Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

'We were supposed to live a quiet life here.'

("We're going back. We just have to wait until they find us," his friend lulled with a gentle voice. Azure flames reached out—

—And amber flames snapped back. "If," he corrected sternly, and his gaze was lost at sea."If they find us." 

"They will. They will, Tsuna." A placid hand slid up to his neck, fingers, kind in all their glory yet calloused from the years on the field, curling around his nape with a ghostly touch. The tears that fell from the Sky were returned to it once more. A calming wave followed.

And when he looked up, his friend with their painful smile, one that never reached the eyes, only made the hole in his heart a little bigger.)

Then again, was reality ever that simple? Because when criminals—they called them villains here—tore past buildings and homes, of dreaming children and far-distant futures meant to be lived, Tsuna only wished it was.

But it was going to be okay. Because even if the sky was falling, that hushing kiss of rain flames against his own sky washed the cinnamon hue away from his eyes in exchange for another pair of glowing eyes—ones that flared of campfires and bleeding sunsets and fireflies.

He knew no other option.

(Fourteen-year olds should not be fighting wars.

Fourteen-year olds should not be fighting for their lives.

Fourteen-year olds should not be fighting against the world.)

So he burned.

(Guess who's fighting anyway.)

"Why are so hooked onto these two anyway?"

"Is it such a surprise for me to have a fascination in the potentially new generation of heroes?"

"Of course. Never, have you shown such an interest in someone—in two individuals no less, strong enough to offer recommendations to? What's so special about their quirks that makes them so—"

"But that's just it." the principal looked up from his desk, his pen stilling.

At the blurred glint in his eyes, the teacher found their own widening. “What’s,” they asked slowly, as if debating whether they wanted to know, “just it?”

There was a blank expression of Nedzu’s face, a mask in charge of concealing the darkness of the day. And even as the room closed in, he smiled, teeth and all. "It's not about their quirks."

The first time Tsuna woke up from travelling beyond space-and-time, he was in a coffin. The second time, however, he woke up falling from the sky.

Not a pleasant experience, as you could imagine.

Sometimes, he wondered how his Rain could be so laid-back. Of course, there wasn't anything wrong with that. It was comforting, knowing that despite being thrown into a world of the unknown, someone was right at his side. Yet, he could tell that Takeshi was just as restless as he was. He didn't need his intuition; it was almost obvious as day. It was the way his Rain's eyes sharpened at anyone new, how his Rain stood, ready to unsheathe his sword at any moment, or how his Rain shifted in front of him a little bit at every potential threat like he was afraid to lose sight of the Sky once again.

("You don't have to smile if you don't feel like it."

"Now, now, Tsuna. Using your intuition is cheating."

It wasn't really, but, it's not like he could turn it off.)

His ring caught the light. "I miss my mom."

Fingers ran through his hair, and the Sky breathed just a little steadier. "I miss my dad," his companion murmured, drowsiness laced into their voice.

Opening his eyes to bloodied clouds, Tsuna shifted his head from Takeshi's stomach just to look at the sinking sun. Tsuna yawned. "How long have I been asleep?" he asked as he tasered his friend in the side.

The latter jerked abruptly with a laugh. "I wasn’t counting; I’m not like Hayato. But maybe an hour or two?”

Tsuna squeaked in surprise as he snapped up, propping his arms behind him. "Really!?" he exclaimed. He hadn't meant to nap that long, least of all on his friend’s stomach. "Sorry, Takeshi," Tsuna shot his friend an apologetic glance as he scratched the back of his head, "You must've been bored."

Takeshi grinned as he stood up, sticking out a hand. "Don't worry about it. I took a nap too; your jacket is a great pillow by the way."

"Um… thanks?" Tsuna took Takeshi's offered hand and was dragged up to his feet. He would've tripped on his own feet if his friend didn't lead him away from that road. Flushing, he whispered a thanks.

"We've got to talk about it, y’know."

Glancing up at his Rain with confusion that shifted into understanding within a moment, Tsuna pursed his lips before hiding his eyes behind his stray locks. "We don't. Not really."

"We do, Tsuna," Takeshi began, and there was something between the lines. "He expects our answer tomorrow." At the change of tone, the atmosphere gained heaviness as the thrum of a breeze passed through. But the dark-haired boy smiled softly with a hint of mischief and the air itself breathed. "We could always ditch, though. Just say the word."

Biting the inside of his cheek, Tsuna averted his gaze. "That'd be rude."

Takeshi leaned down, a glint of amusement and excitement sparking like a flame in his golden eyes. "Well, well, I'll do it if you do."

"What are your thoughts? Would you… would you take the recommendation?"

Blinking at the question before giving it a considering expression, Takeshi grinned brightly. "It sounds like fun."

And then what once and always was No Good Tsuna vanished, replaced by a shell of what had been. Looking up at the Rain, a pair of unfocused eyes stared, scalding embers and sunset-bleeding colors. "But is it something you want to do?" The inferno on his head flickered in-and-out of existence.

Although taken back at the change of pace, the Rain laughed, warm and comforting. Takeshi slapped his friend on the back repeatedly, knocking his Sky back to normal as he hummed, "I don’t care how we do it, but if we're going to be here for a while"—Tsuna's stomach swirled of heat—"Might as well save as many lives as possible, right?"

And Tsuna, whose eyes glared for the fear of tomorrow and whose fingers trembled at the thought of the unknown, was going to be okay. (Not now, but maybe tomorrow, or until they could go back.)

His intuition ticked, and the gears started turning.

“You two, again, huh?” the officer said, sighing. As if he hadn’t had enough with all the robberies and destruction going on. Really, why couldn’t the heroes show up a bit earlier?

The two teenagers, who were really just kids without a lick of common sense, straightened at their address, dirt slapped across their faces and clothes, scabs hidden behind their sleeves.

The brunet sputtered nervously, waving his hands frantically in front of him, “We’re really sorry officer! But we couldn’t help it! We didn’t engage in combat; we swear!”

“I know you didn’t.” With a twitching lip, the officer fought down a smug smirk. “It was self-defense, therefore, you’ll only get off with a warning, again.” The two teenagers chuckled anxiously, exchanging some knowing looks that he really didn’t want to know meant. “What is this, the twelfth time? At least try to stop getting into trouble.”

A grin from the black-haired boy, an almost watchful glare flickering in his gold eyes. “This shorty here is a danger magnet. Aren’t you, Tsuna?” He slung an arm over the latter’s shoulders.

The officer just stared, ignoring (or trying to ignore) that warm flicker stirring in his chest. “I hope you’ll take care of him then.” He wrote something down. “I’m sad—but not regretful—to say that my co-workers have a betting pool on how often you’ll be on the local news this month.”

While the brunet shrunk on himself, the black-haired boy only smiled bigger.

The policeman massaged his temples. Kids—what could you do?

But they were a good pair of kids. If the officer had only heard about them in passing, the two teenagers would be clarified as vigilantes in his mind. Who gets into that much trouble without seeking it? But it’s not like he isn’t somewhat grateful. Those robberies or villain attacks of the past month, wouldn’t have gotten away with such a small amount of casualties if the famous—more like infamous—dynamic duo wasn’t there (and thank god they didn’t fight anyone; that’s the hero’s job.)

Why they weren’t heroes-in-training, he didn’t know. With quirks resembling the Todoroki family, god knows why they didn’t receive any recommendations from any hero schools—or maybe they did but just kept it a secret.

But why would they? They spend their time in the destruction helping people. By becoming a hero and getting a license, they would have free reign of how and when to help someone. Once, he saw both of them, scotching and wincing burns along their skin (weren’t their quirks fire?), carrying out children on their backs from a burning building, with a glow—or was it a reflection—flaring in their eyes.

He liked them. Like, genuinely liked them, which was weird because he’s only talked to them a few times, exchanged words and warnings till they bid farewell and met at the next small disaster.

Maybe, it’s the way they could’ve fought the villains, but chose not to. They could’ve made the chaos worse, could’ve stirred it up to the high clouds, yet they didn’t. The big picture for hero rescues was how they saved the day. The small picture for hero rescues was the fatalities.

They cared about the small picture, no matter how small.

If Sawada Tsunayoshi and Yamamoto Takeshi became vigilantes (because no matter how many times he tried, he couldn’t imagine them in hero costumes, smiling and spouting some fake crap), he didn’t think he’d be able to arrest them.

He wouldn’t.

Not when he knew who they were.

“How long until?”

“Umm…” Click, the gears went. “Right about… now.”

An explosion rattled through the grocery store, screams of help plaguing the very air.

“Your hyper intuition really is cheating.”

And as the fire ignited on his head, Tsuna snapped halfheartedly, “You suggested we use it!”

All Might laughed as he gave the tied-up villain to the police force for interrogation. He dusted off his hands, faint pink scars lining his palms and fingers.

A mother and a little boy scurried up to him. Bowing slightly as a sign of gratitude and respect, the mother blurted out, “T-thank you so much All Might-san!”

He replied with a slip of relief, “I’m just glad no one was hurt!” And there wasn’t. Not a single casualty he’s seen so far, which was an absolute miracle, even in this day and age.

“That’s because of the guardians!” the boy added in. “They’re the best!”

His mother nudged her child as she whispered, “What about All Might, honey?”

“No way! The Guardians are my favorites!” 

All Might echoed, trying to keep the confusion out of his voice, “The Guardians?” He hadn’t heard of a hero duo by that name.

The mother shushed her child, and picked up All Might’s confusion. Sheepishly, she smiled as she tugged the boy into her side. “I’m sorry, All Might-san. It would be very unlikely for you to have heard of them. The Guardians aren’t real heroes.” Her son gasped in indignance as she continued, “They’re just two local teenagers that can’t do anything but help out in disasters. If you ask around, they’re actually quite infamous around here.”

Vigilantes?

Seeing the question in the hero’s eyes, the mother shook her head, the same smile plastered on her lips. “They aren’t vigilantes, close but no. Just kids who love helping out when they can, but I swear, the next time I see them running around during a villain attack, they will be in huge trouble.”

“Do you happen to know their names?”

“Yes,” the mother said slowly, gauging something. “Although they were adopted, they insist that we call them by their old names. You’re looking for a Yamamoto Takeshi and Sawada Tsunayoshi.”

Those names were somewhat familiar but he couldn’t recall where he heard those—

Ah.

(“You want me to recommend a teenager I don’t even know?” he asked, flabbergasted at the principal’s request.

Nedzu, looking fairly smug on his office chair, nodded. “As the principal, I can pull some strings and get them both recommended under my own jurisdiction, but, I’m afraid it’ll look suspicious if I recommend two children.”

“You recommending one student is already suspicious enough,” Yagi reasoned, pursing his lips as he fiddled with his hands.

Nedzu pursed his lips. “Well, if you don’t want to, I won’t push. I’m sure I can find someone else.”

“May I ask why you’re so invested in these two?” The blond quirked his eyebrow. “What are their quirks?”

“Well,” the principal started, “They both have fire quirks—or what seem to be fire quirks. One has blue flames that can slow down objects and persons, and can calm down the panicked.”)

Today, he recalled seeing blue flames reach out to a piece of debris about to fall on a crowd of people.

(“The other has orange flames that burst from his palms, letting him propel himself through the air with great mobility.”)

Today, he remembered seeing orange flames—not of actual fire and danger, but flames that drew you in at the sight, that gently coaxed the willpower within your very soul.

(“But seriously—and I keep telling people this—their quirks are not even half the reason why I want to recommend them. Quirks are not everything.”)

He bent down to the little boy, kneeling. “Are they your heroes?”

The boy looked taken back at the question—because everyone said they weren’t heroes, just a bunch of naive kids—but he soon smiled, white teeth and all. “Yeah! I want to be just like them! They’re amazing!” he declared, determination laced into the color of his eyes.

All Might smiled brightly. And in no way was he trying to promote vigilantism, but sometimes, the world needed to be reminded that heroes didn’t need to fight to be heroes. Heroes could be doctors, and therapists, and soldiers, and firefighters, and sometimes that someone who gave a few dollars to someone living on the street.

Everyone had a hero inside of them. And it was their choice on how to show it.

And when he spoke, it was like all of his past lies had been washed away.

“Yes, they are.”

Chapter Text

Tsuna had been here for a few months when he asked himself how many times he had done this. 

Too many times, honestly. One thing he's learned since being dropped off from the sky was that heroes didn't know how to do their own jobs. He respected them but considering their poor response time and amount of destruction they were responsible for, he wondered how they graduated. 

Takeshi, smiling, and with a hand wrapped around his ankle as he glided through the air Tsuna pulled him through, let go, dropping down into a pile of rubble where cries of help could be heard from. Before he touched down, he spread his blue flames out and drowned the ground with his calming factor, slowing down any dangerous shift of rock. Instability could take a few lives if he wasn't careful.

From the sky, Tsuna continued to search for any sign of life.

There.

Swooping down into a crevice large enough to slip through, Tsuna lifted a little girl from between the two plates of concrete, her soft whimpers twisting a knife in his gut. He heaved her onto his back, made sure her arms were wrapped around his neck, and took off with a swirl of fire. "I'll get you out of here, okay?" he reassured the small child when a watery face pressed into his hair.

Tsuna received a silent nod in response.

Darting to the sidelines where a crowd of spectators watched in horror as buildings continued to fall, his flame diminished quickly as he dropped to the ground. He slid the girl off his back. Getting more attention than he would have liked to from the crowd, he looked to a police officer and said, "Take care of her," before blasting off with a swirl of fire.

Now, to find his Rain.

It wasn't hard. Takeshi stuck out like a sore thumb, with blue flames radiating from his palms as he directed a line of people out of a collapsed structure.

The Rain glanced up.

Orange eyes linked to gold, and a smile met its match.

Tsuna increased his speed before letting one hand sputter out of flame, and as he found his balance with his single engine, extended his hand to his friend, who had jumped up to catch it with his own.

Wind through his hair, Takeshi laughed. "We should do this more often!"

"We do this often enough," Tsuna scoffed halfheartedly, the sunset within his eyes stirring.

Tsuna looked for a way out of the war zone where they could avoid being stopped by a police officer for the thousandth time and be given the same old lecture of not putting themselves in danger. Thankfully, the quirk use law wasn't very enforced, and neither was it looked down upon when quirks were used in self-defense.

Finding an isolated enough area to touch down and make a run for it, they descended feet first, Takeshi swinging like a doll on a string. A second before they were grounded, Tsuna's sky flame faded and apparently, he was still as clumsy as ever and stumbled onto his feet, face heading for the floor. Fortunately, Takeshi was there to catch him.

"Thanks, Takeshi." Tsuna shot his friend a gracious smile before he moved to slip mittens off.

"Clumsy as ever, huh, Tsuna?" Takeshi chuckled lightheartedly as he ruffled the brunet's hair.

The latter swatted his hand away and shouted indignantly, "Your hands are dirty! I just showered an hour ago!"

Scratching the back of his head, the Rain sheepishly replied, "Oops, sorry 'bout that."

About to reprimand his friend, Tsuna opened his mouth to speak before his breath was knocked out of him. He lurched forward and the world came crashing down. Panting as he scrunched up his shirt, chest stiff, something twisted uneasily in his stomach, and it wasn't pain nor discomfort. Just wrongness.

Tsuna hadn't noticed the hand on his back until he realized his Rain was right beside him, a slimmer of concern in his eyes. To lighten up the atmosphere, Tsuna softly chuckled, "Looks like being a vigilant is an around-the-clock job." His smile was uneasy. Gazing up to Takeshi, he searched for confirmation from him.

Grinning, Takeshi shrugged. "Your intuition has always been the right thing to follow, and saving a life has never hurt."

"Yeah, but," Tsuna started, shrinking in on himself, "my intuition is telling me we have to interfere with the villain. You could get hurt, y'know."

Takeshi shot him a comforting smirk. "Don't worry, Tsuna. I'm strong and even if I'm in trouble"—a warm wave washed over the Sky—"I'm sure you'll come to my rescue." His gentle gold eyes told no lie.

Flushing, Tsuna sputtered something incoherent before staring down at his feet, fingers fidgeting. After a moment of what seemed like a decision-making process, Tsuna slapped both his hands onto his cheeks and dragged them down. "When I die, I want to go to heaven," he declared. "No reincarnation. No ghost-haunting. No nothing. I deserve to rest in peace at least." He shot a halfhearted glare at his friend before saying bluntly, "Yamamoto, if this goes wrong, I'm blaming you."

"Ouch." Takeshi feigned a wince. "Resorting to last names, Tsuna? You're more annoyed than I thought you'd be."

"Shut up." Throwing back two blue pills, a fire sparked to life.

A minute later, and the world found a villain's knife thrown across the battlefield, twisting and turning and bending every law of gravity as it flew toward its mark: a distracted hero's back.

Aizawa went freelance on a night patrol when he first met them. He figured that if he was going to be tied down to a desk, teaching snot-nosed brats for another year, he'd loosen up a bit—taste his freedom once more until he had none.

However, surely something had to go wrong on such a beautiful night like this.

Two villains. They set off a devastating attack to a shopping plaza about a year ago and managed to escape arrest. There was Ripple: a large stocky man with scars running from the corners of his lips to his ears, paired with a quirk that could send violent vibrations through any body of matter. And there was his ally, Tracker: an agile man hidden beneath a cloak who could select an object and send it trailing after a desired target.

How troublesome. They seemed fairly intelligent as well, choosing to attack in the small crevice where heroes switched patrol duties. How they found out, Aizawa didn't know.

No use complaining though. Same drill as always: minimize civilian casualties and destruction while detaining the villain. It would've been easier if he had backup (not like he needed it), but with the amount of fallen buildings, causing smoke and debris to cloud the sky, he won't be getting any soon. He wasn't worried. The villains were in for one beating, since they picked the one day Aizawa was feeling like a nostalgic bastard.

Both quirks were quite fatal alone, and with the amount of experience both seemed to have with their respective abilities, it was a problem. The question was which quirk should he erase first.

Another building fell to its knees.

Ripple slammed his hands onto the uneven ground, relentlessly setting off rapid lines of earthquakes that Aizawa had to avoid by jumping out of the way. Something prickled at the back of his head, and his capture weapon had a moment to deflect a knife.

His scarf pulled him up a traffic light pole, letting him have a good view at his opponents.

He weighed the options. Hand-to-hand combat was a given, but he wanted to decrease the amount of potential destruction. If he erased Tracker's quirk, that left Ripple to run wild. By erasing Ripple's quirk, he would cancel out any more mass damage attacks. Ripple's quirk it was. Tracker's hunting quirk would be a challenge, but Aizawa had fought against many villains from all different varieties. His experience points were maxed.

Leaping out of the way of another flying knife, Aizawa slipped on his goggles and descended from the air. His black locks went afloat, his eyes gaining a crimson glow. As he touched down, Ripple's hands were already on the ground, ready to send out a tremor, but it was to no avail. A disgusted and furious glare pinned into the hero as the villain roared, "How dare you! Tracker!"

The latter flickered forward, knives between his knuckles. Quirk humming, the villain threw them all in different directions before all the knives seemed to gain sentience and flew around on their own.

Taking a slow breath, Aizawa's scarf wrapped onto a nearby pole. Stable. That was good. Yanking himself forward to the pole, he avoided a swarm of sharp utensils, only to have to leap out of the crossfire when the swarm did a one-eighty and rushed back.

In the air, descending toward Tracker, Aizawa sent out his capture weapon, curling it around the man. Building enough momentum, the hero swung, hurling Tracker against the side of a concrete structure. A limp body hit the ground.

One down.

Without time to think, Aizawa ducked underneath a punch. His scarf looped around Ripple's arm and tugged down, allowing Aizawa to execute a kick to the stockier man's jaws.

Seeing an opening, Aizawa kicked at a vulnerable spot at the villain's shoulder, and the sound of a pop was loud and clear. Next: the other arm. He moved to dislocate the other one when Ripple swung at him, but the hero was already five steps ahead. Aizawa, in his dodging movement, leaped onto the villain's arm fearlessly and took that moment to slam his heel into the shoulder before pain split past his arm.

A knife crashed against the concrete.

He blinked.

Ah, shit.

And in that split moment of surprise, Aizawa sprung off the villain. "He's still conscious?" the hero muttered underneath his breath. He saw Ripple pop his shoulder back into place. "Great." This time he would finish it. Up in the air, his scarf lunged toward a traffic pole, flinging him toward Tracker's staggering form. Feet first, Aizawa sent down Tracker with two feet to his chest and managed to get back up into the air before another one of Ripple's earthquakes.

"Reinforcements have arrived!" a distant voice called.

Finally.

With adrenaline pumping through his veins and his heartbeat pounding against his head, Aizawa, crimson eyes straining, flung himself at Ripple. Maneuvering around his large fist, and shoving away a flimsy kick with his forearm, Aizawa executed a kick to Ripple's ribs which echoed the sounds of cracks. His capture weapon curled around the villain, restraining his arms together. Scarf solid tight, Aizawa slid underneath the villain's legs, spinning around to deliver a kick to the inside of the knee, causing Ripple to fall to his knees. The capture weapon tightened.

Adjusting his balance, he shifted to strike a kick to the side of Ripple's head with the intention of knocking the villain unconscious. Before contact, an ominous wave struck him through the chest, and his breath somehow vanished from his grasp. A ghost whispered by his ear.

Crimson eyes still active, he spun his head around and found himself in the line of fire of a flying knife.

Tracker. That persistent little shit.

The world held its breath.

His weapon was heavily wrapped around the villain's hands and arms, and his leg was already halfway up in the air. He wouldn't have enough time to dodge. Reinforcements were in the corner of his eyes, yet they weren't close enough. By the time he moved his head, the knife would already be three quarters in his skull, and even if he did manage to angle his head to avoid the weapon, it would hit Ripple's head instead.

Aizawa was at checkmate. Goodness, gracious.

And Aizawa, knife about a heartbeat away, expected pain and nothing, a blinding sting and deafening silence, but instead, was rewarded with blue flames, flickering bright and reaching out like a hand, curling around the knife.

It seemed to distract Death for a breath.

Aizawa had not blinked when a form, kindling of orange flames, quicker than any object or person he had ever seen, dashed toward him and snatched the knife before it managed to pierce his forehead.

He heard Tracker's yells and the click of handcuffs.

So he didn't end up dying today; he's safe for now. How lucky. Knocking Ripple unconscious, his scarf uncurled and he absently rubbed the space where he recalled the sharp touch of metal that almost killed him. His capture weapon returning to his neck, he watched the authorities tie up the two villains. He brought his gaze up to a black-haired kid run up to his flying friend(?). His goggles returned to his neck.

The fire kid, flames no longer igniting from his hands and face no longer looking serious and mature, met Aizawa's eyes, and for a second, the latter saw orange instead of the chocolate eyes he was seeing now. They didn't fit the bill of any heroes or heroes-in-training he knew. Civilians, he decided.

Looking uneasy, the brunet shot him a nervous smile. His black-haired kid glanced over, smiled and waved, slinging an arm around his companion.

He trotted over to them, and each step he took, the brunet shrunk back. Aizawa had a hard time keeping in mind that the nervous wreck was the one who saved him from sudden death.

"If it weren't for the circumstances, I'd send you to the police station to be fined for the illegal use of quirks," he said bluntly, observing—in amusement—as the brunet flinched and the noiret laughed. "But, considering my life was on the line, I won't." When he smirked, the expression of horror on the brunet's face almost made him choke of mirth.

The black-haired kid appeared entertained by their current predicament, but Aizawa saw, no matter how concealed, how the boy's eyes lightly glazed over the hero, breaking down and analyzing him. Aizawa had never felt such vulnerability. "We appreciate it!" the boy exclaimed with a tone of ecstatically. (It didn't seem like an act.) "I'm Yamamoto! And this is my best friend Tsuna!"

The latter, at the sound of his name, met Aizawa's eyes for a second. "Uh, hi there," he sputtered softly, and the image of a sheep and a wolf in sheep's clothing manifested in his mind.

"It's a pleasure. I go by the hero name Eraserhead, " Aizawa greeted. He glanced over to Tsuna. "I'll have to thank you for saving my life back there. It was a close call."

Tsuna scratched the back of his head, sheepishly. "I didn't do it alone."

"Both of you then," the hero corrected.

Yamamoto, grinning, commented absently, "I haven't seen you anywhere on the news or hero comics! You aren't a new hero, are you?"

"No, I've been in the hero business for a while." Aizawa pursed his lips, and nonchalantly added, "I'm an underground hero, therefore you wouldn't have heard of me."

"Oh!" Yamamoto snickered—and was that interest sparking in those gold eyes? "That's really cool, though! You're like a ninja!"

Tsuna peered up at his friend queasily. "Where'd you get ninja from?"

"Y'know, ninjas are sneaky," Yamamoto rejoiced.

"If you'd like to think about underground heroes as ninjas, that's alright with me," Aizawa intervened. He gestured to behind him. "But we're currently standing on unstable rumble and I'd rather keep you two without injuries. You don't have any, do you?"

They shook their heads.

Aizawa sighed. "Good. Now, you have to talk to the police. While you did use your quirks with good intentions, that doesn't make it legal. You will likely to given a warning." 

They blinked innocently at him. Yamamoto even laughed.

"You already have a quirk use record, don't you?"

Yamamoto laughed louder.

What a headache.

Bidding goodbye to the weird duo before they got chewed out by the local police for the thousandth time about vigilantism, Aizawa left the site with a heavy feeling deep in his chest, telling him, unfortunately, this wasn't the last time they would cross paths.

Chapter Text

Tapping his pen against his desk, Nedzu asked, "I trust you've come to a decision," a smile gracing his face.

"Yep!"

A pause of silence. Coughing softly, Nedzu pushed, "Your verdict?"

"No thanks!" Yamamoto quipped, arm slung around his friend.

Nedzu's eye twitched, and his smile twitched as he echoed, "No thanks?" he echoed.

Sawada fiddled with his fingers as his gaze dropped to the floor. With pursed lips, Sawada clarified, eyes reluctantly meeting the principal's, "We'll be declining your recommendation, Nedzu-san."

"Final answer?"

"Final answer."

A nauseous cloud filled his stomach; disappointment, he called it. "Ah," Nedzu said. "I see."

For a second, they stared at each other, unblinkingly before Sawada pulled Yamamoto down into what seemed to be a huddle. Glancing back at him once in a while, they shot fierce whispers at each other.

A slow aching minute passed. Nedzu clicked his pen, and when two heads flickered toward him (as if saying what), he asked, annoyance bubbling beneath his skin, "Is there something I should know?"

Sawada and Yamamoto exchanged looks, moving only their eyes before they straightened. Nedzu, shifting in his seat, prepared himself for their explanation, before nothing happened.

Sawada coughed, softly nudging his friend with his elbow. Yamamoto took it in stride and elbowed his friend back, sporting a warm smile before Sawada, clearly frustrated, sharply elbowed Yamamoto right in the waist. The latter yelped in pain, rubbing the spot and pouting.

Quickly recovering from the pain, Yamamoto stopped slouching and stood confidently. Uneasiness spilled into Nedzu's stomach as the boy chimed in, "Tsuna says you should check the application list!"

"Takeshi!"

Quirking an eyebrow, Nedzu turned to his computer. Jumping to the list of student applications, he skimmed over the hundreds of names, sporting a confused look. He started, skepticism lining thick on his voice, "May I ask what I'm supposed to be looking"—he stopped scrolling—"for..."

Reflecting in his eyes, shone Sawada Tsunayoshi.

He scrolled back up. Then back down. The name was still there—in the name of applications to U.A. highschool. Scrolling all the way down, further and further, he choked as the name Yamamoto Takeshi stared him down to insanity. Nedzu glanced up. Sawada chuckled nervously while Yamamoto dared to appear smug.

"My recommendation was a free ticket!" Nedzu exclaimed. "The evaluation you'd go through would only decide your placing, so why go through the trouble of the actual exam?"

"Tsuna here," Yamamoto snickered, "thought it wasn't really fair."

"Did you have to throw me under the bus?" Sawada hissed to his friend, "Again?"

Nedzu reasoned, "But it's a recommendation. Students receive them because they did something to impress a professional hero. Fairness isn't a factor!"

Sawada, his hands fidgeting against his chest, lost his gaze to the floor. "By being recommended, it gives others a reason to have high expectations of us"—Nedzu couldn't believe his ears; what excuse was that?—"and we really don't want that happening. I just um, felt like we shouldn't be recommended for things that we did, uh... illegally. Public quirk use is prohibited, and if word gets out that the principal of U.A. highschool promotes vigilantism... well, y'know, the rate of vigilantism... might, uh... increase."

Excuses, over excuses. High expectations? Please—what about the other recommended students over the past decade? And with his case of promoted vigilantism, Sawada wasn't fooling... anyone. "Oh." Nedzu stopped his thoughts short. "That's actually very well thought-out reasoning," he confessed as he scratched his chin. If the rumor got out of him recommending students involved with vigilantism, the younger generations would think it's okay to use their quirk in public for so-called good deeds. How could he have missed that? "I can see where that would be unfavorable. Continue."

Blinking at Nedzu's agreement, Sawada continued, "So... yeah. We just decided to take the normal entrance exam. It's mostly a back up plan too, 'cause hero work might not work out for us, and we don't want to waste your time filling out a recommendation."

Nedzu nodded. A bleak look rested on his face, doing nothing to help Sawada feel like his argument was going through. "Uh-huh." He had never understood humans, but he could never fight with logic. "Well, I'm glad you looked ahead for the both of you and for society, and I'll be delighted to see you learning at this very school!" he chirped, grinning.

"B-but," Sawada sputtered, "We might not get in!"

Ah, how amusing. "I have no doubt that you two will get in. Have faith. Plus Ultra, right?" Nedzu winked.

"Plus Ultra!" Locking his friend into a comforting (well, it didn't seem comforting) headlock, Yamamoto beamed, "Yeah, Tsuna! We'll definitely get in!"

"Takeshi, let go of me! I can't breathe!" Sawada frantically slapped his friend's arm. "Tap out! Tap out! I'm tapping out!"

Although he heard them out, Nedzu couldn't help but assume that their explanation was never thoroughly completed. There were a few holes to be filled.

("Hey, Tsuna?"

"Yeah?"

"We could just take the regular exam, y'know."

"What!? But we decided to say no to the recommendation! We spent this entire study session not studying and instead making our explanation seem reasonable!"

"Well, yeah! We're still doing that. We say no to the recommendation, but take the entrance exam anyway!"

"...I don't see where you're going with this."

"Well, I've been itching to fight something, and Squalo's going to be really really mad at me if I don't improve my sword skills while we're here!"

"There could be something to fight in the recommendation exam."

"I searched some stuff and most recommendation exams put you up against each other with some race or a physical test. Y'know, like, who's faster or who's more of a quick thinker. There's probably more action in the regular exam."

"Hie! I don't want to fight things!"

"It'd be fun! Come on, Tsuna! What'd you say?"

"...Well, as long as I don't die.")

Indigo flames surged forward. A hand around his throat, tightening and tightening, and he clawed and clawed at it because he couldn't breathe—and where was the air? Blades—sharped steel with bite and blood—curled around his arms and legs, searing scars where unmarked skin used to be.

Static crashed against his side; a voice, distant yet so close, screeched bloody murder by his ear. Nails on chalkboards and a sword's tip dragged across concrete. Long silver locks dangled in the corner of his eye, and he moved to swing his sword out to find his hand empty.

He called his flames against his chest, but warmth was never something tangible, and the blue light fell back behind shadowed eyes.

A gun shot pierced the tense air, a butter knife through the wind, and his friend keeled over and the only thing he could think about was that sickening smile on Tsuna's face, swirling of fear and regret, and all he could do was watch—

His eyes flickered open.

Heartbeat echoing faintly, drums in his ears but a whisper to the wind, Takeshi sat up on his futon, sighing as he ran a hand through his locks. He looked over to Tsuna's bed, its resident curled up in his blanket, face half-hidden in his pillow. He wasn't snoring.

Takeshi, calm (while his heart was anything but) and wide awake, watched as Tsuna's body bobbed up and down, a breath in and a breath out. He grabbed his bamboo sword from his side and pulled it against his chest, comforted by its presence and quick access.

His Sky's alive. He's breathing and here, and he was okay.

Sounds of soft distant traffic hummed against his ear.

"Takeshi?" a slurred voice asked.

The latter found himself meeting Tsuna's drowsy eyes, and for a second, beneath the darkness, they flickered of fire. "Hey, Tsuna."

"Why are you up?" Tsuna asked, concern lining his soft voice.

The Rain gifted a small smile to his Sky, and if the grip on his sword loosened just a bit at the sound of Tsuna's voice, Takeshi didn't say anything. "Ah, I had a weird dream, that's all."

"How weird?" Tsuna murmured, half-conscious. "Like, giant crab weird or being-sent-to-a-different-dimension weird?

"I'll tell you in the morning," Takeshi replied with a chuckle.

Tsuna glanced to the sword against his chest. "Why are you..."

"I'm alright," Takeshi reassured as he laughed softly, reaching out to ruffle Tsuna's hair. "Go back to bed."

Something conflicted flickered in Tsuna's eyes, his nose wrinkling and eyebrows knitting. "You sure?" he asked, and when Takeshi nodded, he continued, "Okay." The tension leaving his face as sleep ate away at him, he was comforted by the hand running through his locks.

"Sweet dreams," the Rain whispered.

Slurring, the Sky mumbled back, "Sweet dreams. And Takeshi?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't be a stranger, okay?"

The painful wretch of his beating heart remained soundless in the night. "Okay."

"Good night."

And when Tsuna eyelids closed, Takeshi's smile fell, his gold eyes missing the moonlight. "Night, Tsuna."

"If you don't bring back the Tenth, right now, I'll chain you up and drown you in a shark pool!"

"W-we're really sorry, Gokudera! I swear, we didn't mean to do it! We were just testing our replica of the ten-year bazooka when Tsuna and Yamamoto wandered in! It wasn't intentional!"

"How dare you blame your mistakes on the Tenth!"

"We're really sorry!"

"We're already trying to figure out a way to bring them back. They'll be fine; they can take care of themselves.

"They better be, Spanner! It's been a week!"

"Actually, it could be a bit longer for them."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you cannot travel through time without travelling through space. With our dysfunctional ten-year bazooka, the equation might've switched, and it wouldn't be incorrect to assume time passes differently for them. It's a plausible conclusion."

"By the time I come back, I expect the Tenth and that baseball idiot to be here or else I'm going to murder you two."

"...U-understood."

"Got it."

His body screamed at him, and each movement sent a race of strain down his legs. Midoriya sighed, wiping off the sweat on his forehead.

Two months left to clean up the beach and two months until he received All Might's quirk.

With a rope tied around the discarded washing machine, Midoriya tugged at it, dragging it across the sand. A year ago, he wouldn't have dreamed of meeting All Might himself, let alone becoming his successor. But it's real. It's unbelievable, but it was real, and Midoriya didn't want to disappoint him. 

"...cleaning up this junkyard."

Midoriya perked up, pausing in his steps and lowering the rope. 

"It's like a training regime," a voice, different than the first one, replied. "That reminds me—and I never thought I'd say this but, I miss Reborn. If he was here, he'd probably train me half-to-death to be a hero, but still: I miss him. Oh my god, I did not just say that."

The first voice laughed, amused, and Midoriya found it coming from across another pile of junk. "You're really funny."

"Thanks."

Midoriya let go of the rope and climbed over the pile of junk, careful of not making too much noise. Peeking over, he caught the sight of two teenagers, one with brown hair and the other with black hair.

"You know that we have to study."

"For what?"

"The written exam."

"Ah, we'll be fine! You had your tutoring lessons, didn't you? I'm sure if you miss them as much as you do, you'll remember everything you learned."

"I hate you."

The two boys were descending from another junk pile, comfortably chatting with one another, and Midoriya was once again reminded of how lonely he was. Being quirkless meant he wasn't one to easily make friends.

As they fell into step, the brunet moved to take a step down, but Midoriya, eyes sharp as knives themselves, saw the lack of support in the step.

Stomach flipping as he gaped, Midoriya cried, "Watch out!" just as the oven, beneath the brunet's foot, shook.

And for a second, brown met green.

The brunet, unbalanced and taken off guard, fell backwards into open air as gravity took its role.

Overwhelmed by the change of atmosphere, Midoriya tried climbing down from his place, heart hammering against his ribcage.

"Hie!" the brunet yelped, flailing in panic, as he plunged toward the floor where scraps of metal lied in waiting.

Midoriya expected blood—the color red and the smell of metal.

Flames swallowed the sunrise, curling waves and gentle arms. What was golden light and warmth melted into blue. And as it seemed like water, the world made a sea and ocean, it was no surprise Midoriya couldn't breathe. Reaching out, a dash of blue fire curled around the brunet and time seemed to slow.

Time did slow.

Bouncing forward, a necklace full of blue, the noiret climbed down without pause—but the brief flicker of fear in a gold gaze didn't go unnoticed. Where his friend was descending toward the ground painfully slow, he bounded over and slipped beneath the falling form.

Blue flames ebbed away. The black-haired boy, angling, gracefully caught his friend in his arms, barely flinching at the weight. The brunet blinked with wide eyes, still registering what just happened until the noiret lowered his head a little and murmured something to him with a nostalgic smile. The brunet flushed with embarrassment.

Still taken back by the change of events, Midoriya swallowed the lump in his throat and called out, "Are you two alright?"

Looking up to him, the noiret flashed him a grin. "Yeah, thanks!"

With caution, Midoriya clambered down, barely containing his excitement at the boy's quirk. At sea level, he jogged up to them. "Um, hi! I'm Midoriya Izuku."

"Hi Midoriya! I'm Yamamoto Takeshi!" the boy—of blue fire—greeted with a grin. Midoriya painfully noticed the height difference.

The brunet gave a little wave. "Sawada Tsunayoshi."

He nodded in greeting; he looked to Yamamoto. "Your quirk is really cool! Is it a time-lag quirk? Why does it take the form of blue flames?" Midoriya asked, his eyes wide.

Blinking at his antics, Yamamoto laughed, "Ah, um..."

Midoriya's stomach dropped. He sputtered, "S-sorry! I didn't mean to be so pushy! Uh, I just..."—he twiddled his fingers, gaze falling to the floor—"get really excited about quirks. You don't have to answer."

"I don't mind!" Yamamoto reassured with a smile. "I just keep forgetting they're called quirks."

Midoriya blinked. "What else would you call them?"

And with all the confidence in the world, Yamamoto replied, "Mafia powers."

Sawada shot Yamamoto a perplexed look, but the latter took it in stride.

And Midoriya, blinded by his fascination for quirks, realized Yamamoto was still carrying his friend—bridal style. And Sawada realized that Midoriya realized, and poked Yamamoto in the chest, muttering, "You can put me down now."

"Oops, sorry!"

Midoriya chuckled nervously before going back to their conversation. "Mafia powers... um, that's... cool too?"

"Well anyway," Yamamoto began, slinging an arm over Sawada, "You were kind of right—about my quirk, I mean. My blue flames can slow stuff. It's really handy."

Stars practically in his eyes, Midoriya exclaimed, "That's so amazing!" and muttered under his breath, "Would there be a cooldown between using the flames? And how long can he keep it activated? But the quantity or area taken up by it has a factor so there wouldn't be a definite answer. Maybe it's unlimited but all quirks have their limits, and he did mention that I was only sort of right. Perhaps it's a multi-faceted quirk? Could his flames heat—"

"Ah, excuse me?"

Perking up, he found the two boys staring at him, and his face grew red. "Sorry, I'm rambling!"

There was something hidden in the Sawada's smile. "Don't worry about it."

"What Tsuna said," the other added. Brightening with wide eyes, he asked, "What about you?"

The floor fell from beneath his feet. "...What about me?" Midoriya started (although he knew exactly what he was referring to).

"Your quirk!"

Midoriya put on his best smile, even though it hurt so much to act like it was natural. "Oh, my quirk! Um..."

It always came down to this. Quirk, or quirkless.

Sawada's eyes, confused at first, became focused, turning gears and winding clocks. Ink blotches of orange flickered within them. Before Midoriya could come up with an excuse, Sawada patted his friend's arm and said, "Hey, that sushi shop grand opening is about to start, so uh"—he eyed Midoriya for a second—"we should—let's go."

"Oh yeah! The line up will probably be pretty long." As he was tugged away, Yamamoto waved goodbye. "Nice meeting you!" he called.

Midoriya replied, waving back, "Nice meeting you too!"

Sawada glanced back and shot him an apologetic yet understanding look (and beneath that orange-brown gaze, Midoriya wouldn't be surprised if all his secrets spilled then and there). "I hope we meet again!"

A warm flutter surged in his chest, filling his lungs and veins.

When Midoriya turned away, going back to pulling washing machines across sand and avoiding falling junk, only then did he realize he never got the quirk of the second boy.

Chapter Text

"You didn't bring your sword?" Tsuna asked.

"Well, equipment isn't allowed. And anyway, multi-faceted mafia powers would make us more suspicious, wouldn't they?" Takeshi replied. "That's why I didn't log in Shigure Soen Ryu into the database and why you didn't log in your hyper intuition, gravity manipulation, or your box weapon, or your—"

A hand reached up to cover Takeshi's mouth. "I got it! Sorry I asked."

Takeshi glanced at his mittens, tilting his head. "What about your mittens? They let you bring them in?"

"Well"—Tsuna scratched the back of his head—"I can't really use my flames without them so I showed them it was a part of my quirk."

"You mean your mafia power."

"Not my mafia power, my—never mind." Tsuna looked to the side, sighing as he muttered under his breath, "Though at first they thought it was my poor sense of style."

"Mah, they do look kind of lame," Takeshi pointed out, putting it simply.

"Hey! They are not lame..."

Takeshi patted Tsuna's shoulder, grinning and everything but comforting.

"We should go in," Tsuna said as he eyed the building. The property's area was enormous, doing nothing to help settle his nerves. "Better not be late and draw attention to... ourselves," Tsuna drifted off as a blur of sandy blond hair flashed by the corner of his eyes. The floor swerved before going still once more.

"What is it, Tsuna?" Takeshi's gaze gained focus.

Tugging Takeshi's sleeve down, he pointed to the blond boy. "That student over there," he whispered.

Takeshi glanced at him, a curious glint shining in his gold eyes before he looked up to observe the student. "What about him?" he asked.

The thing was, Tsuna didn't know what it was about the boy and why he felt that way. "Just"—something uneasy slithered down Tsuna's spine—"be careful of him, okay?"

Protesting, Takeshi pouted, "But he looks really cool! I wonder what mafia power he has!"

"Please just call them quirks, and Takeshi, no!" Tsuna pleaded as his face lost its color. "Please don't!" He met eyes with the blond teenager and couldn't help but let a small shriek slip past his lips when the boy glared daggers. "Hie!" He shot his friend a look, wide eyes and shaky hands. "See! I don't think we should mess with him! Ever! He's not cool, okay?"

Takeshi, weighing his options, came to his conclusion. He slung his arm around Tsuna's shoulders. "Don't worry," Takeshi reassured as he winked, gold eyes meeting brown, "You're way cooler."

Tsuna flushed, covering his face with his hands, sputtering incoherent words as he looked down at his feet. "Don't say stuff like that!"

("Don't go overboard, okay?"

"Aw, but I want to cut up some robots!"

"No, Takeshi, no.")

Students from the same elementary school couldn't be in the same sector, likely to avoid familiarity. That's what Tsuna and he heard from that scary (well, Tsuna's definition of scary) blond boy a row above them. They had checked their identification cards and found it to be true.

What a shame.

Tsuna was in Sector B; Takeshi was in Sector A.

And for once, in this new world of theirs, Takeshi didn't like what was happening.

Without the familiar pulse of Sky flames by his side, beating like a heart against his skin and soul, Takeshi couldn't stand still. He resorted to going back and forth with tapping his foot and rolling on his heels.

Catching his eye was the boy Tsuna warned him about. A scowling face, paired with mini-explosions going off in his palms, and a fierce intimidating vibe, it reminded him of Hayato.

Takeshi laughed softly. The blond boy sneered at him, "What are you laughing at?"

Blinking in surprise that the blond boy initiated conversation, Takeshi smiled. "Ah, sorry. You just remind me of a certain earlobe."

"What did you say, fucker?" the boy bellowed.

"Nothing, nothing! Sorry," Takeshi said as he put his hands behind his head.

"...s Ultra!" the microphone guy whooped. Takeshi resisted a wince. "And... go!"

Only him and the blond boy took off right away before everyone came tailing after them.

He didn't have his sword. And without his sword and Sky, the emptiness ate away at him. Tsuna told him about meeting his ten-years-later self, and how he had destroyed the Mosca by overloading it with the tranquility factor. Surely, that strategy would work here too.

There's only one way to find out, right?

Level in speed, the blond boy glared knives at him. "You smiley fucker better stay out my fucking way," he snarled, and as a robot came bowling through, intimidating in size, Takeshi opened his mouth to reply before a massive explosion erupted, sending metal shrapnels out like fireworks.

A swell of amazement curled in Takeshi's stomach.

More robots came to view. Smiling but feeling overwhelmed at the display of utter destruction and power, Takeshi replied, "As long as you stay out of mine, Fireworks!" His necklace throbbed against his chest. Blue flames, colors of sea and ice, swarmed, swallowing four scattered robots with a single tsunami.

The crackle of electricity was music to his ears.

"What did you fucking call me, you smiley fucking water boy!?" the explosion boy screeched at him as he took his frustration out on a robot.

"I called you Fireworks!"

Chaos followed, thunder against lightning in all its wrath.

Takeshi dashed forward. Robots, one by one, sank to their knees, with blue flames as the last thing they ever saw. His points stacked up, but Takeshi didn't bother to count them. Math was never his favorite subject.

In the corner of his mind, the stirring of Sky flames burned. Takeshi grinned.

Explosions went off, sounding a chain reaction. Takeshi spun around, falling debris and an unassuming boy catching his eye.

("This is the end, Vongola."

The sound of a gun echoed, marking the day when the sky went dark.)

"Hey, watch out!" Takeshi shouted, rain flames reaching out.

(There was a lot of blood. And there's something stirring in his chest, burning and burning and nothing like his calming rain. He didn't know what it was. But he called it fury.)

The boy looked up and watched in horror—or fascination—as blue fire swallowed up the falling pieces of debris, and managed to jump out of harm's way in time.

His flames receded, and Takeshi breathed.

A shadow engulfed him, and with a glint reflecting in his eyes, he turned around, blue fire roaring. The difference between the color of his flames and the sky? No one could tell.

Electricity crackled, and a metal body hit the floor.

"About fifteen robots?" Takeshi murmured to himself before a smirk carved itself onto his face. His heartbeat drummed in his ears. "Let's go for twenty-five."

Chaos was the background soundtrack, and it reminded him of the Representative battle.

It was instinct to pull someone out of the way of another falling piece of rock. That explosion dude had no tact or preservation.

Evading a robot's punch that left the ground in shreds, Takeshi drowned it in flames, satisfaction rolling in his stomach when it crashed to the ground.

He glanced to the side. "Hey, above you!"

A rock missed its target. "Thanks!"

In front of him, appeared another robot. Recalling back to the briefing, Takeshi mused, this is a three-point robot, right? Smiling, he dashed forward, flames at the ready, only to skid to a stop in favor of covering his eyes when an explosion shook the air, and his hands burned.

(People were shouting for him. Takeshi didn't hear them. But the clouds did, calling and telling him to reach up from the ledge he stood on. His broken arm didn't seem to ache as much anymore.)

Takeshi yelped, stumbling back. Peeking out after the ringing in his ears died down, his eyes fell to his palms, ugly and seared with burns etched into his skin. "Ah," Takeshi muttered, wincing. "That can't be good."

A piece of flying metal hurtled at him, and his necklace pulsed against his chest. Where were his flames?

Vines shot out, snakes and vipers, flickering with great speed as they swiped the metal away with a single lash. Takeshi's gaze followed the vines to a girl, standing off to the side with pursed lips and a still form.

Although his hands were stinging, Takeshi shot her a grin. "Thanks!" he called over. "You have a cool quirk!"

"Thank you. Are you alright?" she asked, gaze glazing over his burnt palms. "You must be in terrible pain."

Takeshi laughed. "I'm okay. I've had worse."

"Please get to somewhere safe," she replied, genuine concern flashing in her eyes. "It wouldn't be favorable for you to keep fighting."

"Ah, well, I've always loved to live life without much discretion," Takeshi said.

The girl pointed out, "There's only a minute or so left. I'm sure it won't be much of difference anyway."

And Takeshi didn't see the girl, and maybe not even the world falling, but instead, what overcame his vision was a boy with the name of a flower and a companion as a form of a rabbit. A boy who made him not himself anymore until the Sky came and told him no—that this wasn't him.

(Tick, tick, the timer went.

The disappointment was suffocating.)

Takeshi's smile strained as he chuckled, "One thing I've learned is that even a second can change a lot of things," and fire sprung out like wings of a certain man, spilling across concrete as water before curling and burying every robot in sight in its stifling blue.

The robots stilled, functions stuttering until they collapsed under the pressure.

"Here comes the zero-pointers!"

Takeshi, catching the stunned face of the girl, laughed once more, brushing off the pain. "Well, I think now is the time to leave."

The girl stared at him as if she was delivering judgement before nodding, "I suppose so. My name is Shiozaki Ibara."

"Yamamoto Takeshi," he replied. "It's nice to meet you."

"Likewise."

"What the hell are you two doing over there!?" a guy yelled. "The zero-pointer is right there! Get out of the way!"

Takeshi looked up, and a bead of sweat trailed down his back. "Oh, crap."

Takeshi hoped Tsuna was doing okay over there.

Tsuna was not doing well over here.

Nope, nope, he thought as he watched people rush past him, taking down robots left and right like they did this for their morning routine. His pills laid still in his palm. Thank god Reborn wasn't here to push him into the chaos.

And to think Tsuna missed the guy!

A laser beam flashed by his face after he took a step back. His heart jumped to his throat. He stood as stone when a blue-haired boy with engines in his legs dashed past him, and he held back a shriek.

Tsuna slapped his mittens onto his face. "Get yourself together!" he reprimanded himself before throwing back his pills and swallowing.

Rain flames pulsed against his skin across the sector over.

He looked around for any targets before a girl cornered by a robot, caught his eye. Tsuna, fire and fury gathering in his fist, hurtled forward through air and punched the robot in the side of the head. The crunch of metal echoed in his ears.

Landing, Tsuna glanced over the girl who gave him a grateful smile before running another way.

Tsuna blinked, sighing. What was he, a hero? And he blinked again. Oh yeah. He was taking an entrance exam to become a hero. "What a hassle," he muttered.

Tsuna eyed a row of robots, and something rumbled in his chest. "No need to go all out," he said to himself. Soft flames came streaming behind him, and his contacts informed him of the amount of minimum power. Hard flames bellowed forward and as the world shook beneath his feet, ash took the robots' places.

How many points was that? He didn't end up counting.

The smell of soot was mildly distracting.

Taking off into the air, he flew, evading various pieces of metal and debris. Locking onto a robot, he raised his fist until the same blue-haired engine boy caved the head in with his heel. He shot him a look, and Tsuna halted his pointless attack. He turned around and went to find a different target.

Only for the same thing to happen again.

"Ah, sorry," Tsuna mumbled when a girl with a gravity-quirk claimed two robots, crashing them to the ground. "Scary."

And again.

"Um... I'll find another one," he said as a laser beam shot through a line of three robots.

Tsuna pursed his lips, sighing as he scouted for more robots that wouldn't be stolen. A lone one caught his eye and he dived down, fist at the ready. Sky flames stirring, the robot's head crunched underneath his fist. A wave of relief rolled through him once he heard the sparks of electricity and other sounds of malfunction.

He continued to scavenge for other robots, scoring a little less points than Tsuna would've liked. But, what would you do?

He could hear Reborn lecturing him.

"What could you do? What could you do? Dame-Tsuna, you know what you could do? You could stop letting people walk over you and actually try to score points!"

"What the hell is that?"

Tsuna looked up, and flew toward the commotion, only to come face-to-face (well, not face-to-face because how tall was that thing?) with a robot the size of... what, a skyscraper?! What the hell was even this entrance exam?

Is this funny to you, Takeshi? Tsuna thought. It probably was; who was he kidding?

A zero-pointer, right?

Yeah, Tsuna wasn't fighting anything like that. Nope, nope. Count him out.

Flames ignited. Tsuna was, out of everyone, the one who most wanted to get the hell out of here, but he stopped. Because through the running crowd, a green-haired boy stood, neither running forward to take the zero-pointer on or escaping with a tail between his legs.

Was he frozen in fear?

"Hey! Run!" Tsuna called, before following the boy's gaze. His stomach sank.

The gravity-girl from before, lied trapped beneath some rubble; the zero-pointer came closer and closer.

"Crap," Tsuna cursed. His flames flared up, building and building, until they cut off short. His gut twisted, a punch to his stomach and a pressure to his ribs.

Don't interfere, his intuition whispered, and Tsuna almost snapped back, why not?But the answer revealed itself before he had to the chance to question his intuition.

The green-haired boy, no longer frozen as statue, ran forward. Tsuna could see the fear. And with such determination, the boy launched himself into the air at a speed which practically teleported him to the height of the zero-pointer.

Tsuna couldn't help but gape.

The boy pulled his fist back, and even Tsuna could sense the power building up.

"...SMASH!"

The robot's head caved in, pieces of metal sent flying as its body fell back, balance lost and systems down.

A middle-schooler could do that? What kind of limits could this world surpass?

Recovering from his surprise, Tsuna watched in horror as the boy plummeted to the ground, flailing with two broken—more than broken, mind you—limbs, and showing no signs of slowing down, and yet still—Tsuna's intuition didn't let him move.

("Trust your intuition, Dame-Tsuna. Never doubt it.")

The gravity-girl beneath the rubble, reached out with shaky fingers.

Oh, Tsuna thought.

And as the gap between the boy and the ground closed, the girl swung her hand, nailing the falling boy right in the cheek. Tsuna sighed in relief as the boy began floating before he became a flat pancake on cement (which did not paint a pretty picture).

Present Mic announced the end of the entrance exam, and conversation stirred up with the contestants.

Tsuna, on the other hand, stepped to the side, letting his fire fade and gloves turn back to wool.

He didn't get as much points as he would have liked too, but it was good enough. Resting his hand on the back of his neck, he accepted the gummy bears from Recovery Girl.

Chewing, he looked up to the sky as he rolled his shoulders back. Why was Tsuna taking this exam again?

Oh yeah. Takeshi.

As he watched Recovery Girl heal up everyone, Tsuna could only mutter under his breath, "Takeshi, once I see you, I will strangle you."

Huddled underneath a blanket pulled around him, Tsuna kept his gaze where the projection was, his eyes lost to the wall. He fidgeted with his hands. There was a lump in his throat, and the rapid beating against his ribcage must be his heart.

Tsuna breathed out, tugging the blanket a bit closer to his body before closing his eyes and pressing his back against the wall, as if in need of a physical support.

The U.A. letter laid on the floor, opened and empty.

He glanced outside his window, clouds finding themselves in his eyes.

Tsuna reached across his bed to grab his phone and flung it into the air when his bedroom door burst open. His phone hit the floor with a thump.

"Takeshi?" Tsuna sputtered, still half-hidden in his blanket. "What are you doing here?"

Takeshi replied, "Yo!" Smiling like always, Takeshi jogged over to Tsuna's desk before taking a seat on his chair. "A surprise visit! With a purpose!"

Tsuna shot him a look.

Takeshi's expression didn't change. "Okay, okay. I got my U.A. results, so that probably means you got yours too, right?"

"Uh, yeah," Tsuna chuckled, gaze going to the window. "I did. Just now."

Tsuna could feel Takeshi's eyes on him, and Tsuna coughed, bending over his bed to snatch his phone to find it... not there. Looking up, Takeshi held his phone out for him, that familiar stupid grin on his face.

Tsuna mumbled his thanks as he took his phone back before Takeshi tilted his head at him, as if studying a rare specimen. "You didn't pass?"

"Oh, no, I did—I did end up passing... You did too, right?"

"Yep!" Takeshi chirped. "I got into Class 1-A, isn't that great?" Takeshi rested his feet on Tsuna's bed frame, hands behind his head.

Perking up, Tsuna's eyes flickered orange. "Class 1-A!" he exclaimed, smiling softly. "That's great! It's not even a surprise because you're always amazing at everything, Takeshi!"

If Tsuna noticed Takeshi's eyes narrowing, he didn't say anything.

"What about you, Tsuna?" he asked, his eyebrows scrunching. Gold eyes gained a glint.

Rain flames spilled, and Tsuna wondered if it was intentional.

Tsuna mumbled something underneath his breath, and Takeshi chose to swing his legs back to the ground. He scooted over, chair skidding across wood.

Silence reigned as Takeshi extended his arm and took Tsuna's hand in his own. Coaxing Rain flames reached out, gentle and calm like ocean tides at midnight, and Sky flames met them halfway.

"Tsuna?" Takeshi asked.

"Class 1-B."

Takeshi blinked and echoed slowly, "Class 1-B?"

"Yeah," Tsuna said.

And it wasn't something horrifying. There had been many horrifying things Takeshi's been through since being drawn into the mafia, and this wasn't even close. But the entrance exam was enough. It was suffocating enough. The Sky disappeared far far away and the Rain became close to something lost; it couldn't find its calling without the familiar thrum of orange fire.

(Hold the memory, and pray it will lead you back home.)

"Oh."

Chapter Text

"Is it like this?"

"I don't think so."

"How did you—Takeshi!" Tsuna started, as he turned away from the mirror. "Where's your tie?"

Takeshi melted into Tsuna's blanket, closing his eyes in bliss. "Mah, I don't want to wear it."

Tsuna managed to hold back a sigh. "At least help me with mine, please," Tsuna replied, fiddling with the ends of his tie.

Takeshi poked his head out from the covers. Shrugging them off and sliding off the bed, Takeshi walked over and said, opening his hands, "Here."

Handing over the tie, Tsuna watched with wide eyes as Takeshi hooked it over his neck, tying odds and ends together before making a neat tie. Takeshi pushed it up, and Tsuna patted his arm frantically. "Too tight—I can't breathe, Takeshi, I can't breathe—"

"Oops, sorry," Takeshi chuckled, loosening the tie.

A hand against his chest, Tsuna caught his breath as he murmured, "Thanks."

Takeshi rested both hands behind his head as he gazed out Tsuna's open window. "Do you have your pills?"

Tsuna nodded, reaching into his uniform and pulling out a capsule. "Yeah, but I have to be careful with using them too often because I don't want to run out. I had to restock them. Before we got here, I mean."

Something crossed Takeshi's face. "Weren't you using them a lot when we did rescue work?"

Tsuna blinked and scratched his cheek. "Ah, well," he began, eyes darting to anywhere else. "I haven't gotten full mastery over my flames, so I've been switching between pills and no pills so I can adjust."

"Well, I'm sure you can figure it out, Tsuna," Takeshi reassured, shooting a small grin at his friend.

"Thanks," Tsuna muttered. His cheeks puffed up.

"Tsuna! You and Yamamoto better get going, or you're going to miss the train!" a voice called from below the wooden floors.

Tsuna shouted, grabbing his schoolbag from his desk, "Okay! We're going!" He turned to his friend, hooking his bag over his shoulder. "You ready?"

"Yep!" Takeshi chirped.

"Got your sword?"

"Yep. Let's go."

They rushed out of Tsuna's room and down the stairs, grabbing a piece of toast each from the kitchen and dashing outside of the house.

("Tsuna, there's a road bump over th—ouch. That must've hurt."

"Can you help me up, please? Take—stop laughing!")

They made their way over to the station, joyful smiles yet tired eyes in all.

Between them, silence reigned. The crack of dawn spilled golden dust past blue strokes of paint, but light had never been something tangible, and although identical and as wide and endless, the sky still wasn't their own. The air, fresh in its wake, was suffocating.

A pang of wrongness twisted in his stomach—weak but still there—Tsuna closed his eyes and breathed. "Do you know that feeling when..." Tsuna murmured, the wind through his locks and the sun on his face, "There's something horribly wrong... but, you can't do anything about it?"

And in the ground, something shook.

Takeshi, without a beat, reached out and took Tsuna's hand in his own, and squeezed, their hearts slowing and pulsing and thrumming against familiar flames. "Yeah," Takeshi admitted, and he himself couldn't believe how gentle his voice came out to be. "Everyday."

Tsuna hummed, and Takeshi swung their entwined hands back and forth as he popped the last piece of toast into his mouth.

Hand in hand, they entered the station, brushing off odd looks from onlookers; they grabbed a seat as they waited for the train.

Takeshi stretched out his legs, yawning. "Wonder what they'll make us do today. Introductions probably. Maybe a tour?"

Tsuna froze. "In-introductions? What am I supposed to... to say if we actually do introductions?"

"Y'know," Takeshi replied. "Your name, hobbies, interests, what time you shower, your guilty pleasures, your birthday—"

Tsuna grumbled under his breath, "Two of those are too personal." He bit into his bread.

Takeshi glanced at him, his gold eyes catching the light.

Meeting his gaze, Tsuna asked, "What?"

And without a pause, Takeshi commented, "You look like a chipmunk."

Tsuna almost spat out his food before stuffing it down his throat. Coughing, cheeks dusting red, he snapped, "I do not!"

Takeshi laughed, resting his chin on his hand as something akin to affection gleamed in his gold eyes. "You do. Well, you did," he confessed, smiling. "Take another bite and I'll snap a quick picture."

"No thanks," Tsuna scoffed, looking away before taking another bite of his bread. The hand in his slipped away, and in the corner of his eye, Tsuna saw Takeshi take out his phone.

"Say Vongola!"

"Don't you dare," he mumbled, mouth full.

Takeshi pouted. "Come on, Tsuna."

"No."

"Please? Tsu—"

"I said no."

Midoriya scrolled through the examination results, and a swell of pride rolled through his belly when his name flashed across the screen.

Eighth place? Out of hundreds?

Tears burned at the back of his eyes, but he shook his head, brushing them off. He's cried enough today.

His gaze skimmed down the list as he tried to find any familiar names.

Kacchan made the top ten—or simply put, he made first place (but was that really a surprise?). And the girl he had saved placed third!

He continued down, filing away the names Kirishima Eiijiro, Ibara Shiozaki, Yamamoto Ta—wait. He narrowed his eyes at the name.

Yamamoto Takeshi, fifth place: Forty-two villain points and twenty-three rescue points.

"It's that boy from the junkyard," Midoriya mumbled to himself as he eyed his quirk notebook. "The one with flames that could slow down the process and movement of anything it touched." Reaching out, he flipped through his notebook, finding the boy's unique page.

Midoriya smiled. He probably made it too, he thought. He glanced back at the leaderboard and doubled-back when another familiar name crossed his vision. Sawada Tsunayoshi, the other boy, was in the tenth place slot.

"I wonder if I'll be in the same class as them," he murmured as he turned off his computer.

"Do you know if there's a map of the school somewhere?" Tsuna asked, looking at the massive campus with nothing more than amounting horror. He shrunk in on himself.

"I think there's one in the agenda," Takeshi replied, patting Tsuna's shoulder. "Didn't bring mine though."

Tsuna angled his head to peek over at his friend. "Why did you say that so confidently?"

"Mah, mah," Takeshi chortled, "It's not really a big deal. I'll manage."

Sighing, Tsuna let his shoulders drop as they entered the building. Rummaging through his school bag, Tsuna pulled out his agenda, flipping through the pages before a map caught his eye.

"Ah, found it!"

They followed the path that would keep them together until the last possible moment, and it worked out well, considering their homeroom classes were on the same floor.

There, open skies parted from the water.

"See you at lunch!" Takeshi called down from across the hallway.

Tsuna waved. "See you!" Once his friend faded away from his field of vision, something thrummed beneath his skin.

Walking down the hall, the floor couldn't help but sway beneath his feet. Tsuna slipped his agenda into his bag when he got the general path and stopped in front of a massive door marked 1-B. With wide eyes, he took a breather before slipping in, bag held close to his chest.

His abrupt appearance drew attention, but not as much attention as when his foot caught on a desk leg, causing him to lurch forward with a yelp.

A large hand shot out and wrapped around his torso, gentle and nothing like it would have seemed to be, catching him before he could bang his head against a desk corner and die.

It placed him back on his feet with a stumble.

"You okay?" a girl asked, and as Tsuna glanced up, he was reminded of his fading crush he had loved throughout middle school.

Tsuna nodded, breathless. "Thanks for... for catching me."

The girl handed his bag back to him (when had he dropped it?). "Kendo Itsuka," she beamed. "Nice to meet you!"

"Sawada Tsunayoshi," he replied. "But you can call me Tsuna."

"A fellow classmate," a blond boy chimed in from a desk, making the effort in getting up and walking over to him. "My name is Monoma Neito. I look forward to sharing a class with you." He extended a hand.

Uneasiness twisted in his gut as he shook Monoma's hand. "Um, yeah. Me too. I hope we get along," Tsuna wished as he gave a small dip of his head.

"Ah, so you hold much disdain toward Class 1-A as well?" Monoma questioned, a glint of pride glaring in blue eyes. He squared his shoulders and straightened.

Where had he gotten that from? Tsuna blinked, tilting his head and furrowing his eyebrows. "Oh... oh, um... no. W-why would I?"

Monoma smirked and ran a hand through his hair, chin held high as he mocked, "For many reasons. Like how those fools think they're such special little munchkins. Do you not think we should put them in their rightful place, right in the dumpster?" A dark glint filled his eyes.

Tsuna scratched the back of his head before resting his hand on his nape. "Well, the first day of school hasn't even started yet, so I don't... I don't think we should... have such a strong opinion of them yet. And, um... my best friend is in Class 1-A... so," he drifted off as his eyes darted across the room in search for a savior.

And there she was.

Kendo swatted Monoma on the head before he could respond. Sighing, she chided, "Don't drag your classmates in with your negativity or your evil ploy! You're a terrible influence!"

Tsuna, watching their battle of words, itched away to an empty desk. Near the middle like where he always tended to sit back in Namimori.

Ah, Namimori.

He melted across his desk, arms dangling over the edge. Letting a soft breath slip past his lips, he loosened his shoulders, knocking a foot against the chair leg. I want to go back, he thought to himself. Back to my bed. Back to mom. Back to all my Guardians. Back to Reborn. Back to my weird life. Back home.

In his pocket, his phone buzzed. Slipping it out, he unlocked it when the message alert sign caught his attention.

Takeshi: Find your class?

Tsuna: Yeah. What about you?

Takeshi: Yep. Midoriya's here too!

Tsuna: Midoriya?

Takeshi: Y'know, the guy we met at the beach junkyard. Messy green hair, green eyes, loves quirks?

Tsuna: Oh, him! Thought I saw him at the entrance exam, but I wasn't sure.

Takeshi: He's a really cool guy. Everyone is! There's this invisible girl, a bird, an octopus, and even that Fireworks dude I told you about!

The typing bubble popped up once more before going blank. Takeshi never did that; he always said what was on his mind. Tsuna's intuition trilled, whispering for him to not to question it when Takeshi didn't text anything for the next minute.

Before he forgot, he put his phone on silent.

Lying his head on the desk, Tsuna noted as more students walked in through the minutes. The noise level began to rise, and Tsuna rested his chin on his arms as he observed every new entering student.

Green—but not the shade of spring grass or moss—hair caught Tsuna's eye, and the conversation between Takeshi and him dripped into his mind, staining color and sound in his head. It was the girl Takeshi had told him about. His heart slammed against his rib cage. Breathing in as flimsy confidence swelled in his chest, he stood up and walked over to her desk by the window.

Drawing her attention, he quickly stammered, "Um... hi! I'm Tsuna. You're Ibara Shiozaki, right?"

"Yes, I am..." she replied, hands folded together on her desk. "Do you happen to need something?"

"Um, kind of," Tsuna said, fiddling his fingers. "You met a friend of mine in the entrance exam. Yamamoto Takeshi?"

Tsuna noted she angled her feet toward him. A good sign. She responded, "I do recall meeting him."

Tsuna continued, "I just want to.. to thank you for saving him. He's kind of reckless and too carefree sometimes, so... thanks again." He bowed, arms by his side.

"It was something anyone would have done, given the opportunity," Ibara said with a smile containing the warmth of evening light. "I'm just content he made it out without any severe injuries. May I ask how his hands are?"

"His hands?" Tsuna echoed, pondering over the words. "What about his hands?"

Ibara tilted her head, and even Tsuna could spot the twitch of her eyes. She asked, going over each word like it was a step forward into thorns, "Did he not tell you?"

Tsuna paused before quirking a smile, letting a chuckle slip past his lips. "Oh! His hands... yeah, they're okay. Thanks for asking. I better, um"—Tsuna's eyes fell to his hands—"Go back to my desk."

"Well, I'm glad he's in good health now. It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Tsuna scratched the back of his head. "Thanks. It was nice meeting you too," he murmured before returning to his desk.

What had happened to Takeshi's hands? Tsuna asked himself as a large stocky man, sporting a red and black hero suit walked into the room. And why didn't he tell me?

In his ear, his dormant sky flames, gentle and accepting in its touch, roared.

Aizawa never believed in fate, or anything as special as that. But could you write this off as a simple coincidence? The not-vigilante duo decided to take the U.A. entrance exam, and one of them managed to slip under his jurisdiction.

In the practical exam, their performances were quite... surprising. Apart from their vigilante work where they focused on preventing casualties and rescue work, the two teenagers were ruthless and merciless in destruction.

Sawada, who was a timid boy at first glance, owned the sky, fists blazing and raging fire and flight. And the way his eyes gleamed, sunsets and all, Aizawa wondered if it was a sort of mutation.

And Yamamoto, chilling fire and rain, kindled quiet havoc. Anyone would be wary if they witnessed how, despite burned hands, the boy conjured waves of blue fire and drowned every robot in his path.

("We want to balance Class 1-A and 1-B. So it would be best"—the principal pushed forward two student files—"if we separate these two students. They're very well-rounded, and have... experience in rescue work. By having them in the same class, it would tip the power scale a bit further than I'd like."

Aizawa couldn't help but ask, "Are you positive this would be a good choice?" as from that day full of knives and earthquakes, even he could feel something ominous stirring in his chest.

Nedzu, who'd most often smirk, wore a blank face. "Yes."

Kan asked, confirming, "So, Yamamoto Takeshi in 1-B, and Sawada Tsunayoshi in 1-A?"

"The opposite," Nedzu said as he sipped his tea.

Kayama mentioned, gesturing a hand, "That Yamamoto kid had the most points between the two of them. Both in villain and rescue. If we're talking about the power scale, it would be Class 1-B for him. Sawada let people walk all over him during the entrance exam, and was one of the participants who stood frozen at the sight of the zero-pointer. He did nothing to help that trapped girl."

Aizawa shot her a look. What about the other participants who turned tail and ran?

And Nedzu looked up from his cup of tea, amusement gleaming in beady eyes. "Is that what you saw?")

"Ah, Eraserhead!" Yamamoto exclaimed, walking up to him last after everyone else left to change. "I didn't know you were a teacher here! Why didn't you tell us?"

"There wasn't a reason to," he replied.

Yamamoto blinked, as if having an epiphany. "I guess you're right. So I have to call you Aizawa-sensei then? Tsuna too?"

"Yes," Aizawa deadpanned before handing Yamamoto a uniform. "Now go change already and meet me in the field."

"Mah, mah, I'm going now," Yamamoto smiled, slipping past him and following the rest of the boys to the changing room.

Aizawa watched him leave with narrowing eyes.

The Calming Rain Quirk: blue flames with a tranquility factor that could steal a target's strength and hinder movements.

With such mastery, a quirk like that was terrifying.

He met everyone on the training field. As he went over the Quirk Apprehension Test, in the corner of his eye, Aizawa observed the boy, eyeing the sword bag he always carried with nothing but amounting suspicion.

Let's see if he can match up with expectations.

For the fifty meter dash, the younger brother of Ingenium scored the highest. And Yamamoto, despite not having a quirk to help with speed (and just the opposite) scored five point eight seconds.

Neither did he have a strength factor in his quirk, yet still, the boy scored an eighty kilograms on the grip test.

Almost three meters for the standing long jump.

And way above average score on the repeated side steps.

Yamamoto didn't even look winded. He stood there—with that irritating smiling face. Was this kid even human? But Aizawa wasn't one to judge. As his quirk did nothing to help him physically, Aizawa had to learn how to overpower villains with skill and technique. But that took years.

And now, as the last test, it was the inevitable ball throw.

After going through the students and after seeing Bakugo's and Uraraka's score, all Aizawa wanted to see was a normal score from Yamamoto. Not to put him down, but to know if the boy could meet minimal expectations.

He kept in mind of that Midoriya kid, who so far, had scored the lowest in almost everything.

Aizawa handed the ball over to Yamamoto who took it with a grin, gold eyes gleaming something like excitement. Aizawa resisted a sigh when the kid went, "How fun! We're doing baseball!"

Crossing his arms, Aizawa shot him a nonchalant look. "If it helps, imagine the hitter is across the country."

Yamamoto laughed and exclaimed, "Okay, okay!" The boy mumbled something else under his breath.

Aizawa refrained from rubbing his temples, but a sigh still escaped him. "Give it your best shot then," he muttered.

Taking his place, Yamamoto swung his arm back and forth, stretching any stiff muscles. He turned sideways. And as Yamamoto breathed out, he raised his leg, found his center of balance, and threw.

"Across the country, huh?"

And though he had less than half as much power from Bakugo's throw, and a puny distance compared to Ochaco's, the ball rocketed out of his hand, tearing through wind and reaching up to the far sky.

The ball became a blur as it descended.

Aizawa shot a glance at the meter calculator before he displayed it to the slack-jawed class. One hundred and forty meters. That's around a football field and a half. Did this kid have a secret strength quirk, or did he play regular human baseball like he had hinted at?

What a headache this kid would be.

With no strength or speed quirk, no stamina or endurance quirk, the boy placed seventh on the overall test, and when Yamamoto shot him a peace sign, Aizawa could only think of one thing:

What a monster.

Chapter Text

In search of his friend, Tsuna wandered around the cafeteria, navigating through the bustling crowds. 

Tsuna pursed his lips into a thin line. This place was loud and not civil and had too much crowding and Kyoya had really rubbed off on him, hadn't he?

From another table, Tsuna caught Monoma's eye, and the blond called over without a pause, "Tsuna! Would you like to sit with us?"

Kendo smiled and waved from beside him.

Blinking, Tsuna apologized with a strained smile, "Sorry! I already agreed to sit with a friend. Maybe another time!"

"Are you sitting with that 1-A fraud?"

A small laugh fell past Tsuna's lips. "He's not a fraud. He's my—"

"Best friend?" Gentle arms swooped in, curling around his stomach as a chin hooked onto his shoulder. Familiar laps of flames nudged at his own. "How's it going, Tsuna?" Takeshi greeted. He tightened his grip, pulling Tsuna closer to his chest. "Making friends?"

"Uh," Tsuna sputtered, "I guess so."

"That's great!" Takeshi exclaimed. "Wanna sit with Midoriya? He's with that gravity girl and engine boy."

Tsuna hummed as he settled with Yamamoto's weight, "Sure. I bought your lunch already. Sushi and milk, right?"

Takeshi grinned against Tsuna's cheek, reaching under Tsuna's arm to grab a sushi roll and pop it in his mouth. "Yep! Thanks, Tsuna! I'll lead the way."

Tsuna didn't budge.

And without a second to breathe or even to think: "What happened to your hands?"

Takeshi's smile never faltered. "My hands?"

"You can tell me, y'know," Tsuna murmured as Takeshi's arms slipped away. Tsuna turned around. The buzz of noise in the background faded to white silence.

"Ah, well, I wasn't careful, and I"—eyes flicked of uneasy waves, and Takeshi broke off—"Don't worry about them!"

Tsuna gave him a look, like a mother scolding a child.

Takeshi responded with a grin, reaching out to ruffle Tsuna's hair, "Recovery Girl dropped a visit so all better!" Lips became strained. Rain flames thrashed beneath where the sun hit the water.

Tsuna, the Sky that accepted all, took Takeshi's hand. Mustering up a smile of happy memories and sweet morning sunlight, Tsuna decided, "Let's go meet your new friends. You always meet the best kind of people, don't you?"

("And you're the best I've met.")

With the topic change, Takeshi led Tsuna to their lunch table, a stone smile replaced with soft waves.

For the second rain flames opened up, Tsuna dug deep into what people called pain, and on his friend's hands, he could still feel them. The burns, that is.

When Yamamoto said he was going to find a friend, Midoriya knew it would be Sawada Tsunayoshi. Midoriya had never been more sure.

From the distance, Yamamoto, hand-in-hand with Sawada, dragged him over to their lunch table. 

"Hey, guys!" Yamamoto greeted as the two took their seats.

Uraraka replied with a grin, "Welcome back! Who's your friend?"

Sawada fiddled with his hands, but he answered, dipping his head, "I'm Sawada Tsunayoshi from Class 1-B, but people call me Tsuna."

"Ochaco Uraraka! 1-A!" she replied, quirking a smile. "Nice to meet you!"

Iida slipped in, extending a hand, "My name is Iida Tenya, also from Class 1-A. It is a pleasure. You received tenth place on the entrance exam, did you not?"

Tsuna returned Uraraka's smile and Iida's handshake. "Likewise. I hope we get along," he said before adding, "And yeah. You got seventh place, right?"

Iida adjusted his glasses. "That is correct."

Tsuna turned to Midoriya, recognition flickering in his eyes, "You're the guy from the beach, right? Midoriya Izuku?"

"Oh!" Midoriya perked up, squaring his shoulders. "Yes, I am! It's nice to see you again."

"You cleaned up the entire junkyard, didn't you?" Tsuna asked as he dug into his rice, gaze still fixed on him.

Midoriya answered, scratching the back of his head as he let a chuckle slip past his lips, "Yeah, I did. It was tiring, but it was worth it."

Tsuna offered a smile. "That takes lots of commitment. I could never do that since I can't even clean my own room on a weekly basis."

Flushing, Midoriya's hands flew up. Cheeks grew red. "A-ah, well... thanks—thank you!" He shrunk in on himself. "But it wasn't... I did it for training."

"We went there this morning!" Yamamoto popped in, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. "I never knew that messy beach could look so pretty! You really are a great guy." 

The conversation ended there, and in the idle silence they ate in, Midoriya recalled a certain question he forgot to ask.

"If you don't mind me asking, Tsuna, what's your quirk?"

Tsuna looked up from his rice, tilting his head. "My quirk?"

"It's a kind of fire quirk. I think."

Uraraka cut in with, "You think?"

Iida listened in.

Tsuna said between bites, "Well when I went to the doctor, they couldn't find a proper explanation for my quirk. It looks like fire, and it can become fire, so I guess it's fire?" He shrugged. "I don't really know."

"Is it like Yamamoto's quirk?" Midoriya added, curiosity swirling in the pit of his stomach.

Yamamoto and Tsuna exchanged a brief yet stiff glance before Yamamoto explained with knitted eyebrows, "When there's a fast or really crazy thing, my flames go schhhhh, and the thing going kabaam goes Baam! Shhh...... so then—"

Tsuna interrupted, elbowing his friend, "He means his flames can calm things down. Mine can burn stuff or serve as a source of power. That's what our quirk files say anyway."

"Wow!" Uraraka burst out. "That's so cool! Mind if you show us some time?"

Tsuna genuinely looked put off by the question. "Ah, umm... well, I don't know if we co—"

"Sure!" Yamamoto slipped in, slinging a shoulder over Tsuna. "We can hang out after school or something. You can make things float, right?"

Uraraka grinned, pumping her fist. "Yep! I have a gravity quirk, so if I touch an object with all five fingers, I can make it float! That's why when I pick things up, I don't use my pinky."

"That's super cool!" Yamamoto beamed, crushing a suffocating Tsuna against his side. "Hey Tsuna, you can do that t—"

Tsuna stood up from his chair, slipping from Yamamoto's grasp. "Ah!"

The four students looked at him with varying expressions.

Realizing the strange situation he put himself in, Tsuna laughed, hands hidden behind him. "Look at the time! It's class t—it's time to go—yeah, I've got to go to class."

"But you've barely touched your lunch," Iida pointed out. "It's important to have your fill since heroics lessons need you to be in top shape."

"Ah ha." Tsuna picked up his lunch tray. "I have a small appetite. See you later guys!"

Tsuna walked away from their table. Well, more like he ran. And when he left the cafeteria all together, Yamamoto turned to Midoriya and asked, "Was it something I said?"

Bursting into the room, they expected to find themselves face-to-face with a villain or a nuclear weapon... only to find it empty.

They straightened from their combat positions, their nerves cooling off a bit.

"Where are they?" Kaminari complained. He knocked his foot against the wall repeatedly before Jiro glared at him. Electricity danced on the surface of his skin.

Jiro plugged her earphone jacks into the wall. "There isn't any other place with signs of activity," she answered as she heard nothing but her own heartbeat echo back.

Kaminari sighed, crossing his arms. "We don't have enough time to run around like the three blind mice."

"You don't need to state the obvious." Jiro shushed, "Keep quiet. I'm going to listen for vibrations."

"Okay, okay."

Through her earphone jacks came a chilling silence and her fastening heartbeat... and Kaminari's stupid breathing. A sigh hanged on the tip of her tongue but she suppressed it. Not a time to get annoyed.

The seconds ticked down until, "Marco!"

And Kaminari, being the stupid airhead he was, replied, "Polo!"

Jiro spun around to find someone dropping down from the ceiling onto the blond idiot's back, knocking him down to the floor.

Jiro only had a second to dodge a bamboo sword that flashed by the side of her head. Ducking down and jumping back, she readied herself to engage in combat.

Tapping his sword on his shoulder, Yamamoto laughed, "Woah! You dodged that! I'm getting pretty rusty."

Jiro, with her heart slamming against her rib cage, swallowed the lump in her throat and quipped with a smirk, "You shouldn't underestimate your opponents, y'know."

"I'm not, I'm not," Yamamoto reassured, waving his hand. "Your hearing's amazing too," he complimented before lunging forward, sword drawn by his side. And although she saw him take off, the next time she blinked, he was right in front of her.

With a gasp, Jiro slipped past another swing by the skin of her teeth. Although it was a bamboo sword, Jiro didn't doubt it could pack a few painful hits.

Behind Yamamoto's shoulder, she watched Kaminari sway to his feet.

They could win this.

Kaminari's body crackled, and electricity weaved like spun wool across his skin and through his bones. He charged at Yamamoto with a warrior's battle cry. Yamamoto spun around to face him, and a familiar light sparked in sharpened eyes.

Taking her chance, Jiro slammed her earphone jacks into the floor. She amplified the sound of her heartbeat, intending to tear apart the floor beneath Yamamoto, but not before the latter stepped aside and tripped Kaminari with the tip of his sword.

What.

Without fully tripping, Kaminari recovered his footing and whirled around to try again only to be swallowed in a wave of blue flames. Kaminari's body weighed down. His electricity sputtered out, and when the ground crumbled beneath them, Yamamoto jumped to safety while Kaminari fell through the floor.

"What the heck..." Kaminari slurred, even though his normal reaction would be to scream.

Yamamoto called out with an apologetic voice, "Sorry! I'm pretty competitive with games! Aren't you—"

A tunnel of sound zipped past his ear after he leaped to the side just in time.

Jiro's earphone jacks slipped out of her boots before she bolted out the room into one of the many corridors.

Yamamoto, with a chilling smile resting on his face, gave chase. "Are we playing tag now?"

Dashing down the hall with Yamamoto right on her tail, Jiro's stomach dropped. A new kind of fear coiled under the surface of her skin and a shiver raced down her spine. She sweated bullets.

Jiro watched Yamamoto during the Quirk Apprehension Test, as many others had been. She knew what kind of physique Yamamoto had, and she knew she couldn't stay ahead of him for long. The thing she didn't know was what his quirk was, as... he hadn't used it during the test.

Her only hint: blue flames.

(Sunshowers shifted to gray clouds.)

She had to think. And she had to think fast.

Jiro made a sharp turn down another hallway and continued running as she could clearly hear the overlap of footsteps. Her lungs burned. Looking from wall to wall, she noted the hallway's width. A last resort popped up into her mind.

Without turning around, Jiro extended and rammed her earphone jacks into the floor. There wasn't a second of hesitation as she sent out her amplified heartbeat through the concrete. The hallway was narrow, so Yamamoto wouldn't have any chance to jump away and dodge this. He couldn't fly, could he?

The concrete floor cracked and crumbled, and Yamamoto stood in place as he watched the floor fall beneath his feet. He yelped as he plummeted to the lower floor. Jiro snuck a relieved glance at her falling classmate.

"Nothing personal!" Jiro shouted down as a smile settled on her face.

And then: "The feeling is mutual!"

From the gaping hole sprung up that same mesmerizing blue fire, calming yet fierce in its roar. It rose like an ascending eagle, and in the time it took her brain to break out of its daze, capture tape snapped around her sides, locking her in place.

"What?" Jiro cried, eyes wide and mouth agape. She whipped her head back and found her gaze on Yaoyorozu, who she hadn't seen since the teams were decided. Flames lapped at the base of her shoes.

Yaoyorozu smiled with a cold edge.

All Might's voice rang out through the entire building when he announced, "The heroes have been captured! It's the villains' victory!"

(Jiro could still hear Kaminari screaming hysterically for help from the floor below.)

"An obstacle course?"

Kan nodded, crossing his arms. He paced as he elaborated, "Physical Education is different in a Heroics school. Instead of basic exercise, you'll be put in slightly dangerous situations and terrain that test your speed, strength, and stamina." He received many groans. "It's only the second day, so I'll go a bit easy on you."

Uneasiness filled Honenuki's stomach. Although he had a fairly good physique, an obstacle course sounded terrible. If it was just a simple jog, you wouldn't find him complaining.

"Can we do laps instead?" someone called out.

"If you're going to become a hero, you can't take the easy road. And even if you could, I wouldn't let you." Kan gestured to the obstacle course. "All of you are required to complete the course, through the rock formations and rushing river."

A girl—Honenuki thought her name was Kendo, the giant hand girl—raised her hand, and when picked upon, she asked, "Is quirk usage allowed?"

Kan replied, "Yes. You will all be ranked from one to twenty, so this will be a competitive activity. You may also cooperate with your classmates to score higher."

Honenuki inwardly sighed. While his quirk allowed him to hinder others, there weren't any mobile advantages. Also, there was a fair number of his classmates that could avoid his quicksand. He didn't want to get a low placing.

A boy with a headband raised his hand. "Will there be any consequences for the student who places last?"

"No, no," Kan laughed. "I did say I would go easy on you all, unlike a certain coworker of mine."

Looking out to the obstacle course, Honenuki studied the towering rock formations and listened to the distant rushing water. Were they expected to swim? In cold, icy waters?

As the class walked up to the starting line, someone familiar caught Honenuki's eye.

A short brown-haired boy. If he remembered right, his name was Sawada, a student who placed tenth on the entrance exam. Honenuki recalled seeing a blurry figure zipping through the entrance exam, orange flames bursting at its palms.

This could work.

"Hey," Honenuki started, padding over to him.

Sawada turned, wide eyes and a gaze darting straight to his irregular teeth. "Uh... hi? Do you need something?"

Honenuki scratched the back of his head. "I was wondering if you wanted to team up?" he asked.

"...Sure?" Sawada agreed, fiddling with his hands. "Um... I'm Sawada Tsunayoshi." He dipped his head.

"Honenuki Juzo," he introduced, returning the slight bow. "You can use your fire as rockets, right?"

Sawada nodded with hesitation. "Yes. Isn't that the reason you wanted to team up with me?"

Oh. "Well... yes. My quirk is Softening, which means I can soften materials to quicksand and such," he explained. "I thought I could use it to hinder our classmates as you pull me along. I didn't mean to imply that I want to, umm..." he drifted off, gaze darting away.

"Use me?" Sawada finished, tilting his head.

"Yeah."

Sawada's blank face melted into a warm smiling one. He chuckled, patting him on the arm, "It's okay. I wouldn't have minded."

"I don't think that's a particularly good t—"

"Ready, set," Kan yelled from the sidelines before sprinting off across the spectator's zone, "go!"

All of his classmates rushed off, quirks sparking to life.

And when Honenuki turned to Sawada, orange spilled into brown eyes, and palms flared alight with fire. "Grab on to my ankle!" Sawada shouted, a sense of calmness settling into the atmosphere..

Honenuki, straight away, followed Sawada's instructions, and before getting a chance to prepare himself, they took off from the ground. He managed to hold back a scream from escaping past his teeth. Thank god he didn't eat lunch.

Despite their slight delay, Sawada, with unfathomable speed and total reign of the air, soared straight up the rock formations, passing many of their classmates.

Wind in their hair.

Wind past their ears.

Honenuki never knew flying was so cool.

Breaking away from his daze and realizing they were almost at the very top of the first rock formation, Honenuki hollered, "Drop close enough to the rocks so I can touch it! It's time for Part Two of the plan!"

"Got it!" Sawada replied as he descended.

When the ground came into contact with Honenuki's fingers, it became mush—quicksand. His classmates groaned and bellowed at him from where they were climbing. It was music to his ears.

"That's illegal!"

"You're playing dirty!"

"Bring me with you!"

Honenuki shot back a toothy smile as he exclaimed, "Sorry! I don't like losing!"

Soon, they zipped past Shiozaki, who looked just as surprised as the rest of their classmates.

Over the rushing river and past many more rock formations, Honenuki found something kind blooming in his chest, and through the deafening gale, he called out, "You can call me Juzo!"

And Sawada replied with a voice that told Honenuki he was smiling, "All my friends call me Tsuna!"

("They don't call you fire boi?"

"If you ever call me that again, I will end you.")

Needless to say, they won the race.

Chapter Text

(Ghosts by his ears; maggots in his veins.)

He reached out his hand—perhaps made of glass and the such—to the silent lake, and the moment he blinked, a storm spun in from the sky.

From swirling clouds, a void tore up reality. Pitch black and moving shadows.

Sickness boiled beneath his skin—skin turning ever paler.

(Worms in his stomach; parasites in his brain.)

It's spring. Yet sunlight came as withered, and Tsuna—a boy woven of disasters and catastrophes to come, woke in cold fear.

"Do you think Shoichi and Spanner are figuring out a way to bring us back?" Tsuna asked out of the blue, scribbling down on his paper. He took a bite of his lunch.

"I'd hope so," Takeshi laughed softly, swinging his legs out of the window. The wind through his hair lulled him like a midnight melody. "If they aren't, then, well..." He snickered. "I'd probably have to start considering who my real friends are."

Tsuna scrunched his eyebrows and opened his mouth before Takeshi cut in with, "I'm kidding!"

Stifling a chuckle, Tsuna glanced back at his textbook before writing something down. "What about me?"

"Hmm?" Takeshi hummed.

"Am I your real friend?"

"You?" Takeshi perked an eyebrow before shooting him a grin. He winked as he loosened his shoulders. "Of course. You're the safe zone."

Laughter caught in his throat. Warmth curled into his stomach before Tsuna backtracked. "D'you think it'd take this long, though? For them to find and bring us back?"

Tsuna must've looked more worried than he wanted to seem by how Takeshi's gaze shifted into another gear. "I'm here. You're not alone, y'know."

"I know," Tsuna replied. "And I'm glad." He tried to smile, but it came out stiff.

"We're talking about different dimensions and stuff." The continuous unsettled look on Tsuna's face gave birth to a sick swirl of unease in Takeshi's chest. "Don't worry about it. We traveled to the future and came back in one piece, didn't we?"

"Yeah, we did." Tsuna nodded.

Takeshi's gaze stilled on the side of his head. "We'll go home. Promise."

Tsuna's response was a faint hum.

The warning bell rang throughout the school, but Takeshi didn't seem to hear it. Tsuna was afraid Takeshi would fall out the window, asleep.

Tsuna asked, "Hero training?" He packed his lunch and put away his pencil case.

Takeshi swung one leg up to rest his arm on, his head rested on the window frame. "Hmm?" he mumbled. Sleep kept his eyelids closed.

"You have hero training next block, right?" Tsuna swung his backpack over his shoulders.

(Ghosts. Maggots.)

Yawning, Takeshi nodded before grumbling, "Think so. Why?"

(Worms. Parasites.)

"Be careful, okay?"

Tsuna blinked and Takeshi's meeting his gaze. He took a breath. Tsuna continued, "Be safe." Tension boiled in his bones, and the strictness in his voice stood clear.

Reborn would be proud.

A grin slipped onto Takeshi's face. "I will," he replied, chuckling. "I promise I'll be careful. I'm not as reckless as Gokudera I'll have you know."

Tsuna had his word, and he smiled, even if he couldn't help but feel like Takeshi'd break it.

There were snakes. Coiled up in the pits of his stomach. Aizawa didn't know why they were there.

This campus trip sent up many warning flags as the battle trial activity report already had Midoriya critically injured.

Maybe one of his students would blow up a side of the USJ facility. Maybe one would accidentally chuck a classmate outside the glass. Maybe there'd be a chemical explosion and then they'd all die. He hoped he wouldn't jinx it. Kids were trouble enough.

His train of thought came to a stop as the training facility faded into view. He stood up and walked over to stand by the bus door. The previous buzz of conversations behind him kindled until it reached his ears like clear water.

"We're here," he called out, voice devoid of liveliness. "Stop messing around."

"Yes, sir!" his class chirped. They followed with rustling bags and cheerful remarks.

God, Aizawa thought, resting his hand on the back on his neck, They're like a bunch of social pigeons.

They exited the bus and Aizawa led them over to Thirteen. He went on auto-pilot from then on. The introduction and instructions were a boring blur compared to the creepy, missing void of nothingness at the back of his head. He felt a shiver coming on. The deafening squeals over Thirteen and the rescue training center broke him out of his trance.

Aizawa stifled a yawn when Thirteen glanced toward him. "All right then," he said, looking at his students. "First—"

He didn't have their attention for long.

From the far ceiling, the lights crackled like thunder. They burnt out; the sun stared. The students went silent, and the previously bustling excitement? It split.

Right. Down. The middle.

(And was replaced with something cold.)

Aizawa swung his head around, and from below the descent of stairs, in the center of the facility, a dark hole tore apart the very air. An endless shadow. A void's opened jaw.

"What's that?" someone asked, but it's white noise to his ears.

"Don't move!" escaped past his lips—cold, calculating—and so did the fate-sealing words, "Those are villains." He jinxed it. As he put on his goggles, his students held their breaths in unison. Under his capture weapon, he muttered, "The trespassing incident the other day was the work of these bastards after all, huh?"

Yaoyorozu asked, "Teacher, what about the trespasser sensors?"

"We have them of course. However..." Thirteen started, the uncertainty between the lines.

"Did they only appear here? Or around the school?" Todoroki asked. "Either way, if the sensors are not responding, it means they have someone with a quirk that can disable them."

"Thirteen," Aizawa called, keeping his voice steady. If he started showing hopelessness, his students would too. Well, even more so. "Start the evacuation. Try contacting the school. The villains foiled the sensors. It's possible someone with a radio-wave like quirk is interfering." He directed Kaminari to attempt communication with outside authority.

Aizawa readied himself for chaos.

He's expecting someone to speak out. To tell him how difficult it would be to fight off this many villains. To tell him a different plan with different consequences. Maybe Iida, Yaoyorzu, Midoriya. He's prepared to answer with their safety as the first priority. Prepared to say he's the one who could buy the time for the escape.

But no one spoke out.

(There's a gap in the script. A path diverged.

And in the very corners of his mind, he knew it.)

He peered over his shoulders. Panic was what he anticipated. Horror was what he expected. Wide eyes. Shaking hands. Trembling lips. A bunch of young kids that had never seen the real world up close.

Flames gleamed and wavered, reflected on the cover of his goggles. His gaze met blue fire, calming in their wake—in their stir and in their call. Yamamoto's necklace was alight and his mouth was alight with a grin.

Aizawa observed his students' faces. Fear was there, yet mild. Controllable. The panic? It was like it was never there in the first place.

Aizawa forgot. Yamamoto's quirk didn't only have advantages in combat, but in psychological areas too. Aizawa looked to his feet and found the floor cloaked in heatless flames.

And without a single fear-struck thought, Aizawa spun on his heel, lunged forward and down he went—down to uncertain fate and luck. His capture gear unraveled. His black hair caught the wind.

Takeshi's smiling. He's comforting his friends. He brought solace to hearts about to burst out of their cage.

But he's terrified.

(And not just for himself.)

Mediocre. Small fries, Aizawa thought as with a swing of his leg, he knocked a man unconscious. His active quirk pulsed, like the very blood in his veins. His capture weapon stirred before snapping out and colliding the bodies of two villains. Aizawa didn't even have to think.

His fighting experience of many years stayed seared into his skin—built into his body. And it stayed dormant beneath his teaching career. It woke up. Twitched and uncovered itself in a flurry of attacks. Skill and instinct inscribed on his bones in the form of a thousand scars.

He dove beneath a punch. Twisted on his heel, and kicked out the jaw of another villain.

Next, his blood thrummed.

A bulky guy—probably with a mutation quirk—charged at him. Instinct took over. He slipped past a war cry and punch, flowed around the villain's attack until he turned around only to receive a kick to the throat. A hitched broken breath came as music to his ears.

Another, chanted a voice.

A body fell past him.

He bent around a flying rock, hooked it with his capture weapon and sent it back to the assailant. Distant ringing buzzed endlessly in his ears. He brushed it off as wasps.

Another body.

Limp.

Still.

Broken bones and gasping breaths.

Aizawa's tired. The floor swayed beneath his feet, but he's only getting started.

The villains burst at him in ragged waves. He wasted no time slamming them across the concrete and kicking at their throats and breaking their delicate bones.

Pain seared across his eyes. Where the fuck were his eyedrops?

He dodged past three flying knives. They flew right past his goggles, and when he saw his reflection in them, he almost smiled.

Aizawa leaped into the air, capture weapon curling and crushing. Painful yelps and curses filled his ears.

He couldn't keep his eyes open any longer. And so when he risked a brief blink, something sick coiled like cockroaches in his stomach. Fuck, he cursed to himself.

Aizawa shouldn't have looked. Should've focused on his task of taking as many as these fuckers down, but he couldn't. He glanced at his students, only for drums to blast within a bloodcurdling rhythm.

By his students, that same black hole spread open its jaws in front of them. Beside them. Behind them.

It swallowed them up.

One.

By.

One.

(Screams. The fear dripping from them pushed him closer to death.)

He couldn't yell out. Couldn't reach them.

Someone kicked him in the ribs and concrete met his back. It wasn't even a second before Aizawa launched himself to his feet and at the dead-men-walking.

Did Kaminari manage to contact the school? Aizawa could only hope for reinforcements.

Aizawa grunted as a villain sent him tumbling across the ground. Pain reigned his spine, but he pushed. He pushed and got back up again. And he looked back up. Back to where his students were.

Saw him there; Yamamoto, right in the corner of his eye. Aizawa's stomach dropped as another black hole widened open its jaws right behind him.

Fury painted his face.

There's a twisted terror on the boy's face Aizawa couldn't see clearly. But it's agonizingly real. It didn't feel real but it was. Yamamoto always stood tall in the face of danger. Swam in it like someone who's found their calling. Aizawa knew that much.

Here? It's different. Not because of the difference in danger. Something else.

Aizawa couldn't contemplate what it was, not while Yamamoto was being pulled through the portal, achingly slow. The villains were teasing him.

All Aizawa could do was watch.

Inside his rib cage, there sailed a ship in a storm's rage.

He's seeing Yamamoto tugged, yanked, dragged backward, but before the void could even swallow him up and dispose of him who knows where—

Pink smoked swallowed him up instead.

He's restless. An ache in his bones. Stone-filled lungs.

Tsuna tapped his pencil against his desk, gaze drawn to his swaying feet. He wondered what Takeshi was doing in hero training. He hoped it was something fun. And not—

(Withered sunlight struck down in anything but kindness.)

"Sawada, are you listening?"

Tsuna blinked away his sleepiness and broke off his train of thought. He looked up from his desk, pencil freezing in hand. "Huh?"

Kan tilted his head. There was no hostility or irritation in his shoulders, Tsuna observed. He was glad he didn't have Aizawa as a teacher since Takeshi told him about his attempt at napping and his failed attempt at napping.

Kan noted, a textbook in hand, "You were drifting off, more than usual anyway." Tsuna flushed, pursing his lips. "Is there something wrong?"

Yes, there was. The world fastened. And maybe time did too. The sun at its peak, yet dusk's shadows by his shoulders. "Um... I'm not feeling well. May I go to the nurse's office?" he asked.

Kan paused for a moment before nodding. "Take your bag. Feel free to go home if you don't feel any better, alright? A hero must learn that they must take care of themselves and not just others."

"Thank you, I will." His heart pounded in his chest.

(Maggots. There were maggots squirming beneath his skin.)

Instead of waiting for him, Kan continued the lesson. Thank the gods. Tsuna wouldn't be able to leave the class in such a suffocating silence. He closed the door behind him and the sigh he exhaled was of relief. Too stiff, and too closed in, that classroom.

Tsuna began walking down the hall leisurely before it struck him that he didn't have one clue where the nurse's office was. "Oh crap," he muttered underneath his breath. "Well, I guess I don't need to go."

He'll just wander.

If Tsuna didn't get a chance to see U.A.'s actual size on the first day of school, he got it now. He dawdled the halls, climbed a few stairways, and when a teacher caught him in the act, he asked where the bathroom was.

A routine from Namimori. Well, an old routine anyway. Reborn'd never let him skip while he was around.

Many floors, this school had. Empty classrooms too. He pushed open the door of one of them, breathing heavy from the heavy labor. He's gotten rusty without Reborn's training regimes. He's sort of glad yet... not.

(Tsuna missed him. His mentor. Even if Reborn put him through hell and back, twelve times over.)

Tsuna peeked his head into the classroom and strolled right in. The chalkboard from the front was clean and sleek. The desks were too. His fingers brushed across their surface when he walked by.

He pulled out a chair by the window and sat down.

Drifting off, Tsuna wondered about his family back home. Wondered if his mom was okay and not lonely. Wondered how Hayato was doing and if he was going crazy yet. Wondered about Chrome, Lambo, Ryohei, Mukuro, Kyoya.

Tsuna loved them as much as he missed them. Which was... a lot.

He heard something. Muffled. A whisper of a butterfly. Tsuna turned his head to the window, and a speeding figure hooked his gaze. There was yelling, from what Tsuna heard.

It was familiar. The voice.

Tsuna leaned closer to the window; his reflection kept blocking his view. He tried to unlock the window and succeeded with a bit of struggle. He leaned his head out, the wind blowing past his ears. He squinted. "Isn't that Iida?"

It was. Bursting down the campus road, with thigh engines almost gaining a red glow, Iida approached the U.A. building. And the closer he came, the more Tsuna could register the utter fear leaking in his voice.

Tsuna's knew what kind of person Iida was. After their first meeting, they talked a few times between blocks and lunch. Iida never panicked. Not without a clear reason. The way Iida's voice was breaking, the way his voice felt like nails to chalkboards, it sent horror throughout Tsuna's limbs.

(His intuition molded into a spider. Weaved threads around and around and around his throat, until he could no longer breathe.)

He could only think of one thing.

Where is Takeshi?

Tsuna couldn't take a step back. Couldn't call for attention. Couldn't call for aid. Not with how the very floor slipped out from beneath him as eerily—familiar pink smoke yanked him under.

Chapter Text

Without getting a chance to breathe before the smoke dwindled away, there were arms around him. A glop of red hair—familiar red hair in his face. The smell of oil filled his nose.

And escaping his lips was, "Shoichi?"

"Tsuna!" Shoichi cried out from relief. The way Shoichi held him, Tsuna would call him more distraught than glad to see him. Shoichi withdrew, hands leaving his shoulders and tears down his face. "Thank you, thank you! Gokudera was going to—he was... he was literally going to—"

"Hayato was going to what?" Tsuna asked, unsure if he wanted to know what Hayato was up to.

Shoichi tackled him with a hug again. "He was going to kill us! Really kill us! His flame output was going off the charts the last time he checked our progress in finding you guys!" He paused. "Well, you specifically. But he was going to make sure we never saw the sun again!"

Tsuna suppressed a sigh. That was something Hayato would say. "Now that I'm back, I'll try to not let that happen," Tsuna reassured. Shoichi let go of him. He took in the familiar lab of theirs, a gentle curl of nostalgia sinking into his bones.

He's grounded. It was a great feeling.

Spanner, who was leaning against his desk, caught Tsuna's eye—and so did the ten-year bazooka replication sitting innocently on his desk.

"Hey Spanner," Tsuna greeted. He said as he scratched the back of his head, "Thanks for finding us. Thought we might've been stuck there forever."

Spanner nodded, a lollipop sticking out his mouth. "Glad to have you here in time for our funeral," he said.

"Was Hayato causing you guys this much stress? Shoichi, please don't cry. I promise I won't let him... harm you any more than you've already been harmed."

"We appreciate it," Spanner replied.

Tsuna looked around the room, intuition poking him. An epiphany struck him. "Um... Spanner?"

"Yeah?"

"Where's... Takeshi?"

"Oh."

"Oh?"

"Oh," Spanner repeated, meeting his gaze steadily. He turned around and started typing into his computer. "Forgot about him."

Tsuna grabbed the sides of his head, yanking his hair. "What!?"

"Whoops."

"Oh my god," Tsuna whispered. "Can you get him back? Or is he all alone over there? Does he even know where I—"

Spanner peered over his shoulder, the corner of his lips turning up. "I'm kidding. You were easier to locate because of your micro-chip. That's why we got you first."

"My micro-chip. Oh yeah, my micro-ch—wait, what do you mean because of micro-chip. I have a micr—"

"Kidding. The replication just needs a bit of charge-up time before we can bring him back," Spanner said. Tsuna didn't believe him. Spanner typed into his keyboard and Tsuna watched as a green bar loaded up across the screen. "He's coming through right..."

The replicated bazooka spat out a cloud of pink smoke into existence in the middle of the lab.

"...Now."

Coughing filled the silence.

Once the smoke cleared, Takeshi stood, dressed in his hero outfit and his sword steeled in his hand. His Vongola necklace emitted flames. As Takeshi scanned the room, he met Tsuna's gaze, his sword immediately shimmering into its bamboo form.

Takeshi raced forward, clasping onto Tsuna's arms. Hollow eyes, he had. They're more gray than gold.

"Takeshi?" Tsuna's eyebrows knitted. Concern lined his voice as he asked, "What's—"

"Tsuna, there's some really bad stuff going on," Takeshi panted, and only then could Tsuna see the tension in his shoulders. "Tsuna, I need to go back there, please."

Tsuna's hand reached up to curl around Takeshi's neck. His heartbeat pulsed frantically. Tsuna's fingers came alight with fire. "Breathe, Takeshi. You need to tell me what's happening before I can help you."

Rain flames curled around his own. "Sorry, sorry," Takeshi murmured. His gaze sharpened once more, but they gained focus, purpose. Pools of clear water. "My friends are being attacked by villains. We were supposed to do this rescue exercise thing and they just appeared out of a portal! Before I got here, we were all being separated."

There's a lump in Tsuna's throat. "And you want to help them."

"I want to help them."

Tsuna searched Takeshi's face, seeing color return to cheeks and eyes.

A shuddering breath spilled from his lips. Tsuna knew his family was here. In this world. The neighborhood he grew up in was here. In this world. Everything's he's ever known was here—right here beneath his feet. But Takeshi was distressed, rain flames singing the songs of drowned dread and sailors.

The choice came easy. "Okay," he said. "We'll help them, okay?"

Takeshi looked genuinely surprised. "We?" And when Tsuna smiled softly, all-knowing and supportive, Takeshi smiled back, letting his hands fall to his sides.

Tsuna spun around to Shoichi.

"We can send you there again," Shoichi started, adjusting his glasses. "But—"

"But we need to move fast," Spanner cut in, line of sight drawn to the floor in thought. "We need to know one thing. How long did you spend over there?"

Tsuna bit his lip, stammering, "Maybe four months?"

"Over here, it's been about two weeks."

"Two weeks!?" sputtered Tsuna.

Takeshi chuckled, "Whoa. How does that work?"

Spanner was already sitting down, fingers rapidly typing into his keyboard. The wires connected to the ten-year bazooka came to life, different colors and all. Shoichi walked over to his own computer. "Time isn't the same here and there," Spanner explained as different tabs of codes popped up.

"It's been maybe two minutes. Over there, we'd be lucky if only five minutes passed," Shoichi elaborated.

Tsuna asked, "Once we're done with everything, how would you know when to bring us back again?"

"We wouldn't," Spanner replied bluntly. "We're pretty sure communication devices won't function between different realities."

Tsuna glanced down at his hands before something made him stand taller. "Even though it's kinda random, it's for sure time is faster over there, right? By quite a lot?"

Shoichi and Spanner exchanged a look before the former confirmed, "Yes. You said four months. Your answer verified that."

Tsuna held his chin, gears turning. "Thirty minutes then."

"Thirty... minutes?" Shoichi echoed slowly.

Tsuna nodded. "Give us thirty minutes to help Takeshi's friends." He added, "Don't worry. I did the math in my head."

Spanner pointed out, "You've told me multiple times of your struggles with algebra and mental math."

Flushing, Tsuna argued, "I've been practicing! Off-topic. Thirty minutes, okay?"

"That's plenty of time," Takeshi laughed.

Spanner took out his lollipop after tapping the enter button simultaneously as Shoichi did on his keyboard. "Roger that, Boss."

"Not a boss," Tsuna muttered.

"Y'know," Takeshi looked at Tsuna, flames still uneasy, less like tranquility and more like insecurity. "You don't have to come with me." The way his eyes caught the light made something ugly curl into Tsuna's stomach.

Tsuna almost laughed. "You're my friend. Course I have to." And without a pause, Tsuna stepped forward and reached out with his arms, curling them around Takeshi's waist. Takeshi's breath hitched. There wasn't a moment's notice before strong arms hugged him back. A face buried itself in his neck.

Takeshi murmured, soft puffs against Tsuna's hair, "Hey, Tsuna. You can get to the training place really really fast, right?"

Tsuna said softly into Takeshi's chest, relieved of how his heartbeat was gaining a soft thrum, " I thought I was the fastest person you know."

He got a kind laugh in response and a, "You better go zoom if you wanna keep that title."

Tsuna closed his eyes. His fire thrummed against falling rain as a pulse of tamed heat furled around their bones. "Then"—the winding engine of the bazooka buzzed behind their ears—"let's go back."

He's probably had worse, Aizawa told himself. It twisted his right arm by the elbow. All. The. Way. Around. He's had worse, he thought as something warm trickled down his face and arm. Wasn't sure. Couldn't feel anything but pain.

That thing—the ringleader called it Noumu—on his back held him down with its weight.

He couldn't outright scream. There were children watching. If he died, he'd rather not scar them more than he already had.

When he attempted to use his quirk, eyes flashing red and black hair floating, the only response he received was his left elbow being crushed underneath the Noumu's hand.

Aizawa bit his lip to keep himself from screaming out in agony.

The ringleader was saying something, but Aizawa heard none of it. Didn't want to.

Aizawa's train of thought kept going.

There were close to no options. He couldn't break through the Noumu's brute strength. It would probably break his spine if he came close to escaping. He could buy time. Let himself be picked and torn apart for help to arrive. Aizawa had no clue whether Kaminari managed to contact outside authority or if one of his students managed to slip through and get help.

He's on his own, he said to himself. And if it's his life for his students, well, then so be it.

The Noumu clawed into his head, pressing its fingers into his skull seemingly with the intention of crushing him.

And then there it was again.

That wave of tranquility.

The blood in his eyes made him see red, but the fire continued to soak everything in its glistening blue.

"Hey, big bird!"

Yamamoto, quicker than he should've been, dashed to the Noumu, and Aizawa, with fear coiling in his stomach, tried to call out. No sound came up from his lips. No sound even registered in his lungs.

Yamamoto chose this moment to kick the Noumu right in the chest. With the tranquility factor, it couldn't respond fast enough. It tumbled off Aizawa. But, it remained on its feet.

Without the Noumu acting as a bodyguard and with Yamamoto acting as a distraction, Midoriya leaped out of the water and launched himself at the ringleader. His eyes were wide with fear. His lips trembled too. Yet he pulled back his fist, power igniting like a chain reaction in his arm.

Kurogiri couldn't respond fast enough.

Midoriya sent his fist out, colliding with the ringleader's face. A sound of a crunch echoed through the air before the villain was sent flying across the floor, a glove falling off his face. The villain couldn't recover fast enough to direct the Noumu. A perfect opening. Yamamoto swung Aizawa's arms over his shoulders as gently as possible, and through the blood, Aizawa made eye contact with Kurogiri.

There's a ringing in his ears but past it, he heard Yamamoto murmur, "Don't worry. I'll get you outta here."

Kurogiri was on the brink of making fog gates when the front entrance of USJ rumbled as something collided against it. All eyes snapped to it. A spark of relief came bustling in Aizawa's chest as the doors burst open with a bang, a puff of dust filling the air. And stepping through the cloud came All Might.

Another perfect opening.

"Midoriya! Asui!" Yamamoto called urgently. "Run!"

Kurogiri, gaze somewhere else for the time being, didn't realize Midoriya and Asui were running until they were halfway gone.

"You're kinda heavy," Yamamoto commented, racing toward the bottom of the stairs. Aizawa saw the corner of his lip turn up in a smile. "More help's on the way. Tsuna's super dependable, you know?"

Aizawa didn't know. Why would another student come and—

"I've never seen All Might in action. But Midoriya always talks about how strong he is, and I believe him," Yamamoto reassured.

And Aizawa wondered. He wondered how a young kid like him could be laughing. Smiling. Unafraid.

A calmness washed over him, and flames lapped at his skin. Consciousness left him as fast as the pain did.

A dark hole opened up in their way. Takeshi slipped aside out of its grasp, a jolt of excitement running down his spine. He heard Midoriya and Asui running behind him, trying their best to avoid the fog gates. He wasn't worried.

Takeshi peered behind his shoulder and watched the rain flames keeping the Noumu in check continue to ebb away at an alarming rate. He turned and came to a complete stop, standing face-to-face with a dozen villains. He whistled. "This is bad."

A gale of wind.

A flicker of gold.

It dashed through the villains, sending them sprawling across the floor, unconscious. All Might came to stand right in front of Takeshi.

"All Might!" Midoriya exclaimed, both in relief and admiration.

"Everyone," All Might addressed, his eyes narrowed. "Get to the entrance. And quickly."

Asui replied, "Ribbit."

Takeshi grinned and Midoriya's eyebrows scrunched, his lips pursing and his hands fidgeting. Midoriya started, "But All Might, you—"

"Do not worry! It's fine," All Might responded with a wide grin. "It will all be fine because I am here! Take Aizawa and group at the entrance. More help will arrive soon. Stay safe till then."

Takeshi chirped, "Understood! Let's go, Midoriya, Asui."

Although reluctant, Midoriya nodded. As they rushed away, they kept peeking over their shoulders.

Without another second, All Might darted toward the Noumu, a heavy pressure building upon the atmosphere and bringing it crashing down.

The ringleader placed his fallen glove on his face after a bloodcurdling smile knitted itself into his lips. "Noumu!" he bellowed.

And the Noumu burst forward to meet All Might.

First thing Takeshi noted:

The Noumu was taller.

It launched a punch, and All Might, pulling back his fist, dived to the side, dodging the attack and delivering one of his own, nailing it right in the stomach.

Didn't even wince.

It turned to the side, a hand sailing down.

All Might slipped past. Drew back his hand, clenched his fist and struck it right in the jaw. Again. And again.

The only response he got was a blank roar. The air didn't seem anymore breathable than space. Its hand lashed out. When it missed, it lunged. All Might leaped away.

And he engaged again.

Sending punch after punch.

After punch.

"It doesn't work because of its shock absorption," Takeshi heard the villain say. "In order to cause damage to the Noumu, it would be most effective to slowly gouge its flesh."

All Might's in front of the Noumu. In a blink, he's right behind him, yanking it by the waist and backward into the concrete. An explosion of debris concealed them both.

Takeshi whistled. "Those are some cool wrestling moves he's got there."

"He's amazing," Asui commented, a finger on her chin.

Takeshi glanced to Midoriya, expecting him to be glowing, but he's not. Instead, he's pale. Shaking eyes and clenched fists.

The dust cleared, and amazement melted to horror.

A fog gate had opened beneath All Might's feet, and instead of the Noumu's head being crushed into the floor, the upper half of its body was in the gate, rounding up and under All Might's back.

It sank its claws into All Might's side, and from here, Takeshi could see red staining his shirt.

"Hey, Midoriya."

Midoriya looked to Takeshi. "Yeah?"

"Can you carry Aizawa-sensei the rest of the way?"

Midoriya asked even if he already knew the answer, "Where are you going then?"

Takeshi patted him on the head as he transferred Aizawa to Midoriya with Asui's help. "It's pretty unfair when that thing has the purple guy on his side. Someone's gotta help out All Might."

"But—"

"And you look pretty worried yourself," Takeshi pointed out. His eyes gained a mischievous glint.

Midoriya sputtered, holding on tight to Aizawa to make sure his teacher didn't fall off his back, "You can't go down there! It's too dangerous!"

"Midoriya's right. You can't," Aizawa spoke up.

"Aizawa-sensei!" Midoriya almost dropped him. "You're awake!"

Aizawa replied bluntly, "I was trying to die but my students are quite the loudmouths."

Takeshi laughed, taking his bamboo sword from his bag. "Sorry about that. Don't worry, you don't have to deal with me after this."

"No, I won't," Aizawa said. "Because if you take another step down there, after this is all over, there will be consequences."

"And there'll be consequences if I don't help out the big guy over there," Takeshi chuckled. "Someone's gotta do something."

Aizawa snapped, his head cranking to glare at Takeshi, "And that someone is not you." Pain shot up his spine. "You are a student. All Might is a licensed pro hero with more experience you could probably get in a lifetime. Right now, you don't even have any. It is not your job to—"

Takeshi didn't look like he was particularly listening.

Midoriya and Asui exchanged concerned looks.

"Yamamoto, are you listening to me?"

"Yeah, I'm a student and I'm not a pro hero," Takeshi agreed. "I know that. But the only thing you're kinda wrong about is how much experience I have. I've done a lot of dangerous things, y'know."

Aizawa narrowed his eyes. "Your vigilante work does not count."

"Who said anything about vigilante work?" With a whistle, his bamboo sword cut through the air, its wood melting away and what came anew was a blade of steel.

"Yamamoto, do not go down there." Your life is not expendable. "If you think for one second I'm joking around, I swear I will—"

"Expel me?" Takeshi finished, a chuckle escaping from his lips. His blade rested on his shoulder. "I'm not gonna be here long enough for you to do that."

From the skies, it rained shattered glass, fire bursting from familiar blue.

Takeshi rolled his shoulders as blue fire consumed his very blade. His necklace surged with energy. "Can't believe you let an old man beat you here, Tsuna!"

And Tsuna shouted from above, a glow reaching his face, "In my defense, he's a really fast old man who got a head start!"

Midoriya gave Asui Aizawa to carry. In the corner of his eye, he saw Kacchan. Todoroki too.

And so he breathed in.

And so he took his ticket back.

The second thing he saw was the huge creature at the center of the facility.

Danger.

(Cockroaches squirmed in the pit of his stomach.)

A shuddering breath fell from dry lips. Tsuna pursed them while watching All Might struggle to escape the grip of that monster, and even from here, he could feel the amount of power and presence the man had.

"Takeshi!" he hollered.

Takeshi looked up.

"Don't fight that thing! Use your fla—quirk to provide support! I saw Iida on his way with help, so I'll try to help out your classmates in the meantime!"

"Roger!" Takeshi replied. "Why not fight that purple dude and hand guy?"

Tsuna gestured his head to Midroiya, Todoroki, and Bakugo who were approaching Takeshi, sporting different kinds of expressions but having the same vibe of wanting to jump into battle. "They look like they want to fight. And we're here to rescue. Not to necessarily fight."

"Oh! Got it!"

"See you in a sec!" Tsuna replied.

"See ya!" Takeshi said before turning and running straight into the chaos.

Tsuna took off in another direction, his intuition yanking him to a certain rescue sight, a dome with a patterned roof. He didn't have a good feeling about this. At all.

Tsuna grumbled, "Do this for him."

The entrance was closed, and something told him it was locked and would stay locked. Tsuna instead focused his flames into his fist and dove down into the roof. He prepared for impact before he tore a hole straight through it.

He ended up putting too much power in his booster because, by the time he noticed he was face-to-face with a sidewalk, he was already tumbling forward with a sore forehead. His flames receded.

"Ow, ow," Tsuna groaned. He stood up. Rubbing his forehead, he looked around to take in an abandoned neighborhood. There were old gray buildings with no source of light, apart from his manmade hole in the ceiling. He's soaking, he realized. Above, sprinklers constantly sent off water, and wind and snow machines were going off like mad.

He bit his lip as a shiver struck his entire body. Shaking himself off, he broke out in a run, following the now gentle hum of his intuition. "Scary," Tsuna cried as he continued on deeper into the dome, the light from the ceiling slowly growing farther and farther away.

Tsuna turned down a corner, and before he could react, he crashed into someone. He fell down on his bum with a yelp. He glanced up and met the gaze of a man wearing a paper mask.

"Found ya," the man rasped, voice like nails on chalkboards. Tsuna could tell he was smiling. The man spread out his hands and sheets of different origami came flying at him. They were not hindered by the heavy rain and snow.

"Hiie!" Tsuna shrieked as he scrambled to his feet, breaking into a sprint the other way. "Why did I sign up for this, why did I sign up for this," he whimpered frantically under his breath.

There's water splattering on his face. Snow too. The floor was more slippery than before, and his feet easily gave way. He tumbled, sliding across the concrete until he toppled over again. On his face. Again. He flipped himself over so he could at least meet his face. He really shouldn't have.

The masked man lunged at him, origami flying by his side like disposable missiles. They probably were missiles. Chilling laughter rang through the air; shudders slid down Tsuna's spine.

A shadow hand erupted from behind the man, dark and merciless claws seizing the man's head and ramming him into the alley wall.

The warning bells of his intuition simmered.

Tsuna swallowed his scream.

From behind the fallen villain, stood two boys. One had a face resembling a rock and the other had the head of a crow.

Tsuna rubbed his eyes. You know. Just to make sure he didn't hit his head too hard.

"Are you alright?" the crow boy asked, his shadow hand retreating to his cape.

Tsuna tried standing up. "U-um, yes! Thank you for—"

(Ghosts.)

The click of a gun.

"Look out!" Tsuna shouted, tackling the two boys to the ground.

A gunshot rang out.

Another villain.

Reborn's taught you this. Reborn's taught you this. He's literally built this into my skin.

Tsuna pushed himself to his feet, and lunged at the villain, eyes bleeding into orange. The villain, flinching at his recovery speed, took a step back, stumbling. He was shaking. He raised the gun to align the muzzle with Tsuna's forehead.

His first mistake was his hesitation.

His second mistake.

Tsuna's not afraid of guns.

(Not really.)

Tsuna saw the slight movement on the trigger, and before the man could tug it, Tsuna evaded to the side, letting the bullet fly by his head. A speck of pain throbbed in his ear; the bullet nicked him. He paid no mind.

Tsuna's small; a flicker to the human eye. He reached up to the gun, grabbed the barrel and pushed up and through, dashing past the man and snatching the gun when the villain's thumb popped loose. Didn't yet take a breath. Didn't yet brush off the threat. Without a pause for the villain to recover, Tsuna kicked his heel into the back of the villain's knee, sending the guy stumbling forward with a gasp.

The crow boy's shadow struck out like lightning, clawing into the man's head and slamming it into the concrete.

Multiple times.

Tsuna's eyes drifted into brown as he turned around to face them. "Thanks for saving me."

"Likewise," the crow boy replied.

"It's hard to recall, but I think Takeshi said..." Tsuna began, hand resting on his nape, "You're Tokoyami. And... you're Koda. Did I get that right?"

Koda nodded as Tokoyami answered, "Yes."

"I'm Tsuna." He smiled before sneezing, crossing his arms and shivering. "Well, I'm your trip out of here. All Might arrived, and so will more teachers. Ready to go?" Before they could respond, Tsuna added, "Because I am freezing and I wanna leave. Can we go, please?"

All Might launched a flurry of punches at the Noumu, all connecting. Takeshi, agile like a paper airplane, slashed across the Noumu with his sword alight with blue. With his tranquility slowing down the Noumu, All Might had a greater advantage. Takeshi strayed on the side. It helped that he could apply his flames without making direct contact.

The only downside was how fast the Noumu kept shaking off the flames, like it was growing accustomed to his so-called quirk.

The ringleader shrieked, clenching his hands into fists, "Kurogiri! That kid. So annoying. Unfair! Unfair!"

"Very," Kurogiri agreed. Takeshi couldn't hear what the fog villain said next, but the grin that came onto the ringleader's face was nothing to feel happy about.

Leaping away from All Might, Takeshi braced his sword, gaze glued onto the ringleader and his companion. The floor swayed under his feet. He watched as Kurogiri stirred up a portal and how the ringleader turned to reach his hand inside of it.

There's a lump in his throat.

Midoriya cried out, "Yamamoto, behi—"

Takeshi went still.

Fingers tickled against his skull, and so when Takeshi, heartbeat racing and all, turned, he came face-to-face with a lone-moving hand being encased in ice.

Bakugo lunged forward and aimed his explosions at the frozen hand. "Die!" he roared as it shattered, the hand withdrawing from the portal as the ringleader screamed, voice high and hollow. The villain cradled his left hand as he bit his lip.

Takeshi smelled it.

Burning flesh.

Takeshi laughed nervously, "That could've gone so wrong." He waved to Todoroki and Bakugo, smiling simultaneously as he exclaimed, "Thanks, guys!"

Todoroki nodded.

"Didn't do it for you," Bakugo sneered.

"That's okay, Fireworks. As long as we get the bad guys, right?"

Todoroki exhaled a puff of cold air. "While All Might decimates that creature of yours, we'll take you on." His narrowing gaze burned holes into the villains.

"Scary," Takeshi said with a grin.

Underneath the glove, the ringleader's eyes gained a red gleam. "Oh? The little children think they're so strong."

"Yamamoto?" Midoriya whispered.

Takeshi looked over to him, answering, "What's up?"

From where he stood, Takeshi could see the gears in Midoriya's eyes, winding and combusting and building themselves up again. Midoriya's trembling. "Do you think," Midoriya started asking, sweat falling down his neck, "you can keep using your quirk to slow down the Noumu? It shakes it off pretty quick, but if you could help All Might, just a little—"

"'Course I can." Takeshi grinned, gripping tighter on his sword as his fire pulsed in sync with his heartbeat. "I'm a great multi-tasker."

"But don't—"

"Get too close?" Takeshi finished. Amusement lined his face. "I've only known you for a while, but you really do remind me of Tsuna."

Midoriya asked, "Is—is that a compliment?"

The Noumu's slowness was at the end of its reign when Takeshi started running, voice ringing through the air. "The best!"

Todoroki began the assault off with flurries of ice, jagged peaks and spiked icicles. Bakugo flew around with explosions going off constantly in his palms as he attempted to get close and blow some crap up, but Kurogiri kept creating portals as defense mechanisms. Midoriya attempted too, but he reached the same problems as Bakugo. Takeshi bounced between helping All Might to his classmates.

Even though they couldn't really touch the ringleader, it was okay. They were partly distracting them so the villains couldn't aide the already powerful Noumu in any way.

All Might was close to beating him. Takeshi could tell as he watched the pro hero hurl dozens of punches before he could even think to blink. Takeshi grinned in awe.

The rain flames were fading again. Takeshi readied his sword once again, but before he could take a step forward, fog gates, two wide ones, opened on either side of him, cutting him off from both his classmates and All Might.

(One second.)

Straight ahead, he saw the ringleader's hand in a portal again. Takeshi looked around him. He didn't see the villain's hand. He's not the target.

The rain flames would've faded by now, which meant—

(Two seconds.)

In the narrow-made hallway, the Noumu skidded into his line of sight, soulless eyes staring into the emptiness. Takeshi steadied his sword.

(Three.)

With Takeshi being in All Might's blindspot, the hero couldn't save him now. He's on his own.

One of the things Takeshi prided himself most in was being well-rounded physically. But faced with such a creature, monstrous strength and an unbreakable defense, Takeshi could only watch as the Noumu leaped toward him, the ringleader's voice ringing out like clear water:

(Four.)

"How about we injure your pride a little bit, huh, All Might?"

(Five.)

There's a burst of fire in the corner of his eye.

Tsuna carried Tokoyami and Koda to the USJ entrance; he picked up another classmate named Ojiro on the way back. They were heavy, to say the least. More heroes are coming, he said as he dropped them off on the ground.

He's about to land too.

It hit him again.

(A snake continued to eat him from the inside-out.)

Tsuna looked down to the center of the facility, and the Noumu caught Tsuna's gaze. It was clashing with All Might, blue flames scattered on its body. They were fading fast.

Takeshi, ready to dash into the fight, drew back his sword to drown the Noumu in another wave of tranquility.

He didn't even get to take a step.

Two fog gates tore apart the air on both of Takeshi's sides, blocking out help from his classmates and All Might.

A portal opened in front of All Might, a hand reaching out.

The Noumu changed targets.

Tsuna's eyes widened in epiphany.

(One second.)

No, no.

(Two seconds)

Tsuna's hands poured out fire. There's uncontrollable heat spiraling in his ribs. Burning lava and iron-hot sears Tsuna never thought he'd be capable of.

(Three.)

He's fast enough. Tsuna's sure of it as he came into a dive, his Vongola gear thrashing out.

(Four.)

He's fast enough to get to Takeshi. Fast enough to get him out of the way.

(Five.)

But he wasn't fast enough to—

(Six.)

Sky flames brushed against his own rain, and the bloodcurdling cry bubbling up in his throat never got the chance to leave his lips.

When he shoved Takeshi to the side, Tsuna met his golden eyes.

(Seven.)

Tsuna couldn't bring himself to look remotely sorry.

Didn't even know he hit the floor. Didn't even know he wasn't breathing until his lungs cried out from the pain, not while he watched as with the creature's sailing punch, full of muscle and thoughtless strength and sharpened claws, Tsuna's—

—body

—crashed across the cold concrete.

(Drums in his ears. Water in his lungs. Blood on his hands.)

It was his idea to come back.

Past a fading vision, the beautiful blooming red in Takeshi's chest, a color never a shade away from his gentle blue, was too fierce to call a simple fire.

Chapter Text

A deafening silence sealed Takeshi's ears. He didn't know when he got to his feet or if Noumu planned on hurting more than just one of his friends, but he's scrambling to Tsuna the second he hit the pavement. His cluttered mind pushed away the absence of the warp gates and the wide eyes of All Might and his classmates.

The world's quiet. There was laughing. Someone's laughing hysterically, drums were pounding beneath the dirt, and earthquakes were shaking the very earth. But the world's quiet. Too fucking quiet. And Takeshi couldn't bring himself to catch his friends' gazes, let alone All Might's.

His katana clattered to the floor, steel morphing to bamboo, the icy echo of it breaking through his clogged hearing. Takeshi knelt. Listened to the ragged breaths falling from Tsuna's lips, his mangled arm twisted into thirteen angles and one.

"Tsuna," Takeshi whispered, voice a little high strung. He patted Tsuna's cheek. "You okay?"

Tell me you're okay.

He received no answer.

There's a want for fear curdling in his stomach, yet the rain flames lining his ribs refused to let the feeling swell.

Be the rain, be the rain, it said.

"Hey, hey. Wake up, Tsuna." He didn't mean to make it out like a plead. "You didn't fall asleep didya?" The laugh leaving his mouth was fractured and he's rambling. "You shouldn't sleep in y'kn—"

A hand swiped up at him, and Takeshi leaned to the side to avoid it. "Mah, mah," he started, words soft because he didn't trust his voice to be normal. "No need for violence, Tsuna. There's been enough of that today." The tension in his shoulders rolled out like the evening low tide, and he found his lips twitching up into a relieved smile.

Tsuna's eyes opened and Takeshi murmured with warm eyes, "Morning, sleeping beauty."

"Takeshi?"

"Hmm?"

Tsuna burst out crying. "Oh my god, please don't tell Reborn I let my arm get shattered by a giant pigeon in an alternate dimension."

Takeshi processed it before reassuring, mirth in the twitch of his lips, "I won't. Promise. You look like you need some ice on that arm though."

Shooting a weak glare, Tsuna admitted, "I'd hit you if I could."

"Try," Takeshi encouraged, straightening. "I'll sit completely still this time."

"Yamamoto! Tsuna!"

Takeshi looked to the side and found his classmates rushing—okay, well maybe just Midoriya because... Bakugou and Todoroki—over to them.

Midoriya sputtered out, worry coloring his face, "Tsuna, are you okay? Can you move? It's not safe for you to be here."

Tsuna inhaled a shuddering breath. "I'd yes to both of those questions but then I'd be lying."

"How does it feel, All Might?" the ringleader cackled, spreading out his arms. There's a giddy smile on his face behind the glove. "To have a student hurt under your supervision with you just a little beyond reach. What do you think, Kurogiri?"

"Incompetency was your fault," Kurogiri said, offering no more insight.

The ringleader rambled on. "That flying kid wasn't exactly the one Noumu was targeting, but"—something sinister and dry twisted his voice—"I bet the Noumu broke a few important bones here and there."

Takeshi peered at All Might, noting the way the man's shoulders tensed, straightened, and relaxed. A smooth transition like fresh ice melting to water.

"What?" the ringleader taunted, his white hair parting by the cracks to reveal the hunger of a crimson gaze. "Not gonna say anything?"

All Might took in a deep breath before he began, "What you've done today, to both my friends and students, is unforgivable."

Takeshi remembered Aizawa, underneath the merciless grip of the Noumu. It crushed his arm. Twisted the other one by the elbow until it went round and round. There's a faint gunshot ringing in his ears the moment he recalled Tsuna's crashing body like it was a sound from a distant dream. Then there's everyone else. The rest of his class. Yanked—dragged into cruel reality and terrorism for the first time and not knowing what to do.

Some might be injured. Dead for all Takeshi knew.

"So cool!" the villain exclaimed. "So what are you gonna do about it?"

All MIght stood, like an unassuming autumn river with the riptides right beneath the surface. "I will take you down today," he said.

And a sense of understanding unfurling in Takeshi's chest. He looked at All Might once and saw a Sun. Or, well, he saw Ryōhei. Blinding enthusiasm and the need to protect the weak, fists and bravery, wrapped into one messy bundle. He changed his mind.

Instead of bright summer days, he saw the sunshowers of early April.

"Noumu!" the ringleader called, and the Noumu came calling.

Anticipation lined Takeshi's bones and drums echoed in his ears. Excitement boiled in his stomach.

"You're gonna jump back in there, right?"

Takeshi tilted his head, fingers carding through Tsuna's brown curls as he asked, "You want me to?"

Tsuna quirked his eyebrow. "Whether I asked or not, the answer's yes."

"And how'd you know that?"

"Oh, I dunno. Just a hunch."

Takeshi laughed, and Tsuna tried to too, except the moment he did, soreness struck down his chest and it was more like a wheeze than a laugh. Takeshi only laughed harder. It distracted them from the fact Tsuna's arm was rapidly turning purple.

"You think All Might would let us fight with him again?" Takeshi asked.

Tsuna replied with a wince, "Definitely a no-no. But I think he'll have his hands full enough with that pigeon to stop you guys. Just—try not to end up like me."

Chuckling, Takeshi patted Tsuna's undamaged shoulder. "We'll try our best."

Todoroki took a few steps closer. "I could ice his arm to reduce the swelling if you'd let me."

"Great idea!" Takeshi exclaimed. He slipped his hand under Tsuna's head, adding, "And I could use my flames to ease the pain a bit. Sound good to you, Tsuna?"

Tsuna's eyes watered. "Sounds great," he hissed through his lips as the shock faded from his body and was replaced by pain.

Todoroki knelt. He reached his arm out, breath becoming visible as frost coated his skin. He got to work. Takeshi too.

And for the next second, Takeshi glanced up to find two bodies hurtling past him, a gust of wind blowing against his hair.

The series of punches All Might carried forward held a different kind of force than before. Before, his fuel was his desire to protect. It still was. But now, along with that fuel, fury-spun threads lined his every move, and Takeshi saw how they colored his punches and steps and the way he breathed.

"If your quirk isn't shock nullification but shock absorption, then there's a limit to it, right?" All Might's voice echoed.

The air shifted and altered itself, splintering like the pieces of a puzzle falling apart. All Might and the Noumu met punch with punch.

Through the awe, Takeshi knew he should get a move on.

"Time to go," Takeshi sighed, setting down Tsuna's head and settling on patting it. "You good lying over here?"

Tsuna grumbled but it's seen as a pout, "It's not like I could leave."

"Mah, I'm pretty sure you could stand if you wanted to, " Takeshi mused aloud. He smiled as he leaned down to briefly press his lips against Tsuna's forehead. "Stay safe! And stay still!"

Takeshi stood, and Todoroki rose with him. Picking up his bamboo katana from the floor, he tossed it back and forth before swinging it. A whistle cleaved through the sound of fighting, and bamboo twisted into shining steel.

"He's gaining ground," everyone heard Midoriya whisper. All Might and the Noumu were blurs of indigo and gold, and Takeshi wondered how Midoriya's eyes could keep up.

Todoroki, although his gaze kept darting to the fight, broke away and rested his attention on the ringleader and the villain Kurogiri. Ice continued to grow on his side. "How will w—'

Bakugou moved first. To the un-surprise of everyone. He launched himself forward with a scream.

And while it's impulsive, he's quick about it.

Bombs went off in his palms, and he rushed at the villains as he bellowed, eyes sharpened like the edge of a blade, "Come at me, asshats!"

With a wave of his arm, Kurogiri conjured a portal and Bakugou narrowly dodged it by the skin of his teeth by darting to the side. Smoke filled the air. Bakugou disappeared behind its cover. Todoroki, narrowed eyes and frosted air, curled a wall of ice around and through the villains, splitting them apart and cutting off the ringleader's way out.

A heartbeat later, emerging through the smoke, Bakugou appeared in front of the ringleader's face, hands ablaze. "Die!" A crack split the air, and the ringleader stumbled against the ice. Takeshi's already there.

Takeshi's katana came swinging.

The only thing saving the ringleader's head from being sliced clean off was the portal opening underneath him. The villains teleported outside of the ice cage. Todoroki threw up his hand and a tunnel of ice flew at them as Midoriya dashed to their rear with his fist pulled back.

A portal opened in front and behind the villains, allowing the ice to enter through one portal and out through the other, redirecting it at Midoriya. The latter flipped to the side to avoid the torrent of ice. His broken fingers, pulled against his chest, landed hard against the cement.

The ringleader groaned from the burns along his skin, the frost on his back. "Cheaters... you cheaters!" he bellowed, scratching at his neck until he drew blood. "What to do, what to do. What about I reduce their numbers a bit," the ringleader laughed, and his scratching ceased. "Watching your friends crumble right in front of you... such a tragedy, it would be."

Takeshi went rigid.

"Lucky that scenario only happens in fiction, right?"

And then the ringleader's behind Bakugou. Fingers reached out.

One of Bakugou's neck. Two, four, five. A hoarse scream tore out from Bakugou's lungs, and when the fingers closed tighter and tighter around his throat, skin peeling and dissolving from his very touch, Bakugou reached up and an explosion rocked the air.

The ringleader stepped back right before getting a mouthful of smoke, simultaneously evading a rush of ice by stepping into another gate.

Except, Midoriya's quick-witted, and he's already at the other portal's side.

The ringleader emerged from the gate, and the instant he did, Midoriya socked him in the face.

A shockwave erupted, the ringing boom muting the crunch of ringleader's nose.

Takeshi's seen Midoriya's quirk in action. A second ago, he was staring at his broken purple fingers, wondering if Midoriya could ever find a way to help others without hurting himself in the progress. He's ready to grab him and go, but when the dust cleared, Midoriya's arm appeared fine. Undamaged.

Midoriya's wide eyes mirrored Takeshi's surprise.

With blood dripping down his chin, the ringleader retreated into a warp gate.

"Kacchan, are you okay!?" Midoriya exclaimed, rushing to his side. From his view, Bakugou's skin layers had decayed to the point of muscle. Crimson dribbled briskly from his wound.

Bakugou hissed through clenched teeth, "Fuck."

Takeshi didn't get a chance to feel.

Two fog gates opened up on either side of him, pale fingers reaching out from both to meet vulnerable skin.

Takeshi grinned (and it's strained no matter how you looked at it) as one of the hands were encased in ice. "Won't be that easy, sorry!" Takeshi beamed, grabbing the other hand by the back of his wrist.

The ringleader tried to yank his hand out, but Takeshi's gotta have one hell of a grip to swing his baseball bat three hundred kilometers per hour.

"Kurogiri, close it!"

"Close it if you wanna lose your hand," Takeshi dared.

The ringleader's gaze bled. "You—"

"Excuse me!"

Midoriya yelped, stumbling to his feet, "Yamamoto, what are you—"

Making sure to keep the villain's arm in place, Takeshi pushed the wrist to the very edge of the portal and dove straight into the abyss. "Coming through!"

And a second later, Takeshi emerged out of the other end to come face-to-face with the ringleader. The time measured a blink. The smile he wore was white teeth and all, lined with chilling frost and a silent calm. His blade, engulfed with rain flames, drew up.

Kurogiri gestured his arm out but Midoriya, who was there in a single blink, launched himself at the villain. Kurogiri took a step back. Todoroki's ice slammed forth, capturing Kurogiri's form by his tangible limbs as Bakugou bombarded him without mercy.

"Home!" Takeshi gripped his sword, and gold eyes met red. The calm he's always had dissolved, and what came anew, spinning faster and faster to give way, was a blazing fury. Takeshi struck forward, flames illuminating the wrath painting his very smile. "Run!"

Frustration curdled in Shigaraki's veins. Why were these stupid ass children interfering? He hated them. Hated them. They were supposed to be fodder, the useless weaklings of a quest you could beat with your eyes closed.

The blue flame kid's in his face. There's a calmness in his eyes, something Shigaraki had never seen before. Yet in a blink later, it came barreling with a current of bloodlust that made his body still in place.

Red eyes met gold. Gold, they're supposed to be, but Shigaraki could only see the hatred muffling the color. He almost wanted to feel smug. Say a couple of things.

"Couldn't protect your friend, huh?"

"So weak you had to be pushed out of the way."

The kid swung onward with his blade following up.

He imagined blood. A lot of it. Like, in those horror movies he'd always see on the television during Halloween. They were exaggerations, of course. He'd tortured people himself and he couldn't get to the point of that much blood.

The sword met his side. He expected red, the red the color of his eyes.

Instead, accompanied by a pound of agony, the sound of breaking bones filled his ears.

(One last thing.)

There's ice encasing his body, and the taste of defeat was bitter on his tongue.

("What kind of coward uses the back of their blade?")

All Might's wrapping up. A flurry of attacks, a mere blur to the naked eye, battered the Noumu whose shock absorption stopped working a long time ago. The floor cracked and broke off parts beneath their battle.

Midoriya blinked and the Noumu's suddenly numb thirty feet up in the air. All Might followed with a leap, taking its arm, spinning, and swinging the mindless beast into the cement, shattering the earth below with a single impact.

All Might landed, a gleam catching his eye. The fury had worn itself out. "Hey villain," Midoriya heard him say, and a breath of awe spilled into his chest, "have you ever heard these words? Go beyond!"

A weight settled on the atmosphere. Not settled, but slammed down. All Might's fist withdrew, and Midoriya could sense the amount of power, built up from generations and generations ago, gathering in his one limb.

"Plus"—fist met chest, and with a heat measuring twelve thousand stars flared alight, the Noumu hurtled straight up and out of the building with the burst of glass—"Ultra!"

A shockwave shot through Midoriya, causing him to stumble and regain his footing. He covered his face with his arms and peeked through. "All Might!" he yelled, but he's sure the commotion silenced him.

All Might's standing there, still. His chin tilted up and his shoulders fell as smoke billowed out from his body and Midoriya knew what that meant. He watched with wide eyes. There's a thunderstorm going off in his ears and faintly behind it, a clock was ticking down.

Someone would see.

Someone would see and All Might's secret would be out.

"All Mig—"

A wall of cement shot up from the ground, cutting Midoriya and the others off from All Might. Midoriya looked to the side and melted in his spot. "Oh my god, it's Cementoss!" he exclaimed under his breath. He hadn't noticed, but pro heroes were rushing out from the front gate. He spotted some of his classmates being escorted from the various rescue spots.

Cementoss met his gaze. Then his eyes darted down to Midoriya's mangled fingers. "Please meet at the front entrance. Recovery Girl will oversee all injuries."

Midoriya started, unsure, "But—"

"We'll take care of the rest," Cementoss reassured. "You've done well."

A sense of pride swirled in his stomach and he took a breath in. He held his broken fingers in his other hand while glancing back at the captured villains with knitted eyebrows.

The ringleader writhed in the ice bindings as pro heroes approached him with proper handcuffs. He spat at the heroes, "Father will take care of you all!"

Todoroki padded up to Midoriya. "Let's go. You need to get your fingers tended to."

"Yeah," Midoriya murmured.

Yamamoto jogged up to them as they walked. "Nice teamwork we had there! Don't ya think?"

Midoriya bit out a smile. "Yeah! What were you even thinking when you jumped into the portal?" he asked, bewildered.

"Dunno," Yamamoto admitted with a grin. "It was so long ago I forgot."

Todoroki asked, "What happened to your friend?"

Yamamoto replied, slipping his bamboo sword into its rightful bag, "The heroes took him to Recovery Girl. He's pretty messed up, but he's had worse before. I think." The smile of his face twitched.

Midoriya glanced down to Yamamoto's hands. Calloused, they were. There's tension in his arms, Midoriya noted, and there's something rotten curling around his happy eyes. "Are you feeling okay, Yamamoto?"

Yamamoto blinked at him. "Why wouldn't I be? That was a super fun fight!"

Midoriya pursed his lips. "Well, it's just... you seemed angry. Before." And a little bit now, Midoriya added but didn't say aloud.

"Oh!" Yamamoto chuckled, ruffling Midoriya's hair before starting, "I was. I was angry. But not anymore! I used all that anger up already."

Midoriya never lost his gentle look. He reassured softly, "If you want to talk, I'm here. I know we're not that close but—"

"Thanks, Midoriya." Yamamoto's grin dropped and was replaced with something sweeter. A thread of nostalgia—or familiarity, Midoriya couldn't tell—weaved the golden color of his eyes. "You're a good friend." And in that still moment in time, Yamamoto looked at him. Really looked, and Midoriya was under the scrutinization of the world.

And then Yamamoto said, "You're very popular with the ladies, aren't you?"

Midoriya flushed red. "No, no—"

A Sky, Takeshi thought. A Sky without a doubt.

Chapter Text

Following the direction of the heroes, he and all his classmates were escorted out of the building before being briefly checked over by a medical team to fish out the injured.

Midoriya caught Bakugou getting fussed over by a bunch of medics because of how the skin layers of his neck were nonexistent and Midoriya wondered how much pain he was in. The medics hurriedly rushed Bakugou into a car to be sent to the nurse's office.

Yamamoto patted him on the back, "Bakugou'll be fine. He's a pretty tough guy, isn't he?"

"The toughest," Midoriya sighed.

"How are you holding up?" Yamamoto asked.

Midoriya laughed nervously. "I think I'm still in shock with adrenaline and all that, y'know." He eyed his purple fingers.

"That doesn't mean your body's condition isn't worsening by the second," Todoroki pointed out.

Midoriya debated, "I suppose so."

"Hey!" Yamamoto spoke up, pointing to the side. "There's Tsuna!"

Midoriya turned to the side and saw Tsuna on a gurney being loaded into a car.

Yamamoto said, "I'm gonna see if we can ride with him. You need to get those fingers checked out."

Nodding, Midoriya replied, "I really do. They're probably going to do a headcount so I'll inform Iida about it before we go."

Yamamoto shot him a thumbs up before he went running up to Tsuna. "Sounds good!"

Midoriya jogged up to Iida who was currently conversing with a police officer. "Hey, Iida! I hope I'm not intruding!"

The police officer reassured, "Not at all."

Iida turned to him, relief lighting up his face. "Midoriya! I'm glad to see you're alright. What do you need?"

Midoriya smiled. "Umm, I kind of broke my fingers again, so I'm going to ride with Yamamoto and Tsuna to the nurse's office. I figured you're going to do a headcount so..."

"Thank you for telling us," the police officer replied. "Three people then?"

"Yes."

"May I ask why Sawada was here?" Iida asked.

Midoriya opened his mouth to reply but couldn't find an answer. Why was he here? "I... don't actually know. He came out of nowhere."

"I see," Iida said, crossing his arms.

The police officer hustled, "Go on now. Those fingers look like they need treatment."

"I'll go do that," Midoriya replied before striding to the first aid car and climbing in. The medic who was monitoring Tsuna closed the door after him. The engine started and the car drove off.

"Exciting day, wasn't it?" Yamamoto exclaimed, propping his arms on Tsuna's gurney.

Midoriya blinked before nervously confessing, "I wouldn't call it exciting."

"What he said," Tsuna mumbled.

Yamamoto perked up, poking Tsuna's cheek. "Hey, you're awake!"

"My body isn't in shock anymore," Tsuna grumbled as he swiped away Yamamoto's hand, "so I'm in a bit of pain right now."

"Want some help with that?"

Tsuna nodded.

Midoriya asked, curiosity sparking in his eyes, "You know first aid?"

Yamamoto chuckled, fanning his hand. "No, no. Definitely not. Wish I did though." His necklace and hands gained a blue flame. "Just my quirk. It's basically numbing gel!" He looked to the medic. "Is that alright?"

The medic nodded after a moment of consideration.

Yamamoto resumed coating Tsuna's mangled arm with fire. "I could use it on you," Yamamoto offered once he finished.

Midoriya was going to decline out of politeness, but the pain throbbed and the thought of his quirk notebook flickered in his mind. "Yes, please."

Yamamoto gestured for his hand, and Midoriya gave it.

Reaching out with his own, Yamamoto's flames covered his fingers, and a chilling frost shifted through his skin. The pain eased. "It's almost like an ice pack," Midoriya noted. "If you train your quirk enough, could you potentially nullify all pain? Like an extremely strong numbing gel? Or a strong sedation or a bunch of painkillers? Perhaps you could knock someone out... A quirk like that could be useful as a first responder to a crisis and—" As he ran out of breath, he glanced up to find Yamamoto's eyes curled in amusement. "Ah, sorry, sorry. Rambling. Please ignore me."

"Don't worry about it. It's super cool to see someone so excited about quirks, " Yamamoto heartened, a smile dawning his lips, "You have some great ideas and it'd be really cool if I could knock someone out with my flames instead of my baseball bat."

Midoriya's eyes widened. He blinked. Baseball bat—

"I need to train more!" Yamamoto decided.

"You train enough as is," Tsuna mumbled. "Don't overdo it."

"Are you thinking of being a rescue hero? Or anything similar to that occupation?" Midoriya couldn't help asking.

Yamamoto laughed, shaking his head. "No, no. That'd be awesome but we'll be leaving soon. So unless someone can hero knight us real quick..."

"Leaving?" Midoriya echoed. "Wha—"

The car came to a stop and the medic opened the doors and began rolling Tsuna out of the car and into the U.A. building. "I'll be transporting you two to the nurse's office," he informed Midoriya and Tsuna. He turned to Yamamoto. "There's an ongoing investigation. It'd be best if you return to your classroom. All your guardians will be contacted and told to come to pick you up at a later time."

"Okay!" Yamamoto chirped, stepping down out of the ambulance. He ruffled Tsuna's hair. "I'll see you in a bit." Midoriya followed the medic, and once they parted ways with Yamamoto, turning down a different hallway, he looked back to watch him go. Heard his whistling ricochet across the walls and saw the way he walked with a bounce.

Leaving? Are they transferring schools? Moving maybe?

(Blue flames and the peaceful whisper trailing behind.

And fire the color of the sun, ever shining bright, forever mending together the many pieces of somethings.)

Where are you going?

He didn't want to open his eyes. There's light on his face and wind through a window. Flames pulsed by his own, and a body was slowly pushing him off the bed while hogging most of the blanket.

"Takeshi, get off me," Tsuna snapped halfheartedly as the arm slung across his chest shifted.

He didn't.

"Takeshi."

There was hair tickling his collarbone. "Lemme rest a bit."

"Fine," Tsuna said. A pause before, "Okay now get off me."

And then, "What are we going to do about our parents?"

Tsuna opened his eyes, meeting gold ones. "Our parents."

Takeshi propped his head up with his elbows. His legs swung back and forth. "The ones that adopted us when we didn't know where to go. Those parents. We're not just gonna leave without saying goodbye, are we?"

A pang of shame struck through Tsuna's chest, and although Recovery Girl had healed him of all injuries, there was that faint ghost of pain. "No, we can't.

A pause.

"How long have I been sleeping?" Tsuna asked, sitting up and forcing Takeshi to sit up with him. Tsuna glanced outside the window to see the sun falling.

Takeshi yawned. "About four hours. About time to go."

Oh.

"They have to question all of us, so my class is still here," Takeshi explained. "And your healing took lots of energy outta you so that's why you took such a long nap." Takeshi collapsed once more just to snuggle up in Tsuna's side.

Tsuna grumbled, "Takeshi, stop drooling on my clothes."

A knock echoed through the room.

Tsuna pushed Takeshi off the bed, and he hit the floor with a thump. "Come in!"

Opening the door, Midoriya's head peeked out. "Sorry for the intrusion. They finished questioning everyone so I just wanted to check up on you guys."

Tsuna smiled. "We're doing fine."

Takeshi popped up from between the two infirmary beds. "Thanks for checking in! How's Bakugou?"

Midoriya replied, scratching the back of his neck, "I only caught him when he left but he looked well."

Through the open door, Recovery Girl walked in. "Oh, another visitor! Midoriya, how are your fingers?"

Midoriya answered, "They're great! Thank you so much."

Recovery Girl smiled. "That's good to hear. Please take better care of yourself. And what about you Sawada? Any pain?"

"No, no," Tsuna said before yawning. "I'm a bit sore and tired though."

"Well, that is to be expected," Recovery Girl reassured. She looked at Midoriya and Takeshi. "Gentlemen, I need to do one last checkup on Sawada. Do you mind waiting outside?"

Midoriya replied easily, "Not at all!"

Takeshi patted Tsuna on the leg. "I'll get our bags! Think you can walk to the front entrance without tripping?"

Tsuna glared, holding back the urge to throw something. "Shoo already," he huffed.

Takeshi laughed, and Midoriya said goodbye as he closed the door behind them.

Recovery Girl walked over to Tsuna's side, telling him, "Please sit at the edge of the bed and show me your arm. I'll try to be quick."

Tsuna did as he was told. Recovery Girl started to unwrap his bandages. He swore there was a timer waiting to go off at any minute.

Tsuna began, "Excuse me, ma'am."

"Hmm?" Recovery Girl prompted, "What is it, dear?"

"Are you close to Mr.Kan and the Principal?" he asked.

She hummed. "Well, I've known them for quite a long time. Sekijiro more so."

"Can you tell them something? And my par—" That wouldn't work. "Can you?"

Recovery Girl asked, "Why not tell them yourself?"

Tsuna spouted out, barely catching his breath, "Takeshi just told me our parents are pulling us out of U.A. immediately. They... they don't think this school is secure or safe enough to look after us properly after what happened today. And I don't think they'll give me a chance to talk to my teachers and say goodbye."

"That's a pity," Recovery Girl murmured, slowing down her movements. "Well, U.A. was lucky to have you two here. It's been a great pleasure. I heard what you did today."

Tsuna straightened, his heart leaping for a second. "W-what I did?"

Recovery Girl laughed fondly. "Flew all the way to the USJ facility to start rescuing other students. Impulsive, aren't you?"

Tsuna flushed. "It was impulsive and I'm sorry. I should've alerted my teachers, b-but Iida was already doing that and Takeshi was—I didn't know if he was okay or hurt and I got scared."

She looked at him, the shape of her eyes curling softly as a smile took hold of her face. "You're a wonderful friend to him. And it's okay to be scared. You were scared but your bravery overcame that." She held onto his arm. "You have the makings of a great hero. Try bending and not breaking the rules though. Nedzu loves to gossip, I'll have you know."

Tsuna smiled hesitantly.

"So," Recovery Girl started, putting the bandages aside, "What do you want me to tell them?"

Tsuna took in a breath. "Can you tell he was—is a great teacher. I've… had teachers who… who weren't so great. And for me to learn under him for such a short while but learn so much, it means a lot."

She nodded.

"And the Principal," Tsuna murmured. "Please tell him we're thankful for him. For showing us this opportunity to learn here and meet so many good people and… and—!" He buried his face in his hands.

"I'll tell them," Recovery Girl reassured. "Rest easy, you hear me, young man?"

A warm flower bloomed inside his chest. "And thank you. Thanks to all of you for being the best kind of people."

Recovery Girl only laughed. "You're being silly. It's part of the job!" She spread open her arms.

"Oh, I—" Tsuna sputtered.

Recovery Girl gave him a stern look. "It's quite rude to refuse a hug to an old lady. Now come here."

"Umm—uh... yes, ma'am."

"You said you're leaving," Midoriya said, and it's not a question. He wished it was.

Yamamoto didn't look at him. Just continued sitting on the bench, chin tilted to the ever-dying sky. "Yep," was all he said.

"Do you mean U.A.?"

"That too."

"The country then?"

"Yeah." Yamamoto glanced at him. Then he smiled. What came over his face was a gleam of all-knowing. "I'm glad we got to know you."

"Is it because of today's incident?" Midoriya asked, eyebrows scrunching. "Is that why your parents are pulling you two out?"

Yamamoto hummed. "It's more like"—the sun sank lower and lower and the red sky turned to purple—"we were never supposed to be here in the first place, y'know?"

Midoriya's hands fumbled. "Can we keep in touch?"

Yamamoto closed his eyes. "I hope we can." He slapped him on the shoulder. "Come on. Don't be mopey. It's been a great couple of weeks—months, hasn't it?"

"It has," Midoriya replied.

The building's door opened and Yamamoto called out, "Hey, Tsuna!"

Tsuna walked over to them, and Midoriya was glad Tsuna's arm looked normal and healthy and not... purple like his fingers were. "Sorry for the wait. Are your parents picking you up, Midoriya?"

"My mom's in the car right now. Yamamoto said you guys are moving, and besides checking up on you guys, I also wanted to say goodbye," Midoriya said.

Yamamoto indiscreetly whispered to Tsuna, eyes kept on Midoriya, "He's being pretty sappy."

Midoriya flushed. He coughed, shaking himself off before reaching out his hand to Tsuna. "I hope we meet again."

Tsuna shook his hand, nodding. "Me too."

When Midoriya turned to Yamamoto, the latter lunged to hug him. "To meet again," Yamamoto exclaimed, chuckling. Midoriya's feet left the ground.

Midoriya frozen, shot a glance at Tsuna, who only looked on with amusement lining his body.

And then, surely but hesitant, Midoriya hugged back.

The last time Midoriya said goodbye to a friend (the only time), it wasn't even a proper goodbye. Kacchan was smoke and heat, and sometimes Midoriya could only get so close. Each step Kacchan took ahead, Midoriya stumbled forward. Their friendship was in shreds by the time Midoriya noticed.

To say goodbye (for the second time only) on good terms was true closure. Midoriya's admired a lot of people. All Might, for his strength and bravery to smile when it seemed impossible. Aizawa, for his determination to protect his students. Iida for his leadership. Uraraka for her dedication and kindness.

And for Yamamoto, the calm without the storm.

Something poked Tsuna in the gut. "Gokudera's gonna kill us—well, gonna kill Takeshi," he muttered.

Midoriya's sight clouded with pink smoke and then he was falling and—

Gokudera breathed out smoke. "Shoichi, put it back."

Midoriya raised a trembling hand. "I'm not an object."

"I-I'm trying—wait, I—" Shoichi started.

"Put it back, Shoichi."

"Just let me—"

"PUT IT BACK!"