Chapter Text
Rudo felt a hand grab him from the scruff of his neck. An overwhelming sense of dread began to hit his eyes.
…
He had decided to grab an extra serving of sweets.
The team had gone out to eat for his birthday, something that only happened because Rudo had casually mentioned it earlier in the day with absolutely no warning.
“I wonder what you guys have planned for me for my birthday!”
The panic that crossed Enjin's face had been immediate.
What followed was a frantic scramble to throw together some sort of celebration before Rudo noticed nobody had actually known it was his birthday. Money that was supposed to be feeding Enjin's increasingly concerning gambling addiction had instead gone toward a kid-friendly restaurant packed with loud colors, arcade machines, and enough sugar to put half the city into a coma. Somehow Enjin had even managed to convince Semiu to put the whole thing on HQ's dime, a feat that probably deserved a reward by itself.
The adults occupied their own table, enjoying the rare opportunity to sit down and relax without somebody trying to kill them. Conversations happened lazily between them while food disappeared from plates. Meanwhile everyone nineteen and younger had been shoved together at a separate table. Much to Follos' annoyance. The older teen looked seconds away from filing a formal complaint every time somebody referred to it as the "kids table."
Still, everyone was having fun.
Rudo had finished his meal before nearly everyone else, inhaling his food with alarming quickness before immediately setting his sights on dessert. Zanka had watched the growing pile of empty plates beside him with increasing concern.
“Slow down. You're going to get a stomach ache.”
“Fine! But just one more plate!”
Without waiting for permission, Rudo had already hopped out of his seat and darted toward the sweets section before Zanka could continue arguing. The display was packed with cakes, pastries, candies, puddings, and every other sugary creation imaginable. Rudo practically vibrated with excitement as he grabbed a plate and began deciding what he wanted first!
There were just too many to choose from! He couldn't even try to make up his mind!?
Then he felt it.
A cold, callused hand touched the side of his neck.
His entire body locked up.
The reaction he had was rather immediate. Instinctive, even.
The fingers pressed against a pressure point of the sides of his neck. and suddenly every muscle in his body refused to cooperate. His breathing had been caught in his throat. His hands froze. The plate slipped from his fingers before crashing against the floor.
His body only let out a little squeak in return.
Rudo couldn't move, nor speak. Not even simply turn his head.
That horrible feeling flooded through him all at once. The same suffocating dread he had spent years trying to forget. His stomach dropped so violently it hurt. His pulse hammered against his ribs. Every alarm in his head was screaming at him to run.
But he couldn't.
He could only stare ahead while his peripheral vision desperately searched for whoever had grabbed him.
Then he heard the voice.
"Well, well, well... What've we got here? A little man wanderin' around all by himself? That's dangerous, y'know. Good thing I found ya first. C'mon now. you're comin' with me.”
His blood turned to ice.
Wait—
He knew that voice.
He would recognize it anywhere.
Slowly, through the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a black hoodie. The hood was pulled low, hiding the man's face from anyone who happened to glance over. To everyone else he probably looked harmless. A stranger standing near a kid at a restaurant.
To Rudo, he looked like a nightmare clawing its way out of the past.
Jabbers grip tightened slightly.
Rudo couldn't scream. He couldn't even force his mouth open.
All he could do was stand there frozen as the shattered remains of his plate scattered across the floor and the man began pulling him away.
…
Zanka had been worried that Rudo hadn’t come back. Knowing him, he would’ve returned the second he finished eating just to go back for more. A couple of minutes had passed, and that small detail alone was enough to make something sink uncomfortably in Zanka’s chest.
He pushed back from the table.
“Pardon me.”
Follo gave him a strange look across the table, questioning in a way that made Zanka hesitate. He couldn’t say the truth. Not without setting off the entire group. So instead, he coughed out the first excuse that came to mind, the words tasting wrong as soon as he said them.
“I need to handle something in the bathroom.”
Silence hit for half a second.
Then the table of kids erupted in disgust.
Follo, however, stood immediately.
“I’ll join.”
Zanka clicked his tongue.
“Alone.”
Follo frowned, clearly not liking it, but Zanka was already turning away before it could turn into a conversation. He moved fast, pushing through the noise of the restaurant, eyes scanning the direction he knew Rudo had gone. The dessert line.
Something was wrong.
He could feel it before he even saw it.
And when he finally got there, he stopped dead.
Rudo was there.
But not alone.
“Jabber…”
Zanka’s voice dropped the second he saw him. Recognition hit instantly. It wasn’t even from the hair peeking from under the hood.
Jabber lifted his head slightly, his hood sliding back just enough to reveal his face properly now, grin already spreading, he’d been waiting for this exact moment.
“Zan-zannnnn!” he chirped, voice far too cheerful for the situation. “Look what I brought you~!”
His hand tightened on Rudo’s face, squeezing his cheeks in a way that made Rudo jolt despite himself. Claws pressed against him to warn him not to move.
“Ohhhhhh,” Jabber went on, tilting his head as if genuinely considering something. “Can we keep him? I’ll be soooo good to him… I’ll make sure he’s a good boy, promise~”
Zanka’s expression twisted instantly.
“You're actually fucking disgusting!”
He moved without thinking, lunging forward to rip Rudo out of Jabber’s grip.
He didn’t even get close.
Jabber shifted.
One second Zanka was reaching, the next he was slammed sideways into the wall with enough force to rattle the structure behind him. Pain flared sharp through his shoulder and back as he slid down slightly, breath hitching.
Above him, Jabber gave a lazy wave.
“Heeey now… I was being friendly. You really do mess up everything, don’t you, Zankaaaa!”
Zanka pushed himself up, teeth grit, eyes locked on him.
Jabber sighed dramatically, as if disappointed of the youngers performance.
“Oh well… hope I catch you again soon. I’ll make sure I get a better grip next time~”
A distortion tore open in the air behind him.
Zanka saw it immediately.
That damn portal!
“No!”
He lunged forward again, this time grabbing at Jabber with everything he had, refusing to let him slip away.
…
Okay… Follo was nosy.
He didn’t have a thing for going to the bathroom with other people. Not at all. Definitely not something he cared about!! But suddenly.. out of nowhere… he really, really needed to go. Not because Zanka had gone off alone.. Absolutely not!
It was an absolute utter emergency!
Simple. Normal. A completely unimportant emergency!
He pushed back from the table too fast, chair scraping a little against the floor.
“I’ll be right back.”
Nobody questioned it, or even really looked up. After all, the kids were still arguing at their table. Follo moved quickly through it, heading toward the bathroom, which conveniently sat near the dessert line.
Bad placement.
Terrible placement, actually.
Because the second he turned the corner—
He saw Zanka. And then he saw everything else. Follo stopped so hard it was like he’d hit an invisible wall. His brain took half a second to process it.
One.
Two.
Then—
“WHAT THE FUC—!”
The shout ripped through the restaurant. It was loud enough that conversations died instantly.
And just like that, whatever fragile normalcy the birthday dinner had been holding together shattered completely.
Zanka didn’t even glance back.
Jabber did.
Slowly.
With a grin that only made everything worse.
“Ohhh,” he hummed, almost amused. “Looks like we’ve got an audience now~”
…
Most of it had gone in a blur.
Follo had ended up clinging to Zanka, who was still trying to rip Rudo out of Jabber’s grip while Jabber, in turn, was actively trying to drag all of them through the portal at once. It wasn’t clean. Neither was coordinated at all… It was chaos stacked on top of chaos, everyone grabbing, pulling, yelling over each other as the space behind Jabber distorted wider and wider.
Soon enough, it stopped being a fight and started being a chain.
Everyone there from the HQ, Remlin, and whoever else had managed to lunge in time ended up latched onto each other in a messy line of hands, all of them refusing to let go. One by one, the pull of the portal won out, dragging them forward until the entire group finally gave in at once.
And then—
They were gone.
The portal snapped shut right after the last of them passed through, leaving nothing behind.
The waiter slowly lowered herself to her knees.
Sniffling.
“I’m going to get fired for this one…”
…
Jabber hit the ground first.
Zanka landed right after him.
The sensation of falling had been so… so disorienting, that Zanka’s grip tightened instinctively on the only thing he still had hold of, half convinced he was going to lose everything if he let go. When it finally stopped, his body slammed into something soft instead of hard.
A bed.
He blinked.
Then immediately scrambled back, realizing exactly where he was and exactly how he was positioned.
Heat rushed up his neck.
“Oho~?” Jabber’s voice came immediately, far too close, and extremely amused. He rolled slightly where he had landed, looking completely unbothered by the situation. “Look at you, Zanka Nijiku… bold today, aren’t we? Trying to sweep me off my feet already?? I don’t hate it… but c’mon, dinner first. I’ve got standards~”
Zanka’s expression twisted so fast it almost hurt.
He raised his fist.
He was one second away from ending the entire conversation right there.
Then—
A door clicked open.
“Shinsou-kun inviting me into his bedroom? How brazen—”
The voice cut off.
Monoma stood in the doorway.
He took in the scene.
Two strangers on Shinsou’s bed.
His eyebrow twitched. Then his entire face went red.
“Excuse me—!? Who are you all supposed to be!? Hitoshi-kun, if this is your idea of ‘trying something new,’ then at least have the decency to consult me first!”
Behind him, Shinsou looked equally stunned, eyes narrowing immediately.
“This was not me.”
“AUGH!? Don’t tell me U.A. is under attack!? Of course it is…Once I finally arrive—”
Zanka threw both hands up, voice cracking through the chaos.
“No! No! It’s all wrong!”
…
.
.
.
Zanka and Jabber were tied up together with a strip of cloth, bound in a way that was tight enough to be uncomfortable but not tight enough to be outright cruel. It still didn’t make the situation any better. Zanka sat with his shoulders stiff, jaw clenched so hard it looked like it hurt, while Jabber beside him had been forced into silence after he had taped his mouth shut mid-laugh.
The only reason that had happened was because he genuinely couldn’t stop.
Even now his shoulders shook slightly, silent laughter threatening to break through anyway.
Zanka lowered his head.
“I fucking hate you.”
The words came out flat. Zanka was sick of this bullshit, completely drained of whatever patience he usually pretended to have.
…
Somewhere along the way they had met a talking mouse.
A talking mouse.
Zanka still wasn’t sure which part of that sentence bothered him more.
Jabber had nearly lost it the second it happened. He would’ve, if the tape hadn’t been there, and even now he was visibly shaking, eyes squeezed shut as if holding back the worst kind of laughter imaginable. Zanka, on the other hand, just stared at it. Stared at the mouse. Stared at the room. Stared at his own life choices.
Was this a hallucination.
Had Jabber drugged him??
Was this some kind of delayed reaction from that?
His head felt clear. Too clear. No dizziness. No fog. No real sign that anything was altered, which somehow made it worse instead of better. He couldn't understand.
The talking mouse kept asking him questions.
Zanka didn’t answer a single one.
He was too busy trying to figure out if this was really reality.
Then the door opened.
Zanka looked up and saw him again.
The purple-haired man from before.
And beside him, a taller man with long dark hair who didn’t look impressed by anything in the room.
Shinsou stepped forward first, hands in his pockets, expression calm. He looked down at Zanka.
“My name is Shinsou.”
A pause.
“And yours?”
For a second, Zanka actually considered answering.
Not because he trusted him.
Because this was the first thing in this entire situation that felt remotely normal.
His lips twitched.
“As if I would give it to yo—”
He stopped mid-sentence.
His body jerked slightly.
Then went still.
His posture stiffened. His eyes widened for half a second before the expression went unfocused. His pupils dulled, the ego draining out of his gaze as his mind started to feel… far away. His eyes turned milky white.
Fog creeping in where there hadn’t been any before.
Jabber tilted his head, still taped up.
“…You alright, dude?”
Shinsou’s gaze didn’t move.
“What is your purpose here in U.A.?”
Zanka’s mouth opened.
Nothing came out at first.
Then, slowly, against his will—
“What is that?”
Silence dropped instantly.