TRIGGER WARNING: Izuku's section features descriptions of a muzzle. Read with caution.

Chapter 9

.::New Discoveries Every Day::.

One of the biggest perks of attending UA was that the school handled all the more difficult parts of being a hero for its students.

That didn't mean it made becoming a Pro Hero easy. Students had to work hard each and every day, to the point they had a six-day school week as opposed to the more common five (though Saturday was only a half-day), along with expectations to continue working and training outside of class too. Falling behind could lead to fatal mistakes in the real world after all, so the school tried to weed out those who struggled to keep up as early as possible.

No, UA definitely didn't make classes easy for its future heroes. But it did take care of the second most important detail of being a hero: the gear.

The fact was, a Pro Hero was often only as good as their gear. Quirks alone could only do so much; they needed good support equipment to optimize their capabilities. Even the costumes were designed with how to best work with their Quirk and fighting style in mind, down to the methods used to actually put it on. Designing a cool-looking costume was easy enough, but making it fully functional and optimal? Not so much.

Denki knew this. He had already underestimated the importance of a good costume and support gear once, learning his lesson back at the USJ when he'd had no way to direct his electricity because he focused on aesthetic over function. Thankfully he'd survived in part due to Yaomomo's quick thinking, but he'd learned from his mistakes then. He put in a request for the Support Department, got sharpshooter gear and pointers, and overall came away from the incident with a greater appreciation for good support gear and costume design.

But now he realized he'd greatly underestimated one other factor: UA's role in providing that gear. Something Denki hadn't realized how much he should appreciate that until he found himself in a busy shopping district on a Saturday afternoon in another dimension shopping for parts for a ragtag vigilante costume.

"It'd be best if we got you some sort of armor, but stores don't really sell that," Hatsume said as they walked down the row of stores. The pink-haired inventor had taken lead on the impromptu shopping trip, babbling on about the necessary specs for their new gear and costumes. "It sucks, but we can't really buy stuff like Kevlar at a fabric store, and the government's cracked down on the sales of most of the other materials that can be used for villain or vigilante costumes. We can still get some of it, buuuut it'd be really pricey and we'd probably be put on a watch list."

"So you can't just, I don't know, make it yourself?" Denki piped up hesitantly. "I mean, I dunno what goes into making it, but you're pretty good at making stuff. And, like, didn't you have a suit of armor at your workshop?" He still hadn't gotten over their visit to her warehouse workshop that morning before going shopping.

"That baby's totally different!" Hatsume dismissed with a wave. "The armor parts are mostly just regular metal plating that I can reinforce and improve with my technical genius. It's way easier to get the raw materials for that. But when it comes to custom-made polymers I don't have the equipment to make any, or even access to the resources and chemicals I'd need. Besides, my specialty is building stuff, not designing costumes. I'm just here to make sure whatever you guys buy will work with my babies!"

"That's fine," Jirou said with a shrug. "I think we'll be trying to avoid close combat situations anyway. Our Quirks can be used in long-range attacks with the right gear so we should prioritize that and armor for close-range combat second." Hatsume's head swiveled to look back at her with a giant grin, her eyes flashing with a dangerous gleam that made Denki shudder.

"I knew you were smart!" she declared gleefully. "I can tell you and I are going to get along very well!" Turning back forward, she continued in a calmer tone, "But my glorious babies aside, the final costume design will be very important. Especially for vigilantes! The aesthetic is going to be key here."

"Seriously?" Denki asked, eying her warily. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I know functional costumes are really important—" again, he'd learned his lesson after the USJ, "—but, uh, aren't vigilantes supposed to avoid being recognized? Full-blown costumes seem kinda... the opposite of that."

He then proceeded to jump as Hatsume suddenly whirled around and leaned in his face, once again ignoring the existence of personal bubbles. "You are exactly right!" she confirmed with an almost feral glint in her eyes. "Vigilantes are huge targets, so you really can't risk being identified. And that means you can't just throw on a domino mask or visor and call it a day. You need to hide all identifying traits!"

Denki leaned back in attempt to get some space as she spoke, while next to him Jirou looked thoughtful. "Yeah, that's a good point," she muttered, glancing at him. "Like, Kaminari. Your hair sticks out too much."

"Wait, really?" he squawked, snapping his head to look at her in slight betrayal. "What do you mean it sticks out? It's blond and spiky! It's not like it's Quirk-related like that vine girl or Mineta!"

"But it has that black lightning bolt," Hatsume chimed in, finally stepping away and giving him space. "And your Quirk, Battery-kun, is electricity. Everyone at school knows that!"

"They do?" Denki squeaked. He didn't know why that'd be common knowledge, he didn't exactly flaunt his Quirk outside of classes at UA, so maybe she was just exaggerating—

"Well, duh! You're a living phone charger!" Oh, right. That made total sense. He got used as an emergency phone charger at UA too, makes sense he did that here. Denki noticed Jirou shooting him a smug smirk and shot her a brief glare, before frowning in sudden realization and whirling to face her.

"Well, in that case, what about you?" he pointed out almost frantically, jabbing a finger at her ears. "Your Quirk is all about your earphone jacks! It's not like there's a bunch of people out there with those." Jirou's smug look faded at his words, her expression growing more serious.

"No, you're right, that is a problem," she muttered, lightly gripping one and twirling it around her finger. "It stands out too much, and I can't really disguise them."

"Oh, don't worry, I already have ideas on how to handle that," Hatsume assured her with a grin. "That's why I'm here! To make sure your costumes will work with my babies exactly how I need them to!"

"I thought you said you didn't design costumes," Denki interjected weakly, and winced when Hatsume snapped another near-manic grin his way.

"I said my specialty is building inventions. I didn't say I can't design costumes! Making sure your costumes function exactly as needed is part of the inventing process, there's no point in you guys needing to replace your costumes because they get in the way of my babies working right!"

With that she whirled around and marched off down the street, the two hero students sharing a pointed look behind her. Neither of them missed how she'd prioritized her inventions over their costumes, but Denki figured he couldn't really argue with that. Hatsume was the inventor after all, and right now they did need to prioritize the equipment. Denki wasn't sure he trusted her to make the costumes look cool, but it's not like they planned to be stuck here forever. It'd be easier to let her take lead.

"Anyways, I hate to bring this up, but... what about the money?" he asked as he and Jirou followed after her. "I mean, I think I'm pretty broke since I'm in debt right now, and I don't think getting stuff from a thrift shop would cut it." He tried not to grimace too much as he spoke, and noticed Jirou mirror the expression as she glanced over at the stores.

"No, we need something sturdy and long-lasting," she muttered under her breath. "We can't trust that whatever we find at a thrift shop will be good enough to hold up under stress."

"Used stuff is not an option!" Hatsume called over her shoulder. "I refuse to let my babies come in contact with something so low-quality!"

"What's our budget?" Denki called back. "You're the designer, so—tell us how much!"

"Budget is up to you two! You guys are paying for your own stuff, so figure it out yourself so I can know what my limits are! Also, get cash, it's harder to trace!" She turned forward again and didn't see the pair grimace behind her, exchanging grim looks. Neither of them actually knew how much money they actually had. Since waking up they'd spent most of their time in Denki's apartment, only leaving once to buy some cheap bento lunches at a convenience store using whatever they had in their wallets.

They were high school students. It's not like they kept copies of their bank account information lying around their apartments.

Glancing around, Jirou's eyes soon zeroed in on something across the street. "Kaminari, do you have a debit card?" she asked and Denki frowned, pulling out his wallet to check its contents.

"Yeah, I do."

"Then let's go check our balances," she said, and grabbed his wrist to drag him across the street to an ATM. Since he'd already gotten out his wallet Denki went first, sliding his card in the slot and hoping the PIN code for his phone would work. Thankfully it did, the small screen changing to show a full menu, and he quickly jabbed the "check balance" button.

As he stared at the number he felt his shoulders sag in disappointment, a dejected groan slipping out. Pink appeared in his peripheral vision as Hatsume poked her head over his shoulder to look at the screen, her usual manic smile gone and replaced by an assessing look. "Wow, you're going to be in debt to me forever," she commented, and he didn't even have the energy to flinch at her proximity.

After that he quickly withdrew ten thousand yen, ignoring the uncomfortable twist in his gut as he thought about how much that cut into his remaining funds. Ten thousand was definitely a lot with how low his balance was, but it wasn't like they planned to stay here forever, and the stuff he'd buy today could be the difference between life and death. Yeah, it'd be better to not cheap out on it now. No point saving money when you're dead, right? Right?

...That didn't help as much as he'd hoped it would.

"My turn, I guess," Jirou said as he stepped away with a sulky air, pulling out her debit card with a tense set to her shoulders. She pushed it in the slot and tapped in a code, frowning when the screen told her it was wrong. Eyes narrowing in thought, after a few seconds she typed another one and released a small sigh as it worked and the menu appeared. She quickly hit the "check balance" button, and the others leaned over her shoulder curiously to look.

And look.

And look.

"...That's so many zeroes," Denki whispered, his face draining of color as he stared at the number displayed on the screen.

"That settles it, you're our primary sponsor!" Hatsume squealed, clapping her hands on Jirou's shoulders. "We're going to get real quality for this! Come on, get out some money and let's go-go-go!" The rocker-girl remained silent as the inventor bounced away excitedly, just staring at the screen with a rare dumbfounded expression. Denki frowned and glanced at her worriedly, perturbed by her rare break in character.

"Are, uh, are you okay?" he asked hesitantly.

"I'm freaking rich," Jirou said quietly, her tone blunt like usual but rendered oddly somber by how soft it was. "I could pay off your debt ten times over." Denki frowned as he looked at the stunned look on her face, glancing around at the largely empty sidewalk before stepping closer.

"It's... not like this back home, is it?" he asked lowly. Jirou just nodded slowly, not looking away from the screen.

"I know dad's a successful musician here," she said. "I saw all the album covers and the texts with him talked about him going on tour. But—I didn't think he was that successful."

"Wonder what was different here from our world," Denki wondered aloud. Jirou's lips tugged slightly downwards at that, her eyes losing some of their stunned glaze. After a moment she took a deep breath, schooling her expression to its usual look of disinterest as she went back to the menu and moved to the withdrawal screen. Hesitating only briefly, she jabbed in a 5 followed by four zeroes, her finger hovering above the screen for a moment before quickly jabbing submit.

Fifty thousand yen's worth of five thousand yen notes plopped into the dispenser one by one, and she swiped up the small stack and stuffed it in her wallet along with the card. "Come on, let's go," she said and turned to stalk after Hatsume, her expression cool and collected as usual. But even so Denki noticed the way her hands clenched at her side, her lips pressed together just a bit tighter than usual.

He frowned but remained silent as he trailed after her, knowing better than to press. Whatever was bothering her wasn't any of his business, at least not right now. They had bigger priorities at the moment.

Oddly enough, it took until day five of being in the alternate dimension for Seiko to finally appear again.

"You haven't slipped up yet," she intoned behind him while he was sitting at his desk on his laptop. Izuku jumped in surprise and whirled around in his seat wide-eyed to see the girl standing next to his bed.

"I—wha—how?" He stammered lamely as he stared at her, his eyes flitting between her and his closed bedroom door. "D-didn't I lock it?"

"Locks mean nothing," Seiko said flatly. Her face was blank as ever, her eerie luminescent white eyes conveying no emotion as she stared at him. Izuku swallowed, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck as he quickly averted his gaze from her.

"Uh, r-right... Okay then." He cleared his throat, daring a glance her way. "I haven't, uh, seen you around anywhere. Where... where have you been?"

"Watching." That... really did not comfort him.

It must be part of her Quirk, he thought. He knew her Quirk involved shadows in some capacity; during their first and only meeting she'd manifested an extra appendage from dark energy to close the slat on the door, and then she'd left by disappearing into the shadows. Maybe she could convert her body into a shadow? But something about that didn't feel quite right. Shadows weren't really corporeal after all, and that appendage had clearly been able to touch things.

Unfortunately, his Quirk Analysis notebooks didn't give him any clues. He'd scoured them for information on the rest of the League, figuring it would be useful both here and whenever he got home, but Seiko had been notably absent from them. It puzzled him since unlike Aiko who only appeared in conversations, his journals included brief mentions of her starting in the second one. Even those didn't help, just off-handed references to seeing her hiding or her passing on gossip or warnings.

He... really didn't know anything about Seiko, did he?

"No one has noticed you acting differently," she said, either oblivious to his growing unease or choosing to ignore it. "It's impressive. You might break the record."

"Uh, thanks, I guess," he muttered uncertainly, and paused before asking, "Wait, record? What's the old record?"

"Seven days." Seven days, huh? That didn't seem difficult. He'd already made it five, and Izuku had no intentions of slipping up in the next two days if he could help it. He frowned, rubbing his chin with his index finger as his eyebrows furrowed deep in thought.

"How... how long do these episodes usually last?" he asked.

"Around two weeks on average," Seiko informed him. "The longest one lasted forty-one days, the shortest three. For the record, you have yet to go an entire episode undiscovered."

"Right... Thanks." Izuku nodded, filing the information away. So there's no advantage to pretending to suddenly have amnesia now. The thought was maybe a little disappointing, but it didn't impact his plans; he'd already resolved to avoid that anyway. After spending five days here he'd started to adjust to being constantly around villains, as well as learned the lay of the building. If he tried to suddenly fake it now, his reactions and confusion wouldn't be as genuine as when he'd first woken up.

More importantly, though, his observations of his interactions with Shigaraki made it pretty clear to him that he wouldn't react well. The older male was definitely protective of him—which he still didn't quite understand—and if he thought Izuku was amnesic? He'd order a near-constant watch on Izuku until his memories returned.

That wasn't just speculation on his part. The journals described how he'd had to basically be followed by at least two villains until it ended, to the point he couldn't even sleep in his room alone. If he was under watch, Izuku's actions would be severely limited until his memories returned, and his chances of getting home would be that much lower.

The fact was, Izuku had no idea how he got here. He literally went to bed in his dorm room, and woke up the next morning in another dimension. Obviously this was the work of a Quirk, but he had no clue about how it worked. It's not like he'd ever heard of a Quirk like this—or at least, not on this scale. Right now he had only his own knowledge of Quirks in general to use as a basis for his speculation.

He was too worried about someone checking his notebooks to risk writing his theories down, so his thoughts were a jumbled mess so far. He had no idea what triggered it, but he figured there had to be some sort of limiter or conditions on it. Most likely it would either wear off naturally after a few days and he'd just wake up at home, or he'd have to fulfill some condition to return. He couldn't risk assuming the former to be true and just sit around waiting. But if he needed to do something to trigger it, he had no idea where to begin.

(Izuku firmly refused to consider the possibility the displacement was potentially permanent. There had to be a way to get home, if only for the sake of his sanity.)

Hence why he needed to be able to move freely. This world had several large differences from his own, but as far as he could tell the people mostly remained the same. A few had died and others had likely taken different allegiances (seriously, he found one listing Native as a villain—just, why!?), but at the very least he'd concluded their Quirks remained the same. Therefore, his best option would be to find the counterpart of whoever this Quirk belonged to, and ask them for details.

Which was... still a tall order. From what little he could glean online, people were highly paranoid about revealing their Quirks, and rightfully so. A few of the "new" faces in the Villain Alliance had been initially recruited through force and kidnapping, some of them quite young at the time—a method they'd originally planned to use on Bakugou too. Others had been killed if they'd been deemed too old to recruit. Izuku wondered if Seiko fell into that category—

And that suddenly reminded Seiko was still in the room. He startled as he snapped his head towards her, finding the girl still standing next to his bed. Staring.

Unblinking.

A small chill ran down his spine and he swallowed, pasting on a sheepish smile. "Uh, s-sorry, I think I spaced out for a second," he apologized.

"I could tell," she replied blandly. "You weren't mumbling this time though. That's rare."

"Huh, yeah. I guess it is, isn't it?" He internally sagged with relief at that, belatedly realizing just how disastrous that could be. Izuku knew he tended to mumble without noticing when he fell deep in thought, and if Seiko had overheard anything he'd been thinking about just now... well, he wasn't sure how he'd explain it.

I'll have to be careful not to think about this too much around others. Just thinking about it made him shudder. Izuku wasn't sure how Shigaraki would react to another dimension's Izuku replacing his own, and he'd rather not think about it.

"As I stated, no one else has noticed yet," Seiko said. "Your cold at the beginning gave you some leeway to deflect suspicion on your odd reaction time, and you're mostly following the same routine. You're a bit more quiet than usual, but the cold and your shock over Bakugou helps explain that. However, there is one crucial detail which may give you away."

"There is?" Izuku straightened up at that, his gaze growing intense as he frowned at her. "Tell me." He couldn't let anyone see through his act now. It was too late in the game to suddenly play the amnesia card, he couldn't fake any of his confusion anymore and more importantly he couldn't risk the scrutiny.

"How much have you read of the seventh journal?" Seiko questioned, and Izuku frowned.

"Only some of it," he admitted. "I read the most recent entries about Kacchan, but mostly skimmed the earlier parts." He'd been a bit uncomfortable reading over those entries, so he'd skimmed just enough to make sure there wasn't anything else urgent before focusing on combing through the older journals.

"Four weeks before Bakugou was detained, another teenager was captured," Seiko told him, her tone brisk and professional as if dictating a situation report. "He came to the Alliance's attention after using his Quirk to act as a vigilante, ultimately leading to three members being arrested. He refuses to share his name, and is being detained as a potential recruit or a future example."

As she spoke Izuku's stomach fell more and more, painfully twisting at the last part in particular. A future example. He didn't need to ask her to elaborate on what that meant, just listening in grim silence as she continued. "You were visiting him regularly to try to convince him to join peacefully. You got distracted by Bakugou's sudden arrival though, and it's been over a week since your last visit. The others will notice you've stopped soon and become suspicious."

"Where is he?" Izuku asked, determination already setting in. He didn't even care about deflecting suspicion this time. He'd found plenty of news stories about vigilantes who had gone missing only to resurface maimed and forever scarred—if they were even alive. He didn't want to see someone else suffer that fate, especially another teenager.

His thoughts seemed to show on his face, because Seiko inclined her head. "I'll show you the way." He nodded as he got up from the desk to walk to the door, unlocking it before tugging it open. The younger girl glided past him without so much as a glance his way, taking lead as Izuku followed in silence.

The walk was short and uneventful, encountering no other people in the halls. It was Saturday now, so most of the Alliance had left to "enjoy the weekend" despite not really having a job during the working week. Seiko led him down a series of turns he hadn't taken before, ending in an unfamiliar hall lined with solid steel doors. He swallowed as he glanced around, noting most had electronic number pads; it wasn't the same area with holding cells where Bakugou was kept, but he could tell this was no less a prison.

Seiko stopped at the mouth of the hallway, pointing at one of the doors. "He's in there," she told him. "The code is 8442. You'll have to manually lock it again when you leave. His Quirk isn't physical and is easy to neutralize, so he has more privileges than others. He knows basic hand to hand, but he won't attack you." Izuku couldn't tell if that was supposed to be reassuring or simply another basic fact, her tone and expression didn't really give any hints to her intent.

"Thanks," he mumbled, and took a deep breath as he walked towards the door, his heart pounding anxiously. This was different from everything else so far. He had no idea what to expect when he opened the door, no idea how he was expected to react. The person behind the door was a complete unknown. Clenching his fists, he lightly rapped on the door and waited a second before punching in the code and opening it, unsure what to expect but trying to brace himself for anything.

He thought he could handle it. He thought that nothing in there could take him by surprise. But he still was absolutely unprepared when he caught sight of messy purple hair, his heart sinking with chilling recognition as lilac eyes flitted his way.

Shinsou Hitoshi.

The teen was sitting sprawled on the bed towards the back with his knees half-bent, a book lying open against them. He looked almost casual and relaxed, wearing a plain blue t-shirt maybe a size too big and dark gray sweatpants. They were just slightly too short for his tall frame, allowing Izuku to glimpse a dark band around his right ankle with a flashing red light, but he barely noticed it, his eyes riveted to Shinsou's face.

He was wearing a muzzle.

Izuku's breath hitched at the sight, his blood running cold. He didn't know a better word for the metal contraption wrapped around Shinsou's jaw, surprisingly sleek and form-fitting so that it pressed against his face while leaving his nose uncovered. What truly made him feel sick was the lock built into the right side near the hinges, a key hole visible even from a distance.

As their eyes met Izuku couldn't speak, only stare in mute horror. His mind flashed back to Seiko's words—"His Quirk isn't physical and is easy to neutralize"—and he realized with a sickening chill how right she was.

The other boy's shoulders sagged and he set the book on the mattress, getting up to walk to a desk in the corner and pick up... a whiteboard? Izuku's stomach sank further as Shinsou uncapped a marker and began writing, turning the board to face him.

'What do you want now?'

It was a simple question, short and to the point. Izuku could almost hear Shinsou's deadpan voice saying it aloud as he read it, except he couldn't because of the muzzle and—

He banished the thought before it could spiral further, sucking in a sharp breath before forcing himself to speak. "I, I was worried," he stammered. "It's, uh, been a while, s-so I thought you might be bored, or..." He trailed off as the other boy snorted, the sound muffled by the metal thing covering his mouth, and flipped the whiteboard to write something else. Once he finished he turned it back to Izuku to read, his eyes perfectly flat and cold.

'It's been a week since you last visited. Are you back because you're finally bored again?'

Reading those words sent an icy spike of guilt through Izuku, the green-haired boy swallowing harshly as he nearly winced. I didn't know you were here, he wanted to say, but the words died well before they could reach his tongue. Instead, he shook his head and said, "N-no, that's not it! I... I got caught up in something, s-so I couldn't come by for a while. I'm... I'm sorry." Even as he spoke he could feel tears well in his eyes, his voice wobbling as he stared at Shinsou with his hands shaking at his side.

He didn't know.

He didn't know Shinsou was there. He hadn't realized there'd been anyone besides Kacchan there until Seiko told him—except, that wasn't true, was it? With another sudden drop in his stomach he abruptly recalled the letter he'd read the first day, and the list of current events tacked on the end. One of the last ones had mentioned another prisoner who made him uncomfortable. "I feel bad about how everyone's treating him, but I might be able to be friends with him if he can warm up to me." That had been what his other self had written, but Izuku had forgotten all about it after seeing the final note about Kacchan.

Shit. Izuku's guilt multiplied at the realization he'd totally forgotten about it. The note even said to check his journal for information on the prisoner, but he'd just skimmed the journal enough to make sure he had a basic overview of the situation. Maybe if he had actually taken time to read it, not just look for basic names, he would've seen the clues about Shinsou's identity—or at least thought to check on him.

He swallowed, his shoulders hunching with shame as he looked at Shinsou. "I-I'm sorry," he repeated weakly, sniffling in a vain attempt to prevent himself from crying. "I'm s-so sorry." Shinsou's expression was near impossible to read, the task made even more difficult with the muzzle obscuring his mouth, but he thought (hoped) he saw something soften in the other boy's eyes before he turned the board around to write some more.

'You're here now. What do you want?'

Izuku wasn't sure if the question was meant to be cold and irritable, or some sort of attempt at a peace offering. Either way it didn't matter though. He sniffled and quickly rubbed his eyes with his arm, but it did little to stem the tears. He took a shuddery breath as he crossed the room, Shinsou automatically stiffening and looking alarmed and wary by his approach, but before he could react Izuku threw his arms around him.

The taller boy staggered back at the sudden weight, his back bumping against the desk and the white board dropping to the ground with a clatter. His arms hovered awkwardly at his sides as Izuku just hugged him tight, tears streaming down his face. "I don't know," he choked out. "I don't know. I don't know. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I don't know, I didn't know, I didn't know, I'm so sorry..."

As he continued rambling and crying he felt Shinsou stiffen in his embrace before hesitantly reaching a hand to awkwardly pat his back. That just made Izuku cry harder, tightening his hold as more guilt washed over him.

From the shadows in the corner of the room a pair of glowing white eyes watched in silence before blinking shut and vanishing altogether.

Here's one of the characters I've been waiting to show for a while: Shinsou. His Quirk is just too valuable to go unnoticed and it was a matter of time before he got targeted, but hey, at least he got to be a vigilante and take down some bad guys before his inevitable capture. The hero dream's still alive.

That said, he's definitely in a bad place compared to almost everyone else in this universe. I actually wrote up what happened when he first woke up, and let's just say his stay has been unpleasant. No torture or anything, but still pretty dang traumatic until Izuku showed up. Unfortunately, the muzzle won't be removed for a while yet. But don't worry, Izuku's going to get it off him eventually.

Thanks for reading! See you next Monday!