AN: Merry Christmas one and all!

Either way, I hope you enjoy the chapter and have a good Christmas one and all!

Disclaimer: I do not own My Hero Academia or Tokyo Ghoul.

( - )

(Last Time)

"As expected of a U.A. student," The medic chuckled, shaking his head. "Well, you did the right thing. It looks far worse than it is, but luckily for him, he had a Healing Quirk, and so should be fine."

Nejire beamed in response, even as Mari nodded and glanced off to the side.

"As for you sir, like I said you should go to the hospital to make sure, but from what my Quirk told me, you should be fine, or at least physically. Do you have a name I can stick in my report, by the way?" The medic continued, still smiling. "Sorry, it's a bureaucracy thing, you know how it is."

"Yes," He nodded, still struggling to come to terms with the bizarreness of his current situation. "It's Haise, Haise Sasaki."

( - )

Chapter 2

( - )

Doctor Nakamura scowled as he continued to leaf through his most recent patient's test results.

His patient was a nineteen-year-old male, of average height and build, a bit on the light side weight-wise, but was otherwise a perfectly normal person. The kind of person you would pass on the street without a second glance.

Or at least he would normally by, if one didn't take into account his only remarkable features, which included his unusually coloured right eye – it had a pitch black sclera, a burning crimson iris, and dark red, almost black veins which spread out from his eye marring his pale skin – and short, slightly messy, pure white hair.

Either way, the patient had been dropped off in the waiting room only a few hours ago by the police after receiving a head injury in a mugging.

They'd apparently taken his name and a short statement at the scene when he proved to be lucid enough to talk and had then dropped him off at the hospital for some routine scans at the advice of the attending paramedic.

According to the police, he had been vomiting blood when he was found and had no idea where he was when he was first found, which when taken together suggested possible head trauma and/or internal damage.

Either way, he had needed a routine MRI scan and an X-ray once a bed had been found for him, and he'd been assigned to him as his doctor. All of which was standard procedure for anyone that had suffered a head injury. After all, MRI scans and X-rays didn't take long to do and were very cheap compared to what they were during his youth. They had been going through somewhat of a technological renaissance over the last few decades.

Unfortunately, the results of his scans had brought up a number of anomalies which necessitated more tests and extended his patient's stay.

For one, his whole body X-ray had identified that there was no additional joint in his foot, which to a layperson might seem insignificant, but to a doctor, it was the opposite. That extra joint in a foot was a prime identifier for those who either had Quirks, or the genetic potential to awaken one.

It was not an exact science, of course, and anomalies did occur. But as many highly popular and lauded medical journals set out, 99.9% of Quirk users had an extra joint in their foot. While all Quirkless individuals lacked this joint. As far as records went, there were only a handful of Quirk users over the years that hadn't had this extra joint.

Though the reason behind those anomalies, he knew, was due to an external Quirk-related factor.

Essentially, their Quirk, or in some cases Quirks, had been granted to them by another Quirk user.

Not that the truth behind this matter was made publically known.

No, that information was carefully contained to a chosen few, and he only knew himself, as he had been an examining doctor on one of the cases some fifteen years ago.

Still, considering the patient's rapid cellular regeneration – it was hard not to notice his healing factor –, he had been expecting to find the extra joint in his foot.

That he hadn't, was concerning

In fact, there was a distinct possibility that he would need to report this patient to a certain government agency he'd had contact with in the past.

He didn't want to, but he had a duty to do so. After all, his patient's condition could be an indicator that a highly dangerous villain was still alive, and some might suggest he had a moral responsibility to pass that information on to the authorities, so they could act.

Still, it left him in a difficult situation.

He was now torn between his duty to his patient and the confidentiality he owed him, and his responsibility to wider society, and to a lesser extent the government and hero associations that maintained order within that society.

This was why he had decided to order further tests, despite his patient's healing factor having returned him to full health.

He had to be certain before he did anything. As such, he'd ordered an entire battery of tests; including blood tests, a genetic sequencing test, a genealogical test, and a comparison of his patient's DNA and biometric data – they may or may not have illegally acquired his fingerprints – against the Country's domestic Quirk register and citizen database.

His patient was Japanese and as such should have registered his DNA and biometrics on the nationwide database, alongside whatever Quirk he might possess. If he had done, then the information provided could then be used to check his Quirk status and to track his genealogy to see what his parent's Quirks were so he could see if they too had healing-related Quirks.

But unfortunately, the results from his checks had only raised more questions.

As far as the national database was concerned, Haise Sasaki didn't exist.

There was no record of either his name or his DNA or biometrics on file.

He had no family, nor was there any record of his birth, his education, or even a parking ticket or a vaccination record.

Which meant that he was either a foreigner or one who happened to look Japanese and speak it fluently with a distinct Tokyo-raised dialect.

Which, if it were the case, would mean he was in the country illegally as he had not registered his DNA or biometrics on the visitor/tourist database.

Or, he had been born off the grid and had just never registered, which again, was a crime that would see him either landed with a hefty fine, or a weighty prison sentence.

That, or perhaps more worryingly, he had deliberately scrubbed any trace of his existence off of the database.

In reality, he didn't know which option was most likely.

Nor was he sure what to make of the results from the rest of his tests.

A closer look at his genetic test results showed none of the key identifiers that had come to be associated with Quirks. Instead, his DNA had brought back only errors. It was like it had been scrambled, or constantly mutating.

Similarly, his blood tests came back with errors, showing that he had unknown cells in his bloodstream which did not compare with anything they had on record. Without further and more extensive investigation and experimentation, he couldn't even begin to guess what function those alien cells were serving.

It was all very strange and worrying.

Furthermore, an MRI and several X-rays had revealed that his muscles were unusually dense, more akin to the muscles one might expect in someone with a strength-based mutation Quirk.

His skin also had alien cells within it, similar to the cells that were swimming through his bloodstream.

Whatever the cells were, they had granted his skin a high level of durability, so much so that when combined with his dense muscles they had had to use the needles and scrapers that they had been specifically developed for use on the more sturdy and hardier of Quirk users to extract blood and skins samples.

Additionally, he also had an extra organ of some sort near the small of his back, which seemed to be pumping out the alien cells that suffused his bloodstream and skin.

Normally he might have expected those kinds of results from someone with a Mutation Quirk. His body was enhanced far beyond that of a normal person, and that was taking into account that at this point in human evolution, a good proportion of the world populace had stronger bodies than those that came before them due to the interbreeding of the many different Quirks.

One thing that made him pause about his theories over his patient having a mutation Quirk, however, was the fact that his bones were no stronger or harder than a normal human's. Which was strange, as one would usually expect some degree of proportionality to protect him from shattering or damaging his skeleton with his enhanced strength. That would be the case with most Quirk users, very rarely did a person develop a Quirk which actively caused them harm. It was almost like his body was unsuited to the Quirk he had…

Which unfortunately lent credence to his growing belief that his patient had more than one Quirk.

Perhaps a Regenerative Quirk and a Hardening Skin Quirk, with the enhanced strength being a side-effect from overuse of his regeneration – it could have been built up over time.

It was like someone had chosen certain Quirks in the hopes of creating a powerful weapon, but had not fully thought through exactly how the Quirks would interact or had not been able to find a way to strengthen his bones too.

It would explain his heightened physiology, and also the fragility of his bones in comparison.

Then again, any damage he might do to his bones would be healed by his absurd level of regeneration.

He honestly wasn't sure.

Then again, it was all academic in the end.

For the moment, he was more concerned with his patient having no records at all.

He had no passport, identification, no medical record or birth certificate, and there was no trace of him online, or none that he could find anyway.

In a high-tech age where everyone had an online presence from birth, he was a ghost.

It was bizarre.

As too were his test results.

He had a Quirk and yet had none of the genetic or physical markers that one might expect from someone with a Quirk.

Nothing about his patient made sense, and the more he dug, the more questions he found.

Which left him in a moral quandary as to what to do next…

Should he inform the authorities that an undocumented citizen that seemingly had one or more Quirks – despite the usual tests saying that he shouldn't – was currently in his hospital?

Or should he fudge the paperwork, ignore the irregularities, and discharge his physically fit patient, so he could go on to do who knows what?

Running a hand through his thinning grey hair, he let out a sigh.

He knew what he had to do, unpalatable though it might be.

"Nurse, keep an eye on the patient. I need to go make a call." He sighed, his brow furrowing as he stopped leafing through the test results and instead looked over at a waiting nurse.

"Yes doctor," The nurse replied, with a nod of her head.

Sending her a weak smile, he headed for the door.

He could only hope things didn't get messy, and that this Haise Sasaki remained placid.

( - )

(With Haise)

Looking around the stark white room, he ignored the sharp scent of ammonia in the air. To his sharpened sense it was almost hellish, everything was sterile and reeked of cleaning products. Beneath that smell, however, he could still pick up the distinct, tangy, coppery, succulent scent of blood, death and disease.

From what he could tell, they were only one floor up from the morgue.

The noise, however, was worse than the smell. He could hear the constant rumble of a nearby voice, the never-ending beeping of dozens of machines and the monotonous beat of hundreds of footsteps. The hospital was a hive of activity.

Hundreds of humans were on the move, hundreds of tasty morsels just waiting to be plucked and eaten.

His stomach rumbled at the thought, prompting him to ball his hands into fists as he pushed his rising hunger down.

He couldn't remember the last time he had eaten.

Normally he would only need to feed two or three times a month.

At a push, a good meal could last him a couple of weeks.

But he'd been on the run for over a while now and had been involved in several fights during that time, all of which had drained his energy reserves.

His regenerative abilities were highly useful, but they burned through his energy reserves, and during times of prolonged use, massively increased his metabolism.

The more he used it, the more he needed to eat to regain his lost strength.

He could hold on a while longer.

However, he would need to eat, and the sooner he ate, the better unless he wanted to suffer from the starvation-induced psychosis that affected both Ghouls and Half Ghouls both.

His stomach rumbled at that thought.

"Are you hungry? Do you want me to bring you something?" A nurse nearby asked politely.

The woman had been in his room for a little while now, continuously checking his charts and the nearby machinery, but otherwise not doing much else. With her occasionally asking him a question, or offering to get a drink or food brought up for him.

She was deliberately loitering, and he was canny enough to know that she was doing it to keep an eye on him.

Though just why she would be doing that, he didn't know.

"I'm fine," He replied curtly, pushing himself off his bed.

He'd been in the hospital for hours now.

The police had arrived not long after the paramedic had, and after waving off the two school girls that had found and helped him, Nejire and Mari, they had then gone on to question him about what happened.

In the end, he had given them a cock and bull story about being mugged by a gang, including a white-haired man with a sword and glasses.

But he had said no more than that.

Instead, he'd been preoccupied at the time with trying to work out why one of the officers looked like an anthropomorphic porcupine. Then again, he had thought the same about the ursine paramedic that had first attended him too.

Wherever he was, it was not the city he knew.

The city was too clean, the air too fresh and the buildings and vehicles all looked different, more futuristic. It was Tokyo, but a shiner, more sanitised version of the city he knew, one suffused with hope and frivolity, as opposed to darkness and an undercurrent of fear like the one he remembered.

Considering the changes to the city along with the high number of people he had seen with physical abnormalities or who appeared to have superpowers, he had come to a strange but fitting conclusion that he was either having a very lucid dream or that this was an odd afterlife. That or it was possible that he had been transported to another world – like an MC from one of those many bad Isekai anime.

The more he had seen, the more he came to the conclusion that it was likely the latter.

Licking his lips, he looked around his hospital room.

It had been hours since he had been brought in for some routine tests, and yet he was still here.

What had initially started out as just a simple MRI checking for brain damage or something, had then become a blood test – they somehow had procured needles that could pierce his skin –, and then they had taken skin samples, pictures of his eyes, and even a urine sample...

He had borne with it originally, after all, he didn't think they meant any harm at the time and they were just running standard tests. That and he had still been coming to terms with his situation at the time, and so had not given anything around him much thought at the time. Besides, he was used to such treatment by the doctors that had monitored himself and the rest of the Quinx Squad.

They were just doing their jobs, and he didn't want to draw too much attention by refusing or acting out.

But as time wore on and they continued their tests his patience started to fray.

He liked to think he was a patient person by nature, but even he had his limits.

Add to that, the fact he had a nurse keeping an eye on him, and he was officially suspicious.

"In fact," He continued, pushing himself to his feet. He'd been given some fresh clothes by the hospital. Nothing fancy, just a plain blue shirt, some grey joggers and some cheap black plimsolls. "I think it's about time I go. I've been here long enough. I think I'm ready to discharge myself."

The nurse jumped in surprise at his words, her eyes widening and flicking side to side uncertainly, as she hastened to block his path to the door. "I'm sorry, but the results of your tests haven't come in yet, so you can't go. Doctor Nakamura thinks you might be suffering from head trauma, so I think it'll probably be best if you just sit back down and relax. I'm happy to bring you some food or drink while you wait."

He paused at her words, his eyes narrowing minutely.

She was trying to keep him confined.

Trapped.

Imprisoned.

He had spent enough time working for the CCG to recognise what she was up to.

For some reason, the nurse had been given standing orders to keep him here while his attending doctor did who knows what. He had seen the doctor watching him through the window before, even as he leafed through what he assumed were his test results. He'd seen the older man grimace too, before a sudden look of determination filled his gaze.

Flexing his hands, he unconsciously rested his thumb against his middle finger. A part of him desperately wanted to give in to the urge to crack his finger.

"Okay," He said after a moment, forcing a soft smile onto his face. "If you could get me some water and a bit of food, that would be good, thanks."

Bobbing her head quickly, the nurse sent him a weak smile, even as she turned and went to do just that. Or rather, he suspected she went out to ask someone else to do it, so she could quickly return to the room and continue to keep an eye on him.

In fact, he could see her standing in front of the door blocking it, even as she spoke quietly to someone just out of his sight. He could hear the murmur of their voices and a few scraps of what they were saying. But it was muffled by the ambient noise from the rest of the hospital.

Firming his resolve, he made his move as he tore his gaze from the door and headed straight for the small window.

There was a latch on it that could be opened to let fresh air in.

Looking down, he could see he was on the fourth floor.

Which meant there was probably a thirty-foot drop to the ground below.

It was doable.

Chancing a glance back at the door, he once again spied the back of the nurse's head.

Grimacing, he quietly opened the window, ignoring the rush of cold air and the noise of the city as he instead nimbly slid himself through the foot-wide gap. He could physically force it, but that would draw too much attention.

Slowly pulling himself free, he clamped down on his instinctual fear of falling, and let himself drop to the ground.

The air rushed by him for all of a few seconds as he twisted through the air, before with a light thud he landed, one leg was bent beneath him absorbing the force from his fall, and the other was extended to the side helping to balance him. His left hand meanwhile hit the asphalt car park absorbing more force, even as his arm whipped out to the side and slightly behind him, once again helping him to retain his balance.

A perfect three-point landing.

Holding back a small surge of satisfaction, he took a moment to glance up at the open window to his room, before, without a second thought, he burst into motion, quickly eating up the metres as he sprinted across the car park and leapt fully over the six-foot fence that boarded the hospital ground and made it to the pavement on the other side.

He was free.

Smiling to himself, he sent the hospital one last look, his lips twisting to turn his smile into a slight smirk.

Now it was time to make sense of this new place, this new world he had ended up in.

Previously, he had thought his life was over.

When he had seen Arima's blade coming, he had thought he had made peace with that fact.

Now that he was here and alive, he didn't feel like he wanted to die any more.

He had another chance.

A chance to live free.

A chance not to be hunted.

A chance to actually be happy.

Clinging onto that thought, he once again started running.

But first, he would need to find something to eat.

( - )

AN: Thanks for reading, and hopefully you enjoyed it and continue to do so. If not then please tell what you didn't like, or what you thought could have been done better? Please leave a review, comment etc. If you have any questions or suggestions feel free to PM me.

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Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a very merry Christmas!

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