Cate Café, Shizuoka Prefecture, 8:14 AM.

April 9th, 2149.

Mina savaged her breakfast, tearing it into small pieces and impaling them in a stack on her fork. She chomped down on it with glee, looking like she’d just broken down the walls protecting humanity to get at the tiny people inside.

“Do you think Koji would have liked this?” Momo said quietly, cheek against the table.

The black cat that had agreed to a ceasefire was now investigating the funnel of hair that stuck out of Momo’s head.

“Hm.” I noised, considering the question.

I hadn’t spent anywhere near enough time around the boy to accurately guess that. Koji was a shy boy, cooperative, and more than willing to engage with others when he was pulled out of his shell. His quirk, however, could have far more bearing on the question.

“Koji’s quirk was strange, and it likely caused a significant divergence in how he interacted with animals,” I said eventually, “Depending on the mechanics of how it worked, he was either taking forcible control of any animal he spoke to or instilling some measure of intelligence and loyalty in it and having it listen to him that way.”

Momo lifted her head to watch him, frowning.

“If it was the latter, he most likely spent a lot of time talking and interacting with animals,” I said, nodding. “If it was the former, it was entirely possible that he saw them as either extension of himself or as mindless automatons.”

“I hadn’t thought about the implications of his quirk,” Momo admitted, “I saw him playing with a bird once; he was smiling.”

“Perhaps I’m wrong,” I said simply, “I never had a proper conversation with him, so I’m afraid I can only guess at what kind of person he was.”

What kind of person he was—and that was the crux of this discussion, neither Momo nor I would even have the chance to talk to Koji about it. None of them would ever get to see what kind of hero Rikido became. The cost to strike at All Might had been the lives of two young boys and two lifetimes of potential that would never be realized, and the villains had paid it willingly.

Momo was staring down at the table now, and I’d had more than enough practice with Nanami to know when someone was on the verge of crying.

“I think Koji would have liked it here if he’d had the chance to come.” I decided eventually, envisioning the two boys in the room with them. “Rikido, too.”

“Yeah,” Momo sniffed, rubbing at her eyes with the back of her hand. “We should probably leave soon; Eijiro’s appointment is approaching.”

I nodded, pretending I hadn’t noticed.

“I’m just saying,” Mina defended. “If you ever want to change it back, you’ll have to come back to Tokyo.”

Eijiro clasped one hand around his bicep and tensed it; his arm hardened into a series of ridges as he activated his quirk.

“A sacrifice I’m willing to make!” Eijiro said seriously like he was the protagonist of an anime. “This is it—no more playing around; I’m not going to spend another cent on hair dye!”

I nodded in support of the decision; a one-off payment now would likely save him money in the long term. Seeing such fiscal responsibility in my classmates was reassuring.

“You’re committed to this choice then?” The receptionist stage whispered as if they were undertaking a quest with the world on the line. “There’s no going back after this—gather your courage!”

“Yosh!” Eijiro said firmly. “I will walk this path—”

Mina pushed him from behind, and Eijiro laughed, bracing himself against the counter.

“Okay, okay! I’m sure.” Eijiro laughed, fetching his wallet. “I paid in advance anyway. Do you need to see my I.D.?”

While they handled the paperwork, the rest of them milled about at the front of the store. I spent a moment’s consideration on getting my own hair color changed. A yellow or beige color closer to that of my sand would allow for better camouflage than its current black, but I could almost accomplish the same thing by using my quirk to cover it from sight.

Something to consider later, I could always return here in the future.

“It would be pretty funny if we turned up with switched hair colors,” Mina laughed, “We could act like nothing had changed and freak them out.”

I pictured a Mina with black hair and shook my head. Momo was smiling at the thought, no doubt picturing herself with pink hair. Eijiro gave them a wave before disappearing into the back with the receptionist.

“Would I look strange with brighter green hair?” Tsuyu asked seriously, holding a lock of her almost black hair.

Momo hummed, eyeing her with a critical eye, clearly giving it some serious thought.

“A color closer to the brighter shade of your hero costume would look nice,” Momo nodded, “But even just a few shades brighter than it is now would look good, I think.”

“Yeah,” Mina agreed, “It’s dark enough that in some light, it’s actually hard to tell your hair color isn’t actually black.”

I found myself suddenly under the inquisitive gaze of the three of them—obviously, they expected me to contribute to the discussion in some manner. I considered what Tsuyu might look like with green hair—there were actually three people in class 2-B with differing shades of green hair; Setsuna’s probably didn’t count, given its similarities to Tsuyu’s own.

“I think it looks nice the way it is,” I said solemnly.

Tsuyu croaked in response, and Momo snickered into her hand.

“Boo!” Mina said obnoxiously, “That’s something a dad would say!”

If she wanted a more analytical answer, he was happy to provide.

“If Tsuyu’s goal is aesthetics or overall cohesion,” I explained, “A brighter shade of green would leave her hair at odds with her current eye color. Black eyes and dark green hair work well together.”

“Bright green totally looks good with black, though,” Mina argued, folding her arms.

“Bright green eyes look good with black hair,” I refuted, “A splash of color within an otherwise dark background is a better combination than a sea of bright color with a dark spot.”

“Hm,” Momo wondered. “I think I actually agree with that—it’s completely subjective, though.”

Mina huffed.

“So I shouldn’t do it?” Tsuyu said, wringing her hands.

“I think you should do what you think is right, Tsuyu,” I said solemnly.

“Another dad answer!” Mina cried. “Pick a side, you coward!”

Tsuyu croaked.

“If you want more actionable advice, ask Eijiro to show you where he purchased his previous hair dye, and try several shades of green first,” I said nodding, “Once you’ve found the one you want, come back here and make it permanent.”

“We actually do temp colors here,” The receptionist said bemused, leaning against the door frame, having left Eijiro in the back. “Would you like to come to have a look at some colors with me?”

Tsuyu nodded seriously, following the woman into the back.

“All I’m saying is that it was anti-climactic,” Mina said pointedly, “It looks exactly the same as before—at least with Tsuyu’s hair, you can tell it’s brighter.”

Tsuyu had indeed been convinced to pay for the permanent hair color change, moving several shades brighter as she had been advised by Momo. They’d almost lost Mina to the convincing woman as well, but they’d made it out intact.

“It’s supposed to be the same!” Eijiro said cried, “That was the entire point of going there in the first place—weren’t you listening!?”

“Hmph—I don’t know why you’re upset,” Mina huffed, “I didn’t even get to embarrass you in front of the rest of the class by telling them about you reinventing yourself.”

“I thought you were joking about that,” Eijiro said, alarmed.

“What was he like before U.A.?” Momo asked curiously. “He’s very energetic in class.”

Eijiro looked horrified.

“He used to run around and get beat up by everyone,” Mina laughed, “He always tried to stop any bullies he saw, but it always went wrong.”

“It didn’t always go wrong,” Eijiro scratched his cheek, flushing. “I stopped heaps of them.”

“I made sure to forget all the times you won,” Mina said seriously, “That way, it’s funnier when I tell everyone.”

“Hey!” Eijiro yelped.

“I’m curious how many students in class 1-A have similar stories,” Momo said thoughtfully.

I hadn’t done it nearly as frequently as Eijiro seemed to have, but there were at least half a dozen times I could recall easily. There was a standout day that included one day of missed school and an event that happened downtown that Hayami was never going to find out about.

Sajin had eyed me pretty suspiciously the very next day, but he had no proof of my involvement, and thankfully he didn’t ask.

“I recall seeing both Katsuki Bakugo and Izuku Midoriya’s names in the paper,” Momo said thoughtfully, pressing a finger against her chin. “It must have been early last year? They fought a villain together, and then All Might arrived.”

“Really?” Mina said, blinking. “I hadn’t heard of that.”

I raised an eyebrow at that, having not heard of the event. Obviously, both Izuku and Katsuki had known each other prior to U.A., but to fight a villain together?

“I was under the impression that Izuku was having difficulty using his quirk?” I wondered, “Did he fight the villain without it?”

“That’s kind of badass,” Eijiro cheered. “Fighting without a quirk—damn, that’s manly.”

“It didn’t say if either of them used their quirks or not,” Momo frowned, “Most of the article was in regards to All Might’s presence.”

“I’ll ask Midoriya when we get back,” Mina decided. “He seems a bit skittish around girls; think he’ll run away?”

“If it was you that came up to him?” Eijiro said, grinning, “I know I would—ow!”

Eijiro swerved wide, feigning to one side with some fancy footwork before using me as an obstacle to block Mina’s advance. I remained in place, pretending to look at all the surrounding stalls, and Mina gave up with a huff.

“Idiot,” Mina said pompously, turning back to face forward.

Eijiro clapped his hands together in thanks, bowing his head.

“There was another article last year,” Tsuyu said slowly, still playing with a piece of her hair. “The Bamboo villain, ‘Shoot and Leave’ attacked Pasana Middle School but was stopped by a student there, one who had a sand quirk.”

I picked up an XL figurine of one of our teachers in a rather revealing alternate costume and checked the price on its foot, curious how much licensed hero merchandise sold for. It could potentially be a source of income for me if I were to gather some renown—I stared at the number, genuinely shocked.

Why the hell was it so expensive?

“That was me,” I said distractedly, still staring at the figurine. “I got in a lot of trouble for that, but I was also recommended to U.A. for my involvement. I couldn’t consider it a good day, but I wouldn’t say it was bad either.”

My name had been publically attached to that event thanks to the words of my—at the time classmates. Even a cursory investigation online would reveal that it was me, so there was no point in denying it.

“That’s really cool,” Eijiro said, awkwardly, “I didn’t see anything about that one.”

Seeing this figurine felt like a new pathway had opened up in my mind, one I’d never considered before.

I could study other heroes’ appearances and take their form in combat to mislead my opponents.

If I picked someone like Midnight, whose power was a well-known sleep quirk, it could cause my opponent to stay at range to avoid her quirk. I excelled at range combat, so it would directly contribute to an advantage in combat. I could even use different forms to better herd my opponents into traps.

I’d most likely just use the internet to find images of heroes online or, in her case, study Midnight during class because I didn’t think this figurine was worth nearly as much as the asking price. It would be far more cost-effective to use other methods to obtain models.

The problem was they would all be the same sandy color, and nobody would think it was real—My mind jumped into a higher gear.

I could prepare series of containers, each filled with different colored sand, carry it on my person to multiply when I needed it. I would need to get the palette as close to the original as possible. I’d have to ask both Sajin if he’d tried anything like it in the past, and I could make a request to Hayami to continue her critiques on my attempts at realism.

How had I never considered this before? I’d been making statues of Nanami for years, but I’d never hit on the connection to turn that into a more fleshed-out combat skill? For the first time in years, I felt like I’d failed to consider something that must have been obvious to everyone else.

I greatly disliked the feeling.

“Um,” Mina said awkwardly, “Do you, uh, have a crush on Midnight or something?”

“Don’t ask him that,” Momo said, embarrassed. “That’s rude, Mina.”

The word ‘rude’ brought me back to the present, and I realized I was being spoken to.

“I apologize, I didn’t mean to be rude; I was thinking about using colored sand to create a realistic clone of Midnight,” I said, holding up the figurine as proof, “I have a bad habit of getting lost in my thoughts when I’m concentrating.”

“Why do you need a realistic clone of Midnight?” Momo said, flushed. “I shouldn’t have asked that; you don’t have to answer that, Hisoka—”

“Hisoka absolutely needs to answer that,” Mina said immediately, grinning. “But I think I know what this is about—Do you want me to give Midnight a letter for you, Hisoka? I’ll make sure your identity stays a secret.”

I glanced around at their reactions, feeling like I’d missed something important—Eijiro looked nervous, waiting for something while Tsuyu was just frozen, staring at the extra-large figure in my hand.

“I don’t think anonymity is a concern here,” I said, trying to catch up on the context I was missing, “It would also be inappropriate for you to deliver a letter to Midnight at my behest when I can easily accomplish the task unaided.”

“Wow!” Mina said with wide eyes, fumbling to get her phone out. “You’re so confident.”

I frowned as Mina took a picture of me holding the figure up—Eijiro started waving his hands, drawing everyone’s attention to him.

“Dude—don’t take pictures of him with that thing,” Eijiro said, floundering. “Hisoka, Midnight is a teacher, and you’re a student—”

I had no idea why I was apparently sending Midnight a message in the first place, and I had no idea why her status as our teacher would someone stop me from communicating with her if I needed to. I kept my face perfectly blank, completely lost and feeling like I’d fallen too deep to ask them to restart the conversation now.

I just needed a key piece of information to resync us.

“I could use some assistance with the contents of the letter, seeing as I have no idea what I am supposed to be writing,” I said, nodding, seeing as Mina clearly wanted to assist me.

It was an open invitation for her to start describing it, and I was absolutely confident I’d be—

“Aren’t you scared of Midnight’s reaction?” Momo said, shocked.

Her reaction to what?

I focused; my only individual interaction with Midnight had been the reprimand I’d received after breaking the rules. Had they all found out about that somehow? We must have been overheard in the hallway.

The letter we were discussing writing must have been an apology letter for breaking the rules, and they were under the impression that I would be too intimidated by the previous conversation to speak with her again, hence a letter and not a conversation.

The only thing that didn’t make sense with that theory was the earlier focus on anonymity—an apology would mean nothing if she didn’t know who it had come from.

“Mina, thank you for the offer, but I have everything well in hand—Make no mistake, I have already engaged in a private meeting with Midnight once already,” I said calmly, reassuring her. “She was very patient with me, and despite her obvious frustration at my inexperience, we both left satisfied.”

“Inexperience?” Tsuyu croaked in alarm.

“Well in hand?” Eijiro said weakly.

“Satisfied?!” Mina said, shocked. “There’s no way—”

“Stop—everybody stop.” Momo squeaked, face bright red. “I don’t think we’re talking about the same thing anymore.”

I’d been found out before I’d discovered what the hell this conversation was about; how unfortunate.

“I was talking about sex! You and Midnight!” Mina said in frustration, looking embarrassed. “You said you already did it in private, and you both left satisfied—You all heard him?”

That was not at all what I had said, and for a moment, I was stumped by the outrageous conclusion she had drawn.

“I had a private meeting with Midnight about returning to the USJ when I was supposed to stay in the main building,” I said frowning, “I highly doubt that Midnight would risk her teaching career and professional reputation for a student she’s only spoken to once.”

“Oh, thank god,” Eijiro sighed in relief. “I thought I was going to have to report her.”

“What about that?” Tsuyu said hesitantly, pointing to the basically naked figurine, covered only by some pieces of string.

I glanced down at the figure.

“I wanted to know how much it was being sold for,” I said flatly, holding the figure up so they could see the price on its foot. “Once we graduate from U.A. and obtain our hero licenses, we will be able to sell merchandise using our image, and it will become a significant source of income for all of us.”

Eijiro’s eyes widened at the price tag before quickly snatching it and putting it back on the shelf as if merely touching it was siphoning away his remaining money.

“You also said you were going to make a realistic clone of Midnight?” Momo added, having a hard time looking at his face.

Tsuyu croaked again.

“I had a realization that I could use colored sand to make better clones as distractions during combat.” I explained, “I am already adept at making statues out of sand; adding color to it would add to the realism and thus make a better distraction.”

“So you didn’t have sex with our teacher?” Mina said sheepishly.

Everyone turned to look at her, and she laughed nervously at the attention.

“I haven’t had sex with anyone, Mina,” I said, frowning at her. “I think it’s time to leave.”

“Yes,” Momo managed, still redfaced. “I agree.”

Things had remained awkward for a little while after the extremely confusing conversation, but I did my best to put it behind me. We left Akihabara, heading for what would most likely be our last destination for the day as we’d agreed as a group not to bother with the maid café.

Finding it was a simple task, given its height, and as they approached it, he found himself tilting his head back in an attempt to see the top of the Sky Tree from his place on the pavement. Surrounded in a tubular cage, the core of the structure sat within, thick, metal, and grey.

“It’s so much taller in person,” Tsuyu said, voice tinged with awe.

“It’s supposed to look beautiful at night,” Momo said smiling, “The structure is covered in lights, and the view of Tokyo is supposed to be amazing.”

“I forgot how cool it was,” Eijiro laughed, “It’s been ages.”

It absolutely towered over everything nearby, and it loomed over them as they approached the entrance, quickly going through the entry process and moving towards the elevators. I entered first, standing in the corner and waiting for the doors to close behind the others.

The elevator hummed to life, lifting upwards.

At some point during our Tokyo adventure, the other three had stopped pretending to be happy—I wasn’t sure exactly when it had occurred, but viewing their behavior now in comparison to this morning made the disparity easily visible.

Eijiro’s smile had stopped being an accessory, and Momo’s eyes glittered as she studied everything around her. Tsuyu’s hair continued to divert her attention from her surroundings, and he’d caught her playing with it on more than one occasion.

Mina was a strange case, she seemed less energetic than earlier, the façade of bright and bubbliness that she’d worn had faded the longer she spent with them, but her demeanor seemed far more genuine than before.

I wondered if I’d experienced a similar change; if I seemed more open around them now, or perhaps nobody had noticed me on that level—the spotlight effect was known to warp perception, and the newer or sensitive things you thought stood out tended not to be picked up by others at all.

The doors to the steel cage opened, and they stepped out onto the first of the observation points—the room was lined with windows, large glass panes kept remarkably clean. The world stretched out beneath them; the buildings below that had at one time towered over them during their journey throughout the city now stared up at them in jealously.

“Wow.” Tsuyu said quietly, eyes wide.

They stopped at the window directly across from the elevator, staring out.

“I feel like a queen, surveying my kingdom,” Mina said, holding her arms out to the sides as if to encompass the city below.

“How does it feel, your majesty?” Eijiro said, grinning.

“It is good,” Mina said imperiously.

I smiled, feeling the sand I’d left outside of the tower crawl up the frame outside, a single line heading further up, staying out of sight of the windows as the wind tried to tear it away to no avail—its destination; the very top of the tower.

“It’s beautiful,” Momo said, eyes glittering. “I do wish we had come when it was dark.”

I nodded in agreement; seeing the millions of lights below them would have been a sight to see. They eventually headed up to the Galleria, the uppermost observation deck, and a single large room ringed by windows. Roughly a hundred meters above the other floor and filled with natural light.

“I’m beginning to feel a bit nervous,” Momo admitted, looking down at the floor. “This is really high.”

“So am I,” Tsuyu said in agreement, croaking. “I can feel the building moving.”

I’d hoped there would be a bathroom up here—I felt my sand pooling at the peak above.

“I’ll be right back,” I said plainly.

“Hm? Are you going somewhere—” Eijiro said, confused.

I emerged from my sand on the very top—a singular white circle and a ring of metal bars holding the top of the pillar in place. The movement of the building was far more noticeable up here, and the wind was exceptionally potent.

I moved to the edge and sat down, staring out over the city. I’d have to come back here after I’d saved Nanami—I couldn’t recall if she’d ever been scared of heights; I don’t think there had ever been a time where it had come up.

Today was an extraordinarily important day, Hayami and I would be meeting Momo’s parents later tonight once we had returned, and I found myself intensely conflicted about it.

After an entire day spent in her company, outside of the highly structured environment that U.A was in, I’d been able to ascertain many things about my classmate. Momo was well-spoken, observant, and arguably the most intelligent person in our class; she had many qualities that I appreciated, and above all that she was kind.

I really didn’t want to kill her parents.

“I can’t believe you went outside,” Eijiro said for the hundredth time. “I’m really glad nobody saw you use your quirk up there.”

I nodded, ducking my head in apology for something I wasn’t at all sorry for.

“I had already decided on that course of action when we decided on going to the Sky Tree,” I admitted, “I don’t regret it—the unobstructed view was impressive.”

“Ugh,” Mina complained, “You should have brought us up there too!”

“Mina,” Momo said, exasperated.

Mina just grinned.

“No way,” Tsuyua said immediately, wringing her hands together. “I think I might have been sick.”

“As would I,” Momo agreed.

The hum of the train surrounded them, barely on the edge of perception after they’d grown used to its presence once more.

“Today was awesome,” Eijiro said, folding his hands behind his head. “Hey—thanks for coming with me, guys. I really appreciate it.”

Mina hmphed, but she was fighting off a smile.

“You’re welcome, Kirishima,” Momo said, smiling warmly, “Thank you for inviting me.”

“I had a lot of fun,” Tsuyu said seriously, “I hope we can do something like this again in the future.”

“Absolutely,” Eijiro said brightly, “There’s a bunch of places we could go—Hisoka, you said you wanted to see Hamamatsu Castle, right?”

“I still do,” I said nodding, “Are you suggesting another trip of some kind?”

“Yeah!” Eijiro said, “I know we haven’t even gotten home yet, but we could go in a couple of weeks—if you guys want to, you know?”

“I’ve never been to Hamamatsu,” Mina admitted, tapping her chin. “Eh, I’ll come—today was really fun.”

“I would like to come as well,” Tsuyu said seriously.

Momo flushed slightly under all of the attention as they all turned on her.

“I’ve already been, but I would love to accompany you all,” Momo said smiling, “If you’ll have me.”

“Cool.” Eijiro grinned, “Hopefully next time I can get Bakugo to come with us—that guy needs to lighten up a bit.”

“Can we invite some others as well?” Mina asked, tapping her chin with a finger. “Jiro might like to come?”

“Invite whoever you want—it’s not like we’re staying overnight or anything,” Eijiro nodded easily. “Same as today, there an back again.”

I finally allowed myself to smile—Meeting Eijiro Kirishima must have been fate.