Some time ago...

"Y-you... you want my quirk?"

All For One glanced at the file Kurogiri had prepared for him.

MUSUBU TENCHI

DOB: 26 JULY 20XX

SEX: M

HEIGHT: 5'9

QUIRK: INSEPARABLE INTERDIMENSIONALS; TELEPORTS TWO IMMENSELY POWERFUL PEOPLE FROM ANY DIMENSION INTO ONE'S OWN. BOTH ARRIVE WITH VARYING DEGREES OF AMNESIA FROM DIMENSIONAL TRAVEL, BUT REGAIN ALL MEMORIES UPON MEETING EACH OTHER.

Not much else worth commenting on, it seemed. Other than, of course, his quirk.

"Yes," All For One answered from behind his mask. "I believe it would give our end a great advantage."

The young man stood, trembling only a few feet away from the Symbol of Evil. Forcing himself to swallow the lump in his throat, he said, "I don't know what you're up to, but... you don't want my quirk."

"Hm?" he rested his head in his hand, leaning against the armchair. "Why is that, Musubu?"

"T-to be honest," he stammered, staring at the ground, "I've only ever used it twice in my life. The last time was... two years ago."

"Perhaps you haven't found the proper situation for it, yet."

He shook his head. "There's no proper situation for it." Letting out a short laugh, he continued, "Every time I've done it, it's brought nothing good."

"I see," All For One acknowledged. In a slight motion, he motioned for the man to sit on the floor, which immediately prompted a wide-eyed look of confusion. "Tell me about the times you've used it."

Even as disbelief traced the lines of his face, Musubu obeyed the villain's order.

The computers lowly buzzed in the background, pale, blue light illuminating the entire room. All For One needed to know more about the man's quirk before using it himself. After all, he had to be completely sure that this was the right decision. Such a powerful quirk can only bring destruction; hopefully, that destruction would fall on the heroes' side.

Taking a deep breath, Musubu started, "I-I was four years old. When it happened, a man appeared right in front of me, through a sort of... purple portal? He wore a helmet with a mountain logo on it, a mask, and a sword on his back. It was really weird.

"He stayed at our house, even while my parents were wary of him because he didn't seem to remember anything about himself." A chuckle escaped his lips. "We called him Aoi-Two... because the first Aoi was our dog. I hope he didn't mind.

"Then, a week later, it was reported that some thief who was able to rob dozens of Pro Heroes died to an unknown illness. They showed a picture of his face, and Aoi-Two freaked out. I thought it was just because they had the same exact helmet and mask, but it was more than that. He remembered who he was, and who that man who died was. He went on about this rant for needing money so he could heal his sick village... or something like that.

"That eventually led him to leave our house. I never saw him again, until another week later, it was reported that he died, too. It was, like, the exact same headline. Thief. Pro Heroes. Unknown illness."

All For One nodded as he spoke, taking it all in. A purple portal, huh... it made sense the quirk had been classified as Warping. Both the extent and effects of it, however, both amazed and puzzled him.

"What, exactly," he spoke from his armchair, "prompted the 'dimension' aspect of your quirk?"

"It was the doctors who named it," Musubu mumbled. "Aoi-Two told us about how things worked in his society, and how different it was, here. Really, what gave it away was the sickness that both him and the other interdimensional died to. It was labelled an anomaly, since, according to Aoi-Two, it affected his whole village. Yet, somehow, it didn't get contracted by any one of us."

Leaning forward, All For One rested his head in his hands. "How peculiar."

"Yeah..."

Reaching his hand out, he gestured for him to continue. "Now, the second pair?"


Killua fiddled with Aizawa's phone as he swung his legs across the couch, wasting time on newly downloaded app games (every time Aizawa handed his phone back to Killua, he'd find that they'd all been deleted. It was a never ending cycle.) It was getting easier and easier to use every single day, and, the more he used it, the more research he did on heroes and villains.

Of course, he briefly learned about the concepts in his Japanese and World History classes (as well as several other things he found himself scratching his head to, such as a damn globe on the teacher's desk,) but there still was the immense need for him to scratch that itch of learning about it at a deeper level. No matter how long he'd stayed without his memories, it still felt so foreign to him. Pro Heroes, Underground Heroes, Villains, Vigilantes... the list went on. What was even stranger to him was how hard-set society was on the same exact ideals: Pro Heroes are good, Villains are bad, no matter what. Pro Heroes don't kill people. Only Pro Heroes can use their quirk in public.

Thinking back to his conversation with Midoriya, Uraraka, and Iida during last week's lunch, he pouted.

What's a hero's purpose?

Uraraka had turned the question towards him in the end, but he genuinely hadn't been able to answer. If anything, he'd probably go with something similar to what Midoriya said.

Be dependable. Give help when not asked for. Give someone hope.

Killua loudly exhaled, exiting the cheaply made app game and setting the phone down on the coffee table. Another dead end in his head. He'd been reaching those quite frequently, recently. It seemed as if the longer he stayed here, the harder it was for his memories to resurface; and there was nothing he could do about it.

"Kid," Aizawa called from his bedroom door.

It was the day after the sports festival, and the school had let them take a day off. His guardian, instead of his usual hero getup, had worn a bland t-shirt and jeans, along with a loosely tied ponytail. Now he looks super duper homeless...

In an hour or so, Killua would meet up with Kaminari, as, thankfully, he accepted his offer to train together. It had been quite an odd request, actually, looking back on the first time he met up with him outside of the infirmary. His classmate may find it even stranger that Killua didn't actually want to train—admittedly, he just wanted to see his quirk in action, again.

Killua made a slight sound of acknowledgement, turning his head to the speaker.

For just a moment, Aizawa's mouth opened to say something. Then, he immediately closed it, instead going for a mumbled, "Don't get yourself into trouble."

"Huh? What else?" he blurted, tilting his head.

"What?"

"You were gonna say something else."

"No, I wasn't."

"Stupid, I saw it myself."

"And all I'm seeing right now is a brat who doesn't know when to stop."

Huffing and jumping off the couch, Killua shuffled over to the front door. "Whatever. I'm gonna go."

Realistically, if he left now, he'd probably have about half an hour of free time before meeting with Kaminari. Plenty of time for him to do... nothing. He'd prefer staying here and messing a little more with the Pro Hero's phone, but his presence was slowly starting to grate on him. With a monotonous goodbye from Aizawa, he exited the apartment and pushed his way through the main door of the building complex.

Killua, of course, didn't have his own phone to satisfy his boredom, but that also meant he had no way of contacting his classmates by himself. Yesterday, Kaminari had specified he wanted to meet up at 'that cafe near the school, you know?' And, annoyingly, Killua did not know. Cursing at not being able to contact him, he decided he'd head over to the school and try to scope out the area for himself. Maybe it was a good thing he decided to leave early, then; it wasn't like he had a map, either.

Soon enough, he found himself at the bottom of the hill where U.A. sat atop. Now, he just needed to find some sort of cafe around here that looked like a place Kaminari would go to. Strolling by the various shops and pedestrians, his eyes peered at a sign that had 'Pro Tea-ro! Cafe' written in an extremely obnoxious font. What a bad pun, too... Killua bit his cheek. They better have good food to make up for the sour taste that sign gave him.

This was the closest cafe to U.A., so he chose to sit and wait for Kaminari at one of the umbrella tables set up just outside of the shop, hoping he made the right guess. Murmuring to himself, he looked through the window of the shop, lazily focusing his eyes on the chalkboard menu. He wouldn't have to guess if Kaminari had just...

"Hey, Zoldyck!"

Speak of the devil.

Turning his gaze to the blond battery, he found him jogging up to his spot, waving a friendly hand at him.

"Hey," Killua greeted back in a nonchalant manner.

Standing at the table, Kaminari stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked inside the cafe. "Wanna go get something?"

A nod later, the pair walked inside and lined up to get their order taken. It was considerably big for a cafe, Killua noticed. Perhaps, since it was so close to U.A., they chose to accommodate for, uh, bigger-sized mutant quirks. It was just like the gigantic double doors that lead into every classroom back at their school. As his eyes scanned the menu, he found one particular item piquing his interest, as well as his own taste buds'. Prepared with an order, he made eye contact with the cashier.

"What can I get for you today?" the girl behind the counter asked, a sweet smile pointed towards the both of them.

"Hey," Kaminari said in a voice that made Killua want to immediately rush outside and abandon him here. "Can I get a sundae... with a side of your number?"

Was he... trying to flirt?

This was too embarrassing to watch. Killua regretted agreeing to meet up in a cafe.

As the girl took his order—completely ignoring Kaminari's 'side' order, much to Killua's delight—she turned her attention to him.

"And you?" she smiled.

"The chocolate cake pops, please."

Before Killua could reach a hand in his pocket, Kaminari's arm immediately stopped right in front of him. Confused, Killua turned to look at him.

A dark expression on his face, he muttered, "Let me pay." Lowering his voice so the cashier couldn't hear, he continued, "I can't let myself be outshined by a little kid..."

"Huh?"

Little kid... how old did he think he was?

Kaminari handed his card over the register, trying to force a smile through the fog masking his features. She swiped it, and—

BEEP.

"Sorry," the girl said, "your card was declined."

Kaminari's already dark expression somehow turned even darker: sunken eyes, deep wrinkles... as if he had aged fifty years in two seconds.

Weakly reaching back for his card, Killua took that as his cue to use 'his own.'

Once the exchange had completed, they walked to one of the tables inside so it'd be easier for them to know when their orders had finished.

"Have a good day, Aizawa!"

The sudden name call shook off Kaminari's face of despair, replacing it with one of bafflement. "Aizawa?" he repeated, sitting down at one of the booths.

Killua shrugged. "Guess she saw the name on the card I used." Bringing a single finger to his lips, he hushed. "Don't tell."

"Man..."

"Don't think I'm letting go of what you tried to do back there, though. What the hell was that?"

Kaminari scratched the back of his head, saying, "I just thought she was cute, I don't know... I wanted to impress her..."

"And how old do you actually think I am?"

"Huh?" he exclaimed, eyes widening. "Aren't you 12, or something?"

"Huh?! I'm 15, just like you!"

"Ah, come on! What am I supposed to think? You're really short, dude!"

"That doesn't mean I'm 12, stupid!"

Killua groaned, crossing his arms as he leaned back in his seat. What was it with this class? First, it was Mineta thinking he was a damn girl. Now, it's Kaminari thinking he's a 12 year old. He couldn't even think of anything else he'd get mistaken for, because those two things were already, most definitely, a reach. Even if he was right about him being short... Well, some part of him wanted to tell himself he was just a 'late bloomer,' that his genetics just hadn't kicked in yet. And, again, he internally sighed, when trying to think more deeply about it, it led to yet another dead end in his head.

"You're sure you're not actually 12 and your memory's just messing with you?"

To that, Killua simply tilted his head, furrowed his brows, and glared at him.

"A-Ah... well, sorry about that," Kaminari stammered, gaze flitting around the cafe. "Sensitive topic, huh?"

Shutting his eyes and exhaling to try and get himself to calm down, Killua said, "It doesn't matter. Let's just leave the cafe as soon as we're done with our orders."

Eyes fluttering open, he noticed his table mate nodding at the suggestion, pulling out his own phone.

Shortly, they'd been called to their orders. Killua, holding up one of his chocolate cake pops, inspected it. Looks tasty, he thought. Smells good, too. Taking a bite, he... realized he should have ordered way more.

And then, he did. Aizawa was probably going to scold him once he found out how much he spent at the cafe, but he didn't care. Pro Heroes were rich, anyway, right? (Indirectly) buying the most delicious food Killua had ever had—since waking up, at least—for a memory-less equivalent of an orphan could be considered as an act of kindness, or community service, or whatever it was heroes were supposed to do. His actions were justified. In his mind, at least.

"I didn't think you had that much of a sweet tooth," Kaminari commented, scooping his sundae with a small, pink plastic spoon.

"I didn't think you'd be that bad at flirting," Killua laughed. "Sundae 'with a side of your number?' Man, you're hopeless!"

"Dude. I'm usually way smoother than this, I swear."

Deciding to drop the subject, Killua waved his hand, simultaneously gripping a cake pop. "Whatever. We should decide on a good location before we leave."

"I still don' know why you wanna train wi' me out of all peop'e," he said, mouth full of ice cream muffling his voice. Gulping it down, he resumed, "You knocked me out without even needing to knock me out."

"Yeah," Killua agreed. "Honestly, I just wanna see you use your quirk again."

"My quirk? Do you think it's cool, or something?"

"You could say that."

Kaminari tapped the plastic spoon to his chin. "We can just go to U.A., then. Wherever you trained with Kirishima."

With that, Killua nodded. A bit of banter followed, persisting until the both of them had finished their desserts (Killua had to restrain himself from buying any more—it was bad to train on a full stomach, anyway.) Then, the pair went on their way to the forest surrounding their school.

Just like the last time he trained here, the trees left them with a cramped space. It wasn't like they had anywhere else to go, though, so Killua sucked it up and dealt with it.

"So," Kaminari called out, standing a good distance away from him, "what do you want me to do?"

"Well... what can you do, other than whatever happened at the sports festival?"

"Ah. You see... I don't have much control over it, yet..."

Killua sighed. Of course. He remembered that note in Midoriya's nerd notebook, but silently hoped Kaminari would miraculously learn something by the time they trained together. Unfortunately, his hopes were a little too unrealistic.

"No worries," Killua said, walking up to him. "Can you discharge a small amount, at least? So you don't turn into a complete idiot?"

"Hey, you're calling me an incomplete idiot?"

"Take it whatever way you want."

"Well," Kaminari spoke, golden eyes travelling to his hand. "Can an idiot do this?"

Suddenly, yellow sparks of electricity danced across his palm. Killua's eyes glazed over it, jaw dropping as he observed it. Individual sparks aimlessly zapped in every direction, disappearing into thin air as their charges ran out.

Proud smile plastered on his face, Kaminari boasted, "Cool, huh?"

"Can I touch it?"

"Huh?!"

Killua tilted his head. "Don't you remember our match, at all? I walked through your electricity. I'll be fine."

"You what?!"

Kaminari instantly ceased his quirk, ungraciously plopping down on the dirt. Groaning, he moped, "And I was here thinking my quirk was strong..."

"It is strong," Killua affirmed. "I just... have a high pain tolerance."

"High pain tolerance..." he echoed. Still staring at the dirt in front of him, he said, "You know anything about the USJ attack?"

The USJ attack? Killua thought. He remembered seeing it in Aizawa's files, and later on the news. What did that have to do with this?

He hummed, and Kaminari took that as his cue to continue. "The villains all separated us into groups. I guess they wanted to overpower us by pitting a couple students against hordes of villains, so I was with Yaoyorozu and Jirou.

"I couldn't go all out until the end—not until Yaoyorozu made an insulation sheet to protect her and Jirou from getting electrocuted. That way, once I used my quirk, every single villain in the area got knocked unconscious.

"So..." he paused, holding eye contact with Killua. "I used that exact same move on you at the sports festival. You're telling me you just, I don't know, strolled through something that got all those villains? I don't know what to think of that, man."

Killua crossed his arms. "I could still feel how painful it was, you know," he said.

"That makes this worse!" Kaminari sighed, hugging his knees. "Maybe it's your quirk, or something. I never did ask you, so what is it?"

Hesitating for a second, he bit his cheek. "That's what I'm trying to find out."

"What?" Kaminari questioned from his spot on the ground.

Not only did he just get a miniscule retelling of one of the battles at USJ—which he'd always been curious about—but he was now getting interrogated about his quirk. Honestly, he didn't mind being quirkless. There was just something in his gut, tugging at the possibility that he did have a quirk, despite all the pinky toe bone science stuff. Or, maybe, he thought, it's something other than a quirk...

But what else could it be? Were there any other powerful qualities than quirks? He hadn't learned about any in class, and the internet didn't help either. He might as well be chasing a pipe dream, but he couldn't help himself from grabbing at the familiar feeling he got through his electricity.

Instincts were all he had. He reminded himself of that fact a lot, but now, it was less of a comforting thought than a bitter one.

Shaking his head, he grabbed his classmate's arm and slightly pulled. "Just get up and do that thing again. If what I'm feeling is right, then I can give you a real answer for your question. Got it?"

"Geez, man, alright," he said, standing and dusting himself off. "I don't know what you're up to, but..."

As soon as the yellow sparks once again appeared, buzzing around the blond's hand, Killua immediately reached out.

Then, yellow turned into blue.

Killua, after what seemed like forever, finally broke through at least one of his dead ends.

Nen.


"So... I just have to get myself to do it, somehow?"

Kurogiri nodded. Earlier, the smoky man had given him a description of the full extent of his quirk; or, at least, what was already known about it. Right now, their little training session was meant to test the limits, work his quirk muscle, and... bartend.

"You've never made alcoholic drinks before, correct?"

"I mean, I wouldn't know..." Gon trailed off, "but nothing here looks familiar."

"Good, then. That's why we're choosing this as your first training session."

Gon's green eyes brightened. "I think it's cool! I've always seen you making drinks behind the bar, but it always confused me."

"Ask your questions when you finish making a whiskey highball," Kurogiri chuckled. "If your quirk succeeds without any prior knowledge on your end, then we'll have one thing confirmed."

"What thing?"

Kurogiri set down one of the bottles he'd just cleaned, watching as the child's interest grew further. "That your quirk truly 'summons' some sort of power. Perhaps from an outside source. I admit, the description is a little vague, but that is precisely why we are testing it."

"Huh," Gon said, jumping off the barstool and onto the floor. "Too bad I won't get to see it, though."

"Yes, it is quite unfortunate," Shigaraki said, albeit a little hesitantly.

Green shoes stepping behind the counter, he tried to find a way to activate his quirk. Rubbing his hands together? Nope. Jumping up and down? No. Yelling? Not at all, but it did cause Kurogiri to scold him for it, which was the complete opposite of the outcome he wanted.

Gon pouted. What did Sensei say...?

"When you want to use it, you simply ask."

"Ask?" Gon said, tilting his head. "Shigaraki told me to command myself."

The man shook his head. "While both methods work, it's better to be nice."

"What? Nice?" Gon scratched his cheek. "Do quirks have feelings?"

"No, child," the man laughed. "Although, this one is quite the peculiar quirk. Do you know the saying, 'treat others how you want to be treated?'"

Gon nodded.

"The same thing applies here."

Treat others how you want to be treated...

Should he consider his quirk as an "other?"

Was his quirk sentient or something?

No, that'd be weird. Quirks are muscles.

Then why did Sensei say that?

Gon was verging on a self-induced headache, and he hadn't even started his training yet.

Sucking in a breath, he started to speak, taking Sensei's words to heart. It was better than standing here, trying to figure it out on his own, anyway.

"Sonohoka, can you make a whiskey highball?"

A silent beat passed.

In just a moment, Kurogiri watched as Gon's muscled arms went limp, lowly hanging at his sides. Then, the orifices on his face turned into... empty holes?

When All For One said the child was going to "black out," he definitely was not expecting something like this.

Gon almost looked like a doll; one that someone scooped the eyeballs and teeth out of, at least. It was quite... a sight, but what caught his attention even further was the single word muttered by the now unconscious Gon.

"'Kay."

Instantly, Gon began grabbing at the bottles behind the bar; ginger ale, lemon, and, of course, whiskey. It was almost as if he was a professional. He mixed the drinks, using all the techniques Kurogiri applied in his own mixing.

Not only was Gon's sudden mixology skills quite the sight, but this quirk was... phenomenal. It's a wonder how no one had ever heard of it before if it can essentially give its user the skills to do anything. And All For One said he found it all on his own?

Kurogiri crossed his arms. He didn't like scrutinizing Sensei's actions, but he just knew he wasn't telling him or Shigaraki everything, whether it's about this Summon quirk, or anything about the boy. But, if that was the case, then what reason could he possibly have for being so secretive? Was it to protect Shigaraki? Protect Gon? Still, going down the endless rabbit hole of possibilites would prove to be useless, as it is all just that; speculation. He assumed he'd find out when All For One was ready to tell them, but it didn't mean he wasn't ever curious.

Soon enough, Gon had finished making the drink, leaving it on top of a coaster, a lemon slice stuck on the rim of the glass. If only Kurogiri had a mouth to express how overjoyed the presentation made him feel...

But, then, that mouth would instantly begin frowning, seeing that Gon had fallen and passed out on the floor, normal facial features returning.

"Freecss?" he called, leaning down to check if the boy was just unconscious or not.

Thankfully, he was. Picking him up, Kurogiri hoisted the sleeping child up on the couch, covering him with a thin blanket.

Quite the phenomenal quirk, indeed, he thought to himself. He couldn't tell if he passed out because of the fact he summoned a skill that he had absolutely no prior experience with, or whether that simply just happened every time he used it. More training, he supposed. It was better to be safe than sorry.

Kurogiri glanced at the boy. The quirk was based around life energy, was it not? How much life energy did Freecss exactly have?

The front door suddenly busted open, revealing a ragged Shigaraki.

"Welcome," Kurogiri greeted, bowing.

"Yeah, yeah," Shigaraki muttered.

The hand-ful man stopped in his tracks when he saw the sleeping child.

"Hey, how was training? Is it good?"

"He can summon powers that he has never had experience with before, so, yes," Kurogiri briefed, gesturing towards the drink. "He made this."

Shigaraki clicked his tongue. "As long as he doesn't try to beat me at the arcade with that damn quirk, he's good."

Kurogiri simply nodded, pondering whether he should tell him about All For One's potential secrecy in this situation...

"Did we win, then?" Shigaraki grinned, interrupting Kurogiri from his thoughts.

"Hm?"

"Those damn heroes back at USJ... they cheated. They cheated, and look what we have now." He scratched his neck. "We can beat the game in one move by telling this brat to kill every single Pro Hero, and he'd do it. He'd do it!"

"It is possible he can," Kurogiri reminded, "but we cannot jump to conclusions. More training must be done."

Shigaraki's outburst was quickly put out. Instead, he sat at one of the barstools, lazily picking up the drink Gon prepared. "What's this? Beer?"

"It's a whiskey highball."

"I don't care. They're all the same thing, anyway."

The man behind the counter sighed. Even as Shigaraki insulted his drink, he still took a sip of it.

Taking one more look at the boy on the couch, Kurogiri recalled the way his eyes turned to black holes, gaping mouth along with it. It was truly something that one would think only appears in horror movies, but here it was, stuck with the League of Villains.

What if Freecss asks this "Sonohoka" to retrieve his memories for him? Would that even work? If so... it would be far more than counter-intuitive. Also, what exactly was he summoning? Actual skills? Other quirks? Or was it souls?

Kurogiri caught himself falling down that rabbit hole again. Too many questions, too little information to actually answer with. Stopping himself, he just hoped this odd quirk wouldn't do any more harm than good for them.


A/N: ...guys, i'm gonna get sappy here. i'm not even kidding when i say this, but i actually cried from seeing how supportive and excited people are for this fic (who am i... izuku? jk.) i always make sure to thank readers for sticking around, but, now, i think i'm just making sure the message of how much it really means to me gets across. really, i only started writing this because of my own interest in the endless possibilities of a hxh x bnha crossover. so, seeing this little passion project of mine that i started for fun gradually gain more and more readers who want to see what happens in this world as much as i do makes me happy beyond words. so, so many kind words were said, and, at times, i could barely believe it; i had to read them over and over again to make sure i was processing them right. i know that, to some people, the attention this story gets maybe isn't a lot. but, to me, it's more than enough. i never thought that so many people would be genuinely invested in this story, so... i just want to say thank you, again. i know i said i don't reply back because my thank yous get repetitive, but i think, from now on, i'm going to try, even if i can't get to everyone. they'll still be repetitive, of course, but even a thousand thank yous will never amount to how grateful i am for everything.

alright, now that the sappy stuff's out of the way, haha. it'll be a while before i pour my heart out like that again, since i don't want to turn every note into a sobfest. here's chapter 8! starts off with some backstory (original quirk needs original character, right?) then killua rediscovers nen. and, finally gon begins his own training... haha. bonus points to whoever can figure out who the first interdimensional pair is (though i did make it easy on purpose lol.) this chapter hints towards everything big i've been planning so far, and i can't wait to write more! BTW, i just started college. kinda sucks, but i'm managing. anyway, i'm off to go do this english assignment i've been putting off (funny how i can write a 30k+ fic but not a simple full page ACED assignment...) i hope you're all doing well, and, as always, i'll see you in the next chapter!

P.S. "sonohoka" is "other" in japanese. i was hesitant on using it because i'm not sure it perfectly translates over, but both "sonohoka" and "other" are adjectives despite the latter being used as a noun, so i think i'm okay. if not, please tell me lol. i just love parallels... you know?

P.P.S. this is the longest A/N i've ever written...

P.P.P.S i made a small edit. i finished this at 7 am running on nothing but sleep deprivation, so i forgot to make a change in one of the earlier paragraphs (just that musubu last used his quirk TWO years ago, instead of ten.)