THE SEARCH SITE - Thursday afternoon.
*Bang!*
"Aye, move that pillar gently." The search coordinator stood at the edge of Sector 7-C, watching teams carefully excavate another section of rubble.
Within three days they've found Seventeen bodies. And still no sign of The Collector.
"This doesn't make sense," he muttered to his second-in-command. "The kid said the villain was fighting at the center of the collapse. Right where the explosion originated."
"Heat signatures confirm extreme temperatures in that zone," his second replied. "Over 1500 degrees Celsius sustained for at least ten minutes. Nothing organic survives that."
"Then where are the fragments? Bone doesn't just disappear completely. Even in extreme heat, there should be something."
They'd found traces of other casualties. Dental fragments, bone chips, material remnants. But from the area where witnesses reported The Collector's last position? Nothing.
"Maybe he wasn't as close to the center as the kid thought. Trauma can distort perception of events."
"Maybe."
But the coordinator's instincts said otherwise. In twenty years of search and rescue, he'd learned to trust his gut. And his gut said something was wrong with this picture.
"Keep searching," he ordered. "I want every square meter of the central zone examined. If he's in there, we find him. If he's not..." He trailed off.
If The Collector wasn't in the rubble, he was still alive. Which meant he'd escaped somehow. Which meant the threat wasn't over.
The coordinator pulled out his phone and called the Hero Commission hotline.
"This is Search Coordinator Tanaka. I need to speak to someone about the facility collapse case. Priority level."
A pause. Then: "Connecting you now."
While he waited, Tanaka watched his teams work. They were very thorough with the search. If there was evidence to find, they'd find it.
But sometimes the absence of evidence was its own kind of answer.
In UA high, something else was going down.
The common room was empty when Ryuu returned to the dorms. Everyone else was in class or training. He had the space to himself.
He sat on one of the couches and pulled out his phone. The news article was still trending. Comments sections filled with speculation and sympathy.
*"That poor student. Can you imagine watching your father die?"*
*"Kenji Yamamoto is a true hero. Gave everything to protect his son."*
*"I hope they find The Collector's body. Need confirmation that bastard is really dead."*
Ryuu closed the browser. Couldn't read anymore.
His contacts list stared back at him. The therapist's card was in his pocket. He should call. Make an appointment. Take the first step toward whatever "healing" looked like.
Instead, he opened his messages. Scrolled through the unread ones.
Most were from classmates. Expressions of support. Offers to hang out. Ochaco had sent: *I made extra mochi. Want some? No pressure, just if you're hungry.*
[Tsuyu]: My family says we're here if you need anything, ribbit. They've been through loss too.
[Jirou]: No words for this shit. But I'm around if you want company. Or music. Or silence.
Midoriya had written an entire paragraph about understanding trauma and processing grief and being available anytime, day or night.
Even Bakugo had sent something: Stop moping and eat something, dumbass. You're no good to anyone if you starve.
Ryuu responded to a few with simple "thank you" messages. Didn't have energy for more than that.
Bzzt! Bzzt!
His phone buzzed, it had Mina's name its screen.
"Hey," he answered.
"Hey yourself. How'd it go with Aizawa?"
"Fine. He told me about the memorial service. Saturday at two—."
"We'll be there." Mina interrupted. "Momo and I already cleared it with our families."
"You don't have to—"
"Ryuu. Stop. We're going. End of discussion." Her tone softened. "How are you feeling? Really?"
"Hollow."
"Yeah. I figured." Then came a pause from her end. "Classes end in an hour. We'll bring dinner to your room. Tsuyu and Ochaco want to stop by too, if that's okay. Just to check on you."
The thought of more people, more sympathy, more concern made his skin crawl. But these were his friends. They cared.
"Okay."
"You sure? If it's too much—"
"It's fine. Just... don't expect me to be good company."
"Heh, we never do," Mina chuckled at the other end. "See you soon."
They hung up. Ryuu leaned back into the couch and closed his eyes.
'An hour huh.' He had an hour of silence before people showed up with their care and concern and expectations that he be something other than a hollow shell.
One hour to just exist without pretending.
He took it.
He slumped back against the cold leather of the chair, while staring at the ceiling for a while.
The silence in the room was heavy. Too heavy.
My gaze drifted toward the shelf. The plastic wrapping on the titles released last month was still unbroken.
'I guess I can try out the new games that came out last month to lighten up my mood.'
He reached out and grabbed the controller.
The console hummed to life.
1 hour later. Ryuu's room.
Knock! Knock!
A sharp knock echoed through the room. Ryuu started to stand, but the door handle already turned.
Wisss
The door swung open. "We're here!" Mina stood there with a wide grin. True to her promise, Momo, Ochaco, and Tsuyu were trailing right behind her.
They weren't empty-handed. Several large bags dangled from their arms. The logos of a nearby restaurant were printed on the sides in bright red ink.
Almost instantly, the usual bland scent of the cafeteria was wiped away from Ryuu's system. Now a rich, savory aroma drifted through the air. It reached every corner of the space.
The girls stepped inside. They set the heavy bags down on the desk with a satisfying thud.
"We come bearing actual cuisine," Ochaco announced. She began pulling plastic containers out of the bags. "Katsudon from that place near the station. And it's still steaming."
"Calling it comfort food seemed appropriate, ribbit," Tsuyu added.
They spread the food out across the desk, converting the study area into an impromptu buffet. Ryuu sat on the edge of his bed. The others claimed spots on the floor, leaning their backs against the walls and the footboard.
For a long time, the only sound was the clatter of plastic utensils and the opening of soda cans. They ate in a heavy silence.
Ochaco set her empty bowl aside first. She looked at her lap, picking at a loose thread on her sleeve.
"I don't know what to say. Everything sounds either too much or not enough."
Ryuu poked at a piece of pork left in his container. "You don't have to say anything."
"But I want to. I want to..." She gripped her knees, her face tight with frustration. "I want to help. And I don't know how."
"Being here helps."
Ryuu looked up, meeting her eyes.
"Just... this is enough."
Tsuyu leaned forward. She reached over and squeezed his hand for a brief second before pulling back.
"We're not going anywhere."
Momo stood up. She gathered the empty containers, stacking them neatly to save space. She walked to the small trash bin near the door and disposed of the waste.
When she finished, she didn't return to the floor. She sat on the bed beside Ryuu.
"The memorial service," she said. Her voice was low and careful. "Do you know what to expect?"
"Aizawa sensei gave me the basics. It will be semi-public. Both Heroes and officials are invited. My mom is giving a eulogy."
Ryuu felt his throat tighten. He swallowed hard before continuing.
"And he said I don't have to speak if I don't want to."
"Do you want to?" Momo's concern voice echoes in his head for while.
"I don't know. What would I even say? 'Thanks for dying for me, Dad. Sorry I didn't know you well enough to properly grieve'?"
Momo shook her head.
"That's not fair to yourself. You knew him enough to feel his loss. That's what matters."
Ochaco shifted her position on the floor, crossing her legs. "My family... we're not great with formal grief stuff. When my grandpa died, we just sat around telling stories about him. It made it feel less like an ending and more like remembering the good parts."
"But...I don't have enough good memories to fill a memorial," Ryuu admitted. "Years of absence doesn't leave much to work with."
"Then remember the last two days," Tsuyu suggested. "He came back. He saved you. He made sure you survived, ribbit."
Ryuu leaned his head against the wall behind his bed.
"I just want it to be over. The memorial, the grief, the questions. I want to wake up and have this all be in the past."
Mina reached out, resting her hand on the edge of the mattress.
"That's normal. Wanting to skip to the part where it hurts less. But we have to go through it to get there."
"I hate that."
"Yeah. Me too."
Mina pulled her phone out of her pocket and swiped through her gallery.
"Look at this. Kaminari tried to do that trick with the balanced pens during English today. Present Mic caught him immediately."
She held the phone out so Ryuu could see the blurry photo of Kaminari looking terrified while holding six pens.
Ochaco leaned in to see the screen. "He ended up having to write lines for the rest of the period. His hand was cramping by the time the bell rang."
"And did you see the video Tsuyu's siblings sent?" Mina scrolled further. "It's their youngest trying to mimic Tsuyu's wall-climbing."
Tsuyu took her own phone out to play the video. It showed a small child trying to stick to a hallway wall and sliding down onto a pile of pillows.
"He does that every time I call home," Tsuyu explained.
Ryuu watched the small screen. For the next hour, they didn't mention the memorial again.
They talked about the homework Ryuu had missed. Ochaco stood up and demonstrated a new gravity-shifting stance she had practiced, nearly knocking over a lamp in the process.
They stayed until the clock on the wall neared ten.
Ochaco and Tsuyu stood up first, stretching their limbs.
"We should head back before Iida starts patrolling the halls for curfew," Ochaco said.
They walked to the door. Mina and Momo remained where they were.
"See you tomorrow, Ryuu," Tsuyu said, giving a small wave.
*Click*
The door clicked shut behind them. Ryuu let out a breath he had been holding. He felt burdened somehow by their visit...it felt weirdly comfortable.
Around midnight Ryuu couldn't really sleep well even with the aid of his medications. Mina slept on his left, Momo on his right. Their steady breathing should have been soothing.
Instead, his mind raced.
Saturday. It was only two days away. A memorial service for a man who had been a ghost for most of his childhood years and a father for only two days.
'What am I even supposed to say?' He stared at the dark ceiling, his eyes tracing the faint patterns in the plaster.
'"Here lies the man I just met. Thank you for saving my life and leaving me again."'
He winced at his own bitterness. He reached out, his hand hovering over the phone on the nightstand. The screen flickered to life.
2:47 AM.
'I should sleep. The meds are supposed to make this easier.'
He closed his eyes, trying to force his heart rate to slow. But It didn't work. The moment his vision went black, the sounds returned.
He heard the roar of the collapsing buildings.
And most of all, he felt the exact second the connection in his chest snapped.
His Resonance was quiet now. Recovery Girl had forbidden him from using it, but it was still there. He could feel the warmth of it nestled behind his ribs. It felt like a live wire, waiting for a current.
'If I connect again... will it just happen again? Is every connection just a countdown to that feeling of being ripped in half?'
The questions didn't have answers. They only spiraled, tighter and tighter, until the edges of his vision blurred with exhaustion.
Around four AM, his body finally gave up.
He drifted into a shallow, fitful sleep. Dreams of gray rubble and violet eyes. Eyes that looked exactly like his own, haunted the back of his eyelids.
"He—"
A soft touch on his shoulder pulled him back to reality. Sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a pale yellow glow over the bed.
"Hey."
Mina's voice was a whisper, barely louder than the morning breeze. She was propped up on one elbow, looking down at him.
"It's Friday."
Ryuu didn't move. He stared at the wall, the weight of the upcoming days settling on his chest like lead.
His head was slow to even bring up a response due to lack of sleep.
He gripped the edge of the blanket and pulled it up, covering his face entirely. He wanted to disappear into the dark space beneath the fabric. 'Just let me stay here. Let Saturday never come.'
Mina didn't pull the covers back. She didn't tell him to get up or be brave. She simply moved closer, resting her head against his covered shoulder through the duvet.
"Ryuu?"
Her voice was muffled by the blanket.
"I'm still under here," he muttered, his voice thick.
"I know. I'm not going to make you come out." She shifted, settling back into the pillows but keeping her weight against him so he could feel she was there.
"But when you do decide to peek out... I've got your favorite juice in the mini-fridge. And Momo is already making tea."
Ryuu squeezed his eyes shut in the darkness of his blanket cocoon.
"Thanks, Mina."
"Don't thank me. Just breathe."