Chapter 17: Murphy's Law
Saturday, September 15th
7:27 am
Inko Midoriya slid her key into the lock of Musutafu Public Library and jiggled. After a short battle, the door clicked free and she pushed inside, stomping her feet against the chill.
It was an average Saturday for her. But that was okay, Inko was partial to working weekends.
While most of her colleagues still had young children in school, the forty-one year old was a bit of an empty nester. It wouldn't be fair for her to take the parent-friendly shifts when Izuku was living on UA's campus. Besides, this way, other businesses were open during her free time and she could complete her work week in three days instead of five.
Removing lemon-colored mittens and a light chevron patterned scarf, Inko relocked the door behind her.
The library didn't open for another thirty minutes, so it wouldn't do to have strangers wander in. The computers and lights still had to be turned on, go-backs needed returning and it was vital she sign-in to her own station before she could even think about opening the doors to the public.
About three-quarters of the way through her morning routine, a feather-light sound whispered several aisles away and Inko froze, the book in her hand hovering just outside a gap in the biographies section.
Shhhrrrf-le. Shwiish.
There it was again.
Something was moving.
The librarian shook slightly and slid her free hand into a pocket, wrapping pudgy fingers around her cell phone.
Should she call one-one-zero?
As the only one here it was her job to investigate; but the thought terrified her.
Listening hard and finger hovering over the dial button, the skittish woman finished all the close-by returns (nonchalantly avoiding the ones in the kid's fiction section where the strange sound originated). Through it all, things stayed quiet. Nothing moved; nothing attacked.
Maybe she was just being paranoid.
With all the things happening at UA she hadn't gotten much sleep lately and had been almost constantly on edge. If she called the police for something that turned out to be a rodent problem Inko was sure to be reprimanded.
Taking a steadying breath, she closed her phone, mentally preparing to finish the library's opening procedures without the police on speed-dial.
Saturday, September 15th
8:22 am
The library had been open for nearly a half hour now and several people had already started to trickle in. Things had been calm, with nothing too out of the ordinary. Well, other than the fact that the sweet, red-headed foreigner from yesterday was back.
Inko hadn't seen the girl come in, but she'd been a bit preoccupied calling clients about late fees. Resolved to try and pay closer attention, the librarian offered a friendly wave and a smile when the front doors rattled and a thin man with eye-stalks shuffled into the building.
Knowing Nakamura-san would be fine on his own—he was a regular, after all—Inko went back to typing up this week's newsletter. He was probably just here to pick up a couple books for his family's Sunday Story Time and would most likely just head straight to—.
Inko stiffened, a slight sweat building in her armpits as she glanced toward the children's section.
Maybe she should return those go-backs before he got over there.
Just in case.
Lurching to her feet, the mother squared her shoulders and started off, a scattering of thin, brightly colored books forgotten on the wheeled cart behind her.
As she weaved around shelves, Inko thoroughly inspected them for "rodents", only sighing in relief when the area appeared empty. Satisfied enough to head back to her desk, she pivoted on a heel and immediately lost momentum, eyebrows drawing together in confusion.
Had someone left one of the nook pillows out?
Despite aging joints, Inko got down on her knees and reached under a shelf, groping for the throw.
Except wait. The library didn't own anything purple. And the fabric beneath her fingers was too silky.
Inko's trembling hand dragged out from under the shelf in slow motion.
…A sleeping bag?
Flinching and going deathly white, the plump woman shoved it right back where it came from.
Saturday, September 15th
8:31 am
Anan Kurose, better known by her hero name, Thirteen, pushed open the entrance to UA's support department building. Stepping to the side, she flattened the front of her puffy, astronaut-inspired suit and let the school's nurse, Chiyo Shuzenji, pass.
It was rare for Kocho-san to request Thirteen come in on a day off; so whatever Maijima-kun had cooking just down the hall had to be something very special. And very dangerous, if it required Black Hole on standby.
Releasing the door, she gestured for Recovery Girl to take point. The grandma's short legs shambled forward and Thirteen kept pace, gaze drifting over several overly shiny splotches on the silver wall to their right.
A prime example of spot-check cleaning if she'd ever seen one.
As they came up on Power Loader's personal workshop, two students sporting earplugs and goggles stepped out from a room opposite. The thick steel that shut behind them cut off the rhythmic ting of a hammer on metal and the rat-a-tat-tat of slapping pistons.
"Don't worry about the noise, we'll set you up with proper PPE tomorrow," the taller blonde reassured, tossing a set of thickly curled locks over a shoulder. With a wink, her hand lifted to heavily painted lips and she stage-whispered past the back of it, "We even have a special suit in the works for that tail of yours! Can't have you catching your fur in any gears; the paperwork would be abysmal!"
The girl's follow-up chortle came out more gender-bent-Santa than anything natural, leaving Thirteen glad for the dark tint of her space helmet.
Don't get her wrong. Anan cared about every UA student equally. But some of them were more obnoxious than others and she'd had over two years to get acquainted with that particular laugh.
Lacking a convenient way to hide a grimace, the girl's companion just gauchely rubbed his neck in response, mouth pulled into an obviously fake smile.
Shuzenji suddenly stopped just shy of Power Loader's workshop and Anan almost tripped over her. Turning an unbalanced sidestep into an awkward lean, the disaster specialist reached past the healer and rang the room's doorbell.
As they waited, the boy shifted under Recovery Girl's sharp, beady-eyed stare. Thirteen raised a brow, but quickly lost interest when a buzzer sounded. Lunging to get the door before it could relock, the spry female held it ajar and waited patiently for Chiyo to shuffle through on her syringe-like cane. Just before all outside sound went dead, a small, explosive breath released behind them, quirking the grandma's slight lips.
"Kurose-san! Shuzenji-sama! Perfect timing!"
The shout had come from a sheet-metal table toward the center-right of the room. Maijima fiddled with something on the other side of it, peeks of electric green gleaming through gaps between his, for once, fully covered fingers. When their brick-red, alloy-coated tips moved to pull a fine wire mesh away from the thing he held, Anan finally caught a glimpse of it.
...A soup container?
Curious.
"I'm just about ready to turn this guy on." Skirting the work island, Maijima strode toward the back of the room with a slight spring in his step, passing shelves lined with shamrock-green bins and a wall-mounted board filled by hanging shop tools. Making his way to a caution-striped door, he grabbed a half-meter tall robot off another shelving unit and pushed through the entry.
A gurney soon appeared from the gloom, kicked out by a grey boot.
Thirteen moved closer, peering inside to find Maijima setting both the droid and the luminescent thermos down in a two by three meter room. The kitchenware's eerie, consistent glow revealed scorch marks and pooling shadows on every surface, belying dents in the high-carbon steel.
"What do you need me to do?"
"Just wait on standby for now. I want to make sure this thing's harmless before I extract the ectoplasm. It has an easily accessible fuel canister, so I'm hoping to prioritize disassembling it over the belt." Power Loader stepped out, flicking the switch for a repulsion field as he went.
As the walls of the lead-insulated room took on a light hummm, the man reached over, snagging a black gauntlet with silver wire running down each finger off the robot shelf. Switching his left work glove for the unconventional controller, he did a succession of hand symbols that lit the palm cobalt.
The support department head then ushered his audience to the far side of the room, herding them over to a sleeping computer. Quickly waking the dual monitors, he used his right hand to log in and open a program on the desktop, while his other stayed closed in a loose fist tucked by his chest. When the program loaded, it expanded to reveal a plethora of camera angles recording inside the safe room.
"When I count down to zero, I want you primed to activate your quirk, Kurose-san! Don't do it yet. Just have it ready in case things go sour. I'm fairly certain the interior lining of reflective lenses means that the thermos is meant to project something. But whether it's a weapon or a holographic device, I have no idea." The thread of excitement and wonder in the mechanic's rough voice surprised Thirteen; but then again, it was fairly typical of him to reverse-engineer most new toys in a matter of hours.
These ectoplasmic inventions were really something to keep his mind so stimulated. And as much as Anan hated the circumstances, it was good to see her friend's old spark.
Power Loader started the countdown, working his way back from ten as his front two fingers mimed walking. The droid—that looked like a miniature, highly dexterous version of the school's battle-bots—sprang to life on the first monitor, trundling closer to the thermos on caterpillar tracks. Using more fancy hand signs, Maijima instructed the mechanical golem to pick up the thermos and aim it at the building's exterior wall.
In response, Anan pointed her own index finger (the tip of its glove popped open in preparation) toward the room, waiting with braced feet as the countdown reached zero.
At the final, binary call of its ancestors, the droid pressed a lime-colored button.
Nothing happened.
"Maybe you need to take off the lid?"
The wry words near Anan's feet cause her to flinch. She'd forgotten Chiyo was there.
By the time her eyes flicked back up, the cap was already gone and the robot had pressed the button again, causing a fluorescent beam to flood the test chamber. Shoulders dipping in surprised relief, Thirteen spared a chuckle for Maijima's frozen state beside her and teased, "Quite an impressive flashlight."
After a solid ten seconds, the man's Tonka-Truck-meets-T-rex headgear finally moved, cocking slightly as Maijima held and depressed the button several more times. When this just caused a strobe of brilliant blue flashes, he turned the robot around, making it point the open thermos at itself before trying one more time. Its metallic, cylindrical face lit from below like a camp counselor telling spooky stories; but otherwise, nothing changed.
"I don't think you're dealing with a weapon there, Maijima-kun," Chiyo commented, the extra skin around her eyes stretching tight as her brows hitched up. "Unless it's a weapon that only works on living things; I think you're fine to take it apart."
Anan snapped her finger cover closed and relaxed her stance as Maijima pulled the camera footage over to his second monitor and opened a new program on the first. Checking the logged output from the beam, he sighed, the set of his shoulders and the tightness of his mouth telling Anan he was feeling a bit derisive.
The mechanic then directed his robot to grab a panel on the side of the thermos, popping it off with as much efficiency as he would a battery cover on a tv remote.
Just how many hours had her friend been working on this? For that matter….how much sleep was he getting? Was he even taking care of himself?
Nonchalantly removing her helmet and placing it on the desk beside her, she studied Power Loader as he extracted the ecto-cartridge. The thin man was even more gaunt than normal, each rib clearly visible beneath his tight, black shirt. As he finished checking another reading and walked past her to the safe room, she took a covert sniff of the air and frowned.
Intense motor grease and diesel.
That wasn't good.
Maijima was normally vehement about showering daily and heavily encouraged it around the development studio. (To the point that he even managed to harass his prized student—the pink terror—into making an effort to this year.)
Thirteen looked down at Shuzenji, ready to bring up her concerns when she found the older woman already staring back like "it took you long enough".
The school nurse—doctor—slightly inclined her head, carnation-colored headgear bobbing with the motion. Readjusting it, she called, "Maijima-kun, Dear, you're due for a check-up."
"What? No! I'm doing fine!" the haggard man replied, quickly flicking off the containment field and diving inside the safe room as if that would protect him from the elderly woman outside. "I ate breakfast! I swear! Kenranzaki-san brought it to me."
Considering they'd just seen Kenranzaki in the halls and it was morning right now, it was possible he was telling the truth. But somehow, Anan didn't think so. "What's today?"
"What's that supposed to mean?!" Maijima griped, stalking out of the small space and bringing his prize over to an industrial 3D printer. Opening the case and yanking out what looked to be a miniature Eiffel Tower, he grabbed a metal file and started removing burs. To the untrained eye, his quick, precise movements may have supported the "insulted" claim his voice was trying to make; but to Thirteen, who'd known him forever, they told a different story.
He was scared, anxious. Didn't want to be taken off the project, even temporarily.
"What's today?" she repeated.
Maijima busied himself with scurrying to another desk, quickly threading several thick wires up his lattice structure before hedging, "...It's after Thursday."
"Okay. That's enough. You need a break, Higari-kun," Thirteen stressed, taking a step toward the man who instantly tensed, gathering the wired tower into his left arm and holding it in front of him like a shield. His other hand dropped behind him, guarding its glowing green cartridge as if the two women had plans to take it. Which, fair.
"You need sleep. Food. A shower."
The man's mecha-helmet tilted down and Anan knew he'd just done a sniff check.
"Just a bit longer," Maijima pleaded, his voice not quite a whine, but close. "I think it'll work this time, now that I have direct access to the ectoplasmic molecules. I think if I can overcome the electrostatic barrier I can figure out their exact ionic charge."
"How long?"
"Just ten more minutes. Please. If I'm right, I can get the tracker up and running."
Saturday, September 15th
8:35 am
Okay, okay. So there was a sleeping bag hidden over by the children's section. There were lots of normal, rational reasons someone could have left it there. Maybe a kid just wanted to get more cozy in the reading nooks. Or it was part of some old sleepover event Inko forgot existed. Even if it was someone breaking in at night, they might just be a homeless person trying to sleep in a heated building.
She hadn't seen anyone this morning, but it could be a more recent thing. Or they were so good at vanishing by the time the library opened that hearing them had been a fluke. They hadn't left a mess, whoever they were.
It wasn't necessarily someone watching Inko's workplace, trying to figure out her day-to-day patterns.
The internal dialogue did little to quell a sinking feeling as Inko compulsively rubbed her hand against a yellow skirt.
During all the recent invasions of Izuku's school, portal quirks had been the main form of villain transport and more than a few of the attacks had involved preemptive stake-outs.
Feeling the sharp, burning heat of an anxiety cramp ripple up her belly, the greenette took a deep breath in. She needed to finish answering this email, not get herself worked up.
The woman got as far as Let me check and see if we have that book in stock, before her brain shocked her with an idea so sudden it felt like static.
What if the person never left? They might be here. Right now. Watching.
Dark eyes zipped up and scanned the library's inhabitants.
Nakamura, Takahashi, Suzuki and three strangers. Well, two. Jazz-san wasn't exactly an unknown. And it was doubtful that an American tourist had ties to a local terrorist group.
Switching her attention over to the new pair, Inko studied them. Two girls. Early twenties. The first was tall and slender, the fabric of her zip-up hoodie loose and ragged over toned muscles. Hair tied up in a messy bun, she glared daggers at the textbook propped in her lap from behind puffy eyes. The second girl was shorter than the first and fared much better. Her skin was clean and healthy and her collared shirt and capris were wrinkle-free. Green eyes referenced a notebook as the curvy girl quizzed her friend, tucking a bright blue streak behind an ear to join an otherwise chestnut head of hair.
College students, if Inko had to guess. In fact, were she a gambling woman, she'd bet that the worn girl's thermos held more than just water.
Making a mental note to check on that in a minute (coffee was a big no-no in the library), Inko pulled her gaze away. She doubted the two were stalkers. They just didn't seem the type.
This was stupid. The squatter was probably long gone.
Sighing, Inko finished her email and sent it away.
Maybe she should go check on Jazz again. The redhead was deep in some kind of research project and might have more questions.
The greenette smiled and hefted up, stepping out from behind the help desk. Circumventing one of the study tables that stood between her station and the computers, Inko idly appraised Jazz's outfit.
Without her work jacket, the foreigner looked quite cute in a lavender t-shirt and Carolina blue jeans.
Although.
Inko's eyebrows slowly creased together.
Those were the same clothes she'd had on yesterday, sans the coat. Granted, she was probably living out of a suitcase. But they were also very rumpled. Almost like she'd slept in them.
Lips tugging down to complete the frown, Inko scrutinized Jazz more closely. Her hair was definitely shinier than yesterday, more oily. And had the look of being hand-combed instead of brushed.
It was possible she was just busy, as involved with research as she was, but that just didn't sit right with Inko's instincts.
Eyes flicking over to the computer, the mother had just enough time to read "Little-Known Impacts of a Quirked Society: How Meta Abilities Redefined the Modern Building Code" before Jazz noticed her with an "Ah!".
The exclamation was enough to trigger the phone in Jazz's hand and it lit up, ready to receive input.
"Inko-san. I didn't see you there. Did you need something?"
Panicking, the librarian responded, "Oh, I was just coming to see if you needed anything." Hand gestures fluttering around like a nervous finch, she added, "You've been very focused. Like you had a project due. So I wanted to see if you needed any more help."
"Awww. That's very sweet of you. No, I'm good. Thank you for keeping an eye out for—um, watching over me." Jazz beamed back, shoulders relaxed and eyes crinkling slightly.
"Well let me know if that changes. Don't push yourself too hard."
"I won't."
Nodding acceptance with an anxious smile, Inko turned around, slinking away toward the college crammers.
Articles on building codes, history, self-repairing denim? What was Jazz-san studying, anyway? It didn't seem nefarious. Just…unrelated.
The one time the American had even asked for help, it'd been to draft a response to a classified ad.
Inko's gait faltered.
The ad had been for a tutoring position.
A job.
The sleeping bag invaded the mother's mind again and the concern that came with it had a distinctly new flavor.
Saturday, September 15th
11:15 am (AKA 6:15 pm in Switzerland)
Maddie Fenton's eyes blurred as she looked at a paper in her left hand. External Gravitational Forces and their Effect on Static Wormholes was a dry subject, made even worse by a lack of sleep. The cup of coffee in her right hand was the only thing keeping her going, its fabricated energy allowing her to push through jet-lag that wasn't likely to go away. Not when she could barely catch a wink of sleep.
All flights home on Sunday and Monday had been booked. All except for first class.
The Fentons were well off, but even she couldn't swing fifteen thousand dollars a ticket. Sam had offered to pay—despite her Platinum flier card having a deals exclusion for flights booked less than a week in advance—but Maddie couldn't accept such an expensive gift from a twenty-year-old. It wasn't right. Not when they'd be coming home on Tuesday anyway.
A sudden growl tore up Maddie's throat and she had to stop herself from tossing her mug to the floor, its brown liquid sloshing over ceramic sides as the intrusive thought almost won.
Damn the Infi-Map! Of all the times it could have decided to have issues!
Maddie sighed, putting the astrophysics article down on a mosaic-tile bartop and cupping her now-free hand under the coffee before it could drip to the floor. Walking around the kitchen peninsula to grab several paper towels, she dabbed the mug clean before placing it aside, too.
All she could do was pray that her baby girl was doing fine. That the martial arts, weapons and survival training she'd drilled into Jazz would be enough to get her by. That, and her charm bracelet. The boys had confirmed it was missing, so Jazz probably had it. Hopefully.
Maddie glanced across the room to where Adrian and her husband sat across from each other, squished into a breakfast nook's creaking, wooden chairs. The shabby-chic white paint was as worn as their faces while they traded vehement whispers, each pointing at different passages of a textbook on the little, literature-burdened table between them.
Well, nothing to do now but follow Jack's lead and double down on research. If Maddie was going to be stranded here with a theoretical physicist, she might as well absorb as much knowledge as possible.
Sudden pain stabbed behind Maddie's drooping eyes and she frowned down at the mug beside her. Picking it up, she dumped its contents down the sink.
If she retained nothing and couldn't come up with valid hypotheses, there was no point in staying up.
Squaring slight shoulders, the careworn scientist marched straight to bed.
Saturday, September 15th
11:52 am
"Are you sure you didn't get the times mixed up?"
"He'll be here."
"Okay."
"He will. He's just running late."
The Red Huntress eyed the half ghost next to her. The man faced away, too intent on searching crowds of semi-transparent people to notice her gaze.
A portcullis stood at the pair's back, large bars of black pig iron recessed into the scarlet face of a keep like decaying teeth. Towers of stone and mortar rose within the inner curtain wall, sculpted to defy physics and emphasize the structure's sharp, aggressive form.
Valerie's eyebrows knit together as she continued to study the halfa. Phantom's soft light was fluctuating worse than a pendulum and his back was ramrod straight. Wulf's arrival was important, especially after the hunt for Cujo had turned up a big fat goose egg, but Danny was hyperfixating.
"Relax, Danny. You don't have to be so stiff. I offered to babysit a ghost, not a corpse." Val gave the taller man's shoulder a light squeeze, ignoring the boy's flinch and a surprised shout from nearby. "We'll find Jazz."
"Yeah, but in how many pieces?" Danny snapped back, the muscle and bone under Valerie's hand suddenly giving way like memory foam. "And I don't need a babysitter!"
Face scrunched in disgust, Val extracted her fingers from the pliable surface and retorted, "Uh, yeah; clearly you do, if you're gonna act like a toddler."
"It's not like I'm going to spontaneously combust if you guys leave me alone," Danny huffed, turning his eyes back to the bourg. "Despite what you, Sam and Tuck seem to think."
Oh hell no. This pissy crap was not gonna fly.
Reaching out, Val snatched Danny's shoulder again; and this time, before he could soften it, she spun him around to face her.
"Danny. Look at me." Staring him dead in the eye and pulling on her exceptionally good memory, the hunter paraphrased, "An obsession is a ghost's greatest weakness. It can make you counterintuitive and single-minded. But it's also your strength. The people you care about love you back and will be your pillars when you can't stand alone."
Danny's face twisted into greater agitation. "That's not fair."
"Life's not fair. Get over it."
"Can't I at least have a half-pass, then? Since I'm only half alive?" Danny quipped, the bite to his words more of a nibble.
"Sorry, but if anything your double-life ups the ante."
"Figures."
Danny looked up, blowing wispy bangs (that had chosen that moment to embrace gravity) out of his eyes as three tears opened in the world in front of him, spilling green light like entrails from a wound.
"Mi pardonpetas pro malfruo," [My apologies for being late,] a husky voice growled through the air, preceding a hulking figure of sleek, black fur. Nails clicking on the hard stone beneath his paws, the wolfman stalked out of the bridge between realities like a predator ghosting amongst trees. Until a second later, when his eyes met Phantom's intense ones and immediately deflected away. Ears swiveling back, he offered, "Miaj ungegoj ŝajnigas obtuzecon. Ili ne Disŝiras kiel ili devus hodiaŭ." [My claws feign dullness. They do not Rend as they should today.]
"Viaj potencoj ankaŭ agas?" [Your powers are acting up too?] Dismay tinged Danny's soft words and his arms crossed, right hand flexing tight over the black fabric coating his bicep. Soon after, the halfa's feet lifted from the ground and the air in front of his mouth started to fog in little puffs. Lips turning down, he glanced at his breath, then over at Wulf whose claws elongated and retracted at the beast's sides.
Danny's face morphed into "oh crap" mode a split second before fire erupted up his suit like tinder, the green licks of flame so intense Valerie had to take a step back.
"Uh, Danny, you good?"
The huntress never got an answer as her own suit contorted, taking her with it to avoid an ectoblast that seared the black gate behind where she'd just been.
"Who the hell?!" Valerie shouted, jumping into the air and smacking her heels together to form her hoverboard. Instantly turning back toward the marketplace behind them, she surveyed the frozen crowd where the blast had originated.
There was only a heartbeat of quiet before pandemonium erupted. Ghosts fled and tore away from somewhere in the main throng, pushing and shoving each other in their panic. Only a few turned incorporeal to escape.
Val assumed at first it was because they were smart, but maybe they were just lucky.
Ghost rays and blasts of all kinds exploded from everywhere in the mob, seemingly at random. Then the waves of specters thinned enough for the huntress to catch a glimpse of the town square some hundred feet away. She could just make out several ghosts slowing as if flying through syrup before hardening into stone. Behind them, a series of statues already peppered the piazza in similar, terrified poses.
Valerie got all of two feet closer to the fight before Phantom snagged her around the waist.
"NO! Val, you can't!"
"The hell I can't!" White-hot rage burned through the full human as she tried to break away, but Danny's arms were a band of steel.
"It's a gorgon. The ghosts will thaw. Eventually. We won't. We have to let the guards handle this one."
Valerie whipped her head around, ready to tear Danny a new one when she saw his face. Then noticed the trembling of restraint in his own muscles.
Letting loose a gryphon-esque cry, she dropped her shoulders to let her friend know she understood.
He didn't release her, tugging toward the portcullis instead. That is, until he dropped like a stone, deadweighting against Valerie's back and instantly pulling a muscle near her spine.
It was the hoverboard that saved them both from a several yard fall, banking sharply as its rider lurched backward, keeping the spasming woman straight and her feet stuck fast.
Rebalancing, Valerie peeked down at Wulf. The friendly lupine shuddered in place, his own aura flaring and shifting the light around him.
It seemed her suit's tech was somehow impervious to whatever was afflicting the natural ghosts. Getting them all to safety was going to have to be up to her.
Telepathically redirecting her ride, Valerie dipped closer to the ground. Taking the hint, Wulf leapt up, grabbing the board to either side of her feet and hanging on like some giant, fuzzy ornament.
They crested the wall and the rope-like grip around her middle slackened, sliding low on her hips and prompting Valerie to glance back. Locking eyes with her now oozy-sweater-belt of a friend, her features lit in a savage grin. "I don't need a babysitter, he says. I won't spontaneously combust, he says."
Danny's semi-garbled, "Quiet, you," had her laughing so deep her hoverboard swayed to keep them upright as the cavernous mouth of the keep swallowed them whole.
Saturday, September 15th
12:01 pm
Writing down an address and phone number on a piece of paper to join three others, Jazz rubbed at her temples.
Well, that was one task done.
There'd only been a few apartments that fit her needs in this part of the city, but she was fairly confident in her choices. They were slummy enough that they'd probably rent without ID and she was pretty sure she wouldn't get murdered in her sleep. Now if only that want ad would get back to her (at her newly created email address), she'd be sitting pretty.
Getting up with a sigh, Jazz got a drink of water. Her fourth one today. She'd been trying to trick her stomach into feeling less hungry so she wouldn't need to eat as much. The charm bracelet contained several weeks worth of freeze-dried rations and Fenton Jerky, but Jazz wasn't about to take chances, refusing to eat anything so far today but the perishable rice ball.
Jazz was all about preparing for the worst case scenario. If she had to live exclusively on rations for a while, they better count.
Lips pursing and eyebrows cinching, the ginger eyed the computer.
Maybe she should make a list of back-up apartments...
As she sat back down, peripheral movement caught Jazz's attention and she glanced over a shoulder.
Inko was approaching for the second time today, skittish as a wild animal. In her hands was a small plastic box painted all black except for the single cherry blossom branch that decorated its side.
Nonchalantly switching tabs on the internet browser to a decoy Yotube video, Jazz offered a smile.
Like a sunbreak in a rainstorm, Inko returned it before her face reclouded and her dark eyes flit sideways to the red pandas dancing on the screen. "Ano, Jazz-san?" Seemingly baffled, she dropped her gaze down to the sheet of printer paper covered in Jazz's notes. "Would you like to have lunch with me?"
Hand twitching slightly, the redhead quashed an urge to cover the addresses. No need to bring extra attention to them. Besides, her Japanese penmanship should be nearly indecipherable to a native writer.
"I would love to! But I didn't bring a lunch and I don't have any money on me."
"Oh, uhm, that's okay! I'm dieting right now anyway. We can share mine!"
A quick assessment of Inko's expression told Jazz the woman was full of it, but free food was free food. Any way the dimensional castaway could stretch her rations increased her chances of survival.
"Are you sure? I feel bad mooching off you."
"Absolutely!" Inko blanched. "I mean, you aren't mooching! I'm—What I meant was—I'm absolutely sure! Please! Take some!" The older woman practically shoved the box into Jazz's hand in an attempt to correct the faux pas before slumping and blushing bright red.
Jazz couldn't help it; she laughed, the sound light and non-abrasive. "Thank you, Inko-san. You're really a wonderful person, you know that?"
The librarian turned even brighter as Jazz removed the lid of the bento box to peek inside.
"Oh, sorry!" Inko's hand shot out over the lunch as if to take it while the other pointed toward the library's side door. "I forgot to say, we can't eat inside! Only water is allowed in here so people don't ruin the books."
Standing up, Inko led the way across the library and through the glass door, Jazz trailing behind. On the other side was a little canopy sheltering an outdoor couch, coffee table and armchair. Taking up station on the chair, Inko smoothed her skirt into place and waved toward the polyester bottom of the love seat beside her.
Jazz settled nearby, unsure what to do now. "Did you want your half first?" she offered, holding out the lunch box.
"Oh, no thank you. I'm a mom. Kids always eat first," Inko replied, showing something that nearly resembled a confident grin.
"I'm twenty-three." Jazz's lips twitched up. "I'm hardly a kid." Taking off the lid and seeing that the lunch box weenies had faces and were cut to look like octopi, she added, "But I'm starting to feel like one."
Following Jazz's gaze, Inko floundered, her thumbs starting to twiddle. "Ah! Sorry! My son used to love those, so now I make them before my mind even knows what my hands are doing."
"Oh, you have a son? What's he like?"
"He's the biggest softie you've ever met. Headstrong when it comes to helping others, though."
Somehow, the tone of that last sentence came with a strange connotation. There was definitely a story there.
"Sounds like he takes after his mother."
Inko's eyes widened then shot up to search Jazz's face.
"What do you mean by that?"
"Something tells me I was going to be eating half your lunch whether I wanted to or not," Jazz responded with a chuckle.
Inko's gaze slunk away again as the woman started picking at a stick that had come apart from her wicker chair's weave.
"...It's not that I'm not proud of Izuku…" she murmured, running a pudgy finger back and forth over the stray twig like it was the most interesting thing in the world. "It's great that he loves to help people—it really is! And I want to support his dreams. But he's always in danger and I'm not sure my heart can take it."
A familiar feeling stabbed through Jazz's chest and she offered a sad smile, chopsticks slowly sinking back toward the bento where the next bite of rice lay forgotten.
"You know my brother's a hero." Eyes gentle with understanding, Jazz observed Inko's idle hands. "Seven years I've watched him run head first into unimaginable dangers, wondering, worrying, if this was the time he wouldn't make it back."
The was a moment of weighted silence, heavy and smothering, before, "He almost didn't, once."
No matter how many times she told the story, the words still stuck in Jazz's throat and the heat of tears pricked at the girl's sclera. "You know—" her voice cracked, "—I asked him to put aside heroing after that." Taking in a shaky breath, she reached the back of her hand up to rub at a runny nose. "And he did; just for me."
"Other people took over for him. He was finally safe. He hung out with his friends, got homework done on time, was able to do some much-needed networking for his job. Things were great."
"But then a villain attack happened right in front of him and there were no other—" a slight pause, "—heroes around."
"A dog slipped its leash to protect its owner. Chased after the villain." Inko's expression turned pained and she leaned forward, hanging on every word as if witnessing a car crash.
"Now if you knew Skulker, you'd know he's a real piece of work. Easily annoyed. It took all of three seconds before the blade came out."
"Danny couldn't just watch and I don't blame him. I wouldn't have been able to either. But he wasn't the same after that." Jazz lifted her head to stare directly into Inko's eyes, ignoring the older woman's quickly deflating form. "Some people can't just watch. Do you get what I'm saying?"
"But—that doesn't mean they need to go looking for danger," Inko refuted, voice small and quivering.
"In my experience, they don't get a choice. They're Murphy's favorites." Shrugging apologetically at Inko's broken expression, Jazz averted her gaze upward, studying the wooden beams that supported their small canopy. "And I, for one, would rather know my brother isn't out of practice the next time trouble finds him."
Inko's expression was lost, but there was something else there, too. Just the tiniest furrow between her pencil-thin brows and a tightness around the bridge of her nose.
"Looks like you know exactly what I'm talking about."
"Izuku's school keeps getting attacked..."
The information slotted into Jazz's mind like notched wood and with it came sudden clarity. Inko's son went to UA.
"I'm scared."
"I know." Dredging up a smile despite the pit in her stomach, Jazz continued, "But you know what I did when I realized I couldn't stop Danny? I got stronger. Learned how to fight. So the next time he was in trouble, I could do more than just watch."
"Here." Jazz held out the half-finished lunch box. "It's your turn."
Inko's disquieted expression made it obvious the woman hadn't missed the double meaning.
Hesitating only a moment, she took the bento.
Saturday, September 15th
1:17 pm
Inko wasn't sure why she'd told Jazz so many personal things. Things she'd been reluctant to voice even to close friends. There was just something about the girl. She understood. Listened. Helped even when she wasn't talking.
At first Inko had suspected it was the girl's quirk.
But then at the tail end of lunch, Jazz had casually mentioned she was quirkless and studying to be a psychiatrist.
Somehow, it didn't surprise Inko. It should have. But it didn't.
Except now she had a lot to think about.
Things she didn't want to.
She was a nervous, meek, overweight librarian and she had to fix that. Her quirk wasn't even particularly strong. How was someone like her supposed to protect anyone?
But Jazz-san was quirkless. And she kept her brother safe.
It was doable.
It had to be.
Inko walked past Jazz's workstation on her way to return a horror book. A concerned frown marred the American's face and the librarian peeked over the girl's shoulder in curiosity.
Huh.
Apparently Inko wasn't the only one who'd learned something troubling from their discussion.
The Nomu who'd attacked UA glowed brightly on Jazz's borrowed computer screen.
Saturday, September 15th
2:37 pm
Snipe glared down at the infernal device clutched in his glove. The prototype clearly wasn't working right. There'd been six pings just in the last three hours, spread out over the tracker's five hundred mile range. And of the two so called "portals" that had been close enough to check out, neither had shown hide nor hair of suspicious activity.
It was possible something big was going down. But with Maijima currently sedated in Recovery Girl's office and the machine being the first of its kind, he seriously doubted it.
Honestly, this wouldn't be so bad if he could just verify whether any of the spots had even had a portal. But the school's resident engineering genius had managed to get himself put down for a nap before he could teach anyone how to use his homemade EMF reader.
Feeling like a little fish when another chirrup sounded from his hand, Snipe ground his teeth and grabbed the bottom of his rust-red cloak. Quickly tying it around his waist, he mounted a Kawasaki motorcycle that waited just off the curb and glanced around the busy heart of Tarishu Ward. Turning on a siren and a set of flashing purple-green lights, the cowboy signaled with an arm and jumped back out into traffic, following the sonar-like screen pulsing near his handlebars.
Saturday, September 15th
2:42 pm
Three hours.
THREE FREAKING HOURS of feeling like fire ants crawled under his skin to play Ratatouille with his powers.
Danny was exhausted.
His body had put him through such a wringer it squeezed out abilities he didn't even know he had.
Turning green, Danny burped up a gas that either came from his lungs or was his lungs—he couldn't be sure; cause apparently, vaporizing was a thing for him now.
Resisting the urge to cry when the itchy burn finally stomped its way out of his muscles, Danny drug himself up into a seated position, hands acting as stabilizers on the polished marble floor. He'd been basking his overheated body on the cool, fireproof surface for the better part of twenty minutes.
At least he hadn't Wailed. Small mercies.
Forcing his gaze up, he noticed Valerie. Despite several pleas for her to get to safety, she hadn't left, even after the first time he'd Blast Burned the room like a freaking Typhlosion.
Eyes trailing over a well-barbecued area rug, a floor that looked like it had just hosted an ice hockey tournament and a string of shredded tapestries at the far side of the room, Danny finally spotted a half-caved-in door.
It led to the great hall, which, as far as Danny was aware, still held Wulf. The lupine had been much less head-strong than Valerie, turning tail the moment Danny had yelled at his friends to run.
"Is it finally over?!" Val's voice echoed from above, drawing Danny's eyes back up to the mezzanine that overlooked the ballroom.
"I think so," he responded, throat as unpleasantly scratchy and dry as sand in a beach towel.
"You okay?!"
No.
"Yeah, I'll be fine. Can you check on Wulf?"
Valerie eyed him skeptically, but still vaulted over the stone railing, her hoverboard forming beneath her feet and pulling her out the door.
Jellifying—not literally this time, thank Clockwork—over the marble again, Danny groaned and cracked his neck, eyes sliding shut of their own accord. Every muscle in his body was sore.
A rushing cascade of scratches skittered across the room and toxic green eyes popped open. Just in time to squeeze shut as a massive tongue slimed across their lids and about fifty percent of Danny's face.
Gross.
"Amiko! Ĉu vi estas bone?!" [Friend! Are you okay?!]
"Jes, mi fartas bone. Kio pri vi?" [Yeah, I'm fine. What about you?]
Danny was pretty sure he already knew the answer to that, seeing how spry Wulf's greeting had been, but he neededthe affirmation.
"Mi fartis pli bone ol vi. Vi aspektas kiel trisemajna kadavraĵo." [I fared better than you. You look like three-week old carrion.]
"Multaj dankoj." [Thanks a lot.] Danny rolled his eyes, tone dripping sarcasm even in another language. "Mi nur ŝajnigos, ke tio estas komplimento, ĉar vi tiom amas rubon." [I'll just pretend that's a compliment since you love garbage so much.]
"Tuŝi." [Touché.] Smile feral, Wulf grabbed Danny's arm and yanked the halfa to his feet.
Somehow managing only a slight stumble despite wobbly knees, Danny returned the sharp grin.
"Okay, now that we've established no one's gonna cease, what the heck was that?! I know that was more than just a ghost cold!"
Oh crap. Had he really forgotten to tell Valerie about the Ghost Zone?
Danny wracked his brain. Between Hagakure and Kamada, the portals, his parents being gone and Jazz's kidnapping….Yep. He had. Whoops.
A glowing gun slotted between his eyes with a resounding, "Spill!" and Danny threw up his hands in surrender before it lowered.
"The Ghost Zone's been acting up lately. That's why we aren't using the Infi-Map right now. And ghosts have been having it rough with power disruption, too; so they're probably related. Frostbite seems to think there's an outside factor causing it but with Jazz missing I haven't had a chance to look for the source."
"So let me get this straight. The Zone's been having problems. You have a lead to fix it…and you prioritized Jazz?"
She was seriously about to lecture him?
"Yeah, I did." Entire body shaking with what was equal parts rage and muscle weakness, Danny lifted a finger and shoved it against Valerie's chest. "You got a problem with that?! You aren't the only one who's allowed to be selfish sometimes!"
Instead of taking the bait for a fight, Valerie leveled Danny's glare with an "are you serious right now?" look and swatted the offending hand away.
"You just said the Infi-Map's not working. And neither are ghost powers." Valerie's tone was just shy of condescending. "And yet somehow, to you, that equals 'don't fix the thing causing them not to work'."
"Hey, I'm not stupid!" Danny growled with as much energy as he could muster before throwing a hand toward the wolfman next to him. "It's not like I knew for sure that Wulf was affected. Besides. We're in the Infinite Realms. Do you have any idea how long it could take me to track down some omnipresent radio signal?"
Valerie sighed, rubbing her temples like she was dealing with a tantruming puppy which prompted another spike of irritation to stab at Danny's core. "At least tell me that there's something salvageable in this mess."
"The power disruption has only been intermittent," Danny defended. "And this is the first time it's lasted this long!"
"Okay, fine. How long was the last bad episode?"
"Maybe ten minutes? Tops," Danny answered suspiciously.
"When?"
"Thursday." (He didn't like where this conversation was headed.) "...Why?"
"It sounds like it's getting worse as time goes on. And more frequent."
Yeah. He really didn't like where this was going.
"If you're gonna fix things, it's gotta be soon, Danny. As much as I love Jazz, this may have to come first."
Danny nearly hissed like an irate blob ghost, anger swirling through him as he spit, "I will not give up on Jazz!"
How could she even suggest that?!
"I didn't say you should. Just that you can't avoid one problem because another one cropped up."
"I'm not!" Danny screeched, the room growing cold around them. Only this time, it was all him.
A pressure on his shoulder had Danny swinging around aggressively, vibrant eyes quickly boring into Wulf's softer green. The furred man looked back apprehensively, ears folded and a light whine escaping his throat.
"Amiko, eble ni devus trakti kial vi serĉis min? Vi scias, ke mi helpos kiel ajn mi povas." [Friend, perhaps we should address why you sought me out? You know I will help any way I can.]
Uuuugh.
He hated this. Why did he always have to set an example?
Drawing his feelings back in, Danny firmly latched them away.
Being an adult sucked.
Letting out an explosive breath, he explained, "Mi ne certas kiom da tio vi ricevis, sed Jazz mankas. Ŝi estis kidnapita de portalo." [I'm not sure how much of that you got, but Jazz is missing. She was kidnapped by a portal.] Wulf stiffened and the grip on Danny's shoulder tightened significantly."Mi demandis vin ĉi tie antaŭe por vidi ĉu vi povus trovi la hejman dimension de Hagakure kaj Kamada kaj malfermi portalon por resendi ilin; sed nun mi ankaŭ bezonas helpon por trovi Jazz." [I asked you here before to see if you could find Hagakure and Kamada's home dimension and open a portal to send them back; but now I need help finding Jazz, too.]
"Ĉu vi portas personan kvaliton?" [Do you carry a personal quality?]
"Uhhh…"
Personal quality? What was that supposed to mean?
Danny could feel a headache coming on from all the Esperanto; but after a moment the lightbulb finally went on. "Oh, wait. Yeah, we do. Val?"
"What?" she barked.
Right. She never learned the "nerd" language.
"We need the headband and stuff."
"Oh." Valerie didn't quite look sheepish—it wasn't her nature, after all—but her shoulders did hunch slightly as she tugged off her Red Huntress backpack and rooted around inside. Slipping out a teal cloth, a tiny braid of lemon-yellow hair and another of grizzle-grey, the feisty woman passed the items off to Danny.
Who handed the first to Wulf when the anthromorph's meaty paw slid off his shoulder to rest expectantly in the air nearby.
Without retracting it, Wulf commented, "Trovi vian idanon prenos pli da tempo." [Finding your littermate will take more time.]
Reluctantly, Danny dropped the rings of hair into the waiting palm as well, the scraggly weaves partially obscuring his sister's headband.
Delicately pinching the grey lock up and holding it to his snout, Wulf inhaled several short, wet wuffs. Putting it back down, he did the same to the blonde one. Then sniffed the air again, free of opposing scents.
Danny watched Wulf closely, trying to discern something, anything. But it was futile. What crept behind those solid green eyes was not human.
Then Wulf picked up Jazz's headband for inspection and Danny's soul sank.
"Mi ne povas helpi ĉi tiujn infanojn. Ilia regno estas tro malproksima." [I cannot help these. Their realm is too far.]
"What do you mean, too far?" Danny retorted, dropping back into English in frustration.
Valerie eyed them both, clearly still annoyed with Danny. "Correct me if I'm wrong," she snarked, "but 'too far' is the opposite of 'close enough'. Which means we probably have to get near the right doors in the Zone to pick up any scents, Genius."
As Danny opened his mouth to respond, Wulf cut in, a slight warning edge to his tone, "Ne. Malĝusta. Ili venas de…" [No. Incorrect. They come from…] A rumbling grated deep in the ghost's chest. "Ne apuda. Malproksime." [Not adjacent. Far.]
"Odoro funkcias strange en la Senfinaj Regnoj. Mi ne havas vortojn por klarigi; ĝi estas sciado." [Scent works strangely in the Infinite Realms. I have no words to explain; it is a knowing.] Locking apologetic eyes on Danny, he slashed the air beside him and gestured toward the forming portal.
Inside, a young boy—the dude couldn't be more than ten—lay on a bed, idly tossing and catching a white ball covered in stitches. A pink cap rested on the headboard behind the brunet and a worn mitt covered his left hand, completing the kid's "little league" ensemble.
Danny found himself blinking in surprise when eerily familiar—though he was sure he'd never seen them before—blue eyes turned his way. But rather than freak out as the half-ghost expected, the buck-toothed boy shouted "Danny?!", tone mischievously delighted.
"It can't be," a shrill voice echoed in shock from somewhere Danny couldn't pin-point. That is, until two miniature humans—with garishly bright hair, holy Hades—"poofed" into the air next to him. "Jorgen closed all travel to the Zone after we—"
The scratches vanished, taking their peek of the other world with them.
What the heck was that?
You know what. Nope. He was not unpacking that right now. There were already enough questions in his life he didn't have answers to, and that seemed benign enough, whatever it was.
Offering a quick shake of the head to Val's quizzical expression, Danny's eyes traced back to Wulf and the lupine spoke again, "Viaj odoroj venas de la Malproksimo. Mi povas nur Disŝiri la Proksime. Sferoj kiuj limas niajn."[Your scents come from the Far. I can only Rend the Near. Realms that border our own.]
Understanding finally clicked into place, and Danny deflated.
But before his gaze could fully drop in defeat, the Ghost Zone resident shook all over as if dispelling a phantom water from his coat. "Ne ĉio estas malbona novaĵo." [It is not all bad news.] Flashing a tongue-lolling grin, he added, "Mi scias pri iu, kiu povas paroli al la Malproksimo." [I know of someone who can speak to the Far.]
Saturday, September 15th
5:23 pm
It was seven minutes until closing and only two humans remained in the library.
One was gone from sight, quiet and hidden away in a reading nook. The other had just finished vacuuming and was currently winding up the grumbly machine's cord.
Eyes fixed downward, the mousy woman stayed overly focused on the task at hand. In fact, as she finished closing procedures, she rarely looked up (and never in the direction of the children's section). Not until she was outside the building, locking the door behind her.
Saturday, September 15th
10:23 pm
Jazz turned over in her sleeping bag, unable to get comfortable. She felt like the princess and the pea, irritated by even the slightest wrinkle in the silk lining beneath her.
How had Lunch Lady, of all ghosts, ended up here?
She was no Fright Night; but Lunch Lady, really?! Talk about a bad match-up for this world.
When had Danny even gone near her? She'd been living exclusively in the Zone for the better part of a year.
Did that mean not all of his portals had a distance limit? Could he make portals far away? How did it even work?
Jazz's brain stuttered.
Just how long had Lunch Lady been trapped here?
Nobody would have noticed her missing except maybe the Box Ghost. Kitty mentioned the two had been spending more time together just last week, so it had to be within a couple months. But that was still a long time.
Ugggh. Jazz wasn't going to get any sleep if her thoughts kept circling this mental drain.
She needed real answers. The kind that only came straight from the horse's mouth.
It seemed it was time for a social call.
But, like, tomorrow.
When she wasn't locked in.