As Aizawa, Hizashi, and Nemuri were called to the police department, they couldn’t help but wonder why. Aizawa had a hint of why he was called, but Hizashi and Nemuri? It seemed suspicious. They had just figured out the identity of the masked female villain from before, but how could she have been connected to all three of them? That was impossible, there wasn’t a female that all three of them knew and were close to… well, other than Y/N of course. But that would be impossible, he had his doubts that the villain’s identity could be one of their closest friends. 

But he was starting to think otherwise, even though he knew that her being the villain isn't possible. But they seemed identical, maybe a sister of Y/N if possible? He wasn’t sure anymore. 

Yet, it scared him more than anything to know that it all added up for her to be the villain. He knew that despite how much he wanted to deny it and tell himself it wasn’t plausible, he knew what kind of world he lived in. One where almost everyone had some sort of supernatural that had turned into the new ‘normal.’ One where heroes were a professional career someone could take and get paid for, and one where the morality and humanity of villains were always tested. It wasn’t hard to believe if by chance that was the case, but what were the chances? Slim, but still… there.

He shook his head, scolding himself that he needed to be more rational when it came to Y/N, he told himself that people like Y/N don’t come back. Not when they’re left and gone, not when they’re buried and remembered. It left a bitter taste in his mouth as his throat became dry from thinking about the possibility of how Y/N could be it. He had so much left unsaid, he had so many things he wanted to do with her, but she was a villain now, about to be put behind bars. Did it matter if the identity was Y/N or not? 

He didn’t know how he would feel- how he would react- to know that she was a villain, hell to know she would be back. Would he have been angry? Upset and immediately guilty? Shocked and confused? Most likely all of the above, making him gulp down another lump of guiltiness and sorrow. He knew when it came to Y/N, nothing could ever be set straight for him, his thoughts would run around frantically as his heart would pump out of his chest, threatening to explode from the rapid beating. He would become numb and indecisive on how to act, his mouth would be stuttering with half-pronounced words, and his cheeks would have been flaming with heat. 

But now? With all he said and done, he didn’t know, he didn’t know for shit how he should have acted before and how he should have acted now. That desperation of trying to fix everything they, no he, had broken would have surely overcome him, and just any logical reasoning would have left him. What would be left of him is his honest self, just acting on impulses rather than any thinking, like how she always had him behaving when she was there with him. 

He missed, and still missed, looking beside him but not seeing the familiar h/l h/c girl next to him. He wanted back the moments when they would see the dumb shit people do, and when he turned back, he could no longer hear the musical laughter of Y/N’s. He hated that no matter what great heroics he did or what achievements he got, he wasn’t ever to hear the same cheers from Y/N than any other person. He longed for the ghosts of her touch to be revived, the gentle warmth and embrace on his skin, but then he realized he would never get the same treatment he got when she was by his side. 

He missed having the only person that could make him smile by his side. 

He wanted to go back to those days, he had dreams where one day in the future, she’d pop up out of nowhere and they would have gone back to their teenage years. But dreams… were just dreams. He bit his lips as he thought about how this could be a dream too. He was imagining and indulging himself too much in the idea that the masked villain would be Y/N, was getting himself too wrapped around this when there was a high chance of it being someone else. 

So why did he have this aching in his chest? 

“Eraserhead, glad to see you have arrived. The villain is in interrogation room twelve. You can meet Detective Tsukauchi there,” a police officer said as he walked near the receptionist desk. Aizawa nodded, knowing his way through the department too many times when he was on his late night patrols, catching crooks and mafia members. Striding over down the halls, some officers greeted him in which he only grunted in response, before spotting the blonde and the purplenette, along with the detective. 

“Eraserhead is here now, so I think we can start. Afternoon, Eraserhead,” the detective replied. Aizawa bobbed his head in acknowledgement of the other male, glancing back at his friends to see if they knew of any idea of why they were called in too. Their faces told him they also didn’t know, and he began to wonder furthermore. 

“We looked through the files to see who it was, using her fingerprints and facial recognition, every possible way to identify someone. We found nothing. We found out she passed out due to a mental disturbance in her brain, where the brain was causing too much stress for her suddenly. From your statement, Eraserhead, we assumed from her current brainwaves, which are under very serious stress currently as of right now, that her sudden collapse was from the sudden arrival of new memory. It’s like she just gained half of her life’s memories again, assuming those were erased or forgotten somehow. Because the trigger seems to come from your name Eraserhead, we assume that you may know her. Midnight and Present Mic were brought to her because she started muttering their names as well before she passed out again before she was taken into the interrogation room.”

Aizawa’s brow raised his eyebrows in curiousness and wondering. So, a sudden uprising of past memories that she had seemed to forget? It must have been a lot, full of traumatic and life-threatening moments if her body produced so much stress mentally just from her mind. But how could he have triggered it? He didn’t associate himself with villains, and he definitely wasn’t in touch with a lot of people, or knew of anybody else that was aware of him. He must have held some significance to her if he had managed to trigger such memories. What could those memories be of that forced her to create so much stress? 

“When we showered her, it turns out that her hair happened to be dyed, as it was washed away after, her true hair color being h/c. We’ll continue describing her to see if she rings a bell, but you’ll also have the chance to see her yourself. She is 178 centimeters, slim and built, with h/c h/l hair, e/c eyes, and that’s about it. She has many scars, and the oldest ones come from twenty years ago, but the most come from ten years ago, but there are hundreds of scars that she had gained from over the years, most likely from recently, the freshest one being of a few weeks old to fifteen years ago. We assumed she was tortured or had gone through many dangerous and lethal situations or missions, or whatnot. Many of the wounds vary, from burns, to stab wounds, to decaying skin, and gunshots littered all over, chest to toe. Other than her face, her entire body is full of it. It’s honestly very revolting seeing how much this woman had suffered. From the signs she’s shown, she wasn’t willingly a villain. Perhaps persuaded or unmotivated to try and escape.” Tsukauchi informed them as they walked to the one-sided window of the interrogation room. 

Aizawa’s eyes moved from the male to the villain in the room, Hizashi and Nemuri’s focus following after. All of their eyes widened, and the detective took notice of their reactions. The three of the close friends were frozen with shock as they peered at the cuffed villain sat at the table. Although his friends were paralyzed, Aizawa was shaking from head-to-toe, forgetting how to breathe as he continued to gaze at the female beyond the glass wall. 

Aizawa started shaking violently and his breath became heavy. His fingers twitched as his body became overwhelmed with a new kind of numbness. His heart raced in his chest and was beating at an unhealthy speed, pumping blood rapidly. His face began to pale and his eyes bulged out, his mouth wide open and left stuttering out simple words. He stood there, petrified to the core at what he was seeing, forgetting to breathe as his thoughts were driven towards all kinds of directions, his brain going into hyperdrive. 

She was… she was here? How? How could she have been here? How? Why? Why… Did she become a villain? Did she fake it? No, that was impossible! He saw her, he saw her there, he saw it happen, he held her there. There was no way… she couldn't be! She had to be a fake! This can't be Y/N, it just can't be. 

All the things he had said and done came rushing back to him. 

“That’s not possible,” Aizawa muttered. “That’s not possible. How? How? How could she..?”

“-that’s Y/N L/N. She moved away fifteen years- Shota what's wrong? What’s not possible?” Hizashi asked him as he noticed his best friend’s shaking form. Nemuri immediately went to his side in order to calm him down and comfort him.    

“He’s having a panic attack,” she said gravely. “Shota, calm down! Tell us, what’s not possible?! Shota! Wake up!” she shook his body as he clutched the fabric of his shirt above his beating organ tightly, breathing heavily as he stared at the h/l h/c haired girl. “That’s not possible,” he breathed once again, his breath shaky and hitching as he continued to stare. His quivering hands went to cover his mouth, cupping it securely as the same mumbled words escaped his throat. Tears brimmed at the corner of his eyes, too focused on the triggering memories being brought back to life to have noticed that there were people around him. His heart drummed in his chest loudly, seeming to have echo in his ears, deafening him at the yelling from the nearby people. 

He couldn’t tell what was wrong. All he could was blankly stare at the female as his world was altered and corrupted around him, his conscious fading in and out, deciphering what was real and what wasn’t, as the background around him had been changed to different scenes of the memories he had tried burying all those years ago. The flood of the repressed memories, years and years worth of them, had caused him to shut down mentally.

Meanwhile, Hizashi was trying to snap Aizawa out of his trance, as all he did was shake so aggressively, it seemed so out of character. He could tell that his eyes were becoming red from the strain of having tears just desperate to fall, and the clenching of his clothes around his pumping organ as he gazed at the female; he knew that something traumatic had happened between them. Finally, having enough of just trying to shake him, he shoved Aizawa against the glass harshly, hoping the pain would wake him as Nemuri tried to talk some sense into him. Hizashi gripped the collar of his jumpsuit as tight as he could. 

The single shock of pain had awakened Aizawa as he was beginning to plunge deeper into the mass abyss of what he called ‘his past.’ He made eye contact with Hizashi, eyeing him in a horrified manner, but not at him. 

“Shota, talk to us. What’s not possible?”

His voice was unrecognizable as it was hoarse and barely coherent. It was filled with the tremor of someone who had witnessed the most disturbing thing of all. It was the kind of look where a psychotic person has been through something that nobody should have dealt with before. 

It was of a person who had been suffering and trapped for years upon years. 

Aizawa locked eye contact with the blonde, his lips whimpering as he uttered three words. 

“She… was dead…” 

Hizashi was furious, a rage ignited within him that he didn’t know he had all this time, as he slammed the ravennette back onto the window with more force than last time. “You- you lied! You fucking lied! You fucking told us that she moved away! Fifteen years later, you tell us she fucking died? Where have we been for the funeral? For her burial? You- what did you do?” he screamed at him, also in a similar state of vibrating out of pure emotions; his body shook with aggression and anger. 

“You fucking lied to us, Shota! You told us that she moved away! You saw the body, didn’t you? You bastard! Was this why you didn’t tell me- was this why you didn’t tell us?! Tell me now before I am done with you, before I literally throw you through the window right now! And you better be telling me the truth, Shota. How. Did. She. Die?” 

Aizawa had stopped shivering, and his head was tilted downwards, his hair and the shadows hiding his tears as the two others by them were just paralyzed in shock in fear of the interaction of the two friends. 

“Tell me, Shota. How did our best friend, Y/N L/N, die?”

His lips murmured something, but it wasn’t audible to the voice hero, as he shook the body of his friend again. 

“Tell me!” he screamed once more at him.

“She…”

A sudden dread dawned upon the people in the room, instantly, fear and the same horror that Aizawa was previously feeling was planted in their brains. A sudden wave of suffocating grief and sorrow drowned all three of them, causing them to grasp for any room to escape the ever so drowning situation they were in. All of this was caused in a second as he spoke the last few words. 

“S-she t-took… her own… l-life.”