I've decided to use first names for all the characters that are the same age (class 1A among each other), for convenience reasons.

Maybe Mr. Aizawa isn't a teacher after all. He might just be a homeless man Izuku picked up on his way to school one day, like one would give shelter to a stray kitten. And now he lives in the school building and haunts the hallways like a ghost, grumpy about being a charity case but thankful to Izuku nonetheless, which is why him and Killua are not murdered on the spot when they enter his room at one AM on a weekday.

The circles under Mr. Aizawa's eyes are darker than Kurapika's the last time Killua saw him, and that's saying something. Kurapika looks half dead most of the time, but Mr. Aizawa seems to have escaped the ninth circle of hell roughly three minutes ago. He sits at his desk like he'd rather be anywhere else, a thick blanket thrown over his shoulders - or is that a bedroll? Weird.

Like Izuku, the man doesn't emit any aura whatsoever, but Killua can't help the tension in his body. The longer he stares at Mr. Aizawa, the more prominent the goosebumps on his arms become, prickling along the surface of his skin so intensely Killua has to check if his Hatsu is active. It's not. Killua doesn't know if that's a good or a bad thing.

"I'm sorry for the late disturbance," Izuku says, a few decibels above a whisper. "But, uh," he gestures aimlessly until his eyes settle on Killua, "I have a problem."

Mr. Aizawa takes a breath, as if Izuku storming into his office to dump late-night-problems on his shoulders is commonplace. It might be. Killua can't tell, he's kind of new here.

But before Mr. Aizawa is able to speak, Killua intervenes, miffed about being referred to as a 'problem', no matter what the context is. "Actually, I was just about to leave, but if you could tell me where I am first, that would be wonderful. I also wouldn't turn down some food, if you don't mind. It's been kind of a stressful night."

Mr. Aizawa raises his brows. The movement is barely noticeable beneath the dark fringe. "Tell you where you are?"

Killua shrugs. "Well, yes."

"You don't know where you are?"

"Would I ask if I did, old man?"

Izuku looks about ready to jump Killua and stuff his mouth with a sock.

Mr. Aizawa doesn't even react to the sass, though. Maybe he's used to it. Maybe he is a teacher. "I guess you would not. But you have to understand my confusion. How did you get in here?"

Killua shrugs again. "Honestly, no idea. I woke up in an unfamiliar room and that's all I can tell you."

"I found him in the dormitory hallway," Izuku supplies, which adds nothing of value at all.

Mr. Aizawa nods anyway. "What's your name?"

"Killua."

"Well, Killua, you're at U.A."

"U…. What?"

"U.A." Aizawa stands from his chair and rounds the table. He leans his hips against it, arms crossed, and looks into Killua's eyes like he's able to see what's going through the boy's mind. "The best high school for budding heroes in the country. Haven't you at least heard of it? It's pretty famous."

Killua mirrors Mr. Aizawa's posture and returns the piercing look, which seems to put the man on edge for some reason - he starts fidgeting with the seam of his bedroll. "Can't say I have. What do you even mean by heroes?"

A beat of silence. Mr. Aizawa sighs and lowers his head. He looks ten years older all of a sudden, which puts him under the category of 'very old' on Killua's mental list. "Seems like the problem you picked up might be more extensive than I first thought, Izuku."

"Do you think he lost his memories-"

"My memories are fine," Killua interrupts Izuku, a little more harshly than he intended. "I fell asleep in a hotel room and woke up here. That's all." Now, after uttering the words aloud, he realizes that it does sound like he's lost as significant portion of his memories. Still. Even though he's not sure how, he knows that's not what happened. It doesn't feel as if anything's missing.

Mr. Aizawa rubs his forehead. "Where do you live?"

"I don't live anywhere. Well, I live everywhere."

"Where did you grow up, then?" Mr. Aizawa changes his question, not fazed by Killua's unhelpful answer in the slightest. The man seems to have nerves of steel, is what Killua infers. Definitely a teacher.

"Republic of Padokea."

"Where is that?"

Killua falters. He uncrosses his arms and takes a step back as if Mr. Aizawa slapped him. "You don't know the Republic of Padokea? It's a whole ass country! Wait." Killua holds up a finger, reaches into his pocket, finds his phone - thank god - and opens the Internet. Or, he tries. He grimaces. "Damn."

Izuku moves closer and peers over his shoulder. "What is it?"

"No connection." Weird. His beetle phone should have connection all over the world. It could be broken, but everything else seems to be working fine.

Izuku grins. "You can use mine! Here!"

"Ah - thank you." Killua takes Izuku's phone where a search engine is already open. He's never seen the logo before. Maybe it's one of those really niche engines for people who don't want their data collected. He shakes his head. Who cares? The important thing is being able to teach this grown man some basic geography. Killua types in what he's looking for. He waits, and frowns. The search results come up empty. He tries again. Same result. He checks for typos - nothing. "Are… Are you sure this thing is working?"

Izuku laughs. "Of course. Why?"

"There's no results." Killua's heart starts beating faster. His hands turn clammy and he returns the phone to its owner, anxious about it slipping from his grip. Something's wrong, but he can't put his finger on what exactly that is.

Mr. Aizawa shows Killua the screen of his own phone. It's lurid in the dimly lit room. "I don't get any results either, kid. Are you feeling alright?" He steps closer and lifts a hand, as if he's ready to check Killua's forehead for temperature - or to hit him.

Killua's never too sure about these things, so he recoils. "I - yeah. I feel fine. What country are we in now?"

Mr. Aizawa lowers his hand with knitted brows. "Japan."

"Japan," Killua repeats. "Japan. Fuck."

"It's not that bad," Izuku says.

"Yes - I mean no. You don't get it." Killua backs away until he's able to lean against the closed door. It gives him some much needed stability. "I don't know where that is. I've never even heard of it."

"That's ridiculous," Izuku says, "Japan is a pretty well-known and significant country. Everyone would know-"

"So you see how this is weird, right?" Killua asks. His voice is trembling. "You don't know my country and I don't know yours. That's weird." He pauses. "Actually, it's more than weird. It's straight up concerning."

Mr. Aizawa walks back to his chair and falls into it. Silence hangs over the room. It's heavy. Killua hears his own heartbeat, and the rustling of leaves outside through the tilted window. His thoughts are going too fast for him to analyze.

After a while, Mr. Aizawa speaks up. "I have a theory, but I fear you won't like it much."

"There's not much left in this world that would be able to shock me," Killua says. He means it.

"A few leading scientists are looking into the existence of life on different planets. They're making rapid progress, and travel across these planets would be possible with certain quirks, I reckon."

"Quirks? What are those?" Killua's past the point of caring how clueless he seems. He is clueless, that's all he's been since he woke up in that room a few minutes ago. Mr. Aizawa's words make his ears ring and his vision swim. Were his back not pressed against a wall, he would fall over, knees as jittery and soft as jello. A different planet? Surely there's another explanation. Surely. That's ridiculous. How would he have ended up on a different planet? A Nen ability? How would he even get back -

"Since you don't even know about quirks, I truly think we might be onto something. A different planet would have different countries, and maybe there would be no quirks."

"What are quirks?" Killua asks, voice husky. He's getting louder and louder, too. It's difficult to keep quiet when presented with the possibility of being on another fucking planet. "Can you start explaining?"

"Quirks are special abilities a person can have."

"So, like Nen."

Mr. Aizawa shrugs. "I wouldn't know. What is Nen?"

"A special ability a person can develop, which is why I said the two sound familiar," he quips, but there's no real humor in it. He's speaking a little too fast now, choppy and clipped, as if time is running out. "Judging from what you said earlier, it could have been either a quirk or a Nen ability that brought me here. So effectively, I'd need to find the person with that ability to be able to go back home. And I want to go back home - I have to." He has to take care of Alluka, who's spending a few days in Leorio's care. He has to go back and meet up with Gon like they'd promised. He has to do so much. So, so much.

"That seems to be the gist of it, yes. But as of now, it's just a theory. I'll have to talk to some people who know more about the subject to be sure."

Killua nods robotic. He's cold.

"For now, get some sleep," Mr. Aizawa says, leaning back in the squeaking leather chair, directing his eyes to the ceiling as if the answer is written on it. "I'm sure you're exhausted."

"Do you really think I'll be able to sleep right now? Are you mad?"

"Try," Mr. Aizawa says dryly. "You can't stand here until morning, you'll collapse."

Killua glares at him, but Izuku tugs the hem of his shirt. "Come. I'll bring you back to the dormitories."

"I could stand here for three consecutive days without wavering, old man," Killua says while Izuku maneuvers him out the door.

"That's nice. Sleep well."

Mr. Aizawa doesn't believe him. Killua kind of wants to stay in front of his door just to prove him wrong, but his eyelids do feel heavy and the thought of a soft mattress does sound nice. He doubts he'll be able to sleep, but he can at least close his eyes for a while and sort through his thoughts. Because there are a lot of thoughts to sort through.

He follows Izuku quietly, barely conscious of where they're going. The boy doesn't let go of his shirt once, which is kind of annoying, but it also makes him feel warm inside. It feels as if those two fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt are the only thing keeping him on the ground. His body would drift away if it weren't for Izuku's bony fingers.

"It'll be alright," Izuku mutters. "Mr. Aizawa will find a solution. And I'll help you."

"I'll help myself," Killua disagrees. "I need to go back."

"I'll help you." It sounds firmer this time, almost like an irrefutable truth. An order is hidden in it, an order not to object.

"Sure."

Izuku smiles. If one word is enough to placate him, he'll be easy to deal with. Killua can give him as many 'okay's and 'sure's as he needs. But he won't sit still and wait for a solution to present itself. He'll get back to Alluka as fast as possible, and by his own strength.

Killua hangs onto one single fact like a lifeline: If something or someone was able to teleport him here, that same thing will be able to teleport him back. It has to.

As they enter the dormitories, Izuku's steps slow down. He looks around, lost. "So, um. Which room did you wake up in?"

Killua points forward. "That one over there."

Izuku's mouth opens and closes a few times. "Are you… sure?"

"Absolutely sure. I wouldn't misremember something like that. Why?"

"That - that room belongs to a classmate."

"Huh. It was empty. Well, apart from me, obviously- Woah!"

Killua is pulled along when Izuku suddenly rushes forward. He skids to a halt in front of the room and throws open the door. The inside is the way Killua left it; the same mess on the desk, an empty bed, posters on the wall - and no trace of a classmate.

"Oh my god," Izuku whispers. "Oh my god. We have to go back to Mr. Aizawa right now."

"Why? He just sent us away."

Izuku turns to him, a wild look in his eyes. "Minoru is gone. I think you might have traded places with him."