Confirming some things about Neito

-He stopped being mentioned a few chapters ago, as in he's been missing 2-3 days now.
-Nobody stays at a parade that long. It wasn't a hate crime.
-It's not a dream
-He did 101% die so don't come at me with that "So did he not die??" 

Third person pov

Neito was hyperventilating, and he knew this. But how could he not? Everything hurt, and it was so cold. He distantly processed himself slipping off the autopsy table. God, he was in a morgue. His entire body felt as though it'd been shredded and glued back together, every shaking step causing a fresh wave of pain to wash over him. He lifted the sheet that had been draped over himself with trembling hands, tears welling in his eyes. His mind felt muddled-- scrambled. He wondered if maybe his brain had taken apart and put back together too.

A part of him wanted to believe this was some sort of sick nightmare, but he knew it wasn't. It was too cold, and it hurt too much. It hurt, it hurt, it hurt. His stomach churned threateningly, sending spikes of stinging pain burning through him. Fire danced across his icy skin. He was so pale, and so, so cold. He didn't want to be cold. He didn't want to hurt. He wrapped himself in the sheet carefully, every movement provoking his already screaming nerves. He wrapped himself up, because he was cold, and because looking at the scar on his chest made him nauseous. So, so nauseous, and so, so cold. 

He stumbled towards the stairs that would lead him away, scrambling to remember what had happened. He strained to recall where he'd last been. What had happened to him, and why it hurt so much. He was just so cold, and he didn't understand. He'd died. He'd died. He knew he'd died, and he was cold, and it all hurt. He knew he was panicking. His thoughts were a panicked swarm that raged through his pounding head without mercy. He thought back, hard, as he somehow managed to drag his weakened body up the stairs and towards the fire exit that would take him out of here. Out of this place, where he'd lied dead, and was cold.

"̴͙̋͐͌̇͑̚ͅY̸͙͎͉̾͗̎̽̿ò̵͉̤͈͕̪ụ̸̢̨̦̈́͌̕͜ͅ ̴̦̝̤̱͔̻̐͂͐̓̓ḑ̶̰̪͍̗͇̠͛ơ̸̜͉̠̘̈͋͂͑̆n̵̛̰͉̬͓̈̈́̀̉͆'̴̲͎͔̹̉̊t̶͕͖̎ ̵͍͈̝̈̅ẃ̸͔͈̲̐͜͝ā̸̡̻͕̀̌ń̶̠̮̟͙̩̲͜ț̵̽͗̕͠ ̶͕̞̳͋̈́͂̀ṫ̸̛̯̖̺̦o̸̦͆̂́͑̏̎̎ ̴͎͉̞͍̈͂̌̽̆͝r̴͎̮͙̖̈́͆̂͐͒̈̕e̴͖͓͈͍̜̗͛͊̏̕m̷̳̹͇̙͋̓̎́͝e̴̢̮͕̻͈̞͙͊̏̈͒̍̃̉m̵̮̮̭̩͐͌̎b̴̧̻̹͕͓̫̃̀e̷̟͌r̷̥̺̬̱̐̅̓͛.̶̛̩̺̲̰̠̳͜"̵͆͆̽́̇͆͜

He choked out a sob, falling hard on his knees on pavement outside. The night air bit at his already frigid skin. What had happened? Why had it happened? Where was he? He wanted to go home. He didn't understand. He never understood. He would never. He couldn't. He didn't want this. He didn't want this, because he couldn't feel his heart beating in his chest anymore-- God, he hadn't noticed it until it was gone-- and he was cold. He was so, so, so cold. 

He hurt.

E̴v͟e̵r̸yt͢h͘ing̢ ҉i̷s w͢r͠ong

E̵̤̹̖̞v̀e̙͟r̡̗y͚t̩̗̀h͈͖̜̱̭̝̫̕į͓͖̪ņ͙͉̖̩g̸̮̰̠̺ ͇̙̬̲͉̻͇͢i̞͠s ̧͈̟w̥̹̤̖r̡͍̘o̥͍̼͇͢n̘̣̲g̥

E̵̷̵̝͉͕̣͉͍̟̝̲̬͟͡ͅV̨̤̣͉̯̥̮͡E̸̵̢͟҉̳̻̹͖͚̝̠͔Ŗ̩̤̤̗͓̥͉͕͎͘͢͠Y͏̴̸̗͇̟̥̤̥̳͚͞ͅT̷͇̖̟̥̙̮͍̘̀H̢҉̘̹̪̱̤͚͍͔͇̭̪͖͝ͅI̪͚̞̼̺̱̘̟͚͎͟͠N͘҉̖͖̩͕́G̡̨̺̞̠͙̳͔̙͈͔͍̀͝͞ ̴͡͠͏̻̳͖͉̜̞̫̼͍̹̲̣̱I͟͏̸̛̮͖͙͍̳̝͡S͏̢̳͔̦̻̥̜̩̜̰̘͖͓̬̝͙̰͇͓͞͡ ̷̨̰̻͖̝̀́Ẁ̪̟̻̲͓̪̥̱̖̝̝̩̟̩̩̺͘̕ͅR͚̜̬̼̲̟̫̩͈̹̬̹̹͘͜O̵̧̪̥̤̳͍̬̕N̢͠҉̢̠͕̹̼͕̪͙͉͈̪̰͇̠̗̕G̴͕̥̩͖̬͇̫͉̰͎̥̤̗̱̲͙̕͢͜͡ͅͅ

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

Lillian fell asleep the moment they got back to the studio, but not before drowning her eyes in eye drops. This left Mic to the evening broadcasting. Many of the listeners were disappointed over it, but Mic made it up to them by posting pictures of Lillian drowning in blankets all cuddled up with a pillow. Twitter had a collective aneurysm in response. Mic as pretty sure he was going to have to coerce Lillian into getting social media, if not for herself, then for his own well being. People were tweeting him references he really didn't understand or know how to finish.

Mic streamed for a few hours before calling it a night and passing out where he sat. He'd meant to take Lillian to his apartment to camp out, but they always seemed to fall asleep in the studio. The girl hadn't been complaining, so he assumed it was all okay. That being said, she complained about essentially nothing.  He was somewhat thankful for that, even if it would do her some justice to be a little more selfish at times.

She woke up the next morning and downed so much caffeine it would put Aizawa's intake to shame. Internships were rapidly nearing their end, and it was clear she was determined to make the most of her last days with Mic. It warmed the voice hero's heart to know she was truly enjoying her time on the show, even if she did have her fair share of run ins with anxiety. She was handling it all exceptionally well. Hound Dog would be proud to see her improvement. The man was probably getting antsy seeing as he hadn't seen her since she left with Mic.

"Egg roll?" Mic offered the freckled girl. Lillian was looking wide-eyed and bushy-tailed, now on her third cup of... it was more accurately described as death, and Mic was sure he'd suffer a heart attack if he dared even take a sip, but they weren't going to talk about that. Lillian offered a nervous smile, shaking her head politely. Egg rolls and super-charged coffee didn't seem like the best combination, but that was just her personal opinion. Who knows. Maybe it such a mix up would give her unlimited energy unlike anything she'd ever felt before. That, or it could just as easily kill her the second she swallowed. 

"A-Are we broadcasting this m-morning?" Lillian checked her phone. Bakugo had been texting her pretty much every waking hour of the day. It was a bit odd to say the least. Her replies weren't always immediate. At least, not like his were. The fact that he was the one initiating conversations between them weirded her out just a tad. She'd asked Hitoshi about it, to which he'd sent a gif of someone wheezing. Then of an old lady using life alert. Honestly, she was getting mixed signals. Was he trying to tell her that he was dead, or that Bakugo was going to kill her? 

"Of course!" Mic chirped happily. Lillian gave another shy nod, cheeks coloring as she offered her English teacher a smile. Truth be told, she was beginning to like broadcasting with Mic. Of course she'd enjoyed it before, but now the thought of having to stop was becoming more and more saddening. Still, she was pretty excited to get back to school. Apparently, Mic also had something big planned for her last day under his tutelage. She was eager to see what he had in store, even if she could already smell her own panic attack from a mile away.

Bakugo was reportedly scoping out another possible Yakuza base with Chad. They'd left Eri with Vlad, which didn't seem like a stellar idea, but they were pretty confident the docile Nomu would keep the girl preoccupied enough. Lillian was hoping neither of them would get hurt while out and about trying to take down the organization responsible for Eri's kidnapping and torture. Of course she'd readily burn them to the ground were someone to give her some lighter fluid and a pack of matches, but that didn't change the fact that they were dangerous and could possibly get the jump on her two friends.

"No more bashing Endeavor, if you can help it." Mic said, his tone scolding. Lillian at least had the decency to look a little guilty. "His public relation reps have been calling me non-stop for the past two days! You and I both know I don't have enough brain power to deal with that."

"S-Sorry." Lillian flushed as Mic muttered to himself, not seeming all that upset as he flipped the switches on. She still didn't know what any of them did, only that it got them streaming out to the people. The sound quality was good as well, but she wasn't sure if that was due to the switches, dials, and levers or just the microphones. She supposed it really didn't really matter all that much.

There was still no word from Neito, and Lillian was beginning to get severely worried about the boy. Hitoshi was the same, checking in every hour to see if she'd heard anything. It was the same for Shoto, who hadn't heard a peep from their blonde friend. There was still a huge chance he was preoccupied with his internship. Many of their classmates had been MIA since the beginning of the week. Some of the heroes they'd gone with were stricter, and preferred to have said intern completely focused on their work. Without knowing where Neito had interned, there was absolutely no way to tell if he'd chosen someone like that.

"Hey, listeners! Present Mic is in the house! Booyah!" Mic laughed. "I'm here with everyone's favorite Little Listener, Lillian!" 

"H-Hi." Lillian blurted out in a panic, earning another laugh. She felt her cheeks go red, her eyes wandering back to her own phone. She'd tried calling Neito several times. Of course she had-- Hitoshi and Shoto had both done the same thing, the former much more than the latter. It didn't even go to voicemail. Either his phone wasn't on to receive them or the device was broken. She sure hoped it wasn't the second option, and she hoped there wasn't a third.

Mic began to talk, checking the news, ghosting over the weather, making a real effort to nudge Lillian into the conversation when he could. She'd give her own two cents, littered with her usual stuttering that she couldn't ever seem to get under control. She knew the verbal tic was an annoyance. For some reason, she just couldn't seem to shake it no matter how hard she tried. It would go away if she was comfortable enough. That in and of itself was a huge relief. She just sort of wished it would fade out completely one of these days. Preferably sooner rather than later.

"E." The person on the other end said in a firm, monotone voice.

"E." Lillian echoed as deeply as she could muster, which really wasn't much. Mic's smile was a confused one. He'd long since learned not to ask questions. Lillian was glad. She really wasn't sure she had answers. None that weren't extremely cryptic and vaguely threatening, anyway. The girl wasn't sure Mic would really appreciate any of those all that much.

She got asked more questions about her quirk. Honestly speaking, she was pretty hesitant to give anything out. She had absolutely no idea who was listening. She knew that was paranoid of her. She knew that, but she couldn't help it. It was pretty dumb of her. She'd already participated in the Sports Festival, and had been caught on camera using it on that building. Despite that, the side effects weren't clear aside from she coughed up blood if it got too bad. Other than that, the public was in the dark. If they were in the dark, she hoped that meant the League was too.

Mic chatted about being a teacher, noting that Lillian knew English. This resulted in the next five calls requesting her to say certain things in said language. Lillian didn't really mind, but she wasn't sure how good her English really was. There wasn't a way to tell unless someone told her she was messing up. She desperately hoped she wasn't. She told herself it was probably fine, but could seem to brush off the inkling bit of anxiety that told her she was all wrong and they simply pitied her too much to point it out.

Ringing filled the studio once again the moment the previous call ended. Mic hummed happily to himself as he pressed the answering button. As always, Lillian found herself holding her breath and waiting. Yeet was once again slithering through her fingers. She'd have to see about maybe getting him some food. While he shouldn't need to eat quite yet, it seemed like maybe he was working up an appetite. 

"Heyooo!" Mic crooned enthusiastically. "How can we help you today?"

Complete silence. It wasn't uncommon. Sometimes people would simply hang up, or would take a good long moment to figure out just what they wanted to say. Lillian could relate. Her old self, had she ever had the guts to call, probably would have had some sort of seizure instead. Maybe fallen into a catatonic shock of some sort. Nothing adverse would really surprise her. Now that she knew Mic better, she was sure she could say, at least somewhat, that she wouldn't freeze up were she to need to call him for any reason. That being said, she no longer had a reason to call his show. Not with him as her English teacher, and certainly not with her on the show itself.

"Hello?" Mic checked, earning a very clear sniffle in response. Lillian glanced at her teacher with clear concern, but the blonde just sent her a lopsided grin. So far they hadn't gotten any criers. They weren't as common as one might think. Most people just hung up before their tears could come forth at all. Lillian brought her legs up, tucking them beneath herself as a faint murmuring whisped through the speakers, unintelligible but there. 

"I'm going to need to end the call, Listener." Mic said, but not unkindly. They couldn't sit on the phone with this person forever waiting for them to talk. Not when so many other people were waiting to dial in. Lillian wondered if she should ask if they were okay. They certainly didn't sound okay. She strained her ears when the murmuring shifted into weepy mumbles. She held up two fingers to her teacher, whose hearing most definitely wasn't as good as hers due to his quirk. There were two callers, without a doubt.

"S-Sorry." A man's voice finally came through, and Lillian froze, her eyes going wide. "We're going to get in trouble for this. B-But I think... I-I think it's worth it."

Mic raised an eyebrow, eyes flickering to Lillian. He did a double take when he saw her wide-eyed expression, her lips parted in surprise. Its like she'd somehow managed to use her quirk on herself. Her breath had hitched in her throat, and she wasn't moving a muscle. She gazed at the speakers like she was waiting for them to pounce. His hand itched to end the call, but he had no idea what was going on either.

"Honey." A woman's voice croaked, and Mic's heart immediately plummeted as it hit him just who this was. "We're sorry we d-didn't tell you. We're sorry for what we did, and we're sorry we kept it all a secret. We love you. We love you so, so much, and you're always going to be our baby girl. It was never our intention to hurt you. Y-You were just this perfect little baby, and we couldn't leave you. I-I... I guess th-this is us, saying goodbye one last t-time."

"It was an honor to raise you. I wouldn't trade our time together for anything in the entire world. I may not be your real father, and you may hate me, but you're always going to be my little Lily-pad." The man's voice had a clear smile to it, even if it was watery. Lillian sucked in a slow, shuddering breath. She knew her not-parents weren't supposed to contact her. In all honesty, she'd begun to forget about them. Move on. Her number and the numbers of all those around her were blocked from them, but it made sense that the public number connecting to Mic's radio show wasn't. It was one they could easily access.

Lillian's phone began to vibrate on the desk, Bakugo's name displayed clearly on the screen.

"Honey, live a good life." June Faust choked out a sob. "Know that we love you, and that we're sorry. W-We're so, so sorry."

"We love you, baby girl. We-" Mic's hand slammed down on the end call button as his senses flew back to him, rage filling him as Hisato's claim was cut off. Lillian was paralyzed, not even acknowledging her cell phone as she processed what had just happened. They'd jumped from the weather and meme references to... t-to this, and she hated that. 

She didn't hate her not-parents. They'd given her a good childhood full of happy memories. Even if she didn't have some of the things she may have needed at times, such as support for her quirk and help with her anxiety, she had it better than a lot of kids did. Her parents hadn't... they had taken her. It was wrong that they had. Making a conscious decision to take a child was, to put it plainly, against the law. But it's what they'd done. She supposed maybe this call, though not their smartest move, had been their last go at saying goodbye. They were letting go, it sounded like. Or that's what she hoped.

They'd raised her. She couldn't help but hold a certain amount of love for them. There was a part of her that still felt somewhat in shock. It could be that she hadn't fully processed it. It wasn't like she'd been there to see it happen. Well, she had, she just couldn't remember. One moment her parents were her parents, and the next she caught them in a lie that had stretched on nearly her entire life so far. They admitted to a crime they'd committed years ago, and it was suddenly just... over. 

Mic ended the broadcast within seconds of the call cutting, scrambling to get tissues. It was only then that she realized she was crying. It was rather dumb of her. A sorry reaction to have. She just... sort of missed her not-parents. She was angry, but not. She didn't know what she was. She wanted to hate them for what they'd done, but they hadn't done it to hurt her. She knew this solidly. They weren't... they weren't bad people. She just... 

Lillian wiped at her tears almost mindlessly, hand dragging her still vibrating phone towards her. She slid the green icon to the side, bringing it up to her ear as she tried to process what had just happened. Her not-parents had illegally contacted her via Mic's show, and it was only a matter of time before the police found out. She wasn't supposed to see or hear from them ever again. There was the possibility that she'd have gotten to see them when she was older, if she chose. She had a feeling that possibility was probably gone now. 

A part of her was glad.

"Oi!" Bakugo's voice barked in her ear. She could very clearly make out the sound of gunfire in the background as the blonde paused. Her eyebrows shot up, her tears ceasing in an instant. "...You okay and shit?"

"A-Are you l-listening to Mic's sh-show in the middle of... a-a fight against the Y-Yakuza?" Lillian hadn't stuttered that bad in a while. She knew she could blame in on the crying, but that really didn't do anything to make her feel less pathetic. It was silly, her getting so upset over all this. Her not-parents had been gone a while now. There wasn't a real reason for her to be getting so worked up.

"...Why the fuck would you think that?" Bakugo asked after a moment. In sheer contradiction, a loud explosion that was oh-so-clearly the blonde's fired off. Lillian choked back a snort, bringing a hand up to brush away the bangs sticking to her cheek from the tears. Mic was already on the phone with the police department, a box of tissues placed squarely in front of the freckled girl should she need them. She'd stopped crying, but took one anyway to wipe at her nose.

"O-Oh, no reason." Lillian muttered. There was more gunfire, along with cursing, and another explosion. Bakugo grunted. His voice was so clear it felt almost like he was standing right next to her. She still wasn't sure if he was planning to murder her or not, but it was almost comforting nonetheless.

"You didn't answer my fucking question." Bakugo bit out. Lillian heard things become more muffled. Had he lowered the phone? "Fuck off, Yakuza cunt! I'm busy as shit!" There was an explosion before the phone was raised again. 

"S-So definitely not fighting a-any Yakuza, I guess." Lillian mumbled. 

"Fucking- fuck off!"

Despite it all, Lillian couldn't help but laugh.

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

"Pop the champagne!" Hawks crowed happily, messily pouring shots. The bags under his eyes would put Aizawa's to shame, and Shoto was in similar condition. They'd rocked that Hero Con like it was nobody's business, and it was taking the internet by storm. It swirled alongside Lillian's clear support for them, mingling with it beautifully and creating the perfect end result. Shoto wasn't sure it would have been possible without the freckled girl.

When taking an intern, he hadn't expected this. He'd been nervous! He was a fairly young guy himself, still learning. He had zero experience as a teacher. His time as a pro-hero honestly hadn't been all that expansive. Not compared to some of the other offers Shoto had probably gotten, anyway. Hawks was sure he'd only been picked because of his stance in the hero rankings. He found that he didn't at all mind. He was dead glad Shoto had chosen him. 

"Work's not done yet. He's going to try and retake it." Shoto mumbled, more to himself than to Hawks. They'd worked hard to connect with the public and continue fighting villains as consistently as they could. So far, they'd gotten nothing but support. Everyone who met them whipped out their phones and went to the public polls to cast their vote right before their very eyes. They took selfies, wrote out autographs and personalized messages, took videos, demonstrated their quirks, given hugs. Anything they could realistically give was presented forth, barring making out and marriage, both of which had been requested.

"I'm the number two hero!" Hawks seemed to ignore him, shoving the shot glass in his hands. "Shoto, we're the number two hero, kid!"

"I'm too young for alcohol." Shoto just wanted a nap. A nap that lasted fourteen hours, if he could have it. He knew he couldn't. Endeavor was going to hit fast and hard trying to get back to his original standing. All Might was now the least of his worries. He'd wanted the Number One spot for so long now that it evidently hadn't occurred to him that he could lose his current footing. This was probably a huge wake up call. He wasn't the only rank climber in the world. While Hawks certainly didn't do it for the fame or fortune, he was willing to help his little intern with anything he needed.

"Todoroki." Hawks repeated, this time slower. "Your father is the Number Three Hero, and we're the Number Two."

Shoto stared at him for a moment before abruptly tilting his head back and letting the liquid scald down his throat. Hawks let out a squawk of surprise as Shoto slammed the shot glass down upside down on the table before him, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. The winged hero tried not to gape. He'd given Shoto the shot, sure, but he really hadn't expected that to be the outcome. 

"I had to take a lot of cold medicine as a kid while learning how to regulate my temperature." The Half-and-Half boy cleared his throat. "Also, call me Shoto."

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

Tsukauchi sat nervously on Mihoko Shinso's couch once again. Fuyumi was missing this time around, but Rei was still here. It was pretty apparent the woman was staying here. The only thing he wanted to know was why. So after being kicked out a few days prior, he'd done what anyone might. He'd done his damn research. It had taken a lot of digging, but he'd found some pretty interesting stuff. That layered with what Lillian, a girl who was person friends with Shoto Todoroki, was saying... he was pretty suspicious, and bordering on pissed.

Mihoko had said very firmly that they didn't need his help. An odd thing to say. What was even odder was the fact that his quirk outright rejected it as a lie. The bold woman had held such conviction in her tone, that he would have taken her seriously outright had the power he was gifted with not outright told him with unswayed firmness that she was fibbing. He knew now that they needed him. For what, he only had mere theories, and no real facts. His theories were damning enough anyway.

"You came back." It wasn't a question. Rei looked different than she had the last time he saw her. Her eyes were still the same warm, tired grey, but her hair was no longer stark white. For a reason that could only be that she was actively hiding from her husband, she'd dyed her hair black, not unlike his own. It was a bold contrast to the previous snow color it had been. Why she was going to such lengths to hide was what concerned him.

"I did." Tsukauchi smiled a little, but it didn't reach his eyes. Mihoko was out, leaving himself and Rei the only ones here. He'd done that on purpose. He didn't mean to intrude or cause discomfort, but Mihoko was an incredibly distrustful and guarded person. She didn't take too kindly to people nosing into business they had no business nosing into. Especially when that business pertained to her or the people she cared about. 

"I... I-I suppose you have questions." Rei gripped the cup of water in her hands a little tighter, her head angled downwards. Tsukauchi nodded solemnly, sliding the folder of all the information he'd found on her situation across the coffee table and towards her. She made no moves to take it, but he didn't push. This was, without a doubt, a delicate matter. One not to be taken lightly lest he want to lose his grip on it completely. 

"I do, but I don't want to pry or make you uncomfortable. That isn't my goal, Mrs. Todoroki." Tsukauchi leaned back in his seat. "There's a lot going around about your husband right now. He's always been... a questionable individual. One of your son's friends is a very, very sweet girl. Wouldn't hurt a fly. She has only bad things to say about him."

"Ah, Lillian." Rei smiled a little, looking slightly brighter. "I'm excited to meet her. She seems like a bright young woman." She seemed fond of the girl, despite not having met her. Tsukauchi felt himself smile. It was very clear Rei had a soft spot for kids, whether they were hers or not. 

The front door slammed open before Tsukauchi could respond. It shut immediately after, uneven footsteps stumbling out of the entryway and into the living room. It was Neito Monoma, without a doubt. He was wrapped in a white sheet and covered in a thin sheen of sweat, his skin sickly and his blonde hair sticking to his forehead. He also wasn't wearing shoes, which was odd. He gave them a jittery glance before stumbling off towards the hallway, one hand shakily escaping the sheet to steady himself against the wall.

"Neito Monoma, right?" Tsukauchi felt his concern swell. The kid looked like he was in bad shape. "Are you alright? You don't look so good."

There was a pause, and the teen's shoulders tensed. He didn't turn around. If his trembling was anything to go by, he was definitely crying. He shared a concerned glance with a startled Rei, who held nothing but worry in her eyes. He heard the boy inhale.

"I-I'm fine. Just sick." His voice came out a raspy, trembling whisper, nothing like his usual cheerful tone Tsukauchi had only heard on a few occasions. With that, he was gone. Tsukauchi stared after him in silence, schooling his expression as his quirk gave off a very thick, static-like vibe.

Nothing.

His quirk wasn't working. Not on Neito, anyway.

"Oh my, I better call Mihoko." Rei stood, seeming to snap from her stupor. "Apparently Neito has been AWOL since the beginning of his internship. Not uncommon, but he wasn't looking to well there."

Tsukauchi nodding, still staring at the hallway Neito had disappeared down. There was more going on in this house than he had the energy to deal with. His eyes returned to the untouched folder on the coffee table, and his teeth clenched. Maybe talking to Rei was the wrong approach. Maybe Lillian, someone very clearly against Endeavor and not afraid to say so for the world to hear, could give him some answers.

There was only one way to find out.

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W̷̢̜̲͕̣̞̠̫̩̥͠ͅą̴̶͖͓̘̰̝̳͙̪̯s̡͔̙͓͕͔̱̰̞͍̼͟͟͜ͅ ̨̗̮̭̘͔͇̤͞͞a̧̖̘̲̮̰̘̲̫̼̳͖̖͡͡n̘̥͚̥̰̘̙̞̹̯̗̩͎̞̱͠͝y̷̴̨͉̺̠̩̖̟̖̞̘̖̺̣̖̫̠̹̫ț̸̨̭͚̗̩̲̫̖̲̯̞͖̺̲͓ẖ̴̡͈̠̼̼̪͈͘͟͢i̵̧̛͏͙͙̫͖̤͓̘̘̰͙̹͉̲̭̬͝ͅń̡̳͉͓̲͚̭̳̥̙̠̭͇͓͙̤͚̠̖́g̷̢̩͉̯̺̳͞ ҉̡̯͚̻̲̯͔̝̖̰̝͕͡e̡̤̭̪̣̜̦͚̱̝͔̘̜̤̯̥͚̭̖̞v҉̴̶̴̢̝͚͇͓͔̠̙̪é̴̡̤̲̙̪̥͈͎̙̫̩̬̰̺̫͟r̛͙̙̻͈̖͍̬̥̤͈̯̦̱̭͙̝̜̜͟͡ͅ ̛̳̮͙̟́͜͢r̢̭̰̺̰̫͜ͅi҉̵̴͏̠͎͔̳̟͍̮͓̬̦̬͍̫̣̺͔͓̫̞͠g̡͔̘̠̼͍̣̭͎̮̦͖̘͈͈̲̙͕̺͟h̶̷̡̭͉͎̼̫̳͝t̷̩͔̱͔͕̟̝̟̗͍͠ͅ?