Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Hey, Shota, check this out," Naomasa calls across the station as Shota clocks in. It's after dark already.

He grunts in response, not looking, as he's currently undoing a knot that somehow made its way into his scarf. He can hear Naomasa waving a paper in his direction.

"It's a flyer. Apparently there's a new café in the shady part of Mustafu."

"Mm. Might have to stop by. When does it close?" He hands him the flyer. It advertises late hours and fresh ground coffee. " ' Open from 2pm to 2am' ? Sounds like my kind of place. Wanna stop by before I start?"

"No, man, some of us have regular sleep schedules. Let me know if it's good, though."

"Whatever. See you," Shota replies, and heads out the door. Some of that area is in his jurisdiction, so nobody will be too mad if he goes out of his way. He glances back down at the address- actually, looks like it's in his area after all.

Hell yeah.

Not only is it in the worst area in Mustafu, it's the old bar. The old bar, the one that he and Hizashi busted a few years back for all sorts of fun things. Shota thought it was sitting empty, but apparently it's got new owners.

His expectations aren't lowered. In fact, he's a little excited. The sign above the door reads 'Midoriya's Evening Café', and thick blackout curtains are pulled to the side of the full ceiling windows to show off amber lighting and nice wooden tables.

The door jingles as he steps inside, and he's immediately hit with the smell of coffee, cookies, and cinnamon. He does a quick once-over: it's really nice, elegant but cozy. Shota is going to have to gatekeep this place.

The wood floors have been refinished- he can tell because that burn mark left during the raid near the bar isn't there- and the walls have been painted a soothing cream color. The tables and chairs match, and the bar on the right has been turned into the kitchen/counter. It looks amazing, and the best part by far is the smell.

He's definitely hiding this place from Yamada. This atmosphere wouldn't appreciate someone like him.

"Welcome!" A small voice greets from behind. He whips to his left, locking eyes with a red-eyed green-haired little girl. She freezes, obviously scared.

"Sorry," he mutters, scratching the back of his neck. "You surprised me."

She nods with wide eyes. A little girl alone in a café at 9pm? She must be the owner's kid or something like that. He turns back to the bar.

"One moment!" A muffled voice shouts from somewhere near the bar table. The door next to the bar swings open and a kid that looks like a third-year Shota would teach comes rushing though carrying two huge bags of... coffee beans, apparently. He lugs one onto each shoulder- stronger than he looks- and carries them to the back, where he drops them next to what must be the coffee grinder.

"Sorry about that," he sighs, dusting off his shoulders and jogging back into the bar. "Welcome to my evening café, what would you like to order?"

Ah, this must be Midoriya. He's wearing a dark forest green apron with the name of the shop on the front. His shoulder-length curly hair is a darker, slightly cooler shade of green than the girl's. He has tired, but calculating green eyes, which flick between Shota, the girl, and every door and window, wiry scarred arms tensing. It's a familiar habit that Shota knows well, and a habit that a kid like this shouldn't have.

He looks up, ignoring that detail and scanning the menu instead. A few unique drinks jump out at him, including the Deku and Kacchan special, which is coffee with a shot of whiskey and a latte with chili peppers, respectively. He wonders if it's legal for a kid to serve alcoholic drinks, and realizes it definitely isn't.

He orders an oat milk latte, his usual order at another café, so he can gauge how much better/worse the coffee is.

"Good choice," Midoriya responds, taking his cash. "Your name for the order?"

"Aizawa," he replies, moving to lean on the side of the bar with a few stools, "Though I don't see why you need it. Do you get a lot of business this late at night?"

"I get more business than you would think, especially in this area. There's usually at least one person in here, but Wednesdays are slow," the kid replies, amusement in his voice. Shota watches him glide through the process of making the latte, not missing that he didn't answer the other question.

He snorts, "It's the opposite for me."

"Yeah? You must be a hero."

"How'd you know?" Jesus, this guy is perceptive. Maybe he just looks younger than he is.

"Your support scarf-thing," he says, like it's obvious. After silence from Shota, he goes on, "I recognize that material. Type-seven carbon fiber G, right? Stuff's practically indestructible."

"Hm. Keen eye," is all he responds with. He squints his eyes at the kid's turned back. The commission paid millions to develop this fabric specifically designed for hero work. And paid millions more to keep it out of public use.

That was years ago, though, back when he was still in school, so maybe it got leaked. Hopefully that's why.

"Here, sir." A white cup is placed on the bar in front of him, complete with a dark green cardboard-thing to keep his hands from getting hot.

"Thanks." He takes a sip, and holy shit, it's so good. "Wow."

"You've got good taste," Midoriya chuckles, gesturing to the girl, who's sitting at the chair in front of the window, swinging her legs and scribbling in a coloring book. Considering the similar hair, she's probably his little sister or something similar."That's Er- I mean, Seri's favorite drink."

"Hm. Well, thanks for the coffee. You'll probably see me around sometime soon."

"O-oh, thank you, sir!"

Shota huffs, "No problem, kid."

"Call me Izuku. Thanks for stopping by!"

He nods as he steps back outside, sipping pleasantly on his drink. It's seriously good.

Hizashi definitely isn't hearing about this place.

Chapter Text

"-and then he named the exact fiber type of my scarf."

"Isn't that confidential information?" Officer Kiki asks, leaning on Naomasa's desk.

"That's what I thought, too. Apparently it was declassified a few years ago."

"That's not as reassuring as it should be," Naomasa frowns. He looks thoughtful, but doesn't add anything else.

"He's probably just some hero nerd." Kiki grins. "But, hey, at least the coffee was good, right?"

"Mm, it was." Shota hums, placing a paper on his desk. "Well, that's my report from this morning. I've got the UA exams to deal with today."

"Try not to expel your whole class this time!" she calls as he walks towards the exit.

He grunts, already out of the office. He could use some coffee, but Midoriya's café isn't even open until two in the afternoon. It's seven.

Something about that place keeps nagging him. He can't name it, but something deep down feels instinctually wrong. That kid, even if he is older than he looks, can't be older than seventeen. But he just didn't seem like it. Even his voice sounded like a teenager on the younger side.

He thinks back to Midoriya's nervous flitting eyes, wondering how the kid formed that habit. Actually, now that he's thinking about it, what the hell is some kid doing running a place that stays open until two? Doesn't he have school?

Maybe he'll go back after the exams are through. He's great at asking questions without seeming like he's prying.

There's some power shifts going on underground. Izuku knows this, not just because it's been happening for a while, but also because he's been losing contacts slowly, one-by-one like leaves in autumn.

He sighs, leaning on the bar. Eri just turned six. Soon he'll have to start her schooling, and he doesn't need to be dealing with the stress of some small-time villain group disrupting his schedule. He's supposed to be retired.

Maybe it's for the best , he muses as he scrubs a stain in the wood, because he is supposed to be retired. Nobody knows that he- or, rather, his alter ego- is still alive. He made sure of that about six months ago.

He glances towards Eri, who's swinging her feet and writing studiously in her notebook. He promised to take her to the park before work tomorrow.

Yeah, he really needs to get out of his old habits. It's hard to keep himself out of the crowd that he's been a part of for so long, but really, he can't keep doing this. After all, the last time he stuck his nose too far into someone's business, he ended up with a daughter. And the time before that-

Well.

The bell jingling snaps him out of his thoughts, and he tilts his head in the door's direction. Eraserhead pushes through, eyes scanning just like last time. They linger on Eri before turning to him.

"Good to see you back so soon!" Izuku grins. Eri watches the man openly, her character practice abandoned. She's probably curious since he explained that Aizawa was an underground hero last night, she was very interested in the topic.

The man nods, looking up at the menu. Izuku didn't miss how suspicious the man was of him last night, and he prays that he can rein it in today.

"Can I try the... Kacchan special?"

"Coming right up," he says, taking his change. Aizawa moves to sit on the bar side and watch him make it.

"I heard the UA exams were today," Izuku starts, then internally screams as he remembers that Aizawa is not included in the public list of UA staff. Just like yesterday, he's revealing information that he shouldn't know.

Maybe he can frame it as a mistake. "U-um, sorry, I just realized you probably wouldn't know anything about that." He awkwardly smiles, glancing over to see one eyebrow raised suspiciously high. Shit .

"What do you mean?"

C'mon Izuku, if you could bullshit for assholes like Giran every month then you can bullshit for this. "Ah, I lost touch with a friend who wanted to get into UA and was wondering if you would know if he's there. But it's not like every hero in Japan knows the results of the test. So."

Nailed it.

"Yeah, I couldn't tell you," the man agrees. What a liar. "But I figure if they just took the tests today, then they wouldn't have the results already."

"Good point." He sprinkles some chili powder on top of the foam, placing it across from Aizawa. This is awkward.

"Hey, Seri," he calls, turning to face a wide-eyed Eri who is definitely not doing her work. She's kind of just staring at Aizawa. "How much of your work have you finished?"

She turns guiltily back to her notebook, pouting. "Sorry, Papa."

"It's okay," He huffs, moving to clean out the espresso machine. "How far are you?"

"Halfway. I'm sorry."

"It's fine, just try not to get too distracted. Do you wanna go get your headphones?"

She nods, eyes twinkling, and abandons her notebook and iPad to run upstairs. He snorts, fiddling with the machine's handle.

Aizawa observes the interaction like it's some great mystery, eyes flickering between the two. "How old is she?" He eventually asks, sipping his mocha.

"She just turned six. I've been debating whether or not to put her in public school."

"Hm. Why don't you want to?"

"Ehh," he starts wiping down the counter. "She's... been through some stuff. I'm honestly not sure if school will help or hurt her. That, and she struggles with her quirk.

Aizawa hums. "You know, I know someone who does quirk therapy for children. She would probably love to help."

"I- wow, first off, that is so nice," he grins. "I've actually thought about doing something similar. It's just... there's some stuff I'm not totally comfortable with people knowing. At least not yet."

"Hmm. I don't think she would mind missing information, as long as it's nothing that she needs to know for the actual therapy."

"Uhh..." Izuku scratches the back of his neck. "If she's trustworthy then I might be a little more comfortable with giving her details. I just... I don't know."

"I get it. You don't have to, I was just offering."

"Oh, I know! I'll think about it, then. Let you know next time you show up."

Aizawa nods, standing up. "Sounds good."

"Thanks for the offer!" Izuku bows, mind reeling.

"Anytime."

The kid knows that he works at UA. He was definitely bullshitting Shota with those excuses- he's read enough bad essays to be able to tell.

It's not that big of a deal. It's not like it's a well-kept secret. He probably asked because his friend wanted to know if he got in before everyone else, which wouldn't be the first time it's happened. It doesn't help with the sketchiness, though, and Shota now has a short list of suspicious things that the kid knows. It's nothing actually confidential, but still...

Well, at least one thing is cleared up. Of all the things, he didn't consider that Seri was Midoriya's daughter. Now he feels bad, the poor kid probably had to drop out to take care of her.

Sigh , he doesn't need to be responsible for even more teenagers. He's not even started the school year yet and he's already tired of it.

Chapter Text

"What are they doing?" Eri asks as he lays out a blanket in the sun. It's a perfect morning, the gentle spring breeze keeping everything at a perfect temperature. There's a small group of kids around her age kicking a ball around with makeshift goals from school bags.

"Playing soccer," Izuku says, setting down his backpack, although it looks more like they're just trying to kick the ball around. "I bet they'll let you play with them if you ask."

She watches the group of wild kids chase the ball across the grass. He can see her chewing the inside of her cheek. "I don't know how to play."

"They might teach you," he offers. It's better to let her work her feelings out and build up confidence then to offer help right away, he's learned. As much as he wants to help her, she has to learn how to interact with others her age. It's why he's so on the fence about putting her in school.

She seems to set her shoulders and turns to him.

"You want me to come with you?" He doesn't think it's a good idea. He has this weird effect on most kids- they tend to get nervous. Actually, he has that effect on a lot of people. Whatever.

"No. I'm going to ask them."

"Okay. I have snacks if you get hungry." He smiles. "Make sure to tell them your secret-name and not your real one."

He watches her nervously approach the kid that stands in front of the makeshift goals. She says something and points to Izuku, and the boy calls a pause. After what looks like everyone explaining the rules, they start running again, Eri along with them.

He huffs, shaking his head. He leans against his backpack, content to watch her have fun.

As he glances to his right, he realizes with a jolt why this place seems so familiar. This is where Mom used to take him when he was a kid. That's why it seems so familiar.

He turns to look at the old oak tree- yeah, there's the mark from when Katsuki accidentally blew up a dodgeball against the trunk.

It's weird to be in a familiar environment. Or rather, a nostalgic environment. As much as he moved around, he knows west Mustafu like the back of his hand. It's been so long, he's not sure if he knows the central city as much as where he was for the previous three years.

He scoffs, thinking back. The last time he was as this park he must have been, what, eight? Nine?

It feels like it's been decades. Izuku is only fifteen.

He sighs, closing his eyes. Not for the first time, he wonders what life would be like if things had never changed. Would he still be friends with Katsuki? What would middle school have been like? He'd be starting high school in a few weeks if he hadn't forged his diploma. And deleted all medical and legal files on him. Izuku is basically a ghost.

Well, there's no point in focusing on the past. He should focus on keeping Eri's life as normal as he can, all things considered.

Speaking of which, he's considering accepting that offer that Eraserhead gave him last night. As much as he loathes sharing her story with anyone at all, he can't help her with her quirk by himself. Given how powerful it is, it isn't something that can be taken lightly.

As much as that destroys her confidence, if she ever loses control and the wrong people see it, it will be so much worse.

"Nemuri," Shota calls over his speaker. He's finally done with exam results, and he has some free time. He also has around two weeks until school starts, and he wants to test something out.

"What would you like, my belo-oved scarf freak?" She asks, and he wrinkles his nose in response.

"You're thirty years old."

"Whatever. I'm cooler than you."

"Actually, never mind. I'll ask Naomasa instead," he says, knowing it'll get a rise out of her. He lounges on the couch, fiddling with the tv controller.

"Wait-wait-wait- I swear I'll be serious! What?!"

He smirks. Works every time. "How good a judge of character are you?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, if you met someone suspicious, what would you do?"

"That's not much better," she says. "Why? Do you know someone that you think's suspicious?"

"Maybe. He's just a kid, but there's something off."

"Wow, this is really bothering you. Does this have anything to do with the legendary café I've been hearing about?"

"How do you know about that?" He frowns. If she knows, then that means Hizashi will know, and now the poor café will have to deal with his bullshit.

"Kiki told me. Apparently you've been thinking about the suspicious owner for a while?"

"You'll see what I mean. Plus, I kind of advertised your kid therapy thing. He's got a daughter."

"Excuse me? Not that I mind, but you could have asked!"

"Sorry," he says, in the same tone that one might say 'oops' after purposefully spilling coffee on someone because they made you mad. "Anyways, do you want to go sometime tonight? It opened about an hour ago."

"Only if the coffee is a ctually good. Wait, he has a daughter? But I thought you said he's a kid?"

"I feel like you of all people shouldn't be judging."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"I'm just saying that only one of us wears leather straps every day in public," he says, then pulls the phone farther from his ear so her yelling doesn't blow out his eardrums.

"I'll be there around eight," he says into the phone's mic, and hangs up.

That asshole hung up while she was talking! Now she has to go!

Chapter Text

"Midoriya's Evening Café" sits above the door in cute green cursive letters. The clean concrete is stark against the dirty backdrop of the other buildings, but the buildings in immediate vicinity seem to have a few more plant pots and better lights than the last time Nemuri was in the area.

The best way to describe the interior would be 'elegant and cozy'. There's maybe two or three people sitting down, and a green-haired teenager behind the bar. A couple of small wooden tables are lined against the wall, and- oh, that must be the girl Shota was talking about. She's adorable.

"Welcome," the girl says, unblinking. She gives the impression of a scared cat. Her body language is... slightly concerning, but not in any way that has Nemuri reacting.

She elects to ignore it, turning towards the bar area. This place must have been a bar, before. It's definitely more up Shota's alley, both figuratively and literally, because it's within his territory, but still. It's cute.

"Ah, Aizawa-san! Glad to see you back." The teenager, obviously Midoriya, turns to them. He's definitely young, but his build is similar to her friend's, just smaller. He has the eye bags to match, too. All the skin she can see is covered in scars.

"Kid," Shota replies. He's so rude!

His eyes slide to her, flicking up and down (not in the creepy way, more of the 'I'm judging you so hard' way) and to the door. She immediately understands what Aizawa meant by suspicious. This kid can't be older than the ones she teaches, but he's sizing her up like some big-time villain.

"And friend! Welcome, nice to have you." He grins. Sweet. Definitely not as cute as his daughter, though. Something about him puts her on edge.

"Nice to meet you." She says, because Shota really needs to learn some manners. "Hmm... since I've never been here, what would you recommend?"

"Hmm," he shifts on his feet, "Personally, I'd recommend the candy apple sweet tea or the Kacchan special."

"Hm." She reads the menu. Both are very unique drinks, how creative! She's about to order the tea when Shota pipes in, "The Kacchan special is probably too spicy for you."

"Is that right?" She squints. That sounds like a challenge.

"I'll get the oat milk latte," he orders, not even bothering to respond. What an asshole.

"And I'll get the Kacchan special."

Midoriya looks faintly amused. "Coming up."

She moves to sit at a table on the wall when Shota grabs her sweater sleeve- she didn't want to come here in costume- and gives a significant look to the kid's back. Watch him.

So she does. She understands pretty quickly.

He moves with a familiar precision. His movements are light and airy, like a dancer. Or, in her case, an experienced pro. It's odd and very jarring to see in a teenage barista.

Then he picks up the knife to chop some chilis (chilis?), and she flushes when he absentmindedly spins the knife around his wrist and fingers, sending it half a meter into the air and balancing it perfectly on his finger before going right back to normal.

She turns to her partner, who looks back with raised eyebrows. He didn't expect that either, apparently. Slightly concerning.

A few minutes later, he serves them their orders. Shota looks like he wants to say something, but decides against it and heads to the door.

"Thank you," she says, and follows after him.

They walk along the dirty sidewalks, slowly sipping coffee. Nemuri sips a little slower than him, and Shota smirks but doesn't comment on it.

"I get what you mean," she eventually says, sidestepping a person that passes by.

He nods. "I think he's older than he looks." At least, that's what all the signs point to. He must just be short, or possibly have some kind of hormonal disorder. It wouldn't be the first time he's come across something like that.

"If that's it, he's got a serious baby-face."

"Mm. What did you think of the girl?"

She stays silent for a while, coffee neglected. Figures.

"She definitely showed signs of anxiety, although it wasn't toward him at all. She might have a fear of adults."

He stays quiet at that, mind reeling. Maybe he lied about her being his daughter, and they're running from abusive parents. Or maybe he didn't, and he's running from an abusive ex. There's so many scenarios.

"But either way," she starts, licking her lips, "I'll definitely counsel her if he wants."

"I was going to introduce you, but I changed my mind. Maybe come here a few more times so he can see what you're like, and then I'll bring it up again."

"I'll do that if you let me take a sip of your coffee," she grins.

"I told you it would be too spicy."

"You practically challenged me to get it!" She shouts, jerking her drink like she's going to pour it over his jumper.

"It's not my fault you take everything mildly insulting as a challenge."

Chapter Text

Katsuki doesn't like the color red.

It didn't always used to be that way. It actually used to be a color he liked, but now it brings back memories.

He stares at himself in the mirror, tightening the bright red tie around his neck. He should be happy. He should be proud, and he is, but it feels... empty. Like a victory that took everything to get to.

In a way, it did. Just, not the way people would think, he supposes. But the tie is the exact same shade that his shoes were.

So as he grins at his dad and avoids the hag's hand as he slips out the door, as he makes aggressive eye contact with people staring on the bus, as he scuffs his red shoes on the campus entrance, his only thought is 'He should be here.'

He kicks the door open to see only a few other people there as early as him. They all seem annoying and loud, but whatever. He can deal with that.

What he isn't so sure about is the grown ass man on the floor. That can't be the teacher, right?

He hesitates, eyeing the sleeping bag suspiciously. He glances at the kid closest to him, some blue-haired dude with glasses. He's staring back, apparently not noticing floor guy. Katsuki decides that it's not worth his time and looks at the seating chart on the board instead.

He sits down, props his feet up, and pulls one earbud out, ignoring the immediate protests of the glasses guy. Once he's comfortable he pulls out his most recent notebook and starts absently scratching words on the paper.

There's some time to kill and he already has a few design changes  for his next version of the costume.

Shota takes mental notes on the new students during the physical exam. While the exam footage is useful, it can only get him so far in actually judging the student's performance and behavior in the course. And, if he's honest, all of them have serious potential. He got lucky this year, at least mostly.

There are several immediately notable people. The Tenya's youngest is irritating his peers, the brown-haired girl has some bad self-esteem issues, and one of them keeps making creepy comments towards the girls. Shota is keeping an eye on that last one.

But a few stand out.

One girl, Yaoyarozu if he remembers correctly, is incredibly smart. She's got a great advantage with her quirk, too, though her self-confidence is worse than the other girl. That can be worked on.

The other one. Bakugou. He scored first, by a pretty good margin. One of the highest scores in years, actually, but the whole roster this year had a raised average.

Anyways, he is one of the most dedicated students Shota has ever seen. And that's something impressive, when he's taught at UA for this long. When classes dismissed for lunch, he stole a glance at the notebook he left on the desk, which was titled 'Hero Analysis for the Future, No.15'.

He's not exactly friendly, though. He's got one mean mug of a resting face, and Shota hasn't seen him talk to anyone yet, at least not willingly. Plus, the way the kid stares through his soul makes him feel like he's being judged.

And not like judging, not Nemuri-style, more like he's judging Shota's value as a teacher. Like he expects something bad from Shota.

Well, whatever it is, hopefully he's up to his standard, or whatever. This kid seems pretty valuable.

Izuku would have liked this teacher, Katsuki thinks. They're similar.

The way he subtly scans everything reminds him of Izuku. He thinks bitterly back to how he could always feel those eyes on his back, and Katsuki would always get mad. It eventually became a sixth sense of his to feel the piercing cold on his back.

He glances around the lunchroom. For some reason, he keeps expecting to find someone similar to Izuku here. Maybe it's just because he thinks about the nerd all the time.

A few cliques have already begun forming. People finally stopped bothering him after the third time he yelled at them, and thank fuck. The dickriders in middle school made him want to die.

Four eyes from earlier is sitting with the ball-toss girl, and those four idiots in his class have already grouped together in a table. Like he predicted.

The emo kid- not the actually emo one, he's sitting with the punk girl, but the one with the shit half-and-half dye job, is sitting alone too. He doesn't really look like he wants to be here.

Katsuki can't decide if he agrees or if he just doesn't like the school food. 

Chapter Text

"So I've heard about this lovely little place circulating through the precinct?" Hizashi wiggles his fingers, raising an eyebrow. They're both strewn across his sofa, watching the latest episode of some Star Wars spinoff.

"Mm. Is it good?"

"Don't play dumb with me, you rat! I know this is where you've been getting those lattes when you're patrolling in Musutafu!"

"Uh-huh," Shota turns up the volume. Hizashi's seething irritation amuses him to no end. "You're too loud for a place like that."

"I'm perfectly quiet and peaceful," he responds, ignoring Shota's side eye. "And you took Nemuri there. I don't wanna hear anything about my attitude when you took her!"

"You said it, not me-"

"You're actually insufferable."

"-and it's not like I wanted her to know about the place, either." Shota drawls, fiddling with the remote. Hizashi looks scandalized.

"Wh- then why did you take her?!"

"I was investigating something."

"Investigating something."

He reaches for the tv controller, but Hizashi snatches it off the coffee table before he can get it. "No! You can't mention that and not tell me more!"

"Oh my God," Shota groans, tilting his head to the ceiling. "The owner is just kind of sketchy. I wanted a second opinion."

"But you didn't want my opinion?"

"No. I didn't."

"You're such an asshole," he pouts, switching channels. "We're going next patrol."

"Ugh."

"Hey, Eri," Izuku calls as he wipes down the sink. He opens in a little bit, so he's getting the conversation out now. That way he doesn't spend the whole night thinking about it. She hums, looking up from her ipad. "Can we talk for a second?"

"Mmhm!" She pauses whatever she was watching, spinning her chair in a circle.

"So," he struggles to find the words, "Remember, when you turned six, I told you that you were gonna have to do big girl stuff?"

She nods, whispering, "Like chores."

"Exactly." He grins, wringing out the towel and draping it on the faucet. "Well, since you've been doing so good with your reading-" and she really has, he never realized how fast kids learn, "-I want to know if you want to go to school."

"School? With kids and teachers?" At his nod, she furrows her brow, the way she does when she's confused. "But I thought I couldn't go to school. 'Cause my quirk."

" Because of my quirk," he corrects, "And you can't right now, no. But, you know Mr. Aizawa?"

She nods. "He told me that he knows someone who could help you."

"Really? Who?" Her eyes light up.

"Well, I'm not sure," he leaned on the counter as she spun her chair in circles, "But I think it might have been the woman he brought yesterday. She's a hero, too."

"Woah! Who is she?"

He rubbed the back of his neck, humming. "Uhhh, don't worry about it. I'm not too sure anyways." As much as he liked Midnight, her costume was definitely... uh, not something he wanted Eri asking about.

"Woah..." she whispered reverently, ignoring his words. "A hero to help my quirk..."

He laughed, stopping the chair spinning with his hand. "I have to pay her, though, so why don't we run to the bank so I can get some money for her, hmm?"

"Okay!" She nods excitedly, jumping off her barstool and toddling towards the door.

"We gotta go quickly!" He shouts, letting her grasp his legs and arms as she giggles, trying to slow him down.

Izuku pushes through the doors, Eri ducking so she doesn't hit her head on the doorframe. She's sitting on his shoulders, playing with his hair. He thinks she's doing a topknot, but he's not totally sure.

He immediately senses tension as he passes the threshold. Everyone is oddly still and it's even quieter than usual in the lobby.

He flicks his hand down and brings his index finger up to the ceiling, a signal which Eri will recognize. She nods and hops down from his shoulders. He steadies her and checks to make sure she's fine, then gestures for her to go hide in the corner of the lobby. She nods and walks slowly off, as if she was just wandering around, and he turns back to the front desk.

There's two people there, and the bank teller looks very nervous.

Robbers, his mind supplies. I like this bank. They need to get out of here.

He approaches slowly, keeping his movements silent.

"-understood? Just give us the cash and nothing else gonna happen," the taller man says in a low voice. The shorter one is leaning on the counter, one arm up as if it's just propped there. It's not, though. Izuku can see the very tip of a pistol pointing out of his oversized sleeve.

He pulls a knife from the inner lining of his pocket, approaching them without alerting either to his presence.

He comes close enough to breathe on the taller man's neck, and presses the tip of the knife into his back.

He freezes, turning his head. Red eyes sneer through black bangs, and he fully turns around to face Izuku.

Izuku resists the urge to snort. What an idiot, turning his back on the teller like that. She could easily call the cops or press the emergency button he knows every bank keeps under the teller desks. Unless he was relying on his partner, or course, which is just as stupid.

"Oh, some hero wannabe?" The guy mutters, sounding irritated. "And what are you gonna do with that knife?" He lifts his shirt, showing the handle of a pistol tucked in his belt. Man, this guy isn't the brightest. There's cameras everywhere in here.

Izuku slides his eyes over to the other one, who seems a lot more intelligent than his friend. Orangeish-red hair, black eyes. Not actually short, just shorter than the other guy. He's staring like he's seen a ghost- which, given his own history, probably thinks he has.

"Tenji," short guy hisses, "That's..."

"I don't give a shit who he is," Tenji sneers down. Hm.

Izuku turns to the smarter one, flicking his head to the door. He nods quickly, grabbing his friend's arm to drag him out. His friend, of course, starts making noise and throws his friend off, which draws a few people's attention.

" Tenji ," he insists, body language shifting between his friend and the door. Poor guy. Izuku wonders how he ended up robbing banks with an idiot like this.

Tenji cusses his friend out, then points at Izuku, who ignores him, still looking at the shorter one. "Go on," he murmurs, gesturing disinterestedly, "Tell your friend who I am."

He nods, whispering something in his friend's ear, who immediately pales. He stares at him, clearly shocked.

"If you tell anyone..." Izuku threatens, letting their minds finish his sentence. They stare, swallowing the words. He lets the silence drag on uncomfortably, then, "Get your sorry asses out of here. Don't come back."

They nod violently, power walking out of the bank with a stilted pace, like they wanted to run. He watches them take off once they were through the doors and turns back to the teller, who stared at him with wide eyes.

"The nerve of some people," he joked, tossing a lazy smile her way.

She blanched, looking down at her keyboard and tapping away at lightning speed. "H-how can I help you today, sir?"

He grins, aware that it's a little sharkish. Eri approaches him, playfully trying to step on his toes. "Yes, I'd like to make a cash withdrawal."

Chapter Text

Katsuki watches the next battle with little interest, mind still reeling as he thought over his previous fight.

He severely underestimated his classmates. He won't do that again.

He looks down at his feet and the bottom of his pants, still damp from the melted ice. His boots left dark spots on the carpet of the watch room.

His classmate- the emo guy with his fuckass red hair dye- froze over the entire damn building. Katsuki, of course, destroyed the ice and blasted his way off, but he was just encased in ice again. It froze his sweat. He couldn't get out.

He hadn't considered any quirks that could limit his power like that, and it had cost him. Another weakness that he didn't know he had.

It's times like this, he thinks, that he misses Izuku. His quirk analyses were insane. They would've been perfect for this.

When he went through his old notebooks, he had been genuinely impressed with how good they were. A lot of his improvement now were based on the notes that De-Izuku took back in elementary school.

And it's absolutely insane to think about, that a fifth grader did all that. He was ten. And he had advice that held up... what, four years later?

Look how much I've changed, nerd.

He jolts out of his thoughts when Kirishima approaches him, waving a hesitant hand in his line of sight.

"What?" Katsuki bites out.

Kirishima looks nervous. "Uh... sorry about your match, bro."

Katsuki glares. "Yes."

"Um, I was just gonna ask if you, um, wanted to get a snack after school? I noticed that we take the same route home at first, and we're going to pass that Daiso..."

Katsuki watches him trail off into awkward muttering, silently deciding if this guy was worth talking to.

Since middle school, he's resolved to be more careful of who he hung out with. This guy seemed alright, he probably wouldn't end up like those dickriding extras, but still. He's careful now.

"Fine," he decides, since he was planning on stopping there anyways. He leans down, beginning to adjust his boot's fit so he doesn't have to make eye contact.

"Thanks, bro! Hey, do you like spicy food? You seem like the kind of guy who likes..."

Izuku watches the door like a hawk, expecting a group of criminals to burst in at any moment, ready to get revenge or just kill him or take Eri-

He takes a few grounding breaths, pinching the bridge of his nose. Nobody's coming. It was an idiotic, egotistical, stupid and thoughtless move, but they didn't know where he lived. They only saw him with his daughter, and that's just great -

He buries his face into his hands, leaning his elbows on the counter. Why did he do that? He could have just let the police take care of it. Why?!

The door jingles.

Izuku looks up, surprised to see Eraserhead and Present Mic filing into his café. He glances at the clock- it's only been an hour since opening. He doesn't usually get people this early.

Not that I'm complaining , he thinks, glad to have something distracting. "Aizawa! And another friend!" Mic side-eyes Aizawa, even as his eyes circle the café and take everything in. "Just the usual?"

Aizawa nods, moving to sit in one of the tables close to the door.

"Oooh, candy apple sweet tea?" Mic croons, eyes on the menu board. Izuku huffs as Eri's eyes snap up when she hears the name. "I'll get that. Wait- is it iced?"

"It can be cold or hot," Izuku replies mildly, stirring Aizawas's coffee.

"Cold is fine, just no ice please." Mic seems excited, for whatever reason. Izuku shrugs to himself, taking the wrinkled pocket cash and forking it into the register.

"Your name for the order?" Izuku asks, even though he already knows it. Interestingly, he hesitates to tell him. His eyes linger somewhere on Izuku's arm- wait. He didn't forget concealer, did he? No, he remembers putting some on this morning. Yeah, that's right.

Izuku swallows nervously, "Your... name, sir?"

He shakes his head like a dog trying to get something off its nose, then looks back up at him. "Sorry! It's Yamada," He says apologetically, "Zoned out for a second."

Izuku hums, pouring hot water into a cup. He wants to ask Aizawa about the counseling that he offered. Now he's having second thoughts, though. There's a chance, because of his stupid move this morning, that word is going to get out about her.

It's fine, he tells himself, they won't connect her to the Shie Hassaikai. But... her horns...

They probably didn't even see her, he reasons. It's fine. It's fine .

"Aizawa," he calls, setting the latte down. As he takes his coffee, Izuku swallows his nerves and says, "I was, um, thinking about that offer you mentioned the other day. For Seri."

Aizawa pauses, taking a sip from his coffee. "Oh?"

"Well, I am willing to... share... more information, if it means it can help her."

Yamada eyes the two as they talk, an analytical expression on his face.

The door jingles before Aizawa can respond, and Izuku's eyes dart to the door. Ah, just another regular.

"Chiaki!" Izuku grins in greeting. It's been a minute since she's showed up to the cafe.

The woman eyes the two heroes, before smiling at Izuku. "Kid. It's been a while, sorry about that. Had another long job."

Izuku's grin loses a little bit of spark. Don't say that in front of the heroes! "Yeah, I know how it is. Your usual?"

"Yeah," She says, handing him cash for a Deku special. He doesn't bother trying to give her the change any more, she always gives it back, generous tipper that she is. Izuku always thought she was either a bouncer or muscle for hire.

"Staying to chat?" He asks as he sets down Mic's order. "Yamada!"

"Oh, no, I can't. I've got a potential employer to talk to," she explains as she sits on one of the barstools.

"Aw," he says, though he's not surprised. "You'll have to tell me about it next time you're here."

She hums, eyes flicking to the heroes, who were chatting quietly. "How's the kid?"

"She's doing good," he says, pouring the whiskey. "I think I'm going to put her in school soon."

"What?" She asks, grinning. "That little runt's starting school?"

"Don't call her that," he glares, though he's smiling. "But yeah. She's six now, practically an adult."

Chiaki snorts, taking the steaming cup he hands her and standing up. "Can't believe it. Time flies."

"Yes it does," he sighs, wiping down the espresso maker. "Glad to see you."

"Yeah," she says, "Catch you around, kid."

"Stop calling me that!" he calls, but the smile in his voice gives him away. She snorts as the door closes, and he turns back to the heroes.

"So..."

"You were talking about the counseling?" Aizawa says, leaning back slightly.

"Yeah, I know it'll be good for her," he says, wringing his hands behind the counter. "I'm sure you just heard I want to put her in school."

He nods, eyes flicking to his partner for a moment. "It's an adjustment, for sure."

"Don't remind me," Izuku grumbles, trying not to think about this morning. Or the Shie Hassakai. Or, really, anything besides scrubbing the stain under the sink faucet.

A few hours later, somewhere dark and grungy, a small group of shady individuals crowded around a table. They talked about less-than-savory things, sharing rumors and discussing plans.

One of them swallows his nerves. He has to tell someone , he thinks.

"Tenji?" one of them asks. "Twin, you good?"

He looks around the table. They all stare back at him.

"That job we failed," he starts, licking his lips. "I saw something you... might... wanna know about."

They all lean in as he describes his encounter with someone that's supposed to be dead.

This is big news , they all think, some with apprehension, and others with wild grins.

Chapter Text

"Ummmm," Eri hums, following behind Izuku as they enter the quirk training gym. "Woah. It's big in here!"

Despite the price he payed to put her in these classes, he's still surprised by the technology and equipment placed around the gym. Analytical eyes scan the room, impressed by the high ceilings and advanced reinforcement- it looks more like a warehouse than a gym. His eyes linger on the deflectors spaced evenly on the wall, used as space-wide quirk regulators. They only really worked on emitter quirks, and they were most commonly found in prisons, but obviously they had other uses.

And they'd be perfect for today , he thinks, approaching an off-duty Midnight.

"I figured it was going to be you," he comments, a small smile playing on his face.

"Really? What gave it away?" She grins right back, glancing at Eri.

"Aizawa brought you to the café pretty much right after mentioning your," he gestures vaguely, "Services? Classes?"

"Ohh. Makes sense." She looks at Eri. "Well, what can you tell me about her quirk? From what I understand, it's complicated."

Izuku swallows. "It's an emitter, can rewind whatever she touches. This includes objects, plants... people."

He watches her reaction for any recognition, but she only nods in thought. A little bit of weight is lifted from his shoulders.

"I see," she hums. "And it's difficult to control?"

He sighs, looking at her carefully. "The last person who... she lived with, told her a lot of bad things about her quirk. They were... awful to her, to say the least." His voice dropped a little as Eri played with his shoelaces. "She's called it a curse, before, though I think we're mostly past that."

"Ah." She seems to get the idea. "Well, I can definitely help with that." Then she dropped to Eri's height, squatting so she could make eye contact. "Hi, Seri. Do you remember me?"

Eri nodded, hiding a little bit behind Izuku's legs. "From the café. Papa said you were a hero."

"Did he?" She played it up, putting a finger on her chin. "He's right! I've totally caught some bad guys before."

"Cool..." Eri says, coming a little more out of her hiding.

A few minutes later, they were all sitting on the floor in a padded area of the gym, with a few succulents and small potted plants surrounding Eri. Midnight- just Kayama, please -  was coaxing her into using her quirk on the one in front. It's about as tall as his forearm.

"Remember, I can stop your quirk with this little controller, and if something goes wrong, your dad's right here."

Izuku feels a small brush of pride at being called that, but continues watching her with perceptive eyes.

For a moment, nothing happens, but her horn starts to spark.

"Remember what I said," Kayama reminds her quietly, "Imagine it like a faucet. Just let a tiny bit out, and then close it again."

Eri focuses on the plant with determination, her hands ghosting over the leaves. It starts to shrink into itself, upper leaves pulling into the center of the stalk.

"Good job. Now, try to slow it down. Like flowing water, don't let as much through."

Her eyebrows pinch, and the shrinking starts to speed up.

"You can do it," Izuku quietly adds. The plant slows a little, down to the size of his hand.

Her expression wavers, and it starts going faster again.

They watch as it shrinks into nothingness, and then the dirt starts to move oddly.

"It's okay," Kayama says, as the dirt starts to dry out. "Let's see if you can turn it off."

"Like a faucet, remember?" Izuku adds, putting as much reassurance in his voice as possible. "It's okay if you break or undo something. She got this all just for you to practice on."

"Mmkay," she says, focusing on the dirt. After a tense few moments, the sparks start to subside.

"You did it!" Izuku grins, ruffling her hair. "Wow, you got it on the first try!"

"No I didn't," she sniffs, looking at the floor. "I couldn't stop it in time."

"You did a really good job, Seri," Kayama says. "I'm serious. I was ready to use the regulators."

He frowns at that, but listens as she continues, turning to him.

"I think the water analogy is more accurate than we originally thought."

"Is that right?"

"Yes, and I see what the struggle is. You've got a super powerful quirk here, miss," she smiles, "It's not like a faucet, as much as it is a dam of water."

"A dam of water?" Eri inquires.

"Yup. Imagine a big wall with a door blocking the water. It would be super easy to open, right? The water would help you push it open."

Izuku understands immediately what she's explaining, but lets Eri follow along.

"Well, now you have to close it. It would be soooo hard, because the water wants to keep going through the door!"

"It would keep pushing it open," Eri says. "So... my quirk is the water?"

"Exactly," Kayama whispers in a conspiratorial manner. "And there's another thing, but I'm not completely sure on this one."

Izuku raises an eyebrow, motioning for her to continue.

"Well," she runs a hand through her hair, "If a dam was completely full, the water that's pushing at the door would have way more pressure than one that's mostly empty. In the same way, I think that it will get easier to control the more you use it."

Understanding dawns on Izuku, and it all pieces together in his mind. "Stockpiling. You think she has a stockpiling quirk."

She snaps her finger and points at Izuku, "Exactly."

"And she's gone so long without using it, that it's, well, it's stockpiled too much energy for her to handle."

"Yes. So the more you use it," she turns back to Eri, who seems a little confused. "The easier it will be to control. You have to empty the dam. So... let's try another plant!"

Izuku watches as they go through another plant, and as she's in the middle of setting up a third, he asks, "Why not find something big and let her go all-out, get a bunch of energy out? Just too dangerous?"

"Kind of," she says, inspecting a particularly fat succulent, "I thought about it, but we're basically dealing with quirk unuse. Going from using so little to everything she has could be dangerous. Quirk exhaustion, losing control, an unknown side effect, anything could happen."

"Ah." He probably should have guessed something like that.

"All of those could be a possibility here, too, but we're taking the smaller risk, for the most part."

"I understand," he says, and leans onto his elbows to watch Eri determinedly shrink another plant victim.

---

Nemuri is pretty proud of herself for the progress she's made, and even prouder of Eri. It's a miracle to make this much progress in just one session. Though... she's starting to get the picture of what happened, and she's not liking what it's looking like.

"Thank you," Izuku says, holding very crisp-looking cash as they talked in the lobby. "You have no idea how much this means to us. But-" something dark flashes on his face, gone before she can understand it- "I need to know that we have confidentiality here."

"Absolutely. Nobody will hear about anything, outside of what they already know."

He chews on his lip, obviously debating something. "I mean everything . They can't know what she looks like, how old she is, the fact she's even a girl. Everything identifying."

She furrows her brow, glancing at Seri, who was kicking her feet in a waiting chair. "Do you need... do I need to contact someone on the hero side?"

"No," he bites out, and an overwhelming amount of dread pools in her gut. "They're gone."

'They' must be villains. Whoever had Seri before were villains. It's starting to click together. "You have my word. Nobody knows."

Immediately, the foreboding air between them vanishes. She couldn't tell anyone what changed, but something did. Maybe his quirk?

"Thank you," he sighs. He sounds so tired that she wonders if Seri used her quirk on him in the past, if he really was older than he looked, and it suddenly struck her just how likely that is. Could he be a thirty-year-old in a body half his age, after she lost control in some horrible accident? "Same time two weeks from now, right?"

She nods, taking the cash, and watches them both walk out, a little numb.

"Now, I think I owe somebody a trip to the mall..." his voice fades as the door closes behind them.

She wants to call Shota. Damn, she really wants to call Shota, but she just made a promise she is not going  to break.

Chapter Text

Katsuki growls as the school alarms blare, not moving from his seat in the cafeteria. It isn't a good idea, but he doesn't give a shit. He was trying to grow muscle, he wasn't going to miss a meal. And... maybe he didn't want to go into the crowded, screaming hall.

Chaos echoes in the halls outside, and he grimaces at a high-pitched scream. Whatever was happening out there, he decides it isn't worth more than his lunch.

He sits in a blaring cafeteria, shoveling rice into his mouth. Someone walks by, stops, and backpedals, landing squarely in front of him. Katsuki tilts his head up, staring at his visitor impatiently.

It's a tallish guy who looks like he doesn't get enough sleep. He has purple hair, pushed back like he pointed a blow dryer directly at his forehead and just let it dry that way.

He says nothing, just sits down and starts eating. Katsuki stares for a second, shrugs, and continues eating his own food.

At some point the alarm stops and people start sheepishly trailing back into the cafeteria. He ignores this, instead revising his workout plan for the next month on the notes app.

"Hey." Someone says. He looks up to find the purple-haired guy staring at him, gaze flicking down to his tray.

Katsuki raises his brows in silent question.

"Are you gonna eat those?" He points at the daikon slices. Feeling amicable, he shrugs and lets him pick the radish off his plate.

"Are you in the Gen Ed course?" He eventually asks after an awkward silence, eyeing the markings on his shoulders. He hadn't memorized what the button placement meant yet, but they're different from his.

"Yeah. You?" He asks around a piece of radish. Gross.

"Hero course."

"Ah."

More awkward silence. It's starting to get unbearable, and it reminds Katsuki of why he prefers to eat alone. He picks through his rice.

"I was aiming for hero course, but..."

Katsuki raises his brows, very pointedly looking up and down at this guy. He's built like a twig.

"What?" He asks, looking affronted and probably self-conscious.

"What's your workout routine?" He asks after a pause.

"My what."

Katsuki rolls his eyes. "Workout routine? Training? Exercise?"

Eyebags stays suspiciously silent.

"You wanted to join the hero course and didn't have a workout routine? "

He makes a very contemplative face, looking down at his food. Katsuki scoffs, shoveling more rice into his mouth. "There's your problem. Start with strength training. And eat more, you're built like a stick."

"Is this how you talk to everyone?"

"Sure is!" Shitty hair sings as he drops down next to them, apparently in the habit of eavesdropping on other's conversations. Katsuki glares at him, then turns back to Eyebags. "Yes."

"I'm Kirishima," he introduces, "I heard you guys talking about strength training? You should totally come with me to the mall after school! You can buy training equipment!"

"Huh," he breathes, then eats another piece of daikon. Katsuki regrets giving him those, because now he wants some too. "I wouldn't... know what to get."

"That's what we'll be there for!"

"Now, hold on, I never agreed to this-" Katsuki starts.

"Oh come onnnn," he drags, shooting a pathetic frown his direction.

Fucking- ugh. Happy thoughts. Remember to sit somewhere more secluded next time. Remember that these people aren't like his last 'friends'. "Fine."

Eyebags raises an eyebrow. "I mean. I guess. I'm on a budget, though."

"That's no problem! There's plenty of equipment we can get for cheap..."

The rest of the school day is boring, and Midnight leaves school early, being replaced with the most disinterested substitute on earth. His mind keeps bringing him back to that conversation. Why did that guy think he could ever get into the UA hero course without a basic workout routine? Maybe he was too reliant on his quirk. Actually, that made a lot of sense. Too many people here relied too heavily on their quirks. Purple hair's probably didn't work on the robots, or something.

He looks at the rest of the people around the classroom, which is about to dismiss, watching the way they move. Only a few people look like they potentially have training plans, and it abruptly makes him wonder how seriously these people were taking this.

Do they understand how dangerous of a job being a hero actually is? How likely they are to die in this line of duty? Are they here for 'glory', or to actually help people?

Once again, he finds himself wondering if he was disappointed with UA, or if he was over analyzing everything like usual. Maybe it's just his usual anti-social attitude towards people his age. Or his, apparently, high standards.

"-ki. Katsuki."

His eyes snap to his left, where Aizawa is slightly leaning over a desk.

"Huh?" He grumbles.

"Are you alright?" He asks, probably not for the first time.

He ignores the question. Feeling a little out of his own skin, he turns slowly back to the happily chattering teenagers. "Do you ever feel like your students don't understand how serious this is?"

Aizawa goes still. They both look at the students for a few seconds, caught in some sort of deep-though trance, then, "...constantly, yes. Do you? "

He watches the pink girl laugh at something on Shitty Hair's phone.

"Probably not," he finally answers.

"Hm," Aizawa leans back, glancing at the same people. "Something tells me you understand more than most people."

Katsuki hums, mind wandering to green hair and the notebook in his backpack. "Maybe." Or maybe he's still unsettled by the commotion during lunch.

Tomura grins wildly, high off the success of his most recent performance. They have no idea what was taken! And the plan is going smoothly, no hitches.

He pokes through the itinerary in a lazy manner. His underlings didn't need to know the full plan (couldn't have them blabbing to one of the heroes, right?), but he used the papers- and the obvious UA stamp on the outside of the folder- to wave around and catch their attention. Sensei said that these small fry needed to respect him, or they wouldn't even entertain the idea of following his command.

"Hey, hey! Everyone here, listen to me or get out!"

The muttering goes mostly quiet, faces turning to him.

"Tomorrow, as you know, we will be performing a... coup, of a sort. The plan: kill All Might."

The NPC's exchange glances, and nervous muttering weaves through the crowd. He grins from behind Father, waving the papers again.

"Ah, don't worry. That's my role, not yours. Your role will be as a distraction."

He waltzes around the front, lavishing in all the eyes on him. It's great to have so many... minuscule tools under his belt. "You will be brought into a training center for hero students. UA, if you can believe it. I need you all to distract the students and heroes watching over, while I send the big guns after the main boss."

The muttering, which had died down, starts up again. He frowns, glancing at Kurogiri, who is standing off and behind him, impassive as ever.

"Who's the 'big guns?'" someone demands.

"Yeah!"

Several people make noises of agreement. He clenches his fist, dissolving the papers in his hand. Oops. Well, he had it memorized, anyway.

"That's for me to worry about, and you to shut up about. If you're scared, go home. Some other background character will fill in your place." He growls out, eyes narrowing.

Multiple people turn back immediately, apparently too cowardly to tackle their own challenges. Typical. He growls, nearly gesturing for Kurogiri to grab them for him to deal with later, but decides against it at the last second. He's got more important stuff to do.

Urgh. These people are so selfish.

He goes over the details, as Sensei said was necessary. It doesn't take long, since there's not much to explain, and he finds himself in front of a slowly thinning crowd of NPC's talking among themselves.

He faces Kurogiri, ready to leave, when he hears a name muttered from the people behind him that stops him in his tracks.

He turns slowly to look at the people who were talking. "What did you say?"

They exchange nervous glances, and one of them stumbles slightly forward like he was pushed. Tell him, someone whispers.

"Well, uh-um, have you heard, that there was a recent sighting?" He stumbles.

"Of what?" He demands, fingers twitching. "Get to the point."

"Blue Star was, um, seen recently. Y'know, Yamaha guy?"

A pregnant silence fills the air.

"What. He's in Tokyo. And dead."

"That's what everyone thought. But, um, two people I know saw him, they got confirmation and everything."

Tomura stares at the NPC for several seconds. He notes absently that the warehouse is almost empty, now. "...There's no way. That runt's been dead for months."

"Apparently not," he says, scuffing a boot on the floor. He exchanges a glance between Tomura and his buddies. "And, he was with a girl. Like, a little kid. They both had green hair."

He hums. Cool. He's not sure how much he believes them, as it's second-hand information, but... there could be use for this.

"This has been... enlightening. Kurogiri! Let's go! I've just found some fascinating intel."