Third person pov

Hitoshi all but flew home, feet pounding against the sidewalk as he mentally thanked the heavens above for Aizawa's strict training regimen. He wondered if they could get back on that after internships were done for. It had certainly paid off. As much as he hated cardio, he was glad he'd gone through it all, just for this very moment. Running was hellish, but this time it was worth it. Neito had been missing for days now, and they'd all been worrying endlessly for him.

Neito was somewhat of a social butterfly, but only when it came to his close friends. He never reached out to anyone in 1-B, or 1-A, or any of the other courses for that matter. His interests remained solely on those around him. Neito was someone who derived off of attention. Hitoshi and Lillian suspected he was affection starved due to his neglectful parents who didn't seem to care too much about him. He also wasn't the best at making friends, coming off as condescending. It's why he was so attached to the people he did have. Nobody could blame him, and received him with open arms.

But it had just been... odd that he hadn't contacted them while he was away. At all. There was no evidence that he even tried. And hey, maybe it was nothing. But even Shoto thought it was suspicious and off, and his social skills were below sea level at this point. He had manners, but when it actually came to interacting with people on more than a formal level? He bottomed out.

Hitoshi's mom had texted him the moment she found out. From what she could tell, Neito's phone was broken, and he'd come home from his internship early. She wasn't too sure why, but she theorized it was because he was sick. Apparently the teen hadn't come down from his bunk since Mihoko got back, curled up under the blankets and giving short, weak answers. The texts were certainly worrying, but Hitoshi hoped maybe it wasn't as bad as his mother was making it out to be, and that Neito simply had a really bad cold and hadn't bothered to memorize anyone's phone number to call and let them know is device was broken.

Hitoshi basically skidded into the house, dropping his bag while ripping off his shoes and taking off to go find his blonde friend. His mother had simply decided to leave the teen be and give him space, but Hitoshi was pushier than that. That, and he and Neito were closer than his mother and Neito were. They were a part of the original meme three! They were dude-bros! Madlads! Amigos! Whatever other various words Neito looked up using urban dictionary! If Lillian were here, all would be perfect. If Shoto were too, well, that seemed like it could be better than perfect.

If his mother welcomed him home from her place at the dining room table, he didn't notice. He almost slid right into a wall thanks to his socks. It was a miracle he didn't knock any pictures off the walls in the process. For some reason he simply felt like he needed to see Neito. It wasn't that he necessarily felt something was horribly wrong, but he and Lillian had just been so distraught with worry these past few days. Again, Neito was an avid texter. Not hearing from him had been more startling than either would willingly admit.

The lights were off when he all but slammed the door open. His eyes flew to lump on the top bunk. Neito mostly slept on his stomach or dead flat on his back. Both positions were signs that he was comfortable, Hitoshi had quickly learned. There were exceptions to this, of course. There were several times when Neito, himself, and Lillian had all fallen asleep lying on one another after watching vines for four hours straight. Add Todoroki into the mix, and they were practically a dog pile.

Only Neito wasn't on his back, and he wasn't on his stomach. He was without a doubt curled up in a ball and shaking. Maybe it was something he did when he was sick, but Hitoshi had a sneaking suspicion that wasn't the case. That something was really wrong here, and that scared him. His mother had already contacted Lillian and Shoto both, forwarding the texts she sent to him their way. He'd promised to the both of them that they could relax, and that he could deal with this. So deal with it he would.

"Neito?" He asked carefully, and the trembling figure stilled. He didn't turn on the lights. A few strings of the fairy lights the blonde had hung up what seemed like ages ago shone dimly in the room, and the sun managed to seep somewhat through the curtains they had set in place anyway, leaving the room bathed in a soft glow. He carefully shut the door behind him, approaching the bed carefully. Neito's bunk had been set up just above his own bed, and Hitoshi knew it could easily hold the weight of all four of the teenage residents in this room. He still hesitated at the ladder.

"...Hitoshi?" Neito's voice cracked, and Hitoshi knew in that instant that Neito wasn't just sick. This wasn't just a cold. Something was wrong-- really wrong. What it was, he couldn't say. It had to be something to do with internships. He tried to come up with an explanation, but there was no telling. He had no idea where Neito had interned. Maybe it had something to do with his phone breaking? The guy wasn't exactly careful with the device, but he wasn't tossing it around carelessly either. Not like Todoroki who seemed to think his cell phone was indestructible. 

"Neito, what's wrong?" Hitoshi started up the ladder not a moment after getting his friends response. There was something in Neito's voice that simply didn't belong, and it made a part of him twist uncomfortably. It was a curling feeling, like something shying away and twisting in a way that was nothing short of completely uncomfortable and terribly alarming.

"J...Just sick." Neito mumbled. The moment Hitoshi laid eyes on him, he froze, purple eyes going wide. Neito gazed at him with equally wide eyes, as though maybe he hadn't actually thought Hitoshi to be real to begin with. Fresh tears welled in his blue eyes as his body shook. It shook, and he couldn't stop it, because he was cold. Everything hurt, his body aching with every rise of his chest. It hurt so badly he just wanted it to end, but he couldn't. He couldn't, because there was nothing to end.

уσυ'яє ησт αℓινє. ησт αηумσяє.

Hitoshi took in a deep, shuddering breath as he took in his friend's appearance. There were deep, discolored bags beneath his eyes, making the aqua sky color seem all the more vibrant. His cheeks were sunken in just enough to create shadows, and his skin. God, his skin. His creamy complexion had dulled into something grayer. He looked unnatural and sickly, his lips a blueish purple. The purple-haired boy watched tears roll down his friend's cheeks, his own eyes stinging.

Something peeked out, barely covered by the hoodie's voluminous size and the blankets he was wrapped in. Hitoshi felt a shiver race down his spine as he stared at it. It was on his neck, and though he couldn't see the extent of it, it looked bad. The stitches were messy, and already falling out. Old. They were old, and Hitoshi didn't understand how that was possible. A wound that bad, that deep, would take a long time to recover. To heal to that extent, even with the aid of a quirk.

And Neito hadn't had that when he left.

"What... What happened to you, Neito?" Hitoshi breathed, reaching out a hand. He almost withdrew with the blonde flinched away. Almost. His hand came into contact with the blonde's cheek as the boy tightened the blanket around himself, covering the mysterious scarring on his neck. Hitoshi's breath hitched in his throat once again as he wiped the teen's tears away. His skin was cold as ice. Unnaturally cold, to an extent that made his heart rate pick up in the worse way. It wasn't chilly like Todoroki's. Todoroki's right side felt like he had an icy mist swirling beneath his skin, cooling half his body. Neito's skin was just... just cold.

"It's going to be okay." Hitoshi assured him, brushing some of his friend's hair from his face and taking a deep breath. "I'm here, Neito. It's okay."

Neito hiccuped, allowing himself to sit up. He was dressed in the thickest hoodie he could find, and the fluffiest pajama bottoms he could track down. They were Lillian's, but they were a few sizes too big on her anyway, and he knew she wouldn't mind. He leaned towards his friend, hand shakily raising. He looked into Hitoshi's eyes, and saw familiarity. This was his friend, and he was okay. He was here, at home. Safe. 

His hand pressed against Hitoshi's chest, palm splayed out flat. Hitoshi didn't say a word, and Neito certainly wasn't about to. So they sat in silence, waiting. Hitoshi could feel the coldness of Neito's hand through his button up shirt. Worry dug its claws in deep and refused to let go. He itched to text Lillian and Shoto to tell them what was going on, but refrained as he gazed at Neito. 

It was still the Neito he knew, Hitoshi recognized. He hadn't changed, but... something had. Neito had put walls up, maybe without realizing. Why, he didn't know, and he was a little afraid to find out. But he had to. This was Neito, and something horrible had happened to him. He had no idea what it was. Not a single clue. Neito didn't seem too ready to talk about it either, clearly scared out of his wits. He was also... something was just wrong. He wasn't sure if the teen was really just sick, or if it was something deeper. It seemed deeper. It seemed... it seemed really bad. Really, really bad.

It took a moment, but Neito was finally able to detect it. It was a steady thrum against his palm. Neito closed his eyes, his next inhale feeling like a breath of fresh air. His shoulders relaxed, his entire body seeming to slouch as Hitoshi's pulse thumped against him. It seemed to fill him, and for a moment he wasn't cold. He wasn't cold, because Hitoshi was here, and he was so, so alive. He was here with Hitoshi, unchanged. Nothing had happened to him, and he was here. He was here, with Hitoshi, and it was all okay. At least for right now. He wasn't dead yet. Not yet. Not now. He had to believe that, despite the voices.

уσυ'яє ησт αℓινє. ησт αηумσяє.

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

"Wh-Where are we going?" Lillian asked cautiously as Mic drove giddily down the street. It was the final day of her internships. Tomorrow, Mic would be driving her back to the school so she could get to class. A part of her was excited for that. She'd missed her classmates and was ready to hear all about their experiences, and moreover, to finally see Neito again. She'd seen both Shoto and Hitoshi, and even Bakugo during her time with Mic. Neito apparently broken his phone, cutting off communication between him and everyone else. She missed him dearly.

"You'll see." Mic grinned excitedly. "You may hate it, but it'll be worth it!"

"Wait, what?" Lillian muttered, brows furrowing as Mic suddenly pulled into a packed parking lot at the last second. She blinked rapidly, leaning forward to try and figure out where they were. The sound of a bass seeped into the car, seeming to make her entire body and the vehicle itself pulse to life. It took her only a moment after that to recognize what was going on and where they were. Her face paled.

Whoa, what's this? Her? Beginning to panic? Oh my god, no, never! Hah... hah hah! She didn't totally want to bury herself alive right now and slowly suffocate beneath the Earth's surface or anything. I mean, that would be the height of irrationality considering she had no idea what she was getting into. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, and Mr. Mic was just being dramatic! He was totally dramatic! All the time! 

...She swore to fuck she was going to kermit if-

"U-Uh... M-Mr. Mic... what are we doing here?" Lillian hoped her voice wasn't actually as high pitched as it sounded in her ears. There was a field of open land that spanned almost an entire four acres. It wasn't a super large amount, but it was rare to find any open land here in the city. This field had a specific purpose though. She'd seen it time and time again in videos, because it was a common place for events to be hosted due to its location and size. 

Present Mic didn't hold as many DJing events as he used to, but the ones he did were always booming. People, fans or not, came from across Japan and even from other countries just to attend. The crowds almost always spilt past the lands borders and into the parts surrounding, but nobody minded. Pro heroes were always seen in the crowds, bouncing along with the rest of the fans there to whatever beats Mic pulled from his laptop. They usually lasted until the early hours of the morning

She'd never come to one before. It was pretty open, the whole thing funded by the stands set up along the borders of the concert. Lillian simply wasn't a fan of crowds. She had a feeling that was about the be an issue. Mic was the one on the stage, doing literally everything. He hyped up the crowd, picked the music, took requests. So on and so forth. It was basically a giant party where the pro hero world met the regular one in a cacophony of alcohol, overpriced food, limited edition merchandise and dancing to whatever music was in.

"Alright, I can already see you panicking, but don't worry! You don't have to do anything! Just sit there and be... you!" Mic grinned as they pulled up to the valet, who'd drive Mic's car to a separate location to avoid it being stolen or anything of that sort. The field's parking lot was around the corner, so valeting was yet another thing they made mad bank off of.

"M-Mr. Mic, I don't know i-if this is a-a good idea." Lillian admitted. She didn't want to embarrass Mic by freaking out on stage in front of everyone. A lot of these events were broadcast on live television as well, which was the last thing she needed. If she thought being on the radio show brought too much attention, she had another thing coming if she was going to risk appearing in front of a camera. Of course, she'd hit the news the other day stopping that building, but this event was more... lax. Social. Something more people would pay attention to and remember. Collapsing buildings were nothing new. Headbanging at concerts that brought people from far and wide was another story.

"Oh come on, it'll be fun! You're totally ready for it, little listener! Some of your classmates will be there! I also invited that... uh, Chad guy." Mic looked marginally more uncomfortable. Hunting down that man's phone number had been an absolute nightmare. He'd called Tsukauchi and tried to find it through him. It shouldn't have been all that surprising that the detective didn't have it either. Mic would have asked Lillian, but that would have given it away. In the end, he'd used Hawks, who'd used Shoto in extension. Apparently Chad had switched his number several times since starting his hunt for the Yakuza and his meme kids were the only ones able to keep up with the rapid switching.

"My classmates?" Lillian looked even more horrified as she exited the car, almost on reflex. She was dressed in her hero costume, having expected them to end on something like a later night patrol, as the night tended to bring out a little more unsavory types. It would be a challenge, with her quirk being so based on sight. Japan was pretty short on street lights. It always seemed like they were getting ripped from the ground, either from someone or something hitting or, or from someone using it as a weapon. Or in Mount Lady's case, stepping on them.

"...It'll be great!" Mic put a hand on her shoulder and began to lead her to the backstage area they had set up. She looked mortified, having fallen into some sort of semi-catatonic state during which she didn't at all respond to the few fans walking toward the front that screamed her and Mic's names. The crowd in front of the stage was steadily growing. You didn't have to look to know that; the sound was more than enough.

Lillian had literally no idea what to do. This being sprung on her wasn't what she expected. She knew it was probably a good thing that would help her going forward. It seemed like a moment in her life she could easily look back on and deem it her best. Not many people peaked this early in life. If this was Lillian's all time high, the only way to go was down. She wouldn't be surprised if she ended up dead in a ditch by thirty. Just- she was going to die. Some of them knew her from the radio show, but what about everyone else?! They probably hated her!

She thought about Neito and Hitoshi and hesitated. They'd definitely be watching this. She didn't doubt it would be live streamed, and Hitoshi had mentioned their blonde friend being a little down in the dumps. Even if she didn't do much else but stand there, maybe it would cheer him up? Even if she looked like an idiot or cried, Lillian knew it would still lift Neito's spirits. He was just that kind of guy. So maybe... okay, no, she was going to die. Yeah, death. It was happening. Bon voyage, life! Hell was the only thing left for her-

"This place fucking sucks." Bakugo hissed as he and Chad shoved towards the front. They'd brought Vlad with them, disguising him in regular attired and a hat to hide his brain. It was pretty dark, so he probably wouldn't be recognized so long as he kept his wings nice and folded and his beak snapped shut. Eri was on the creature's shoulders, humming happily to herself. Apparently she and that shit stain bird fuck were best friends in the entire fucking universe now. Bakugo had tried to tell her Vlad was a killing machine that could snap away from whatever the fuck the brain punch did, but she insisted he was an idiot who knew nothing about the magic of friendship. Chad didn't appear to have an opinion and had taught Vlad how to fist bump, but that was about it.

Her jab at his 'not understanding friendship' was bullshit, though. He knew plenty! He had Lillian, and they were friends, so fuck Vlad, and Eri belittling his knowledge. She didn't know shit.

"You're the one who wanted to come. I told you you could stay back, but here you are, ready to groove." Chad eyed Bakugo carefully. It was pretty clear he was feeling more than simple friendship towards Lillian. He wasn't sure it was actual attraction, or if he was just getting attached. He seemed like the type to cling and never let go. Lillian was cute and sweet, but also sassy and reasonably bold when she wanted to be. When with people she was comfortable around, she was a force to be reckoned with. Bakugo probably dug that.

"Shut up." Bakugo's face went red, but he told himself it was too dark for anyone to tell as he scowled to himself. He spotted the icyhot bastard with Chad's brother a ways away, and decided to stop going that direction and stop where he was. He had a good fucking view anyway, and they were close enough to the front as it was. Besides, if Lillian saw Vlad up close, she might freak the fuck out and lose her shit. He didn't want to have to drag her off stage or anything like that. He was shit at calming people down! The fuck would he do? He wasn't about to hold her hand and sing Kumbaya. 

The lights dimmed, and Mic came sauntering out onto stage. Bakugo's red eyes scanned the area, teeth clenched in the way they usually were. Anticipation swelled, the world seemed to slow, and everyone collectively held their breath as they waited. Mic had tweeted about it, but anyone who'd heard Lillian say two sentences outside of meme references and Endeavor hate knew just how skittish and unsure she was. The girl had some major anxiety, and nobody blamed her for that. Of course not. It wasn't her fault, but they all knew what it entailed.

Mic glanced behind him and seemed to do a double take, brows shooting up above his orange sunglasses. The field buzzed with an odd sort of silence you wouldn't have thought possible with so many excited people in the same area. Mic made some hand motions some recognized to be ASL, not to be confused with JSl. American sign language wasn't widely known here in Japan, but it was a well known fact that Lillian knew English. Did she know some American Sign Language too? He thought Mic had mentioned teaching her some on the show the other day, but Bakugo hadn't really been paying attention to the blonde man.

The girl's head hesitantly popped out from the side door that led backstage, and the crowd came to life with a roar. Bakugo let out a hiss as someone jostled against him, twisting around to give whoever it was a piece of his mind. Whoever it was was already moving on when Bakugo turned, hood pulled up over their head. He caught a glimpse of a few tufts of black hair sticking out in spikes not unlike his own before the man was disappearing into the crowd. He scoffed.

"Can I get a hey?!" Mic boomed, his voice reverberating across the field. They all responded immediately, hands thrown up into the air with clear enthusiasm as people readied themselves for the rager ahead. Lillian skittered to Mic's side behind his table of equipment, clearly sweating and nervous. Her eyes scanned the crowd in search of any of her classmates, hoping to god Mic was wrong and none of them outside her memesters were here.

Shoto wasn't hard to miss, but he'd texted her that he and Hawks had arrived. She wished he would have told her he knew, but realized he probably assumed she already knew, or Mic told him it was a surprise. Either was, she was glad he was here. He was definitely a comfort, seeing as Hitoshi and Neito couldn't make it. Apparently Neito was sick from his internship. Hitoshi was so terribly vague about it, telling her he'd tell her more once she was home. It worried her, but she was relieved to know at least her blonde friend wasn't alone. Especially if he was feeling depressed.

Another person that wasn't hard to miss was Eri. She was sitting on the shoulders of a seven foot, winged Nomu she nearly hadn't recognized due to the clothes it was wearing. Her heart stuttered at the sight, but the clothes on it helped. It looked almost like anyone might were they to have a mutation quirk. Like Shoji and Tokoyami thrown into a mixing pot with something else. Hawks, maybe? 

Bakugo and Chad were with them, as was expected. Her blue eyes met his blazing scarlet ones, and she couldn't help but smile a little and offer a wave. He hadn't waved back, but the jerk of his head he offered as more than enough. She was surprised he was here and had responded at all. They were friends over the phone, but hadn't really hung out, save for that time they'd indulged themselves with spicy ramen. She'd never forget the look on Bakugo's face when he realized how well she could handle the flavor.

The concert started, and Lillian stood. It wasn't too bad. She didn't have to talk to anyone, and she didn't have to move. She swayed slightly along with the music, humming to herself as she watched the music waves bounce on the laptop screen. They were the most recent songs, along with some classic hits that were still in. Mic's playlist was pretty vast, ranging from pop, funk, goth, rap, and so on and so forth. It was interesting to see. 

The crowd was loving it. They danced, some sung along to the catchier songs, and drinks were passed all around. Merch was being bought and worn, people were cheering and whooping. Most danced like no one was watching, small clearings in the crowd appearing for anyone who might want to go all out in their routine. Lillian thought she may have caught a glimpse of Mirio once, but brushed it off as her paranoid, over-active imagination. 

Her eyes swept the crowd every so often. Sometimes they'd see her looking at an uproar would arise, people cheering for her. Lillian didn't quite understand that. She hadn't said anything. Were they freaking out just because she moved? Sometimes she squealed over Erasercat or Yeet just because they were breathing and were cute, but that was usually right before her period when she either got really, really sad, or insanely bubbly. That being said, she wasn't a cat, or a snake. 

"Little Listener." Mic nudged her, voice low as he drew her attention. His golden eyes peered over the tops of his white-rimmed sunglasses. Lillian's eyes trailed down to the microphone he was holding, and she paled. This was a bad idea. What was he doing? This was a bad, bad idea. "It would be just like on the radio show, just... in person. I thought maybe you'd want to pick a song!"

Okay, picking a song wouldn't be so bad. All she had to do was press play, right? Well, and find it. What if they didn't like it? But if there were memesters out there... she couldn't just leave them hanging, could she? Of course not! Not to mention Neito and Hitoshi! There were so many song options she was sure would get them wheezing, and possible keeling over. She tentatively took the microphone from the blonde, earning a few shrieks from the booming crowd that made her wince and flush. Her eyes found Shoto's, and then Chad's. Eri was clapping, and Bakugo had... well, she really couldn't tell whether or not he was grinning.

She pulled the laptop towards herself and typed in her chosen song, muttering to herself as she did so. Mic stood by and gave her her space, still grinning like he was the sun itself. Lillian still couldn't help but feel like this was a horrible idea, and that she was going to mess everything up. But she also knew it was way, way too late to turn back now, so that was fun. She was definitely teetering on the edge of a panic attack at the moment. Her chest felt indescribably tight, and her heart was beating so fast she could barely feel it anymore. One boo from the crowd or word of slander would send her world tumbling to the ground, which wasn't good considering the fact that assholes and trolls existed no matter where you went. 

Mic's song ended, and the crowd silenced a Lillian took a few deep breaths. People stared readily at her, patient and excited. Telling herself that if worse came to worst she could bail out by freezing a majority of the crowd and booking it, and live out her days in a jail cell, she brought the microphone up to her mouth. Everyone seemed to lean forward as she pulled at the thin threads of her dying courage, summoning as much meme-confidence as she could. Chad gave her a grin and a thumbs up, sunglasses glinting in the multi-colored lights flashing about. Vlad mimicked the movement, and it was almost comforting for some reason. She thought of Neito and Hitoshi. If she was going to die, she was going to go down swinging. 

There was a beat. She took a breath. Yolo was dead, but god dammit. 

"Arrrrreeeee yah ready kids?!" Her voice trembled, and Mic froze, looking incredibly confused. The crowd absolutely shrieked with no hints of hesitation in the least. Her heart swelled, skipping a few beats as her cheeks went red. Calm! She needed to stay calm! Jesus, take the wheel. This was too much.

"Aye aye, captain!" The screamed with an enthusiasm Mic had never seen in his audience, hands in the air as they cheered, hooted, and whistled. His eyes shifted back to Lillian, who was still sweating and unsure, but seemed to be taking well to the positive response. She took another breath.

"I can't hear youuu!" She called into the microphone, earning more cheers.

"AYE AYE, CAPTAIN!" The crowd screamed so loudly Mic wouldn't be surprised if the whole prefecture could heard them. Lillian inhaled slow and deep, gripping the microphone in sweaty hands. Her eyes connected with Bakugo's. He looked fairly stunned as she rolled her shoulders, opening her mouth again.

"OHHHHHHHH-"

Her hand slammed down on the space bar, unpausing the electric remix of the Sponge Bob Square Pants opening that sent the crowd into a frenzy so loud it almost drowned out the music. Mic looked dumbfounded and shell shocked by the monstrous response. He'd held several concerts in his life time, but they'd never reached such... volumes. And since when could Lillian hold a note that well? She stuttered so much he thought her raising her voice above a certain level would cause her entire being to crumble.

Bakugo was laughing so hard his gut hurt. This was fucking happening right now. Lillian had just screamed some shit into the microphone, and people had screamed back. He couldn't believe it. He was stuck between cackling and taking out his phone to collect more first-hand evidence. He didn't doubt footage would be blazing across the internet, though. Lillian had already attracted a few news crews just by existing, as had Mic, but the sound had drawn even more.

The song ended, and Lillian's name was being chanted. He saw her look to Mic and sputter something, to which he'd shrugged and gave an encouraging grin. Lillian looked like she didn't know what to do with that. He watched her type something else into the laptop with a grin on his face. The Icyhot Bastard and the Chicken Shit had gravitated towards them. He'd never really seen Icyhot smile before, and yet he looked like his face was about to split in two as he video taped it all.

Lillian was in charge of the next few songs, per the audience's request. Big Time Rush, the Magic School Bus opening, Hannah Montana, All Star by Smash Mouth, a song called Sk8tr Boi by Avril Lavigne that everyone screamed along to. People absolutely flipped their lids at everything she played. She seemed to have an unlimited amount of songs stored up. Bill Nye's thirty second opening was brief, but worth it if the rippling in the overjoyed crowd was anything to go by. They were loving everything Lillian was putting out. Mic had no idea what any of this was or how it was happening. He'd never seen such an enthusiastic response. The pride he felt was damn well near overwhelming.

Lillian seemed more and more comfortable the more meme-oriented songs were played. Less hip hop pieces about love and more dank shit that made her want to break dance. She wasn't near as good as Hitoshi, and Chad was essentially a god at it, but she was okay. Neito couldn't do it for shit, but could spin on his head for a full thirty seconds with his legs straight up in the air and his arms stretched out like helicopter blades. The longest he'd gone was nearly a full minute, and he'd screamed at the top of his lungs the whole time.

Bakugo was sort of in awe. The fact that she was definitely terrorizing Kaminari wasn't going to be so secret now. Eri was clapping along happily to songs she didn't know, and Chad was sipping a margarita Bakugo hadn't even seen him get. Vlad was swaying, copying the people around him. The front lines weren't nearly as hectic as the sort-of-mosh-pit forming in the center where people were dancing. Speaking of mosh pit, was that Icyhot back there moon walking or was he seeing things-

Lillian had no idea what she was doing or how she'd managed to get into this situation. If she'd known in advance, she would have asked Jiro for advice. She'd performed before. Not in front of an audience this big, but in front of actual people nonetheless. To top it all off, her parents were also huge in the music industry. She could have given Lillian pointers or something. She was going on autopilot, just doing whatever came to mind before short circuited out and fell into a permanent coma. Stopping even more a moment, she was sure, would have disastrous results.

The next surprise came in the form of Guns and Ships, and the realization that Lillian could rap. A terrifying discovery, but Bakugo reveled in it.

"I'm taking this horse by the reins, making redcoats redder with blood stains!"

"Lafayette!" The crowd screamed.

"And I'm never gonna stop until I make 'em drop, and burn 'em up and scatter the remains, I'm-"

"Lafayette!" 

"Watch me engaging 'em, escaping 'em, enraging 'em, ow!"

"Lafayette!"

Bakugo realized that for all her nervousness, Lillian was probably the coolest damn chick he'd ever fucking met. The way her unsure attitude would wash away, and the way she'd get comfortable and situated made him grin every time. She would cry over this later and freak out, but right now? Right now she was Lillian, and that was it. She wasn't panicking, and though she was still somewhat hesitant, the look on Mic's face seemed to help in driving her. Bakugo couldn't blame her. He was pretty sure the guy's soul had left his body.

"I go to France for more funds."

"Lafayette!"

"I come back with more guns."

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

It went unseen on the news. Lillian being dragged onto stage was blowing up far too much for anyone to really notice. Lillian's fame was reaching its height thanks to Mic. Nobody knew how to feel about this. The girl was taking it surprisingly well, though Aizawa was still worried. He watched the concert with a small smile on his face. She looked ready to fall over, trembling all over, her face pale as a sheet. She was going to have a huge breakdown after all that was over. That was on Mic, though, for springing it on her.

Even he didn't see it air. It was very brief, the reporter solemn, with downcast eyes and a small voice. The scene behind her wasn't of great note. It was a small little office building, though the police cruisers jammed in front of it betrayed that something was going on. It was too dark to see through the buildings windows. Nobody would want to see through, anyway. Not if they knew what lay beyond those walls.

"It saddens me to report that... that Jay, the well beloved Songbird hero, was found... f-found dead in his agency, a-along with several of his s-sidekicks and staff. It is unknown what caused this o-or how... h... how long they've been dead. Reports of their agency failing t-to respond to various calls for help across the prefecture s-started to come in just a few days ago. When fellow agencies failed to make contact, they came to... t-to investigate." The reporter looked like she might be sick. "As of right now... th-there are no bodies."

One of camera men seemed to shift. "How do we know the identities of the victims if there are no bodies?"

The reporter, tears in her eyes, felt bile rise in her throat. There was only a second for the camera to turn away before the woman was hunching over, emptying the contents of her stomach on the ground. 

𝑰𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒂𝒊𝒅 𝒊𝒏 𝒄𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒎𝒔, "𝑶𝒇𝒇 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒔!"

𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒐 𝒐𝒇𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒔 𝒄𝒂𝒎𝒆.

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒐 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒂 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔.

𝑬𝒂𝒄𝒉 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒉𝒂𝒔 𝒂 𝒃𝒐𝒅𝒚, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒉 𝒃𝒐𝒅𝒚 𝒉𝒂𝒔 𝒂 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅. 𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒘𝒐 𝒅𝒆𝒕𝒂𝒄𝒉, 𝒊𝒕 𝒃𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝒄𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒓. 𝑶𝒃𝒗𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔. 𝒀𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒆. 𝑵𝒐𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆.