Chapter: Shadows of the Hero Killer

The atmosphere in Class 1-A was unusually subdued. The excitement from the recent sports festival had waned, replaced by the anticipation of choosing hero internships. A large screen at the front of the classroom displayed the names of pro heroes who had selected each student for sponsorships.

Todoroki's name stood out at the top of the list, his impressive victory at the sports festival having earned him an overwhelming number of offers. Bakugo followed closely, though his volatile demeanor had clearly deterred some heroes. Momo's name was further down the list, but she still had a respectable number of offers, reflecting her resourcefulness and intelligence. Yui's list was solid, though slightly fewer than her performance might have warranted, as her intense and often intimidating presence seemed to polarize viewers.

Lida's Change

Iida sat at his desk, staring at the screen, but his usual enthusiasm was absent. His usually rigid posture was slumped, and his eyes lacked their usual determined sparkle. His friends had noticed the change in him, but every time someone tried to ask, he brushed them off with a forced smile.

Momo leaned over to Yui, whispering softly, "I'm worried about Iida. He's been so quiet since the festival."

Yui, her voice low but sharp, replied, "I've noticed too. Something's wrong, but he's not talking about it. We'll have to keep an eye on him."

Momo nodded, but her own concerns were divided. A nagging thought had been eating away at her since hearing the news about the Hero Killer Stain. She hesitated before turning to Yui again, her voice quieter this time. "Yui… is your father working in Hosu right now?"

Yui froze for a fraction of a second, her sharp eyes darting toward Momo. "Why do you ask?"

Momo fidgeted with a pen in her hand, avoiding eye contact. "I'm worried. The Hero Killer is active there, and… you know how Uncle Mangetsu is. He's always throwing himself into dangerous situations."

Yui's expression hardened, her voice clipped. "He's a pro hero, Momo. He knows what he's doing. Don't underestimate him."

Momo flinched slightly at Yui's tone but pressed on. "I know, but… it's Stain, Yui. He's different. Even Endeavor is taking this seriously. If Uncle Mangetsu is in Hosu, he could be in danger."

Classroom Tensions

The tension between the cousins didn't go unnoticed. Todoroki glanced at them from his seat, his mismatched eyes narrowing slightly as he observed their exchange. Ochako, seated nearby, leaned over to whisper to Yui, "Are you okay? You seem tense."

Yui forced a smile, her usual calm facade slipping back into place. "I'm fine. Just thinking about the internships."

Ochako didn't look entirely convinced but nodded anyway, turning her attention back to the screen as their teacher, Aizawa, walked in.

"Alright, settle down," Aizawa said, his voice dry but commanding. "You've all seen the list of offers. Use your time wisely to decide where you'll intern. This is your chance to learn from the best and prepare for real-world hero work."

As Aizawa continued his explanation, Momo's mind wandered. She couldn't shake the uneasy feeling in her chest. Her uncle Mangetsu, known as the pro hero Bitsize, was a daring and skilled hero, but his recklessness had always worried her. The idea of him facing someone as dangerous as Stain was almost too much to bear.

Yui's Discomfort

Later, as the students broke off into groups to discuss their options, Yui found herself cornered by Momo in the hallway.

"Yui," Momo said, her voice firm but concerned. "Please, just tell me if your father is in Hosu. I need to know."

Yui's eyes flashed with a mix of irritation and something deeper—fear? She crossed her arms defensively. "I don't know, okay? He doesn't tell me everything about his work."

Momo studied her cousin carefully, noting the slight tremor in her voice and the way her fingers twitched at her sides. "Yui… if you do know, and you're just not telling me, I understand. But I have a right to be worried."

Yui sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. "Look, Momo, I get it. You care about him. But you can't always protect everyone, no matter how much you want to. Sometimes you just have to trust that they know what they're doing."

Momo nodded slowly, though her worry didn't abate. "I just hope you're right."

The Shadow of Stain

That evening, Momo sat in her dorm room, scrolling through news reports about the Hero Killer. His victims were piling up—pro heroes with spotless records, all struck down with brutal efficiency. The images of bloodied heroes lying helplessly in alleyways sent a chill down her spine.

She glanced at her phone, contemplating calling her uncle, but stopped herself. If Mangetsu was in Musutafu, she didn't want to distract him. Still, the unease lingered, gnawing at her insides like a slow poison.

Yui's Isolation

Yui sat in the dim glow of her laptop screen, the room heavy with silence. The soft hum of the computer was the only sound, but her thoughts roared louder than any noise. Her sharp eyes fixated on the image before her: a grainy, blood-splattered photograph of the Hero Killer, Stain. His tattered, menacing figure loomed on the screen, surrounded by images of his victims—fallen heroes with expressions frozen in terror.

Her lips curled ever so slightly, a flicker of admiration dancing across her face. She leaned closer to the screen, her fingers tracing over the blurred lines of Stain's blade. The way he moved, the precision of his attacks, the sheer artistry of his chaos—it captivated her. Each report she read felt like peeling back layers of an enigma she desperately wanted to understand.

"Efficient, unstoppable… perfect," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

A slideshow of photos displayed the aftermath of his work: heroes immobilized, their blood pooling beneath them. She tilted her head, studying the positioning of their bodies, the precision of his strikes. He didn't waste movements. Every cut, every blow served a purpose, almost as if he were painting with violence.

Yui's fingers hovered over the mouse, scrolling through a series of articles. Stain's Philosophy: Purging the False Heroes. The Vigilante Who Brings Justice Through Fear. Her breath hitched slightly as she read his words, bold and unyielding. "Only the worthy should call themselves heroes. The rest are nothing but fakes, deceiving the world."

She sat back in her chair, her reflection faintly visible in the dark screen. Her sharp features softened into something unreadable, her eyes distant. The faintest flicker of a smile touched her lips, but it wasn't one of amusement—it was something darker, something drawn from the depths of her own restless mind.

"They're all liars," she whispered to herself, her voice cold but steady. "All these so-called heroes… they build their lives on illusions. He's right. Stain's the only one who sees it. The only one who's honest."

The flickering light of the screen illuminated her face as she clicked on a video. It was grainy, taken from a distance, but it captured Stain mid-battle. His movements were like a predator stalking its prey, fluid yet deliberate. Each strike of his blade was precise, his reflexes honed to perfection. Yui leaned closer, her fingers gripping the edge of the desk.

"He doesn't hesitate," she muttered. "He doesn't second-guess. That's why he's unbeatable."

Her mind raced as she imagined herself in his place, moving through shadows, striking with precision, leaving chaos in her wake. The thought sent a shiver down her spine—not of fear, but of exhilaration. She wanted to understand him, to emulate him, to become someone the world would fear and revere in equal measure.

The Idolization Deepens

As the night stretched on, Yui dove deeper into Stain's history. She read accounts of his earliest actions, how he began as a simple vigilante before his ideology hardened into something more extreme. She noted every detail, every tactic. His ability to paralyze his opponents through their own blood—it was brilliant. A quirk weaponized not just for destruction but for control.

Control. The word lingered in her mind, echoing like a mantra. That's what Stain had, and that's what she craved. The ability to control her fate, her surroundings, her enemies.

The images of his victims reappeared on the screen. She studied their faces, searching for a flicker of resistance, a trace of strength. But all she saw was fear. It was intoxicating. Yui's fingers brushed her lips absentmindedly as her gaze lingered on a particularly vivid photo.

Her heart raced, and for a moment, she felt the rush of adrenaline as though she were standing in the midst of one of his battles. She could almost hear the echo of his voice, see the glint of his blade. Her breath quickened, and she clutched her chest as if trying to calm the storm inside.

"Someday," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the hum of her laptop. "Someday, I'll be like that. No one will stand in my way."

A Flicker of Darkness

The faintest trace of blood red filled her vision—not on the screen, but in her mind. Her thoughts shifted to her recent battles, the moments when her opponents bled. A strange warmth stirred within her, an unspoken thrill that she dared not acknowledge fully.

She shook her head, forcing herself to focus. But even as she closed the laptop, the images of Stain and his victims burned in her mind. She stood and walked to the mirror on the other side of the room, her reflection staring back at her.

Her fingers brushed her cheek, tracing the faint shadows under her eyes. "They don't understand," she murmured, almost to herself. "But they will. One day, they'll all understand."

For a moment, her reflection seemed unfamiliar, as if a stranger were staring back at her. But the corners of her lips twitched upward into a small, knowing smile. The darkness in her eyes gleamed faintly, a flicker of something that went deeper than anyone could see.

With a deep breath, Yui turned away from the mirror and slipped into bed. But sleep didn't come easily. In the shadows of her mind, the image of Stain loomed larger than ever.

The Alchemist's Fury

The dimly lit room flickered with the dull glow of chemical concoctions bubbling in glass tubes. The air was thick with tension as The Alchemist sat behind his desk, his gloved hands steepled in front of him, his mask reflecting the faint blue light from the experiments nearby. Null stood before him, her usually composed demeanor replaced by palpable fear.

"You had one job," The Alchemist said, his voice sharp and cold, cutting through the silence like a scalpel. "To protect Yui and Momo. To ensure they remained safe and under my observation. And yet…" He leaned forward, his voice lowering to a menacing whisper. "Weeks have gone by without a single report from Void."

Null's eyes widened, her breath hitching. "Master, I've been protecting Yui. I've been watching her every move—"

The Alchemist's hand slammed against the desk, the sound echoing through the room. Null flinched, her usual invisibility offering no shield from his wrath.

"Then tell me, who have you been protecting?" His voice was a venomous growl. "Because it's not Yui."

Null's heart raced, her mind reeling. Not Yui? That couldn't be right. She had been with Yui for weeks, monitoring her every action, ensuring her safety. "Master, I don't understand. She—"

"You don't understand because you failed," The Alchemist interrupted, his tone icy and final. "The girl you've been shadowing isn't Yui Kodai. Whoever she is, she's an imposter. And because of your incompetence, Yui's true location is unknown."

The weight of his words crushed Null, her knees threatening to give out. She stammered, "Master, I—I'll find out who she is. I'll fix this."

The Alchemist leaned back in his chair, his piercing gaze never leaving her. "You'd better. Because if you don't, you'll join the countless others who've learned what happens when they fail me." His tone softened, almost mockingly. "Now go. And make no mistake, Null—this is your last chance."

Null's Race Against Time

Null didn't waste a second. She bolted out of the lab, her heart pounding in her chest. The realization that she had been deceived was a knife twisting in her gut. She replayed every interaction with Yui in her mind, searching for any inconsistencies she might have missed.

She reached the school, her invisibility cloaking her as she weaved through the halls, desperate to find the imposter. But the trail was cold—she was too late.

The Construction Site Incident

Meanwhile, Yui—or the person wearing her face—stood at the edge of a construction site, watching as Ochako's family worked tirelessly on the skeletal frame of a building. Ochako had invited her to visit, her usual bubbly demeanor a stark contrast to Yui's eerily quiet presence.

As Ochako walked toward her, smiling brightly, a shadow of movement above caught Yui's attention. Without warning, a stack of heavy metal beams came crashing down, their descent almost poetic in its terrifying inevitability.

"Ochako!" her father screamed as the beams slammed into her, pinning her to the ground. Chaos erupted as workers rushed to help, but Yui was already there. With an unsettling calmness, she heaved the beams off Ochako, her strength unnatural, almost monstrous.

Ochako's father knelt beside his daughter, tears streaming down his face as he called for an ambulance. Yui stood back, her expression unreadable, as if the scene before her was of no consequence.

Jiro's Betrayal

Later that evening, "Yui" visited Jiro at the dorms. The two sat in Jiro's room, Jiro's earphone jacks connected to her phone as they listened to music. But as Jiro adjusted her volume, a sudden spark surged through the cord. Her phone short-circuited, sending a jolt of electricity through her jacks and into her body.

Jiro yelped, her body convulsing as the shocks paralyzed her. She collapsed onto the floor, her breathing shallow and labored.

"Yui," she gasped, her eyes wide with panic. "Help me…"

But instead of rushing to her aid, Yui crouched beside her, a sinister smile curling on her lips. She tilted her head, as if studying Jiro's suffering with fascination.

"Yui…" Jiro choked out, tears streaming down her face.

Yui reached for a pillow, her movements slow and deliberate. She pressed it down over Jiro's face, the struggle weak beneath her. Her smile widened, her voice a chilling whisper. "Loose tongues lead to short lives."

The Reveal

Before she could finish, the door burst open. Toru tackled Yui to the ground, her invisibility dropping as she shouted, "Jiro!" Momo followed close behind, her expression a mixture of shock and fury.

Yui—or the person who appeared to be Yui—grinned wickedly as her form began to melt. Her features shifted and distorted, her skin bubbling away like liquid until someone entirely different stood in her place.

"Who are you?" Momo demanded, stepping protectively in front of Jiro.

The imposter smirked, her voice dripping with mockery. "Someone you'll never catch." She vanished before their eyes, her voice echoing faintly as she disappeared. "Loose tongues lead to short lives."

The Aftermath

The air in the dormitory was heavy with tension, the kind that pressed on your chest and made it hard to breathe. Recovery Girl had arrived swiftly, her expression a mix of grim determination and concern as she worked to stabilize Jiro. Momo hovered close, her hands trembling as she gripped Jiro's hand, whispering soft reassurances that neither of them truly believed.

Toru stood in the corner of the room, her presence oddly subdued. She had always been the lighthearted one, the invisible thread that tied the group together with her carefree charm. But now, her usually buoyant energy seemed muted, her posture rigid and her gaze unfocused.

Jiro stirred, her breathing shallow but steady. She winced, her voice a hoarse whisper. "Momo...what happened? Was that…?"

"It wasn't Yui," Momo said quickly, her tone firm but edged with a nervous tremor. "It couldn't have been." She glanced toward Toru, her eyes pleading for confirmation.

Toru nodded, her voice soft but resolute. "Whoever that was… it wasn't her." She knelt beside Jiro, her invisible touch gently brushing away strands of hair from her face. "You're safe now, okay? We're here."

Jiro's eyes brimmed with tears, the memory of the attack still fresh and raw. "I thought...I thought I was going to die."

"You're not going anywhere," Momo said, squeezing her hand tightly. But even as she spoke, her mind churned with doubts. Who was the imposter? How had they gotten so close to them without anyone noticing?

Recovery Girl finished her work, sighing as she adjusted her glasses. "She'll be fine with some rest, but she's had a nasty shock—both physically and mentally. Try not to overwhelm her." She gave Jiro a kind smile, then turned to Momo and Toru, her expression sharpening. "And you two—make sure you report this immediately. Whoever did this is still out there, and they won't stop unless they're caught."

Momo nodded, her resolve hardening. "We will."

Toru hesitated, her eyes lingering on Jiro's pale face. Her hand clenched at her side, almost imperceptibly. "Yeah," she murmured. "We'll figure it out."

The Dormitory Common Room

Later that night, Momo and Toru sat together in the common room, the soft hum of the fridge the only sound breaking the silence. Most of their classmates were either asleep or too shaken by the day's events to socialize.

Momo rubbed her temples, exhaustion etched into her features. "This can't be a coincidence, Toru. First Ochako, now Jiro. Someone's targeting us."

Toru, sitting cross-legged on the couch, stared at the floor. Her fingers absentmindedly traced patterns on her jeans, her usually expressive voice subdued. "It feels...too personal, doesn't it? Like whoever it is knows us. Knows how to hurt us."

Momo looked up sharply, her eyes narrowing. "What do you mean?"

Toru shrugged, her voice light but her words careful. "I mean, how else could they get so close? Ochako trusted Yui enough to invite her to her parents' construction site. Jiro let her into her room without a second thought." She hesitated, her gaze flickering toward the faint reflection of herself in the window. "It's like they're always one step ahead of us."

Momo frowned, leaning back in her chair. "But why? What's the point of all this? What are they trying to achieve?"

Toru didn't answer right away. Instead, she stared into the middle distance, her mind racing. "Maybe it's not about what they're trying to achieve," she said finally, her tone contemplative. "Maybe it's about what they're trying to hide."

Momo's eyes widened slightly, the weight of the words sinking in. She nodded slowly. "We need to figure out who this is and what they want. Before anyone else gets hurt."

Jiro's Room

Toru returned to Jiro's room later that night, slipping in quietly to check on her. The moonlight streamed through the curtains, casting long shadows across the walls. Jiro was asleep, her face pale but peaceful.

Toru sat in the chair beside her bed, her invisible form blending seamlessly into the darkness. She watched Jiro for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Her fingers twitched slightly, as if she wanted to reach out but thought better of it.

Her gaze shifted to the faint reflection of herself in the glass of a nearby cabinet. For a split second, the outline of her true face flickered—a small smirk playing on her lips before vanishing entirely.

She exhaled softly, her voice barely audible in the still room. "We'll keep you safe. I promise."

The Weight of Secrets

As the night deepened, Toru returned to her own room, her mind a whirl of fragmented thoughts and unanswered questions. She lay on her bed, staring up at the ceiling, her hands resting over her chest.

The dormitory was quiet, but her mind wasn't. Every interaction, every detail of the day replayed in her head like a distorted film reel. The smirk that wasn't Yui's. The cold detachment in her gaze. The calculated way she had acted.

Toru's lips pressed into a thin line. She closed her eyes, willing herself to sleep. But even in the silence, one thought lingered, unshakable and sharp:

Whoever this imposter is, they've underestimated us.

The Alchemist sat in his dimly lit lab, the faint glow of chemical reactions casting ominous shadows across the walls. His mind churned like a violent storm, thoughts sharp and cutting as he pieced together the puzzle before him. Yui was missing, and the culprit was as clear to him as daylight. Sakura Kodai.

She wanted to play games, it seemed. That was fine. The Alchemist had been playing this game far longer, and he didn't lose. Ever. If Sakura wanted to keep her secrets, he would show her just how fragile her carefully constructed life was.

"Sorry, Tenko," the Alchemist murmured, his voice cold and laced with venom. "But the time for hiding is over. Mangetsu Kodai is going to learn just what kind of woman he married."

He smiled darkly to himself, a smile devoid of warmth.

A Plan Unfolds

Mangetsu Kodai, the esteemed pro hero known as Bitsize, prided himself on his ability to spot deception. As a hero and businessman, he thrived on instinct and discernment. But as he walked into his home that evening, something felt off. A faint unease tickled the back of his mind. His wife, Sakura, had been more distant than usual lately, and their daughter Yui's sudden disappearance only compounded his worries.

As he entered his office, a small, unmarked envelope lay waiting for him on his desk. Mangetsu frowned, picking it up. The paper was thick, expensive, and inside was a single photograph. His breath caught in his throat as he stared at the image.

It was a picture of Sakura, years younger, sitting at a café with a man Mangetsu didn't recognize. Their posture was too familiar, too intimate. Mangetsu's hand trembled as he flipped the photo over, where a single line was written:

"Not everything is as it seems."

The Whisper of Doubt

Over the next few days, more envelopes arrived. Each one contained fragments of a life Mangetsu hadn't known his wife had lived. Receipts from hotel stays, blurred photographs of Sakura with the same man—Hideo Shimura—and, finally, a copy of a birth certificate.

Mangetsu stared at the document, his heart pounding in his chest. The name on the certificate read Tenko Shimura, the father listed as Hideo Shimura. There was no mention of Sakura, but Mangetsu wasn't a fool. The timeline aligned too perfectly, the details matching what little he knew of her past before they'd met.

But why? Why had Sakura hidden this from him?

The Alchemist's Intervention

On the third day, Mangetsu received a phone call. The voice on the other end was calm and measured, yet it carried an edge of authority.

"Mr. Kodai," the man began. "I imagine you've been finding some... interesting items in your possession recently."

"Who is this?" Mangetsu demanded, his voice sharp.

"Let's just say I'm someone who values the truth," the Alchemist replied smoothly. "And I think it's time you learned a little more about the woman you married."

Mangetsu's grip on the phone tightened. "If this is some kind of sick game—"

"It's no game, Mr. Kodai. I have no reason to lie to you. In fact, I think you'll find what I'm about to share with you quite enlightening."

The Alchemist directed Mangetsu to an address, claiming it would provide him with the answers he sought.

Discovering the Past

Mangetsu arrived at the location, a run-down apartment complex on the outskirts of Musutafu. He found a box waiting for him in the specified unit, filled with old letters and documents. As he sifted through the contents, a grim picture began to form.

Hideo Shimura had been an abusive man, controlling and cruel. His letters to Sakura oscillated between desperate pleas for her to return and venomous accusations when she didn't. Among the documents was a contract, detailing a significant sum of money transferred to Hideo. The terms were clear: he was to keep Tenko and never contact Sakura again.

Mangetsu's hands shook as he read the letters from Tenko himself. The boy had written to his mother, begging for her to save him from his father's wrath. The tone of the letters shifted over time—from hopeful to despairing, and finally, to cold detachment.

The last letter simply read:

"I understand now. You don't want me. Don't worry—I don't want you either."

Mangetsu felt the weight of the words like a punch to the gut. His wife had not only abandoned her child but ensured he could never approach her again.

Confrontation

Mangetsu returned home, his mind a storm of emotions. He found Sakura in the living room, her expression guarded as soon as she saw him.

"We need to talk," Mangetsu said, his voice cold.

Sakura's eyes flickered with unease. "About what?"

Mangetsu slammed the box of letters onto the coffee table, his composure finally breaking. "About this! About Tenko Shimura. About the life you hid from me."

Sakura's face paled, and for a moment, she said nothing. Then, her lips tightened. "Who told you about this?"

"Does it matter?" Mangetsu shot back. "You lied to me, Sakura. You lied about everything."

"I did what I had to do," Sakura said, her voice trembling. "You don't understand—"

"Don't I?" Mangetsu interrupted, his voice rising. "You abandoned your son to a monster. You paid to keep him away. How could you do that?"

Tears welled in Sakura's eyes. "You think it was easy for me? You think I didn't suffer every day knowing what I'd done?"

Mangetsu's expression hardened. "I don't know what to think anymore. All I know is that the woman I married isn't who I thought she was."

Sakura's voice broke. "I did it for us—for this family. If Hideo had stayed in my life, he would have destroyed everything."

"And what about Tenko?" Mangetsu demanded. "What about the child who begged you for help? Did he not matter?"

Sakura looked away, unable to meet his gaze.

The Alchemist's Final Move

Later that night, Mangetsu received one final message from the Alchemist. It was a simple text:

"You've seen the truth now. The rest is up to you. But remember—secrets always have a way of coming to light."

Mangetsu stared at the message, his mind reeling. The pieces were falling into place, but the picture they formed was one he could barely comprehend. His wife's betrayal, her hidden past, and now the knowledge that someone had been pulling the strings all along.

And then there was the question that lingered in the back of his mind, unspoken but insistent:

Who was this Alchemist? And what did he want?

As he looked out the window into the dark night, Mangetsu felt a cold resolve settle over him. He would find the answers—no matter the cost.

Mangetsu Kodai sat in his home office, the room dimly lit by the warm glow of a single desk lamp. His hands trembled slightly as he ran them through his graying hair, the weight of the revelations that had unfolded in the past weeks pressing down on him like a mountain. His niece, Momo, had just left, her words echoing in his mind.

"Yui is missing. The Yui we've been living with is an imposter. And I think Aunt Sakura is behind it."

He had listened in stunned silence as Momo poured out her heart, revealing secrets he could hardly believe were true. His wife's threat to their daughter, the mysterious disappearance of Yui, and the implication that his own wife, Sakura, had orchestrated it all to keep her secrets buried. But the final blow had been Momo's admission that Hisashi Yaoyorozu had turned their beloved maid Akiko into a golden statue.

His family had been shattered, the truth revealing dark, twisted roots that extended far beyond what Mangetsu had ever imagined. He had always known the Yaoyorozu family was powerful, ruthless in their pursuits, but this?

This was evil.

A Father's Promise

Mangetsu clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. The pain was grounding, reminding him of his purpose. Whatever had happened to Yui, whatever horrors she was enduring, he would find her. He would bring her home.

"She's my daughter," he muttered to himself, his voice low but resolute. "And no one—no one—hurts my family."

For years, Mangetsu had felt like an outsider in the Yaoyorozu clan, his comparatively modest upbringing as a pro hero clashing with their immense wealth and influence. He had built his career as Bitsize, a B-ranked hero with the ability to shrink himself and others temporarily, relying on his wits and resourcefulness to succeed. But marrying into the Yaoyorozu family had exposed him to a world where power and privilege eclipsed morality.

He had tried to shield Yui from that darkness, but now it seemed he had failed.

Confronting Sakura

Mangetsu found Sakura in the living room, staring blankly at the flickering television. Her face was pale, her posture rigid. She didn't look up when he entered the room.

"Sakura," he said, his voice sharp.

She flinched slightly but didn't respond.

"Sakura!" he barked, stepping closer. "What did you do to Yui?"

Finally, she looked at him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I told her to stop," she whispered. "I warned her, Mangetsu. But she wouldn't listen."

His blood ran cold. "What do you mean, she wouldn't listen? What did you do?"

Sakura's lip quivered, and for a moment, Mangetsu thought she might confess. But then her expression hardened, a flicker of defiance in her gaze. "You don't understand. This family has secrets—secrets that need to stay buried. For her safety."

"Don't you dare twist this into something noble," Mangetsu spat. "You threatened our daughter. You replaced her with... someone else. Where is she, Sakura?"

Sakura's silence was damning.

A Night of Resolve

That night, Mangetsu paced the length of his office, his mind racing. He couldn't trust Sakura to tell him the truth, and Hisashi was out of the question. Momo's discoveries about her father were enough to make Mangetsu sick.

If he wanted answers, he would have to find them himself.

He sat at his desk, pulling up every contact he had built over his career as a hero. His allies, informants, even the occasional underground connection. Someone had to know something.

A knock at the door startled him. He turned to see Yui's childhood photo on the shelf, her bright smile tugging at his heart. "Don't worry, Yui," he murmured. "I'll bring you home."