Wednesday


The faculty was lying.

One missed training workout they could believe, sending an agent in for reconnaissance.
Two, and they formulated a meeting time on school grounds, strong in numbers and conviction.

Their normal instructors were missing, filled with overqualified substitutes using their prep periods to cover the absences.

Midnight. Present Mic. Mr. Aizawa. Even All Might wasn't answering Midoriya's texts, recently released from the hospital and having finished early with Gran Torino to meet with his peers.

Likewise the other students had pulled out early for the day- some more eager than others, some having to fight tooth and nail with their mentors over appearances and common courtesy.

A roomful of Gen Ed students came to attention when the Sports Festival champion slammed into the room, demanding an audience with their absented teacher. Irritation riled his already-imprudent features and he glared around the room, rudely questioning who had been teaching Ethics for the past week.

No one had seen her. In days.

Class lectures had been replaced with senseless busywork, pulled from the pages of an ancient textbook and clearly impromptu.

There was no way Ms. Tsutomi was home with the stomach flu.

The short stature of Principal Nezu entered the lobby, eluding a sense of calm friendliness even as nine pairs of eyes watched his every move.

"Good afternoon, students! To what do I owe this pleasure?"
"Principal Nezu, sir."
Unanimous vote had selected Yaoyorozu over their primary class rep, believing her polite tones might serve better than Iida's tendency for the overzealous. She took a step forward, emphasizing who was speaking. "We're here looking for Ms. Tsutomi."
"Ah, Ms. Tsutomi is out today, I'm sorry to inform you."
The answer they expected. A clover head nodded.
"We understand that, but please, could you give us a little more information?"

They observed the furry animal donning a formal suit as he rocked on his rubber-soled shoes, as if contemplating the question. Bakugo grunted, emphasizing the waste of time.

"We know she's not sick, so don't even try that line again."
The group had also unanimously voted for Bakugo not to speak through the duration of the meeting.
Consequently, Katsuki Bakugo didn't really give a shit what they wanted.
"The stomach flu is over in less than twenty-four hours. If you're going to lie, at least make sure you come up with a good one."

"Bakugo, that is no way to speak to the principal," Iida admonishment rang true, even if his own conviction seemed a bit lacking. Principal Nezu watched them all, still contemplating his response.

They were an odd assortment of students; mostly from class 1-A, but colored with vastly different personalities and talents. There could be only one thing connecting them.

"You certainly are not all in Ms. Tsutomi's class at the same time. I'm curious as to how this particular group-" A fuzzy paw gestured between them all, "-came together."

The students hesitated.

Interesting.

Nezu had been made aware of the after-school workout regime; Chiyo had come to him immediately, questioning the ethicacy. He'd taken no issue with her group- in fact he'd encouraged her, praising the potential for teamwork and rapport enhancing such an organization could create.
What was intriguing was their reluctance to "out" their teacher. If he were to frown upon their after-school activity, they feared the potential consequences- not for themselves, but for her.

Interesting, indeed.

"We call ourselves Operation Submersion," It was the little one that spoke, notably lacking the joking manner he so often spoke in. "Ms. Tsutomi chose each of us to work with her in order to make her stronger."

"And us, along the way." Uraraka added. Midoriya and Asui gave agreeing nods.

"She wouldn't just bail- not after all the crap she spews about consistency. We know something's up." Bakugo spoke as bluntly to the principal as he did his peers. Best Jeanist had done nothing to fix his attitude, it seemed, though his outfit was a little less severe than usual.

"Please, we're just really worried. Where is our teacher?" Nezu was embarrassed not to remember the ginger-haired girl's name, struggling to recall 2-B's roster. Vlad King would have a fit if he caught such a slight.

They waited, all watching him so earnestly Nemura Kayama would've cried.
Nezu let his bubbly persona taper.

"The truth is, we're unsure of where Ms. Tsutomi is," The admittance felt dangerously like breaking protocol. These were simply students, after all- but students of the most prestigious hero school in Japan. More importantly, they were students with concern deep enough to bury Nezu three times over, having gone out of their way to inquire throughout the school, looking for answers.

"What does that mean?" Was this why All Might wasn't answering his phone? Midoriya stomach lurched.

"Ms. Tsutomi sent a text Sunday night claiming to be under the weather. On Monday, All Might and Mr. Aizawa led the police to her apartment, where they found many of her personal belongings missing. There were no signs of forced entry, and as such, there is no ongoing investigation by the authorities."

The students riled like a swarm of hornets.

"Ms. Tsutomi left?" Yaoyorozu gave an ardent shake of her head. "No."
"She wouldn't have just abandoned her job."
"Her job? She wouldn't have abandoned us." By us, Mineta clearly meant himself, looking personally upset. Asui didn't bother to smack him upside the head, too caught in her own thoughts.
"Has anyone contacted her mom?"

It sounded silly; Ms. Tsutomi was a grown woman, not a student like themselves. At the sudden dumbfounded look shot by several eyes, Asui blinked.

"Tsutomi-sensei mentioned her mom a lot, remember? She always got a little finicky about it."

"You're right," Yaoyorozu turned to her. They were the very first two to have joined their instructor, months ago now; handfuls of conversations ranging from school to training to personal interests had been held throughout their time together, drawing the two students to view her as more than just the essay-giving ethics teacher some saw her as. Yaoyorozu ran through their discussions, drawing out details.

"Well?" Bakugo demanded.
"She never minded talking about her mom when it came to simple topics, like food preferences or movies, but her behavior took a distinct turn when anything relating to our training came up," Yaoyorozu stared ahead without seeing, moving the thoughts around like coordinates. "If her items were taken, it makes sense she left amicably. Which we know she wouldn't do."

"So what, you think her mom stole her?" Mineta seemed skeptical.
"Remember when she showed us her quirk?" Midoriya stepped in, brows furrowed as he followed the process of Yaoyorozu. "And then just days later she denied the event ever happening."
"You think...her mom had something to do with that?" Ojiro voiced uneasily. Midoriya frowned.
"It's not impossible. Remember the sports festival? We both fought against a person with a mental quirk."

The next generation was truly remarkable.

"I'm afraid you must leave this in the capable hands of the professionals."
Principal Nezu stepped between the group with authority. Nine students balked, staring on with various levels of confusion.

"Professionals? What professionals?"
"You said yourself, sir. The police are not proceeding with an investigation," Iida pointed out. Nezu raised his hands in pacification.
"While the official police are not pursuing the case, several of our staff-"
"Do they have any leads?" The ginger- Kendo, Nezu recalled at last- interrupted. "Are they close to finding her?"
"Did they sweep her apartment for fingerprints?"
"What if her mom didn't actually take her?"
"How can you be sure she isn't in danger?"

Nezu flailed his arms about, overwhelmed by the towering audience attacking him with questions. "Please, everyone! You must calm down! I know you have questions and want answers- so do I. But involving yourself in this matter will only hinder those hard at work."

The group fell silent. Nezu took a few breaths, unused to the decibel he'd just been forced to utilize. His features softened.
"I know you're worried. It warms my heart to see how caring our student body is. But please, leave this to us."
They watched him go, quiet as he disappeared down the hall.

Yaoyorozu was the first to address the group.

"We have to find her."


For a group attempting secrecy, he ran into little trouble following them.

They were smart enough not to discuss the disappearance of Chiyo Tsutomi on school grounds, at least.
But in a wide, open park, where anyone could wander over, still didn't seem like the best place for a low profile rendezvous.

He'd questioned the validity of the ethics teacher's absence, but hadn't felt it was his place to call out the poorly-constructed falsehoods laid out by UA's faculty.

Not until that raging idiot had broken down the door, demanding answers in the middle of a class.

He'd had one interaction with class 1-A, total.
It hadn't gone well.
Watching them confront the principal, he'd also noted two of the group were the very ones he'd specifically fought just weeks earlier at the festival; another sign he shouldn't be doing what his legs led him to do, trailing after the group as logic begged him to turn around.

They hadn't even been aware of him listening in, observing the whole situation from a safe distance.

They didn't seem to notice him now, either, edging near the group sitting about in a haphazard circle as they discussed their plan of action, evening sky still glaringly sunny.

"We don't know where Tsutomi-sensei lives, and we can't just very well ask one of the instructors," The freckled one- the one he'd faced off against in the first rounds- was mumbling nearly incoherently, mouth hidden behind his hand as he thought aloud. "If we were able to access her home, there may be clues left behind- something the police or All Might wouldn't have noticed-"
"If you're going to help then speak up, you damn nerd," The class interrupter- Bakugo- griped loudly. Midoriya's face grew red, clearly embarrassed.
"What about friends? Tsutomi-sensei had that one friend she started hanging out with, right?"
"Yeah! The one with the hero reading program!"
"I don't think that's exactly what it was, Mineta-"
"Oh!" The girl who first approached the principal startled before shuffling into her bag. "She does own a bookstore, though. Ms. Tsutomi brought me something from there-"
The group took in the floral cover and she blushed, quickly pulling it to the safety of her arms. "It's a fantasy series we're both into."
"Is there an address, maybe on the inside cover?"
"It says The Knook."
"You think that's some sort of code? Like, she's a knook-"

"It's the name of the bookstore."

The disorganized bunch turned at the sound of his deadened voice, immediately on high alert. He held his hands up in surrender.

"You." Both boys from the festival exclaimed. He gave a slight bow of his head, still far enough away from the crowd to make a run for it if they proved aggressively opposed to his presence. Several of the others looked between them, caught on confusion and wariness.

"The name's Hitoshi Shinso. And The Knook is a bookstore in the second district- not too far from here, actually."
He'd been there on several occasions and enjoyed the peacefulness of its atmosphere. No one ever pestered him with questions or assistance; there only ever seemed to be one woman working, masked by a fiery wall of hair as she endlessly read from giant leather-bound books.

"You followed us?"
"You were spying?"
"Why are you here?"
Several members of the group crowded the air all at once. A sigh escaped Shinso tired-looking face.
He could've- should've- stayed out of it.

But then her pep talk replayed on a loop, leading him into this unknown, troublesome situation.

"I don't think there's such a thing as a villainous quirk. It's all about how you use it, Shinso."

"It's amazing to me how self-absorbed your class is. Did you forget Tsutomi-sensei teaches others besides your own?"
"If you just came here to mock us, leave," Mineta's eyes grew squinty with the demand. Shinso sighed another breath, having forgotten how painful interacting with this class truly was.

"I'm not here for you-"
"Then why are you here?"
It was that girl again. Her eyes were drawn sharp against his face, as if ready to peel back his skin if he answered incorrectly.

"You're clever, and talented, and deep down I know you care what people think about you, even if you pretend not to."

"Ms. Tsutomi important to more people than just your class." He answered.

They looked at each other. A silent vote ran between their eyes, polling towards the girl with the dark hair and sharp features. Shinso was painfully reminded of middle school days, standing knobby-kneed and wishing for a more physical quirk so he wouldn't be picked last, yet again, for a phys ed activity. As if quirks had even been allowed to be used in school like that.
As if he cared what others thought.
As if he wanted to be accepted by them.
The sharp-eyed girl took in the wordless votes, tallied the numbers before looking to him once more.

"I'm Momo Yaoyorozu. This is Asui Tsuyu-"
"Please call me Tsu."
"Midoriya and Ojiro, whom you've met before-"
"Hello again."
"Minoru Mineta-"
"If you've got any ideas of being Tsutomi's first choice, think again."
"Ochako Uraraka, Tenya Iida-"
"A pleasure to make your acquaintance."
"Katsuki Bakugo, and Itsuko Kendo."

"And I'm not part of Class 1-A. Please don't insult me like that," The ginger girl said, friendly enough not to offend. The group exchanged quick greetings before visibly beginning to relax, as if accepting him into their folds was as easy at that. The girl- Yaoyorozu, he'd have to remember- even went so far as to create a towel for him to sit on, pulling the material out of her own arm.

This really wasn't his scene; he wasn't here to make friends, and the general aura of Class 1-A- no, Operation Submersion, as the baubled one kept insisting- practically oozed a congeniality he wasn't particularly fond of.

Just like she had when he'd hung back after class, curious about the ethicacy- and her own personal opinion- on mental possession quirks, face crackling with a smile that was like looking into the sun.

"I know you're going to be a remarkable hero."

"So. You said you want to know where this place is?"


She'd spent all night compiling fragments of memory, sewing them together by the seams of her hair, pulling them to the forefront of her mind and into her hands.

A red door. An ancient, miniature tugboat, anchored in a lawn. Between two vines. Left, left, right.

It was nonsensical, unhelpful.
But he took her notes all the same, nodding his thanks and meaning it.

They spent all day roaming the city, combing through each prefecture, looking up the Otanis and tying off dead ends, circling back and keeping an eye out for the hazed landmarks. Tomorrow they would begin scouring the video stores, looking for their light-eyed friend with the hole-punched memories.

Manami Seto couldn't wait to drop into bed, feet begging to be freed of her body's weight, brain nearly worked past coherency.

Then again, maybe it had already been pushed past its breaking point; if she didn't know better, there appeared to be a mob of teenagers standing outside her closed store, faces pressed to the glass like meddlesome ghosts peeking into another dimension.

Several of them she recognized from television. One of them had visited her store a number of times, memorable by that giant tuft of lavender hair, wild and defiant of gravity.
But all of them, she realized, were familiar due to a certain someone's detailed descriptions, fitted with stories and experiences for each individual teenager.

"Please! We're looking for Chiyo Tsutomi! We're her students!"

They viewed one another curiously, two fractions of one life meeting for the first time.

The students were surprised by her knowledge of each of them- all of them, from Yaoyorozu's quirk ability down to Shinso's UA classification, even if neither he nor his missing sensei believed he should be in General Education studies.

Manami, in turn, was surprised at the tenacity of the group of adolescents as they vehemently offered their assistance.

"If your principal said you shouldn't interfere, wouldn't it be best to follow his advice?" Manami struggled against their unwavering current of questions and requests. "We- including some of your own teachers- are working very hard to find her-"

"But wouldn't a few pairs of extra eyes be beneficial to your search?"

Manami had recognized Asui- Tsu, as Chiyo called her- and Yaoyorozu immediately; they were always the first students Chiyo would mention, commenting on their creative answers or some ridiculous pun one of the girls shared with her. They seemed to be guiding this hunt, hard-faced and unblinking.

Manami again tried to come up with a protest. "It might not be safe-"
"You're not a pro hero, and you're involved."

True. Very true. Fatigue drained her will down the tubes.

"What is that you want, specifically?"

"We'd like access to her apartment, if you know where it's at," The hazardous kid who gave Chiyo the most worry lifted a beat-up notebook, revealing a sheet of messily scribbled ideas and thoughts. Manami wondered, vaguely, how Chiyo had the patience to decipher such writing for a living. "We have some ideas of clues Ms. Tsutomi might have left behind."

"Even if I showed you the apartment, I don't have a key. I can't let you just break down the door."

"Most apartment complexes- especially old ones- use a very standard mechanic," A silver key appeared in Yaoyorozu's palm, rising from her skin. "We won't have to break down anything- we won't even be breaking in."

Manami was beginning to understand why Chiyo praised these children so highly. She gave her thumbnail a contemplative nibble.

Their instructors had spoken against their involvement; the principal himself had forbidden them.

But Manami wasn't affiliated with UA High School.

And nearly 72 hours had passed since her best friend was taken from her life again.

"At the first sign of trouble, we're leaving."

Light filled their eyes and a spark of energy ignited against her ribs, brightening the darkness between her lungs. "You touch her clothing drawers and I'll call the police myself...Mineta."

"What?" The grape screeched.


The electricity was still on, at least.

Yaoyorozu slipped the created key into the lock. The knob turned with ease, caught only by the door's uneven frame before swinging inward.
It was a crowded fit; the space wasn't meant for ten teenagers and a young woman, all of various sizes. Shinso lagged in the entryway, keeping an eye on the hall.

Hazel eyes watched him through a cracked door one apartment over. Busybody.

"What are we looking for, exactly?" Ojiro kept his tail tightly wrapped around his shoulder, careful not to disturb the figurines on Tsutomi's TV stand. There was an impressive video game collection just underneath, but nothing stood out as particularly clue-worthy.

"Any signs of distress; a scuff on the floor, swept up glass, something she wrote."
"Hey, she graded our essays!"
Iida received a daggered look. He sheepishly returned the stack hefty with stickers and pen marks alike. "Sorry."

The urge to enter her sweet-smelling bedroom pulled at Mineta like a addict's hankering but he remained on the straight and narrow, plucking sticky balls from his head and using them to pick up fingerprints. Yaoyorozu had been less than thrilled with his request of a "box for his balls", but seemed relieved to see its purpose in action now.

An discomfort ivied around each student as they picked through their instructor's things; the remnants of her life, discarded in the abduction. Hope began to fade and then Bakugo made a noise from the kitchen, taken aback.

"I think...I've found something."

The further Shinso moved into the apartment the braver the hazel eyes became, pulling out of its shell and aiming for a closer peek. As tempting as the discovery in the kitchen was Shinso didn't move, eyeing the shabby figure drawing nearer in the hallway.

The cover was faded, worn by time and frequent touching, pages soft and near see-through due to the writing adorning both sides. The fine, slanting markings were unmistakable.

Hidden under a pile of junk in a drawer, it would've been easily mistaken for an old planner, rather than Chiyo Tsutomi's journal.

Bakugo had only cracked the cover before realizing what it was, shutting its contents before reading too much. He held it up now, dully eyeing Manami.

"It's Tsutomi's handwriting. Some kind of journal, or whatever. Accounting her life."

"Ms.," Iida mumbled. "Ms. Tsutomi."

Bakugo shot him a withering glare.

"You're right," Manami took the notebook, thumbed through the pages. "A lot of it is the transcripts for the videos." She glanced curiously back to the blonde. He was another student Chiyo spent a great deal of time talking about, often with a vast array of emotions. "How'd you know to look there?"

"I caught her hiding a bag of chips in a rafter once,"Bakugo's feature grew irritated at the blank stare of the audience. "She's sneaky, okay? This seemed like a Tsutomi place to hide shit she wouldn't want found."

"Bakugo, langu-"

"Shut it, four-eyes." He turned his angry glare to the adult. "Does anything stick out to you in it?"

A branch of names was sketched out near the final pages, like a disjointed family tree without the actual familial limbs, titled Mom's Safety Nets. There were names of places, such as the college Chiyo had attended, tying into a past too large for Hannei to erase.

A person's name was circled - Seiichi Tanaka

It didn't ring a bell, but she'd been insistent, circling the name in bright red ink several times. What did you mean, Chiyo? Manami's thumb nail was nearing the quick, worried to a stub.

Even if she couldn't figure it out, there were two people who might know Chiyo even better than herself.

"We have to get this to Mr. Aizawa-"

"Hey!" A voice called out. Yaoyorozu jumped, taking a quick survey of the room. Notably, the shortest student wasn't among them.

"Mineta, I swear, if you're in her bed-"

"Well I'm not not in her bed," A lisp drew out coyly. They moved as one angry conglomerate, only to find the bedroom empty.

"Down here, peasants."

The grapes of his head made a strange squeaking sound against Tsutomi's bed frame as Mineta popped up from beneath. He held out a grape sphere glistening with sharp edges. "Broken glass, just like you told us to look for, Midoriya."

"What else is under there?" While interested, Iida refused to step into the room- the very idea was disgraceful. Kendo sidestepped Iida alongside Uraraka to carefully lift the bed with her quirked hands, just as soon as Uraraka removed its gravitational force.

Several shoe boxes, a few dusty balls of cat hair, and a smattering of glass was put on display. Mineta rolled another ball around, picking up the rest.

"What's the glass from, I wonder?"

There were no signs of broken frames, and there weren't enough shards to have composed so much as a small glass drinking cup.

"Maybe the police took it?"

"Yeah, the police who aren't willing to do jack shit," Bakugo snorted. He, too, hovered outside the doorway. In fact, the only male who had dared the threshold was Mineta, looking around in drooling wonder.

Tsuyu smacked the look off his perverted little face, shuffling them both out of the room.

"Even if the police aren't willing to help, I'm sure UA has the resources to analyze these," Yaoyorozu picked up the container of purple spheres used to collect the glass and potential prints. "Is there anything else we've missed? Midoriya, can you think of-"

A loud clattering riled even Bakugo's nerves. Manami pulled in front of the students before rushing towards the sound, an acute clarity of how stupid they'd been running through her mind. They'd been treating this place as a crime scene, and hadn't she watched enough murder shows to know how often the assailant returns to the scene of the crime?

But it was the boy from the bookstore, lavender hair just as chaotic as before, huddled over something in the hallway.

Rather, someone.

"You're Ms. Tsutomi's neighbor, huh?" Shinso asked casually. He noticed Midoriya tense from the corner of his vision, as if re-questioning the decision to bring him all over again. Figures. "Do you spend a lot of time out here, watching her?"

"Hard not to, when she's constantly making a racket," The neighbor spit into Shinso's face, staggering back and using the wall to scamper upright.

There was a shagginess about this particular neighbor; his stained, over-sized shirt hung limply on his body, like clothes on a wire strung in a breeze, and long, sparse hair reached down past his shoulders, somehow emphasizing the largeness of his ever-watching eyes, the sharp peak of his upturned nose.

Encouraged by Tsutomi's open door he'd sleuthed out like a drawn moth, only to be caught in Shinso's waiting web.
He'd cried out at the sight of him hidden just beyond the doorway, throwing a piteous punch and tripping over himself before the boy ever went on the offensive.

Now, Shinso felt the connection like a telephone wire between them.

"It's all about how you use it, Shinso."

"Answer honestly: what do you know about Chiyo Tsutomi?" It felt decidedly wrong, using his instructor's first name. But he needed to be clear, precise. "When did you last see her?"

"I know she teaches at a fancy hero school. She's lived here for a while now, since college. She has a cat and it's a monster. The only person it's ever let in the apartment besides herself is that tall dark-haired guy she kissed in the hallway."
Dark-haired guy? Shinso glanced at the others; confusion looked back, save for the fox-faced woman looking suddenly nervous.
"I saw her last on Sunday."
"Was she alone?"
His face twitched, reluctant. Fortunately, he didn't have much choice in whether or not to answer. "No."
"Who was she with?"
The man fought to keep his mouth closed. Midoriya gently grabbed hold of Shinso's arm. "Maybe you shouldn't-"
"Who was Chiyo Tsutomi with when she was abducted?"
"Her mother was waiting for her."

A gasp, low but sharp, rang out behind him; this is what they had suspected.

"How did her mother get into the apartment?"
"She had a key. The beast wasn't home. Tsutomi had taken it with her the day before."

Saturday? Where would she have taken her cat overnight? "How often have you seen the elder Tsutomi?"

"Three times a week, before. After Tsutomi got her fancy-pants job? Maybe once a week, if that."
He didn't even need to think about the answer. Shinso felt a wave of disgust bile his stomach. The desire to press the man further, ask how often he watched his teacher like a predator in the shadows, was tempting.

But that wasn't why they were here.

"Did Tsutomi leave willingly?"
"She always left with the woman willingly."
He hadn't been specific enough. "Did Tsutomi seem to be her normal self, when they left?"

The man laughed. "No."

"Can't you ask him better questions? Better yet, why don't we just beat it out of him," Bakugo was growing restless, rage invigorated by the sleazebag. "This guy is garbage. We shouldn't be wasting time playing nice-"

"How did she act differently, when her mom came to visit?" Shinso continued as if they'd never been interrupted.
This time, the man did have to think about it.
"Her hands would shake. The muscles in her face would jump around, too. Like she'd been scared, but her eyes were always normal. Clear..."

Bakugo jerked towards the thin, homely man, violent in light of the tone he was using. Shinso took a breath just as Midoriya and Ijiro restrained Bakugo's outburst.

"Do you know where they went?"
"She said something about how Chiyo needed a nice long rest and that her room was all made up for her. I think she was going to take her home."
"Do you have any idea where that might be? Where Mrs. Tsutomi lives?"
"By a new apartment complex. She complained about it a lot, because they built a park and added a pond."
"Did she mention what city, what prefecture?"
"No."

He couldn't lie. This was as much information as they were going to get in terms of the location of either Tsutomi.
A dull pain was starting to dreg up the back of Shinso's skull. There wasn't much time left.

"Did anyone else come to the apartment after Mrs. Tsutomi left with her daughter?"
"Yes."
"Who?" The bookkeeper blurted, unable to control herself. The man continued to stare at Shinso. He repeated her question.

"Didn't know him."
"Describe what he looked like."
"Average height. Kind of skinny. Red shoes. There was a dead hand on his face."

A dead hand? While this meant nothing to Shinso, Manami, and Kendo, Class 1-A breathed an audible gasp.

"Was he alone?" Again, not articulate enough. "Who was with him if he wasn't alone?"
"A man that looked like a foggy cloud. He stayed outside the apartment while the hand-man went inside."
"Did he come out with anything?"
"No."

He was nearing his limit. Shinso stared directly into the man's hazel eyes, took a deep breath.

"You are never going to spy on Chiyo Tsutomi again. You will not watch her from your door, from windows, or anything else. If you see her, you will turn away. If she speaks to you, you will be polite, but never intrusive. You will never enter her apartment again."

Seconds left. The harder the command, the more energy it soaked out of his mind.

"Forget you ever saw any of the people behind me. Forget this conversation. Turn around, enter your apartment, and go to bed."

Entranced, the man did exactly as Hitoshi Shinso commanded.

The last grain of energy shifted out of his system.

A band of arms caught him before he hit the ground, looking amazed.

"That was the sickest thing I've ever seen." Mineta's head cushioned his bottom half, too short to do anything but act as a stool. Shinso stood quickly, fighting the fatigue wearing down his bones.

"Mineta's right, Shinso," Tsuyu gave an impressed nod. A pink tongue poked out one side of her mouth with the gesture. "You're pretty amazing."

They were all doing that hero course thing, oozing friendliness like an incurable disease. Shinso took a few steps back, defensive force shields blinking to life between them. He wasn't here to make friends; growing chummy with the pretentious hero course chumps wasn't his mission objective.
And yet-

"We should probably go. There's no telling how long it'll be before he gets back up, or someone else comes to investigate."

"Right," Manami took charge, hurrying back into Tsutomi's apartment to double-check everything was exactly how they found it, save the notebook now tucked into her bag. They filtered through the apartment building on silent feet, careful not to alert anyone else of their unwarranted presence.

"They didn't even question her neighbor." Midoriya said in awe. Night had already descended outside, shadowing each student's features as they reflected on this turn of events.
The loud overturn of a trash can ricocheted down the street; Bakugo had kicked its metal side, nearly collapsing the can entirely. "Damn it!"
"Bakugo, stop! Do you want us to get caught?" Uraraka hissed. She charged in his direction, yanking him by the arm as they fled down and out of the neighborhood. Luckily, there was a bus stop not too far from where they were. Bakugo seemed momentarily pacified, glancing in surprise at the round-faced girl's hand on his bare arm, directing his movements. By the time he snapped back to his usual self they were a full block out of sight from Tsutomi's apartment complex.

"They expect us to sit around and do nothing while they handle this? Mindfuck boy got more information in ten minutes than they have in days."
"Bakugo," Manami sighed. The explosive blonde hissed when she grabbed his ear and yanked. "Chiyo- Ms. Tsutomi wasn't wrong, when she said you have a potty mouth."

He was right, though. Wednesday was all but over and she had learned more information with this group of teenagers than she had with anyone else- professional or otherwise. Guilt bit into her stomach lining.

"I'm going to take all this information to- to the heroes working on finding her, right away. It will be obvious you helped-" She looked at the box of purple orbs for emphasis, "-but it's easier to ask for forgiveness than permission. You know, again." Manami didn't need to check her phone to generate her next statement; "It's late. You should all go home and get some rest."

"Ma'am?" Midoriya raised his hand, as if sitting in a classroom rather than standing on a quiet street, waiting for the lights of the next bus to appear. "Please, it's important you tell them everything about the man who showed up after Ms. Tsutomi was taken."

"Oh, yeah." Kendo spoke what Shinso had only wondered, unwilling to inquire. "Who is that guy? You've heard of him?"
"He's the hand bastard that led the attack on the USJ,"
Midoriya affirmed Bakugo's words with a nod. "He's the leader of the League of Villains. When he attacked, Ms. Tsutomi was badly wounded by one of his creatures, which he called a Nomu."

Nomu? Chiyo, what have you gotten yourself into? "I'll be sure to let them know."

Brakes screeched to a halt behind them. As reluctant as they felt to leave, there was nothing more that could be done tonight. Manami's hair moved like liquid fire with the deep bow she presented.

"Words cannot express my gratitude for your help. Chiyo- Ms. Tsutomi would be a blubbering mess, knowing how much you all cared for her."

The awkwardness of every student's age appeared, made uncomfortable by the adult woman's sincerity. Even Mineta couldn't produce a ridiculous comeback after Manami rose, eyes glistening over each of them.

"We just want our teacher back," Yaoyorozu said softly. A few students nodded, quieted by the moment. "Thank you for giving us the opportunity to help."

"Enough sap already!" Bakugo stomped on to the bus without a single glance back. "Just get her ass back. I'll be damned if I made an entire workout schedule so she could skimp out of it and waste my damn time."

"Forgive him." Every student of Class 1-A chorused with a unified bow. A rock flew off the bus and hit Midoriya in the side of the head. When did he even pick that up? Was he carrying it around, just waiting for the right moment?

"Thank you, again. Mr. Aizawa will keep you informed; if you need anything else, you know where to find me."

"Shinso can act as our go-between." Tsuyu bumped her shoulder against the boy in question's- an action both uncomfortable and strangely forward to Shinso. Even the frog is trying to befriend me.

Manami waited until the bus was out of sight before pulling her phone out, already punching in Eraser Head's number before she could even formulate where to start.

The bus driver, a man appearing to be in his mid-fifties with elfin-like ears, kept throwing wary glances at the herd of teenagers he'd just picked up, hopeful for a peaceful end to his shift. They were all surprisingly quiet, sitting close together- save a tuft of purple hair removed from the group by a few seats and a boy whose appendage seemed to need its very own chair.

Their Ethics teacher had been abducted.
There were clear signs of some mental control.

But most terrifyingly of all, Tomura Shigaraki was after her, and nobody seemed to know why.


Author's Note: Wisdom teeth extraction: successful. Writing the personalities of ten or so MHA characters and trying to capture their essence correctly: ...? I had a lot of fun trying, at the very least.
NOTE: I know Shinso's quirk doesn't exactly work like this- an individual under his control can only do mundane, simple tasks- interrogation wouldn't probably fall into that category. This is a slight change used specifically for my story (though, what if it's an ability he just hasn't unlocked yet in MHA? Eeeeeeeep).
Does anyone remember who Seiichi is? This isn't the first time you've heard that name.
It's also fun to go back and pick up on all the tidbits of Chiyo's neighbor being a f*cking creep throughout the story. The writing was always on the wall.