We're back again! Thank you for the support of this sequel, I promise to not let you down! If you want some mood music for this fic, there are two pieces that have really captured my attention.

Memory by Joseph William Morgan

The Encounter by ABBOTT, 2WEI, and Luna Morgenstern

People often told Shinsou that he was fueled by spite, but he always liked to say it was determination. And right now, he was very much determined to stop the game of tag he and this mystery villain had been playing for the last three months.

If there was one thing people didn't associate with him, it was creativity. He understood why— his hero costume was pretty much all black. He stayed away from the spotlight. He spoke in an even monotone, eyes carefully blank at all times. So yes, he didn't give off a natural, free-spirit, artistic persona.

But Shinsou was in fact creative, just not in the way many people would think. Having already gone down all the standard avenues of trying to get his opponent in his grasp, Shinsou knew he had to diverge from the norm.

And he was pretty sure he had succeeded.

The underground hero toyed with the hearing aids as he waited in the shadows. He'd had to swallow his pride and talk to Bakugou of all people for this idea, but the one good thing about the explosive hero was that he didn't give a shit— he'd asked no questions when Shinsou questioned him about how his hearing aids worked, only barking out the bare minimum of an answer before stomping away. As he always did after interacting with Bakugou, Shinsou marveled at how Kirishima managed to tame such a beast.

Back to the matter at hand. You see, disabilities among heroes were a well kept secret in the hero community. It wasn't that they were seen as a weakness— but everyone knew that if word of their disabilities became public, villains would not hesitate to exploit them. Hell, if the opposite happened, everyone knew they would do the same. It was just how things were; every potential advantage had to be taken.

Things like Midoriya's reinforced arm braces were easy enough to hide. It seemed more like a style choice in his costume design than a medical necessity. As for Bakugou, Shinsou could still recall the day he'd been diagnosed with hearing problems by Recovery Girl. Everyone was told to stay out of his way that day in class; only Kirishima had been brave enough to approach him.

Apparently certain issues like this were common. Heroes with light-producing quirks could have vision damage over time, just like how Bakugou's explosions had slowly dwindled down his hearing to essentially nothing (though they should've all realized this before with how much he shouted).

And that was going to be Shinsou's key to unlocking his adversary.

The light metallic ping of a footstep on the warehouse roof alerted him to their presence. Shinsou was quick to hold his breath.

He glanced around the corner silently. Their hands were on their hips, and their head was swiveling back and forth, searching for him. Just when it looked like they were going to give up, Shinsou clicked a button on his belt.

The sound of a can being kicked in the distance played from the recorder he'd hidden. His acquaintance perked up immediately, and Shinsou would have been a fool to not notice the skip in their step as they began to make their way to the far side of the roof.

Perfect.

The underground hero didn't waste a second. He darted out from the shadows, a hearing aid in each hand. They whipped around the exact moment he needed them to. Shinsou captured their head between his hands, forcing the hearing aids on over their mask. The devices latched on, and he only had the time to smirk before he was pushed away by a brutal kick to the chest.

As soon as he landed on the rooftop, he pressed the mute button.

Satisfaction coursed through his veins as he watched them crumble to their knees, hands grasping desperately at the devices. There was fear in those silver eyes— something he hadn't seen before.

That fear quickly turned to fury when they realized what he did.

You see, hearing aids were meant to help (hence the word aid). These in particular were designed to stay on a hero's ears no matter what happened in battle; they were a product of the renowned Melissa Shield, so of course they were the industry standard for those who needed them.

But Shinsou had also discovered that they could be dialed down all the way to hearing absolutely nothing at all.

Shinsou stood and held up the remote, waving it tauntingly, and silver eyes looked even more enraged. They made to move forward, then paused. The underground hero almost felt bad when he saw the realization burst forth painfully in their eyes. They'd figured it out— he'd essentially made them quirkless. Their best weapon was out of commission.

Even with the mask, he could tell they were pouting. They crossed their arms, glaring at him like if they looked angry enough, it would somehow juxtapose the submission he'd forced them into.

"It's a lovely night, isn't it?" Shinsou started off conversationally.

The cloth over their lips moved— but then a light went off in their eyes. Ah, so they'd realized that, too. They were grinning now, because of course, all they had to do was not answer him. It was a draw.

The underground hero took a step closer. With the remote in his hand, he still had the advantage. "I'm guessing you can read lips?" he asked.

Silver eyes glanced down, then up again. They gave a disgruntled nod.

Good. Maybe he would get something out of them. "If I say I won't use my quirk on you, will you talk?" The villain snorted, and Shinsou couldn't help but grin. "Yeah, I wouldn't either if the roles were reversed."

They rolled their eyes and cocked a hip impatiently. Their expression screamed "how long are you going to do this?"

Shrugging, Shinsou took to circling them. Despite their frequent encounters, this was the first up-close look he'd gotten. They were smaller than him, slim and clearly athletic, but he already knew that much. The green cloak obstructed most of their body, though, and for the first time, he realized why that must be. There were no weapons under there, after all. Perhaps…

He came back around front and fixed them with a look. "Let me guess— non-binary?"

A flash of righteous indignation lit up their eyes, and they started to open their mouth, but he held up his hands.

(He would later curse the fact that he'd cut them off.)

"Pansexual, if you were wondering," he said. "I'm not judging you, it was just an observation."

The anger in that silver gaze lessened only slightly before they glanced away. There was movement— their hands, they were fidgeting. Black gloved fingers toyed with the cloak uncomfortably, drawing it in closer to them. Shinsou wondered if he crossed a line.

(Ironic how basically taking someone's quirk away wasn't crossing a line.)

As he circled them once more, this time finally noticing the swell in their chest they'd apparently been so desperate to hide, a thought occurred to him.

What if they didn't have the resources for the things they needed to feel comfortable?

Shinsou was no stranger to the difficulties of being LGBTQ+. He himself wasn't publicly out because, well…it just didn't matter much to him. The people he cared about knew (purple eyes, brown silky hair, and the smell of flowers rushed through his mind— he forced the memory out), and that was enough. It wasn't anyone's business who he was attracted to.

That being said…he was pretty sure the local help centers wouldn't cater to a villain, no matter how desperate they were.

A plan was already formulating in his head when he faced them again. "Still won't talk?" he tried. The answer he got was arms crossing again and a foot tapping.

Shinsou stepped back and pulled out the remote. "Okay." With that, he pressed the release button.

The hearing aids clattered to the rooftop, and Shinsou heard the sigh of relief. Fury returned to those silver eyes, mixed with a cocktail of pain, confusion, and disbelief. They edged away from him, as though they expected him to follow. He simply shrugged.

They dashed away into the night without another moment of hesitation. Shinsou didn't care. His mind was too busy racing with ideas.

Adding a new attachment to his utility belt hadn't been difficult, but it had drawn the eyes of several of his colleagues. Shinsou brushed them off like he always did. They didn't need to know.

Waiting to run into his midnight acquaintance again was the frustrating part. On the nights he waited on the rooftop, alone and staring up at the stars, he wondered if this time, he'd run them off for good. Whatever fragile trust their back-and-forth game had built, surely he'd broken it.

And yet, a week after their encounter, he is (pleasantly, oddly enough) surprised to see them standing on the top deck of an old rusted water tower, leaning against the rails almost expectantly.

When his scarf wraps around the railing, they don't move. Although they do, he noted with amusement, refuse to look in his direction. Petulant.

He pulleyed himself up. He didn't bother making his landing soft. They still stare resolutely out at the cityscape.

Shinsou unclipped the package from his belt, and silver eyes finally glanced sideways. The hero started to move forward. He stopped when he saw them begin to move back.

Instead, he lifted the package for them to see. They eyed it suspiciously. Sighing, Shinsou tossed it to them, giving them no option but to catch it.

He waited in dreadful silence as they unzipped it, doing so at an agonizingly slow pace that he knew was purposeful. And then, finally, recognition lit up their eyes.

They pull the binder out of the package, silver gaze darting up in question. Finally.

"I have friends that are similar," Shinsou burst suddenly. He didn't know why it felt like the quiet had been choking him. Usually he liked it. "I didn't know what size you would need, so I got a couple. Make sure you don't wear it too long, because, you know, breathing. Twelve hours is usually the recommended amount of time. There are a few LGBTQ+ centers around that could help, also, if you need anything else. They're all pretty familiar with me because I refer a lot of people, so if you go in and give my name, they'll be sure to—"

Aizawa placed a hand on his shoulder. "You're progressing, Shinsou. Why don't you see that?"

The second year student looked down, his frown growing deeper. "I'm still so far behind, sensei. All the work I put in…it's never enough to catch up with the rest of my class."

"Shinsou," his mentor mumbled, "Your classmates had a full year of proper training that you didn't. Some of them have even been training since they were children."

Shinsou had the decency to look ashamed at not thinking of that before, and he heard his teacher sigh. The hand slipped away, being replaced by a firm push toward the front door of the dorm.

"Go think it over, okay? But I wouldn't be teaching you if I didn't think you were worth my time."

Nodding, Shinsou took his dismissal and entered the dorm. The bright lights of the common room forced him to close his eyes for a second.

"SHIN-SHIN!"

When violet eyes cracked open again, their field of view was filled with the sight of his electric blond friend smiling from ear to ear.

"You're finally back!" Kaminari cheered. "I've been waiting forever— look, I have this new theory on Todoroki, and I think I finally have enough evidence to claim he's an alien—"

"I'm not," said dual wielder droned from twenty feet away.

The reply caught everyone else's attention, and soon there was a pair of bright green eyes landing on Shinsou.

"Oh, hey!" Midoriya greeted. There was a familiar notebook in his hand, open and scrawled with notes only Midoriya could decipher. "Once you're done talking with Kaminari, would you mind coming over here? I've been thinking over your quirk some more, and I have some ideas on how we could keep testing and strengthening your abilities!"

"Ah yes, that reminds me of our one-on-one session tomorrow," Momo spoke up, her hands clasping together.

Kirishima raised a hand. "Can I join?"

A couple other voices jumped in, and suddenly, a rush of warmth flooded Shinsou's heart. He still wasn't used to having…friends. As sad as it sounded, it just wasn't normal for him. Befriending someone who could force you to do whatever they wanted wasn't appealing to most people.

And yet here he was, his classmates discussing who would get to try each of Midoriya's ideas with him, all chattering excitedly and smiling like it was all fine because it was.

For a moment, Shinsou forgot his feelings of inferiority.

The underground hero gasped awake, finding himself thrown back into the present six years later. He blinked up at the stars groggily. He was right where he had been, on top of the water tower—

They were gone.

But so was the package.

Shinsou's brow furrowed as he got to his feet. Why did they give him a happy memory? As far as he could tell, they had control over what they made him see. So was that…

Was that supposed to be some strange attempt at a thank you?

They ducked into the second floor of an abandoned warehouse, breath still not really in their lungs. Immediately, they dumped the bag unceremoniously— giddily, they realized with a strange feeling churning in their stomach. They didn't let themselves linger on it for too long.

Multiple items (none of them designed to harm or capture, they noticed) fell out onto the grimy floor. As promised, there were binders of various sizes, all black and simple and seemingly perfect to go with their costume. There was also a handful of cards, each one for a different LGBTQ+ center within a few miles of this sector.

They stared at the business cards uncertainly for a few moments before tucking them away into a pocket.

Now on to the fun part— they didn't hesitate in dropping the cloak, then ripping off the mask. Short silver locks sprung free, and they sighed happily. Sometimes the mask just got too stuffy.

They zipped off enough of the body suit to nearly reveal their chest, then knelt down and picked through the binders. Finding one that they guessed looked about their size, they began working it on.

The second their chest flattened out, they felt tears stinging their eyes. It felt so…right. They felt like crying out of relief because wow, they'd never felt this normal before. They were finally how they knew they should be, and—

For the first time, they felt like they truly, actually belonged here in this world.

After they zipped the bodysuit back up, a flash of movement caught their attention. Through the broken window pane of the warehouse, they could see the strange hero lowering himself down from the water tower. He soon after disappeared into the night. Silver eyebrows scrunched together, and that uncomfortable feeling from earlier returned full force.

This whole thing was…confusing.

Who was this odd hero, this person who had made so many attempts at reaching out to them, but never capturing? For a while, it had been fun watching the hero get so frustrated, but then…then last week he'd seen right through them in a way people rarely did, and now, doing this, providing them with something so small but so big to make them feel okay, it—

They shuddered, frowning at the weird sensation coursing through them. It was unfamiliar, strange. It was something they shouldn't trust…even though, deep down inside, they knew they wanted to.

The mask went back on and the cloak returned to cover their body. They left the building silently, their next objective for the evening ahead of them. But their mind didn't leave that moment, the one where the hero had started chattering away like they just couldn't hold it back anymore—

Not for a long time.

Put in a little bit of our mystery villain's POV just to give you a taste of what they're thinking. And yes, there are going to be LGBTQ+ themes, so if you don't like it, well...too bad. Please review!