As an apology for the wait, have another chapter! Hope y'all enjoy!

Bakugou had decided to ask Deku if he knew where Yoshiko lived. The damn nerd was known to have practically stalker-level notes on everybody, so really the nerd was probably his best bet outside of going to the fuckers in the administration. Normally he would go to her friends or some shit, but she didn't really have any, courtesy of him two or three years prior. It felt like everything he had done was kicking him in the ass in every way possible. And it made him really want to punch himself in the face.

Of course, if Deku didn't actually know, Bakugou would have to go to the administration anyway, and even then there was no guarantee that they would give him her address. Privacy laws did exist after all.

But then again, those fuckers didn't seem to care much about the rules and laws preventing them from sharing information with strangers in the previous loops, at least according to Eraserhead. Which wasn't out of character for them, considering that Bakugou knew they had the habit of letting dozens of rules slide in his favor, so there was a chance.

His own clean record could attest to that.

Either way, he was going to ask Deku first in hopes of not having to go to those slimy fuckers at all. So he did.

"Do you know where Yoshiko lives?"

This startled the dull, yet blinding smile off of Deku's face, leaving him blinking in surprise, "Y-yeah I do, b-b-but wh-why do y-you want to kn-know?"

Ah shit, the nerd thought he was trying to target her again or something. Of course he would try to figure out whether he had to protect her from him or not.

"Her fucking dad slammed into me on my way to school the other day and pissed me the hell off. But he dropped something and I was gonna make her take it back to him because I don't want to see his shitty face. Tch, but she wasn't here today so I gotta do it myself. Typical," he really hoped he sounded in character, because he was pulling this shit out of his ass and pretending like he knew what he was doing.

How sad was it that he didn't know how to act like himself?

Deku tilted his head in a way that made Bakugou's heart clench painfully, "I-if you want, I-I-I c-could, I could take it there f-for y-you…?"

Well, that backfired nicely. So much for trying to be clever. The nerd really didn't trust him at all, damn. It kind of pissed him off. But really, what else should he have expected from him?

"How about you just take me there, shitty Deku," Bakugou winced internally. His chest felt like it was in a trash compactor, every breath was like rubbing his lungs against a cheese grater.

What the hell was up with him? Whatever it was, it was clearly getting worse.

"O-okay?" he stuttered, his eyes a bit more unfocused than they had been just a minute prior.

It was too late to regret anything, so he barked out, "Let's go!" as he stood up.

He pulled Deku up with him, revealing the damning red lines. They were still dripping with blood, running down his arm. He hadn't even bothered to wrap them, instead letting them stick painfully to his white sleeves under the gakuran. The exposed red stain was obvious and sickening.

The sight made Bakugou want to throw up, made his head spin dangerously. But he had an objective and he would complete it, dammit! He knew the nerd would probably do shit like this again, he shouldn't have been caught off guard again! But fucking hell, was it just him or was it getting worse?

So he tried to avoid looking into Deku's dull eyes or at his bloodied sleeve as he dragged him down the stairs, shutting the door and deliberately locking it behind them. Bakugou refused to look back at his sfriend/s classmate until they made their way out of the fucking useless school and they were out on the streets.

He let go of his grip, only just realizing how tightly he had held onto Deku. Bakugou fought against a blush as he awkwardly motioned for Deku to take the lead. At this seemingly insignificant gesture, some of the light in his eyes returned, if only for a moment. After all, it was quickly replaced with an anxious sort of expression that is almost as characteristic to Deku as yelling was to Bakugou.

Though Bakugou wasn't sure what Deku could have possibly been nervous about. Skipping school? Getting led into a trap and beaten up? Who the fuck did he think Bakugou was? He certainly wasn't a tricky fucker, everything he did was upfront and expected. He was the straightforward kind of guy, and he refused to take anyone's shit and never hesitated to give shit right back.

But that's when he realized it.

For the first time in their years of knowing each other, Bakugou didn't speak a word at the nerd walking in front of him, leading the way.

The realization almost knocked the breath out of him, but he had to keep a clear head, so he ignored his knee-jerk reactions.

Deku didn't seem to notice, as he was too busy anxiously muttering about who knew what. It was all muffled and slurred together, his anxiety turning what could normally be deciphered into something indiscernible. Not, that Bakugou usually tried to decipher the nerd's surprisingly insightful observations, nope.

Not at all. Never.

They must have been an odd sight, Bakugou mused as they made their way through the busier section of Musutafu. He trailed not far behind the nervous idiot in front of him, but a small hint of tightness lingered in his chest.

He didn't know if it was from how Deku seemed to move on as though nothing had happened, as though he hadn't just been dropped off the side of a building, or if it was from lingering doubts about the plan that had gone to shit almost immediately despite their careful planning in the prior loop.

Bakugou remained deep in his thoughts as they walked through lunch crowds and busy people who gave them odd stares. Kids skipping school wasn't necessarily a rare thing, but that didn't mean it wasn't highly frowned upon.

But even so, that didn't matter to Bakugou, and Deku seemed reluctantly resigned to it, if the slight sag of his shoulders every time someone shot them a glare was any indication.

Aizawa wheezed as he tried to regain his bearings after… after… whatever the fuck that was. The room felt like it was spinning around him and his head felt heavy like lead. Reluctantly, after a few minutes of little improvement, he forced himself to sit upright in his bed.

Then the nausea hit all at once. He threw the covers off and sprinted to the bathroom. The normally stable flooring felt as though it was oscillating underneath his feet, making him both more dizzy and extremely off-balanced. It took all of the focus and experience he had just to make it in time to dry-heave into the toilet bowl.

After some of the most uncomfortable few minutes of his life, Aizawa scooted around the toilet so he could lean back against the wall. He shut his eyes, focusing on how the tears that pricked at them actually felt really nice against his dry eyes as well as how the floor and walls were solid and definitely not moving. He reluctantly re-opened his eyes once he centered his sense of balance and control.

Quickly, he ran through grounding techniques—listing things in his head that he could identify with each of his senses until he became completely certain of himself, his current time, and current place in which he was located.

Maybe he should have listened to Bakugou's advice, because damn whatever the fuck that was had been hellish beyond almost anything he could imagine. Plus, he didn't feel rested in the slightest because a loop didn't reset brain fatigue. He could see how this would easily grate at his focus and control, slowly wearing down his patience to the point where he wouldn't be able to think rationally at all.

Honestly, it was a miracle that Bakugou hadn't gone insane yet. And that realization kept his heart beating a bit faster than it should have been.

If mental fatigue was compounding, that meant that they had a time limit—a soft deadline of sorts—before it became too late for them to be able to focus on finding a solution. Once they hit that point, their efficiency would decrease exponentially while their mental strain continually suffered a heavier burden. Then they would take even longer to find out how to break the loops, which wasn't good news in the slightest.

And it wasn't just because it felt like a waste of time (logically it wasn't a waste, no time was being spent after all). He couldn't help but consider the emotional aspect of the loops, the wear and tear at their emotional capacity as well as the constant off-balance of the emotional equilibrium would be enough to break them in the right circumstances. And the longer they took, the greater the risk grew.

It would probably be wise for them to take a day of rest, possibly more, as a pre-emptive measure against such frustrations. They really couldn't afford to risk their mental health and sanity being ruined. Because even if they stopped the looping, being mentally broken was no victory.

Desperate yowling interrupted his panicked thoughts.

Right, those little shits are stuck in the cabinet again.

With a groan, he forced himself back on his feet and went to go let the idiotic bastards out. Again. The monotony of repetition was just one more thing that was draining his patience.

Oh how he hated emotions, always so illogical and always in the way. But they were a part of life as much as he hated it. He hated feeling, getting attached, but he had no choice and if he tried to stop now it would end in disaster.

The cats purred at him as he opened the cabinet door, but when he went to pet them, one of the fuckers clawed his leg. He glared at Aizawa as though to berate him for taking so long to let them out.

Well it was the bastard's own fault for getting stuck in a cupboard in the first place, so he felt righteous annoyance and instead pet the cat's belly.

He stood up and blinked, finally remembering that he had something important to do.

The hero quickly fed the cats, changed back into his hero outfit, and grabbed his capture weapon. He all but sprinted from his apartment, ignoring the lingering panic and fear that settled in his gut.

He had work to do.

Midoriya really didn't know what to make of Kacchan.

He thought after years of knowing him and studying him, he would be able to understand his… classmate. But no, Kacchan's thought-process was just that elusive and unpredictable. Sure, he knew all his habits and all of his favourite foods, but that didn't help when Kacchan just went and broke almost every rule that Deku lived by.

See, although he had never written it down (he didn't want to get Kacchan in trouble, although he doubted anyone would care he still didn't want to risk it), he had practically memorized a laundry list of rules that functioned more as a choose-your-own adventure book.

Dozens upon dozens of "if this happens then do one of these things and expect any of these things" and for each specific occurrence, there was a predictable outcome. It was tiring, but he liked to think of it as mental training!

Of course, there were the days where he deliberately chose the wrong options. He couldn't really explain why if someone were to ask. (Not, that anyone would ever ask him anything.)

He was just, really tired on those days.

And today was one of those days, except this was worse than any day like this. It almost felt like he wasn't really there at all, everything felt fuzzy and dull even though he had the same clarity and perception as always.

The best way he could describe this feeling would be the weird not-feeling that accompanied some of the worst burns he had received from Kacchan.

Maybe he chose the wrong choices just to find something to compare this feeling to.

Or not.

He didn't really know anymore.

So when Kacchan tried to ask him a question, he was terrified for a moment. Deku—like the useless idiot he was—thought that Kacchan had noticed how he had been feeling and was going to ask him a question he wouldn't, no, couldn't answer.

But then his logic kicked in and the weird bubbling feeling dissipated. Of course Kacchan wouldn't ask about that. He probably had noticed, he was Kacchan after all, but he wasn't one to care.

Not, that Deku could blame him. He had more important things to worry about.

But still, Kacchan was asking him something! He almost never cared about what Deku had to say, so he would obviously answer whatever the question. Because there was no way that he would be asking a question that Deku didn't have an answer to, his blonde classmate wasn't dumb after all.

But then when it slipped out, he froze.

Of course he remembered exactly what had happened between him and Yoshiko, how could he forget?

Which is what made the question so concerning to him.

Deku didn't want anyone else to get hurt, and Kacchan's excuse was obviously a lie (that was one thing that he could firmly say Kacchan absolutely sucked at).

But he had agreed, so that left him no choice but to roll with the bizarre situation.

Kacchan wasn't following any of the rules, so perhaps Deku could break a few of them as well.

Who was he kidding? He couldn't afford to break any rules, especially since he was punished even when following them.

As he led the way, Kacchan in tow, he wondered why the entire day just felt so, so wrong.

But that didn't matter, he supposed.

It was just one day among many.