Chapter Text
Kris was laughing maniacally. No... it wasn't Kris anymore. It was Bill Cipher, and the entire omniverse was mere moments away from falling completely under his control. The pitch-black, sparkly suit he wore glittered like a dying galaxy, a twisted testament to his triumph.
How did it ever end up like this?
It had been almost a year since leaving Hometown. A year defined by one possession after another. Poisons, desperate survival, sailing treacherous seas, and angering literal gods. All the friends they had made along the way now stood absolutely no chance. And the worst part? Having to watch him destroy every single one of them.
Let's start from the very beginning, shall we? Just to understand how everything fell apart.
…..
It's so cold here…
…..
Kris walked through the streets of Hometown. The silence was deafening, pressing against their ears like a heavy weight. No cars drove by; no neighbors waved from their lawns. The town felt entirely abandoned, a ghost town trapped in amber.
Both Susie and Noelle were off doing something together, completely unreachable. Berdly was cooped up inside the library, likely studying or bragging to himself. Ralsei was trapped in the Dark World, far beyond reach, and the school doors were locked tight for the day. There was absolutely nothing to do.
Left with no other choice, Kris dragged their feet back home. The floorboards creaked under their boots as they walked up the stairs to their room. As they closed the door, a sudden, familiar urge overcame them. With a sharp, practiced motion, Kris plunged their hand into their chest and ripped out their glowing red SOUL, seeking a brief moment of respite from the external influence.
But as they held it in the dim light, they froze. The SOUL was different this time. Static hummed around the edges of the heart, and the red glow flickered unsteadily, shifting out of alignment like a corrupted data file. Kris stared at it, a wave of apathy washing over them, and ultimately shoved the thought aside.
Disturbed by its erratic behavior, Kris marched over to the mini-fridge, grabbed a carton of milk, and splashed the cold liquid onto the glowing heart. They watched the droplets bead up against its magical surface, trying to ground themselves.
Suddenly, their phone buzzed in their pocket. It was a text from Noelle: “Susie and I are at the lake, do you wanna join? :3 ps: i need those flirting tips you promised me”
Not wanting to miss out on their friends, Kris sighed. They carefully placed the glitching SOUL back into their chest, enduring the strange, buzzing hum of reconnection, and headed out toward the lake.
The sun beat down on the water as Kris approached.
"Heyyyy Dude!! Watcha thinking about?" Susie yelled. Before Kris could even process the question, Susie playfully bumped a cold ice pop against their face.
"Susie, be nice!" Noelle chided, nervously fluttering her hands.
Kris took a bite of the popsicle. A wave of regret instantly hit their tongue; it was a poorly made artificial grape flavor bitter, cloying, and altogether unpleasant. Still, Kris kept a straight face.
"Heh... nice," Susie chuckled, watching them.
"So... anything interesting happened today, Kris?" Noelle asked softly, leaning forward.
Before Kris could open their mouth to speak, a violent sensation tore through them. The glitching returned, but this time, it was far more intense.
The experience struck with overwhelming immediacy. Static coursed through Kris’s limbs, seizing their body in a flood of tingling numbness while invisible currents rewrote their flesh at a molecular level. A blinding flash of white noise detonated behind their eyes, obliterating clarity. Each sense was assaulted: the sharp tang of ozone invaded their nostrils, their skin prickled with cold electricity, and a sour taste clung to their tongue as if they had bitten through a live wire.
Their vision fractured into jagged, kaleidoscopic pixels, shattering the serene lake scenery into shards of color. An immense pressure wrenched at their mind, pulling their consciousness apart as if a dozen unseen hands were dragging them through a vortex of digital interference. Kris attempted to cry out, but the glitch clenched around their throat, transforming their voice into a strangled, metallic rasp.
"Kris!!? KRIS!!!" both Susie and Noelle shouted, their faces twisting with panic.
Kris reached out a hand, but their image flickered like a dying lightbulb. The world spun. The roaring sound of static filled their mind, drowning out their friends' voices until…
…the shouting stopped entirely.
The overwhelming pressure vanished, replaced by the weightless sensation of falling. Kris opened their eyes and realized they were plummeting from a great height. The familiar trees of Hometown were gone. Instead, a massive, sprawling cityscape of towering skyscrapers rushed up to meet them.
Before they could hit the pavement, a blur of red intercepted them in mid-air. Strong arms caught them, slowing their descent until they landed safely on a rooftop.
"You okay!!?" a voice asked.
Kris blinked, staggering as they stood up. They suddenly gasped, realizing something unexpected: the heavy, suffocating sensation of being guided by an external force was gone. For the first time, they felt complete, absolute control over their own body.
"My name is Hawks," the man said, adjusting a pair of yellow headphones. Large, magnificent red feathers extended from his back. He looked Kris up and down, noting their unusual appearance. "Where did you come from?"
Kris swallowed hard, their voice shaking. Thinking of a place from their world's stories, they replied, "I come from... Boston."
Hawks scratched his head, looking completely baffled. "...How did you fall from the clouds? Boston isn't exactly in the sky."
Kris stared down at their trembling hands, a numb disbelief settling in as the truth began to register. The violent glitching hadn't just distorted their perception it had wrenched them out of their universe entirely. A sharp pang of desperation flickered across their eyes. They were separated from Susie and Noelle. Somehow, they had to find a way back.
Desperate, Kris tried to force the sensation to return. They clenched their fists, trying to trigger the glitching again, hoping for the spark that would open another path home. But nothing happened. The SOUL inside them remained perfectly still.
Hawks watched them closely, noticing their distress. "...You good, Kris? You're looking a little pale." He sighed, tapping his chin. "Look, let me take you to UA High School. There are people there who specialize in unique abilities and unusual circumstances. They should be able to help you figure out what happened."
Kris quietly followed Hawks through the bustling, unfamiliar streets, trying to make sense of the towering buildings and flashing neon signs. The air felt completely different here heavy with the scent of unfamiliar foods and the constant hum of a massive crowd.
Unable to contain their confusion any longer, Kris spoke up, their voice barely a whisper against the city noise. "So… what is this place?"
Hawks glanced back over his shoulder, a casual smile playing on his face as his large crimson wings gave a relaxed flutter. "It's Musutafu… Japan."
"JAPAN!!!?" Kris blurted out.
For the first time since they had arrived, their usually expressionless, stoic facade completely shattered. Wide-eyed shock took over, but the sudden spike of adrenaline triggered something dark and unstable inside them.
The air around Kris began to warp. Sharp, pixelated tears rippled through the space right around their body, flickering wildly between reality and static. They braced themselves, expecting to be violently ripped away again. Instead, the universe stayed put, but a sharp, agonizing static pain shot straight through their chest. They stumbled forward, clutching their heads as the glitching tore at their senses.
Hawks paused, his eyes narrowing with concern as he reached out a gloved hand to steady them. "Oh! Your quirk might’ve been overused…"
Kris leaned against a nearby wall, hacking violently. "....….Might…be.."
Quirks? Kris thought through the haze of pain. The word sounded deeply familiar. Then, a memory surfaced: Berdly ramming his face into his laptop screen, loudly ranting about an anime show he was completely obsessed with. What was the name of it again? My Hero... something? It would come to them eventually, but right now, the pain was too loud.
After a tense, quiet walk, the massive, H-shaped glass towers of UA High School loomed over them. But stepping through the threshold brought no relief.
The moment they walked through the front doors, a crowd of teachers, heroes, and staff swarmed them. Faces blurred together as a barrage of loud, urgent questions began to rain down.
"Where did you find them, Hawks?"
"Are they a villain spy?"
"What kind of quirk causes that spatial distortion?"
The sheer volume of the voices pressed in from all sides. Kris’s vision began to swim, and the static returned with a vengeance. The pixelated glitching flared up, harsher and louder this time, buzzing like an angry swarm of hornets. Their knees buckled, and their vision turned black around the edges.
"Oh heavens… You poor thing," a small, polite voice cut through the chaos.
The crowd immediately parted. Walking forward was a small, white, mouse-like creature wearing a pristine suit. Principal Nezu looked up at Kris with genuine sympathy. Recognizing the sheer exhaustion in the teenager's eyes, he raised a hand to dismiss the crowd and gently led Kris away from the chaotic lobby.
He brought them into a private conference room. The heavy door shut out the noise of the school, plunging the room into a deep, comforting silence. The lighting was soft, and the chairs were plush. Nezu hopped up onto a seat across from Kris, setting down a cool cup of water and a small, neatly wrapped snack on the table.
"So, could you just answer my questions truthfully?" Nezu asked, his voice calm and entirely unthreatening.
Kris took a slow sip of the water, feeling the static in their veins finally begin to settle. "Mhm," they nodded quietly.
"Where are you from, what's your full name, and who are your parents and their contact information?"
Kris stared at the tabletop, carefully assembling the words. "I am from Hometown, Boston. My full name is Krismas Dreemurr. And my parents are Toriel Dreemurr and Asgore Dreemurr. I... I have my mother's phone number. Can I call her?"
Nezu smiled warmly, tilting his head. "Sure! Also, I am Principal Nezu."
Kris reached into their pocket and pulled out their cell phone. The screen flickered to life, looking strangely retro compared to the technology they had seen on the streets of Musutafu. With trembling fingers, they dialed the familiar number for home, holding the plastic receiver tightly against their ear, praying to hear their mother's warm, comforting voice.
They waited. The call connected.
But there was no ringing.
The only thing echoing out of the speaker and into the quiet conference room was a harsh, agonizing wave of garbage noises, loud, rhythmic, mechanical static that offered no answers, only a cold emptiness.
Kris slowly lowered the phone, staring at the screen as the distorted audio faded into silence. "It must be broken," they whispered, though deep down, a sinking feeling told them the phone wasn't the problem at all.
"Well... we’ll run your information through our databases to get you home safely," Nezu said, his small paws resting together on the heavy wooden table as he flashed a polite, if slightly calculating, smile.
Kris nodded, though their eyes remained locked on the floorboards. The sterile air of the UA interrogation room felt heavy, and all they wanted was to be back in Hometown. With a final nod, the Principal of U.A. slipped off his chair and exited the room, the reinforced door clicking shut behind him.
Kris was alone again with their thoughts. They crossed their arms, a familiar, hollow numbness settling in their chest. How long had it been since they’d fallen? The world outside that door was loud, bright, and full of strangers with superpowers. It was vastly different from their quiet town.
Time seemed to stretch. The silence grew oppressive until the heavy click of the lock broke it. The door swung open, and Nezu marched back inside. But the Principal wasn’t alone. Trailing behind him were Hawks, his large crimson wings folded defensively, and a third figure a disheveled, weary-looking man wrapped in a specialized gray scarf, looking for all the world like he hadn't slept in a decade.
"Kid... we searched for your name everywhere. You... don't exist," the tired man said, stepping forward with a glare. He let out a heavy, exhausted sigh before crossing his arms, his dark, unruly hair falling around his eyes. "So tell us the truth. Who are you?"
Kris stared right at him, their expression unreadable. "I wasn't lying about who I am… Krismas Dreemurr."
The man scoffed. "Krismas?"
"It's a ridiculous name, I know that..." Kris muttered, shifting uncomfortably on the metal chair. "But it was way better than the name I was gonna get… Togore…"
"....heh," Hawks chuckled lightly, leaning against the cold wall. Despite the casual noise, the tension in the room skyrocketed. The hero's golden eyes darted between the Principal and the young human, his feathers shifting with a sharp, metallic rattle.
"They're telling the truth, Aizawa," Nezu said suddenly, breaking the silence.
The tired man, Aizawa, widened his eyes in disbelief. "...They are?"
"Midnight just confirmed it," Nezu explained, gesturing with a paw to the wall. "This room is hooked up to a lie detector, and we took a DNA sample from the water cup they drank from earlier."
...I knew the water was a trap, Kris thought, their expression souring into a look of sheer annoyance. They had known better than to trust the hospitality of a high-tech academy, but their throat had been too parched to resist.
Aizawa crossed his arms, staring at the strange teenager with a mix of suspicion and intrigue. "So the kid is telling the truth, even though there are no government records of them anywhere? Like they shouldn't even exist? No background? No registration?"
"Yup!" Nezu chirped, swinging his tiny paws excitedly. "Well, since they have no documentation, we can’t exactly send them on their way. Until we manage to contact their parents, you’re gonna be staying with…"
Nezu trailed off, taking a deliberate minute to think, tapping his paws against his chin. The silence in the room was deafening as they waited for the principal’s verdict. Finally, Nezu’s eyes lit up.
"Aizawa!"
"What?" Aizawa answered instantly, his voice dropping a warning octave.
"Huh?" Kris said right after, blinking in surprise.
"You're going to be staying with Aizawa!" Nezu repeated, entirely ignoring Aizawa's immediate look of dread. "Since you are completely off the grid and require supervision, it's only logical that an experienced U.A. faculty member takes you in. Pack your things, Krismas! Mr. Aizawa will be your temporary guardian."
Kris stared at the disheveled man. He looked like he barely had the energy to keep his own eyes open, let alone babysit a dimensionally displaced teenager. But frankly, it was better than sitting in this sterile box.
"I don't think that's " Kris was about to say, but Nezu had already slipped out through the slightly ajar door, leaving nothing but the faint clicking of his miniature paws and the echoing slam of the office door.
"Fuck," Kris muttered, crossing their arms as they glared at the empty space the principal had just occupied.
"He does this a lot," Aizawa said, letting out a deep, tired sigh. He rubbed his temples, already feeling the beginnings of a stress headache forming. He looked down at the newcomer, his gaze hardening slightly. "Well, Kid... I guess you're gonna be staying with me for a while. Though, what kind of last name is Dreemurr, anyway?"
"Hey!!! I have a perfectly good last name!" Kris snapped, their cheeks flushing a defensive, irritated red.
Aizawa just stared at them, unimpressed, not offering an apology. "Anyway," he continued, brushing past the outburst. "What is your... quirk?"
Kris blinked, the defiance draining from their face, replaced by genuine confusion. "I... umm... dunno? I can move fast…and I have a knife.”
The room went dead silent. Aizawa narrowed his eyes, his scarf shifting slightly around his neck as his voice dropped an octave. "The hell do you mean you don't know?"
"I dunno!!! It's just... stuff I can do!" Kris threw their hands up, their voice rising to match the absurdity of the situation.
"Ugh..." Aizawa pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering under his breath. "I better be getting paid triple for this."
Behind them, a sudden snort broke the tension. Kris spun around to stare at Hawks, who was leaning against the wall with his large, crimson wings folded tight, trying desperately to hold in a laugh.
"What?" Kris challenged.
Hawks just grinned, though his shoulders shook as he failed to contain his amusement. "Nothing, nothing. It's just... you two act exactly alike. The whole exhausted, 'done-with-the-world' vibe is uncanny."
Aizawa leveled an absolute death glare at the winged hero. "Shut your mouth."
"Be quiet," Kris added in perfect sync with the hero, crossing their arms and turning away with a huff.
Hawks let out a full, bright laugh, throwing his hands up in surrender. "Okay, okay! Message received. I'll just sit here and be quiet."
______________________________________________________________________________________
The heels of Aizawa’s boots clicked against the polished linoleum floor as he led Kris through the towering, sunlit corridors of UA High School. His yellow sleeping bag was slung carelessly over his shoulder, and his dark eyes scanned the empty hallway with his usual tired expression.
"This is the main campus building," Aizawa muttered, gesturing vaguely to the rows of classroom doors. He stopped and turned to look down at Kris. "Since you are not a student here, I don’t expect you to be wandering around this part of the grounds without supervision. Am I clear?"
Kris shifted uncomfortably under his sharp gaze, nodding slowly. "Hm..." they replied, keeping it brief.
Leaving the main building, Aizawa led them across the courtyard toward a massive, modern complex. "These are the student dorms," he explained, sliding open the heavy front doors to reveal a spacious common area. "Since your situation is temporary, we’ll provide you with a guest room."
"Ah… how kind," Kris murmured, genuinely surprised by the hospitality, though still feeling entirely out of place in a school full of heroes-in-training.
Aizawa paused at the base of the central staircase, rubbing the back of his neck. He looked at the clipboard in his hand, then back up at Kris, looking more tired than usual. "Which side do you want?"
Kris blinked, caught off guard. "Um… what?"
Aizawa sighed heavily, tapping the clipboard. "Well… your paperwork came back, and your gender was listed as… unknown. To be completely honest, looking at you, I can't tell what you are either. So… which side do you want? The girls' side, or the boys' side?"
Kris froze, a wave of awkwardness washing over them. "...Do I have to choose?"
"Sadly, yes," Aizawa replied, his tone firm but not unkind. "School regulations. Safety protocols. Pick one."
Kris stared at the two opposing hallways, their mind racing. ...Damn, they thought, weighing the options.
The girls' side is probably way cleaner and quieter, Kris reasoned internally, remembering the rumors about high school human boys. But my voice kinda sounds like a male… then again, if I go to the boys' side… it might still fit the voice, but my body is that of a female’s… minus the chest…… this whole thing is a mess.
They frowned, weighing the potential disasters of either choice. Eventually, a pragmatic solution came to mind. As long as I stay in my room… no one can really bother me. The answer is clear-cut.
Taking a quiet breath, Kris looked back up at the hero. "I’ll… take the male side."
"Okay then," Aizawa said without a shred of judgment, making a quick note on his clipboard. "Follow me."
Instead of heading straight to the rooms, Aizawa led Kris down a first-floor hallway, stopping outside a door painted a soft, cheerful color. "Before you unpack, there is someone you need to meet. This is the nursery. During school hours, you can spend your time here with Eri. It keeps you both out of trouble and safe."
Aizawa pushed the door open. The room was filled with colorful mats, toys, and a large wooden dresser in the corner.
For a moment, the room seemed empty. Then, a small patch of long, silver-white hair caught the light. A tiny horn peeked out, followed by a pair of wide, curious red eyes. Eri slowly poked her head out from behind the side of the dresser, clutching a small toy tightly to her chest.
"H…hello," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Kris blinked down at the small girl, a bit startled by her sudden appearance but instantly softening at her timid nature.
"...Hi?" Kris said, offering a small, awkward wave.
"Have fun," Aizawa muttered.
Before Kris could even turn around to protest, the teacher stepped backward into the hallway and slid the door shut with a soft click. The lock turned. Aizawa had completely abandoned them.
Kris stood rooted to the spot, the sudden silence in the room feeling incredibly heavy. They looked at Eri; Eri looked at Kris. The small girl shifted from behind the dresser, walking forward with tiny, hesitant steps. She looked at Kris's unusual clothes, then up at their face.
"...Do you like... playing dress up?" Eri asked, her voice incredibly soft and shy.
Kris's brain stalled out completely. They stared at the tiny girl, then at the pile of colorful costumes and oversized clothes in a nearby play basket.
"...What?" Kris said, their voice cracking slightly in sheer confusion.
An hour later, the door to the nursery clicked open. Hawks strolled into the room, sent by Aizawa to check on how the two were getting along.
"Hey kiddos, just checking in " Hawks started, but the words died in his throat.
He froze, his golden-brown eyes locking onto Kris. The teenager was currently sitting cross-legged on a play mat, utterly trapped in a bright pink, frilly princess dress that was at least two sizes too small.
"Pfft " Hawks clamped a hand over his mouth, his shoulders shaking instantly as he tried to suffocate a laugh.
Kris glared up at the Pro Hero with pure, unadulterated venom. "Not. A. Word."
"Sorry.. I just " Hawks couldn't hold it back anymore. He burst out laughing, leaning against the doorframe for support as his wings ruffled with amusement.
"Stupid…" Kris muttered under their breath, their face burning with embarrassment.
Determined to get revenge, Kris leaned over and whispered something low and conspiratorial into Eri’s ear. Eri listened intently, her eyes lighting up as a mischievous grin slowly spread across her face. She looked up at Hawks, matching Kris's sudden dark energy perfectly.
Hawks’s laughter instantly died out. A chill ran down his spine. "Wait No!"
Before the winged hero could turn and bolt, Kris moved with surprising speed. They grabbed Hawks by the hand, dragging him down to the floor.
….
Minutes later, Hawks was sitting uncomfortably on a tiny plastic chair, a miniature toy teacup perched precariously between his gloved fingers. Eri was happily pouring imaginary tea, completely delighted, while Kris sat across from him, still rocking the pink dress with a look of smug satisfaction.
The door clicked open yet again. Aizawa walked into the room, wondering what was taking Hawks so long. He stopped at the threshold, taking in the sight of his fellow hero playing a high-stakes tea party in a nursery. A slow, rare smirk crawled onto Aizawa's face.
He cleared his throat, deliberately trying to maintain a neutral expression. "Well… Kris, your room is finally ready. You can… get changed and head on out."
Kris stood up, the synthetic, plastic-like fabric of the formal dress rustling loudly in the otherwise quiet room. They gave Hawks one last triumphant look of disdain before turning their attention back to Aizawa.
"...Good."
Without another word, Kris shed the restrictive costume, returning to their normal, comforting attire. A few swift tugs brought them back into their favorite green sweater, the one with the single pale stripe across the chest, and their baggy brown pants. They pulled their boots on, adjusted their messy, dark bangs out of their eyes, and stepped out into the hallway to meet the Pro Hero.
"So," Aizawa began, his voice flat as they started walking down the U.A. dormitory corridor, "it took us a bit to set up your room, and the other students are dying to hear from us. The kid who fell from the sky…. No records, no ID."
Kris let out a soft, almost imperceptible scoff. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. The 'Krismas Dreemurr' situation is a complete mystery."
"...Yeah," Aizawa sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
He stopped in front of a heavy oak door at the very end of the hall. With a slow turn of the handle, he opened it to reveal the new living space.
"This is your room… don't cause trouble, and don't try anything weird. Got that?" Aizawa leveled a stern, quirk-activated glare at them.
"Yes, sir," Kris replied neutrally.
Kris stepped inside. The space was compact but meticulously arranged. More importantly, it had a distinct, clinical sharpness to it; it smelled overwhelmingly clean, like the furniture and floor had been recently wiped down with disinfecting alcohol.
Kris slowly paced the perimeter of the room, examining the barren desk, the empty dresser, and finally the polished vanity mirror bolted to the wall. They paused, their sharp, unreadable eyes narrowing slightly.
"...hm…"
Kris took one step forward, leaning their hands on the wooden edge of the vanity.
"...Why is there a microphone in here?"
Aizawa, who had been halfway through closing the door to leave, froze. His dark eyes widened in genuine shock. His brain raced, wondering how on earth this seemingly average kid had managed to spot a piece of surveillance equipment that was supposed to be completely hidden.
"...What do you mean? There's no microphone in here."
"...Yes, there is."
"...No, there isn't," Aizawa countered, folding his arms across his chest. He was a professional; he knew exactly where the agency had placed the bugs, and they were practically invisible.
Kris didn't bother arguing with words. Instead, they wordlessly raised their arm and pointed an unwavering finger directly at the center of the mirror.
"So what about it?" Kris asked, their tone flat but laced with dry amusement.
"Ugh." Aizawa let out a defeated, tired sigh. He walked into the room and stood right behind the teen.
Kris reached out, gripped the edges of the vanity mirror, and slid it smoothly across its tracks to reveal the back. Lo and behold, a small, black surveillance mic was taped discreetly to the frame.
Kris looked at the Pro Hero, meeting his intense glare with a cool, deadpan expression.
"So I ask again… why is there a mic?"
Aizawa didn't look away. If this kid had no records, was highly suspicious, and had fallen from nowhere, U.A. wasn't going to take any risks.
"...So in case you cause trouble, we know right away," Aizawa answered plainly, waiting to see if the teen would panic or lash out.
Kris simply stared at the little device for a long second, then dropped their hands and took a step back.
"…Hmph…" Kris gave a tiny, knowing nod. "I see."
"It's just a precaution," Aizawa said, his tone softening a fraction as he rubbed the back of his neck.
"I know that."
Aizawa gave a brief, tired nod. "Well… have a good night."
With that, Aizawa closed the door again, leaving Kris well and truly alone. Kris wasted no time, taking three heavy steps toward the door and twisting the lock into place.
...Hm.
Kris turned their full attention back to the hidden device. They leaned in, inspecting the little black square taped to the wall. To the untrained eye, it was just a transmitter, but Kris’s keen senses picked up the telltale, faint ticking of an internal alert system.
"This thing has an alarm attached to it... Hmm..."
With steady, calculated movements, the kind of practiced patience usually reserved for solving complex puzzles or outsmarting dungeon denizens, Kris plucked at the delicate wiring. Working almost on muscle memory, they snipped the tiny trigger wire, disabling the perimeter alarm, and flipped the switch that powered the listening mechanism off for good.
Finally... some peace.
Brushing their hands off, Kris walked over to the lone window. They unlatched the heavy sash and pushed it upward, letting the crisp evening breeze flow into the room to air out the heavy smell of chemicals.
They looked out over the sprawling, illuminated campus of UA High School, contrasting sharply with the dim, nostalgic glow of the small town they had left behind.
Kris turned away from the window and walked over to the bed, sitting down heavily on the edge. They stared at the floor, letting their mind drift as they reflected on the surreal events of the day. From falling through a fissure in the sky and suddenly being thrust into a world populated by heroes and superhuman quirks, to being interrogated and treated like a national security threat.
They wrapped their arms around their midsection, gripping the warm wool of their sweater, and leaned back against the headboard. It was going to be a very long, and very complicated stay.
“I wanna go back to Hometown…” Kris muttered into their pillows, the sheets scratchy and entirely too soft. Kris sat up on the edge of the bed for a minute, blinking at a poster across the room. My Hero Academia!!! That was the fucking anime Berdly never stopped talking about.
"Oh no..." Kris groaned. "Someone is gonna give me the hero speech."
How did I even get here? Kris stayed lying on the bed, feeling utterly exhausted. It felt like their bones were made of pure static. They looked down at their chest, their fingers trailing over the worn green fabric of their sweater. So... my SOUL... did this.
Kris hesitantly reached a hand into their chest and pulled their SOUL out. It sat hovering just above their palm. It was still semi-glitching, distorting at the edges like a bad television connection. It wasn't glowing its usual vibrant red, either. It was... dimmed. Blood-colored, but sluggish and hollow.
"Heh... so you can't control me... heheheh..." Kris whispered, their voice raspy in the quiet room. "That's what you get, you little shit... resetting and replaying all those moments, the good and the bad."
A series of chaotic memories flashed through their mind. Snowgrave. The terrifying chill of Noelle's magic. The Ferris wheel. The puppet strings. Spamton NEO. The Queen. All those moments.
"Good thing we ended on the pacifist timeline..." Kris muttered, watching the SOUL pulse weakly. "Ugh... I hate you. I hate you for existing. I hate-"
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Kris froze. The insult died on their tongue.
“Hello? ..Kris? Was it?”
It was a high, remarkably bright male voice, full of nervous energy. Kris hastily shoved the SOUL back into their chest. The familiar ache of a forced will washed over them, but the SOUL was too sluggish to fight back completely. Heh… you can’t control me anymore.
Kris slid off the mattress, their feet hitting the wooden floorboards, and walked over to pull the door open.
Standing in the doorway was a boy with unruly, emerald-green hair, a blindingly bright demeanor, and a pair of wide, earnest green eyes. He was wearing an oversized yellow hoodie that looked a little too big on his narrow frame.
"I’m Midoriya... You're Kris, right?" The green-haired boy smiled brightly, though his hands were practically vibrating with nerves. "Uhm, want some?"
He held out a small, chilled carton of chocolate milk.
Kris stared at the carton. "YES."
They snatched it from his hands, tearing open the little corner of the flap before practically inhaling the contents.
"It's been days since I've had this..." Kris muttered, wiping chocolate from their upper lip, though a tiny, rare flicker of genuine relief crossed their face.
Midoriya watched them with intense, analytical eyes. "So... tell me about yourself..."
"I fell from the sky," Kris interrupted flatly.
"No, no, no..." Midoriya stammered, frantically waving his hands as he stepped just slightly closer into the doorway. "Tell me about yourself. What your favorite color is... where you live... and who your family is! You know… to.. um.. break the ice!"
Kris looked at the boy like he had just grown a second head. "I just met you... and you expect me to tell you that?”
“....I mean ... .I was born in boston…my favorite color is red…and um…I like….chocloate- Wait..did the school send you to do this?” Kris said accusingly
“....Yeah….” Midoriya said sheepishly.
“Of course… Ugh… This day has been a headache…” Kris muttered, sitting back down onto the bed while rubbing their temples.
“...Wanna talk about it..?”
Kris’s annoyance flared. The moment it did, the static surged back to life. A sharp, localized ripple of pixelated energy tore through the space around them. Before Midoriya could even blink, reality hitched, and Kris was violently displaced, glitching two feet off the edge of the mattress and dropping hard onto the floorboards.
“SHIT…. Ugh… Ow…”
“Whoa!! What was that!?” Midoriya scrambled forward, wide-eyed with shock as he helped Kris back onto the bed.
“.....I dunno…. Ugh.”
“OH! Almost forgot, here are some clothes and some Yen… Me, Todoroki, and Mina are gonna take you shopping tomorrow,” Midoriya said, handing Kris a stack of folded, comfortable clothes and a small pouch of currency.
“.....I see…”
Stupid heroes and this weird anime world… Kris thought, staring at the money. Though I shouldn't talk. My world is pretty ridiculous, too.
“...Thanks for the clothing. Can you please leave me alone now?”
Midoriya, flushing with embarrassment, nodded quickly and backed out of the room. “Have a good night!”
“....You too, I guess..”
Once the door clicked shut, Kris let out a heavy sigh, tossing the clothes onto the desk.
“Ugh.. I don't even know what Susie and Noelle are doing. I hope they’re alright.”
Somewhere else, across a vast, fractured tear in the omniverse, it had started to rain heavily. The downpour lashed against the asphalt of Hometown, a place plunged into absolute panic.
“UNDYNE! Please… Please can you just help us!!!?” Susie shouted, slamming her fists on the police station desk. Beside her, Noelle paced frantically, tears streaming down her face as she clutched her phone, trying to explain the impossible to a hysterical Toriel.
“We are trying our best here!” Officer Undyne yelled back over the roaring thunder, running a hand through her drenched red hair. “A kid can't just teleport out of existence!”
“...Toriel is asking to do a whole-town search for them…. First.. Dess.. now Kris..” Noelle said, more tears running down her face.
“Kid.. this won't be like the December case… I promise… I won't rest until we find them,” Undyne said sternly, grabbing her police hat. She adjusted her grip, her expression hardening with resolve. “...Well? What are we waiting for? Gather everyone who can walk anyone and ask them to help us.”
Undyne marched out the door, her boots echoing against the station floor.
Susie nodded, and she and Noelle followed her out into the blinding downpour. Without a word, Susie pulled the edges of her jacket outward, using her own frame to shield Noelle from the worst of the driving rain.
Within minutes, the word had spread, and almost everyone in town was out braving the storm to search for Kris. Flashlights cut through the dark, rainy woods and streets.
Susie, Noelle, and Mayor Carol Holiday were assigned to search the area near the old bunker at the edge of town. The heavy shelter doors loomed before them, overgrown with vines and buried in shadow.
“...Shouldn't you two be… somewhere else?” Carol said, her voice sharp and authoritative even in the middle of a crisis.
Susie stepped up right next to Noelle, glaring back at the Mayor without a hint of hesitation.
“...Where Noelle goes, I go,” Susie said.
…
Meanwhile, wherever Kris was in the omniverse… they slept peacefully. Sort of. Their rest was uneasy, and their body kept glitching out every few hours, the sharp, pixelated static violently shaking them awake.
“...It hurts so much……. Even if I take the SOUL out.. the glitching still continues..”
They started to cough, a dry, raspy sound that rattled in their chest as the lingering numbness of the digital interference refused to fade. They looked over at the digital clock on the bedside table, its green numbers blurred slightly by the static in their vision.
“It's 6 am… Should be fine..”
…
A loud bang echoed through the campus, followed immediately by the blaring wail of the school's alarm system. Not even a minute later, Aizawa barged into Kris's room.
“Oh good… You're still here… Come on!! There's a villain attack.”
Kris stood up sluggishly, shaking off the morning's exhaustion, and followed Aizawa out into the chaotic hallway.
“...Huh? Where am I going?”
“You're going with Eri into a safe area… Since both of you aren't fit to fight.”
“Hey!! I am fit to fight ”
“And what hero school have you gone to?” Aizawa interrupted, not even looking back as he hurried down the corridor.
“...Zero.”
“Exactly. But in case the villains do find you… You'll have to be the one to protect yourself and Eri.”
“Right…”
Aizawa opened the heavy steel door to a secure underground bunker. Eri was already inside, with Present Mic sitting beside her and offering comforting words.
“Stay here… And don't even think about leaving,” Aizawa instructed firmly. With a final nod, both he and Mic stepped back out into the hallway, leaving Eri and Kris alone as the heavy door sealed shut.
“..You okay?” Kris asked quietly.
Eri nodded, though she immediately scrambled over and clutched onto Kris's green sweater for dear life.
“We’re… Going to be okay…” Kris said, looking around the room. Their eyes landed on a very small utility knife sitting on a nearby supply shelf.
“..Hm.. Oh!! Wait…” Kris reached into their own pocket and pulled out their personal, familiar knife instead, finding comfort in its weight.
“We'll be safe..” Kris said, though a sudden ripple of static pixelated the edges of their silhouette yet again.
Eri watched the strange light show with wide, worried eyes. “W..What happens if you overuse your quirk?”
“I just won’t use my... Quirk… Until it’s safe,” Kris replied, stowing the blade safely away as they waited out the storm.
The silence inside the bunker was absolute, a stark contrast to the distant, muffled thuds echoing from the surface. The air tasted stale, metallic, and heavy with tension.
Kris sat down on the cold floor, leaning their back against the reinforced wall. Eri stayed glued to their side, her tiny hands tightly bunching the fabric of Kris's green sweater. She was trembling, her wide red eyes fixed on the heavy vault door as if expecting it to burst open at any second.
"They're really loud out there," Eri whispered, her voice shaking. "The bad people."
Kris looked down at her, their expression softening beneath their messy bangs. They reached out, awkwardly but gently patting her shoulder. "Aizawa and the others are out there. They're tough. It'll be fine."
To prove their point, Kris tapped the handle of the knife tucked securely into their pocket. It wasn't a giant sword like the one they wielded in the Dark World, but its familiar weight was grounding. In a strange place full of superpowers, a simple, sharp edge was something they could actually rely on.
Suddenly, a sharp pang shot through Kris's chest. They gasped, instantly clutching their torso as a brilliant flash of blue and purple static rippled across their skin. The digital hum grew deafening in their ears, making their vision fracture into jagged, pixelated blocks. The room seemed to tilt sideways.
Eri shrank back slightly, gasping in surprise. "It's happening again! The sparks!"
Kris squeezed their eyes shut, forcing their breathing to slow down. They clamped down on the agonizing sensation, fighting the invisible current that threatened to pull them out of reality again. After a few agonizing seconds, the static receded, leaving only a dull, throbbing ache and the faint smell of ozone in the air.
Kris let out a ragged breath, wiping a bead of cold sweat from their forehead.
"Is... is your quirk hurting you?" Eri asked, her voice filled with genuine dread. She knew what it was like to have a power that felt like a curse, one that felt entirely out of control.
Kris looked at their hands, watching the very last of the digital lines fade back into their skin. They thought about the sluggish, glitched SOUL resting in their chest how it was currently too weak to force them to do anything, but still unstable enough to tear the world apart around them.
"It's just stubborn," Kris said flatly, keeping their tone calm for Eri's sake. "But I can manage it. As long as I don't force it, it stays put."
Eri looked at them for a long moment, then slowly leaned her head against Kris's arm, comforted by their quiet confidence. Together, the two of them sat in the dim light of the bunker, listening to the distant sounds of the academy defending itself, waiting for the all-clear.
“Hm… Wanna see something cool?” Kris said, trying to lighten the mood.
“...Sure?”
Kris reached into their chest and slowly pulled out their SOUL, letting it hover gently just above their palm.
“This is where my power comes from… Isn't it… beautiful?” Kris stumbled slightly on the word beautiful. Never in a million years did Kris actually think the glitched, troublesome entity was beautiful but they had to comfort Eri somehow.
Despite the flickering static around the edges, the heart pulsed with a soft, warm crimson light, casting a gentle glow across the dim concrete bunker.
Eri leaned in a little closer, her eyes reflecting the crimson light as the tension left her shoulders. “...It's very pretty.”
The soft crimson glow of the SOUL pulsed in the quiet of the bunker, casting long, dancing shadows against the concrete walls. For a moment, the distant, terrifying sounds of the surface faded away, replaced by the gentle, rhythmic hum of the heart hovering above Kris's palm.
Eri reached out a tiny, hesitant hand, her fingers stopping just an inch away from the light. She could feel a strange, comforting warmth radiating from it a contrast to the cold, clinical energy of the quirks she was used to. "It feels... warm," she whispered, a small, genuine smile finally breaking through her frightened expression. "Like a campfire."
"Yeah," Kris murmured, watching the way the red light played against the dark corners of the room. "It keeps things grounded."
In reality, Kris could feel the faint, familiar tug of the connection, the sluggish weight of the SOUL resting just outside their ribcage. It was still glitching, tiny pixelated fragments occasionally breaking away from the edges before snapping back into place, but right now, it was peaceful. It wasn't forcing them to walk, it wasn't making choices for them, and it wasn't tearing holes through the sky. For the first time, it was just a light in the dark.
Kris gently closed their fingers around the floating heart, letting the crimson glow seep through the cracks of their hand before guiding it back into their chest. A deep, settling breath left their lungs as the light vanished, returning the bunker to its dim, shadow-filled reality.
Eri blinked, looking a little disappointed that the light show was over, but the tight, trembling grip she had on Kris's sweater had loosened. She sat back on the mat, pulling her knees to her chest. "Thank you, Kris."
"Don't mention it," Kris said, adjusting their bangs. They leaned their head back against the wall, keeping one hand resting casually over their pocket where the knife was stowed. The danger outside hadn't passed yet, but inside the small concrete room, the silence finally felt a little less heavy.
Then, the world shattered.
A deafening, metallic screech echoed through the bunker as the massive steel vault door buckled inward. The heavy deadbolts groaned under an immense, unnatural force, throwing up a cloud of choking gray dust and concrete debris. Before Kris could even push Eri behind them, a second impact tore the door completely off its hinges, sending it crashing onto the floor with a bone-rattling thud.
Through the smoke, a towering, distorted silhouette stepped into the threshold. It wasn't Aizawa or Present Mic. It was a villain, their hands glowing with a volatile, pulsing energy that melted the reinforced steel frame like wax.
"Well, well," a grating voice hissed through the dust. "The underground hero thought he could hide his little prizes down here." a man with scars all over and burn marks
Eri let out a terrified shriek, completely freezing up as her old trauma rushed back to the surface.
Kris didn't hesitate. Adrenaline spiked through their veins, and the sudden shock triggered the worst possible reaction. The glitched SOUL inside their chest flared violently, but instead of the controlled warmth from moments before, it erupted into a jagged, agonizing wave of white noise.
ZZZZT.
The pixelated distortion didn't just ripple across Kris's skin this time it violently tore at the air around them. The extreme pain blinded their vision, and their legs buckled instantly. Kris fell to their knees, hacking and coughing as dark, static-laced tears fractured the space directly between them and the advancing villain.
They tried to reach for the knife in their pocket, but their limbs felt like lead, seizing up completely as the digital corruption locked their body in place. They were entirely defenseless, trapped in a glitching loop of agony, while the threat stepped closer.
“Eri!! You need to run!!! NOW!!! Forget about me!” Kris choked out, their voice scraping through the metallic static settling in their throat.
Terrified but driven by the sheer desperation in Kris's eyes, Eri scrambled to her feet and sprinted past the shattered doorway, running into the dark corridors to find help.
The villain took a step forward, completely focused on the strange, glitching teenager kneeling on the floor. Kris's vision swam, but they forced their eyes to scan the debris-strewn ground. Through the haze of pain and white noise, their eyes locked onto a heavy lead pipe that had been sheared off the wall when the door collapsed.
Kris closed their eyes and forced a deep, ragged breath into their lungs, desperately fighting to ground themselves and calm the agonizing glitching. The static around their limbs slowly receded just enough for them to move. With a sudden burst of adrenaline, Kris lunged forward and gripped the cold metal pipe, swinging it up into a defensive stance.
“Heh.”
A sickening smirk spread across the villain's face as a torrent of brilliant, crackling blue flames erupted from their palms, instantly superheating the stagnant air of the bunker.
“Oh shit ”
The intense heat singed the ends of Kris's hair as they threw themselves to the side. Moving purely on survival instinct, they dove across the concrete floor, narrowly dodging the inferno as the blue fire slammed into the wall behind them, leaving a scorched, molten crater where they had been standing a millisecond ago.
The blue flames roared, turning the concrete bunker into a claustrophobic furnace. The sheer heat radiated off the walls, making the air distort and shimmer.
Kris scrambled to their feet, their boots skidding slightly on the dust-covered floor. The lead pipe felt heavy in their hands, but the familiar grip gave them a baseline focus. They didn't have their shield, and they didn't have magic, but they had agility.
"A pipe?" the villain scoffed, their palms crackling with a fresh layer of azure fire. "You're just a quirkless brat!"
The villain thrust their hands forward, sending a concentrated wave of blue fire sweeping across the room. Kris didn't try to block it they knew the pipe would heat up and bake their hands instantly. Instead, they dropped low, sliding underneath the arc of the flames. The heat washed over their back, scorching the fibers of their green sweater, but they kept moving.
Coming out of the slide, Kris used the momentum to spring forward. They swung the lead pipe with a two-handed grip, aiming straight for the villain's knee.
CLANG!
The metal connected solidly with the villain's joint. The villain roared in pain, staggering back a step as their stance broke.
Kris didn't waste the opening. They brought the pipe back up, aiming a swift strike at the villain’s collarbone. But the villain was faster than they looked. Gritting their teeth through the pain, the villain lashed out with a backhand, their fist engulfed in an explosive burst of blue sparks.
The blast caught Kris square in the chest. The force threw them backward across the room, their back slamming hard against the reinforced concrete wall. The lead pipe clattered out of their grip, rolling away into the shadows.
Kris gasped, the wind completely knocked out of them. Every muscle in their torso screamed in protest.
"Useless," the villain spat, limping forward as the blue flames over their hands grew larger, casting an eerie, dancing light over the debris. "You're done."
As the villain raised their arms to deliver a finishing blow, a sudden, familiar sensation spiked right through Kris's core. The adrenaline and the sheer threat of survival triggered the SOUL.
ZZZZT.
The world didn't just hitch this time it fractured. Bright, jagged pixels of red and purple light exploded outward from Kris’s chest. The sudden surge of static didn't hit them with pain; instead, it responded to their desperation.
The villain paused, looking down in pure confusion as the space around Kris began to warp and tear like a corrupted video file.
Before the villain could unleash the fire, Kris's body glitched. In a split second of pure, accidental teleportation, their form flickered out of existence and reappeared two feet behind the villain.
The abrupt displacement left Kris disoriented, but their reflexes took over. They didn't have the pipe, but they still had their personal weapon. With a swift, fluid motion, Kris pulled the small, sharp knife from their pocket.
Using the villain's confusion against them, Kris lunged forward, planting a solid boot into the back of the villain's injured knee while bringing the blunt hilt of the knife down hard against the back of the villain's neck.
The combined force sent the villain crashing face-first into the floorboards, coughing into the dust as the blue flames in their hands sputtered and died out.
Kris stumbled back, gasping for air as the static around their limbs slowly dissolved into a dull hum. They held the knife tight, their eyes locked onto the downed threat, waiting to see if they would get back up.
“Ugh… my head,” Kris muttered, the final embers of adrenaline fading away. Their knees buckled, and they collapsed onto the concrete floor, though they forced their eyes to stay open, desperately clinging to consciousness.
Footsteps thundered down the stairwell. A split second later, a group of Pro Heroes and student heroes burst through the ruined threshold of the bunker, their eyes widening at the sight of the downed villain and the glitching teenager.
Hm… I'm safe… now… As the tension completely left Kris's body, the room began to spin, and the edges of their vision darkened into black. The voices of the heroes rushed over them, loud and distorted, frantically yelling their name over and over again as Kris finally let go and fell completely unconscious.
…
…
Kris woke up to the steady, rhythmic beep... beep... beep... of a heart monitor.
The harsh smell of disinfecting alcohol hit their nose first, instantly reminding them of the UA guest room, but the mattress beneath them was softer, clinical, and adjustable. They blinked, squinting against the bright fluorescent lights overhead until their eyes adjusted to a clean, white recovery room.
Sitting in a plastic chair by the bedside was Aizawa, his specialized scarf resting loosely around his neck and a fresh cup of coffee held in his hand. He looked, if possible, even more exhausted than usual.
"You're awake," Aizawa said, his voice a low, flat rumble. He set the coffee down on a small side table. "Recovery Girl patched up the burns and the bruising. You've got a high pain tolerance, kid. Most people would still be out cold after a spatial quirk backlash like that."
Kris shifted, a dull ache throbbing behind their eyes, but the heavy, suffocating static in their limbs had completely settled. "Where's... Eri?" they managed to ask, their throat dry.
"She's fine. Not a scratch on her," Aizawa replied, leaning back in his chair. "She found us in the corridor. By the time we got down to the bunker, you had already neutralized the threat. A support-course villain managed to slip past the perimeter using a sneak attack. They weren't expecting a kid with a pipe and a kitchen knife…the villain was named Dabi, he’s in questioning right now.."
Kris let out a faint, dry hmph, leaning their head back into the pillow.
The door to the recovery room slid open with a soft click. Midoriya peeked his head in, his green eyes lighting up with immense relief when he saw Kris sitting up. Right behind him, Hawks leaned against the doorframe, his large red wings slightly ruffled but a casual smile on his face.
"Kris! Oh thank goodness, you're okay!" Midoriya blurted out, stepping into the room. "The teachers told us what happened in the bunker. To protect Eri like that without a hero license, and with your quirk malfunctioning... It was incredibly brave!"
"Yeah, kiddo," Hawks chimed in, crossing his arms with a grin. "You've got some serious nerves. Though next time, maybe leave the heavy lifting to the pros before you accidentally delete yourself from reality."
Kris stared at the gathering crowd, their expression returning to its usual unreadable, deadpan state. The room was getting loud again, full of people talking about quirks, bravery, and heroics. It was everything Berdly used to ramble about, completely coming to life around them.
Deep down, a quiet, stubborn ache pulled at their chest not from the glitching, and not from the injuries. They just wanted the quiet streets of Hometown. They wanted the annoying, familiar banter of Susie, the soft scolding of Noelle, and the boring safety of their own bedroom.
But looking at Midoriya’s earnest smile, and the rare, approving nod Aizawa gave them from the corner of the room, Kris realized they weren't completely alone in the dark here.
"Hey," Kris said flatly, looking directly at Midoriya.
"Uh, yes?!" Midoriya blinked, coming to attention.
"Is there any more chocolate milk?”
“You woke up after being unconscious for 24 hours… and you want chocolate milk!?” Midoriya stammered, his green eyes wide with a mix of disbelief and sheer bewilderment.
“Yes??” Kris replied, their tone perfectly flat.
“You must rest,” Aizawa interrupted, his voice dropping an octave as he leveled a stern, parental glare at Midoriya and Hawks. Taking the hint, the winged hero gave a casual two-finger salute and backed out of the room, gently dragging a still-muttering Midoriya out by the hood of his sweatshirt. The door slid shut, plunging the recovery ward into a much-needed, quiet stillness.
Kris stared at the white sheets of the hospital bed for a long moment, the steady beep of the heart monitor filling the silence.
“Aizawa.. can I… tell you something?” Kris asked softly, their bangs casting a shadow over their eyes.
Aizawa paused, setting his coffee cup down on the tray table. He crossed his arms, his dark eyes narrowing slightly as he locked his gaze onto the teenager. He could hear the sudden shift in their voice the defensive, sarcastic armor they usually wore had completely slipped away.
“What is it, kid,” he said, his tone quiet but attentive.
“It.. may sound insane.. but.. can you keep it a secret….?”
”you’ve never said anything with that much uncertainty…so what is it?” Aizawa asked, his posture shifting as he leaned in closer, his intense gaze never leaving Kris's face.
“it sounds insane… and deranged..but I… am… from a different world.. entirely…” Kris confessed, their voice barely a whisper against the quiet hum of the room. They squeezed their eyes shut, the weight of the truth finally spilling out. “It sounds crazy, I know.. but… I don't have a quirk.. nor… anything.. I shouldn't… even exist here.”
Aizawa sat in absolute silence, his dark eyes fixed on Kris as the words hung in the sterile air of the recovery room. To anyone else, the claim would sound like the delusional rambling of a conciliated, traumatized kid. But Aizawa had seen enough bizarre, reality-bending quirks to know that the universe rarely adhered to common sense.
He thought back to the lie detector test, the complete lack of any government or DNA records, the retro cell phone that emitted nothing but garbage noise, and the terrifying, pixelated spatial tearing that followed the kid around. The pieces suddenly snapped into a bizarre, logical picture.
"A different world," Aizawa repeated slowly. He didn't scoff, and he didn't call for a psychiatrist. He simply rubbed the bridge of his nose, letting out a long, heavy sigh that seemed to carry the weight of his entire career. "Well. That certainly explains why your paperwork has been giving Nezu a migraine."
Kris looked up, their red eyes blinking through their messy dark bangs, caught off guard by the lack of immediate disbelief. "...You believe me?"
"I've seen people turn into gigantic dragons and manipulate time, kid. A localized dimensional displacement isn't the strangest thing I've encountered," Aizawa said, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. His expression remained hard, but his tone softened just a fraction. "And as for keeping it a secret... I won't broadcast it to the media or the students. But Nezu is going to have to know. If we're going to find a way to reverse whatever event dropped you into Musutafu, we need the Principal's resources."
Kris let out a breath they felt like they'd been holding since they fell from the sky, their shoulders finally dropping. "He's going to want to study me, isn't he?"
"Nezu is calculating, but he isn't cruel," Aizawa countered flatly. "You protected Eri today. In this world, that counts for something. We take care of our own, even the ones who technically shouldn't exist."
He stood up, the leather of his boots creaking quietly as he walked toward the door. He paused with his hand on the handle, looking back over his shoulder at the small, green-sweatered teenager swallowed up by the hospital bed.
"Get some rest, Krismas," Aizawa muttered. "Tomorrow, we will figure out how to get you home….And I'll see about that chocolate milk."
The door slid shut, leaving Kris alone with the quiet, rhythmic beeping of the monitor. For the first time since leaving Hometown, the static in their chest felt a little less heavy.
….
The next day, Kris was back in the integration room, sitting across from Nezu.
“So you glitched, and then you were falling out of the sky? That's what you're saying?” Nezu asked, tilting his head with his usual calm, analytical expression.
“That is exactly what I'm saying,” Kris replied, their voice flat as they leaned back against the chair.
“What if… we overload your glitching… so maybe.. it will make you go back?” Nezu suggested, his paws tapping thoughtfully against the wooden tabletop.
Kris stared at the principal, the memory of the agonizing white noise and the violent, pixelated tears flashing through their mind. They let out a slow, sharp breath. “I mean… it's worth a shot… but it's gonna hurt like hell.”
“Wait!!!”
Eri barged into the room, her small boots skidding on the floor as she rushed toward Kris's side. Present Mic followed right after her, completely bent over with his hands on his knees.
“..Sorry… She's super fast.. I… huff…” Mic was entirely out of breath, his usual loud voice reduced to a ragged wheeze.
Eri ignored the adults, focusing entirely on Kris. She reached out her small hands and held up a tiny, carefully crafted flower pin, offering it forward like a precious shield.
“Please come back soon..” she whispered, her large red eyes shining with a mix of sadness and hope.
Kris stared at the little pin resting in her palms. For a moment, it reminded them completely of the golden flowers back home in Asgore's shop. A rare, genuine softness broke through their stoic expression as they carefully took the pin and clipped it to the collar of their green sweater.
“Oh… Thank you,” Kris said quietly, offering her a small, reassuring nod.
….
“I'll try my best,” Kris said gently to Eri, giving the flower pin on their sweater a small tap.
“Okay.. Now everyone needs to leave!” Nezu announced, switching instantly back into his efficient, authoritative tone. He ushered Eri and a still-wheezing Present Mic out into the hallway, closing the heavy door behind them. The room grew stark and quiet once more.
Nezu stepped over to a control panel on the wall and picked up a heavy pair of over-ear headphones, handing them to Kris. “Okay Kris… Put on the headphones.”
“...Mhm,” Kris murmured, taking them. They were more than ready to go home. They placed the padded cups over their ears, blocking out the ambient sounds of the room.
Suddenly, a harsh, piercing blast of static noise erupted through the speakers.
It wasn't just loud; it was an erratic, unnatural frequency designed to clash directly with the strange energy in Kris's chest. Stressing out from the jarring noise, the glitching instantly appeared.
It was agonizing. Bright, jagged pixels tore at the edges of Kris's vision, and a wave of pure, white-hot friction ripped through their veins. The physical world around them began to stutter and tear like wet paper. It was hurting worse than the bunker, worse than the fall from the sky until, with a violent, deafening SNAP, the room vanished entirely.
They were falling again.
The wind rushed past Kris's ears, but as they opened their eyes, they realized they weren't looking at the bright skyscrapers of Musutafu, nor were they looking at the familiar roofs of Hometown. They were plummeting through the crisp air of a dense, shadowy forest at nighttime. The canopy of ancient trees rushed up to meet them at terrifying speed.
“Hello there, little one~” a soft, melodic woman's voice echoed over the rushing wind.
Kris looked up through their tangled bangs. Descending through the moonlight alongside them was a woman wearing a striking, flowing haori with a patterned design resembling butterfly wings. Her dark hair was pulled up, pinned with a turquoise butterfly ornament, and tipped with a distinct shade of purple.
“It seems like you're falling… Do you need help?” she asked, her voice impossibly calm and pleasant despite the gravity of the situation.
“...Yes, I do..!!!” Kris managed to choke out, their body still crackling with the final, dying sparks of residual static.
Before Kris could hit the treacherous canopy and fall to their death, the woman moved with blinding, effortless speed. She caught them in mid-air, her grip surprisingly firm, and gracefully used the tree branches to break their momentum. With a light, feather-like descent, she safely put them down on the mossy ground.
“...You're quite light for someone…more or less tall,” she noted, tilting her head with a gentle, unbothered smile.
Kris leaned against a tree trunk, catching their breath as the last of the digital corruption dissolved into the night air. They looked at the strange traditional clothing she wore, realizing the principal's experiment had sent them into an entirely new frying pan.
“...Who are you.. And thank you,” Kris said flatly, keeping their hand close to the pocket where their knife was hidden.
“I am Shinobu… Who are you?”
…
I’m not home…..I am not even close..