Lemillion's heart was racing, and the familiar sense of dread filled his chest and stomach, like the sinking of a ship's anchor. Chisaki knew they were coming, which meant he was already on the move, almost certainly with the girl in tow. He had no way of knowing just how far behind them he was, or if he was even taking the fastest path to them. All he knew was he had to do something. He had to keep moving. He had long since committed Sir Nighteye's map to memory, so he was just doing all he could to reach Eri's room. If she was already gone, well, he'd figure it out from there.

As he rounded a corner, a muffled reverberation drummed against his ears. For a brief second, he thought it was the sound of his own fast-beating heart, but the noise was too arrhythmic. As he continued to run, he noticed it was quickly getting louder, closer. He promptly recognized the noise to be the sound of breaking concrete and expected that a villain would soon be upon him, so he slowed to a jog and waited until the sound was no longer muffled, preparing for a fight.

Passing through another wall, the expected crash came just a few seconds later. As Lemillion kept moving forward, setting his right foot down in front of the left, he pivoted on the ball of his foot and changed the direction of his stance in the blink of an eye, timing his
attack perfectly so his pursuer would run straight into his punch. But instead of feeling the familiar impact of muscle and bone against his fist, he suddenly felt his feet quite literally being pulled out from under him. Instinctively, he turned his head and braced himself to roll out of the inevitable fall. Instead, he found himself being turned very abruptly in midair, his feet passing over his head until suddenly he was right side up again, facing the direction he'd been traveling in and moving at twice the speed.

Regaining his bearings, Lemillion shook his head and realized he was in some strange state of suspension. He could move without resistance, but at the same time felt weightless. Like there was nothing for him to press against to initiate that movement. The closest thing he could think of to compare it to was like being submerged in water, but he could still breathe.

"Beacon?" He asked in surprise, noticing for the for the first time the figure on his left, just outside what he now realized was a sphere of hard light. "Where are the others?"

"Concentrating." Beacon said sharply as he carried himself and Lemillion through the many
winding tunnels. Searching the entire layout of the underground complex while simultaneously maintaining his awareness of his own position while also carrying out Mirio was no easy task. His consciousness was essentially being split into two parts, and any
unnecessary distractions, such as pointless questions, risked pulling him away from one of the two. Fortunately, Mirio seemed to reach the same conclusion and remained silent, but that didn't stop him from curiously watching Beacon out of the corner of his eye.

In his time as at UA, Mirio noticed that heroes were all cut from the same cloth. They all bore the same burning spirits, sparked to life by the flames of battle and fueled by their strict sense of justice and honor. And when that fire raged, like it did now in Mirio, it forced
them to act without any consideration for their own wellbeing. They moved because they had to, because inaction made them feel helpless, because their fires burned, and it is not in
a fire's nature to sit still.

But (L/N) was not the same. His was not a raging fire, it was a controlled flame, and he wielded it with precision. He was not the type of person to act without first considering every angle. He was calculated in his actions. Logical in a way that allowed him to separate
himself from the battle and remain analytical. So why was he here, chasing after the person who so blindly charged ahead in abandonment of logic? It seemed a curious contradiction to his character.

"Get ready." Lemillion shook his head clear and refocused his attention on the sound of Beacon's voice. "We're about to have company."

[My Hero Academia]

(L/N) woke with a sharp inhale at the melodic sound of artificial wind chimes gently ringing from a nearby alarm. Groaning into his pillow, he rolled onto his stomach and his arm flopped off the edge of the bed, his hand blindly feeling around his nightstand in search
of his clock, desperate to hit the snooze. He was much too tired to consider waking up, and the bed was far too comfortable. He let out a pitiful, mumbling groan as he continued searching in vain for the source of the noise as it steadily grew louder in its design to
ensure its owner woke up.

"Sorry, that's mine."

The ringing finally stopped just a second later, but (L/N) was wide awake, though it wasn't because of the alarm. Pushing his upper torso off the mattress, unsure whether or not this was all a dream, his head turned quickly in the other direction toward the center of the bed. Her hair tickled underneath his nose and his nostrils immediately picked up the smell of
her shampoo, faint after a full night's sleep, but the scent still lingered in her hair and on
her pillows.

"Mm, good morning." She said sleepily with a sigh of contentment. There were a few seconds of silence in which (L/N) froze, and Momo nuzzled her head into his shoulder, before, "Oh. Oh!"

Fully alert and heart racing, Yaoyorozu quickly pushed herself upright. Or, at least, she
tried, when the top of her head collided painfully with (L/N)'s face with a resounding 'thump'. (L/N) released a cry of pain and surprise at the blow, the impact sending his head lurching backwards as he instinctively recoiled from the pain, which sent him toppling over
the edge of the bed.

Momo winced at the ensuing crash of his body hitting the floor and crawled the short distance to the end of the bed, poking her head over to check on him just as (F/N) started to sit up, causing their foreheads to smack together. Another cry of pain, from both of them this time, and another crash as (F/N) fell back to the floor. Momo's moan of pain quickly
shifted into fitful giggles as she rubbed the spot on her head.

"Are you okay?" She laughed.

(F/N) nodded. "Uh huh. You?"

"I'm alright."

(F/N) sat up with his back against her bedframe and held his finger beneath his nose to check if it was bleeding. "What... what happened?"

"The last thing I remember was saying I just needed to rest my eyes." Yaoyorozu cautiously
approached the edge of the bed again, careful to make sure they weren't about to collide again before pressing her cheek into his hair and hugging him around the neck. "We must have fallen asleep."

That's right, now he remembered. They had been up reading late last night, until their reading turned into talking, and their talking to a languid silence until, as Momo said, she had leaned into him with the promise she was just resting her eyes. Even as he remembered it though, (L/N) felt a strange pulling sensation at the back of his mind. Like there was something else beyond that memory, something he was supposed to remember. Something important.

"How's your head?" Momo asked empathetically, shaking her hair from her eyes as she moved to rest her chin on his right shoulder.

(F/N) didn't answer. Instead, he reached up and covered her hand with his own, gently capturing her small fingers in his grip. He leaned back, deeper into her embrace, a content exhale leaving his lungs as he rested his head against hers. Momo smiled and moved her
head to his other shoulder, laughing silently as his head tilted the other way to follow her, chasing the warmth of her presence.

The breath from her laughter tickled the side of his neck. Whatever was pulling at his
attentions earlier faded as her lips intermittently brushed against the skin just beneath his ear. There they sat for what could have been hours, and for the first time in his memory, (L/N) felt at peace. There was no pain from the past, no worries about the future. He didn't
know what day it was, but it didn't matter, because somehow, he knew there was nothing important happening later. No school, no training. Nothing to pull him away from this moment. Like the world outside this room and this moment didn't exist.

Until it did.

"(L/N)."

The interruption came in the form of a voice. A voice that was familiar yet foreign to him at the same time. (F/N) placed a hand to his temple as the sound of his name reverberated in his mind. It seemed to bounce around the inside of his skull, like a lone voice in an empty cathedral.

"(L/N)!"

His hand shot for his temple and his eyebrows pinched together as the ringing in his ears intensified, the voice swelling louder and louder. It was like a river in a forest. What started as an ambient sound gained in volume and clarity the nearer you drew to the source, until before you was a raging torrent of water that hammered at your ear drums until the current eventually overtook your very being.

"Beacon!"

"You're head still hurts, doesn't it." Momo whispered in his ear.

"Wake up!"

"Oh, poor thing."

"Wake up! You have to wake-"

Leaning over him, Momo placed her lips to his forehead. Heat melted over him, starting at
his forehead and trickling down his spine. A warmth that washed away the cold of the river from a kiss that silenced all the voices in his head. Just like she always did.

Her lips stayed warm against him for several seconds before she slowly pulled away, gently caressing his hair and moving it out and away of his face. (L/N) couldn't help but feel desperate as her hold around his neck loosened and she released her embrace on him.

One hand still on his shoulder, she whispered in his ear.

"Come back to bed."

As her hand left his shoulder he felt another pull in the back of his mind, this one weak and feeble. It was present, but it was easy to ignore. And before him lie a warm soft bed and Momo Yaoyorozu, her hair down and hand outstretched. There came another feeble pull,
even weaker than the last. Reaching out, (F/N) took her hand. She curled up next to him as he fell into the mattress, their noses mere inches apart. He melted as her hand came to rest on his cheek. Holding it there, he turned his face into her touch and, for the first time in many years, the corners of his mouth curled upwards in the faintest trace of a smile.