chapter 27

3 HOURS EARLIER
During the Provisional License Exam
New League of Villains Warehouse

Shimamura's head hung low, letting her chin meet her clavicle. She was exhausted. She hadn't slept in over 24 hours... at least, that's what she thought. Maybe it was longer. Maybe it was shorter. She had no sense of time in this warehouse. No windows. No doors. No shed of sunlight anywhere in her field of vision. She wondered if she was underground or if the League was smart enough to board up all their windows to keep their prisoners crazy.

She twisted her wrists in her bindings, but to no avail. All it did was grind more red markings into her pale skin. The metal cuffs overtop of her hands made her arms heavy, trying to pull her into the ground from the sole weight. Her shoulders hunched forward to keep from sliding back and leaving her neck exposed. In the presence of Himiko Toga, she knew to be careful.

Her crystalline blue eyes nearly matched in hue of the light grey smoke the Wraith currently puffed out of her mouth. Her cigarette positioned between her index and middle finger.

The strange villain lounged on a velvet red, dirty, chair across from Shimamura's chair. The Wraith sat sideways so her back was propped up on one arm of the chair while her legs dangled off the opposite arm.

The black skirt was draped over the head of the chair so both her bare legs were visible. The other dagger holster was then made visible on her usually hidden leg. For as long as Shimamura sat in that room, the Wraith never took her mask off.

She also wouldn't stop smoking.

She let out another puff of smoke, sighing. "When U.A. said they were getting new dorms for all their students, I was expecting something a bit... nicer? Maybe giant mansions for all their classes?" Miyazaki shrugged. "I presume they were on a budget after they probably had to beg the parents to let their children to come back."

She had been monologuing for almost the entire time that Shimamura had been sitting in that chair. She hadn't asked her prisoner many questions, but she also didn't expect her to stay so quiet. It was as if Miyazaki wanted to make conversation with her captive.

But Shimamura just listened on, unresponsive.

"Parents can be such a bother sometimes. Don't you think?" The Wraith glanced at Shimamura with her piercing golden eyes. Her pupils were always dilated.

Shimamura kept her head down, not making eye contact. The Wraith rolled her eyes, smirking. She put her cigarette out on the cement floor and stood up, tossing the bud to the side. She casually stretched her back out and walked over to a small table in the corner that Shimamura hadn't noticed before.

"You know, T, you really are such a good conversationalist." When Miyazaki had started calling Shimamura, 'T', she couldn't remember. The sarcasm practically dripped from Miyazaki's voice. "I almost think they might miss you."

Shimamura peeked up, staring at Miyazaki across the room. The woman's slim silhouette spun around almost instantly to face her captive again. She had another, new cigarette in her hand. A lighter in the other. She lit it with ease and tossed the metal lighter back on the table.

The Wraith sauntered over to Shimamura's chair and cocked her head to the side to stare down at her, almost at a ninety degree angle. Shimamura imagined the villain had fangs behind her mask, decorating her already horrific smile. Horrific, yet charming.

"I love your hair, dear." She put her cigarette under her mask and between her teeth, picking up a strand of Shimamura's hair with both hands. She combed through it with her long, red nails. Soothingly.

"We're twins. Don't you think?" She gestured to her own DNA-strand-looking mass of black and white hair.

However, the amount of white hair was much less than the black. Less than what Shimamura remembered the woman had when she first appeared to her. As if the white had just disappeared or fallen out. But that wasn't the case. Shimamura had a hunch.

"Y-you..." Shima croaked, her voice hoarse from silence and fatigue. The smoke had also done damage on her vocal chords with Miyazaki constantly smoking her cigarettes.

Miyazaki raised an eyebrow at her from behind the mask. "Take your time. Don't hurt yourself," she cooed.

Shimamura coughed, then finally spoke again. "You're insane."

Miyazaki scoffed. "Only the truly insane can recognize the difference between sanity and their allies."

Shimamura pursed her lips together. The Wraith draped Shimamura's hair across her back and turned to walk away from her. She sat and slouched in her velvet throne again, staring at Shimamura. Puffing her cigarette with ease.

"What do you want from me? Huh?" Shimamura was getting tired of this. "You've kept me here and hardly asked me anything... hardly hurt me. That's not the League of Villains' style."

Shimamura could remember when Bakugou was kidnapped. He had talked shortly about it but not much. But she knew what he went through. They were willing to pull all the stops to kidnap and convert Bakugou... this was not the same.

Miyazaki shrugged, taking a long smoke.

Shimamura continued, "You're not even a part of the League of Villains."

This got a rise out of Miyazaki. A laugh. "Please, sweetheart. You have no clue what their intentions are."

"Oh yeah?" Shimamura lead her on. "Try me."

Miyazaki tipped her chin up, giving Shimamura an interested stare. She gestured with her hand for Shimamura to state her case. As if Shimamura were presenting to a judge. The U.A. student went on.

"I've heard of you. The Wraith. You have a hero conversion ratio of 1 in 3 — for every 3 heroes you come in contact with, at least one of them will turn to a life of crime. As if you showed them the spot of darkness in the light. The League of Villains hired you to do the same for them after their failed attempt with Bakugou. Now you're just wasting your time until they pay up and take me now that you've done the dirty work."

A smirk played at the corners of Shimamura's lips, "Not only that, but you're recharging. You're not smoking because it can kill you, you're smoking because it heals you. Your quirk spends your energy and health, but the cigarette smoke helps you regain what you lost. That's why your white hair is turning black again.

"Am I close yet?"

The Wraith twitched from her velvet throne. Her golden eyes glanced to the side then back at Shimamura. Her devilish grin never leaving her. "You're more perceptive than you look but... not quite."

She stood again, pacing the space between the chair and Shimamura. She blew out a pillar of grey smoke. "The last bit, pretty close. A+ for effort. The first part of your little schpeel, not so much."

Another plume of smoke.

"The League of Villains didn't hire me. I joined them. Their little kidnap act with explosion boy was truly pitiful, but they got their idea across. I came to execute that idea."

She reached down and pulled out a sharp dagger smoothly from its sheath. She twirled it in her grip, holding her cigarette in her other hand. The dagger was oddly curved like a snake, sloping in and out up to the tip. The metal was as dark as night, glistening with slight flecks of white imbedded.

"Our methods are different than the last attempt. We've got this far haven't we? And I know we haven't given you much access to a TV or the news like you're so accustomed to, but I can tell you that no one knows you're gone." She rolled her eyes back, a thought occurring. "Well, maybe someone knows. But they don't know where. They don't know how. And they don't know who.

"If I did my job right—which I always do—then they'll go on believing you ran off." Miyazaki giggled. "They're quite easy to fool, those U.A. bastards."

Shimamura's nose scrunched up subconsciously as she stared at Miyazaki with a look of disgust. Miyazaki closed the space between her and her prisoner. The dagger's sharp point nearing Shimamura's bare skin by her neck. That same smirk shimmered through the red mask.

"I'm your friend here, Tikki."

"It doesn't really seem like it..." Shimamura growled with the knife point by her throat.

Miyazaki laughed. A soft, sultry, laugh. Her head tipped back and her hair fell from across her shoulder.

"You'll see. I can promise you that."

Miyazaki backed away, the dagger following her. It barely skimmed Shimamura' skin, drawing a small amount of blood. The dark red liquid dripped onto her white pajama shirt. Her breath returning to her that she didn't even know she was holding.

Shimamura's upper body fell forward again, shivering. The villain returned to the table to extinguish and get another cigarette. Shimamura jammed her eyes close, letting the tears fall. Where they came from, she hadn't a clue. The overwhelming fear and sadness took over her entire body, rocking her to her core. Everything seemed to suddenly hit her like a brick.

Miyazaki watched Shimamura's new movements in the corner of her eye.

"Interesting..."

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

1 DAY AFTER THE PROVISIONAL LICENSE EXAM

The dorm corridors were quiet. Class 1-A was in class this morning, probably training and learning to their hearts' content. Everyone was healthy and attending... everyone except for Midoriya, Bakugou, and Shimamura. Bakugou and Midoriya were on house arrest after their fight the night before. Bruised, bandaged, and mentally exhausted.

The two boys were currently collecting the trash that they could get from the open dorm rooms and the kitchen. Bakugou had sent Midoriya to the first floor where Midoriya's room was to grab the trash while Bakugou went to get his own. They were making due with their situation. Sort of.

Midoriya dragged a beige trash bag behind him as he walked down the hallway, towards the first floor rooms. But something stopped him.

The sound of a door opening and closing made him halt. He stopped fast in his tracks.

"—no sign of a struggle. The odds of that to have happened are very low, Irisa."

That's Principle Nezu's voice. What is he doing in our dorm?

"We can't slim the options based on a single detail. Anything is possible." Aizawa grumbled, level headed as ever.

"She wouldn't run off. I know my niece. That's not something she'd do."

Miss Arima — Wait, so then they're talking about Shima?

"Well what are we supposed to tell the media? We have a missing student?" Miss Midnight was here too.

Midoriya could almost hear his short principle shake his head, no. "Unfortunately, I don't believe it is in our best interest to make any sort of statement until we know exactly what occurred here."

"And what about Tikki's best interest?!" Arima whisper-yelled at him.

There was silence.

Aizawa put a hand on Arima's shoulder, calming her down. She took a deep breath.

"My apologies, Nezu. But with all due respect, we need to do something. Waiting for a sign that we might never receive is not helping our case."

"I fully agree with—"

Aizawa cut Nezu off. "Irisa."

Midoriya blinked. Suddenly, Mr. Aizawa and Miss Arima stood directly in front of Midoriya, towering over him. The student jumped in surprise. How did they get here so fast?!

From behind him, Principal Nezu and Miss Midnight were walking down the hallway, headed for the door of their building. Arima stared down at him, raising a skeptical eyebrow. Aizawa just watched Midoriya's posture. He knew his student.

"Midoriya."

"Mister Aizawa! Miss Arima! I-I was just headed to get the trash." He wasn't exactly telling a lie.

"I forgot you and Bakugou were here, Midoriya," Arima's tone was sharp and biting. "My mistake. How could I forget with your little... situation... last night?"

"Uh... right." Midoriya scratched the back of his head.

Arima flexed her wrist wrapped in white boxing tape back and forth. Then Midoriya realized how they had appeared so quickly.

She used her quirk on him.

When they discovered Midoriya was hiding there, Arima must have used her Freeze Frame quirk as a reactionary response, not knowing it was him. Experiencing her quirk was a lot different than just watching it. It was as if no time had gone by at all. In reality, he had missed the past minute or so. The Principal and Midnight had walked away by the time she turned her quirk off. And now these two teachers stood before him, suspicious.

But he was probably more suspicious of them than they were of him.

"How come you are in the dorm?" he asked.

Aizawa and Arima exchanged uncomfortable glances. Aizawa responded calmly, "Checking on Shimamura's room. Seeing if she left anything." It was an easy lie to make and pass off as a truth. Midoriya almost believed him.

"She's not in her room...?"

"No," Arima snapped, but quickly regained her calm composure as a teacher. "She was moved to the hospital late last night. Her illness is worse than we thought. But she'll be back soon."

Midoriya's mouth flattened into a straight line. Aizawa narrowed his eyes at him. He knew that Midoriya didn't believe them. It was only a matter of time until he found the truth.

"Back to your work, Midoriya. Arima and I have elsewhere to be. Don't forget you're here on punishment."

The two towering teachers slid past him on either side with ease. He didn't even try to stop them—which shocked Arima. Aizawa whispered to his old friend.

"He won't remain quiet about what he saw."

Arima's jaw tightened. "I know..." she growled back. This news was going to get out a lot sooner than any of them anticipated. Izuku Midoriya was turning into a bigger problem than she had previously imagined.

The teachers walked past Bakugou as he headed to Midoriya's floor. He gave them a weird look but otherwise ignored it. Weird. He turned the corner to see Midoriya just standing there, staring at one of the closed doors in the hallway.

That little...

"Oi! The hell are you doing?! You're supposed to be taking out the trash, Deku!" Bakugou shouted at him.

Midoriya didn't even jump. He slowly glanced at Bakugou for no longer than a second before reverting his attention back to whatever he was staring at. Bakugou grumbled. What is he looking at?

"Something isn't right..." Midoriya mumbled.

Bakugou stood next to the green head, mimicking Midoriya's eyeline. Their eyes trained on the dark wooden dorm door of Tikki Shimamura. They didn't have to test the knob to know it was locked.

"Whatever..."

Bakugou rolled his eyes. Midoriya shook his head. The blond turned on his heel and started storming down the hallway again, wanting to get back to work.

"I think something's happened to Shimamura."

He froze. A chill went up his spine. He turned his head slightly to look back at Midoriya. But he turned back, scrunching up his nose. Deku was imagining things.

She's ok. There's no way she's not.