."

"We need to get you a phone," she said, shaking her head. "We've been negligent about this. If you're really staying here for a while, we better take better care of you."

"I can take him tomorrow," the dad piped up from the couch.

"Thanks, honey," Bakugo's mom said, smiling at him. She looked back at Killua. "I'll call Bakugo back now, tell him that you've been found. Why don't you get some rest, and we'll have a proper talk tomorrow, alright?"

She was really much less explosive when her brat wasn't there.

"Sure," Killua said, yawning. Bed sounded nice right about now. He started trundling to the hallway. Bakugo had moved him to his room after the reveal of his past as an assassin, to "keep an eye on him". The kid was ridiculous, but the room did feel much cozier than the living room floor, so he appreciated the move.

"Good night, Killua," the dad called suddenly.

Killua stopped for a second. His back turned to both of the parents, he found himself smiling. A bittersweet feeling pinged at his chest at being included in the domestic scene.

"Good night," he said, after a pause, then continued on his way to bed.

Killua noticed when Bakugo returned. The boy hadn't woken him up, but had instead tiptoed over him, falling into his own bed immediately, looking the worse for wear. He wondered where he had gone, but Killua decided to keep his eyes close, and save the questions for the morning.

He fell into a dream-like fog soon enough. A whirlwind of pictures attacked him. Many were from that day, of Dabi's eerie, watchful smile, of Himiko Toga's sudden attack, of Giran's cold shutdown. Some were of the past, of him and Gon laughing together. Of his brother Illumi, standing before him at the tournament, commanding him to come home. It blurred together, good and bad, becoming a twisted mess inside of him. Then it went, disappeared, into a cool, inky blackness.

A nothingness. Killua hovered in his own dreams, alone. The sensation of eternity yawned over him. He was there alone in blackness for a very long time.

He woke up in a cool sweat.

He got to his feet, quiet so that the bedroll barely rustled as he moved around. Bakugo was snoring from the bed over. He lightly padded over to the door, swung it open a crack so that light would barely stream in, then moved over to the kitchen. There, he pulled over a cup from the high cabinet, poured in some water, then settled in on the table.

There was a silence that settled over the house, this time of night. He could hear crickets in the background, giving a steady, piercing hum. The occasional honk of a car and the whoosh of air that accompanied them. The occasional creaks of the bed as someone would roll over in their sleep. A steady drum and beat from a couple apartments over, as someone's party rolled over too late. It was a strange world, the sounds all subtly different from his own, but it was still calming in its own way.

He sipped his water. Cool, refreshing. This world's plumbing was amazing.

He sighed, then rested his chin on the palm of his hand. There were many hours to go still, until morning. He was usually up before the rest of the family, but now he was abnormally so.

Closing his eyes, he locked on to the sensation of his aura, meditating in the way that Wing had taught. Experimentally, he then raised his awareness of his aura, pushing it outwards, extending his range of natural defense. This was somewhere between Ten and Ren, he knew, extending the aura like this. He had naturally done it in many combat situations before, but he couldn't hold it for very long. Maybe this would give him an edge.

Killua was a Transmuter, so he would have to use his nen inventively. Unlike an Emitter, he couldn't easily send out his aura to cause ranged attacks. Unlike an Enhancer, he couldn't just augment his body and rely on his physical speed alone - even though that was easy enough, it would be easily outmatched by anyone with a greater affinity. Besides, in this world, it seemed that the long range fighters were the most dangerous to him. He needed a counter for them.

Hisoka is a Transmuter too, he remembered. The man was able to use his sticky gum to great effect, embodying it both with the properties of rubber and gum. Part of his effectiveness was the ability to disguise his nen with In, so that the opponent barely knew what hit him. Killua wouldn't need In in this world, when other people couldn't see nen, but would he be able to do something similar?

Immediately, he thought of the battle he had in Heaven's Arena, when Riehlvelt had attacked him with electric whips. Riehlvelt had used mechanics to power the electricity, but could Killua accomplish something similar with his nen? And couple it with a long-range weapon? Electricity was the perfect stun weapon, since Killua was now trying hard to not kill everyone who fought him. In a pinch, it could easily be lethal too.

His eyes narrowed. Kaminari, the electricity guy in Class 1A, had problems with directing his electricity in that race exercise. All Might had mentioned him getting a "support item" to help with that. Maybe Killua could do the same.

This was, however, assuming that Killua could convert his aura into electricity at all.

He turned his attention back to his aura again; he had lapsed back into normal Ten. No matter. He closed his eyes, bringing his hands together in front of him, breathing deep.

Electricity. He knew the feeling of it. That static shock, that deep jolting thrum that pounded like the beat of a heavy drum, sending his heart jolting tip-tip with every fluctuation of the current. How it tingled as it ran at low power, how it burned and fried his senses at high power. Electricity. Magnetism. Could he bring that feeling to his own aura?

He tried, carefully linking back to his ten, stimulating it to that zap feeling. He frowned when at first it didn't succeed, concentration disrupted. Well, it had been optimistic, anyway.

He brought himself to stillness, and tried again, focusing on that fuzz, a light voltage, then bringing it back to his aura. When it failed again, he tried and tried again, to his frustration.

He spent the rest of the morning this way, having no luck, other than the slightest tingle - or was it just his imagination? - and he became easily frustrated.

It was no good. Without an instructor, he barely knew what was possible. Wing had only taught them the basics. The only kind of special ability Killua had that other Nen user's didn't, was being able to sweeten some water using Ren.

A thought occurred to him, and he walked to the pantry, bare feet padding against the floor. He grabbed his container of sludge-cubes, and set it on the table.

Now, Ren - he put his hands around the container, and focused on his aura.

A moment later, he pulled off the lid, and plopped a cube into his mouth.

It was sweet.

Not bad, Killua thought, smiling. He didn't have a clue how it worked, but this way, he'd be able to make his own sweets from Yaoyorozu's food. She'd never have to know.

The experiment lightened his mood, and he went back to training. He didn't make very much progress, but soon after, however, the Bakugo's had woken up and it was time again to go to school.

Most of the day passed normally, Killua yawning through the morning classes. The students chatted with him. No one seemed to realize his presence in the mall attack yesterday, even though there were many comments about it. Only Bakugo knew, and had periodically scowled and scolded him throughout the day about it, much to the other students' consternation and confusion.

At lunch, Bakugo deigned to sit with him, waving off Kirishima for once, who then went to sit with Kaminari and the other guys. Bakugo had at first, immediately and explosively, scolded Killua again for being caught in the middle of a villain attack (was that his fault?) then, worse, he said, immediately going off on his own afterwards without tellin' anyone. Soon enough, however, Killua had managed to distract him from that topic, finally, and coaxed Bakugo into strategizing with him, returning to the ever-present topic of Hakira Kyoshi and Killua's ostensibly insane desire to go after her.

"Alright," Bakug said, looking at him with a scowl, lifting a fork in the air at Killua, "So what's stopping her from attacking you again, before you're ready?"

Killua thought for a moment. Bakugo stuffed the food-fork into his mouth, before stabbing down at the steak he had on his tray.

In many ways, it would be easier if Kyoshi came to him again. He wasn't guaranteed a victory, but at least he could gain more info about her location and abilities. If Bakugo was with him, maybe they could even hold her off.

Come to think of it, why hadn't she attacked again? Surely, if she had been able to find him so easily last time, couldn't she have just as easily found out his new location?

"I just wanted to make it personal…" Would that kind of person give up after one failure?

A lightbulb flashed in Killua's mind. That's it, he thought.

"She doesn't know about my mask," Killua told Bakugo in realization. "She thinks I'm going to die anyway. She just attacked me that first time to kill me herself." Another flash of insight. "That means she must be from this world, since she hasn't gotten sick here." Unless she immediately returned to his world after dropping him here?

"Of course she's from our world, dumbass," Bakugo said immediately, chewing, one side of his cheek bulging out as he shifted all his food into it so he could speak. "How else would she have that teleportation quirk?"

Killua stared at him for a long moment.

"Right…"

To someone who didn't know about specialists or nen, of course it must have been obvious.

But she had also obviously mastered nen as well. This case wasn't as clear-cut as Bakugo thought.

"Speaking of," Bakugo said, scowling, crossing his arms. He had swallowed all his food by now. "If your world doesn't have any quirks, then how come you're so freaking fast?"

Killua winced. Had Midoriya told him? Or Uraraka? He supposed it didn't matter; he hadn't been careful about keeping his speed or his world secret here, anyway.

"It's a… secret, in my world," Killua said awkwardly. At least, nen was.

Bakugo rolled his eyes. "Right. Who the fuck cares? You're in our world now, anyway."

Killua sighed, then raised a finger. "Only if you promise to tell no one."

"Right. Whatever."

Killua looked at him seriously.

The boy averted his gaze, huffing. "Fine. I swear, s'long as I don't get into trouble for it. Good enough?"

"Good enough," Killua said evenly, frowning. It would be helpful, to have a combat partner know his abilities, since Bakugo was clearly serious about going after him. He thought of how to frame the ability in a way Bakugo would understand. "My ability is… aural manipulation. I can use it to harden my body with an extra layer of defense, near impenetrable unless attacked by someone else's aura. Everyone in my universe can accomplish this with extreme training and dedication, which is why it is kept a secret."

Bakugo looked at him with extreme skepticism.

"Aura?" he scoffed. "Doesn't sound very useful. Are you sure that's stuff's real?"

Killua scowled back at him.

"Yeah," he said. He dug into his pocket for a fold-up knife, and set it against his forearm before Bakugo could protest. "Watch."

Making sure no one was watching, he pressed it against his arm. His skin bent, a near-invisible layer of thickness between the knife and his skin, but no blood was drawn. His Ten aura was up, after all.

Bakugo stared at the knife, red eyes wide. He then looked at Killua, who quickly pocketed the knife away.

"What the shit," he breathed.

"And your speed?" the boy abruptly demanded. "You can't tell me that's this aural bullshit."

"It's not," Killua said flatly. "I gained that through rigorous training. Aura can only augment it, but I don't do that very often."

Bakugo stared at him flatly, disbelievingly, then cursed. He shook his head then like a wild animal, then gave Killua a flat stare.

"No way," he said. He had completely abandoned his attention on the food. "You're almost as fast as freakin' All Might, and he uses his quirk. You're twelve, squirt. There's no freaking way."

Killua shifted his gaze away, suddenly uncomfortable.

"I was training since I was born," he said.

"Right," Bakugo said after a pause, screwing his face into a grimace. "Your f'ed up parents."

They had talked about it some nights ago, when Bakugo had first found out about Killua's past as an assassin, and Killua had moved to Bakugo's room to sleep. Naturally, they had spent much of the night talking about it, Bakugo almost idly throwing angry questions into the air, Killua answering with a nonchalant reluctance, until the seriousness had devolved into a grumbling tiredness where they had both thrown pits at each other until Bakugo fell asleep, snoring on his pillow.

"Yeah," Killua said softly, smiling. "My f'ed up parents."

He liked the sound of that, somehow.

"What the heck did they do, anyway? Make you run laps till you dropped? Zap you a little to keep you going?" Bakugo's voice held a perverse curiosity.

Killua's smile dropped.

"A little more than that," Killua said, unable to keep his voice from falling grim.

Bakugo stared at him for a long moment. His expression fell flat too, somehow sinking the longer he stared at Killua, any ekings of any humor sloughing off of him.

In a few moments, Bakugo was all sharp, all real, youth and anger all stripped away to reveal a flat, cold, seriousness.

"They tortured you," he said. It wasn't a question.

Killua shrugged.

"Pain tolerance training," he said.

Bakugo's eyes went sharp. "Fuck, brat. Are you sure you want to return to your world?"

Killua's eyes danced away from his, lips pressing into a tight line, but he nodded.

"Are you shitting stupid?" Bakugo demanded, his voice abnormally quiet, tight.

"I don't care that they did it," Killua said, meeting Bakugo's gaze. He scowled when he saw the disbelief there. "I don't. I was strong enough for it, and it made me stronger. Anyway… I don't want to go back for them."

He thought of how his father had condoned his adventures with Gon. It was one of the few good memories he had of his family.

"I want to go back to Gon," Killua finished.

Bakugo's eyes narrowed. He looked frustrated.

"Your friend," he said flatly.

Killua nodded.

"Is it really worth it?" Bakugo asked bluntly. "You have only one friend there. If you go back, your shitty family might get a hold of you again. By your own description, if you go back, keep doing what you're planning to, you'll have to constantly fight for your life, be with people at high risk. Is it fucking worth it, just for one friend?"

Killua felt everything in him bristle at Bakugo's words. Couldn't he understand how wrong they were?

"He's not just one friend," Killua said harshly. "Don't you understand how much… even one friend, means? That someone would stick up for you… stay with you… want to travel with you…" Killua bared his teeth, grimacing. "He… he showed me another way I didn't even know was possible, with all his stupid antics. He keeps… he told me…" Gon's plan for the two of them to travel the world together flashed in his mind again. "I want that. I want the future we were planning to have."

Bakugo stared at him for a long time. He seemed to lose all his edges in those seconds, somehow becoming… less.

"Good friend, huh," he said. His eyes turned skyward, and he didn't say anything else for a long moment. Killua waited.

At last, Bakugo shook his head, set his palms on the table, then stood up.

"I gotta think for a bit," he said, not really looking at Killua. "See ya."

Without another word, hands shoved into his pockets, he stood up, then headed directly to the cafeteria entrance. Killua was left staring at him, bewildered, still somewhat flushed from his own speech.

What's with him? he thought, annoyance rising to the surface. He angrily pressed his fork into his sludge-cubes, mashing them before putting them into his mouth out of stress. He barely noticed the flavor now; he was too distracted.

What was with Bakugo, telling him how he should live his life? That guy was the last one who should be doing that sort of thing. And what was with him just storming off?

"Hey, Killua."

"Hey, Yaoyorozu," he said glumly, not looking up at the girl. The rustle of clothes told him that she had sat herself across from him.

"All okay?" she asked, a gentle concern in her voice.

It made Killua look up, startled. He met her eyes.

Her concern was echoed in there clear as day, brows curved into a furrow. She wasn't looking at her food, her creation, she was looking at him. Really looking.

Killua swallowed, his throat choking on the food, suddenly feeling like ashes.

"Yaoyorozu," he said finally. "Can you… do you have any sources of reliable info?"

Her eyes betrayed her surprise.

"Sources of info?" she asked curiously, resting her hands on the table.

"Yeah," Killua said, finally managing to clear his throat again. He averted his gaze. "... like anything on interdimensionality, or old police cases, or medical corporations…" He had a sudden stroke of genius. "I just don't want to keep imposing on you to make my food," he said.

She softened.

"It's fine, Killua," she said. "I'm sorry if Jirou and I were harsh the other day. We didn't mean anything bad by it." She smiled. "We must just be stressed by the upcoming finals, you know."

Killua frowned.

"Don't worry about it," he said. "I'm serious about this, though. It's not just that. It's…" He looked back up at her, and decided some honesty might be effective with her. "Too much is out of my control," he said bluntly. "I want to be able to know what's going on, and take my own actions. Right now, I'm just waiting on the heroes for everything and it's frustrating."

Yaoyorozu gave him a considering look, retracting her hands so that she sat in a more stolid, business-like pose.

"I see," she said. "Yes… I think I can understand that." She frowned, obviously thinking for a moment. "Why don't you talk with Aizawa-sensei? As an underground hero, he must deal with information exchanges and should already be heavily involved in your case. He might be able to help you."

Killua frowned, considering the idea.

"Do you really think that old geezer would help?"

Yaoyorozu raised her eyebrows at him.

"Not if you call him that," she said. She smiled, tightly. "Best to be polite if you're asking him for anything."

Killua stared at her for a long moment. He remembered that small flash of a smile Aizawa had had at their new "resident troublemaker". Was that really so true? he wondered.

Yaoyorozu leaned in, looking at Killua intently.

"I came to ask, however, Killua, if everything was alright with you and Bakugo. I realize he can be a little…" She grimaced, eyes flitting to the right then back.

"Explosive?" Killua smiled cheerily.

She nodded an agreement, then looked at him keenly. "So has everything been well between you two?"

Killua hesitated, then shrugged.

"Yeah," he said. He grinned then, knowing the boy would hate his next words if he ever heard them. "Bakugo's quite sweet. Always looking after me~." He lost the smile, then said, "He doesn't understand why I want to go back to my world though."

Killua wasn't entirely sure why he confessed it. Maybe it was the concerned look Yaoyorozu had given him at the beginning of the conversation, maybe it was just the fact that Bakugo's words had bugged him so bad. Maybe it was the seriousness and intensity with which she was looking at him now. Maybe he was just sick of not being able to talk to anyone in this world as he really was.

"I see," Yaoyorozu said. "And you do want to go back to your world, Killua?"

Killua nodded, but his eyebrows were furrowed. He leaned forward, then set his fingers against his cheek so he was leaned all askew on the table.

"I do," he said quietly, eyes looking around the cafeteria, at the plain-textured walls, at all the students sitting and chattering together. "I have a good friend back there, waiting for me, who I want to go on adventures with. Bakugo doesn't understand that."

She thought for a second.

"You know…" she said slowly. "Bakugo doesn't seem to have many friends amongst Class 1A. Maybe that is why he felt so strongly?"

Killua shot her a startled glance. She smiled, implacable.

"I saw him storm off," she explained. "Your words fit the rest of the puzzle together."

Killua took the moment to think about that.

"He'd hate us talking about him like this," he chuckled at last, implicitly conceding the point.

She nodded, her smile returning. "He would, wouldn't he?"

Some time passed in comfortable silence after that. Killua found himself warming up to Yaoyorozu, even as he sloughed more sweetened sludge-cubes into his mouth.

"I should go," the older girl said at last, getting to her feet. "It's almost time for the next class, and as class deputy, I need to be prepared."

Killua nodded, pretending that he understood.

"See you," he said through a full mouth, waving at her.

She smiled down at him, then, a second later, as if on impulse, tussled his hair. Killua looked up at her wide-eyed, shocked.

"See you, Killua," she said, then left.

Killua sat there for a long time, thinking.

Some hours later...

Right before the hero course started later that day, All Might had immediately pulled him aside to speak with him.

"Young Zoldyck," he said gravely, looking down at him. "Detective Tsukauchi called me yesterday."

Killua's eyes widened in surprise. This wasn't about the villain attack yesterday?

"Yes," All Might said. "He told me about you being the son of assassins."

Killua shifted his body askew, plastering indifference and disinterest onto his face. So. Naomasa had gone and spilled anyway, after telling Bakugo and him to keep quiet about it.

"He wanted me to talk to you about it, as a mentor and someone close to you," the bulky, blond-haired hero said earnestly, bending his knee so he could meet at eye-level. "Young Zoldyck, it could not have been easy to throw off the dark expectations of your family."

Killua looked at All Might in shock, the conversation taking a tone he hadn't expected. But the hero wasn't yet done.

"Yesterday, I saw your heroism. You couldn't just stand aside and let it happen, could you?" The hero smiled. "Your distraction, I assure you, must have saved many lives from injury."

Killua remained staring at the hero.

"Now, this is the point where I'm supposed to tell you 'Don't do it again!' 'Leave it up to the heroes!' But I believe heroic feats should always be commended, if to be taken with greater caution. So, young Zoldyck, I want to tell you - thank you! For being there that day and stepping forward!"

Killua felt his chest constrict and face redden as the hero stared at him intently, and he had to look away.

How was this man so bright? So strong, yet so good? He hadn't expected this at all.

"You're wrong," Killua said quietly. "It wasn't heroic. It was…"

"It was that little girl, wasn't it?" All Might looked at him understandingly.

The image of a girl with black locked, her face pressed against the bannister, flashed into his mind. Killua swallowed, then shook his head fiercely.

"I'm not a hero," he said. "I didn't know what I was doing there. I had no plan. I rushed in stupidly, recklessly." He was angry at himself. "If you hadn't come, I could have died." Sencha's words flitted back to him again. "If I hadn't come here, I already would be dead."

He was so weak. Needing to depend on these heroes for everything now. He hated it.

When he chanced a glance back at All Might, he found the echoes of shock and a warm understanding written plain on his face.

"That may be, young Zoldyck," All Might said kindly. "But that is why you must be more careful in the future. Call and report an incident to the heroes or the police, immediately. That is the way of this world."

He smiled brightly, then stood to his full height.

"And you are at a hero school now, are you not!? Plus ultra! Even as an unofficially enrolled student, you can learn to be a hero with the rest of the students! Casting off your dark past, young Zoldyck, no matter how you feel it might chain you… it is not impossible to do it. And if there is any place to do it, then I know there's no better place than this school."

The hero's smile was blinding as he aimed it at Killua. Killua had to blink. He realized his mouth had dropped open, and he closed it with a snap.

"You have it all wrong," Killua said, dropping his eyes again, then continued sullenly, "I don't want to be a hero. I just…"

All Might waited, looking at him patiently.

Killua grit his teeth.

"I want to go back," he said, firmly. "That's all. I don't care about being a hero, I don't care about any of this. I just want to go back and spend time with my best friend. He's… the only one that matters."

All Might looked to be at a loss. For a long moment, the bulky man stared at Killua, a strange, almost sad look in his eyes.

Then the man took a deep breath.

"I… see." He flashed Killua another blinding All Might smile, puffing himself up. "Well, never fear! I swear it, we heroes will get you back home, back to your important friend." He lost the smile, seeing Killua's skeptical expression, then leaned down forward to be at eye level with the young boy again, and said earnestly, "Trust me, young Zoldyck. I see great potential in you, but… How could I call myself a hero if I can't help someone in need?" He paused, meeting Killua's eyes firmly, then promised, "I will get you home."

Hesitantly, a moment later, Killua nodded.

In a world, far, far away…

"Thanks!" the boy, Gon, waved, smiling at the secretary, as he ran back out the office door. "You've been a huge help!"

"No problem," she said, smiling back at him. He really was a sweet boy. She had just given him the address to her boss's place; of course, normally she would never, but the boss had left a note saying that if a young boy or a doctor with black hair appeared, she could immediately give them what they want. It was a generous offer, and she couldn't help but wonder how old Senator Mabda knew the boy.

A grandson? A family relative? The child of a friend of a friend? She could only speculate.

"You keep safe, alright?" she called after him, just before Gon had closed the door behind him. The boy paused, peeked through the doorway crack, and shot her another smile.

"Mm!" he agreed brightly. "I will, secretary-san!"

She felt shot to the heart. To be addressed by her title, and not her name…

But the boy had already turned and left, the door shutting close with a click. He was gone, and her opportunity to give him an earful for it had passed.

Well, she supposed she could forgive him. He had been a sweet boy, after all.

Humming happily, she returned to her work, working through the next finance reports for the month, setting herself to track down the next small discrepancy in her records. It seemed that things were going well; the Senator was very popular and received many donations and other shows of support. It made her job easy when everything looked so legitimate.

Of course, the Miss Secretary was no fool. She knew what appeared on paper wasn't how it all was in reality. She was just happy that her boss covered up so well, that was all.

Idly, her thoughts returned to that boy. He had a way about him that clung to her mind, cemented his image there firmly.

Maybe the love child of a secret affair? she thought to herself, smiling. She found it hard to imagine her boss loving anyone, much less having an affair.

(Okay, maybe the second one, but she doubted the dour old man could have produced such a bright, smiling boy. Not in this universe, anyway.)

After a little more idle consideration, she tossed the theory out, then forced her mind back to work, tapping her pen against the desk. The days would go on like they always did, she knew, and she would eventually forget about the boy. Maybe she would see him again, maybe she wouldn't. It was fun to speculate, but she would keep her nose out of it as much as she could.

The boss's private life was really none of her business, after all.