Chapter 40

.::Paths to Hope::.

Six months.

It had been six months since Shouta went missing.

That number ran through Hizashi's mind on repeat as he sat in the passenger seat of the police car, heart pounding anxiously as he stared out the window. The ride to Nabu had been long and anxious, leaving him wishing he'd had a speed or teleportation Quirk instead of his Voice. He couldn't trust himself to drive in his current state, couldn't even bring himself to turn on the radio, leaving him with nothing to distract himself from his thoughts.

After six long months they'd finally gotten a lead on Shouta, and he'd never been filled with so much hope and heartbreak all at once.

The car pulled to a stop and Hizashi couldn't get out fast enough, darting past the police tape and into the empty husk of the building. Even before he went inside the smell of iron and rot reached him, his stomach churning at the overwhelming stench of death. His heartbeat picked up its pace as he covered his nose with a grimace, forcing himself to slow down as he made his way inside to avoid messing with the crime scene.

Blood splattered the walls around him, long since dried but still ominously dark, officers busy taking pictures of scattered body parts. Enough time had passed for decomposition to start to set in, and Hizashi almost retched as he saw organs scattered in dried pools of blood. Whatever happened here had been brutal, a one-sided massacre with no mercy. The only saving grace was that the winter chill slowed down the decomposition process so the stench wasn't overwhelming; if it had been the height of summer...

He grimaced and forcefully pushed the thought aside, pausing to talk to a couple of passing officers. They pointed him to the stairs and he thanked them before hurrying off, willing himself to ignore the bloodshed around him. Soon enough he was walking down a cold, dark hall, the broken windows giving the bare walls and tile floor an especially creepy vibe. Sir Nighteye stood near the center of the corridor beside an empty doorway, bright fluorescent lights shining from within.

The green-haired Pro nodded at Hizashi as he approached, face stoic as usual. "Present Mic, you made good time."

"I couldn't exactly sit around after getting that call," Hizashi grumbled as he stopped next to him. He frowned as his eyes flitted to the doorway. "Is that...?"

"That's where he was held," Sir Nighteye confirmed with a nod, and Hizashi's frown deepened. He took a breath and steeled his nerves before taking the final step forward so he could look inside.

The room in the doorway was bare. Concrete floors and walls, only a single lightbulb hanging from the ceiling and no furniture besides standing lights brought in by police. The lights clearly illuminated metal chains attached to one wall—the length trailing to the ground and broken—and dark brown stains scattered around the floor. The sight made his hands clench at his sides, his breath quietly catching. He had no doubts who that blood belonged to.

Lady of the Night crouched in the center of the room, her eyes closed and her hands pressed against the floor almost delicately, but she still noticed his arrival. "He was in here for a long time," she said in lieu of greeting, not bothering to open her eyes. "I can't give an exact estimate, but Eraserhead's left a heavy emotional imprint on this room."

"That's bad, isn't it," he said, not even bothering to phrase it as a question. He knew a bit about how her psychometry worked, that she could pick up on the emotions left by people. If Shouta had left a strong impression, then he'd probably spent the majority of the past six months in this very room, being tortured and who knows what else.

Lady of the Night hummed softly, opening her eyes. Her pupils had a bright golden glow, indicating her Quirk was active as she stared at the ground. "He wasn't tortured constantly, I can say that much. There's just as much boredom mixed in with the pain. I've been sorting through the impressions for the past hour, and the tedium seems to be more common recently. They likely got bored of torturing him at some point, and decided to just keep him as a trophy."

The nonchalance of the statement made Hizashi's stomach churn, his teeth grinding. Maybe he should be relieved to know that Shouta hadn't been tortured constantly for the past six months, but that didn't remove the horror of the situation. To be completely isolated, kept in an empty room with nothing to occupy himself other than dread for when the torture might resume again—that was just as bad, if not worse.

It made his heart ache for his best friend, any relief at the news Shouta had been alive this whole time overshadowed by grief and horror.

When it came to underground heroes, there was a certain unspoken rule:

After an underground hero is missing for three months, they were considered dead—and wanting them to still be alive was selfish and cruel, because they were better off dead.

Outsiders might find that belief cold and callous, but the fact was that sometimes death was the better option. Pro Heroes got captured all the time, it was a normal risk in their profession, especially for underground heroes who tended to mix with the shadier parts of society. However, usually the villains responsible for the disappearances didn't bother keeping a captive hero around for very long. Keeping someone alive took time and resources that could be better spent on other ventures.

If someone decided to keep a Pro Hero prisoner beyond three months, then that meant they either had a very specific use for that individual, or they had a very powerful grudge. Either way, that guaranteed the hero in question a special type of hell.

Hizashi knew this. He had been told all of this the first time Shouta had been captured for an extended period of time, nine years ago now. After two weeks, one of the senior heroes at his agency and one from the agency where Shouta worked had sat him down to explain to him just how bad it could be. They wanted him to understand that even after just two weeks Shouta would almost certainly have some serious trauma, and each passing day just increased those odds.

Back then, Shouta had been missing for a little under a month before they'd finally found him. His rescue had been considered a miracle by underground standards, escaping captivity with no physical scars or damage to show for it beyond general weakness from being restrained for so long. Even so, it had still taken two months for Shouta to recover mentally from the ordeal enough to stop having night terrors. It had taken another month before he finally returned to the field, and nearly a full year before he could finally feel safe in an apartment alone.

Even now Hizashi still had no idea what happened during that time his friend had been missing, but given the timing and some changes he'd noted, he had suspicions that made his stomach churn to just think about.

For that reason, he knew it was cruel to have hoped his best friend might be alive this whole time. That last time had been unique in itself, sparing his friend from physical scars even if he had emotional trauma. This time would be absolutely different though, the length of time guaranteeing that Shouta's captors either wanted him dead... or wanted him to suffer.

And now that he'd confirmed his best friend wasn't a corpse, that meant the latter.

"Where is he now?" he asked, his voice hollow as he forced himself to keep it calm. Honestly he'd love nothing more than to scream his frustration and grief to the world, but he knew this wasn't the time or place. He needed to focus, get as much information as possible.

"As far as we can tell, the Villain Alliance took him," Nighteye answered in Lady of the Night's place, drawing Hizashi's attention. The older Pro still stood in the hallway behind him, his golden eyes sharp as Hizashi turned to look at him with a sinking stomach. "We've already identified much of the violence as handiwork of the Alliance. As far as we can tell, they came to wipe out the group here." He nodded at the frame of the doorway, adding, "There used to be a door here. Shigaraki Tomura used his Quirk to disintegrate it."

"He also used it to dissolve the chains attached to the wall," Lady of the Night interjected almost lazily, and Hizashi whirled to find she'd moved next to the wall. Her eyes still had that glow as she held the broken end of the chain, her gaze distant as if in a trance. "This chain was longer and attached to a metal collar. Shigaraki dissolved it to remove Eraserhead."

The heroine closed her eyes and gave a soft sigh, her head tipping back to blindly face the ceiling. "They didn't kill him on the spot, so we can assume they don't intend to kill him anytime soon though. I can't tell why Shigaraki took him though. Eraser's emotional imprints overshadow any impressions he or the other villains might have left in this room, and they weren't thinking of him beforehand. All I know for sure is that he's probably alive."

She let the chain links slip through her fingers, clattering to the ground softly at her feet while Hizashi just watched numbly. He had no idea how to react to this news, how he should feel. Shouta was alive, but he was far from safe. They had no idea what the Villain Alliance could desire from him, why they'd go through the trouble of kidnapping him again.

Hizashi only knew one thing:

He would find Shouta, no matter how long it took.

Kas tapped his fingers along the table as he stared down at his phone, his gaze critical as he reread the messages. Saki had texted him about a tip-off to a brutal massacre in a supposedly abandoned building in Nabu, which had led to some interesting revelations about the Villain Alliance. She'd given him a steady string of updates of the investigation—all coded, of course, in case someone got their hands on their phones or the messages—listing each discovery up until her last message.

'Found traces of Eraserhead. Alive, but missing. Need to focus.'

That had been over an hour ago, and since then Saki had been silent. It made sense, Eraserhead had been missing for over half a year so getting any information she could would take priority. The number of missing heroes who'd been found alive after the three month mark could be counted on two hands, it was almost a miracle. If he was absent, then the Alliance must have taken him.

"Hah, what a bad day to be stuck on babysitting duty," he muttered to himself with a sigh. Even if his Quirk and skillset wouldn't be very helpful in this case, he'd love nothing more than to go over to the building and join her in searching the premises. At the very least they could bounce ideas off each other, try to piece together what could have gone through the Alliance's minds to steal Eraserhead.

Instead he was stuck here in Kamino though, watching over Ashido and Kirishima's apartment building. His eyes flicked out the window of the café where he'd set up camp, lazily studying their respective windows. Today had been quiet, which was par for the course so far. In this case, quiet was good because that meant there was no danger to his two charges, but that didn't make it less boring.

Yesterday had been surprisingly eventful, their friends Anjou and Kirameki showing up for an unexpected visit mid-day after school got canceled early. They'd stayed for a majority of the day, leaving just before dinner, and Kas idly wondered what they'd been doing. They still hadn't gotten a chance to interview the two thanks to Tsukauchi's own busy schedule, so he'd ask about it then.

Movement on the sidewalk caught his eye, and his gaze lazily flicked towards it to quickly assess the source. A man with curly light green hair was walking along, shoulders hunched and gaze flicking around. Kas shifted and sat a bit straighter as he watched, absently noting a distinct wariness to the man's movement. Cautious and looking if anyone is watching. Could have malicious intent, or just general nervousness or paranoia.

Coming to a stop, the man pulled out a small silver orb from the pocket of his pants and Kas instantly surged to his feet, eyes widening. Oh, shit—

The man threw the orb at the ground and smoke exploded from it, pale green gas immediately spreading from it. Cries of alarm sounded from other people sitting near the windows, but Kas ignored it as he raced down to the first floor of the café, mind already whirling as he darted to the front door while slipping into Oracle-mode.

If I open it and run outside, what will happen?

Flashes of himself gasping and coughing assaulted his brain, startled gasps echoing in the distance. Oracle stopped next to the door and reached into the pocket of his coat to pull out a black facemask with two thin, disk-shaped valves near the mouth. He pulled it over his face and reached for the handle, looking over his shoulder at the people behind him.

"Everyone get upstairs, NOW!" he ordered, his tone leaving no room for questions. To their credit everyone evacuated immediately, either because they realized he was a probable hero or because the mask made them think the opposite. The reason didn't matter, and this time when he grabbed the handle he didn't see any flashes of himself gasping for air.

He ran out into the street and straight to the ever-growing cloud of green. Visibility was low but he could hear some of the pedestrians coughing and hacking, and he quickly weighed his options. What if I try to rescue them?

To his right was a man with some sort of mammalian mutation, doubled over and hacking violently. Upon approaching him, Kas saw the man's still-hazy form startle and his tail swing out at his legs blindly on reflex. The tail had some sort of barbs on the end, and the feeling of them piercing the material of his pants and digging into his legs was accompanied by a faint burning sensation.

That would only happen if Oracle went right though.

Going left, Kas would find a coughing woman pulling a gas mask from her purse. "Well that's convenient," he remarked as he approached, startling as she whirled to face him. "Any reason you have a mask?" The woman hacked for a few seconds as she secured the mask to her face.

"I should be asking you!" she managed, and began turning knobs so it would begin filtering out any gas currently trapped inside.

"I'm a Pro Hero who grew up with a poison-loving sister," Kas retorted casually as he watched her gasp for breath. "What's your excuse?" She shot him a glare, clearly unimpressed by the answer but responding nonetheless.

"My nephew has a gas-based Quirk he's still learning to control. I always keep the mask in my purse in case he has any slip-ups."

A reasonable explanation, and that vitrol in her tone wasn't fake. So going after her was pointless. If Kas ran further in the specific direction she'd head, he'd find one more person, who the woman would inevitably reach and be able to guide to safety. But what if I go to the other voice in that direction?

This time Kas would find a coughing woman being supported by a young man who had absolutely no reaction to the gas. Upon getting closer the man would look at him in alarm. "I'm a Pro Hero," Kas introduced, and the man nodded.

"I'm fine. I have a Quirk that lets me filter the air and most gases without getting harmed, so I'll get her out of the gas! But listen—this gas is harmless!"

"Oh?" Kas hummed in interest. "And how do you know that?"

"I'm a chemist at Detnerat! I work specifically with gas-based Quirks, so I've become really sensitive to the effects and can usually guess what kinds different gases can have when breathing it. I'm not feeling anything wrong with my body right now beyond the usual smoke inhalation. Either the effect's incredibly delayed or it's harmless, and my gut's saying the second one!"

And with that, Oracle could stop worrying about the rest of the pedestrians. The man could be wrong about the effects, and smoke inhalation was still bad, but if it posed no immediate harm, then for now he decided to focus on the culprit. Less than a minute had passed since seeing the culprit throw down the smoke bomb, meaning he was almost certainly still in the area. So Kas changed mental gears to search for the culprit, resolved to ignore the coughing around him.

If I go straight? He'd avoid any pedestrians and smack into a wall. If he veered a little to the side in either direction, more wall. Going left past the coughing mammalian man, he'd find another pedestrian, and beyond them the edge of the cloud. Opposite direction—screw it.

He scoffed, deciding to stop with his Quirk for now and retreat. The gas obscured his vision too much, and he'd have better luck from a different vantage point where he could see clearly even if his Quirk wouldn't be as effective. He'd gotten a pretty good visual of the culprit—light green hair, purple shirt—so it would be easier to look from above.

A total of three seconds had elapsed since entering the gas before Oracle emerged, running straight to the alley between the café and the neighboring building. He grabbed the edge of a dumpster to flip himself on top of it, and from there he leaped towards the wall. A powerful kick had him ricocheting to the opposite wall and then kicked back towards the first, and within a few seconds he'd bounced between them to reach the rooftop.

From here he had a much better visual of the cloud below, already able to see people staggering out of the mess. As he scanned the street intently a flash of light green caught his eye, and he snapped his head to the side to see a male in a purple shirt not far from the outer edge of the gas. Aha.

Oracle wasted no time in rushing over to the man's direction, leaping off the edge to land next to him. The man jumped at his sudden appearance and spun to stare at him in shock, eyes bulging. "Wh-what the hell—"

He didn't get a chance to finish before Oracle lunged—unfortunately for him though, there happened to be a good Samaritan nearby. "Leave him alone!" a rather large and bulky woman cried, throwing herself at him. He let out a startled squawk as he was tackled to the ground, the woman more muscle than feet.

In the present Oracle startled, whirling to face her before she could do anything. "Ma'am, I'm a Pro Hero," he assured her quickly—except as he did, he noticed a distinct red tinge to her eyes while she was already charging at him again.

"Liar!" she roared, charging at him, and Oracle cursed as he was tackled in yet another path. This time he was facing her, so he got a good whiff of something clinging to her.

"You have GOT to be kidding me!" he shouted back in the present once more, and jumped to the side to dodge the woman's charge. His original target took the opportunity to run, but Kas had to ignore him to focus on the woman.

He knew that smell, it was some kind of drug that had become popular on the streets recently. It didn't do anything like enhance Quirks or make them more aggressive or anything special like that. No, people high on it tended to be more likely to engage in fantasies and become unable to distinguish it from reality, earning it the nickname "Liquid Dream."

The facts: There was a cloud of gas with unknown effects and origin. Oracle currently had on a black face mask that had filtering properties. He had also just jumped down from a rooftop right next to a man who was clearly the subject of his interest, and prepared to lunge at him.

Yeah. In her eyes he was absolutely a villain that needed to be taken down, and there'd be no reasoning with this woman.

He growled in frustration as he skipped back to dodge a powerful swipe from the woman aimed at his jaw. First priority: subdue her, and THEN pursue the fleeing culprit. Lucky for him, his Quirk made it easy to see every single blow before they landed, and even without it he'd honed his reflexes for years. To any outside observer he was always just a step ahead of her, smoothly stepping just outside the reach of every desperate kick and punch.

Most of them Oracle was able to predict and dodge without his Quirk. This lady wasn't a trained fighter at all, telegraphing her moves clearly and sloppily. Even so sometimes she'd get lucky and his Quirk would automatically give him a glimpse of her making contact, and he had to wince at the force he felt in some of those glimpses. While she might not be trained to fight, she still had plenty of physical strength.

He let her push him back a bit towards a wall at which point he spun and ran at it, making her roar and chase after him. His momentum let him manage a few steps vertically up the bricks, managing to get halfway up before kicking off and flipping through the air. As he sailed over the woman she roared in outrage, but her own momentum was too strong to stop and she crashed into the wall.

Oracle landed behind her gracefully, and quickly pulled a pair of handcuffs from his pocket. The woman was dazed from the impact, and he had no problem securing her hands behind her back. Luckily the impact seemed to have jarred some of the drug's effects—that or left her too sore to move, since she didn't immediately rile up to attack him again. "Call the police!" he shouted at a nearby pedestrian, and then took off running after the original culprit.

By now the man had enough time to run and turn a couple corners, which would push the limits of his Quirk if he tried to pursue it. He stopped short at the intersection, seeing no trace of the man in any direction, and took a deep breath.

"Did anyone see a guy in a purple shirt and with green hair?" he shouted, startling the gathering crowd who'd been drawn by the clamor from the gas. Soon enough some people started yelling and pointing down a particular street, and Oracle took off running in the direction they'd pointed. This time he didn't bother with his Quirk, darting to the nearest intersection and glancing both directions as he did.

In a stroke of luck he saw the man ducking into a door, and a vicious grin took residence on his face under the mask as he raced after him. He burst into a small convenience store, startling the people inside including the green-haired man who was halfway to the counter. The man whirled around to face Oracle, eyes wide, and Oracle began to approach only to stop.

If he lunged at the man and pinned him down—

"I-I didn't do anything, I swear!" the man cried as Kas shoved his face into the tile.

"That's what they all say," he snapped in response.

"Really, I d-d-didn't! I-I-I—I—" His breathing picked up and he began hyperventilating, falling into the starts of a panic attack.

If he didn't lunge and just asked—

"What were you doing at the street near the gas cloud?"

"I-I—I—" The man made a strangled sound, tears in his eyes as his breathing began picking up once more. Hyperventilating would follow very soon after that.

If he asked the cashier—

"Do you know this man?"

"Why the hell would I tell you?" the cashier demanded, obviously suspicious.

Oracle scowled and tore off his mask. If NOW he just said—

"I'm a Pro Hero," he snapped, tone cool and professional. "Do you know this man?"

"Wh-what? Uh—Yutaro, why is this guy chasing you?" The cashier turned to the man in question and the glimpse ended there, because Kas couldn't see paths that didn't include direct reactions to him or his decisions. Everything he saw had to be directed at him specifically or it would cut off abruptly. He almost growled in frustration, but instead if he just asked—

"Does this man have a history of panic attacks?"

"W-what!? Uh, no, but—Oh shit, Yutaro—!"

If he asked—

"I'm a Pro Hero. Does this man have any medical conditions?"

"Uh, w-what!? I mean, uh, y-yeah? Asthma, and—"

Asthma.

Oracle cut off his Quirk at that word, the tension bleeding from his body all at once as he took a deep, calming breath. "Sir, if you have an inhaler, you need to get it out now," he told the panicked man—Yutaro, apparently—in front of him. "Running that hard is about to trigger your asthma." Yutaro's eyes widened before he scrambled to find the device in his pockets, the cashier letting out an alarmed shout as he rushed around the counter to him.

Asthma. This man had asthma. That wasn't enough to absolve him of all potential guilt, but releasing a smoke bomb like that would definitely trigger an attack. He waited for Yutaro to take a deep breath through the inhaler while the cashier fussed over him, the second man shooting Oracle a panicked and accusing look. "What the hell's going on!?"

"Just now, a man with light green hair and a shirt just like that released an unknown gas on a nearby street," Oracle intoned calmly. That made the cashier startle, eyes going wide as he ogled him.

"Wait, what? And what, you think it was Yutaro? Did you even see—"

"I did," Oracle cut in calmly. "As I said, the culprit had that exact shirt." That seemed to leave the cashier at a loss for words. Next to him Yutaro lowered the inhaler, his breathing calmer and steadier now.

"I-I, earlier a guy with hair just like mine paid me to wear this shirt and follow him," he said slowly, and that got everyone's attention.

"What?" the cashier asked dumbly. "The heck—"

"I-I swear, I didn't know he was planning to do something l-like that!" Yutaro exclaimed, looking at Oracle pleadingly. "He said he was going to pull a prank on his b-brother, make him think I was him so he could sneak up and surprise him. He went around a c-corner to hide, but then I heard a b-bang and people sc-screaming, and when I went to look I saw that g-giant c-cloud, a-an-and—"

"Stop, you're working yourself up too much," Oracle cut in, and Yutaro clamped his mouth shut. He continued to stare at Oracle wide-eyed, silently begging him to believe him.

If he rushed forward and attacked the guy, pulling out the knife in his pocket and slashing it through Yutaro's side—

"Tell me the truth NOW or I'll kill you!"

"I-I AM!" Yutaro screamed over the panicked shouts of everyone else as he clutched the bleeding wound. "I TH-THOUGHT IT WAS JUST A PRANK!"

Oracle didn't attack of him of course. Doing that would be unethical, and the opposite of what a hero should do. A civilian like that had incredibly low pain tolerance, and would lack the willpower and training to hold up under questioning in such extreme circumstances.

Which meant he was telling the truth.

Oracle scowled, shaking his head. "I need you to come with me to make a report to the police," he said. "There are likely other witnesses who saw the person who looked like you, so I'll escort you to avoid any confusion. I'm a Pro Hero, so I can help you talk to them." The guy looked fairly panicked but nodded nonetheless, and soon they were heading back to the scene of the crime.

By now the gas had surprisingly dispersed, courtesy of one officer who looked very happy as he basically suctioned it up with his mouth. "He, uh, has a kind of vacuum Quirk," another officer commented sheepishly when they approached him. "He said the gas is actually pretty harmless, unless you have breathing difficulties like asthma." Another point to Detnerat guy, Oracle noted with an amused snort.

From there, sorting out the incident took little time. He helped Yutaro explain his story, the man much calmer now and able to provide more detail. The true culprit had approached him about a prank on his brother apparently, noting their similar hairstyles. He happened to have two matching shirts in his bag, explaining he'd ordered one online but had gotten a second one and that he'd been on his way to the store to return it when he'd noticed Yutaro.

Agreeing to that sort of plan was beyond stupid in Kas's opinion, because the story was so obviously fake. Maybe that was more obvious to him because he was naturally paranoid, or maybe it was obvious to everyone and the five thousand yen the man offered had clouded Yutaro's judgment. Either way, Yutaro agreed to go to the police station to give a more proper statement there, and Kas waved the cruiser off before turning to the apartment building.

As exciting as this had been, Kas still had a job to do here. He'd acted because there were no other heroes in the area, but now that he'd taken care of it, he should check on the two kids in the apartment building. No doubt they were curious as hell after seeing all the commotion just outside their windows... except when he looked at their rooms, the blinds on the windows were still closed.

The sight made him pause, his eyes narrowing. Plenty of other people leaned against the glass to peer outside, and still more windows were empty but had their curtains and blinds pulled aside when they'd been closed earlier. Yet Kirishima and Ashido's windows remained unchanged. Everything he'd read about Ashido Mina, and their few interactions so far, pointed to her to be the curious type who'd absolutely look outside the window in this sort of scenario...

"Shit," he whispered in English, and raced into the building. Any passing pedestrians with a mind-reading Quirk would probably be stunned at the litany of curse words playing in his head in multiple languages as he dashed up the stairs, running straight to Ashido's apartment. When he grabbed the doorknob he found it locked of course, and he didn't hesitate to kick it down.

"Ashido!" he shouted, but was greeted with only silence. A panicked glance around the room ended with him staring at a note taped to the fridge, something that hadn't been there on Sunday, and he practically flew over to look at it.

'Oracle-san, I'm sorry but my people need me! Kiri's coming too! We'll explain someday, I swear, but for now this is goodbye! Ashido, over and out!'

Kas stared at the note in dead silence for several seconds.

If he punched in the fridge—

His arm would break, but it'd be cathartic as hell.

Anjou might be an evil genius or something. Mina practically vibrated with excitement as she and Kiri raced down a street, carrying bags loaded with all the essentials for their adventure. They had escaped through the back door of the apartment building only a minute earlier, and every second they ran made Mina's pulse beat faster and faster. She had a burner phone open to a text message from Anjou.

'Your ride's almost there,' she wrote. 'Once it pulls up, you two just need to hop in the back & GO. The driver knows where to go. I'll catch up later when I'm done on my end.'

'Thanks!' she texted back, and told Kiri, "She says the ride's up ahead!" Kiri nodded and shifted nervously as he glanced over his shoulder.

"Is this really okay?" he asked, and Mina had to silently wonder the same thing. Behind them they could hear people shouting and coughing, and Mina had to resist the urge to run back to see what was going on. They had been waiting by the back door for Anjou to give the signal to go, so they didn't know what sort of distraction she had arranged out front.

She bit her lip and said, "An-chan says it won't be anything actually serious." Anjou had texted them about it before giving the signal to run. She said she didn't know the full details of the distraction, but it wouldn't be anything harmful. Still, Mina found herself frowning. "If you want to back out now, you can. I won't hold it against you." She glanced back to shoot Kiri a reassuring look as she spoke, and he bit his lip but frowned before shaking his head.

"No. I—I'm in too deep now. If I've come this far, I might as well keep going. Plus Ultra, right?" He flashed a weak, uncertain smile at the last bit, which Mina mirrored with an eager grin of her own.

"Plus Ultra!" she agreed with a fist pump. The fact he'd insisted on coming along still threw her for a loop, and made her even more excited even if she felt a little guilty. This didn't really involve him after all, and by coming along he'd be giving up way more than Mina was. By running away with her now, he was basically removing any outs to go back to his normal life.

As bad as she felt about him basically uprooting his whole life for this though, part of her felt relieved he was coming along. Having someone else tag along boosted her confidence, even if he wasn't her Kirishima. Anjou couldn't come, saying she had some stuff to do and needed to go to school to avoid suspicion. In her own words, she couldn't uproot her life just for this or it'd make it harder to do what she needed to.

Honestly, Mina still had no idea what the heck Anjou had planned. She'd kept it mostly to herself in case Kiri changed his mind, and maybe that should worry her, but... Mina trusted her. That little voice in the back of her head said that An-chan was a good person, and wouldn't do something that'd hurt them (even if she was a sneaky hacker).

The phone buzzed with a text. 'He's stopping, turn left at the next corner.' Mina turned the corner as instructed to an empty side street, just in time to see a silver car pull up to the curb. The window rolled down as Mina and Kiri raced towards it, a plain-looking guy with short black hair and kinda tired eyes looking out. "I'd ask if you're the ones I was told needed a ride, but I doubt many people have pink skin."

That was good enough confirmation for Mina. She practically dove into the back seat at the man's invitation, pushing herself all the way to the far seat while Kiri followed her. The man rolled up his window and twisted his head slightly to look back at them while they removed their backpacks. "Buckle up, we can't go until you do."

The teens scrambled to do just that, settling their backpacks on the empty seat between them. As Mina plugged in her buckle she glanced at the driver with narrow eyes. "You're not, like, a villain or something, right?" she asked warily.

The young man snorted as if she'd just said some joke while Kiri's eyes practically bulged from their sockets. "Wait, what!?" he yelped. "Oh crapcrapcrap—"

"Bit late to ask that, don't you think?" the driver asked with a wry grin, turning to face forward. "Well you can relax, I'm not a bad guy. If you're really worried, you can use that phone to call the police at any point. Please don't though, I'd rather not get arrested," he added with a half-hearted laugh.

At that point the car lurched into motion, making them both jolt in their seats. Mina relaxed a bit because the guy had a point, she could easily call the police if he did anything shifty. Plus if anything happened, An-chan and Kumiko knew they were riding with this guy and could call the police instead. "Uh, okay?" Kiri said anxiously. "Can you at least tell us who you are and what's going on? Anjou didn't tell us much about the plan."

"Well, I don't know much either," the driver said with a sheepish-sounding laugh. "I'm just doing this as a favor for someone else, I've only met Anjou once so I don't know much more than you. But my name is Haimawari Koichi, and I'll be your chauffeur until we reach Odawara."

Got more fan art from Isaac7568/endlessshinsou on Tumblr! This time of Aiko! Go check out my tumblr (cannibalisticapple, same as here) and look at the fan art tag for it!

So much to talk about! I've been telling people about my headcanon about the "Three Month Rule" since Aizawa's disappearance was first established (muahaha?), so good to finally show it here!

Here's the first view of Kas/Oracle's Quirk: Precognitive Reflex! No where near as strong or long-range as Sir Nighteye's Quirk, but still very useful and makes him look psychic. If it's not obvious, in his visions he always thinks of himself as Kas, even if he's thinking of himself as Oracle outside his visions. He slides into Oracle-mode during fights and serious Pro Hero work, and in this case slid out after getting the suspect/witness to the police.

Also: cameo from Koichi! I have not read Vigilantes yet, but I know a lot of you do and I needed a chauffeur for Ashido and Kirishima, so perfect fit!

Question for next time: Assuming OFA powers up pre-existing Quirks like in fanon (I don't think there's actually any canon evidence it does that), who would be the most disastrous/chaotic choice to get it?