(Minor trigger warning: description of a drawing of hanging bodies. Just in case.)

Chapter 60

.::Nostalgic Meeting::.

Izuku had been on his way to his room when he found Seiko drawing on the wall. He had to stop when he turned the corner, eyes immediately fixed on the bloody red tree.

"Uh, Seiko?" he asked, voice just slightly higher pitched than usual.

"Yes?" she asked, not bothering to look back at him.

"Are those... bodies hanging from the tree?" He stared at the distinctly humanoid figures dangling from the tree branches, feeling more than a little unnerved. Sketchy-looking strokes had been used to create the human outlines, more detailed than stick figures but still rather bare and all the more creepy looking for it.

"Yes," she replied simply, still not bothering to turn around. Her full attention seemed to be focused on using those shadowy tendrils to add some strokes to one of the faces. The faces lacked a lot of fine detail other than slash-like cross marks for the eyes and scratchy-looking circles for the mouths, which honestly made it worse.

"...Oh," Izuku said lamely, for lack of anything better to say. For a moment they just stood in silence, Seiko continuing her work while Izuku watched in a sort of numb state. Okay, so drawing on the walls was totally a thing kids did, and quite possibly the most normal thing Seiko had done so far. But she also seemed a bit old for that, and the whole hanging corpses thing was definitely wait was that a head in the hole in the tree's center?

"By the way, Aiko is here." Izuku was so transfixed by the eerily detailed severed human head sitting in the hollow that it took a few seconds for Seiko's words to register. When they did he just blinked mildly, still a bit dazed by the severed head.

"Oh, where is she?" he asked almost absently. Aiko visiting didn't seem too alarming right now, or maybe he was just focused on the tears of blood.

"She went to visit Eraserhead," Seiko responded idly.

This time, the words had the instant impact they deserved. Izuku snapped out of his stunned state instantly, the nightmarish tree promptly forgotten. "She did what?" he squeaked, face rapidly draining of color. No, no no no! She wasn't supposed to know about him! They had been so careful not to tell her he was here! "Did you tell her?"

"No. She said Toga told her on a phone call yesterday." Izuku resisted the urge to simultaneously groan and scream. How did he not account for Toga? He knew she and Aiko talked, Aiko mentioned her telling her about Uraraka when he first met her!

This was bad. This was very bad. He turned and all but fled to Aizawa's cell, not caring if Seiko might follow him or not. He still had no idea what their connection was, but Aiko had his goggles, and he sincerely doubted Aizawa handed them over willingly.

Please don't let him be too late before something bad happened.

"Aiko."

The name alone had Shouta's skin prickling with goosebumps as he said it, hoping—praying—that he was wrong. He'd never seen her, and this woman's voice was different, just the slightest bit deeper. It could easily just be lingering paranoia, years-old unease brought back to the surface by his current circumstances. Yet even so he already sensed deep down that he was right.

The woman smiled thinly, expression wry and lacking any humor. "Guess I stand corrected," she chuckled. Shouta flinched at the confirmation, swearing he felt his heartbeat briefly stutter as a full-body shudder wracked his frame. It felt like ice had been dumped over him, like the world had suddenly shrunk around him, like he was trapped with his arms against his chest and eyes covered and couldn't breathe—

No. He firmly banished the memories even as he cringed in on himself, forcing himself to breathe steadily as his gaze fell to his lap. Five things he could see: His pants. The splint around his broken leg. His shirt. A dark red blanket spread on the floor. An off-white pillow skewed and rumpled near the end from when he'd abruptly sat up.

Four things he could feel: The worn, slightly itchy material of his shirt. The soft but slightly irritating material of the gray mittens against his hands. Pressure around his neck, and the weight of a chain hanging from it to drape down to the floor—

Shouta sucked in a sharp breath and hissed in displeasure as he lightly shook his head. Fuck, he was trying to ground himself to prevent a panic attack, but it just reminded him of his predicament. He grit his teeth in frustration, silently commanding himself to stay calm. Reminding himself that even if he was vulnerable and restrained, he wasn't back there. He could still see, could still move his arms and good leg.

But it was hard to convince himself that he was safe with her in the room.

Despite his acute distress, Shouta knew he couldn't stay silent and panic forever. Silently counting backwards from ten, once he reached zero he forced himself to lift his head again to look at Aiko. She'd moved a few steps away from the door and sat on the floor while he'd focused on grounding himself, now holding his goggles in her hands and idly fiddling with the straps.

Part of him felt relief she wasn't looking at him even as his anxiety spiked at seeing the familiar yellow goggles in her hands. She didn't seem to expect him to say something, letting him work through his emotions in his own time. Quite possibly one of the few positive things about her was that she never pushed him to speak, usually filling in the silence herself and letting him respond on his own terms. It was one of the few things he had any control over.

This time Shouta knew it wouldn't be an option though. She had clearly sought him out, and he doubted she would leave without satisfying whatever urge drew her here. And he knew she wouldn't start until he opened up the conversation to signify he was ready.

"What do you want?" he ground out reluctantly, and her eyes flicked up. That star-like pattern was almost mesmerizing, a dazzling and eye-catching feature he'd never have associated with her even after all the years of dreaming of the face that went with that voice. If he didn't know any better he'd suspect she had some sort of hypnotic Emitter-type Quirk that centered around them.

(But he did know better, knew enough to want her to stay as far away as possible even if he didn't know the full specifics.)

"To talk, mostly," she replied with a small shrug, gaze returning to his goggles. "I only found out you were here last night. Honestly, I thought you might be dead." The casualness of the remark had him wincing even as she continued, "Last I heard about you was in April. Don't know if that's when you got captured or if you kept a low profile for a while, but it's definitely been long enough for the three month rule to take effect."

The casual remark had his teeth grinding in apprehension, though for different reasons now. "How the hell do you even know about that?" he demanded.

His question had Aiko pausing, glancing up at him curiously. "Is it... not common knowledge?" she asked, sounding genuinely surprised.

"No, it's not," he spat sharply. The three month rule, while commonly recognized among underground heroes and those who worked with them, wasn't exactly common knowledge. They didn't really want villains knowing that after three months all search efforts would likely end. Who knew what sick and twisted games they'd play with that information, both on their victims and those searching desperately for them.

"Huh," she said softly, looking distant and thoughtful, before finally shrugging and returning to her fiddling. "Learn something new every day. Thank you for telling me, I'll make a point not to reference it in the future. It's so hard to keep track of what's common knowledge, and that one doesn't ever come up so it's the first I've heard of it."

Shouta almost wanted to bang his head against the floor at how blatantly she avoided his question. Even with his nerves at an all-time high, he felt a pang of annoyance at how she danced around the question. He didn't push it though, knowing it would be futile. "Would you actually care if I died?" he questioned instead.

"I wouldn't be broken up over it, but I'd still be a little sad," she responded idly. "You are one of my favorite heroes, believe it or not. I think most people would have retired after that, but you didn't. You went back in, just like you said you would. Every time I see you, you still have this fight and spark of will in your eyes. I already respected you for that, but seeing you in action... It's hard not to be a fan." Once more her remarks had Shouta stilling, breath catching as he caught onto the implications.

"We've met since then?" he whispered hoarsely. When? Surely he'd remember seeing someone with those eyes, unless she wore contacts. Had she been in disguise? Or had she been spying on him? Had she followed him without him knowing? How long—

"We have similar tastes in criminal organizations," she said before his thoughts could spiral too far. "You just happen to target a lot of groups I like to keep an eye on." She paused in her fiddling then, the strap twisted and looped once around a single finger, and frowned. "I should've investigated this last one more closely. Then I would've been the one to find you instead of Tomura."

Her expression darkened, voice dipping lower, and Shouta found himself cringing and shrinking away as a tremor started to spread through his body. He was not in that room again, he was not in that damn jacket, he did not have plastic shoved into his mouth and cloth wrapped tight over his eyes. He was still collared and chained to the floor like an animal, but he wasn't in that place anymore.

But she was here now. The situation had been dire, he knew that already, but he hadn't thought she would show up now. He'd been captured a few other times in the past and she'd never appeared then, but he should have known. He should have fucking realized with all the rumors about the Alliance that she might be connected to it, no matter how marginal that connection might be.

"I should have looked deeper," she grumbled, expression still dark and radiating displeasure. "Things could have been so much different if I'd just known..." Her voice trailed off into a bitter whisper. Shouta remained silent and braced himself, measured his breathing and counted back from ten to calm down.

He'd reached four when the door opened, startling him out of his counting and nearly making him gasp. His head snapped to the side to see Midoriya standing there, eyes wide with shock and alarm as he looked at them.

Shouta couldn't really define the sudden onslaught of emotions at seeing the teen. Earlier he likely would have been panicked, overcome with relief and perhaps ready to grovel, but right now he felt so much and so strongly that it was just too much. It left his mind frayed and uncertain of what to feel, leaving him feeling largely blank. Midoriya's wide eyes met Shouta's for a split-second before focusing on Aiko, mouth pulling into a small frown.

"Aiko-nee, what are you doing here?" he asked as he walked into the room. Aiko-nee, Shouta's mind repeated. Shit. She had twisted to face Midoriya, her earlier dark aura gone and faced lit up with a bright smile as she got to her feet.

"Just visiting Eraserhead and catching up," she replied cheerfully. "I can't believe you didn't tell me who was here, Izun. Or, well, I can," she amended with a faint chuckle. "Considering, you know." Midoriya's frown remained as he walked closer, circling around her while keeping a distance. Shouta didn't bother tracking his movements that closely, attention focused largely on Aiko to check her reaction to his presence.

"So you two know each other?" Midoriya asked.

"We've crossed paths before," she replied cryptically, still smiling. It was a friendly and gentle smile, the kind reserved for someone very precious. It felt odd seeing it on the face of a person who had haunted his nightmares for years even without a face.

"Like, as enemies?" Midoriya pressed, voice just slightly nervous, and her smile faded slightly as she sighed.

"Izuku, it's complicated. Maybe I'll explain some other time, but right now I just want to talk to him for a bit. Could you leave?" Shouta shuddered almost instinctively at her request, recalling that suffocating atmosphere he felt years ago, thick and oppressive and smothering him relentlessly even if only for a brief time. She didn't radiate an iota of that darkness right now, seeming for all the world to be a normal person, but he couldn't forget it.

"Um, I'd rather not," Midoriya replied after a moment, and both adults froze at that. Shouta's eyes finally tore away from Aiko to look at the green-haired teenager, taking in the anxious hunch to his shoulders as he shifted nervously and stammered, "I-I mean, Eraserhead is kind of my responsibility now, because T-Tomura-nii, well, you know. A-and I'd rather not... leave him alone with, well, anyone."

His words came out nervous and quiet, clearly uncomfortable with confrontation. Yet at the same time he spoke with an undercurrent of determination, his posture growing straighter and more firm as he spoke. As Shouta watched him it suddenly occurred to him the boy had placed himself between him and Aiko, using his own body almost as a shield. The realization made his eyes widen, his gaze flitting back to Aiko to gauge her reaction.

She didn't look displeased by the obvious defiance, instead regarding him thoughtfully. "Not even me?" she asked, and Shouta saw the boy tense briefly before shaking his head.

"No, not even you, Aiko-nee," he confirmed quietly, fists clenching at his side. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Aiko's mouth curved into a faint smile, fondness sparkling among the star-like spots dotting her irises. "You're just doing what you think is right, hard to be angry at that." She held up her hands in a show of mock surrender as she stepped back, dipping her head. "I'll just head out then. Don't tell Tomura you saw me though," she added with a sheepish chuckle. "I kinda snuck in, and you know how he gets when I don't say hi to him or stop by when he's not around."

Midoriya looked startled by the request, but his shoulders soon slumped. "Are you actually trying to avoid him?"

"Maybe a little," she admitted far too cheerfully. "Anyways, see you later Izuku!" She darted forward long enough to ruffle his hair, laughing when he squawked in dismay. As he rushed to fix his hair she shot a glance at Shouta, making him stiffen as she added, "And you too, Eraserhead." He flinched at the thought of her returning, but bit his lip and kept silent. With a final wave she turned and left, the thud of the door leaving them in heavy silence.

Only then did Shouta finally let himself slump forward, exhaling a shaky breath as his heartbeat finally slowed to a more reasonable pace. Midoriya spun to face him as he slumped, darting over to his side and dropping into a crouch. "A—E-Eraserhead, sir?" he asked hurriedly. "Are you okay?"

Shouta blinked slowly, still processing what just happened, and took a deep breath as he looked up. Midoriya had an openly worried look on his face as he hovered just beyond Shouta's reach, the concern in his eyes feeling almost palpable. Whether it was genuine or faked, Shouta was in no state to determine right now, his mind still reeling from everything.

"What do you know about her?" he finally demanded, and the kid winced.

"...Um, if you mean what she does for the Alliance, n-not much?" he stammered. "Aiko-nee is basically my older sister, I guess, and we don't really... uh, talk about work."

So he didn't know, Shouta thought. The fact that the kid stood up to her like that, no matter how familiar and close they might be, already seemed to suggest he didn't know anyway, but his response just solidified it. The kid seemed to hesitate before looking at him, asking, "Um, how do you know her, if you don't mind me asking?"

Shouta flinched at the question, gritting his teeth as he looked down. "...If she wants you to know, you can ask her," he said roughly. He wouldn't be the one to out her secrets if she didn't want Midoriya to know. Given what he knew of her, angering her could very well be a death sentence and he would rather not die just yet.

At the same time though, denying Midoriya might just upset him. The realization sent a cold chill through Shouta and he winced, eyes briefly widening in horror. "I'm sorry," he tacked on hurriedly. "But I just... I can't..." He trailed off, feeling his heart start to race again. Shit. This was so fucked up, he shouldn't be so anxious talking to a teenager, but—

(But had she been that much older than Midoriya was now?)

No. Stop thinking about it. He shook his head furiously, dispelling the thoughts and memories before they could fully form. "A—Eraserhead, sir?" Midoriya's meek voice brought him back to reality, and he looked up to find the kid watching him with a frantic look. Shouta could only look for a moment before tearing his gaze away again.

"I'm sorry," he repeated in a hoarse whisper, because he didn't know what else to say, couldn't bring himself to say anything else. The kid frowned in his peripheral vision, and for a moment Shouta feared he'd try to push for more anyway, or get mad he refused. But to his eternal relief Midoriya seemed to decide against it.

"Okay," he said. "But also, um... I'm sorry." That startled Shouta, head snapping back up and eyes going wide as Midoriya stammered, "A-about not bringing you breakfast this morning, or stopping by. I—it's just, after last night, I just..." He trailed off, frowning and shaking his head. "I shouldn't have avoided you today. I'm sorry."

Shouta just stared dumbly, still stunned to have gotten an apology for anything. And for something so small? Shouta had been the one who'd intentionally pushed the kid to his breaking point, until whatever happened last night. With how it ended, he'd be surprised if the kid wanted anything to do with him—

And then it suddenly hit him: Midoriya was here.

Despite everything that happened last night, despite all his anxieties from that morning, Midoriya came back. The kid actually came back. Maybe it was the shock of that realization, maybe it was just nerves from the previous five minutes, but at long last Shouta finally, finally felt like his head had cleared, his mind once more grounded in the present. And with that came familiar rationality.

All at once he felt the energy drain from his shoulders, heaving a heavy sigh. "...Kid, if anyone should apologize, it's me," he said, and now it was Midoriya's turn to be surprised. Shouta didn't look at him as he muttered, "I'm the one that provoked you last night until... whatever happened."

He grimaced, not sure how to even approach whatever that was. Part of him wanted to ask about, because despite how it initially looked that wasn't a panic attack. Now was not the time though, nor did he know if the kid would even answer, so he instead continued, "I shouldn't have pushed you like that. And besides, you were right."

The last part pushed Midoriya's surprise to peak levels, confusion now lacing his expression while Shouta hung his head. "About what?" he asked after a few seconds.

"The heroes won't know what they're getting into," Shouta said gruffly, and felt the air grow heavier.

Izuku spent an hour with Aizawa, shoulders feeling heavier than they had in a long time when he stepped out of the room. They hadn't really talked much after that last bit, but he had been wary to leave so soon after Aiko left, and he felt like Aizawa felt just as wary of being left alone.

He couldn't get the brief encounter with Aiko out of his mind. When he threw open the door, he felt like all of his fears had been confirmed. Aizawa actually flinched, and when their eyes met Izuku realized Toga hadn't been exaggerating about how bloodshot they were compared to normal. Worse though, he could see the tension in Aizawa's body, coiled up and clearly threatened. Izuku had never seen his teacher look so vulnerable.

Placing himself between them had been pure instinct. Standing up to Aiko like that made his nerve rankle like never before, even as she smiled and acted so friendly, but he couldn't ignore Aizawa's discomfort. Aizawa had been there for him so many times in his own world, he literally risked his life to protect him and all his other classmates. Returning the favor felt natural, even if it wasn't their teacher.

That instinct only grew stronger as Izuku confronted Aiko. Aizawa spent the full time on the defensive, and only when the door closed did he finally, finally relax again. Even then though he didn't completely lose the tension, still clearly on edge for the majority of the visit. Izuku had no idea what happened before he showed up, what Aiko said or did, but the man looked more shaken than he'd thought possible.

Now more than ever, Izuku wanted to tell Aizawa that he was on his side and about the escape, but he couldn't. The way Aizawa looked and acted, he was clearly disturbed by the visit from Aiko and not in the best frame of mind. What terrified Izuku the most though was the anxiety Aizawa briefly showed before he apologized for refusing to tell him about his history with Aiko, how he'd been unable to even finish his senteces. And then later, the sheer relief that briefly flickered on Aizawa's face before he apologized for provoking him last night.

Izuku wasn't an expert in these things, but there was something very, very wrong with the power dynamic here. That much had been obvious from the very start, the man was a prisoner after all, but Aizawa's behavior made him realize there was even more than he'd initially realized. There just seemed to be some sort of—of desperation, maybe. Something frantic and fearful. Whatever it was left Izuku feeling cold.

Telling Aizawa anything with him in that state, while it might give the man some relief, felt like a bad idea in the long run. He wasn't thinking clearly, and when his mind did clear up, how would he react? Would he believe it, or would he think Izuku had been taking advantage of his current state? Would it just make him double down on his doubts, and later accuse Izuku of trying to fool him again?

So, no. Izuku's gut said now was not the time to tell him, and he had no better idea than to trust it for now.

He frowned as he finally reached his room and closed the door, heading to the desk to grab his phone. This couldn't go on much longer. They needed to get out, and to that end he opened up the group chat, mind flicking to the cuff still wrapped up in his pocket.

'Guys, could you push the meeting back to Tuesday? Or at least tomorrow evening? I need to meet up with Uraraka first. I might have something I need delivered to Hatsume'

Around the same time Ran sat alone in a park with Nakamura, having just filled him in on the situation. The older teen had never looked quite as grave as he did then, shoulders slumped and one hand pressed to the bridge of his nose.

"This is bad," he said after several long moments. "Very, very bad."

"Yep," she agreed with a nod.

"We are not telling anyone the full details," he added.

"Nope." That much was obvious.

"I'll read in Glitch, and come up with something to tell the others," he continued. "We'll meet up with these guys, or spy on them, or something, and... get the rest of the details, I guess?" He dragged his hand down his face. "Do you want to hijack one of my ears or something when the meeting comes around?"

"That would be helpful," Ran agreed with a nod. "Text me when it's time, I'll cut class if I have to."

"Great," he growled under his breath, hanging his head with a tired sigh. "I hate this."

"That makes two of us."

This meeting was going to suck.

OMAKE: Seiko's Masterpiece

Later that evening, Tomura was walking through the halls on his way to visit Izuku when he heard the familiar sounds of Twice arguing with himself. "What the heck is that thing? It's terrifying! The blossoms are so pretty! This is going to haunt my nightmares!"

"I know, right?" Slycer's voice muttered. "This is some real nightmare shit..."

"The presentation is certainly... effective," Compress hummed, sounding mildly unsettled. At that point Tomura found his curiosity officially piqued, and changed course to go to that hallway. He turned the corner to find a small crowd standing in front of a wall, including Magne, Mustard, and a bunch of other mooks whose names he didn't bother learning.

"What the hell's going on?" he grumbled as he tromped over, only to stop and join them in gaping at a wall.

A grotesque tree had been scribbled on it in what looked almost like blood, the branches filled in with light pink petals and adorned by nooses used to hang multiple bodies. The scratchily-drawn expressions made them look like they were in unspeakable agony, mouths open and eyes screwed tightly shut. Most dangled limply, arms hanging at their sides with eerily defined fingers compared to the rest of their largely basic silhouettes. He couldn't help notice how all the scratchiness of the red made the fingertips look almost bloody.

And as if that wasn't enough, a severed human head sat in the hollow of the tree. Far more detailed than the hanging bodies, with fully defined eyes and a mouth partially open as if gasping for air for lungs it no longer possessed.

That was when Tomura decided, Fuck this. "Fuck this," he said out loud, just for good measure. "What the actual fuck. Who drew this shit?"

"I don't know, but I think they need therapy," Magne proclaimed solemnly, getting several solemn nods of agreement. For once Tomura couldn't even disagree, because there was just something messed up about that drawing.

In the end, he didn't visit Izuku that night. The rest of the night was devoted to investigating who the heck made that drawing, with no success. Mainly because no one came forward to claim responsibility, and then devolved into ridiculous conspiracy theories about supernatural entities, much to his irritation.

(As she watched from the shadows as the Alliance argued over theories about ghosts of dead patients coming back to haunt them, Seiko silently decided her drawing to be a roaring success.)

No question this week, either. Looking forward to your reactions.