There couldn't be a god; not a benevolent one, anyway.

If there was, Shota Aizawa would have been seated in Minoru Mineta's living room when her smiling face filled the television screen, glowing brighter than a solar flare when the world's symbol of peace told her that he loved her, too.

The Minetas continued to question both the new dorms and All Might over his budding relationship, confused when neither instructor provided comment.
It was Class 1-A's most morally-askew student who thawed first, baubles catching the light with the slow movement of his head, attention falling on only one man.

"How could you?" Minoru said softly.

The Minetas reacted in utmost embarrassment to their son's accusation- the perfect easy-out for the UA instructors who still hadn't spoken since the television's update. Minoru watched them go even as his mother smacked the bouncing grapes of his head, eyes never leaving the blonde skeleton escaping through his front door.

It couldn't be true.
The fear of her actually having feelings for Toshinori Yagi had only been mild, at best- that particular nightmare wasn't what consumed his sleep like a death plague.

No, his terror had been born the day she'd saved Katsuki Bakugo's life.
When he'd pulled her pale, motionless body from the green, infected depths, life bleeding out of her stomach, the blue curve of her lips. When Chiyo Tsutomi had received her first taste of both victory and its high cost and still proceeded to pursue heroism.

His heart withered like desiccated fruit upon seeing her standing before an emaciated All Might, edges honed for combat like some caged dragon finally released on the world. With every step she took down this path her shadow grew longer; soon it would hold a hundred times the threats she'd originally feared.

She'd asked him what he was so afraid of.
He was afraid for her.
Because despite his great facade of indifference, he loved her to the point where his chest felt ready to collapse from the great weight of it; the idea that now- now- her face was one known to every hero, civilian, and villain in Japan, let alone Tokyo, terrified him beyond all measure.

What if he couldn't keep her safe? What if he failed, again, to protect her? How much of her would be taken away?
He had been so consumed with the notion of new threats, he'd forgotten entirely of the one nipping at her heels from the very beginning.

"Aizawa-"
He'd be so easy to take down, now. No amount of past experience would save him from the violent rage guiding fist to bone until every muscle fatigued itself, until Aizawa ran out of steam and his opponent lay a bloodied, broken mess.

Until Toshinori Yagi was nothing more than a bothersome memory, as opposed to the object of Chiyo Tsutomi's affection.

"Those clips- they weren't exactly constructed in-"
"You love her." Aizawa cut in simply. His face looked no different than it always did, eyes half-lidded. Tired, as if he hadn't slept since the Hideout Raid.
A blonde scarecrow tensed. Its pole straightened, ready to frighten away its attacker.
"Yes," Toshinori answered.

The way her breath caught when he had subtly insinuated she and All Might may be in more than a falsified relationship. Her voice had been the softest shade of hurt; so fragile, he'd almost come completely clean, admitted his fault and hidden fears of failing, of losing her.
Of allowing another piece of her to be taken and watch its loss slowly eat away at her.

"And she told you she loved you, too."
"Not in- Not like-"
"Did she say she loved you or not?"

The way Toshinori Yagi looked at him, he didn't need a verbal response- he had his answer.


Her clothes were still in his closet.
The scent of her haunted his pillows, the space between the bathroom and their bedroom, lingered in his senses like a quickly fading daydream; if he inhaled too deeply the notes were lost, no matter how he tried to catch them again.
When he returned from the car, having found no such trash bags, she was gone. He blinked, waited, as if caught in horrible, lucid dream, waiting for the shape of her to return.
It didn't.

The next day, a killer rang his doorbell.
Instead of wrapping his weaponized scarf around his neck like a coiled viper, Aizawa answered in the same clothes she'd left him in, hair unkempt, head tilted to stare vacantly at the severe face of a professional fish.

Mammal, he'd reminded her.

"Eraser Head," Gang Orca looked bizarre in street clothes, awkward enough already with the attempt at a casual head nod, easily peering into the apartment over Aizawa's head. "I was hoping to speak with Chiyo, if she's around?"

She'd never even returned for her toothbrush.
"She's not." Aizawa answered flatly.
Gang Orca shifted uncomfortably. "Might I inquire when you expect her to return?"
A flick of electricity ripped down his spine like a lightning rod.

Would she come back?
He'd expected her to deny the claim. If it was a media distortion- if there was a fiber of untruth- he would listen, believe whatever she told him.
Instead Chiyo had let the shower drown out her side of the conversation in lieu of words, of any sort of denial.
And that, more than anything, had struck him down the fiercest.

"I don't know," Aizawa answered more honestly that either man expected. Gang Orca's eyes didn't seem capable of widening but looked alarmed all the same, swiveling down in their red pools to connect with Aizawa's.

"I'm sorry. Please, excuse my intrusion. And-" He hesitated. Aizawa gave a slow blink, as if not particularly interested in whether he continued speaking or not. Sakamata's black fin nearly grazed the door frame when he turned back around to face him.

"If I caused any sort of strife in your relationship, please know I never intended to. I never-" He sighed. "I should've realized what was going on much earlier than I did."

Had he known? Red panic riddled Aizawa's bones even as he let Gang Orca walk away, left with the latest development of...what, exactly? Betrayal? Even with things the way they were, Aizawa still couldn't believe Chiyo would've acted unfaithfully; when would she have even been able to?

That's terrible reasoning, he admonished himself.
It didn't stop him from sulking around the rest of the day with his one ashen witness, who seemed just as wilted ever since half their family left, too.

On the fifth day, he went searching.
She hadn't taken anything but Nasu; surely she'd be in need of a change of clothing, shampoo, something. And as the possessor of all her worldly items, it wouldn't be strange for him to call upon her, settle the nauseous mixture of his stomach by finally seeing her face again, make sure she was okay.

It would be a lot easier, he realized, to talk about his fears more if he simply loved her less.

Should he apologize first, explain his behavior? Or did he ask her again about Toshinori, allowing her a second chance to explain herself? Hadn't the great blonde fool been trying to explain something about the situation before he'd stalked off mid-conversation?
He was still angry; as angry as she had been before, when he'd pierced her armor with malicious, unnecessarily cruel words.

But he was tired of being angry. He was tired of living with her at arm's length rather than close enough to feel her breathe at night. Whatever this was, he just wanted to work past it.
Because at the end of the day, he still loved her. And he knew she loved him.

Aizawa took a moment to collect himself. He entered the dormitories, recalled the route of the tour to the back rooms set aside for the live-in attendants.
Nothing but the crisp smell of new paint and empty space greeted him.

"Miss Tsutomi? Ah, I'm sorry Mr. Aizawa, I haven't spoken to her since school let out. I did see I had a missed call from her a few days ago, but she hadn't left a voicemail. If there's anything I can do to help, please let me know."

Kayama and Nemuri also hadn't heard from Chiyo in the weeks following her return from the Paradox, but that wasn't overly surprising; the two had their own plates full with their side jobs and preparing for the next school semester.

Manami Seto didn't seem keen on speaking to him, but did admit she had seen Chiyo- if only briefly- five days earlier.
So, having been turned down by her best friend and unable to gain access to the dorms, where had Chiyo Tsutomi disappeared to?
Aizawa had a hunch- one that tasted like expired milk and left his stomach just as ripe.

-Meet me outside The Nook in fifteen minutes.

Back-up seemed both petty and a necessity; witch hunting solo might prove a dangerous game, especially if more than one really did lurk in a certain person's apartment.
Manami didn't speak upon entering Aizawa's car. He welcomed the silence; their usual topic of choice had cut the seams between them, leaving seldom subjects of shared interest. It was alarming enough to have such a similar figure to Chiyo's as a passenger, legs drawn up into the seat just as she always did.

The vibrancy of her hair differentiated the two, though Manami tucked it just as Chiyo when nervous. "Do you...really think they- That Chiyo and Toshinori-"
"I don't know." He said. His definitive answer of no would have been a reality, if only Chiyo had denied the claim during their last encounter.

But she hadn't.

"So what's- um, what's the plan, here?"
"Chiyo said she was staying in the UA dorms," He said. "She's not. If she isn't staying with you and hasn't come ho- come back, there's a chance she's staying with Toshinori."

Manami's bottom lip disappeared into her mouth. She tensed only the slightest when he looked over, prompted to share her thoughts.
"If you were just concerned over Chiyo's well-being, you would've texted her, or Toshinori, to find out if she's there. But you didn't," She processed slowly- for her own sake or his, Aizawa wasn't sure. "You chose to go in person. And bring me." Manami's slid to him carefully. "Are you looking for a fight, or answers? Am I supposed to be the barrier between?"

Truth be told, Manami Seto felt she knew Shota Aizawa better than most of the people in his life. Sure, their conversations could be counted on one hand- half of which involving other people- but over the course of a season, she had watched the blooming of a relationship between him- this tall, quiet man, who hid wells of emotion behind carefully-laid comments and dry cynicism- and her best friend- the woman who over-analyzed each and every one of those comments, on her own or with a cellphone glued to her ear so they could dissect them together, until Chiyo had picked apart that protective shell, collected the pearly insides like a cleanly-shucked oyster and shared them with her to admire.
Shota Aizawa was the one Manami believed in, after all, when everything with Hannei Tsutomi had gone awry. He was also the one Chiyo blushed over, talked about like a never-ending epic of sap and valentines, fought to impress the most.

Manami had known very little of the erasure hero before Chiyo returned to her life. Even then, his image was only drawn together by her friend's stories and descriptions, creating a man quite different from the one the media portrayed.
She'd feared Chiyo had built Aizawa into something of a daydream- a rose-colored man, unable to see the red flags of indifference through her tinted vision. His persona certainly didn't seem to match the one Chiyo described; what if the entire relationship was a one-sided facade?

Every preconceived notion dissipated when Manami first saw him in person, upon Chiyo's abduction. Even quiet, face like granite, the gnawing distraught in his eyes had displayed to her exactly how much Shota Aizawa cared for her lost friend.

Manami thought her anger was built on betrayal, jealousy. Maybe it was.
But not for the relationship she'd originally assumed.

Regardless of the Aizawa she knew lived inside his standoffish behavior, Manami wasn't particularly offended by the distant way he treated her; the man she secretly knew him to be wasn't hers to experience.
She watched him now, sitting idle in the parking lot of Toshinori Yagi's apartment complex, completely still of movement, staring blankly out the windshield.

Aizawa took a slow breath.
"What if she's in there?"
"Then we ask them. Both of them." Her brow furrowed in determination before a prick of nerves worried her features. "And if it's a misunderstanding?"

Movement loosened the tension in his shoulders. For a moment she thought he was going to lean his head against the steering wheel- a sight Chiyo probably would've laughed at and teased him over. Instead Aizawa simply looked at her with the same eyes as before, the first day they met.

"Then I believe her and ask her to come home."
It had to be a misunderstanding.
"And if she's not there?"
"I don't know."
Manami didn't know which scenario would be worse.

As it turned out, no one seemed to be home at all.
Should they wait? Did people still leave notes?

Toshinori had only sent one text message since the news broke- one that hadn't exactly filled her with encouragement; I'm sorry.
Sorry for what, Manami hadn't asked. She still wasn't sure she wanted to know.

Before she could suggest trying later, or tomorrow (or never again and moving to the Arctic), a familiar head of sunshine rose from the stairs, eyes watching the ground as if the cement might suddenly betray him and disappear.
Toshinori Yagi didn't take notice until he nearly stood on the doorstep beside his two guests, looking up at last with only mild surprise.

Did that mean she really was here?

"Aizawa. Manami," Toshinori seemed more taken aback that they were here together than anything else. "It's...Good to see you."

If Chiyo were here, she'd probably make some awkward pun to dispel the thick-as-fog tension filling the space between each individual. Manami took notice of the rigid spine beside her, pale skin pulled tight over the bones of his cheeks. Standing on the side of the jagged scar, Aizawa looked frightening enough to match the student testimonies Chiyo so flippantly waved off as over-exaggerated.

"All Might," Manami finally greeted. He winced at her formality. She didn't let it get to her- not physically, anyway. "We're looking for Chiyo. Is she...Has she been staying with you?"

Knowing who he was officially, as the whole world now knew him, Manami felt comfortable in comparing Toshinori to All Might; the overstated hair, the distortment of chiseled features to bone-sharp edges, how his clothes hung rather than rippled from his body. It was still surprising Chiyo had never made the connection.

The same eyes that had shone through countless posters and phone wallpapers stared at her now, in a context she'd never once imagined would happen.
"She isn't staying with me."
Something in his answer left much to be desired. "But you've seen her?" Manami prompted. This time, his gaze only gave her heart a mild jolt.
"I saw her three days ago."
"Where's she been staying? Is she okay? What did she say?"

"She apologized for getting me wrapped up in what she claimed was her own "mess". I told her this wasn't her fault, but she didn't come here to listen." He stared at the wall as if wanting to punch it but knowing he didn't have enough strength left to even make a dent. "She told me to watch channel nine this Friday. That she was going to fix everything. And that after, she was going to leave."

"Leave where?" It was the first time Aizawa has spoken since the car. He didn't look away from Toshinori, even when fox eyes jumped to his face.

What did he mean she was going to leave?

"She wouldn't tell me. She said I would invariably tell you, and then you'd try and find her." Toshinori watched Aizawa with the same leveled gaze. It was the first time Manami couldn't read his usually-pleasant face as easily as a book from her store.

"Whatever happened between you two awakened some sense of realization in her. Chiyo said she had to leave for a while. Because she-" Toshinori hesitated, voice taking on a certain gentleness. "She said she can't expect to love herself if she doesn't even know who she is anymore."

Which, truth be told, was actually an interpretation of what she'd actually said, standing on his doorstep in the same clothes he'd last seen her in, face creased with fading make-up and a watery smile on her lips.
But with the way Shota Aizawa was staring at him, Toshinori decided repeating Chiyo Tsutomi verbatim would do nothing to aid this situation.

And as long as I feel like this, I'll only hurt him.

"It's-" Manami trailed off. "You- Today is Friday. Did she say what time? Isn't that just a basic broadcasting channel?"

Toshinori glanced at his wrist like the old man he was. Who still wore watches these days?
"Actually, we're pretty close to five. What a fateful visiting hour. You're welcome to come inside and watch, if you don't mind my housekeeping- Oh!" Toshinori's eyes seemed to almost glow, earnest in their severity. "In the chance that you spoke to me again, Chiyo told me to remind you of the Chi...Chinami? The Chinami Ruling Number Three. I...don't know what that means, but assume you do."

There was a ringing in Manami's ears.
Soft at first, like the beginning chords of a tuning orchestra, growing louder, frantic, as memories of knobby knees and shared pacts between two ten year-old girls arose from a dusty corner of her mind.

"Always tell the truth, no matter the cost."
She could almost see her, cheeks like peaches, eyes warm despite their cool color.
"In the instance of only one collectible book, CD, or popsicle, we will share the item equally."
Chiyo had always been the reserved one; rules came to her like daring ideas did to others their age.
But it was her, Manami, who had finalized the trifold of Chinami Rulings with rule number three, just as they had entered middle school.
The friendship between sisters shall never be broken by man, beast, or All Might himself.

There were hands on her face.
Each finger felt calloused, still carrying the aftermath of his career. Heroic form or not, Manami still had to tilt her head all the way back to see the worried face towering above, bright, sunken eyes caught between hers and the watermarks gliding down her skin at her own foolishness.

"You- She didn't-"
"Of course not," Toshinori said softly.

"This just in: Newcomer to the hero scene, Chiyonex, has issued an impromptu address to the public."
Toshinori's concern over housekeeping proved understandable; clothes rested in mountains about the place along with messy files and notebooks brimming with frayed pages, and a strange, stale smell wafted from the kitchen. Instant Ramen, Manami realized.
No one took particular notice of their surroundings once Toshinori clicked on the TV, eyes glued to a reporter standing in a crowded room, an empty stage set up in the distance behind him.
"Chiyonex made a dynamic splash just weeks ago when she appeared to protect a weathered All Might during the chaotic battle against one of Japan's most lethal villains. In the days leading up to today's press conference, news stories have speculated over Chiyonex's more-than-just-acquaintances relationship with the world's most sought-after bachelor. The dark-haired heroine has been seen strolling with him through Musutafu Park recently-"

"What is she doing?" Where was she? Where was this recorded? Manami clenched Toshinori's arm so tightly her fingers and thumb greeted one another. "Toshinori, what is she doing?"

"I don't-"
"Good evening."
The wildness of her hair had been muted, sleeked into a long, liquid tail at the crown of her head and pulled over one shoulder. Aizawa was both surprised and relieved to see her in an unfamiliar dress of navy, sleeveless but modest. The color made her eyes seem built of the summer sky.

But where fierceness once lived in her features, those wide eyes, there was only a calm vulnerability.

"Over the course of the last two weeks, I have experienced a life of admiration and gratitude, but also a life without privacy. I cannot blame the media for every fault in my life, but the incessancy of their behavior, from following me through my everyday life to purposefully misconstruing events in order to better their profits, has seemingly done more harm than good."

Chiyo paused. It was slight, but all three caught the tensing of her right arm, itching to raise and brush back her hair.

"Growing up, I saw and idolized the glamour of heroism; now, after losing everything I hold most dear to my heart, I realize I am not constructed for this type of life. And so, under the Hero Protection Act, Article 172, I hereby relinquish my namesake and likened image from all media outlets-"

"What does that mean?"
Neither man answered her question. Manami slapped her hands together until a dark head startled. Aizawa didn't look away from the screen, where Chiyo Tsutomi continued to explain her reasoning. His mouth opened, closed again. Took a breath.
"It means Chiyo will no longer be a public hero. She can't be harassed by reporters and the like, but...It means she can't profit from any sort of media, either. No interviews, features, that sort of thing. Even if a company were to make action figures of her, she won't be given any sort of gratuity."

He lost sight of her eyes when they shied away from the camera; a roomful of lights also took notice, striking their last opportunity. The backdrop gave no hints to where they were. "She's exchanging a profitable career for her returned privacy."

"An underground hero," Toshinori murmured.

"This does not mean I'm giving up my licensure- just the opposite. I will continue to fight, to pursue the path towards peace and equality in our world. I will not give up on those I have vowed to protect." A flash of fire returned to her eyes. "If you feel alone, know that you are not. If you feel lost, know that there are those out there who want to help you. And if you feel afraid, remember that bravery is built through recognizing those fears and defying them regardless."

The woman on the screen didn't smile at the sudden applause or blush from the attention as she might've at home. Instead her spine grew taller.

"To conclude, I am formally announcing my removal from all public media, though my journey as Chiyonex is far from finished. I would like to end this press conference with a redaction from Musutafu Daily. Recently, an edited clip was released by their channel. In exchange for not filing a lawsuit, they have agreed to release the original, unedited segments. Thank you."

The clip rolled and Chiyo appeared, looking like she was grinning at an upset five year-old who'd dropped his ice cream. Mouth slow, trying to suppress her laughter, relief wrinkling her eyes.
"I...I love you, too."
All Might's bony body withered with a sigh. Her head turned with that same teasing grin, ponytail flopping to the side.
"Sorry! Sorry? I don't mean that in, you know, that way, just, as- like you said before- Not in love, just-"

The clip continued for a few seconds more, to give the moment context. Chiyo called for aid. Toshinori left with a swat team.

And then the timestamp of her stardust smile appeared.
To the average viewer, what Chiyo Tsutomi had set her gaze on was unclear; there was simply a crowd of medics and civilians, dressed in everything from uniforms to day clothes.
The shaggy-haired man in a suit, thus, hardly garnered a second glance.

The moment of All Might expressing his love for Chiyo hadn't been the cleaver to Aizawa's heart; it'd been the way she'd reacted.
The smile that had always belonged to him.
The one she was wearing on screen, looking only at him.

"Shit," Shota Aizawa breathed in the present. It was the most poignant statement Manami Seto had heard in a long, long time.

No amount of badgering could draw out Chiyo's location; no one knew where she'd gone. Principal Nezu gave only the slightest assistance, admitting he had granted her a sabbatical leave until she felt comfortable enough to return.

Manami Seto returned to her bookstore, a well-worn letter of rules and a red poppy pinned to the door.
Shota Aizawa returned to his home, where a set of baleful green eyes greeted him at the door, a unique candy bar tied by a ribbon to his collar.
Toshinori Yagi returned to soak in the tub, reflecting on his friend's final choice of words, knowing he would not be seeing her for quite some time.

"I have to go. I've...There's something broken in me, Toshinori. I thought training with Sakamata would fix or help me get over it, but there are different types of strength; the kind I need can't be found in a combat arena.
"I feel undeserving of the love I've been given, and as long as I feel like this, I'll only hurt those who've given me a reason to feel anything at all. I can't love anyone if I don't even love myself."

She'd smiled. Not the smile performed for cameras, or the golden-lighted one reserved for the singular person she was in love with, but one of weary kindness, like a teacher on the final days of the school year.

"This isn't a good-bye, it's a See-You-After. Take care of Shota and Manami for me. And when I come back, I'll expect you to have gained twenty pounds. Minimum."

Wherever she was, Manami hoped to see her again and restore the bond between them.
Whatever the obstacle, Shota hoped to glean her tracks until they led him to his missing ribs.
Whomever she sought, Toshinori hoped she would find what she was looking for and return not as the woman they'd known, but as the woman Chiyo Tsutomi intended to become.