You woke with a start to the sound of a blaring alarm beside you. Your head whipped around, eyes landing on the desk where your phone was vibrating violently against the wooden surface. As if the full-volume siren wasn't enough, this thing was like a jackhammer the way it shimmied across the table. You groaned sleepily, rubbing your eyes to clear your vision. Sunlight now streamed into the room through the uncovered window.

'What time is it?'

Since these alarms were likely set by Stiller, you doubted they accounted for jet lag. A light thunk sounded from the floor beside you as your phone fell from the desk onto the carpet. You let out a deep sigh and stared up at the ceiling, phone still buzzing on the floor. You were well aware that you had gotten enough sleep in the last 24 hours, yet you still couldn't bring yourself to get up.

BUZZ-BUZZ

Your watch now also called for your attention. Lifting your arm above your face, you tapped the display to read the incoming message:

'Wake up.'

"Are you fucking serious?" You growled. You plopped your arm back onto the sheets, using the opposite hand to wipe your face in an exasperated fashion. Stiller hadn't sent you a wake-up call via watch in years. Why did he feel so compelled to do it now? That man would be the death of you. You summoned the strength to roll over and retrieve your cell. It practically made your entire arm shake as you picked it up and shut off the alarm.

'6:30 AM' it read.

At least there was plenty of time to get ready. You glanced at the red battery symbol in the top corner of the screen.

'Shit, I forgot to charge it.' This cellphone thing was going to take some getting used to.

You glanced over at the dresser on the other end of the room where your charger lay. Feeling too lazy to walk the seven feet to grab it, you used your quirk to bring it to you. The black box sped across the room, stopping when it met your palm. The cord that was attached to it, however, continued forward to smack you in the face with the rest of its built-up momentum. You flinched at the sudden, stinging pain in your cheek.

"Ye-up, that one's on me." You mumbled as you reached over to plug the charger into the outlet beside the bed. Stiller had given you a generous two hours before you had to be at the training facility, but you still had no idea where that was; you'd need time to find it. You also had to stop for breakfast somewhere and for that, your phone had to be charged, but you would also need it to use the map, and now that you were thinking about it, you probably needed to find a place to bathe, and hey, there's not anyone in the offices yet, is there?

"God, brain, please just shut up for five minutes." Your head was too full of thoughts. Keeping track of tasks mentally wasn't usually a chore, but doing all of this on your own in an unfamiliar setting was going to take some adjusting. Usually, by now, you'd be heading to the bathroom to shower, then to the cafeteria, and finally to wherever Stiller needed you to be. Except for the shower, this was essentially the same. You glanced down at your hero costume that still lay on the floor, unsure if you should wear it. You did wear it all day yesterday, no doubt it soaked up some sweat. Your face went sour at the thought, but it didn't seem like there was much choice. You opted to bring it in the case but would wear something else for training. Hopping up from your bed, you used your quirk again to summon the hairbrush, toothbrush, and toothpaste from the dresser. You turned back to your untidy bed, telekinetically hovering the mattress above the frame and tucking the sheets tightly underneath before gently replacing it and heading for the door.

Just as you suspected, it looked like the building was empty. It was likely that it was still too early for anyone to be at work. That was just fine with you. It was probably best that no one saw you brushing your teeth in the shared restrooms while wearing your nightclothes. It felt awkward passing by the lobby on your way to the bathroom.

"Looks like I'm going to have to wake up this early every day." You muttered, not wanting to know the awkward shame of running into a stranger (or even worse, someone who knew you) in your current state. You took your time readying and admiring yourself in the mirror. Despite your crappy night and your rude awakening, you were feeling much better. Once you returned to your room, you decided on some comfortable street clothes in hopes they could double as a viable training outfit. There was no mirror in this room, and if you were being completely honest, you didn't feel like trekking back down the hall again. You walked over to the desk to check on your phone; the battery was about half-full now.

"Eh, good enough." You said, unplugging the charger and navigating to the camera. It wasn't hard to figure out how to put it into "selfie-mode." You couldn't help yourself. Though you didn't look stunning, you had never had the opportunity to recreationally take photos of yourself. Posing superfluously, smiling, and making the occasional silly face, you snapped a few pictures. You laughed softly as you flipped through them in the gallery. It may have been a simple thing, but it made you feel happy. With your newly energized attitude, you used your quirk to shove our hero suit into its case and bring it to you. Your feet didn't touch the ground the whole way down the hall and through the lobby.

You landed in front of the front doors and mentally prepped yourself to keep up your good mood. "This is a different day- a better day." You affirmed. Placing your hands on the glass doors, you gave them an assured push.

"Huh?"

They didn't budge.

"Okay, maybe it's a pull." You said, grabbing the handles and giving them a light tug. Still nothing. Confused, you pushed and pulled on the handles some more, shaking the doors as you did. You gave up and plopped your forehead against the glass, disheartened. It was locked from the outside.

"Of course."

Turning on your heel, you headed back to your room. Upon entering, you unlocked the latch on the window and lifted it open before climbing over the desk to get out. You weren't about to let this one setback ruin your day. The garden outside was even nicer during the day. You hovered above the flowers and other plants as you made your way to the sidewalk.

The training facility wasn't as far as you had anticipated. You were able to comfortably fly there in just under 30 minutes and had time to stop for breakfast on the way. You munched on your sandwich as you traversed the halls in search of Stiller. Following the signs for the "Open Training Area." The place seemed nearly abandoned. Shouldn't there be some sort of staff walking around? You seemed to recall the old building was crawling with employees and overseers all the time. Though, it would make sense that there were no more overseers given that there was no more program. Still, where were the others?

You entered an open arena-like zone with walls that looked to be about thirteen feet high and seats surrounding the ovular pit. Various work-out equipment, as well as some other machines you didn't recognize, were scattered around the area. At the far end of the room, you found Stiller speaking with someone you assumed to be an employee. He wasn't dressed formally now but instead wore work-out attire.

"There you are! I was beginning to think I'd shown up to the wrong place." You called in a chipper tone. Stiller broke away from his conversation to look at your approaching form. He quietly thanked the woman before excusing himself. At first, his face looked as though it held its usual monotone demeanor; however, as he moved closer, it seemed as though there was something else just beneath his tough outer layer that you couldn't quite pin-point. You didn't trust it. You quirked an eyebrow up in a questioning manner as you took another bite of your food.

"You do realize I can see the photos you take, right?" He said, holding up his own cell which displayed your selfies from earlier.

In that moment, you wanted nothing more than the ability to opt-out of existence- you no longer wished to be perceived. Though you wore the biggest smile you could, your eyes were wide with horrified embarrassment and regret. Had you known about this earlier, there would have been no way you'd have taken those pictures. Sure, they weren't inappropriate, but your exaggerated expressions and eager poses were something to only be enjoyed by you. Stiller bore a small grin of his own as he pocketed his phone. "Just be more careful about what you do in private." It seemed he was done poking fun at you for now.

He shifted his attention to some of the equipment off to the left. "We'll be doing some special training today. Just you and I." He nodded down to the case in your hand. "How's the suit been working out for you?"

You shrugged. "Overall, it's fine, but I think there are a few adjustments that could be made. Padding for one…" You began.

"Yes, Hawks mentioned you had a run-in with a building last night. I'm surprised at you." Stiller commented.

'That traitor!' You cursed Keigo internally.

"Which reminds me…" Stiller continued, waltzing off to a portable table that was set up nearby. He returned with something in his arms and held the item out for you.

'A helmet?' You took it gently and examined the slick exterior. It was nice and surprisingly lightweight. It had an adjustable visor that moved up and down, and the bottom part looked to be a fitted respirator.

"Now if you hit something, your head will be protected. It will also help filter out chemicals, so you can fly closer to the fighter jets when we get back home." You didn't like the inevitability of returning to the States. This was home. You'd only been back less than 24 hours, but in that time, you'd been given more freedom than you'd seen in a long time; not to mention your reunion with Keigo had sent your mood sky high. Stiller went on: "And don't think I've forgotten about your little speeding fiasco at the base. You'll be doing some extra exercises and I want to see you putting in twice the effort, understood?" You hated when he took this tone with you; it made you feel like a child being scolded by their parent.

"Yeah." You nodded. "What is it we're doing today? We haven't trained alone together in a couple of years."

"The villains they showed during the briefing; do you remember them?"

"Yeah."

"Do you remember their quirks?"

"Decay, transform, duplication, warpgate…" They came easily off the top of your head.

"And?" Stiller pushed.

"... and fire." You prayed he would not pick up on the hesitance in your voice as you said it. Stiller, of all people, understood your aversion to fire the most. It wouldn't be hard for him to notice your uneasiness. You thought back to your encounter with Dabi in the alleyway. His mere presence intimidated you, but of course, you'd never admit it.

"And?" Stiller urged again, breaking you away from your distracting thoughts. Oh. There was more? He wasn't just talking about Dabi. You thought back to the meeting.

"Are you talking about those monster things?" You asked.

"The nomus. Yes. They have multiple quirks." He explained. "Our training today will have you focusing not only on defense against the villains' known quirks, but against those hybrids as well. I've set up a few things that should simulate a fight with them fairly well, and you will work to evade any attacks." It seemed simple enough. You looked around at the unfamiliar machines, assuming they must be the simulations.

"Let's do it."

You completed your stretching and warm-up exercises together; Stiller did them with you just as he always had when the two of you trained together. Once you were finished, he led you to what you were now referring to as the "baddie machines."

"Go stand over there." Stiller instructed as he headed towards one of the contraptions. You stared at it curiously. It had a long tube on the end that pointed directly at you. Stiller flipped a switch on the side and picked up a remote. The machine began to whir softly.

"What's tha- OOF" You were rudely interrupted by a dense, grapefruit-sized ball slamming into your side. Your ribs ached in protest to having been pummeled a second time. You bent over and clutched your side. Ordinarily, the strike wouldn't have bothered you much, but considering the previous abuse the area had faced, you weren't excited for the next shot.

"Dickhead." You squeaked out. Stiller looked as if he were trying hard to conceal a cheeky smile.

"That shouldn't have hurt you that bad. Were you hurt yesterday? Do you need me to turn it down?" He asked. You shook your head and stood up straight as you attempted to ignore the pain.

"Right. You've trained with something like this before. Essentially, Shigaraki could kill you if he touches you with all five fingers. The young girl you saw will likely try to cut or stab you. Your job is to evade these balls or create a barrier to keep them away. Either way, don't let them touch you. And to make sure you're keeping them away…" He paused and pointed at your torso. You glanced down at your shirt to find bright orange chalk now stained it. "... the balls will tag you when you're struck."

"Right." You nodded.

"We start now." Stiller stated quickly. He had barely finished his sentence before another ball hurled towards you. This time, however, you were able to use your quirk to stop it just a foot away from your face.

"Don't hold it, just block it." He called as he shot another ball. This one smacked right into the previous one before bouncing to the floor. Another ball grazed your ear as it zoomed past your head. You spun around quickly.

'That one came from behind!' You scanned the area for the other machine. Up in the stands, you could just barely make out the long launch tube between some seats.

"Did you think we'd just be playing catch all day?" Stiller said. The faint sound of the machine firing behind you sounded once again. "Remember, they have a duplication quirk." As quickly as you could, you formed an invisible barrier between your head and the ball. It was a useful trick taught to you by Stiller when you'd first begun training with him. The ball ricocheted off and back in Stiller's direction. Your trainer casually raised his hand to protect his face. His familiar blue shield appeared to block the projectile, but this was no time to be watching Stiller. Another shot sounded from a different part of the gym, forcing you to jump back to avoid being hit. Another ball landed beside your feet. Perhaps it would be safer in the air. You sent yourself up higher than the wall of the arena only to be met immediately with six consecutive shots. He had been anticipating aerial maneuvers. You moved skillfully, dodging some balls and knocking away others.

'These things have to run out of ammo sometime.' You reasoned as you continued to avoid being pelted.

It seemed Stiller had decided that he'd observed you from the ground for long enough. "Good job!" He encouraged. "Let's turn it up a little." With the remote still in his hand, he bounded upwards. The barriers he created under his feet supported his weight as he ran, acting as stairs to move him higher. He knew where these machines were set up and he had full control over which of them fired when. As he ran around you, he strategically placed his blue-hued shields in the air. He let loose another ball. Of course, you dodged the initial attack; however, you failed to notice it bounce off of a newly placed shield as you focused on blocking a different ball that had been sent your way. The uncomfortable sensation of firm rubber smacking the back of your thigh made you wince.

"Look out, it's only going to get harder from here." Stiller was back on the ground now. You spent the next half hour dodging and blocking shot after shot after shot, and your body was beginning to feel fatigued. Your upper back and pectoral muscles were becoming sore as you floated about quickly. You made your way to the ground, panting heavily once you'd landed. A new sound emanated off to the side.

WHOOSH

A wave of physical warmth and mental panic washed over you. You didn't have to look over to see the yellow-orange glow of the fire flickering on the wall.

'A flamethrower?' You stood up straight as a second heatwave approached. Concentrating on the energy held by the flames, you dispersed them before they came anywhere close. Another blast came from a different area, closer this time. You jumped out of the way just in time to see a stream of flames rush beneath your feet. Another ball fired once your feet left the ground again. It was becoming increasingly difficult to deal with these threats. You managed to dodge the next two or three shots but were met with flames each time you touched the ground. The floor meant fire.

"They're motion activated. I'd be careful where you land if I were you." Stiller yelled.

'If I keep up my barrier the whole time, I'll tire myself out too quickly.' You thought as you simultaneously deflected more incoming balls and blocked another barrage of flame.

'Honestly, where do these assholes even get the funding for this shit?'

Your arms and legs were beginning to feel like noodles, and the temperature of the room was rising with every burst from the flamethrowers.

"You getting tired?" Stiller questioned. You couldn't tell if it was genuine, or if he was teasing you. Sweat dripped from your forehead. You weren't sure how much longer you'd be able to keep this up so neatly. Just as the thought popped into your mind, something slammed into the back of your head, leaving you discombobulated. In your daze, two others managed to strike your shoulder and torso. The searing pain that shot through your side sent you tumbling to the ground. You gripped your ribs as your legs hit the ground with a loud smack.

"Ouch." You groaned.

WHOOSH

'Shit!' A wall of flame shot at you from the right. There was no time to disperse them. You put up your invisible barrier, effectively keeping them away. A second wave came at you from the front. Your eyes widened in surprise for a moment, but you were more prepared. You dispersed them as they hurled toward you, breathing deeply once they'd all vanished. The gym now felt like a sauna, though the ground was cooler than the ceiling. Moving shakily, you got to your feet. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears as you stood. That hit to the back of the head had left you feeling dizzy. A bright light to your left caught your attention. You whipped your head to the side only to be met with a jet of fire. Fear washed over you as you stumbled backward, falling to the floor once again. Your reflexes failed and left you frozen in place. You shut your eyes tightly, anticipating the overwhelming heat to scorch your skin, but it never came. Slowly, you opened your eyes. The first thing to come into view was Stiller's hand outstretched protectively in front of you. The last of the flames blew against his large shield and dissipated in the air. He looked down at your crumpled form as you panted. His face held a hint of concern.

"Let's take a break for now." He said sternly. "We'll train with the helmet when we continue."

You broke away to let the young employee, who happened to be a nurse, examine you. Once she gave you the green-light, you wandered off to clear your mind. Stiller went easier on you through the rest of training; apparently, he'd felt you'd paid off your speeding ticket. You resumed your training with the ball machines, this time with your helmet on, but the use of the flamethrowers was much more conservative. You found it easier to concentrate after some time alone. After some extra combat training, Stiller dismissed you.

It was only about one o'clock by now, but the rest of the day had been given to you as recreational time. You could, essentially, do whatever you wanted now and, thankfully, the training facility had showers so you wouldn't have to stink to high hell the whole time. Besides your hero suit, you hadn't exactly thought to bring any extra clothes along. After your shower, having no other option, you went ahead and put on your costume. Stiller had graciously gifted you a large (F/C) duffel bag to hold your helmet and dirty clothes in.

Your bag fluttered in the wind as you flew somberly over the city streets. You weren't quite sure what you wanted to do for the day. Maybe trying out a few restaurants, or visiting some of the local parks would help cheer you up. You couldn't say for certain, but you were fairly sure that Stiller would allow you to fly off to explore another prefecture if you were back in a reasonable amount of time. You had to admit, the thought of going on the world's fastest sight-seeing trip did excite you a bit.

The sound of rustling clothes closed in quickly from behind, startling you. You spun around to face the source.

"Hey, Crash!" Keigo greeted. "Fancy meeting you here."

Your temper immediately livened. "I thought you said you'd be too busy!" You exclaimed.

"Nah, I said I'd try. Although, I gotta be honest, this is purely coincidental. I was just on patrol."

"Well, aren't I lucky?" You mused.

"Why the long face before?" He asked.

You slowed down to a stop beside him. "Eh, rough day, I guess."

Despite your less-than-fun tone, he smiled at you. "Ah, well, what'd you have planned for the day?"

"Stiller gave me the day off, but I'm really not sure what to do. I was thinking about just flying around Japan." The idea sounded ludicrous now that you had said it out loud, but Keigo kept up his kind attitude.

"You're going in the suit you wore yesterday?" He questioned, looking you up and down. You rubbed the back of your neck and chuckled awkwardly.

"Well yeah, they didn't exactly give me great 'going-out' clothes."

Keigo rubbed his stubbly chin. "Hey, you know what; why don't we go buy you some new clothes? It might help you feel better!"

"You really think so?"

"Sure. Why else would they call it 'retail therapy?'"

You thought back to Stiller's text. "I dunno. I'm only supposed to use my credit card for emergencies…"

Keigo smirked. "You always do what your overseer tells you?" He teased, raising an eyebrow.

"Pfft, no! And he's not my overseer." You huffed in a grumpy, almost child-like voice. Keigo laughed. "Listen, I'll reimburse 'em for everything if he gets upset about it. C'mon, whaddya say? Just you, me, and a whole fashion show." He was really trying to get you in trouble, wasn't he? You couldn't deny that his mischievous charm was very convincing. You sighed, somehow feeling both defeated and fulfilled.

"Alright. Let's do it."

You returned home alone, leaving Keigo to his 'heroic duties' after your little adventure. It was dark now, but thankfully, the front doors were unlocked. Your joyous smile went from ear to ear as you carried your shopping bags down the dark hall of the HPSC HQ. Though you did pick up a few nice outfits, most of this stuff was completely unnecessary. Hell, you weren't even sure Stiller would let you keep half of it, but imagining the look on his face was priceless. You activated your quirk to open your door as you neared the end of the hall, your hands being too full to use them.

The room was much darker than you anticipated as you stepped inside; you could barely see a thing. You could have sworn it was brighter the night before. Shuffling to the end of your bed, you placed the mass of bags onto the sheets. Today had turned out to be a different day after all. You pulled out your phone, ready to thank Keigo for the outing. The bright screen starkly contrasted the dark room, making you squint. You scrolled through your short list of contacts and located Hawks's. You tapped away at your screen as you typed your message; however, a deep voice from the corner of the room paralyzed you.

"You really should learn to close your windows, little hero."