Third person pov

"Bakugo, Eri." Chad took a deep breath, sounding excited and near tearful as he clapped his hands together to draw their attention. "I want you to meet your new brother, Vlad."

Bakugo took one look at the Nomu and gave a scoff.

"Yeah, over my dead fucking body."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next few days passed smoothly. Lillian was getting stopped on the streets more and more frequently. She'd been asked to sign shirts, given fan art, taken selfies with people, taken videos with fans. Mic was always off to the side, sniffling and wiping tears from his eyes and beaming like he was the proudest man on the planet. It never failed to make Lillian go red with embarrassment. As anxiety inducing as it was to have people come up to you out of nowhere and gush over you, she was enjoying her time on the radio show. It was fun to communicate with Mic's fans and blurt out memes.

Her internship wasn't what she'd expected. She hadn't really known what she'd had in mind, but she did know this was a lot different, better, than what she'd thought it would turn out to be. Mr. Mic was patient with her and didn't push her too hard, but he wasn't super soft on her either. He didn't get between her and any fans that approached her, even if her anxiety did heighten when it happened. He simply stood by, a comforting presence ready to step in if it ever got to be too much.

She'd also gotten a few more chances to talk to Dabi. He was familiar, and she looked forward to his calls nowadays. It was weird to think that she never would have met him if she hadn't interned with Mic. If she weren't a memelord like Hitoshi and Neito, she was quite sure he wouldn't have dialed in either. It made her quite thankful for her friends, even if Neito was MIA and possibly dead somewhere. She sure hoped not.

In a not so surprising turn of events, Shoto hadn't been released from the hospital. He'd walked right out of the place and down the street to get some frozen yogurt. He'd changed his emergency contacts, so the hospital had ended up calling Chad thinking he was Endeavor to tell him Shoto had left. Chad had just snorted and waved it off in a very un-Endeavor-like way. Hawks had then proceeded to swoop in and swipe the boy off the sidewalk, scaring several civilians. They were out doing hero work now, even closer to getting rid of Endeavor, even if the Flame Hero's ratings had gone up due to Hosu. Lillian was working to change that by pointing out that the guy had practically burned the entire prefecture to the ground.

"Lillian!" Someone shrieked happily from behind her, causing her to jump about a foot in the air. She and Mic were out patrolling. It was something she'd only done once before. This time, they'd opted for a less populated area to prevent themselves from getting mobbed again. Mic's boisterous appearance had drawn in a small crowd, which had increased when they saw Lillian trailing behind him. Fighting their way out of that hadn't been fun.

"H-Hi!" Lillian sputtered as she turned around. A girl no older than seventeen bounced up, already pulling out her phone. Lillian felt herself begin to sweat. It was something that happened anytime she was approached at all. Her dreams of being a hero who worked on the down-low were dashed. Bakugo had googled her and lost his shit, and had been teasing her about her rise to fame ever since. Lillian retaliated by showing him the memes people made of him at the Sports Festival. He was being described as a rabid Pomeranian with anger issues. Even Bakugo had no words.

The girl opened her mouth, presumably to ask for some sort of picture, but was cut off by a loud cracking noise. The area of the city they were in was more residential than business, hence the lack of people. While there were a few little shops here and there, it was mostly a low-crime neighborhood that tended to be frequented by simple purse snatchers and pick pockets. Nothing too serious that would require excessive force. A good start for a beginner like her.

She and and Mic whirled around towards the source, eyes falling upon an apartment building spanning at around five stories high. There was another crack, following by a crumbling noise that made the both of them pale. Lillian watched the building begin to tip precariously to one side as the front corner of its foundation began to crumble. From what, she couldn't say. She felt panic seize her heart, her wide eyes meeting Mic's. The girl behind them had gone still with horror.

"Let's go!" Mic exclaimed, and that's all it took for them to take off running towards the building. Mic knew his quirk couldn't be of use in this situation. He could level buildings with his voice, but he most certainly couldn't hold them up. He felt his heart lurch when he saw the people spilling out of the front. There were a lot, but not enough for a building of that size. There had to be more. 

Lillian's mind was whirling in search of a solution. Outwardly, she knew she could freeze the building. She was under Mic's supervision, so it wasn't exactly illegal for her to use her quirk in public. Especially not during an emergency such as this. That being said, she could also end up freezing civilians inside, or even pro heroes and first responders trying to get in and evacuate civilians. She swallowed heavily. She wouldn't do anything unless Mic told her to, or unless it was absolutely, without a doubt, needed.

"It's Present Mic!" Someone called. A pair of police officers were running towards them from further down the street, and Lillian felt relief fill her when she saw that one of them had a walkie-talkie. Her eyes shot back to the building when it gave a threatening creak. 

"What can you tell me about the situation?" Mic asked carefully, one hand on Lillian's shoulder. She stared at the building, watching it sway as the man told Mic all he knew. Apparently a man on the first floor had an earthquake quirk, and it was possible his daughter had just unlocked a quirk that was similar and maybe lost control of it, or activated it without meaning to. Lillian swallowed as the complex rumbled, eyes shooting to one of the windows on a higher floor. There was an older woman there, a teenager with a toddler on his hip standing on the balcony. 

"Th-There's people still inside. Do you think th-they're stuck?" Lillian asked, eyes wide with horror. She really hoped she wasn't about to witness any deaths. Trauma who? We don't know her! No, but really, Hound Dog was going to go insane if Lillian gained anymore baggage. She was a burden as it was, even without the extra weight. And yet here she was, with an entire building full of people in need about to butter her PTSD egg roll. What a day. She was going to have so much shit to dump on Bakugo later. He would have no idea what was coming until it was already there, smacking him in the face.

"More pros are on the way." One of the officers reported, seeming out of breath. Lillian could relate, and not just because she had the stamina of an overweight panda. "I don't think it's safe to go in. Anything could co-"

The building gave a lurch before beginning to fall towards them, the front corner giving way and causing the entire thing to tilt forward. Several people shrieked in horror as the shadow fell over them, and Lillian threw her hands forward almost on reflex, blinking as her heart raced. The building came to a halt, the three who'd been on the balcony freezing mid-air from where they'd begun to fall. Mic's gaze snapped to Lillian as she tried to calm her breathing, still staring with wide eyes at the building.

Okay, so this was happening. Cool. Very cash money. Not at all panic attack inducing! She was going to have some real team to serve the squad later. Bakugo would probably laugh at her for almost dying. He insisted they weren't friends, and yet he listened to her talk to people on the air for four hours a night and other times during the day as well. If that wasn't friendship... then she was absolutely terrified, because that meant it was something else and Bakugo was probably trying to figure out the best way to murder her. She liked to think they did have a friendship and he was just stubborn.

"I-I've got it." Lillian whispered, more to herself than to Mic. "I have it." 

Yeah, barely. Her heart felt like it was getting whacked repeatedly with a stick. Literally everyone was staring at her like she'd just descended from heaven itself. She could count four people who'd whipped out their phones to film and take photos, and Mic had been quite literally vibrating ever since she stopped the building from toppling down and killing them all. Personally, she thought she was spending her time pretty productively. Even if she did feel like she'd just taken a mysterious pill offered to her by a homeless man in drag.

A few civilians had gotten caught in her gaze, but the ones who didn't were silent as they gazed with morbid awe up at the frozen structure and the people who'd been falling from it. It took Mic a second to act. He'd seen Lillian use her quirk plenty of times, but couldn't shake his shock off for a moment as she slowly lowered her hands, bringing her sleeves up to her face and inhaling deeply. They were infused with herbs, from what he knew. He twisted towards the stunned pair of police officers. Time to get this show on the road. Yo holla at your girl.

"I'm going to go in. Try and get those three from the air, if you can." He said in all seriousness before darting off towards the building. It was crooked, leaning forward, but completely silent. It was weird not to hear the creaking and crumbling that had invaded his ears not moments before. Shooting a cautious glance back at Lillian, he entered the building and braced himself for the worst. It was in moments like these he questioned his choice in leather. The pants weren't doing any favors for his friend downstairs. 

The people in the building weren't frozen, Mic soon came to realize when a few stumbled up to him. He immediately directed them towards the nearest exit, picking up the pace. He hesitated in using his quirk. He didn't know what it would take to disrupt Lillian's quirk, but he didn't want to risk raising his voice a little too high and causing something to shift. Lillian had proven already that the thing she froze could still be moved. He didn't know exactly how that would effect the building's already shitty condition.

A platoon of heroes arrived, but Lillian recognized only Kamui Woods out of the bunch. It was possible the rest were his side kicks, or maybe small time heroes who didn't get much fame to their name. She shuffled over to them as they arrived, feeling too tired to be anxious. The exhaustion marching through her was beginning to cause mild stomach pains, indicating that her time was limited. While freezing a building wasn't so bad, as they didn't really have any 'power', it was still exhausting to keep something so massive still. She was going to need a lot of coffee after this.

"H-Hi." She mumbled tiredly, drawing their attention. "I'm interning w-with Present Mic. H-He's inside evacuating civilians, i-if you want to... help..." She yawned. Kamui Woods looked startled, recognition flashing through his eyes.

"The building looks like it's about to topple over, kiddo. It's probably best we don't enter." One of his presumed sidekicks noted. Lillian blinked languidly at him before shaking her head a little. Did these people have onions for brains? The building was very clearly suspended. It would be falling otherwise, at the angle it was.

"N-No, it's okay. I froze it." Lillian assured them as politely as she could muster with her exhaustion weighing heavy on her. "I can h-hold it, but not f-forever. The more help M-Mic has, th-the better."

Kamui snapped into action after that. He and another hero set to work stabilizing the building so it wouldn't fall and kill anyone. The remaining heroes filtered into apartment building. The three who'd been suspended mid-fall were finally brought down by a hero who could extend their limbs, seeing as the police had failed to snag the back of their shirts. Lillian sat criss-cross on the side walk across the street, keeping her gaze focused on the building. Her eyes stung, but it wasn't as bad as when she'd frozen Endeavor at the Sports Festival.

Speaking of Endeavor, she wondered where the asshole was and what he was doing. She didn't know why her mind wandered there. She was so groggy, nothing really made sense. Everything seemed disjointed. The people filming her and the civilians cheering when more people trickled from the apartment complex. The way the building loomed over them dangerously, ready to tilt forward and crash down. 

Kamui Woods crouched down next to Lillian. She was one of the only students he'd put a request in for. It was a bit disappointing that she hadn't chosen to intern with him, but he understood. She'd probably gotten a lot of offers, and Present Mic was her teacher. Even still, her quirk was truly something to behold. Up close, it was surreal. The apartment before them should have fallen a long time ago, and yet it hadn't. It was stuck, suspended in the air. He felt sour knowing what he was missing out on. 

"Try letting it go and see what happens." Kamui urged her. A press team had arrived and had their camera's panning between the civilians still being pulled from the building by pros, and Lillian herself who was doing nothing but sitting and staring at the sight before her. The freckled girl nodded vaguely, releasing her hold on the building with a bat of her eyes. Kamui held his breath as his wooden pillars gave a threatening creak. 

Lillian braced herself, hopping to her feet when she heard a loud snap. The building froze under her control once again. Wincing, she turned to look at Kamui. He looked irritated, but not at her. Giving her a swift apology, he set out again to try and secure the building. He was one of the only ones with a quirk suited to hold such a building up. However, he also was no architect. He had no idea where to put the supports to stop the building from caving in on itself and crashing into the street.

Lillian hummed Mambo No. 5 to herself in an attempt to stay awake, back on her feet. Sitting down would only make her more prone to dozing, and that was the last thing she needed at the moment. She wasn't sure if her control would break if she were asleep, but this really wasn't the time to try and find out. So she shuffled in place, trying to think of what her and Mic could possibly talk about during tonight's broadcast. They were sure to get some questions about this, of course. Maybe Dabi would call again. She liked Dabi. Half because of his dry sense of humor, and half because he hated Endeavor as much as she did.

The whole thing was being streamed out, and Chad was one of the many viewers watching Lillian do a tiny dance to keep herself awake. A map was spread out in front of him, along with several news reports he'd printed out. He had the general location of the next Yakuza base they'd be taking out, but not an exact address. He didn't want to barge into the wrong site, guns blazing. That would only add to his death count.

"Are you not going to help?" Chad raised an eyebrow. Eri was sitting on the floor trying to teach Vlad how to play pat-a-cake. They'd stuck a beanie over his head, hiding his exposed brain. Chad had forced him into a pair of pants and a white shirt, topped with an open, short-sleeved flannel shirt that made him look like a hipster. They'd have to special order shoes for him, if he was going to be wearing shoes at all. He had some weird bird feet.

"Fuck off. I'm busy." Bakugo snapped, watching the screen intently as Lillian did a little hip bump, mumbling to herself and slapping at her cheeks. Chad groaned loudly. He got that Lillian was adorable, but did Bakugo really need to burn holes into his TV because of it? Whatever. He was a badass and could do this all by his lonesome. 

"No, no, Vlad." Eri shook her head. "Pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake, baker's man!" 

"Pat... a cake." A distorted, shrieky voice rumbled. Bakugo and Chad froze, sharing a glance. They both decided it was best not to turn around.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Flaming Ice Chest to Scarlet Chicken, do you copy?" Shoto was perched atop a building, taking in the scene below him. He himself was a reasonably private person who didn't care for the press, but for this mission, it was a necessary evil. They'd done well with the hero part of things. They'd saved people, but they hadn't had much time to stop to give autographs or take photos with fans.

"I copy." Hawks chewed his chips loudly in the com. "Is there any reason we're stalking a hero con?" 

"Infiltration." Shoto said simply, as though the answer was obvious. 

"Dude, we bought tickets. We can just walk in." Hawks threw some more chips in his mouth, legs dangling off a building across the plaza. He sent Shoto a wave. The Half-and-Half boy didn't respond, narrowing his dual colored eyes contemplatively. While it was true that they could simply 'walk in', Shoto was always one to put a dramatic flare on things. Maybe if they pulled this off well enough, he could take a nap. 

"You need to make an entrance." Shoto responded simply. Hawks groaned, tilting his head back and dumping the remaining chip crumbs into his mouth. He would never understand Shoto. He was such an odd teenager. Hawks thought he was hip and cool, and in with the things. But the moment Shoto told him 'you need to fry the public's rice if you want to make it to number two', his mind had completely blanked. 

"So should I just jump down?" Hawks asked, crumbling up the chip bag and stuffing it in the inner pocket of his jacket. Shoto contemplated it. Maybe if he jumped down and did a spin of some sort. With his wings. Like a... torpedo. Yeah, that would look cool. He could see people with their cameras out and filming the experience.

"Can you spin when you do it?" Shoto checked. Hawks stood up and cracked his knuckles. Even from here, Todoroki could see the mans grin.

"Like a fucking ballerina, kid."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Clear!" 

The body seemed almost alive as the pair of paddles were pressed to its bare chest. The back arched and the limbs buzzed. Their surroundings were eerily silent, a bold contrast to the usual cacophony the doctors and nurses experienced when trying to revive a patient. It was as though death were hanging, waiting for them to give up.

The room was cold. Oddly so, considering it was spring. None of the nurses commented. The panic that normally would have settled in was absent, as though they all knew what a lost cause this all was. There was too much blood on the floor for it not to be. Nobody knew what to do. They were speechless. It had been a long, long time since they'd had such a gruesome death on their hands. 

"Time of death, 9:04 PM." The doctor sighed. It was truly sad to see someone with their whole life ahead of them go. Where they'd gotten such a wound, it was hard to say. It didn't look like it was a knife, nor did it look like any sort of energy blast that a quirk may have produced. Those present were stumped and saddened. They averted their gaze away from the dull eyes that stared oh so vacantly up and the ceiling above. Almost as though asking why they hadn't tried harder. Why they hadn't done more. 

A white sheet was draped over the body, and it was wheeled away for an immediate autopsy. Whispers of the body shot around the small hospital. It wasn't often that they got murder victims, but this was too gory for it to be anything but that. There was of course a chance the victim possessed a quirk that had simply gone haywire. That was always an option in today's society. Somehow, everyone knew that wasn't the case.

There was something so personal about an autopsy. In this case, it was even more so. They put a rush on it, but they were slow and meticulous in their work nonetheless. They split their victim open-- it felt wrong not to call them by their name, but it was impossible to tell just who they were-- and got to work. They searched for evidence. They clawed through the shredded pieces of what was left of this poor individual, sewing them back up as they went. Putting them back together.

The body was so cold. The morgue was cold. It was all just... cold. They knew they'd have to cut them open again. They always did, but for now, they stitched them back up. The large scar formed what looked almost like a Y, starting at the belly button and climbing up and over the shoulders. It was always odd to see how pale the bodies got. The color drained painfully quick, leaving them a gaunt shell of their former selves.

To have someone so young killed... the police were already combing the area. The victim had dragged them self through the doors leading into the ER. Nobody could determine just where they'd come from, or how they'd had the strength to get that far. All anyone knew was that they'd shuffled in before collapsing like a puppet who'd had their strings cut, crumbling in a heap of blood. One of the nurses had almost vomited when they saw.

Now the morgue was quiet, the body still laid out and waiting to be put away into the freezer for the night. They'd taken sample after sample. They'd scraped beneath their finger nails, checked their teeth. They'd search dental records the next day when they could get a mold in. For now, they were testing the blood against everyone in the system. It would take a while. Their technology here wasn't as sophisticated as it was at some other hospitals, but they did their best nonetheless. 

There was a clock hanging in the morgue. It was really the only source of noise. Bodies didn't need anything else, though sometimes those who worked there would turn on music. More for themselves, but sometimes the morticians liked to think they were listening somehow. Somewhere. It was an odd sort of thought to have. But when nobody was there, and all was silent, the only thing anyone had to listen to was the clock. It was three seconds off its mark, and a little crooked, but loud. 

Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tick, tick, tick-

Something stirred. A bang. The ticking kept going, unaware. There was another. The sheet shifted, slipping off the body ever so slightly. The body that shouldn't move. The body that couldn't move, that had been mourned by the nurses and doctors and other staff. The body that was decimated, destroyed. It had been painfully hard to repair. They were, without a doubt, dead. Dead. Their heart had stopped. They'd been cut open, and then sewn back up.

And yet Neito Monoma's eyes flew open anyway, a throaty gasp of air sucking back into his throat as he sat up straight. The stitches in his chest pulled painfully. The sheet slipped down further, falling off him completely and leaving him gasping like a fish out of water. Everything hurt. Everything hurt, and he didn't know where he was. He was cold, cold, cold, cold, co-

He looked down at his shaking hands. Down at his body, covered in sewn up cuts. It was grey. Why was his skin grey? He didn't understand. It all hurt, and he didn't know why. He didn't know where he was. There was a scar on his body. It was massive, and fresh, and it hurt. And he was cold. It was all cold. His skin was grey, and it was cold, and he hurt.

Tears welled in Neito's eyes, and he screamed.