It didn't make any sense.
No matter how many times they repeated it the words scrambled, shifted in the frying pan and changed shape altogether.

"We cannot open an investigation. We cannot file her as a missing person."

She had been blushing in his arms less than twenty-four hours earlier, nerves thrown off kilter by some silly tease he'd murmured in her ear, caught between leaving and staying for another night.

"There simply isn't enough evidence."

The liquid light of her eyes above him, calling him the keeper of her heart and breath.

"Are you sure Chiyo Tsutomi didn't leave of her own free will?"

She wouldn't have left. He would bet his life on it.

"What about the photograph? The markings-"
"It could've been burnt; there were several candles throughout-"
"Tomura Shigaraki is the leader of the League of Villains with a known disintegration quirk, but you want me to believe Tsutomi burnt a photo of herself over a candle?" Aizawa's aptitude for sarcasm emphasized the stupidity of such a notion tenfold. It was one of his better abilities. "They've already had one altercation at the USJ attack- I told you how he seemed to recognize her, though Tsutomi had no memory of seeing him before." His black-eyed stare could strip a steel wall bare. "But you still feel a candle is more plausible."

"We dusted the rooms for fingerprints and will contact her phone service to collect her calls and messages, but there really isn't any more we can do at this time."

Naomasa Tsukauchi was a plain-looking man with unremarkable features, but what he lacked physically was compensated in spades of earnestness. Empathy, even. He and his team had arrived within minutes of his friend's phone call, regardless of standard procedure, collecting as much information and sniffing out as many oddities as possible.

But even All Might couldn't pull the strings of the entire police force.

Tsukauchi's head shook with a frown.
"You don't believe the League of Villains took her though, correct?"
"Hannei Tsutomi, her mother, was also pursuing Chiyo," Given the milling officers All Might stood in full-bodied form, glancing towards the silently brooding Eraser Head for affirmation. "We believe she reached Chiyo first."

"And Ms. Tsutomi wouldn't have gone willingly?"
"No."

This was a waste of time. Aizawa itched to abandon the useless questioning and pursue his own methods of investigation- namely, Manami Seto and whatever information she could offer.

"She even took her cat-"

"Chiyo Tsutomi wouldn't have just left," Aizawa cut in dryly.
If the police wouldn't open a case he hoped they would return the phone and any further secrets it contained. He glanced around for the wielder of said device.
"Her students are her topmost priority, as is her job. She wouldn't abandon them both on a whim. We believe Hannei Tsutomi possesses some sort of mind quirk and convinced her to leave against her will. Now if you don't mind, I'll be taking her phone, seeing that you aren't willing to open a case."

Again with the sarcasm that could make a hacksaw look docile. Tsukauchi balked at the dig and All Might patted his shoulder; he had often received the brunt end of Aizawa's tone and knew the feeling well. "Thank you for your work, Tsukauchi. I understand your hands are tied."

Aizawa didn't. Not in the slightest. A woman was missing and their response was a passive shrug and a friendly 'We'll keep an eye out.' A busful of Midnights would be more helpful than this.

He dismissed the duo- mentally and physically- and had set his sights on a particularly severe looking zoomorphic holding a ziplocked phone in his scaled hands when Tsukauchi spoke out again; "It's not just my hands that are tied."

"What does that even mean?" Aizawa could barely manage to keep the snap in an undertone. The reptilian officer proved much easier to steal from than All Might and he pocketed the phone quickly. Tsukauchi gave a furtive glance around, as if the walls might be listening in.

"Any investigation into Hannei Tsutomi has been marked as classified."

That caught their attention.

"What?"
"You know how you asked me to look into her?" The question was directed towards All Might. He gave a quick nod. "Well I did. Thoroughly. No fingerprints, social security, anything on record. Had Ms. Tsutomi ever mentioned where her mother lived?"
"No," Aizawa answered, surprised. Tsukauchi's mouth formed a thin line.
"If we are to believe Hannei Tsutomi possesses a mental quirk, it's possible she had blocked this information from Chiyo's memory."

The other officers were beginning to grow restless, dirtying the hallway with their heavy shoes. Tsukauchi waved them off. As they filed out the quick shutting of a door resonating in the hallway; the nosy neighbor again, ever the busybody. Tsukauchi visibly relaxed in the quieted apartment.

"I spent hours researching the domestic abuse report you sent. Gran Torino's agency was nowhere near Kagami Park, where the incident took place. All access requests for the full report- including the suspect and victim's names- has been thoroughly censored. The chief of police was powerless in obtaining the information."

How? "You think a higher power is involved?"

The detective's plain face frowned. "Even if that were the case, some sort of explanation would have to be given to the head of Tokyo's police force. Something is awry here; something we're not seeing."

But you're still not willing to open a case, Aizawa thought, regardless of the logical barriers Tsukauchi had just explained. Sandpaper grated across his skull at the tail-chasing circle they were trapped in. All Might's muscles rippled, wavering on fatigue before a skinny phantom appeared in their wake. If possible his eyes were even more concaved, frightening against the determined pierce of his gaze.

"Even if the police can't provide any more information at this time, there's one person who can."


Aizawa was thankful Sorahiko Torino was aware of All Might's lessened form; lugging around the bag of muscles would've severed his car's life by at least five years.

They drove without the radio to fill the silence, tangled in their own minds and the uncomfortable tension between them. Toshinori didn't comment on Aizawa's less-than-model-citizen abidance to driving laws. Aizawa in turn didn't comment on his continuous tampering with the air conditioning.
With half an hour's worth of traveling ahead of them, the quiet sat on Toshinori's chest like an anvil.

"Hannei Tsutomi won't hurt her daughter," He said at last- to assure Aizawa or himself, neither was certain. Subtle shifts of movement noted the driver's attention. "In her distorted viewing, I believe she thinks she's protecting Chiyo."

It was no secret their personas were like night and day- from normal interactions to their professional careers. Shota Aizawa had always been hard-boiled. He only lightly veiled his contempt of exuberance, attention-seeking heroes, and generally half the world's population. Toshinori could count on one hand how many times he'd seen his coworker riled over something, show more than a grimace in reaction.

Those cool-toned characteristics seemed replicated when they discovered Chiyo's absence and, in turn, had thrown Toshinori into an incinerator, fury clouding his senses over Aizawa's aloofness.
It wasn't until he'd overstepped, let fear taint his words and accuse the man of personally allowing this to happen, that Toshinori noticed the cracks in the shadowed armor, fissuring out emotion like an awakening geyser.
Shota Aizawa was fighting valiantly to keep the emotions in check, limit the tensing muscles in his jaw and tremble of his fingers, out of sight, burying them deeper under the mask of calm.

He had been foolish to think he hadn't cared; if anything, he probably felt what was sickening Toshinori's core tenfold.

Toshinori accepted Aizawa's worried silence but looked at him all the same. "We will find her."
Aizawa released a slow breath, readjusted his grip on the steering wheel.
"We have to."


Gran Torino's heydays were decades past- that much was clear from the dilapidated building before them, tagged with graffiti and crumbling on every edge. With the three hard knocks Toshinori rapped on the door an avalanche of dust sneezed from the bricks.

Why would a low-profile pro hero cover a domestic abuse case- let alone one nowhere near his precinct?
Twenty-something years prior, when All Might was barely a blip on the radar.
Were the two connected somehow?

"He very well may be at the hospital visiting young Midoriya," Toshinori's voice cut through the fog. Ever since they entered the neighborhood his face had been pinched, similar to the nervous expressions he so often displayed around Chiyo. He's frightened? This man had to be in his sixties at the very least. "Perhaps we should go back-"

Aizawa kicked in the door without a second thought.
Toshinori stared in horror as Aizawa strolled into the building, noting the faint smells of mildew and frying grease. The innards hardly impressed the outer shell, though it did appear someone had attempted to clean recently. Tentative steps followed him inside.

"I really think we should try-"
"He's here."

He hadn't just been teaching Chiyo; through her submersion, the explanations she produced on how she felt others nearby, Aizawa's own senses had been heightening, focusing on properties he'd never considered before.

The air, though dampened from the rickety building, held a certain moisture of presence, inhaled and exhaled slowly from an entity close by. Waiting. Hiding.

He didn't have time for this.

A flash of gold sprung forth before a surprised shout, caught in the spider's web of Aizawa's capturing weapon. Toshinori looked near fainting at the sight.
Aizawa yanked one long cloth, dragging an impeccably short, infuriated old man towards him. "Gran Torino, I take it?"

"What the hell is this? Who are you people?" The hunched figure wailed feebly. Aizawa looked to Toshinori, annoyance clear. The old man followed his gaze and transformed into an entirely different person, unfolding like crumpled origami.

"Toshinori? What are you doing here?"
"S-Sorry sir, we didn't mean to disturb you- I can pay for a new door-"

"Quit babbling like an old man and stand up straight," Torino grouched. Aizawa loosened the weapon and he stood, brushing off his cape. "If you're here for the kid, he's still in the hospital." His eyes followed the material lines leading to Aizawa. "...Though I have a feeling he's not who you're looking for."

"This is Eraser Head-"
"I know who he is, boy." Even if he didn't, introductions seemed pointless. Aizawa's normally-grim face was currently enough to give even the Grim Reaper a moment of hesitance.

"We're here to ask about a case you filed twenty-six years ago." Aizawa cut to the point, ignoring the ideas of civility Toshinori suggested in the car. "A domestic abuse case in Musustafu, near Kagami Park."

"Eh? You expect me to remember something from way back when?" Torino had fallen back into his old man routine, hobbling towards the couch. Aizawa continued to stare him down, unconvinced.

"The agency you're affiliated with was nowhere near that area."
Gran Torino shrugged. "Perhaps I was just passing through."
"Interesting. And I'm sure you had nothing to do with the report's iron-clad classification, right?"
"Haven't the slightest idea what you're talking about, boy."

"Master, please," Toshinori moved to sit beside Gran Torino- a comical sight. The old man's legs hovered two feet off the ground while Toshinori was a paper-folded doll, full of sharp knees and elbows. Torino took notice of the seriousness in his pupil's expression, vacant of the normal jitters. He raised his chin, eyes keen on the both of them.

"What's this about?"

"A woman was hired for a new position at UA- an Ethics class for the potential heroes of tomorrow," Aizawa was the one who spoke. A nagging piece of his brain sounding a lot like said ethics teacher quietly reiterated some irrational quote about flies and honey. He scraped a chair across the floor until it sat only a foot from the elder.
"Throughout her residency her personality began to change; we believe her mother was controlling her memory and beliefs through some mental control. Saturday she confronted her mother. Today she went missing."

"What's that have to do with me?"

Aizawa knew it was a long shot; he knew he would've had better luck winning the lottery, or reforming Kayama's perverted ways.

He carefully unfolded the photograph, careful of the ashen left edge, handed it to Torino.
The reaction was immediate.

This was the one in a million chance.

Gran Torino didn't speak- just continued to stare down at the faces as if they were whispering their own discussion to him. An Adam's apple bobbed.
"Is this...She's the woman who works at UA?"
"Yes."

Torino nodded, though didn't comment further. Toshinori took over the inquisition. "That's Chiyo Tsutomi and her mother, Hannei. Do you recognize either of them?"

Again the old man nodded without a word. Aizawa fought down the idea of simply tying him down and forcing out the answers with haste. Toshinori took account of his companion's growing impatience.

"Master, we believe Chiyo was taken against her will. There are no records of Hannei Tsutomi on file. Chiyo had mentioned having no memory of her father and Hannei's reluctance to discuss him. It took nearly ten hours of digging, but I found a case that aligned close to Chiyo's assumed birth and location. Imagine my surprise when it also led to you."
Toshinori wasn't accusing, or angered; instead his voice held gentleness, a quiet desire for understanding.
"Is this the woman from that case?"

A moment of silence passed. Then another. They were both separately reminded of Chiyo's regulating quirk, how she'd described to them both the sensation of feeling every drop of blood in her body.
At this second, waiting on bated breath for Torino's answer, they both finally understood what she had meant.

A new version of the Gran Torino took shape, hunched from actual wear rather than a charlatan's act, breath heavier when he at last lifted his weathered face.

"Her name wasn't Hannei Tsutomi at the time."