Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Ringing meets his ears, chronically aware of the soreness in his limbs that could only be described as pain. Not only did he vaguely remember where he was, the voice from earlier was still echoing.

‘’

“Allogene, listen carefully.” It had begun, a disembodied voice in his head. At first he froze and looked around- “You’re to be sent to the world over.” The strangely feminine voice continued, causing his head to clench like he was being torn inside. 

“What? What nonsense is this..” The puppet had begun, clutching the side of his head with one hand. 

“This is no sort of nonsense, child.” The impatient voice snapped, regretfully filling Wanderer’s mind with some distortion.

“Go to your archon, fulfill your purpose.”

‘ What the hell is this? No nonsense, they say?’ He thought, gritting his teeth together, and to his surprise was given an answer.

“Enough. Do not go against the words of Celestia.” It hissed, as if it could read his thoughts. Though, reasonably, it probably could.

‘’

Gradually recovering, he can make out the trees surrounding him. Was he still in Sumeru? 

No, impossible. He had been transported not long after, only given time to gather a few bearings and inform Nahida. And in front of the Archon herself, he fell.

Wanderer didn't know if he actually fell but it certainly had felt like it.  He had simply dropped from his body and it felt not like flying, but having the winds push down to guarantee a heavy and crushing impact. But then he was waking up, or perhaps opening his eyes, already on the floor without the bruising collision.

The puppets head still felt fuzzy on the edges, ears ringing as he slowly sat up on his knees, glancing around.

His items were in a bag when he fell- it was convenient. The first thing he collected and put in his bag was a chess piece. It held no thrumming power or value at all, but it was painted by Kunasali herself.

‘’I thought you’d like something reminiscent of a Gnosis, after everything.’’ She had said, brush pausing from swiping around the piece. The Castle*, painted with swirling winds and gold, on the top- the eye of an electro. In a sense he had been a bit irritated, though she had no regrets on the matter. The day before he began at the Akademiya, she gave the piece with a smile he couldn't tear away from.

‘’Keep it safe, alright?’’ Nahida- Lord Kunasali, chuckled, patting his hands as they closed and enveloped the piece.

He paused in his memories.

“Tsk,” Wanderer mumbled, putting the piece in the strap bag and leaving the smaller things (like paper he forgot to remove) on the floor, dusting himself.

Getting lost in his mind was the last thing he needed right now. Having so many would only lead to distractions, which he couldn't afford until he was safe and away from.. Well, wherever he was.

Standing up once he was steady enough, Wanderer glanced around. Trees, shrubs and a path. Following the man-made path, it led to a wide clearing with some wooden tables and a metal.. contraption*.. was what he could describe it as. Kids roamed on it, joy written across their faces.

Ignoring that with a small sense of disgust, he turned with the slinged bag twirling with him. Taking a moment to analyze further around, he noticed a sign. Though it was written in Inazuman, it consisted of odd words.

Musutafu Central Park

“Musutafu? What in the Archons name is that?” He wondered, snorting and turning onto what looked like a pavement road*- though the center wasn't concrete but black rock with yellow stripes down the middle. Seeing the sun cast a shadow he could gather it was evening, walking through the streets with a cautious look around.

Celestia, this wasn't going to be easy was it?

…

Wanderer was left, well, wandering the streets of the city- Musutafu was it? He had spotted people who looked deftly out of the ordinary- people with bright colored skin, or physical differences. Though hybrids in Teyvat weren't uncommon, this was a whole new level. No one even batted an eye, either. They acted like humans, and seemed similar to them too.

Before long, the sun dipped and he was left drifting.

So in this world, it doesn't seem to have visions. something must cause these mutations though..

In his thoughts, he had been walking across the street when a loud honk caught in his ears. Looking up with a carefully blank look, seeing two lights hurtling towards him, metal clanking and wheels screeching loudly. It hurt his ears mostly, he was about to disregard the entire ‘hiding his vision’ and launch upwards but was suddenly hooked around the torso and flung out of the road. The large metal contraption kept going, passing the now sitting puppet. 

The boy then looked up, noticing the fabric around him that slowly sunk away. Following the trail of a scarf to look up at a man with shaggy black hair. Like his hair, his outfit was pitch black other than that scarf thing- No alarm bells dispelled in his gut but still he warily eyed the man as he stood.

“Kid, are you alright?” The man asked as soon as he was up, reaching forward. Wanderer quickly swatted his hand though-

“I'm alright. Thank you for.. That.” Wanderer replied airily, though observing the man. It seemed he was concerned( and mildly annoyed), which twisted something in his gut. What caught his interest was his words, the slight accent to his Inazuman. “Now then, ill be on my-”

He was cut off when the man sighed, loudly (and rudely in his opinion).

“Listen kid, I can't let you wander the streets at night. Especially after you almost just got hit by a car.” The ravenette responded, rubbing his temples as if Wanderer was just another nuisance. A Car, hm? What a strange thing.

“Where are your parents?”

That's new. He surely looked young (cursed doll proportions, damn you!) but being asked for his guardians?

“I assure you I'm old enough to be alone.” Wanderer scoffed with distaste, arms crossing stubbornly. The man didn't waver, copying the pose.

“Where do you live? I can escort you.”

This is when Wanderer chose to curse every god in his mind.

With a glance around and a quiet intake of breath, the man only seemed to grow further disappointed. “Are you homeless?” He asked, to which Wanderer blinked and mulled it over. 

“I go where I like.”

“With or without a roof over your head?”

“..Both.”

“You're homeless.”

“What's it to you?” He grumbled, internally shooting back that the man looks homeless compared to him, this shaggy little-

“Damn it.” The hero replied instead, looking away before pulling out a glowing rectangle.

The puppet watched in some more feigned disinterest, really just observing the little box because wow, that's intricate.

“Okay kid, I'm taking you to the station.” 

Wanderer was roped into walking alongside this man towards a ‘police station’. Like Fontaine with its Gardes, he read a lot about the justice systems.. The buildings and everything around reminded him so much of Inazuma without its traditional charm. It was off-putting and welcoming, which wasn't the greatest combination.

Luckily, the man, who introduced himself as Eraserhead, a pro hero (Which Wanderer simply nodded because, what?), did not indulge in idle talk as they walked the pavement. Looking up at the stars, he vaguely made out Peregrinus in the stars like an image behind his eyes.

“Erasurehead-” Wanderer began, with a small grimace at the peculiar name- “why are we going to the station again?” He asked with a punctuating sigh, looking to the side profile of the hero.

“You're without guardians and nearly died.” Was the only feedback he got. Fine then, don't explain. He rolled his eyes and snorted, though didn't continue the conversation as they rounded to a rather small, brick building. Archons, these buildings are all over but will never get over the disdain.

The automatic doors ( amazed Wanderer as he entered) opened and he took slow steps behind Erasurehead to the lobby. It was empty, which was expected for this time of night, aside from a receptionist who seemed half asleep.

“Miss, can I get a paging with Detective Tsukauchi?” The hero asked, startling the woman. “Ah- Yes, of course Erasurehead!” She fumbled, typing quickly on the.. Was the slab in front of her glowing?

“Who is that?” Wanderer settles on asking instead, arms folded as Erasurehead glances over. 

“A detective. Don't worry, we just need his quirk to help.” He responded dryly, looking back at the receptionist and relapsing in conversation with her.

Right, quirk.

They still have those?

Wanderer sat in a plush armchair near the window, recounting his events. So far, he still didn't know why he was on.. Earth.

There was no doubt about it. He hadn't been created when Teyvat separated from Earth, but with enough knowledge, anyone could tell this was obviously the missing plane.

The Era of quirks greatly disrupted the connection of Earth and Teyvat. The islands of Teyvat were some of the largest governed by Gods, nations split. Earth had its beliefs, but no concrete God that could save them physically. To that, many grew envious of Tevyat's power; and so, when the quirk era began, rebellion formed to slowly corrupt Earth.

The Archons, nor the Shades, would stand for that. With their combined power, Teyvat vanished overnight. 

Some say the civilization retreated, but Teyvatians knew they were simply shielded nearly a world away.

Recalling this, he wondered what would come to him if anyone here found out about his origin from Teyvat. 

If he did this right, he wouldn't even be here long enough for that.

The hero’s greeting took Wanderer from his thoughts; a tall man with short, black hair and somewhat rectangular black eyes wearing some tan coat and matching hat stood shaking hands with Erasurehead. 

“Come on kid, we're just gonna ask some questions.” Erasurehead beckoned, before following the man. Slightly ominous and the ‘questions’ made Wanderer think this was more interrogation.

Being the absolutely compliant guy he was, (and contemplating how fast he could break out) Wanderer followed with no comment, until they reached a room. Inside it, there was a table, two chairs and one light. The room itself was barren and immediately put the puppet on edge.

Yep, an interrogation, he was sure. Taking a moment as the detective sat in one chair, he took a seat in the one across from him, hesitantly. Erasurehead stood nearby, watching closely.

“Hey kid. My name is Naomasa Tsukauchi, and legally I've got to let you know that I’ve got a truth quirk.” The detective began, speaking somewhat softly. He scoffed, but nodded. “Let's start simple. What's your name?” How useful, giving out information.

Ah the controversies. 

“I’ve had many names, call me whatever you’d like, it's all water under the bridge for me now.” Wanderer waved his hand dismissively, leaning back in his chair with folded arms. The detective didn't seem to take this answer, however.

“Can I get your given name?” Tsukauchi sighed, hands neatly clasped in front of him on the table. Wanderer simply raised an eyebrow. He hadn’t been given a name. He gave himself a name. He’d been called names. But they weren't exactly his.

Kunikuzushi was one. But was it smart to give a binding name? Perhaps it was customary to have two names, like most Inazumans had. 

“...Kyosuke.,” Wanderer- no, Kunikuzushi responded after a while. The detective nodded faintly, accepting the name. 

“And surname?” 

What insistence, I suppose this is similar to the Inazuman Tradition. What is my sur-...

By the Shogun, it would be Raiden. No, no way in Celestia’s name.

“..Kunasali..” He nearly grimaced.

“Very well then, le-” Wanderer raised a hand to cut him off once the man looked up from the file he wrote- presumably Kunikuzushi’s name- to interrupt. 

“Refer to me as Kyosuke.” He commented, Tsukauchi simply nodded though, which made Kuni simply narrow his eyes watching the pen move again.

“Very well Kyosuke. How old are you?” The detective continued lacing his hands together.

Lord Kunasali save him, Archons, Even Barbatos would help. What? He has no idea what he needs to be in order to complete his goal.

What is a 500 year old to say? If the goal was to help the societ-..

16. 16. Something whispered in his ear, causing him to wince mentally. It didn't sound like that other voice did- nor did it hurt his head. It was soothing and made him feel his visions power thrum in him for half a second.

“I’m 16.” He answered, trying his best to seem truthful. No one could know the exact truth. Hopefully.

“Unclear. Again, How old are you?”

“16.”

They split into silence for a moment before the detective begrudgingly scrawled the number on the file.

“And do you have a home?” Tsukauchi asked, a bit gentler than he had before, like one would when speaking to a child. Kuni felt the urge to scoff again, but suppressed it with a shake of his head. Realizing the man needed a verbal answer, “No.” He corrected, eyes flicking to Erasurehead in the corner. The man hadn't moved an inch, still impassive.

Tsukauchi let out a huff from his nose, drawing Kunikuzushi’s attention back. The man had pulled some new papers on the desk, looking one over.

“There seems to be no trace of you, no birth certificate, information, doctor visits- nothing.” The detective pondered aloud, cupping his chin.

“Aizawa, next chance you get, can you ask Nedzu about this?” 

Who is Aizawa? I thought his name was Erasurehead? Ah, the Inazuman name custom. A family name and given name. So Erasurehead was his.. family name?- how foolish of this detective to let the name slip.

Neither of them looked like they cared about the name drop.

Not useful information, then.

“So Kyosuke, What's your quirk?” Tsukauchi hummed, smiling again. It was forced, but small enough to look unthreatening. Kunikuzushi tilted his head.

“Peregrinus.” He decided, though it didn't seem to explain much to the men.

“And that is..?” Tsukauchi inquired after Kunikuzushi didn't elaborate any further.

The puppet tapping a finger on his leg, thinking. “..An-hm. Wind power.” He replied, tilting his head slightly. This was certainly odd- they weren't prying for information, not like Kuni was withdrawing it. 

“Wind? Alright, great. Do you remember anything from where you came from?” 

How many lies can I get away with?

He crossed his legs, humming as if in thought. “I don't recall much. I woke up in Central Park.”

“I think that'll be all for now, Kyosuke.” Erasurehead (Aizawa?) called, opening the door from where he stood by it. Kunikuzushi briefly met the Detective's eyes before getting up and nodding.

“Can I leave now?” He asked, pausing by the door as Aizawa walked to the table where Tsukauchi  sat.

“Wait in the lobby a minute,” The hero huffed, sitting down and waving Kuni off.

Before he leaves, he catches a mumble of “lots of lies”.  Rolling his eyes, he closes the door behind him and walks to the lobby. Noticing the woman from earlier dozed off by her glowing device, he sat in the armchair in the corner for a full-room view.

He looked at his vision, noticing its glow was weak. His eyebrows furrowed together in thought, before he looks at his hand and slowly summons a small ball of swirling wind.

Well, visions still work. Maybe it was because he was so far from Teyvat? Or the Gnosis, seeing Earth was a world away.

Closing his fist, the air vanished and he let his vision drop against the fabric scarf over his left side. 

What could they be talking about? Ah, if only he had an anemo wielder that could bring information by the winds. He took his time looking into his bag, making sure he hadn't lost anything. 

Looking up when he heard the sound of a door opening down the hall he had been in earlier. It was most likely the hero and detective. When the two reappeared and spotted him, Aizawa put his hands in his pockets. Kunikuzushi made no move to get up to walk towards them- sensing that, the duo walked over to his seat and sat in the waiting chairs across from him.

“Kyosuke, since we have no record of any guardians, you're going to need to be taken in. Orphanages are available but..” Tsukauchi  began carefully, leaning his elbows on his knees. Kuni raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms.

“ Erasurehead here volunteered to help you out.” Now that was more surprising. The hero looked tired and done, Kuni wouldn't have guessed the man willingly volunteered to take someone in. “If you agree, we can help you.”

Ah, was this your plan?

Challenge- “Accepted.”

____

Kage rewinded the footage once more, watching as the wind simply vanished from the boy's hand. Pulling up another tab, she searched every accessible file for him- and found nothing. Only the files submitted the same day the footage was caught on the Police Stations Security camera.

Kunasali [Kyosuke]

Age: 16(?)

Quirk: Pir  Peregrinus

Analysis: Wind use/power

Evaluation: Found at 21:04 PM near Sakihamete Str. saved from a near car accident, possible amnesia. Unable to recall events before waking up in Central Park.

Evaluation taken by: Tsukauchi Naomasa at 10 / 28 / 2234*

History: None

Medical History: None

That's all there was on this ‘Kunikuzushi’ boy.  She smacked her hand palm first on the desk, startling a coworker working on their computer the next desk over.

“Tsukiyo! Get me the Human Database!” Kage called, watching him nod from across the room and swiftly exit down the hall.

She sighed, putting his face in his hands.

People don't just appear.

He had to exist, somewhere.

Kunasali Kyosuke..

===

Kunikuzushi sneezed twice*, rubbing his nose disdainfully. It wasn't often his body committed to unrelated human gestures, especially things like sneezing or coughing unprovoked.

It was already morning-  Aizawa glanced at him, raising an eyebrow.

The puppet had stayed in the Aizawa household- and it was arranged for it to be that way as long as necessary. Since they got to the apartment so late, they had resolved to put Kunikuzushi in the guest room and talk it over in the morning. Kuni did not need sleep; but he thought better to humor the hero and sat at the dining table when he saw an adequate time to ‘wake up’

How was he supposed to know people don't usually wake up at 5 AM without reason?

“So, Kyosuke.” Aizawa sighed, putting his mug of coffee on the table and sat across from the Kyosuke in question. “Firstly, you need plausible education years. Now that you're in my care, we can talk about attending schools.”

“I have an education. I’ve been a representative for Vahumana-” He began deftly, eyebrow twitching when he cut himself off. The Akademiya’s education didn't necessarily count here, did it?

“Nevermind. What school do I need to attend to be able to use my.. quirk?” 

He was then questioned about what he knows about hero society (safe to say, close to none.) 

By the time Aizawa was done interrogating him, disregarding the actual question, a man with blonde (or was it yellow?) hair yawned, entering the dining room and making a beeline for the kitchen with quite a large- and audible- yawn.

“Morning Hizashi.” Aizawa greeted without looking up from massaging his temple, elbow leaning on the dining table. The blond- Hizashi- seemed comfortable, so it was most likely he lived here with Aizawa. Though, Kuni didn't see him yesterday. Maybe he was already asleep.

With another large yawn (that made Kunikuzushi want to seal his mouth shut), the man smiled and sighed breezily. 

“Morning Shota! Who's this little listener?” Hizashi inquired loudly despite being tired, to which Kuni hoped he wasnt louder when more attentive. The man, now holding a mug matching Aizawa’s, walked and sat at the table, nursing his cup with a large smile.

“This is Kyosuke. I was hoping to talk to you about this privately, but it's no use. I'm taking him in after circumstances, I'll fill you in later.” Aizawa hummed, ignoring how Kuni’s eyes narrowed and watched their interaction with crossed arms. 

“Kyosuke here needs to get into schooling, so I was thinking he could try for UA’s entrance exam.” Aizawa began, interrupted by Hizashi's cheer, pumping a fist in the air. 

“Another listener you're taking under your wing, huh? I knew you were a softie!” Hizashi exclaimed, reaching out to pat Aizawa's back, but reeled his hand in when Aizawa shot him an offended glare. 

“Another?” Kunikuzushi tilted his head, realizing he asked aloud when the two turned their heads- Hizashi more owlishly as if he just revealed the nation’s secrets. To that, Aizawa sighed deeply.

“Yes, another. I’m training another problem child for the exam aswell.” 

So this man is a mentor? Hopefully a good one. This ‘UA’ they speak of seems important. Kuni hummed, cupping his chin.

“Is UA hard to enter?” Kuni swapped topics, looking up and meeting Aizawa's steely gaze instead of Hizashis (the man was sipping from his mug obnoxiously loud).

“It's a prestigious school. Best Hero Academy in Japan, so I’d say it's a struggle.” Well, Kunikuzushi definitely respected Aizawa for not sugar-coating it, though it seemed Hizashi begged to differ based on the cry he let out, nearly spitting his drink out.

“SHOTA! YOU CAN'T DROP THAT KIND OF EXPLANATION!" Hizashi exclaimed, waving his hands over his forgotten mug. 

“Dont worry kid! It's hard but I'm sure you can do this, I believe in you!” Hizashi encouraged, oblivious (or clueless) to Kunikuzushi's shrinking from the near-screaming bout. Aizawa however reached out to lay a hand on Hizashi's shoulder, taking over.

“I meant it. The school is truly hard. We should try signing up for multiple schools in case you don't pass the one you want.” The more reasonable hero reminded.

Kuni tapped his leg, scrunching the fabric of his pants to think. He had been given a change of clothes, thought kept his old clothes on his bed and only changed to keep clean. The hat (which he was reluctant to depart) sat on his bed too, after Aizawa told him to put it away when seeing the boy sit at the table at ungodly hours of the morning, pajamas on and a hat that was ridiculous with the outfit.

After a moment of thought, Kunikuzushi looked up and leaned back in his chair, shaking his head.

“No, just sign for UA’s exam. I'm certain I can pass.”

Aizawa and Hizashi exchanged a look. Some could call that kind of confidence callous but with the exam this boy was going for, it was surely foolish. Though, who were they to deny the message? Aizawa simply noted to secretly enroll in exams for other hero schools in case UA didn't work out.

===

Something was up with this kid. First he gets up at the asscrack of dawn, sits at the dinner table and nearly scares the shit out of him. Aizawa hadn't even had coffee and was faced with.. That.

The boy didn't eat breakfast; he didn't bat an eye when Aizawa personally began feeding him information about hero society, only did he react when he was annoyed (read: when Hizashi entered the frame).

God, why Aizawa of all people in this damned world?!

___

Six months. Aizawa told him he had six months to prepare for entrance exams. The louder hero had fretted over his lack of experience compared to kids who looked towards this goal since they were young. Kuni brushed it off, glaring at the man when he tried to empathize.

It had been one month since he entered the Aizawa household. Or rather Aizawa, loud blonde and cats. 

He couldn't say he wasn't fond- the man was respectable, and Hizashi was an okay person when being quiet. The two made him welcome, though sometimes overlooked and treated him like a poor rescued child.

So, when they told him there was a written part of the exam, (because of course there was,) he could only sigh internally and spite the world externally. Not the other way around. He also noticed how Aizawa noted the words Kunikuzushi used. It sounded like simple Teyvatian phrases to him, though he supposed to people on Earth like Aizawa, it would seem odd to spit out ‘Oh my Archons’ in replacement to God. Which was foolish- Archons were Gods, not a single God. He’d have to read up on that.

Back to the written exam shit-

No, Kunikuzushi was dumbly stuck on studying. Aizawa had given him a few books to go over, as did Hizashi. They were somewhat similar to what he learned in Akademiya, except either too complicated or unheard of.

Hero laws? Why do you need laws for people to save you?! He groaned, slamming the book shut loudly and possibly much more aggressive than necessary.

“EVERYTHING ALRIGHT?” Hizashi called from presumably the kitchen, muffled from the distance. Damn these thin walls.

Kuni did not grace them with an answer; though they probably figured by now he was not going to yell his wellbeing across the house. (The idea was reinforced when he almost tripped over a cat and knocked over some stuff, and had the two rush to find him petting the cat with a fallen pot on the floor.)

Poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue, he skimmed the page again. He knew his Inazuman was somewhat odd compared to this language- (Japanese, his mind supplied faintly)- and he ended up going over things like math instead.

He was determined to say the least. Kunikuzushi had six months to master this world’s academics, and since he was already fairly confident in his physical ability, he passed up many opportunities Aizawa offered.

Now, was an exception. Someone knocked on his door, (the guest room for now) and opened it a moment after without waiting for a response. It did annoy him but he snapped his mouth shut as Aizawa peered in, nodding in greeting.

“Kyosuke, come out to the training ground. Shinsou is here today.” The hero told- no, more of an order to a child- to him with a small jerk of his hand before disappearing behind the half open door. So much of a warning that is. He was dressed casually so he quickly put a pair of shoes on, following the man's footsteps to the training area. Kunikuzushi found Aizawa to be a respectable man. Not that Hizashi simply wasn't.. He was just an interesting individual.

 The training area was pretty much a gym in the basement floor of the apartment complex (the complex only housed heroes that preferred apartments over large houses) which simply irked Kunikuzushi. Why train in such a confined space when the open world offers far more dynamic challenges? Then again, he supposed this world relied heavily on controlling one's abilities, not unleashing them indiscriminately. A sigh escaped him, unheard. 

He’d much rather take the stairs instead of the room in the walls that carried people around the floors. (an ela-valator?) 

Entering the gym, it was simple to say an eyesore. It was a sterile, brightly lit room, padded walls, and a thick, dark mat covering the floor. Aizawa was already there, leaning against a wall, arms crossed, his capture weapon coiled loosely around his neck. Beside him stood a boy, perhaps a year younger than Kunikuzushi’s perceived age, with disheveled purple hair and tired-looking eyes. This must be the ‘other problem child’. He also had a capture weapon, one Aizawa told him about since Kunikuzushi got curious when he remembered the fabric that had ‘saved’ him.

“Kyosuke,” Aizawa’s voice was flat, acknowledging his presence. “This is Hitoshi Shinsou. Shinsou, this is Kyosuke.”

The purple haired boy- Shinsou- blinked a few times, pulling the scarf away from his mouth. 

“No last name? Or is Kyosuke the last name?” He asked, tilting his head with observing eyes. He hated observers. The smart ones always pried too far.

“Just Kyosuke.” The boy seemed… unremarkable. No flashy attire, no obvious signs of a powerful Quirk. He had a slight slouch, and his hands were shoved into his pockets. Shinsou, in turn, hummed without further chat, his eyes narrowed slightly, perhaps trying to decipher Kunikuzushi.

“We’re going to run a few drills,” Aizawa continued, pushing off the wall. “Start stretching while I explain.”

Damn it, he should've worn active wear. 

“Shinsou, you’ll start with a few rounds of basic combat against Kyosuke. Kyosuke, restrict your Quirk for this first round. Focus on hand-to-hand combat and evasion. I want to see your fundamentals.”

Kunikuzushi’s eyebrow twitched. Restrict his ‘Quirk’? His quirk could be restricted but not in the way these people understood it. He might as well discard the Vision’s use. Kunikuzushi felt the Anemo Vision thrum in his chest- the compartment that was designed to hold a gnosis. He could easily conjure miniature gales or shift his body with the grace of wind,  but he merely nodded again, a flicker of irritation in his eyes that Aizawa caught.

“Unless you have a problem with that, Kyosuke?” Aizawa’s tone was challenging.

“No that's alright. Does he not have a physical ability?” Kuni regarded the boy, with no outward qualities other than his tired posture and purple hair (which he found out was supposed to be normal despite being much brighter than the types of purple in Teyvat). 

“No, it's mental.” Shinsou stepped forward, taking a stance, though he seemed somewhat hesitant. “Uh, what exactly is your Quirk, Kyosuke?” he asked, his voice low, almost a mumble.

Mental? Absolutely not. Kunikuzushi’s eyes narrowed. He hadn't expected the question so directly. He didn't offer a sharp comeback, but his glare was enough. “Irrelevant, we're not using v-’quirks’ anyways.” The word tested his tongue, that was for sure.

The boy looked shocked. Like deer-in-headlights shocked. Kuni knew he was probably intimidating when irritated, but he didn't expect the boy to freeze. Not that he felt guilty- Shinsou quickly recovered.

Aizawa stepped between them, seemingly unfazed by the small interaction. “Alright, the rules are simple. One on one. No quirks, no outward forces. Immobilize them for three counts or get them off the mat.” The hero explained, gesturing to the circle mat nearby, large enough to make a small clearing.

The two stood across from each other. It seemed Shinsou was about to say something, but Aizawa clapped once and Kunikuzushi dashed.

 But Shinsou was surprisingly quick despite his earlier demeanor. He threw a standard jab, aiming for Kunikuzushi’s face. Kunikuzushi, however, was faster. He swayed, the punch moving past his ear, and instinctively his hand shot out, not to strike, but to grab Shinsou’s wrist. His grip was precise. He used Shinsou’s forward momentum against him, twisting his arm and pushing him off balance.

The other was stunned, not expecting something so fluid. But it seemed he had some survival instinct, because he rolled quickly after losing balance, using that same momentum to strike at Kunikuzushi's feet. The puppet felt the corners of his lips upturn slightly in the beginning of a smirk.

So, he used his flexibility instead of strength. Hopping off one foot and back, he waited until the other was righted fully to dart forward. Last second as Shinsou prepared to defend, Kuni changed direction to the side, just out of the way and kicked off the mat to elbow the boy’s side, blocking the too slow punch and jumping back to allow Shinsou a move.

Predictably, the boy attempted a kick this time, aiming for Kunikuzushi’s knee. Kunikuzushi pivoted, a foot coming up to block the kick with a soft thud. He briefly considered using a breath of wind to unbalance Shinsou, pass it off as a ‘natural gust’, but decided against it. He could win this hand-to-hand. He could win this with his eyes closed. This was child’s play. (He ignored the thrill of a fight and the small sweat down his back. It had been a while.)

He saw an opening. Shinsou was off-balance, his guard slightly open as he recovered from the blocked kick. Kunikuzushi darted forward, his movement so swift it looked like teleportation. He closed the distance, his hand snapping out to lightly tap Shinsou’s solar plexus. 

The tap was gentle, but the speed behind it was enough to make Shinsou gasp and stumble backward, collapsing onto the mat. He took that to grab Shinsou's outstretched arm that tried to steady himself, pushing the arm down to trap the other.

Kneeling over him, he looked up blandly to the hero watching. “Three counts. I win.” 

Aizawa simply hummed approvingly, giving the signal to help Shinsou up. Kuni let go of the other, stepping away and allowing him to get up himself. Shinsou seemed disappointed to lose, but Kunikuzushi could practically smell the admiration.

Gross. Do not ask me questions.. He begged the gods, sighing internally when Aizawa spoke again.

Aizawa cleared his throat. “Alright, that’s one point to Kyosuke. Shinsou, try to anticipate his movements. Kyosuke’s physical prowess is far beyond what you might expect from someone his age. His reflexes are… abnormal.” Aizawa’s eyes flickered to Kunikuzushi, observing him closely. He’d seen the subtle shift, the unnatural way Kyosuke moved, almost like he wasn't bound by typical human anatomy. It was fascinating, at least.

Shinsou pushed himself up, rubbing his chest. He looked at Kunikuzushi with renewed caution, a spark of determination in his tired eyes. “Alright. Again?”

“Again,” Aizawa affirmed. “This time, Shinsou, you can use your Quirk.”

“And I can't?" Kunikuzushi guessed, though he knew fully well why. If the boy had a mental quirk, he needed to get used to physical combat before apprehending quirks. Superpowers, essentially.

He had already fallen into a loose combat pose, watching Shinsou do the same when Aizawa sighed as an answer. Then he clapped. Before Kunikuzushi could dash, Shinsou stood up straight.

“Right,” Shinsou said, his voice a little clearer now. “Hey, Kyosuke. What’s your favorite color?”

Kunikuzushi paused. He had no favorite color. He had no favorite anything. Such trivialities were beneath him. He simply stared at Shinsou, his silence stretching.

Shinsou waited. And waited. Aizawa watched them both, a flicker of something unreadable in his gaze.

“Kyosuke?” Aizawa prompted.

Kunikuzushi finally blinked. Just a blank stare, and then a simple, blunt truth that wasn’t meant to be insulting, but certainly came off that way. “I don't have a favorite color. That is an absurd question.”

It's clear Kunikuzushi was missing something, because Shinsou's shoulders only sagged. “Oo-kaay.. Then what do you do in your freetime?”

He mulled it over. The books he was given? Or perhaps those trips he took with Nahida back in Teyvat. How trivial.

“I study in my-” He cut himself off, eyebrows knitting together furiously. Something was there. His brain tickled and for a moment he felt himself slip. Catching his consciousness, he dashed forward and grabbed Shinsou's shirt, spinning the other to disorientation. 

“What was that? What did you do?” Kunikuzushi demanded, his grip on Shinsou’s shirt tightening. The purple-haired boy was disoriented, swaying slightly, his eyes wide with surprise, especially after Kunikuzushi had seemed utterly unaffected moments before.

Aizawa was already moving, his captured weapon unfurling just enough to create a barrier between the two boys. “Kyosuke, release him.” He called, walking into the circle. 

Kunikuzushi’s eyes, usually bland, were alight with a fierce, almost feral confusion. He glared at Aizawa, then back at Shinsou, the very air around him seeming to crackle with his displeasure. The thing in his mind. Like he was losing himself, him, a thing forged by God, and to a mental trick. The thought infuriated him.

“I asked what you did,” he repeated, his voice low and dangerous, ignoring Aizawa for a moment. He finally loosened his grip on Shinsou’s shirt, allowing the boy to stumble back.

Shinsou, catching his balance, rubbed his neck nervously. “My… my Quirk. Brainwashing,” he mumbled, sounding a little intimidated. “If you answer a direct question, I can… control you.” He glanced nervously at Aizawa, then back at Kunikuzushi, who was still staring at him as if he’d just grown a second head.

 The momentary lapse, the sense of being forced, infuriated him beyond measure.

Shinsou seemed overall uncomfortable. He couldn't blame the kid. He spoke of it like a fearsome quirk, after all. Aizawa sighed for the hundredth time in two minutes, running a hand through his hair. 

“This is a waste of time,” he muttered, but he returned to the center of the mat, his stance coiled and ready. He wouldn’t be caught off guard again. He would not allow it.

Shinsou took his position again, looking a little more confident this time, but still wary. He knew now that Kunikuzushi wasn't just fast; he was something else entirely.

Aizawa clapped again. “Round two. Begin.”

Shinsou didn’t hesitate this time. “Hey, Kyosuke,” he called out, his voice clear. “What’s your opinion on hero society?”

Kunikuzushi’s eyes narrowed instantly. He felt the familiar, unpleasant flicker at the edge of his consciousness, the subtle tug. He wouldn't speak. He wouldn't even think of an answer. Instead, his body moved. 

This time, he simply shifted his weight, rotating his torso and taking a half-step back, before charging and engaging in a fight. If the quirk activated verbally, he would just restrain himself from talking.

Kunikuzushi allowed himself a small, private sense of satisfaction. Tickle that, you pathetic human. He still found the entire situation beneath him, but at least he wouldn't be caught by such a tactic again.

Hooking his arm around Shinsou’s neck, the boy tried to quickly adapt to flip but Kuni rolled them on the floor, holding him in a lock. 

Aizawa, from the sidelines, nodded in begrudging approval. “Point to Kyosuke,” he announced, the capture weapon still coiled at his neck, but ready. “Shinsou, you need to be faster. And Kyosuke, while effective, that’s not how we typically handle mental Quirks. We don’t want to cause unnecessary harm. The goal is to immobilize. Not engage in a full physical takedown every time someone tries to talk to you.”

Kunikuzushi released Shinsou with a dismissive push. “It worked, didn’t it?” he retorted, his voice flat. He saw no reason to complicate matters. The objective was to not be controlled, and he had achieved it.

Shinsou himself seemed disdainful at the solution but dusted himself anyway.

“Kyosuke, you're seriously fast. It's almost artificial,” Shinsou complimented quietly, reaching a hand out to, presumably, end the spars with a handshake.

Kunikuzushi remained silent, his expression unreadable. Artificial? A crude observation, yet not entirely inaccurate. He had been ‘perfected’ in a sense, a puppet designed for a purpose. But the thought of his origins, the gnawing emptiness of his past, flashed through him. Buer wouldn't approve of his self indulging. So he pushed it down.

Taking the boy's hand in a firm shake, he let go just as quickly as it was accepted. 

Then, they were caught off guard. Aizawa clapped. “Begin!”

Shinsou immediately adopted a casual pose, hands in his pockets. “Hey, Kyosuke,” he called out, his voice calm, almost conversational. “Did Aizawa-sensei tell you what we’re having for lunch?”

Kunikuzushi didn’t even twitch. He didn’t care about lunch. He didn’t have to eat. His gaze remained fixed on Shinsou, calculating. The question was a blatant trap, but he recognized the subtlety. It was an indirect question, one that required a simple affirmative or negative, disguising the trigger. He took a single, silent step to the side.

Shinsou tried again, shifting on his feet. “You know, I heard that some of the UA faculty eat at that new soba place. Have you ever tried soba, Kyosuke?”

He wrinkled his nose, beginning a circling motion with light steps. “Kyosuke, you’re not allowed to ignore me!” Shinsou challenged, trying to provoke a response, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. “Isn’t that rude?”

This was a classic bait, aimed at his ego. It almost worked. Kunikuzushi felt a familiar surge of indignant anger, the remnants of the Balladeer’s pride. He was not rude; he was simply above such trivialities. The retort formed on his tongue, sharp and cutting, but he caught it, clamping his mouth shut. He merely sped up his circling, closing the trap.

Kunikuzushi merely scoffed, though internally he seethed. To be so easily provoked. This body, these emotions… they are a weakness. He hated the feeling, the loss of control, even if it was only within his own mind. 

“Alright, Shinsou,” Aizawa said, rubbing his chin. “You’re thinking. That’s good. But Kyosuke’s learning too quickly. We need to introduce a variable. Kyosuke, while avoiding direct answers, you are now allowed to make non-verbal sounds or gestures only. Shinsou, you need to create a scenario where Kyosuke must react verbally or be caught.”

Shinsou looked puzzled. “How do I do that, sensei?”

“Think,” Aizawa challenged. “Villains don’t always just ask questions. Sometimes they threaten. Sometimes they make demands. Sometimes they try to trick you into a response.” He looked at Kunikuzushi. “And Kyosuke, remember, in a real fight, silence can be a weakness. Sometimes, you need to communicate, even under duress.”

Kunikuzushi felt a grudging acceptance. This was more like it. A true challenge. A mental puzzle superimposed on physical combat. He returned to the mat, his focus sharpening.

Aizawa clapped once more. “Round Three. Begin.”

Shinsou started pacing, his eyes darting around. He wouldn’t ask a question. He had to be smarter. He cleared his throat. “Alright, Kyosuke. Hear me out. If you don’t tell me your full name right now, I’m going to reveal all of Aizawa-sensei’s embarrassing secrets to the entire school.”

Kunikuzushi froze. Not because of the threat, which was absurd, but because of the structure of the demand. It wasn't a question, but a condition for an action.

Clever.

“And what would that be?” He asked back, falling into a combative pose. The boy’s eyes sharpened and he began to speak. Cut off by Kunikuzushi, who dashed forward, leveraging his lowered guard, not to attack directly, but to distract. He moved so fast that Shinsou flinched back, instinctively raising his hands. Kunikuzushi aimed a feint at Shinsou’s chest, then spun on his heel, coming up behind him, aiming for a swift, non-damaging bind.

Another win.

A long beat of silence, then Kuni released Shinsou who got up, dusting himself off. He could feel the boy was disappointed, but he simply looked at Aizawa.

“..Good job. That's all for now. Shinsou, go warm up some more.” Aizawa waved, watching Shinsou find his way to a corner with a bag and water.

“So Kyosuke, where did you learn all this?” The hero began as Kuni approached, arms crossed and standing in front of the man.

“I’ve… always been observant,” Kunikuzushi finally said, the words carefully chosen, some vagueness coating them. He maintained eye contact with Aizawa, daring the hero to find a crack in his facade. “I pick things up quickly.”

Aizawa’s eyes narrowed, not in anger, but in consideration. “Observant, yes. Quick to adapt, undoubtedly. But when Shinsou mentioned your speed, your precision-  that’s not something you just ‘pick up’ from watching videos, Kyosuke. That kind of work requires focused training, perhaps even a specialized environment.”

The hero stepped closer, forcing Kunikuzushi to re-evaluate his stance, though he didn't physically react (He might've glared a bit harder). Aizawa’s presence, though not threatening, was definitely the kind of questioning a father would to a son up to no good. This man would not be easily fooled, what a nuisance.

“Specialized environment?” Kunikuzushi scoffed, a sound of disdain. “I spent my years.. Moving around.” He almost said wandering, but caught himself. 

Wanderer.  Constantly threatening to slip from his tongue. He wasn't that- at best he was ‘Hat guy’. (The thought made him frown.)

Using the name Traveler had given him, it felt wrong. But these heroes wouldn't accept Wanderer as a name, so if the Traveler could conjure up a name for him, this was the only time to use it.

 “From place to place. One picks up various skills out of necessity.” He allowed a hint of boredom to seep into his voice, hoping to convey that the subject was tiresome.

It didn't work.

“Necessity, you say?” Aizawa countered, his gaze unwavering. “Necessity for what? Survival? Combat? Your file is… remarkably thin, Kyosuke. Almost nonexistent, in fact. You appeared out of nowhere, with no verifiable history Yet your combat prowess is far beyond that of a typical civilian, even one with a difficult upbringing. Your physical conditioning, your reflexes… they’re on par with, if not exceeding, some of the top students in this program.”

Kunikuzushi felt a familiar surge of irritation. Always questions, always probing. He was not a record to be filed, a statistic to be measured. He was an existence beyond such mundane classifications. He clenched his jaw, slightly tightening his shoulders.

“..guess that means I have a better chance at entering UA, correct?” The puppet snorted instead of answering, eyes narrowing back at him. He hadn't fully thought through his entire ‘backstory’ for this world.

Aizawa only sighed, seeming defeated. “Listen kid, you're an enigma here. If we can get you to explain some things, that's all we need.” Aizawa rubbed his temples, no longer an ‘interrogating’ force.

“My past is my own,” Kunikuzushi stated, his voice flat, devoid of emotion. He opted for a defensive, uncooperative stance, a common tactic against relentless questioning. “It has no bearing on my ability to become a hero, if that is your concern.”

“ Kyosuke,” Aizawa said, his voice surprisingly gentle, which made Kunikuzushi’s shoulders relax for a moment. “A hero’s past often shapes their future. Understanding your origins helps us with your training, and ensure you’re not harboring any… secrets that could jeopardize yourself or others.” His eyes held a hint of steel. “I’m not asking to pry, Kyosuke, I’m asking to ensure you’re truly ready for what you're going for.”

Secrets? Kunikuzushi almost snorted. He was a walking, breathing secret. His very existence here was a secret. He was a being of a different world, infused with the remnants of a divine Electro Gnosis, a discarded puppet of a god, a vengeful harbinger, a redeemed man, and now… a soon-to-be student at a hero academy. The irony was not lost on him.

He glanced towards Shinsou, who was now quietly practicing combat forms in a corner, his brow furrowed in concentration. The boy’s earlier comment – “almost artificial”. What a reminder. He was a puppet, designed for a purpose. He was not artificial in the sense of being a robot, devoid of thought or feeling. He was something far more complex, a being forged from a god’s desire and mankind’s folly, capable of experiencing emotions he often wished he didn’t possess.

He hated this body, hated these emotions. The frustration, the anger, the slight tremor of indignation that threatened to betray his composure. They were weaknesses, binding him to a flawed existence. He pushed the thoughts down, forcing his mind back to the present. Buer wouldn't approve of this anger again.

After a long moment, he found himself answering the man, looking back at the hero who stood loosely with crossed arms, looking trustworthy.

Looks are deceiving.

“My secrets are not to hide, they're just irrelevant. I can explain to you.. One day. Not today, though. You're not..” 

 trustworthy.  

“..I don't feel like it.” 

Aizawa, a man smarter than he seemed, picked up what he meant and simply nodded. Afterall, this was what he thought of a homeless boy running away from his problems.

“Alright, Kyosuke,” Aizawa finally said, stepping back marginally. “I won’t press further for now. But know this: UA is built on trust and transparency. If there’s anything that could impact your ability to function as a hero, anything that could jeopardize the safety of your classmates or the public, it will eventually come to light. And when it does, it would be better if you were the one to disclose it.”

It was a warning(maybe a threat?), subtle but clear. Kunikuzushi merely nodded, a curt, dismissive gesture. He had no intention of revealing anything. His mission here was singular, He was not here to dredge up the ruins of his past, nor to bare his soul to a world that could not comprehend it.

He remembered words that floated back to him some days. He was talking to Buer about the mysterious mission, and as always she delivered.

“Observe humanity, Wanderer. Understand their perseverance, their resilience, their capacity for both great good and great evil. Perhaps in their aspirations, you will find an echo of your own purpose.” 

He hadn’t found such an echo yet. All he saw was a messy, loud, and incredibly intrusive world.

Walking off to the stairwell outside, he took a deep breath.

Archons did he miss flying.

___

And on the day of Kunikuzushi’s arrival, a boy with a lyre a few feet away and glowing teal-black braids sat up on the forest floor, looking around with owlish eyes.

“Huh?”

Chapter Text

Two months.

Two months until entrance exams.

Four months in this strange world.

Kunikuzushi found that he quite liked the normal routine he fell in, especially with Aizawa and Hizashi. Though each morning he has to scold himself to not get too used to it here.

The months passed quickly, but the puppet soon found that no routine could stop his longing for Teyvat. Being away for so long in a strange world surely took his toll. Often times, he waited for Hizashi to “wake him up”.

He (again) hadn't slept, sitting up in bed after watching sunlight filter into the room from the slightly parted curtains, stretching his arms up into an unnatural arc.

Library again.. Hmm, maybe I’ll stick around for Shinsou's training today, he’s getting better.

Blinking, he let his hands rest in his lap, observing the joints, barely visible puppet imagery. Squinting at his hands closer, bringing it up against the light to see better, he thought further.

No, that's not smart. The first time I joined a session, he'd seen through me.

‘’

 UA is built on trust and transparency. If there’s anything that could impact your ability to function as a hero, anything that could jeopardize the safety of your classmates or the public, it will eventually come to light. And when it does, it would be better if you were the one to disclose it. 

‘’

Kunikuzushi sighed at the words, arms crossing as he looked back out the window, stalling for time. What kind of soldier was he? Still stuck on some words from months ago- Aizawa hadnt really brought it up again aside from when he was in the gym.

He joined two sessions after that but each time Aizawa tried to coax information, so he chose better to sit out of the training.

As expected, an obnoxiously unsubtle cough followed by a loud rapping filled his room. He curled the blanket away, mentally preparing himself, and trudged to his door. Hurling it open, Kuni caught a shocked Hizashi with a fist mid-knock.

“Morning little listener! Sorry to wake ya, but you have to get used to the school schedule!” The blonde announced, hands swinging to his hips and raising his fist with determination. “After all, you're shooting for the stars!”

Kunikuzushi looked at him with a twitching eye.

Hizashi didn't catch the hint, continuing and swaying side to side actively.  “Come on Kyosuke! Let's catch breakfast!”

“Alright then.” He answered instead, watching Hizashi march down the stairs and calling to one of the cats cheerfully. Following him down, Kuni made a path to the kitchen where Aizawa was making coffee, leaning on the counter like he was about to collapse.

“Kyosuke. Morning.” The tired hero stated like common knowledge,( it was ). Kuni merely nodded, looking in the fridge idly before realizing he didn't need to eat.

Well. They're really getting to me, huh?

..I wonder if Teyyvat food works here as healing properties.

Grabbing an apple, he brought it to the cutting board, fishing through the cabinets to find a knife.

“Left drawer to the sink.” Aizawa supplied, now sipping coffee. Lo and behold, in that drawer was a rather dull, slightly chipped knife, its plastic handle worn smooth with use. Kunikuzushi picked it up, weighing it in his hand. He shrugged, finding a strange, almost efficient in its plainness. He began to slice the apple into neat wedges, the crisp sound filling the quiet kitchen.

‘Quiet’ until Hizashi walked in with Tasukeru1 talking to the cat like she could understand.

“Hizashi, you’re giving Aizawa a headache.” Kunikuzushi sighed, putting the knife down and moving the cut apples to a bowl. Hizashi in question pouted, holding Tasu to boop Aizawa's arm, to which the man scoffed and pet the cat idly, drinking from his mug.

Kunikuzushi wasn't accustomed to honorifics like -san and -kun, but he often heard Shinsou refer to Aizawa as Sensei, and Hizashi as ‘Hizashi-san’ or Mic. Not like the two heroes minded, of course.

“So Kyosuke, what do you plan on doing today?” Aizawa inquired, looking over his mug when the blonde hero put Tasukeru on the floor, patting her rump and she pranced out the tiled kitchen contently.

Kunikuzushi inspected his apple wedge, humming decisively. “The library, I think.” He replied, eating the piece and walking from the counter. 

“Ooh, still studying? You're a hard worker!” Hizashi encouraged, puffing out a thumbs up that Kuni ignored. He's from the Akademiya as an entire representative, he really didn't need to study so much but the world had so many laws he was stuck on.. And he’d rather ignore this history. As interesting as it was..

“Thats good. Don't overwork it, I'm sure you’ll do great with all this practice.” Aizawa supplied instead, a bit calmer which Kuni simply appreciated. Hizashi, undeterred, nodded and got orange juice from the fridge as Kunikuzushi sat at the couch across in the living room. 

The two continued chatting, something about teaching (Kunikuzushi was glad it wasn't him they talked about) as Suwaru, or Ruru, purred and slipped into his lap, just beneath the bowl of apples he held. Giving the cat a few test pets, he continued to eat and flicked through the ‘television’ channels. It was odd, the images rippling to life. 

He learned quickly that this world had many elements Teyvat didn't, and tried his best to adapt. (He still got scared of the sounds washing machines made.) Looking as the news played, it appeared that 8 months ago, before he had arrived, two boys had been caught up in a ‘sludge villain’ attack. The overall rescue had taken much too long for Kunikuzushi’s taste. They were still talking about news from so long ago? If it involved All Might, the public would keep it rerunning for years, wouldn't they?

Kuni let out a sigh,  Eight months. They were still replaying footage of a bizarre, formless entity attacking two children, and the ensuing chaos. 

It wasn't the heroic intervention that bothered him, heroes, in his experience, were often a mixed bag of competence and self-interest. But the public's insatiable appetite.. He had seen enough public demonstrations of power in Inazuma, enough carefully made narratives from the Shogunate, to recognize the subtle manipulation at play here. This ‘All Might’ was a symbol of peace sure, but someone had to be pulling strings to keep him like that. If the man harmed a civilian or killed off a villain, what of it? 

They had to be doing something. If he was truly as powerful as they claimed, why did such incidents even occur? The thought soured the crisp apple in his mouth.

Oh well, I’m not trying to reform this world completely. 

All he knew was something big was going down. 

And at the center, was All Might. He needed to be as close as he could to help this world not end in doom, under the right orders.

Kunikuzushi faintly wonders why Celestia hadn't sent the archons, being ‘all-powerful’ and that. Perhaps they were busy with their nations. What of Barbatos? Or, gods forbid, Beezlebulb.

(Somewhere in this world, Barbatos sneezed so loudly that someone on the street asked if he was doing okay.)

. . .

Four Months Before

“Ouch..” The boy muttered, rubbing his head after collecting himself.

Venti found himself laying on the harsh floor of a gazebo, and after he sat up his head throbbed and pulsed like he’d fell thousands of feet-

Accepting this task better not turn out to be a drag.

Letting the wind embrace him and unfurl, Venti stood up and dusted himself off, watching his lyre a few feet away dissolve into anemo and reappear in his hands as the Der Himmel. 

Stepping out of the gazebo, he followed the path with a raised chin, watching the trees sway.

Strumming softly as he walked, he hummed along to an old Monstadt tune, walking through the path and pausing at some disturbed side. The wind blew a piece of paper hidden in the grass, flying itself into his grasp-

A grin broke Venti’s face.

Signed on the paper,

Hat Guy.

Bingo, likely an Akademiya worksheet but Venti didn't bother to read much more, pocketing it

Continuing up the manmade path and out, he looked into the dark starry night. The large moon- but no Celestia faintly shadowing. Now that was new.

It was very late at night; in fact, he didn't see anyone walking around anymore. Billboards were large and decorated, the bright lights illuminating the streets enough to render the lampposts useless. 

Venti then heard something completely unpredicted.

What is a 500 year old to say? If the goal was to help the societ-..

And when Venti hears prayer in the wind, the only thing to do is help! Closing his eyes to configure the source- a building and private, almost windproof, room with three living beings. 

“16.” He whispered, letting the wind do the rest. Venti then let his lyre disperse and sighed, walking again on the hard rock by a blackened rock strait.

Now then, what to do? 

He could wait for morning and find the anemo user- Hat guy, he assumed- or give the boy time to adjust. Finding the second option more adequate after some not-so-considerate thinking, Venti soon found himself traipsing freely, exploring the new and very advanced city. He picked up magazines from stands, slipping extra things from stores (legally..?) to read. He found nothing in Monstadtian, but everything looked vaguely Inazuman.

Venti found his way into a well-lit plaza, settling on a bench overlooking some shrubbery on raised concrete. Not quite good Mother Nature, but he put his feet up on the bench and looked at the sky, closing his eyes.

‘Hello?’

‘Ah, Barbatos!’

____

Present time- Two months before Entrance Exams.

Kunikuzushi browsed racks of books- While this library wasn't like the House of Daena, it was quite a good source for this world’s information.

Picking out a law book and other heroics, he brought the pair to a free table and flipped through unfamiliar chapters, settling on reading a quirk law.

Safe (for no one) to say he was pissed.

Either pay or go to jail for using a quirk. A birthright. 

Absolutely ridiculous, especially under attack. How would a civilian hail?

Kuni sighed, shutting the book with a hefty grumble. Pulling out the phone he was given just a few months ago, which he was still learning to use, Kuni opened the news app automatically.

It was good for getting a scope on things.

 A few uninteresting titles passed him- (including the stupid sludge villain attack from archon’s know how long ago) and a hero apparently taking a student under her wing, Midnight if he's not mistaken.

Kunikuzushi tapped the screen, sighing at the news of R-rated heroine's new lackey, unimpressed. Instead he scrolled around for more interesting content. Recently hes been invested in what Teyvat presents here, their view on his world. Most relevant articles were either old and full of rumors, or simply hate towards Tevyations. He did find a site for people interested in Tevat- even if most of the information was false, a few souls were still interested based on new articles posted every once in a while.

Something tingles in his body and he barely raises his head fast enough to greet a boy with an outstretched hand, seeming surprised at the sudden glare.

“Ah, sorry man! The library is closing soon and they asked me to let’cha know..” The boy with flat, black hair exclaimed quickly, embarrassed as he withdrew his hand and twiddled his thumbs. Closing? The library closed relatively close to night. Sensing Kunikuzushi’s confusion, the boy smiled reassuringly.

“Early close day. They're expanding the library’s east wing soon!”

That actually seemed productive. Kuni hummed contemplatively before pocketing his phone and picking the two books he had off the table.

“Thank you.” He responded simply, watching the boy before getting up to leave.

Kunikuzushi didn't even spare a glance as the boy walked alongside him. “Kirishima Eijiro by the way.” The boy half-mumbled with a flush as Wanderer took a moment to raise an eyebrow. “My name. My name is Kirishima..!” 

“Ah. right. Call me Kyosuke.” Kunikuzushi sighed, adjusting his books. He didn't like to refer to himself- or have others in that matter- as Kyosuke, the traveler’s name bestowed upon him.. But he couldn't help it if others called him that.

 It made the Traveller’s efforts worthwhile, afterall.

“No surname? Or is that the surname? Ah, sorry! That sounds super cool though, dude!” the boy- Kirishima- began with a smile. He obviously liked social interaction, but something about the raven haired boy irked Kuni.

“My first name. “ Kunikuzushi offered distantly, taking the walk to observe Kirishima. The uniform like many others he’d seen in the library, he vaguely recalls a private school.

Kirishima continues to chat, growing confident enough to rant as Kunikuzushi drops his books in a return bin, and they exit from the doors, leaving the fresh scent of books for a mustier scent of city- trash and gas. 

“Kirishima..-kun,” Kuni begins, remembering to add honorifics (something about ‘respect in Japan’ from Aizawa) stopping them at the entry of the library, “What school do you go to?”

Kirishima smiled at this, hand on his chest proudly for a moment before it faltered to something more nervous.

“Musutafu Private Middle School.”

===

Middle school.

How did Venti get here, standing in front of Aldera Middle School in a crowd of rowdy students awaiting the bell?

Earlier..

Venti was standing swaying, strumming his lyre for passerby and a small circus of children sitting in front of him in a park. He assumed he’d arrived much later than Hat guy, and for a month he.. Legally.. Charmed the local elderly couple into a free room. Obviously he didn't mooch, using money he earned performing to pay them back!

 Eyes closed, he began reciting an old song with soft chimes. 

“Who has seen the wind?” He begins in ask, a smile broke his face. “Niether I nor you: But when the leaves hang, trembling,” 

“The wind is passing through!”

Venti suddenly opened his eyes, strumming a moment more before reaching towards the sky.

“Who has seen the wind?” He sang, hand falling to reach towards the kids. One instinctively reached out, and Venti hummed with his eyes open to offer a kind wink.

“Niether I nor you: But when the trees bow down their heads..”

The wind slows, leaving the kids looking around or back to the bard. Fortunately, no adults have gathered, albeit a few parents watching from afar, as Venti bows and closes his eyes again with a final few strums, more melancholic-

“The wind is passing through.”

A small clap emerges before kids clap giddily, some run off, some stay and babble to the young bard who greets them with smiles. No parents seem too wary of him, but begin to stick closer when he interacts with the kids more indulgently.

A louder clap catches his attention, still smiling as he stands upright and turns, he spots a woman with dark flowing hair.

Then her outfit. Of Spandex.

“Eyes up here kid!” She chuckles, approaching with a wave. Parents this time seem more rapid to get their kids and Venti soon realizes why- This is R-Rated hero Midnight. He’s been here long enough to see the billboards and understand the gist of society here.

“Hello friend! Liked my performance?” Venti lets his lyre dissipate, ignoring both her comment and her intrigue at the lyre’s disappearance. 

“Yes, actually. You're quite the softie for kids! Your talent really is something.” Midnight responds with ease, hands on her hips in some comical pose.

“Youre a charmer! But I hope you know you can use your quirk unlicensed- or perform in public without permission.” Midnight continues with sympathy, watching his face for disappointment that did not arrive. Instead he grinned wider.

“Im well aware! Seems dumb that I can get fined for good entertainment, right?” He hummed, copying her pose. “And I don't know what ‘quirk’ usage you're talking about!”

Her face is impassive enough to seem unimpressed if not a bit empathetic, but her eyes scream curiosity- “Say kid, shouldn't you be home? Pretty sure School ended a couple hours ago.”

Venti scrunched his face up. He knew school was like Akademiya, but he rather disliked the thought of being confined to learning without many breaks. He faintly remembers Buer specifically reminding him through the mind link about her worries in the Akadmiya and how they learned so much in a day that their brains were probably crammed. 

“Im quite alright! Aren't you Pro Hero Midnight?” He deflected with a tilt of his head,

The heroine in question grinned wide, much different to her usual sultry expression. Many people knew her and didn't need to question if it really was her.

“Yes, that I am!” Midnight laughed, dropping into a more casual pose. “Its about time to get home, don't you think?”

He weighed his options. Humming as he cupped his chin, he simply gave a small smile back to her. 

“I don't have one.”

Her face dropped.

“Wait what?

The two end up walking along street lamp lit areas, after Venti told her he would only talk if she let them walk during it..

“So, you're homeless? Aren't you meant to be in a foster home?” Midnight inquired, still beating him with questions every time he attempted to answer one.

Also, rude? Homeless? He prefers free-willed and unconfined! About to voice his simple lifestyle, she continued without even breaking her rhythm,

“Should I be taking you to a CPS office? This is so outrageous. How have you not been caught yet?”

Yikes. Too many modern words. 

“I assure you my lifestyle is just right! Though please elaborate on the.. CPS?” Venti covered his confusion with a cough, smiling giddily like he wasn't technically a homeless moper.

A sigh escaped Midnight.

This was by far her longest shift ever.

It took only about 20 minutes of walking (and berating) for them to arrive at a tall, lean brick building. Midnight did not pause her one sided conversation when she held open the door, cold wind hitting him in drastic difference to the outdoor humidity. The temperature just caused him to stop in his steps a second, before continuing in the doorway. Winds change temperatures that quickly? Some kind of machinery.. This would fare well in places like Sumeru. He mused, unaware of Midnight's sympathetic stare in his back.

“Hello, can I help y- Pro hero Midnight?!” The receptionist looked up, a young blue-haired male who yelped and nearly shot from his chair if his coworker hadn't already bounded up.

“Midnight! This way please, what business do you have with CPS?” The coworker- a girl with a muted pink tone to her squealed, taking the heroine's arm, practically ignoring Venti other than side-stepping him to the hero.

He simply watched in amusement, Midnight may look like she was having fun but her tight lipped smile told him otherwise.

Venti let her suffer a moment more before piping up past the girls tugging on Midnight.

“Maam? Miss midnight here brought me for some kind of child rescue-from-the-good-ol-street service?” the bard smiled, ignoring Midnights look of surprise at how he said it. The girl blinked a couple times, before her coworker began from behind the desk.

“Right! What brings you here Midnight?.. TAKAMI BACK OFF HER!” The boy coughed, not so subtly whisper yelling as the girl, Takami, scurried off, down the hall.

===

R-rated hero Midnight, R-Rated  for a reason.. Was sitting with some girlish teenager in a CPS documenting office. Her original plan was to drop the interesting girl off- but more time spent with her proved useful.

“Michibiki* Venti.. I can't seem to find your file.” The woman who they had been led to hummed, skimming through a cabinet labeled “M”.

Venti in question cupped her chin. “Probably because I'm not in the system.”

Two heads snapped to look at her. Couldn't she have led with that?! Midnight groaned internally. Twenty minutes off her life for that.

“O-oh!” Ms. Shizuke, the social worker, exclaimed and closed the file cabinet. Venti only smiled apologetically, 

“Michibiki, you do need papers to register, I'm afraid.” She continued after a moment, folding her hands as she sat across from them at the desk. Midnight was screaming in pain on the inside.

“Can I fill them out now?” Venti inquired with a cocked head, glancing at Midnight- (who shrugged back unhelpfully)

“Of course. Ms. Midnight, are you planning to register her in an orphanage or Foster systems?” Shizuke folded her hands, smile twitching subtly. “Its unlikely she’ll stay in any one system for long due to age.. You said 16 yes?” 

“Shes 16 yes, but what do you mean?” Midnight didn't make a move to grab the papers, seeing Venti leaned back and crossing her legs on the comfortable plush armchair. 

“Well, she’ll age out of the system at 18.”

“Bullshit.”

Venti seemed to watch with amusement as they went back and forth about the aging out of system laws. Eventually though, Midnight settled with a scoff, looking at Venti. 

“Youre gonna be an intern at my agency. You don't need some stupid system.”

“...she still needs to register to-”

Midnight groaned into her hands, to which Shizuke’s eye twitched in prime annoyance.

Safe to say Ms. Shizuke was tired of them. She slid the registry forms over and left the office for their ‘peace’. (The heroine spotted her making a beeline for the breakroom coffee machine.)

“Well.. Your one interesting kid.” Midnight commented as she took the paper to begin filling it out. Venti giggled in response, watching over her shoulder.

It was actually quite peaceful, she just hoped she wasn't making a mistake letting some kid into her agency, she just hated this stupid system and- 

“You messed up here.” She remarked from over the hero’s shoulder. Midnight glanced at the form labeled ‘sex’ and Female.

…

Approximately two hours later and a pack of papers and files in Midnight’s hands later..

===

Venti felt overly amused when Midnight took every chance to spit apologies as they walked out of the CPS building. 

The new guardian acquired.. it may delay his plans but time was usually on his side.

The main root of his problems; the unknown.

Something about the ley lines leaking into the realm and sparking too much interest in a long-ancient ‘villian’..

Thankfully Midnight is faithfully ignorant, and easy to win over. 

“So miss Nemuri,” He began, humming. She had given her name, after reintroducing herself apart from her hero persona (an odd stature,), “You said UA’s school year will begin soon?”

She smiled, holding up two fingers animatedly. “Yep! Two months. Are you shooting for the big school?” The heroine then puffed her chest proudly, "I'm teaching there this year!”

Ah, advantages. 

“Wow, that's amazing!”

That's good.

 “Ive been training all my life to be my own hero, maybe I’ll apply..” He feigned innocent cluelessness, looking down the street. Venti could feel her gaze on him, contemplating-

Nemuri’s hand landed on his shoulder, drawing his gaze back. 

“Alright, Michibiki*! I can get you into a special exam for UA- you're just gonna have to prove to me you're worth it!” Her enthusiastic announcement drew satisfaction from him- only letting excitement show on his face as he spun on his heel to grasp her hands. 

“Really? Thank you, thank you my lady!” 

That was easy. He mused, watching as she began planning as they walked. 

Hmm, Hat Guy..

‘’

Nahida’s hands folded as she watched Barbatos descend from the large stem window in her room, smiling further when he grinned widely-

“Buer! Good to see you, fit as a dragon.” Barbatos exclaimed, entering without fanfare, only sweeping up his wings to sit properly in front of her on the floor, kneeling on a mat.

“Barbatos. Glad to know you’ve yet to change.” Buer greeted him commitedly, watching his face flicker in somewhat melancholy pride. 

“Yes. Any reason for the call?” He continued- straight to business. After the Ley line disruption and the call the archons heard from Celestia, there's been quite a leaf of tenseness. In fact, the moment after, nearly all the Archons connected to a matrix of communication.

“Right. You began the communication when Celestia called, but I assume you weren't aware why we were notified. I recently noticed some Ley Line ruptures and sensed new stems sprouting-” Normally not alarming news, but her tone dropped into a quiet tone suggesting otherwise. “..Not here, though. In Teyvat i mean.”

“..Earth is trying to bring us back.”

‘’

With a heaving sigh, he recalled all he could from the little goddess- Hat guy, who adopted too many names for Venti to remember, was a puppet of Ei’s and erased from Irisumul. Buer went through the trouble to get him the information on this puppet solely for this little mission- 

But what do they look like?!

He was snapped out of his thoughts when Midnight’s rambling became slower.

“Your outfit though, is pretty abnormal around here.” She was saying, as if her skin tight and eye catching outfit wasn't on display. Come to think, the people in the streets did tend to wear less.. 

Midnight caught onto his silence with a smile. “So that means shopping! Oh the malls around here..!”

Oh god, changing out of the bard attire? He was versatile to disguise but he’s SEEN the kids around here!

-”..And you’ll need to apply for middle school here, to get into UA.” She finished with a flourish, scrambling to grab the folder before any papers fell out.

..middle school?

Crap.

Present

..Ah right. That's how Venti got here-

Here faintly recalled the crocodile tears he threatened Midnight with, but she hadn't budged. Thankfully he had a week to prepare, getting used to everything (and picking up information in the wind) while getting used to Midnight's home. She was drastically different out of public.. And possibly terribly gullible for letting him into her life so easily.

Venti picked at the collar of his uniform- the standard black it seemed, feeling empty without his doll-up  and hat. Adjusting his bag’s strap, he walked towards an emptier part of the courtyard to await the bell- 20 minutes.

..”Got it nerd?” Someone was snickering from afar, just barely catching the little breeze. Venti perked up, and around the corner of the building stood two boys towering over a green haired boy. Cowering.

Venti walks to the source and peers around the corner tentatively. It didn't take long for one to stop sneering and notice him.

“Hey girl, what the hell are you doing? Trying to be like him?” The black haired boy shouted, nudging the boy on the floor with the toe of his shoe. Venti narrowed his eyes but sighed quietly, stepping around the corner. 

“Well, what are you doing to the poor boy?” Venti inquired sweetly, not moving forward but rocking on his heels with his hands clasped behind his back. The green haired boy looked shocked, still shrunk in on himself against the wall. The boy’s accomplice paused to watch, looking mildly irritated much like the bully beside him.

“You new or something? He's a quirkless freak.” 

Quirkless?

Venti only smiled wider, unwavering as he glanced more thoroughly at the injured boy.

He offered a hand, ignoring the shock from both parties. 

“Y-you're helping me?!” The boy shrieked, followed by the other boy’s “You're helping him?!” of either disbelief or irritation. Ignoring the protests, Venti hauled the boy to his feet. 

“What's your name?” He smiled, extending his hand to shake. The green-haired boy buffered, glancing awkwardly towards the two bullies, before taking his hand hesitantly. “Im Midoriya Izuku..” He muttered, surprisingly without stuttering.

Venti let go and turned on his heel to face the two boys from before, hands on his hips. 

“Well then, leave Midoriya alone!” 

The two bullies looked completely floored, gaping at the ‘girl’ who stood up against them for a quirkless boy. 

“Are you stupid? He’s quirkless!” The black haired one emphasized, trying to step past Venti to grab Midoriya, only to be intercepted by the aforementioned boy with a cold glare, somehow managing to smile nonetheless.

“I said leave him alone.”  

“Yoko-kun, let's get outta here!” The other scolded, grabbing his friend, Yoko,’s arm and running off with Yoko stumbling after, seeming irritated.

..After a moment of silence, Izuku- no, Midoriya- came to his senses and began bowing profusely.

“Thank you so so so much, thank you..!” He trailed off, almost tipping over as he tried to recall Venti's own name.

“Venti.” He supplied, smiling breezily again and taking Midoriya’s hand to shake instead. “And it was no problem, my pleasure really!”

“..but I am new. Can you help me?” Venti scratched the back of his neck in faux foolishness as if suddenly embarrassed. Watching Midoriya’s eyes light up and nod though, he felt just a tad better. 

“Of course!”

…Perhaps it was just Venti, but sprinting to class was not what he meant by help. The bell rang the moment they stepped back into the courtyard, and Izuku had yelped, springing into action by catching up with the crowd of bodies entering school. It had taken Venti a moment before he ran, following the boy to class- fortunately, it was his homeroom as well, as luck would have it.

The teacher trailed in after the students as it turns out, shuffling through papers before bumping into Venti, who stood in the front of the room, awkwardly awaiting.

“Eh, in your seats!-” He looked up with a scowl, then blinked and sighed deeply. “Oh. New kid, right? Everyone, this is Michibiki Venti, please give him a warm welcome.” The blonde teacher clad in a beige suit moved past him, not much fanfare, sitting at the teacher’s desk as some kids half-heartedly called out greetings.

Venti blinked at a boy with red eyes staring intensely, about to greet the class when the boy himself speaks.

“You a girl or a boy?” The spiky-haired boy questions, leaning back in his chair as a girl quietly gasps. 

“You can't just say that..!” She quickly spun around when the blonde tried to pinpoint the voice. 

“Oouh, can you guess?” Venti put a finger to his cheek, pulling a cheeky smile as he waited, catching a surprised expression from a good half of the front row.

“Michibiki, please hurry up so we can begin today’s lesson.” The teacher interrupted instead, to which Venti sighed. Buzzkill.

“Ugh.. It's nice to meet all of you!” He smiled anyway, shuffling to the free seat by Midoriya and offering a grin as he sat. (He ignored the few glances passed around at his choice, and the way Midoriya blanched out for a moment.)

Venti took the lesson time to silently observe the spectacle beside him, namely Midoriya Izuku.

The teacher droned on but Midoriya remained a bundle of on and off nerves, clenching something beneath the desk- which Venti spotted to be a grip trainer. Eventually, Midoriya glances over and catches his eye, flushing a furious red. 

“Ah-! Venti-kun, I just.. wanted to thank you again!” Midoriya whispered, offering a shaky smile that Venti returned. “Nobody has ever done that for me..” His eyes flicked to something ahead.

Venti spotted the blonde, spikey haired boy two rows ahead. The boy was slouched but still somehow held high, seemingly radiating confidence. A bully, really. The boy seemed a real work of.. Work. piece of work? He must be tired.

He’s met short tempered Pyro users, the occasional abrasive Electro-charged wielder.. But this boy was different from that. He was dense. Likely his quirk favored by the world around him, basically spoon feeding ego through every entry.

Venti retreated into his mind, staring at the back of one blonde head, laying his head on the desk.

,,

The air in the Sumeru Sanctuary is heavy.

“..Earth is trying to bring us back.”

Buer’s quiet statement sat, met with silence from Barbatos- in fact, fully still before her, was the movement-filled god, reduced to a stone still figure.

“The realm itself? Or a god? Are you certain the Earth is sentient?” Barbatos murmured, a rare note of gravity so hardly known in his voice. He even tapped his fingers to resume movement, fingers tapping in nervous tic across his forearm.

Buer shifted slightly, sitting back on her knees against the mat, folding her small hands in her lap. “Not ‘sentient’ in the way we think. It seems akin to some kind of highly complex ecosystem, like a self regulating organism. Similar to the Ley Lines in a way. As if the Ley Lines were the vascular system of the cosmos,” Buer tapped a hand on the table, a green-tinted visualization flattening across the round surface. “Teyvat’s Archons are the stability here, but Earth’s core is its own equivalent of Ley lines, supposedly. But, it ruptured. In its damage, it creates a vacuum- sucking the energy from our world from the trail we left behind by leaving Earth’s plane. It's pulling in the strongest elemental current from the nearest realm, which would be us.”

Barbatos nodded along to her information, mulling over the words. With his hand joining hers on the tabletop, a light blue wash pulled over the table as a new illusion formed. “So the ‘quirks’ of their world..” He mused, reaching understanding. The illusions along the table- a map, the Archons in statue form, the Earth’s dynamic insides, and a DNA model..

“..Are the physical and living pieces of energy that were repurposed from the Earth’s ecosystem. Which, in turn, created stability.” Buer confirmed, sighing as her wisdom was finally understood on its rawest level. “It's not perfect.. The Archons were called because the pull is.. Intensifying, to say the least.” Celestia’s warning had been a tug at the brains of Gods, likely to catch their attention. Morax and Beezlebulb had immediately gone ahead to catch the information, then after the Mind Link was disrupted they came back, likely scouring their nation’s information. 

“The Ley line ruptures here though.. To have our power spread to Earth could be bad. Hillichurls could spawn, and the rupture itself is manifesting in the energy overflow.” She continued with a hand drawing away, green illusions in the midst of a word- “AFO”- pausing and disappearing as she held her cheeks in her hands, deep in thought.

Barbatos cupped his chin. “You said that Celestia called Hat guy, how long ago? Two hours?” He received a nod. “He was a weapon erased, the Ley Lines don't exactly see him as natural to this world so he's been eyed by Celestia. I see..”

“Indeed.” Buer put her hand back on the table, sketching out a Ley Line, Earth, and a stick figure. Not the time to laugh, Barbatos reminded himself mentally. “If he can find the center of the leakage, he could potentially anchor himself and cause an instability that will separate them.” She leaned forward, taking his hand across the table with one small, pale hand. “Barbatos, your nature as the Anemo Archon makes you fluid and transplantable. The Archon of Freedom themself, the least tied to any specific location or form.” She was pleading, he realized. “You need to investigate. I couldn't stop Kyosuke because of Celestia herself but-” She looked down, frowning, he was sure.

“But I can help him.” Barbatos finished, adding on a fond sigh as he held her hand with both of his.

“Ive tried my best to inform your winds. They quite the beings of mischief. If you ever need help, do not hesitate to Mind Link when you're on Earth.”

“The rest is up to the winds.”

‘’

Venti sighed, returning his attention to the beige suited teacher, who was currently droning on about algebra. Lifting his head from the desk, he found himself looking out the window.

Hat guy has the grace to at least blend in, Venti mused, suppressing a grin. She clearly hasn't seen the fashion sense of these youths here. He would stick out like a Seelie among Kitsunes.

Venti had two resources now. Nemuri Kayama was his path to UA, which is likely where Hat guy is heading if Nahida was correct. 

Two, walking, talking, archive of information, one Midoriya Izuku. His plan, to get closer to the boy. It wouldn't be hard, seeing that Midoriya likely had no friends or supporters, maybe a family member, but it would be relatively easy to enter his social circle. If there even was one.

He looked from the window to the front when the students around him suddenly began packing, hurriedly sitting up. Midoriya looked at him sympathetically, offering Venti’s bag off the floor. 

“Second period.” The boy smiled, waiting nervously beside his desk, as if he half expected a hilluchurl to jump from the window.

“Tell me, who's the blonde boy?” Venti asked the moment they were walking, noting how many made an open circle around the blonde boy in the halls. Midoriya nearly leaped he muses, eyes wide as he clasps his hands together, voice embarrassingly adoring. 

“Kacchan? His name is really Bakugou Katsuki, but his quirk is really strong! He can create nitroglycerin sweat from his palms and detonate it on command! Explosion type quirk, perfect for combat! He’s been ranked as one of the most promising students since Primary school.” Midoariya took a breath from his rant, eyes sparkling. “Hes definitely getting into UA!”

Venti hummed, noting the similarity to Pyro. Explosions, while volatile, could be controlled. It sort of reminded him of Klee’s explosions, except there was no vessel or timer for it.. If he needed sweat, would he be bad against a cold-type opponent like a Cyro user?

“And you, Midoriya?” He smiled, asking out of genuine curiosity from the earlier ‘quirkless’ encounter. If Midoriya aimed for UA too.. Someone as hotheaded as Bakugou could make things messy.

To that, Midoriya froze, almost faltering midstep if not for the constant buzz of bodies walking past and around. “Oh- me?” He mumbled, looking down at his violently red shoes. “Im quirkless.. But I’ve always wanted to be a hero at UA.”

He tilted his head, letting his eyes trace the boy's form in thought. Venti knew the boy had no elemental signature, no glow visible or sensible to Elemental sight or borrowed energy. Nonetheless, he feels that longing and passion inside this boy's heart. Like Geo. Determined.

“Ah.” He replied airly, clapping his hand on Midoriya’s shoulder, ignoring the flinch. “Youre rare then! A pure, undeterred foundation for freedom! Your going to be a great hero!”

Midoriya looked at him bewildered, but intact enough to nudge them to a classroom door, to which Venti followed him in. “A-a great hero..?”

Before Venti could reply, a loud snort followed his words. “Who the hell thinks the likes of you can be a hero, Deku?” 

Venti narrowed his eyes, expecting one of the boys he met in the alley earlier. While the boys were there, they lingered behind the voice- Bakugou, the wielder of this confident and mocking voice. Midoriya shrunk beside him, trying to shuffle past to one of the work table for the Science class. How unfortunate to have this class with his bullies- how had it been before Venti came?

“Oi, answer me damn it.” Bakugou scoffed, popping a small, controlled explosion in his palm. 

“Ohayo, Kacchan-kun!” Venti smiled, putting an arm around Midoriya’s shoulders and hearing the muffled yelp of surprise. “Couldnt you be less harsh? Gee, what kind of hero are you, putting people down like that~” How cruel. 

Bakugou snarled, stomping closer to which Venti giggled and pushed Midoriya from behind to a random lab table. The teacher clapped before Bakugou could even shout or screech, or whatever he was going to say. Midoriya muffled a whimper, sinking into his seat.

Venti shrugged, looking ahead as the teacher, a woman in a white coat and neat bun, began explaining the lesson plan.

What a drag..

___

Present day

Kunikuzushi detested the rain, especially without his hat. Not simply disliked- He had once been used to the gloomy rain in Inazuma, the occasional drizzle in Sumeru against the constant sun.. But without his hat in it all..

An hour after he had begun walking back to the apartments, rain began falling. He drew the hoodie over his head. Somehow, despite the rain, everything was still bright and relentless against his eyes, assaulting his senses even. The heat, too! The heat was terrible in Sumeru but here, it was humid at best, the worst kind. A hot, sticky wet that felt like sweat coating him.

Kuni ducked into the nearest convenience store, sighing as he pulled his hands from his pockets, strolling among the aisles as if he weren't just relishing in their ‘air conditioning’. Idly though, he grabbed an ice cream from one of the coolers, taking it to the counter to pay. Pulling out some yen Aizawa had lended him, Kuni found the icecream a good distraction.

‘Quirks’. How absurd. Poorly biological, most of these quirks he’s seen were terribly efficient. He’d seen people stretch like rubber bands, varied mutations, even one unfortunate soul with a lightbulb for a head. 

He sighed, dropping the wrapper of his ice cream in the bin on his way out, pushing the door open back into the rain, now only a drizzle.

Oh how he missed his original outfit.

===

Oh how I feel you, Hat guy.

Recently, Venti’s been hearing more of Hat Guy. Perhaps they were closer in distance now. 

However, being Midnight's lackey.. Venti shifted his gaze from the woman who had her foot on the desk, cheering for an intern practically cowering before here from nerves.

Yeesh.. I hope he’s doing better than me. 

After all, entrance exams are in a month!

Chapter Text

Sorry for the delay! I actually fell super sick recently and lost my voice, but Im already about 6k words deep into the next chapter; i might post a filler chapter if you guys want, Id love some ideas you can comment🫶 Ill delete this chapter likely once i choose something to write, and ill get back on the entrance exams when im better!! 

thanks so much for the patience, and im happy to inform that the next (actual) chapter will be out very soon!