Chapter 50

.::A Quiet Evening::.

All across Japan as evening fell, people retreated to their homes to settle in for the night. Some sat down for dinner with their families, quietly celebrating the start of the weekend. Some sat in their bedrooms and offices, working on projects for school or work that couldn't wait. Still more donned uniforms and support gear as they stepped into the night, prepared for a long, cold night of stalking the streets protecting those who needed it most—or in some cases, searching for openings to prey on those people.

As the night wore on six teenagers let themselves indulge in a quiet evening full of quiet contemplation, a rare indulgence for those trapped in another world.

Deep in the heart of Hosu, Jirou Kyouka reclined in a bathtub letting the warm water soothe her aching muscles. After taking yesterday off to wait for the initial clamor from their big villain fight on Wednesday to fade, they'd gone on another patrol today, this one thankfully much quieter. A total of four hours had been spent creeping along the streets looking for crime, stopping two muggings, one shoplifter, and one attempted assault before calling it a day.

All in all, it had been a relatively peaceful and uneventful patrol, much to her and Kaminari's combined relief. The worst injury either of them got had been when she landed a little hard after climbing a tree using Gecko Mode to rescue a kitten for a little girl. But while she hadn't been injured like Kaminari had been on Sunday she still felt unbelievably exhausted and sore though, especially her arms.

The battle on Wednesday had been more straining and tiring than Kyouka had expected. All day yesterday her body had ached, bruises forming all over from when she'd dived to the ground to avoid the villainess's attacks. Surprisingly the largest one didn't come from that though, but Iida. Even now she could see a particularly large one on her stomach where he'd effectively clotheslined her while pushing her out of the way of the woman's attack. Kyouka appreciated the save, but he hadn't been gentle.

But the worst was definitely her arms. That stunt where she'd used Gecko Mode to climb up a wall while Kaminari clung to her legs had taken its toll. Yesterday just lifting them left them sore and aching. The pain had thankfully faded over the course of the day to the point she could ignore it, but it had come back full force after she used Gecko Mode again during today's patrol to get that cat.

Still, she didn't regret it. The kid had been beaming when Kyouka handed it over. They'd ended the patrol not long after that, much to her relief, and aside from eating dinner a little bit ago she hadn't used her arms since. She'd just sprawled on the couch with the TV on while Kaminari went around doing... whatever.

"Gentle Criminal, huh?" she murmured to herself as she tipped back her head and let her eyes slide shut. All the stations had been focused pretty heavily on the phantom thief's arrival in Hosu on Wednesday. News had been pretty evenly split between his encounter with Ingenium and their battle with that villainess, and even now she didn't know if that was a blessing or not.

What really got her interest though was Gentle Criminal's partner, Phantom Shadow. The mysterious figure had only shown up at the tail-end of the encounter with Ingenium, throwing a smoke bomb at him while they escaped. He hadn't appeared long, the camera too far to get a good look as he and Gentle skipped away through the sky. Today the stations had played older footage where he'd used his Quirk though, and after seeing just one clip Kyouka had no doubts:

Phantom Shadow was absolutely Tokoyami.

So far everyone they'd met in this world seemed to have managed to keep a normal civilian life, but she had never expected any of them would go villain. She idly wondered why Tokoyami worked with Gentle Criminal in this world—if he was a willing accomplice, or if he had been kidnapped and forced into a villainous life at a young age. She'd have to do more research on Gentle Criminal later to figure it out, but she would have done that even if Tokoyami hadn't been in the picture.

After all, they might end up going after him.

Taking down Gentle Criminal would be risky and draw a lot of attention. She hadn't heard much about him yet, but according to Kaminari rumors and gossip had run rampant at school after his last heist. For whatever reason he seemed to be fairly popular here as some sort of anti-hero or vigilante who only targeted corporations. Compared to their world, he was a freaking celebrity here.

Kyouka still wasn't sure they wanted the kind of massive attention that would come from battling someone as infamous as that. Just fighting that villainess on Wednesday had gotten them a lot of attention that could easily go the wrong way. Even so, if they happened to see him and Tokoyami during a patrol... well, they'd have to do something. They were the 1-A Vigilantes. They couldn't just ignore a criminal.

In the room next door, Kaminari Denki sat on the couch with his laptop scrolling through the newest batch of photos from the camera Hatsume made. He'd brought it along during today's patrol, and unlike the chaotic mess that had been Wednesday, this time he'd actually been able to get some shots during the lulls.

Most of them weren't that exciting; he couldn't use the camera while actively fighting after all. The closest thing he'd gotten to an action shot was a picture of Jirou standing next to a guy she'd knocked down with a punch to the stomach, but to his disappointment it was too blurry to actually use.

Between action they ended up doing some smaller things too though, just little tasks to help when they saw people who needed it. That's where most of the photos came from, just candid shots of them helping random people with more mundane stuff. Classic good deeds like carrying bags for old ladies crossing the street, or helping clean up a street after a child's Quirk unexpectedly activated and knocked over everything that wasn't nailed down.

He grinned as he paused on a photo of Jirou scaling a tree to retrieve a cat that got stuck on a high branch. The smoky gray cat stood out against the brown and orange foliage, sitting with its back hunched and neck craned to watch Jirou from above. At the bottom you could see the top of the head of the little girl who'd asked them to help, hands reaching up eagerly. A classic heroic rescue, and better yet the 1-A on her back was crisp and clear as she stretched one arm up to keep climbing.

"Jackpot," Denki said to himself, moving it to the folder for good photos before switching over to the web browser. He still had their FacePage profile open, now bearing the profile picture of them holding the "1-A" and "Vigilantes" signs, and a myriad of other photos and links to articles about them. It only took a few minutes to upload the photo, tacking on a simple caption, 'Really feel like heroes today!'

After it uploaded he switched to another tab with their still-new Tweeter profile. With their forced break yesterday they'd taken up Hatsume on the offer of having that guy she knew install all the security stuff so they could use other sites without being traced. They'd decided to stick to just Tweeter for now, since they both used it in their own world and were more familiar with it than other platforms.

Though the account was barely a day old they'd already gotten a few dozen followers, the unique photos setting them apart from copycats and pretenders. He uploaded the picture there, too, tagging it with '#justherothings'. No need to get too wordy. After he tweeted it he leaned back with a quiet sigh, taking a few seconds to just relax while waiting for responses. Their social media presence was growing slowly but steadily, amassing a total of nearly three hundred followers between both sites.

Still, part of him wondered if this was really doing anything. They'd gotten comments and a few followers, sure, and their brand was going strong, but they'd gotten nothing yet to indicate someone else was here. That was the whole reason they bothered with the social media campaign. With each day of silence, it seemed more and more likely they were all alone here after all. All they could do was keep posting and hope for something.

Biting his lip, Denki pushed the thought away and switched back to FacePage. A quick refresh showed a few comments had already posted on the newest photo and he skimmed over them. The first two just commented on the generic nature of saving a cat from a tree, but when he reached the third one he froze. Denki bolted upright, sitting up so fast it would have knocked the laptop to the floor if he hadn't been clutching it so tightly.

'Do the names Pinkie, Heights Alliance and Chargebolt mean anything to you guys? If they do, DM me. Asking for a friend.'

His heart picked up its pace as he read it over and over again, barely able to believe his eyes. The commenter's name, 'Nettmegg,' meant nothing to him, nor did the stylized drawing of a satellite dish used as a profile pic. But the comment—Pinkie, Heights Alliance, Chargebolt.

"We're not alone," he whispered, tears starting to form as a shaky smile formed. "We're... We're not alone!"

In another prefecture entirely, Uraraka Ochako stood in the apartment of a woman she knew to be some kind of villain staring at a closed bedroom door. Aiko had returned only briefly that evening, carrying a stiff, black plastic case full of something which she never showed Ochako (though the texts from Deku gave her some ideas). She'd come out of her room wearing a red jacket with fake fur trim and a punk-looking skirt over tight jeans, completing the look with the same goggles she'd worn the day Ochako first met her.

"I have work tonight, and won't be back until tomorrow afternoon," she'd said. "Stay inside while I'm gone and don't leave the building, okay?"

Ochako had voiced her agreement without hesitation, but after a few hours passed, she found herself gravitating towards the woman's bedroom. Aiko's door looked plain and unremarkable, yet standing in front of it she found herself having to steel her nerves—whether because she wanted to enter, or to talk herself out of going inside.

Even after staying with Aiko for five days, Ochako didn't know what, exactly, she did for the Alliance, but she'd started to develop theories. When Ochako returned on Wednesday, Aiko had been completely unrecognizable. She looked like a man down to her build, her hair much shorter and fluffy and colored light green like lettuce, and her face even had a smattering of colorful freckles. The only thing that didn't look radically different were her eyes, which still looked like starry skies.

"Oh, I had to dress up for that favor," she'd explained cheerfully once Ochako got over her initial shock. "That's why I asked you all those questions!" Ochako had figured out that much, but it was still shocking to see how significant the change had been. Even her body build seemed different, far more masculine than before. Not super-buff or anything, but still. That sweater wasn't exactly baggy.

That moment had been when Ochako really realized how little she knew about the woman, not even her Quirk. But more than that, it reminded her that Aiko was almost certainly a villain of some sort.

It wasn't that Ochako had forgotten that, but it just hadn't really clicked until she saw Aiko look like a completely different person. Up to that point Aiko just had been so nice and friendly, always so cheerful and helpful. Anyone could tell she genuinely cared about Deku. It was hard to imagine her doing anything truly nefarious.

But then, she did break Shigaraki's wrist—and more than that, she had Aizawa-sensei's goggles.

Ochako had actually seen them since coming here. She'd had to take a shower in Aiko's bedroom since using Deku's shower felt weird and the other bathrooms didn't have working showers, and Aiko had them on the dresser in plain sight. It only took one glance to know they weren't some knock-off imitations. Those were the real deal, and she couldn't think of any decent explanation for someone connected to villains to get his goggles.

Aiko had secrets Ochako couldn't begin to imagine, and she couldn't ask.

If Ochako was going to continue staying with her, she wanted to know exactly who she was dealing with. She would bet money that Aiko's interest in disguises was more than just a hobby, especially after Deku told her about her passion for Quirk chemistry before Aiko came back with that black case. The apartments gave no hints though; Aiko had no weapons or tools lying around, no plans or itineraries in the open. If she did have anything related to her work, it would be in her bedroom.

With Aiko gone for the night, right now would be her best chance to look. Yet even so, Ochako found herself hesitating. Did she really want to do this? She'd seen the room two times now when taking a shower, and aside from Aizawa-sensei's goggles nothing had stood out. Anything related to her work would probably be hidden, meaning Ochako would have to snoop.

While she wouldn't hesitate to do it for a good cause, she was more worried about Aiko noticing the signs she'd searched the room. She had no idea how the woman would react, if she'd still be friendly and maybe tease her for being curious, or if she'd get mad. Ochako had yet to see Aiko angry, but... she broke Shigaraki's wrist. That was a red flag on its own.

But also... Ochako remembered seeing a shrine there. Not a full, proper one like in her family's home, but still obviously a shrine to the dead.

That was what really made Ochako hesitate. Something about intruding upon a room with a shrine made her stomach twist guiltily. Even when she'd first seen it she hadn't been able to look at it for more than a second, guiltily looking away as if seeing something very private. There had been a table with unlit candles in front of two rows of shelves draped with white cloth holding several photos—not one or two, several photos, each in a nice frame decorated with black ribbons.

Her fists clenched at her sides as she inhaled sharply, wracked with indecision. Even if those photos could give her some insight into Aiko's history, Ochako didn't like the idea of intruding upon her privacy like that.

Before she could dwell on it too long her phone suddenly dinged in her pocket. She jumped as she recognized the special chime from FacePage, scrambling to pull it out and open the site. Instead of a new message from Deku or Ashido finally accepting her friend request though, she saw a notification about a message from the person who'd sent her a request earlier that afternoon.

Her mouth thinned as she looked at the notification, her eyebrows furrowing. The name "Nettmegg" didn't sound like Ashido or anyone else she knew, and it was odd she only got a message now hours later. Still, after a moment of hesitation she opened the messenger to read it.

'Hey, thanks for accepting my request. We don't know each other, but I think you know my friend. Do the names Pinkie and Uravity mean anything to you?'

At the same time in the far edges of Nabu, Midoriya Izuku settled in his teacher's cell so they could listen to another teacher's voice stream from his phone. Aizawa looked more relaxed than he had this whole time as he reclined atop the blanket, his head resting on a pillow and his bad leg elevated on a few other pillows. The tension didn't fade from his body completely though, still shooting Izuku wary glances now and then, but Izuku had started to grow numb to the distrusting looks.

The teenager curled in the corner to give the captive hero as much space as possible, a blanket wrapped around himself like a cocoon as he hugged his own pillow to his chest. Sitting on the floor, listening to Present Mic's voice steadily stream from his phone as he enthusiastically introduced song after song... How many nights had he spent like this over the years, eagerly trying to stay awake long enough to hear the end?

Still, this time he found his concentration wavering, his mind too restless to even entertain the thought of dozing off. His gaze kept flickering to a small plate with a single pill and an uncapped water bottle next to where his teacher lay, both untouched.

He knew from experience Aizawa was no stranger to pain. Any discomfort at his broken leg was expertly hidden behind a mask of calculated coolness and indifference. But Izuku couldn't imagine it didn't hurt at all, especially not after whatever he had endured before getting taken by Shigaraki and the Alliance. The man had obviously been in bad shape in those horrifying few seconds when Izuku first saw him, and that was before his leg got broken.

Magne had been the one to suggest he just bring the man a painkiller when he'd unintentionally mumbled those concerns aloud. She'd said that Shigaraki probably wouldn't notice or even care if he did. Ultimately Aizawa was Izuku's "toy"—and he'd winced at that word, not knowing if it was worse or better than "pet"—so as long as he didn't release him, whatever Izuku did with the captive hero was his business.

But when he mustered the courage to bring one in, Aizawa refused to take it.

He'd glared at the pill suspiciously when Izuku first explained what it was, and then simply ignored it. Izuku naturally hadn't tried to force it on him, leaving it within easy reaching distance so he could take it of his own accord, and since then it hadn't been touched. Even now Aizawa's gaze still occasionally darted towards it, gaze calculating and critical before always, always turning away.

The fact his teacher refused to take it broke Izuku's heart, reminding him just how little this version of the man trusted him. In his place Izuku would probably be suspicious too—especially after seeing Aiko's lab—but that didn't make it hurt any less.

For all they seemed to have bonded over the past few days, it was perfectly clear that Aizawa still saw him as an enemy.

Is bringing Kacchan and Shinsou really a good idea? The dismal thought repeated for the umpteenth time this hour, making Izuku bury his face into his pillow a little more. The request to have Aizawa act as a teacher had been a spur of the moment impulse when Kurogiri first told them they'd all have to start doing homework. It had been the perfect opening to get Kacchan and Shinsou to meet him so they could start building their own bond of trust with him and prepare for the eventual escape. The fact the mist-man agreed to a minimally supervised tutoring session still surprised Izuku.

But as good as it could be, Izuku knew Aizawa wouldn't react well. They both had those anklet-bombs—even if the bomb part wasn't obvious—and Shinsou had a muzzle. One look would be all Aizawa would need to recognize they were prisoners held here against their will. It didn't matter if they all acted like best friends, the obvious imbalance in their power dynamic would surely tank whatever good opinions he'd built of Izuku.

Losing what little trust he'd managed to gain made Izuku want to scream, but... He felt like he had no other choice. If he can meet Kacchan and Shinsou, he might trust them more than me. They might be able to get through to him more easily, and then they can tell him what's really going on.

(Still, it hurt that he was the one who knew Aizawa best, the one who would trust his life to the man first and foremost, and he was the one Aizawa trusted the least.)

A sudden stutter from Mic's voice cut into his thoughts, the abrupt change enough to jar Izuku back to reality even if he hadn't been listening closely. Mic's words began to distort and glitch out, skipping some parts and repeating syllables for several seconds at a time. He lifted his head to look at his phone with furrowed eyebrows, wondering if it was dying, and across from him Aizawa did the same.

Just as Izuku began to untangle himself from the cocoon the sound abruptly cut out. After several long seconds Mic's voice returned, this time speaking clearly without break. "Wow, sorry about that dear listeners! We seem to be having some technical difficulties here at the station right now. We're gonna play some music until we figure this out, so sit tight, and Put Your Hands UP for some rocking beats!"

Izuku's eyebrows only furrowed further as another song began streaming, crawling over to pick up the phone. Something about Mic's voice just then felt... weird. "That... was that actually Present Mic?" he muttered as he turned down the volume a bit. "His voice sounded similar, but... It sounded just a little off? Like, maybe it was a recording? Or an impersonator? There's a lot of support gear that can copy voices, right? Or... maybe he just used a different microphone or something, they did mention technical difficulties, so he just sounded different?"

"...It probably wasn't him." Aizawa's voice startled Izuku, nearly dropping the phone as his head snapped up. The hero regarded the phone with narrowed eyes, his mouth pressed into a tight line as he seemed to consider... something, taking several seconds to think before continuing. "...Chances are, he has some other work that's more urgent, and they were playing a recording for the show. At the very least, if I were in his place, I'd have some backups in case I was busy."

Izuku perked up at the information, realizing Aizawa was probably right. Back in his world, Mic had once mentioned that he kept emergency recordings if he had a raid or other hero activity that overlapped with his show's broadcast. It was less to preserve the schedule, and more to make sure that villains wouldn't suspect he was up to something that night. He recalled the man even mentioned in class that he had an intern who could do a near-perfect impression of him for emergencies.

Still, the fact that Aizawa actually explained that, even if he didn't explain all of it... Izuku was technically connected to villains who might find that information useful, who might read between the lines and figure out the real purpose. But he told Izuku anyway, and that...

That filled him with a little bit of hope.

At that very moment Yamada Hizashi's phone was buzzing with texts from his manager about the technical issues, not that he noticed. His attention was focused solely on the meeting which had only just begun to wrap up. Conversation had bounced between the three missing teenagers and Shouta in equal parts, the focus always drifting back to the Villain Alliance in the end.

Ultimately though, they'd made no real headway on how to move next. People offered strategy after strategy, plan after plan, but they lacked the most crucial element of all: information. As it stood they had no idea where the Villain Alliance was based, no idea where the teenagers might have gone. The most solid proposal was to investigate everyone connected to Midoriya Izuku, the boy who seemed to be Shigaraki's brother and the one who they suspected played some role in Uraraka's disappearance.

Beside him Nemuri had grown ever more quiet as that encounter got mentioned again and again, glowering into space with growing intensity. He knew she blamed herself to some degree. She'd been there after all; she'd been the one to usher Uraraka away upon recognizing Midoriya and then Shigaraki. Even if Uraraka's disappearance happened later, the woman probably still blamed herself for not being there when she knew both her parents would be gone.

After all the times she'd supported and comforted him over Shouta, Hizashi felt it was probably high time to return the favor, but he couldn't. Not when Shouta had finally been found to be alive, and was now in the custody of the Villain Alliance for some damn reason they couldn't fathom. For the past three days he'd been in a constant state of relief, horror, hope, despair, euphoria, dread—it was exhausting, to constantly fluctuate between such powerful emotions like this.

Sorry Nemuri, I'm not in the right mindset to help you right now. He offered his friend a silent apology as Vlad and Snipe approached after watching her closely the whole meeting. As they began talking to her he slipped away and left them to handle her this time, instead heading for where Lady of the Night talked to Oracle and Figment.

With her psychometry, Lady had the most information on Shouta's current state. She might not be able to help him directly right now, but maybe there was something she'd picked up but hadn't mentioned yet. Or maybe they could work out a plan to investigate further. Search the area around the base's ruins, see if she could pick up any other impressions that could give them some sort of hint.

Anything that could bring them closer to finding Shouta.

As he got closer Oracle turned to face him with a lazy nod and smile, cutting off Hizashi's intended greeting. The other two either didn't notice him yet or simply didn't care, continuing their conversation. "So he's still not here?" Lady of the Night muttered.

"I texted Utsushimi, but she says she hasn't seen him," Figment replied, shaking his head. "I wouldn't worry. He could just be hanging out alone somewhere waiting for this meeting to end." Lady of the Night frowned, seeming to be unsatisfied by that response.

"Yo, what's up over here?" Hizashi asked in lieu of a greeting, his curiosity momentarily preempting his desire to ask about Shouta.

"Talking about Mail," Oracle responded with a shrug. "That's spelled M-A-I-L, for the record." Hizashi perked up at the spelling, expecting a more classic "M-I-L-E" with that pronunciation. Oracle shook his head. "No, it's not a nickname, and is probably an actual name." Hizashi's eyebrows furrowed at the "probably" and Oracle snorted. "It's complicated. Trust me, you don't want to know." And then, "No, we have no idea where it's from. If you figure it out, please tell us. The internet keeps telling us the history of the postal service when we try searching it."

"...Wow, I see why people say you're fun to talk to," Hizashi quipped dryly, managing his first actual words this whole conversation. Oracle cracked a grin at that, mischief and amusement glinting in his gold and turquoise eyes.

"Sorry, habit. I'll stop now." He smoothly stepped half a step to the side as he spoke, neatly dodging the light bop Lady of the Night aimed at his head. She shot him an annoyed glare but didn't comment or try to do it again, turning to Hizashi instead.

"Ignore him, he had a bad childhood and never learned how to be an actual adult." Despite his annoyance Hizashi felt slightly amused at how Oracle stuck out his tongue at her, as if reinforcing her statement. The childish gesture eroded some of his initial irritation and he found himself smiling.

"It's fine, I'd probably do the same thing if I had that Quirk," he said with a light laugh. "Seems like it'd be fun. Who's this Mail guy, though?" The duo exchanged brief looks at that, seeming to communicate silently before turning back.

"It's complicated," they chorused, perfectly deadpan. Hizashi found himself snorting, and Lady continued, "Short version, he's basically an honorary member of the General Analysis Team and Nighteye Agency. He usually hangs out around here, but he headed off somewhere on Monday night and we haven't seen him since. Sometimes he disappears like that, but it's rare for him to be gone for this long."

Hizashi felt his amused smile quickly fade as she spoke, his expression becoming more serious. "Do you think something happened to him?" he asked grimly. He didn't know what role this guy had, but if he worked with the Nighteye Agency he'd probably be a target.

Lady of the Night seemed to pick up on his thoughts though, shaking her head. "No, he's probably fine," she replied. "He's a... special case."

"Frankly, if someone could actually hurt or capture him, I'd be impressed," Oracle added with a wry smirk, which quickly took on a sharp edge as he added, "Impressed, and then outraged and fucking homicidal." He said the last two words in English, and this time he didn't dodge when Lady of the Night bopped her fist on his head, his grin never fading.

Hizashi just raised his eyebrows at his interesting choice of words to say in English, but decided not to comment on it. "Can't you call him?"

"Not an option for reasons," Lady sighed. "Honestly, he really is probably fine. He always tells someone when he leaves, we just need to figure out who."

"And I just found the answer," Figment suddenly said, giving a low whistle as he looked at his phone. He had a small smirk, eyes just as mischievous and amused as Oracle's. "Utsushimi just texted that he asked Togata and Tamaki on Monday night for directions to your charges' apartment building, Oracle. Probably caught the last train."

That had the other two heroes tensing and standing very straight, exchanging wide-eyed looks while Hizashi felt his mood sink. Shit. Talking to Lady of the Night about Shouta would have to wait. "I'm guessing he never showed up?" he guessed gravely, mentally preparing himself for the meeting to get a surprise extension to form an emergency search party.

"...If he did, I wouldn't know," Oracle said slowly, and that... made Hizashi frown, confused.

"He shadowed you?" Lady of the Night asked, and frowned as she pulled out her phone. "If he caught the last train to Kamino, he probably waited at their apartment building all night until you showed up. And watching you stare out a window for hours on end is boring, so he'd probably go back, which means..."

"That son of a bitch," Oracle whispered in English, a giant grin breaking on his face. "That fucking son of a bitch. Holy shit."

"Uh, what's going on?" Hizashi asked, feeling very confused and lost, and Oracle laughed. Threw his head back with a loud cackle that startled everyone around them, several people turning to look at them in confusion and alarm as he kept cackling.

"Mail, I fucking love you!" he shouted, uncaring of all the stares. Next to him Lady of the Night growled in irritation and shrunk away from all the looks.

"Keep it down, moron!" she hissed, and Oracle's cackling tapered off into a low chuckle as he straightened his head. The heroine had a tense frown on her face as she glanced at the people watching them, seeming to consider something as her eyes narrowed. "I'm going to tell Nighteye. Stay here and don't make a scene."

She shot him a pointed look and Oracle just nodded, a wide grin on his face as she hurried off with Figment in tow. The others shot them curious looks but soon returned to their own conversations, leaving Hizashi and Oracle in relative peace. "Uh, what's going on?" Hizashi asked, and Oracle turned to him with a devious-looking smile. He leaned forward and Hizashi instinctively mimicked the motion, the other hero's voice dropping a few bars lower.

"Mail was there when Ashido and Kirishima went missing, but he never came back here, and he didn't follow me here today, either," he explained, eyes sparkling with delight. "Which means he followed them."

"Wait, WHAT?" Hizashi nearly used his Quirk on the last word, getting some more alarmed stares, though these were closer to glares. He winced and shot them an apologetic look before turning back to Oracle and speaking more lowly. "So wait, you think this Mail guy managed to follow them? And you don't think they noticed him?"

Oracle just shook his head, clearly suppressing another cackle as he grinned. "Present Mic, my friend, if they actually noticed him I'd eat my license. There's no other explanation, he must have followed them. He's probably with them right now."

Holy shit, Hizashi thought faintly. No wonder Oracle had been shouting like that. This was an actual, solid lead—no, this was more than a lead, they had someone who actually knew where those kids were. This was a serious breakthrough, the first real one on any of these damn cases! "So all we need to do is call him up or wait for him to call us or something, right?" he pressed, starting to feel more energized.

At that Oracle's grin faded though and became more subdued. "Ah, not exactly." That had Hizashi's own smile fading, looking at him in confusion as the other hero heaved a large, clearly dramatic sigh. "Hah, I'd rather not explain this, honestly. But you've already heard too much and you're definitely the curious type, so..."

All at once Oracle's smile vanished, his face suddenly almost eerily blank and eyes dark. The sudden shift took Hizashi by surprise, making him tense instinctively as Oracle held his gaze and spoke lowly. "What I'm about to tell you cannot be repeated. If I find out you've told anyone, I'll rip out your tongue, tear it into little pieces and stuff each chunk of it in every orifice in your body. Am I understood?"

A chill ran down Hizashi's spine at the cold and very graphic threat, unable to suppress a shiver. His face quickly smoothed into something equally serious and he pressed his mouth into a thin line as he nodded. "You don't need to threaten me," he grumbled. "Just because my Quirk is Voice doesn't mean I don't know to keep my mouth shut."

Oracle studied him critically for a moment before nodding, and then suddenly he was back to his original carefree demeanor, a lazy half-smile on his face. The abrupt shift back to his usual jovial nature left Hizashi with a severe sense of whiplash, his head actually reeling back as he blinked in surprise. Oracle's gaze flitted to the people around him, and he motioned for Hizashi to step further to the side. Hizashi did so hesitantly, feeling suddenly very wary of his fellow hero.

"Sorry for the threat, but Mail's case is special," Oracle confided, voice pitched low but thrumming with barely contained excitement and glee. "He can't use phones or show up on camera, and you can only communicate with him under very specific circumstances. You can't even see him most of the time. Most people don't even realize he exists, and we prefer to keep it that way." Hizashi's confusion only grew further with each word.

"What are you talking about?" he asked, and Oracle's grin stretched even wider.

"Tell me, Mic, do you believe in ghosts?"

In a cold cement room in a tunnel in Odawara, Ashido Mina quietly comforted a shell-shocked Todoroki Shouto as he shook and stared at his hands limply. Todoroki was far from expressive even at the best of times, but to everyone in the room, his emotions in that moment were clear. At first he hadn't reacted at all to the news that Endeavor had died, but then the shock had set in, disbelief clear as he looked at everyone for signs of deceit.

Only when he looked at Ashido, who still gripped his arm with tears in her eyes and already starting to spill down her cheeks as her mouth wobbled, did his ever-stoic face finally crumple into something broken, and he released a sound of pure, unrestrained agony and confusion.

Almost none of the runaways could bear to look at the pair as Ashido whispered quiet apologies and rubbed his arm. A sense of shame and horror filled the room upon realizing that he hadn't known, some looking more guilty than others. A few of them retreated to the space behind the curtain to give them privacy, others instead slipping into the tunnel.

Todoroki Enji was not a good man. He was not a good father, nor was he a good husband. He was a fantastic Pro Hero, but as far as his family was concerned he was the scum of the earth. Some might be more forgiving than others, but the man had done little to endear himself to any of his children, least of all his youngest son. That training could barely be called such, not when forced upon a child so young.

Yet even so, to be suddenly told that he did not exist—to abruptly learn that a man who had such a crucial and powerful influence on his life was dead...

There is a certain gravity to such revelations that defy basic logic. A certain impact that those who are not in that sort of position will ever understand.

For once, Mail did understand though.

"Hah, what a poor kid..."

Mail's murmurs went unheard by the others, none of them noticing as he hovered near the ceiling. He watched the Todoroki boy with a sympathetic frown, knowing just how jarring it must be. He knew the strange conflict the boy felt all too well, where you expected you would feel only relief and joy at someone's death, but instead feel a sense of grief and loss too.

(Often times, he thought Kintsugi's death had been too kind, and that only made that illogical sense of grief all the more ugly.)

Sympathetic as he was though, this wasn't this Todoroki's Endeavor. This Todoroki Shouto was an outsider, a displaced child who did not belong in this world and who likely still had another Endeavor waiting for him in his own world. Just as this Ashido Mina had a life waiting for her with a different Kirishima Eijirou, as did Uraraka Ochako and most likely Kaminari Denki and Jirou Kyouka as well.

He turned and drifted through the walls of the tunnel to emerge into the forest, where Anjou Ran stood tapping away on her phone. When he got close he could see FacePage open on the screen, the girl sending message after message to some unknown party. He had no doubts she was texting at least one of the other suspected dimension travelers at that very moment, seeing as she'd voiced suspicions Uraraka had attempted to contact Ashido.

"So there's probably at least five, not just three, huh?" Mail mused to himself quietly, rolling to "recline" on his back and stare at the cloudy sky in thought. Uraraka Ochako being displaced was not news, merely confirmation of a suspicion. He'd suspected it the moment Saki described the girl remembering Midoriya as a teenager. They could have met at some point after Midoriya went missing, but with the additional memories of Ashido and Shigaraki tied to the phone, the possibility of her being from another world had been too strong to ignore.

And if meeting Midoriya was enough to spur her to run away, then chances were he was from another world too.

A small smile made itself known on his face at the thought, a thrill of satisfaction and anticipation coursing through him. Damn, he felt bad for these kids, but this was the opening they'd been waiting for years to find. He had no idea what the immediate future held, or when he'd be able to get back to the Nighteye Agency to fill in Saki or Kas, but these kids were the ticket to finally finding answers.

Mail twisted his body to face the boy called both Shouji and Parasyte, the bulky teen leaning against a tree with arms crossed under his poncho. He floated closer, never shifting from his lazy recline and craning his head back to look at the teen upside-down. The mask made it hard to read his expression but the teen seemed to be lost in thought, for rather understandable reasons.

"I wonder," Mail hummed quietly. "Why did that Porter show you another world? And was it really theirs?"

He got no response, not that he expected one.

After all, even in a world full of Quirks, few could speak to the dead.

In the Discord server (link still ends in invite/6WWwTXU), I once mentioned one character's a ghost. I was not lying.

Also to everyone who wondered how long it'd take for everyone to get into contact: here's your answer.

On the note of ghosts, I drew a headshot of Mail over on my Tumblr! You can find it easily by adding "tagged/mail" to the end of the URL.

Question for next time: how likely do you think it is that ghosts exist in the canon!MHA universe?