"The police have investigated the group calling themselves "The League of Villains" and there does not appear to be anyone registered with the name in his 20s or 30s with a Quirk that lets him disintegrate whatever he touches. It's the same with a villain called Kurogiri with the Warp Gate. They are probably not citizens and are using false names. In other words, they are people with unregistered Quirks who are part of society's underbelly," the detective said to the staff of UA. "And for the villain that Eraserhead described, we had also not gotten a hit."

"You mean we don't know anything... we must hurry," Vlad King replied, his grim and serious expression was shared with the other employees.

"Once their ringleader, Shigaraki's gun wounds heal, they'll definitely try again. It'll be a pain," pro hero Snipe said. 

"Their ringleader, huh?" the skeleton of the number one hero replied. 

"What is it, All Might?" the mouse principal asked curiously. 

"It was a bold attack that normal people wouldn't carry out even if they thought of it. To suddenly go on and on with his wild statements like that... Although he didn't reveal his own Quirk, he bragged about Nomu's Quirk. And then when things didn't go the way he wanted, he was visibly upset. Well, the incident with the Quirk was also to force my hand, but..."

"Even so, it was foolish to throw away the advantage of having unknown Quirks when fighting against heroes," Nezu suggested.

"He made immature, wild statements with a straight face. He bragged about his possessions. He thought everything would simply go his way. Adding that to what I saw of him when he carried out the attack, the picture I get of Shigaraki is someone who hasn't gotten rid of his childish sense of omnipotence- a man-child," All Might finished. 

"A child with power?" Vlad King striked up. 

"Could it be that he never received Quirk counseling every child gets in elementary school?" Midnight inferenced. 

"Well, what does that have to do with anything?" Snipe questioned. 

"There were 72 villains arrested the other day at USJ. They were all small-tiers that lurked in back alleys. But the problem is how they all agreed with that man-child and followed him. In the current environment saturated with heroes, villainous people who have been oppressed may be drawn to that kind of simple-minded evil," the detective informed.

"That's true," the homeroom teacher answered. 

"There are plenty of people who don't know what to do with their Quirks, especially that female... that Quirk could be useful in the medical department if Eraserhead accurately described it, " the pro gunman hero said. 

"This is alarming, though..." the R-Rated Hero responded to. 

"Well, it's thanks to you heroes that we are able to devote ourselves to our investigation. We'll expand our search network and continue to assist in arresting the perpetrators." 

"A man-child..." Nezu mumbled. "In some sense, he's like our students. He still has room to grow. If there was someone capable of backing him, trying to cultivate his malice..." 

This kept to All Might thinking. "I don't want to think about what could happen." 

The tired and exhausted ravenette stumbled upon his apartment, fiddling with the keys with the bandaged arms of his, as he inserted it into the keyhole. His grip was hard to grasp onto the metal item due to the twisted angle his hands were, but finally he managed to turn the key and unlock the door, loosely pulling out the key and entering inside. 

Once entering inside, a brush of hair startled him as it made contact with his leg, then realizing it was from the ball of fluff he treasured. 

"Coffee..." he sighed, kneeling down to the best of his abilities, and petting the cat, indulging into the warmth as the female tabby licked his fingers gingerly, coaxing out a soft meow. Scratching the creature's chin, it curled around his hand, egging him to continue his actions. He does so for a few minutes before slowly getting up and going into his kitchen, switching on the light switch. 

His kitchen was small, but it definitely made that up with its coziness. A wooden counter that acted as the dining table, along with a few stools seated around it. A birch-wood isle was attached alongside a wall, with a refrigerator, and the only thing on the isle were a few kitchen equipment and the coffee-machine. Grabbing for a mug, he inserted it in the machine which then with a touch of a button, dispensed black liquid into it. 

Taking three packs of sugar and a cream container, he mixed the ingredients together, and brought the cup to his lips, taking in small sips of the lethally-warm beverage. 

In what people were like with alcohol, that was what he was like with coffee; he was addicted and it was something he constantly needed to live on. 

Reaching down to the drawers, he pulled out the cat food bag and bowl, and whistled. Soon enough, the feline by the name of "Coffee" came by. Placing down the bowl and pouring the little pebbles of food inside, he gave a gentle pat to the cat before putting it back, deciding to head for a shower. 

He passed by the mirror, careful to miss his reflection as he began to remove his attire and the bandages, unwrapping them slowly as he hissed in pain, his sore arms and body still recovering, mostly from his lower abdomen. 

After taking a cold shower, he threw on loose and probably clothes that were too big for him, not caring in the world for the size, before rolling onto the bed, and under the comfortable covers of the safety his blankets gave him. 

Even with all that happened, it seemed like nothing really happened. He still carried on his day like normal, heading home to shower and feed the cat, then heading off to sleep. Still, with the irregularity of what happened at USJ, something about him changed. He couldn't understand how or why, and he feared it would cause a distraction for him, making him do something irrational in order to satisfy whatever change he had gone through. 

He wasn't talking about his physical change, no- he had been through injuries like this before, maybe not as bad as this, but he was used to getting injuries like this. He wasn't sure what exactly had changed inside of him, whether it was physiological or emotional, he just couldn't describe it. 

He recognized it as a feeling of familiarity to one of the villains, and he already knew who that would be, and he was sure why he was feeling this, but at the same time, he had no point to. He knew of someone with the exact quirk, but there was no way she could be the villain, no that was impossible. Why would he feel this familiarity? There was no way he could sympathize with the villain, that wasn't what he was feeling. He didn't share common feelings with the person. No, the villain had brought up something from his past that deep within he tried to bury. And then something nagged him that there was more to just digging into his past, and that matters relating to his past would rise up again into the present.

Preposterous, he told himself. Stop being irrational, that could never happen. 

After all, people who were gone don't just suddenly show up. 

With that thought, he let himself drift off to whatever the mind had in store for him in his sleeping state. 

"Shota! Hey, wake up! C'mon, you haven't been talking to us lately. Well actually you hardly talk to us on a normal basis, but you haven't said a single word to us today or yesterday or even the whole week! Dude, wake up, you're not napping are you?" Hizashi questioned, placing his hand on the ravenette's shoulder. 

"What do you want?" the teenager replied emptily, his cold gaze piercing the souls of his friends, as he flinched his body away from the blonde's touch. 

That was indeed the first time he had said anything over a span of a week. It wasn't unusual that he didn't talk as mentioned before, but he was never this cruel in responses. 

"H-hey, we just wanted to see if you were dealing with something. Sure, you're pretty quiet, but... it's not normal. You've been acting like that for the entire week, we just... y'know want to see what's up with you."

"Stick your ass in someone else's business," he replied, turning away from the blonde and walking past him, which left him awe-struck. 

"Shota, me and Nemuri are worried! It's like you're all depressed and going through a girl's period- but way worse. You're usually way more relaxed and you don't really give much of a thought for anything, but this isn't like you!" 

"Just fuck off, will you?" his voice was laced with venom that stung so deep into Hizashi. But it wasn't the venom that actually hurted, it was something else that mingled with the voice, it was bittersweet and almost unnoticeable. 

"Hey... you know you could talk to me if you need help with anything..." 

"Tch. Just leave me alone."

With that, that gave confirmation the moody and tired, but also selfless and lax boy that Hizashi once knew had turned into something he could no longer recognize.