There are four fundamental forces in the mechanism of the Universe as we know it—four basic forces that even kindergarteners know.

(Disclaimer: that Momo thinks kindergarteners know.)

The first is electromagnetism; one that we can find anywhere in consumer science. Second is the strong nuclear force that holds atoms together. And then the weak force: one that cannot hold nucleus together. The weak force is the force of particle decay—literally—which allows one to perceive the rate of the decay, which in return allows one to theoretically estimate the geological clock—the time of the birth of the universe and so and so. Which, by the way, has been done.

Everyone knows these basic facts, of course.

(Disclaimer #2: Momo is a prodigy in many subjects, and physics being one of them.)

But the last force is the trickiest one. One that doesn't obey the same rules as the others. Which is—

"Incredible Quirk," says Midoriya Izuku. He sounds somewhat excited, in a little dazed kind of way.

"Um," says Uraraka Ochako. "Thanks?" and then, "wait, how did you know my—"

"Amazing," Midoriya continues. His eyes are wide with literal child-like wonder as he walks in a circle around Uraraka as if she is a science exhibition. Ochako is starting to look uncomfortable, if extremely confused. "Magnificent. That's insane," he looks at Ochako in the eye with genuine curiosity. "How does it feel to have the Authority to undo the curvature of space-time?"

Ochako stares. "I," she starts, and then stops. She looks disproportionately flabbergasted for a moment, before a thoughtful look sinks on her face. "Huh," she says.

"You know, Uraraka-san," says Midoriya, with some sort of disinterested eagerness, "are you interested in the occ—"

"NO," says Momo way more loudly than she ought.

The whole class turns to look at her.

Momo clears her throat.

"As the vice class representative," says Momo in an admirably dignified tone despite her recent lapses to insanity, "I ask you to proceed with this ... procedure as efficiently as possible. Occult recruiting, as far as I know, is not within schedule," Momo smiles tightly. "We do so hate to waste more of your time, Midoriya-san."

"Oh, of course," says Midoriya with a soft and falsely apologetic laugh, as if to say, silly me. "How very thoughtful of you, Yaoyorozu-san! Right, everyone; we need to be on time."

Iida raises a questioning brow. "On time? Do we really need to be in such a hurry?"

"Oh, yes," says Midoriya, who continues to rummage around his backpack. "I have an urgent appointment after this, you see. I would hate to be late for Aunty Mitsuki's dinner."

"Aunty Mitsuki," Krisihima repeats, slowly. "That's—"

"Kacchan's mom," confirms Midoriya.

The whole class turns to look at Bakugou Katsuki who is seething at the very corner of the living room.

"Shut up," says Bakugou, even though no one says anything.

"Oh, have you guys not met her?" says Midoriya bemusedly as if the idea of Bakugou's classmates never meeting Bakugou's mom is baffling. "She is so nice. She looks exactly like Kacchan," he adds, after a pause, "without the Kacchan-ness."

"Shut the fuck up," says Bakugou.

"Oh, I would love to meet her," says Ashido Mina, who does not fear death. "Do you think you can put some good words to her for me, Midoriya-kun? I just, like, want to get to know Bakugou better sooooo bad."

"Of course," chirps Midoriya readily.

"I will gut you, Raccoon," threatens Bakugou, which only gets a wink from Mina (who, again, does not fear death). "And Deku. Hurry the fuck up."

And then he turns on his heels (dramatically) and stomps away (very dramatically) up the stairs.

Kirishima puts his hands around his mouth in a cone and yells. "Where're you going, bro?"

"My fucking room!"

"I brought back the shoujo manga you lent me, Kacchan," yells Midoriya too.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

"This class never fails to entertain me," says Tsuyu serenely.

Momo is starting to think that they will never get on with it when Midoriya proclaims loudly, "aha!" and pulls out a tinier bag out of his bag and dumps its contents to the ground.

The contents fall on the granite floor with a loud and continuous jingling.

"Here you go," Midoriya takes one from the pile and hands it, curiously, to Momo.

Momo hesitantly accepts it and inspects it. The bell jingles as she takes it into her hand.

"Omamori," says Momo redundantly.

Omamori, and lots of them too—dozens, must be, in different colors and sizes. "One for each of you," says Midoriya kindly, as if they should be grateful that he is giving them a great favor. "Or you can take more than one, I have a lot," to demonstrate this, Midoriya shakes his (bigger) bag, which then produces many more jingling noises.

"Ooh, I want the pink one," says Toru.

"That one looks so cute!"

The class crowds around the piles and piles of good luck charms like children to candies.

"Midoriya-kun, do you have a good luck charm for l'amour?"

"What about health? My gastric acid is super acting up lately."

"I want one for good grades," says Kaminari.

"Kinda missing the point here, guys," says Ojiro. "Um, Midoriya-san … so, uh, are you going to perform Harae?"

"Oh, no," says Midoriya, sounding incredulous by the notion. "I'm nowhere near qualified to do that. I'm not a priest, you see."

"We can see," says Kyouka dryly, picking up a charm. "We can see that just fine."

Ojiro persists. "Um. But you are going to perform cleansing."

"Yep."

"And the omamori … are these," Kirishima squints to inspect one. "Like, legit?"

"My mom used to be a shrine maiden," explains Midoriya cheerfully. "So I get a bunch of these for free all the time. I thought I could share."

"Right," says Ojiro the same moment Sato says, "Midoriya-san, can I take some home for my sister?"

"Of course, Sato-san," says Midoriya kindly. He looks back at Ojiro. "I mean, you guys could certainly use some luck. A lot of luck, really," and then he does not elaborate. "A lot of them."

Ojiro looks mildly disturbed.

Momo has had enough. "The cleansing, Midoriya-san."

"Oh, right," says Midoriya. "Well. Do you wish to be my assistant today, Yaoyorozu-san? Hitoshi will be your senpai, of course."

Hitoshi, who has been emulating a statue quietly in the corner occupied previously by Bakugou, says, "no."

"Yes," says Momo.

Kyouka raises her hand. "Is this a class-mandatory activity?"

"No," says Iida, "but as it is your right to observe the assurance of your safety, any of you are welcomed to—"

"Okay," Kyouka stands up. To Momo, with great graveness, she says, "don't disappear from this plane, Momo," and to the others, "goodbye." She turns on her heels and follows Bakugou's example of departure.

"Whaaat?" Kaminari pauses. "You know what, me too, though."

"I'm a skeptic," Sero announces to the room. "Not gonna lie, kinda wanna know how this is going to go though, so if anyone sees any demons—snapchat me."

Ojiro shifts his tail. "I, um, my gramps has always told me not to mess with this kinda thing.."

"Wise," murmurs Shinsou Hitoshi.

"My bunnies have anxiety ," sign Koda. " Can you please keep it quiet on the third floor ?"

"Sure thing," chirps Midoriya.

Shinsou is seen shaking his head at his corner to himself for some unfathomable reason, muttering under his breath, "..did it have to be 1-A? Should've gotten to 1-B.."

"Psst, Midoriya-san," Kirishima ambles to Midoriya secretively. "Can you tell me what shoujo manga he lent you? I kinda wanna tease him about it."

"It's Ao Haru Ride."

"Whoa, seriously?"

"He said it's cathartic to yell at the 'dumbass romance characters that won't get together over the stupidest fucking thing,'" Midoriya recites Bakugou's exact words. It's a little jarring to hear him say a bad word, somehow. Doesn't quite fit his looks. "But I think he just likes the storyline."

"This is the best day of my life," says Kirishima before he leaves. To his demise, presumably.

"I shall take my leave too, then," Tokoyami nobly says. "I have to introduce Iida-kun to the wonderful and rigorous world of Legend of Zelda to deepen our bond."

"Iida-kun, you aren't going to come with?"

Iida pushes his glasses up his nose. "Well, Tokoyami-kun, I do think it should be my duty as the class rep—"

"To connect better with your classmates, which is I," Tokoyami says. "And I have the duty to you, as a trusted companion, in enlightening your unfortunate lack of knowledge in video games. Well then, Cursed One," he salutes Midoriya with a grave solemness, "I trust you in correcting the altercation of dissonance in our kismet strings."

"Appreciated, Shadowed One."

"Well, that's unexpected," Ochako notes. Nearly all of the class is gone now. Hagakure is helping Sato to make some cookies, apparently, and Todoroki is visiting his siblings. Which then leaves—

"Fuuuck yeah!" Mina abruptly goes to tackle Momo in a hug so hard she coughs. "1-A girls FTW! Minus Toru and Kyouka! Plus Shinsou-kun." She pauses. "You know what? Shinsou-kun, you are an honorary 1-A girl now."

"Great," says the newly crowned honorary 1-A girl.

"Great!" echoes Midoriya cheerfully. "Well then, shall we?"

"Where are we going?" Momo inquires suspiciously.

"Mm, around," says Midoriya vaguely, starting to walk in the direction of the stairs. They follow dutifully—Ochako and Mina vibrating with excitement behind Midoriya, followed by Asui, and then Momo with Shinsou.

Shinsou, who looks like he'd rather chew glass than be here. "Do you really need us to … accompany you?"

"Oh, yes," Midoriya says, walking up the stairs with ease. He glances back at Shinsou with something like amusement in his eyes. "This is your home and I'm a guest, after all. I don't exactly have an Authority here without your consent, you know."

And what does that mean?

"I wish you could, for once," Shinsou says as they reach the second floor, "speak like a normal fucking person."

There is nothing unusual on the second floor as far as Momo is aware. Then again, she doesn't really have the full information yet of what an exorcism entail—

"Eh," Midoriya says, hands on his hips. "This floor looks fine. Let's go."

Huh? "Wait a minute," says Momo, "just like that?"

"Well, does anything seem abnormal to you?"

Momo blinks. No, obviously, but that's because—how … does this whole thing even work , again? "The last time you were here," Momo tries, "Kyouka told me that you used talismans.."

"Oh yeah, I did," Midoriya says, taking a step to the stairs.

"Oh yeah, I saw!" Mina looks thrilled by the prospect. "OMG, can I have one, pretty please, Midoriya-kun?"

"I'm not using any this time," Midoriya says, and he actually does seem apologetic to Mina as he says that, as if a talisman is like, a freaking Nintendo DS.

"Aw."

"I'm not actually eligible to use one in the first place, anyway."

Not very comforting to hear Midoriya discrediting his legibility, but they've gone well past that, Momo supposes. "But you used them. So you can use them?"

Midoriya tilts his head at her. "Yes," he says, as he waits for them at the top of the stairs. Third floor, now. "But not really in the way they are supposed to be used."

"Supposed to be?"

Midoriya shrugs, walking around the hallway, hands in the pocket of his hoodie. "Well, talismans and charms are religious, apotropaic objects. They stand on their own, you could say, whilst attaining their purposes and applications. But I'm not affiliated with any of that, you see," he says. "I use them more symbolically, than anything. Which, hey, you can argue is religious, on some level, but I'm sure no religion, organized or otherwise, would be happy to be associated with what I do. And the way I use them is like, completely wrong to their standards. Oh, nothing out of ordinary with this floor either."

Momo blinks, processing the long strings of sentences. She feels like there are some important points there that went over her head.

"You did say to Ojiro-kun that you aren't a priest," Tsuyu says curiously, watching Midoriya walk around and knocking at walls, for some reason.

"Definitely not."

What did Kyouka say again? "You are a part-time exorcist."

"That's me," Midoriya agrees. "The money is pretty good, you know. Do you want to know my rates? I have a name card, actually.."

"Oh, really," Ochako says with great interest, reaching to take one, and Momo, who is concerned by the wellbeing of her classmate, pulls her back.

"So you are doing this for money," Momo says, not accusingly. It's not a necessarily dishonorable thing. Momo isn't naive enough to think such a thing is ignoble, working for profit. She has been fortunate enough to be born in a well-off family, and she can recognize that privilege. What she wants is—a confirmation, she supposes.

"Everything has a price," Midoriya says, walking up the stairs again. "For every force, there is an equal, reciprocal reaction … don't you agree, Yaoyorozu-san?"

Newton's third law. Everyone knows that. "Even in human action?"

Something minutely changes in Midoriya's voice as he replies, though Momo isn't sure what. "Especially in human action."

"I can't believe you guys speak the same language," murmurs Shinsou behind her.

"What about this floor, Midoriya-kun?" Mina says. "Wait, OMG, I can't believe we haven't been recording. Ochako!"

Ochako slaps her head. "Oh, right! You know, Pony-chan lent me her camera.."

"Oh, 1-B's Pony?"

Following the others up the stairs, Momo steps into the fourth floor, and then—

"Oh," mutters Midoriya softly. He touches the side of the wall next to Shouji's door. "That's interesting."

Momo isn't sure what happened, or what changed.

"God damn it."

Momo turns to look at Shinsou. Just like her, he looks noticeably uncomfortable, all of a sudden. "God damn it," the boy repeats. "Midoriya, is.."

Midoriya hums. He isn't smiling. Momo only notices that Midoriya has been smiling the whole time the moment he stops doing so. "Let's take a walk, shall we? I think this might be it."

"Hell yeah!" Mina exclaims. "Demons, it's ya girl!"

"VLOG TIME," Uraraka exclaims.

Momo feels strange. Her surroundings feel strange. The world feels strange. How do you describe it, she wonders? How do you describe that feeling, that odd, sinking feeling under your skin—a deep rooted sensation of knowing that you are not supposed to be here?

"First time?" Shinsou asks with a tight voice.

Momo swallows. How do you describe it? How do you describe—that sinking feeling, that block of ice at the pit of your stomach? Like the moment you walk into an area you don't recognize. She looks around—the fourth floor. The layout is the same as the other floors. The window at the end of the hall is open, evening sun pouring in with light. Nothing is out of ordinary. Everything looks fine.

Then why is every cell in her body telling her that something is Wrong?

"Huh?" Ochako fumbles with Pony's camera. "I think I'm doing this wrong, it's kinda not taking anything?"

"Let me see.." Mina frowns, checking out said camera as they walk through the hallway. "Huh, you're right.."

Even their footsteps, Momo thinks, their footsteps sound wrong. Like it's stifled. Like it's an imitation of what someone thinks footsteps sound like.

"So, Midoriya-kun," Tsuyu says. "Why does Tokoyami-kun call you Cursed One?"

"Because I'm cursed," answers Midoriya readily, as if she just asked about the weather.

The girls turn to look at Shinsou.

"Is that true?" Mina urges.

"Why are you asking me?" the guy says.

The girls look at each other. Ochako shrugs. "Well, you guys seem close."

"We are not—" Shinsou cuts himself off with a sigh. "How should I know? We met like … three months ago. I don't even have his phone number!"

"I have your phone number," adds Midoriya helpfully.

Shinsou glares at him in this terribly exasperated way. "..I'm not even gonna ask."

"See, you're perfect for each other," says Mina.

"Aww," says Tsuyu very flatly, and then to Midoriya, "Does the curse have to do with the scar on your head?"

Everyone except Midoriya turns to look at her.

No one expected anything less from Asui Tsuyu.

Midoriya doesn't seem to mind the outstandingly intrusive question, however. "Oh, this?" Midoriya gestured at his scar. Stark pink flesh bulging against the skin of his head. "I fell."

"You fell," she repeats.

"Stop looking at me I don't know," says Shinsou when the girls turn to look at him again.

"So you are cursed," Momo says, eyeing Midoriya warily. She has started to sweat a little, she notices. "And we are cursed, supposedly. And yet you are here to … fix us?"

Midoriya turns to look at her, and she can't help but back up a little bit. There is something in her—call it instinct—that tells her that it's never a good thing to have … Midoriya's attention on her.

Midoriya considers her for a moment. He smiles—a vague, blithe thing. "Oh, yes," he says, and his word is almost a drawl. "Being cursed instantly makes me an expert on curses, don't you think?"

From her peripheral, she sees Shinsou shift uncomfortably. She shares the sentiment.

"Momo-chan has a point, though," Tsuyu points out. She too evidently does not fear death. "If you can't fix your own curse, how are you going to fix our curse?"

It's quick, but for a moment—Midoriya's smile shifts into something sharper. Like he's smiling for real. "Fix , huh?" he mulls. "Fixing curses isn't exactly what I do. Curses aren't mistakes, you see."

"What does that—"

"Curses aren't mistakes," Midoriya continues. "Curses make you mistakes."

"Hey," Shinsou says, cutting everyone off. "Isn't this hallway like … really fucking long?"

Tsuyu looks around. "Now that you say it," she says. "I feel like we've passed Bakugou's room already."

"Oh no, did I break Pony-chan's camera?" Ochako laments, devastated. "Oh, god … goodbye, two months worth of lunch money.."

"GUYS."

They turn to look at Shinsou. The guy clears his throat. And then he looks at them. "I want to try something."

"Okay, geez, no need to yell about it," Mina huffs, and despite everything, Shinsou looks a little sheepish by that. But nevertheless, he begins to walk past them.

They watch as his back gets smaller and smaller as he approaches the end of the hall. And then—

"The hell."

All of them turn to look at Shinsou who is somehow standing behind them.

Shinsou looks as stunned as they are, his face pale and eyes wide.

"Fuck me," Shinsou says after a long pause. "The hall is looping."

"Oh my god," says Mina with an inappropriate amount of excitement, "this is one of those endless corridor tropes, isn't it?"

"We could be dying right now," Shinsou reminds her.

"I have to instastory this," Mina says.

"Dying," Shinsou repeats.

"Hmm," says Midoriya. "Let me try," and then he too, like Shinsou, walks to the end of the hall.

Momo squints, watching Midoriya approach the window, not letting him away from her line of sight.

"Oh," says a voice behind them, and Momo starts.

Midoriya too, like Shinsou, is somehow standing behind them. He looks contemplative. "Ah. Yeah. The hall is looping."

Momo looks back to the Midoriya at the end of the hall—who is just suddenly not there. "What the hell," says Mina.

"Why don't we try together?" Midoriya suggests.

They do. Their position doesn't change; Midoriya at the front, followed by the girls, and then Shinsou. They walk from the stairs passing Shouji's door, and then Kirishima's, and then Bakugou's…

How is the window so far away?

They're back at Shouji's door again.

"What if we go downstairs?" suggests Ochako.

"Oh, good one."

They turn the other way around to the direction of the stairs. They pass Shouji's door, and then Bakugou's door, and then Kirishima's door, and then Shouji's door again—

"Yeah, nope," says Midoriya with that same contemplative voice.

"What the fuck," says Shinsou distressedly.

"What the fuck," says Mina gleefully.

"Fuck this," Shinsou says, "I'm gonna try opening one of the doors."

Shinsou turns to the direction of the nearest door—Kirishima's—and proceeds to reach for the handle.

Except he never does.

There isn't really any way to explain it. Just like how they could never reach the window, or the stairs, Shinsou can't reach the door. Any door. He walks towards them—and they all can see him walking towards it—but he never gets there.

It's not as if he's walking in place, or as if the door runs away from him—he just doesn't quite get there.

After a long silence, Shinsou turns back at them.

"I hate my life," he says.

Tsuyu sounds somewhat perturbed. Only somewhat. "Did we just … get sent into a pocket dimension?"

"Pocket dimension?" Midoriya gives this a thought. "Hm. It's a little the other way around, actually."

And that feeling just gets stronger—that insistent pressure in her tummy. Telling her that she shouldn't be here. That odd sensation when you are in a hotel hallway, or an abandoned parking lot, or an empty airport, or a mini-mart at three in the morning. An unease. The hairs rising at the back of your neck. Everything is slightly off, and you know that reality isn't whole.

Momo knows that she is standing at a threshold, the edge of the cliff between here and there. She knows that this isn't her Domain. That she isn't made for this particular Side—

Oh.

A liminal space.

The hall has turned into a liminal space.

"Hey, I can't—um. Huh, something is up with my phone camera," says Mina, and she sounds a little panicked. Panicked that her phone might be broken more than anything.

Shrugging off whatever the hell is going on with her, Momo glances at her. "What's wrong with it?" Ochako says.

"Dunno, it's kinda wacky. Look at the pics," Mina huffs, showing her the gallery.

"Oh, that's super weird," Ochako says, "cuz Pony's camera shows that too, see—"

"Maybe you overloaded your memory storage," Tsuyu suggests.

"But I moved all of the junk to the iCloud.."

"Let me see," Momo says, moving closer. Both of them turn to her to show the images on their respective devices. Momo stares.

Static. It's all static. No shapes, no nothing—just static, snow, ants..

And then it clicks.

"Cosmic microwave background," Momo breathes.

The other girls turn to look at her. "Huh?"

Momo takes Mina's phone and aims the camera at them. She hits record, then stop, and plays back the media. Static again. No sound, just static. Just like those you see in the in between channels on TV.

"Momo-chan? You look kinda pale," Tsuyu says.

"'Microwave'?" Mina repeats with distinct concern. "Momo, are you feeling alright?"

"Microwave," Momo nods, sounding insane even to herself. "Microwave. Low-energy form of radiation, you do know—"

The universe was created 13.8 billion years ago. At the outset of the one singularity known as the Big Bang , it expanded—trillion times—and then the creation of the first generation of stars, 400 millions after..

And the cosmic microwave background radiation is the ancient light from the Big Bang itself.

"What?"

"Light," Momo says, impatiently. She shoves the phone back to Mina's hands, who looks bewildered. "The Universe is filled with galaxies, two trillions that we can observe, their stars are like ours, protons, neutrons and electrons, but the light that we receive. Their light, it's different, the atomic transitions shift—"

"Yaoyorozu," Shinsou says, and even he sounds worried, "are you having a breakdown right now?"

"—they shift because the galaxies are parsing apart, but the density of the Universe is constant," Momo rambles, feeling a little high, hands moving to grasp Mina's shoulders a little wildly. The latter looks back at her like she's out of her mind. "Or the Fabric of Space itself is expanding."

"Literally what are you talking about," says Mina, in awe of her friend's sudden lapse of sanity.

"Don't you see? Cosmic microwave background is the afterglow of the genesis, the Big Bang, it's the heat leftover from the creation of Everything. It's everywhere, it Blankets us, but we can't see it, not with our naked eye, because it's so cold. 2.72548±0.00057 Kelvin—"

"Momo.."

"But sometimes they can be caught," Momo says, and she's getting to her point, she swears . "It can be detectable in the range of microwave to radio frequencies, and you can catch that in devices such as TV. Or.."

They all look at Mina's phone.

"Nothing is wrong with your phone. It's what it captures," and then Momo turns to Midoriya, who has been watching them quietly for some time. "Where are we?"

Midoriya blinks back at them—slow, unbothered. Hands in his pockets. He's smaller than Momo—much shorter. Even though he's taller than them by a few centimeters, even the girls look somehow bigger than him. Momo eyes his hoodie—old, the color a soft blue, All Might patterns—and his dark jeans. Both are several sizes too big. He looks like a kid.

But not like them.

Shinsou moves behind her. "Midoriya," he says, "are we on the Other Side?"

It takes Midoriya a little to respond. He averts his eyes, glancing lazily around. "No," Midoriya says. No smile. "Not quite. We are on the Edge, more like."

"The Edge," Shinsou repeats, sounding lost. "That never—"

"This is your first time," Midoriya says softly. "Congratulations."

"What, are we like … is this like, in Insidious or something?"

"And we can't snapchat?"

"That's your problem?"

"But," Uraraka says wistfully. "I got the tripod and everything. Oh no, my 1-A Unsolved pitch.."

"I even wore liptint," says Ashido in disappointment. "And my new top."

"You look very hot, Mina."

"Thank you, Ochako. You cutie, you."

"Something to do with dimensional conundrum and stuff," says Midoriya helpfully. He's still looking around "First generation nokias work just fine, though."

"My youtube career," laments Uraraka.

"You guys are way calmer than you ought to be," Shinsou says, shaking his head. "I don't fucking get it."

"We are in 1-A," Tsuyu points out.

"Yeah, but like I said, you guys might be in a life or death situ—" Shinsou stops, putting life or death situations and 1-A together. "Right. Okay. That's fair."

"Dimensional conundrum," Momo repeats. What did Midoriya say? Not a pocket dimension, and a little the other way around? And what the camera caught.. The Edge, a threshold— "Which dimension are you talking about right now?"

Midoriya turns from inspecting a crack in the wall to Momo. There is something like amusement in his face. "How many dimensions do you think there are?"

"At least ten," answers Momo immediately. Some theories say there are eleven. Some say twenty-six. That is—"According to String Theory, the math requires at least that much."

"The math, huh?" Midoriya mulls. And something about the way he says it—like there is an inside joke between Midoriya and the Universe that the rest of them don't get a say in. "Ten, One, Three-hundred. You are talking integers. There is an x number of universes, you say," the smile returns, cloudy, murky. Like acidic rainwater. "That's cute."

"Are you saying there is—what, a rational number set of dimensions?" Or irrational, or real, or any fractional, impurenumber set of dimensions? Momo huffs a hysterical laugh. "That's insane, that'll—that doesn't compute."

"Thinking that the Universe requires a rounded, logical calculation in the understanding scope of the 23rd century's math to be the way it is? Of course that doesn't compute, " Midoriya replies. "The Universe isn't as kind, or understanding."

Isn't as kind, or understanding.

Momo's blood runs cold. "No, no," she says. "You're disproving—centuries old Theory of Everything, on the basis of, what—"

"I understand that you have a PhD, Momo," Mina says, "but I don't understand any of these, like, Interstellar, Christoper Nolan ass dialogues."

"Oh, nice movie," Ochako says.

"But," Momo insists, "this doesn't make a coherent theoretical framework of physics at all—"

"If anyone even mentions one more scientific jargon that I don't understand," Shinsou announces, "I'm going to commit classticide."

"Aren't they, like, talking about alternate realities, or something?" Ochako says. "Like, for example, a reality where I'm straight."

She and Mina high-five. Shinsou looks like he's given all hope.

"That's parallel universes, Ochako-chan," Tsuyu says. "Dimensions are different. You could say they are the way we perceive reality. One dimensional space, a dot. Two dimensional space, a line. Three dimensional space, x-y-z axes—the one that we are in, right now."

"Hey," Mina perks up. "I think I've heard of that. On a podcast or something."

"Ooh," Ochako says, holding Mina's arm. "That reminds me, Mina, that astrology podcast you recommended me is like, super enlightening.."

"I know, right!"

"Which podcast?"

"Oh, I'll link you up later, Tsuyu-chan."

Shinsou, who would like to keep everything on track because clearly these girls have the attention span of a fruit fly and no investment whatsoever to their own well-being, says, "what about the other dimensions?"

"Well, most theories say there are ten dimensions," Tsuyu shrugs. "I don't remember the rest, though. I just skim through them on wikipedia, you know. I think the fourth one is perceiving time, or something."

"And we can't perceive them, these … dimensions?"

"Not that we know of," Momo says, having apparently snapped out of whatever crazed fugue she was in. "For example, imagine if you are a 2D being."

"Like," Shinsou frowns. "An anime character?"

Midoriya smiles at this, for some reason, though no one notices.

"Yes, like an anime character. You experience reality in the cartesian coordinates—x and y. You are just lines, two points meeting. No depth, no texture. How can you possibly look, or comprehend, a 3D object? How do you even imagine such a world? Your brain is simply not made to understand it, because you've lived your whole life in x and y."

Shinsou frowns, hand covering his mouth. "And that's just two dimensions."

"That's just two dimensions," Momo says, whipping to turn at Midoriya. "And he's saying there are more than ten, or twenty-six, or—"

"Again, Yaoyorozu-san," Midoriya says patiently, "that's a set of finite numbers—"

"—he's saying there are an infinite set of dimensions, and not even necessarily in a mathematical numeration that exist in our world. Do you understand how insane that is? How deranged ?" says Momo, who looks positively both insane and deranged. "Infinity—and does that include—"

"Negative infinity, yes," Midoriya confirms.

"A negative infinity of dimensions!" Momo says with an incredibly high pitch, throwing her hands up. Gone is the dignified, elegant deputy representative of 1-A; welcome, mad scientist. "That's inconceivable! That's abstract!"

"Most things are," says Midoriya.

"The Universe isn't abstract," Momo insists, "that's some epistemology bull. What next, you're going to say that we only exist in the form of concepts?"

"One existential crisis at a time, please," Hitoshi snaps. He turns to look at Midoriya alongside Momo. With their heights over Midoriya, both of them are positively looming threateningly above him. "Backtrack a fucking bit. So if dimensions are the facets in which we perceive reality, and there are a … in-fucking-finite set of dimensions, you're saying that—we can't—we can't ever perceive fundamental reality?"

"Oh, no," Midoriya, dwarfed before the two, nonchalantly says. "I'm saying you can perceive a fundamental reality."

Shinsou squints. "And being on the Edge means that—"

"We are at the threshold of each and every one of them," Midoriya confirms. "We are, as of now, surrounded by universes. Just a tad shy of perceiving every single dimension."

Mina and Ochako look at each other. "But didn't you guys just say that we can't do that?"

"You can't," Midoriya agrees. "That's why we should hurry this up and get you out of here ASAP. Wouldn't want your brains to melt or something."

"Melt, " Shinsou repeats, not with a small amount of horror.

Mina sighs. "At least I'll die in my cute top, if it comes down to it."

"The world will suffer a great loss," Ochako mourns.

"You guys should get your brains checked," Shinsou tells them. "I have concerns."

"You are an honorary 1-A girl now, Shinsou-kun," Ochako reminds him. "You are one of us, y'know."

"That's more terrifying than the notion that I am nothing but an abstract concept."

"Why are we here in the first place, anyway?" Tsuyu says. "I expected something more Sadako or like, satanism and stuff when we talk about curses."

"You would, wouldn't you," murmurs Shinsou.

"I mean, didn't you exorcise a demon the other day? Or are those not a thing anymore?"

"Oh, they're a thing, alright," Midoriya says. He takes out a small pouch from his hoodie and turns to look at them. "Okay. Everyone, form a circle please."

Mina gapes. "OMG, are we doing an exorcism now?"

"Yep, I'm going to exorcise the demon out of you, now."

"Hell yeah," Mina says, and the three of them—Mina, Tsuyu, and Ochako—obediently huddle together.

"Yayorozu-san, Hitoshi, will you please."

"I don't feel so good," Momo says. She really doesn't. The feeling has amplified just in the past nanosecond. "I think I'm going to throw up," and then she adds, "I think I'm not supposed to exist."

"Of course you do," Midoriya reminds her. "You are my assistant, remember? Hitoshi, be a good senpai, will you."

"What the hell am I supposed to do?" Shinsou hisses. He's palpably pale. "You know, I'm not—I'm not exactly all fine and dandy here either."

Midoriya sighs, like he is a tiny bit disappointed with the both of them. And then he takes Hitoshi's hand with his left and Momo's hand with his right—the gesture so casual and immediate and intimate that neither could respond.

Midoriya looks them in the eye. "I told you something," he says, softly. "Do you remember?"

"No," they say.

"That's right," Midoriya says, with the tone one would say good boy to a puppy. "But do you know?"

They do.

"That's right, assistants. So? Do you exist?"

They do.

"Perfect," Midoriya lets go of their hands. Without them realizing it, he had been guiding them to the circle with the other girls. "Can you guys gather like, a little closer, just a little—yep."

Midoriya's left hand does a flip, and the glint of metal catches the overhead light—since when did he have a knife?—as he stabs into the pouch in his right hand. From the whole, grains of salt pour out.

"OMG, this is so cool," Mina says, craning her neck to watch Midoriya form a circle of salt around them. "I feel like I'm being used as a sacrificial lamb."

"You aren't," Midoriya says, "not this time."

"Love it."

"That's pretty traditional, Midoriya-kun," Tsuyu notes.

"Symbolical," Midoriya reminds her. He takes a few steps back, examining his handicraft.

Tsuyu looks at him with a considering look. "What are demons?" she asks.

"Symptoms," Midoriya says. He is stretching, as if he is about to do a track run. "You guys are in more trouble than I thought you were," Midoriya says thoughtfully. "I think I misjudged something. I think I underestimated something."

Midoriya looks a little blank, as he says that. Blanker that he's been. Tsuyu blinks. "Symptoms of what?"

"Curses," he says. "You know, I didn't think it'd get this bad. But someone out there really, really, really wants you guys gone. Oh, finally," Midoriya finishes cracking his neck and turns towards the end of the hall—where the window is. "It's gonna be here, soon. Don't step out of the circle, 'kay, or I won't be able to guarantee your existence."

And then Something Happens.

How do you describe dissonance? Worse yet, how do you describe harmony?

How do you describe the static, the nauseous kaleidoscope of colors when you close your eyes? The seams separating you and Outside breaking apart like ruptured, surgical sutures? And when you bleed, the blood is in the form of wavelength—the color red that isn't a color at all. Red as a concept, pure unadulterated sensation of boom. Genesis. The Big One. And Black that isn't a color, but a space.

The Demon comes, manifests into the space like the quietest supernova. It eats away the hallway one by one, pixel by pixel, dot by dot, line by line—with its toothless and tongueless mouth. Unable to bear the yawning gap of reality, Nothingness replaces them. The abyss has never felt so full. The abyss has many eyes.

And the Doors open.

All of them. Each and every one. The ones that are there and the ones that are not, because existence and non-existence is a singularity all the same.

the Universes speak at the same time. together. In harmony. their voices clash and rupture and kiss. come here, they say, in a language of spheres and curves. come back. don't you want to go home? time is a direction, just like left and right, another variable on the coordinate. and space is nothing but a sham. come back. dust to dust. dot to dot.

isn't consciousness overrated?

"Very cute," says Midoriya Izuku with his bow and arrow made out of promises and broken hearts, rattan and gold leaves, chromatic static and butterfly wings. "But I can't allow you to do that. No offense, but playing god is kinda childish, don't you think? You should be ashamed of yourself."

The demon speaks. No, it screams. No, it laughs. No, it howls. No, it cries. No, it whimpers. No, it begs—

"Yeah, nope," Midoriya Izuku rolls his eyes. "Listen, I understand how you feel. And I sympathize, truly. But don't worry," Midoriya assures it nicely, "entropy isn't nearly as bad as it sounds."

The arrow doesn't rip through time and space so much as it cradles and unbuttons them with gentle, pinpoint precision. Time and space don't break apart so much as it opens up, petals unfurling like blooming flower, like candy-coaxed, giggling children. Everything undulates and stitches itself back up, like picture frames being reversed. There are so many colors in this world, and to one's relief, one cannot see most of them.

The Universe isn't that kind, or understanding. But this, right here, is shaped like sympathy.

"And that's a wrap," Midoriya Izuku says. "Good job, everyone. That wasn't so bad, was it?"

"I think the guys on the fourth should be a little careful. I'll bring a charm for that tomorrow," Midoriya slings his bag onto his shoulders.

"Fourth floor," Iida nods, frowning. "That's quite a superstitious number."

"Something like that," Midoriya says. And then he adds, thoughtfully, "I thought today was just going to be a cleansing, but that was another exorcism. I'm gonna have to ask Principal-san for an extra pay. And a contract change."

"An exorcism?" Sero says. "I didn't hear anything, though."

"It went very smoothly."

"Fuck you," says Shinsou flatly, who is still looking a little green. He is nibbling on one of Sato's cookies, to keep me from throwing my intestines up, as he had put it.

"Where are the others?" Midoriya says curiously. "Wasn't Yaoyorozu-san just here?"

"She went to the library."

"At this hour? There are no assignments for tomorrow."

"She said, and I quote, 'I think I have witnessed the intricate foundations of the singular all-encompassing framework of everything as we know and unknow it,' and just went," Hitoshi takes another cookie from the jar.

"I am very pleased for her," says Tokoyami who is currently playing League of Legends with Sero on the sofa. "Sounds like absolute bliss."

"I see," Iida says after a pause. "And Uraraka-kun, Ashido-kun, Asui-kun.."

"They went to get some pizza."

Iida sputters at that. "But it's past curfew soon! And they don't have permission, Aizawa-sensei will—"

"They said, and I quote, 'demise looms everywhere, and the curtains might close at any time if there is time at all. The abyss has no mercy. YOLO.'"

Silence.

"They kinda went off with that," Sero says. He adds, after some consideration, "I kinda regret not coming along, now.."

"Careful what you wish for," Shinsou mutters glumly.

"That's too bad, I wanted to thank them for their help," Midoriya says, sounding actually disappointed. "Well, tell them for me, Hitoshi! And of course, I'm grateful for your assistance as always," Midoriya gives him a thumbs up.

Hitoshi stares down at Midoriya's cheerful thumb. "I literally did nothing."

"Nah, you did plenty, all right. You and Yaoyorozu-san. Anyway, I'm going now! Thanks for your hospitality, 1-A."

"Thank god," Shinsou says as Midoriya skips to the entrance.

"Oh, right," Midoriya stops before he closes the door behind him, and looks back. "What's the next thing in your curriculum, if I may ask?"

The occupants of the living room look at each other. "After this we have—we got Hero Work-studies coming in.."

"Why are you asking that," Shinsou says, suspiciously.

Midoriya tilts his head. "As in an outing? So it's a field study."

"Yes, as far as I know, we will be conducting apprenticeship with Pro-Heroes," Iida confirms. "It's an off-campus activity."

"Didn't Aizawa-sensei mention we are going to be side-kicking, and stuff?"

"Midoriya," Shinsou stands up, cookies forgotten. "Why are you asking that ? Don't tell me you're gonna be—"

"Oh, fun," Midoriya says. "I always wanted to meet Heroes."