You know how they say "two heads are better than one"? Yeah, whoever came up with that obviously never had to deal with Todoroki.

The guy was great—smart, capable, all that—but his whole "silent and brooding" thing was not helping my nerves. Every time he gave me one of his intense stares, I felt like I was being interrogated by a glacier.

We spent the next day walking a fine line between "subtle investigation" and "blowing our cover." Todoroki's idea of subtle? Asking pointed questions during class that made everyone side-eye us. My idea of subtle? Not openly accusing people of murder during a math lesson.

At lunch, he cornered me. "Did you notice Koda didn't come to breakfast?"

I blinked, caught mid-bite of a sandwich. "Koda? The guy who talks to animals?"

"Yes," he said, like I should've been paying more attention. "He's been... off lately."

I frowned. Koda wasn't exactly a social butterfly to begin with, but now that Todoroki mentioned it, I hadn't seen him much since all this started. Still, the guy was practically a ghost on a good day.

"You think he knows something?" I asked, keeping my voice low.

"I think he's hiding something," Todoroki replied, his tone as flat as ever.

Great. Another mystery on top of the pile.

That night, we decided to check the dorm common areas, just in case. Todoroki took the lead—big surprise—while I kept an eye out for anything suspicious.

The dorms were quiet, eerily so. Most of the students were either asleep or too scared to leave their rooms. The air felt heavy, thick with tension that no one wanted to acknowledge.

As we passed the lounge, something caught my eye. A small, folded piece of paper tucked under one of the couch cushions.

"Hold on," I said, stopping Todoroki.

"What is it?"

I pulled the paper out, my hands shaking slightly. It was another note, the handwriting the same as the others.

"You're wasting time. Tick-tock, Midoriya."

Todoroki frowned, leaning over my shoulder to read it. "They're taunting you."

"Yeah, no kidding," I muttered, shoving the note into my pocket. "But why? What's the point?"

"Maybe they're testing you," he suggested. "Or trying to scare you into backing off."

"Well, it's working," I admitted. "But I'm not stopping."

Todoroki nodded, and we moved on, though neither of us found anything else that night.

The next morning, the first major break in our "investigation" came, and it wasn't exactly subtle.

During combat training, Aizawa called out for Koda to take his turn.

No response.

"Koda?" Aizawa repeated, his voice sharp. Still nothing.

The rest of us exchanged uneasy glances as Aizawa sighed and sent one of the support staff to check the dorms.

Five minutes later, they returned, pale and shaky. "He's not there."

Aizawa's eyes narrowed. "Not there? What do you mean, 'not there'?"

"The room's empty," the staff member said. "And... there's blood on the window."

The entire class froze. My heart dropped into my stomach. Blood?

"Everyone, stay here," Aizawa ordered before leaving with the staff member.

The silence that followed was deafening. No one dared to speak, not even Bakugo.

"He's gone," Todoroki murmured next to me.

"Yeah," I said, my voice hollow.

But the truth gnawed at me like a parasite. Koda wasn't just "gone."

He was leaving a trail.