Jiro knew something was wrong when he didn't immediately respond to her text telling them both to come over at seven. After twenty minutes, she shot him another text message. Then she tried calling– only to be deferred to voicemail. A few more hours passed, and she was growing worried. She considered running over to the Midoriya residence herself– when her old man suddenly hollered up the stairs:

"Kyoka, get some clothes on! We're going to the hospital, NOW!"

It wasn't often that Kyotoku raised his voice like that, but whenever he did, she knew he was being dead serious. Initially thinking something happened to her mom, she was miffed to see that both of her parents were already standing by the door, jackets hastily thrown on with panicked expressions on their faces.

"What's wrong!? What happened!?" Her old man quickly ushered her through the entrance, as Mika frantically fumbled with the keys in her attempt to lock the house.

Neither of them said anything coherent as they practically threw their daughter inside the car. Unable to handle the silence, she spoke up.

"What the hell is going on!?"

Mika and Kyotoku looked at each other for a moment, as if contemplating how to best describe things.

"Kyo…" Her mom trembled as she white-knuckled the steering wheel.

"We're canceling our plans for tonight."

She hiccupped, as her old man placed a soothing hand on his wife's shoulder to comfort her. Fearing the answer, she prodded anyway.

"Is this about Green?"

Without turning, Kyotoku nodded.

"Did Inko call you to let you know what happened?"

Her mom's jacks impulsively coiled around her husband's digits.

"We aren't sure exactly what happened, Kyo, but… if you want to piece the puzzle together yourself… it's been all over the news for the past fifty minutes." They merged into a turn lane.

Upon hearing this, she immediately opened the local news tab on her phone. Her heart just about stopped when she read the headline on C.B. News;

'Inko Midoriya, aged forty-one, was fatally thrown from the top of Goldman Tower by an unnamed villain with a teleporting quirk.'

"Oh my God." She cupped her hand around her mouth to stifle her gasp.

She was going to be sick.

"We're almost there– Kyo— so keep it together just a little bit longer, ok Hun? We'll be seeing Izuku soon." Her old man tried to reassure her, but the moisture had already built up in her eyes.

Once the small family arrived in the parking garage, they wasted no time, speed-walking through the automatic sliding doors. The old man slammed his hand on the receptionist's desk.

To her credit, the lady hardly flinched.

"Hello, welcome to Musutafu General Hospital, how may I help you?" She gave them her practiced opening line.

"Izuku Midoriya– which room is he in!?" He got straight to the point, a fact that Jiro couldn't have been more grateful for.

The receptionist scrolled through the list of names on her screen, pursing her lips.

"He is currently in room B-2."

"Alright, where is that?"

"Emergency Room B-2 is located in the forensics wing–"

" –Forensics? The hell is he doing in the forensics wing!? That boy is a damn hero! Not some crooked villain!" Kyotoku demanded, outraged by the information.

"Due to the fragility of the situation and lack of pertinent evidence, the police department has ensured that no unnecessary circumstances will arise–"

" –Unnecessary!? You got that part right!" He scoffed, looking more pissed than Jiro or Mika had seen him in years.

"That boy is practically family! We need to see him!"

"EXCUSE ME!"

A surgeon who looked like he just came straight from the operating room nearly ran into the family.

"Have any of you–!" He paused to catch his breath, steadying his upper body with his hands on his knees.

"Have ANY of you seen a young man with long black hair and half an arm missing wandering somewhere around here!?" His gray hair was disheveled.

"Um, no?" Kyotoku frowned.

The surgeon, aghast, diverted his attention to the receptionist, who sighed, appearing eternally exhausted.

"You might have more luck trying the camera room, Dr. Kaminari."

He facepalmed in frustration.

"Gah! Why didn't I think of that!" He resumed his sprint down the linoleum hallway, narrowly dodging multiple wheelchairs and nurses.

Before her old man could go on another tangent, Mika stepped in to be the mitigator.

"Please, excuse my husband. We're all very concerned for Izuku." She readjusted her glasses.

"It's a reaction I'm used to. I've been doing this for a decent time, ma'am, so no harm done. If you'll situate yourself in the waiting room, a doctor should arrive to let you know when you can visit him."

"Wait, we can't go see him now?" Mika blinked owlishly, understandably confused.

"Our policy permits only one visitor at a time for patients still in the ER."

"So who's in there with him right now!?"

"It's against the law for me to give out that information."

"Typical." Kyotoku scowled, crossing his arms.

"If it isn't Inko, then… who is it?" Jiro wondered aloud, mirroring her parents' thoughts.

Toshinori Yagi sat across from Izuku Midoriya, watching sadly as the freckled teen struggled to breathe, even with assistance from a ventilator. He was in really bad shape– and that meant a lot coming from him– as he was missing half a stomach and lung himself.

Both of his arms were encased in thick casts, with several nail implants to promote stability and ensure that the bone healed correctly. The frontal and occipital portions of his skull were fractured so extensively the surgeons were forced to perform an immediate craniectomy. The worst part about all this?

It only got worse and worse for the greenette.

On his left shoulder, Midoriya had suffered a sixth degree burn. That meant the heat was so extreme, that it ate through every layer of skin, fat, muscle, tissue– before it eventually struck bone– and even that had been charred. One of the doctors had described the wound as, 'if someone were to pour molten magma on your shoulder and then leave it sitting there for thirty seconds.' Multiple skin grafts had been done already, and he was scheduled for more procedures in the morning.

Even with the medical technology of their modern day– nothing would be able to perfectly fix what would inevitably become a permanent scar. An ever present reminder of the most painful day of his young life.

The strange green watch Midoriya wore was incapable of being removed. It baffled every available surgeon at the hospital, as they discussed amongst themselves how they should remove it. After much debate, and some miniature feedback waves, they decided that allowing the device to remain, would be for the best, seeing as the area around it was in surprisingly good shape in contrast to the rest of what it was attached to. It made disinfecting a chore, but the staff weren't searching for reasons to complain.

Especially not when All Might, the number one hero, requested to visit the injured teen personally.

Toshinori had taxed himself earlier that day, so he took the time his debilitated state provided him with by reading, 'Teaching For Dummies.' That's when he felt the rumbling shockwave. In a flash, he was in his hero form, leaping through the window. The strain on his body meant nothing. The raw power behind it– to him it meant only one thing– that All For One was back.

Expecting the fight of his life upon reaching the construction site, he was instead equally horrified to find Izuku Midoriya, the same quirkless boy he met all those months ago— bloodied on the ground in a broken heap. A short distance from him, a man in futuristic armor was decomposing at a rapid pace. He only had enough strength to leap down to the nearest ambulance, before he reverted back to his emaciated form. He circled back to the police line, where he ran into his friend Naomasa Tsukauchi, a detective who was well acquainted with his greatest secret– to which he revealed that he too, had also discovered a wounded teenager at the scene of the crime.

The two briefly discussed the situation, neither able to make sense of it.

In the end, Toshinori had agreed to be the one to keep an eye on Midoriya– at least initially. Under the pretense that if any random villain were to waltz in on them– All Might would be a worthy deterrent to swiftly deal with the threat. Tsukauchi made a beeline for UA, intending on delivering the news to principal Nezu personally.

The blonde man shook his head dolefully, moving to fill his plastic cup with additional water.

"All... Might...?"

Dropping his cup in surprise, he whirled around to the source of the voice.

'God, I had forgotten he knows what I look like outside of hero work!' Placing a hand over his chest to steady his bursting heart rate, he devised:

"Young Midoriya!? You're awake!? So soon!?" He rushed to his bedside.

"What… are you…?" He whispered from under the mask.

"Don't worry, I'll call the nurses so they can readminister your painkillers and sedatives!" He fiddled with the remote, searching for the correct button to press.

"No… I… need… to talk… to you… alone…" Every syllable appeared to put strain on his throat, as he wheezed markedly in between breaths.

"What could possibly be so important that you need to talk to me now of all times!?"

"I… know… about… One For All…"

His shadowed teal eyes widened considerably.

"So it… is true… Eon… he wasn't… lying…"

"Eon? Is that the villain you fought?"

Not bothering with a substantial response, Young Midoriya's good eye leaked like a broken faucet.

"He said… that you… gave me… One For All… in another… timeline…"

"This is nonsense! You're going on about timelines and a quirk you have no clue as to what it's origins are!? You're delirious with pain– I'm getting the nurses!"

"All… Might…" His voice broke pitifully. "...Were… you… quirkless…before you… received… One For All?"

The number one hero had frozen in place, fingers poised to hit the call button. Just who was Eon? How did he know about One For All!? Common sense told him to ignore the wounded boy's mutterings, but it was as if some inexplicable force was holding him back– encouraging him to soothe his desperate plea.

"You need to rest."

"I… want… to hear… you… say it…"

He knew the implications of what he said. He understood that he probably shattered the kid's dream that day. He was trying to protect him… but if his talk with Chiyo had been any indicator, perhaps it would be beneficial for them both if he were honest outright.

"Yes."

His answer was curt– no roundabout explanation– just plain, simple confirmation that his suspicions served their purpose.

"And… you told me… no?"

He knew exactly the words that Young Midoriya was referring to. He had spoken to them himself, after all. Ah. So that's what this feeling was:

Guilt.

"I didn't want you to hurt yourself."

He felt pathetic as those words departed from his throat.

In spite of himself, the greenette chuckled dryly: "The pain… I… couldn't… care less… about…" He said as his vacant stare drilled into Toshinori– unyielding.

"You know… I… used to… practice… smiling… in the… mirror… every… day… trying to… emulate… you…" His face scrunched miserably. "...I… thought… since… everyone… loved you… maybe… if I… could… do that… they… might… like… me… too… I… wanted to belong… somewhere… just… anywhere…"

Suddenly, he descended into a coughing fit, spattering the inside of his ventilator mask with blood.

"Shit!" Toshinori smashed the call button, mentalling berating himself for being swept up in his emotions and not doing so sooner.

Every alarm bell in her head blared when she saw the woman who was a carbon copy of Bakugou in female form cussing out a doctor in the waiting room.

"He's my damn godson! You're telling me that I can't see him!?"

The doctor, who had been clutching his clipboard as if it were a shield to fend off the mature blonde's fiery tongue, outwardly cringed, looking like they wished they were anywhere but there.

"Mrs. Bakugou, like I said before, we aren't allowed to permit more than one visitor in the ER at a time! Please, calm down!"

"CALM DOWN!? MY BEST FRIEND IS FUCKING DEAD AND YOU'RE TELLING ME TO CALM DOWN!?"

In an instant it was like all the air had been sucked out of the waiting room through a vacuum.

"Mitsuki, we should listen to the professionals. They know what they're doing. We will get to see him eventually. I know it's hard, and it's unfair of me to ask this of you, but for now, we just have to be patient. OK?" A man beside her with coffee brown hair spoke gently, rubbing soft circles on the trembling woman's back.

She looked ready to combust some more, but the man, who Jiro was assuming was her husband, seemed to have a soothing effect on her seering temper, as she gradually deflated. A few short breathing exercises later, and she appeared to have fully simmered down. Partially– she still looked pissed– but now it was controlled.

"I'm sorry. I- I'm really mixed up on the inside right now. My best friend since I was a kid is gone. She entrusted me to take care of Izuku in case anything like this were to happen–" Her chest shuddered with a heavy sob, her husband swooping in to cradle the grief-stricken women.

Chin resting on her head, as she cried into his shoulder, Masaru Bakugou spoke earnestly:

"Thank you, for everything you're doing to keep Izuku in good health. Come get us when you're ready."

The doctor mutely nodded, before briskly exiting the waiting room through the pair of double doors. He dropped his pen but he didn't dare go back for it.

Jiro's gaze lingered on the pair for a moment longer, when she deduced that if they were here, then it also meant–

"Ears." Katsuki Bakugou begrudgingly acknowledged her.

The explosive pomeranian was slouched back on a cushioned chair, legs firmly planted on the table with magazines.

"Bakugou." She crossed her arms defensively, ready for whatever tirade he would choose to go on.

"Do you have any respect? Get your feet off the table." She scolded him.

Normally, she wouldn't have bothered with trying to monitor the blonde's excessively rude behavior, but with the state of mind she was in right now, her filter had been effectively pitched out the nearest window.

A tic bulged on his forehead, and while giving an aggressive huff– he actually surprisingly complied– only to proceed to then stomp out of the waiting room.

"Katsuki!" His mom tried to chide him, only for him to wave her off.

"I need some fresh air! Away from… this!" He gestured to everything.

Jiro was semiglad that he hadn't called her out specifically.

Bakugou thrust his smoking hands into his pockets, marching for the nearest entryway that led him outside of the sterilized prison. He needed something to distract himself from his hurricane of rampant thoughts, most of which were directly connected to the shitty nerd himself.

Today was supposed to be his day. He would receive the acceptance letter from UA, proudly take his place at the top, and be well on his way to becoming the greatest hero to have ever existed. Not even All Might will be able to outshine him– he was certain of that.

But what ended up happening?

Oh, nothing really– just that he was IN SECOND FUCKING PLACE!?

His initial reaction had been that of deafening silence. Because HOW!? HOW, did ANYONE beat HIM!? He was Katsuki Bakugou, a born winner and this was officially the last straw! In the darkest pits of his mind, he had an itching suspicion who exactly it was that assumed his justly deserved throne at the summit. It was a harsh reality that he wasn't willing to accept. For fucks sake– the shitty nerd had his powers for less than a year! Meanwhile, he had his quirk since he was four goddamn motherfucking years! He should've had every advantage going in!

Apparently, experience doesn't trump talent in this scenario.

The extra training regiment he put himself through hadn't helped him in the slightest! Sure, he scored ninety points on the practical, but none of that mattered now that he was further behind than ever before– perhaps for the first time in his life– he felt that he was no longer the best… and to be second best to- to- to Deku of all people! It infuriated him!

Noticing that his core temperature was rising significantly he looked for something to cool himself off with before he blew up the entire hospital. He spotted a vending machine at the end of the hallway. Animatedly, he ripped a wad of money from his wallet, shoving it inside the scanner. He selected a cherry soda. He waited, tapping his foot impatiently.

And waited.

…And waited.

Nothing.

He banged his fists repeatedly against the glass as if it would make the machine work. That's it. There's no going back. The best day of his life had officially become the worst as the universe gave him the biggest middle finger in human history!

"I got you, dude." A taller boy with long black hair pushed him aside as he placed an extended palm on the dull metal.

He had a gnarly, ugly pink scar slashed along the curve of his jawline.

Almost immediately, small, blue arcs of electricity danced across the vending machine– causing it to shudder. With an anticlimactic groan, the hatch flew wide open, spitting out dozens of soda cans rolling across the tiled flooring.

Bakugou deadpanned as the other teen– currently wearing a hospital gown and apparently being down half an arm– knelt down to pick up a few cans, exposing his bare ass to him in plain view.

"Here." He handed him a grape soda.

'I fucking hate grape.' But he still accepted the beverage.

"Thanks… Who're you supposed to be? You look like you woke up in a ditch."

"Oh yeah? You looked like you were about to send that vending machine to the moon."

"What if I was?" He challenged.

"I don't fucking care." He snorted, rolling his onyx eyes. "These things break down all the time." He took an experimental swig.

When he decided he liked it, he proceeded to chug it.

"Bakugou Katsuki."

"Kevin." The taller teen gulped down the remaining fluid, before belching and tossing the crumpled aluminum in a nearby trash can, disregarding a recycling bin that was literally right behind him.

"So, what happened to your arm? You fall asleep on it and damage the nerves so irreversibly that you had to get it amputated?"

For a split second, Kevin looked like he wanted to slap the shit out of him, though he appeared to recall that he had more sense than to go beating up people he only just met.

"Nah. Lost it in a fight…" He shrugged carelessly.

His indifferent attitude was starting to get under Bakugou's skin.

"Did you win?"

The stretch of silence indicated that the result was, in fact, quite the opposite. Kevin glared at his offending nub, wrapped in gauze and bandages to keep the relatively fresh wound safe from infection.

"Do you know how to get to Bellwood?" Kevin ignored his previous statement.

"Hah? Bellwood? Is that a sex shop?"

"No, dumbass– it's a city!" He said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Tch. Well there's no Bellwoods near here."

"Fine. Where are we then? I'll find my way back."

Bakugou squinted at him, as if trying to discern if he was joking or not.

"We're in Musutafu, Japan." He ground out slowly, so he couldn't possibly be misinterpreted.

Kevin's eyes blew wide open.

"Japan!?" He picked a can off the floor, gesturing to the text.

"You're telling me this is Japanese? Fucking this!?" He sounded incredulous.

"Are you retarded!? Yes! That's Japanese kanji– and you're speaking it right fucking now!"

The taller teen studied his annoyed scowl, until finally conceding:

"Guess this is that unspoken thing Gwen was telling me about…"

"What the hell are you talking about!?"

"It doesn't matter." He sighed, rubbing his face frustratingly.

"Fine– It was nice meeting you, Scar-Face, but–"

" –HAHA! I got you now!" A manic surgeon erupted from the laundry shoot in the wall beside them, causing both teens to jump.

"And I see you have an accomplice as well!" He pointed at Bakugou offendingly.

"Quick, grab as many as you can and run!" Kevin ordered him as he shoved a handful of snacks into the startled blonde's arms, while he scooped as many sodas as he could manage with his singular fully functioning arm.

"Where were you keeping all this!?"

"Shut up– just run!"

"Damnit!" Bakugou cursed, however, he was determined to match and exceed the taller teen's pace.

"Young man, you need medical attention!" The surgeon hollered through gasps.

"Dr. Kaminari, don't run with scissors!" A neighboring nurse chided him.

"Sorry! I'll speedwalk!"

Jiro never could've imagined that the Bakugou's and her own parents would get along so well. The combined trauma from such an event could make anyone reach for comfort, she supposed. Even if they were the people responsible for siring the biggest asshole on the face planet who made it his active mission to spit on her best friend whenever the opportune time presented itself. That being said– she ruefully had to admit– they didn't seem too bad. The father– Masaru– especially.

Bakugou definitely seemed to take after his mother, Mitsuki. Everything down from the looks to the explosive temper– the key difference being that she was able to reel back her anger spikes. Her son seemed to give no inclination that he understood what such a concept was: restraint. Past the prickly exterior, the Bakugou matriarch was a pleasant person to be around, if only a bit rowdy.

The double doors swung open, revealing the shaking doctor from earlier.

Jiro was the first one up.

"Can we see him now?"

The man's glasses glinted in the artificial light, obscuring his eye color.

"Yes… and we're allowing as many visitors as he needs."

"R-really!?" She was surprised, though her jacks were already tugging on her parents.

He nodded, waving to the Bakugou's to ensure they were following along.

The walk to the forensics wing saw them entering through multiple pad locked doors with fingerprint scanners. Wherever they were keeping Green, it was secure to the point where she wondered that it might've been excessive. Then she recalled that he had the Omnitrix, and rejected the previous notion. Nothing could really contain him, so if anything, the added security was pointless.

Finally, after minutes of wordless tension, the doctor halted at a wide square door. It appeared to be made of some indestructible metal, as exasperated by the yellow sign warning against running into it face-first for risk of head trauma. The gears mechanisms within the door hissed, splitting down the middle and sinking into the four upper and lower corners.

'A bit extra.'

The doctor calmly stepped inside, giving them the OK for them to enter. A thick downpour of dread settled over her, making her gulp. The room was stark white, save for the bed, where–

'Oh no…'

In an instant she was by his side, hands fluttering about as she struggled to choose where she wanted to rest them. She compromised with herself by interlocking her fingers behind her head. She thought he looked bad after what happened on the train with Shirai… but this had to be a thousand times worse.

"Green…?"

He didn't budge.

The only indication that he was still alive was the beeping of the heart monitor.

"W-what the h-hell happened to our Izuku, doc?" Mitsuki's voice quivered, still in the process of registering the horror of what had befallen her godson.

"The injuries… they speak for themselves– but the villain– whoever did this to him– they made sure that he was going to suffer."

"Who could do this!? Who could do this to Inko and Izuku of all people!?" She seeked refuge on Masaru again, who had no issue with it.

"Doctor, do you know if they caught the villain who did this to Izuku?" Masaru spoke in his steady tone as always– but this time there was an underlying burn to it.

He was livid, he just wasn't showing it on his face.

"That happens to be the half the issue, Mr. Bakugou. The villain who attacked young Izuku and his mother… seems to be… well, dead."

A haunting several seconds passed.

"You think Izuku killed the bastard?"

"Mitsuki!" Masaru gasped, earning him an irritated huff from his wife.

"What!? If he did do it, I wouldn't blame him! That villain had it coming– I'd say justice was rightfully served!" She crossed her arms defiantly.

"Amen to that!"

Everyone jolted at the intrusion of the boisterous foreign voice, turning to see a teen with long black hair and a hospital gown standing slightly past the entrance. A steaming, red-faced Bakugou was vibrating beside him. He had two armfuls of snacks and sodas– so much so that Jiro was impressed he didn't drop any of it.

"Katsuki, is this a friend of yours?" Masaru wondered aloud, but before his son could answer him, the taller teen with a glaring face scar spoke up.

Given any other circumstances, Jiro probably would've been on the ground laughing.

"Names Kevin. But you guys can call me Kev. It's nice to finally meet the folks– Katsuki tells me all about you."

"Oh my! There on a first name basis too!?" Mitsuki covered her gasp with her hand.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP–!" Bakugou nearly bit his own tongue off.

" –KEEP YOUR VOLUME DOWN, BRAT!"

"DON'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO YOU OLD HAG–!"

The shouting match was concluded early by Masaru, who simultaneously chopped the necks of both his wife and son. The doctor watched glumly as the snack bags and aluminum canisters clanged to the floor. No explanation was required as he moved to seat their limp bodies in their respective chairs.

"How did you even get in here? Only hospital personnel have access to this segment of the forensics wing."

Kevin blinked at his admission.

"Um, all the doors were unlocked? For future reference, you guys should really remember to lock them after you leave."

The doctor looked like he wanted to scream 'BULLSHIT,' but understood that would be unprofessional of him to do.

Kyotoku and Mika, who had been largely quiet up until then, caught the doctor's attention as he prepared to make his exit.

"Hey uh, we'll cover the bill…?" Her old man trailed off as the medical professional held up a placating hand.

"There will be no need for that. Someone has already pledged the money required for Izuku's treatment here."

"What? Who did that!?" Mika gaped outwardly, dumbfounded by the reveal.

"I'm not permitted to disclose that information– sorry." He added quickly at the end.

"At least we know that there is someone other than us who has his best interests in mind." Masaru deducted.

"I guess that ought to be true…" Jiro's old man scratched his dirty blonde locks contemplatively.

On the opposite side of the room closest to the windows, Kevin clicked the power button connected to the television. The monitor sparked to life, displaying a familiar construction site. The camera zoomed in on a purple silhouette– but the details were still fine enough so that the Osmosian halfling was able to tell who it was.

"Hey! What the hell!? That's him!"

His loud objection drew the attention of the other occupants of the room.

"The villain?" Jiro inquired.

"That's the asshole who cut my arm off!" He growled. "He calls himself Eon."

"Did he tell you before he attacked you?" Jiro's squint was resembling that of a glare.

"He wanted information on the whereabouts of the–" His eyes widened like saucers when they spotted Green's watch.

" –How does he have that?"

The alarm bells were going off in her head again.

"You know what this is?" She leered at him suspiciously.

"It's called the Omnitrix." He frowned as he said this. "It's the most powerful weapon in the entire universe?"

"I know that."

"OK, so… care to explain why your boyfriend here has it?"

"He's not my boyfriend. Also– and I never met him personally– I only know about him through Green– but Ben Tennyson apparently gave it to him as a gift. Said he could use it to become a hero. That was around… ten months ago now." She slowed as Kevin appeared to be struggling to process the information.

"Does the name Ben Tennyson sound familiar?"

"He was my worst enemy…" He swallowed before also adding,"...He was my best friend."

"Is he…?" Jiro merely implied it, but Kevin understood what she was referring to.

"Yeah. He's gone."

"I'm sorry."

"It's alright. I'm trying to get over it."

"You don't… have to get over it?" Her brows pressed together concerningly. "You're allowed to feel pain over missing someone you loved… maybe even hated– in your case."

At a loss for words, their collective attention would again be diverted, as the wounded greenette stirred.

An emerald eye peaked through a swollen purple eyelid, blearily locking onto the taller teen

"You're… best friend… he killed… my mother…"

"Green?" She unconsciously ran her hand through a damp lock on his head.

"I don't think we're talking about the same person here." Kevin started, trying to connect the dots. "Eon is the guy who murdered your mom– not Ben."

"That's because… Tennyson… IS… Eon…" He rasped in response.

Kevin stared at him for a moment longer, trying to discern if he was being truthful or not.

"Not the Ben I knew. He would never stoop to killing someone." He shook his head.

"BREAKING NEWS! It has been reported by C.B. News, short for Cherry Blossom News with Hans Luechi, that the current tragedy regarding the Goldman Tower Incident is directly tied to the Endeavor Train Incident some odd ten months ago!" The anchorwoman on the TV blared.

"The fuck?" Jiro stared at the screen, baffled by what she was seeing.

"If you pay attention to these photos closely, you will notice that each and everyone of these mysterious transformation quirk users all have a green, almost hourglass shaped emblem located on their chests. That fact combined with evidence of who was directly involved with the scene of the crime makes the distinction fairly obvious.

The transforming quirk user has been confirmed to be none other than Izuku Midoriya, the son of Inko Midoriya, the same woman who was killed when she was thrown from the crest of Goldman Tower. You heard me correctly, all of these immensely powerful quirks that were put on display were the result of one teenager. The iconic Slipstream– and a whole slew of others! Sources have also confirmed that Midoriya not only applied but was also accepted by UA High School! Now, only time will tell what fate lies in the future for this young man." The anchorwoman readjusted her papers, signaling the end of her segment as the broadcast shifted over to commercials.

"So, everyone knows your secret– at least, partially?" Jiro's attempt at minimizing the harmful situation was met with silence.

Which was soon broken by a surgeon– stumbling inside the room.

"Dr. Kaminari? What are you doing here?" His coworker appeared genuinely surprised to see him.

"You punk, kid!" He ignored the other doctor, as he leaned his weight on the doorframe.

He had a large red welt on his forehead.

"I'm trying to help you and this is how you repay me!? You knock me out and use my fingerprint scan to get through eight highly secure doorways!?"

Sweat runs down Kevin's neck as the conscious adults in the room observe him questioningly.

"Look, dude– I'm sorry. But I told you I wasn't comfortable around needles. You didn't respect my boundaries– so don't expect me to respect yours."

The elderly man slumped over, defeated.

"Fine. That's fair I guess. I'll make sure not even a single syringe is within your sight– please just let us run a mandatory check up before we discharge you."

Kevin begrudgingly nodded.

"Sounds good. I'll uh, see you guys later, maybe?"

Mika waved goodbye to him, though she was unsure what role he had to play in all of this– Jiro herself was more than content with knowing that her friend was still alive– albeit, barely.

"I can't imagine how much pain you're in, but try and stay strong, Green. Stay strong."

A foreign stray tear dribbled into the palm of her hand.

'How could this happen? And to you of all people?' Her lips pulled into a determined grimace.

'You won't have to worry about anything. We'll get through this. Together.'

Comforted by Jiro's gentle hand running through his hair, Izuku drifted off into slumber once more…