Tanizaki Gets Snatched

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/27660436.

Rating: General Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Fandom: 文豪ストレイドッグス | Bungou Stray Dogs, 僕のヒーローアカデミア |
Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Relationship: Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Character: Tanizaki Junichirou (Bungou Stray Dogs), Shigaraki Tomura, League of
Villains (My Hero Academia), Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Class 1-A
(My Hero Academia), Sensei | All For One, Edogawa Ranpo (Bungou
Stray Dogs), Armed Detective Agency Ensemble (Bungou Stray Dogs),
Port Mafia Ensemble (Bungou Stray Dogs), Nakahara Chuuya (Bungou
Stray Dogs), Todoroki Enji | Endeavor
Additional Tags: no one else is gonna do it so i will: the fanfic, Kidnapping, Crossover,
OOC characters, My First Fanfic, kurogiri can warp dimentions, there
are two japans with different written languages, the spoken language is
the same though, aged-down characters, Tanizaki is Bisexual, Todoroki
Enji | Endeavor's Bad Parenting, Todoroki Enji | Endeavor Being An
Asshole, Abusive Parents, its endeavor, I'm awful at writing romance
and I hate it as a plot point so the love is lowkey, Other Additional Tags
to Be Added, tw: fires, graphic depiction of injury, idk how graphic it is
but it's just blood, Burns, and eye injuries, Medical Inaccuracies, self
harm consideration, grieving characters
Language: English
Collections: Time Travel and World Travel
Stats: Published: 2020-11-21 Updated: 2021-07-20 Chapters: 12/? Words:
17409

Tanizaki Gets Snatched

by Fire_Eater

Summary

Tanizaki was having a good day, until some crusty old man beat him upside the head.

Or, Tanizaki gets snatched by the League.

UNDERGOING EDITS. THIS IS THE BAD VERSION. By popular demand, this is no

longer being deleted, but is still discontinued

Notes

I'm very excited for my first fanfic! There's not enough Tanizaki content, so I figured I'd
just do it myself. Tanizaki might be ooc, but I took some liberties.
Constructive critisism welcome! <3
 Chapter 1

Tanizaki leaned backwards in a wooden chair, nearly falling over as he stretched his back. He
wheeled his arms in rapid circles to regain his balance and all but threw himself forward in an
attempt to right himself. Sure, he drew the attention of the entire room, but he wasn’t flat on his
back, so it was a win.

He had been tired all day after Naomi forced him to watch romance movies all of the previous
evening. She was full of energy, as per usual, but he was barely making it through the day. He had
finished half the reports he could have in the time he had been in the office, and he had half fallen
asleep six times over five hours.

He was seated at one of the desks on the right side of the agency, doing his share of paperwork,
when Ranpo threw a cheeto at his head.

Tanizaki made a noise of indignation. “What was that for?” He put his hand to the spot that had
been hit, despite it not hurting.

Ranpo shrugged, “You’re stressed. Maybe you should go home early?”

Tanizaki looked between him and the small stack of remaining papers on his desk. “I mean, if
Kunikida says I can, then I don’t see why not,”

Speak of the devil, and he shall appear, since Kunikida walked through the door almost as soon as
Tanizaki mentioned his name. “What’s this about me?” He asked the room, snapping his notebook
closed.

Tanizaki opened his mouth to answer, but before he could get a word out, Ranpo started. “Tanizaki
is stressed and is not performing up to the ADA standard. I recommend sending him home so he
can sleep, then have him come in early tomorrow, to catch up on the work he could have been
doing today.” He was shouting. Tanizaki’s ears were red as his hair, yet he couldn’t quite tell why.

Kunikida considered this, glancing at the clock, which read 7:00, and his face, calculating how
much work he’d lose if he let him go. After a moment, he nodded to himself, and stepped closer to
where Tanizaki was sitting. The ginger shrunk back into his seat at Kunikida’s expression— His
bangs were curving into his eyes, sharpening their appearance and adding a level of anger to his
stare. Tanizaki put his hands up in defense.

Kunikida stayed slightly leaned forward for a few seconds before he suddenly straightened. “It’s
fine if you want to go home. There’s no more cases today. Your remaining work is,” He hesitated
for a moment and looked at the stack of remaining papers on his desk, “minimal. It would be fine
for you to catch up on sleep.”

Tanizaki sighed as he got up. “Thank you, sir,” he grabbed his bag and hoisted it over one of his
shoulders, waved goodbye to the Agency, and left for the train station.

The train station Tanizaki was walking to used to be bustling and full of life during rush hour.
However, after another, larger station was constructed a block to the south, most of the people who
had taken the old train moved to the newer, larger one. After all, it was faster, and more
comfortable, and a smoother ride. Tanizaki and those who needed the cheaper fare for a ride still
used the old station, though. He thought the mice in the corners were charming, and the fewer
people there provided a brief bit of solace for his developing headache.

Tanizaki had barely made it to the station before he collapsed on a bench. He took a heavy glance
to the clock on a far wall before he closed his eyes to nap. 7:20, it read. I’m getting to be like an old
man, he groaned. The next train headed towards his house arrived at 7:45, so Tanizaki had enough
time to nap if he set an alarm, which he did. He was barely asleep when he saw a blue haired man
enter his peripheral vision. He was acting vaguely suspicious, but even that had Tanizaki on his
guard. He was still exhausted, but he wasn’t going to fall asleep now. Not with this blue haired
man, who, now that he had come closer, could be described as crusty.

This man’s face could absorb a tub full of vaseline, Tanizaki thought, grinning despite the
situation.

He could faintly hear the blue haired man whispering something, seemingly to himself. He
glanced over to Tanizaki, who tensed. A smile grew on his face as he all but stalked over to where
Tanizaki was sitting. Was it joy, or rage? Either way, the man’s teeth were just too gray for it to be
a comfortable teeth color, and his eyes were the strangest shade of red Tanizkai had seen- they
weren’t color contacts, Naomi had bought a pair as a joke once, but there was no way that a normal
human person could have eyes that red.

While Tanizaki was debating this eye conundrum, the man glanced behind him and nodded.
Tanizaki barely had time to be confused before there was a moment of sharp, blinding pain on the
side of his head, and then he passed out.

Tanizaki awoke on the most uncomfortable bed he’d ever slept on, and there was an assignment
during which he slept on cinder blocks. His bobby pins were stuck in the exposed springs and his
hair was knotted around the coils, and he immediately moved his body off the stained and slightly
damp mattress because ew, that’s disgusting . He pushed up from the bed, but only succeeded in
yanking out some strands of hair. He pressed his teeth together and grabbed the stuck hair to try
and pull it out of the coils, and not cause anymore bleeding from the head. If only I had a knife , he
thought glumly, ripping his hair from where it was bound. A few strands were still tied tight to the
mattress. After he finally got it, he sat up and looked around the room he was in.

The room reeked of alcohol, garbage, and mold. Am I in a bar ? It was a possibility, though he
didn’t know how likely that was. The walls were cold, exposed bricks of a rusty red color. There
was nothing on them; it was to be expected from a room serving as a prison cell, but a bit of variety
would be nice. There was one window, near the top of the wall, barred with thin iron. The light it
was letting it could be described as pitiful, to say the least. It was either sunset or the window was
extremely dirty.

He looked to the old metal door as it opened and activated Light Snow. Making a clone then
making himself invisible wasn’t exactly difficult, and it was useful for situations when he might be
getting hurt. He tensed as the man who opened the door entered the room fully.

It was the same blue haired man he had seen in the station yesterday. But the man was covered in...
Hands ? There were hands all over his arms and neck— one covered his face, too. They were pale
white and some were attached to others but thick red cords. Tanizaki wanted out of there. He
moved to the door and snuck out before it fully closed. Mr. Blue Hair was fooled by the illusion—
not like there was any doubt it would work, but it always filled Tanizaki with a bit of pride when
someone spoke to an unfeeling, lifeless clone of a person. He was still grinning as he locked the
door from the outside, closing Mr. Blue Hair in.

Tanizaki wandered the hallways in search of a door, preferably one leading outside. He tired every
door he came across, even those with obvious locks. Eventually, at the end of a dark, wooden
hallway, he opened a door to a bar. First thing he laid eyes on was a door directly across the room
from where he was. He was still invisible, thank the gods, because there were three people in the
room. Well... two people, and one black cloud wearing a suit. A blonde girl wearing a school
uniform looked to the door, right at Tanizaki, but didn’t see him. It was still a strange feeling, as he
snuck to the other side of the room, being looked at but not seen.

A floorboard creaked and he suddenly remembered there were three people in the bar. The third
person inside flashed his hand in a wide arc as flames appeared out of nowhere; Tanizaki threw
himself to the ground in an attempt to avoid being burned. He vaulted to the other door and threw it
open, just barely feeling the fire fellow grab at the nape of his neck. His collar was singed, sure, but
it was already black. The rest of his sweater would be fine if he could just run faster . His
adrenaline skyrocketed and his stomach felt as though it was filled with stones, but he was out of
that bar.

The fresh air, although there was a breeze, was stale. Tanizaki had picked a random direction,
right, and bolted away from the bar— he glanced over his shoulder to see the fire user almost
directly behind him. His eyes widened as he dove to the left to let Mr. Flame go on ahead. Tanizaki
only saw him for a few seconds, but that was enough time to see Mr. Flame’s arms. They were a
dark purple color and looked more like leather than human flesh, and Tanizaki would have thought
he was wearing gloves before he saw the bolts attaching the deep leather to healthy, pale skin. A
feeling of nausea rose in his stomach thinking back to the silver staples.

Tanizaki, now a ways behind Mr. Flame, walked down the street much calmer than before. He
wasn’t quite sure how safe it would be to lower Light Snow, so he kept it up for now. He glanced
to the sky in an effort to find out the time; it was autumn now, so the sun being there should make
it around... 4:00 am? If he hurried, he could find the police and explain the situation, maybe get
home in time to see Naomi before she went off to school tomorrow.

Unfortunately, he had no idea where he was. He had been walking for an hour or so. He could sort
of read the street signs, though they didn’t make much sense to him. What kind of street name is
Pork? This city was confusing him so much he didn’t notice he ran into someone until he was on
the ground. Tanizaki hit his head on the ground and dropped Light Snow on accident, but the man
saw him before he could put it up again.

He had long black hair— it looks greasy —and had a scarf made of... bandages? Tanizaki
immediately thought of Dazai. They might get along , he laughed to himself.

The stranger’s eyes went red as he spoke to Tanizaki, “Who are you?” His voice was scratchy and
low, and he sounded tired but energized. Like he pulled three all nighters then downed ten cups of
black coffee.

“Are you with the police?” Tanizaki asked instead of introducing himself. It was more important to
get help than exchange pleasantries with a stranger.

His eyes narrowed and returned to their original dark color. “You could say that. What are you
doing here?”
Tanizaki debated telling the truth— what, exactly, would he say? Oh, I’ve been kidnapped by a
blue haired man with a very strange fetish an hour ago ? There’s no way he’d believe him. He
decided to be straightforward, though vague, with his troubles, “I was being chased a while ago, by
an ability user-” He was interrupted before he could continue.

“A what?” The man was staring at him like he had three heads.

“An ability user? He could use fire?” Tanizaki stared right back.

“Do you mean a quirk?”

“No, I mean an ability, what the hell is a quirk?”

“You have one, how do you not know what quirks are?”

“I have an ability, first of all, and second, I don’t even know what street I’m on.”

“How do you not-” He paused to collect himself. “Ok. Back to square one. What’s your name?”

“Tanizaki Jun'ichirō, and yours?”

The man started walking and gestured for Tanizaki to follow him. “Eraserhead.”

Tanizaki laughed out loud. “That’s your actual name? Not a nickname? I hope that’s a nickname.”

Eraserhead huffed, “It’s my hero name. Do you need directions to the police department, or do you
need me to walk you there?”

He debated for a moment before remembering that he couldn’t read the street signs, so any verbal
directions would be pointless. “I’d prefer you to take me there, thank you.”

They were well on their way before Eraserhead remembered what Tanizaki said- “Are you being
chased?”

“I mean, not anymore, but I was, yeah,” He said, like it was no big deal.

“By who? And from where?” He was scared for this kid’s safety, and confused as to who exactly
he was.

“Some fire guy, he had-” He turned a disgusted shade of green before continuing, “weird skin. And
a blue haired guy with a few too many hands.”

Eraserhead spluttered for a moment. The League of Villains ? This teenage boy who he had never
even seen before, hadn’t been involved with once, was kidnapped by the League of Villains ?
“Seriously?”

“Would I lie?” He had a point. He wasn’t going to gain anything by lying.

After a moment, Eraserhead asked “What’s your power?” He went for a more neutral term for
quirks so he would know what he was talking about.

They had been walking for a half hour and were now in a shopping district, the restaurants and
coffee shops just opening their doors to customers. “It’s called Light Snow. It’s not that useful, I
can cast illusions, honestly it’s easier to show you.”

Eraserhead considered this. It wasn’t violent, so it wouldn’t bring a civilian into danger, and-
“Where did you go?” He snapped his eyes around for Tanizaki. Had he been kidnapped again?
Had someone hurt him and I didn’t notice? Before Eraserhead could tear up the street, Tanizaki let
down the illusion, revealing that he hadn’t moved at all.

“Hey, how old are you?” Eraserhead asked, pretending that he hadn’t almost had a panic attack two
seconds ago.

“I’m 16, why?”

“Would you like to speak with my boss?”

 The Young Nerds are Introduced, Shenanigans Occur
Chapter Summary

The class is introduced, that's kind of it.

Chapter Notes

Chapter two!!!! I really can't get over how many hits this has? Seriously, I just posted
this for fun and 300 people have read it? That's wack.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Tanizaki quirked his head to the side and gave Eraserhead a look. “Who’s your boss?”

Eraserhead sighed. It’s like this kid is from another planet , he thought. “He’s the principal of U.A
high school. It’s a school where teenagers go to become real heroes,”

Tanizaki pinched his eyebrows together. “And the government’s okay with that?”

Eraserhead nodded. “Since there are so many villains, future heroes need to start training early.
There are also villains who form gangs, like the people who kidnapped you. They refer to
themselves as the League of Villains--- They’re pretty well known, and their leader can take the
powers of other people. One of them has blue hair, as you said, his name is Shigaraki. He can turn
things to ash.”

Tanizaki blanched. I could have turned to ash if I stayed in that room with him?

“Oh.” Tanizaki was still confused about what kind of government sets teens against someone who
can disintegrate people.

“Who else is there? The fire one, specifically. And there was a blonde girl, too? Who’s she?” But
before Eraserhead could answer, Tanizaki’s stomach growled again.

“Here,” Eraserhead looked over at one of the coffee shops. “Are you hungry? My class doesn’t
start for another-” He glanced at his watch- “four or so hours? I have time for breakfast if you want
anything,”

“Yeah, sure,” Tanizaki said as his stomach growled. He flushed, saying “I haven’t eaten since
yesterday morning, a bagel or something would be nice,”

They made their way into the shop. When they both ordered, they sat down at a table by a large
bay window and continued talking . “So. The League of Villains?” Tanizaki prompted, leaning
against the glass.

“They’re a group of villains, clearly. Their leader is a man--- if you can call him a man--- called All
For One. That’s his quirk’s name,”
“Oh, yeah?” He was surprisingly dismissive of All for One, instead turning his attention to another
villain. And how about that fire fellow who was chasing me?”

Eraserhead did a double take at that. “Dabi was the one chasing you?”

Tanizaki nodded, his hair flattening against the glass as he leaned into the window. “That’s his
name? He looks gross, can I say that?”

Eraserhead laughed, “You can. But the reason he looks like that is rather. . . dark. His skin isn’t
made for a fire quirk. It’s made for an ice quirk, so it’s more suited to the cold. You see where the
problem lies?”

Tanizaki nodded, his grin gone. “So every time he uses his power, he. . .” He trailed off, not
wanting to continue that thought.

“Yeah. Basically.”

Then, their coffees and breakfasts were ready, and the matter was dropped.

The sun rose higher as they sat there in a pleasantly awkward silence, sipping their drinks and
occasionally taking a bite from the pastries they had bought. Eraserhead bought, Tanizaki thought,
frowning. He didn’t have his wallet on him when he was abducted, so he was officially broke.

“So tell me more about your boss,” he said through a mouth full of bagel.

Eraserhead shuddered at the boy’s antics, then said “He’s an animal with an intelligence quirk.
He’s extremely smart and an excellent leader. He’s also got a very tactical brain,”

Tanizaki considered what he said. What do I have to lose? I have nothing right now, I might get
living quarters, too . He swallowed. “I’ll meet him. What would we discuss?”

“If you wanted to enroll there, or at least meet my students,”

Tanizaki’s eyes widened at the prospect. “Are you sure? It’s a bunch of heroes, and my- ah, my
quirk , as you call it, isn’t really suited for combat. If they wanted to hurt me, there’d be no contest
as to the winner.”

“What are you talking about? My students wouldn’t hurt you, they’re trying to be heroes. And
besides, your quirk is amazing!” Aizawa waved his hands in the air, gaining the bemused stare of
the barista. He blushed and put his hands in his lap, adding “I couldn’t tell where you were, and it’s
my job to see things. I’d say your quirk is more suited for combat than some in my class,”

Tanizaki snorted into his coffee before he realized the hero across him was serious. “Wait, really?”

Eraserhead nodded and got up. “Yeah, you should really meet them.”

“If you say so, I guess, it sounds interesting.”

“Good morning, Mr. Aizawa!” Class 1-A chorused, as chipper as they usually were in the morning.
They’re the opposite of normal teenagers, Aizawa thought, full of energy in the morning, falling
asleep at 3:30 in the afternoon .
“Good morning,” his tone was as lifeless as could be expected from the hero; he had been awake
all night. Izuku, though, caught on to something.

“Are you alright, sir? You seem more tired than usual,” He was concerned, as a hero in training
should be.

“I’m fine.” He waved his hand dismissively, “Get your homework out so I can collect it.”

The first class went on like that, learning about basic hero things like tactics and how to diffuse
small bombs. At noon, after the class was over, Aizawa made his way to Nedzu’s office. As soon
as he entered the waiting area, he saw Tanizaki. The redhead barely lifted his hand in greeting.

He was perched on the chair sideways, with his legs hanging over one of the armrests. He looked
exhausted, his head hanging on his shoulder towards the wall, his ear piercings flashing in the
lights. He was tapping his foot lightly, and messing with the back of his collar.

“Is there something wrong with your collar?” Aizawa asked, walking over and sitting in the chair
next to him to get a better look. “Oh, god, Tanizaki! This is destroyed!”

Tanizaki looked over his shoulder in an attempt to see his own back. “Really? It didn’t feel like
much when it happened.”

“We need to get you to Recovery Girl, your neck is blistered, how long has it been like this?”

“I dunno, since 3:30-ish?” he offered, twisting and getting up.

“ That’s 9 hours! ” He was horrified he hadn’t noticed before now.

“It really doesn’t hurt that bad, really-” His attempted lessening of the problem was no match for
Aizawa’s protective instincts as he was grabbed by the shoulders and marched down the hallway to
the nurse.

He passed a few older students who gave him pitiful or worried glances. Do they think I’m in
trouble? He tried to imagine it from a passing student’s perspective--- I guess it seems like I am .
He was being pushed around by a teacher who teaches his age range, it made sense.

The hallways were linoleum and painted concrete with one wall of solid glass windows. Tanizaki
looked over to the grounds below, marveling at the well kept brushes, trees, and flowers. There
were only a few clouds in the sky, and when one covered the sun, a few of the students gardening
there looked up to the sky or to the walls of the school.

The doors were huge--- almost 8 feet tall, though Tanizaki hadn’t seen anyone even approaching
that height since he got here. And there was a dashed line on the floor, probably to dictate
directions for students walking to other classes.

“Hey, how many students go here, anyway?”

Aizawa was still pushing him down the hallway, his mind apparently still focused on his burn.
Whatever, he thought, it wasn’t that important .

After a minute or two of walking, they finally made it to ‘Recovery Girl’, whoever that was.
Tanizaki was steered to a cot in the middle of the room, as there was a green haired boy sitting on
the edge of the one closest to the door, fidgeting with the blanket.

“Wait here,” Aizawa said, pushing Tanizaki onto the bed then turning to an old woman sitting at a
desk. “Recovery Girl, Tanizaki has a burn, would you heal it?”

The woman hopped off her office chair, revealing that she was barely 4.5 feet tall, and trotted over
to the middle cot. She bounced up onto the bed and puckered her lips.

“Wait wait wait, what the hell are you doing?” Tanizaki stuttered, crawling rapidly to the other
side of the room. The syringe in her hair only reminded him of Yosano, and that wasn’t the greatest
connection between healthcare professionals.

“I’m going to heal you, of course!” She said it like it was obvious. “It’s my quirk! I need to kiss
you to make you better,”

“I’d rather it heal on its own, thank you,” He was still pressed against the far wall.

“It won’t hurt a bit, honey, especially for a wound that small. It’s okay!”

Tanizaki cautiously stepped towards her. “If you say so,”

“She does,” Aizawa interrupted and grabbed him from behind, hooking his arms under Tanizaki’s
armpits and carried him over to Recovery Girl. “And so do I. Just ask Midoriya, he’s been in here
enough for all of class 1-A,”

Midoryia went tomato red as he tried to defend himself, and while Tanizaki was distracted listening
to him ramble, Recovery Girl kissed him with her quirk.

“Hey, that’s not fair!” He said, rubbing his neck.

“Well, you weren’t going to let me do it, were you?”

He looked down. “No, I guess not,” after a moment of feeling sorry for himself, he remembered
that he had no reason to feel sorry for himself and turned to the green haired boy across from him.
“Who are you, exactly?” He said it a bit meaner than he really meant. The greenie shrank back into
the bed.

“I’m Izuku Midoriya, it’s a pleasure to meet you!” Tanizaki could barely keep track of the
mumbling that flooded out of this kid’s mouth, something about apologizing, I think? He half
stood up to lean over and give Midoriya a light smack on the side of the head.

“Hey, calm down, man, that came out meaner that I thought,”

“Oh. Uhm, it’s okay!” He shook his hands back and forth. “A lot of people think my mumbling’s
annoying, though, sorry! I really don’t mean to be a bother, it’s just that I have so much to tell
people! It feels wrong to withhold information from people, ya’knoow?” He jittered with nervous
excitement. The more he spoke, the higher his voice rose until he was practically whistling.

“I said it’s fine,”

“I know!” He hesitated and wrung his hands. In an attempt to salvage the trainwreck of a
conversation, Midorya asked “Hey, who’s your favorite hero?”

Tanizaki gave him a look. “I’ve only heard of one, so I guess him. Eraserhead,”

Midoryia balked at the answer. “You’ve never heard of any other heroes?”

“I mean, I just said that, so I’d say so,”

“Not even All Might?”

“Not even All Might.” He got up as Aizawa moved to leave. “I’ve gotta bounce, Midoryia, I’ll see
you around.” He gave a two finger salute as he made his way to the door.

“Actually, you’ll be seeing each other tomorrow,” Aizawa said, halfway in the hallway.

Both students looked at each other in pleasant surprise.

“I got in?” Tanizaki asked, excited.

“You did. You start tomorrow. You’re in my class, too.”

Tanizaki and Aizawa silently made their way to the dorms, where Tanizaki would be living.
Tanizaki kept glancing over to Aizawa, expecting him to start talking, but he never did. It was a
rather stressful walk.

Once they had arrived at the huge, gray building, Aizawa opened the door for him. “Here’s the
dorms, you’ll be in the room next to Bakugo. Just ask around, he’s the angry one,”

Tanizaki nodded. “Okay, thank you for walking me here. I’m sure I can handle myself from
here,”

Aizawa moved from the door to let Tanizaki in and was readying to leave when he heard someone
inside screaming. Tanizaki tensed and activated Light Snow, and as he turned fully invisible,
Aizawa grabbed the back of his sweater. “No way am I losing you again.” He tightened his grip,
and Tanizaki stood still as a deer in headlights.

The two took a step into the chaos of the living room. There was a TV to the left, and sitting on the
couch were three girls braiding each other’s hair- One had long green hair, one had pretty, black
hair kind of like Naomi. Tanizaki was hopelessly homesick. He wanted to see the Armed Detective
Agency again, and he wanted to talk to Naomi. Dismissing the though before he got too upset, he
looked to the last girl---she had shorter brown hair. Tanizaki was so invested in the braid train he
only remembered the rest of the room when a bright red haired student was vaulted across the
couch. His hair’s the same color as Tachihara .

“Yeah, Bakugo!” His black shirt was ripped and singed at the sides. “That was killer, man! Throw
me again!” He was getting up and didn’t have a scratch on him anywhere. A blond student,
presumably this ‘Bakugo’, screamed at him.

“Shut up, Kirishima, I’ll kill you!” Oh. So he was that kind of person.

Aizawa cleared his throat to catch the student’s attention. After they finally stopped and stared at
the door with sheepish expressions. Aizawa announced “Now that I have your attention, Bakugo,
stop throwing Kirishima,”

The blond boy exploded , quite literally. His hands burst and popped with the force and repetition
of popcorn in a microwave. But he wouldn’t be in a hero class if that was all he could do, Tanizaki
figured. He shifted in the hold of Light Snow, comforted by the fact he was invisible. But almost as
soon as the pops started, they ended with a stern glare from Aizawa. His eyes were red and his hair
was floating around his head. Was that his power?
“There’s a new student in this room. Try and find him. No quirks. Go.”

And with that the class erupted into pandemonium, each student tearing up every possible hiding
place. Not a cupboard was spared from the rampage as most of the students went to the kitchen,
where there were more possible hiding places. They spent a while opening cabinets, even though
he definitely wasn’t in one. Some of the students split form the kitchen group and analyzed other
hiding places before searching them. Not one of them is looking up , Tanizaki thought. I could be
on the ceiling, idiots. Before he could finish gloating, there were people beside him. Tanizaki tried
to sidestep, but the students were in a cluster, apparently trying to sweep the room. A good idea,
actually, he thought as he ran into one of them. A yellow haired boy wearing a choker. Like
Nakahara.

He dropped Light Snow in a shower of green. “You found me, congratulations! Took a while,
though,” He glanced at a clock. “Ten minutes! My friends would have gotten me in half that. And
stop checking places you’ve already looked! That just wastes everyone’s time.”

The class stared at him with shock and surprise, and in some faces, fear. “Hey, hey, you don’t need
to be scared of me! It’s fire, seriously,” He waved his hands. “I’m not that scary, really,”

The students were shaking with excitement, save Bakugo and one short boy with- was that actually
his hair? There’s no way. I need to know if that’s his actual hair. The boy was muttering, similar to
Midoriya, but he was seemingly complaining about Tanizaki’s. . . face?

“Pretty boys shouldn’t exist,” He was glaring holes in the floor.

“Your quirk is so cool!” A pink skinned girl, Kirishima, and the choker wearing boy were in
Tanizaki’s face. His eyes widened and he took a step back into the wall. She seemed unaware of
his discomfort. “Is that all it can do?” Choker boy kept spewing questions at him without waiting
for any answers. Christ, get this kid some Adderall. The first coherent thought of this encounter.

Tanizaki glanced to the ceiling, as though the answer to any of the kids hundred questions would
be glued to it, and didn’t answer. The dark haired girl, from the braid train, pulled the pink girl
back, “Ashido, stop. Are you quite alright?” In the haze of Tanizaki’s brain, he decided the girl
sounded rich.

He stuttered and licked his lips, then shook his head vigorously. “What? Yeah, I’m fine,”

The dark haired girl introduced herself, “My name is Momo Yaoyorozu, it’s a pleasure to meet
you,” She gave a slight bow, righted herself, then asked, “What would your name be?”

Instead of answering, Tanizaki blurted “Are you rich?” He blinked. There’s no way. I can’t believe
this. How is this my intruduction?

Instead of slapping him across the face, as he expected, Yaoyorozu flushed. “I am, or my parents
are. What gave me away?”

“Your speech, no one says ‘it’s a pleasure to meet you’. At least, not where I’m from,”

Another student, a bird looking creature, interjected before the two could become too engrossed in
their conversation, “And where would that be?”

“Yokohama,”

The class stopped their fidgeting or side conversations and all stared at him. “You’re from
where?”
 Tanizaki’s brows furrowed. “What’d’ya mean? Get me a map, someone, I’ll show you.”

Chapter End Notes

I dunno how I feel about the ending, but I already have the first half of chapter three
written and I don't want to scrap the whole thing. As before, constructive criticism is
welcome, and I hope you enjoyed!
 jirou and exposition
Chapter Summary

IMPORTANT NEWS
unfortunately, I have to take a week off from writing. I have a research paper due soon
and it's heating up. Forgive me, but I don't want to sacrifice my English grade for a
fanfiction. Sorry y'all. I'm not going to discontinue the fic, but just don't expect an
update for a little while. There might be an update on the 16th, but don't take my word
for it. This is really my fault because I can't plant well at /all/.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Asido could feel the barest sense of panic ebbing at the corners of this new student’s voice; could
he really be from somewhere that doesn’t exist? It is possible, she figured, that it could be some
place outside Japan I’ve never heard of . She certainly wasn’t the smartest person in 1-A, she’d
have to give that to Momo. She had gotten the highest score on her midterm. But a glance her way
revealed a similar confused expression, which increased her concern for the redhead newbie even
more.

She tried to be comforting- “Hey, it’s alright, I’m sure it’s real, we just haven’t heard of it before,”
As she spoke, she realized it probably wouldn’t help him much.

He ran a hand through his hair and caught one of his fingers on something in it. He tugged his hand
to shake it free, but to no avail. His eyes widened in a maddened rage as he ripped two silver pins
from his hair---A few strands stayed pinned in the two clips and blood bloomed from the side of
his head.

Midoriya surged forward and grabbed Tanizaki’s wrists. Their noses almost touched, as Midoriya
leaned forward, “Oi, Tanizaki, calm down, I’m sure we can figure something out-”

Tanizaki broke from his stupor and shot a murderous glare right into Midoriya’s eyes. His tone
dripped venom, slow and threatening. “ Calm down? ”

He and the students behind him shrunk back. Tanizaki laughed maniacally, running his hand down
his face. His voice dropped to a threatening glower. “Imagine you’re in my shoes, kids.” He ripped
his other hand free. “You’ve just found out some bastard you’ve never seen before took you from
your home, your sister, all your friends, your job, how would you react?” No one answered. They
looked ashamed. They should be.

“That’s what I thought.” Tanizaki activated Light Snow, turning invisible again. A few students
furrowed their brows together and scanned the room in search of him. Tanizaki scoffed. “I’m going
to my room.”
The second Tanizaki closed the door, he dropped Light Snow and burst into ugly sobs. Pushing
against the door, he slid down to the floor, holding his head tight in his arms. My head’s still
bleeding , he thought dully, before crying about that, too. And my pins are on the floor downstairs
.

The room he was staying in couldn’t be more boring. Through his tears, he saw a plain bed-white
sheet, white pillow, gray comforter-on the left, a plain, brown wooden desk completely bare of
anything atop it near the door, and a closet by the far wall. The walls were blank of any
decorations--- including mirrors. Maybe that’s for the best. A window took up the center third of
the far wall, but the blinds were closed and he couldn’t bring himself to open them. He could,
however, crawl to the bed and wrap himself in the blankets.
The comforter was anything but, scratching and pricking his arms as he burrowed into it, searching
in vain for something resembling a warm, tight hug. He sniffed and tugged his hair again before
throwing his head against the wall. His stomach growled and hunger overtook him. Has it really
been that long since I ate? His last meal had been a single bagel nearly at around 5:30, and it was
late afternoon now.
I can’t be seen like. . . this. His hair stuck up wildly from where he pulled at it earlier, and his eyes
were probably shot and puffy. His cheeks were puffed, too, from the crying. They were wet, and
his mouth was dry. His socks were ratty, his sweater was singed, the part around the burn was
fraying, and somewhere in the day he had lost his trusted red jacket.

He rose from his cocoon to open the closet, mainly out of desire to distract himself, but also with
the off chance that it might have an extra shirt. It had nothing but empty plastic hangers, which in
hindsight was obvious, but a dark metal safe sat on the bottom of the wood. Sinking to a crouch, he
saw the safe had a preset 6 digit code and a red light, probably to indicate it was locked. It was
bolted to the bottom of the closet with four steel screws in each corner, so he couldn’t pick it up.
He tried opening it despite the light, but he couldn’t get a good grip on the door. Maybe there’s
money in this. Or government secrets. He rose, giving up on trying to figure out what the safe
could contain, knocking his head on an empty hanger. He ran a hand through his hair in an effort to
get it to stay down, cursing himself for dropping his pins. I’ll get them now, and maybe some
macaroni.

He activated Light Snow, throwing a blanket of invisibility over himself, and silently opened the
door. The hallways were deserted save for the short kid from earlier staring at a door to one of the
girl’s rooms- Tsuyu, according to the sign. He’s drooling . This kid is revolting . After sneaking to
the front door of the building, he took an actual look at the central room. There were three couches
set in a semi ‘C’ shape around a rather large TV mounted on a wall. A steel gray shag rug lined the
area between the couch and the wall the TV was mounted on. A wooden coffee table sat in the
middle of the three couches, barren of coffee but covered in magazines of various themes. Some
had unfamiliar athletes, some had pretty people on the covers, but the words were practically
illegible.

His macaroni mission now abandoned, he moved closer to inspect the magazines. The words he
could make out only made sense sometimes, with one magazine with some redheaded hero’s
headline ‘Crimson’ something. Casting an illusion over the table, he picked a magazine and leaned
into the couch behind him.

Flipping through the pages revealed nothing new about his understanding of the written language,
but it had huge pictures, some spanning the full two pages with words over top. Occasionally, the
words were in the vaguely recalled English, of which Tanizaki knew only a handful of
conversational phrases. There weren’t enough english words to make an assessment of their
accuracy, but he figured they were probably wrong, too.

This is because I’m in a new universe, isn’t it. He had thought about it, and considering all the
other weird crap he had been putting up with so far, interdimensional travel had regretfully not been
eliminated for the list of possibilities. Tanizaki despised not knowing where he was, but the more
he thought about the strange absurdity of this place, the more his skull ached.

Tanizaki made the executive decision to not dwell on the possibility of never seeing Naomi again
as he ditched the magazines to make himself some macaroni, preferably without getting distracted
again.

The kitchen was empty except for a single student, but she was listening to music while filling out
some unreadable worksheet at the table and looked like she could pass out at any moment. He cast
an illusion over the kitchen and dropped Light Snow’s invisibility on himself. As quietly as he
could, both to not disturb her and to not be noticed, he got a box of precooked mac and cheese and
took it out of the box. He got a knife to cut the plastic covering the meal and sliced three lines into
it. Putting the macaroni in the microwave, he pushed the door closed near-silently and pushed the
button for 4 minutes (a time he used when making this back home, with Naomi) before backing up,
putting his hands by hips and pushing himself up to sit on the counter.

He watched the box spin in the microwave like a leopard in a zoo watches people from its cage--
barely interested, but aware. After the 4 minutes were almost up, he bounced back to the floor to
open the door before the timer finished counting down. He undid the plastic binding and stirred the
macaroni before returning it to the microwave for an additional two minutes.

Instead of sitting on the counter, Tanizaki plopped himself onto the floor. The wood had likely
been sanded, but definitely not heated. He debated getting up again before abandoning that idea for
shifting so his feet were pressed against a cabinet, keeping his legs above the floor. He was so
focused on finding a balance of leg-up to leg-down that he had completely forgotten about the
microwave.

Its timer ran out with a shriek seeming much shriller now that he wanted it to be quiet. He ripped
the door open to quell the sound, like that would work. The girl sitting at the table jumped a mile
into the air and knocked her knees against the table before ripping her headphones out---actually,
under scrutiny, they appeared to just be her ears, not headphones--- and frantically looking around
for the source of the noise.

She swore, “What in God’s name was that?”

Tanizaki dropped Light Snow, glaring at the microwave. “It’s just me,” His voice cracked.

She stared at him, vague concern and the remains of panic on her face. “Do you want me to
leave?” Her eyebrows pinched. She was nothing if not aware of boundaries.

He grabbed the macaroni from the microwave and put it on the counter. “It’s, uh. It’s fine,” His
eyes were drilling additional holes into the noodles. She just needed to shush . Please. Just for a
second. He breathed deep to calm himself, but before he could, she asked---

“Are you sure?” She gathered her things and rose, “I can leave if you---,”

The eight words she had said proved too stressful as he slammed his mac and cheese on the
counter. “I said it’s fine! ” He snarled. Great, now she’s actually going to leave. She furrowed her
brows in thought before spreading her things back out and moving over to him.
Liquid cheese had splattered over the counter, and occasional stray noodles decorated Tanizaki’s
hair. Not much had left the container, but the mess resurfaced the memory of crying in his room,
then the recollection that he might never see Naomi, or Astushi, or---

The girl bear hugged him, tight, and he started crying into her shoulder. She rubbed circles into his
back, like Naomi. He sobbed, and she was saying something, what was she saying?

“It’s okay, we’ll get you back to Naomi, you’ll be just fine here,” She was still talking. Had he
mentioned Naomi out loud?

She broke from the hug when he did. “My name’s Jirou. It’s good to meet you, even under the, uh,”
she glanced around, “current circumstances,”

Tanizaki smiled wetly, cheeks damp, and turned to his meal. “Where are your forks?”

Shigaraki was fuming . First, there was the fiasco where Kurogiri messed up his portal so bad they
were in a completely unfamiliar city, then there was the barely planned kidnapping in an attempt to
appease his Master before he even found out, then there was the return , which was a thousand
times worse than actually going to the other random city, then the redheaded peace offering had
locked him in his own cell and bolted.

He slammed his head down on the bar counter and groaned as loud as he could.

Master’s static voice filtered through the room, “You failed me,”

Shigaraki bolted up and moved to his master’s screens, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t know what
his power was, you didn’t tell me ,” He dared not let anger creep into his voice. If he sounded
angry, then Master, he would be angry with him! I couldn’t live with that. He kept his dry eyes
trained on the stained stone floors.

“You moved without my approval,” His stern voice was hard steel and as unforgiving as a desert
sun. Shigaraki averted his eyes from the faint glow. He licked his lips and nearly cut his tongue.

“It was an accident, surely you didn’t think I would disobey you?” It was true, he really hadn’t
planned on traveling to that alien city. He had been attempting to scout out a possible opportunity
to strike the hero students, but he and Kurogiri somehow ended up in a completely different world.

“And you thought the boy would suffice as an apology? The boy who escaped, under your
watchful eye?” His words were biting, dripping poison sarcasm, and Shigaraki felt each syllable cut
his skin. “The boy’s arrival here is all your fault, surely you know?” He was mocking him now,
Shigaraki knew.

Shigaraki gave the smallest nod.

“Then I’m sure you know of where you traveled to,” He sounded as though he knew the answer,
yet Shigaraki couldn’t be sure until he continued speaking in his electric rasp.

“You and Kurogiri traveled to Yokohama. It is a world different than ours, and you had the
misfortune of taking one of the greater abilities. Yokohama natives will not be happy with you, and
nor am I.”
 Thoughts and questions raced through Shigaraki’s head. Yokohama? And abilities? He wanted to
question these ‘abilities’ but fear of disappointing his master stayed his tongue.

He continued, “Surely you have no idea what it is I am speaking about, and so I will grant you this
information.” Shigaraki looked up to the screen as though it was the Messiah. “Yokohama is a city
in which the vast majority of people are quirkless. In this city, there exists a small portion of people
with powers known as abilities. Most abilities are vastly more powerful than quirks. You have the
displeasure of stealing one of the greater abilities.”

Shigaraki hesitated again, “How do you know all this?”

“Because I traveled there once before.”

Chapter End Notes

sorry for the worst cliffhanger EVER, but I really couldn't find a good way to continue
the scene. I guess y'all are definitely going to stay for the hiatus? Also sorry that the
formatting keeps changing every chapter, I'm going back and fixing it today so all the
chapters look like this one.
the hiatus is done, i realize that this story has more potential than i was giving
it
Chapter Summary

im back ;)

Chapter Notes

oh my god. i'm sorry yall. school has been rough, to say the least. not to mention that
my hyper fixation is a tv show dubbed in chinese, which i can't speak, so i can't even
multitask. why do i do this to msyself. ANYWAY, yall's comments have been ginving
me inspiration, which is good but also bad because the story length estimate just keeps
getting longer. but it's no biggie. i'll try to keep to the update schedule, but idk how
long that's gonna work out. i might have to call for another week, i hope you huys don't
mind

See the end of the chapter for more notes

There had never been chaos of this extreme since the Dead Apple incident, and that was saying
something.

Nakahara chuckled lightly and spun in his swivel chair like a child in the face of the
pandemonium. Every group in Yokohama had scrambled to either defend themselves against
allegations of a kidnapping, or to get their boy back. The Armed Detective Agency would clearly
stop at nothing, and that included accusing their enemy of kidnapping, especially in the face of
zero evidence. The day after that red haired kid— Tani-something, he thought, putting little effort
into actually remembering— had gotten kidnapped, everyone in the Armed Detective Agency had
lost their damn minds. Even more, if reports were to be believed, even that 30-something year old
detective couldn’t figure out what happened. Nakahara figured he and the rest of the ADA were
overcompensating with aggression to hide their panic, but there was really no way to confirm.

Nakahara could hardly contain his boredom, with the rotation of his chair winding down, finally
throwing his head back and rising from his dark leather chair. His jacket, hanging limply over the
back of a wooden chair in a far corner, practically begged to be worn. Walking over to grab it, he
briefly paused to look down at the papers on his desk. One, near the top on the pile, was an
unopened black folder being held closed by three metal clips. Brow furrowed and jacket forgotten,
Nakahara undid the clips and looked into the file.

The text, so small it was practically unreadable, seemed to describe an unfamiliar man who had
arrived at the Port Mafia’s main building and asked after the old boss. Apparently, the appearance
of this man had been a few years ago, before Nakahara had joined the Port Mafia.

There were more blank information blocks than filled ones, so consider Nakahara’s interest piqued.
Files on people of interest to the Port Mafia normally comprise a sheet of paper with the person’s
information— address, workplace, maiden name if applicable, things of the like. The person’s
clearest image would usually be bound to the first page of the folder with one or two paper clips,
but the only image in this file looked as though the person taking it tripped midway through the
shot. From what Nakahara could make out, the man had pale hair and didn’t look in the least bit
threatening. Or maybe that was the photograph’s quality. Or Nakahara’s overconfidence in his own
strength.

A file would then have at least ten pages of reports regarding the incident that made them a person
of interest. Apparently, this man had wandered up to the Port Mafia headquarters and demanded to
speak to the Boss, then killed all but two of the people in the hall he had entered when they didn’t
let him up immediately. Nakahara bit back a scowl. At least when he killed someone, they
deserved it.

The only categories that had been filled were the gender and the column to either guess or describe
a person's ability. This time had been a guess, but apparently he remained uninjured no matter how
many bullets were fired into him as he left. The box read ‘Healing or Hard Skin’, so there was an
idea, but not a fact.

The papers in the back of the file described the event in more detail as depicted by the cameras and
the two survivors. They weren’t anyone important, but the past Boss had promoted them after the
attack, for reasons unannounced. The old Boss’s mind was leaving him, then.

According to the file, the mystery man had appeared around 6 years ago, massacred the first floor
main office, then left without speaking to the Boss. How idiotic , Nakahara barely restrained
himself for snapping the file closed altogether. What was the point of murdering those people if
you were just gonna leave? “How. . . pretentious,” He trailed off, noticing the last line of text on
the second, and seemingly final, page.

“Subject has no additional data.”

It had been a lazy saturday afternoon, but not for long.

Tanizaki had been in this strange country, this Not-Japan, for almost eight days, and a grand total of
nothing had happened for the past three. He longed for literally anything kind of action, a scene,
something , until his inner Kunikida slammed the top of an imaginary table and told him to specify.
Tanizaki shrugged and groaned in response to a 100% mental conversation, drawing a pair of
confused glances from two students sitting within eyeshot.

Tanizaki glanced over from his spot on an armchair, sinking down so his back was pressed against
the bottom cushion. His legs, dangling over one of the arms, were socked in mismatching tiger and
cat socks that he’d bought at Not-Japan’s version of a dollar store. They were significantly lower in
quality than he’d like, but they were warm enough, and he was reminded of Atsushi and Naomi
wherever he looked at them. Tanizaki couldn’t decide if it was a nice feeling, remembering the
ADA, yet. He figured he hadn’t been gone long enough.

Then, as Tanizaki had nearly slid his way off the armchair and onto the ground, someone burst into
the dorm room. Tanizaki flinched so hard he fell in a heap from the chair onto the floor. In the
frenzy of righting himself, he activated Light Snow’s invisibility on himself and the two students at
 the table. They were Midoriya and Bakogou. Bakugo was, by Midoriya alone, referred to as
‘Kacchan’ in a more affectionate way than Tanizaki figured was considered appropriate in this
Not-Japan. But hey, who was he to judge? He had found Kenji cute before he found out he was 14
(afterwards, any romantic attraction was swiftly replaced with a more brotherly endearment). Girls,
though , he sighed internally before snapping back to the moment.

He leapt over a sofa and side table, landing socked toes first in near silence, to the main table so he
could shush the two boys before they panicked and blew their cover. Tanizaki’s back, turned to the
door, suddenly bloomed with heat in a feeling similar to sticking his face into an oven, right into
the waft of hot air. Now, kneeling before Midoriya and Bakugo, he gestured with a savage sense of
panic to the other side of the table and a screenless window. Tanizaki himself had taken out a few
of the screens— not for this exact scenario, but in preparation for something similar.

However, while he was swimming in a stew of anxiety, ebbing horror, and adrenaline, he almost
missed the two boys, both glaring an armory’s worth of daggers at whoever had entered.

Tanizaki turned his head, still under the wooden table, to see an unfamiliar male figure— his body
was cut off just below the shoulders by the underside of the table. Tentatively, Tanizaki made his
way out from the table, terrified he would be heard despite Light Snow’s blanket over him,
Bakugo, and Midoriya. Speaking of the two, they were about to get up-

Tanizaki grabbed their legs without thinking, pulling roughly them back down to their seats. When
they turned to glare at him in shock and offense, he shook his head madly. Choose your battles.
This is not the one you should choose.

The hulking man thundered down to the boy’s hallway and Midoriya and Bakugo’s inner fight
sprung anew.

Finally, after the man had turned a corner, seemingly searching for a specific room, Tanizaki
snapped at the two, now a second away from ripping their pant legs in their efforts to escape.

Tanizaki whispered madly through clenched teeth, “ What the hell do you think you’re doing? ”

Bakugo took a shuddering, rabid breath, in seeming preparation to scream at him, before Midoriya
grabbed his upper arm, then himself turned to Tanizaki, whispering just as angrily, “ We were
trying to protect our friend, until you stopped us!”

Tanizaki’s brow furrowed, “ Who is this ‘ friend’ of yours? And who was that who just came in?”

The three wordlessly decided the time for whispering was done and gone. Bakugo spoke now, at a
normal level but still quiet considering how loud he normally spoke, “That was Endeavor. His son
goes here, he’s our classmate. He moved out of his father’s house at the beginning of the year. I
figure it’s because he doesn’t want any of his shitty behavior to reach the public, but Todo- Shouto,
I mean, might have just lost his patience with his father. I mean can you blame him? But
Endeavor’s here . And so is Shouto. We need to help him. Right. Now .”

Tanizaki grimaced in the face of this information. He reluctantly rose, pulling himself up with the
support of the table. In general, Tanizaki wouldn’t normally interfere in another person’s affairs,
but this was child abuse . Even if Endeavor could break every bone in his body, inaction was
enabling, and that, in Tanizaki’s eyes, was just as bad.

So, in fierce determination, the three of them steeled themselves to confront an abuser.

Chapter End Notes

Chapter End Notes

hehe. the only reason it's like this is because i should have been in bed like a half hour
ago and i was already tired. sorry folx. don't expect anything from me anymore.
 flames
Chapter Summary

uh. there's an escalation. the hope of a functional timeline has officially left the chat.

Chapter Notes

im sorry for the quality (spelling, grammar, general mood), im in a bit of a funk atm. i
should be better by the next chapter though.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

The trio stalked under the guise of an empty hallway. Tanizaki’s ability shielded them from the
potential danger of being sighted by Endeavor, but not from the decayed plaster from the ceiling
flaking down onto their heads. Or the flames licking at the corners of the hallway. Or from hearing
his booming footsteps, or from bone chilling dread. None of them had any clue as to what exactly
they would do once they arrived at Shouto's room, yet Tanizaki’s classmate’s blood burned with
the passion that accompanied the act of something illegal but morally right. As they neared
Shouto’s room, the walls grew darked and more charred, presumably from the flames flickering
about the enraged ‘hero’s’ body. The occasional framed artwork had been nearly obliterated, the
frame cracked and the paper held within it had crumbled to dust and ash on the floor. Bakugou and
Midoriya glowered, simmered with barely concealed rage, walking in a way similar to a stalking
predator but much faster down the hallway in a presumed effort to arrive at Shouto’s room before
Endeavor did.

Tanizaki, staying in the back of the line not out of cowardice, but out of practical necessity, barely
knew where they were going. He knew they were following some flame-user, but he had no
context for any rage the students before him felt. He still couldn’t read this language, despite
getting daily lessons from Nedzu and some other teachers at UA, so any article was worthless to
him unless someone read it out loud. It might work, but Nedzu told Tanizaki to avoid letting any of
the students know of his ‘homeworld’, as Nedzu put it, for fear of inciting mass panic.

But still, Tanizaki’s Ability had almost no strengths in direct combat. As much as he hated it, he
would be of little help once the two heavy hitters lost the element of surprise. Unless . . . Unless
he could think up a way for the confrontation to be minimalized, or maybe even completely
eliminated.

Tanizaki hesitated and pursed his lips for a moment before asking Bakugou, “Does- does he know
what your quirks are?”

Midoriya heard, responding in such a loud whisper he may as well have just been talking, “I don’t
think so? He’s only seen me once or twice, Bakugou?”

“I’d say once, back with that sludge villain,” Even though Tanizaki was behind him, he could tell
Bakugou was grimacing. “But I was, uh,” He faltered in his speech for a moment before
continuing, “I was pretty pathetic back then. I’m stronger now, thanks to my training,”
Tanizaki’s brow furrowed, concerned, but he let it go for now. He and Bakugou weren’t close
enough for it to be his business, and there were more pressing matters at hand. “So could the both
of you make it seem like you do better in close quarters?”

Midoriya and Bakugou nodded, but Midoriya asked, “Why? Wider areas are more fitting for his
Quirk type, why would you play to his strengths?”

“Well, is the outside not more fitting for your Abilit- Quirks, too? But no offense, I doubt either of
you could beat him in a fight, especially if he’s this angry.” He chewed his cheek, reconsidering
his plan. “Actually, you may not need to fight-” But before he could finish his thought, the trio
turned a corner to see Endeavor--- and what he’d done to Shouto’s door.

The remaining wood, barely hanging to the glowing red-hot hinges, had been reduced to blacked
ash. The center carpet that originally painted a line down the middle of the hall, that used to be a
lovely red, melted onto the wooden floors, the plastic in the base bubbling in a steaming
semicircle. And in the center stood Endeavor himself, glowering and screaming at Shouto, unseen
in his room. Each time his voice rose, the flames on his shoulders shot out, reaching so far it
brushed Midoriya’s face.

Tanizaki whispered above Endeavor’s screaming, “Is there a phone around here?”

Bakugou, immediately and without looking back, took his phone, from his back pocket, unlocked
it, and gave it to Tanizaki, “Call Mr. Aizawa. Or the cops- No, call Mr. Aizawa. He’ll actually do
something,”

There was clearly a story there, but Tanizaki didn’t have time to delve into his classmate’s personal
life. Before he called anyone though, he grabbed Bakugou’s shoulder and stopped Midoriya.
“Before either of you do something stupid and get yourselves killed, I have an idea that involves,
ah, minimal violence.”

The boys looked unconvinced.

Tanizaki tried again, playing to their desires and speaking low enough he wasn’t overheard,
“Endeavor will look like a complete idiot if it works, too,”

Bakugou’s eyes widened, then narrowed in disbelief, “Tell me the plan,” Midoriya nodded.

“You’ve seen my Ability, yeah?”

They nodded. “But only once, and you left before explaining,”

Huh. “Ok, well it’s basically I can make things seem like they’re something else. So I could cast
Light Snow--- that’s my Ability’s name, by the way--- over Shouto’s room, make it seem like he’s
still sitting there, or whatever he’s doing, then take him and leave. You two can get everyone else
out so they don’t get hurt when Endeavor finds out I’ve duped him and sets the whole building on
fire. And in the slightest possibility he finds me, I’ll run to the front gates of the school. Does that
sound good?”

Bakugou grimaced, glancing to Endeavor, who had started moving into his son’s room, and how
flames licked at every available piece of exposed skin. “Are you sure you can handle it?”

“I wouldn’t have suggested it if not.” He pushed Bakugou’s phone back into Bakugou’s hand.
“You two, call Aizawa and get people out. I’ll meet you by the front gates.” He turned to go, then
turned back, “And be quiet. ”
Bakugou and Midoriya split up, the former calling Aizawa and turning a corner for more rooms.
Tanizaki didn’t spare them a second glance. There was work to do.

Tanizaki’s focus narrowed as he rounded the doorway behind Endeavor. Endeavor’s words, soaked
and dripping undiluted rage, were nearly unintelligible. Tanizaki could make out every third word
or so, but he didn’t care to pay actual attention to what he was saying.

He walked around the hero, socked toe on short carpet first, then soft pad of his heel, in silence.
Tanizaki stood behind Endeavor, but in Shouto’s line of sight, when he noticed the scar over his
eye. How have I been here an entire week and not noticed that even once? He could credit it to
how Tanizaki wasn’t attending classes; he couldn’t read this language, so it would be a waste of
time, but how did they never see each other in the hallways?

Vowing to ask Shouto later, he lowered Light Snow just enough to be a faint silhouette and waited
a moment for Shouto to notice him. Shouto’s unscarred eye widened as he noticed Tanizaki’s
admittedly creepy shadow-self, outlined in neon green, before he steeled his expression. He
avoided looking at his father, which served only to enrage Endeavor further.

In a barely audible whisper, Tanizaki summoned Light Snow and cast it over the room. Moving
into Endeavor’s line of sight was a risk. He probably had some training in detection, especially if
Tanizaki was less than three feet away from him. He might be able to feel anything--- his body
heat, his breathing, or even his heart, which was hammering harder than it ever had. Tension roiled
his blood as he moved as quietly as he could to Shouto.

Tanizaki, stepping between Shouto and his father, cast Light Snow on the room and dropped his
invisibility. Endeavor still couldn’t see him, but Shouto could. Tanizaki pressed a hand to his own
mouth and shook his head. Hopefully he gets the message . Endeavor’s flames licked at Tanizaki’s
back and shoulders. He had half a mind to be angry about his sweater; it was certainly being
charred.

Tanizaki grabbed Shouto’s wrist and moved back out of the room, leaving an illusory version of
Shouto sitting in the exact same position. But before they could leave the room, Endeavor abruptly
stopped screaming insults. Tanizaki froze, blood chilling and stomach turning. He pulled at
Shouto’s arm harder and ran to the door, trying desperately to stay quiet.

Endeavor moved towards the illusion, seemingly ready to physically assault it, as he pulled his arm
back and up. If he knows, we’re in deep . Tanizaki, desperate to not be burned alive, yanked Shouto
and shoved him out of the room, following close behind him. Tanizaki nearly slipped as he rapidly
turned right down the hallway, back the way he, Bakugou and Midoriya had arrived. He turned for
a moment to see Endeavor rocketing a fist through the illusion of his son, the pixels dispelling into
the air.

“ Run!” The terror twisted his guts. Tanizaki’s legs could barely support him, he half pushed, half
leaned on Shouto as they ran down the hallway. A wall of flames brust from the doorway, eating
through plaster and wooden support pillars. Wallpaper cracked and split, the ashen remnants
fluttering to the floor- the floor that was also aflame, orange fingers grasping at any available
surface. Any attempt at remaining quiet had been dispelled--- this was life and death now.

“Shouto, listen to me,” Speaking scratched his throat and Tanizaki could feel the heat pulling
moisture out of his mouth. “We need to get to the front gates of the school, you got it?”

Shouto’s eyes were wide but vacant, his skin pale but burned. Tanizaki saw his hands shaking.

Tanizaki huffed and grimaced, pushing Shouto harder and around the corner to the common area,
 which had been all but decimated. Not sparing time to look around, the two moved to the door,
opening it, before hearing Endeavor’s enraged scream from around the hall.

The sound shook the two students to their bones, both standing stock still until Shouto snapped out
of the trance. “Tanizaki!” Shouto screamed right into his face.

Tanizaki started. “We need to leave. Right. Now .”

Shouto shook his head violently. “My friends are still in the building. There’s no way to get me to
leave. Call the fire department or something without me. I’m not letting this happen.”

Tanizaki’s face pinched, but then, “No, I get it. But there’s no way I’m- you could die, you know
that? Bakugou and Midoriya are getting people out right now.” He took a deep, shuddering breath.
“Everyone is going to be fine.” He was trying to convince himself, too. But no matter the situation,
invisibility doesn’t do much against fire.

Shouto was barely convinced. “You think two people will be able to get twenty out by the time his
fire eats through the support beams? You really believe that?” Before Tanizaki could say anything
in response, Shouto turned and ran back into the flaming building.

“ No! ” There was no way. There was no way! He had not just run into a flaming building. Not a
chance. Tanizaki spluttered for a moment, but a moment too long.

A piercing crack , and wood smashed through the ceiling inside, blocking the hallway Shouto had
ran through.

Chapter End Notes

i really can't catch a break, huh? first my hiatus, then the holidays, then my family had
to get into an argument when i was right in the middle of the kitchen, then my sister
slammed the door to our room shut but my charger was in there so i had to go in while
she was basically comatose in her bed. but i found my phone, so i guess theres a silver
lining. oh well. ill be fine in the morning.
 i practice writing injuries
Chapter Summary

;)

Chapter Notes

thank you all so much for the support, guys!!!!!!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Tanizaki could do little but curse his luck and run around to the side of the building. I can help
from here. I can do something from the outside. There had to be at least one student trapped on
the ground floor, right? Most of the glass had shattered from the heat, leaving sharp edges along
the borders and on the sills. He could hear distant explosions from inside the building, but whether
that was Bakugou or something else, Tanizaki didn’t know.

But his legs wouldn’t work. He couldn’t move. His eyes, straining under the lights of the flames,
were locked on the beams and debris that had fallen and smothered the hallway Shouto ran down.
I need to move. But he couldn’t get his muscles to do what he told them to.

His eyes widened more, breath coming in quick bursts. The formerly welcoming walls of the dorm
building glowered at him, shattered windows boring into his soul with critical gazes. Yellow and
orange fire leaned outside the windows and licked up the outside walls, engulfing them in a blanket
of heat.

There’s. . . nothing. Nothing I can do.

Tanizaki’s stomach dropped as he finally came to his senses. My friends. All my friends here are in
this building. And it’s on fire. Where was Aizawa? If Bakugou had called him before the fire had
started, then he should be here. He should be here! He moved around the side of the building,
looking over to where Aizawa should be coming from, expecting to see nothing.

Instead, he saw what could easily be described as the greatest thing in his life. It was Aizawa, and
with him were three policemen and Nedzu, being carried on one of their shoulders, along with
distant sirens that were getting louder. Aizawa’s eyes, visible from the distance from which he was
running, widened, his mouth widening in brief horror before he schooled his face into harsh
determination.

Less than half a minute and the group reached Tanizaki. He surely looked awful— burn marks
laced the skin of his back, his face, his arms. His poor sweater’s back had been charred across his
shoulders down to his hips, nearly split like a jacket worn backward. The brim of his pants wasn’t
faring much better. His red hair had been coated in a thick layer of ash that flaked down to his
shoulders with every movement. Even though he had been given new clothes, they were little more
than embers now.
Aizawa stopped in front of Tanizaki, squeezing him into a hug. “Thank the Gods you’re alright,
Tanizaki.” He unwrapped his arms, then grabbed Tanizaki’s shoulders. “Where is everyone?”

Tanizaki released a shuddering breath, then glanced to the building. Aizawa’s eyes darkened.
“They’re all. . . They’re all in there. Everyone.”

Aizawa dropped his hands. “All. . ?” His voice dripped with despair.

Tanizaki wasn’t doing much better. His breath, a bit steadier now that his teacher was here, gave
only hot air from the fire, ever-expanding, eating at the building. The police were just standing
there, idly, staring at the flames with a distant fear and a vague disinterest. One seemed almost
bored. Another reached into his pocket for a cigarette.

Tanizaki snapped. He didn’t think, pushing Aizawa to the side by his arms and activating Light
Snow.

In less than a second, the three cops saw nothing but eternal and smothering darkness. No stars, no
planets, no meteors, nothing but their bodies, suspended in unending gloom. Tanizaki, carefully,
without moving a muscle, created a massive hand of dark matter, full of swirling stars with red and
purple, like blood mixed with wine, grabbing at the policemen. Their screams were shrill, high
pitched, laced with terror, yet Tanizaki felt nothing- no joy, no sorrow, no disgust- at the
undoubted lasting trauma he was causing. The men’s inaction and disinterested responses to his
friends being burned alive earned them this. Tanizaki stared at them, their faces growing sweaty
and eyes bulging, hands grabbing at the hope of avoiding the unknown fate the hand had in store.

Until it was over. Tanizaki whipped his head around to see Aizawa, who had recovered from being
thrown to the ground, staring at him with horrified eyes turned red. His mouth opened and shut
with unformed words, eyes gazing into Tanizaki’s soul, trying to figure out what could have
possessed him to do something this cruel. The police officers were gasping for breath on the
ground. One was crying.

Someone was screaming from inside the building. One of his friends. No one could help. It
sounded like Naomi-

Tanizaki broke into sobs not from guilt, but because of the fates of classmates he failed to protect.
For failing to save the one person he could have— Shouto, who ran back into the fire without
hesitating because he had the chance to save at least one person.

Aizawa stayed where he lay, sitting up but not moving to comfort his newest student. Tanizaki had
the workings of a villain, as much as Aizawa hated to admit it to himself. Seeing Tanizaki torture
those cops without a second to think it through, no hesitating to hurt those who would refuse to
help his friends, it was no small blessing the two ran into each other a few days ago— there was no
telling the destruction he could have caused in the hero world had he befriended the League.

But his students were dying, and the only one who was in even the most generous definition of
safety was wrecked mentally, and so were the police he had brought. The fire engine sirens had
grown ever louder— the truck must be just around a corner. Only a minute, a minute and a half
tops.

The front door had collapsed almost entirely, covering the only access to the building except for
windows, but entering through there was dangerous for a few reasons, the least of which being that
the rooms they opened from were still-

There was a person in an upper window. They were preparing to jump. It was Kaminari, his face
red and burned, his clothes singed. Someone pushed him down, violently, but he moved
surprisingly slow, and after reaching around halfway, began to float back up, before falling faster to
the ground. Uraraka, it must be. Despite the situation, Aizawa swelled with pride.

But then more people arrived at the window, one pushed out after the other. Tokoyami, then Koda,
then Aoyama, then Ojiro, then Tanizaki was up and running to them, and so was Aizawa. The fire
truck pulled around the other corner of the building, firemen leaping out and unraveling a massive
hose. Two of them took off their gloves and sprayed their own water and the windows. No one
tried to enter the building, but two of the firemen moved to clear the doorway.

There were still 15 people unaccounted for somewhere in the building. More students were pushed
out of the window as the fire snapped at the innards of the dorm building— two at a time now,
Sato and Sero, then Ashido and Asui, then Jirou and Yaoyozuru, then Uraraka herself, rolling on
landing.

Aizawa moved through the herd of burned students, some burned more severely than others, trying
to assess injuries. Kaminari caught his eye first- his arms were both scorched, burned up to his
shoulders and across his chest. His shirt, which probably had words on it at one point, was fraying
and charred. His feet were burned, too, he had likely had to run across flaming wood. Everyone had
to, save for those wearing socks.

Another window, and another stream of people. It was three down from where everyone was, and
Aizawa and Tanizaki ran over to it. Someone stepped onto the sill. It was Hagakure, with faint
blood trails on her skin the only visible injuries. She spotted the two below her, screaming
hoarsely, “Please catch me!” Before leaping from the upper floor.

Aizawa and Tanizaki readied themselves, joining hands to create a landing spot and positioning
themselves under the falling girl. They caught her, Tanizaki’s knees buckling under the sudden
weight, then dropped her as another student appeared. Shoji, looking the least injured of all the
students so far, with Mineta on his back, unfurled his wings and glided down.

A lower window shattered outward, spraying Tanizaki’s back and thighs with shards of glass. He
screamed and collapsed fully to the ground, blood seeping around the wounds. He lay there, on his
stomach, feeling glass move and slice his skin every time he took a breath.

Through the haze of pain and breathless inhalation, he saw Iida and Kirishima stumbling out of a
window, Iida looking around in a blind panic, one eye bright red and agitated. Blood trailed down
his cheek from his forehead, leaving bright red lines on his pale skin. He was screaming,
screaming that he couldn’t see, that his eye was gone, and Aizawa stopped examining wounds
and sprinted to Iida.

“Iida, don't- don’t look around, don’t move your eye, you’ll be okay, I’ll get you to a hospital and
you’ll be fine .” Iida collapsed into Aizawa’s arms, staring half-blind into the sun.

An ambulance siren, presumably called by one of the firemen, or perhaps the police officers who
were starting to recover, but still avoided Tanizaki like the plague. The vehicle rounded the same
corner the fire truck had, wheels skidding and squealing on the cement.

It came to a stop twenty or so feet from Aizawa and Iida, thirty from where Tanizaki lay in an
excellent imitation of a dying porcupine, sixty from the crowd of burned teenagers. The paramedics
leaped from the truck and opened the back, pulling the bed from the back. One of them grabbed
Iida as gently and quickly as she could. Calling another paramedic to support his body as they
lifted him onto the stretcher, then into the ambulance. Tanizaki groaned to get their attention, the
paramedics turning to see Tanizaki laying on his side, heaving airless breaths.
 Iida, blind on the stretcher, was pulled up into the ambulance by a paramedic who had been in the
back preparing whatever medical supplies they had. The other two paramedics rushed to Tanizaki,
who was bleeding worse now.

Tanizaki tried to move, to shimmy away from the fire, from the burning pain the glass caused,
from his fear for his friends, but the paramedics pushed him over onto his stomach, with his glass
embedded back facing the sun. They injected him with something, then all thought is beyond him.

The paramedic closest to him was saying. . . Something. The awareness of the glass, moving
around in his skin, the occasional jab of pain, the blood dripping down his back to the ground were
all fading to obscurity. He could barely tell the ground from the sky, the paramedic’s speech
sounding vaguely like sounds, unable to be understood. He took another, shaken, breath, trying in
vain to get enough oxygen.

Tanizaki felt lighter than helium, gazing through his own eyes but feeling so—so soft, like his
brain was nothing but rot and cotton, unthinking and unresponsive to the paramedic waving a hand
over his face. Or was she reaching for something? Tanizaki couldn’t tell anymore. He didn’t
understand what the lady was saying— something about spinal injuries? He didn’t like the sound
of that.

Then someone was lifting him— was it the same lady? A light ‘oof’ and he was laying in a bed
facedown. No, no, no! I hate sleeping on my stomach. I-I have to turn around. He shifted his arms
up before he tried to flop onto his back, but before he could, someone pressed hard on the base of
his neck, effectively slamming him back onto the bed.

Muffled, from far underwater, a voice called, “If. . . try that. . . this bed myself,” Tanizaki turned
his head to look at who had said that. She braced herself as motion jolted him to the back of the
ambulance.

He moved his arm, gesturing to the paramedic. “Thas. . thas very rude.” His speech slurred as his
eyes drooped.

She responded, surely, but Tanizaki couldn’t understand a word as he drifted to full
unconsciousness.

Chapter End Notes

:))))))))
 a brief respite
Chapter Summary

The detectives grieve, each in their own way.

Chapter Notes

ok. i can explain.

i was going to post last weekend like normal but i had a load of science homework and
it took up way more time than i thought. i figured i could write maybe a page and i
only ended up writing like. a paragraph. and then it was just nonstop school then i
went to help my sister unpack her stuff at her college and then the weekend again! so
this is broken into two parts.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Atsushi was in Limbo. Both he and Tiger wanted nothing but to help their fellow detectives, but
their feelings were foreign to Atsushi, since he hadn’t been at the office when Tanizaki had
disappeared. He had been at home, nursing the last few days of a cold. He had been just getting
home from the store, having run out of tea, when he heard that Tanizaki was gone. He had never
moved faster, running to the office to confirm from Kunikida.

The office was disturbingly clean when he arrived, shirt untucked and hair uncombed. Every paper,
form, file, or book adorned the tables they belonged on, or decorated a bookshelf. Each chair was
pushed in fully, and the floor lay bare of crumbs or snack packaging that usually followed Ranpo.
The windows were closed tight, and the glittering light of the late afternoon only served to darken
the room. Kunikida sat at his desk ing the middle of the room, holding his head in his hands.

Atsushi approached carefully, stepping toe first on the spotless green tile. He stopped a ways away
from him, a bit farther than arm’s reach, and made a small sound in the back of his throat. It was
mainly to let Kunikida know he was there, but he flinched so hard Atsushi regretted eleven entering
the room.

“Hey, hey, are you---” Atsushi stopped, realizing the answer was obvious.

Without answering, Kunikida rose and, turning on his heels, walked out of the office.

Atsushi sighed and drew his brow together, concern gnawing at him. He should visit everyone
else, just to be safe.

---
Naomi was losing her mind. She hadn’t showered in a week and her hair had tied itself into so
many knots she hadn’t tried to comb it for four days. Take-out boxes littered the ground since she
couldn’t bring herself to prepare a meal for only herself, but hated wasting food--- she tried to make
enough for two people to try and stave off intense loneliness, but it soon became too much food for
her or her paycheck to handle. She hadn’t swept, hadn’t washed her sheets, hadn’t even taken out
her trash since two days after her brother vanished.

In other words, she was a wreck.

Atsushi had paid her a warm visit four days ago ---Or had it been three days? Oh well. It worked,
since Atsushi gave the best hugs and could eat enough food to starve a small town. There was no
shortage of things to do. But he had to leave eventually, and as much as he had tried, he couldn’t
coax Naomi to leave her house.

She felt bad for making Atsushi help her clean, but he hadn’t seemed too upset about it, even if
they could only get through one room. They hugged, he left. Naomi barely held back her tears until
the door closed, a soft click as the lock slid into place. Sobbing into her hands, her sight blurred,
she pushed her way to her room and collapsed to the bed. She hadn’t gotten up since, except to eat
the occasional instant ramen or to go to her bathroom.

Lifting her blanket, hunger gripping her guts, revealed a horrible stench. A sharp scent of sweat
and tears and the smell of noodles she had eaten when she couldn’t bring herself to be away from
the comfort of her bed for longer than it took her to prepare a cup ramen.

She curled her nose and dropped the blanket. Her tears had stopped for now, but the overwhelming
sorrow and loneliness still weighed down on her. Her sheets had a few stains from the food, and the
pillow was dried around tear marks. A clean set of sheets would make her feel better, right?

----

Kenji cried when no one was looking. He tried to be supportive, be his normal, cheery, self, but
when his bedroom door closed, and Fukuzawa was out? Nothing could stop the sobs, or the
frustration, or the anger. The cops, the detectives, the Port Mafia, they just weren’t doing enough .
Kenji felt so, utterly useless, so incapable. His power served no purpose in this scenario. You don’t
need strength to find a missing friend.

He had, at first, been insistent on offering as much help to the police as he could. But on the third
day, when he was starting to struggle a smile in the presence of others, a frazzled policewoman
snapped at him. She said, and Kenji remembered her words as he kept replaying them in his head,
that he was ‘just getting in the way, kid. Let the adults work, for once.’ Kenji hadn’t gone within
two blocks of the precinct, even changing his route to get to the ADA when he felt sane enough to
actually go.

Fuzakawa, in his patient generosity, had offered to let Kenji stay in his house while he lived in
Yokohama. Kenji, of course, was eternally grateful, but the new house was huge. He had never
envied the closeness of his old village before, the cramped rooms he shared with his family, the
table barely seating everyone. But with the huge house he lived in now, the empty spaces far
outnumbered the filled ones. He could take a wrong turn and end up lost for an hour, maybe more.

He had gotten lost again, ending up in some kind of training hall, trying only to return to his room
to cry some more, to be alone, to just be , in the comfort of a temporary space, but fate had other
plans. Unfortunately for fate, he hadn’t eaten that day.

He had eviscerated the mystery training hall, stone pillars reduced to piles of sand, wood splintered
around what could have been marks of someone punching the floor. Craters decorated the glossy
wooden floors and pale paper walls, splitting plaster and paintings. And in the middle of the floor,
curled in a shaking ball was Kenji, crying in his sleep.

---

Fukuzawa knew he had made a mistake. He hadn’t been there when Tanizaki had vanished. He
hadn’t been there when Kunikida had let him leave. He had been tucked away in his room, filling
out useless paperwork on some mission he had been at the Agency building for, making up for
Ranpo’s lack of work ethic, his laziness, his gluttony for--- he was getting too judgemental.
Pointing fingers wouldn’t help anyone, nor would it make him feel any better.

He had been shuffling through a roulette wheel of negative emotions. Sometimes, severe
depression weighed him down, glueing his limbs to his bed and prohibiting him from getting up,
from eating, from bathing. Other times, rage seared through his veins, burning through him, and to
get it out he would attack whatever he could. He would try to distance himself from Kenji when it
happened, but he was sure that couldn’t last forever.

But what he really despised was the loathing, the blaming of himself and others involved, the
feeling that he could have done something, anything , to help his employee.

He had been in his bed for what felt like days. His mind had been racing with thoughts of what he
could have done. Any possibility of action had been highlighted by his mind and repeated over and
over, endless torture of could-haves. He tried his best to keep in contact with the members of the
Armed Detective Agency, but eventually most of them stopped responding, and after a while
Fukuzawa had given up. He was their boss, their mentor, their protector in a few ways.

It served no purpose moping around his house, he thought, as the rooms and halls had started to
smell faintly of must and mold. He hadn’t cleaned for days. Perhaps he could get Kenji up and
outside, open a few windows. Or he could take Atsushi up on his offer to go on a walk around
downtown.

He would sleep on it, he figured. He sank back down to his bed, pulling his covers over his head,
and lost himself again.

---

Kunikida hadn’t cried once. Not to say he didn’t care about Tanizaki, but because he was too
wrapped up in anger at himself. Crying is selfish. You did this. This is your fault. His brain would
tell him every day, every time he woke up, every time he ate, every time he breathed. The thoughts
had him in a vice grip, engulfing him in an ocean of blame.

He felt like dying, no exageration. He kept up with his personal hygiene, sure, and always at 7:45
 on the dot. He was almost out of toothpaste, but he didn’t plan to get more. He brushed his teeth
with his dwindling supply of Colgate, flossed, washed his face, but there was no washing away the
inner turmoil, the monster eating at his soul.

Atsushi tried to visit--- or, at least, he figured it was Atsushi. He heard knocking at his door the day
after he arrived at his house but he didn't deserve the presence of whoever was at the door. His
phone would ring every so often, but Kunikida didn’t deserve to answer. He didn’t deserve
anything. He deserved whatever happened to Tanizaki tenfold, and then some. He, Kunikida, was
solely at fault for whatever horrible thing happened to him. To his employee. To his friend. The
feelings of responsibility were rotting his brain.

His ‘Ideals’ book had been left on his bedside table to collect dust. He stared at it sometimes,
contemplating what weapons he could make for either himself or a hypothetical enemy. His wrists
and thighs were still smooth but he wasn’t sure how long that would last. He deserved to be
punished and if no one was going to do it, Kunikida would take matters into his own hands.

Every time he imagined getting Tanizaki back, his thoughts would contort to place him at fault.
Though, mostly, his subconscious didn’t need to do it. Kunikida placed himself in the enemy's spot
in every imagined scenario.

There was no convincing him he was not to blame.

Chapter End Notes

more to come, hopefully next week but also possibly not. expect nothing always, is
what i say.
 Chapter 8
Chapter Summary

Grief is a fickle thing.

Chapter Notes

:(
i'm going on hiatus again, sorry guys. i need to redo the plot and get my life together
before i do any passion projects. I'll try to make the next chapter about the titular
character, at least at the end. I feel bad for like, never updating and i feel like no one
actually likes this, but i'm doing this primarily for myself.

I'll see you in another month, maybe?

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Ranpo threw himself into his work. He barely slept and ate at the office, only leaving to get a bag
of chips from the convenience store, or to get a coffee. His crimes were unforgivable, and he
worked for nothing but atonement, for some imaginary forgiveness. It was his fault. It was his
suggestion that drove Tanizaki out of the ADA. It was him. Him and no one else.

He would see Kunikida in the beginning. Ranpo would arrive in the early hours of the morning,
entering the office before dawn most days, and Kunikida would be there, sitting, staring at his
papers. His eyes were blank, and his hands would always stay flat on the table, unmoving. His
breath, barely audible, came in short bursts.

But then one day he stopped coming in.

Ranpo was taking so many cases, insisting on solving them even when he wasn’t invited, even
when the police could easily have solved them alone. He learned to take trains so he could take
more cases by himself. He wasn’t solving them to catch criminals, or even to help the police force.
It was to keep the sinking feeling in his guts from spreading to the rest of his body. To his heart, to
his brain.

Then, one day, it was Astushi, saying hello right as Ranpo walked back in from his last case of the
day. He was spinning slowly on a chair, on Ranpo’s chair, right by the windows. His eyes were
dark and sad, the usually vibrant purple and yellow now dulled beneath the faint light of dusk.

“How are you holding up, Ranpo?” His voice was low, lethargic.

Ranpo didn’t reply. Did he really need to, at this point? Was there any point in even speaking?

Atsushi took this as answer enough, apparently. He nodded to himself, then got up and moved to
the door. And Ranpo. Atsushi said nothing, just grabbed Ranpo and hugged him as tight as he
could. And it was nice. The only real comfort he had felt in what felt like forever.
 ---

Yosano should probably be more upset than she is. She had been devastated when she heard the
news, and felt even worse when she came to the realization that Mori would be vital for Tanizaki to
be found. She despised Mori, and whatever he did, whenever he did it, no matter the reason.

She felt a bit numb, all things considered. If she was being totally transparent, she felt worse for not
feeling upset than she did that her friend was missing. Her apartment was clean, she still took
regular showers, and for the most part she ate regularly. But she couldn’t bring herself to visit the
other members of the Agency. It seemed to her, in some backwards way, inconsiderate of her to
visit her friends who were drowning in grief while Yosano could muster even a half smile.

The secondhand sorrow was a foul feeling, but however protective she was, it didn’t matter. She
couldn’t protect a teenager, a 16 year old boy. And now his sister was spiraling into a deep
depression, as Atsushi told her. The two of them ran into each other once last monday, and had
talked for a while about how everyone was doing. He had been to everyone’s houses, and Naomi
was faring, by far, the worst.

“She’s living in filth, and she looks awful.” He looked down to the pavement, eyes forlorn. “One of
these days, I was planning on going over and cleaning her house, would you join me?” He spoke,
his voice the usual high jitter.

Yosano nodded. They kept walking together for a while, but eventually they had to part ways. “It
was nice talking to you, Astushi. I’ll call you when I can go over Naomi’s, okay?”

Aside from Astushi, the only member of the ADA she regularly spoke to was Dazai. He seemed
alarmingly calm too, but Yosano figured he was plotting something. He was usually plotting
something. There was a glint of some emotion in his deep brown eyes, but which emotion remained
beyond her.

She only spoke with him two times, total, over the course of the two weeks. Both occasions were
on wednesdays, both at the same coffee shop. He always got black coffee, added a pack of sugar,
then, after he was halfway through the cup, he would add another.

“So, Yosano, how’ve you been?”

She adjusted the clip in her hair. “As well as can be expected. And yourself?”

Any expression Dazai wore seemed disingenuous after Yosano learned of his--- his previous career
path, but the soft smile he had now seemed real. “Fine, for now. But let me tell you about the week
I had!”

Chapter End Notes

please comment, ,,,,,, give me validation

 homies
Chapter Summary

Tanzaki? who's that? haven't had a chapter about him since last year!

Chapter Notes

i went and edited some stuff, nothing major, but i took out the foreshadowing in
chapter two because it didn't fit my new idea. please enjoy and smile for at least five
total minutes today. <3

See the end of the chapter for more notes

First thing Dazai did when he heard of Tanizaki’s disappearance was pay a visit to his chibi. It had
been a hot minute anyway, a visit was due. Unfortunately, his chibi didn’t think so.

The Post Mafia headquarters were a foreboding group of buildings. The five towers, coated in
tinted glass were a sure symbol of the kind of people one could find inside. The spires dwarfed any
and all structures in the surrounding area, rending any building less than five stories to an ant to be
crushed beneath their feet. They resembled the spikes on a crown of some wretched king, some
ruler so cruel he took all resources for himself. A hoarder. But it was a crown Dazai had once
called home, a place he once saw in a light one could call fond.

But that was no more. He was here on strictly business. Business regarding his dear coworker,
Tanizaki, a sixteen year old boy with a sister already in shambles. He made his way to Chuuya’s
room and waited for him to return.

Chuuya’s room had always been more extravagant, even if it didn’t suit the inhabitant’s particular
tastes. Each structure in his room--- the desk, its chair, his bed, his closet, hell, even his mirror,
among other things--- were made of expensive, high quality materials. His dressers were made of
the most piss-off expensive woods, most of which they’d both forgotten the names of. The back
wall was half covered in wall to ceiling windows, perfectly clear, offering a pristine view of
Yokohama. His clothes, soft cotton and linen for casual and kevlar undershirts for work events,
meant to be worn under fancier clothes, were worth more than the average Yokohaman made in ten
years. No expense was spared in Chuuya’s half threatening, half bribed entry to the Port Mafia.

After a few hours of Dazai holding a comically casual position on his chibi’s bed, the redhead
finally made an appearance. His clothes suit him, even if they were a bit torn. A stained white shirt
tucked neatly into dark dress pants, his coat thrown haphazardly over his shoulders. His shoes
shone with something coating them, maybe polish, probably blood. He was fresh from a fight,
considering the smeared blood stain marring his pale cheek and white undershirt. His hat was,
unfortunately, nowhere to be found. There went half of Dazai’s prepared jokes.

Chuuya slid his coat from his shoulders and tossed it onto a desk chair, facing away from his bed.
He seemed to be purposely ignoring Dazai as he started unbuttoning the dark red shirt he wore. He
left his arms in the sleeves as he turned to the man displaying himself on his bed, reclined atop his
bedding and wrinkling the fabric of his comforter.

He sighed, pressing two fingers to the bridge of his nose. “I’m going to give you thirty seconds to
get your mackerel ass off my bed before I come over there and beat you senseless.”

Dazai hoisted himself up, putting an overly dramatic soul in all his movements. He gave a sound
like a whine, high pitched but not pleading, before declaring to the entire coast, “Aww, chibi, you
do care! I always knew you-”

He couldn’t continue speaking as Chuuya had leapt from the other side of the room, yanked him
bodily from his bed and pinned him on the floor. “You care to continue that, mackerel?” He pulsed
Dazai’s nek into the floor before releasing him.

Dazai rubbed his rapidly bruising neck and sat up, shooting Chuuya a idiotic pout. “Chuuya, you
said you would give me thirty seconds!”

He merely got a glare in response. Dazai dropped his act, moving to the chair and sitting on the
cushion. “Have you heard?”

“Of course I have. There’s no one worth anything who hasn’t.”

“Then you’ll know even Ranpo has nothing. That’s not an everyday occurrence, you know,”

Chuuya hesitated before prompting, “But?”

“But!” Dazai clapped. “I have a suspicion. It’s not much, I’ll admit, but it’s much more than
anyone else has.”

Chuuya hummed, then scowled. “And so, you’re telling me all this why ? I’m not your dog
anymore.”

He clapped again. “That’s where you’re wrong, Chuuya ~” He drew out the name. Chuuya’s eye
twitched. “I’m calling in a favor.”

The redhead spluttered briefly before composing himself. “And what favor would that be,
exactly?”

“Why, every time I’ve brought you back from Corruption, of course! Surely you didn’t think I
wasn’t keeping track?”

He sighs. Really, what did he expect? From the brown haired asshole who dictated his every move
back when they were partners. From the scheming weasel who could bend and twist his way out of
anything. Honestly. It was unbearable. Even if Chuuya didn’t particularly want to do this, he would
probably get roped into it anyway. May as well get in while you still have the illusion of control.

“What do you need me to do?”

+++

That was two days after Tanizaki was taken. It was one of Dazai’s more eventful saturdays, all
things considered. He had told---well, more like ordered, really---Chuuya to ask Ango about a
suspicious person and refused to elaborate.
Because you already know who I mean, right?

Chuuya could have slapped him right there. Dazai could tell, from the subtle twist of his lips to the
barest turn of his head. He knows all Chuuya’s tells. He knows his favorite food (cream puffs from
a specific restaurant in the French countryside), his favorite drink (plum wine), hell, he even knew
that he stole a necklace off a woman’s neck once and had never gotten rid of it even if he was
never going to wear it (it was in a box in the false bottom of his closet). He knew him for
everything he was.

So Dazai knew he could get him to do anything, with the right pressure. Chuuya didn’t need much
convincing to help find Tanizaki, what with Mori riding his ass 24/7 to the threat of all out war
with the ADA. Chuuya was probably drowning in stress already, knowing his affinity for caring
about people he barely knew.

So Dazai gave him an outlet, a task, something to do so he wouldn’t go completely insane. It was
another step, in his long task list, to get Chuuya to like him again. Even a little. Call it
manipulation, Dazai’ll call it making use of Pavolv’s teachings. It’s really all the same.

+++

The next week was uneventful and frankly quite boring. He met up with Yosano that wednesday
and Atsushi the next friday, and they had made mind numbing small talk about Naomi and how
everyone was holding up. The general consensus was ‘not great’, but that was to be expected as
everyone else still felt the emotions of a normal person. Dazai felt sorrow like a smoker tasted
spice; poorly and diluted.

He was too busy planning to feel sad. Dazai spun around in a swivel chair in his apartment.
“Emotions are fleeting!” He called to his ceiling, surely irritating his neighbors, “Live now and feel
nothing! That’s the way to be!” The sun leaned over the horizon, dipping its rays to another part of
the world. Night was falling. This was Dazai’s time to plan, scheme, and be a nuisance to all
who’ve had the displeasure of meeting him.

He lit some scented candles and turned off his lights before sitting in front of his computer.
Scrolling through forums wasn’t his usual tactic, but it had yielded good information thus far and
saved him from doing all the thinking himself. Of course, there was still the well known cesspit of
idiocy and other assorted fools making their voices heard through the glories of modern
technology. Dazai had gotten good at filtering out what was obviously lies or embellishing, but the
details were easy to manipulate and harder to detect unless an investigation was done on practically
every sentence, and there was no way he was going to do that.

He sat, hunched over like some sort of cave creature, scrolling through assorted forums, until the
sun crept back up over the horizon, brightening the room through the flimsy curtains that came
with the apartment. After a while of mindless scrolling, he came upon an anon post with a link.

Hey, check this out! Serious dirt on the PM! This is from the time they got invaded!!!

2-3-20**

And a link to another website.

“Huh?” Dazai hadn’t really expected this to give him anything, but the fact that this post was
 several years old proved that it wasn’t total shit, at least not to him. He clicked the link, expected to
be taken to a scam site or maybe rickrolled, by eyes narrowed further when the link led him to a
legit youtube video. He clicked play, watching what appeared to be regular surveillance footage,
until the man waltzed into the Port Mafia building. He spoke, though the video had no sound,
waving his arms like a madman. He seemed to be looking for something, though Dazai couldn’t
tell what . Then, after an apparently unsatisfactory answer, he pulled a gun out of nowhere and shot
up the building.

Blood sprayed to the ceiling and walls, drowning the floor in red as the bodies fell. As desensitized
as Dazai was, even he shivered at the act, the massacre. The video came to an abrupt end, Dazai
flinching back from where he’d leaned forward. He shook his head, resolving himself to more
scrolling.

Chapter End Notes

hey, i'm alive. what's up homies. the reason the year is censored is because it's 11 at
night and i can't use that much brain rn. there's no deeper reason, really. have a good
night everyone. wash your faces, take your meds, drink water. the works, you are
loved and i cherish each of you
 sup y'all i have news
Chapter Summary

heeeeeey, long time no chapter lol

Hey D: it's me, the local cryptid. i know i haven't updated in a long ass time, and im sorry for that.
I keep rereading this so far and i kind of hate it now, so i'm doing quite a bit of rewriting now

no telling how long this is gonna take, but what ever. I'm going to try and update it all at once, so
this could take all summer for all i know. apologies in advance. but now that my school year is
nearly over, i can focus on this with more attention.

I think i kind of leapt into this fanfic without any idea what exactly i was doing. i'm gonna prepare
myself mentally, then i should possibly have an actual update schedule.

thank you for reading and see you maybe soon, reebs
 im almost ready to start
Chapter Summary

djvsbvuwP

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Y'ALL i am so excited rn

i've spent a long time working on this an, admittedly, it's not much yet, it will be soon!!!!!

ive got just under three chapters (not much to speak of, but i'm still proud okay?) and this shit is
6.5k words!!! also i guarantee yous guys are gonna have some whiplash from the old to the new.

Should I delete all the chapters from this work, or keep this and start over with a totally new work?
It's not that important BUT save the date--- tuesday the 20th is post day! It'll be around 12:00 est is
you guys care enough to watch your clocks for it lmao

Chapter End Notes

you should totally folly my unlinked tumblr at

fire-e-ater
look for me in tagged posts if you can't find it. my pfp is my dog <3
 Chapter 12

ok guys, new fanfic is up and running!! It's called 'Roses in the Desert', because that sounds cool as
hell

feel free to unsubscribe or turn of notifs for this fic, since it's not getting updated ever again

have a lovely day guys!!! i hope you enjoy the new fic <3

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