A/N: All for One is a little like this: you give it your little finger, and it bites off your whole arm. That's how his charisma works, basically.

Also, my search history is ruined because of this chapter and because I like to research things to make sure they're mostly factually accurate. Good thing I use duck duck go, but I saw some things I didn't want to see. Gosh, wikipedia, why don't you have filters?

Warning for profanity and semi-mature but not really (I think) content. Though the profanity's always been there so maybe I should move that warning to chapter one. Well, it's rated T anyway, so a T rating is what you're in for.

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Guest responses:

StayingForever: Honestly, your reaction made it all worth it. (responding to your review on "(but literally)") And thanks! I just like to give credit where I feel credit is due. You have a wonderful day too. :)

Knee: Yes, indeed, the story is now coming, muwahaha. Some interesting things are cooking. I have a very strong image of Killua flicking Gon in the forehead and saying "Stuuupid!" loudly. Also, haha, about your review on that other story, all I can say is you are most welcome.

OwO: Damnit All For One indeed. Evil mastermind is evil masterminding and using kids to do it. Though he's kind of always done the latter, hasn't he? Alas.

Guest again:
Heat/light/sound usage in electricity would be interesting; and this world very much does encourage creative "quirk" usage that might give Killua some ideas. I saw another fic do some interesting stuff with isolating positive and negative charges and I would kind of love to do something like that, though I also don't want to copy. *sweatdrop* But first I need to somehow get a fight scene to actually happen! Really, you'd think that Killua would have landed up in a real fight by now, but no, rationality has dictated that it hasn't happened yet. Alas. (I don't think Himiko counts.)

I like to see characters more as people than characters, so I would argue that Gon is actually a pretty nuanced human being for his percieved simplicity. You can see it a lot in the manga, he's actually a lot cleverer than percieved to be/projected as. He has strong animal instincts from his time in the forest. He wins fights by often being sneaky about it and thinking outside the box, and often comes to conclusions about how to win faster than Killua does, though Killua . Gon also did still make this decision quite impulsively though; since it only took him a few minutes to decide. Most importantly, Gon still views himself as a good person (even if he doesn't think about it really), and so I don't think he could decide "I will abandon my friend for my dream when it's not even certain I would lose my dream" when the decision is so starkly put like that. But anyway, that's a rant on character analyses because I like to rant on about character analysis. Thanks for dropping the review again; 'tis appreciated. :)

Guest: Hmm, it is an interesting problem, isn't it? All I can say that it's probably not quite what you think it is, and that I can take some liberties also due to the minor MHA AU of the two worlds being connected. :):)

Dudebro: Hey, thank you! Your review is awesome. That's sort of exactly I'm hoping you'd be wondering :):) But anyhow, you shall find out! Thank you for reading, and hope you enjoy.

kiru anon: You are awesome. And don't worry about it, I'm happy to recieve one or two; both your reviews have honestly made me really happy. But your rl stuff is important, so don't overstress about needing to reply or review or anything. I just hope you keep on enjoying the story and it helps you relax (is relax the right word here?). But anyhow, thanks for dropping a review again.

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Chapter Nineteen

The month soon came to a close, June turning into July without a special note. Killua had fallen into a routine, the daily schedule of school making time fly by as if it were nothing, moments reduced into crunched patterns rather than vivid and agonizing moments of passing time.

He was being integrated into this world, he knew it. Bakugo's dad had gotten him a phone, just like the slick one Bakugo had, and wished him good night, briefly looking up from his newspaper, every time Killua padded to his bed roll in Bakguo's room. He trained, joked with the other students at UA. He kept up a healthy banter with Bakugo, who had softened up to him, even if he'd never say it.

The other students had gotten him two new masks, after his old one had been destroyed. Uraraka and the others had made a celebration of it, and told Killua to invite anybody he knew. At the party, to everyone's amusement but Killua's, Sencha had painted little kitten whiskers on the second mask. "Stray kitten" became an annoying nickname that got passed around the classroom by the girls. He was mortified the first time Bakugo used it, though Bakugo's nasty look luckily ameliorated the sensation.

He kept trying to talk to Aizawa, but the pro hero kept brushing him off, refusing to help him with his "reckless desire to get yourself killed". Killua had tried other routes, underground routes, but slowly, he found himself talking to Bakugo less and less about his plans to track Kyoshi and more about what Mirio had taught him that day, the pranks they were planning to pull, and all the weird things he had noticed about this world or about the other students while sitting in class.

For once in his life, Killua was feeling like a normal kid.

Of note was Mineta's reappearance back into Class 1A, the grapefruit-haired boy stomping back into the classroom after two weeks of being absent, just before final exams. The class had worried over him - primarily the boys - but Mineta had frozen stiff the moment his eyes turned to Killua, sitting in the back of the class.

Killua had tossed him a casual wave, not feeling any sort of grudge, just good, but obviously, the boy didn't have the same devil-may-care attitude over what had happened a month ago. After all, Killua was the one who had broken into his home, and demanded him to give Killua Aizawa's phone number. Mineta hadn't mentioned it, but Killua had also filched a set of cards on the way, which he had long since left in the trovels of Bakugo's home somewhere. He remembered vaguely choosing Mineta because he looked the weakest out of the class, when he had watched clips of the net-broadcasted UA Sports Festival in the library right after being kicked out of the Sencha's place.

It was funny, wasn't it, the things one forgot about? It seemed to be an eternity ago when he had threatened that grape-haired stub with his killing intent, that rainy night.

Mineta obviously didn't agree with the sentiment, unfortunately. He had immediately squeaked to Aizawa after class, and it resulted in Killua getting into some trouble. After school, he was forced to do some volunteer work, but it wasn't so bad. Picking up bottles off the side of the street, that sort of thing. Funnily enough, he thought he once spotted Sencha's mom out there too, though she hadn't stopped to say hi. Killua wasn't surprised.

Detective Naomasa had called him once again, but it was only to tell him that all traces of Kyoshi had disappeared again. His voice was frustrated when he told him the case had gone cold.

All Might, on the other hand, had been surprisingly helpful and determined in finding quirks to get Killua home. He personally promoted the case on media, and talked to dozens of possible quirk candidates. All of them seemed to have potential, but were all just a shot off from "interdimensional travel" capabilities - a "return to place of origin" quirk, for example, being just shy of interdimensional travel due to a distance limitation.

This drove Killua's suspicions home of an "interdimensional suppressor". He shared his theory with All Might, and the hero had looked disturbed. Beyond that, however, they had made no substantial progress, and things remained the same as they always were.

Oh, and there was one other important thing that had happened before final exams, wasn't there?

He had been shocked, one day, to find that Sencha's mom wasn't Sencha's mom. That is, she wasn't herself, not that she wasn't Kirko's actual parent. She had approached him all nice one day - strangely - when he was over at Sencha's house. He realized her aura was off, and when Kirko ran off to the bathroom, demanded who she was. It turned out it was Himiko Toga, the crazy girl he had met at Giran's hideout, and she had been curious enough about him to find his civilian ID. He told her to buzz off, and soon enough was able to drive the girl away, shouting "Rude!" at him with her tongue stuck out. As if the crazy girl couldn't act any more childish – and she was older than him besides.

Sencha's mom had then been found in the basement, tied up. After she was safe and untied, Killua rushed out of the house. After the fact, Sencha told him her mom had kicked up a huge fuss and it was probably best to stay away for some time. Sencha's mom had never been too keen on him.

At the beginning of July, final exams were all abuzz. Much to Killua's amusement, Bakugo had been paired with Midoriya, against All Might no less. They passed on the edge of their teeth, but Killua had taken all kinds of shots using his new :"smartphone" for blackmail material. With them fighting in close quarters, there was no way they wouldn't have a few moments that couldn't be misconstrued, and Killua took great delight in framing the shots just so, then passing them on to Mina, who giggled at the sight.

Bakugo had been beyond mad when he found out Killua had actually spread rumors about him and Midoriya, through Mina. Killua had almost actually felt guilty, with how serious the older boy had looked. But Mina's encouragement and the other gossip mills of the class goaded him forward, and he decided to keep the content going, just hush to Bakugo and Midoriya, and save the material for when he needed it most.

After final exams were over, the summer term was quick to come. Aizawa announced to the class about a "summer training camp", and this is where Killua's routine and calm life crunched to a halt.

After class, Aizawa had asked him if he wanted to come with the rest of the class.

Killua, after thinking for a moment, had declined. He had realized it was high time to stretch out of this peace and get back to work, for one final burst before he called it quits and left it up to All Might. Now that school was on break, he finally had an opportunity to search for Kyoshi in earnest, or for another way home, or for that medical food-production factory. The last one he had long since resigned himself against, since his early efforts had so failed, and Yaoyorozu's molecular cooking had drastically improved.

Maybe he was getting soft? he wondered, idly shaking his ice-cold drink side to side.

He was practicing nen every morning, now managing to get a consistent and powerful thread of electricity spanning from hand to hand, and was excelling in the practice scenarios construed for them in UA's hero course, but these were a far cry from a real fight. He thought this was the longest it had ever been since he hadn't fought for his life. When he was young, his training had been ruthless. Even with Gon, they were always intent on getting stronger and seemed to always somehow land themselves in trouble.

Gon, he thought, pang again through his chest. These new friends were good, but they obviously weren't the same.

He wasn't sure now if he'd ever see his friend again.

Killua was definitely getting soft. He knew Gon would never give up on him like this, let the possibility of his return devolve into a "maybe", in favor of spending his time to live a normal life. But Gon was better than him, so that was to be expected.

After a moment, he found he couldn't keep up his wistful, self-recriminating attitude.

There, sitting in a seedy bar in Kabukicho district, his peaceful life came crashing down in one blistering second.

No, he thought, fist tightening over the splotched wooden counter.

I'm not giving up.

His nails dug into his palm, the pain sharpening his mind. Sense abruptly flew into him, flying into his brain like a whiplash hammer as he finally recalled who he was.

What was he, stupid? To think for so long he could just live this normal life, idling away, forgetting himself? Forgetting where he came from, his best friend? His only friend?

Did he think that these parties and celebrations and classes and teachings and chatter was enough, meant anything that mattered to him?

Did he really think they could pierce the darkness inside of him, that wretched thing?

No.

Killua was beyond redeemable, he knew it like a priest knows the word of God. He would never fit into this world of light, where heroes laughed and played and studied. He was like a wolf in sheep's clothing, disguising himself for weeks, months, but finally, one day, the facade would fall, reveal his ugly and hungry innards. What was he kidding himself with? Did he think that if he kept the mask on for so long, he would one day become it? That if he pretended and pretended, he would one day be a normal kid, innocent of the blood dripping off his fingers?

They never need to know, he thought darkly, but also, he thought, one day they need to.

Killua was stained. Killua was reprehensible. Killua was abandoning his friend, giving up on Gon though Gon had never given up on him, incessantly pursued him even to the peak of his sins, to his own family home, where surely, he would have known all that Killua was and been warned and warned away.

Had he fallen that low?

Illumi's words echoed through his mind.

"Gon is a novelty, a radiant presence… who has piqued your curiosity. No more than that."

Killua felt sick.

No. It wasn't true.

Gon was more than that.

They were friends.

Killua was Gon's friend. When he sat on the cliffside, on Whale Island, and Gon had said all those things to him, Killua had finally known it for sure. He had finally had a place he wanted to be, a place he belonged, a place he could stay, not just a laundry list of things he didn't want to do.

That kind of light, that kind of life… shined more in Killua's sight than anything he had seen in his early life as an assassin.

Had he really thought he could "call it quits"? Leave it up to All Might? What was he, a fool? To leave such an important thing in the hands of someone else?

He wouldn't give up. Killua was stained, but Gon was the one who showed him the light and true spark that life could have. He was sick of killing, sick of being consigned to his family's legacy, sick of damning himself to it too. He was sick of Illumi's words constantly echoing through his mind, chaining himself down, telling him to self-doubt and to reach out for nothing but a dull acceptance of his own fate.

Killua was not that, he decided, fingers clenching around his glass. Killua was free, free to fight for what he wanted, free to be what he wanted. It was about time for him to start finding out what that meant, and take his fate into his own hands.

To start with, he decided he didn't want this peaceful life anymore.

"Hey, kid…" Killua's head snapped up. It was the barkeep, and he approached Killua at the corner of the bar counter, eyes narrowed suspiciously, watching Killua's hands as best he could above the countertop. "Whatch'ya doing there…" Seeing Killua's sweat beaded on his face, his fingers curled like claws around his glass, the barkeep's eyes narrowed further, and he said, "now look, I don' let any druggies in here…"

"I'm fine," Killua said coldly. He took a breath through his nose, feeling his heart rate slow, level out again, relaxed his death grip on his cup. Then he stood up abruptly, and, adopting his usual cocky attitude, leaning back, said loudly, "I was just about to leave anyway. Nothing worth seeing in your shitty bar."

The barkeep's eyes widened, an angry look transforming his face. Killua could tell there were a few choice words the barkeep wanted to say about him, but he was already out the door before they could be spoken. He didn't have enough time to mock and taunt.

Where to next? he wondered.

He was in Kabukicho district to gather more info and connections. It was a seedy, red light district by night, and a rather more normal, glamorous district by day. It had a reputation, or so he had read in this worlds' version of the Netscape, and Killua's plan had been to barhop, listen in to the clientele and see if anyone talked about anything useful.

That had been his first plan, anyway.

Once he had finally gotten into a bar, after being kicked out three times for his age, the results had been disappointing. There were hustlers, scammers, and even the occasional drugger, the later into the night it got, but they were all small-time. He didn't think they had any backing beyond their own personal small profits.

It was time to start taking things a little more seriously, he decided. He needed to think a little bigger, more targeted. If his goal was to gather info on a target, where would he look?

His training made the solution easy: Gather a list of family members, friends, acquaintances. Then narrow down on the target until you had enough information to strike.

But if the target's identity was unknown?

Killua's family had always kept connections to narrow down targets and collect information. Usually, it wasn't a problem, since the Zoldyck's targets were always usually prominent powerhouses. One did not, after all, call down the power of the Zoldyck's for a small two-timing cheat; no, their assassinations were reserved for people with means or power.

There were, however, cases where the target was hidden, and in those times the Zoldyck network of information brokers often piled in. Killua's dad and grandfather had been the ones to often handle that, though on his missions, of course, Killua had been taught to work with them in preparation for the day that he would take over his family's business.

Now, of course, he had no such ready connections. There was Giran, but he was hardly trustworthy and clearly had his own agenda. But maybe, instead of relying on established information brokers, who likely already had villainous connections, he could recruit a different kind of source.

Someone who would often be exposed to secrets of others… he thought, but not so on the side of the law that they'd be likely to rat me out or question me too much.

After a moment of thinking, the answer became obvious.

Killua began walking down the street, then watched as several bawdy and obviously drunk men staggered into a dimly lit building, a flashy pink sign above the door matching the rest of the glitz of the rapidly-darkening street. They laughed raucously, and Killua, taking this as a promising sign, slipped in after them.

He did his best to stay behind them, but since he wanted to be noticed, he didn't try too hard to be hidden. The drunk men staggered forward and, after talking sloshily to a lady at the counter and hurriedly pulling out leafs of yen from their pockets, were led up the stairs where heavy music played loudly.

"Hey, boy," a soft voice said from his left a moment later, "you're a little young to be here, aren't you?"

Killua looked up, expression droll.

"I know," he said. The woman's eyes flicked curiously to his mask, ran up and down his face, before meeting his own eyes levelly. "I wanted to ask you for some info."

At these words, she raised a single, sculpted eyebrow on a soft, rounded face. Her painted lips turned flat, and she cocked one arm onto her hip, deliberate. Then she said, flatly, "We don't entertain kids here, sorry. Now scram."

Killua scowled. "I'm not here for that," he said. "I just want to talk, and ask about something."

"Talking costs money," she said, eyebrow still raised, the rest of her body frozen into that cocky posture. "And you're not a client. Get out of the door before another real customer comes."

Killua stepped from the doorway, deeper into the hallway. At the same time, the lady at the counter returned from the doorway on the second floor, and she stilled immediately at the top of the stairs, before giving the other woman a cautious look.

"Kira?" she asked. "What's a kid doing here?"

The first woman sighed, then shot Killua a look, relaxing her stance finally as she turned to look at her coworker.

"Being a nuisance," she said. "You know how these kids are…" She turned her look back at Killua, obviously annoyed now. "Aren't your parents looking for you? It's too late to be out in this kind of place alone."

Killua shook his head, also feeling annoyed but deciding to play the game. "My parents are gone." He paused, then looked up at her imploringly. "C'mon, please, nee-chan? It'll only take a moment and I'll be out of your hair."

"An orphan?" the woman muttered, before looking at her compatriot coming down the stairs questioningly.

The other woman sighed, returning her look, then, when she was back on the first floor landing, said, "Just take him to the office, Kira, and I'll hold the front here. Let me know if you want me to call the police."

The first woman, Kira, sighed with her, then grabbed Killua by the shoulders, fingers sharply digging into his shirt, and pushed him through a curtain just off to the side of the door. As soon as they passed through, the dim light transformed into a brightly well-lit room, with clean desks, two computers, and papers everywhere. There were a number of ledgers scattered about. She let him go, striding over to sit at a chair by a computer, then turned to look at Killua, who looked unhappy and was rolling his shoulders.

"Alright, kid," she said, also sounding unhappy. Her voice took on a drastic shift from the corridor, no longer sounding polished but rather rough and blunt. She looked at him through slitted, bored eyes. "What's your deal? Too curious for your own good? Desperately in need of help due to your tragic orphan past? Now you're out of the way, so go ahead and spill."

Killua stared at her for a long moment. He thought she was a strange old lady, but he kept his mouth shut about it for now. He thought through his next words.

"I'm looking for someone," he said finally. "I was hoping you could help me find them."

Now both her eyebrows raised, a spark of carefully-hidden interest giving a tint of life to her bored expression.

"Is this related to your tragic orphan past?" She shook her head, then sighed, leaning forward so that her chin rested against the palm of her hand and her neck was craned forward, though her flat eyes were still on him. "Look, kid, just go to the police. A pink salon's not a place for this kind of thing."

"I can't go to the police," Killua said. "The person I'm looking for has gone… underground."

The woman cursed, then closed her eyes in a long-suffering manner.

"Look," she said, "if you're here because you heard any rumors about the yakuza…"

Killua perked up. Yakuza?

"... then you should leave. They're a dying group, yes, they're often in Kabukicho, but we have nothing to do with them. I can't help you."

Killua thought fast.

"I don't care about the yakuza," he said, nearly tripping over the unfamiliar word, "but can you just ask around? Maybe someone has heard of her."

The woman opened her eyes, squinted at him, then returned his droll look. She then smiled.

"What, does she work in the sex industry?"

Seeing his shocked look, she rolled her eyes.

"Right, you're a kid. Sorry, does she work in the lovely self-pleasuring industry?"

Killua choked. He furiously looked away.

"No," he said, then hesitated, thinking of how he thought Kyoshi must have somehow gone underground to avoid the "suppressor". "Well, maybe," he said cautiously.

"And there you have it," she intoned, her manner now almost-friendly, something lighting her eyes with a sadistic humor, "the tragic orphan's past. Abandoned cruelly by his mother, and he goes on a noble search for her past, only to discover the truth of his own origins as an accident."

Killua scowled, though he had to admit he was somewhat happy that she had invented a backstory for him.

"That's not why I'm here," he said.

"Right," she said, rolling her eyes. "Alright, cough it up. What's her name?"

Killua looked at her suspiciously, eyes narrowed.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll help, you stupid kid. If there's anything that really bothers me about the world, it's a kid being out on their own. Just tell me her name." She flicked her fingers in a "hurry it up" gesture and nearly yawned. Her laizz lefaire expression was at complete contrast with the careful makeup and elegant gown she had.

"Hakira Kyoshi," he said, gritting his teeth, having to fight not barking back at her for the "stupid kid" comment. He watched her face carefully for signs of recognition, but there were none.

"Hmm, don't recognize it," she said. "You've checked the net, right? Got nothing on that front?"

Killua shook his head. "Only mentions of some 'airbender', and I don't think that was real…"

"How about Whitepages?"

He looked up at her, and blinked twice.

She scoffed.

"Kid, you've got a lot to learn. Come on, over here." She whipped her chair around, then waved around her mouse, so the computer screen got all lit up. Killua walked up so that he was behind her chair, peering over her shoulder. "If you really want to find someone, you get a step closer using these information-gathering sites. You just better wish they don't have a common name, like my bastard father, or else you have to go a step up and hire a private detective or some such."

She clicked a couple of times, and Killua followed avidly, more familiar with this process than with this world's phones. She took him to a site, quickly logged in, then typed in Hakira Kyoshi's name in the main search bar.

"Look, I already got something," she said. "Phone number, hmm… It looks like an old address is listed here. Crime record too. I can get it here, since this account is all paid for already." She gave him a considering look, then ran her eyes up and down his second-hand clothes, his mask, before turning her attention back to her screen. "I can print these out for you here, but the rest is up to you. You better get some payback for me helping you this much, hmm?" She clicked a few more buttons, and the machine next to her began humming.

Killua frowned. "...Payback?" he asked cautiously.

"You're not wearing that mask for nothing, are you?" she asked, shooting him a quick, pitying look. "I understand. Sometimes it happens. You want to be careful. Shame for you when you get older though."

Killua had no idea what she was talking about. Before he could make heads or tails of it, however, the loud printing machine had stopped humming, and she spoke again.

"Alright, here." She lifted off several sheaths of paper from the printer, then handed it to him. He took it, then looked down at them eagerly - "Hakira Kyoshi" was listed at the top in bold print. He flipped through them, noting the address listed - not in Tokyo, but someplace called Hikone - and the crime records, which were all generally petty crimes of thievery and one early incident of quirk usage.

"You get her good, you hear, kid?" the woman was saying and Killua nodded absently. "What's your name anyway?"

He hesitated for a moment, looking up this time, then said, "Killua."

"Just Killua?" she asked, raising an eyebrow, and he nodded. "Well, I'm Kira. Nice to meet you, Killua."

"Nice to meet you too," he muttered, having been taught that in this world they were the correct words to say. His eyes drifted down back to the papers again. Could it really be so easy?

"Now," she said, "we better get you home somehow. Even if your parents are shit and missing, you shouldn't have come here alone, you know." She narrowed her eyes at seeing his distraction, then leaned forward, saying emphatically. "This street's no joke at night and it's already way too late for someone as young as you to be here. How about I call you a taxi?"

He leaned back, then waved a hand in the air, smiling.

"It's no problem," he said. "I can get back on my own."

She sighed, regaining her initial straight-backed posture, then shook her head, bun jostling. "No. Really, look. It can get bad and I don't want a kid like you out there. How did you get here?"

Killua thought he could take on any small-time criminal himself, but he decided to humor her.

"The train," he said. "It wasn't far."

"I'll walk you back to the station myself," she said. "I'll call off work a little early."

Killua looked at her skeptically. "Why?" he asked, tightening his grip on his papers, losing some of his abrupt good mood.

She raised an eyebrow. "Is it so hard to believe that I don't want a little kid walking alone by himself at night?"

"Yeah," Killua said bluntly. "What's in it for you?"

She sighed long-sufferingly, then looked to the ceiling. Then she dropped her gaze back to him.

"Fine," she said, bored expression plastered on stronger than ever. "A good excuse to end my shift early and go home. Happy?"

Killua was. He nodded shortly.

It wasn't long after that that they were both out the door, makeup scourged from Kira's face and her shift excused. They were out in the night of the busy street, red lights and screens glimmering from every direction. It was chilly, and she wrapped a shapeless jacket around herself as she confidently led the way back up the street, back where Killua knew the station was.

She eyed him while walking.

"Good stance," she commented. "Gives the tough street vibes, obviously on alert. When you've got a little more body mass, that'll do you well."

Killua smiled. Of course he was strong and watchful; it wasn't just a cover. He was just about to tell her so, knowing she wouldn't believe him, when his eyes caught one of the screens littering the street's buildings.

He quickly lost the smile, and stopped walking abruptly, staring up at the screen, not quite believing what he was seeing.

The woman stopped beside him a moment later, staring up at it curiously with him.

"Huh, that is strange, isn't it?" she commented. "Usually these just show ads or when some big news comes up…"

She kept talking, but Killua didn't listen. His eyes remained latched to the screen, a feeling of foreboding filling him.

"Hey, kid? Kid!"

From the lit screen, Bakugo's pixelated face stared down at him. At the base of the screen, in scrolling text, it read:

UA Student Kidnapped!

League of Villains strikes again…

"Damn it. Killua? Is everything o- "

And Killua tore away, not bothering to say goodbye or give an explanation to the woman, hot anger rising in his chest as he ran towards Giran's hideout.